#eyewitness fanfic

[teenmaximoff]

Between Our Heavenly Bodies

“It’s an inside joke now – ‘Lukas likes dicks.’ Actually, Lukas loves dicks as he is very, very gay. Five years ago, he wouldn’t even dare to think that – let alone joke about it with Phillip and their new friends. But he does. And he does it without any embarrassment. He’s come so far from the closeted bully he was in Tivoli. And it’s all thanks to Phillip. And his beautiful dick.”

-----

AKA - Lukas reminisces on all the times Phillip’s dick helped him out of the closet.

[fairytail-whathesays]

So y'all wanted the Bickslow backstory, huh?

[anistarrose]

I was going to make a post saying "Lucretia told everyone the truth there were seven Grand Relics instead of covering her ass and saying there were six because she's a storyteller, and six sounds objectively less cool than seven," but then I thought about it and actually, if you look at the timeline, I think this was probably a very pragmatic or at least tactically safe decision on her part?

When Lucretia founds the Bureau, Junior hasn't been born yet. Lucretia obviously doesn't even know Junior will be born someday. So once she inoculates Bureau members with Fisher — a necessity to staffing the Bureau in the first place — Lucretia can't keep any more secrets from them, with only one Voidfish at her disposal. And crucially, while Lucretia is the Bureau's primary source of info on the "Red Robes," basically all her recruits lived through the Relic Wars.

Upon inoculation, they'll all presumably remember at least some details about the Grand Relics. Obviously no one but Lucretia would know anywhere near everything about each Relic and their properties, not least of all because of a high eyewitness fatality rate, but part of the reason the wars were so deadly was because word of the Relics spread. Everyone in the world knew a few things about them.

So, if Lucretia were to tell her recruits: "oh, don't worry, there's only six terrible artifacts we need to destroy, tee hee!" then it's very possible that assorted Bureau members — especially Seekers, for whom looking into the Relics is literally their job — could start comparing memories amongst themselves, and put together that there was a seventh, leaving Lucretia with no option but to admit that she lied. If I recall correctly, the podcast never explicitly indicates what/how much damage the Bulwark Staff did to the world — but I find it hard to believe that it didn't do anything an inoculated person could later find record of or remember. (There's an admittedly good fanfic premise, though, in Lucretia leaving her Relic in someone's care to make it stationary, like how Magnus gave the Chalice to Jack, or how Barry is theorized to have given the Bell to the Wonderland twins.)

I digress, but the point is, Lucretia may have necessitated a lot of little lies for her future self by admitting there were seven Relics, but trying to winnow it down to six could've easily bit her in the ass, and she was definitely smart enough to realize that. She acted accordingly at the time.

And by the time Junior comes around, then of course she could theoretically use them to erase the Bulwark Staff from her employees' minds — but by then, she's been hiding the Staff under everyone's noses for about a year, and no one has gotten suspicious. So if it's working, why change it? She's no doubt also smart enough to reserve Junior's power for emergencies only — because even if people forget information, they can still retain the feeling they're forgetting something. With people planetside, that's one thing — but with her employees on the moon, from whom she needs unshakeable trust? Probably not worth it.

Overall, it's a deceptively rational decision on Lucretia's part, honestly. And also, yes, seven Grand Relics still sounds way more badass than just six.

[sdr2lovemail]

Request… Yomi hand selecting a Female reader to be his next Right Hand after Martina is “gone”

His New Right Hand! (Fem Reader)

Synopsis: Criminal scum deserve to die! Unless they could be of use to Yomi Hellsmile.

Notes: I'm working super hard to push my Rain Code propaganda through fanfics. Anyone seeing this post should play it or watch a playthrough. Especially any fans of murder mysteries! I love this game!

Requests are open!

You were a murderer, clean and simple. It didn’t matter if you were helping someone or not. You killed someone with your own hands. But what was strange was that you were not behind bars. The exact opposite. It was practically guaranteed you’d be dealt the death penalty the moment Yomi Hellsmile stepped onto the scene. Yet here you were now, peacekeeper uniform draped over your body, gun in hand, as you patrolled the city.

That night was burned deep in your memory. His face pulled in mock pity as he looked down at your cuffed figure. Martina Electro was behind him, holding up an umbrella to shield him from the rain. His cane clicked against the pavement as he got closer. “Now, what’s that look for? You’re looking at me like I’m going to kill you. If anything, it should be me thinking that.”

Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, and your throat was dry like a desert. The rain hits your face as you look up at the director. “It’s- It’s not like that! I…”

“Quiet.” Yomi’s voice called, cold and uncaring. “Criminals have no rights. Especially not the ones that try to excuse their crimes.” 

The end of his cane prods the top of your head. “However, I could almost praise you. You killed a man to protect someone you don’t even know. I can’t tell if I should call you brave or an absolute idiot.” 

A peacekeeper stepped up to him, tablet in hand. They salute the directors before speaking. “We’ve gathered all the information on the case. We also have an eyewitness who saw her commit the crime.”

Martina takes the file, offering it up with her free hand. “Here you are, Director Yomi.”

Taking it into his open palm, Yomi smiled at her. Though, it didn’t reach the rest of his face. “Oh, you’re just so diligent. But I would expect nothing less from my beloved right hand.” The way he purred out those words would’ve made you feel something if he were not your executioner. And it seemed like it made Martina feel something as her face became pink.

As he read the file, his eyes widened ever so slightly before his lips curled into a smirk. “Well, the victim was the criminal we’ve been searching for. This day seems to keep getting better!” Tossing the tablet back to the peacekeeper, Yomi lifts your chin with the end of his cane.

“And you were able to take him down.” Those steely grey eyes seemed to pierce through you. “Do you think your sense of justice is high? Seems like it is with the way you’re parading around the city like a crime-busting vigilante!” His tone raised as his cane struck the ground next to you.

Shaking, your eyes stay low to the ground. This wasn’t how you expected your life to end. Well, you were going to die anyway, you might as well try to stand your ground. “He was trying to hurt that woman. I was only trying to get him away from her. I didn’t mean to kill him-” 

This time, it was Martina interrupting your flow of speech. “You will not speak out of turn. It doesn’t matter what you were trying to do. The only thing that matters right now is your sentencing.”

Like you weren’t even there, Yomi comes behind Martina. He wraps his arms around her waist and rests his head against her shoulder. “A scummy criminal like you should take after Vice Director Martina here. Poised, elegant, powerful.”

“It’s an honor to hear such praise from you, Director Yomi.” Martina leaned into him, her face flushing darker in color. 

You felt awkward. It felt like you were intruding on an intimate moment. As you attempt to look away, Yomi’s cane returns to poke at your head. Stepping away from the woman, he smirks down at you with a crazed look.

“Justice is punishing every disgusting piece of filth that galivants around harming this city. Not even the cruelest of my torture methods are enough for murderers to atone. Every single one of you deserves to die for ruining my ward.” 

There were no words left in your head. Nothing can save you now. You believed you lived an honest life, but now it was about to be snuffed out. All because you tried to defend someone.

“However.”

A light shines through the dark—a dull, red light. From the streetlights, that same color glows around Yomi like a corrupt angel who had fallen from heaven.

“It seems you know that. Even though it cost someone's life, you came to her rescue. Despite not knowing this woman, despite knowing your hands will be stained for the rest of your unfortunate life. You know the real meaning of peace.” He looks at the peacekeepers stationed at either side of you. “Pick her up.”

They nod and loop their arms through yours, hoisting your body to meet his eyes.

“Situations like this really make my heart bleed.” His neck rolls, and he looks at you through his lashes. Yomi’s flowery words were a direct contrast to his expression. He looked at you like you were lesser than the mud caking his shoes. “Instead of me painting the streets with your fucking blood, you’re going to become a peacekeeper. This is how you will repent for your disgusting crimes.”

He leans in close, his eyes boring deep into yours. “But you’ll wish I just killed you once you undergo my training.” With a flick of his wrist, Yomi gestures to the peacekeepers. “Get this criminal trash out of my sight.”

Pulling you away from your reminiscing, your radio crackles to life. The voice of your director cuts through the pitter-patter of the rain.

“Come down to my office, now.” The radio cuts off, leaving you no time to respond. 

When you entered his office, Yomi stood behind his desk, gazing at the neon-lit city. You take notice of Martina’s absence. On the screen at the center of the wall was a live video feed of the river bank, stained dark with large plumes of smoke.

You walked further into the room, stopping at his desk and curtly bowing your head. “You called for me, Director Yomi?”

His voice calls out to you, sweet like honey. “Do you know why I asked you to come here?” He turned on his heel, looking to face you with that deceptive grin.

“No, I do not.” You replied, keeping your answers short, nervous to find out why.

He hums for a moment, his eyes closed as if he were daydreaming. “Hmm, how long has it been since I've graciously saved you from the filthy life of a common murderer? Two, three years?”

“It’s been two years.”

Yomi dragged a single gloved finger along the wood grain desk. He moves around to stand behind you. “Ah, that’s right. Two years of you knowing your place at Amaterasu.” His hands move and rest on your shoulders, thumbs rubbing gentle circles over your uniform.

“You know, I’m your hero. Your savior.” His hands trail down to your arms. “I’m the one that gave you a second chance at life. Now look at you. Someone that knows the meaning of justice in this city.” Yomi’s tone is soft like he only wants you to hear what he’s saying. He comes around to stand in front of you now, but not without letting his fingers trail against your hip.

While that wouldn’t be the way you would word it, Yomi pitied you enough not to sentence you then and there that night. In his own twisted way, he did give you a second chance.

This time, you bow a bit lower. “No one is more thankful for that than me. I don’t think I could ever pay you back properly.” 

Calculated fingers reach for your chin, lifting your head to meet his eyes. The light of the screen omits a glow against his skin. A gentle white glow. It almost made him look… safe.

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong,” Yomi smirked. He cupped your face with one hand, grabbing a wrist with the other. “I know the way you could show your gratitude.” He pressed his body closer to yours. “Become my right hand.”

It wasn’t an offer, it was a demand.

“Since I brought you in from your disgusting sewer rat life, I’ve been keeping an eye on you. I know better than anyone that you’re made to be by my side. To join me in bringing order to Kanai Ward!” There was an almost sinister glint in his eye.

“But,” You paused, trying to gather your thoughts at the sudden proposal. “But what about Vice Director Martina?”

Yomi’s head cocked to the side, the smile on his face stretching into something crueler. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”

Those few words sent a chill down your spine like the room got cold. What happened to Martina Electro? You didn’t have much time to dwell on it before he started to talk again. 

The hand on your wrist moved so both were now holding your face with gloved fingers. His breath fans against your skin from the proximity. There’s a sharp, minty fragrance.

“You’ll be all mine. No one will have you but me. Nice and pretty by my side. We’ll show the fucking scum that stains the streets the truth about order and peace!” Yomi pulls you into a tight embrace. His hands resting on your waist while his head rests against yours.

“My beloved right hand.” He lets out a chuckle, slowly swaying on the balls of his feet. “You’ll stay by my side, right?”

[queen-of-elves]

Let's try again

Poe Dameron x fem!reader College AU

Summary: You thought college was a new fresh start, so seeing Poe Dameron again at a party completely wrecks your world.

A/N: Not proofread sorry, I am done with my college exams so I back to writing hehe

Words: over 6.2K

Warnings: cursing, some insecurities, daydreaming as a for of escape

Request are still open

Tags for this fanfic: @ahookedheroespureheart

This party was advertised as a private party, a surely small thing with just enough people you knew to talk to. Wrong, completely and utterly wrong. Beer, loud booming music and loads of people, would be a perfect description of a frat party. 

Private party my ass, Jessica.

Jessica was the one to invite you, the two of you met at the start of the winter semester and hit it off instantly. Well, if instantly meant Jessica basically adopting you and becoming your support extrovert for social interactions. So when she told you, A small party and I will be basically attached to your hip, well, you to mine, but please don’t hide behind me the whole time. Live a little, girlie.

You truly didn’t expect this amount of overwhelming feelings, it was probably ‘cause you didn’t come prepared for all of this. Small number of people you knew from shared classes plus Jessie next to you? Social battery ready. Full house with red cups littering the hall just like the people invited? Halls and rooms full of strangers with loud music and not enough air to actually breathe? Yeah, not really ready. Not ready at ALL. 

What you also weren’t ready for was Jessica ditching you at the sofa she stationed you at with the promise of not that much alcoholic beverage in your cup as last time. This sentence was actually met with you pointing a finger in her face and quick “Knew it!” exhaled before she sprinted away. Last time you made an absolute fool of yourself while drunk, not nonconsensually, Jessica told you it had alcohol in it, hoping you would relax a bit and you accepted. Relaxing a bit after a what Jessica called a bit of vodka, which was in your opinion loads of what you assumed was pure and concentrated methanol, resulted in you turning into an absolute beast, according to eyewitnesses, your classmates and of course rest of the party goers you don’t know telling you the next day. It also resulted in you waking up with the worst headache of your life, foul taste in your mouth and almost zero memory of the night before. Not exactly an experiment you wanted to be part of for the second time. 

But the night got worse, of course it did go worse, if you drank it was bad and if you didn’t you got bored just like now. And bored always resulted in either sticking to Jessie’s back or hip and begging her to leave the lame party early or if she evaded your presence the moment you got bored it was on you to choose between waiting on her or leaving yourself. You never left by yourself. Yes, it was an option but a terrible one, unwanted and awkward and no one wants those. So, you stuck to the position, sitting on the cushion sofa in the middle of a living room in a frat house full of people with loud music blasting from speakers. 

You can do it, people go on dangerous expeditions and always come back. Well, not always. Actually what is the percentage of dangerous expeditions going wrong. That must depend on the definition of dangerous expedition, right? God, I should google it.

You had spaced out again. It’s not something you would do often- a blatant lie, you actually did it often, too often nowadays. Sometimes it was just thoughts building a maze in your head and hiding your brain and sometimes it was daydreams, with no rational scheme behind those thoughts. It was an escape that made you feel better. In some kind of fucked up way it made you feel seen even though it was not real and just in your head. But it was happiness and therefore you would take it.

And with your mind swimming around in your head so did your eyes, away from the musty old carpet and into the crowd. The house felt fuller than before and it probably was. It has been an hour since you arrived with Jessica, fashionably late or something according to her. Jessica’s lateness was however disturbed by your anxiousness of being too late, so instead of an hour late it was 20 minutes. So all the actually and purposely late people had finally arrived.

It felt like you would develop a headache, no, you were definitely going to get a headache. And so your eyes kept on skimming across the room, one of the legs of the coffee table in front of you that was cracked or the ripped wallpaper on the other side of the room. And then you caught someone’s eyes, staring in recognition at you. It terrified you, being observed in such a way and again the night got worse, so so much worse. Because you recognized those eyes and his face just like he did with yours. Here he stood, a few meters away with a red cup in hand, leaning on one of the four walls of the living room.

Poe was always boyishly handsome, the next door kind of boy handsome, but now he was heavenly being among mortals. What once were curious big eyes with mischievous glint, and he truly didn’t lose the spark in those years, just turned into dark flirtatious danger. 

And what could have been a friendly, surprising meeting after all this time between childhood friends was only a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. You couldn’t look at him. You thought it was behind you, it felt like years and was in fact swept by those years under the rug like any kind of unpleasant memory from your past. But this was Poe, your Poe, no, scratch that, he was not your Poe anymore. There was nothing left of the boy you would play with every day, go to the beach every summer and who would make you laugh so uncontrollably until your stomach hurt. 

And now he was excusing himself from the conversation he was having moments prior to your staring contest? Accident? Let’s call it an accident. It felt like one and it was going to result in a horrendous amount of trauma, again. 

The whole time he held your gaze with his, not even a second was given to anything else. You were sure he was going to trip over the outstretched legs of one of the boys but he just stepped over them without looking. He was always a lucky bastard. So wishing him to fall over something and plant his handsome face on that disgusting carpet while you would sprint down your escape route, you had already planned, was a delusional dream.

“What are you doing here?”  He finally arrived close enough not to awkwardly yell at you across the room when he spoke and you were ready to puked all over yourself. Poe even attempted to hug you or at least his arms were spread wide open instigating he was going for a hug. But this attempt was shortly discarded after you didn’t move an inch to meet the hug, still sitting on the sofa with a shocked expression as if made out of stone. You couldn’t move, you just couldn’t, there was no explaining it. 

So that’s how deers feel when they are staring at the headlights. Paralyzed and ready to be crushed, unable to move to escape.

But for you there was escaping. Maybe you could play amnesia, a little trip down the stairs and upsie dupsie you don't remember him.

“Sorry, it’s you, right? Y/N?” He looked unsure and a bit awkward. Poe most likely didn’t expect you here or to even see you again in his life. In both of your eyes it was probably for the best not seeing each other after how your friendship ended on such a tragic note.

Yes, even better. I can play it like I am someone else. Then when all of this is over I can just never see him again. Maybe changing my name and hair color and mayor and maybe completely moving to Brazil to play volleyball at beaches would be a good idea. Drink fruity cocktails and work as a maid in hotels or something. I like volleyball and I definitely don’t want to be in this situation. 

“No, it’s definitely you.” His confused expression morphed into one of pure happiness and you knew there was no escaping.

Maybe if I think hard enough about sunny beaches and bikinis I won’t be here. I will just pow and be somewhere else. 

No, you could still hear the loud music resonating deep inside your bones.

Fuck, I am still here and not in Brazil, aren’t I?

“What was that? Where did you just go?” Poe smiled softly down at your seated form. His smile was so wide that wrinkles formed in the corners of his eyes.

God, his smile was always so infuriating, wasn’t it?

“What?” You must have looked terrified, eyes bulging out of its sockets and mouth wide open. No one had yet to notice your little disappearances to your head and Poe was definitely the last one in your mind to do so.

“It’s like you disappeared somewhere, just for a second.” The unsure expression returned but now was completed with a confused tilt of his head before it turned into a wolfish grin, amused by your shocked expression over the words that followed.

“Brazil.” The shriek came out of your throat without any agreement with your brain. This night just tried to prove how quickly things can go sideways, right? Maybe drinking wasn’t such a bad option, at least you wouldn’t remember any of this.

FUCK. What the fuck. Why did I say it out loud? FUCK.

Now you were completely panicking. Sweat pooled into the lines of your shirt, sticking it to your skin. An uncomfortable aura seeped inside and hardened in its core weighing you down on the sofa. And you knew, you knew if you couldn’t let go of this feeling you would crash down and cry in embarrassment. But if you could anchor it on to the harsh texture of the pillows you were propped upon and into the cloth of your seat, you could escape. You were sure of it.

“What?” He kept staring at you with his mouth slightly open and astonished at what he just heard. 

Yep. He definitely heard. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Brazil?” Poe always laughed loudly and with full force making him the center of everyone’s attention. And you couldn’t blame them. It was Poe, handsome, friendly and funny Poe that was always a sweetheart. Well, not always really.

Mission abort. He knows of Brazil. There is no safe haven now. 

You had to get out, now and quickly, otherwise you might smother yourself with one of the nasty cushions from the sofa. It didn’t seem like an effective tactic in your head either but currently it was a very appealing idea. But instead you reloaded the escape route in your mind and activated the plan.

“No, it’s nothing. Eh-, sorry, got lost in thoughts for a bit.” Starting to slowly gather all your things ready to leave and Poe sensed you were getting ready to run. Your tactic was completely ineffective and so he continued talking, knowingly observing you.

“Oh. Yeah-” Before you could have said goodbye to him and run for your life, more like a sanity and what you deemed to be a leftover pride, he spoke again. “You look fantastic by the way, I mean you always did but wow.” You could literally hear a small laugh escape his lips.

This stopped you, you were aware that you went through a massive glow up since high school. You didn’t really wake up one day with clean skin, an actual ton of work was put into the process of your transformation. 

There were always these memories of your aunties calling you pretty. One time at some family member’s b’day celebration one of them approached you, to this day you were not sure if she was from your dad’s side or mom’s and at this point it is too embarrassing to ask. She was one of those cooler aunties, the one that gave the best gifts and to whose attention and favoritism kids in the family sort of fought over.

“You haven’t changed at all, sweetheart. Still such a cute face.” She laughed with her hand in which she was holding a glass of wine swinging around your shoulder to hug your side. 

“Sure, auntie.” At that time you dismissed it completely, ‘cause you knew that your skin was clearer, you had your nails done and wore a cute little dress. However, you didn’t feel even an ounce prettier than if you wore big hoodies with greasy hair. You didn’t love yourself enough then. It changed, at least a bit, you got more confident since high school and more comfortable with your own visage and body.

“You didn’t think it before.” You were unable to look at him but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of avoiding his gaze, so you stared right through him, right through his stupid face and strong chest at what you imagined would be a yellowish white wall behind him.

“What?”

“Nothing, eh-,” Standing up from the sofa, you check if you have everything in your pockets and haven’t lost anything in the cushioned sofa while getting up,” I should get going, bye.” A convulsing smile held in place as you started to speed walk away. Away from Poe, away from the nasty carpet and smelly sofa, away from Jessica kissing a boy in the kitchen, you just signaled to her that you were going home, and away from the stupid house. 

“Woah, wait up!” 

Fuck, of course he is following me.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“If you did- if you did something wrong?!”

“Yeah?” His voice slightly trembled, unsure what to say, you could feel the tension. And so you kept on pushing through the crowd, advancing in your escape plan.

“You don’t know.” It was more of a statement, with no emotion attached to it. You didn’t feel anything or so you thought. In reality you were too busy trying to get to the hall with the entrance door to comprehend what it actually meant. Until it really downed on you. “You don’t remember.”

And so you got ready to remind him.

“You called me ugly, you laughed and said you couldn’t have a crush on someone like me.”

“When?”

“Gosh.” You signed obnoxiously just to try to annoy him a bit. “Since when do you think we are not friends anymore, Poe?”

“That’s what it’s all about?” You could hear his loud huff just like his stomping feet behind you trying to keep up before you escaped his grasp. “You are seriously mad over something so dumb?”

“It’s not dumb. It was important to me. It still is.” You were now grabbing your jacket from the hanger trying to avoid stumbling into the drunk pair going back inside from their cigarette break. “You laughed at me, you laughed at the idea of me being your girlfriend.” You didn’t care anymore if others could hear you, if someone heard and told other people, you didn’t care that tomorrow people could talk about what they heard. You just had to get it off your chest.

“Well what was I supposed to say?!” This made you stop in tracks, right on the porch of the frat house. Music is still loud and booming in your head. The overwhelmed feeling was yet to be gone and Poe wasn’t helping it much.

“I don’t KNOW!? Maybe that it’s true? That you really like me?” You gave him a pissed look making him pause before he shouted back causing you to turn back to the open street and march down again.

“I WAS A PREPUBESCENT BOY who wanted to be viewed as the cool guy!”

“So liking me meant not being cool?!” You were sure if the music from the house wasn’t booming even outside, people inside would be already gathering on the porch to watch the whole situation unfold.

“GOD no, seriously, woman. We were like 14! Boys that age don’t do crushes, at least not openly. And when Mikey asked me I was totally unprepared and just blurred it out ‘cause it was embarrassing to talk about, that’s all.” You still didn’t look back at him, marching down the street trying to escape.

“We definitely weren’t 14!” You screamed back, stopping in your tracks. Your cheeks were on fire and if you had any throwable object near you, you were sure it would already be chucked at his stupid face. For a second you even thought about using the rest of your strength you had after this night to pick a trash can and actually try to throw it at him. You were simply fuming, pissed beyond belief with your face completely hot and you hated it. Poe really got the best and worst out of you.

“We were DEFINITELY 14!” 

Oh, you were so done with him. Mr. Perfect, Mr. I can’t admit I was an asshole. No, THAT I still am an asshole actually. There was something boiling within you, something horrible and ugly trying to get out on the surface. You wanted him to regret making you feel stupid, making you feel ashamed of yourself. You wanted to scorch him so he would be ashamed for what he did to you, to his best friend. 

Ex-best friend now, actually. You have been his ex-best friend for a very long time now. It has been years and it still hurts and you wished something so stupid and childish wouldn’t hurt but oh my god, you could hold grudges. You wished you wouldn’t get mad at him, that you would just laugh or cry for a bit and then make up over ice cream or something. You wished you could look at Poe and be happy and not hurt inside over something so fucking stupid. And so you turned away from him and with a great speed started to walk down the street again.

“I am like, super sure of it!” He screamed behind you making you turn to him once again. Pissed expression setting on your face. Of course he was so sure of it, this arrogant buffalo was always so full of himself and self righteous in an annoying way. He couldn’t even let you cry, let you have some peace with your own stupidity. “Yeah? And why is that, asshole?” You stared at him straight and hard, ready for another argument to begin. 

“You had braces. In 8th grade,” He, just like you, was completely out of breath and slowing down to check his breath right back up,” you had blue braces.” Poe’s outstretched finger was now pointing at you while his other hand was gripping his knee, his whole figure crouched while he lapped at the cold air surrounding you both.

And you would rather die than to admit that Dameron was correct but he was. You really did have braces in 8th grade and you hoped a fabulous glow up would come with taking them off the next grade. When they did finally come off, acne started to pop on your cheeks so no glow up even for that year or the year after and then it was a sort of illusion that hid in your head.

“And I thought you were pretty cute with them.”

Oh. OH.

That was not something you ever saw coming. You didn’t feel cute, at least as far as you could remember. You felt like an ugly duckling and very awkward all the time, uncomfortable in your own skin.

“And then you got hot…,”Poe swung his left hand right on his face, clutching his forehead in frustration before calming down and sliding it across his hair with a quiet end of his sentence being muttered under his breath,”like awfully hot over the summer break.”

Is he fucking with me?

But he continued even though his hands were shaking, if it was the cold or his own embarrassment/frustration you couldn’t tell. “And I just couldn’t understand like- like why no one didn’t snatch you up yet.” If you haven’t noticed how muscular his arms were or how the veins on his hands seemed to tighten before, you were sure you knew of them now. His arms were now stretched out, gripping behind his neck with elbows in the air above his head. If anyone saw you two, they would have thought how nonchalantly Poe looked but up close he was the definition of rubber band ready to snap. Not in anger but frustration. You could see his long fingers digging into the tan skin burning it into a white that turned red moments later. The flush silently spread on the rest of his skin, not just neck, cheeks and tips of his ears followed.

“-and then I was sure guys like Jake…You remember Jake, right? That horrible basketball guy with that mole on his chin. He must have noticed because you like…” He stops his blabbering just to stare at you with newfound intensity. And then he does it, motions to his chest, no, to his t-shirt riding up.

But you didn’t completely understand what he was insinuating and so he continued, trying to explain it all to you. “In PE, it was too hot, the sun was blazing, it was like- like the hottest spring ever and you took off that big hoodie, the one you had always on you, in the middle of the volleyball game. And it was like a few years after we stopped hanging out but I was still thinking about you-“

Poe noticed the hoodie, god, how you hated the hoodie after all those years. It was baggy and unwashable from all your kneading of the fabric in your sweaty hands. It once resembled a safe haven, however, it slowly became a mark of your teenage years sucking ass. 

”- and here you were standing in PE class all sweaty in tight t-shirt and you weren’t just girl, you were like a woman or something and I got-”

“You got hit in the face with the ball!” The sound of your surprise resonating in the empty street not hidden by the gusts of biting cold air. You remembered that you chastised yourself for the next few years for taking the hoodie off even though you were sweating buckets. You just felt so out of your skin by it. Even the fact that you loved playing volleyball couldn’t save you, you still felt embarrassed, only a few years later you realized it was kinda stupid. But you remembered something. Poe, Poe with his bloody nose and spaced out expression standing in the court, diagonally in front of you across the net. 

“I got hit right into my face, Ben fucked up his set and the ball went flying across the net and just boinged me straight into my face while I was-,” he gulped but then his face grazed a boyish grin that slowly spread,” cause I was still thinking about the skin, y’know.” 

“Skin?” You were lost in your own thoughts again, over Poe, over the feelings you had now and used to have and- Poe was looking at you sheepishly, completely halting you in your thought process.

And there it was again. Poe’s fingers skimmed over the fabric of the t-shirt he was wearing, riding it slowly up until you could see his hardened stomach staring back at you.

 “God, stop. I know what you mean.” You had to look away. The heat spread onto your cheeks and slowly trailed down your throat and chest, keeping you warm. If Poe was handsome in highschool, college only gave him more mature charm, sculpting him with sharper jaw and tighter muscles than before.

“Why did you ask then?”

“I don’t know.” You murmured, causing him to laugh for a bit before you followed. The both of you laughed like silly kids, like you used to laugh together.

This was not the end of his rant, it was only the begging, he just kept on talking and talking and your head was swimming in all the hidden affection and fascination he had held to his heart all over those years for you just until now. Just until now when it all bubbled out, spilling at your feet and begging for recognition of the old passion and lust. And your heart was now hoping to hear some more.

“Do you still like me?” You gave him a sheepish look before returning your gaze back to the pavement under your feet as if not paying attention to what he was going to say. Still hoping for a miracle.

“Honestly?” He lifted one eyebrow at the question, giving you a sort of amused side eye, he looked at you briefly, trying to catch you looking at him.

“Honestly.” What a blatant lie on your part, two in one night. You had no need and place for honesty if there was nothing left of those feelings. If there was nothing, no flame for you to reignite there was no room for such honesty, especially not when you were now burning so much.

Please love me, adore me. I need it and I crave it more than air. I crave attention and love, I was never loved enough and maybe you could be the one.

“I don’t know. I mean… It has been a while since we even talked. Maybe you are freaking annoying or you chew really loudly now.” 

Oh.

Of course… that’s…understandable, I guess. 

But you had to keep yourself in high spirits, there was nothing for you to do after all. He was right, it was such a long time to the point you didn’t know anything about him. The remaining fact was his boyish charm was now completed with tight muscles and strong shoulders and you wouldn’t be against dating someone like him. Not knowing the first thing about him seemed to be no stopping line in your mind when it came to handsome guys like him. And on top of that this was Poe, the friendly little neighbor of yours that was always so ready to help with everything everytime. 

“Same could be said about you, y’know.” So, you began walking again, having the need to occupy your legs and calm down the need for pacing around but Poe was still right behind you, keeping up.

“Yeah-yeah, you are right.” He chuckles under his breath, giving you enough confidence to speak again.

“Do you?” Turning back to him, face to face ready to hear his answer. Maybe all of it could come back if you looked into his eyes long enough. Maybe Poe could look at you and adore you once again. The old desperation to be loved was after all still a kindling, ready to be a fire again.

“Hm?” He was not looking at you. The wind was harsher and he was not looking at you. And the wind got stronger and stronger and he was still not looking at you. At this point your hair was violently swinging around like a veil obscuring your view of his imposing figure. And when the bitter winter air gust settled his eyes finally lifted up from the dirty pavement.  Chocolate eyes gazing right at you, confusion weighting on his eyebrows and slightly open mouth complementing the image. 

“Chew loudly.” Corners of your mouth were twitching, ready to be lifted and smile at this adorable silly man. 

“I don't know… probably not?” His eyes were shining again and you felt warmth spreading inside you as if the cold winter around you had already ended and spring was in a full bloom.” No one really complained about me chewing loudly yet. But you know… it's me, so.” He just shrugged, sticking his hands in the pockets of the jacket. At this moment you were already a few streets away from the party where it all started. The start of the fight absolutely decimated by what followed in the name of childhood crushes and awkward realization of time passing and situations changing and the fact that both of you settled into a not so awkward small talk and still felt warmth of the other one’s present..

“Oh, there you go again.” You rolled your eyes at him with a dramatic sigh following closely all in a good sense of teasing.  God, it was Poe, adorable but still so cocky Poe.

“What?” He laughed loudly, the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes adorably boyish. This feeling was so familiar, just like when you were kids and could laugh about anything.

“The smug smile again.” You pointed out, one of your hands pulling out of the heavy jacket’s pocket you decided to wear tonight to quickly point your finger at his face.

“I am not smug.”

“You are.” You murmured it under the breath almost sure he didn’t hear it. 

“Yeah, I kinda am.” Were his dimples always so prominent? Was Dameron also so soft with you? You were sure he was, it fitted him like a tailored suit.

“You hurt me, y’know. It was really awful to hear the popular guy in class say it. Especially like that. And I think it hurt even more knowing it was you, that it wasn’t just some popular guy. It was you, Poe, my Poe.” You had to get a sort of closure on this, it couldn’t be erased but it could be understood and put in a box to be forgotten.

“I am so sorry, sweetheart.”

“I like you. Well, I liked you.” At those words his breath hitched or you thought you heard it do so. 

“Oh.” You could feel him staring again, so many stares given to you in one night so many years later. His gaze not faltering for even a second before he finally turned away.

 “I really fucked up that time right?” There was a pregnant pause before he could get the words out. Now completely aware of his mistakes just like you were of yours. Two silly idiots realizing how both of them fucked up but wanting to mend old wounds.

“Hm.” You hummed in acknowledgement, not really knowing what more to say to him. 

 “God, I wish I could strangle my past self and just yell at him and shit. Your crush likes you back, so like- DON’T fuck it up, y’know?” And while those words escaped between you he did the weirdest gesture, as if he didn’t know what to do with his hands. A motion of holding someone's neck shaking his hands while gripping at air. He looked absolutely ridiculous, but in the end he was just trying to make you laugh. That was what he always did when the two of you were fighting as kids.

“Hm.” His blabbering worked like a magic, small smile appearing on your face as if out of spell before you glanced at him.

“We could try again?” That wasn’t something you had anticipated, no, you actually kinda hoped for it but didn’t want to get disappointed. Poe must have sensed it and was wearing this stupid upside grin just for your smile to stay in place.

 “Not completely, of course. But like new me and new you being friends again kind of repeat?” There was no way for you to prevent the smile widening at your face, cheeks almost hurting how hard you tried not to grin.

“Does it make sense?” His eyebrow now furrowed in a pensive state. “No, I probably worded it badly, wait-, I think-” Poe Dameron was blabbering and he was so cute while doing so. But you needed to stop him and so you helped him by answering before he would get lost in the maze of his own words. “I would love that.”

“Good”. Again, the sheepish smile you so loved seeing on his face, giving Poe more of that boyish charm you were used to. You could feel his gaze now unintentionally slipping away from you for the first time in the night. It didn’t feel right. It felt colder now, as if the sun was no longer beaming at you. And then you have realized. He had seen you the whole time, even at the time you thought there was not much worth seeing. 

And for a moment you were sure there was no going back to being friends with him because you simply couldn’t. Because when he looked at you with a stare not leading thousand miles away from you but here with you, really staring at you. You couldn’t not feel the warmth and you couldn’t stop thinking about him holding your hand and more and you knew it was absolutely crazy. It was so crazy ‘cause you haven’t talked to each other properly since maybe early years of highschool and you didn’t really know him anymore. But you knew the little Poe, your Poe and you knew the idea of Poe you wanted and now you knew the Poe in front of you, at least a bit, and you also knew in the end you couldn’t give up.

You were called back into reality with a loud ringing sound, like an alarm waking you up from a dream. Harsh, loud and causing you to freaking out. By the time you were present again Poe was already fumbling with his jacket’s pocket. 

“Sorry.” You almost didn’t hear those words being mumbled. You were too concentrated on Poe and his furrowed brow with little line forming in between them. 

His hand finally gripped the small device pulling it free from the fabric. He looked quickly at the screen and scolded, probably not so keen to answer the caller but he did it anyway. And before he could talk, you could hear yelling over loud music.“Oi! Poe, we are looking for you!” 

Oh, these must be Poe’s friends.

“Sorry,” He laughed again, this night was truly so full of his laughter and you liked it too much.“I met an old friend from high school and we are catching up, you know how it gets.” He looked up at you and smiled before distancing himself a few steps away.

“Get your stupid ass back to the party, asshole!” This time it was the voice of some woman, she was loud, trying to yell over the music and probably standing a bit away from the phone of the caller.

“Hm, I don’t think I will,” he turned your way with a smile, thinking you didn’t hear what his friend yelled over the phone,”I have a lot of catching up to do.” He told her softly and that was the last thing you could hear before he walked a bit away. He traced the line of the sidewalk mindlessly swinging his other arm while he kept talking on the phone. And then he finally ended the call with a silent bye.

Eh?

Poe would really rather spend time with me and catch up or argue over the past than be with his friends?

You expected him to end your talk as soon as he answered the phone, leaving you in the ice cold street and running back to the party to get drunk with his buddies. But he really did decline the offer just so he could spend more time with you.

“Ah, it was too cheesy, sorry.” He wasn’t apologetic at all, you could clearly tell by the wolfish grin. 

He first fumbled with his phone for a bit, it looked like he turned off notifications on it, before he put it back into his pocket. And then was all his attention on you again, making your insides twist in a happy feeling.

“So, what’s this Brazil thing about?”

FUCK!

Scratch the happy part; it was only nervousness now.

“Is it your little quirk?” And now he was staring at you fully again, making you squint in your clothes, not completely uncomfortable just not used to it. Some part of you even loved it, all the attention Poe gave you in the last what? 30minutes? Super fan of it. You couldn’t get enough. 

God, I hope this never ends. I hope some divine power can just put me into a loop where he is staring at me and smiling and all over again. I love this feeling more than anything. Wait, what was he saying?

“You know, your chewing loudly thing.” He tapped your elbow with his to catch your attention again. His eyes saying Come on, don't get lost on me. Waiting patiently for you to get your head straight.

“Oh.”

Oh. He is still really funny. 

“Yeah. Sort of?” Laugh escaped your lungs again, you were not sure yourself. Quirks were supposed to be kinda funny, right? Well, chewing loudly is not kinda funny so not really. “Yeah, I guess? I am not really sure actually.” Another laugh this time ripping right from your heart, nervous and twitching, ready to be swatted away as unwanted. 

“Cool.”

Oh. 

And there it was again. The incredible warmth spreading inside, anxiety turning from hard cold ice into a puddle and evaporating away over the heat Poe created in you.

Maybe it could actually work. Yeah, let’s try again. 

[flamerock-refuge]

I had a dream like this once. It's a fragment of a dream. I wish I could remember the whole thing. This episode captures the essence of the game perfectly. I think it would make a good fanfic. But I don't know how to expand the plot, so I'll just leave it here. (NFB brainrot goes brrr)

Last broadcast, Megan's speech.

"This is all for our most traumatised viewer... Alex, come on in, sit down. Oh, you can't leave your broadcast room. It's a shame the chair's gonna be empty. Then we'll have to guess your true attitude. Alex, tell me, what's it like to live with an eyewitness trauma...?"

I woke up slightly perplexed.

[the5thcellar]

i cant be the only one who thinks m is like....deeply sick (im saying this affectionately) for doing things like.....

1) deliberately picking a dress and hairstyle similar to her wedding day to walk the red carpet / celebrate her anniversary with chris, i.e. someone who is not her husband

2) basically admitting that karl used to be jealous of chris (AND STILL MIGHT BE), and agreeing that chris knows her better - all in the same breath - on national tv

3) repeatedly saying she feels safe with chris and he'd beat up (and kill) anyone who dares to hurt her (it's insane the number of times she's said this??? and also interesting she never says this about her own husband despite having talked about him many times as well)

4) saying there are things she ONLY wants to talk to chris about and that they have their own secret language their spouses will never get (??? Huhhh ???)

5) the fact she owns a secret apartment with him in nyc ??? and possibly other shared properties ???

6) ditching her own charity event to surprise him at the premiere of his show. what.

7) all the kisses. so many. just so many. do real spouses even kiss that much. i doubt it.

8) all the eyewitness accounts over the years of people who have worked with them saying how they're unbearably touchy and there's so much tension it's difficult to be in the same space? and how when chris is on the same set as m everyone knows not to take up her time because it belongs to him ?

9) loudly championing EO and calling her son on the show 'noah benson-stabler' is extra sick considering the thing about parallel universes. it's almost like EO to her is self-insert fanfic. if she can't have him loud & proud (and legally) irl and she can't be his babymama she can sure af do it on her own goddamn show, right?

10) and so many more.

look. im not the crazy one here. im just picking up what she's putting down. there is no way her marriage isn't open in some way.

i would feel sorry for karl but if he bore witness to how m was like around c and still pursued the r/s then he walked into this willingly.

[bisluthq]

deux is spilling the tea on the pod. i believe her joe source

which part lol? The one about him going on a date in NYC and having to leave because girls started asking about Taylor and his gf/whatever she was got upset? Yeah that part I believed 10000% lol. It was very probably a real eyewitness account and like… awks but such is the fate of Joe forevermore.

The stuff about a commitment ceremony that wasn’t a wedding at a made up garden cottage in the Lake District that’s also in London and him coming home to his locks being changed on an apartment (they didn’t have an apartment, they had a fully staffed house) I… don’t lol. Sorry. That sounded like fanfic which a lot of what Deux reads out is. The stuff about his phone plan being cut off and his brother’s (????) was also like WTF lmao. Why were him and ONE family member on her phone plan??

This person says they’re a FRIEND of a FRIEND who worked on Joe’s management team (that’s… fucking six degrees of separation right there even if this person is indeed a friend of a friend who worked for Joe’s management company how the FUCK would they know this shit???????) 😂😂😂 Like how would the friend of a friend of someone who worked for Joe’s management team know who pays for Joe’s brother’s phone plan?? I bought he lived with “roommates” tho for a bit most people who do LTR breakups go stay with friends and don’t rent a new place the next day.

The stuff about Matty and Taylor being ALONE after the show in Jan is demonstrably false because we only know about that because he had an NYT reporter with him who was there and MATTY left but Taylor continued hanging out a while longer. Unless you find Deux’s rando ramblings more reliable than the fucking NYT.

also wasn’t Matty with Ali Lohan not Lindsay? Or did he bang both sisters?

The bit about Joe being disparaging of her wanting to be Taylor Swift™️ and scoffing at it is probably true. He’s pretentious and she’s basically said he was being like that in her songs. My guess would be it was more about her plan to get an Oscar nom for the ATW MV than the Crawdads song like I can believe he straight up mocked her for that which… just shows he wasn’t as up her ass anymore and was a lot less in love and tbh didn’t love her enough to like “believe in her dream” or w/e.

and “the rock” in MA def wasn’t an engagement ring. It was a cat ring lol. And they proper proper denied it.

so basically some bits seem true, some really don’t as is always the case with Deux and which, I guess, is her brand.

[italianpersonwithashippersheart]

Hi super random question but what is the fanfic that you mentioned on the eyewitness poll i kinda like need it desperately

I am always happy to talk about great fanfics. It's a college verse, it has 60 fics. And it goes from the last few months of high school to college and them getting married and it's amazing, and it's basically canon in my head.

That's the link to series. Enjoy!!

[caelum-in-the-avatarverse]

Whenever I return to ATLA brainrot, I usually go through a re-re-read of your fanfics, and your Da Li OCs tend to take over my brain for a while.

Recently I’ve rewatched Avatar Day, and I’ve wondered how your OCs would react to literal Kyoshi showing up.

To me, Zan would probably be the most excited. I know she would be number 1 defender of Kyoshi from Chin defenders. But not like Aang, who tried to say she’s innocent, but Zan would argue that Kyoshi did the right thing. Not just that, I feel that if she learned of Kyoshi’s opinion on the present day Dai Li, she probably would feel more motivated to change the Dai Li back to how they once were.

Delun would probably shit himself at the sight of Kyoshi. You know, he probably would have wanted to go up and have a looooonnnnnggg conversation with her about probably everything.

Really anyone from the Preservation branch would love to see Kyoshi in person.

Listen. Every Preservation agent, at all times, is a massive simp for Kyoshi.

Oh, they're consummate professionals. They understand the importance of historical nuance. But also Avatar Kyoshi was objectively the greatest person to ever exist in all of history and anyone who says otherwise is wrong.

You are absolutely right, Zan would 100% defend Kyoshi in the exact way Aang wouldn't want to defend Kyoshi. Yeah, she killed Chin, she did it in the most spectacular way imaginable, and she was totally justified in doing so because he sucked. You want to insist that's not what happened? You have your "just us"? Zan has a stack of eyewitness accounts and primary sources.

Zan and the rest of Preservation would also be completely unsurprised at Kyoshi's opinion of the present-day Dai Li. Well, no, actually, they would be surprised...that Kyoshi would be more upset about the "secret police are bad, actually" thing, and less about the "the Dai Li don't focus on history anymore" thing. That's the thing about Preservation--just because they disagree with Long Feng, that doesn't make them "good". They don't like the fact that the Dai Li have become the secret police, but that's because they don't like that the Dai Li are the secret police. They feel like Long Feng should've co-opted some other government agency to micromanage the other rings and left the Dai Li to take care of the Upper Ring.

But yeah, if Zan ever met Avatar Kyoshi, her reaction would be one of "internally squealing fangirl professionally holding it together" lol

Delun would just go speechless with awe. And possibly cry.

Pretty much any Preservation agent would lose it if they ever got to meet Kyoshi (and a good chunk of the other agents, too; just cuz they aren't history buffs doesn't mean they don't revere her). When they realize that 1) the current Avatar can channel past Avatars, and 2) the Dai Li's strained relationship with Avatar Aang means they can't wheedle him into channeling Kyoshi on a whim, there's a definite resurgence in grumbling against Long Feng.

Also, ty for all the re-reads! I'm glad to be able to support your ATLA brainrot. ^_^

[nokingsonlyfooles]

WTYP: The Shandor Building, Part 2

[Do you like the colour of the fanfic? This is long and if you expand it you're gonna get the whole thing, because Tumblr hates you. Don't say I didn't warn you!]

Part 1

Part 2: The GD News (not really) Shandor Architecture Blows Your Mind

[Beware of strong language, mention of all kinds of death, gore, and Lovecraftian horror.]

[SLIDE: The Shandor Building, surrounded by ominous clouds, and a headshot of Ivo Shandor. Caption: NEW YORK DESTROYED AGAIN 1984 EDITION]

A: Right. Right. So, I have a question for you, gentlemen: who, or what, was Ivo Shandor?

L: Sounds like a billionaire.

A: And he looks like a nonce!

R: An early 20th century architect.

A: You’re both right, and so am I. He was also a quack doctor, a selenium mining magnate, a cult leader, and the last person ever documented to be ripped in half by an ancient Sumerian deity — after he resurrected himself in Summerville, Oklahoma, in 2021.

L: Boss.

R: I’ve been to Summerville. They have that temple he built at the bottom of a mine… Well, I mean, they did. Right up until he resurrected himself. You gotta watch out for that, with selenium. We used to use it in our electronics, but silicon’s better for that, and much less haunted.

L: That explains the internet.

R: I mean, we’re not using it for the internet. Mainly in glassmaking, and surge protectors. It’s all right in trace amounts, but you get enough selenium in one place and the ghosts start crawling out of the damn walls. You gotta put up at least a double-thick cold iron insulator, or some carbon steel. Fucking expensive. Not worth it, unless you’re a big fan of the paranormal.

A: Just so. In fact, next slide, please…

[SLIDE: A collage of various art deco buildings.]

A: …the paranormal activity associated with Shandor’s designs was so well-documented that by the mid 1950s, everyone who wanted to live or work in one of his buildings was required to sign a waiver, before even looking at them. I’ve looked everywhere for one of these waivers, but it seems like the mere association caused them to become hazardous as well. If anyone out there should happen to find one, for God’s sakes, email it to me, and then speak to your nearest mental health professional immediately.

L: Take a Zoloft, you’ll be fine.

R: Just walk it off.

A: According to what I could find, the standard language indemnified the buildings’ owners against any and all instances of madness, brain damage, murder, suicide… You might have to bleep that, Devon…

D [text over slide]: NO. FUCK IT. NOT AFTER THE DAY I’VE HAD.

A:… mutilation, speaking in tongues, and — specifically! — “cranial liberation of the pineal gland!” [laughing] Whatever the hell that means!

L [cackling]: What?

R [deadpan]: Nah, I wouldn’t sign that.

A: Well, I would, because these buildings fuck! I mean, look at those façades!

R: I like these little gargoyles right here. [outlining a pair of gargoyles in red, paying special attention to the horns] With the horns. Technically these things are called grotesques, ‘cause they don’t have a drain pipe, but people just call ‘em gargoyles. That’s where we get the verb “to gargle” too. Not a typical feature of art deco design, but Shandor sure did like ‘em. They’re not really sure whether he had a sense of humor or if he was just nuts.

L: Both, I like both.

R: Could be both, yeah.

A: Well, according to eyewitness testimony…

R: Not very reliable. [giving each gargoyle a smiling face, with dots for eyes]

A: …those stone statues came to life during the 1984 New York Incident — next slide, please! 

[SLIDE: The Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man, with a caption saying: Artist’s Depiction.]

A: …and summoned a 100-foot tall marshmallow man who attempted to end all life on Earth as we know it.

[crazed laughter, pandemonium]

R: Yeah, I don’t know if I buy that.

L: Sounds like another Macy’s Thanksgiving balloon snapped its tethers with murder in its heart.

R: Yeah, those balloons are famously angry. Ever since they started using helium, it’s like they got minds of their own. All things considered, helium may also be haunted.

A: Rows nine through eighteen of the Periodic Table are all fucking haunted.

L: A Macy’s Thanksgiving balloon has black eyes, like a doll’s eyes.

R: Yeah, I heard Snoopy ate a whole shipload of sailors during World War II. …Says here Sonic the Hedgehog injured a police officer in 1993, that really happened…

L: Yes! Sonic says ACAB!

A: What we have here is architecture that — at the very least! — is documented to drive people insane. And not in a sense that they’re so ugly or badly-designed that a human being forced to use them finds them offensive, not like a Calatrava. By all accounts they were quite beautiful, and above all functional, and even — this was a rarity at the turn of the 20th century — accessible. Almost as if they wanted people to stay in them. One long-term resident, who had to be removed from Shoggoth Square Gardens by force, is quoted as gibbering, “This building is my heart. This building is Mother. This building has flawless, convenient kitchens and a jacuzzi tub in every unit.” He later gouged out both eyes and flung himself from the roof of a Bed, Bath and Beyond in a fit of despair.

L: Bed, Bath and Beyond?

R: [laugh] Must’ve been after the “beyond” department.

L: When the hell did that happen?

A: 1979, well before they started closing them down. Er, both the Shandor buildings and Bed, Bath and Beyonds.

R: The first Bed, Bath and Beyond was opened in 1971, in New Jersey…

L: No wonder they’re cursed. What was the New York building like? The one with the marshmallow man.

A: It was a high rise apartment building. By all accounts spacious, affordable, and conveniently located at Central Park West.

L: Fuck.

R: Yeah, that’ll do it.

L: Is it still there?

A: It was retrofitted and subdivided after the incident and it will now cost you $6000 per month for twenty square feet — that is not a typo, twenty square feet — which includes a hammock and an electric kettle. There are no bathrooms or running water and residents are advised to, and I quote, “hold it.” All that remains of the original design is the façade, which is, sadly, not at all haunted.

L: Goddammit.

R: Pretty standard.

A: There was simply something intrinsic to the designs, or the materials…

R: Selenium. It’s the selenium.

L: Selenium poisoning.

A: Could be the selenium, yes. The paranormal equivalent of lead paint and asbestos…

R: It gets the job done!

A: But the point is, we’re not sure, and every single one of these buildings was like this, regardless of its shape or function. Now, next slide, please…

R: You’re sitting right next to me.

Part 3

[apricusapollo]

Fic Writer 20 Questions

thanks for the tag @babygirlbridger 🤭💞

1.) How many works do you have on ao3?

40 🚶🏻‍♀️ I am supposed to have more but I archived some a while ago because they were so bad

2.) What’s your ao3 word count?

572,080

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

I've written for haikyuu but I'm not really in that fandom anymore so now I mainly write for star wars & red white and royal blue. occasionally marauders fandom too.

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

paper rings - jegulus

somethin' stupid (like, "I love you") - jegulus

english lover affair - firstprince

golden says of yore - jegulus

running through rose thorns - firstprince

6.) What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

definitely until the sunrise hold me tight. sometimes I wonder what I was high on when I wrote that.

7.) What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

paper rings <33

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

nope, never gotten it.

9.) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I started a while ago and it's lowkey soo fun ngl 🤭 I usually used to avoid writing it but. not anymore.

10.) Do you write cross overs? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

oh boy. I used to. my very first famous fanfic was called fragile world. used to post it on Instagram and wattpad. it included *clears throat* shadowhunters, glee, 13 reasons why, skam, eyewitness 🧍🏻‍♀️ but in my defense I was, what, 12-13? I have CHANGED.

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

yeaa it was kiss in the kitchen. someone reposted it on wattpad without my permission and gabby found it and told me. they did take it down after I told them to tho.

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

YEAH!! made me so happy.

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

well usually me and yana come up with the plot of my fics together sometimes. there's this one jegulus fic based on a couple of hamilton songs I wanna write and yana came up with more than half of the plot so yeah!! that counts!!

14.) What’s your all time favourite ship?

I think firstprince. they're just so. *muffled sobs*

15.) What’s a WIP you’d like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

in 2021 I started writing iwaoi attack on titan au. I had outline ready, I wrote 2 chapters out of 5 and all of that. then I never continued it. it still exists in my docs but I forgot half of the plot so I doubt I'll ever finish and post it but who knows. never say never.

16.) What are your writing strengths?

writing angst?? Idk I think I'm quite good at that for a girl who has never had her heart broken (in a romantic sense)

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

DESCRIPTIONS. god I HATE describing things. I'd rather die than describe anything.

18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I mean, I don't think I'll succeed (unless it's in georgian which is my native language) and considering that I mess up english sometimes, maybe it's for the best if I just stick to one language 😭😭

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

one direction. I was 9 y/o. write it in a notebook with a sparkly pen. it was called "love."

20.) Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

I have a couple so here's the list idc

paper rings

english love affair

sacred touches & wasted days

the end is here

better than revenge ('cause he's like so whatever)

champagne problems

(I'm too lazy to attach links to all of them so here's my ao3)

again, I hate tagging people so pls do this if u wanna mwah<3

[titaniumpsychologist]

Duality of Light // Tue 2038-12-14 // Part Two (teaser? ish?)

I'd been so bogged down with work, research, and presentations this summer, and the semester is starting up again in the next few weeks? And two days ago a huge project was dumped on me for my research? After trying so hard to get this next chapter done? Aggghhh. I love what I'm doing, but I have no time for writing fanfic 😞

Because I feel bad that I haven't been able to put out a chapter for this fic on Ao3 for so long, I'm gonna share another snippet at least for those here on tumblr. Not yet edited (the chapter is looking to be 15k-16k before editing. RIP.) but I feel that these sections are closer to what I want to be in the Ao3-ready version that I intend to publish once I find time again to work on it.

FYI, even though this isn't the whole chapter, it's still a bit of a read (about 4000 words). So please don't freak out if you see the huge wall of text when clicking that "read more." Also, this obviously makes no sense if you haven't read the fic on Ao3, so here's the parts that come before it here lol (please heed the warnings and tags at the top of the fic): https://archiveofourown.org/works/37467820/chapters/93505051

Warnings, tags, and fic spoilers under the cut:

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: Gen

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)

Relationships: Connor & Gavin Reed | Hank Anderson & Connor | Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed

Characters: Connor (Detroit: Become Human) | Gavin Reed | Hank Anderson | Elijah Kamski

Tags (straight from Ao3): Enemies to Friends | Found Family | everyone is bad at feelings | Gavin Reed Redemption | Android Gavin Reed | Connor Deserves Happiness | Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Half-Siblings | Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human) | Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human) | Angst and Feels | Drama | Connor is a Mess (Detroit: Become Human) | Tags May Change | Other Additional Tags to Be Added | Warnings May Change | Gavin Reed Being an Asshole | Gavin Reed Being Less of an Asshole | Canon-Typical Violence | Post-Canon | Reconciliation | Pacifist Markus (Detroit: Become Human) | Elijah Kamski Being Elijah Kamski | like seriously Elijah why did you do this to my plot now I gotta deal with the consequences | The Author Regrets Everything | all the happy tags are endgame so buckle up for a long ride | It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better | Good Parent Hank Anderson | Implied/Referenced Suicide | Implied/Referenced Character Death | now with workskin | No Romance | sorry i can't write romance but if you see something if you squint i won't stop you lol | Grief/MourningIdentity | Case Fic | Angst with a Happy Ending | Connor Needs A Hug | Everyone Needs A Hug | Character Death? | Character Death | Betrayal | Dubious Morality

Tue 2038-12-14 // Part Two

Irrelevant.

Possible lead?

Irrelevant.

Irrelevant.

Irrelevant. Irrelevant. Irrelevant. Irrelevant. Irrelevant. Irrelevant. Irrelevant. Irrelevant…

Another lead to follow, higher in priority. Connor made a side note to reference it later.

Irrelevant. Irrelevant. Irrelevant.

Indeterminate, no leads.

He paused in his interface with his terminal, going over all the case files that the DPD had and seeing if there was a possible connection with them and their current case that involved the recent murders.

>> CR# 11762

>>> STATUS - CLOSED

Closed case. It might've not been related, however, there were several redacted notes that made it nearly incomprehensible and possibly even unimportant because it was considered a resolved report under normal police procedure. There was enough information in it that, knowing what he knew now, Connor had reason to believe that the people involved in this report was Reed and Stevens. Eyewitness report, but who was this eyewitness? Who were these people involved in their extraction?

And then there was a similar copy that was with the data that was seized from Kamski's property for their investigation. It was related to their case, beyond all reasonable doubt, but how can a report that detailed the events that started it all have so little to go on? He was so quick to label it as "indeterminate," too, because it didn't register as something important with a cursory parsing through the database.

He withdrew his hand from the interface. He should bring this up to Hank. Maybe this needed organic eyes to make sense of all of this.

However, when he turned to ask him something, he saw Hank fully engrossed in his own terminal and stacks and stacks of case files near to toppling off his desk, an intensity in his expression that he hadn't seen before. Lieutenant Anderson had a focus or… feeling around him that said to anyone watching that he was a man on a mission and nothing would stop him to accomplish it.

That was a feeling that Connor knew, and maybe even he missed, that feeling where he had no doubts to distract him, no layers and layers of emotions that he had to parse through first before redirecting his path towards accomplishing his mission.

No, he should stop thinking like that. This was better than being a machine. This, and all its troubles was better than going back to what he was before.

He dug into his pocket, taking care to avoid brushing his fingers against the storage drive and brought out his coin. There was a strange feeling—another glitch, maybe—when Connor held his quarter in his hand again. There were so many things that he didn't know about life, about humanity, about Hank, about Reed.

About himself.

Given that he was a prototype, other people didn't know much about him, either. Except Reed had a possible answer as to why he did a few things the way he did, like his quarter. He liked dogs, but why? He had his Zen garden in his mind palace, empty and fractured it may be right now, but why? Could they all be related? Could understanding the different choices behind the design of his basic programming help him fix all the errors he was experiencing in his software?

He wondered maybe it was mutual. Maybe he knew more about Reed than what Reed knew about himself. At the very least, he had the rest of Reed's fragmented programming sitting at the bottom of his pocket.

Referring to his directories holding all his references and cross-references with his experiences with emotions, he dredged aup a word for the strange feeling.

Dread.

He stood from his seat as he pulled up the building's map and navigated himself to the rooftop. Reed wasn't the only one who needed a change in scenery today.

[scene break]

Connor was wrong. He had to be.

"I think many people care about you, Detective Reed."

Gavin tapped impatiently at the side of his terminal input, waiting for the database to load all the information they had on their case. Damn, did they end up with a big one. His eyes glossed over the titles of some files, recognizing the naming system Elijah used. The information on the victims in the case updated with Chloe's information. Deactivated.

Dead.

He turned off the screen, keeping the process running, but not wanting to really see more of it yet.

Or ever.

Tina passed by his desk, pulling out a memorandum from Fowler and putting it on a stack of papers next to him. And he noticed a small scribble of her handwriting on one corner: "You're the baddest bitch in town."

A stupid motivational message as condescending as always.

Gavin felt a firm thud at the back of his chair as Chris went to get up, accidentally knocking his desk chair against Gavin's for the thousandth time and immediately trying to apologize and offering to get him a coffee from the break room to make up for the slight. For all he knew, with how much Chris had done it, he did it on purpose.

It was all routine. Even when Gavin had a literal life change and had to have a whole reclassification of his employment files, Chen and Miller still kept to routine. He should be mad at them. He should be angry that they weren't angry at the whole injustice that this all was. They worked alongside this lie for years. Shouldn't they also feel betrayed?

Shouldn't they all see what a fucked up mess this was?

Chris brought him his coffee, as promised, smiling at him before placing it Tina's handwriting on the memo and returning to his own desk.

Gavin took a peeved sip of the coffee.

People cared about him?

He skimmed the memo from Fowler, a notice that he was going to have to do a press meeting about how fucking slowly Anderson, Connor, and Gavin were making any kind of headway into their case because media finally noticed that Elijah was in the police station a bit too long. Almost as if he was being held for a crime.

The thought of having to somehow get him to answer to the fucked-up shit he did made him grip the page a lot tighter, nearly damaging a few pixels on the digital paper.

But then he saw Tina's words in looped cursive, a skill that was utterly useless, but she insisted on practicing her handwriting whenever she could because she felt she could at least leave a human touch on things in her own way.

"You're the baddest bitch in town," Gavin whispered, reading the words with a half-chuckle.

He sighed and turned the memo over. Scrubbed his eyes. He blindly reached for his coffee and took another sip. It was steaming hot but the pain didn't register, and damn, now that he thought about it, he wondered how we went on for so long never noticing that detail. He wondered if anyone had noticed his lack of reaction towards a burning hot liquid.

Someone must have.

Anyone.

Gavin stared down into the dark liquid of his cup, its surface catching the lights in the ceiling.

There was a mole in the DPD. They must've known.

Gavin turned his head slightly, watching Chris as he typed out a report. Could he have been the mole?

What about Tina? Could she have known? Were these condescending messages a hint toward something else? Or were they actually people that cared? Were they people without ulterior motives? Chris had a family to take care of. Tina had her sister and her mom to look out for. Both of them would have too much at stake to be playing at two sides. Were they people willing to sacrifice what they had for the sake of greed?

"How's Damian doing?" Gavin asked, spinning his chair around to face Chris.

"What—?" Chris stopped his typing and turned his own chair around. "Oh! Uh… He's doing good. Why'd you ask?"

"Just wondering."

"Are you… okay?"

"Fuckin' peachy."

"Are you sure? Honest answer, please."

Gavin let out a short laugh. "Of fucking course not, but I'm managing."

"I'm… sorry to hear that." Chris scratched the back of his neck. "If… you wanna talk about it—"

"Why do you do it?" Gavin asked. "You and Tina. The notes. The coffee. Why?"

"Because it's a nice thing to do? Learning about what you're going through right now… We can't even imagine. We thought with how much is changing for you, you might appreciate if we kept a few things like they were before. At the end of the day, you're still our coworker, and we watch each other's backs."

"Right." Gavin sighed and shook his head. "Right. Of course."

"Is there a problem? That you're… okay with sharing, obviously."

"Nah, I'm good. That's a good answer."

"…okay?" Chris returned to working on his report. Gavin could see that Chris wasn't "okay" with the probing, but at least he seemed cool with leaving it at that for now. He mulled over Chris' answer.

They only did it to be nice.

Damn it. This case was getting into his head.

Okay, so maybe Connor had a point? People cared about him, or at least maybe Miller and Chen did. Maybe not in the way he'd want them to, but they did in their own way. Maybe in the way he needed them to.

Gavin snuck a quick glance over to where Connor sat at his desk from across the bullpen, his coworker in the middle of an interface with the terminal, LED still having one spot perpetually stuck on yellow.

And Connor said he cared.

After a few moments, Connor turned to Anderson and opened his mouth to say something, but his LED quickly flashed to red with that one dot of not-red. Connor really should get that light of his checked. Weren't those supposed to be indicators for what kind of processes were running in their heads?

Gavin couldn't imagine anyone having a glimpse of what was really going on in his head, how exposing it would be to not have that amount of privacy in the least.

Maybe that's why some androids chose to remove theirs.

But that posed the question of why Connor still had his.

Connor frowned, withdrawing his hand and stuffing it into his pocket, bringing out that coin he always had on him. He must've noticed that Gavin was watching him, since he inclined his head a bit in his direction before standing and leaving his desk.

Must've given up on telling Anderson what he wanted to say. The lieutenant was engrossed in the stacks of case files on his desk and was wholly unaware of Connor's leave.

Fucking Anderson. Even if he supposedly got his act together, he was still dropping the ball like he always did.

Gavin shook his head disapprovingly.

So maybe people cared about Gavin.

But how many cared about Connor? In the way they needed to?

Gavin pressed his hands against the top of his knees as he watched Connor take the door to the rooftop access stairs. Gavin debated whether he should follow him, pressing his hands firmer against the grain of his jeans enough to leave indents when he removed his palms to look at them. He caught a glimpse of his split knuckle as he did so.

…fuck it.

[scene break]

Going up here was a mistake.

Connor gripped the chainlink fence surrounding the half-walls of the rooftop as another… 

…preconstruction?

…memory?

Whatever it was, it assaulted his sensors, making it nearly impossible to focus on any other inputs he was trying to override it with. He was fine when he made his way up here. The malfunction triggered by seeing how high up he was.

Fighting. Blood spattering in crimson and sapphire. The mission to kill Markus. To kill these DPD officers. To kill Hank. All these people getting in the way of his main objective. This wasn't what he wanted to remember of what he used to be the days before the revolution.

What could've been.

But maybe he needed to. Maybe this was how he could keep from ever wanting to be a machine again.

If only Hank weren't so prominent in these malfunctions.

"Hey!" Reed called from suddenly too close behind him. How had he not noticed that he followed him up here? "What the fuck are you doing?"

Connor tried to speak, to exit the processes that were currently running this preconstruction, but he found that he couldn't. His grip on the fence tightened, rattling the metal as he trembled.

He couldn't let go.

He couldn't exit the nightmare program still running.

He was stuck.

And someone, worst of all Detective Reed, was watching him as he tried to pull his programming together and failing. No one was supposed to know. They didn't need to.

He felt his breaths quickening, too hot, his stress rising, stress-sensor still broken.

"Connor?" Reed asked him.

Connor tried to loosen his fingers, to at least hide how much he was shaking. Tried again to turn off the bombardment of fists and gunshots and dropping Hank from the building—no, Hank charging at him and falling—no, Hank shoving?—dropping?—him from the building.

Then it stopped.

He found that Reed had brought him away from the fence and closer to the rooftop access door.

"Shit, why the hell are you burning up?" Reed said under his breath.

Connor brushed off Reed's hands on him and he took off his jacket to try to cool down, his armband dropping onto the thin layer of snow on the roof. Reed stooped to pick it up, hesitated, then handed it to him.

"My stress was too high," Connor said. "Androids tend to overheat once stress reaches a certain point."

"Right. Right. The orientation. That uh… is a thing that happens. Right."

Connor could tell that Reed wanted to say something else, but instead looked away.

"You good now?" Reed said after a few moments.

"Yes. Why are you here?"

"Wanted to check on you. Y'know… 'cuz uh… you checked on me earlier. When I…" He rolled his wrist, circling his hands ambiguously in the air. Both of their gazes went to Reed's split knuckle on one of his fingers. He cleared this throat. "What was that?"

Connor draped his jacket in the crook of his elbow after replacing his band where it belonged around his arm. "It was nothing."

"Nah, not this again. You need to get this checked, whatever the fuck this is."

"I will," Connor said.

"You better," Reed said. "Because that was…" He exhaled, chewed a little bit on the inside of his lip. "That shit didn't look fun to experience."

"And how would you know?"

"I… get like that, kinda. Sometimes. Maybe it's different, being uh… different… android models but… Maybe not all that different, considering…" Another wrist roll. "All our shit."

He could see how carefully Reed tried to pick his words, as if he didn't know how to talk about whatever it was he was trying to get at. Both unable to bring themselves to talk about something so… unpleasant. There was a small rumble from deep in Connor's chest, and he couldn't help but pull the corners of his mouth upward.

Connor laughed.

"How the fuck could you be laughing right now?" Reed asked, half in his usual irritation, other half something… concerned?

"I don't know," Connor said in between fits. He started up again, this time with even more force. It wasn't until he realized that there was moisture running down his face. He brushed it away with his sleeve, and felt even more running down his chin, and he realized that he was crying.

Laughter morphed into sobbing.

"I don't know," Connor said, his vocal modulator stuttering. "I don't know, Detective Reed."

"Shit," Reed said. "Shit. Uh…" Running his hands through his hair, Reed shuffled his feet, and then: "I should get Anderson."

"No," Connor said, grabbing Reed by the elbow as he was about to leave. Why couldn't he stop crying? "He can't know."

He expected Reed to just ignore him and go on with getting Hank. Instead, Reed nodded. "Okay, what do you need me to do?"

"Forget you saw anything."

Reed huffed out a breath and nodded. "Alright."

Reed wasn't putting up a fight about this?

"What?" Connor said.

"I'll forget this happened," Reed said. "Or pretend at least. As long as you tell me what the fuck is going on."

Connor looked down at his jacket and his shirt sleeves. The saline had frozen into small beads of frost, with more continuing to be added to it. And these were his new clothes, too.

He started sobbing again, not because of his clothes, but because of all the things he could be thinking of, he was concerned about something so trivial. Maybe his software was getting dangerously unstable.

"I'm scared," Connor said softly. "I don't know what's wrong with me, and… I don't like where it's going." He swiped at his eyes, catching more of his tears with the cuff of his sleeve. "I don't think anyone can fix it."

"What is 'it', Connor?"

"I had an AI handler," Connor said. "I destroyed her after she took over my functions to try to assassinate Markus, and I damaged several parts of my software in the process."

Reed brushed the scar on his nose, not saying anything as he looked off into the distance. "Her…?"

There it was, that look again. Right before he gave Connor information about his fixation about his quarter.

"Can you describe this handler?" Reed asked.

"Her name was Amanda," Connor said. "I believe she was modeled after Kamski's former mentor, Amanda Stern."

Reed's hand dropped and formed into a fist. "Fuck. He did not. He did not fucking do that." He sighed and shook his head. "Sorry. Continue. Why are you afraid of getting rid of her? Sounds like she was a real bitch if she tried to take control of you."

"She was… amicable at first." Connor said. "I thought I could've trusted her. She was a part of my programming, acting as a liaison between me and CyberLife but for her to take complete control was…"

Cold. Bracing against a harsh blast of chill, Amanda making him take aim at Markus, as he stumbled and crawled his way to the emergency exit. A gunshot rang in Amanda's triumph—

Reed shook his shoulder. "Hey, you're doing that thing again."

"Sorry." Connor moved his jacket to his other arm to use another sleeve to wipe the moisture from his eyes. "I'm not too pleased with the possibility that she's not completely gone. I don't want Hank to know, because he's aware of what she was capable of and what she tried to make me do, but I don't want him to worry about it."

"And what would 'it' be?"

"I don't want him to worry about—" Connor closed his eyes the moment he caught what his next words would be.

"About what? Her coming back? You losing control?"

Connor shook his head. Those were concerns of his, yes, but… it was more than that when it came to Hank. That wasn't what he was about to say.

Again, that unnamed emotion rose up to the top of his processes, error codes and all. That feeling—he hated it. But he could feel it start to corrupt the controls in his speech synthesizers, as if that feeling wanted a way to escape…

…and he didn't want to keep fighting it.

"I don't want him to worry about losing me. I don't want him to worry about me… dying."

Reed's expression softened. A little sadder. A little… lost.

[scene break]

Gavin had to step away, hearing Connor admit that; had to resist cupping his hands over his ears and shoving the memory away. Connor no longer had to say anything else to explain his situation, because that was something Gavin knew intimately.

His feet had stilled near the entryway of a hospital room, hovering near enough to the opening to overhear the whirring and beeps of machines helping to stave off the inevitable as his mother talked to Chloe before she went off to surgery. A surgery that would help take her pain away, but with complications that would take her away years later.

"It's not that, Chloe," Mom had said as Gavin eavesdropped on their conversation. He hadn't trusted that machine to be alone in the same room as her, especially not after witnessing the destruction Chloe created of that ST200. "I worry him enough. I don't want him to worry about losing me, but… you know how Gav is. He's stubborn enough to act like it doesn't bother him, but he's already lost his brother to his inventions. I don't want him to feel like he'll lose his mother the same way. You'll keep an eye on both of them for me, will you? You'll keep them from doing anything they might regret later?"

"I'm afraid I can't make any promises for the latter," Chloe had said. "But I can assure you that I will watch over them for you the best way I can."

"Good. That's good, Chloe. You're doing really well, I hope you know that." A long sigh. "I wish that Eli were here."

"He wasn't able to attend due to several business meetings today, but I can at least tell him for you later."

"I would like that. Thank you. Oh, and Chloe, before you go get Gavin." A pause. "Keep this for me. It's a gift."

Gavin shook out his hands, giving them a break from how much he was clenching and unclenching them. It was hard to believe those memories were not real.

And damn if he was going to just stand by seeing someone else feeling like his mom did that day and not do or say anything about it.

"Alright, here's what we're gonna do," Gavin said, shoving the memory back and trying to keep to the present with Connor. "I won't tell Anderson, like I promised, got it? I'll even pretend I didn't see anything up here, but there's a huge… something about this that you're not confronting. And believe me when I say I get it."

Connor's processing LED spun yellow—for good reason this time and not looking like a glitch. "Why are you doing this, Detective Reed? I find your change in demeanor surprising, if I'm honest."

Damn Connor for being so perceptive, even after experiencing a full-blown panic attack in the middle of a flashback—or whatever it was that Connor was experiencing. It was fucking disturbing to have to witness someone like Connor in the throes of what looked like a trauma response.

There was no fucking way Anderson of all people didn't notice something was up.

But he promised Connor he'd keep quiet just to get him to talk through it because, goddamn, was that not fun to watch.

So why was he doing this for him? Why was he willing to stick his neck out again for someone? Connor could end up being another Ray, or another Eli, or another Leah, or Mom, or Dad, or…

Or maybe he really wanted to believe that Connor was different. Maybe he was the exception to the rule.

Maybe Gavin was open to hoping again.

"Alright, I'll add another condition to forgetting this happened," Gavin said, holding up his index finger to emphasize. "You don't fucking say what I'm gonna say to anyone, got it?"

A small smile stretched across Connor's lips, and he nodded. "Of course, Detective."

"You weren't that bad of company for lunch, and I thought about what you said, earlier. About people caring, about you being one of them and maybe I wanted to return the favor. At least a little."

Connor's smile widened, same crooked way he did earlier. "I see. Thank you, Detective Reed."

"Remember what I said, Connor," Gavin said. "Tell anyone I said this, and I'll tell Anderson."

Connor laughed. It was a good laugh, not as strangled as it was before, which meant that Gavin was at least not completely fucking this up. A blue LED was also a good sign, too, but with Connor, that could be a false positive.

Gavin still couldn't quite shake the feeling that Connor was still hiding something. He wanted to ask, but… after what happened earlier?

Maybe it was nothing.

[bookworm-of-camelot]

I was tagged by @oldshrewsburyian, so thank you!

Rules: List ten books that have stayed with you in some way, don’t take but a few minutes, and don’t think too hard - they don’t have to be the “right” or “great” works, just the ones that have touched you.

The Dragonfly Pool by Eva Ibbotson (it is just the perfect children's story that explores themes of grief, war, and found family in such a beautiful way.

The Last Olympian by Rick Riordan (Percy has always been and continues to be one of my all time favourite characters and this book was both important to him as a character but also to me... little did I know that there were more books to come)

Twilight (because with all of its flaws I loved it and the characters... I mean I'm still reading twilight fanfic so...)

A Discovery of Witches (I sense a pattern here, but I have a soft spot for vampires, not Dracula and Lestat but more along the lines of Matthew Clairmont. This just has everything I want from a book, supernatural creatures, forbidden love, magic...)

This isn't really a book but I'll include it anyway - John Keats' Narrative Poems (we studied these poems in sixth form and my John Keats obsession began, this led to me going to Italy mostly to see his house there, it also led to me volunteering at his house in Hampstead and memorising La Belle Dame Sans Merci for the fun of it)

Yours Truly by Abby Jimenez (this is a recent read but its become a firm favourite, I like books that make me feel seen and this book is one of them because I related to Jacob and his anxiety issues so much)

This might be funny since I don't think I read it in its entirety ever but it still had a big impact on me - DK Eyewitness Guides: Archaeology (this book basically made me aspire to become an archaeologist since I was maybe 9? I feel like this book sparked that love I have for history. Ultimately I did study archaeology at uni, I may not be an archaeologist but I did a masters in History and am currently doing a PhD in History and I owe it partially to this book)

A Court of Mist and Fury by Sarah J. Maas (I don't care what people have to say about this book or this series but its a comfort read for me)

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (yet another comfort read and saw the introduction of one of my fave characters, Remus Lupin)

Femina by Janina Ramirez (I will forever be obsessed with medieval history and I devour books on the subject, this one approached it from a different lens and really shed light on overlooked topics which really made it a compelling read.)

I tag anyone who fancies doing this 😊

[dreamcatcher92]

I’ve decided that I’m going to branch out with my writing and work on some true crime and paranormal stories as well. Everything that I will be writing about will be based on eyewitness accounts and interviews. I’ll still be continuing with my fanfics about Ben Barnes and his various characters that he’s portrayed as well! I hope the followers that I have and those who choose to follow me from here on enjoy my content! ☮️💟

[its-moopoint]

Hi moo, so Odessa has an entire post about Graham's wife dressing, styling hair, looking like C but gets POd when it's suggested the Mik picture shippers claim is C on set, could actually be Grahams wife, not C. Lol

Yes, ain't that funny. All the "sightings" and the reflections and that shit, eyewitnesses blurting "brunette" and.... BOOM! Within 1 separation degree from him you have 3 clones you can't tell apart from each other at a single glance.

Oh their SC fanfic has more holes than a Gruyere.