#he mentions being gray later and she's like ''HUH??''

[apenapaperandadoofus]

Part 7? If my mom reading tgcf. I forgot to keep doing these so uh- we’ve gone from black water to the Mount Tonglu opening now lmaooo

Loved the state of you scene, she thought it was so cute and sweet.

Felt so bad for SQX the entire time. I managed to get her to ship him with Ming Yi so uhhhh

Fucking d i e d at the coffin scene she was like oh my goodness 😳 the entire time lmaoooo

When PM asked then “why is the coffin so small” and then Juan afterward goes “if you’re worried about who’s dead why don’t you kill yourself” she EXPLODED like she had to take a moment

Also I don’t remember when she said it but quoting her: “Go Xie Lian! Go defend your man!”

She managed to connect The Reverend and Black Water being one, WHOEVER she did not expect the Ming Yi reveal.

She didn’t comment much the entire I’mSorry Ming-Xiong scene, just gasped whenever I read something and was quiet. I think she was quite flabbergasted 😭

Then they started making out and she laughed once again especially with Qi Rong and thought it was hot Juan sent him flying with one hand.

She said about Juan “I’m not mad I’m just disappointed”. But she understood why he couldn’t really do anything.

Later we were discussing it, and she said “it seems everyone here is morally gray doesn’t it? Like the white guy, half smiling half crying, everyone has a good and bad side” and I’m so happy and amazed she managed to gain the meaning of it SO quickly, like you see people demonizing so many characters (like SWD for example) who have read the ENITRE BOOK and still for some reason don’t understand that’s the point? And I’m so proud she got the hang of it and literally the whole smiling and crying mask aaaaaa

She actually doesn’t hate SWD and I’m glad. While she thinks it’s understandable why he did it, she still felt bad for both He Xuan and the Shi brothers.

Is very worried about SQX like “Where is he?! Please don’t tell me he’s dead?!”

At the ghost rut once again mother was going 😳

She’s SO worried about Guzi like “he just wants his dad and Qi Rong just wants to eat him”

When the whole Lang Ying reveal happened she was once again laughing like crazy, and I’m so glad she didn’t guess it was HC. Did get worried about Lang Ying for a moment but calmed down when Juan said he was safe.

Also the translation said he was boiling something and she says “YOURE NOT SUPPOSED TO BOIL THAT TOGETHER” mom 😭 bold of you to assume XL can cook but she’s also a Latina mom so as you can see the bad cooking almost gave her a heart attack

Also she has joined me in loving QYZ, she calls him the curly haired one or the one that threw the bed, and thinks he’s SO cute and we both love him so much he’s adorable

When Heaven’s Eye came in and he mention the lip Qi she was like OH WHATS JUAN THINKING RN.

Also when XL got mad she was like “YES GO TELL THEM. OMG JUAN MUST BE FANBOYING (yes she knows the term bc of me and she used it correctly im so proud) SO MUCH RIGHT NOW”

She was sus of Ling Wen from the beginning and when she ran away she was like “Oh no she made the whole place run didn’t she? It’s going to go up in flames” and she was right.

Loved baby Juan and was like “NO HE JUST WANTS TO PROTECT XIEXIE BUT HES SO SMALL HE JUST WANTS TO BE STRONG”

STILL AFTER ALL THIS TIME doesn’t suspect Jun Wu. She suspects MQ but not him and I’m so happy cuz that’s just going to make the reveal more flabbergasting for her and she’s gonna scream lmaooo

Did not think FX was the father, she thought it was MQ and was like SO THATS WHY HES AFRAID OF WOMEN

At the puppet part she says “oh so they’re into role play huh”

She then read on her own again, they’re in mount tonglu now. We’re gonna stop at that part and then watch the audio drama so she can see the brocade immortal arc from the revised edition and then continue to read onwards! Yesterday at a family party she was talking about it to my uncle who had also seen the anime and gave it a 10/10. So it’s mom approved 👍👍👍

Cough I also just posted a new ao3 work in case y’all wanna check it out here.

Part 6

[amethyst-halo]

got thinkinf abt floyd n rosewood so i doodled them :]

[rumplereids]

research purposes.

tags: spencer reid x reader. tech analyst!reader. mentions of 50 shades of grey. bau ladies are like gossiping wine moms. fluff & crack, bcos spencer has been thru enough already. referenced/mentioned sexual acts but nothing explicit. a/n: got inspired by aj cook implying mgg was reading 50 shades + the table read of cm where mgg’s name card was “matthew 50 shades of gray gubler” masterlist. requests are open !

The team is on the jet home from a consultation in San Francisco. Everybody’s either dozing off (Emily and Derek), eating (Rossi), or doing paperwork (Hotch, as usual). JJ is scrolling on her phone, catching up on the pictures and videos Will sent of Henry when she notices something very bizarre.

“Reid, are you reading 50 Shades of Grey?”

“Huh?” he looks up from the paragraph he was reading. Something about not making love and only fucking hard. Or whatever drivel he’s suffering for you.

“I didn’t peg you the type to be reading romance or erotica.”

“It’s for research.”

JJ quirks a brow Spencer doesn’t see. His eyes already returned to the book in his hands.

“Research? For Y/N?”

“Yep,” Spencer turns a page.

JJ continues to gape at him. She wants to press for more details, but with a shake of her head, decides she was better off not knowing the intricacies of the relationship of people she considers her siblings. No matter how baffled she is by the fact that Spencer Reid is reading 50 Shades of Grey, she doubts that she’d want to dip a toe in that rabbit hole. However, she has no qualms of bringing up this certain knowledge in the near future.

Spencer was in a rush to finish his case load for the day. It’s your day off, so he’s doing anything he can so that he can go home earlier than usual. With you out for the day, he can’t even pop into your office to bug you, talk your ear off, or have an impromptu make out session. It was so sad, really.

He’s down to his last three folders when Derek attempts to get his attention.

“Pst! Pretty boy,” Morgan whisper-yells.

“Yes?”

“How’s Y/N?”

Spencer’s a bit perplexed by the question. While it’s not unusual for Derek to worry about your well-being, he finds it a bit weird for Derek to be asking such a question at that exact moment. As far as he knows, you texted Derek 15 minutes ago about mold on the street that you insist looked like the aforementioned man. That was the last time Spencer talked to you as well.

“She’s fine. Enjoying her day off.”

There’s a big grin crawling across Derek’s face. Such a look on a man like Derek Morgan spelled trouble. He looks like he knows something that Spencer doesn’t. Spencer’s starting to get cautious.

“Anything exciting happened to you guys this weekend?” Derek asks with that shit-eating, I-know-something-you-don’t-know grin.

Spencer raises a brow.

“Not much. The usual,” Spencer flips a page in his file.

Morgan hums, “Ah, yes. The usual.”

Spencer looks up at Derek, perplexed. Having no idea what in the world Morgan is trying to get to.

“Late night?” Derek continues. Spencer shuts the folder in his hands.

“Are you trying to insinuate something?”

“I don’t know, am I?”

Spencer rolls his eyes and returns his attention to his work. Completely ignoring the chuckles coming from Morgan.

A few days later, Spencer is making his second cup of coffee at the office kitchenette, bracing himself for another round of paperwork when he hears somebody rush into the room. He turns from the counter to see you, flushed and embarrassed?

“Hey, darling—”

“Why did Penelope ask me how it’s like to have my own Christian Grey?”

“What?” Spencer puts his mug down to turn his full attention on you.

“She barged into my office, asking me what kind of BDSM we’re into!” you devolve into a sort of whisper-yell, eyes shifting as to check if there were other people around. The two of you were alone in the area.

“Why would she ask that?”

“I don’t know? Something about you researching BDSM for me?”

Spencer shuts his eyes in realization, “JJ.”

“JJ? What’s she got to do with this?”

“A week ago, on the jet home from San Francisco. I was reading 50 Shades of Grey.”

You take a pause, “You read 50 Shades? I thought you said it was complete nonsense?”

“My opinion hasn’t changed on that. But I overheard you and Garcia giggling over the movie’s actor… I wanted to see what it was all about.” He tries to be nonchalant with what he’s saying. You completely melt into a puddle.

“Oh, Spence. That is the cutest and sweetest thing that has ever happened to me.”

Spencer blushes red at the comment. All these years together, and you never fail to make him feel so lovestruck and bashful.

He clears a throat, “The BDSM in the book is so atrocious. Have you read it? Or are you only interested in the movie?”

“Just the movie,” you say with a grin.

“Their lack of communication is astounding. It’s completely far off from the BDSM we’re into.”

There’s a gasp behind you. You turn to see Garcia at the entryway of the kitchenette, one mug in hand, the other hand pressed against her chest.

“Oh , I knew it. Ya’ll nasty.”

“Penelope—” you start to speak. She cuts you off.

“I didn’t believe JJ at first when she said Spencer was reading 50 Shades for research. I mean, really, Spencer Reid and BDSM? Never thought to correlate those two things ever in my life,” Penelope rambles, and then mid-thought, she turns to you, “So you do have your own Christian Grey! That’s so sexy— I don’t think that’s the right word considering it’s Reid—” this earns a snort from the man watching amused, standing against the counter, “Have you recreated any scenes from the books?”

“Penelope!” you say, aghast.

“I mean, if Spencer’s using 50 Shades to spice up your sexy times then—”

Spencer begins to laugh. You turn to face him, in disbelief that he can laugh at your mortification.

“Trust me, Penelope,” he says, “we don’t need 50 Shades to spice up our sex lives.”

“Spencer!” You can’t believe the words coming out of his mouth right now. Penelope looks as if she’s hearing the greatest gossip scandal the world has ever produced.

“50 Shades is tame compared to us.”

“What?!” a third voice enters the conversation. Emily and JJ enter the kitchenette. Emily looked a bit confused, JJ looks just about ready to shit on you too.

You hide your face in your hands, trying to hide away from Spencer’s laughter. Emily, JJ, and Penelope start to bounce comments and choice words between the three of them. You hear words such as ‘unbelievable’, ‘kinky’, and the real kicker, ‘Dr. Reid will see you now’. You want to dig yourself into a hole.

Hands grip your hips, squeezing in silent comfort. Without removing your hands from your face, you mumble, “This is all your fault.” Spencer laughs once more, hands squeezing your hips one more time before he turns to pick up his coffee mug.

He moves to leave the kitchen, turning to you with a smug look on his face before he says, “Laters, baby.”

You refuse to acknowledge the three ladies descending on you like a pack of wolves.

taglist: @i-live-in-spite @khxna

[grimmsbride]

﹡.  ֗ ۪ do you know what that’s like? hearing about your home yet never being able to reach it? yeah, i do.

JAPANESE DENIM 𝜗𝜚ྀི GRIMMSBRIDE

﹙ 🧜‍♀️ ﹚ BOY MEETS GIRL or rather, half-viltrumite that has never stepped foot onto his home planet meets siren who has never touched a body of water… crazy how common that is, huh?

﹡ | tags ◞　 ₊　 siren! reader | mark is a little ooc | love at first sight (on mark’s end) | canon differences | slight angst | mentions of the gda pushing moral boundaries | pure fluff | reader is a little soft-spoken | two lovers bonding over shared trauma <3 | friends / hidden crushes to ?? | etc.

﹡ | author’s notes ◞　 ₊　 this is just a little fluffy fic, i love sirens and i love mark even more. cecil is lowkey painted as bad (i know he’s morally gray) so i apologize for that. please excuse any and all grammar mistakes. i may write another fic with these two. | 1,974 words

When Mark Grayson first laid his eyes upon you, he wondered how one could be so perfect. As if someone, maybe God, took his time with you; each craft as meticulous as ever— leaving you, a woman with zero flaws. It was easy to tell how starstruck he was, gaze wandering from the top of your head watching the way your hair flowed down your body and enveloped your face in this pretty dark halo. Or how pinkish-bluish scales rest on your upper cheeks, shining under the light of the building you, him, and Cecil currently stood in. Lastly was your lips, parted in slight interest, taking in Mark just as heavily as he took in you.

“This is [Name].” Cecil broke the silence easily, allowing his gaze to shift to the young woman beside him for a moment before drifting back to Mark. “She’s not new to the GDA but she is new to the team. And given the two of you have that in common, it’d be nice for you to get acquainted.”

It was plain to see Invincible didn’t have much interest in what the man was saying, tuning in only for your name before tuning the rest out. With a step he brought himself closer, a few feet away as dark pools took in your form. A hand rose, faltering the moment he noticed the way your eyes snapped to it quickly. He could practically sense how tense you were, a nervous glint highlighting those pretty irises. Mark issued his best smile, a little quirk to show he truly meant no harm.

“I’m Invincible.. er— Mark, Mark Grayson. It’s nice to meet you.”

You stared at him for a long time before lifting your hand, sliding it into his own. You nodded at him slowly.

“It’s nice to meet you too.. Mark.”

From that point on only deepened the infatuation that Mark held for you. He pushed, learning more and more about you; dedicating each detail to memory, planting it on a canvas to showcase at a later date. Mark learned what you were; a siren, something the man has only ever heard of in movies. He wondered how you sounded, if the lilt of your voice was as pretty as you were. It had to be, given how much Cecil restricted you when it came to it. You had made the off comment once, stating that you simply weren’t allowed to use your voice unless the situation was especially dire.

For some reason, that fact irked him. But it didn’t compare to the absolute rage he felt when learning how you came to be. How you, a little siren was stolen from your home gifted to the GDA and trained to be some special little trump card.

“I have never even seen the ocean.” The words left you plainly, a saddened tilt lifting the speech. Scaled cheeks pressed into your knees, eyelashes fluttering low and covering those pretty eyes. “I’ve seen it in pictures, movies— but I’ve never felt it. Never smelt it. Nothing.”

Mark didn’t like the way the anger bubbled deep within him, how his hand clenched into the tightest fist as if wishing to find Cecil right then and now to give him a piece of his mind. See, Invincible was all too familiar with that feeling. Recollections of his father’s own tales of Viltrum entered his mind, some perfect place; a perfect connection to the man he aspires to be. He knew what is was like, having something so close in reach yet not even being able to so much as graze it.

So the moment a soft; “Do you know what it’s like? Hearing about your home yet never being able to reach it?”

Mark couldn’t help but immediately say, “Yeah.. I do.”

Your gazes locked, focusing on the other entirely. You looked at the man as if seeing him for the first time, truly seeing him. These past few months of growing to learn one another meant nothing to the moment now. You two quickly realized it, that hidden connection slowly rising to the surface.

With that you couldn’t help but smile — instantly melting any anger Mark felt in the process — lips moving slowly to release an affectionate; “I nearly forgot.. half alien boy.”

With this growing friendship you noticed things. How Mark could geek out about some comic dog and how he held back in fights. You also noticed how weird he’s been for the past few days. Never truly looking you in the eye, dodging hang outs— the whole nine yards. You didn’t understand most friendships, most connections, all of it was some foreign concept you were still getting used to. So you wondered if something changed in him, if the friendship was simply a grace period now ended.

Done and done, only leaving room to be teammates and nothing more.

But that thinking ended the moment you found him hovering outside of your bedroom window, all smiles and declaring he had to take you somewhere.

So here you were, wrapped up in his arms, your own settled around his neck. Your eyes shifted below the two of you, noting how far the ground was, wind blowing against your bodies as Mark flew through the air. With a lift of your head your gaze settled upon his face, noticing the serious expression splayed across his features.

“Where are we going?” You questioned softly, but loud enough the man could hear— clear in the way his head dropped a bit to glance at you. You couldn’t help the warmth enveloping your body the moment a little smile took over his previous expression, or how his fingers tightened just a bit on you.

“You’ll see.”

Your lips pursed together, deciding against pushing. You would see eventually, there was no harm in waiting. So with a little hum you pushed your face right into his chest, eyes closing and relaxing in his hold. With the wispy winds tickling your ears and the rhythmic heartbeat that belonged to Mark, you nearly could have fell asleep.

Nearly, as several minutes of you battling consciousness was soon interrupted by Mark gently shaking you. You hadn’t even realized the two of you had stopped flying, the man now grounded yet keeping you in his hold. You blinked away the blur tainting your eyes, sliding your arms from around his neck.

“We’re here.” Mark murmured, slowly helping you to your feet, an arm resting around your form to assure you were steady. With a nervous aura the man watched the way your eyes focused on the ground for a split second, how your eyebrows pushed together; clear confusion capturing your features. His eyes followed as your own rose, settling on his face, the question of your expression only deepening the moment you noticed the anxious smile he gave you.

“Mark..”

“Turn around.”

You blinked slowly, taking a step before turning your body. Your eyes widened at the view before you, the ocean as clear as day, not hidden behind some screen or some page in a book. The waves crashed into the shore, darkening the sand as an expanse of blue stretched farther than your eyes could. You stepped closer, the flow of salty sea water wafting in the air, filling your nostrils; you sucking it up before releasing it all in one shuddering breath. You stepped again, taking the fabric of the long skirt you wore, feeling the sting of your eyes; wondering if it was simply tears or the air itself.

Either way, you couldn’t help the little sound that escaped you — a mix of pure astonishment and disbelief — as you rushed forward. Mark watched as the water rose to your waist, a swell of happiness enveloping his chest. When he learned about you never seeing the ocean, it stuck with him. And while he couldn’t go to Viltrum for now, the least he could do was this.

If Cecil found out he would surely be a little mad, maybe even pissed— but that wasn’t his current concern. Seeing that smile stretch across your face was far more important.

Mark stepped closer, focusing on how you simply stood there in the water for a moment, surely taking it all in. However, his eyes widened the moment you suddenly dove under, leaving nothing but a ripple behind. His footsteps picked up speed, rushing towards the shore as his gaze danced about the water, searching for any sign of you.

Okay, now he was getting worried. Was this why you weren’t allowed near an ocean? Were you some type of special flight risk case? Had Mark been duped, blinded by puppy love?

“[Name]?….. [Name]! Where’d you go?!” The man called for you, panic clear in his speech— or more like his entire body. He pushed forward, caring less for his clothes getting soaked as he reached just a few feet ahead of the shore. Mark continued to search, eyes squinting and heart racing.

You had to be close, there was no way you got far already. Would he have to go under? How far did you go? This was definitely not the right clothes!—

The racing thoughts circling his mind came to an abrupt stop the moment something broke the surface before him, splashing his entire face in the process. With a groan Mark quickly wiped himself, and with a blurred gaze spotted you, hearing you shortly after.

A melody of giggles escaped you, body shaking with each rouse. But that wasn’t the only thing he noticed, Mark quickly spotting the way your scales had spread along the crown of your hair, arms and hands, — how your ears had shifted into sharp bluish-pink fins, creating a pretty ombré mesh to your usual skin tone. The man noticed the tail behind you.. your tail, just as pretty as you, shining against the bright sun overhead.

“You..”

Your laughter slowly died down, gaze soon focusing on how Mark looked at you. You smiled shyly, eyes dropping to the water. “Whenever my body makes contact with water I tend to shift. It’s pretty annoying when I try to shower.“

“You’re beautiful.”

You were stunned at his words, rather both of you were. A hue of red spread across his cheeks, flowing all up to his ears. He looked adorable like that, like some embarrassed puppy caught; like he himself hadn’t said what he just said. You could only smile, a flush warmth spreading throughout your entire body, a contrast to the sweet cold of the water.

You pushed closer, a hand rising to his chest, steadying yourself as you rose. You giggled softly the moment he stiffened under your touch, continuing your trek as you soon reached his cheek. With a lean you pressed your lips against the damp skin, resting there for an entire minute before pulling away.

“Thank you, Mark.” You spoke earnestly, smoothing the fabric of his shirt with wet fingers. “You didn’t have to do this..”

Mark smiled, hand rising to your wrist. You took this negatively, moving to lift your hand away but Mark wasn’t having that. With a simply slide his fingers were lacing with your own, squeezing your palms together as he stared down at you so gently.

“I wanted to. At least one of us should get a taste of home.”

The two of you chuckled at his words, simply staring at the other for a few moments before slowly drifting away; hands sliding from its grasp.

“I’ll be back in an hour. I promise.”

“And I’ll be waiting.. don’t worry, Cecil won’t find us.”

[mrssabinecallas]

Catching Up || Tim Bradford

pairing: tim bradford / formermilitary!fem!reader

in which tim runs into an old soldier he used to know in the bustling city of los angeles.

*guys i tried to hard to not use y/n or y/l/n but im sorry it had to be done :(*

cw! intended lowercase, not proofread, fluff, mentions of abuse and cheating, hints of smut of you squint towards the end :)

gif not mine, creds to owner above!

it had been 15 years since tim bradford had made his decision to retire from active duty in the army. shortly after he made that decision, he regretted it. becoming a cop? boy, was he stupid, it would never work out. now, 15 years later, he likes where he ended up. 12 years as a TO, and a bit of being a sergeant under his belt, he could’ve never predicted this is where he would be in the LAPD.

it was another day out on patrol, lucy chen sitting in the passenger seat of his shop, chattier than ever. tim just wanted the quiet, but he knows how she is. she won’t shut up for anything.

“so- anyways. we get to the restaurant, and he told me he had a reservation. turns out he lied, and the wait was over an hour. literally, the worst first date i think i’ve ever been on,” lucy rambled on, and tim added his two cents every now and then. it was a surprisingly quiet morning, very few calls coming in, and other units would attatch before he could. so, he resorted to traffic stops to try and make time go a little faster.

in this particular traffic stop, he pulled over a man for running two stop signs. when running his license, tim found out he was flagged as a suspect in a few armed robberies in the last few weeks. he decided to take a peak through the windows, seeing if he could spot anything to make the morning more interesting.

as he leaned back to hand the driver his license and registration, he saw two guns lying in the backseat floorboard. not very well hidden, he thought.

“sir, do you have a license to carry those firearms?”

“what firearms? i don’t have anything.”

“uh-huh. sure. and i’m a property brother. now, ill ask again, do you have a permit to carry the two weapons in your backseat?”

before the man responded, he looked over at lucy, standing on the passenger side, and slammed on his gas pedal. tim cursed under his breath as he took off back to the shop, and sped after the driver.

“07-adam-19, we are code 3, on road pursuit of a suspect of a few armed robberies, he is armed. gray sedan, driving 55 on melrose. requesting backup and airship.” he commands over the shop’s radio.

following the driver, he loses sight of the sedan in the traffic of lunch rush. “shit.”

“there!” lucy, quiet as she’s been all morning, pipes up and points to the vehicle turning onto a one-way road downtown.

“he’s driving against traffic on a one-way, is he trying to get killed?” tim questions, following in close pursuit.

“maybe he thinks we won’t follow him down a one way?” lucy chimes in.

before tim can manage to respond, they watch the gray sedan crash head on into a semi. glass shatters everywhere, the car seemingly crushing on impact. tim quickly parks the shop, and they run over to the accident, checking on the man inside.

“sir- sir are you alright?” lucy asked, concerned. in response, the man groans.

“well, he’s alive. let’s assess injuries and take him in.”

they pull the man out of the car, scanning for injuries, but surprisingly the man is barely hurt. lucy heads over to the semi to talk to the driver, while tim cuffs the owner of the sedan and guides him into the shop. the ride back to the station was quiet, filled with the occasional radio chatter.

“a property brother, huh?” lucy teases.

“i think i would be a hell of a property brother.”

“i mean, you look the part. you’re just to grumpy to be on tv.”

tim just sighs. as they pull back into the station, tim takes the suspect in for processing while lucy takes the guns found in the car to evidence. as tim is processing and prepping the paperwork, he sees a face he hasn’t seen in a very long time.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧��� ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

it had been 8 years since you made the decision to retire from active duty in the navy. shortly after you made that decision, you decided it was the best decision you had ever made. going back to school, getting a degree to help better the world and the people in it. not to mention your divorce. that had quite an impact on your decision.

you saw first hand the mental toll that special forces, well, military life in general had on people that decided to join. this included yourself, close to your breaking point with the physical and mental demands of special ops. you decided to use your GI bill to go back to school and get your psychology degree, trying to help those who struggled as you did.

now, 8 years later, you had been a successful therapist and mental health counselor in los angeles. it was a change of pace from the constant, bustling military life you had gotten used to, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. getting to hear all kinds of stories from all kinds of people was the highlight of your career.

a few weeks ago, you received word that the mid-wilshire police department contacted you about a new task force: criminal psychology and recovery. after some back and fourth, you had a meeting with sergeant grey and the union rep, officer nolan, set for this morning.

walking into the alive station was caffeine to your veins. it reminded you of being on-duty, reliving your life on base or on a ship. walking up to the front desk, you politely let the officer know you’re here to meet with grey.

after a few minutes, a stoic man shakes your hand and introduces himself as sergeant wade grey. formal introductions are made as he leads you back to his office, handing you a visitor pass.

“please, take a seat. officer nolan should be here any minute, can i get you anything?”

“i’m alright, thank you sergeant.”

“please, call me wade. now, i understand you were in the military? what happened there, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“of course! i was in the navy, worked special ops. after a few years, i saw and felt how taxing it was for myself and fellow sailors, so i decided to do something about it. got my degree in psychology, and started working mental health counseling.” you explained to wade, animatedly moving your hands.

“interesting. what kind of work did you do in special ops?”

before you could respond, an older man walks in. “sorry i’m late, got caught up in processing. ms y/l/n, nice to finally meet you! i’m officer john nolan, and im looking forward to what you have in mind for this new project.”

the three of you go back and fourth for roughly an hour, talking specifics of the program and nailing down a solid plan. you jot down notes on your phone, and before you know it, you’re set to head an LAPD task force in two weeks.

standing, you shake sergeant grey and officer nolan’s hands, as they begin to walk you out. from behind, you hear a somewhat familiar voice ring out.

“y/l/n?”

you turn, facing the sound.

“bradford?”

you’re both shocked to see each other, standing in silence for just a moment before he approaches you for a hug.

“it’s been a while! since when were you in LA?” he questioned, a small smile shining through his grumpy work persona.

“a few years now, actually! started mental health counseling around here about four years ago,” you explained, while nolan and grey just look at each other and back to you and bradford.

“wait, bradford you know ms. y/l/n?” john questions, trying and failing to piece it together without an explaination.

“yeah. we, uh, worked a few operations together back in my army days. this girl is hell of a leader, i’ll tell you that. she led an ops team of army, navy, and marines into a huge crack in enemy territory. gave us the upper hand in a ton of future fights.” tim compliments, focusing on you.

“oh please, i led my people, you led yours. don’t give me all the credit bradford.” you laugh. you forgot how easy it was to be around him and banter.

“yeah yeah. well, i do have to head back, gotta process this S.O.B. so we can hit the streets again. hey, why don’t we catch up? grab drinks, on me?”

“sounds like a plan, what time do you get off?”

“8:00.” you open your phone calendar to add “drinks with tim” into the 8:00 spot, and slide the device back into your pocket.

“well as lovely as this has been, i have a lot of work to do, yknow, setting up a new program and all. officer nolan, sergeant grey, lovely to meet both of you, and ill stay in contact. tim, ill see you tonight!” you wave as you walk away.

the rest of the day seems to fly, contacting some of your colleagues to aid you in this new project. tim seems to feel the same, arresting a few people and filling out paperwork. by the time 8 pm rolls around, you find yourself texting tim.

Tim

———

-hey, where we headed for drinks?

there’s a bar down the street from the station, meet me there? -

-perfect, i’ll be there in 10 :)

you smile and shift your car into drive, enjoying the peaceful california evening. after a few minutes, you push open the door to a small bar called “the hard road bar.” glancing around, you spot tim in a booth against the wall.

sliding yourself into the seat across from him, you exchange your hellos, as a waitress comes up to ask for your drink orders. tim gets a whiskey neat and you order two shots of tequila.

“so, mental health counseling, huh?” tim questions as the waitress walks away.

“yeah! special ops is draining, and i saw how bad it affected people. so i wanted to help.” you give him the brief explanation, and bounce a question back onto him. “how’s police work going? last time we talked was, what, 9 years ago? you were barely touching the surface of your job now.”

“it’s good! i enjoy it. keeps me busy, i get to protect people, and teach the next generation of officers. it’s hard a lot of days, but seeing that people are being helped and trouble is taken off the streets makes it worth it. oh! how’s shawn?” he ricochets back.

you pause. you weren’t expecting him to ask about your ex-husband. tim seems to notice your hesitation. “you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to-“

“-no! no, it’s okay. uh, shawn and i got a divorce 8 years ago. part of the reason i retired, i needed to get the hell away from him.”

“woah, what’s the story there?” he questions, as the waitress sets down your drinks, and he picks up his glass.

“to make an overwhelmingly long story short, shawn cheated, i found out and filed for divorce. he did not make the process easy, but a few bruises and court dates later, i’m free.” you pick up one of the shot glasses, throwing it back as the liquor burns your chest.

“damn, he cheated? on you? and- what do you mean bruises?” he questions as he lifts his glass to his lips.

“well… when i found out he was cheating, he tried to manipulate me into staying. when that didn’t work, he resorted to… violence. but it’s fine now. he’s in prison for domestic assault charges, and i have his money. so it’s great!”

tim laughs at your last statement, but his expression softens into one of concern. “are you alright, though? i never knew he was the kind of guy to do something like that.”

“yeah, i’m good. whenever he gets out, my lawyer already has the restraining order ready to go. so he won’t be an issue. oh! how’s isabel?”

“ah- my turn for the awkward long story short. we got divorced a few years ago too. she started using and got hooked, i lost contact with her for two years before i could get her into rehab. i broke it off from there,” tim explained, waving his free hand around gently and holding eye contact.

“oh! yknow, out of all things, i never expected that. well, cheers to us being in the same boat, yeah?” you hold up your other shot towards him, and he clinks his glass against yours. as the night drawls on, more drinks and added to the tab, and eventually you both decide to call it quits. drunkenly, but still, call it a night.

as you’re walking next to tim out to your cars, you check your phone and read “1:27 am. damn. that was a lot more time than i thought,” you hiccuped, and looked back up at tim’s face. has he always been that attractive?

“yea’, it definitely was. we sh’uld do ‘t again sometime.” tim’s words slurred, as he leaned closer to you to pull you into a hug.

you leaned into him, and relaxed into his body heat. he smelled nice, like fresh rain and forest. you let your melt under his touch, and you just want to stay there forever.

tim eventually pulls away, but keeps a firm hold on your shoulders. you look up at him, wondering where these sudden thoughts are coming from. he makes eye contact, and his lips part slightly. your eyes snap to this small movement, and you can’t help but wonder how nice of a kisser he would be.

he notices the shifting of your eyes, and before he knows it, his lips are on yours, eyes closed, breathing in your presence. your floral perfume, the fabric of your blouse, the hand he feels caress his face. he wants more of it. he slides his hands from your shoulders to your lower back, and lightly pull you closer.

he suddenly pulls away, panting slightly, and looks back over at his truck. “yknow what, fuck it. wanna keep this going?”

“you know i do, bradford. you know i do.”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

ahh!! i wrote this at 3 am bc i love tim bradford and i need this thought out of my head.

yes, i did do army navy for a reason, go navy, beat army, hooyah, bite me! i had to squeeze it in there!!

let me know if y’all want a part 2!!! i’m more than happy to oblige ;)

[mouthfullofmunson]

After work

Summary: Eddie has another late night at work and needs to unwind. Some cute domestic fluffiness with lots of smut ❤️‍🔥

The apartment is dark with a light flown from the television static that’s been on for the past hour and a half.

The door finally cracks open after being sealed shut all day, the hinges hissing almost like they are relieved to finally stretch. The smack of boots on the floor introduced a new sound in the apartment other than static rolling and stove burners hissing from pasta boiling over. “Hey,” Eddie half whispers, his body achy and sore from being bent over tattooing all day.

“Hi baby.” Y/n gives a sleepy smile to her boyfriend. No matter how many times he’s told her not to wait up on late nights she always does anyways. “Dinner is done.” He gives her a small smile, tucking his boots under the little bench at the entrance before rubbing the kinks out of his neck. “Sounds perfect, thank you sweetheart.” He creeps over to Y/n, wrapping his arms around her waist and sitting his head on her shoulder. He inhales her scent, appreciating the soft power smell coming from her skin. She smells like home.

“TV is out again.” She mentions while rubbing his back. He nods, letting out a sigh before pulling away from her. “I’m going to shower, I’ll be back.” He slaps the top of the television as he walks back to their shower, a random film coming on and filling the room with a better background noise than what was previously on. “I’ll be here.” She softly calls from the kitchen, waiting to hear the water fall from the shower head.

Fifteen minutes later Eddie walks into the room, a gray towel wrapped around his waist as his long hair drips down onto the floor. “How was your shower?” He wraps his arms around her waist from behind, his skin still warm from the undoubtedly scalding hot shower water. “Relaxing.” He presses a kiss to the skin of her neck, trailing them down her arm while she tries to fold clothes.

“Yeah?” He nods, threading his fingers with hers as he pulls her around to his front. He gives a quick nod before pressing his lips to hers. He basks in the sweet warmth of her mouth on his, how delicately she kisses him like he might just break. Eddie can't help but softly laugh in her mouth at the thought. “What?” he pulls back with a tiny smirk on his face. “Nothing, sweetheart.” his hands fall to her hips where her shirt ends, his thumbs pushing it up.

“What about dinner?” Y/n asks, her arms wrapping around his neck.

“My dinner is right here” he softly jokes, pulling her shirt over her head to reveal her soft bare skin under it. The smile doesn’t leave his face, his cold hand coming to her warm breasts, his thumbs rubbing against the sensitive buds. “My pretty girl, huh? You’re so gorgeous.” Y/n’s cheeks heat up, avoiding eye contact. No matter how long they’ve been together she never gets less shy; his words always have the same effect on her.

He leads her closer to the bed, dropping his towel and laying back on the bed before he pats his thighs.

They softly laugh as they both struggle to pull down her panties, hushed whispers about how it would’ve been smarter to do it before they got on the bed.

Y/n straddles his waist, her heat hovering above him. Eddie’s hand slips down, checking if she’s wet before he slides his fingers inside of her carefully, softly grinding his palm into her clit. He watches her face, paying attention to how she reacts, her breath hitching, her chests rapidly rising and falling, her eyes blinking hard to try to stay open. He pulls his fingers out of her, sliding them into his mouth to taste her. “Tastes sweeter than ever, baby.” His hand comes back up, brushing her cheek before his thumb softly pulls at her bottom lip.

“Why don’t you put me inside? I know you want it.” She works slowly, her hand wrapping around his pink cock and pumping him a few times before lining him up and sinking down onto his big cock.

She whimpers, her mouth falling open at the feeling of him throbbing inside of her. “Fuck, sweetheart. You know how to ride me so well.” His thumb rubs her clit, making her shudder. She bounces on his cock, clenching around her. He sits up, filling her even more while making her gasp, a sob of pleasure leaving her lips. Y/n grips at his shoulder, using Eddie to balance herself. He slides his tongue inside her mouth, their tongue dancing together, Eddie swallowing down all of her moans.

“Youre so fucking wet. I can feel you dripping down me, pretty girl.” He laughs into her mouth, thrusting up into her to get her to moan his name again. His kisses fall to her chest, pressing them randomly until he gets to her nipples. His tongue teases the sensitive skin, teeth softly grazing the buds then slipping one into his mouth. He sucks at her nipple while his hand is still occupied on her clit.

“Eddie” her voice shakes, breathless as his dick hits her g-spot over and over again. “I know” he smiles, just as out of breath as she is.

His head falls back, groaning at the feeling as she picks up pace. “Keep going, sweetheart. I want to fill you up. You know just what to do, fuck.”

She grabs his arm tighter, squelching filling the rooms as she sloppily fucks him.”I’m getting close, Eddie.” she chants a mantra of his name the closer she gets.

They both moan out each other's names, Eddie's hot cum filling her pussy up. Once they calm down he gently pulls himself out of her, letting her flop back on her side of the bed.

Eddie looks over at her, a matching sleepy smile painted on both of their faces. “I love you.” Y/n kisses his hand that pushes her hair out of her face. “I love you too, Ed”

He groans like an old man as he lifts up from his spot, hovering from his spot before he sinks between her legs, admiring his milky cum that leaks from her pretty cunt. “I'll clean you up then it's lights out for me.” he swings her thighs over his shoulders, getting to work.

Sorry about the crappy ending :( I’m excited to get something out again tho! I’m actively working on other things as well and constantly have stuff In my drafts that I add onto all the time so expect that stuff too! Let me know your thoughts!!

:)

[bloodmoonmuses]

stray cats, cold spaghetti | mark lee

genre: mark lee x reader, meet cute, friends to lovers (this is unedited, so forgive any typos! happy valentine's day!)

warnings: mentions of food!

summary: your cat introduces you to your new friend, mark. he's a bit more similar to an actual cat than you initially realized.

You didn’t understand the attachment people had to their pets until this stupid cat showed up. She was a stray, with mangled fur and callous eyes, who popped up some months ago. You had checked for any postings about missing pets, and even asked a few of your neighbors, but no one claimed the ratty thing. It’s not that you disliked animals entirely- you’re not a sociopath. You just aired more on the side of nonchalance. 

The cat could sense this, ever since the first time you two crossed paths. You remember that night so vividly. You couldn’t sleep. You laid on your couch, staring at the ceiling, hoping slumber would whisk you away sooner than later. Just as your eyes began to flutter shut, you heard whining. Visceral, pained whining. At first, you tried to ignore it, but when you heard a sound that suspiciously sounded like a young child, you figured it’d be better to survey the situation just in case. When you opened your door to a begging cat, you sighed. Damn the neighbors for feeding this thing. Now she thinks she owns the place. 

“I bet you’re hungry, huh.” The cat bore into you with bright green eyes, tilting its head as if to say, “Duh!”

So you re-entered your home, Googled “What human food can cats eat?”, and came back with canned tuna and half a carrot. The brat looked right past the carrot and inhaled the tuna, this being its first real meal of the day. In between scarfing down food, the gray cat looked at you inquisitively. “Any more where that came from?” her eyes said. She sidled up next to your leg, purring and rubbing her head against it. 

“That’s all I got,” you had confessed. 

You named her June, since that’s the month she came into your life. Now, you’re best friends. June is actually pretty chill. She likes watching movies with you and, strangely, likes going on walks. After getting her groomed, she’s kinda cute too. You hated to admit it, but you love June. You imagine this is how people felt about their kids- without the initial reluctance of course. June comes and goes as she pleases as if she’s still a stray, but always comes back by dinner time. 

When June isn’t back at her usual time one day in October, you get a bit nervous. She never does this. Before breaking out into a full out panic, you remember she’s got a collar and a tracker from the vet now. No biggie. Opening the app that’s connected to June’s tracker, you meander down the path you usually walk with her when it’s warmer out. When you’re a few blocks from your place, you see her, relief flooding your system. Then you realize there’s a man petting her.

“Junie! June!” You run up to her, taking her into your arms. You snuggle her into a tight embrace, planting a kiss on her head. You’re so caught up in your reunion with June that you forget about the stranger standing in front of you. Oh yeah. You should probably say something. His hair is somewhere in between auburn and brown, making his face look incredibly warm. You hold June a bit tighter.

“Cute cat,” the stranger says. His voice is a bit hoarse. “Thought she was a stray before I saw the collar.” Um, okay? June’s a little rough around the edges, but she’s clearly cared for. 

“Yeah, she’s mine. Do you, like, follow strays around in your free time?” you ask with a bite to your tone. 

“Do you let your pet wander around like a stray in your free time?” Fair, you think, but still rude.

“She’s a free spirit,” you contest. 

“So you let her wander.” 

“This is the first time she hasn’t come home for dinner. Our relationship is built mostly on my ability to provide her food- which works for me.” You’re not sure why you’re explaining your relationship with your cat. Who cares what this guy thinks?

June jumps out of your arms, back to the ground, and walks up to the stranger’s legs. He bends down to resume petting her. From his crouched stance, he looks into your eyes. The eye contact makes you shiver.  

“She’s sweet,” he says. “What’s her name?” 

“June. She’s a charmer- and incredibly manipulative. She probably thought she could swindle you out of some food.”

“Do I look easy to take advantage of?” He asks.

You assess him. Oversized hoodie, baggy pants, sneakers covered in scuffs... Maybe he’s a dancer. Or skateboards. You’d be into that, you think. Skater boys weren’t really your thing, but they could be- as long as it’s him. If anything, the guy just looks… cozy, all bundled up like this. There’s a tinge of red on the tip of his nose from the nippy air. He’s smirking to himself at his (flirtatious) question, making his cheek look plump. You want to pinch it. 

You want to make him as warm as his eyes make you feel. 

You realize you’ve probably been staring. Geez, what was his question? Oh yeah. “Yeah. Like a pushover,” you say. “In the best way, of course.”

“Ouch.”

“Only a real sap would fall victim to June’s powers. She can sense lackeys. No offense.” 

“I’m gonna choose to believe that means you think I’m a nice guy.”

“Nice enough.”

“I’ll take it.” The two of you stand in awkward silence for a few moments, June having finally grown bored of her new friend. The guy stands from his crouching position and sways a bit as he awaits your next move.

“Well, like I said, this little lady was late for dinner. So if it’s okay with you,” you pick up June, then continue your thought, “We’ll be heading out.” 

As you turn to walk back home, the stranger says, “I… didn’t catch your name, by the way.” 

Right. You introduced June, but not yourself. Go figure. “Oh. I’m ___.” 

“Cool. I’m Mark.” He looks like a ‘Mark’-boyish and chipper.

“Nice to meet you, Mark. Well, have a nice night.” You start to walk again, but Mark interjects yet again.

“The sun’s setting,” he blurts it out like he’s trying to rid his mouth of the words as quickly as possible. “Can I walk you home?” Then he amends, “I live nearby, so I know it gets kinda dark in this neighborhood. Not many street lights.”

You think about it. You’re not getting any serial killer vibes, plus he’s already passed the June test. (And if you're being honest, he's very cute.) “Um, sure. Thanks.”

The two of you walk in silence, save for June’s purring. When you make it to your apartment building, you stop. Your gut is twisting, mind fixating on the warmth radiating off Mark’s body. Your fingertips are whirring with electricity. You have a bad idea. 

“Would you maybe… wanna come in for dinner?” Mark turns to look at you.  “I never really learned how to cook for one person, so I always have a bunch of leftovers.” 

It’s a lie, but not entirely. You like to cook enough food for the entire week. Mark doesn't need to know this, you conclude.

Mark nods to himself. “Uh, sure. I could eat.”

As soon as you place June down in your apartment, she sprints to her food bowl. Silly girl. 

“Sorry about the mess. Wasn’t expecting company,” you say. “I hope you like spaghetti.”

“Love it,” Mark responds. (You’d later find out this was a lie.)

“Perfect.”

That’s how you and Mark became friends- similarly to how June came into your life. You fed him. In all honesty, he wasn’t that fond of your spaghetti. He just liked the way you smiled each time he took a bite. The two of you continued to get to know one another while making food. Neither of you are great cooks, so you usually team up. It’s become a love language of sorts, sending recipes back and forth to try. You look forward to eating with Mark more than anything these days.

You’re more than aware of your underlying feelings for Mark, but you’ve managed to temper them. You don’t want to scare him off, but the tension is relentless. You’re making tiramisu and your shoulders touch. You’re piping flowers on a cupcake while Mark pulls tendrils of hair away from your face. You’re whisking meringue into stiff peaks while Mark hums to June in the living room. It’s heart achingly domestic. 

Oftentimes you imagine Mark as your husband. In your daydreams the two of you are wearing matching aprons, flour dusting his nose. He kisses you, a fit of giggles attacking your system. You’re absolutely smitten and unabashedly so.

 In reality, today is Valentine’s Day. Mark suggests he comes over and makes pizza. You don’t think Mark realizes what day it is until you suggest making your pizzas heart shaped. He says he forgot to buy his friend Jaehyun a birthday gift.

“This is, like, kinda romantic.” If being covered in pizza sauce and flour is romantic, then yes. This was very romantic. You have a nice spread here-  fresh basil, mozzarella, alfredo sauce, vodka sauce, roma tomatoes… It smells so nice. Mark keeps sneaking chunks of cheese into his mouth. He looks like a little mouse. June is fast asleep on the couch. You’ve finally perfected the heart shape of your dough, and begin to spread alfredo sauce on your pizza. 

“Your parameters for romance are very strange, Mark Lee.”

“If you close your eyes, it’s like we’re in Italy.” When he says things like this, they only fuel your daydreams. You blame the flush of your face on the preheating oven.

“Venice, I hope.”

“Of course.”

Mark’s pizza looks more like an anatomical heart than the kind you’d doodle in a notebook. He scoffs when you tell him this, feigning offense.

“Should I remind you of how your cinnamon rolls came out a few weeks ago?” They were awful. At a certain point, you had given up and rolled them into balls. 

“My cinnamon rolls/balls were innovative and transcendent.” 

“I don’t even know how you messed them up,” Mark says as he puts the pizzas in the oven, “We bought pre-made dough.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

When the pizzas are done baking, the two of you sit at the dinner table. It’s a different feel for the two of you, seeing as you usually eat together on the couch.  You take a bite of your pizza, savoring the taste.

“Not bad. Wanna taste?” Mark nods. Instinctively, the two of you swap plates, trying each others’ creations.

“I think you’re better at making savory foods.”

“I agree.”

You and Mark continue to eat your pizzas, taking gulps of your respective drinks in between bites. Beer for Mark, white wine for you. Jazz plays softly from your shitty phone speaker, and June’s snores fill in the gaps of silence. After a bit, Mark’s face goes red from the alcohol. You liked seeing him tipsy. He gets all wavy and fluid, unconsciously swaying side to side like a daisy in the wind. Your face feels fuzzy from the wine and you find yourself biting your tongue. 

You’ve had to be more conscious of your alcohol intake around Mark lately. It felt as if at any moment, your love for him would simply become unbearable. Recently, it’s been hard to just look at him- even while sober. Tonight, apparently, you threw caution to the wind. 

“Mark?” you say.

“Hmm….”  He’s drifting away, lethargic from the food and beer. You repeat his name again, this time getting his full attention. When his glassy eyes meet yours, the force behind them knocks the wind out of you.

“Yes?” says Mark. He takes another sip of beer. 

You can’t do this, you think, backtracking entirely. The lie escapes as a garbled mess of words: “Forgot what I was gonna say.” You take a nervous gulp of your wine.

Mark slams his fist on the table, in a drunken stupor. The sound startles you, but there’s no malice behind his motion. In fact, he’s laughing to himself. “Bullshit.”

“I really did lose my train of thought. Maybe it’ll come back to me.”

“I know you’re lying. Like you lied about that cold ass spaghetti you used to lure me in!” he says, referencing the night you met. The spaghetti wasn’t that cold…

“I really did make too much spaghetti that night! Plus, you kept June safe. It was the least I could do!” 

Mark begins to gather your plates and cups, walking over to the kitchen to place them in the sink. As he stands, he says, “I won’t force you to say it, but I know you’re lying.” 

Then he moves to run the faucet. The rushing water fills the silence like TV static, buzzing and itching in your ears. Your throat is burning. You want to talk to him openly, honestly- but something’s stopping you. Mark washes the dishes wordlessly. With his back turned to you, his words hang heavy in the air. Mark never pries but simultaneously knows you so intimately. You love being known by him. You love knowing him. 

You simply love him.

“Why’d you walk me home that night?” Your voice barely pierces the air. The question practically squeaks out of you.

“What?” Mark turns off the facet and dries his hands on a towel, turning to look at you.

“The night we met. Why’d you walk me home?”

He contemplates the question for a moment, closing his eyes to visualize the night. Then he says, “Wanted to make sure you got home safely.” 

The moment is delicate and fragile. You’re scared that if not nimble enough, if not cradled with the utmost gentleness, it will shatter. You proceed with caution.

“Mark?” At the sound of his name, Mark returns to his seat at the dining table.

“I think… I love you.” Mark chuckles. “Don’t laugh!”

“You think?” he says, now breaking out into a full-bodied laugh.

“Yeah. I think so.” 

“I love you too.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “...I think.”

“Very funny, asshole.” 

Mark reaches over the table and places a chaste kiss upon your lips. “Okay, I think I’m a little more sure now,” he says.

“Need some more reassurance?” you ask. Mark nods. 

You lean in to kiss him this time, and just before your lips touch, you hear whining. You pull back to look down, seeing June curled up beneath your chair. Her timing is always impeccable. The two of you giggle, sealing the moment with a fervent kiss. You melt into his touch, the elation coursing through your veins. When you come up for air, you meet Mark’s eyes.  

“What?” he says. “I’m a better kisser than you thought?” 

“I was just wondering… you’re still gonna wash the dishes, right?”

[castawaycat]

Ghosted: Chapter 3

Summary: Natasha visits Y/N’s cozy, artistic apartment, where she’s warmly welcomed by their loyal cat, Charlie. Moved by the safe, comforting space Y/N has created, Natasha begins to reflect on her own empty, impersonal apartment. Later, Y/N visits Avengers Tower, overwhelmed by its cold, sterile atmosphere. Seeing Natasha’s lonely living space firsthand, Y/N encourages her to believe she deserves a home that feels warm and safe too. Their bond deepens with this shared vulnerability.

(Natasha’s POV)

Natasha adjusted the strap of her leather jacket as she stood in front of Y/N’s apartment door. She wasn’t exactly nervous—no, Black Widow didn’t get nervous—but something about this felt... different.

Maybe it was because this wasn’t a mission. There was no enemy to interrogate or intel to gather. No hidden exit strategy prepared in the back of her mind. This was personal.

And she couldn’t remember the last time she’d done personal without screwing it up.

She exhaled softly and knocked on the door before she could second-guess herself.

A few moments passed before she heard the soft scuffle of feet on the other side, followed by the sound of locks clicking open—two, then a chain being slid aside.

The door creaked open to reveal Y/N, bundled in an oversized sweatshirt that looked several sizes too big but impossibly soft. Their expression lit up immediately at the sight of her, and something in Natasha’s chest eased.

“You made it,” Y/N said, stepping aside to let her in.

“Of course I did,” Natasha replied, allowing herself a small smile as she crossed the threshold. “Would’ve been rude to turn down the first friend I’ve made in… well, let’s just say a long time.”

The warmth of Y/N’s apartment hit her instantly. Not just the literal warmth—though the heater hummed steadily in the background—but the atmosphere.

The space was small but cozy, with an undeniable sense of life. The walls were adorned with art—some framed, others simply pinned or taped up in a beautiful kind of organized chaos. Sketches, watercolor landscapes, abstract bursts of color, and carefully drawn character designs lined every available surface. There were shelves filled with books organized by color, rows of tiny potted plants thriving under grow lights, and strings of fairy lights casting a soft, golden glow.

It was the kind of home Natasha had never known growing up. Lived-in. Loved.

“Wow,” Natasha murmured as she took it all in. “This is… you weren’t kidding when you said you were into art.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed slightly, and they tucked their hands into their sleeves. “It’s kind of my safe space,” they admitted. “Helps me when things get overwhelming.”

Natasha nodded, her gaze tracing over the dozens of small details that made the space feel like a living, breathing part of Y/N’s world.

And then—just as she was about to ask a question—a small, soft mrow sounded from somewhere near the couch.

She turned her head just in time to see a fluffy gray-and-white cat cautiously approach, tail held high but eyes wide with curiosity.

“Ah. And this must be the famous loyal companion you mentioned.” Natasha crouched slowly, keeping her movements calm and deliberate. “What’s their name?”

“Charlie,” Y/N said with a fond smile, kneeling beside Natasha. “He’s usually a little shy around new people, but… well, he knows when someone’s important.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Important, huh?” She held out her hand, palm open and low to the ground. Charlie crept forward cautiously, giving her fingers a few tentative sniffs before—much to Y/N’s surprise—he leaned in and headbutted Natasha’s hand.

“Oh, wow. He never does that this quickly.”

Natasha chuckled, gently scratching behind the cat’s ears. “Guess we’ve got something in common. We’re both good at sensing who’s worth our time.”

Charlie gave a satisfied purr and promptly climbed into Natasha’s lap as if he’d decided she belonged to him now.

Y/N looked at the sight with wide eyes, then started laughing softly. “I think you’ve just been adopted.”

Natasha ran her fingers through the soft fur, the repetitive motion strangely calming. “I’ve had worse missions,” she teased, glancing up at Y/N with a small, genuine smile.

They sat there for a while—Natasha cross-legged on the floor with a happily purring Charlie settled in her lap, and Y/N sitting nearby, their eyes soft with something almost like relief.

“Can I ask you something?” Natasha said after a moment, her fingers idly tracing circles along the cat’s back.

Y/N nodded.

“Why this place?” she asked, glancing around again. “Most people just decorate to make it look good. But this…” She gestured toward the warm lights, the carefully curated shelves of books and art supplies, the soft textures of blankets and cushions. “This feels like it’s for something.”

Y/N smiled faintly, pulling their knees up to their chest. “It’s for me,” they admitted. “For the days when I can’t leave. When everything outside feels too loud, and my head won’t stop buzzing. It’s… it’s my safe place. Everything in here makes sense to me, even when nothing else does.”

Natasha felt something heavy settle low in her chest.

She didn’t have a place like that. Not really. Her apartment was neat, minimal, efficient. But it didn’t feel.

“This is the first time I’ve ever really wanted to stay somewhere,” Y/N continued, their voice soft but steady. “For the longest time, I thought I’d never have a space that felt like home. But I built this. Little by little. For me.”

Natasha swallowed hard, suddenly overwhelmed by how alien that concept was to her.

A space that was purely for comfort. For safety.

She glanced down at Charlie, still purring contentedly in her lap.

And for the first time in a very long time, she thought that maybe… she’d like to have something like this too.

—---------------------------------------------------------------

( Reader’s POV)

It had been a few days since Natasha visited your apartment, and the memory of that night still warmed you in quiet moments. You caught yourself smiling every time you saw the spot on the couch where she’d sat, Charlie curled contentedly in her lap as if he’d known her forever.

So when Natasha texted you—Want a tour of my world?—you weren’t entirely sure if your racing heart was excitement or anxiety. Probably both.

Now, standing in the towering lobby of Avengers Tower, you were certain it was both.

You hugged your arms tightly across your chest, the towering glass walls and sleek steel beams making you feel small and exposed. Everything here was polished to perfection—cold marble floors, sharp architectural lines, and minimalist decor that seemed almost sterile.

It was the complete opposite of your cozy, chaotic little apartment.

Before your mind could spiral too far down that path, you heard familiar footsteps behind you.

“Hey,” Natasha called gently, her voice cutting through the ambient hum of the lobby.

You turned to find her walking toward you, dressed in casual jeans and a leather jacket, her red hair pulled back into a loose braid. She looked softer out of her tactical gear, but the confident way she moved still made it feel like she owned every space she stepped into.

“Ready for the grand tour?” she asked, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

You nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart hammered painfully in your chest. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

She led you through security—an experience that made you hyper-aware of every movement, every sound. The low hum of electronic scanners, the quiet murmur of guards communicating through headsets—it all pressed against your senses like an approaching storm.

But Natasha noticed.

She slowed her pace, kept a careful distance, and every few minutes she glanced back at you to check in. She didn’t need to say anything; it was all there in her eyes.

I’ve got you. You’re safe.

By the time you reached the private levels of the tower, the chaos of the main floors faded behind thick security doors. Natasha guided you into the elevator and pressed her palm against a biometric scanner.

The doors closed, and for the first time since you arrived, the oppressive weight of the building lifted just a little.

“Not as bad as you thought?” Natasha asked gently, her shoulder leaning against the wall of the elevator.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “Still kind of feels like I walked onto the set of a futuristic movie,” you admitted with a faint smile.

Natasha chuckled. “That’s about right. But I promise the best part is the view.”

The elevator chimed softly before opening to reveal a floor with massive floor-to-ceiling windows. The city stretched out before you, glittering under the afternoon sun.

You walked slowly toward the glass, your fingers curling against your palms to keep from reaching out to touch it.

“Wow…” you whispered.

Natasha stood beside you, arms crossed loosely over her chest as she looked out at the city she’d dedicated her life to protecting.

“This is my favorite spot,” she admitted. “When it gets too loud… I come here.”

You glanced at her, surprised. “Even here? With all this space?”

She nodded, her lips pulling into a small, tired smile. “Doesn’t matter how big the place is. Sometimes it’s loud even when it’s quiet.”

You understood that all too well.

The tour continued after that—Natasha showing you the training rooms, the tech labs (where she made you swear not to let Tony talk you into trying any “experimental devices”), and even the rooftop landing pad where the Quinjet usually rested.

But the part that stuck with you most wasn’t any of the impressive technology or stunning views.

It was when she hesitated in front of one last door.

“My apartment’s just down this hall,” she said, her voice lower now. “I, uh… figured I’d show you. But just… fair warning—it’s not much.”

You followed her down the hallway, noting how the walls here were blank. No photos. No personal touches.

She unlocked the door and pushed it open, stepping aside to let you in first.

And instantly, you felt the difference.

The space was clean—too clean. Sparsely furnished. Functional. There was a couch that looked barely used, a bookshelf with only a handful of items on it, and a small kitchen area with spotless counters.

No art. No plants. No cozy throw blankets or cluttered corners filled with things that brought comfort.

It felt like a place someone stayed out of necessity, not because they wanted to.

Your heart ached quietly in your chest.

“This is…” you began carefully, not wanting to offend.

“Empty?” Natasha finished for you, her voice flat but not defensive.

You nodded, chewing on your bottom lip. “A little.”

She leaned against the doorframe, her eyes distant as she looked over the space.

“I guess I never really thought about making it feel like home,” she admitted. “Didn’t think I deserved something like that. And when you’ve spent your life living out of duffel bags and safe houses, it just… doesn’t feel important.”

You turned to her, your voice soft but sure. “You do deserve that. A space that’s yours. One that feels safe and warm.”

She met your gaze, something raw and vulnerable flickering behind her usually unreadable expression.

“Maybe you could help me figure out how,” she said quietly.

The vulnerability in her voice shook you more than anything else had that day.

You smiled gently. “I’d like that,” you whispered. “I think Charlie would too.”

And for the first time, you saw it—that tiny, flickering light in her eyes that hinted at hope.

It wasn’t a lot.

But it was a start.

[roshellow29]

Idk why but I feel the need to rant about trolls band together so here's a warning for SPOILERS.

TL;DR I'll be talking shit about major conflict parts in the movie that I wished were handled differently >:((((

Please take caution (and a deep breath) reading this because I'm very bad at making sense when I ramble ok? Ok les go

OK SO.

The movie was great, loved the songs and I enjoyed branches family shenanigans, including supportive girlfriend poppy I've been WAITING FOR THIS (ifykyk)

But here are some things that bothered me that they could've definitely done differently

1. JOHN DORYS ENTIRE CHARACTER ARC- jd is great. He's actually my favorite! He's a cringefail boyfailiure and I love him for it. In the movie, his whole thing was that he was basically an ass who didn't listen to his siblings and always pressured and bossed them around. Cool, that's established. What's not is, Why??? It's really the whole "perfect family harmony" thing I guess.

Because later in the conflict he says that it was "hard being responsible for four younger siblings" (which bitch me too were litteraly the same) and that all they needed to be was perfect. what I don't understand is why? Why the whole perfect harmony? Where did it come from? They didn't say it was a big thing or that other bands did it? Would it get them more fame? Would it mean that they're perceived as the perfect brothers or something?? Also, why wasn't the grandmother more involved with the kids?? Did she pressure him to care for his siblings because their parents weren't involved or something? That's just one thing that's not really explained to me ig 🤔

And the whole thing that bothers me with jd is that he doesn't do the cliché "branch I'm sorry I was an asshole brother, and I wanna be a better troll to you and our bros. And blah blah blah" like they skip that entire potential jd apology??? I was expecting that with a hug?? I WANTED A HUG WITH BRANCH AND JD OK. He genuinely cares about him!!! You can see it, he really does. He's just bad at communicating. Like extremely - so they skipped that and just made him go, "We'll follow ur lead branch," and that's it.😐 no apology. No proper character development. Just him going "ok yeah I'll follow u one time." LIKE HUH. (This also includes the other siblings cuz they dipped on branch the same, and none of them said sorry!!)

OH and another thing. WHY WERE CLAY AND BRUCE SUCH ASSHOLES TO JD. ESPECIALLY CLAY. like I completely get it, he was an asshole, he pressured and bossed you around, we know that. But that was 20 PLUS YEARS AGO??? Like no you don't have to hug him but damn why r yall so cold???

I'm thinking that because I'm p sure they went no contact at all after they broke up. So how r they so sure he's still the way he was before?? (I mean they were kinda right but still) like you could've been super happy and then get disappointed later when trying to practice hitting the note. It would've made more sense to me idk. Like it just bothers me that they straight up ignore him- it's mean! (But I can't be too mad I mean they all have their reasons ig 🙄)

While we're on the topic of the family, on to my next point.

2. ROSIEPUFF AND HER DEATH. I think it was handled HORRIBLY. Like the whole movie I was just like "plz don't skip over it plz don't skip over it." And then branch drops the bomb on them right (which still caught me off guard like damn) and THEYRE DUMBFOUNDED, GREAT. And then after that there's NOTHING. NOTHING!?!??!?!?!? they don't mention it they don't apologize to branch for what he went through they don't take two seconds to mourn her they're just like "wait she dead?" And then fucking move on like. Why???? they don't question how, they don't question when branch was living in solidarity for 20 years, nothing. and I'm mad as fuck because that was part of Branches entire CHARACTER ARC in the first movie!! They don't mention he was gray they don't mention he didn't sing they don't mention anything. He went through that for 20 YEARS, ALONE. and they don't mention it. I rlly hated that- like they rlly didn't care.

Anyway.

Third smaller topic that I thought was gonna happen

3. I thought clay was gonna end up going, "actually yknow what, I AM fun" and then embrace himself because hes most definitely goofy. But nah they left him trying so hard to convince himself he's serious, and tbh he just came across as branch 2.0.

Alright moving on!!

4. I'm mad they didn't include a little flashback of viva and poppy being inseparable until the escape happened. Like I know popps was an infant but at the same time troll kids talk the day they're born, so it would've been nice to see them be together at least once before they separated.

Also.

I WANNA DECK PEPPY IN THE FACE. you lost your daughter and instead of MOURNING her and spreading her memory you decided to act like she didn't EXIST. WHY. like he was obviously depressed and sad but why didn't you tell poppy stories of her when she was a kid or something? And keep her memory alive??

(And sure. There's the thing with "They weren't gonna give poppy a sister until now" but I feel like they could've at least made poppy remember a small flashback is what I'm saying.)

Idk. I just wish it was handled differently like why is peppy keeping so much shit to himself lmao.

Oh yeah and then there's just my little nitpick and it's that I wish they included the troll leaders in the wedding sequence ok they're all friends they should've been invited ok I just wanted to see them again 😭(totally not saying thus cuz world tour is my fav but I am)

Anyway, yeah! I think this is just what mainly bothers me about the movie. I just feel like the conflict was handled poorly. But either than that it's still a good watch. I like it a lot :D

If you read this far, God damn you like to read, and thanks for dealing with my stupid thoughts!

If not, that's OK lol.

[buried-in-autumn-leaves]

college Nate and Everett please please please :3

LMAO HIII <33

I was just yapping ab this in the notes of one of my other posts but college is when they both have to admit that not even THEY can handle each other. This post will be formatted as a badly written and unedited drabble fic 🥰 Mostly from Eve's perspective, so like some of my story for Nate gets lost here but I'll probably post about that at some point.

(Content Warning for Mentions of Drug Use) (It's just weed, Nate has a bad experience and talks about some of the symptoms that are overwhelming him.)

It didn't surprise anyone when Everett and Nate end up going to college together– No way Nate was going to let his best friend NOT go to college, it was important. Them going to the same school would just make it easier for Nate to keep an eye on him.

They weren't expecting it to be so much different.

Nate is busy more these days. Everett sees him sometimes, hunched over his desk as he falls asleep. He hears him leave before sunrise, not bothering to wave– He won't wave back anyway.

It's embarrassing, the way he misses the way Nate used to look after him. Things as simple as waking HIMSELF up instead of waking to Nate shaking his shoulder feels bitter.

And then the grades start coming back.

He hides them– Obviously. He can't admit to Nate that he's failing, can't admit that he's probably going to get expelled by the end of the year. It would be one thing if he was just slacking. Had he been failing due to just not doing the work, maybe it would've FELT less like failure. But this? To genuinely be trying and just not being good enough? That hurt.

He makes the decision to drop out within maybe four months of starting– It's probably longer than anyone else thought he would last. He swears he can hear Shiloh's god awful passive remarks all the way in the dean's office.

"What are you doing?"

"...packing."

This... this is probably his fault too, huh? He could've warned told him. Could've torn Nate away from his notes and books long enough to say something– ANYTHING. Maybe, if he'd done that, there could've been a proper goodbye.

But like we said, Everett isn't smart.

"Please just stop yelling-"

"What is wrong with you?! All the work you did- Hell, all the work I did!"

He argues back, of course– He's still himself. He yells. He rants about how he'd never wanted to go here in the first place, about how if Nate really cared he would've noticed how much he was trying, really trying.

When Everett storms out, he tries not to think about the fact that his entire world just collapsed underneath him. He calls his mom, convinces her that Nate is this awful monster who only cares about himself. She defends him, to his bitternes, because how couldn't she?

Everybody loved Nate.

When he goes back to the dorm that night to get his things, Nate isn't there.

He'll pretend that doesn't upset him either.

It's almost six months later when his phone rings.

'Unknown Caller' my ass, as if he could ever fucking forget that one. It's practically engraved in his brain: One of two numbers he ever bothered to memorize. He tells himself that unless Nate is on the line to APOLOGISE, he's hanging up. He doesn't quite believe himself anymore.

"What the fuck are you rambling about?"

"I can't- They said it would help but- Shit, I can't breathe right-"

Now, whatever you were thinking, Everett Gray has a backbone. He does not tell his friends that he just remembered something he had to do for his mom. He does not leave the party in a rush he struggles to keep under control. He does not sneak back onto that hell of a college campus and into Nate's dorm. He does not acknowledge the fact that his stomach is in knots. He does not spend that night sitting at Nate's side, letting him lay his head in his lap and reminding him that no, the room is not spinning. You're safe.

Because why would he do that?

Nate is... less than pleased when he wakes up. It's Saturday, he has no excuse to immediately leave, avoiding the awful awkward conversation that's staring him down right now.

Nate Lawson does not ASK for things– He takes them. He commands any room he's in. He knows how to control people. He does not beg.

And yet...

"I want you to stay."

"We're not good for each other. For anyone, really."

"I could be better."

And maybe that's not what they said. Maybe there was more arguing, more yelling. Maybe someone cries. Maybe they don't speak at all, too awkward to start. (After all, remember who we're talking about.) But they'll understand each other.

They always have.

[howdoichooseablogname]

wip wednesday

"So, what did you bring Buckaroo?" Chimney asked trying to peer into the bag. Before he could Maddie gripped it closed with a mischievous grin.

"I don't know yet. Why don't we all take a guess," Maddie suggested. Buck placed Jee down on her chair before grabbing the paper plates Chimney bought the previous day.

"That sounds fun. Person who's closest gets first dibs for dessert," Buck added. Jee perked up at the mention of dessert.

"Ice cream!" She shouted. Buck only smiled.

"Close. That's not a lunch food though. What do you think is for lunch?"

Chimney would call him out for giving Jee a second guess, but since his daughter is too cute sometimes he'll let it slide.

"Dino nuggets!" She shouted mimicking how she plays with them before eating.

"Unfortunately not. Maybe next time. Maddie, what's your guess?" Buck asked, turning to face her. Maddie gave a thoughtful look before answering.

"Is it spaghetti?" She guessed. Buck gave a thoughtful hum before turning to Chimney.

"Saving the best for last, huh?" Chimney teased. Buck turned to face Jee.

"I guess your dad doesn't get a guess!" Buck said with a mock cheer. Jee cheered along.

"Hey!" Chimney gave Buck a dramatic look of betrayal.

"Alright. I guess you can have a guess," Buck dramatically sighed. From the side Maddie laughed as she opened the bag to see what was for lunch.

"They were guessing things you usually make for lunch. I'm gonna guess you brought take-out. Specifically Thai take-out," Chimney guessed. Buck had an exited glint in his eyes.

"Close. It's Indian take-out," Buck grinned.

-

this is a chimney centered fic. i thought id show the buckley-han family (plus buck) being silly because we need more of it. this is set around mid season 6 so jee is about 2/3 years old

i was gonna choose chinese take-out, but my love for the one indian restaurant on door dash took over.

the fic is about chimney being gray asexual. discovering and coming out later in life. im not gray ace, so if anybody who is has any experience or stories you would like to share please let me know 🙏

wip word count and doc info (as of last night) under read more

[sleepy-lil-kit-kat]

your fic with hades was SO CUTE!!! i loved it! :D i was wondering if you could do something else with him? it can be anything!!! i think he would be super protective as a cg!!! maybe meg and hercules question his ability to watch over a regressor, thinking their not safe with him. i dunno just a thought!! thank you!!

skies will be gray

~600 words, not on ao3

same as before, disney's hercules and some Greek mythology. set ambiguously post-canon

cg!hades, regressor!reader, ascended-to-godhood!reader. due to being from a pov that is very attached to hades, not wholly sympathetic to meg and hercules. hurt/comfort

i ought to admit, this... isn't my best work, lol. i rewatched hercules and it still didn't feel right, but i felt bad letting the request sit too long in my inbox. Meg and Hercules are... sorta the villains here? they're doing it from a place of caring, and Meg has a lotta issues with Hades... they're not bad guys really, but they are making a mistake (maybe one i might write them fixing later. who knows!)

- this is a sfw age regression post, solely sexual blogs please dni -

"Lord Hercules, Lady Megara. My Lord speaks of you both." You clutch your chiton tightly as you look at the two heroes, trying not to betray your nerves too strongly. Or betray the fact that you really, truly, do not want to speak.

"My father's mentioned you as well." You stiffen up at that, even though it's probably just the usual gossip that goes around when a mortal ascends. Probably, most likely, flavoured with that disdain for Hades and those that live with the dead that all the gods above have.

"I see. Well, please excuse me, but I must be getting on with my duties." The formal mask serves you well, here.

"What exactly is your domain? Hades is as close-lipped as ever on the matter."

"Well, Lady Megara, I don't–see how it is of any concern to you. Please excuse me." You bow shortly, then step back and let your form dissolve into smoke, so that you can be on your way. So that you can escape.

(It's quite likely, you think, that you'll need to sit with Hades for a while when you get back. And he'll rant about how the gods favour the heroes born to them, but you don't mind that.)

-

"You manage to get that stubborn ghost back down here?" Hades is as ever, and that in itself is enough to calm you just a little.

Mechanically, you nod, then sit yourself down on your cushion, letting yourself go sort of limp.

"Stressful time up there, huh? You ran into someone?"

For a second time, you nod, and hold up two fingers so that he can see.

"Two someones, huh? Don't worry, kid, barely anyone's likely to come down here after you."

You flinch.

"Ran into someones who... might?" He himself sounds hesitant now, though he hides it well. "It wasn't Hercules and Megara, though, right?"

Though you don't say anything, your stillness is answer enough.

"Oh, mercy," he says, and then you spy, at a distance, the two heroes. Hades rises to his feet, and so do you, clinging to the fabric of his robes as though it's anchoring you to reality. "So nice to meet again, heroes," he drawls."

"You've been hurting the godling."

Rapidly, you shake your head, but you don't think they see it.

"Hades, we spoke to them earlier, and they said–"

"They spoke? That's strike one, then, because if they can help it, they don't." Hades's firey hair turns red as he interrupts Hercules. "Go on, why do you think I'm hurting the kid."

"You're hardly the best candidate to care for anyone!" Megara's eyes are practically burning as she says it. You know of their history, you know that she has every reason to think this, but–

You tremble slightly, clinging tighter to Hades.

"Get out."

"But-"

"Get. Out."

Even faced with the god's wrath, his form covered in ruby-red flame, they don't back down. Hercules puffs up more "Not unless-"

"Stop it," you whisper, unable to take much more of this.

Improbably, the two heroes hear you. Hercules pales, and they both–

–they say something to each other, and then they leave.

There's a beat. Hades turns, crouches down. "Hey, hey kid," he says, tone oh so gentle, gentler than you think you've ever heard it before, despite the rage that he'd been in just a minute ago. (He'd... he'd calmed himself, for you.) "Those idiots are gone now, yeah?"

You nod, slowly.

He sighs slightly, though it's not you he seems aggravated at, and lifts you up. Unlike what usually happens though, he just holds you there. Like a moth to a flame, you press yourself closer to him, soaking up his shadowy-safe presence. In his arms, you're so small, so protected. Nothing could ever hurt you.

All is right with the world.

[that-stray-bird]

The Outworld Melodia

Tired from days of toil, seeking ways to cope, Old friends greet with smiles, rekindling hope. Yet, as memories bloom from the days of yore, A ticking bomb sets off, and peace is no more.

Warnings: Dazai going missing. Mentions of being homeless, struggling with food, mentions of robbing, some fluff, wholesome things, and reader being done with bombs and shit.

Chapter 6

------------------------------------------

A yawn escaped you as you stretched your arms and shoulders. You heard pops and snaps and tried to relax to continue the task before you, which was writing and looking through some files. It was not the most exciting task, especially when you were failing to keep up a better sleeping schedule, so your interest and energy levels were not at their best. 

"Has anyone seen Dazai? I can't find him at home or anywhere," Atsushi questioned, noticing the absence of the brunette-haired man, who usually would be up to cause Kunikida a headache or call someone to help him out of his latest suicide attempt. 

“He’s probably down in some river again,” Kunikida responded while working on his computer. “Maybe he got himself stuck in jail,” Kenji said while admiring a pot of plant. “My guess is he’s off with a woman,” Ranpo added while seated in front of a window and probably eating more snacks. 

“Aren’t you worried?” Atsushi questioned, rather stunned by their lack of care toward the suicidal man’s disappearance. 

“That man's ability to avoid death works at nightmarish proficiency,” Kunikida stated. “Maybe after all the suicide attempts, he’s as lively as ever,” Kenji added. 

You glanced at the gray-haired boy, who seemed really hesitant and worried about the agency’s suicidal maniac. “Give him a day or two…” you started. “Dazai can look after himself if he’s in trouble, and if he’s okay, he will appear sooner or later. If he doesn’t, then it's time to worry about him,” you said, trying to sound assuring. "Okay— if you say so," Atsushi said after listening to you. 

Your eyes then notice a familiar face walking into the office. “Oh, hey! You’re finally out of the death bed!” you announced his presence to the others. 

“Huh, looks like you’re back on your feet,” Kunikida stated. “Yeah…” Tanizaki rubbed the back of his head. “All thanks to Miss Yosano’s treatment,” he smiled. 

“Of course…” Kunikida fixed his glasses. “How many times?” he asked, and Tanizaki became pale. 

“Fou... four times," Tanizaki quivered on the ground like a traumatized child. You looked at the ginger with pity while Atsushi was still confused. 

Your phone vibrated on your desk, showing a text message. You grabbed it to check and saw it was a message from an old friend. 

"(Name)! Long time no see! I hope you have been faring well. Say, would you like to meet up and get some coffee? I have some news about your robber," – Yours truly, Markel. 

From the mention of the robber, the fatigue you felt vanished completely, and you didn't waste a second to send a reply, agreeing to meet with him. 

"Did something come up? You seem much more energized than seconds ago," Atsushi asked after noticing the sudden change in your mood. "Yeah. I got a text from a friend I hadn't seen in a while. He asked me to have coffee and share some news," you shared with a smile. "Oh, that's nice," Atsushi smiled back. 

"Now, this is a surprise!" Yosano suddenly wrapped her hands around your shoulders. You nearly yelped from her sudden appearance and her weight against your back but didn’t mind it since you were used to her initiating physical contact. 

"You usually avoid going out, and now here you are willing to go get coffee with... what's his name?" she leaned down to take a closer look at your phone. "Markel?" she grinned at you. 

You rolled your eyes at her. "Markel is just a friend, Yosano. Don't entertain those ideas in your head," you said as you pushed your phone into your pocket and began cleaning up your desk. "And besides, having coffee with an old acquaintance is better than skulking about files and whatever Kunikida had added to my work list," you stated. 

“Is it really okay for you to just leave suddenly?” Atsushi questioned. “It’s fine. Since Kunikida is not here anymore,” you replied. “What do you mean? He’s right—eh?!” Atsushi finally noticed the absence of three other people in the office, a habit they did to avoid whatever Yosano would get in her mind. 

“By the way, Atsushi. I need someone to go shopping with, and since you’re the only one available,” Yosano said. Atsushi looked nervous. “Eh? Do I really have to?” he questioned. “It will be fine. We won’t be doing anything violent,” Yosano smiled. “Yosano… you’re scaring him,” you gave her a slight glare. 

“Anyway, my destination is near the shopping center. Mind if I join you for the time being?” you asked. “Yes, please!” Atsushi replied without hesitation. “Oh, that would be wonderful indeed. Well, let’s not waste any time,” Yosano said as you all began leaving the agency. 

You nudged Atsushi as you walked together. “Hey, you will be okay. Yosano might have a reputation, but she can be pleasant when you hang around enough. You just need to avoid asking too many questions and avoid accidental confrontation,” you explained. “Okay, I will.” Atsushi nodded. 

“You know, I think this day will be a peaceful one, no drama, no Port Mafia, and especially no bombs. We already had too much of that this month,” you said. “I… I hope you’re right,” Atsushi replied as you left the agency. 

—

You bid farewell to Atsushi and Yosano at the entrance of the shopping center and began making your way through the city. Yokohama was a large city, and usually, you do not dare to wander there alone, but luckily, you knew several different routes to the place that had helped you a lot in the past, Markel's music store, The Monedero's instruments. 

The streets became familiar to you, and when you finally saw the shop and the cafe on the opposite side of the driveway – you noticed a familiar man waiting outside, dressed in a fine outfit and smoking a cigarette. 

When he saw you, he took out his cigarette and grinned. "(Name)! Good to see you!" he declared as you approached him. "Hi, Markel. You look lively as ever," you greeted him. 

"How have you been doing? Has the armed detective agency been treating you well? Has anything interesting happened during your time there?” Markel questioned. 

“I’ve been doing okay, and the people there are very good to me. However, too many things had happened for me to share in a single sentence,” you replied, and he laughed. 

“Well, let’s go inside and enjoy some coffee and simple delicacies while you tell me. I am very interested to know what you have experienced in these past years,” Markel patted you toward the cafe with a grin, and you entered without much thought. 

—

With Markel’s insistence to buy for you, you two ordered coffee and some pastries before seating yourself at a table, sharing the latest news and rumors before finally receiving your orders from the waitress. 

“Thank you, Markel, for buying these. You really didn’t have to since I’m no longer struggling with money. I have more than enough to buy my own things,” you took a sip from your coffee. “Then how about for old times' sake? I always had a soft spot for all of you,” Markel grinned with a dismissing hand. You smiled at his gesture. 

“So, what did you find out about the robber?” you asked. 

“Oh! I nearly forgot. One moment, please!” Markel took out his phone. You waited patiently as he then showed you a picture. “My friend a few days ago had a robbery incident. Now, I am not sure if this is the robber you are looking for, but my friend then said the little rat managed to escape by vanishing in thin air,” Markel explained as you stared at the picture, which was taken of a surveillance screen, and there on the screen was a hooded person, running away from the shop. “Now, that’s what got my attention and made me suspect if this is the world hopper you talked about,” he said, pulling his phone away. 

“Of course, the robber managed to escape, and no one knows where,” Markel said with a dramatic sigh. “But I thought this would be something worth mentioning to you,” he glanced at you. 

"Does your friend really have no idea where this robber might have vanished?" you questioned.

“Well, my friend was very pissed about the whole incident, so he’s already looking into it. He’s someone who doesn’t let these kinds of things go easily. But, I am not certain if he will be successful with his investigation,” Markel explained.

You remained silent for a moment, thinking. 

"Thank you, Markel. This is the first clue I have heard in years," you stated. 

"I wonder. (Name), you work in an agency filled with people, who are specialized in solving cases like murder and disappearances. Why haven’t you asked for their help?” Markel questioned with a curious look. 

"They... don't know where I am from yet. I don’t know how they would react, but Dazai has been trying to probe the truth out of me since he has a hunch I am not telling everything," you revealed, holding your coffee. 

"Dazai? Wasn't he that odd fellow Keiji and Tsukiko found stuck in the trash container behind the shop months ago?" Markel questioned,” If I remember correctly, he tried to jump off the roof,” he said.  

You groaned at the memory. "Yeah. That Dazai," you confirmed. 

"Not to mention. The Port Mafia had been trying to abduct the agency's newest member. He has an ability that allows him to turn into a white tiger. Someone had put a bounty over his head, and because of that, he hasn't been allowed much peace," you explained. "Oh, that is very unfortunate," Markel shared his pity. "Everyone knows if you end up as a target to those ruffians, they will not leave you alone," he added. 

"I know this might be a lot to ask, but since you have more dealings even in illegal matters. Could you look out for who announced the bounty on my friend's head?" you asked. "I usually stay away from those matters unless I really have to, but if I end up finding something. I'll let you know," Markel said. "Thank you, Markel," you stated. 

"Anytime, Chica. Remember that The Northern Light will always look out for their own,” Markel smiled. He then looked over your shoulder, and you heard the bell at the cafe’s door ring. 

An arm suddenly wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you against another presence. "(Name)!" one of your old friends, Misaki, screamed and hugged you tightly. Momentarily, you struggled to breathe while patting her arm in a greeting. "It's been forever! Markel! Why didn't you say you invited (Name) over?!" she looked at him accusingly. Keiji and Tsukiko then walked over. Misaki let you free from her death grip. 

"Sorry! She got excited when she saw (Name). Nice to see you again, (Name). How have you been doing?" Keiji asked. You smiled. "I've been doing okay. How about you?" you questioned. 

“We have been doing well, though it’s been more quiet since you left,” Keiji answered. “It’s really good to see again, (Name),” Tsukiko smiled. You looked at her with a fond smile. “Me too, Tsuki,” you said. 

"Hey! You should consider visiting us more often!" Misaki ruffled your hair, and you awkwardly chuckled. "That would be a wonderful idea! (Name), if you're interested, I have some places and gigs for your skills," Markel smiled. 

“I… think about it,” you said. 

"Oh yeah, you became a member of the Armed Detective Agency. You got to tell us all about them. Are they really ability users like us? What kind of actions have you seen?!" Misaki asked as Tsukiko sat beside her and Keiji beside Markel. "Yes, they are ability users, but I prefer to avoid unnecessary action,” you answered. "Oh, come on! Tell us more," Misaki begged. "If you don't mind. I would be interested to know too," Tsukiko said with a curious gaze. 

"Well..." you looked at all of them. They all looked back at you with eager and curious gazes, and Markel was just sitting in the corner, obviously not planning to help you out of the spotlight. "I guess I can," you relented. 

"Yes! Tell us everything!" Misaki nudged at you. "Okay, calm down. Where should I start... Okay, here's what happened last month..." You started talking about past events. Your former boss and friends listened, asking questions from here and then while enjoying coffee and pastries with you. Your visit lasted longer than planned, but you didn’t mind since it felt nice conversing with them after such a long time. 

—

You walked down the streets. After conversing and promising to keep in contact with your old friends, you were in high spirits. What you once thought would be a gloomy day had transformed into a truly good one.

You used to wander alone, traveling from city to city, desperately trying to keep yourself fed by performing with your violin as a street artist. You were homeless, and by fate, you were found by Markel, who was amazed by your talent and decided to take you in, introducing you to your friends. 

Your friends welcomed you with open arms, and together, you formed a band called The Northern Light. You couldn't thank them enough for the support they had given you. They were ability users as well and part of a bigger community that was full of warm-hearted people. They were the first to introduce you to the world of ability users when you discovered your ability for the first time. 

You glanced at the picture you had asked Markel to share with you. Several thoughts ran through your mind as you tried to find similarities between the robber and the one who brought you into this world. 

It was unclear, but it was the first clue.

Your goal to find them might be a desperate one. The robber could be anywhere since they had the ability to travel between worlds, and you knew nothing about them, except that they wore a hood and stole your wallet. 

Markel's words about asking for the agency's help lingered in your mind. Should you reveal the truth and ask for their help? It would definitely help stop Dazai from nagging you for good. But what if they call you a liar? What if they don’t react well like you hoped? What if they start treating you like a delusional? 

Releasing a sigh, you put your phone away. Too many thoughts– you will think about it once you have to cross that bridge. 

You started your journey back to the agency, but then your ears caught the sound of a train, and a huge explosion happened at the train track. Stopping in your tracks, you watched as the cloud of smoke cleared up and noticed the state of the train. It looked like it had been completely ravaged by bombs. Weren’t Atsuhi and Yosano supposed to be on that train? 

In the distance, you could notice two figures floating above the water after the bomb went off. 

“Oh, come on!” you groaned in rising frustration. 

It was the third time Yokohama had been targeted by bombs. Couldn't the Port Mafia or other crime organizations come up with something different once in a while?

[yuraimi-lee-bunny]

Same anon that asked about gray's analysis, just wanted to say that it's nice to see that you're writeing "the 13 reason's why" inspired fic, I remember you said that it was based on a speech the boy (forgot his name) wrote to hannah. Looking forward to it

would also like to share some anti-rc arguments as you were asking

Gray groomed carmen.

Carmen is trying to 'fix' gray.

Gray chose a corprate job over his little sister. Would also like to rant about the last argument you taked about refering to gray keeping quiet for six months(hope you don't mind) can I just point out that carmen kept quiet about gray's brainwashing for 18 months, that's 3 times the amount gray did and you don't see anyone talking about that, the hypocrisy. It's also important to understand why they did that, they've both wanted to not be on opposing sides, carmen see's gray's date as a "second chance" before realising that she could gray in danger and walks away same goes for gray who after carmen is brainwashed doesn't do anything for 6 months and then does something when carmen is awarded faculty and is going to kill shadowsan. I feel like a lot of people would just say that what carmen did was fine since gray wasn't a criminal anymore but gray was living a life without choosing it/being himself and that's still wrong, that's something they're totally gonna be trauma bonding and apologising about. Anyways best of luck on the fic and hope you have a great day.

Hi! Oh my! Did I comment on my idea here? I didn't remember it (it must have been in 2021 or 2022 that I mentioned) Thank you very much for your support and desire to read it!

About the other reasons why they come to deny/hate Red Crackle: hmmmmmm let me comment on it point by point.

1.- huh?… how? when? like why? There is no reason or proof for that. The word "groomed" shouldn't be used lightly.

2.- Carmen? That Carmen? Our Carmen Sandiego? The one that in the second chapter, basically because she didn't agree to return to Vile, 5 minutes later, kicked Gray in the face and handed him over to Chase? Are we talking about the same Carmen that in Chapter 4 of the fourth season, when Gray told her that he was returning to VILE and asked her not to continue messing to them, she immediately blew up half a laboratory and ran away, thus saying goodbye to Gray?

……..let me first laugh freely.

I guess since there is no real reason to deny Red Crackle, they have no choice but to lie.

3.- ……………………. Carmen left Gray, her older brother, to make her own path. Gray chose to let Carmen free because of her criminal career (and because of threats than mere pleasure). Everyone chooses her path…

And about you rant. I somewhat agree. I mean, Carmen didn't do anything for 18 months because she didn't really know what VILE had done to Gray. I mean, she believed that only Gray had his memory erased from his time in VILE, but not from the change in morals. And yet, Carmen didn't have the tools to do that. And even if she had them, she was going to choose hers well and it was best of her not to make him remember her past with VILE. As for what happened to Gray when Carmen was brainwashed, let's go to the same thing: he may have first thought that it was a "good plan" because FINALLY he wasn't going to be with a high probability of having to face him again Carmen, and that if the Faculty ordered him to "get rid of her" he would have no choice (again, for his life, not for "loyalty" to VILE, that one left when he returned, but again, I will talk about it later in my analysis)

He no longer liked the plan because he saw what happened at the fair (because Gray saw himself in Carmen, he projected himself, but again, I talk about that later in my analysis) he started to take care of her in those 6 months. , but once she became part of the Faculty, she was in their hands and with the rumor about Shadowsan, he had no choice but to take risks.

Both in the ENTIRE SERIES ALWAYS took risks to take care of each other. Yes, some were of dubious actions and morals, but there were no other options. It was what they both had at that moment, for the sake of their own well-being. Why everyone believes that Gray returned to VILE with such pleasure? it's TOO obvious that it wasn't like that, that he only did it out of fear for his life and Carmen didn't do anything in those 18 months because she didn't know the change in morals, she didn't have the tools and for her own good?

Anyway, thanks for your ask! And thanks for your encouragement to my fic!

[helcria]

Sayato’s Story Chapter 1

i had an earlier draft of this but i felt like revamping it and splitting it more efficiently into chapters than i did first time writing it- this feels more prologue-y than anything really so i was torn between calling it chapter 1 or prologue lmfao. anyway i’ve worked on this for over a year now and maybe if i actually start posting chapters it’ll motivate me to actually get this full thing finished. 

this story series is going to get heavy. if you’re particularly sensitive toward the subject matter of bullying/abuse this story may not be for you. if other triggering material comes up in future chapters i will be issuing warnings for the things there, as things like the mention of self-harm and suicidal ideations come up later.

anyway enough preamble. story under the cut!

A fight breaks out in the training grounds; it’s a normal sight for instructor Shirou Katsuragi’s class, admittedly- at least, between this pair of students involved anyway. The rest of the class crowds around the two squabbling kids, eager to witness this mess. Shirou, however, was out on a lunch break on what was the final day of class before their graduation the following week.

A blonde girl had a brunette boy pinned to the ground. He struggled to fight back against her, his frame being quite a bit smaller than hers, so it wasn’t working out well in his favor. “You're so cute when you're pathetic and beaten down like this, Sayato!” The girl sneered.

The boy looked more annoyed by her than anything else and gave a roll of his eyes in response before finally speaking up. 

“Shut it Shiori. The mind games aren’t gonna work, haven’t worked in a long time. Everyone here knows you’re in love with Ak-” A swift punch to the brunette’s face shut him up real quick.

“I can't believe someone as weak as you managed to graduate. I feel sorry for whoever gets stuck on your squad considering you can't even fight back against a girl.” Shiori went to insult and degrade him, trying to move the subject on from Sayato’s earlier remark.

“Maybe if you weren't so heavy, I'd have a chance.” Sayato usually didn’t really care to make disparaging remarks like that about others, but landing a low blow on the vain Shiori was an exception to that.

“You FUCKING ASSHOLE!” Shiori immediately brought her hands toward Sayato’s neck. This went from a simple schoolyard fight to a serious one-sided brawl very quickly. She was already mad about Sayato implying who she had a crush on, but now to have him attack her body image was a step too far. 

A gray-haired kid, one who appeared to look a few years younger than the rest of his peers in the class, ran away from the scene. Other kids stood there, discussing it all amongst themselves in the meantime.

A girl who hadn’t been there however, came to the training grounds to see what was going on after having finished her own lunch. When she came onto the scene, the mood changed immediately. Many of the kids tensed up or took their distance from her. Her name is Hibana Uchiha, and she unfortunately has her sharingan activated at all times, unable to turn it off.. She was seen by many as emotionally unstable and intimidating as a result of this.

Despite her reputation, she knew she had to step in. It’s not like anyone else was going to do a damn thing. They’d rather sit around and talk about how funny it is that Sayato’s getting beat up by a girl or who they think Shiori has a thing for. 

Hibana made her way to the center, trying to pull Shiori off of Sayato and shouting “Stop!”

Shiori did as Hibana said, giving a glare to the Uchiha who decided to butt into the brawl. “Is this any of your business?”

“I’m...I'm sick of the way you pick on people like Kaiko and Sayato! It's awful! You're awful! You think you're better than everyone else and it's tiring! You don't mess with me, probably because you're scared of me just like Akio is, huh?!” As soon as Hibana said that, more whispers and murmurs started. “Now get off of Sayato, or I'll make you.” She growled, tugging at the blonde’s arm. She didn’t know it, but a second tomoe had formed on her sharingan. 

Before Shiori could respond in turn, the gray-haired youngster returned in tow with an older man. “Again? Jeez…” The white-haired instructor looked exasperated. Not the first time he’s seen Shiori and Sayato duke it out, but it is the first time he’s seen Hibana get involved.

“Kids, stop fighting… you’re all technically genin now, can’t you save this for the battlefield?” A half-hearted response. Again, nothing new. He was used to this, and he was definitely over it all.

“Aw Haine, why’d you have to go and snitch like this? The fight was starting to get good!” A slightly older student with face markings complained at the fight being stopped.

The fight broke up, Shiori getting off of Sayato, Hibana letting go of Shiori’s arm and helping Sayato off of the ground, and the kids separating off into different groups to talk amongst their peers.

Sayato was surprised that someone for once had actually come to his defense. He wasn’t exactly well-liked in class. He made no effort to really socialize with others, and treated class as if it were a joke a lot. Still, he managed to figure out the clone jutsu before anyone else in class could, much to the pleasure of Katsuragi who was probably thankful he didn’t have to deal with the class clown for another semester.

“Uh… thanks for getting involved back there…?” He said, a little awkwardly. 

“You don’t need to thank me!” Hibana replied back. “I’ve kinda been getting tired of her mean girl shtick and this gave me the chance to almost do something about it.” There was a faint blush in her cheeks.

“You’re an Uchiha, right?” Sayato said, asking the stupidly obvious.

Hibana nodded in affirmation.

“If you’ve got any relatives working at the Uchiha police station, do any of them still mention my dad? He liked to help out from time to time, and his birthday is coming up on our graduation day so I’ve been thinking a lot about him lately.”

Hibana gave a contemplative face. “Uhh… there’s a plaque for a guy named Shohei Yasuda there I think, if that’s your dad! It’s been a while since I’ve actually gone to the station myself. I’m not sure if they still talk about him there, adults don’t really like to discuss ‘serious’ stuff with us…”

“That IS my dad!”

Sayato and Hibana talked for a while longer, mostly about family stuff. Or well, in Sayato’s case, lack of family. Sayato had lost his parents when the Nine Tailed Fox rampaged a few years prior, leaving him an orphan. Other topics discussed were what they wanted to do in the future, how much they looked forward to graduation and obtaining their headbands, and getting to know each other. It was funny, neither of them really had reached out to one another outright before besides maybe something as simple as a “Can I borrow a pencil” type of conversation in class, but now that their time in the Academy was up and graduation was imminent, they were getting friendly. It’s the first time in a few years Sayato could say he’s had that kind of connection with someone.

The sun was setting and most kids had already made it back home. Two adults, a man and a woman approached the school grounds, coming up to Hibana.

“Hibana dear, it’s starting to get late.” The woman, presumably her mother, said with a tone indicating it was time for her to get going.

Hibana looked a bit dismayed. She was having a good time with Sayato, but unfortunately home was calling. “Bye Sayato! See you at the graduation ceremony next week!” She said, walking off with her parents.

“See ya! Thanks again for helping out!” Sayato said, being a bit vague about what that helping out entailed as to not snitch her out to her parents.

“Sayato? That's Shohei's boy, right? Glad to hear he graduated too. Maybe you'll be on the same squad as him!” Hibana's dad said, giving a small fatherly ruffle to Hibana's hair.

“Uh huh! And Shohei’s birthday is coming up soon, so you better pay your respects to him!” Hibana said, boasting her newfound information about a man who she didn’t really know, but knew that he obviously mattered to Sayato.

“Oh, is it?” Hibana’s mother said. 

That was all Sayato could hear before the family got out of earshot for him. And there he stood, the last kid at the academy. No parents, no guardians there to drag him home. And it was about time for him to take his leave too.

The lonesome boy made his way back home, greeted by a usual silence. Bunny themed knick-knacks adorned various places within the house. A few picture frames were there, but they were pushed down. Maybe a little too sad to have those up all the time and remind him of what he was robbed of, he thought.

Tonight’s “dinner” composed of a cup of instant ramen. Nutritious. But Sayato didn’t really know how to cook much, and admittedly was a little reckless in how he spent his monthly orphan stipend, but he felt the candy he liked to buy was more worth it than getting something sustainable.

After taking care of some other basic needs like showering and brushing his teeth, it was time for Sayato to go to bed, albeit getting to sleep was a struggle for him, as he did have semi-frequent nightmares. Going to bed was like a gamble, one he didn’t particularly like to take, but an unavoidable one. He flopped into bed, eventually passing out for the night.

[shirogane-oushirou]

sorry for being a gacha player, it will happen again u_u posting this here bc i talk about selfship stuff + i crush on a number of these ops KNSKDJNK so. yknow. look at these funny lil guys lala~

more detail under the cut bc i made this so complicated for myself LMAO ;; also, original is here!

(ALSO i made and drafted this a number of weeks back so the "recent op" stuff is out of date kjsndfkjn but i am Nawt going back and changing it. <3 )

[cw mentions of an irl cheating scandal and a meme that could maybe? trigger emeto]

first 6*: angelina... pubby... she's nowhere near meta anymore lmaoooo but she's still special to me. she's Baby. i think she might have also been my first e2 6*?

recent 6*: i very suddenly acquired uhhh walter, g.nosis, logos, f.lametail, n.earl alter, and -- the recent shop op -- e.benholz within like a 1-2wk period jndkfjn. my materials.... i don't even have enough to e2 him rn, i'm out of chip catalysts (and red certs so i can't buy more in the shop) ;;

(i have e2'd him since i drafted this post. took a good bit of grinding tho ;;;)

favorite operator: i like.... too many ops....... this is me really weeding out a ton of ops i love. of the ones there:

> s.esa looks like oushirou and is (outwardly) a huge loser KNJASKJDN <3 he acts super chuuni but there's more going on underneath. love that archetype sm. you're such a weenie, come make out w me about it ^^ > courier is voiced by h.irakawa d.aisuke aka my fav voice actor. absolutely love courier.... if they ever give him an alter i'll scream and cry and frow up. tbch i was on the fence wrt trying the game out for MONTHS, and then my friend played a bit on stream, put courier on his squad, i heard his voice, and... i immediately downloaded it ndkfvnkdfjn i am not immune to my fav VA or a cute musk deer guy who's been through A LOT.... > m.udrock.... she's so cool.... and so strong.... i love that i started playing right before the twilight of w.olumonde rerun so i knew what she looked like as a boss character but nothing more than that, and so when i drew her in the gacha later it was like :0 BUT YOU'RE A BOSS CHARACTER?? HUH?? > mountainnnnn who's played by another fav VA, n.akai k.azuya!!! (same va as my f/o gray aha oho :3 ) also very cool and strong, interesting backstory, and. i mean. he's pretty......... ///;; > every single s.kadi KJASNDKJNKJN i'm so happy this official joke art exists. i love stoic a.byssal hunter s.kadi... i love hivemind, apocalypse-inducing s.kadi... i think i.shar'mla is so inch resting... love my fish wife.

least favorite: ok so i'm cheating a little. i don't like catapult (long, unskippable recruitment spiel, constantly ruined my early auto annihilation runs back when that was a thing -- not stuff that's really her fault as a Person in a Story, but as a Game Mechanic...;;). but even though this is an inventory meme and i don't have him... god i hate p.assenger. not through any fault of his own, though...

[CW CHEATING] he's voiced by t.akahiro s.akurai, aka the olympic-gold-medalist-level adulterer who was found to have cheated on his wife and lead his side girlfriend on for a FUCKING DECADE. used to love his voice, but it just pisses me off now, and i DESPISE that he hasn't faced much backlash role-wise (he was recast in the new m.ononoke movie though. HA. sucks to suck, asshole). so. to the garbage can w you, p.assenger. :(

most used: probably either t.horns or s.aria -- they're both the first ones i go to when making a team for new stages. ol' reliables. HOWEVER.... i think walter might be in the running eventually, she's just so new that i'd feel like i'm cheating to add her on.

most built op: either s.aria or walter, maybe? s.aria is M9, both modules (not full level), lvl 80, pot 1. walter is currently on-par w other ops in some regards and better in others -- M3, full module, max lvl, whatever -- but she is pot 5, and i want to M6 her at some point. i love her. she's broken but that makes it more fun to see her in action. mwah, blows her a kissie that she swats out of the air ^^