#i dunno I’m just so over people doing stuff for me then shoving it in my face

[hannahssimblr]

We surface eventually, and clamber down the back stairs and out into sharp morning light, squinting against the sun. I feel like a vampire. My friends’ faces are gaunt and drawn, eyes still black. They look like they’ve been dead for a week. 

Except Jen, sober Jen, who smiles sleepily and stretches her arms, breath condensing in the cold air. “God, that was mad,” she says. “What time is it?”

“Eight,” I say. Being out in the daylight like this is always weird, with families walking around, people going to work, while we are like creatures who have dug our way out of the earth, lurching toward home amongst the living. My mouth is so dry, and my jaw hurts. I foresee an afternoon spent throwing up, head in the toilet bowl, groaning as Jonas hammers on the door, appealing to my sense of humanity by reminding me there’s only one bathroom in the apartment.   

“Oh, well, I should probably pack my bags and stuff.” Jen says.

I rub my eyes. “Oh, your flight.”

“Oh, Jen,” Dalia says with a big sad face, “I wish you could stay,” they hug, and rock each other side to side. “Please, come back and visit. This was so fun.”

“I swear!” Jen says. “I love you guys. Come see me in Dublin!”

“Don’t make them go there,” I say, to which she laughs. “Actually, yeah. Never mind. I’ll come back here! And for longer!”

“Please!” Elias and Dalia cry in unison, and then we leave, trudging toward the train station. 

She snoozes on my shoulder on the U-Bahn, while Jonas and I, wired, wide awake, stare at our reflections in the window all the way back to Kreutzberg. 

I lie on my bed, eyes on the cracks on the ceiling, while Jen shoves things into her suitcase. She’s cleaned off all her makeup, leaving black smudged wiped crumpled on the surrounding floor. 

“This was so fun,” she’s saying. “I had such a good time. I mean, last night was amazing. Did you see I kissed that girl with the fan?”

“The fan?”

“Yeah, she was carrying this weird, lacy fan. Anyway, she was dead pretty. I wish I’d gotten her number.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I tried, but she didn’t speak English. There was no point.”

“So you didn’t speak before you starting kissing her.”

“No, we didn’t need to. I just met her eyes across the dancefloor and we both knew.”

“Ah, nice.”

The mattress shifts under her weight, and her face slides into my vision, pink cheeked, with eyeliner still smudged in the spaces between her lashes. “You’re coming down.”

“Yep.”

“Poor Judie. Rough day ahead.”

“Honestly, it’ll probably be a few days. A week, even.”

“Oof. Do you do this a lot?”

“Too much, probably.”

“Oh well,” she plonks back down to the rug and continues shoving things into her case. “At least I know you’re having fun over here. I’d be worried you’re suffering.”

“Do you worry about that?”

“Kind of.”

I laugh gently. “No, Jenny. I’m not suffering. Things are good.”

She struggles with the zip, and it rasps lowly against the bulk. “I was worried I wouldn’t like your friends, you know. I’m glad I met them, because they’re amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I wish they were my friends. Jonas is adorable. Elias too, so fun, and Dalia is probably the coolest girl I ever met in my life. I never got to ask her what part of America she comes from.”

“Pittsburgh.”

“I dunno where that is.”

“Nowhere close to where I grew up.”

“You sound different when you talk to her.”

Turning my head is an effort, and the room lurches a little. Later, I’ll probably be so dizzy that standing up feels like getting off the waltzers. “How so?”

“Your accent gets more American. Did you know that?”

“No.”

“Well, it does. I suppose when you’re talking to someone from the states you kind of copy what they’re doing, or something. It’s just funny, because you weren’t like that at home.”

“With dad?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s not like I really talk to him, is it?”

She pauses thoughtfully. “Well, I’ve heard you say ‘okay’ to him a few times.”

“Hm,” I say. “Well, maybe I’ll lose my Irish accent while I’m here.”

“Would you like to?”

I shrug. “Sure.”

I shut my eyes in the hopes it will stave off the wave of dizziness that comes over me. My temples throb gently with the onset of a headache. I half listen as Jen goes on about how great my friends are, Jonas, Elias, Dalia. Perhaps she’s hoping I won’t notice who she has left out, but she is wrong. 

“What did you think of Astrid?” I say, and she pauses, just for a beat, before answering with enormous enthusiasm. 

“Oh, she’s gorgeous. You were right. Even better in person than in the pictures.”

“Yeah.” I roll on my side. “She’s incredible looking, I know, but… like, did you like her?”

“Of course I did.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s so nice.”

I hesitate. Astrid isn’t that nice. At least it’s not a word I would use to describe her ahead of something like intelligent, confident, shrewd. Out of all the traits she has that I admire, I couldn’t say her niceness is something that sticks out. It’s not important to me, and I require it from her. Nice isn’t untrue, exactly, but it's not a real answer.

“Your opinion is really important to me,” I say, and she busies herself in her backpack, double checking for her phone charger and passport. 

“No, I mean it,” she says distractedly. “She seems to care a lot about you, and that’s the main thing, you know what I mean?”

On my elbow now, I look at her, pulling things out of her bag and shoving them back in, and my anxiety rises. I wanted our dinner to go a little better, sure, and they could have hit it off more than they did, but Astrid is Astrid. She’s a tough nut to crack at the first meeting. It takes a while for her to warm up, to get comfortable. She takes some getting used to. 

“I know things were a bit awkward there, when we were talking about school, and she didn’t have anything to say and all that.”

She waves this off. ‘No, it’s fine. She didn’t have to say anything. I was more worried about whether we were annoying her by talking about it so much.”

“I doubt it.”

“It’s alright, like, she doesn’t need to have the same humour as me.”

I frown. “Well, you and I have the same humour. In fact, we’re so alike that I thought you’d get along with her.”

“We got along.”

“But you weren’t bowled over.”

She sighs, “Jude, don’t make me talk myself into an awkward position.”

“I’m not doing that. I’m just wondering what you thought.”

“Yeah, but it’s like you’re not accepting my answer.”

“You haven’t answered.”

“I have. I said she’s nice.”

“Yeah, but like, ‘nice’ is a non-answer.”

“She’s not what I expected, right? But there’s nothing wrong with that. I just always thought you’d prefer to go out with a girl that laughed at the same things as you, or was silly and goofy, or, I don’t know, less… severe. I’ll meet Astrid again, and I’m sure I’ll be bowled over. We just didn’t have a lot of time to get to know each other. It was only a few hours, and, I dunno, Jonas was there too, and I was talking to him, mostly.”

“I–” I decide to ignore the first part about the girls I supposedly like. “Well, I hope so. I’d be pretty sad if my girlfriend and my best friend didn’t get along.”

“Everyone is friendly here.”

“Right.”

“I can tell you don’t believe me.”

I sigh reluctantly, and fall back onto the bed. My headache makes my brain slosh against the inside of my skull. “Jenny, I do. I believe you,” I say. “And I’m glad you like her. It’d be really fucking shit for me if you didn’t.”

“Well, I do.”

“I’m glad.”

“Good.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[maxlarens]

lando + bandaging/stitching up an injury :)))) i love love love your writing!!!!!

i think about his nose scar a lot. i know he’s told some details about what happened but i’m throwing most of that out the window for fic purposes. also thank you🥰

tw blood, mild descriptions of a wound

You’re on the way back with drinks for you, Lando and another friend when there’s suddenly a commotion coming from the direction you’re headed. Glass shattering, someone that sounds a lot like Lando swearing loudly. The moment you hear it you’d really like to rush over there— but it’s a bit difficult with three full pint glasses held in your hands.

You charge through the crowd, elbowing and shoving as much as you can without spilling your drinks— you find Lando with his hand clutched over his nose, blood running through his fingers, down his wrist. There’s a loose gathering of people around him but you’re barely paying attention to them. You put the pint glasses down on the nearest table and shove through to Lando, indiscriminate of who you’re forcing out of your way.

“Lan,” you put a hand on his shoulder, a hand gently on his elbow, “Lan, what happened?”

He says something you can’t understand. There’s music, chatter, and a person you’re not particularly fond of is trying to take charge of the situation. Saying irrelevant things to people, directing them places and then trying to pull you away from Lando. Suddenly they’ve got a hand tugging on your elbow, saying,

“Dude, give him space, give him space.”

Then they’re shoving dirty bar napkins into Lando’s unoccupied hand and you’ve had fucking enough.

“Give me one sec, Lan,” you pat him gently on the shoulder and then whirl around to face the source of your ire, “First of all, do not touch me,”

Their hand slips from your elbow immediately as they reel back a few steps, something shocked passing across their face.

“Second,” you bite, “If you want to do something actually useful, go to the bar, ask for the first aid kit and bring it to me right now. Can you do that?”

They blink, half-stutter, “Yeah, yeah, okay. Done.”

You’re glad to see them turn tail and push through the crowd. You sigh, ask another friend to “please tell Martin about Lando. He’s over on the decks,” and then tell everyone else they need to back off unless you ask for help. You turn your attention back to Lando, grateful for your experience wrangling teenagers which is apparently a lot like wrangling drunk adults around an accident.

“Sorry,” you sigh, hands back on him, “Can you tell me what happened?”

“Er, my glass broke.”

“Your glass broke?”, you repeat, and then, “Lan, babe, can you move your hand please?”

“Mm. I dunno.”

“Sweetheart,” you say, the pet names you try not to use for him slipping out of your mouth with alarming frequency, “C’mon.”

Someone stuffs a wad of apparently clean napkins into your hand and then the first aid kit you’d asked for is on the table next to you. You unzip it, flipping it open and gathering supplies as Lando finally musters the courage to move his hand from the injury.

“It’s bad,” he says matter-of-factly, now fixated on the blood trailing down his arm, “It feels bad.”

“I’ll look,” you sigh, shuffling your high-stool closer to him so your thighs are touching, “Don’t freak out.”

You can hear him, breathing a little ragged with nerves. His unbloodied arm grabs at your jumper, clutches there. You lean into him, using a napkin to dab at the blood spilling down his nose. It’s not that bad— or it’s not bleeding profusely anymore. You don’t see any glass, just a two-centimetre wide gash on the bridge of his nose.

“Lan,” you say, reaching for a cotton ball to press there, guiding his hand to hold it, “Lando. It’s fine.”

He scrunches his nose, winces when it hurts, “Are you sure?”

You nod, grabbing napkins to wipe up his arm which you meant for him to attend to, “Promise. It’s not deep. Just need to wait for the bleeding to slow down a bit.”

You wipe blood off the tan skin of his forearm, but it’s dried a bit so you’re more just smearing it around. You manage what you can, leave the rest for later.

“Okay,” Lando says finally, sounding a little less shaky now, a little more reassured by you.

You cant help but smile to yourself as you move Lando’s other hand and the now red cotton ball. You pour a bit of saline on the cut and you’re pleased to spot no glass residue. And to find that it’s not too deep— it’s a sizeable gash but it hasn’t done anything scary like hit bone and it’s not bleeding much now. It seems to have just scraped a good layer of skin off.

You lean back and level Lando with a look. He returns the look with apparent apprehension, mouth curled into a frown, green eyes wide with worry.

“What?”, he asks.

“I’ve gotta put antiseptic on it, bub.”

He groans, grits his teeth and tips his head back instead of wincing.

“Okay,” still through gritted teeth, “Do it.”

You ready a cotton swab with a good glug of antiseptic on it. Moving again to loom over Lando. You steady his head with your fingers on his chin, not gripping hard but enough to remind him to stay still.

“Y’know,” you say, going for it right away with the cotton ball— he hisses through his teeth, a prolonged thing, “This’ll leave a scar.”

“Ugh,” he groans, less at what you’re saying, more at the way you’re covering his entire nose in antiseptic, “Girls like that don’t they?”

You shrug, letting the antiseptic dry, letting the sting subside. You ready a bandaid— they’re Disney Princess themed, thrown in there with the standard first aid kit bandaids. You’ve made an executive decision that he needs to have Princess Aurora plastered across his nose for the rest of the day.

“I guess,” you answer, imagining Lando’s nose with a permanent mark on it, “It’s cute. Quirky.”

“You think?”, he looks at you expectantly.

You snort, peeling the bandaid from its wrapping, “I have no idea, Lan. Maybe it’ll be horrific.”

He makes an offended noise, shaking his head as you tip forward to press the Aurora bandaid across his nose. You smooth it down on both sides just as Martin materialises from the crowd, carrying new drinks for the three of you. Condensation rolling down the sides of the beer glasses.

“Ah, mate,” Lando admonishes, reaching around you to take a beer, “You didn’t have to stop the set for me.”

Martin shrugs, “Eh,” he practically forces a beer into your hand, eyes shining with something that’s maybe a little mischievous, “It’s no worries. But, you clearly have someone taking care of you.”

He winks slyly at you— you feel the urge to punch him bubble up in your chest. You take a gulp of your drink to stymie the feeling, try to step away from Lando.

Lando grabs you. His arm going around your shoulder as he slips off his stool, pulling you to him. You knock your shoulder into his, bounce back and try not to press into his side.

“You don’t mean that,” Lando says later— once Martin has been filled in, you’ve been told the sequence of events leading up to the cut, and you’re another beer deep.

“Huh,” you raise an eyebrow, your mouth on the straw of your tequila apple juice, “Whaddya mean?”

“That it’ll look horrific?”

You sigh, giggle a bit, “No, Lan. Course not.”

“You think girls will like it?”, he’s smirking a little, pleased at the idea, then, hands on your shoulders, “Would you like it? You’re a girl.”

You roll your eyes, ignoring the thing in your gut, “Well, babe. It’s covered by a princess bandaid right now, but sure, yeah— it’ll be cute. Hot even.”

He smushes you to his chest without warning and if his smile stretches even wider for it then so what.

✨lets discuss: best friend!reader using so many pet names when lando needs reassurance because its her internal dialogue that she usually has the presence of mind to filter out— but when she’s taking care of him she’s not bothered to focus on cutting them because her only priority is lando😁😁😁 on that note best friend!reader would be a total wreck if lando got in an accident on track 😋

send me a prompt/request + a driver and i’ll write something. pls check if my requests are open 💖

[eddieboi23]

Hello I'd like to ask if u can do a Wednesday x Always tired reader , plz and thank u if ur able to do it

Tiredness

Wednesday Addams x tired reader

(Wednesday )

Summary: Wednesday notices you always tired , she can’t help but admire it

Tw: insomnia, depression, death mentions??

Y/n)=your name

-this is thoughts-

“This is talking”

——————————

You are always tired, a night owl. You’re not sure why, maybe it’s the insomnia, maybe it’s you watching Netflix til 3 am, or maybe it’s the depression.

Netherless, you’re always tired, while most of the students don’t question it and just see it as a character trait, Wednesday was a curious one.

She always liked to find out stuff about people that interested her, and right now she wonders why you always seem half dead, not that there’s anything wrong with it in her books.

—-

You wake up early on a dark and somber day. You roll over in bed and stares up at the ceiling.

You have class today once again and all you feel is this never-ending sense of fatigue.

You slowly drag yourself out of bed and take a shower.

The warm water running over your body somehow only makes you feel more tired.

You stand in the bathroom, staring at your reflection, trying to convince yourself to get ready for the day, soon you put on your uniform and head to class.

——-

Wednesday is in class early as usual, in her normal black uniform.

She watches you walk in and sit across from her, right in her line of sight.

She noticed you.

You looked absolutely exhausted. half-dead even…Just barely functioning.

Wednesday couldn't help but admire it, it was her kind of aesthetic after all. She then snaps out of it her thoughts when she realized you were speaking to her.

“What did you say?” She says in her monotone voice.

“I said are you ok..? You were staring..”

She huffs. “Of course I’m fine, you’re the one who looks half dead.” She scowls. You rolls your eyes. “Ok ok sorry.. geez.”

She then looks away. “Why do you look so half dead, just out of curiosity.”

Her tone sounds as if she actually cares. You raise your eyebrow but brushes her tone off as you being tired.

“Dunno…depressed…can never sleep.”

She hides her surprise. She never thought of depression, you never spoke negatively so she chalked it up to you staying up to late, now realizing it’s deeper than that, she can’t help with the tiniest bit of concern that she feels in her black heart for you.

“I see.”

-

Soon classes carry on, you’re in the same ones as her so now she’s truly studying you. She’s now noticing how you carry yourself, half dead, like a zombie.

Classes end after awhile and she seems you by the fountain. She decides to do something risky. She’s going to make you do some self care and sleep.

Enids been talking her ear off about all of that so she knows a bit.

She approaches you without a word and grabs your uniform sleeve and starts to drag you, being freakishly strong for such a small person.

You try to protest but she ignores you, so you let her.

She drags you to your own door, and pushes you inside.

You grunt and look at her confused.

“Ok what’s going on Wednesday? Are you gonna murder me, if so please not in my own room-“

Wednesday shoves you on your bed and you see Thing on your bedside table, hes has some nail clippers, nail polish,nail file ,face masks, drinks and snacks. Thing waves and you wave back hesitantly, then look at Wednesday with a questioning look.

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “You’re always, i did not know you were depressed. I’d rather you not die from exhaustion…so Thing is going to do a “self care” day. I will be cleaning up your room because it’s absolutely atrocious.”

You don’t know what to say, you know not to make a big deal out of it or she will take it back, but you can’t help but tear up. “Th-thanks Weds…”

Wednesday huffs and rolls her eyes. “Whatever”

You and thing starts doing your little spa day as Wednesday cleans up your “depression cave”.

You get your nails done, your face exfoliated, and your belly full of your favorite snacks and drinks.

Within the time of you doing that, Wednesday has joined in despite saying she didn’t want to.

You ask…”hey…weds…be honest, why did you do this for me?”

She hesitates…then sighs. “Look. It’s possible I care about you, maybe I even…like you. DONT let it get to your head though.”

You try to stay calm and just smile.

After all this pampering you start falling asleep and subconsciously lean on Wednesday.

Her immediate response is to want to shove you off, but seeing you so peaceful, she lets you fall asleep on her.

She stares at your face, then slowly kisses your forehead, her cold lips on your warm skin…she sighs and watches you sleep.

—————————————-

Sorry this is late I was super busy!!!

Hope you like it

[haveihitanerve]

Stephanie Brown hated Galas. Well, that wasn't exactly true. She loved parties of any kind, and technically a Gala was just a big fancy party. More accurately, she hated the people at Galas. The rich, snooty elite who looked down at her with their perfectly straight noses, a polar opposite of her very crooked nose because one can only spend so long as a vigilante and get your nose broken and set so many times before ones nose loses its original shape. Hated them with their fake pitying looks. The whispers about her being just another street rat. Orphan trash. Which wasn't even true, but Steph preferred it to if they knew the truth. All in all, the company at Galas wasn't particularly pleasant. Which is how she found herself huddled in the far corner, nursing a glass of champagne. “You're not old enough to be drinking that.” rumbled a deep voice. Stephanie almost dropped her glass. As it was, it sloshed around enough to spill onto the front of her dress. “Asshole.” Steph hissed, setting the drink aside and reaching for napkins or something. “Cant you just approach like a regular human?” She griped. Bruce Wayne smirked at her, tugging out his own handkerchief to help her. “No bruce, thats your- pocket thingy.” Steph declined, shoving his hand away. “Stephanie.” Bruce let out a sigh of exasperation. “It doesn't matter. Stop- stop, here.” He leaned forward, dabbing at the spill. Steph grumbled, but dropped her hands, letting him work. “What are you even doing in my sulk corner? Shouldn't you be out there- i dunno, bedazzling the guests?” Bruce chuckled lightly, looking up at her from where he was crouched. “Bedazzling? Sulk corner?” He pulled away, satisfied with his work, standing up straight. Steph crossed her arms. “Ah. I see it now.” Steph uncrossed them. Bruce granted her another listen of his laugh. “I wanted to see you.” Steph raised an eyebrow. “You can see me just fine from over there.” Bruce gave her a look. “Come on, you're dancing now.” “what?? No- no Bruce!” she hissed, but it was too late, he had her hand and was dragging her to the dance floor. “Bruce!” Steph hissed through gritted teeth as he swung her around into a dance pose. “Im not supposed to be here!” She whispered as he led her in a circle, one arm securely on her waist the other steadily holding her hand. Bruce raised a perfect brow. (damn him) “Why not?” Steph looked around at the very obvious eyes on the richest man in the room dancing with her. Steph's cheeks flushed. “I don't- im not one of them.” She gestured at the crowd around them before letting it fall back onto his shoulder. Bruce smiled. “I don't care about that Stephanie.” Steph blushed. “No no i know you don't. But they do.” Bruce shrugged. “Who cares what they think? I’m the richest man in this entire room. They're just some elite fuckwads. Fuck them if they cant deal with me dancing with my daughter.” 

Steph gaped at him, eyes wide. “I’m sorry did I just die and am in hell? Does Bruce Wayne say fuck in hell?” Bruce rolled his eyes. “And secondly, when did you adopt me?” Now it was Bruce’s turn for his eyes to go wide. “You mean I haven't already?” He gasped. “You have your own room at the manor and I have a headache that is induced by your presence.” Steph scoffed. “Those are all the requirements?” Bruce shrugged. “I mean theres stuff like, I love you, and I would hate to live in a world without you and all that-” Steph wrinkled her nose. Bruce nodded. “Yeah exactly. So those are the main criteria.” He suddenly looked a little nervous. “Are you saying you don't want to be adopted?” Steph rolled her eyes. “Don't get all sentimental on me now B. I mean, maybe?” She shrugged. “I don't know if I fit the requirement.” Bruce stared at her. “Headache. Induced by your presence.” Steph rolled her eyes. “Not your requirements. I could be a fucking delight or a little gremlin and so long as I looked pathetic enough at certain times you'd be willing to adopt me.” She threw a look over at Damian and Jason. “Actually thats not even a requirement.” Bruce scoffed. “I just meant, their requirements.” Bruce looked confused. “The kids? They all love you. In fact, I think you're the least stabbed out of everyone by Damian.” “No i meant- wait really?” Bruce nodded. “Huh.” Steph glanced back over at him, and indeed, Damian even smiled when she caught his eye.  “Anyways.” Steph sighed. “I meant your friends. Society.” She clarified when it was clear he was about to bring up some bullshit about Clark and Diana. “Ah.” Dawning realization swept over Bruces face. “Yeah.” Steph muttered. “Im afraid your ‘ton’ wont take so kindly to another charity cased street rat.” Bruces hold on her hand tightened and Steph looked up in surprise. “Don't.” Bruces voice was uncharacteristically hard. “Don't ever say that about yourself again Stephanie do you hear me? You are not the insults they call you. If it was acceptable for me to rip out their vocal cords everytime i hear them say that sort of stuff about you, about jason and dick and-” Bruce cut off, breathing hard. “Alfred denies me, although he is no fonder of it.” Steph gave a laugh that sounded suspiciously close to a sob. “Okay.” She whispered. Bruce smiled in relief. But Steph wasn't done. “Okay you can adopt me.” If Steph had any doubts of Bruce’s feelings being untrue, the pure elation on his face just then destroyed any of them. That look of pure joy just couldn't be scripted. And so, under the watching eyes of every elite member in Gotham, she threw herself at his neck, wrapping herself around him in a tight hug. She didn't care anymore. After all, they were just some elite fuckwads.

[bokutosbabe]

Oh please, can I request the first time s/o rubs her nose against tecchou’s nose?

You don’t have an idea how I love tecchou’s fluff, like, everyone agrees he’s the most affectionate guy😭how I love my baby

AAHFSHSHSVSV I LOVE TECCHOU SM THIS IS SO CUTE. i had a pretty bad mental health week recently so i’m sorry for not finishing this earlier!!

nose to nose–

tecchou suehiro x gn! reader

a/n – this ask was too cute and i actually sobbed bc i love tecchou more than words can describe 🫶🏼

content – tecchou fluff, fem! reader, really just cute relationship type stuff, tecchou calls reader ‘sweetheart’ and ‘ my love ’ ,added backstory for absolutely no reason,i think that’s it! lmk if i missed anything!

synopsis – cute lil nose bumps with tecchou :)

when tecchou had first met you, he didn’t understand why his stomach felt so queasy. was it the soy sauce he’d put in his coffee? no. it couldn’t be that– he’d drank it many times before, so what was different about today?

you–a new addition to the hunting dogs– you were the only new thing about today. his daily rituals of working out during meetings, going on his own little adventures after getting a mission done a little too quickly; all of that would now be thrown off balance because you were here.

this feeling in his stomach would go away sooner or later

or– that’s what he’d thought.

even then; two months after you’d arrived into their little group of strangely strong super freaks, the weird queasiness never subsided within tecchous stomach.

the way you smiled at jouno made his stomach churn in a way that could only be described as anger, but why would he get upset over two of his coworkers just chatting? he wasn’t sure what was wrong with him, so he went to the one member of the hunting dogs who hadn’t been so wrapped up in their space; tachihara.

tecchou went up to the fake ginger and asked him simply about why his stomach burned every time you were around him, yet it also burned with anger when you talked to anyone that wasn’t him.

“i dunno man, sounds like you like her to me-”the other male shrugged. which led to tecchou realizing that he did, in fact, like you.

and that’s what led to now, three months after tecchou had so bravely walked up to you the same day he’d found out that he actually liked you and asked you for “the honor of being his girlfriend” and who were you to tell the (arguably) cutest hunting dog no?

the two of you were sat on your couch, watching another stupid movie that tecchou had picked out. he refused to watch any high tense hostage or action movies; insisting that he “hated people getting tortured for no reason”

you’d been staring at your boyfriend for the past two minutes, trying to telepathically tell him that you absolutely did not want to watch this movie anymore, but he obviously couldn’t get your wavelengths.

the male kept shoving his face full of his buttered popcorn mixed with mustard– something that had his breath smelling disgusting and you avoiding every kiss he’d tried giving you.

“ ‘hiroooo ” you whined out towards your boyfriend, which made him finally turn his attention towards you, popcorn crumbs and mustard stained over his mouth and somehow even on his nose. you could never understand how your boyfriend got so messy while eating; it was a true mystery.

“ yes, my love? ” he’d chirped out, titling his hair so his fluffy hair that you could play with for hours upon hours. “can we change it? this is so boring!”you sighed, leaning closer to him, trying to take the remote that was placed on his lap.

“but i like this–”the males words stopped short when you got closer to him. try as he might, tecchou suehiro was the type of man to basically malfunction whenever you got closer to him. his hands found their way to your waist, moving the remote off his lap, causing you to let out a groan. you were so close and of course your puppy of a boyfriend couldn’t realize what you were doing!

the male moved you onto his lap with a ease, looking up at you as you stared down at him,“ you’re so pretty, y/n.”he leaned up, going to kiss you. and even though you loved your boyfriend, you weren’t going to kiss his popcorn and mustard filled mouth.

you slightly turned, shaking your head before putting your forehead on his, rubbing your nose against his. and let me tell you, tecchou was gobsmacked.

he looked up at you with a small frown, still staying close to you,“my love, do you not want to kiss me?” he asked as you let out a laugh. “you’re breath stinks, ‘hiro. ”

tecchou was never the type to complain, so he’d take the smallest of nose rubs from you, even if it confused him for the first six seconds it had happened.

“ if i go brush my teeth, can i kiss you?” he asked softly

you never did end up getting that remote.

the ending kinda sucked, i’m sorry! but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated, thank you!!

[darkwing-katy]

I…can live with that, I guess? Thoughts on Evil’s final episode under the cut (aka SPOILERS)

-I’m sad in general that this show is ending and it will take me forever to recover from this show in the best way

-I guess my dream where I shoved Leland into a bathroom to keep him alive kinda worked???

-the main trio reliving their cases as they burn them was fucking adorable

-I’m gonna miss those girls so much

-the fuck are we gonna do about Lexis???? She seemed normal this season but, like, she had fangs and a tail and was born from a place tainted with demonic stuff. I wanna know how that resolves.

-okay so I guess since Timmy was baptized he can’t be the Antichrist? They were just gonna pivot and make another one? That’s fun.

-the sheer bureaucracy of the online meeting of the 60 had me cackling. “Norm. You’re muted.”

-NORM. IT’S THE BUTTON SHAPED LOKE A LOZENGE poor Leland has to deal with so much shit with these incompetent demons

-“you’ve protected Kristen for four years, Leland.” Uhm. What? He’s been protecting her? Why????? I NEED MORE OF THIS EXPLAINED TO ME????? It can’t just be the whole mother of the Antichrist thing, right???? THERE’S MORE TO IT.

-all things considered, I firmly believe Leland would not have actually killed Timothy. I dunno why; I can’t explain it. But I don’t think he’d do it. Not after that nice little drop of David’s goodness in him.

-Leland putting in earphones while creeping into the house to murder Kristen?? And singing and bopping along in the basement? Iconic. Iconic and adorable. I love him. I have a problem, I know.

-I WAS TRYING NOT TO FREAK OUT WHEN SHE CAME AT HIM WITH THE CORD (“oh shit, guess the bathroom didn’t work after all” was what I told my husband)

-but also the hilarious irony of Kristen strangling him with a red cord like that when that’s how Michael Emerson’s character kills John Locke in LOST???? Like I was stressing but also giggling like a psycho

-the reveal of the meaning behind the countdown was so on point for this show. This fucking show. (What about the bricks, though? Why did they want people to remove the bricks in Kristen’s basement?????)

-DAVID I DON’T THINK LOCKING HIM IN A CABINET IS ANY BETTER THAN STRANGULATION WITH A CORD???? IS HE JUST GONNA ROT IN THERE????

-(okay but all things aside, Leland technically didn’t die on screen and I love to imagine that he was released somehow) (o shit did I just come up with another fic idea????)

-FENNA!!!!!! FENNAAAAAAA!!!! THAT LIL SHOULDER BUMP!!!!!!!

-Kristen’s Dutch counterpart convincing her to move???? Wonderful

-Kristen and David in Rome??? With the girls and Timmy? And cool Italian sunglasses? Wonderful. 10/10. They get to be together but David doesn’t have to choose between her and God. Sure, there’s still sexual tension, but, they’re TOGETHER and not all meaningful relationships have sex as an active component

-BEN SHOULD HAVE GONE WITH THEM AND I STAND BY THIS

-THAT ENDING???? And the fact that Katja decided that was how Kristen should react on the fucking day of filming???? 10/10 no notes, only undeniable curiosity as to what would happen if we miraculously got a season 5

-that cliffhanger is satisfying but also I need a season five. And six. And seven eight nine.

Anywho. That’s, uh, about where I am right now. I’m extremely sad. I ate sushi and ice cream and it helped until it didn’t. I’m gonna continue rewatching the whole dang thing. I’m gonna finish rewriting my Leland fic. I might actually make the shirt I was joking about in an earlier post. Hell, I think the idea of a circle skirt with the map of the different demonic sigils would be amazing. And then I’m probably gonna wanna write more fanfic because I’m still in denial that it’s actually over.

But hey! In my head, Leland is not dead! That’s a win!!! Good job, Dream Kate! You sorta succeeded in protecting your favorite character!

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Whatcha doing?”

Keith’s voice right next to his ear startles Lance a bit, making Keith laugh quietly. Lance feels the rumble of it in his shoulder, where Keith is resting his head to peer at his work.

“My math homework.”

Lance feels rather than sees Keith make a face. “That’s not math. I don’t see a single number in all that. I don’t even see letters.”

Lance chuckles. “It’s just calculus, babe. It’s mostly symbols, sure, but still math.”

“Ugh.” Keith pulls away after pressing a kiss to Lance’s cheek, shaking his head. “That’s disgusting.” He starts haphazardly shoving his fancy pencils into their case, then into his backpack, followed by his sketchbook. “Your horrible homework made me lose my desire to do anything and everything school related.”

Shaking his head fondly, Lance returns his gaze to his worksheet. “You’re such a dork. It’s only math.”

“The fact that you can look at those equations and they not only mean something to you, but they make sense, blows my mind every day. I’m still half convinced you’re a witch.”

“Now is that the math, or the fact that I’ve put a spell on your heart?”

“Boo,” Keith says, cupping his hands around his mouth. “That was garbage. I’m reporting you to the horrible pun police.”

“Stop making me laugh,” Lance says, throwing an eraser at Keith’s head. “You’re distracting me.”

“Yeah, yeah, Doctor McClain. You could skip every single one of your lectures and still pass with a 95.”

Lance flushes, pleased by both the compliment and Keith calling him doctor. As much as he knows Keith is teasing — he absolutely does need to attend class, Lord above — his boyfriend’s faith in him always makes his insides all soft and squishy.

But he has an assignment to do. He’ll kiss his amazingly supportive boyfriend after.

Lance gets in the zone, so focused on problem after problem that he forgets where he is. Hell, he pretty much forgets that he has a mortal body. His brain is 100% Greek letters and the occasional graph. And Lance likes it that way. He likes math, and not in the cheesy Cady Heron ‘math is just the same in every language’ kind of way. He just thinks that so long as he’s doing it right, figuring out puzzles is fun, in the same way some people like writing, or drawing. There are annoying parts, sure — modular functions are stupid as hell and can kiss his whole ass — but for the most part, he’s a biomed engineering major for a reason. He has shit to design, and he’s only getting there if he understands how the world fits together.

Something small hitting him square in the head snaps him out of his focus.

“You are being absorbed into your textbook,” Keith informs him. “I’m losing ya, space cadet.”

Lance shakes his head a little, blinking. He realises suddenly that, holy shit, his eyes are burning. And his throat is as dry as the desert. And he’s starving. And his muscles are cramped.

“Jesus,” he says, “how long have I been sitting here?”

Keith shrugs, but his attention is no longer on Lance. “Dunno. My phone died forever ago, so that means either two minutes or two hours. I could not tell you.”

Lance snorts. He knows part of Keith’s ADHD means he’s not great with time. It doesn’t really matter, anyway. They’ve been here long enough that it’s long past time to take a break.

“What’ve you been doing, then?” Lance asks as he starts collecting his things to put away. “If your phone’s been dead.”

“Foldin’ stuff,” Keith replies absent-mindedly, tongue peeking out of his mouth as he does, indeed, fold some papers. Lance finally gets all his stuff packed away and then turns his full attention to Keith, humming curiously. Keith, like with everything artsy, is amazing at origami, and Lance is always amazed at how he takes a piece of scrap paper and makes a mini-sculpture.

“Like what?”

“Made you this bouquet,” Keith says. His attention is still mostly on the tiny square of pink paper in front of him, but he reaches over to the empty chair next to him and blindly searches for something. He makes a triumphant noise when he finds it, and sets a brightly coloured bouquet of intricately folded paper flowers on the table.

Lance gasps, carefully picking it up and looking at it closely. Each flower is folded to perfection, crisp lines and gentle bends in the paper making perfect imitations of Lance’s favourite flowers: golden dandelions, pink peonies, deep orange poppies.

“Holy shit, Keith,” Lance breathes. He looks at his boyfriend with wide eyes. “This is… these are gorgeous!”

Keith glances away from his project for a moment to shoot Lance a big, goofy grin. “Glad you like ‘em. They’re almost as pretty as you.”

“Charmer,” Lance says, rolling his eyes, but the ruddiness of his cheeks give him away. Keith knows it, too, grinning wider.

“This is for you, too,” he says, making a final fold on the pink paper. “Hold out your left hand.”

Lance does, stupidly giddy smile making his cheeks ache.

Keith has made a paper ring, folded so it makes a heart in the centre rather than a traditional circle-shaped knob. It’s as meticulously crafted as the bouquet. He slides it up Lance’s fourth finger, then presses a gentle kiss on the knuckle.

“Since you said we can’t get married until after we finish our undergrads,” Keith says, as playfully grouchy as he always is when he brings the subject up. “This will have to do.”

Lance laughs, sliding his hand from Keith’s grip so he can rest it on the side of his boyfriend’s cheek, stroking his cheek with his thumb. Keith goes cross-eyed trying to watch the movement, lips still pouted. Lance leans forward to kiss them.

“You are so dramatic,” he mumbles, still crowded in close. “One more year, okay? You can take me to the courthouse the day we graduate, if you would like.”

“Fine,” Keith huffs. He wraps his arms around Lance’s waist. “They second our caps get thrown, you hear me?”

Lance kisses him again. And again. And a third time, for good measure.

“I hear you.”

[ageless-aislynn]

Angst! 16

Fluff! 13

Misc.! 16

And… for characters I’m going to throw out Kai, Alenko, and Soap. Do whatever pairings or friendships you’d like. Also I’m not gonna die if you choose not to use those characters. Or prompts. I dunno, I just wanna read your stuff man.

*glee* Thank you SO much for sending some prompts my way! These are all pretty short but mark my first time writing 2 of the 3 characters, so I'm just carefully dipping a toe in the COD and ME pools, lol!

Thanks so much again! 😎👍

Angst 16. “Are you hurt?” “No.” “Then why are there bruises all over your face?”

Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish & Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley, Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Then why are there bruises all over your face?"

"You ought to see the other guy, Lt," Soap said with an unrepentant grin, unmarred by the fact his left eye was nearly swollen shut and he had a prominent cut on his lower lip.

Ghost sighed slightly behind his skull balaclava. "Sure I'll recognize him by all the bruises on his knuckles," he said dryly.

Fluff 13. Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

Kaidan Alenko/Commander Shepard, Mass Effect (reader's choice as to whether it's male or female Shep 😉)

"Are you flirting with me?"

"You finally noticed?"

Kaidan squinted, several Commander Shepards swimming in front of him in the dim bar lighting, all wearing fondly amused expressions.

"You are flirting with me!" he stated as if having uncovered a core secret of the universe.

Shepard's smile broadened. "Think it's time to take you home and tuck you into bed."

"I'm going home with Cmdr. Shepard," he proclaimed loudly to the crowd around them. Several people raised a glass in good-natured salutes.

"Yeah, they know." Shepard got an arm around him, sliding him off the bar stool and onto his feet. "Most of them were at our wedding, after all."

Misc 16. “YOU SAID TO BE HONEST STOP HITTING ME!”

Kai-125 & Vannak-134, Halo the series

"YOU SAID TO BE HONEST, STOP HITTING ME!"

John heard Kai's shout from the hallway outside of the Spartan quarters and shoved the door open to see—

He blinked. For a solid moment, he wasn't quite sure what he was seeing, actually. Kai vaulted over her own bed, being pursued hotly by Vannak.

"That wasn't honest," he said grimly. "You're just being mean."

"Look, it's not my fault that that penguin documentary was kinda lame and—"

"IT WAS NOT!" Vannak bellowed back and took a swing at her that would've definitely put a marine in the infirmary for a month, if not in the ground, permanently. For Kai, it would've at the very least mussed her hair. "Those penguins are adorable and—"

"Lame. Laaaaaame," she singsonged, ducking a flurry of punches, then doing a very impressive parkour run up the wall into a backflip that sent her soaring over the enraged Spartan's head.

"THEY'RE NOT LAME, YOU TAKE THAT BACK!"

John looked over at Riz, who was calmly sitting at a nearby table, reading something on her padd. She met his gaze, shrugged, and then went back to reading.

They crisscrossed the room rapidly, with Vannak coming close to getting his hands on her but, ultimately, Kai would manage to slip away at the last second. The entire time, she continued to issue penguin insults that, for some reason, the other Spartan took extremely personally.

John opened his mouth, about to say… something. Then he gave a slight shake of his head.

"I have paperwork to do," he announced to no one. "Don't I, Cortana?"

"I can find you some, Chief."

"That would be great," he said and just turned around and walked away.

Sentence Starters

[zablife]

Chocolate Chip Pancakes

Summary: Richie goes to jail and leaves Carm to watch Eva.

Author's Note: My first fic for The Bear so please be kind!

Warnings: language, mention of jail

“Cousin, you gotta get Eva for me. Just for tonight,” Richie begged as his hands were being restrained, a sudden clarity coming over him as he remembered his little girl was waiting across town.

“Yeah and what about you, dickhead?” Carmy asked. “Who else do you think is gonna bail you out?” he asked, looking at Fak doubtfully. Fak hung his head and retreated to the kitchen as the officers hauled Richie to his feet, shuffling him to the door.

“He’s not going anywhere until we get word from the hospital,” one of the cops barked, giving Richie’s elbow a shove.

“Please….and don’t tell Tiff,” Richie pleaded. Carm nodded in agreement. The last thing he needed on top of the property damage and assault charges was a visit from Richie’s ex-wife, screeching at him and tearing his stomach to shreds.

Pulling a cigarette from the pack, he watched his cousin get shoved into the back of the police cruiser and whisked away. Looking at his watch he realized he only had thirty minutes to get to Eva’s babysitter. 

—————————————

“Where’s Richie?” Izzy asked. 

“He had some stuff to finish up at the restaurant. I’m supposed to pick her up,” Carm said, trying to sound vague, yet convincing. 

Izzy furrowed her brow, scanning him up and down. He looked exhausted and had clearly come from a long shift himself. He smelled like grease and smoke, a hint of garlic. She knew Carm from school, but it had been a long time.

“Thought you went to New York or some shit. Are you really working at the Beef now?” she asked.

“Look, it’s late. Can you pack Eva’s bag, please?” he asked, shifting his weight uncomfortably. He didn’t like discussing his homecoming with people as it inevitably led to unwanted questions about his brother, Mikey. 

“Yeah, I’ll get her,” she said, leaving the door open for him to come inside.

—————————————

As they walked inside his tiny apartment, Eva asked, “Is Daddy coming?”

“No, um…he’s busy tonight,” Carm lied.

Eva looked around cautiously, taking in the stacks of cookbooks and haphazard piles of laundry and pots, strewn everywhere. “Don't you have a bed?” she asked, eyeing the couch made up with a pillow and blankets.

“Yeah, yeah…I got a bed,” Carm assured her. “Lemme show ya,” he said, ushering her down the hall to his room, unused even after months of occupancy. He opened the door to the sparse room, a mattress with a single sheet, nothing more.

Eva craned her neck as she took in the bare walls. “This is your room?” she asked.

“Mm-hmm,” Carm replied. 

“Are you sure?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, why?” he replied too defensively for her liking.

“You don’t have any posters or stuff in here. Where are your clothes?” she said, nose scrunched in disapproval.

Placing her bag on the floor, Carm scratched the back of his neck before indicating down the hall. “I…uh….I keep everything in the living room."

“Why?” Eva asked, thinking it was really weird this man had his own room, but never put anything in it. She had two rooms she'd decorated with all her important possessions. She thought about the stars on her ceiling at her dad's apartment and the rows of stuffed animals lining the bed at her mom's house.

“I dunno, the living room has a tv,” Carm mumbled as though that might serve as an answer. However, Eva continued to bore a hole into him and it unnerved him how many questions she asked. He thought she would be easier to look after.

“Look, your dad said you gotta go to bed. So, here’s your bed,” he said, pointing at the mattress. 

“Ok,” she nodded and Carm breathed a sigh of relief. “But I need a bedtime story,” she stated, eyes wide and hopeful.

“A story?” Carm said with a gulp.

Eva nodded vigorously as she plopped down on the mattress and patted the space beside her.

Carm ran a hand through his disheveled hair, feeling the ache in his gut and nodded. “Ok, yeah. A story….lemme think a minute,” he said, trying to remember something suitable for a child. What the fuck would Richie say, he thought? Probably something about the epic bar fight he'd gotten into alongside Mikey on St. Paddy's Day back in '02. Fuck, he couldn’t tell her that. Think, Carm! Tell the kid something wholesome, something fucking normal!

“Ah…once upon a time...” Yeah stories started like this, he knew they did. Keep going asshole, she’ll be asleep any minute now, he thought. “There were three bears...” Bears, yes! Bears were good. “They lived in a house and there was a little girl who broke in because she was like super rude or somethin’ and she couldn’t wait to go to sleep.”  Wait…fuck, he was tired. How did the story go? 

Eva giggled. “Do you mean Goldilocks and The Three Bears?” she asked in a pitying tone.

“That’s the one!” Carm nodded. 

“You’re not telling it right!” she scolded him.

“I’m not?” he asked with a chuckle.

“No!” she squealed. “The bears leave their porridge to cool and then Goldilocks comes to their house. She tries their porridge, then their chairs, then their beds!” she giggled. 

“You should tell the story, then!” Carm said with a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

Eva yawned, “I should!” 

“You’re tired,” Carm pointed out.

“I’m not!” Eva objected, bouncing on the bed.

“Ok, you’re not. But if you go to sleep now, I promise I’ll make you whatever you want to eat in the morning. What do you like?” Carm asked, voice dripping with desperation.

Eva thought for a moment and eyes glistening with mischief asked, “Anything?”

“Anything!" Carm promised, hoping for sleep in the near future.

“Alright, I want chocolate chip pancakes then. As many as I want!” she screamed. 

Carm held his ears and nodded. “Ok, ok. Chocolate chip pancakes. As many as you want. Just go to sleep, ok?”

Eva nodded in agreement and Carm shut out the light before tip toeing out of the room.

——————————

The next morning Carm woke to Eva pouncing on him, shaking his whole body with the force of a child giddy with excitement.

“Carmy, Carmy, wake up! You promised me pancakes!” she cried eagerly.

Sunlight had barely begun to stream thru the kitchen window, orange rays bathing the tiles in pale light as Carm sat up on the sofa dazed and confused. 

“What time is it?” he asked, shaking his head.

“Time to get up and make me breakfast!” the five year old announced.

“Right,” Carm announced with a cough, before rolling off the sofa toward the kitchen. He wanted a cigarette and a cup of coffee first, but gave up on the idea before his feet hit the floor. 

Eva clapped her hands, blonde hair dancing in the early morning light as she watched Carm drag a skillet from the bottom cabinet. 

She opened the refrigerator to find eggs and hauled the carton to the counter with a slight grunt. “Here ya go,” she proclaimed proudly.

“Thank you,” Carm replied, surprised she knew what ingredients to bring. 

“I help Daddy sometimes,” she responded with a shrug.

“That’s good,” he said. 

“You know what else we need?” he asked.

She shook her head and he hoisted her onto the counter to show her what other ingredients were required for their breakfast. As they continued their work, Carm found himself smiling. Eva was a smart girl and he enjoyed her company. 

“Time to flip the first one,” he told her and she edged the spatula under the pancake as he’d shown her. However, she flicked her wrist too harshly, sending the pancake flying through the air. It would have landed on the floor if not for Carm’s quick reflexes, catching it midair and redirecting it back to the skillet.

"Shit! shit! shit!" he exclaimed as the hot pancake made contact with his palm.

"You shouldn't say that," Eva scolded, holding her finger up to his face.

Carm inhaled deeply before agreeing, "You're right. Wanna try that again, chef?”

“Yes, chef!” she said with an eager grin.

“Alright, go again, hot shot!” he encouraged and she tried once more, landing in the pan this time.

“I did it, Carmy!” she yelled.

“Yeah, you did, kiddo! Good job!” he praised as the phone began to ring.

“One minute, ok?” he told her. “You got this?” he asked.

“Yup,” she replied, confidently.

Carm crossed to the other side of the kitchen to grab his cell, glancing over his shoulder to keep an eye on Eva. When he picked up, Richie was on the line, “Cousin, I got bad news…”

[daitranscripts]

Sera Conversation

Tell Me About Your Friends

Sera Masterpost

Available before The Verchiel March

PC: You apparently have a lot of “friends.” Tell me about your network.

If asked before Sera: Again? It hasn’t changed.

Sera: It’s not mine, right? I mean, it is, but it’s also everyone. Everyone who wants to shove it to nobles who hide behind gold and silk. And hats, I guess.

1 - Dialogue options:

Investigate: Was there ever a “Red Jenny”? [2]

Investigate: What does your group do? [3]

Investigate: I expected people from you. [4]

General: That’s all. [5]

2 - Investigate: Was there ever a “Red Jenny”? PC: Is Red Jenny real or was she always just you and your “friends”? Sera: Dunno. PC: Don’t you care? Sera: Not if it works. I mean, “red” is scary because… blood. And Jenny is… look, nobody fears the “bunch of people who do random stuff.” And besides, it’s easy. Nobles want a bogeyman, because they need to believe normal people can’t get at them.

Sera (female PC if flirted before): Numbers, yeah? An even spread is all it takes. Sera: Numbers, right? It don’t have to be so complicated.

Dialogue options:

General: Do you share the blame, too? [6]

General: That seems too casual. [7]

General: Someone must be in charge. [8]

6 - General: Do you share the blame, too? PC: Doesn’t this mean people think you’re guilty of more than you actually do? Sera: I suppose. Does it matter? PC: Shouldn’t it? Sera: “Important” people kill over imagined insults. I’ve made more than enough real ones, so no, I don’t suppose it does. [back to 1] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 7 - General: That seems too casual. PC: It seems like it should be more complicated than that. Sera: That’s why you’d be bad at it, and why I’m here. You don’t want to play, don’t play. That’s simple too. [back to 1] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 8 - General: Someone must be in charge. PC: So, do you take turns leading or something like that? Sera: There’s nothing to lead. Put a few favors in, take a few out. Stop, and you cut yourself out. Other than that, we stay out of each other’s way. Probably best. Some are right arses. [back to 1]

3 - Investigate: What does your group do? PC: Are you just about pranks and revenge, or is there more to it? Sera: Well, it’s a weave, right? I grease a ballroom, so a wyvern-chasing git has to hunt sprained. Strangely, handmaids leave his vault open. His heirlooms pay off someone else. Maybe clean streets in Kirkwall, so someone else gets something else. Pish, pish, pish. A lot of people eventually get help or a laugh. Or maybe someone dead, if they deserve it.

Dialogue options:

General: You pretend that’s moral? [9] -Sera slightly disapproves

General: Good to know. [10]

General: So you’re also killers. [11]

9 - General: You pretend that’s moral? PC: So who decides who deserves it? You? By what authority? Sera: Look, “dukey” cuts a stableboy’s finger off for snagging a biscuit, he’s eating an arrow for tea. Deserves it. Most times, it’s just fun. And embarrassed’s the same as dead for some. Anyway, assassin’s a bard’s job, innit? [12] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 10 - General: Good to know. PC: I’m glad I met you before someone decided what I deserved. Sera: You’re no hateful arse. So far. I’d just get you with a pie or something. Anyway, assassin’s a bard’s job, innit? [12] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 11 - General: So you’re also killers. PC: So you’re vandals, thieves, and murderers? Sera: If the mark’s a right arse, yeah. But maybe pantsing and clearing his vault do the trick. Embarrassed’s the same as dead for some of them. Besides, assassin’s a bard’s job. [12] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 12 - Scene continues. ㅤㅤ ㅤ Sera: No fun, that lot. They might plonk a noble, right, but only to raise another. Plus, I’m shite at singing. [back to 1]

4 - Investigate: I expected people from you. PC: Where are all the people you promised? Sera: If I knew, they wouldn’t be much use. That’s sort of the point. Look, unless your baddies are rocks or trees, they have people they use. Cooks, squires… wipers. Yeah, I know. Wipers, right? You better believe the ones with wipers deserve it right in the… Well, anyway, the little people will be there when you need them, in a million little ways.

Dialogue options:

General: Do they even know what you do? [13]

General: So it’s strength in numbers. [14]

General: How do you get anything done? [15]

13 - General: Do they even know what you do? PC: Seems like there’s no way the people who contribute could even know what they’re helping with. Sera: Don’t need to. Maybe some ask for a target, a note like. But maybe they plant something just to help mess with things. “I did something, and something happened.” That’s a wish for some people. Probably not Heralds. Anyway, sometimes I don’t even do anything, and people think I did, because something happened anyway. That’s good, too. Free payday. And free blame, right? But whatever. [16]

14 - General: So it’s strength in numbers. PC: So lots of little contributions add up in the background, like snowflakes that snap a branch. Sera: What? Uh, sure. Like snow. I guess. Anyway, it just works. Most of the time. Friend of a friend and little hints. Mind you, you still have to be smart. Don’t bet your life unless you’re into that.

Sera (female PC if flirted before): Risky, yeah, but you like a bit of a tease. [16] Sera: To be clear, I’m not into that. [16]

15 - General: How do you get anything done? PC: This doesn’t seem like it would produce much in the way of results. Sera: It’s working for you. What, is every follower of yours a giant, who does all things and knows your every move? Not your team of doers. I mean the people gathering. Is that normal because it’s religious? Seems like that should make it weirder. [16]

16 - Dialogue options:

General: Well, as long as it works. [17] +Sera slightly approves

General: I still don’t get it. [18] -Sera slightly disapproves

General: Sounds like a con. [19] -Sera slightly disapproves

17 - General: Well, as long as it works. PC: I can play along if it works for you. Sera: You have a choice? Hail the Inquisition. (Laughs.) [back to 1] ��ㅤ ㅤ 18 - General: I still don’t get it. PC: Nope, still not making sense. Sera: Doesn’t have to. Take it or don’t. Imagine you’re looting random crates if you like. You seem to find that satisfying enough. [back to 1] ㅤㅤ ㅤ 19 - General: Sounds like a con. PC: I think the whole thing sounds like a scam. Sera: So, feel free to complain every time I point you to a hand up, because you’ll still take it, right? Right, you will. [back to 1]

5 - General: That’s all. PC: We’ll talk another time. Sera: It’s all good, innit?

[lolotheparagon]

What non S- or A-list Batman villain would you like to see more of? I could really go for a good modern take on Crime Doctor (I'm not counting Villains United)

That’s the thing with Batman villains: outside of the Rogue’s Gallery with Joker, Penguin, Riddler etc., all the other cooler villains that are dripping with potential get shoved to the wayside or be D-list villain of the week fodder cos they’re not fantastical looking enough.

Remember that Hugo Strange was actually one of the Batman’s oldest foes, even older than Joker. And it wasn’t until Arkham City and the Gotham series when they made him an actually interesting character. Every other previous iteration just has him as the typical mad scientist you see in every superhero story.

So I definitely think we need more supervillains outside of the big boys, cos they’re so overdone it’s not even fun anymore. Outside of say Joker or Riddler, they’re all just stagnating the same character traits for decades. Which is why superhero and comic book adaptations are so drab nowadays.

So my personal D list villains that should get a comeback are:

Clayface - he’s been fodder for too long and the potential behind him being an accomplished actor and the ability to become anyone is just huge. Like why is the Harley Quinn show the only one that capitalised on this idea? I want more goofy Clayface instead of generic clay monster

Calendar Man - Im tired of the Zodiac Killer angle, make him a guy who commits crimes on completely random holidays and the crime relates to that holiday? Imagine him robbing banks on bank holidays or kidnaps every construction worker in Gotham on Labor Day. I dunno, just go nuts with the calendar aspect. Not every villain has to be a serial killer to be taken seriously

Hush - considering his past friendship with Bruce Wayne since they were childhood friends and were dark reflections of each other. I’m surprised he didn’t become just as popular as the other big guys in the Rogues Gallery. You can do a lot of interesting depths into Bruce Wayne as a character and how it relates to Hush, cos remember before Hush was this murderer who killed and skinned people to look like Bruce, Hush was a victim of abuse by his rich parents and tired of being treated like shit for so long, he killed them and became a professional surgeon. The only reason he was toppled off to the dark side was cos he was commited to Arkham and had the goddamn SCARECROW as his therapist. You can do a lot of tragic and sad stuff with Hush and his past friendship with Bruce, much like that scene in Fox in the Hound where Copper says to Todd, that those days are over.

Tweedledum and Tweedledee - WHY DIDNT MAD HATTER HIRE THESE GUYS TO BE HIS SIDEKICKS?? THAT’S GOLDEN COMEDY POTENTIAL

Killer Moth - make him the biggest butt monkey of all butt monkeys. I want him to be the Robbie Rotten of the Batman franchise.

Ratcatcher - guy who commands an army of rats just sounds funny to me

[wooahaes]

nature lover

pairing: non-idol!haruto x gn!reader

genre: fluff established relationship au.

word count: 0.9k.

warnings: n/a

daisy's notes: they r so <3 i love writing silly lil fics like this so much

As if to celebrate the season, one of your biology classes had the brilliant idea to bring everyone up to go on a nature walk through the fir trees. Luckily for you, this was the kind of thing you could enjoy. Other people, however… 

“Wait up.”

Sometimes you had to wonder how you ended up with a boyfriend like Haruto. He enjoyed nature enough, to be fair, but you knew that this class was just to fill a general education credit. The lecture part of this trip was over for now as your professor left you and your classmates to explore the immediate area a bit. While you’d been making observations, Haruto had been hanging close enough to you to hopefully keep you from wandering too far. All it took was one cool plant or an insect or a bird for you to get distracted sometimes (and Haruto knew: there was a reason why nature dates became rare when the two of you started dating, otherwise Haruto would hear more about what you were looking at than about you). 

So you drifted back, notebook in hand, as you waited for Haruto to catch up. The grass crunched underneath each of his steps, and soon enough he’d returned to your side, his hand resting between your shoulder blades. 

“Sorry,” he said softly. “Jeongwoo was asking me something.” 

You’d been trying to get your gloved fingers to pull a piece of bark off of a tree, the fabric catching too easily on the edge. “That’s okay,” you said. “You don’t have to stick by me the entire time—”

“I want to.” Haruto reached forward, bare fingers closing around the piece. With a firm enough tug, it broke off from the tree. “Is this enough?”

“Where are your gloves?” You looked up from the bark he was holding out to you, frowning.

Immediately, he looked away, shoving one of his hands back into his jacket pocket. “I dropped them, I think.” 

With a pout, you accepted the bark just to shove it into the plastic bag you had for collecting things. “Haruto…”

“I’m fine,” he said. “I’m not taking any notes, and it’s not too cold—”

Yet you let your bag fall off one shoulder, already unzipping it to root around inside. Eventually, you found what you were looking for, and pulled out the set of gloves you kept on hand specifically for Haruto. “There,” you said. “I don’t want you freezing out here.” 

He hid a smile as he pulled the gloves on, leaning forward to steal a quick kiss from you. “Thank you.”

You took his hand within your own, intertwining your fingers together as you guided him forward—swearing that you saw  few birds fly off in this direction. If you were lucky, you could maybe get a decent picture of one of them. Haruto quietly walked alongside you, hand holding yours as he lagged a step behind. Every time you looked at him, he seemed more interested in watching you and trying to find the birds you’d been telling him about.

“What?”

Haruto blinked. “Hm?”

“You’re staring.”

Immediately, he looked away, cheeks growing redder by the second. “I—” He cleared his throat. “You’re… cute when you’re like this.” 

It earned a soft chuckle from you. “Being a nerd?”

“When you’re excited about things,” he said.

“Until they distract me from you,” you sighed. “Hey, um…” You turned to face him, you hand pulling loose from his. “I’m really sorry for, uh, being this way. I mean… I haven’t really dated a lot of people before, but one of my exes told me I was way too intense about…” You paused, unsure of how to phrase it. So you gestured around you instead. “My love for this stuff.” 

Haruto frowned as he watched you. “You don’t have to apologize.” 

“No, I do,” you said, “because I really like you, and I really don’t want you to think that I don’t care about you. I like our dates even though we kinda had to move them inside permanently for a while. I like you. I just… I dunno—If I see something interesting enough, I can’t not get a closer look.”

“You’re passionate about it,” Haruto said, taking a step closer to you. He took your face in his hands. “And we’re working this out. The only reason I asked to stop doing things outside is so we could get to know each other better. And now… I’d like to go on picnics with you again.” 

Something about the soft tone of his voice made you nearly tear up. “I’m not too intense?”

“You’re cute,” he chuckled. “And I know you’re serious about me. Don’t apologize for being passionate about nature. It’s nice to see how much you care.” 

You smiled, and leaned in to steal a soft kiss from him while no one was around to notice. Yet the moment you heard the rustling of leaves, Haruto pulled away, looking up toward the trees.

“There!” He pointed out where a red bird had flown to another tree. He quickly took your hand, already guiding you. “I saw which way it went! We can still get a picture if we’re quiet—”

And, oh, how your heart swelled a little to know how much Haruto cared about you. You’d buy him whatever hot drink he wanted later, and thank him with another kiss, too. 

taglist: @twancingyunhao

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Eight (Part 3)

“What was all that about?” He demands as he rounds on me, blocking the door like he’s afraid I’m going to try and go back in and finish her off. I can’t say anything to him, I can only start crying, floods of tears drenching my face and my hands shaking uncontrollably. He rakes a hand through his hair and starts pacing in a circle. “Were you seriously trying to fight my sister?”

“It was a mistake.” I blubber. “My rings got stuck in her hair”

“And all that I saw about you calling her a bitch and shoving her across the bar, that was a mistake too?”

“She came at me first!”

“Look, whatever is going on with you two, whatever the details of your falling out are, it’s nothing to do with me. I don’t honestly care about it, but you can’t be showing up here absolutely pissed drunk and trying to fight each other in front of a packed bar That’s the stupidest fucking thing ever.” He stares at me with wide, urgent eyes. “What is going on with you lately, Evie? What’s all this?”

“There’s nothing.”

“You’re drinking all the time.”

“I’m just having fun.”

“You aren’t. I’ve done… this.” He throws a hand up in my direction. “I’ve drunk myself into a state a few times and there isn’t anything fun about it. Not enough to keep going back and doing it over and over again.”

“I don’t do this every time.” I insist as the adrenaline starts to exit my body and my legs threaten to give out underneath me. I slide down the wall and sit on the cold, wet ground. “Just this time and last time.”

“Get up off the ground.” He says, and when I don’t he doesn’t push it. “It’s not just the drink, it’s all of it. You’re acting weird, you have weird friends…” 

“I don’t care if they’re weird. At least they’re not like the people here.”

“And what’s wrong with the people here?” 

“They’re shit.” 

He sighs, resigned. “Look, I know how Kelly is, like, I had to live with her for eighteen years so I get it, but she doesn’t have it easy. She’s having a hard time in college, and she’s not that good at making friends anymore…” 

“Maybe because when people try and be nice to her she calls them a bitch and tells them to fuck off and die.”

“She didn’t say that.”

“She did!” 

He crouches down next to me and lets his head hang low, shaking it from side to side. “Well I’m sorry if she did, then. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Maybe I did.” I say. “I think I was a bad friend.”

“I doubt that. Ye were just a bad pairing.”

“Maybe.” I sniffle “You really think?” 

“I dunno. You were always too soft for her. And you’d let her run around all over you at different times. It was like sometimes you’d be doing things it was obvious you didn’t want to be doing.”

“It was hard to say no to her.”

“Maybe you have a hard time with saying no in general, do you think?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Shane starts picking up pieces of gravel from the ground and tossing them across the alley and I shut my eyes for a minute or so and listen to the repeated clicking noises they make as they hit the pub wall opposite. 

I take a deep breath and sigh. “You went to Jen’s party.” A statement, not a question. 

“Yeah.”  

“You never said.”

“Didn’t think I needed to.”

“Was it any good?”

“Yeah it was alright.” A pause. “She’s a bit different.”

“Did you think so?”

“Yeah, I dunno why I’m saying that, she didn’t do anything out of the ordinary or anything, she just looked very different to me, was talking about some of the stuff she gets up to now it’s… I dunno. She’s different.” I know what he means. I felt the same way when I met her, and I recall her grey complexion and her shaky hands with ease, because to me they were the most surprising new things about her. She’d been the pink-cheeked picture of health before, and now… 

“And was he there?” 

Shane stops throwing the little stones momentarily and holds one between his thumb and forefinger in thoughtful examination. “Who’s that, now?”

“You know who I mean.” 

He hesitates. “He was.” 

“And how is he?”

“He’s the same.”

“The same?”

“Yeah, like, he’s the same as ever. I dunno what to say about him.”

“Did he talk about Berlin?”

“A bit, yeah.” 

“Did he ask about me?” 

Shane looks right at me and I feel exposed. Never would I have dared to ask a question like that while sober and he knows it. We never talk about this and I’m tired of it. I want to know the answer. I repeat my question: “Did he ask about me?” 

“Evie… you have to learn to let these things go.”

“It’s just a question.”

“You can’t be asking this of me. You have to stop with all this… hanging on to the past. Kelly, Jude, they’re gone. Just let them go.”

“I want closure.”

“Well you don’t always get to have it.”

“But he… they both hurt me. I just want to know why.”

“There doesn’t need to be a why, though. Sometimes shit just happens, sometimes it’s the wrong person, sometimes it’s the wrong time. You have to keep on moving forward with your life.”

“I’m afraid I’ll never stop thinking about him.” 

“You will.”

“Sometimes I think I can and then something else happens and I remember him all over again. It’s a horrible cycle. And look.” I reach for my phone and navigate to Instagram, scrolling through it until I find the picture I saw earlier. The drawings of me. “Have you seen these?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Why would he draw this?” 

Shane stares at my phone for some moments and then shakes his head, leaning his head back against the wall while making a “psssh” sound with his mouth. “Who knows why. Maybe he likes drawing you.” He glances at the screen again. “You’re younger in them. Longer hair, like. I’d say he did them during the summer before he left.”

“Why would he spend so long on them? Put so much detail in?”

“Well, I don’t know. Maybe because he was in love with you or something.”

“How could he have been?”

He looks at me with this desperately sad expression like he feels sincere pity for me at that moment. “God’s sake, Evie.” He says with exasperation. “What do you think about yourself at all? Do you just tell yourself rotten shite all day inside your head? Why wouldn’t he have been?”

I laugh with derision. “He didn’t act like he was.”

“Did he not?” 

I don’t answer him and his words hang in the air between us as old memories begin to drift out of hidden places in my mind and unfurl themselves, revealing things I forgot that I knew. Secret glances meant for nobody else, tiny, inconsequential touches that gave me the kind of explosive feelings that I’ve been uselessly searching for ever since. 

“Shane, I think I am very twisted up and fucked in the head, and I think there’s something wrong with me.” I state, panic creeping in. “Sometimes I don’t know what’s real and what I’ve made up and told myself is true.”

“You’re alright.” He says. 

“I think that’s why I can’t keep anyone consistently in my life.” I continue with rising madness. “And I lose everybody in the end.”

He wraps his arms around his knees and looks out over the deserted car park nearby. “That’s how it goes, like, it’s the way the world works.” He says. “Everything you lose, everybody you lose is just exchanged for something else. I don’t know if I believe in everything happening for a reason or whatever, but maybe losing Jude was the cost to keep your world spinning in the right direction.”

I wipe my nose and stare at him, surprised by the profoundness of his statement. “Do you think my world is spinning in the right direction now?”

He shrugs. “It’s turning the way it’s turning. Maybe you’re meant to learn something from this.” 

“Maybe.” I say, “God, Kelly was right about you. You really are secretly smart.”

“Secretly? I do science in UCD.”

“Whatever. Yes. Secretly.” I chance to lean my head on his arm in a gesture of fellowship. As I expect, he doesn’t attempt anything comforting, but he doesn’t shove me away in disgust either, so it’s a win in my eyes. 

Tonight he’ll sit here and let me hold onto the sleeve of his cotton shirt, and tomorrow we’ll go on and pretend this never happened. We will never admit this moment to ourselves or anyone else for as long as we live.

Prev // Next

[project-sekai-facts]

Maybe they'll overlap events with world link but you have to choose which event to give points to before a live. Because i think the problem with having two events at once isn't with players having to choose between the two (most people already have to do that when two events they like are in a row) but with the leaderboards overlapping.

Assuming the event bonuses are calculated separately, let's say someone has a team that's 360% (all event 4*s and 2 cards matching unit and attribute) for the wxs event, and worth 0% for the nightcord world link (not including all the stuff with support unit).

The n25 event will get about 20% of the points that the wxs event will, meaning that if T1 for wxs is at 200,000,000 (the current estimated T1 for curtain call on en, as i can't access jp history atm), that same person will have about 40,000,000 for n25, which could put them near T100. And that's with two popular groups together, it would only get worse if you combined l/n or mmj with one of the more popular 3.

So separating the leaderboards by only allowing points to go to one event at a time would prevent this problem. Now of course it's only a matter of time to see if colopal makes a logical choice for once or if world link events are hell.

Actually this reminded me of something anon. I went over it in that 3rd anniversary master post but WLEs do have their own unique event bonus system. It lets you have a team specifically for boosting event bonus (smth that is in most other idol games by default) which can have like 12 cards I think it was on it. None of these cards contribute to your actual score but they will boost the bonus significantly. Which would actually make it WAY easier to grind event points because you can get more from less. So what I’m thinking now is maybe WLEs will be in a separate lobby, like how ranked match has its own lobby and leaderboard.

But also maybe I’m overthinking it. Like obviously the more points for less songs score bonus system is designed because of the fact each chapter of the event only lasts 3 days, so maybe they’ll just shove the support team builder on the event page. But then again the whole more for less would also be useful if you were trying to rank another event at the same time. Not to mention this event having a story that works differently to a normal event story, a unique gacha, probably not having a specific banner character due to the story focusing on every member, and the fact it starts at the time October 3 would probably end on a normal schedule (8pm on Nov 8th)… I dunno maybe this is like its own thing. Clpl please just actually tell us what the fuck is going on.

Whatever happens there will probably be changes made to the event by the time we get to the VBS one.

[mxzenpai]

Hello I absolutely love your writing! There just something about ur stories that make me happy Yknow?

Would it be possible to request Ace x reader who is home sick?

Thank you for your hard work and if you don’t take requests that’s fine too ahaha :))

Ace Trappola x Reader

No Place Like Home

The students of Twisted Wonderland treat you kindly, but you still can’t help but feel a little homesick.

Another request yay! Sorry if it’s short or not exactly what you were going for. I see Ace as someone who would try and keep the mood light despite the seriousness of it so I tried to play into him being casual, but still concerned. I hope that’s okay!

————————————————————————

A frown sits on your lips as you listen to the music playing through Ace’s phone. It wasn’t like the song was bad or anything, you just find yourself missing artists you were familiar with. Ace lets out a groan, throwing his pencil down.

“I don’t get it! This assignment is stupid.” He leans on his hand, going and picking up his phone to focus on that rather than the already delayed assignment that’s due tomorrow. You let out your own sigh, placing your own pencil down.

“Ace you already delayed working in this. It’s your fault for ignoring the essay ‘til last minute.” Ace huffs, giving you a glare when he glances up from his phone, but you’ve already gone back to writing. “And can you turn the music off?” Ace pauses for a moment. You’re normally fine with him playing music.

“What? Got a headache or something?” You shake your head no, not making eye contact. Ace leans forward, attempting to catch your gaze that remains on the table. He looks a little silly doing it, not that he cares. “Then what’s up?” You shove him back gently so he doesn’t hurt his neck.

“Nothing just- I dunno.” You play with the fabric of your sleeve. “It’s making me miss home. I want to listen to my music you know? Music that I’m familiar with and…I can’t.” You frown before waving your hand. “It’s stupid. I know, don’t worry abo-“

“The only thing that’s stupid is that you think missing your home is stupid.” Ace is blunt and straight to the point with it, not that he exactly cares. “Listen, missing music you know isn’t weird. It’s something that you’d never think you’d miss.” Ace leans on his hand, elbow resting on the table.

“Yeah but-“

“Shut up.” Ace cuts you off quickly. “I’m sure music isn’t the only thing you’re missing. I’m not an idiot.” You go to protest that last statement but stop when Ace stares at you blankly. “We can try recreating stuff? Like food, or maybe even the music.” You sigh, placing your head down on the table.

“I’m not musical though, I don’t know the exact notes people use…and I also don’t know exact recipes. I don’t even have my old phone! I’m…” You let out a shaky breathe. “I’m starting to forget what they look like Ace.” Ace reaches his hand forward, running his hand through your hair in an attempt to comfort.

“I knew it was more than just the music.” He mumbles, silently reveling in the fact that he was right. “We’ll find a way back. We can talk to someone about synthesizing a photo based off of descriptions or something, I don’t know. We’ll figure something out ‘kay?” You look up at Ace to see him giving you a toothy grin.

“You sure?” Ace nods.

“Yeah, don’t sweat about it. You got me and a whole other loads of people who’d be willin’ to help you remember stuff. Or hey, even make this place feel more like home for you. Let’s go make some food and you can tell me about the music you like, maybe sing a few lines.” Ace stands, collecting his stuff and yours to get ready to carry it.

“You gotta finish the assignment though.�� You stand alongside him, tsking as he takes your bag for you, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Nah, my priorities have shifted. I can just do it tonight. Now then, off to the kitchen and hopefully we won’t destroy anything.” You two begin to walk together, Ace wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Do you even know how to cook?”

“Hopefully we won’t destroy anything!”

“ACE!”

A few days later you found yourself standing outside the door of the light music club, listening with a smile on your lips as they attempt to figure out the notes for the song you sang to Ace. You’ll have to thank him later.

[cq-studios]

I’d love to hear your thoughts on Ephemer!

First Impression

Honestly, I’m not too sure. I think I was pretty indifferent to him at first, mostly because I hadn’t actually played the game/experienced the cutscenes. I watched Tennelle and Whitney’s recap of it so I was just hearing about what he did, not necessarily about him.

But I guess since he kept ditching people (Player, Skuld, Player again, but this time in Wreck it Ralph), I figured he was kind of a flake. I found that amusing more than anything tho.

Current Impression

He.

I’m a massive fan of all the NULs, but Ephemer is in the top spot very often (and Skuld is normally right there with him but she’s not who we’re talking about right now). I probably should have more to say but like I dunno

Favourite Moment

Ooh this one is tough.

I’m tempted to say when he comforts Skuld about, you know, how the is literally ending by saying “It’s not over til it’s over”, because it is simultaneously the most human and unhelpful thing to say, and it makes me laugh every time.

But there’s also the scene where he first meets Player, which I also think is fun.

Idea for a Story

I’ve had a little AU idea for awhile where, after Union X, Ephemer figures out that he’s never gonna see his friends again and uses the Unchained State to switch worldlines to one where the glitches hadn’t started yet.

He’d have memory loss with a subconscious feeling that something isn’t right, a la Sleeping Realm Theory. So like, he starts noticing that details of past events are different than what everyone else remembers, he’s much clingier than usual and doesn’t seem to know why, or he sees Player and breaks down out of a guilt he can’t remember ever having.

Skuld notices something is off pretty quickly, and Ephemer feels the same. So they, with the help of Brain (who they also roped into this), try to work out what’s going on. Eventually they’d figure it out, and Ephemer would go back to his original worldline.

I’m not entirely sure what would push him to go back. Maybe reading his Book of Prophecies and learning that Brain wouldn’t have a world to appear in if he didn’t. Or learning that he can move on (about Scala and his kids and stuff), once again with the help of the BoP. Or maybe the glitches start again, and the world ends again, and he realizes that there’s nothing he can do to change what he went through. He just has to accept it. Or you know, some combination of those.

I started writing this a bit ago but haven’t gotten very far. Don’t know if I’ll ever finish it but I’m still working on it on and off.

Unpopular Opinion

Uhh, I’m not entirely sure to be honest…

Like I don’t think I have one??? But I’m also not even quite sure what would be considered a popular opinion about him???

Favourite Relationship

Him and Skuld.

I love their friendship. I love that Kingdom Hearts lets a guy and a girl just be friends, and close one’s at that.

I feel like they have a very teasing friendship (definitely a believer of the prank wars dynamic for them), but like, if push comes to shove, they will stick together through the actual end of the world. I find so much comfort in that, even if in the end they get separated.

Favourite Headcannon

Dude’s a massive conspiracy theorist, and I like that for him. Especially because he ends up in a position of power and, due to the all but normal circumstances, I’m sure that suddenly the conspiracies that he would’ve believed were about him and his friends.

I live for this concept but have no clue how to apply it in a practical way.