#he was the nicest dr ever too :)

[freebooter4ever]

i made it to the artists house and my friend suggested i take the guest room if i don't want to be woken up by dogs but thats exactly what i want so i took the couch 🤣

fox friends

[rationaliity]

dr ratio vs. the genius society | an analysis

this'll also be a comparison between ruan mei and dr. ratio so warning for that one too, just in case.

i saw this post by @chronical-lover

and firstly, i just want to say thank you, especially about mentioning how aeons don't care about humans because youre so right. i wanna expand a little bit on the comparison between his character and the genius' that we've met this far.

ratio ultimately failed to be recognized not because he wasn't smart enough, but because he was too human. he's human first, scientist second. he'll always be human first, he doesn't have it in him to act without emotions no matter how much he wants logic to dictate his every move. his entire character is that he believes every one has a human right to be alive, to learn and to grow. he's there to guide them, not necessarily in the nicest way, but still.

i think contrasting him with ruan mei in the story quest was a perfect idea. when you meet ruan mei, she's kind. she makes the trailblazer feel comfortable, even for just a little bit. she offers companionship, tea, and a conversation. but she does not care about the trailblazer or her creations, something painfully obvious in her actions. when the trailblazer was facing up against ruan mei's failed attempt to make a replica of the emanator of propagation, ruan mei was no where to be found. but you know who was, just in case he had to step in ? veritas ratio. even though both knew that the replica wasn't likely to hurt the trailblazer, ratio was there.

" since you're here, i won't intercede. but should you fail, i will be forced to prevent some avoidable misfortunes "

( i hate this man so much )

but he was there. he witnessed the fight, and once the threat was over, it was time to get going ( his words, not mine ). he was there to witness you fight, and should he had needed to, he would've stepped in to prevent us from any actual danger. however, when we approach ruan mei after the fight, and we look reasonably upset from her, we don't get an actual apology. she says she regrets her actions, but her words aren't actually about putting us in danger. she was upset that her experiment fell short, that she had made another predictable outcome.

" you look.. upset, correct ? i regret my actions. there's no defending what i've done. time and again, my experiments have fallen short, and they've always yielded predictable results. i made a clone but it.. doesn't hold a candle to the emanator. "

she did say that she would be there if the danger proved to be too great, but she was not. veritas, however, was. both of them said that they would step in if needed, but only one of them was actually in a position to do so. only one of them took preventative measures to make sure that you were safe from harm. and that is not the genius ruan mei, no matter what her words say.

ruan mei has a flowery way of speaking. not to say that she necessarily minces her words, she's upfront about a lot of things. but she lures the trailblazer into a false sense of security. she's introspective, and questions her own actions a lot. but she's never apologetic about the way that her actions put other people in danger, just that they don't yield the results she wants.

ratio, however, is curt. we meet him originally as a brooding, mysterious figure. he's mean, he doesn't use a lot of words to get his point across. he says what he means, and he's a fan of effective communication. he doesn't have to worry about himself, he knows who he is and how is actions affect himself and the people around him, and that leads to people assuming that he's egotistical ( which he might be , a little bit. as a treat ) but the reality is that ratio cares more about the people around him that he'll ever let on.

and that's where he fails. that's the fundamental difference between him and those within the genius society. ruan mei, herta, screwllum, and the other geniuses do not care about anything other than results. and yet ratio is kind. he's inherently kind, his actions are all for other people. he's saved a dozen worlds with his inventions. he's a scholar within the intelligentsia guild, and a doctor saving his patient's lives every single day. he wants to guide people from the shadows towards the right answer, he wants to make them use their brains and think.

he does not act without considering other people. he can't be a genius first, and a human second. and that's where he fails to gain nous' recognition. it's not that he's not not intelligent enough to be a genius, it's that even in his pursuit of knowledge, he has not forgone his humanity.

and perhaps, in nous' eyes, that's the difference between the mediocre and the genius. to erase every part of you, your emotions, your empathy, your humanity, in the pursuit of knowledge is what separates a genius from the masses. not having those barriers allows you to really dig deep into subjects that would otherwise be considered taboo or dangerous, because you don't care about how the outcome affects people as long as you can study it. as long as you can get answers out of what you're studying, it doesn't really matter what the test subjects are feeling.

ratio is too human, too caring, to ever be considered a genius in nous' eyes.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Lonely Souls Club 7

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as stalking, loneliness, noncon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Two lost souls cross, but not all those are lost, want to be found.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: she at it again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Her 

Bucky leaves the leftovers in the fridge, his included, and the tea on the counter. He didn’t heed your protests before he went, insisting that it’s for you. You didn’t put up much of a fight. You’re too tired. 

Alone, you settle onto the couch and stare at the door. You’re used to being on your own but now it seems so scary. What if that man comes back? Bucky says he ran off, that means he’s still out there. You blow out at the ceiling as you lean your head back; just another problem. 

Your mind shifts to him. To Bucky. The man that saved you. It only sets in then that it’s been the nicest day you’ve had in a while, outside the break-in. You can separate the day from the night in that regard. 

It isn’t just nice to have food in your tummy, but you forgot what it’s like to have someone to talk to. Someone who isn’t your doctor or a government admin bartering about your stipend. Not only that, but the way he looked at you. So intent, as if he truly could care for a stranger like you. As if someone broken could ever be special. 

What are the odds he would like that noodle shop too? You suppose it’s rather popular. A coincidence can be just that. Maybe for once luck is on your side. You want to believe that but it’s just so hard to accept. You lost faith in it so long ago. 

You sidle down and ease yourself across the mattress. It feels good to just be still. You close your eyes and long for a hot soak. Showers are nice but you can’t stand for very long and the shower seat has the water spraying over you so that it feels cold. 

You languish across the thin bed but don’t sleep. Even if your hip wasn’t screaming in agony, your mind won’t settle. You might just have to take one of those pills Dr. Grissam prescribed. 

You keep the light on with little mind to the electric bill. You can’t sleep without it. You keep the curtains drawn and each time you wake with a start, you drag yourself up to check that the door is still locked. You give in to consciousness as a headache thrums behind your brow. 

As much as your fear keeps you up, you know it’s the bed too. Each night gets harder. What else can you do? You don’t have any better options. The floor would surely only leave you utterly helpless. 

You have a cup of the new tea. It’s just as delicious as at the noodle shop. You bask in its warmth until the very bottom of the cup. When it’s all gone, you stretch the way the physio showed you, and move around with your cane. You still find that awkward. 

You go out to check the mail, nervous at opening the door. The alley way is empty and quiet but for the noise of the upstairs neighbours. You pull the single envelope out of the dented mailbox and retreat. Thunk, thunk, you’re certain that both locks are firmly in place. 

You know by the stamp what it is. It’s your stipend. You’ll have to go cash it. You keep everything in bills. You can’t afford the bank fees for an account. Another journey outside. 

You tuck the check into your bag and get dressed. You wear a loose pair of cargo pants and a tee shirt with daisies on it. Your clothes are outdated and worn. You feel even more invisible when you walk past the stylish women on the streets with their stilettos and designer purses. It’s all just another fantasy you’ve let go of. 

You head off, your gait even more off-kilter than usual. It isn’t the joint that troubles you today but your anxiety. The pain is tolerable, as neutral as it can be, but that worry in your head won’t calm. You keep your free hand on your bag and clack your cane in time with your feet. 

The bank isn’t very far. You join the queue inside and lean on the cane as you pull out the check in anticipation. Your heart drops as you see the amount. It’s less than last month. A whole hundred dollars less... 

Why? You should’ve read the letter with it. You’re dumb. You’ll have to call the municipal office again. Hopefully, this time they don’t send you to hold and waste all your minutes.  

You step up and try not to show your disappointment. You get your money in a slim brown envelope and thank the teller. You head off to figure out what to do, if there’s anything to be done. 

You walk past a new stand and slow as you recognise a face on the glossy cover of a magazine. It’s Bucky. Huh. He really is famous. You shift to face the shelves and lean in as you see yourself in a smaller frame with him. Oh gosh, you look feeble next to him. 

The big bold letters scream out the question, ‘who?’ and proclaim you as a ‘mystery girl’ as others ponder if you’re a charity case. Is Bucky Barnes giving back again? Visiting with one of the many civilians he’s saved from danger? The truth is much less flattering. 

You peer up as the clerk watches you. As he approaches, you turn and quickly limp off. That’s so embarrassing. 

You can’t worry about it. You have a lot more than some clueless reporters to figure out. How in the hell are you going to afford to live? 

Bucky 

He watches her through the lens. She empties out her cupboards, the meagre pantry spread out on her counter. She makes note on the small pad, the same one she used to write him the thank you note. The one he keeps in his chest pocket. 

She drops the pen and huffs. She leans her elbows on the counter and holds her head in her hands as she bends forward. The last few days, she’s been grim. He wish he could be there but he’s stuck at this stupid fucking training. Something about lethal force and when to use it. As if he doesn’t know. 

“Hey,” Sam whispers without looking over, “stop texting your girlfriend.” 

“I’m not,” he counters and blacks the screen, hiding the cell in his lap. “She’s not my girlfriend...” 

“Not yet,” his partner laughs, “one day, right, bud?” 

“Quiet, I’m listening,” Bucky nods to the front of the room. 

“Sure,” Sam scoffs. 

Bucky rolls his eyes and clutches his phone tight. He’s antsy as all he can think about is her. What’s wrong? Something’s happened and he can’t figure it out. 

Fuck it. He flips his phone, keeping it against his thigh as he frames it with his hand. He unlocks the screen with his thumbprint and she appears again. Her shoulders are shaking as she’s wracked with sobs. Shit. He can’t just sit here listening to this nonsense. 

He stands up without thinking and slides his phone into his back pocket. Agents look at him and the suit giving the lecture pauses. Bucky doesn’t hesitate. 

“Emergency,” he states with a wave of his metal hand. No one protests his weak excuse. Not when they see that. 

He steps around Sam’s chair as he makes no effort to move out of his way. He lurches it with a scrape and huffs at his deliberate obstacle. Sam makes a noise but doesn’t resist. Bucky quickly marches out without looking back. He has to get back to her. Now. 

The helicopter ride isn’t fast enough. Bucky is restless and barely able to sit. The pilots tell him several times to do so. At last, he gets off and hurries across the tarmac. There is only his mission; her. 

He zips off on his motorcycle, weaving through traffic recklessly, until he has the mind to reel it in at a red light that nearly sends him spinning. He stops and plants his feet. He pulls on his helmet and curses himself. He’s no good to her all beaten up. 

He tries to measure his impatience but he’s never been very good at that. He can see her sobbing in his head. It makes his chest rent. He veers into the alleyway, his motor echoing, and dying as he twists the ignition. He tears the key out and kicks the stand down. 

He charges at the door then stop short. What is he doing? Shit. It’s too late. He sees the curtain stir. No doubt she heard him coming. He cringes and his treads scuff with his weight. 

She opens the inside door and peers out. He can see the dampness on her cheeks, her eyes are still swollen. She must’ve been crying this whole time. Something is seriously wrong. 

“Hey,” he says dumbly with an even dopier smile. 

“What--” she mops her face with her bare hands. She doesn’t have her cane, instead she hunches to one side. “What are you doing here?” 

“You know, I realised I never got your number and I was in the neighbourhood so...” 

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t have any time on my phone,” she sniffles then winces. She lowers he eyes and shakes her head, “I’m sorry. I’m... I’m dealing with some stuff.” 

“Oh, I... well, I was in the mood for ice cream--” 

“I can’t--” she snaps and stops herself, slapping her hand across her mouth. Her eyes round through the black iron grating and suddenly she’s staggering. Her leg crumples under her and she lands on her hip with a worrying crash. “Ow!” 

“Oh god,” he exclaims. It’s all his fault. He didn’t think. Why didn’t he think?! “Are you--” He grabs the handle but the outer door is still locked. Whatever. He breaks it easily and reams it open, “are you okay?” 

He drops to his knee and touches her arm. She’s trembling. 

“No,” she babbles as she covers her face with one hand, her other arm shaking as she keeps herself propped up. “No, I’m not okay! I can’t-- I can’t go for ice cream because I can’t-- I can’t walk that far. And I can’t-- I don’t even have two dollars to spend on a scoop—and--”  

He can hear her heart hammering as it all spills out of her. She’s been holding it in for so long, he can feel it roiling off of her. He knows better than anyone she needs this. 

“Please go away!” She keeps her face hidden behind her hand, “I’m a loser. Please. I can’t-- I don’t want you to see me like this.” 

His breath is completely gone. He feels like he’s been punched in the chest. He can’t bear to see her in so much pain. He’s sat and watched for so long. He can’t do it any more, just like she can’t. 

“You’re not... a loser,” he says as he rubs her shoulder, “I don’t think that at all. You’re stronger than anyone I know. You’re stronger than me.” 

“You don’t know me,” she rips her hand away at last, her eyes sparkling with tears and pain. “How would you know?” 

“I can see it. Right now. But you don’t have to hide it. You don’t have to send me away. You don’t have to be embarrassed. You shouldn’t be,” he drawls gently, “you’re not broken.” 

“I am,” she pushes herself to lean forward on her own weight and hangs her head, “I’m all messed up. No one cares about me. They just think I’m a burden. I'm lazy and useless.” 

“I don’t--” 

“You don’t know--” 

“I do,” he insists, “I’ve been where you are. I--” He looks down and retracts his hand. His own heart is pounding.  

He sits back on his heel and unzips his jacket. He slips his hand up his shirt and feels along his chest and shoulders. He finds the release and pushes, hooking his fingers until the weight drops off. His arm lands by his knee with a metallic noise. She gasps. 

“I know you,” he repeats as he watches her, more terrified than he’s ever been. 

[bookishcarmela]

Shadows of Affection

warnings: death, violence

Coriolanus Snow x reader, slight Felix Ravinstill x reader

Chapter 4: Arachne

The news from Dr. Gaul had lifted your spirits as you arrived home early. To your surprise, you found your younger siblings at home. Your mother was engrossed in the television glass of wine in hand, and your siblings, as oblivious as always, were watching the tributes. They pleaded with you to take some food to Lucy Gray, Coriolanus's songbird. Normally, you would have refused, deeming it unnecessary, but the positive mood of the day prompted you to agree

With a sigh, you said, "Alright, we can go. Get whatever you want to take with you." The twins squealed in delight, rushing to gather snacks. You called for Christa to arrange transportation and accompany them to the zoo.

The ride was smooth and quick, and upon arrival, you found a bustling crowd. you spotted some of your classmates, including Festus, and Arachne. Not surprisingly, Coriolanus was there with his songbird, none of them notice you but Coriolanus giving you a surprised look until he saw your younger siblings clinging to your skirt.

Benjamin brought a boiled potato for Lucy Gray but was too afraid to approach the cage. Coriolanus, noticing the situation, winked and waved at Benji, giving him the courage to move forward. You nodded in approval, encouraging Benji to interact with Lucy Gray.

“Did you bring that potato for Lucy Gray?” Coriolanus asked. “Yes. I saved it from dinner. I wanted to eat it, but I wanted to feed her more,” Benji replied. “Go on, then,” Coriolanus encouraged him. “She doesn’t bite. Mind you, use your manners.” you reassured Benji, saying, "Go on, it's alright." Taking a shy step toward the cage, Lucy Gray graciously accepted the potato, treating it as a precious gift.“Well, hey there,” said Lucy Gray. “What’s your name?” “Benjamin,” he said. “I saved you my potato.” “Aren’t you sweet? Should I eat it now or save it?” she asked.

“Now,” he gingerly held it out to her. Lucy Gray took a bite, savoring it with closed eyes, and almost seemed to swoon. “My That’s about the nicest potato I’ve ever seen. Nicest tasting, too. Thank you, Benjamin,” she said. Benji blushed with pride, and you couldn't help but smile a little at the heartwarming interaction between your brother and the tribute.

Coriolanus gave you a thankful look, and you responded with a small smile. He then shifted his gaze with curiosity behind you. Turning your head to see what was happening, you were surprised to find that Arachne had set up a little picnic for her tribute. There was a fresh loaf of bread, a block of cheese, and even grapes. 

You observed as Arachne sliced the cheese with a mother-of-pearl-handled knife. Her tribute, the talkative girl from District 10, sat in front of her, leaning eagerly into the bars. Arachne prepared a thick sandwich but didn't hand it over immediately. It seemed she was delivering a lecture of some sort. At one point, the girl reached through the bars, grinned at the audience, shook her finger at her tribute, offered the sandwich, and then playfully pulled it away, much to the crowd's amusement. 

Lucy Gray commented, "She's playing with fire.”

Arachne waved to the crowd and took a bite of the sandwich herself. you could see the tribute's face darkening, the muscles tightening in her neck. Something else caught my attention; her fingers slid down the bar, darting out, circling the handle of the knife.You opened your mouth attempting to shout out a warning, but it was too late

In one swift movement, the tribute yanked Arachne forward and slit her throat. The crowd's laughter turned to shock, creating a chilling atmosphere. The unexpected turn of events left everyone in stunned silence.

Shrieks came from the audience members nearest to the attack. Arachne’s face drained of color as she dropped the sandwich and clawed at her neck. The blood poured down her fingers as the District 10 girl released her and gave her a small shove.

Everything happened so fast, a chaotic blur unfolding before your eyes. Shrieks pierced the air from the audience members closest to the attack. Arachne's face drained of color as she dropped the sandwich, desperately clawing at her neck. Blood poured down her fingers as the District 10 girl released her, giving a small shove. 

Reacting quickly, you shoved Benjamin into Christa's arms, instructing her to get the kids out of there and home. Arachne, bleeding profusely, stepped back, reaching out with a dripping hand, imploring the audience for help. Stunned or scared, people hesitated to respond, drawing away as she fell to her knees, bleeding out.

Forcing your legs into motion, you were the first to reach Arachne, She clutched your sweater as life seeped out of her. "Medic!" you cried, easing her to the ground. "Is there a doctor? Please, someone help!" you tore off part of your skirt and pressed it to the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. "Come on!" you screamed at the crowd desperately pleading for someone to help Arachne.

 Your voice was hoarse, your eyes stinging with tears threatening to spill. No, not now. This isn't the time, you thought. Arachne, with the little life left in her, said, "Please, Y/n, please. I don't want to die."

Your lips trembled. "You're not going to die, okay? Everything is going to be okay," you assured her. When her breathing stopped abruptly and her eyes became dull, panic set in. "Arachne, no, no, no. Please, come on, wake up. You have to stay awake," you kept muttering to yourself, cradling her in your arms. you knew she was dead, but you just couldn't let her go. 

Festus and Coriolanus were next to you now, exchanging helpless looks. How long had they been there? Why weren't they helping her? Why didn't they call for help? "Y/n," Coriolanus said softly, grabbing your shoulder. "Y/n, she's gone. You have to get up; you're hurt." His hands gently grabbed your face, moving it to look at him. He then moved his hand down to the base of your neck, and you felt a stinging sensation. You could now feel yourself bleeding. When did that happen? How could you not have felt that? It must have been when the Peacekeeper shot the tribute; the bullet must have grazed you without you even knowing.

You remained motionless until the medics finally appeared and lifted Arachne onto a stretcher. Coriolanus helped you up and insisted that the medics check you for further injuries. you swatted them away; you were fine. It was Arachne who wasn't.

Coriolanus pulled you close, checking you himself since you wouldn't let anyone else near you. You wrapped your arms around him, and he reciprocated, laying his head atop Yours and planting a gentle kiss on my temple. "It's okay, Dove. I've got you," he whispered.

"Dove," you thought to yourself. The only people who ever called you that were Dr. Gaul and your father. you hated it when people called you that since Your father passed. He came up with that nickname; it was your thing. You didn't mind Dr. Gaul calling you that; she was almost like a mother to you. But coming from Coriolanus, it just felt right. It calmed and soothed you in a way you hadn't expected.

The soldiers were swarming the place, clearing out the last remnants of the audience and lining up the tributes along the back of the cage with their hands on top of their heads. The peacekeepers gave you two a respectful but firm push toward the exit. You stopped at a water fountain and worked a bit on removing the blood. Neither of you knew what to say.

Arachne hadn't been your favorite person, but she'd always been in your life. The wash of blood, the whiz of bullets, and the screams in the crowd all caused flashbacks to the worst moments of your childhood. Rebel boots pounding through the streets, Arachne and you once pinned down by gunfire, surrounded by dying bodies.You had to play dead among the rest of the bodies until they left, praying they didn't find you. Arachne and you never talked about that day, but it created a shared bond between the two of you. As part of the wealthy old guard of the Capitol, she was family. The bond was a given.

“I couldn’t save her,” you said. “I couldn’t stop the blood.”

“I don’t think anyone could have. At least you tried. That’s what matters,” Coriolanus consoled you. Once you exited the zoo, you kept walking. "Do you want me to walk you home?" Coriolanus asked. "No," you said quickly. Coriolanus gave you a taken-aback look. "No, I mean, I'm not going home. I just can't deal with home right now. I'll find somewhere to go. But you don't have to stay with me. You must be exhausted." Coriolanus thought for a second, taking a deep breath. "You could, uh, you could come home with me if you want," he suggested. you gave him a sad smile and thanked him. As you walked to his apartment, your hands kept touching each other until they finally interlocked. As you approached his apartment, he stopped and looked at you. 

"Corio," you said. "Look, I'm not... we're not, uh..."

"I know," you interrupted him. "It's okay. I won't tell anyone," you assured him. He gave you a look you couldn't read, and continued up the stairs to his apartment. you'd known for a while that the Snows hadn't had money for a while now. Quincy owns almost half the real estate in the city, including the Snows' apartment. Sometimes when he's not looking, You'll hide the paper informing him that the Snows are late on rent. To give them some extra time. 

As you entered his apartment, Coriolanus's grandmother and Tigris were fast asleep. you walk quietly to his bedroom. You settled on his bed as he shut the door and went to freshen up. His room seemed frozen in time, almost identical to how it was during your last visit—about eleven or twelve years ago. It was a time before the war, when your families were close. You used to have countless playdates until the war separated you. After his mother's death, you rarely visited. The funeral marked the last time you saw him before both your fathers perished in the war, and things just changed. 

You were snapped out of your thoughts as Coriolanus handed you some clothes to change into and pointed you to the restroom. His hair was slightly damp, and his shirt clung to him. You tried your best to keep your gaze steady as you took the clothes and made your way to freshen up.

You shed Your bloodstained uniform and stepped into the near-scalding water of the shower, scrubbing away the remnants of Arachne’s blood from your body. For a moment, a painful sob wracked your chest, a mixture of sorrow for her death and frustration over your own life. It passed, leaving you unsure of its origin—perhaps a blend of both.

Once you stepped out, you dressed in the clothes Coriolanus had given you: a white undershirt and blue sleeping pants, two sizes too big. you did your best to dry off with the towel before hanging it back up.

 In Coriolanus's room, you found him deep in thought. When he looked up, his eyes scanned you from head to toe as you came to sit beside him on the bed.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked. "The proposal," he replied. "Surely she wouldn't expect us to have it done by tomorrow after everything that's happened." You sighed wearily. "She would. Dr. Gaul is the type to penalize for missing any deadlines, regardless of the circumstances." He shot you a tired and annoyed look.

"I can help you if you want," I offered. "It's technically cheating because I'm supposed to sort through and approve the proposals tomorrow, but this can be our little secret." Coriolanus perked up at the idea, and you spent hours crafting the perfect proposal together.

Exhausted, you laid down in bed. To your surprise, Coriolanus wrapped his arm around you, holding you close. "Corio," you said with a yawn.

"Hmm," he replied sleepily. "Thank you," you said.He simply held you closer. "Good night, Y/n." "Good night, Corio," you whispered before closing your eyes and letting sleep take you.

[thezombieprostitute]

Unwanted - Part 4

Summary: Your life is no longer yours. You've been forced into becoming a different species of human. Bought and paid for, what can you do but follow orders and obey your Alpha?

Warnings: Allusions to surgery, human trafficking, kidnapping; Angst; Depression; Suicidal thoughts. Let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is described as big & tall, is female. No other descriptors used.

A/N2: This chapter is a bit longer because it's got a fair amount of exposition. Hope it isn't too boring!

Part 3

True to her word, Nat let you stay held as long as you needed. You hadn't realized how touch starved you'd been. You were never much for physical contact before but Dr. Kemp had said that, part of being an Omega was an increased need for it. The yelling between Ari and Steve had either died down or moved elsewhere and you were feeling the need to get up and walk around.

Nat kept hold of your hand as she walked you out of the debriefing area. For someone so much smaller than you, she really had an air of strength that made you feel you could lean on her if you really needed to. Her status as being in charge of the Omegas really made sense.

"We're going to go for a gradual introduction into our community," she tells you when you enter a kitchen area. "You're an unmarked Omega who's hurting and our people are going to be compelled to help you, take care of you. It's a consequence of being a communal species; if you had a personal pack, there'd be less push because you have a trusted circle to take care of you. But since you're unmarked, if you're in trouble, everyone is going to want to help, much like when a child is crying or scared. A gradual introduction will be good so that you don't get overwhelmed and they can remember to restrain themselves. That said, you might still get a lot of unwanted attention. If you tell them 'no' and they still bother you, let me know. You could probably take care of yourself, but your scent indicates you're more the gentle, non-confrontational type."

"That could be the training they put me through," you counter.

She smiles, "your scent is a reflection of yourself, your core personality. It's currently mixed with others that indicate trauma, pain. But the underlying scent stays true."

"What is my scent? No one's ever told me."

"The underlying scent from you is a warm cinnamon, vanilla and brown sugar mixture," she smiles. "You're a real cinnamon roll."

"Huh, no wonder he didn't like it." Nat gives you a confused look. "Ari, when...when he bought me. He said he didn't want me because he didn't like my scent. He really seems the type to prefer spicy over sweet." You say that last part with a half smile, hoping she'll find it funny instead of sad.

She looks angry. "Give me a moment to add this to the list of Ari's bullshit." You nod and she pulls out her phone, typing up a message before putting it away. "He can be such an ass. But, good news, he's not your problem. If you never want to see him again, you won't. I'll make sure of it."

"That's...thank you," is all you can say as you lower your head.

"In the meantime, we've got a small apartment ready for you," she leads you onward. "It's not the nicest, but it's good for transitioning until we can find you a spot in our community. And no," she looks at you pointedly, "that doesn't mean get you a mate. If you find one, that's great. If you don't want one, that's great, too. I genuinely mean a role, a job, or something like that."

You breathe a sigh of relief and nod your understanding. Several hours ago you were resigned to a life as a sex slave, maybe even forced pregnancy. But the more time you spend with Natasha, the more you let yourself be hopeful for something better. No wonder her scent is like a river, providing life giving water while refusing to be stopped.

Stepping outside you look up and freeze. The stars, what few you can see past the lights of the building, are gorgeous. More importantly, they're another reminder of your freedom. And a reminder of all that you lost. You want to break down and cry again, but then Nat gets your attention.

"Hey, hey, look at me," she coos. "There's no way you'll get over this quickly. No one would ever expect you to. But I need you to keep walking with me to your apartment, okay? I don't want you out here too long and getting sick or attracting unwanted attention." You nod and continue walking. "Good news, I made sure your apartment has a skylight so you can keep looking at the stars, the moon, the clouds, even if you don't have the energy to go outside."

"Thank you," you whisper. Right now you can't imagine not wanting to be outside but you find yourself trusting her. Especially her kindness.

She takes you to what looks like a well kept motel. These must be the apartments. Sure enough, some of them have skylights while others don't.

Natasha walks up to one of the doors and hands you a key. "This apartment is meant to be a safe space for you so there's only one key and it will always belong to you."

"What about in case of emergency?"

"We break down the door or crash through a window."

"Fair." You grip the key tightly before turning to the door. You haven't had a space for yourself in so long but you're also worried this is going to be another cell. A much nicer cell, but a cell nonetheless. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you unlock the door and take a few steps inside. It's plain, but not unwelcoming. There's even a small vase with flowers on the table in the living/dining area. It's a decent size for a temporary apartment. It certainly looks nicer than your last one. The one you'll never see again.

As you're turning and looking at things you realize Nat has stayed at the door. "What are you doing?" you ask her.

"You haven't given me permission to enter your space," she says, matter-of-factly.

The hope you've been struggling with grows a little stronger with that.

Part 3

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @lokislady82; @peyton-warren;

@ronearoundblindly ; @startcarvingdarling: @dontbescaredtosingalong

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug on the Jedi in 'The Clone Wars'

Y'all have asked, and Dr. Meat Muffin might be a disgruntled old hag that chugs too much Trader Joe’s bourbon and doodles too much subpar art, but she keeps her promises!

Just so y’all know, if you’re a major character (Anakin, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, etc) you keep your name, because it was drilled into Doug’s head over 8 seasons of Clone Wars and the movies. Everyone else, though, Doug gave up and created his own catchphrases for them.

CW: This one's not as spicy as Doug's previous rants regarding Star Wars, but y'all know if y'all know. "It'll all come out in the wash."

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

Plo Koon: Ah, Shrimp Daddy. He looks like a shrimp that’s been boiled and left in the sun after a potluck. But my wife LOVES him, she says he has the nicest voice and she wishes he’d narrate some books. I loved him too, he was my favorite. That scene where he tells his clone boys in space that they’re important to him? Ah great. They should have him lead HR meetings. 

Aayla Secura: Babe-the-Blue-Jedi. They sent her away from the Temple because Yoda didn’t want that hotness distracting everyone. Is she and Miguel (Bly?!) dating? They are, right? 

Kit Fisto: Reggae Swamp Thing. Tell me that boy don't look like he lives in the Atchafalaya and bangs on the steel drums all day. I wonder if he stole those shorts from Michael Phelps. He’s cool but does he need to have a tank to swim in on his ship? Does he have gills? I need more info on this guy. 

Adi Gallia: Storm’s Cousin. Doesn’t this chick look like her? She does, right? Maybe she's a Jedi cause she can't control the weather. Didn’t Maul’s brother Saul impale her on his horns and that’s how she died?* Why didn’t Maul do that to Obi-Wan? Maul was obsessed with Obi-Wan, do you think it’s because he had a crush on him after he sliced him in half?

(Doug also ships Obi-Wan with Maul now? IS THERE ANYONE WHO DOUG DOESN'T SHIP OBI-WAN WITH?!)

Shaak-Ti: Ahsoka’s Aunt. They’re totally related. (“No, they’re not.” “Says who?” “Um, EVERYONE?!”) She’s cool, nice to the clone boys. I like her horns. 

Saesee Tiin : Angry Bull Boy. He looks like a minotaur whose daddy left him at a Wal-Mart instead of the Labyrinth after drinking too much.

Deepa Billaba: My Coworker Anu. Seriously! She looks JUST LIKE HER. I even texted her a screenshot, and she used that as her Slack Channel picture for the longest time. Nice lady, she's a good master to Lil Kanan. Hm, Lil Kanan sounds like a rap person my niece would listen to.

Ki-Adi-Mundi: Mutant-Mall-Santa. Look me dead ass in the eye and tell me the man don’t look like he was supposed to hand out presents and ask kids what they want for Christmas and ended up hanging out in toxic waste instead. He's a snotty asshole, I don't like him, he thinks the sun comes up just to hear him crow.

Luminara Undali: Lady-in-Drape. She’s a green lady, and she wears a drape. Meat Muffin, I'm tired and it's about to snow.

Barriss Offee: Little Lady-in-Drape. Man, she was awful, but she had good points, ya know? Kind of like Darth Maul. Do you think Darth Maul and Obi-Wan ever dated? Or would Obi-Wan’s boyfriend get jealous? 

Quinlan Voss: College-Hippie-Boy. Doesn’t he just look like one of those goofs that fart around with hackysacks all day long? I'd buy weed from him if he was selling, he looks like an exporter and consumer, if you know what I mean.

Even Piall: Dobby the House Jedi. Man he looks like he was on his way to help Harry Potter or something and ended up in a bathrobe with a light saber. Ah well. 

*= Savage is ‘Saul’ and Feral is ‘Paul’. So it’s Maul, Saul, and Paul. I strained a muscle laughing when I got this. 

Tagging my Redneck Doug stans here! @amalthiaph @sued134 @eyecandyeoz @thecoffeelorian @merkitty49 @megmca @skellymomam I missing anyone?

Let me know if I missed any Jedi, those were the ones that came up that Doug didn't immediately recognize.

[simplyender]

You previously mentioned that Johnathon probably had a less than ideal childhood. If you are still in the mood for headcanons, would you mind sharing your thoughts on his upbringing/childhood/adolscence? The good, the bad, whatever comes to your mind. Thank you! (I wonder if he was still roommates with Quentin Beck in the movieverse)

Thank you so much for asking!!!! Sorry about taking so long to respond, work has been exhausting for me, and I really want to give my best answer, hence why I stew over asks quite a bit, lol

ANYWAY,

• Apparently, The Spot from the comics is originally from Spokane. Yeah, I'll incorporate that one in to my personal beliefs.

• He reads to me as having come from an upper-middle-ish class family.

• Only child, but his parents were frequently busy with their jobs, and when they were around, they didn't exactly have or bother to make the time for him.

• Pretty judgemental parents in general.

• Despite that, he still spent a fair amount of time trying to prove himself worthy of their attention, a difficult task with...Mixed results, mostly leaning towards failure.

• One of my friends was once like "There was definitely a time where he wanted to show them something he made and got snapped at for bothering them.", and yeah I totally agree with that.

• Over time he became more reclusive, spent more time in his room than anywhere else. He preferred reading, learning to code, and working on his own little projects over socializing, something he wasn't all too skilled at. It wasn't like there was much to socialize with at home, anyways, considering he would either be ignored or treated like a nuisance a solid 90% of the time.

• This was a double edged sword, though, since he'd also been yelled at for "being in his room all the time" a few times.

• Was used as a scapegoat quite often.

• After a certain point he moved on to trying to get his validation through other means. High grades, impressive science projects, plans to become a scientist and making the biggest damn breakthrough ever seen, do something that will change the world forever. Because then nobody could ignore him or treat him like he's less if he managed that.

• But obviously they're not the worst in his mind because they helped pay for college, so,,,,,,

edit: actually thought about this some more and he probably got a scholarship. oops lol idk high academics.

• Saw the 1933 Invisible man at a young age and absolutely loved it, he spent a short period of time trying to figure out how to make himself invisible, and kind of wished that dr. Jack Griffin was his real dad and that also maybe he'd kill his parents, healthy and not worrying thoughts from a probably 8 year old. It's been around 25+ years since then, but he'd still get seriously embarrassed if somebody brought up his old attempts.

• Had a massive growth spurt in his early teenage years, which automatically put a target on his back for even more bullying.

• Started experimenting with his fashion and putting some more work in to his appearance close to the end of high school. Still sucked at keeping up with haircuts and remembering to shave, though.

• Was probably at his peak in college, honestly. Nicest place he's been in. Least bullying he's experienced. He even made a friend or two!

• IMO he was totally roommates with Quentin in this universe too, they were on different tracks, but all in all, they got along pretty well! John was happy to help him with with whatever he was working on, although, John mostly kept his personal stuff to himself (still appreciated the extra hand with carrying things...), or at least tried to. Whether he was listened to or not is another matter entirely. When they collaborated, they were a real dream team. Unfortunately, they kinda fell out of contact after college, so it was a pretty big surprise to John when Mysterio got caught and it was released that his old college roommate had become a supervillain.

....Which only further entrench him in the "I'm meant to be Spider-Man's nemesis" mindset, by the way.

[ssaflorencem]

The thrill of killing you| BAU x unsub reader

Warnings: This chapter briefly mentions Spencers drug addiction. Towards the end there is the illusion to smut (that will be the next chapter). This chapter makes it seem the BAU team are just as bad as the reader.

Summary: The reader talks about what they know how the team, and follows them to a bar.

Chapter four: The narcissist

I know I said I wasn’t going to leave anything at the crime scenes, but the FBI are letting me get away with what I am doing far too easily, and I can’t let an innocent person get put away for the crimes I have committed. Also, I’ve heard stories of SSA Aaron Hotchner and Dr Spencer Reid. They aren’t innocent men, are they? I heard what Mr Hotchner did to that man who killed his wife, and well Spencer, he’s spent time in prison, and he’s made friends with someone like me.

 

I knew it wouldn’t be too long till they were on my case, I mean some of my friends had been trying to kill someone on their team. Miss Garcia, the smart, computer nerd. She’s the one who solves the majority of the cases, but everyone else takes credit. I kind of feel bad for her, I mean she was once on the right side of justice, but then she joined the FBI. Miss Prentiss, she once worked with, well actually dated, someone who was once in the IRA, so she doesn’t have the best track record either really. Mrs Jareau, someone who was once a media liaison and then got taken away from the FBI to a war zone. Mr Rossi, the man with so many ex-wives and a racist past, who fought in a war and helped create the BAU, not much to be said about him. And finally, Mr Alvez. He’s my favourite, war veteran, with a love for his dogs. He seems like the nicest out of all of them, I wish he wasn’t in love with Garcia.

 

All of them think they are better than me, what because they work for the law. But how many people have they killed because they have been certain they have committed terrible crimes. They all have troubled pasts, and that’s what led them to join the BAU. But so did I, and so did basically everyone I knew, but none of them joined a government agency and none of us had ever killed someone who was innocent.

 

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that they were all just hypocrites. They were supposed to be the ones upholding the law, but they were just as flawed and twisted as the criminals they were trying to take down.

 

Though I liked paying cat and mouse, I was going to take a break from killing for a while, just so they wouldn’t catch me before I wanted them too. I also wasn’t worried about them trying to connect me about my job, like they did with Cat Adams, because unlike her I thoroughly screen the people asking for my help.

 

For my time off, I went to Washington. I needed to keep a close eye on them, I mean I knew them, but they had no idea who I was. I saw they would visit this bar regularly; it was cute to watch them all sit around a table and drink, share jokes, and laughs like they weren’t all killers.

 

As I observed them, I noticed something interesting. Dr Reid was always the quiet one, the observer, the thinker. He would take in everything that was happening around him, like he was seeing through people's masks and into their true selves.

 

Then, I saw SSA Hotchner enter the bar, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on the table where his team sat. He walked over to them, his demeanour serious, and they all seemed to straighten up in their seats. It was like they knew he was the boss, the one who held all the power.

 

But as I watched them, I realized something else. They were a family, dysfunctional and flawed, but a family, nonetheless. They had each other's backs, no matter what. It was nice, sometimes I wished I had a team like that, but I knew I worked better on my own.

 

I continued to watch them, intrigued. They were all so different, yet they worked together seamlessly. They were all intelligent and skilled in their own ways, but Dr Reid stood out to me. There was something about him that drew me to him, something vulnerable, something broken. I wondered what it was that had led him down the path he had taken.

 

I knew his basic history, his troubled mother, his absent father, the bullying he had faced and how he had then lost his only other father figure, Jason Gideon. But I wanted to know about him.

 

I decided to approach Dr Reid. I knew he was smart, but I didn’t expect him to see through my disguise so quickly. He looked at me with his beautiful brown hazel eyes, I knew he was sizing me up.

 

“What can I do for you?” he asked, his voice calm and measured.

 

“Are you Dr Reid, I know this may seem creepy, but I saw you standing here I couldn’t believe it, so I’m just making sure it’s you.” I said with a soft smile.

 

“I am indeed. What’s your name?” He asked in a neutral tone.

 

I hesitated for a moment. I knew I had to be careful. “My name is Emily.”

 

“Well, Emily, what exactly can I do for you?” He asked with a smile, well more like a smirk.

 

“I wanted to talk to you about your work with the BAU. I’ve read some of your papers, and I think you are pretty amazing” I said, hoping to gain his trust.

 

Dr Reid raised an eyebrow in suspicion, but he didn't seem to be hostile towards me. "Thank you. But what do you want to know exactly?" he asked, his gaze never leaving mine.

 

"I'm just curious about the work you do, the cases you solve. I find it fascinating, and I thought it would be great to pick your brain a little," I said, trying to sound as friendly as possible.

 

Dr Reid gave me a small smile, and I could see the gears turning in his head. "I see. Well, I can't talk about ongoing cases, but I'm happy to chat about the work we do in general," he said, his tone polite.

 

I nodded eagerly, feeling a rush of excitement. Dr Reid was actually talking to me, and I could feel a strange connection forming between us. "That's great. So, what's the most challenging case you've worked on so far?"

 

Dr Reid's face grew serious as he thought back on his experiences. "There have been many challenging cases, but the ones that stick with me the most are the ones involving children. It's heart-breaking to see the amount of suffering they go through and the pain it causes their families," he said, his eyes filled with sadness.

 

I nodded, feeling a pang of sympathy for him. "That must be tough," I said, my voice soft.

 

He looked at me, his expression curious. "Why are you interested in this? Are you a student of some kind?"

 

I shook my head, trying to keep my composure. "No, I just find it fascinating. The human mind and what drives people to do the things they do," I said, hoping he wouldn't see through my lies.

 

Dr Reid continued to study me, his gaze piercing as he tried to determine my true intentions. I could feel my heart racing in my chest, wondering if he could sense my true nature.

 

Finally, he seemed to relax slightly, nodding in understanding. "I can certainly understand the fascination. It's a complex and often troubling field, but one that can also be incredibly rewarding," he said, his tone thoughtful.

 

I smiled, relieved that he didn't seem to suspect anything. "Exactly. I've always been drawn to the darker side of things, I suppose," I said, trying to sound casual.

 

Dr Reid's expression grew more serious, and he leaned in slightly. "Be careful with that kind of fascination. It's easy to get lost in the darkness, and it can be hard to find your way back," he said, his voice low.

 

I couldn't help but be intrigued by Dr Reid's warning. It was like he knew something about me that even I didn't know.

 

"I'll keep that in mind," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

 

Dr Reid nodded and leaned back, seeming to relax once again. We continued to chat for a while, discussing various cases and theories about criminal behaviour. I found myself drawn to his intelligence and passion for his work. It was like he could see right through me, like he knew my every thought and desire.

 

As we talked, I couldn't help but feel a growing attraction towards him. There was something about his vulnerability and his intelligence that made me want to know him more intimately. I knew I should be careful, but the pull was too strong. I had to have him.

 

 

I could see the desire in his eyes as he spoke, the way he looked at me with a mix of curiosity and intensity. It was like he was trying to figure me out, to understand me on a deeper level.

 

I knew I had to make my move. "Hey, do you want to get out of here?" I asked, my voice low and seductive.

 

Dr Reid looked at me, his expression unreadable. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice cautious.

 

"I mean, do you want to come back to my hotel room with me?" I said, my hand reaching out to touch his arm.

 

Dr Reid pulled back slightly; his eyebrows furrowed in concern. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. I hardly know you," he said, his voice hesitant.

 

I leaned in closer, my lips almost touching his ear. "You know me enough. Trust me, it'll be worth it," I whispered, my hand sliding down his arm.

 

Dr Reid hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between my face and my hand on his arm. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the desire warring with caution.

 

Finally, he made his decision. "Alright," he said, his voice low.

 

I grinned triumphantly, leading him out of the bar and towards my hotel room. As we walked, I could feel his eyes on me, studying me intently. It was like he was trying to figure me out, to understand the darkness that lay within me.

————————————————————————–

Taglist:

@marvelwoman-sugarbaby

@ellieslver

[historicity-was-already-taken]

i have this excerpt from Notes from the Warsaw Ghetto: The Journal of Emmanuel Ringelblum printed and framed

Like, I paid an etsy seller to print it for me on the nicest cardstock with the best ink, and then I waited in line and paid a stupid amount of money to have it framed at the Michael's custom framing counter. And I have zero regrets. I've probably posted this excerpt here before but I don't care. It is everything.

The heroic girls, Chajke and Frumke—they are a theme that calls for the pen of a great writer. Boldly they travel back and forth through the cities and towns of Poland. They carry “Aryan” papers identifying them as Poles or Ukrain­ians. One of them even wears a cross, which she never parts with except when in the Ghetto. They are in mortal danger every day. They rely entirely on their “Aryan” faces and on the peasant kerchiefs that cover their heads. Without a mur­mur, without a second’s hesitation, they accept and carry out the most dangerous missions. Is someone needed to travel to Vilna, Bialystok, Lemberg, Kowel, Lublin, Czestochowa, or Radom to smuggle in contraband such as illegal publica­tions, goods, money? The girls volunteer as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Are there comrades who have to be rescued from Vilna, Lublin, or some other city?— They undertake the mission. Nothing stands in their way, nothing deters them. Is it necessary to become friendly with engineers of German trains, so as to be able to travel beyond the frontiers of the Government General of Poland, where people can move about with special papers? They are the ones to do it, simply, without fuss, as though it was their pro­fession. They have traveled from city to city, to places no delegate or Jewish institution had ever reached, such as Wolhynia, Lithuania. They were the first to bring back the tidings about the tragedy of Vilna. They were the first to offer words of encouragement and moral support to the sur­viving remnant of that city. How many times have they looked death in the eyes? How many times have they been arrested and searched? Fortune has smiled on them. They are, in the classic idiom, “emissaries of the community to whom no harm can come.” With what simplicity and modesty have they reported what they accomplished on their journeys, on the trains bearing Polish Christians who have been pressed to work in Germany! The story of the Jewish woman will be a glorious page in the history of Jewry during the present war. And the Chajkes and Frumkes will be the leading figures in this story. For these girls are indefatigable. Just back from Czestochowa, where they imported contraband, in a few hours they’ll be on the move again. And they’re off without a moment’s hesitation, without a minute of rest.

He only namechecks Chaike Grossman and Frumka Plotnicka here, but I can tell you for a fact that he's also referring to Tossia Atlman, Tema Schneiderman, and Lonka Kozybrodska. At least.

So far the count of Jewish women (that I'm aware of) who have responded to "They are a theme that calls for the pen of a great writer" with a book (or long-planned book) are three: me, Dr. Lenore Weitzman (who won't return any of my emails) and Judith Batalion (who did return my emails, had lunch with me, and told me that Dr. Weitzman wouldn't respond to her emails either). I hope more Jewish women--in and out of the academe--continue to take up this call, and I hope they keep getting published and aren't rejected because it's "too similar" to mine and Batalion's. No like seriously like two months after I signed with my agent, and one month after I got my book deal, I received a rejection from a lit agent saying that my book was "too similar" to Batalion's. Ok first of all it's not. I read Batalion's the day it came out, and they're very different books with very different focuses, goals, and approaches; the only thing they have in common is that they're both about this underserved, underappreciated group of amazing women. There SHOULD be multiple books about each and every one of them. There SHOULD be multiple books about one day Tossia spent in Vilna. Every white man who looked sideways at WW2 and the American Civil War have like, 87 terrible books dedicated to them, and I DEMAND at least 3 for each of these women. And 17 for Queen Zivia. (Who does have a biography, written by Bella Gutterman). Plus a biopic. So this post went in a direction.

tl;dr:

[romeoandjulietyouwish]

Not the Same Moon (Chapter 3)

read on ao3

There were a lot of things that Darry kept secret from his brothers and his friends. They didn’t know how close he was to graduating and they didn’t need to. They didn’t need to know that he still answered phone calls from college friends and mourned what could have been. And they especially didn’t need to know where he was going that night.

Normally, the three brothers kept tabs on each other. 

After the accident, Darry got real nervous when he didn’t know where they were. Pony hated it, but Soda was good about it. They always told someone where they were going when they were leaving. That night, Darry lied.

Darry put his polo shirt into his bag, shoving it deep down and instead up on a ragged old t-shirt. He put on his nicest pair of shoes and jeans and combed his hair. With a glance in the mirror, he saw the man he used to be. He didn’t look like a guardian of two teenagers who was always working. He looked like a college student, about to hang out with his buddies.

Darry walked out of his room and towards the front door. In the living room, all the boys were playing a game of cards on the coffee table. Soda grinned up at him from the floor, “Hey, Dar! I can deal you in if you want?”

Darry waved him off, “I’m heading out.”

Ponyboy gave him a look, “You have plans? With who?”

“Yeah,” Steve chimed in, “we’re all right here.”

Darry rolled his eyes, “Contrary to what you think, I do have friends other than y’all.”

“I call bullshit,” Two-Bit said. Two-Bit looked him up and down and then smirked, “He’s goin’ on a date.”

Pony looked at Darry with wide eyes, “You are?”

“No, I ain’t,” he said definitively. “I’m just meeting up with Tim Shepard, said he had something he wanted to talk about.” 

“A rumble?” The question came from Dally, far too eagerly for Darry’s liking.

Darry shook his head, “Nah, nothing like that, just some gang business. I might be back late.” He pointed a finger at his brother, “Soda, make sure that Pony goes to bed at a reasonable time, savvy?”

“I savvy,” Soda nodded. His eyes darted to Darry’s jeans and shoes and something flickered across his face. “Have a goodnight.”

Darry nodded at the group and left. He could feel everyone’s eyes on his back.

Darry met Paul in the parking lot of the high school. 

The two of them had been close before graduation. Hell, Darry had even slept over at his house once or twice. Other than Two-Bit, Paul had been Darry’s best friend. After graduation, they kept in touch. While Darry left the city, Paul ended up going to college right in Tulsa. They called every so often and caught up. Darry even got him tickets to a few Sooners games. 

He knew the guys never liked that he was friendly with socs. They would have liked it even less to know he was hanging out with Paul while being the de facto leader of their gang. But when Darry was in college, he realized there was a lot more to life than the petty bullshit of greasers and socs. Friends were friends. And despite everything, Paul was Darry’s.

So he met up with his old soc friends every so often. It wasn’t a big deal. As he drove, Darry changed his shirt to the polo he stuffed in his bag. When he pulled up next to Paul’s Cadillac, he looked more like a soc than he had in a long time. 

Paul grinned as Darry jumped out and shook his hand. “Hey, Curtis.” Paul looked as handsome as ever, clean madras shirt and khaki pants. By his feet, there was a six pack of beer. One was already open in Paul’s hand. 

Darry smiled, “How’ve you been?” 

Paul shrugged and handed Darry an uncapped beer. They both took a swig as they leaned against their cars. “It’s been busy lately. I’m working at my dad’s firm this semester for extra credit.”

Darry raised his eyebrows, “I remember him saying he’d let you into his firm when his body was cold.”

The two of them chuckled. Paul shrugged, “I guess the old man changed his mind.”

“Cheers to that,” Darry held out his bottle and the two of them clinked together.

Paul took a drink. “I know you’re working at the Dingo and doing construction,” Darry didn’t like the way Paul said it. It was the same way his brothers said peas and broccoli. Darry had to grit his teeth and remember something his dad tried real hard to get him to remember, there’s no shame in working a blue collar job.

Yet, it was hard to feel that way when he was with the socs. He doubted any of them had ever gotten a callous.

Paul continued, “But if you’re thinking of switching it up, my dad’s looking for some extra help around the office.”

Darry’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “You’re not serious.”

Paul smiled and shrugged, “Why not? I know you’re a good guy, Darrel. It was bullshit that you had to drop out of school to take care of your brothers.” He lightly shoved Darry’s shoulder. “You and I both know that you could have made it so far.” Darry fought back a flinch. “So take the job and get your life back on track.”

Darry took a long, long drink of his beer. “Well that’s something you don’t hear every day.”

Paul chuckled, “So what do you think?” 

That was a good question. His mind was going in two different directions at once. What would his brothers think? What would his friends think? But most of all, what kind of brother would he be if said no?

Office jobs paid more, the hours were better. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had two days off in a row. And with extra cash, he would be able to buy Pony new shoes for track and maybe get Soda into a mechanics class at the community college. There would be extra food in the fridge for all the boys.

“I think that only an idiot wouldn’t take it.” Darry smiled and held his hand out to Paul. 

Paul shook his hand, “I’ll call you later and give you all the details. This is a really good move for you, man, you won’t regret it.”

Darry laughed, “If I do, we both know I can still beat you in a fight.”

Paul rolled his eyes. When it was just the two of them, it really was fun to be around Paul. Sometimes it was nice to hang out and shoot shit without worrying about being a greaser or a soc. In the empty parking lot with a pack of beer, they were just Paul and Darry. 

Back at the house, the game night had progressed significantly. The floor was a mess with soda cans, beer bottles, and all kinds of snacks. It felt like the other guys had been yelling for hours, Pony was just watching and chiming in when he felt like it. Ponyboy was usually quiet and he enjoyed watching everyone’s faces.

He knew Johnny had had a rough week so it was nice to see him laugh and sass Two and Dally. Pony tried to remember his expression so he could draw it later.

“You’re cheating!” Dally exclaimed suddenly. 

Ponyboy turned to face Dally just as he threw his hand of cards in Soda’s face. His brother had the gall to look shocked, despite the fact that Pony could clearly see cards tucked in his sock. 

“Well you’re a sore loser,” Soda shot back as he gathered the cards up to deal again. 

Ponyboy smiled to himself as Steve reached over to snag the cards from Soda’s sock and add them to the deck. It was so nice to just hang out with the gang and play cards. For a little bit it felt like life before the accident and before Darry came home.

The six of them would sit around the living room and play cards, betting with dimes and candy and whatever else they could find in their pockets. His parents loved it. They’d help Pony and Johnny cheat one minute and turn on them the next. There was always chips and sodas and cake. Even if Ponyboy had a shitty day, poker nights with the gang always turned it around.

It was different when Darry played. He’d been gone so long, it was almost like he didn’t fit. Something just felt off. Like a puzzle with an extra piece. Plus Ponyboy would get in his head, just waiting for Darry to find something to yell at him about. It was better if he wasn’t there.

So with Darry off with Tim Shepard, they got to play like normal.

Pony leaned over to Johnny, who had amassed the biggest pile in front of him. “Can you spot me for the next round?” Johnny looked at the pile in front of Pony. All he had was two pennies, a half used pencil, and a strawberry candy.

Johnny scoffed, “Ain’t no chance.”

Ponyboy was about to turn the same plea to Sodapop when Dally piped up, “Horsekid is on my team. I can’t lose any worse.” In front of Dally was a slightly larger pile of change, mostly pennies, and a couple random objects.

“We’re doin’ teams?” Soda said excitedly. He threw an arm around Steve’s shoulders and squished him into his side. “I call Stevie.” Steve elbowed him in the ribs goodnaturedly and shoved him away.

“Nuh uh,” Two-Bit cut in. “Y’all’ll only cheat worse. Steve’s with me and Soda’s with Johnnycakes.”

Johnny rolled his eyes, “So you’re sticking me with the cheater ‘cuz I’m winning?”

“Damn straight,” Dally cackled and pulled Pony’s winnings into his pile. Pony laughed and moved from the floor to sit on the couch next to Dally. Everyone else moved to sit next to their partners. Soda hooked an arm around Johnny’s shoulders and ruffled his hair. 

As the only one without sticky fingers, Ponyboy dealt out the cards. Soon everyone was looking at their hands and conferring with their partners. Dally and Pony leaned their heads together. 

When they were kids, Darry was always on Ponyboy’s team. It didn’t matter if it was football, basketball, or cards. That meant there was a void when he left for college. To everyone’s surprise, it was Dallas that stepped up to fill it. 

When Darry got home, he heard raucous laughter coming from inside. Instead of walking in, Darry just stood on the porch and listened. Above all of the others, he could hear Pony’s laugh. That was the sound that made his heart ache.

Ponyboy hated him, he knew that. Darry used to weep about it. Then it became just a fact of life. The sky was blue and Ponyboy hated him.

When he peered through the window, Darry saw Dally and Ponyboy sitting on the couch. Dally’s arm was slung around Pony’s shoulders casually. It was the same casual way that Dally treated Johnny. Since Darry returned to Tulsa, he’d noticed the change in Dally and Ponyboy. Pony looked up to Dally in the same way he once looked up to Darry. 

According to Two, Dally stepped up when Darry left. He’d taken Pony under his wing in a way. Darry didn’t like it one bit, but he couldn’t very well say anything. Not without Pony hating him even more.

The front door opened and closed and Two-Bit was standing beside him. As usual, there was a bottle dangling from his fingers. Darry looked over at him. “I’m going inside in a second.”

Two-Bit nodded and then itched his nose, “You should change your shirt first.” 

Darry looked down and saw that he was still wearing the polo shirt. He swore under his breath and tugged it off. Once he was back wearing his t-shirt, he looked at Two-Bit sheepishly. 

“Keith-”

Two-Bit shook his head, “You don’t gotta explain. I’m pretty sure I know exactly who you were with and it wasn’t Tim Shepard.” Two-Bit took a long drink. “Why did you lie?”

Darry scoffed, “Do you really think it would go over well if Dally or Steve knew I was with Paul? Ponyboy already hates me enough-”

“No, he fucking doesn’t.”

Darry pinched the bridge of his nose, he really didn't want to be having this conversation right now. “I don’t need them thinking I’m being a traitor for getting a drink with a soc.” Darry crossed his arms over his chest uncomfortably. “He’s my friend.”

Two-Bit nodded with a serious look on his face, “Well the rest of your friends are inside playing cards. You can join us if you want.”And with that, Two-Bit ducked back inside. 

Darry curled his hands into fists. He kicked the tire of his truck as hard as he could.

[1moreff-creator]

Thank you DRDT crew!

Even though I’ve only been a fan for a short time compared to others, the amount of love I have for this series is hard to put into words. It has slowly grown to be my favorite DR-related media of all time, for a multitude of reasons. Everything about it is remarkably impressive, and I just wanted to say thank you for bringing us such an amazing experience.

I got into DRDT through Weeby Newz’ streams. I had just finished binge watching her SDRA2 streams, but this “Danganronpa Despair Time” one looked interesting. Especially because I kept seeing a video by Ocean Unknown popping up in my recommended, which said something about “David’s reveal”. So I decided to watch those vods too.

Fast-forward a binge watch, and… I was in love. It didn’t even register how attached I’d gotten to every single character, and how intrigued I was to see how everything would play out.

I absolutely wouldn’t have started a Tumblr blog without DRDT. But now I have, and it’s been one of the most fun experiences I’ve had in fandom. So, from the bottom of my heart:

Thank You!

Thank you for the dedication to do such a long and arduous project!

Thank you for the beautiful art! I’ve always been a fan of DRDT’s unique style, and those animations always take my breath away, no matter how many times I see them.

Thank you for all the amazing characters you’ve brought to life! I love them all so much, I could thank you for each one individually.

… So I will.

•Thank you for Teruko! Because she’s one of my favorite protagonists from anything ever, as her intriguing and complex personality is always a joy to analyze.

Also, uh, thank you for the prosopagnosia rep. I probably have that too, but I would have never found out without DRDT. It really explained a lot about my life, so it can be said this series has changed me forever :D

•Thank you for Xander! It’s refreshing to see a character like him being so important to the story, with so many mysteries still surrounding him!

•Thank you for Charles! Because this nerd is one of the most likable and enjoyable characters I’ve seen in any fangan.

•Thank you for Ace! Because he manages to be both very funny and very interesting and complex whenever needed.

•Thank you for Arei! It’s always nice to see a ‘mean’ character with such well thought out motivations and such drive to change.

•Thank you for Rose! Her attitude always makes me feel calm when I think about her, and I’m really interested in seeing where her character and themes are going to go.

•Thank you for Hu! Another one I’m really intrigued by, I can’t wait to know more about her!

•Thank you for Eden! For showing that even “the nice one” characters can have depth and complexity. Also representation win, the nicest girl ever is a lesbian!

•Thank you for Nico! They are so, so interesting. I feel like I’m overusing the word “intriguing”, but they really are so fun to think about. Also representation win for the enbies! Love to see it.

•Thank you for Whit! Because he’s funny, and interesting, and there’s definitely something wrong with him it’s nice to have a character that doesn’t have any big issues :D

Just kidding! The reason I love DRDT so much is that everyone gets to be a little fucked up, as a treat!

And representation win! The coolest guy ever is bisexual!

•Thank you for J! She’s funny and cool and- you guessed it, intriguing. I am running that word to the ground, but it’s true for everyone!

•Thank you thank you thank you for Veronika!!! She’s so great. She’s fantastic. She always brings a smile to my face, she’s so perfect in every way shape and form. God I love her so much, I want her to go as insane as her crazy little heart desires. And more representation! Sorta jealous of the pansexuals who got this freak (affectionate).

•Thank you for David! How can a character be so complex, that you look at Literature Girl Insane and decide it needs more literary references to properly convey them? Well, David’s the answer, and geez. He’s just so fantastically written, it’s incredible. Another big win for the bisexual community imo.

•Thank you for Levi! He’s really cool, and everything about him is interesting.

•Thank you for Arturo! Because as much of a weirdo as he can be, his entire character is just really, really interesting.

•Thank you for MonoTV! Because it’s funny and its personality has to be one of the most unique I’ve ever seen for mascot characters.

•Thank you for Mai! I mean, who?

•Thank you for Unnamed Classmate! Because they’re really nice and I can’t wait to see where they go.

And of course…

•Thank you, so much, for Min! She may very well be my favorite character from anything ever. Everything about how she’s written is phenomenal, her personality and struggles are so well developed, I could gush about her for hours! She means so much to me, I can’t properly describe how in love I am with her.

Thank you for the laughs! From the arm wrestling scene, Charles getting obliterated by MonoCredits, “milk tastes good”, Teruko tripping over Nico… Not to mention the greatest joke ever conceived: the bathroom investigation. I laughed for a solid minute or two when I first watched it, just replaying the funniest thing ever on loop.

The Q&As were also really funny, and I never really had an issue with the way the were written. I fully understand and support if you decide not to do them ever again, but they were fun while they lasted. From Nico’s favorite ice cream flavor being “the flavor”, to us forgetting people can have friends aside from Mai I mean who, all the way to that time you directed us to inform ourselves on what a pant pocket is.

Thank you for the tears! Because I still can’t watch Min’s final hug without my chest hurting, a lot. Even some of the frames from the Sleepy MV, that beautiful piece of art, get me to tear up just looking at them.

Thank you for the mysteries! From the murders which are really fun to theorize about, to everything related to Mai Akasaki and the multiple source code secrets. And don’t even get me started on the LGI MV, that insanity (affectionate) has been eating at my brain ever since it released. Everything about it is fantastic, even the things we still haven’t solved.

Where’s footnote 8, dev?! Did you put it in your pant pockets?! (/j)

Also, tangentially, thanks for introducing me to the LGI album. It’s a really good album ^^

Thank you for the research you’ve put into everything! Things like Ace’s talent causing his eating disorder are really appreciated, they show a genuine care and love for the project.

Thank you for all the little details you might think no one notices, but that we love to see! Things like the first Nonstop Debate ending in perjury, Teruko listing Xander as one of the people whose secret was unrevealed, David’s eyes being different in his genuine breakdowns to his little thing in Ep 11, strychnine not being listed with the other custom weapons because Charles made the list, the note Xander received having a proper full message which has been obscured (I can only make out “it is” at the bottom, but it’s clear the message is there), the charm on Teruko’s thing-that’s-probably-a-MonoPad-but-may-be-something-else being the same as Unnamed Classmate’s phone charm, all the interesting details in the character profiles, among so many other things.

This also includes details revealed on Q&As. Arei being ambidextrous, Teruko liking “girly” clothing, Xander having a weak sense of taste, Ace having 9 siblings, Veronika’s earring being related to a friend, all the favorite and least favorite colors and ice cream flavors. As well as the few things we know about people like Felicity and Elliot that made the community fall in love with them for no apparent reason. It just makes them all seem so human!

Thank you to the voice actors, as well! They’ve all done such an amazing job, no exceptions! In particular, Veronika’s unhinged laughter, the dialogue after Ace’s almost murder, Min’s last words, David’s speech post the “guilty as charged” incident… but it’s all fantastic, all the characters are voiced really well.

And thank you for so much more! If I kept going, this post would never end. DRDT just means more to me than any finite number of words could ever convey. Without your work, the days pass by tastelessly /ref. So, one last time for the road:

Thank you for everything!

(God I love the Sleepy MV so much. It’s so pretty!!!)

[skittlesfics]

Flufftober Day 1 – Wearing each other’s clothes Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader Word Count: 2025 Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of extreme loneliness, brief alcohol mention but no usage Author's Note: Playing catch-up now that I have some time. This was supposed to be a drabble oops, but it is by far one of my favorite things I've ever written for Steve. See the full prompt list for flufftober here. Still accepting requests for who to write for each day! -

Steve’s favorite day of the week had gradually shifted from Friday to Saturday over the past year. Friday had been the night for parties, the night for first dates, the night for drives out to lover’s lake, the night for cold beers by the pool, and the night for whispered promises (lies) to push back the heartache. That had all changed, though, along with his friend group and his definition of a good time. Now Saturday was his favorite day of the week, because Saturday was movie night.

It wasn’t that he cared so much about what movies the group actually watched (okay he did care. A lot.) Nor was it the fact that you always brought some exciting new snack or baked good for everyone to try. No, instead it was the fact that Saturday nights were the only time that the museum that was the Harrington house actually felt like a home.

The halls were more vibrant, more warm. The pristine couches (not so pristine after Dustin spilled his Dr Pepper, but that was fine. Steve’s parents would never spend enough time in the room to notice anyway) actually felt comfortable for once. Steve could finally feel at ease with the beautiful cacophony of voices bouncing off the walls, never quite quieting down enough to actually hear the movie. He could feel like he had a real family.

That was why it always hit him so hard when it was over. Every movie had an ending, and half the group had curfews that had somehow become solely Steve’s responsibility to make. You would hang back to clean up while he drove everyone else home, but then you, too, would go. Then the silence would return, and then the cold, and then the loneliness.

Steve couldn’t do that, not tonight. Not when his parents had already been gone for two weeks, with two more to go, and he hadn’t quite been able to schedule any dates to fill the void since the day you had kissed him on the cheek in thanks for something that didn’t need a thanks at all.

When he came back from dropping off the kids, you were humming softly to yourself, picking individual M&Ms from the plush carpet where they had been left to get crushed underfoot after a particularly vicious snack preference disagreement.

Steve smiled at your back, wondering if you had any idea just how wonderful you were, or if that was a fact just for him. Like how pretty you looked when you were embarrassed, or how raspy your voice sounded when you woke up at 4am to keep a lonely Steve company on the phone.

He swallowed that thought, a mix of affection and his usual melancholy at war in his chest. This house didn’t want Steve to have nice things, and your affection was one of the nicest things around.

“Hey, Stevie, I was thinking…”

He was so lost in his reverie that he didn’t notice you stand up, the plush carpet swallowing your footsteps when you approached him. You were just suddenly there and he nearly jumped out of his skin. It was worth the embarrassment when you laughed, reaching out to grab his arm and squeeze. You could scare him all you wanted, if it made you laugh like that.

“Thinking’s dangerous, babe.” He quipped, hiding behind a lopsided grin. You wrinkled your nose and rolled your eyes and he prided himself at his own force of will. It took everything not to kiss you right there, and if he were a weaker man, or perhaps a smarter man, he would’ve done it anyway.

“Oh, shut up. I was thinking,” You continued, your eyes narrowing into a glare, daring him to interrupt, “That I might stay the night tonight, keep you company in person.”

There were no words for the warm melty feeling in Steve’s chest, the way his heart ached and yearned and was content all at once. Or perhaps it was just that the words felt too big for his mouth, too scary to vocalize lest you not feel the same. Instead, he pulled you into a smothering hug, dropping an affectionate kiss to the crown of your head with an urgency he hoped you understood.

“Please.” Was all he could manage, his voice thick with emotion. He wasn’t going to cry, not over a sleepover, but damn if he didn’t come close. He hadn’t wanted to ask, knowing that your parents were out of town, in case you had other plans. The loneliness of his house was unbearable, but the rejection would be worse. This was… perfect.

When you managed to wrestle your way out of his steel grasp, you were laughing, shoving at his arms when he reached for you again. This quickly turned into him chasing you around the living room, your high-pitched shrieks echoing in the empty house as you tried to evade his affectionate embrace. You were fast but he was faster. It was his house, after all, and he was an athlete. You moved to jump over the back of the couch and he grabbed you by the waist, rolling with you so that you were both laying on the couch, your body pressed against his.

You were laughing, breathless, and when you opened your eyes to look at Steve’s face, he was lost.

There was something so effortless about being happy around you. Something so natural about having you around that his general ennui didn’t stand a chance. How could it, when a pretty girl that knew him well enough to offer to keep him company late on a Saturday night was smiling at him, noses nearly touching, eyes wide and bright…

He should have kissed you then. Should have been less of a coward. Steve wasn’t an idiot, he knew what that look meant on a girl’s face, when your eyes flickered down to his lips and then back to his face. He knew that he wanted to kiss you. In fact, he had never wanted anything more than to crush you into his chest and kiss you silly in that moment. But he didn’t.

Instead, he used his grip on your sides to tickle you and you screeched, rolling sideways off the couch, laughter spilling from your lips as you finally escaped his grasp and fled to the other side of the coffee table.

“You’re the worst, Steve Harrington.” You joked. He knew you didn’t mean it, not with the smile still curving your lips and the laughter you couldn’t keep out of your voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve been called worse.” He shrugged, sitting up, “Let’s get you ready for bed before you cause any more trouble.”

“Me?!” You scoffed, arms crossing indignantly. Steve hummed and stood, gesturing towards the stairs with a nod of his head.

“Yes, you. I bet you didn’t even bring a t-shirt. You can pick one from my drawer.”

You narrowed your eyes at his deflection, but still followed him up to his bedroom, flipping off the lights as you left each part of the house. Steve knew he was right. You hadn’t brought anything with you, offering to stay only once you had seen the sadness creeping into his gaze at the prospect of being left all alone once again.

He pretended not to watch you as you rifled through his t-shirt drawer. He was thinking about your lips, and the warmth of your breath across his face making his skin tingle, and your body pressed tight against his, and—He shouldn’t have been thinking about any of that. Not when you were doing him a favor just by staying the night, and certainly not when you were walking into his bathroom to strip out of your clothes.

He took your absence as a chance to change into his pajamas, trying to push away the thoughts of what your kiss would taste like as he threw on an old t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. It didn’t work, of course. You were still you, and you were still there, changing into his clothes.

When you walked out of the bathroom, he was sitting on his bed again, propped up against his pillows with one leg hanging carelessly off the side of the bed. He hoped he maintained a normal expression, because he felt his entire universe lurch sideways at the sight of you.

You had chosen an old Hawkins Phys.-Ed. Shirt that was slightly faded from the number of times it had been washed over the year. It was just a grey-t-shirt, but it hung halfway down your thigh, the rest of your legs on full display, and something primal in Steve was screaming that that was his shirt. He had sweated in that shirt, bled in it, cried in it briefly after the bleeding. It was his, his, his, and it was a damn shame that you weren’t too.

He took a shaky breath, and smiled, pushing the caveman thoughts to somewhere they wouldn’t interfere because you were his best friend and you were staying the night to do him a favor and (you were wearing his shirt, holy shit.)

“Is this one okay? Sorry, I should have asked.” You had the audacity to look bashful standing there looking like sex, and Steve had to swallow to keep his thoughts straight.

“No, yeah, it’s perfect! I mean, it’s fine.” He stumbled over his words, cursing himself for the fumble, “I might have to let you keep that one; You wear it better.”

You laughed at that, finally fully entering the room.

It was worse up close. You dumped your clothes on the floor beside the bed and jumped up next to Steve, molding yourself into his side with your legs tucked under you. The smell of his laundry detergent on you made his thoughts race in a way that he might have been ashamed of if he possessed the capacity to be that anymore.

When he turned to make another joke, you were looking up at him through heavy lashes, chin tilted up to match his gaze, still smiling slightly, the ghost of a laugh still lingering on your lips. You were so pretty he could cry and when he instinctively found himself leaning towards you, he found that you were leaning right back.

Steve had wanted to kiss you for so long that he was sure the real thing could never live up to his fantasy. He had never been so wrong in his life.

Your lips were soft and pliant as he kissed you, the warmth of your body against his lighting small fires across his skin. You grabbed one of his arms with yours and squeezed again like you had earlier, pulling him closer to you like you couldn’t bear to be apart. He kissed you slowly, reverently, memorizing the way you felt in his arms, the way your mouth felt against his, the way you breathed when all you could breathe was him. There was a hollow in his chest that was suddenly full of you, all at once, and he couldn’t bear the thought of that going away.

When you pulled away, it was to press a kiss against his forehead, his cheek, his shoulder, his mouth again, and then you were smiling again and Steve just stared, taking you in.

“Thought I told you not to cause any more trouble.” He joked, leaning in to kiss you again, reveling in the way you shivered with delight at the press of his lips, the way you reciprocated without hesitation, the way your grip on his arm tightened when he tried to pull away.

“’m not trouble, Stevie.” You protested. You tried to pout, but Steve just kissed it away until you were laughing into his mouth, pretending to try to shove him away with no real force.

“No?” He asked, earnestly, “what are you then?”

He didn’t think his night could be much better with you so close, lips swollen from his kiss, but you nearly knocked him dead with your response.

“Yours.”

[blackfeatherdragon]

I'll Become Your Sword and the Shield to Protect You!: An Aztecshipping Manifesto

Happy III day! I wrote up an entire meta post explaining Aztecshipping and why it's good!

(Also available on Ao3 here)

The Basics

Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal is one of multiple spinoffs of the Yu-Gi-Oh anime series, produced by Studio Gallop from April 2011 to March 2014. The main character, one Yuma Tsukumo, is a thirteen year old boy who breaks from series tradition by starting the series with very, very little knowledge of how to play the central card game (Yugi, Yami Yugi, Judai, and Yusei all knew how at the start of their respective series), but ends up going through massive character growth to become able to more than hold his own through his interactions with the main cast and his teamwork with the amnesiac alien Astral. Basically, Yuma is a very determined guy who refuses to ever give up or admit defeat, pushes on with his special catchphrase 'kattobingu', but at the same time still misses his missing adventurer parents dearly, to the point of choosing to sleep on a hammock in the attic where the artifacts collected through their adventures are stored. His relationship with his older sister Akari is a bit rocky due to her barring Yuma from playing Duel Monsters at the start of the series, but it's clear they (and their grandmother/guardian Haru) do care about each other.

Once you get past the shock of the Zexal protagonist being a highly energetic but unskilled Duelist of a thirteen year old (especially if you choose to start Zexal right after finishing the previous spinoff Yu-Gi-Oh 5Ds), he's actually a really fun protagonist to root for. You want Yuma to succeed and help Astral collect the Number cards needed to unlock Astral's missing memories. You want Yuma to find a way to save everyone in the final stretch, even characters like Vector, who tricked Yuma multiple times.

(That's a great protag right there.)

On the topic of shipping, there are many different pairings involving Yuma in some way. The two most popular by far are Sharkbaitshipping (Yuma/Ryoga 'Shark' Kamishiro) and Keyshipping (Yuma/Astral), with Sharkbaitshipping holding 274 fics on Ao3 and Keyshipping holding 239 fics at the time of writing this. Other ships command varying degrees of popularity too, including Skyshipping (Yuma/Kotori, 45 fics), Seraphshipping (Yuma/Alit, 35 fics), Negativeshipping (Yuma/Vector, 169 fics), and Dokidokishipping (Yuma/Kaito, 144 fics). But there is one that is, in my mind, criminally rare: Aztecshipping, or Yuma/Michael 'III' Arclight. At the time this was written in March 2024, Aztecshipping had a mere 29 fics posted to Ao3. (30 fics if you include this!)

You explained who Yuma is, who is III?

I mean, if you're here you probably know who III is, buuut he's my special little blorbo and I'm posting this for III Day so I get to talk about him.

III (birth name: Michael Arclight) is the fifteen year old youngest son of the Arclight family, a group of four people who acted as one of the antagonist groups of the first half of the series. (The other three members being his older brothers IV and V, and his father Tron.) III is the nicest of the family and is seen to defuse arguments between his brothers, but at the same time has his own problems stemming from his broken family situation.

III is shown to be intensely and unwaveringly loyal to his family, displaying a willingness to both kill for the sake of those he cares about and die for their sake. In fact, during his Duel against Yuma, he deliberately goes out of his way to mentally break Yuma and kill Astral out of jealousy towards Yuma's healthier family and desperation to protect his own, only backing down from his desperate rage when a card he played (Final Prophecy) tried to punch a hole in reality to open a portal to the Barian World.

Tying into this, III puts up little resistance to his father's scheme to get revenge against Dr. Faker, often going along with all but the worst of his family's actions. He delivers a dangerous Number card to Shark at Tron's request, knowing that the card would try to control Shark, but later expresses discomfort when Tron performs a ritual to steal Haruto's power, due to the ritual causing pain to Haruto.

(Remember III's loyalty, it's a surprise tool that will help us later.)

Finally, III has a strong interest in ancient civilizations (with a dash of Ancient Aliens style conspiracies about out of place artifacts coming from other dimensions mixed in), much like how his father was once invested in researching interdimensional portals. This is also a surprise tool that will help us later.

The Ship Summary

To explain Aztecshipping, we have to go back to Yuma and III's fathers: Kazuma Tsukumo and Byron Arclight.

Byron was working with Dr. Faker and the explorer Kazuma on interdimensional portal research, and the three eventually went on a trip to uncover one of these portals. Unfortunately, Dr. Faker ended up betraying both Kazuma and Byron, sacrificing them to open the portal.

While Kazuma ended up trapped in the Astral World after this, Byron ended up stuck in the Barian World, and ultimately struck a deal with the Barians where he was granted power to get revenge against Dr. Faker in exchange for gathering Number cards for the Barians, and eventually returned to Earth as Tron.

As for their families that were left behind on Earth, the Tsukumos were able to stay relatively healthy, with Haru taking over as guardian to Yuma and Akari in the absence of Kazuma and his wife, the severely plot neglected Mirai. Yuma still missed his parents dearly, but his family remained functional.

The Arclights were not so lucky.

With no parents in the picture and oldest son Christopher too young to act as a guardian to his brothers/busy investigating what happened to his father while working for Dr. Faker as an assistant, both Michael and his second brother Thomas were left to an orphanage, only returning to their family when Tron came back and Christopher realized the truth. Tron reduced his sons to mere pawns in his revenge scheme, forcibly renaming Christopher, Thomas, and Michael as V, IV, and III respectively and granting them special crests to give them power, and subsequently allowed his family to fall to dysfunction as he obsessed over revenge.

In this way, Yuma and III are mirrors of each other, both losing their fathers in the same incident but reacting in opposite ways. Yuma is connected to the Astral World from the start with his friendship with Astral and his father's fate, while III is connected with the opposing Barian World due to Tron's deal and the fallout of it.

To that end, Yuma and III initially opposed each other, their first significant interaction being a Tag Duel where Yuma (working with Kaito) Dueled III (working with IV) in a bid to rescue Kaito's younger brother Haruto after his kidnapping at the hands of the Arclights. However, it really wasn't long before III became curious about Yuma and his determination, going out of his way to break into the Tsukumo household to investigate (and was subsequently distracted by the artifacts in the attic/started infodumping about them to Yuma. Nerd.)

(This is actually likely where the ship name Aztecshipping comes from, between Yuma's idolization of his absent father and III's love for ancient civilizations/his favourite card being Chronomaly Aztec Mask Golem.)

Desperate to protect his family from being potentially opposed by Yuma and jealous of the actually functional Tsukumos after meeting them, III challenged Yuma to a Duel, in which he tormented Yuma and killed Astral, before attempting to sacrifice himself in a forced tie just to stop Yuma. The turning point came when one of III's cards, Final Prophecy, started trying to forcibly open a portal to the Barian World at the cost of ending the world, forcing III to share his crest power with Yuma to try to revive Astral and stop Final Prophecy's effect.

The plan was a long shot; there was no guarantee that Yuma would be able to take that amount of power. Yuma withstood it though, and with Astral back, managed to work together to defeat III and stop Final Prophecy. This was the true turning point of their relationship, as III recognized Yuma as his first and only friend and trusted him to be able to save his broken family.

Remember III's intense loyalty? Good, we're coming back to that now.

After this, III vanished from the plot for a while, eventually returning to protect Yuma from being menaced by the Barians Mr. Heartland and Semimaru by way of throwing a sword at Mr. Heartland and outright declaring that he would act as Yuma's 'sword and shield' before teaming up with Yuma to Duel Semimaru. In turn, Yuma trusted III to have his Number cards back, after III willingly gave them up to Yuma after their Duel some time earlier.

It seems that by now III's undying loyalty fully extended to Yuma, as he went out of his way to redirect an attack that would have hit Yuma and his monster to strike him instead, once again showcasing his willingness to sacrifice himself for those he cares about. After the Duel, which ended with III and Yuma working together to combine Yuma's 'Number 39: Utopia' and III's 'Number 6: Chronomaly Atlandis' to beat Semimaru, Yuma let III have the new Number card won off Semimaru: 'Number 3: Cicada King'.

III continued to stay with and protect Yuma after this, temporarily living in the Tsukumo household and sticking alongside Yuma at all times to fulfil this. To that end, III calls to mind a knight, someone willing to fight and die for the one he protects without thought for himself. III is also seen to become concerned for Yuma's mental state due to Astral seemingly dying at the hands of Black Mist several episodes prior, and after Yuma returns from a trip to the Astral World to find and bring back Astral, is relieved to see him again.

III sacrificing for Yuma came to a head when he and V went out of their way to stall several Barians to protect Yuma, Astral, and Kaito during the big Barian invasion. III knew going in that he would die doing this, but he didn't care, willingly sacrificing himself to save Yuma one more time.

Initially, III claimed to Yuma that he and V were going to confront the Barians to get revenge for IV's death earlier, saying that he'd grown sick of Yuma's optimism, but this was a lie meant to stop Yuma from following him. When it became clear that the brothers were fighting a losing match against the Barian Mizael, V opened a video link to Yuma to deliver a final message. III took the opportunity to apologize for lying, saying that Yuma was a true friend and say goodbye, before declaring that he'd be with Yuma in spirit as Mizael launched his final attack, killing both III and V.

This sacrifice caused Yuma to break down sobbing at being unable to stop it from happening due to traveling to track down the Barian leader Don Thousand.

Luckily, after the defeat of the Barians, everyone who died in the final invasion came back to life, III included. The final episode reveals that III enrolled in Yuma's middle school, somehow ending up in the same year as Yuma despite being two years older than him. III's literal final scene in the series has him declaring that he'll fight alongside Yuma anywhere, which again. Knight motifs.

Ship Dynamics

Yuma and III start off as enemies, facing off against each other as their goals and family situations clashed. However, it really isn't long before III starts viewing Yuma as a friend due to Yuma's unending determination and aid in preventing the end of the world via Final Prophecy, eventually even extending the loyalty once reserved for family out to Yuma. Once this shift happens, the dynamic changes to that of a knight protecting his charge with the power of his sword and his own life on the line, willing to die to see that charge safe.

In turn, Yuma seems rather okay with III protecting him despite their notable rough start. He allows III to live in his house for a time and even gives III's Number cards back and temporarily shares his school uniform with him just so that III isn't wearing the same clothes the whole time (this is before III joins Yuma's school, by the way). He's distraught when III (and V) sacrifices himself to hold off the Barians, breaking down in tears after watching the final blow.

It's not all III protecting and sacrificing for Yuma, either. They work together very well when Dueling Semimaru, coming up with a plan to join their monsters together via Chronomaly Atlandis's effect to stop Semimaru. Yuma also promises to help save III's family where III could not, seemingly genuinely forgiving III for his actions during their Duel against each other.

They also have a connection via their interests; Yuma idolizes his missing explorer father and has a number of ancient artifacts in his house, while III has a strong interest in ancient civilizations. It's not hard to imagine them working together on explorations and archaeology digs as they get older, helping and protecting each other as needed.

Tldr: Aztecshipping is a very cute ship with protector/protectee themes and two young nerds. They should be together.

References

-Yugipedia (Crossreferencing canon events and characters) -zexual-shippings (Various ship names) -Ao3 (Fic counts for various ships)

Specific episodes:

-Episodes 41-43: III and IV vs Yuma and Kaito. III starts to become curious about Yuma and his determination at the end of episode 43. -Episodes 46-49: III vs Yuma. III spends most of the Duel proper (47 to 49) tormenting Yuma and Astral, only coming out of his desperation and rage when he realizes what Final Prophecy is doing. III and Yuma work together to stop the effect of Final Prophecy in episode 49, followed by III admitting that Yuma is his first friend and asking him to save his family/giving up his Number cards to Yuma. Episode 46 also contains III nerding out over the artifacts in Yuma's attic. -Episodes 112-113: III and Yuma vs Semimaru. 112 has III throw a sword at Mr. Heartland to defend Yuma and state that he'll be Yuma's 'sword and shield'. Yuma also trusts III to have his Number cards back in 112, followed by trusting III to have the new Number card 'Number 3: Cicada King' in 113. -Episodes 114-116: III continues to stay with Yuma to protect and help him in Astral's absence, including staying over at Yuma's house and borrowing a school uniform from Yuma. III also becomes concerned for Yuma's mental state in the wake of Astral seemingly dying again. -Episodes 126-128: III and V vs Mizael. III claims he's sick of Yuma's optimism to stop Yuma from following him to the Duel, knowing that Yuma needed to go on while he and V stalled for time. III gets the chance to apologize for lying and say goodbye/that he'll be with Yuma in spirit right before dying to Mizael. -Episode 146: III is shown to have enrolled in Yuma's school and is in the same year as him despite being two years older. III later states that he'll fight alongside Yuma anywhere towards the end of the episode.

[cazzyf1]

Quotes about Helmut Koinigg from the book 'Unsere Champions - Alles über Österreichs Jahrhundert- Rennfahrer 1900-2003'

"I helped him a few times in his somewhat chaotic career," remembers Helmut Marko. A nice guy, but a bit of a slob who had no organization - until he came to me with his contracts."

"He had a short, promising career, almost sky-storming: unfortunately an unfinished symphony. Helmut Koinigg was good," says Niki Lauda today. "But he died far too early to even know what would happen next."

Father Koinigg, a very well-off industrialist, was always against his only child racing - and never supported him.

Even from Lauda: “A consistent, intelligent guy who tried with all the difficulties you could possibly have to fight his way into Formula I - namely without any money. When he drove Formula Vee, he couldn't even pay the hotel bill at the Nürburgring...

What always impressed me about Koinigg was how unswervingly he pursued his path. In his premiere race in Aspern near Vienna, he continued to fight bravely with the ex-Lauda Mini even after the windshield had tipped out.

Helmut studied journalism and mechanical engineering at the Vienna University of Technology, where he was met by the two geniuses Dr. Get to know Fritz Indra and Ing. Heinz Lippitsch - and pass them on directly to Kurt Bergmann.

“Perhaps the nicest person I have ever met - but also the most difficult. Because he was so ambitious."

In 1974 he married his girlfriend, a stewardess: "Gaby has to earn the money that I spent on racing..." The 25-year-old is only half a year away from getting his doctorate. And all that's left to achieve perfect racing luck is Formula I.

I want to start over with Koinigg and rebuild everything from scratch. I'm taking Helmut because of his talent, his ability and his team spirit. If he didn't have these qualities, I wouldn't have signed him even with a lot of sponsorship money," Surtees tells me. Koinigg happily packs his two jersey bags for Canada and the USA

Koinigg is partying in Toronto, browsing for antiques, but most of us are flying to the Bahamas

Lauda has “the stupid feeling all day that something is happening,” and he pays particular attention. The track: even bumpier than last, with even worse vibrations. “They hit me like electric shocks,” admits Koinigg.

“It's a terrible feeling when the guard rails are staring you in the face, just 3 cm from the road,” Koinigg tells me quietly.

Five pilots are coming to the GPDA safety conference: Lauda. Koinigg, Hill, Hulme and Beltoise

On Saturday Helmut tried for two hours to call Gaby in Vienna but doesn't get through. The phone call doesn't work until Sunday morning. Helmut has breakfast with Huppert and Stommelen

The reconstruction shows: The two safety fences gave way during the impact. as if they were curtains. The bottom two of the three guide rails immediately collapsed because the pencil-thin bolts fell out. The car went under the third rail. Koinigg didn't have the slightest chance in a 2nd gear corner - whatever defect caused the Surtees to leave the road

Niki Lauda, ​​shaken, takes off his helmet after two pit stops and says to Montezemolo: Luca, it has become pointless for me to continue driving. His race director understands immediately

No part of the car that was broken wasn't also bent. But the inner carcass of the left rear tire was completely damaged and this defect was certainly not caused by contact with the guard rails. Sudden explosion? Or the infamous "slow puncture", a slow slip like the one that cost Jim Clark his life at Hockenheim in 1968? I don't think so," says Surtees today, "Helmut was a sensitive racing driver. He would certainly have felt that."

The most touching moment was years later when a particularly kind Ms. Magister spoke to me quietly in a pharmacy in Hietzing: “I am the mother of Helmut Koinigg. Gaby, Helmut's wife, was already married again: to an attaché at the French embassy in Vienna. And Surtees again had an Austrian pilot - Hans Binder. Only at Ferrari in Maranello does Helmut Koinigg's last photo hang unchanged.

The last photograph ever taken of Helmut Koinigg

[paper-gold-theories]

What if flug's brother works fir golden rule and goldheart but despite bring flug's brother goldheart can't stand him because he's a poor man's flug and is lazier than him.

Hi anon,

Villainous Headcanon (based on the theory that Flug's brother is Dr.Oliver Anderson):

Flug tries to keep his past well hidden, but GoldHeart manages to find out that he has a scientist brother named Dr. Oliver Anderson who is also working at P.E.A.C.E.

GoldHeart initially hires Flug's brother to work as a scientist in the Golden Rule thinking that he can get a leverage over Flug with his brother on their side who is also a genius.

But he soon realizes his mistake:

Although Flug's brother is a genius, he was not as smart, creative, or as innovative as Flug so he is unable to recreate Flug's or create his own amazing inventions. The lazy jerk also refuses to work more than 3 hours a day giving excuse after excuse that he's just too exhausted to do so. And to top it all off, he also loves to cut corners and is extremely disorganized in doing his work which leads to a lot of unnecessary work place accidents and damages in The Golden Rule Building much to GoldHeart's and the other Golden Rule Members incredible frustration.

Flug's brother's spoiled and overbearing attitude is so annoying that it makes GoldHeart wants to tear his hair out or slam his head repeatedly against the table. He was tempted to fire him from P.E.A.C.E ruin ever chance of success that he has or just ask one of the Golden Rule Members to throw him out the window and just frame the incident as a Villain trying to break into The Golden Rule Building.

But then he realized he still can use the jerk against Flug by getting information from him about Flug's past and emotional psychological warfare to fight Flug if it ever comes down to it. So instead, GoldHeart, though he really doesn't want to, chooses the pacifist route and decides to tell him about Flug being a Villain.

Dr. Oliver Anderson had no idea that his brother and GoldHeart's Arch-Nemesis, "Flug" were the same person, because the Arch-Nemesis in question uses a different name from Flug's real name and always wears a mask which he was never seen without it as part of his supervillain outfit that hides his face. He and their parents also had no contact with Flug ever since he ran away from home when he was a teenager and had no idea where he went afterwards.

Dr. Oliver Anderson, being loyal to P.E.A.C.E. is willing to give any information about Flug to GoldHeart and agrees to help him do whatever he can in order to defeat Flug and will face him when the time comes.

GoldHeart "rewards" him for this with an unfireable position as the Project Manager in the P.E.A.C.E. R&D to work at the upcoming important project in the A.I. Division at P.E.A.C.E HQ, when in reality it's just the nicest way of saying "get out of my face you free-loader" !

As GoldHeart wants to use Flug's brother as an ace up his sleeve but without having to deal or see the annoying asshole as much as possible.

[indulgence-is-key]

Anime/manga in a nutshell

btw this is my opinion if you even care

Death Note: guy writes in the same notebook everyday for multiple years

Ouran High School Host Club: girl looks for quiet place to study, lives to regret it

Hunter x Hunter: happy group of friends go their separate ways and things get dark fast

Tokyo Ghoul: guy goes on a date with a girl, he will never be the same again

Pop Team Epic: a show only understood by those who can't focus on something for five seconds

Dr Stone: celery boi counts past a number you can't even image

Mob Psycho 100: nicest person ever + yassified grunkle stan = fighting evil organizaitons and a self conscious middle schoolers thoughts

The Promised Neverland: kentucky fried children am I right?

My Hero Academia: awkward bullied boy becomes gradually stronger over time but the fandom only cares about whether he's straight or not

Fullmetal Alchemist: We summoned dead mom with chalk circle (OMG EMOTIONAL)

Saiki K: unreliable psychic narrator claims to find friends annoying, follows them around on shenanigan's anyway

Little Witch Academia: idk how to describe this one

Jujutsu Kaisen: he's too busy mourning his grandad. nvm he's not

Yotsuba: just nice. happy.

Komi Can't Communicate: girl has everyone simping for her, she still hasn't said anything about it

Orange: you can't fuck up the past, right?

Nichijou: robots, talking animals, yet somehow the real world is portrayed!

Serial experiments lain: everyone talks about the simpsons predicting things but lain is never given the credit!

Neon genesis evangelion: remember how we said nerdy quiet mentally challenged complex characters are the best? Well no their not because this mc gets horrendously mocked all the time!

Watamote: wanna laugh, cry, AND *heavily* cringe at the same time!?

Sailor moon: remember when wearing cute outfits weren't sexualised?

Fruits basket: there is no way to describe this masterpiece

From me to you: horror movie villain X popular boy?