#half of that is like you know losing a game 5 and being dragged back to edmonton and all the plane troubles

[ratatatastic]

a whole almost 2 months and a stanley cup later...

[reminiscingtonight]

Imaginary (Girl)Friend

Leah Williamson x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

[WOSO Masterlist]

You never talk about Leah. 

She’s your best friend, your better half, the first person you think to tell anything to. But you still never talk about Leah. 

You don’t talk about the fact that the two of you grew up together. Or that she prefers the crust cut off her plain ham sandwiches. Or how she stays up late just to call you even after playing a late night game away from home. 

You never talk about Leah because no one knew who she was. To you, she’s the most amazing person you know, the only person you’ll ever give your heart to. To everyone else, she’s simply another nameless face on another football team. 

And then the Euros happened.

The Euros happened, England won, and everyone started noticing Leah.

It’s hard at first. To watch your normally shy girlfriend have to shoulder the constant attention from both fans and media alike, to go from unknown to stopped every five seconds for a picture. Where Leah once held your hand while strolling on Sunday walks now became group outlettings lest you manage to secure an indoor date somewhere secluded.

Leah didn’t want you being dragged to national attention with her, and after watching the toll it took on her, you meekly agreed. While Leah became a professional footballer, you went to college, got a job, and now work a normal 9 to 5. Being famous for any reason, let alone dating someone famous, was something you never had an interest in.

So no, you don’t talk about Leah the footballer.

Leah the girlfriend however… you talk about her quite too much. 

But your friends always let you gush your heart out about the girl who’s had your heart since you were teenagers.

It’s friends like these that you treasure. They never push too hard, understanding when you skirt around bringing your girlfriend out to public events with large crowds. A couple of them are newer to the group, friends from work, but still respectful all the same.

Some of you even formed a recreational futsal team, just something to do after work once a week. It’s fun, getting to use some of those football skills you’ve acquired through your childhood playing on youth teams. 

Today’s one of those days. After wrapping up the last of your paperwork, you all pile into a car and make your way to the community center. 

The first half goes by quickly, not really memorable in any way.  

You’re taking a quick water break during half-time when one of your friends suddenly stiffens. 

“Holy shit.”

You look up to see her eyes widen at a spot over your shoulder. 

“What?” you ask, alarmed, trying to see what she’s looking at. But two hands on your shoulder stops you quickly, jerking you right back to face her.

“Don’t look, but I think a couple of the Lionesses are sitting in the bleachers, watching our game.”

You almost trip ripping yourself out of her grip, doing the exact opposite of what she just said.

Sure enough, you can spot the Three Best Friends huddled near the back of the bleachers, baseball caps and hoodies on as if that combo would actually help someone go incognito.

Almost as if she can feel your gaze, Leah’s face brightens, resting scowl turning into a grin as she waves at you. Before you can so much as react, a hand on your arm spins you back around.

“Oh my god, what are we going to do? I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of the Leah Williamson, Keira Walsh, and Georgia Stanway!”

You snort, gently shaking her hands off. “First off, it’s just rec futsal. If we lose it’s nothing that life ending. Also, we can always blame it on the court if we play poorly.”

She doesn’t look convinced, but the whistle from the ref calls before you can convince her some more. 

Taking your spot on the court again, you can’t help but feel a bit giddy. With the constant attention and numerous commitments clogging up your girlfriend’s schedule, it’s been a while since Leah’s come to one of your games. 

And so what if you end up showing off a little bit? Your girlfriend is here watching and you’re only human.

By the time the game ends, your team is up by six, four scored by you.

“God damn, we should try to invite the Lionesses out every week if you’re going to ball out like that when they’re here,” Riley jokingly complains, laughing when you shove her back playfully.

“Speaking of the Lionesses…”

Spinning around you see your girlfriend and her friends starting their descent down to the court. You skip to meet them halfway, ignoring the awestruck looks coming from all around. 

Leah gives you a quick hug before pulling back, mindful of prying eyes. 

“Leah! What are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to surprise my girl,” she mumbles, cheeks burning bright red as she instinctively pulls her cap down tighter on her head. “That’s okay right? I just haven’t seen you play live in a while and I--”

“Of course it’s fine.” Your cheeks are starting to hurt a bit by how wide you’re smiling.

You turn quickly to her two friends by her side. 

“Happy to see you guys too! Thanks for coming out.”

Georgia and Keira exchange devilish grins before each throwing an arm around your shoulders. 

“We would’ve come out to a match sooner if lovergirl over here hadn’t gatekeeped when your games were.”

Keira nods dramatically. “It was like pulling teeth with this one, trying to convince her to let us tag along today. You’d almost think she wanted us to forget she had a girlfriend.”

Leah rolls her eyes at the accusations. “A). I wasn’t gatekeeping. B). It was like pulling teeth today --- you wouldn’t give me a moment of peace until I agreed. And C). If I wanted you to forget I had a girlfriend, we wouldn’t be here having this conversation.”

“Pshh, as if you could make us forget our favorite Milton Keynes native. We’d choose her in the divorce,” Georgia quips, ignoring the eyebrow Leah raises her way.

Before the three of them can get in a shoving match, you suddenly remember your friends that you’ve left behind.

“Wait, let me introduce you guys to my teammates.”

Your friends look shell-shocked, eyes darting between you and the little posse of professional footballers you’ve amassed around you when you return. 

“Guys, this is my girlfriend Leah and her two friends.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence. Then a whispered, “why are you introducing three Lionesses to us as if you have dinner together on the regular?” Riley honestly looks like she’s about to pass out, but you decide to humor her a bit.

“Because I do? Keira and G come down sometimes during breaks, and I do live with Leah. So…” 

Your explanation seems pretty straightforward to you, but if anything, it only makes things more confusing for your friends.  

They exchange looks with each other before Riley cautiously asks, “You were being serious about that?”

It’s your turn to be confused, face scrunching up. “What do you mean?”

“Well you kept talking about your mysterious girlfriend Leah without ever introducing us to her…”

“Or showing us a picture,” another voice adds on, trying to be helpful.

“We just kinda assumed Leah wasn’t real,” Riley finishes off lamely.

You roll your eyes, elbowing your girlfriend when you feel Leah snort next to you.

She recovers quickly, giving your friends a smile. “Well rest assured, the girlfriend is very much real. It’s nice to meet you guys, I’m Leah.”

[crystalelemental]

Going on anon because I’ll get flamed for my opinions but replaying Gen 5 sucks

The story drags, pokemon locations are stupid (seriously why is deino only in VICTORY ROAD), you’ll be underleveled for the most part unless you want to Audino grind, and (my most controversial take) I really don’t like BW Bianca and Cheren. N’s alright but since everyone goes “we have different viewpoints :)” anytime N tries to challenge the status quo it’s grating after a while

Somehow I had more fun replaying X than Black, and I’m sure if I said that on Twitter I’d be killed on sight

Also why did the shadow triad walk us across that straight line bridge in chargestone cave and not instead walk us towards the exit, I was so lost and on low hp trying to get out

It's alright anon, you're safe here.

On the point of Cheren and Bianca...I liked them well enough because of when I first played, but replaying they are a lot less compelling. A lot of their dialogue is repetitive and focused on the same beats. Cheren is just "What is the meaning of my strength?" over and over, while Bianca does absolutely nothing but hang back wondering about what she should be doing. It takes the second game for them to truly complete their arc. I can't say they're my favorite. My hot take is I don't think N is that compelling. My wife and I talk a lot about modern games (Galar and Paldea) doing this annoying thing where you're a special person who just shitstomps everyone else's dreams for your personal whims (Hop, Marnie, Kieran), and I feel like Gen 5 is where that really started happening thanks to N. The player is instantly imbued with a sense of being special and superior, because only your Pokemon seems to be super happy enough for N to question what he believes. His response to this is then to seek you out but also act like any refusal you have to his call is a personal affront. He gets kinda nasty about you saying No to any of his questions and probes. And again, the whole situation could be an interesting ethical dilemma, but the game doesn't want to contend with it so anyone who believes the system could have a flaw is just completely out of their minds.

That said, I actually want to talk about the Deino thing because that touches on a fun mechanical thing within the games.

Deino, as a pseudo-legend, is interesting to the point of being downright unique. Its appearance isn't atypical; fully half of pseudo-legends are post-game exclusive. Larvitar is supremely late game, and Beldum only shows up in time for the superboss fight with Steven in Emerald, otherwise it has nothing to do. Bagon shows up only after you've cleared the gyms, it's later than your Legendary. Dratini and Gible are the odd ones out. Dratini can be found halfway through your gym challenge in the Safari Zone if you know where to look and are willing to deal with Safari Zone catch rates. It's earlier access, but harder to complete. Gible can be found after only two gyms, but in a missable location that is visually impossible to identify, but comes with Gabite in Victory Road as compensation if you missed it.

Deino continues the general trend of being just a late availability Pokemon, but loses Gible's early access opportunity. This in itself isn't too atypical. No, what makes Deino fascinating is that it sucks.

Take a look at the performance of the prior pseudo-legends. The the early RBY days, if you found Dratini, you had access to a Pokemon that gets its first evolution kinda early, and can learn Fire, Water, Ice, and Electric coverage, giving it tools that let it handle the majority of the League just fine. In GSC, Larvitar shows up super late, but if you get one and put in the work to evolve (and better, learn Crunch and Earthquake as Larvitar first), Tyranitar blanks fully half of Red's team. In RSE, Bagon shows up late, but if you stall evolution a bit for Crunch and teach it Brick Break, a level 50 final stage is perfectly achievable, and has options to beat the entire E4. With Earthquake you beat Steven, although Wallace is a lot more of a problem. Metagross only shows up post-game, but in Emerald its Steel typing does make it a good response to much of Steven's own team, because he can't really hurt it. In DPPt, Gible's early access room comes with the Earthquake TM, allowing you to set up a monster right away that never really slows down, and with Flamethrower and access to Crunch, answers 3 members of the League independently.

Then there's Hydreigon. As Deino, it offers only Crunch. Dragon Rush is too inaccurate with Hustle to hit anything, and Body Slam offers nothing for coverage. Reusable TMs mean all the cool options aren't available, not that Zweilous can learn any of it. And Zweilous evolves at 50, a level where it wouldn't be unexpected that your team can already beat the League before it evolves once. If you do put in that work, Zweilous...actually goes through the best part of its life, because it can take down Caitlin and Shauntal, provided attacks actually connect. Then you have the long haul of postgame level scaling, trying to get it to beat things way bigger than it through low speed, poor bulk, and Hustle, to arrive at Hydreigon. Who doesn't even learn Dark Pulse naturally, and whose coverage options do not substantially change its matchups. And also because Caitlin and Shauntal are bulky it can't OHKO anything and their coverage is actually good (Golurk will one-shot with Hammer Arm, Musharna has Reflect and Reuniclus can obliterate with Focus Blast). Hydreigon, uniquely, does not contribute much.

I find this interesting as a pivot in game structure. I do think the games are designed with intent for the most part, and Gen 5 feels like a step away from the idea that the big statistical monsters are the most important. I assume this was intentional because Volcarona suffers the same fate, getting a useful Quiver Dance and Heat Wave by 60, but having the same "pre-evo is functionally useless all its life, and doesn't get the other good moves it wants until way later if at all." Bug Buzz at 70 is like GSC Heracross: yeah it's a great move, too bad I'll never reach that level to get it. And despite having Psychic, Marshal has so much Rock coverage it won't get anywhere. Caitlin and Shauntal were handled better by Beheeyem's bulky Calm Mind set, and Marshal was handled best by a +Def nature Rocky Helmet Durant. Which is weird compared to the usual pseudo-legend approach. It makes them feel like a lot more work for a lot less reward.

[lucifer-larrson]

3rd Of December {Vance X Male Reader}

5/5

December 5th Saturday 9:00AM

M/n who was happy to sleep in, sadly can't as the sound of his door slamming open, brothers screaming, and someone else picking him up. Didn't feel like any of this brothers but it was a familiar feeling. A nice one.

Still half asleep from just being awoken, m/n didn't feel like opening his eyes. But he could hear clearly.

"Get him!" That was William.

"HE'S THE ONE CORRUPTING OUR BABY BROTHER!!" Alan. He wasn't pissed off, but not to happy.

"Yeah!" MJ, he sounded confused on everything. And he was, he just wanted to help.

"ALAN NO! RUN VANCE I CAN'T HOLD THEM OFF!!" that was danny. 'Hold off alan and William? Wait vance-?' M/n thought opening his eyes. Slowly but surely he open his eyes.

He was in fact being carried by vance, who os running from Alan, William, and MJ. Danny was desperately running after them as well.

Vance slammed out the door and started to run down the street. What a sight to see.

M/n barely dressed thrown over Vance's shoulder running down the sidewalk of their town. Three grown men running after them with a 10 year old.(i don't think i ever made a age for MJ) MJ in his duck pjs. Alan with a pink 'kiss the cook' apron. William running after them to. Danny behind them shouting for them to stop.

Meanwhile they are shouting for vance to 'get back here with their sweet baby brother' big brother for MJ.

Yup what a sight to see.

"Vance what-"

"I'm kidnapping you." Vance said.

"Oh..how nice. . . .did you break into my house?" M/n asked. Trying to see why all his brothers are this wilded up.

"Kinda." M/n merely nodded to himself waving sheepishly at his brothers.

"Vance..I'm not really dressed where are we going."

"My house." He said taking a sharp right turn. "Ill give you my clothes." Vance said slowing slightly to switch m/n into holding him bridle style.

Picking up full speed again while m/n wrapped his hands around Vance's neck. "They'll break in." M/n said with a small smile.

"Do they know where i live?"

"No."

"Then we just have to lose them first." M/n was confused, until vance ran past his house, that way was the woods. He's going to go in to the bridge, then run to the left where the old park is.

Then he's going to run out and loop to his house. Or better yet he would want to get there faster. So he parked his motorcycle at the park.

They are on foot and behind us so he'll get there before them. "Sly fox." M/n smirked. Seeing his brothers behind him he gave vance a small kiss on the check. Alan is the oldest.

He's the leader, they'll follow him without realizing it. But his down fall is that he won't think is he's angry enough. And he's almost there all he needed was a little push to make his mind not think much.

M/n to focused on beating his brothers didn't see vance redden face, or him now running faster.

As they round the old bridge m/n was right. Not in view of his brothers vance made a sharp turn to the park. Trying to hide behind the trees the best he could.

Getting the park they not on Vance's motorcycle and made the way back to his house. A simple mission. Completed.

Arriving to Vance house he parked his motorcycle out of veiw. Picking m/n back up he ran to his room. Closing the door, vance jumped on the bed with m/n.

"Your awfully. . .affectionate." m/n said. "What do you want?"

"What's with your mood yesterday was my joke that bad?"

"Joke? What joke?"

"About her being single, cuz ya know she's a whore?" M/n jumping up turned to vance.

"So you dont like her!?" He asked with a smile.

"Hell no."

"I have a chance!" M/n said before covering his mouth and falling off the bed.

"Ew you like her?" Vance asked looking over the side of the bed.

Feeling his face heat up m/n wouldnt even lie about liking her to safe his secret. "No not her but someone else i do like." He said dragging the words a little after 'but'

"Ugh a guessing game. Do i know them?"

"Yup." M/n said getting up and hoping over vance to lay on the bed beside him.

"Do i know them well?"

"More then anyone."

"Then anyone?" He said thinking about it before giving a smirk leaning over m/n. "Is it me~"

"Maybe." M/n said opening one of his eyes.

"Maybe? Well maybe a i like someone to."

"My turn now? Do i get a hint."

"Their a annoying dumbass."

"Mr. Harper?"

"No there last name is l/n." With a dramatic gasp m/n turned to look at vance trying to hide his smile as he painfully looked hurt.

"You like alan!"

"Why you." Vance said as he tackled m/n. "You dick i should strangle you." He playfully threatened as m/n laughed.

"Ok ok. Is this person m/n l/n?"

"Yeah he's pretty badass, soon of seen that one dude he beat up. Or the other one. Or those two that tried to jump him. Or-"

"I get it i beat up a good many but so have you jerk!" M/n said tackling him back.

Ending up on the floor in a laughing mess. M/n smiled as he gave in and gave vance a soft kiss on the lips that was happily given back.

"Badasses to the end?" m/n asked.

"Hell yeah." Vance said giving him another kiss.

I still remember the third of December me in your sweater You said it looked better on me than it did you

[vinnie2757]

12 for cidshera and 5 for vincrecia!

12: Things you said when you thought I was asleep I'm here im here ive done it finally

‘Hey, you awake?’

Shera had been about to drift, in that in-between where there are no steady thoughts occupying her brain, but awareness lingers around the edges, keeps her tethered. She’s aware of the burble in the pipes, the sound of water, the soft wheeze of breath. He’s overdone it this week, desperate to prove himself, desperate to help. Too many people need help, and she can’t help but ache at their involvement. A city has been destroyed, people’s lives, literal and figurative, consumed by a single moment. Barret had talked of the plate dropping, of the devastation then, but to see the state of Midgar now, it’s a whole new ball game. There is empty space where there should be laughter, silence where there should be homes. He had not wanted her to come, had wanted her to stay in Rocket Town and manage things there, but she was never going to stay, not when there were jobs to do.

She didn’t spend years of her life losing her fingerprints to electric shocks to not help get lights back on. And she certainly didn’t spend years of her life listening to his gripes to not pull her weight when it was needed most. He’s been intolerable about it, for the most part, cursing and moaning about the way Reeve’s men go about the rebuild, about how they get in his way, about how they don’t just let her get in the gaps in the wall and yank the cables, about the way everything is so metallic. Understandable; every window of every building in Rocket Town opens to a green view, but Midgar, and now this new city springing up in its ashes, they’re stone and steel and grim. Midgar had always been grim, but this is something else.

So, no, she’s awake still. She could open her eyes, could ask him what he wants, but something steadies her, a hand on her arm, gentle pressure on her nape. Stay. Wait.

‘Huh,’ he breathes, the wheeze of an oncoming cough. Too much dust in the air, too many metal filings. ‘You know. I never did say thank you.’

For what, she wants to ask, but stays there, still, breathing in, and out. Trying to keep it steady, regular. He’s observant, too observant, but he doesn’t see a single thing half the time.

Warmth hovers about her arm for a moment; had he gone to reach for her? He’s getting better about touching her now, about being able to brush her hair back, stroke her arm, hold her hand, pull her in for a kiss that makes her toes curl.

‘I ain’t in for all that planet shit, ‘cept that she needed us. She was a sick child, and we had to cut the sickness out, and we did that. We did what we did, and I think she’s grateful for that. You’re here, that has to mean something.’

The back of his fingers settle on her arm then, just a moment, brush against a mostly-healed scrape, the blue of the bruise faint and mostly yellow.

‘I don’t believe in fate or none of that shite. There ain’t nothing controlling us ‘cept us. But. Sometimes, I look at you and think you were put in my way on purpose.’

She almost laughs, but manages to force it into a sigh, curls her spine so she sinks deeper into the cushions, hopes it looks like she’s settling into a deeper sleep. The air lingers, the silence hanging.

‘I should have told you I loved you sooner,’ he admits, quiet. ‘When I saw you that first time. I should have said. You deserved that. To know. Instead, I made you wait, and I treated you poorly for it. I was – I was – I was scared, I guess. You obviously knew who I was, and I – I know what I was then. I wasn’t that poster, I hadn’t ever been that poster. I guess – I disappointed Dad until the day he died, and I guess I didn’t want to disappoint you, too.’

Her tongue is heavy in her mouth, carrying the weight of words she wants to tell him, to blurt out at a volume indecent for the silence of the room. He’d dragged the couch their hotel room had provided, inexplicably, given that there was no table except the dresser, over to the balcony doors, so that they could look out over the stars without being in the rain that had threatened to break throughout the evening. It’s where they’d sat most of the evening after eating. She’d read a manual, he’d posted nonsense in the group chat on his PHS and then thrown it aside and ignored its repeated beeping, because Yuffie had broken her foot and the potion had made her violently sick, so she had nothing better to do. She’d been curled into one end, her feet in the middle, and he’d sat there staring at the sky, his hand warm on her ankle. Somewhere in the middle, he’d gotten up to smoke, and she’d begun to drift.

And it’s here he professes these things to her, this murmured desire to do right by her, by the planet, by the man he could never be.

‘Ah, whatever, it’s what it is. You’re still here, even though I’ve been a complete jackass, and I’m grateful for that. Looking at those poor fuckers out there, I guess I should be more grateful. We’ve got more than most people.’ He clucks his tongue. ‘I love you, you know. Even though I’m not the man I should have been then, I love you.’

He falls silent then, never has been good at the emotional stuff. For a minute, two, he just breathes, and she can feel the weight of his gaze. She fights the urge to yawn.

‘Fuck, guess I should put you to bed. You’ll only whinge about a sore neck in the morning, and I ain’t taking the blame.’

This is a lie; Shera does not, as a rule, complain, and he knows it.

A hand touches her knee, her shoulder, and then she’s weightless, cradled close in the tea-and-smoke smell of his t-shirt. There is no way to pretend to be asleep now, his grip too tight and too loose, and the movement too jerky, his own neck sore from lifting the sheet metal.

‘Love you,’ she murmurs, soft, to his pulse, hand against his collar, the brush of cotton and warmth of skin.

‘Go the fuck to sleep,’ he murmurs back, pressing a kiss to her crown.

[dream--writing]

Ok guys, let’s talk about a Bayonetta 2 au for Persona 5!

A few months after the events of the first game, everyone is living semi-peaceful lives in Tokyo

There are always angels to hunt, but Joker is happy to do so with his friends, including Goro by his side

But on Christmas Eve, something goes wrong. Joker loses control of one of his summons, and the rogue demon attempts to attack him

Goro pushes him out of the way at the last second, and is killed instead, his soul dragged to Inferno

To save him, the Phantom Thieves must travel to the sacred mountain Fimbulventr to find the Gates of Hell

While traveling through the town of Noatun, they meet a young girl being targeted by the angels

After some scuffle, she introduces herself as Sophia and proposes a deal: she’ll lead the Phantom Thieves to Fimbulventr if they get her there.

All of that to say Sophia is Loki in this au

Like her counterpart, she has no memory of who she is, why she needs to get to the mountain, nor why the forces of Paradiso are so intent on capturing her and why they refer to her as “Sovereign One”

Unlike Loki, she’s much more polite, if a little aloof. It’s still Sophia

For example instead of “Stay out of my way, or I’ll make sure you never get in it again.” She would say: “Please stay out of my way. I cannot guarantee your safety if you don’t.”

So the group continue on their way, but more obstacles lay ahead

In addition to the usual customers, Infernals attack despite their contracts

They are also stalked by a Masked Lumen, who doesn’t say much but seems intent on killing Sophia

Finally they reach the Gates, but are stopped by the Lumen and a mysterious being known as the Prophet.

To the shock of Joker, the Prophet shows him a vision: his mother, Akiko, and his father, Kuragari

Joker believed Akiko killed his father, but in front of his very eyes Kuragari is attacked by an assailant in the shadows who looks a lot like Sophia, and dies in Akiko’s arms

The Masked Lumen is a younger, grieving Akiko, bent on taking revenge by killing Sophia

At the last moment, Sophia opens the Gates of Hell, pulling them all except the Prophet inside

The Phantom Thieves find and save Goro from his demon captor, who I’m not gonna reveal yet

Then they have to save Sophia from Akiko

But in a twist of events, Sophia loses control of her power, sending the Thieves and Akiko back 500 years, to the war between the Lumen and Umbra

The Thieves meet Kuragari and battle alongside him

I feel the rest is spoiler territory, particularly for P5S, so I’m gonna stick it under Read More

During their travels, the Phantom Thieves meet back up with Sumire, who’s done some investigating. In her research she’s found the Legend of Ichinose. Ichinose was the Goddess of Chaos who ruled over the human realm with the Eyes of the World. Feeling sorry for mankind, she gave them the Eyes, so that they may think for themselves. This in turn split her in two: Good and Evil. Sophia is the good half, and retained a Sovereign Power. The evil half is the Prophet, also known as Emma. Wanting the power of the Eyes back, she tried to steal the Sovereign Power, but Sophia escapes to the future. Undeterred, Emma turns the Lumen and Umbra against each other, and kills Kuragari. 500 years later, she brings Akiko to the present and manipulates her by promising revenge.

Now that the Thieves know the truth, they convince Akiko to side with them, at least for a while in order to bring down Emma. They arrive at Fimbulventr where Emma has captured Sophia and is waiting for them. She takes the Sovereign Power and takes the Eyes, becoming Ichinose once more. However, Akiko and Joker stand up against her, and they do a pretty good job of fighting her. Sophia also reveals a secret power: nothingness. She erases the Eyes of the World, stripping Emma of most of her power. She’s defeated easily, but in a last ditch effort she opens a portal with the intent to escape and be reborn. 

Akiko then sacrifices herself to contain Emma’s spirit in her own body, despite Sophia’s warnings that this will corrupt her. But Akiko accepts her fate, and asks Akira, her son, one thing: if she cannot control Emma and loses herself, to bring her down. Akira agrees, knowing that he already did so. Mother and son bid a tearful farewell.

Sophia also departs, but promises that they may meet again one day, if they’re lucky. And so, the Phantom Thieves return home, knowing that the world will be okay, and ready for the next baddie that stirs up trouble.

[midnightraine131]

Hi! For Aruani ask game :3

2, 5, 6, 11, 13, 14, 16

Thank you for the ask!!

Sorry for not getting this done sooner. My work schedule is really taking a toll on me but here it goes...

2. Share your favorite part of your first ever fic.

Whew! I just started writing fics again after 5 years, and Hiding in Plain Sight is my first ever Aruani fic. Such a shame for someone who has been shipping them since 2013.

With the house quiet once again, Annie dragged her feet around, turning off the lights in the living room and closing the windows in the kitchen. She remembered she had left her slippers in her bedroom that morning, so she took off her shoes. Her bare feet touched the cold tiled floor, while her heart carried a heavy load of guilt. It was a guilt that would haunt her until her last breath. If only she could escape from her past mistakes, she would have done so by now. How should she tell him? Would he avoid her? Would he curse at her? Would he leave her behind? As she ran these thoughts through her head, fear tightened its grip on her. She wasn't built for confession, and she wasn't strong enough to lose something she wasn't ready to lose. Or was "lose" even the right word? She didn't know. He wasn't even hers to begin with.

5. Write about Armin and Annie's first meeting! Could be in canon settings or other au.

I'm a sucker for AUs so I will give an Actor AU a shot.

Armin felt more and more anxious as he repeatedly went over the script. Today was the first day they would shoot the scene at Stohess district, and the director had told them on the first day that the confrontation was one of the most iconic scenes in the manga, so most Attack on Titan fans were looking forward to the episode. (Armin knew this because he had googled fan sites.) Although he had worked with almost half of the cast, he had never worked with Annie Leonhart. He had heard from his co-actor Eren that Annie was quite intimidating to work with. Fifteen minutes had passed after the call time, but Annie's team had not yet turned up on set. The production assistant asked the trio to return to their tents to retouch their makeup. Armin glanced at the empty chair beside him. He sighed and was about to go through his script one last time when Annie and her makeup artist tripped over something behind Armin's chair. Shocked, Armin hurriedly stood up to help them. As he bent down to hold Annie's arm to pull her up, Armin's mind failed to register what had just happened. He was sure it was adrenaline that was to blame. When he looked up, their noses were almost touching. He had never felt his face heat up so quickly. As soon as he was sure that she could stand up on her own, he let go of her arm. He could distinguish a tinge of pink on her cheek when she turned her back away from him. When the day was over and the crew started to wrap up, Annie purposefully walked past Armin's family van and handed him a bag of donuts and a large cup of boba tea. She muttered, "This is my apology for being late on set today." Armin thanked her and smiled. Annie fidgeted before she added, "Everyone got one, so don't think about it too much." She then dashed away from him. When he looked around, everyone had donuts, but not boba milk tea. She had given him an extra treat. Since then, he always approached her whenever they got to work together. He was glad that she had come back to set for season 4.

6. Tell us about your longest fic

Actually, I initially planned to do some practice writing because I felt like I was getting rusty after years of not writing anything at all. But for some reason, I fell in love with imagining Armin as a prosecutor, and so my practice writing has turned into a 9-chapter story that is still ongoing.

11. What annoys you the most about your own writing habits?

My mood honestly depends on the weather. Like, I can only write properly when it's raining or when I have to go to work very early in the morning. Another habit I want to get rid of is my drinking problem. If I don't drink, I can't come up with anything. I know it's bad for my health. I've been trying to keep my body healthy these past few weeks, and I'm hanging in there. I'm also having a hard time writing when I'm outside and all the ideas are pouring in on me.

13. Do you use symbolism when writing fics? Tell us about it.

I've been experimenting with my writing style lately. I just started to use symbolism in the title, and it's a bit of a giveaway. I'm not a deep person, but my characters are. LOL.

14. Tell us about a detail you wrote that nobody has commented on yet.

Now that I've gone through all the chapters again, I was quite surprised that nobody has commented on how bad my first chapter is. I was honestly considering rewriting or deleting the whole chapter.

16. Share a wip you're excited about.

This is a chapter from Hiding in Plain Sight that I wrote a month ago. It contains a glimpse of what they've become after four years, months after their relationship ended.

He held her hand, glancing at the diamond on her finger. "So you are engaged now." He examined every angle of the stone, gleaming rainbow lights reflecting in his eyes. "With Hoover?" "Armin." He swallowed, his voice breaking, "What does he have that I don't?" Annie noticed his eyes were dark and puffy from up close, as if the storm in his eyes had calmed down and left a wasteland. "Armin, you're too drunk." He gently placed her hand on his face as he closed his eyes. His hands, his face, he's as cold as if she had touched a glass frozen in winter. "I dreamed of you being beside me." "I was, Armin. We were happy. But you ended us." Annie felt warm liquid threatening to leak from the corners of her eyes. "Annie, it took me four damn years to make up my mind. It only took four damn minutes to shatter it all to pieces. And it only took you four damn months to wear someone's ring." This was the first time she had heard him curse, and it broke her. "Armin, please. I told you I wasn't ready when you..." Annie couldn't finish what she wanted to say as tears rolled down her face. "...when I was on my knees and asked you?" He continued, opening his eyes to see her face dampened with tears

[primofate]

Genshin x fem!reader [Volleyball Team AU - Inspired by Haikyuu!] You cheer something embarrassing + The rival team comments about it

Note: My fixation on this AU continues... I just think there’s so many scenarios to explore. 

Scenario: Your friend has dared you to cheer something embarrassing for your boyfriend. Everyone hears it, including the rivalling team...

Warnings: not proofread, some swearing and profanity, slight sexual innuendo if you squint (Tartaglia’s)

Other works in the Volleyball Team AU Series: Click Here

#1 Zhongli (Captain/Wing Spiker/Ace)

Zhongli is pretty well-known among Aces.

He knows you’re up there on the stands and for him that’s good enough. Is not the type to keep looking up there to check if you’re watching. He’d rather be focused on the game.

So when you shout out his name just as they’re about to start, his head snaps towards you and you can see surprise on his face.

“Zhongli!!!” literally all eyes are on you now, the coaches, the managers, the other team. “Y-You’re--”

Your friend nudges and whispers at you “Louder you moron! He won’t hear you if you stutter!”

“YOU’RE THE CAPTAIN OF MY HEART!” 

You cringe and just bury your face in your hands, your friend is laughing uncontrollably

There’s silence in the court, BUT THEN HIS TEAM GOES WILD “CAPTAIN ARE YOU BLUSHING?!” “QUICK SOMEONE TAKE A PHOTO” “HE’S MALFUNCTIONED!” 

Zhongli has a blush on his cheeks but gets his team in order “ROUND UP!” but they’re all silently snickering or giggling.

They form a circle and put their hands in together. Zhongli shouts “FIGHT!” a lot louder than usual.

His team grins. Their captain is fired up, so they’re fired up too. 

Just before he’s about to take first serve he makes it a point to look your way, and give you a firm nod.

Then the captain of the opposite team comments about your cheering. “Wah! I wish I had someone cheering me on like that,” is looking at you with heart eyes.

Zhongli exudes a dark aura and everyone covers their head in fear of getting hit by the ball “Eyes over here,” he grumbles towards the other captain who just smirks.

#2 Diluc (Vice Captain/Wing Spiker/Defense Specialist)

“Diluc! THE ONLY THING STRONGER THAN YOUR SPIKE IS MY LOVE FOR YOU!”

Oh yea gurl. Even your friend is embarrassed and ducks behind the railings to hide her face.

“That’s kinda...cheesy...” Kaeya mutters under his breath and scratches his cheek.

Childe is glittering all over, “It’s so cheesy but I’m kinda jealous,” They both turn to Diluc.

Yea he’s gone. From neck to hairline he’s red all over and steam is coming off from his ears.

His teammates crack up.

He’s so out of it the rest of the team needs to clap and hit his back to get him back into the real world.

“Oi, get yourself together, your girlfriend’s watching!” He snaps out of it at that and puts on his game face.

The other team comments, “She’ll find out my spike is stronger!” 

Diluc is livid that they’re trying to outshine your cheers and spikes like never before.

#3 Kaeya (Middle Blocker)

“KAEYA! YOU CAN BLOCK SPIKES BUT YOU CAN NEVER BLOCK MY HEART!”

has a shit-eating grin the moment he hears it. 

Cups his hands around his mouth and shouts back. “YOU CAN’T BLOCK MINE EITHER!!! I LOVE YOU!!!”

The whole team is just...what in the world is this cringey-ness unfolding in front of them...?

Team doesn’t know whether to be motivated or to puke.

But Kaeya is there to the rescue. He’s so hyped that there are flowers hovering around his peaceful face. “Come on, come on, we gotta show Y/N who the kings of the courts are here, don’t let me down,”

Half-way through the game one of the opponents ask him, “Hey, that your girl up there? She’s kinda cute,”

KAEYA ISN’T EVEN FAZED Y’ALL “She is, isn’t she?!” Probs will show you off more, to his team’s displeasure. 

After the game (which they obiviously won) he bear hugs you and is proud of how much you cheered for him.

#4 Albedo (Setter)

“Bedo!!! YOU SET MY HEART ON FIRE!”

You say this just as the ball touches his fingertips, he slips up a bit at the embarrassing cheer and they end up losing that point.

“Oh crap,” you mutter under your breath and duck under the rails to hide while your friend laughs, pointing at your hidden form when Albedo looks up to the stands.

“Don’t mind, don’t mind!” his teammates slap his back to reassure him that they can get the lost point back.

Tartaglia is the one that zooms in on Albedo’s face, “How are you not making any reactions at all?”

Albedo stares at him for a moment. “...Because she merely stated the truth,” 

Kazuha laughs at how logical their setter is but adds, “He slipped up, I think that’s enough of a reaction,”

Albedo pouts a little but continues with the game. 

A little later on the setter of the other team tries to provoke him. “Hey, you didn’t even give your girlfriend any reaction. Watch out, I’m pretty sure I can give better ones,” 

Albedo is so pissed he actually spikes the next ball with his eyes on that bastard.

#5 Tartaglia (Middle Blocker/Wing Spiker)

“TARTAGLIA!!! YOUR SPIKES MAKE ME WEAK IN THE KNEES!” 

Another one who has a shit-eating grin on his face.

Shouts back at you “THAT’S NOT THE ONLY THING OF MINE THAT MAKES YOU WEA--” is FREAKIN slapped by Zhongli at the back of his head.

You kind of thank his captain that he wasn’t able to finish that sentence but damn it’s still embarrassing.

Kaeya and Tohma is snorting with laughter

Xiao and Albedo does not get it.

Someone from the other team begrudgingly comments, “Dude you don’t have to flex her that hard,” 

Tartaglia is the type to take the bait, a dark look on his face while looking at the opponent. “That’s right, be jealous, no one’s cheering for you huh?”

Whacked by Zhongli the second time and pushes his head down and apologizes for this man-Childe

#6 Kazuha (Decoy/Middle Blocker/Wing Spiker)

“KAZUUU!!! YOU JUMP JUST LIKE MY HEART DOES WHEN I HUG YOU!”

Laughs aloud sheepishly but waves his hand at the stands where you are. 

Is secretly stoked and fueled.

But his other teammates are still teasing him about it. “Wow she must be having some kind of heart attack whenever she hugs you then,” “Come on Kazuha! Show us how far you can jump!”

Laughs sheepishly again and waves his hands at his teammates, “Okay, alright, that’s enough,”

But man is FLYING during the game, literally. The team is kinda scared about how high he’s jumping today and wonders if you’ve cast some type of magic spell.

They’re all thinking ‘...if I get a girlfriend will I perform better too?’ with these glum looks on their faces.

The opposing team’s member remarks, just speaking out loud. “She’s right he really does jump high for someone so small...”

Kazuha smirks at them, although there’s still a friendly smile on his face. “Y/N knows me best,”

#7 Xiao (Libero)

“XIAO! RECEIVE THAT BALL THE WAY YOU RECEIVE ME IN YOUR ARMS!”

low-key the other teammates start to add-on to the teasing. “Wow, how DO you receive her in your arms, Xiao?” “You like cuddles or what?” “So do YOU initiate the cuddles or does she?”

“ENOUGH!” he’s a blushing mess and pushes away his team members to try and focus on the game. 

He shoots you a half-glare while you’re over at the stands but later on he’s prolly gunna give you cuddles the way he likes it.

Every time they’re on time out or break the terrible two (Kaeya and Tartaglia) tease him by wrapping their arms around Xiao and repeating what you said “Receive that ball the way you receive me in your arms!!” “Hug me Xiaoooooo!”

Xiao just punches the both of them on the head.

Albedo deadpans the terrible two and says “That’s a very good way of showing that you’re jealous no one is cheering for you,”

They both sulk on the side of the court.

The other team’s spiker comments, enough for Xiao to hear. “Gee she’s kinda cute,”

Xiao doesn’t even hold back, with fire in his eyes, points at that guy. “You! You won’t get any ball past me!” 

#8 Tohma (Pinch Server/Middle Blocker)

“TOHMA! YOU CAN SERVE THAT BALL BUT I CAN SERVE YOU SOME LOVE!!!”

Tohma laughs heartily and turns to his teammates, “Hear that guys? Guess it’s time for me to go and get served some love,” 

He’s literally just in seventh heaven and is about to nope it out of there to meet you at the stands but Diluc grabs the collar of his shirt and drags him back. “The game isn’t over...”

Deadass pouts the rest of the game, but is so motivated to finish that most of his serves are unstoppable.

And then in the middle of the game, someone from the other team waves back at you. “I CAN SERVE YOU SOME LOVE TOO!”

Tohma serves that ball straight at the guys head, his eye is twitching in annoyance.

Is possibly the happiest that you came to his game and swings you around when he meets you. “Thanks for cheering babe!”

Taglist: @softlybeloved @bobaducky @normalisthenewnorm @how-simpy @atasi-luna @berryqueue @hallohun @milkypompon

Hello Hello! Technically this could be counted as fluff, but I understand that not everyone is fond of AUs, so, if you don’t mind being tagged to something like this, please fill in the survey again (I’ve added AU as an option, just click that one if you’ve signed up for the others before!)

https://forms.gle/VZmJXQssHcv7YzQc6

Please do consider supporting me at my ko-fi! I’ve fixed the payment link so I think you can love me more now <3 (haha jk, it’s optional, but it would greatly help and make me happy!)

https://ko-fi.com/primofate

Masterlist

https://primofate.tumblr.com/post/653296890583154688/masterlist-for-mobile-version-main-links

[theleftovertaco]

Petty Rivalry- Fred Weasley x Reader

I got an ask maybe 4 months ago asking me to write a fic where reader and fred are rivals and then they fuck but life's a bitch so I'm just getting to it now. Here u go lol. Made some changes so now the reader is a gryffindor chaser tho.

Warnings: smut, sub!fred, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kiddos)

"Weasley, you cunt!"

"Hey!"

"Not you, George. Sorry!" You shouted above the whooshing noises of the brooms around you. Fred zoomed past you.

"Not my fault you were in the way of a bludger!"

"It literally is your fault! Your job as a beater is to keep us safe, dipshit!"

"Oi! You two. Get your shit together before we lose!" Angelina shouted as she flew past.

You set one more glare Fred's way before flying off. Between bickering, dodging, and passing, Ravenclaw was catching up and close to winning as both seekers raced around the pitch in search for the Golden snitch.

As Potter seemed to spot the small golden ball, he flew past the two of you, and within a few minutes, the game was over.

Angelina pulled you aside after your team had celebrated, shoving a finger in your face.

“You and Fred need to get it together. If you kept arguing you could have distracted the other players and cost us our win.”

You rolled your eyes and batted her hand away.

"He's the one whos always being difficult, not me!"

Angelina scoffed, "You're both arseholes to each other. Get over yourselves. Either learn to cooperate or I'll be looking for a replacement chaser and beater." She turned away and walked off, you trailing frantically behind her.

"Ange!"

"Look," she turned back, "I love you both, but quidditch is important to me, and it could help me get an internship with the Montrose Magpies, I need to secure a win, or at least a well run team."

You paused for a second, then nodded.

"Yeah, alright, I'll talk to him later today after our celebration in the common room."

Angelina seemed to relax at that, clapping you on the shoulder than walking off to join the rest of the team.

You sighed, and made your way to Gryffindor common room.

..........................

Gryffindor's common room raged about with laughter, as food and shots of firewhiskey were shared (no one asked where that came from).

You took a deep breath, and walked quickly over to where Fred was standing.

"Hey."

He glanced over at you in distrust. "Hello?"

"How are you?"

"Fine, why?"

"No reason."

"Great."

"What's great?"

"You can leave me alone now is what's great."

You rolled your eyes.

"Look, Weasley, I was trying to be nice. Work things out so we could both stay on the team together."

"We wouldn't have anything to work out if you would get your head out of your arse for five minutes during our matches."

"Me? You're the one who keeps aiming bludgers at my head, you know you're supposed to aim them away, right? Or at least towards the other team, not someone on your own."

"They wouldn't nearly hit you if you weren't in the way!"

You barked out a laugh, "That's bullshit, I am perfectly fine with my job, or I would be if you weren't out to get me all the damn time!"

By this point, you were both attracting some attention, and Angelina dragged you away while Katie did the same with Fred.

"Both of you, knock it off."

You whipped your head around to look at her, "But I tried to make amends like you said, I even-"

"Leave it alone, plus, there's an issue in the main hallway we need you to come look at."

"Why do you need me?"

Angelina just dragged you further along.

"Ange, what kind of damn issue is so important that, aaGH-" You exclaimed as you were shoved into a closet, and a very tall figure.

"Who the fuck- ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME ANGE!" You saw Fred's equally pissed off face in the dim light hanging from the top of the closet.

"You two work your shit out, we aren't letting you out until you do."

Fred yelled out in frustration, banging on the door.

"KATIE, ANGIE, LET US OUT RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"

There was only light giggling in response, and you knew there was no way you were leaving that broom closet any time soon.

You spent the next ten minutes pacing the room, trying to find a way out of the closet.

"Can you stop pacing for five seconds? It's driving me insane."

"I wouldn't have to if you hadn't gotten us locked up in here in the first place!"

"How did I get us here? Last I checked we both hated each other, so they wanted us both in here!"

"I was trying to be nice to you back there! To make amends!"

Fred threw his hands in the air.

"Well look where that got the both of us."

You stood face to face with him, eyes locking.

"Why do you hate me so much?" You asked him.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

You scoffed, "You can't just answer a question with the exact same question."

"Like hell I can. And you never answered!"

"Because I asked you first! I mean I just don't understand why it's so hard for you to just not be a dick." You turned your back and resumed your pacing.

"Y/N, it's not that, it's just-"

"Just what, because I am sick and tired of you acting as if I am the worst thing to ever happen to you, why do you hate me so goddamn much, I mean-"

"I DON'T HATE YOU DAMMIT! I LOVE YOU!"

You paused for a second, and turned back.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I've been attracted to you since second year!"

You took a second to process this information.

"So why are you such an arsehole then? For the past 5 years you have been!”

You rolled you eyes.

“Nope. Absolutely not. Liking me was not an excuse to be a dick. And don’t try some ‘I didn’t know how to express my feelings’ bullshit!”

Fred looked at you shocked.

“But… I told you that I liked you. And now I’m getting the feeling you might like me.”

“Thats… besides the point, and even if I did, that still doesn’t excuse you from being a dick, I only responded to you in the same way you always treated me!”

“Right, and I’m sorry for that, Y/N. Please allow me to make it up to you.”

Fred held you face in his hands, and you fought an instinct to jerk away.

“How the hell do you plan on making up for five years of assholery?”

Suddenly you were shoved back into the wall. Fred dropped to his knees, unbuckling your jeans.

“Please, let me make it up to you.”

He dragged your jeans down.

“Fred, what are you doing!?”

“Say the word, and I’ll stop. Please, let me make it up to you.”

Fred looked up at you with wide eyes, and you paused for a moment before nodding. He resumed, pulling you underwear past your legs, and lifted up one of your legs before diving into you.

“Fred, I- fuck!”

He dragged his tongue along your folds and nosed at your clit.

“Want you. Want your cunt, your lips, your body, please.”

You carded your fingers through his hair, dragging him closer to you.

“Fuck, want you too.”

Fred continued until you pulled him back up by his hair to meet you. You hastily unbuckled his belt and undid his trousers to take out his cock. Spitting in your hand, you ran your hand up and down his dick, causing him to let out a series of curses and moans.

He lifted you up by your thighs, and you placed his cock at your entrance, and Fred let out a whine as he pushed in.

“Fuck, love, you feel good.” He readjusted you in his arms and began fucking up into you, his thrusts making him hit that spot inside you.

“Fuck, Fred!”

The two of you continued for what seemed like forever until Fred hooked an arm under your leg and his hand wrapped around you so he could play with your clit.

“Fred, I’m gonna come.”

“I am too, love.” You felt your orgasm arrive and as you did you clenched down on his cock, causing him to release inside of you.

A few moments passed before he set you down, both of you breathing heavily.

“Your partially forgiven.”

“Partially? I just fucked your brains out, how am I partially forgiven?”

You let out a giggle.

“You take me out on a date, and I’ll consider you forgiven.”

Fred brought you into his arms, and laid a kiss on the top of your head.

“Deal.”

A moment passed, and after you both were dressed and had collected yourselves, you banged on the door to be let out.

“Angie? Kate, we’ve resolved our issues, you can let us out now!”

They opened the door, and as you both left you could hear them snickering.

Angelina shouted out from behind you, “Yeah, we heard you both resolving your issues from the other side of the door.”

Fred threw his head back half in laughter and half in exasperation while you stood there, red faced with your head in your hands.

“Next time, maybe resolve your issues in a bedroom?” Katie practically howled out.

“Shove off, Bell!”

[freddie-weaselbee]

Someone Blue//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: Slight language, angst, a lot of confusion, fluffy ending

Summary: Fred spots a familiar face at his brother’s wedding, and has a sinking suspicion about why she’s acting so upset during this time of celebration. 

Prompts: Enemies to Lovers (kind of) and Weddings with the dialogue prompts “you look like you need a hug” and “did you need something?”

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Day 1 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge 

Angelina looked absolutely ethereal, skin glowing in the shimmering lights as she glided across the grass as if it was a ballroom floor. Her white dress was slightly stained, mostly from when her now husband tackled her to the ground after their first kiss as a married couple, and yet it only made her seem all the more angelic. 

George’s feet seemed to never touch the ground. He was moving at record speeds, prancing and hopping and skipping around the dance floor, dragging his wife along with him. It was the most joyful Fred had ever seen him. 

Not when they left Hogwarts, not when they opened their shop, not even when Angelina said yes to the proposal could have compared to the happiness on George’s face. Nor Angelina’s. They were in a pure state of bliss. 

The rest of the wedding-goers seemed to match their energy. Fred couldn’t go anywhere without being bombarded with drunken laughs and horrid dancing, and the occasional congratulations or two from some tipsy guests who didn’t know that the man they were talking to wasn’t the groom. 

All in all, it was an amazing night. The field behind the burrow had become a traditional wedding venue for the growing Weasley children, so far hosting Bill, Percy, Ron, and now George’s days to remember. The tents and lights were all set up as they were with Bill and Fleur’s wedding, except this time there was no risk of Death Eaters ruining the event. Hopefully. 

However, while making his way around to talk to (and flirt with) the guests, Fred happened to notice one person who did not fit the overzealous tone. Well, he didn’t really happen to notice. Rather he’d been staring at her throughout the entire night, watching her somber mood break through her happy façade. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone. 

You were standing by yourself, but you weren’t secluded from the action. Rather, you were right in the middle of things, on the very edge of the dance floor, staring out at the masses of bodies swinging their partners around. Your arms were crossed over your chest, a defensive position that Fred had seen so many times in you before. 

He turned away and tried to ignore it. It wasn’t any of his business if you were upset. The two of you were barely even friends anymore. You had cut him out of your life so many years ago and never looked back. To this day, Fred still didn’t know why, and it killed him. 

He wanted to walk away. To go the other direction toward a beautiful guest wearing a flowing red dress, hair done up perfectly. The stranger would be the smart choice. A fun way to spend the evening, dancing around and snogging under moonlit trees. But, against his better judgement, Fred’s heart wouldn't let him leave. 

Sighing, Fred lifted his feet and made his way in the other direction, to the girl who couldn’t care less about him. 

You stood unmoving, except for a subtle sway to the music. People brushed by you, but you paid them no mind. You were too focused on something else. As Fred drew nearer, he was able to follow your line of sight to the people in question. The newlyweds. 

Fred bristled before softening slightly. Of course. This must be about George. Back at Hogwarts, Fred was positive you had the biggest crush on his brother. You were always tagging along with their jokes, even when they got you into huge trouble. You definitely spent more time alone with George than Fred, sharing whispers and stares at the expense of the older twin. He could never get George to break and tell him what you two talked about. George even took you to the Yule Ball in your 6th year. You had never looked as radiant as you did that night, except for maybe this moment. Fred wished he had asked you to dance at the ball, but he never worked up the courage to. He didn’t want you to internally grimace at the thought of dancing with the “lesser” Weasley twin when George was right there. 

In his recollection of memories, Fred hadn’t noticed how close he had gotten to you, and how you were no longer gazing at the couple dancing. You were now staring at him. 

“Did you need something?”

Fred was shaken out of his imagination, met with an annoyed glare but soft smile coming from you. His surprise was immediately replaced with his signature cocky grin, leaning his hand onto one of the wedding tables while keeping his gaze on you. Unfortunately, his hand accidentally dipped into a wine glass, but he quickly pulled it out and hoped you didn’t notice. You did. 

“Well, that’s not a very nice way to greet one of your oldest friends, now is it?” Fred wiped his wine-covered hand on his suit pants and slipped it into his pocket, pretending to be unbothered by his previous mistake. 

You turned your eyes away from him, once again gluing them to the dance floor. “I think it’s fitting, seeing as how you were creepily staring at me for about 5 minutes before I said something.”

Fred’s ears grew pink at the accusation. “I, umm, I didn’t realize it was that long. Or that you noticed. Sorry.” He bashfully rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to glance around at other guests who might interest him more. 

“You still haven’t answered me.”

Fred cocked his head to the side in question. 

“Why’d you come over here? Was there something you needed?”

“Ah, yes well,” Fred began smoothly, “I saw this darling beauty from across the tent and I just could not take my eyes off of her--”

“Fred,” you interrupted. You were looking at him again, your gaze piercing through him, forcing him to tell you the truth, to tell you everything about him. His fears, his hopes and dreams, what he had for breakfast this morning. He wanted to tell you it all. 

“The truth, please.”

Clearing his throat, and his mind of whatever thoughts just plagued him, Fred decided to be honest. You deserved that much. 

“You look like you need a hug,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. 

Evidently, those were not the words you were expecting to hear. You were prepared with about a dozen quips to say in response to whatever cocky joke Fred was about to make. But he didn’t, and nothing could have prepared you for what he did say. 

“I--I need a what?”

“Sorry, have you lost your hearing or was I not loud enough? It’s definitely not the second; you’ve told me on numerous occasions that I have the biggest mouth of anyone you know.”

There it was. But it still made you giggle, relaxing and gravitating closer to your companion. 

“I heard you,” you said, “just wasn’t expecting that from you, I guess.”

Fred took a half step closer, visibly glad when you didn’t move away. “Wasn’t expecting me to have noticed your behavior, or wasn’t expecting me to care if I did?”

It took you a few seconds to respond. “Both.”

He let out a sound of understanding before you both averted your eyes, looking straight ahead. Occasionally, Fred would try to look at you using his peripheral vision, and you would do the same. It became a kind of game--just an awkward back and forth between two people who used to be so close, and were now so far apart.

You game ended when one of the wedding guests decided to clink their glass, beginning a chorus of high pitched chimes to echo throughout the room. You watched as George turned to find Angelina, running to her to give her a kiss so full of love and passion that it took everything Fred had not to shout out a joke and ruin the moment. He could do that next time. 

He noticed you stiffen at the kiss, presumably because it was just another reminder of what you couldn’t have. George. 

“You know, I always wanted to be a Weasley.”

Fred was surprised that you had spoken to him, and even more surprised about the turn the conversation had taken. 

“I grew up with you guys,” you continued, not waiting for Fred to respond. “Molly was like my second mother, even though she always liked Hermione and Harry a bit more than me.”

“Join the club,” said Fred, causing you to laugh loudly, a sound he hadn’t heard from you in ages. Godric, how he had missed it.

“It’s just…” you trailed off, not knowing if you wanted to be open with Fred, someone you hadn’t spoken to in years. Chances were, you wouldn’t keep in touch much after the wedding, so you might as well. What was there to lose? “It’s just...seeing Angelina, one of my best friends, dance around, wearing that ring, getting to be an actual Weasley. It’s...it’s making me a wee bit jealous.”

Fred watched you fidget with a bracelet on your wrist and decided to push his luck just a bit more. “And you’re wishing that it could be you wearing the ring, married to a certain Weasley gentleman?”

The shock was evident in your expression. “No, no, it’s not--I mean I never…” Sighing, you decided to come clean. “Yeah, I’ve maybe been harboring feelings for a certain twin for, oh I don’t know, my entire life. No biggie though, it’s totally fine that he never asked me out.”

The ginger beside you threw an arm around your shoulder, handing you a glass of wine in the process. “Drink. It makes everything better.”

You glared at him, but took the glass anyways, chugging it down in a few large gulps. “Another, please,” you demanded, and Fred obliged. 

You started to ease into Fred’s side, as soft and comforting as you remembered it to be, before realizing exactly what it was you were doing. “Fred, can I ask you something?”

“‘Course. You can ask me anything.” The absolute last thing Fred wanted to be doing at the moment was talking about your undying love for his twin brother, at his wedding no less, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Not seeing you for so long had had a harsher effect on him than he thought, and he didn’t want to leave your side. 

Taking a deep breath and gathering your courage, you asked him the question that had been plaguing your mind for years. The one that ate you from the inside out and kept you tossing and turning at night. The reason you had to separate yourself from your love in the first place. “Why am I not good enough?”

Your voice broke a tiny bit, but a lot less than you had been expecting. A tear did happen to slip out, and Fred quickly wiped it away, his fingertip resting on your cheek for a moment too long. 

“Y/N, love, come here.” Fred pulled you into that hug he had talked about earlier, holding you closely to his chest. If he thought you were going to appreciate the gesture, he was wrong. You pushed him away softly, refusing to let any more tears fall. 

“I’m serious, Fred. W-Why am I not good enough? I’ve made it clear for years and yet...nothing. And not even a simple rejection. I could’ve handled that, y’know. If I got a simple no, I could’ve handled it and moved on. But I never did, and it’s killing me. Why am I not good enough?”

It killed Fred to see you this upset, and it hurt him even more to see that the anger was directed at him and not at George. It was his brother that broke your heart after all, not him. “You are good enough!” Fred said, with enough truth and force that a little part of you believed it. “You’re, you’re too good! You’ve been by our side from the beginning and haven’t left it since. Well, we haven’t seen you in years, but that’s probably because of--”

You nodded, confirming what he thought. Your heartbreak had driven you away. 

“But other than that,” he continued, “you’ve been like my third arm. Any guy would be crazy to give you up, you know that?”

 A tiny smile grew on your face, but was gone as soon as it had arrived. “The timing...the timing was just all wrong, wasn’t it?” you asked. 

Fred nodded, watching his brother and his wife greet guests and take pictures that were sure to be on the mantle in the burrow as soon as the wedding was over. “Yeah, I guess so. The prick should’ve asked you out sooner.”

“Oh I agree wholeheartedly, he is a prick,” you said, poking his arm, a gesture that slightly confused him. “So, I’m guessing there’s no chance of anything happening now? No sliver of hope that maybe this could work out?”

He hated that he would be the one to crush your dreams, but he couldn’t let you keep living in false hope. “Well,” he said, “the wedding bands are on and they both said ‘I do.’ Kind of hard to come back from that. I’m sorry.”

You froze, now more befuddled than you had been all night. “I...what?”

Before Fred could say anything you reached to grab his left hand, checking his ring finger for something you knew wasn’t there, but you had to be sure. 

“Wedding bands? What in the world do you--” Realization hit you like a brick, and you wanted to slap yourself. Or Fred. Either one. But preferably the latter. 

“Frederick, my dear love, who do you think we have been talking about this whole time?” you asked, voice genuine but also teasing. 

Fred didn’t know what you all of a sudden found so amusing, but he was already doubting himself and he didn’t want you to make fun of him for whatever he had done wrong. 

“Umm, well you said a Weasley, and then you said a Weasley twin. So I thought the answer was obvious.”

“Say it,” you demanded. “Who have we been talking about? Who am I in love with after years of unrequited feelings?”

He felt like he was walking into a trap, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He hesitated for a few seconds before your searing gaze forced him to answer. “George. We’re talking about my brother George.”

No sooner had his words left his mouth than your hand came up to slap his head. “You idiot! Are you serious right now?”

Fred stood flabbergasted, racking his brain for who else you could have been talking about. George was a Weasley twin. You said you were in love with a Weasley twin. Who else was there?

“It’s you, you big oaf!”

Oh. OH! There were two Weasley twins, and he was one of them. Which meant…

“You’re in love with me?!”

By this point, heads were turned to watch the scene and people were not-so-subtly whispering to their partners. 

You dragged a still surprised Fred through the crowd and out of the tents, finding a secluded enough area where you could talk. 

Fred’s brain had still not been caught up. “It’s me? You’re in love with me? But, but what about George?”

You furrowed your brow, wondering how Fred could have so easily mistaken your feelings for him as those for another. “What about George?”

“You’re in love with him!”

“I most definitely am not!”

“The Yule Ball!” he spat out. “You went to the Yule Ball with him when we were 16!”

“Yes,” you said calmly, “and you went with Angelina, but I don’t see you two getting married. We went as friends and I talked to him about you the entire night. In fact, most of the time when we hung out I was talking about you. Made him swear not to tell though. I was never good about expressing my feelings.”

Fred put a hand to his head, a growing throb threatening to overtake his senses. “But why were you so sad tonight? You wanted to marry George!”

“No,” you said patiently. “I was sad because Angelina and George’s relationship worked out the way I was wishing one between you and I had. They fell in love during school, dated a few years later, and now she’s a part of your family. I wasn’t wishing it was just me out there with your brother. I was wishing that it was our wedding.”

You blushed heavily and buried your face in your hands, embarrassed by your bluntness about your feelings. “Oh, Godric, I shouldn’t have said that, now it’s more awkward. I, umm, I should probably get going.”

Fred grabbed your wrist before you could leave, pulling you into his chest. His eyes were wide, mouth hanging slightly ajar as he gazed down at your muddled expression. 

“It’s me. I’m the one you love.”

He said it as more of a declaration rather than a question, but you could tell that he needed confirmation. 

“Of course, Freddie,” you said. “It’s always been you.”

His hand wasted no time in going to the back of your head, pulling your face into his and melding your lips together in your first kiss with Fred Weasley. After the shock wore off, you were hastily kissing him back, hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t pull back and proclaim what a stupid mistake this all was. But he never did. You kissed and kissed and kissed until you were the one who had to pull back in order to catch your breath. 

It took you both a few seconds to realize what had just happened, and for the first time you both were at a loss for words. “That was, umm…” you mumbled, trying to think of what to say. 

“I love you too.”

Fred’s words were rushed out of his mouth, voice deep ragged. “I mean, when you said it was me, not George, that you loved. I, well, I love you too. Always have. Guess I just thought that you had a thing for George and I had no chance. Pretty silly of me, huh?”

“Downright stupid of you,” you replied, giggling as he pushed you away with a bashful smile gracing his lips. 

“So,” he said quietly, inching closer to you once again, “is there a chance of anything happening now?” Fred repeated the words you had said earlier, making you smile wider than you had all night. 

“Depends,” you said. “Are you gonna get the courage to ask me out?”

Fred waited for a moment before answering. “How about,” he said, offering his arm out for you to link with yours, “we have that dance we never got at the Yule Ball. And then that date we never got after, and then that relationship we never got as well. Oh! And then that wedding, and then a dog, maybe a few kids, a big house in the country--”

“Woahhh, slow down buddy, you haven’t ever properly asked me!”

You took his arm and made your way back to where the music continued to blare and festivities raged on. 

“Y/N, love, may I have this dance?”

You pushed a strand of hair from his face, ruffling it up a little to give it that signature Fred Weasley style. 

“Of course, Freddie. And every dance after that.”

Tag List:

@famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Games Workshop declares war on its customers (again)

There’s a difference between a con-artist and a grifter. A con-artist is just a gabby mugger, and when they vanish with your money, you know you’ve been robbed.

A grifter, on the other hand, is someone who can work the law to declare your stuff to be their stuff, which makes you a lawless cur because your pockets are stuffed full of their money and merely handing it over is the least you can do to make up for your sin.

IP trolls are grifters, not con artists, and that’s by design, a feature of the construction of copyright and trademark law.

Progressives may rail at the term “IP” for its imprecision, but truly, it has a very precise meaning: “‘IP’ is any law that lets me control the conduct of my customers, competitors and critics, such that they must arrange their affairs to my benefit.”

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

In that regard, it is a perfect grifter’s tool — a way to put you on the wrong side of the line for simply living your life in the way that works best for you, not the grifter.

Now, copyright and trademark’s framers were alive to the possibility that they might become this kind of weapon, and they wrote limitations and exceptions into each doctrine that were meant to safeguard the public’s right to free speech and free action.

But those limitations and exceptions are weirdly self-eviscerating. Both trademark and copyright’s limitations assume that they aren’t being weaponized by immoral sociopaths. Both collapse if they are.

Take copyright. Copyright has a suite of limitations and exceptions under various global legal systems, including US law. US law also contains a specific set of exceptions colloquially called “fair use,” a subject of much mystification for lay people.

Under fair use, someone accused of copyright infringement can ask a judge to find that their use of someone else’s copyrighted work is permissible because to deny it would be socially harmful.

The fair use law sets out four factors that judges MAY consider when considering such a claim. Note that these four factors are neither comprehensive (judges can weigh other factors), nor dispositive (failing to satisfy a factor doesn’t disqualify your use from being fair).

If that sounds confusing to you, don’t worry. It is confusing. As the lawyers say, “fair use is fact-intensive.”

The specifics of a use really matter: who’s making the use, what they’re using, why they’re using it, how they use it, and how much they use.

That’s why anyone who claims that “X is never fair use” (for example, commercial fanfic) are full of shit — as are people who say “X is always fair use”).

Commercial fanfic absolutely can be fair use. No less a body than the Supreme Court says so:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wind_Done_Gone

Despite all this ambiguity and nuance, IP grifters who want to force other people to arrange their affairs to their own benefit are laser focused on the four factors, reasoning correctly that if they show a judge that the factors favor them, they’re more likely to prevail.

Half of the four factors are out of the grifter’s reach. As a rightsholder, you can’t control “the purpose and character of the use,” or “the amount and substantiality of the portion used.”

But the other two factors are more readily within the IP wielder’s remit. As someone seeking control a work, you can frame “to the nature of the copyrighted work” by talking up how much creativity and originality went into it, which judges will weigh in your favor.

More importantly — and disturbingly — is the way that an IP holder can influence the fourth factor: “the effect of the use upon the potential market for or value of the copyrighted work.”

Think about that fourth factor for a moment here: if my use of your work doesn’t cost you any money, then it’s more likely that my use is fair.

The corollary: if you can bully some people into paying for something they’ve always gotten for free, then you can claim that the people who refuse to pay are ripping you off — that there is a “market” for the use, and that their failure to pay weakens that market.

This is effectively what’s happened to music sampling. Seminal albums like “It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back” were produced with thousands of uncleared samples — but at the time, no one was clearing samples.

https://memex.craphound.com/2011/07/08/creative-license-how-the-hell-did-sampling-get-so-screwed-up-and-what-the-hell-do-we-do-about-it/

Had the rightsholders to those samples dragged Public Enemy into court, they wouldn’t have had the fourth factor on their side. No one was paying for samples, so a failure to pay for samples had no “effect on the potential market for the copyrighted work.”

However, in the 33 years since Nation of Millions dropped, paying to license samples has become common practice — and the mere existence of paid samples makes not paying for samples more legally risky.

So say a rightsholder decided to aggressively license simple quotations — as the Associated Press did in 2008, when it offered to sell you a license to a 5-word quotation for a mere $12.50.

http://nielsenhayden.com/makinglight/archives/010341.html

All other things being equal, a short quotation from a news article is likely to be fair use. But if the AP managed to terrorize enough bloggers into coughing up $12.50 for a 5-word quote, it could create a market for 5-word quotations.

That market would change the fair use argument for people who don’t pay — yes, they’re making a transformative, critical use, but they’re also undermining the market for the copyright, and a judge might find this change tips the scales away from fair use.

Even more importantly, the additional uncertainty might stampede more people into paying $12.50 for a 5-word quote rather than risk a $250,000 statutory damages award for copyright infringement.

The more people who pay for 5-word quotes, the sturdier the market becomes and the riskier it is to rely upon fair use.

The fourth factor looks like an escape valve for uses that harm no one.

But it actually rewards to bullies who intimidate others out of money they don’t actually owe — until they do.

Trademark has a similar gotcha. Trademark is very different from copyright. Fundamentally, trademark is about protecting buyers, not sellers. Trademark meant to help buyers avoid being tricked into buying an inferior product because it was deceptively named or styled.

If you buy a can of Coke, you want the true Black Water of American Imperialism, not an inferior brand of dilute battery-acid.

But if your Coke turns out to be a fake, you might shrug off the harm or balk at the expense of punishing the fast operator who mis-sold you.

So trademark empowers Coke — and other vendors — to punish third parties who trick their customers, acting as their customers’ champions. Trademark doesn’t exist to prevent Coke from losing money to a rival — it exists to help Coke drinkers get what they pay for.

Trademarks can be registered with the USPTO, who nominally weigh trademark applications to ensure that they’re distinctive and original. Practically, examiners are busy, sometimes careless, and ideologically inclined to grant, not deny, claims.

https://memex.craphound.com/2018/06/14/son-of-cocky-a-writer-is-trying-to-trademark-dragon-slayer-for-fantasy-novels/

But you don’t have to register a trademark to assert it. You can threaten or pursue legal action on the grounds that someone has violated an unregistered trademark, which is any distinctive graphic or phrase that is associated with your product.

Registered or unregistered, trademark enforcement primarily comes down to whether a “naive consumer” would be mislead by someone else’s use of a mark. That is, when you bought a Coke-branded sack of chicken feet, did you think it was blessed by the Coca-Cola company?

If there’s no likelihood of confusion, trademark holders struggle to enforce their trademarks.

This standard seems reasonable, but, like the fourth factor in fair use, it has a sting in its tail.

One of the ways you can induce confusion in the public is to gain a reputation for being a litigious bully. Say Coke is known far and wide for clobbering anyone that uses its trademarks, no matter how trivial the use and no matter how bad it made them look.

If Coke is truly notorious for its zero-tolerance policy, that will lead to a widespread public understanding that every time you see Coke’s marks, the use was blessed by a Coke lawyer — meaning a use that might not otherwise be found to be confusing can be made confusing.

“If that was any other company’s trademark, I’d assume that they had nothing to do with it — but since I know Coke has an army of baby-eating attack lawyers who destroy anyone who uses a mark without permission, that must be an authorized use.”

Like fair use’s fourth factor, trademark’s confusion standard rewards the most vicious and uncaring businesspeople with new rights that their more reasonable competitors do not enjoy. IP selects for sociopathy.

Now, IP — in the most sinister sense of the phrase — has pervaded every industry, but the contradictions of IP are felt most keenly in its spawning grounds: the culture industry.

Culture is in tension with the control of ideas, because culture is the spread of ideas.

Creators (and execs) are vulnerable to the pirate/admiral fallacy: “When I take from my forebears, that’s legitimate artistic progress. When my successors do it to me, it’s theft.”

This pathology, combined with ready-to-hand IP weapons, incentivizes all manner of wickedness. Remember when Marvel and DC teamed up in a bid to trademark the word “super-hero” so that no one else would be allowed to use it?

https://memex.craphound.com/2006/03/18/marvel-comics-stealing-our-language/

These perverse incentives are made tragic by the inherently participatory nature of culture.

It’s not merely that Marvel and DC wanted to steal the word “super-hero” right out of our mouths.

It’s that super-heroes are culturally important because of how we take and remix them in our lives. Marvel went on to use the law to stop us from pretending to be superheroes online, something Casey Fiesler called “Pretending Without a License.”

https://www.researchgate.net/publication/277598023_Pretending_Without_a_License_Intellectual_Property_and_Gender_Implications_in_Online_Games

Which brings me, at last, to Games Workshop, a company that has consistently led the IP bully pack, indiscriminately terrorizing the Warhammer 40k fans who made it a massive commercial success.

Warhammer is a strategy/roleplaying game that is played with miniature creatures that players buy, modify and paint. If you’re not familiar with all this, maybe this sounds a bit like toy soldiers.

It’s a lot more interesting — not just because of the game rules or lore, but because of the incredibly, unbelievable, jaw-dropping virtuosity of Warhammer players when they paint and style those miniatures.

There’s a reason I look forward to Saturday morning’s weekly linkdump from Jonathan Struan of the week’s best Warhammer and other RPG miniatures:

https://www.superpunch.net/search?q=warhammer&max-results=20&by-date=true

and why I follow incredible painters like Aurelie Schick:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/110246635@N06

Warhammer is intrinsically participatory, co-creative and active — it’s not media you consume, it’s media you produce.

Games Workshop has become fantastically rich off of this…and they hate it, and they always have.

For years they’ve pursued fans for producing their own fan-made supplements and additions to the game:

https://www.lumendatabase.org/notices/99301

The more Warhammer players complained about the indiscriminate censorship of their fan media, the harder GW cracked down on them, wiping out whole genres of creative work:

https://www.boardgamegeek.com/geeklist/48933/games-workshop-files-purge-09

GW claimed it was only defending its rights, the grifter’s signature move, making you a crook for having the audacity not to put their shareholders’ interests ahead of your own.

Then Games Workshop claimed a trademark on “space marine,” a generic term that had been widely used in science fiction for decades, including, notably, in Heinlein’s classic “Starship Troopers” (1959).

https://web.archive.org/web/20130207002144/http://mcahogarth.org/?p=10593

They didn’t just go after RPGs that used the phrase — they used trademark claims to remove novels from Amazon for having the phrase in their titles.

“Space marine” is a generic phrase, but GW was betting if they were sufficiently, spectacularly brutal in their enforcement, they could create a proprietary interest: “Now, I know GW destroys anyone who uses ‘space marine,’ so this ‘space marine’ must be endorsed by GW.”

GW just launched a new set of terms of service, including: “individuals must not create fan films or animations based on our settings and characters. These are only to be created under licence from Games Workshop.”

https://www.games-workshop.com/en-WW/Intellectual-Property-Guidelines

Now, this isn’t how copyright works. There are many ways in which a fan film or animation could be fair use, no matter whether GW forbids or permits their production. But this isn’t mere overreach: it’s a direct play against the fourth factor in fair use.

If GW can establish that all animations and vids are produced under paid license, then any fanvid that doesn’t pay for a license has a weaker fair use case, because the fourth factor protects existing licensing markets.

Indeed, as Rob Beschizza points out on Boing Boing, GW timed the terms of service change to coincide with the announcement that they’re launching a subscription service including “cartoons, in-house hobby videos, access to a vault of ebooks and mags.”

https://www.pcgamer.com/now-even-warhammer-has-a-subscription-service/

This is bullying with a business-model, in other words. Fans have figured out how to have fun with each other for free, and GW wants them to stop and pay the company for its in-house version of that fun.

Warhammer creators are demoralized and disheartened. The creator of the hugely successful Oculus Imperia Youtube series posted a heart-rending message of surrender.

https://twitter.com/OculusImperia/status/1421136444437970949

Oculus Imperia also edits “If The Emperor Had A Text To Speech Device,” (TTS) another beloved Warhammer fan series. Alfabusa from TTS posted his own absolutely demoralized goodbye to his work.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OXljeaktnDA

Ironically, both channels would have a stronger fair use case if they mocked and criticized Warhammer, rather than celebrating it, as fair use tips favorably towards critical uses.

The fact is, they love their hobby and its community and they want to improve it, not tear it down.

Neither wants to get dragged into a brutal copyright case against a deep-pocketed corporation. Even people with great fair use cases balk at that:

https://waxy.org/2011/06/kind_of_screwed/

Now, some people might be thinking, what’s the big deal? Why don’t these creators just make up their own stories instead of remixing the ones that come from Games Workshop?

Those people are assholes.

*All* stories are fanfic of some kind or another. Every mystery novel is a remix of Poe’s Murders In the Rue Morgue. Games Workshop’s stories are the thrice-brewed teabags of many sf writers (remember “space marines?”).

Tolkien straight up ripped off his characters from the 1000-year-old Norse poem “Elder Edda,” which features dwarves named “Thorin, Balin, Dwalin, Fili, Kili, Oin, Gloin, Nori, Dori, Ori, Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur.”

https://musingsofatolkienist.blogspot.com/2015/07/hobbit-origins-catalog-of-dwarves.html

Culture is made of other culture.

GW made something wonderful with Warhammer — by plundering the stories that preceded it.

The sin isn’t in the taking, it’s in the pretense that it never happened, and the vicious grifting that punishes anyone who does unto GW as they did unto everyone else.

[butwhyduh]

A Date to Remember

Damian Wayne x Superman’s daughter reader

Damian is 20, reader 19, Jon is her little brother at 18 and Kon acts like an older brother to her.

Warning: angsty and kidnapping

You’d always told Damian that the sunset on the Kent farm was the best in the world. Damian smiled a little as he drove down the long road to Smallville. Damian had thought about classic dinner date in one of Metropolis’ fanciest restaurants but you insisted on meeting him in a barn.

He felt underdressed. Blue jeans and a flannel shirt. Why did he let Jon help him get dressed? He felt ridiculous but at least he wore sensible shoes. But deep down Damian knew you world like it. And he was certainly willing to feel a little foolish for you.

Clark was off world and Lois was on a mission. Jon had his own date in the city so it was the both of you alone tonight. How long had it been since the two of you were alone without someone around? Between his half a dozen brothers and your family with literal super hearing... yeah it’s been tough. So being 50 miles from everyone was kind of a dream.

Damian pulled in the driveway with some flowers and walked up to the house. He knocked on the door only for it to swing open. Damian noticed the splintered door frame and his heart sped up. He called your name. Act like the rich billionaire son while working like Robin, even though he wasn’t quite sure he still wanted the name.

He scanned every surface and he noticed a small scratch near the back door after looking through every room. Most people wouldn’t even notice it. You weren’t there. He looked closely and saw drag marks in the gravel path to the barn. His heart was thundering at this point. You weren’t in the barn either.

You were half Kryptonian but the genetic inheritance was complicated. Jon had won the lottery with having most of his father’s powers and not being as sensitive to Kryptonite. You had lost it. Hypersensitive to Kryptonite and only some speed and increased hearing and strength. Barely about the average human. You weren’t a fighter.

Damian pulled out his phone to call Jon.

“Bit busy here, Damian,” Jon said, sounding far from amused. Damian could hear kissing noises in the background and frowned. He didn’t want to hear that.

“Your sister is missing,” he said and he heard a lot of movement on the phone.

“What??”

“The door jam was kicked in and there are scrap marks of her being dragged away. I think she’s been kidnapped,” Damian said. His voice felt tight. He, son of Batman, let his girlfriend get kidnapped. “Whoever it was clearly waited until she had no other Kryptonians around to grab her. It wasn’t a coincidence that she was taken tonight. Can you get out here? I’m calling father to try and trace her. Her phone is missing too.”

“I’m leaving in 5. Damian, if Luther has her, she can’t handle Krytonite,” Jon said, worry bleeding into his voice. “It’s like it poisons her.”

“I know. But we don’t know who has her. Let’s hope they don’t know she’s part Krytonian,” Damian said, already mentally moving on to his next step. Contact Bruce. Get the bat computer to trace her. Look for more evidence. Don’t freak out completely that she might be poisoned by Kyrotonite.

“Okay. I’m about to fly. I’ll see you soon,” Jon said before hanging up.

——————————

You woke up with a cough. You head throbbed and your stomach rolled as you laid in a bed? Maybe a couch? It was a horrible feeling but you knew exactly what it was: Kryptonite. You couldn’t forget what how that stuff made you feel. You tried to look around to see it but the room was completely dark. Night vision would be nice but you got human eyes. Your slightly enhanced hearing heard nothing but the wind outside. Okay, you were ground level or higher.

You tried to twist in the cuffs that bound your hands only to cry out. There was the Kryptonite. It was on the outside of the cuffs and you almost threw up at it touched your skin. You were cuffed with Kryptonite to a hospital bed, you figured. What other bed had areas perfect for cuffs? Your legs were equally restrained and you felt so exposed in the dark room.

Your dad was off world. He wouldn’t hear you if you called for him. But Jon might. But if you yelled, someone might come in and who knows what they would do. You’d wait a little bit longer. You wanted to fall asleep. The Kryptonite made you feel so dull. Like the first time you were exposed to it.

You were all of 4 years old. Your dad had brought you with him to the Justice League meeting. Relatively safe and Batman promised Robin would watch you. Dick was so excited to be a babysitter. You had hugged him tight enough to hurt before running to the climbing wall.

“Hey!” Called the 16 year old. “I brought games instead!”

You warily walked back over to him and card games and board games fell out of a duffle bag as he opened it. Half the stuff you were far too young for. You bent down as he scooped up his gameboy. You pulled out some games and open a side pocket to grab a small metal box. Dick sat down his gameboy carefully before turning back to you.

“Don’t open th-“ he started before you pulled open the box to show a bright green stone. Followed by you throwing up all over his bag of games. You dropped the box and sat on the floor. Dick quickly closed the box with the piece of Kryptonite and put it in his pocket. He had boroughed one of Bruce’s bags that apparently wasn’t fully unpacked.

“Dad, I don’t feel good,” you said as Clark ran over. Dick looked at you so guiltily.

“I didn’t know,” he swore. “I’m so sorry.” Bruce stood by quietly.

“We need to talk later,” Clark had told Bruce and yeah, they were mad at each other for a while.

——————————————

Jon arrived shortly in a dress shirt and slacks and he looked at Damian just as weird as Damian looked at him. They had basically switched clothing.

“Not to judge but that’s date clothing? You told me to not wear flannel,” Jon said accusingly.

“That’s because your sister wanted me to wear this,” Damian said back. “Let’s focus on finding her. Father’s calling me now. We’ll change in a minute.”

“Hello, you’re on speaker phone,” Damian said.

“Her tracker is showing a warehouse owned by Luthor Corp in downtown Metropolis,” Bruce said. “Do you need help? I can see if Dick is nearby.”

“No thanks. Jon will help me. Thank you, father,” Damian said before hanging up.

“Luthor. I knew it,” Jon said with a frown. “Wait, you put a tracker on my sister? Does she know?”

“Now is not the time. Let’s get to Metropolis,” Damian said, changing the subject while both got dressed. Jon nodded and offered his arms. “I’m not being carried like that. I’ll hold on your back,” Damian said. Jon rolled his eyes and nodded again.

As they flew over corn fields and pastures, Jon began to question Damian. “So when did you put this tracker in? Does she even know? Where is it? Do I want to even know?”

“It’s sub-dermal in her forearm and I haven’t told her yet. And it’s irrelevant right now as it might save her life,” Damian said and Jon looked disgusted. “We need to focus on saving her and then you can be her angry brother.”

“Wow...”

————————————

You moved and the cuffs burned your skin. You gasped and screamed “Jon! Kon!” You called out to them hoping one of them would hear you.

“Dad!” you cried frantic. There was no way he would hear you. “Damian! Jonathan! Conner!”

You panted and your head pounded. You were so tired. You’d lose consciousness if no one saved you. Then who knows what they would do to you.

“Superman!” You screamed desperately before finally passing out.

——————————

“Did you hear that?” Jon said as they flew towards the Metropolis skyline.

“No all I hear is wind. What did you hear?” Damian said.

“Y/n. She’s calling for us,” Jon said speeding up.

“Is she okay?” Fear bled into Damian’s voice.

“I can’t tell. I’m trying to hurry,” Jon said flying quickly towards the industrial area of the city. He landed on the roof of a warehouse. Jon’s eyes glowed as he looked through the building.

“7 men. 4 posted outside the door to the room that’s she’s being held on the 2nd floor. Her heart rate is steady and she isn’t screaming any more. Almost sounds asleep,” Jon said after his analysis.

“Probably tranquilizer. Father’s data said this building is used for research purposes. Does that fit?” Damian asked.

“Uh more like research subject holding. Maybe a small lab on the first floor but other than cameras everywhere, there isn’t much science stuff that I can scan. But also the basement is sealed off,” Jon said.

“How?”

“Lead bound. You can check it out while I rescue her. 4 guys is nothing,” Jon said making a fist.

“Hold on. Luthor would probably have her surrounded by Kryptonite. Just in case one of you look for her. And that’s the last thing we need,” Damian said. “I’ll rescue her and you look for the basement. Knowing Luthor, it’s probably an entire facility of experiments below. He just hadn’t gotten her room ready yet.”

Jon looked frustrated. “Fine. You rescue her but be careful. She is the weakest of us. She’s not invulnerable to bullets or anything.”

“Most of the people I rescue aren’t either,” Damian reminded him. “And I’m certainly not taking a chance with my beloved.”

Jon looked over to respond but Damian was already gone. Just like the rest of the bats: silent goodbyes. Jon quietly moved down to the first floor. He was working but at the same time, his ear was trained on his sister’s heartbeat. Jon might be the younger sibling but she didn’t have powers and he felt so protective.

—————————————

Damian rolled his eyes at the 5 ways he could see that the security sucks in the 3 minutes he hung out the window before climbing in. Large rafters and guards who didn’t bother to look up. Not to mention the fact that they let there be a solid wall between the set of guards which meant that Damian was easily able to jump down to knock them out in pairs without the other set knowing. If the security was any worse they would leave the door unlocked.

The door wasn’t unlocked but it was a deadbolt that Damian easily disabled. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was on purpose. He gulped before opening the door. What if you were really hurt? Or dead? Ignore and get in there.

Damian opened the door and he felt white hot rage. You were tied to a bed and were unconscious. You were in a nice dressy shirt and sweatpants. They’d clearly taken you while you were getting dressed. Damian wanted to kill them. He had to take a breath to help you. Jon was taking them out and Damian was on rescue. He had to stay level headed.

Even the cuffs on your wrists were inadequate. If they had attempted to restrain Damian, he would have gotten out in 3 minutes. When he was 6 years old. The Kryptonite had left nasty red burns on your skin and he clenched his jaw at the sight. Jon better be punching extra hard.

Damian picked you up bridal style and you groaned a little before turning your head against his chest. The farther he got you from that fucking Kryotonite the better you were. He took you to the roof and you started waking up.

“Damian,” you said softly and a little confused.

“Hey you’re awake. How are you feeling?” He asked looking all over your face for injury.

“Kryptonite. I hate that stuff,” you said. Damian grabbed your hand and you hissed. He looked to see bright red knuckles. You’d clearly fought at some point. He certainly knew the signs of punching someone.

“You fought back?”

“Yeah and hitting someone in a helmet and body armor sucks. I got just a few in before they pulled out the damn rock. I throw up every damn time,” you said shaking your head.

Before Damian could comment on how brave and stupid it was to punch body armor, there was a huge crash down on the first floor as someone flew in the building through the window. You grabbed him tightly.

“What the hell is that?”

“Kon. Conner’s here. I’m up here,” you yelled.

Conner flew up to the roof. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Kidnapped. Damian and Jon saved me. He’s still down there actually. Can you check on him?” You said. Damian suddenly stood up.

“What if you were a distraction and the real problem is downstairs?” Damian suddenly said with clarity. The Kryptonite alone was enough to hold you down. The half ass security was to hold their attention when they rescued you. Jon was already flying back down before Damian could say more. Damian weighed his options: leave you alone, bring you with him, or stay out of it and while the last sounded nice, he’d have to go in case of more Kryptonite.

Before Damian could decide, Kon was back on the roof. “You’ve got to come see this.”

Downstairs was a lead lined basement. That alone had you nervous. Jon stood by the door. Little spattering of blood could be seen on his hands. He had a hard look.

“Warning: this is going to be messed up,” he said and you were even more worried. You walked in to see cages. Kids. Unconscious adults lay around in the hallway. “They were experimenting on them.”

You felt nauseous.

“My father is on the way. This is much bigger than I thought,” Damian said messing with his comms. His free hand was on your shoulder protectively.

There were 8 kids in cages. Bruce was running tests on their blood and investigating the area as you helped to get them out of the cages. What a terrible Valentine’s Day.

“Beloved, let’s get you home. We can stay at the farm tonight. You need sleep,” Damian said worried. You looked at him distracted.

“They’re just kids.”

“Come on. Let’s go. Kon is going to stay there too. Just for the night,” Damian said helping you up. Kon flew you both back to the farm.

“I’m going back to help. You okay, kid,” Kon asked as Damian inspected the house.

“I’ll be alright. Just help those kids,” you said.

“Yeah, of course,” he said ruffling your head. You rolled your eyes. “But seriously, the way you screamed I thought you were being murdered.”

You stiffened. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

Kon knew when to quit. Something he had learned from Tim. He gave you a big hug and flew off towards Metropolis.

“Hey. I made your bed so you can sleep,” Damian said quietly. “And a change of clothes.”

You nodded and went upstairs. Damian helped pull off your shirt and put on a sweater. He looked at the marks around your wrist and red knuckles but didn’t note any more bruises or cuts. You pulled on sweatpants and climbed in small twin bed that Lois kept for guests. The pink and yellow flowery quilt felt warm and comforting on your skin. Damian lay beside you after changing and looked at you seriously.

“What is it,” you asked.

“I was so scared tonight. I have been doing this for years and I’ve never been so worried,” he said softly and you looked down and flushed. If you weren’t so freaking sensitive to Kryptonite this wouldn’t have happened. Damian gently lifted your chin and you looked at him.

“I was scared to lose you,” he said running his thumb across your cheek. “I’m going to drive you absolutely mad because I don’t want to take my eyes off of you.”

“Yeah?” You said with a little smile.

“Uh hm. But first sleep,” he said and your body certainly agreed. You curled into him and rest your head on his chest. His arms held you tightly before rubbing your back. You fell asleep to Damian staring at you. He stared at you all night, not even sleeping when Kon came in a few hours later.

———————————

“I have to know what all that was, Bruce,” you said at the Batcave the next day. “I was in there.”

He looked at you for a minute. “They were experimenting with meta DNA. All of those kids have gifts and they wanted to take you too. There were even plans to inject those kids with your blood to see if it would affect them.”

You shivered a little at the thought. Lex Luthor and his obsession with Kryptonian DNA.

“All the records were burned. Most of the warehouse too. Your brothers were.... thorough. And Clark will be home in a few days,” Bruce added.

“Really?”

“Yes. And he’s furious at Luthor. Probably will call soon. He wanted to let you sleep earlier. We’re just running programs here. Why don’t you and Damian go upstairs,” he suggested.

“Bruce Wayne,” came a stern voice behind you. You turned to see your mother, Lois Lane, looking like she was going to beat up Batman. “You put a tracker in my daughter without her permission?”

“You what?” You said.

“Actually that was Damian. Though I want to point out that it helped save her life,” Bruce added. Lois slapped him soundly across the cheek. Bruce just blinked and rubbed his cheek.

“Damian, you put a tracker in me?” You asked shocked. You’d assumed Jon had heard you or Damian’s detective work brought them to the warehouse. Not an invasive tracker in your body. “What the hell?”

“Well I can explain..”

[ticketstomydaydreams]

5:3666

(All We Have: Part Two)

Part One

Colson x Female Reader

Summary: You and Colson fall into a night time studio routine when he starts keeping you company through your insomnia and you decide to work though some past demons

Word count: 3,200 (ish, I lost count editing)

Feels: Fluff with a dash of past trauma

Warnings: Drug & alcohol consumption, domestic violence, cursing, Colson being so sweet it almost makes your teeth hurt

Companion playlist:

Machine Gun Kelly - 5:3666

Warren Zevon - I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

The Vamps - All Night

Halsey - You Should Be Sad

A/N: If you've been affected by anything in this story, please know you're not alone. My inbox is always open and I'm all ears 🖤

______

During the first couple of weeks of moving in, you’d been partying A LOT. The guys wanted to show you just how mad it got, breaking you into their chaotic household, blending the days together. Everyone was hyper and the house was buzzing with energy. You'd been so exhausted from all of it that you'd been all but passing out each night, but you couldn’t lie, it was great fun.

You’d tried to pass on a few nights but Colson would never hear of it, often forcing you out of your room to get involved as the house was filled with people, jam sessions taking place in between drinking games. It was a far cry from your usual homelife, your last housemate mainly kept to themselves so your place was normally pretty chilled. Colson had used your place as a quiet escape over the years, but it seemed you wouldn’t have the same set up extended to you here with this lot.

With the pandemic unfolding, the house had started getting quieter, less people in and out every night and everyone was settling into a lazier way of life. The gang were mooching around the house throughout the day and while the house was still lively at night, it wasn’t quite the party central you’d almost started getting used to. Your normal working routine went out the window as everyone had started working from home mainly and without your daily routine, followed by nights out partying, your insomnia was back with full force.

______

You were lying in your bed, trying to force sleep on yourself but after trying to nod off for a couple of hours, you accepted defeat and got back up. Throwing some sweats on and one of Colson’s huge hoodies (you’d been slowly sneaking them out of his closet, finding that the masses of material drowning your small frame were super comforting), you headed down to the kitchen, turned the stove on and filled the kettle up. You were scrolling through your phone when you heard footsteps on the tiled floor. Colson strolled into the kitchen looking disheveled in a white tank top and boxer shorts, hair ruffled and looking sleepy

“Dude, it’s 3am how come you’re up?”

“Couldn’t sleep, living that oh so fun insomnia life again” you sighed “Did I wake you?”

“Nah, I was already awake. Couldn’t sleep either and heard someone moving about so thought I’d come down” He replied, climbing onto one of the breakfast stools

“Yeah, I think it’s not having much of a routine. Hate lying in bed staring at the ceiling so just got up. You want a cup?” you offered, pointing to the chamomile tea you were brewing

“Sure, thanks” he says, taking the steaming mug from you

You sit down at the breakfast bar with him and start chatting, scrolling through instagram as you do. After about an hour, as you’re talking about an article you’re reading, you notice Colson doesn’t respond and you look to your right and see he’s fallen asleep, leaning on his hand, his mouth slightly ajar.

“Hey, sleeping beauty” you whisper, rubbing his back with your hand “Go to bed”

He slightly jolts at your touch, opening his eyes “Nah man, I’m keeping you company”

“Some company” you laugh softly “pretty sure you just slept through all my rambling there”

He leans against your shoulder, closing his eyes again “Hey, at least you’re not sitting here alone. That’s something right?”

“That’s true” you smile, leaning your head against his “You’re very appreciated, do you know that”

You gently push him upright and stand up “Come on, let’s go to bed. I’m pretty tired myself, so you’ve definitely helped”

He’s laid his head down on his arm on the counter, his breathing getting heavy immediately so you pull his other hand making him stand up. He stands up and puts his arm around your shoulder as you walk towards the stairs, your legs feeling heavy as you climb each step, carrying some of Colson’s weight as he sleepily walks with you

Once you’re standing outside your bedroom doors, he pulls you in for a hug

“Night kid, don’t be wandering around bored if you can’t sleep yeah? Just come get me. Nothing worse than sitting up alone at night…”

“Will do. Thanks Col” You squeeze him a bit tighter as he kisses the top of your head

“Night” you smile, as he let’s you go and turns and heads into his room, waving his hand up behind him

Undressing and crawling into bed, your eyes feel heavy as your head hits the pillow. Colson was right, insomnia was a much less lonely experience with a friend.

______

Of course, as is always the way after your sleepless nights, you sleep in super late the following day meaning the cycle continues and you find yourself wide awake as the witching hour approaches. Feeling restless in your bedroom, you get up, and decide to head downstairs and out into the studio because you figure you might as well put this time to good use. You settle into a chair with your acoustic guitar and started playing, stopping and starting as you figure out a melody, working your latest lyrics in with it

“I wanna start this out and say, I gotta get it off my chest. Got no anger, got no malice…”

“I thought I told you to come get me if you couldn’t sleep”

You almost drop your guitar as you hear Colson’s voice behind you, “Jesus, how are you such an enormous human but you still manage to creep up on me all the time?”

“Just a stealthy motherfucker I guess” He laughs, flopping into the chair next to you

“Whatcha working on? That sounded sweet, keep playing…”

Colson knows you sometimes get a bit self-conscious with people watching you sing, so he lights his joint, rests his head on his hand and closes his eyes. You smile as you see what he's doing, thankful he always understands what you're like.

You turn back to your notepad, reading over your lyric outline quickly before repositioning the guitar in your lap and resetting the metronome

___

‘I wanna start this out and say, I gotta get it off my chest

Got no anger, got no malice, Just a little bit of regret

No, nobody else will tell you, so there's some things I gotta say

Gonna jot it down and then get it out and then I'll be on my way

No, you're not half the man you think that you are

And you can't fill the hole inside of you with money, drugs, and cars

I'm so glad I never ever had a baby with you

'Cause you can't love nothing unless there's something in it for you

Oh, I feel so sorry, I feel so sad

I tried to help you, it just made you mad

And I had no warning about who you are

I'm just glad I made it out without breaking down

And then ran so fuckin' far, that you would never ever touch me again

Won't see your alligator tears

'Cause, no, I've had enough of them’

___

“Man, that was beautiful Y/N. I got some chills right there…You just wrote that?”

“Nah, it’s something I dug up from ‘back then’. Been going through some old lyrics and samples while we’ve got all this time on our hands. It’s kinda cathartic to go over some of that stuff now there’s a bit more distance you know”

______

A couple of years ago, you’d been stuck in a really toxic relationship with your ex, Stevie. Your time with him had been a tornado of arguments, drugs and the constant heartache of him cheating on you. Every time you’d get close to having the strength to leave, you’d always cave in and the mess would continue with you losing a bit of yourself each time you stayed. You’d become pretty used to his violent outbursts, he had always been controlling and short tempered, often pushing you and throwing stuff around your apartment. Despite his own frequent infidelity, he flew into a jealous rage with you constantly.

He’d always hated Colson, despite him being one of your best friends, and while he’d play nice to his face you’d always get it in the neck once you were alone about how you and Colson were ‘too close’ and he ‘didn’t trust him’. Before that final night you’d spent with him, things had been pretty good with the two of you for a few weeks, there hadn’t been much drama and so you hadn’t thought too much of inviting him out with you and the gang for a night out clubbing. Your good run had clearly come to an end, when you felt his hand grab your arm tightly and drag you off the dancefloor where you’d been dancing with Colson. You’d been bundled into an uber so quickly, you hadn’t even managed to get your handbag from inside. You saw Colson running out of the club, followed by Rook and Slim who was holding your bag, as the cab pulled away.

Once you were back at the apartment, he flew into a rage. You’d never seen him this bad before, his eyes were dark and when you tried to argue back, calling his jealousy ‘pathetic’ he snapped. He’d grabbed you by the throat and slammed you against the wall, “Don’t you ever disrespect me like that again” he’d spat in your face, before striking you so hard with his fist that the skin across your cheek split open. It was as if his actions had knocked him back to reality, he’d let go of you and you ran to your bedroom, locked the door behind you and started packing a bag. He hammered on the door, begging you to open it and you could hear that he was crying. You looked around for your phone before you remembered you’d left it at the club. Desperate to get away, you opened your laptop and brought up instagram, managing to send Colson a message asking him to send you an uber to his house straight away. You’d thrown your laptop and a few more bits in your bag, the battery dying before you had a chance to wait for a reply, before pulling the bedroom door open and barging past Stevie. He’d tried to grab you, but you’d finally had enough “Never fucking touch me again” you spat, pushing him off you. The hatred in your voice rooted him to the spot and he said nothing as you walked out, the door slamming behind you.

Once you were outside the apartment building, the reality of what had just happened and the situation you were in started to wash over you. You had no phone, no wallet, your laptop was dead. Just as you were starting to seriously panic, an uber pulled up and Colson had leapt out of the backseat. You’d been in total shock and had just let Colson guide you into the cab and then out into his house, up to his room. He didn’t say anything as he led you to his bathroom and lifted you up onto the counter. He grabbed a flannel and soaked it with warm water, rinsing it out before pressing it softly against the cut on your cheek, gently wiping away the blood that had mixed with your mascara laced tears. The tenderness of his actions was almost too much and you started to sob again.

“Hey, hey. Y/N, look at me” he said softly, lifting your chin so you looked at him, his blue eyes misty themselves “It’s okay, you’re safe here. Don’t move, I’ll be back in a sec”

He left the bathroom and returned with a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. Putting them on the counter next to you, he crouched down and undid the straps on your heels, slipping them off your feet and then helping you down from the counter. “I’ll leave you to change”

When you came out of the bathroom, Colson was lying in his bed “Come here” he said, holding his arm and beckoning into his side. You crawled under the covers next to him and snuggled into him, his long arms wrapping around you.

“Col…” you said quietly

“Yeah?” he whispered back, stroking your hair off your forehead

“Thank you…”

“You don’t need to thank me. I’ve always got you Y/N”

______

“I hated that fucking guy. That night...I wanted to kill him after what he’d done to you”

You see him tense up at the memory and you lean over and squeeze his knee “You’re such an amazing friend, do you know that. I don’t know what I would’ve done that night without you”

"You're a fucking warrior Y/N, you'd have handled your shit. I was just happy you trusted me enough to let me be there for you. You deserve so much better than that" he says, covering the hand you'd placed on his knee with his, staring you in the eyes and returning the smile that's crept across your face

"You know there's been a few punches I've wanted to dole out on behalf of you over the years, but you've never let me" you tell him

"Too right I'd never let you. I never want you in the drama, you're too good for getting caught up in that shit" he replies, pointing at you with mock sternness

"Hey" he says, seeing your expression wash over with a tint of sadness "At least the sleepless nights aren't what they were then…

… If we're gonna work through some old demons this lockdown, I'm sure I've got some songs and lyrics that have never seen the light of day" He reaches over the desk and pulls his laptop towards him "You've inspired me… "

"Oh no, are we gonna fuck our heads up with this?" you joke nervously, worrying that Colson's going to delve into something that's going to upset him

"Nah, I got you covered and you got me, right?"

"True dat" you say, as he holds his fist out so you can fistbump, his eyes now focused on his laptop screen

______

You felt kinda bad, having kept Colson up all night with you the last two nights, especially as you'd got him reminiscing about some tough memories, so tonight you tried to sneak past his room when your restlessness got the better of you.

"Nice try kid!" Colson says as he throws his bedroom door open, causing you to yelp in fright. standing there topless with his sweatpants hung low in his hips, he lights the joint hanging from his mouth "I told you we were in this together now"

"I felt bad, making you stay up with me"

"You didn't make me do shit…Wait a sec, let me find a hoodie. If I have any left in here…" he says, giving a pointed look towards the huge blue hoodie you were wrapped in before walking back into his room and rummaging through his drawers

"Oh shush, you have like a hundred…"

"Right come on" he says, pulling a pink hoodie over his head and flipping the hood up over his messy hair "Let's see what we get into tonight…"

______

And so the nights went on like this, the two of you falling into an easygoing studio routine. If there wasn't anything else going on in the house, you'd eat dinner together then head to the studio and work through the night into the small hours, skipping out the pretense of trying to sleep. You were both pretty productive at this time it seemed, both being proclaimed night owls, and keeping busy during these uncertain times was keeping your minds off the unfolding pandemic.

Considering he’d referred to his home studio in the past as the ‘rage cage’ (and it certainly could still be party central when the entire crew got involved), it was actually a place you drifted towards to relax these days. You’d always worked well together in a studio, but over the weeks spending so much time just the two of you, you became more in tune with each other, noticing when one of you had hit a wall and it was time for bed. Sometimes you'd work in comfortable silence, side by side, engrossed in your own seperate tasks. Sometimes barely any work would get done as you put the world to rights talking about anything and everything in a late night impromptu therapy session.

This evening, you'd been sitting cross legged in your chair for hours now, focusing so hard on editing a song which was driving you mad, you hadn't realised your feet had gone numb. As you try to move, your knees crack and pins and needles shoot through your legs. Colson looks up from the screen he'd been engrossed in after hearing you groan and sees you rubbing your feet trying to bring back the feeling to them

‘C’mere’ he said, before turning his chair towards you and leaning down to grab your legs, bringing your feet up onto his lap. He pulls your socks off and begins massaging your feet. You lean your head back, eyes closed and let out a long ‘hmmm’. You don’t see Colson glancing over at you and shifting in his seat as he lets out slow breath before turning back to his screen

“Now this is the kind of work session I could get used to”, you sighed "You being my studio bitch on hand for foot rubs. Although, I imagine this enjoyment goes both ways Mr Foot Lover” you tease, throwing him an exaggerated wink

Colson throws his head back with a hearty chuckle, and light heartedly slaps your calf

"Keep it in your pants Y/N"

You laugh and wiggle your toes, Colson letting out a dramatic, throaty groan in response. "Those are some sexy little toes though" he states, sticking his tongue out.

Still laughing, you put your hand to your chest, and gasp as you feign prudishness and try to pull your feet away. He grabs both your feet in one of his hands, keeping them in place then leans over the desk and pulls your laptop towards you

"Get on with some work you, this is supposed to be keeping you motivated, not distracted"

He scolds affectionately, with a smile on his face

“Okay, okay, spoilsport” you grumble as you pull your computer onto your lap

Half an hour passes, your legs still on Colson’s lap with him still massaging your feet absentmindedly with one hand while he works, and your eyes begin to feel heavy. You don’t realise you’ve fallen asleep, until you’re awoken by a “woah” from Colson as he catches your laptop which is about to fall. Taking it from your lap, he states “Right, time for bed you”

You check your phone and see it’s already 5:36am.

You stand up and stretch then walk over behind Colson, putting your arms around his shoulders, and resting your chin on his head. Looking at his screen, you yawn “You got much left to do?”

He leans back into you, bringing his hand up to rest on your arm, “Making some good progress so just gonna finish a couple of bits”

“Okay dude” you gently kiss the top of his head and squeeze the back of his neck a couple of times as you turn to leave “Try and get some rest, we’ve got a long day of sweet fuck all to do tomorrow” you say through another big yawn

“Heh yeah, Night Kid” he says softly, letting out a yawn himself. Colson turns and watches you head out of the studio and lets out a big sigh. Feeling the back of his neck still tingle from where you’d squeezed it, he’s suddenly aware of how empty the room feels without you in it....

______

Taglist: @triplexdoublex @thisshitisfuckingdifficult @brightblaqkkheaven

Lace Up! ❌❌

[zhanyes]

Tianshan dating headcannons because i also love these two dumbasses too

Also dedicated to @el-mundo-real who requested tianshan headcannons 🖤

. . .

- Literally no one knows whether they’re dating or not. Not even themselves because they don’t talk about it

- Jian yi thinks they’re dating already and Zhengxi says they’re still getting there (somehow they’re both right) and they make a bet

- He tian likes staying over at Mo’s and he’s gotten pretty close to mama Mo

- Mama Mo teaches him how to knit !! He tried to knit a scarf for Mo but it came out a little messy and tangled. Mo still wears it anyway saying it’s a waste of yarn if not used (He’s actually really touched)

- He eats dinner there about 5 times a week and sleeps over thrice a week. He’s a permanent fixture in the house now, he has his own plate and mug, utensils, toothbrush, a spare key, and more than half of his closet migrated to Mo’s closet

- Sometimes Mo “accidentally” wears He tian’s sweaters and He tian dies a little bit every time

- Sometimes He tian deliberately wears Mo’s clothes and it’s always tighter and a bit shorter on his body so when he moves his arms the shirt rides up. Mo guanshan shouts at him to change and to stop contaminating his clothes but his ears are red anyway

- They bicker A LOT. Over the smallest things because He tian loves riling him up and Mo gets riled up too easily

He tian, for the 7th time in 5 minutes: “What does this thing do?”

Mo guanshan, losing his mind: “THAT’S A FUCKING MICROWAVE WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK IT DO?!”

- There are times when homicide is the best option

Mo Guanshan: “I acknowledge that I can be mean sometimes-”

He tian, in the bathtub: “Sometimes?”

Mo Guanshan: “Shut the fuck up. So I brought you a bath bomb as a peace offering.”

He tian: “That’s a fucking toaster.”

Mo guanshan: “Exactly. A bath bomb.”

- Contrary to what his actions say, Mo guanshan is actually relieved that He tian spends most of his time in their apartment. He tian never told him but he can see how lonely the other teenager is

- Mo guanshan tries to teach He tian chores because He tian knows nothing about cleaning or doing everyday things

Mo guanshan: “How the fuck do you not know how to wash dishes where the hell do you eat?!”

He tian, drinking milk straight out the carton: “Obviously on plates, Momo. I just throw them away after.”

Mo guanshan, sputtering: “WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU THROW OUT PLATES?!”

- The first and only recipe that He tian managed to cook successfully is instant noodles with boiled egg that’s not quite cooked enough. Sometimes he brings Mo noodles as breakfast in bed and he looks so proud of it Mo has a hard time saying that the noodles are overcooked and that noodles aren’t exactly breakfast food (he eats it anyway)

- Mo sometimes, only sometimes, brings He tian grocery shopping because he needs to learn how to buy food for himself. Somehow He tian always ends up in the miscellaneous section where he has a pack of ballpens he’ll never use, 2 journals he’ll also never use, a couple of scented candles, various dog clothes and leashes for the dog he doesn’t have, a couple’s mug, and a vase in his cart

- He tian stopped trying to barge into Mo guanshan’s bed and sleeps on the futon on the floor beside it. It’s not the most comfortable and he had a hard time sleeping on it at first but he likes being in Mo’s company even while sleeping

- Sometimes Mo would move in his sleep and leave his arm dangling on the side of the bed, He tian grabs it of course and Mo wakes up to sweaty palms. He still leaves it for a few moments before harshly slapping away He tian’s hand

- Mo’s hands aren’t smooth at all because of working all the time and practicing the guitar but He tian loves them all the same. He likes to feel the contrast in textures with his slightly smoother hands

- He tian has a thousand pictures of Mo guanshan sleeping in various angles and poses. He has his favorites framed and keeps it on his bedside table in his apartment so when he’s sleeping there he still feels like they’re sleeping together

- Mo guanshan has a few of He tian sleeping but he swears up and down that he'll never do anything as disgusting as that. He makes one of them his wallpaper.

- Sometimes when they don’t feel like sleeping yet they stay up talking and arguing about random things

Mo guanshan: “Why would aliens be in space? The ocean is definitely the way to go.”

He tian: “But why would they be in the ocean? They’ll drown.”

Mo guanshan: “They’re aliens maybe they have gills or some shit.”

He tian: “I’m telling you they’re not in the ocean, Mo.”

Mo guanshan: “And I’m telling you you’re wrong, bastard.”

- On rare days they would stay up talking about their pasts and about life in general, with the lights closed and the only source of light is the moonlights from the window

- One of these nights, Mo told He tian about what happened to his dad and their restaurant, why they’re in so much debt over it and He tian holds Mo’s hand tightly throughout

- He knew better than to say that he could pay for that debt so Mo doesn’t need to worry anymore (He still says it anyway and Mo blew a fuse) but he swore to help Mo through other means

- The next day he orders a whole carton of mangoes, apples and peaches in his apartment and learns how to peel properly through youtube and Zhengxi

- He goes to Mo’s part time job in the grocery and helps him peel fruits, Mo guanshan doesn’t mention anything when he notices the bandaids on the other’s hands but he does cook him beef stew for dinner

- As expected He tian’s presence brings more customers and the manager asks if he wants to work there permanently but he said he’s only working for Mo so the manager can give Mo a raise instead

- Once, Mo got sick so he missed his part time job for the day (He was supposed to give away flyers on the streets) and got extra pissy because He tian didn’t visit him and wouldn’t answer his phone 

- Apparently He tian took over his job for the day and he only finds out when he goes to the manager and the manager asks when his ‘boyfriend’ can come back to work again because the customers love him

- He tian almost never talks about himself but once he talked about the puppy who disappeared after he saves it and then found out that it’s still alive after all these years

- Mo keeps quiet about it the whole time he was talking and the next few days he takes time to knit a small dog plushie and leaves it on He tian’s futon

- He tian didn’t cry, he didn’t (he did), but he hugged Mo and whispered a sincere thank you. For once, Mo lets it happen

- Mo quickly regrets his decision when He tian names the plushie “Chicken sandwich”

- He tian brings Mo in a lot of not-dates (according to Mo) like arcades, ocean parks, festivals, and fairs because he didn’t get to go as a kid and he wants to experience it for the first time with Mo

- They get crazy competitive in every game. Every. Single. One. If it’s a co-op shooting game they would compete on who kills the most enemies, if it’s a harmless crane game it becomes a competition of who can get the most plushies

- They both each have a photobooth strip. Mo keeps his as a bookmarker in a journal, and He tian has his in the back of his phone.

- They go on a double not-date with Jian yi and Zhengxi and it ends up in almost getting chased by a police car at 2 am in pokemon onesies and holding a bag of chips 

- Sometimes Mo would visit his dad in prison and just rant to him about He tian

Mo guanshan: “The nerve of that guy to do something like that in front of a teacher urgh.”

Papa Mo: “Your boyfriend sounds like a fun guy, son. I want to meet him soon.”

Mo guanshan: “BO-BOYFRIEND?!”

Papa Mo: “Yes???”

Mo guanshan: “No??? That bastard isn’t my boyfriend??”

Papa Mo: “Are you sure about that?”

Mo guanshan: “...Yes?”

- Enter gay panique because he doesn’t actually know whether He tian is his boyfriend or not

- They don’t call each other boyfriends and they never talked about it so no??? But they’re also not just friends so maybe??? Do they go on dates?? Can grocery trips be considered dates??

- He rings up Jian yi and the blonde just laughed for 5 minutes straight without stopping and he wonders how he’s still breathing

Mo Guanshan, after hearing Jian yi laughing for 5 minutes: “Are you fucking done?”

Jian yi, trying to catch his breath: “Man this is some top-tier entertainment.”

Mo guanshan: “WELL?!”

Jian yi: “Look bro literally no one knows whether you’re dating, fucking, planning each other’s murder OR planning a murder together.”

Mo guanshan: “What if it’s all of the above?”

Jian yi: “Then congratulations…? Please don’t murder me?”

Mo guanshan: “Urgh you’re fucking useless I should have called Zhengxi.”

Jian yi: “Wait don’t, I don’t wanna lose the bet. How about this, there’s a festival upcoming for couples and families, if He tian asks you then you’re probably, maybe, dating?”

Mo guanshan: “That’s stupid. AND WHAT BET?!”

Jian yi: “Ah woops gotta water my dog.”

- Mo tells himself that it’s stupid and there’s no way he’s falling for that...but he feels disappointed anyway when He tian doesn’t ask him the following days

- He tian asks on the last day before the festival, but he asks mama Mo first and Mo guanshan second cuz he wants to celebrate with both of them. He confessed that he’s never actually went to a festival with a family before so he was trying to build up courage to ask

- Mo guanshan is an absolute goner after that

- On the day of the festival, they find Zhanyi there on a date but decide to leave them alone. While they were leaving Jian yi kept throwing Mo guanshan so much winks that Zhengxi thought he got something in his eye

- The festival was fun but Mo couldn’t take his eyes off how happy and content He tian looks

- Queue cliche fireworks scene but it’s He tian being amazed by the fireworks and Mo looking mesmerized at him thinking, “Ah, I want him to look at me like that.”

- The next day, he drags He tian to visit his dad in jail

Papa mo: “Oh this is a surprise, you’ve never brought someone before?”

He tian, trying to introduce himself: “Hello, sir. I’m He tian, Mo guanshan’s fri-”

Mo guanshan, cuts him off: “Boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend, dad.”

He tian:

[delimeful]

(dont) take this the wrong way (5)

warnings: injury, blood mentions, past psychological&emotional&physical abuse, ptsd, sickness

-

Virgil woke up, which was only unsurprising for the few moments it took him to 1. realize that his head was pounding and 2. remember the two very large reasons why.

His eyes flew open, and he found himself half-submerged in a shallow pool of cool water, surrounded by flat ledges of dry rock. The sound of ocean waves lapping against the cliffside echoed around the cavern, which was dimly lit by overhead cracks in the ceiling.

In one of these beams of paltry light, Logan was slumped over on his side, glasses askew. Virgil’s relief at seeing him was instantly overshadowed by terror at what could have happened to the human after Virgil had gone and gotten his skull knocked against rock.

His headache worsened, and he lifted a hand to press against the sore spot, pausing when he found more of those stiff bandage strips wrapped around his head.

The soft sloshing of water seemed to be enough to startle Logan into wakefulness, and the human brightened slightly at the sight of him. “Virgil. It’s good to see you awake. Are you feeling any pain or nausea?”

“What happened?” Virgil replied in lieu of the real answer, which was ‘everything hurts’. “Where are we, I thought we were dead for sure—!”

“Take a few deep breaths,” Logan advised, shuffling closer to the pool and offering a hand. Virgil took it gratefully. “We’re not currently in any danger. I believe we’re at the home of the seal-hybrid mer, if—“

“We’re what?!” Virgil’s voice dropped to a horrified double pitch, his grip on Logan’s hand instantly turning crushing.

“Ow,” Logan said in a pointed monotone. Virgil eased up before his claws could turn the human’s palm into bloody ribbons. “Let me finish, please. I’ve managed to work out a rudimentary method of communication, and as far as I know, we’re not currently at risk.”

“From the giant mer-eating monsters that literally kidnapped us, you mean?”

“Yes, that was the potential risk I was referring to.” Logan pulled Virgil further upright, reaching out with his free hand. “More importantly, you’ve been out for some time. Will you allow me to take a look at your injury?”

Virgil shuffled a little closer, allowing the hand to make contact with him. He had traversed currents of all temperatures, but in chilled still waters like this, Logan’s warmth was more than welcome. “I dunno how that’s more important than our inevitable, rapidly-approaching deaths, but sure, fine. Knock yourself out.”

“I will not? You are already dealing with a likely concussion, I see no reason to double that number.” Logan squinted at him like he was concerned that the head wound had taken a worse toll than he’d thought.

“No, it’s-- it’s just an expression. Don’t actually pass out, or I’ll freak out.”

“Ah,” Logan acknowledged, his hand twitching like he wanted to grab something before returning to carefully peeling the bandages away. “My apologies. Colloquialisms are not my strong suit.”

Virgil blinked back at him, because five syllable words were a little much even when he wasn’t concussed. “No worries?”

Logan continued to gently probe the back of his head. A sharp pang made him jerk away with a muted hiss, his vision blurring with pain as the sharp motion only agitated all his other cuts. He waved off Logan’s apology before it was fully formed. “S’fine. What’s the damage?”

“The bleeding has stopped, which is a good sign. It’s swelled significantly, but the cool water is hopefully helping reduce that as well. The best course of action now is for you to rest and recover in a dark, quiet place, ideally for at least two full days.”

“Yeah, but that’s not happening unless we get away first,” Virgil shot back, irritably twitching his fins down as Logan rewrapped the injury. The human let out a slow breath.

“Virgil. I believe the situation isn’t as dire as you think.” He settled back on his heels, back stiff as he spoke. “Our captors have shown no signs of aggression or hunger, even with the significant bleeding from your head wound. It’s possible--”

“It’s not possible!” Virgil cut him off, scowling fiercely. “That doesn’t mean anything. They’re playing some kind of sick game the way they always do, and if you let them trick you, you’re going to lose!”

Logan looked back at him inquisitively, still not getting it. “What evidence are you basing this off of? I was under the impression that you’ve spent only marginally more time in their company than me. Have they attempted to trick you in the past?”

“Yes, no, I mean--,” Virgil groaned, pulling at his bangs. “They don’t have to say it. That’s just how giants like them operate. We’re smaller, they can do what they want to us, we don’t get a say in it. You escape or you die.”

“Yet, we’ve been in their admittedly less-than-ideal care for over 24 hours, and they haven’t hurt us or made any indications they intend to hurt us.” Logan gestured expansively, his hand a bit wobbly. “That’s a rather long time to pretend, and for what purpose? If it was what they desired, we have been easy targets for a meal from the moment they relocated us.”

A rather long time to pretend. Virgil swallowed down a hysterical laugh, feeling dizzy. If a day of false niceties was all it took to buy his trust, he’d have never gotten away from his first encounter with a giant mer. “You’re— you’re human. You don’t know anything about this.”

Logan frowned. “I may be human, but that does not make me an idiot. Even with a language barrier, body language and expression are invaluable tools for communication, and I’ve been doing very little but observe them while you were unconscious. Virgil, if you just tried talking to them—“

“No!” he snapped, curling in even as his fins flared wide and threatening. He wouldn’t do this again, wouldn’t be subjected to the world’s most torturous game of catch and release, wouldn’t be lured back into too-tight hands by false promises and meaningless apologies. He couldn’t do that again.

Measured, rhythmic tapping on the back of his hand slowly brought him back to the present, cool air and Logan’s steady voice by his side. His throat was closed-up-too-tight, his gills too far out of the water to switch lungs— but the rhythm was counted out over and over, breathe in, hold, and out.

“There you go,” Logan said as Virgil took in another long, shuddering drag of air. “Well done.”

The air smelled like iron. He realized that somewhere in the past few minutes, he’d dug his claws into the soft sides of the human’s hand, drawing blood. He pulled away as though he’d been burned.

Logan didn’t even twitch, still searching his gaze intently. “Are you with me?”

Virgil nodded stiffly. “Yeah, I— fuck, I’m sorry.”

“No, I shouldn’t have pushed you. I didn’t realize— but I should have.” A deep, resolved breath. “It’s okay. I’ll find you a way out that doesn’t involve interacting with them.” Logan’s gaze went distant and hazy with thought, and Virgil hesitantly drew closer, pulling a bandage free to wrap around his bleeding hand.

… He was really warm. Clammy, too, and he’d been sitting in a cold, wet cave for hours, hadn’t he? Had been completely drenched for even longer.

“You’re sick,” Virgil said, and Logan took a moment too long to refocus on him. How had it taken him so long to notice? “That’s why you need me to talk to them. You need to get home.”

“My illness is no more severe than your injuries,” he deflected, adjusting his glasses clumsily. “Right now, the priority is getting you away from triggering circumstances. If my suspicions are correct, I will be fine regardless.”

Right. His suspicions, based on his willingness to trust his own abductors. He’d trusted Virgil, too, back in those tunnels. He’d known that he might be abandoned and he’d freed Virgil anyways, taken his hand anyways. Gotten hurt for his trouble.

He’d get hurt worse if Virgil left him here.

“... Yeah,” Virgil said, tucking the edge of the bandage in carefully. “But you should sleep for now. We both should. You said they haven’t done anything yet, right?”

“Yes, but…,” Logan’s brow was furrowed slightly, as though he knew something was off, but wasn’t quite sure what. “I mean, you do need rest. If… If you’re sure.”

“I am,” Virgil replied, curling against the edge of the pool and pillowing his head on his arms to hide their shaking. “Get some sleep, Specs.”

—

It was early morning when Patton woke to the splash of something small dropping into the water from his air room.

The room wasn’t overly large, being designed only for occasional use when he needed some extra oxygen in his system. It was also quite a few caves up above his sleeping den, but with two delicate little guests staying over, his senses were on high alert. He disentangled from Roman, who had been clinging to him for extra warmth, waking the shark mer in the process.

“Mwha’huh?” he asked groggily, and Patton chuckled at the way one side of his hair had been pressed into a tangled bundle.

“I think they may be awake!” he reported quietly, and Roman perked right up. They had originally hovered in the room over the two of them, only leaving after the human-- busy tending to the tiny mer’s wounds-- had gotten too fed up and used charades to shoo them away, leaving them with nothing to do but sit around and think about how badly they’d messed up. As such, they were both more than eager to start fixing things.

Upon popping up into the air room, however, they found only the human, lying completely still apart from the slow rise and fall of his chest. Deep in sleep, with an empty pool at his side.

Roman and Patton exchanged a panicked look, and ducked back underwater to search through his home and see where, exactly, the injured mer had gone.

It didn’t take long to spot him. The mer had practically every fin and frill puffed out, even the ones that were still injured. The threat display as eye-catching as they got.

He was hovering in the opening of a vent crevice, one that helped circulate seawater through the caves. It was small enough that if he vanished through it, they wouldn’t be able to stop him or see where he was headed. He knew it, too, staring them down with sharp defiance rather than absolute terror.

“Don’t move,” he said, as though they hadn’t both frozen at the sight of him. “I’m going to-- to make a deal with you.”

“A deal?” Roman asked, and received a sharp, wild-eyed glare for his troubles.

“Yeah, a deal. The other one is sick,” a slight jerk of the head toward the air room, “so he won’t last long here. Probably already too far gone to even play a single game.”

Patton was torn between concern (the human was sick?) and confusion. Game?

“But I’m fine. I’ve had much worse than this.” The mer drifted back slightly, closer to the crevice. “If I leave now, you’ll never find me, and then Lo-- the human will die, and you won’t have anything to play with.”

A creeping sense of dread overcame Patton. He still didn’t know what was going on, but it was sounding more and more like something was seriously wrong here.

“So, a deal. You take the human back to where you found him, and I’ll stay-- I’ll stay here,” his voice cracked painfully, but he ignored it, staring at them with a desperate sort of intensity. “With you. I won’t try to get away or anything. I-- I swear.”

“Get away?” Roman asked, his voice going high with the same sort of horror that currently swamping Patton. The mer ducked back at the sound, gaze flitting between them, some of that terror returning.

“I will! I’ll leave, if you-- you can either have one or none, that’s the deal, I’m not kidding. I’m not!” His fins flared wider, blood beginning to leak from some of them. “He’s human anyways, he can barely even swim, you don’t want him--”

“Kiddo,” Patton cut in urgently, raising his hands peacefully and trying not to wince when the mer flinched, “if he’s sick, of course we’ll take him back to where he can get help. No deals necessary, okay?”

The little guy didn’t look reassured at all. “I want to watch. I have to see you put him back, where other humans will find him, or else the deal’s off.”

He didn't believe them. Patton exchanged a helpless look with Roman, who finally nodded.

“Of course,” the shark mer said, “You are more than welcome to accompany us back to the mainland where Patton found him, provided that you’re not exacerbating your injuries.”

The mer hissed at him, a tiny, reedy sound. “And whose fault is that?”

“Irresponsible human fishing vessels?” Roman tried, and then wilted under both Patton and the mer’s looks when the joke fell flat. He cleared his throat. “It is, of course, mine. I wanted to apologize for the way I manhandled you before. Regardless of my intentions, it was unbefitting behavior, and it hurt you. I am truly sorry.”

He bowed with a little flourish, moving slower than normal. The mer stared at his bowed head apprehensively, and then covered the look up with a distrustful scowl.

“If you’re sorry, get Logan out of this place before he gets any worse,” he finally replied, and Patton nodded and went to retrieve the human-- Logan, presumably.

Glancing over his shoulder as he left, he could see the way the tiny mer’s fins had settled just slightly, not quite as frantically overextended as before.

It was a start.

[somecunttookmyurl]

If It is okay to ask, how to tell when a kid is adhd or just being a kid? Looking back I can see a few signs like constant daydreaming, restlesness fidgeting etc but that wasnt much different from the other kids. As a teenager it became more clear I think because most of girls my age were not behaving like tomboys anymore and the symptoms mentioned above did not go away plus i think I had/have rsd. But only now as an adult i feel like these things are actually getting on the way. I daydream a lot, the restfulness didn't go anywhere, rsd still anoying as fuck (i think this is related with being a people pleaser? I got that too) and i notice more and more this horrible thing you usually call executive dysfunction. I cant really get a diagnosis and while I relate to a lot of symptoms and posts adhd people share, I'm really scared Im just procrastinating and trying to use adhd as an excuse for not getting things done. And I feel really bad about that. So back to my original question, if the signs were there since childhood but did not trouble me until like 4 years ago, how can i tell If It was adhd or Just kid stuff?

i mean the fact it didn't go away is a pretty good tell, honestly.

redmore to save the dash

as an adhd kid you may, with other children

-had difficulty making/keeping friends or socialising and felt "weird" or "different"

-were not invited to parties, made excuses to not go, or acted inapproptiately when there (and were never invited back)

-easily gave in to peer pressure from a desire to "fit in"

-were probably called "gullible"

-found it difficult to "wait your turn" in any activity

-frequently picked last for games and team sports

-found it difficult to "share" things with others

-caused fights/arguments with siblings/other children over trivial things

-may have been called "spiteful" or "vindictive"

-not realised when you were "taking things too far" with joke or play

-tried to annoy people on purpose

_________________________________

as an ADHD child in school you may

-consistently not done school/homework until the last minute. not by choice, but because you could never seem to "just get started on it" until it was immediately pressing

-not known where to start with longer-term projects / never really "got" how to study or revise for exams. could not organise notes.

-made careless mistakes in schoolwork

-had report cards littered with "intelligent but could try harder" "needs to apply themselves" "has potential but lazy" etc

-parents/teachers said you had an "attitude" / you had a tendency to "talk back"

-often seemed to forget things you had already learned until you were reminded of them, or had difficultly linking knowledge together

-doodled a lot in class, and found doing so made it easier to listen

-easily distracted by external stimuli ie things happening outside the classroom window, or a conversation in the next room

________________________________

as an ADHD child at home you may

-had trouble getting up in the mornings (your parents had trouble dragging you up, and you felt groggy/sleepy "just 5 more minutes")

-had issues going to bed. did not seem "tired" at bedtime. stayed up late reading frequently. refused to get ready for bed.

-always been rushed to get ready for things

-being forgetful or "a ditz"

-being called "lazy"

-forgetful with daily activities such as brushing your teeth and would need to be reminded

-found it hard if not impossible to keep your room clean and organised. not "knowing where to start" with it

-walking past things without seeing them. eg my parents would leave my laundry on the stairs to take up and then berate me because "you've walked past it six times today". not really seeing mess in general bc it became "background noise"

-not following through on instructions/not finishing what you were asked to do. like doing half of the dishes

-you were over-sensitive to criticism

-would often lie to get out of obligations, maybe even compulsively (ie you couldn't help it)

-you answer to "why did you do/say x" or "why didnt you do x" was frequently "i don't know" and you genuinely didn't know

-liked to do things the same way every time and got upset if the structure or plan changed

-would become frustrated if your demands were not immediately met. could not "wait until later"

-somebody would ask you to do something and you wouldn't do it for several hours, without realising it had been that long

_________________________________________

as an ADHD child in your leisure time / emotionans you may

-people saying "are you even listening to me?" a lot

-talking excessively, being "a chatterbox"

-despite being a "chatterbox" around familiar people, you were very shy/withdrawn around others. your two modes are "verbal diarrhea" and "mute"

-answering questions before the person even finished asking, interrupting others a lot

-you had a lot of interests but didn't keep up with any of them for very long

-were "emotional" or "overdramatic" ie crying or getting angry easily

-identified as a "perfectionist" and would either hyperfocus on unimportant details, or gave up on new pursuits you were not "immediately good" at

-people said you have a "selective memory" because you can eg name all 151 pokemon in order but not remember to pick up milk on the way home

-your moods seemed to change quickly and drastically

-had difficulty "behaving yourself" in public ie when out shopping

-broke/smashed things when angry

-got injured by doing reckless/stupid things

-complained of "being bored" often

-watched TV or played video games excessively and could lose hours at a time without noticing