#i guess this is also a reminder for all fic writers

[crescentmoonrider]

so it's been 3 days since the site disappeared and at this point im just assuming FFn is dead for good :/

so if you followed me or any of my fics over there, well. you know. i'm on AO3 under the name Yumi_Take

right now all my fics are set to registered users only bc of a scraping bot for gen-AI problem, but hopefully i'll be able to go back to getting everything in the wild soon. so uh, yeah

thats sucks i guess

[hoshinasblade]

you are so close to gaslighting yourself into thinking that maybe, just maybe you have already told hoshina's mom in the past what your favorite tea is.

the problem with that thought is today was the first time you met the mother of your boyfriend.

you denied it in your head - for all you know, perhaps mrs. hoshina is just really a good at guessing. that, or you are going batshit crazy.

because at that very day, people you have met for the first time - people who may be friends with hoshina soshiro but are practically strangers to you - seem to be aware of small details about you.

captain ashiro complimented you on your blue dress after shaking your hands, saying it's obvious why it is your favorite color, emphasizing how it brings out the intensity of your eyes. even okonogi, who you know works directly with the third division's vice-captain, had a specific joyful aura on her friendly face as she offered to hang out with you in the future, mentioning how she is a fan of true crime documentaries too and suggesting in the same breath that you should try the pudding sold in the headquarter's cafeteria.

you could have let all of that go if only you did not blush like a teenager after hoshina's own older brother called you by your childhood nickname during family dinner.

"i'm sorry." hoshina's hand found yours, his thumb drawing patterns on your wrist. he knows you'd been on edge since morning, and although this is entirely your idea - meeting his friends and his family in one day - he wouldn't blame you if you're overwhelmed.

"they did their research on me or something," you tried to laugh the nerves away. it didn't work.

"ah." hoshina suddenly looked guity. " that. well -" he stopped for a moment, gathering his wits, choosing the right words to say. "i mean, it makes sense that everyone who actually knows me would know about you, really."

you wanted to joke as a response; you wanted to say that he's talkative and tends to yap for hours about stuff he loves so yes, people around him would naturally know things about you. but then you caught yourself because this is yet another confirmation of what hoshina soshiro had been telling you for months now - that you are someone he loves.

you did not know being known could feel this sweet.

"huh. do you reckon i can extort them for information about you next time?" this time it was your turn to grab hoshina's hand, and with your forefinger, you traced three little words on the warm skin of his palm.

[author's note: hello guys, i know i haven't been posting a lot anymore, but i am thankful to everyone who still remembers this blog - yes i can read your asks, yes i see that you've tagged me in a fic, yes i checked my notifications in this blog every now and then. it might take me long to respond most of the time so apologies in advance but please know that i appreciate all interactions from everyone.

also i dont need to remind you but i don't tolerate copy-pasting or reposting any of my works anywhere. i read a lot from here too, and other writers can attest to this as well - we know if a line or a paragraph from any of our works is copied and/or reworded. ]

[stormyelliotwritez]

Hey could you write batfam x male reader who is Jason's secret brother? Like batfam as in Bruce, dick, Jason, Tim and Damian, and like after Jason's death and resurrection they finally figure out that Jason had an older brother? Jason hardly remebers him because 1. He died and his memories are a bit fuzzy and 2. He was very young when he last saw his brother. I feel like the male reader took care of Jason, but at some point to try and give Jason a better life he left for sile shady work that promised a good amount of money, that would help Jason stay afloat? And after the batfam find out they obviously try to find him, and Bruce obviously tries to adopt him (even if he's an adult) so he can be reunited with his brother

yes yes yesssss. I was just going to write headcanons but I ended up with too many ideas so have a mini fic! I don't have the best grasp on the whole resurrection part coz I haven't read under the red so that'll be a bit vague. I'm so sorry this took so long. I got crazy writers block but here it is. Tell me if you want more of them or like headcanons because I'm lowkey obsessed with Jason having an older brother.

—————————————————————————

"Hey Bruce, why isn't Jason the first Todd that comes up when you look up Todd death report?" Dick asked as he walked into the Batcave and sat down on the table behind Bruce.

Bruce turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow. He had no idea what his son was talking about as he'd never looked up the reports. He knew his son had died and he hadn't wanted to know anything more. He'd failed his son, and he didn't want to be reminded of it.

"He's the only Todd I'm aware of," Bruce turned his chair around and looked at his eldest son, "Jason doesn't have any relatives."

Dick turned his laptop around and right at the top of the report, it said Y/N Todd. The cause of death just said explosion and body not found.

"Does that sound suspicious to you as well, Bruce?" Dick asked as he leaned forwards slightly.

"Go ask Tim to look more into it," Bruce turned his chair back around, "and don't tell Jason. We've only just got him to stay so there's no need to spook him."

Dick nodded and then walked out of the Batcave.

                                                        ~~~~~~~~~

A few days had passed, and Dick hadn’t brought it up to Bruce again. He had gone and asked Tim though and sworn him to secrecy. He didn’t talk to Jason much, so it wasn’t that hard anyways.

Jason was sitting in the library when Dick came in and seemed to be second guessing himself.

“You don’t read,” Jason said bluntly without looking up from his copy of Pride and Prejudice.

“I totally read,” Dick stumbled through the sentence as he walked over and sat down on an armchair opposite from Jason, “What are you reading anyways?”

Jason looked up at him, confused. What the fuck is Dick on, was all he was thinking. Dick was being nice, and he was normally nice, but this was awkward. This was like the same level of awkward he’d been for the first few days that Jason had been living at Wayne Manor. He had been so confident but also such a nervous wreck.

“Pride and Prejudice. Did you get sprayed with some drug on patrol?” Jason asked as he looked his older brother up and down.

“Nope nopity nope. I just wanted to hang out with you,” Dick said as though that explained why he was more skittish than a newborn kitten.

Jason nodded and then went back to reading. “I don’t remember him that much,” he said offhandedly as Dick went to stand up.

“How did you-” Dick said as he swung around and almost tripped over his feet.

“Tim talks a lot when he’s tired and you’re holding a coffee that he so desperately wants,” Jason replied with a shrug.

Dick’s jaw dropped. “You’re not mad that I’m snooping in your business? When you were little, I touched one of your first edition books and you cried for days.”

Jason’s head turned to look at Dick in two seconds flat. “I what?”

Dick’s eyebrow raised as he stared blankly at his little brother. “You don’t remember?”

The two of them stood silently as they processed what had been said. Jason hadn’t thought he’d lost that much. Dick hadn’t realized that either. He hadn’t realized Jason had lost anything. They didn’t talk much. Talking hurts and they’re both fragile which is seeming to be a trend in this family. (Bruce pay for therapy challenge???)

They stayed in silence for a few minutes before the door opened again and Damian walked in.

“Tim snitched. Your brother worked for some gang guy in Star City until he somehow quit. He’s back in Gotham for the next two weeks staying with,” Damian looked down at his phone and raised an eyebrow, “Selina?”

“How does Tim still keep his identity secret? Wait, so like dads on-off girlfriend, Selina?” Dick asked as he looked at their youngest brother with his eyebrows raised.

“Do we know any other Selinas, big bird?” Jason asked as his head swivelled to look in Dicks direction again.

Dick shrugged and seemed to be thinking. “So, we could just call Selina and ask about your mysterious brother?” He said observantly.

Damian sighed in frustration. “Yes, lets just call up Selina and ask her if she’s hosting Jason’s supposed to be dead brother!”

“It’s a good idea,” Dick tried to protest as he looked to Jason for backup. Jason raised his hands as if to say nope don’t involve me.

“No, it’s not. It’s really surprising that you’re not father’s actual son. You’re both stupid,” Damian replied as he scrolled on his phone until he found what he was looking for. His face lit up and he showed the screen. “There’s a gala on tomorrow. Selinas bound to go just to flirt with father, and she’ll probably take Y/N.”

“Ok, that is a better idea than mine,” Dick muttered as he crossed his arms and sulked.

“All of demon brats ideas are better than yours, Dickybird,” Jason said as he sat back down and reopened his book.

                                                  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night of the gala couldn’t come quick enough. Bruce was sitting at the kitchen table in his suit a good hour before they had to go and at that point, he wished he’d hadn’t broken his earbuds the day before. Jason and Tim were shouting at each other in the main first floor bathroom and Damian was about to tackle Dick for making him wear a blue tie. Cass and Steph were on a video chat with Barbs because she was currently at a tech conference so couldn’t make it.

Five minutes before they had to leave, Damian ran out of some room with Dick chasing him. Jason and Tim both tried to run out of the bathroom door at the same time, so Tim slammed into the wall. Steph and Cass walked calmy into the kitchen and laughed at the boys running rampant. Duke had offered to go on patrol solely because he didn’t want to go to the gala.

They all left the mansion and clambered into multiple cars.

                                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The gala was bustling, and Bruce made his entrance followed by his entourage of children. The questions started up, but all Jason could think about was whether his older brother was there. Dick was standing close to him and swatting away any stuffy aristocrats who wanted to say how much he looked like the Wayne son who had died as a child.

Tim dragged his feet across the gala to where Dick and Jason were standing. He flopped onto the chair next to Jason and slammed his head down onto the table.

“No coffee?” Dick asked as he leaned against the wall and death stared another aristocrat who wanted their weekly Wayne drama fix.

“When have any of these events ever had coffee and I’m too young to drink and also Y/N is at the bar,” Tim rambled as he sat up straight and rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

“You’re like 18, I was drinking from like 15,” Jason started before his brain caught up with the whole sentence, “The bar?”

Tim nodded and fell forwards again. Dick put his hand out at a speed that could rival Wally and caught his younger brothers head. He nodded at Jason who jumped out of his chair and started briskly walking towards the bar.

At the bar, there sat a guy who looked to be in his 30s with bright red hair. A champagne glass was seated in front of him, and he was staring off into space.

Jason walked over and sat down next to him. He didn’t say anything but instead asked the bartender for a gin and tonic and glanced next to him. Y/N looked just like the fuzzy memories he had of him.

“You new around here?” Jason asked as he waited for the bartender to finish his drink.

The guy who was most likely his older brother didn’t say anything in response. He just sighed and sipped his champagne.

“Haven’t seen you at one of these before. You, uh, came with Ms Kyle?”

The guy gave him a nod in response as he rolled up his sleeves slightly. Jason looked down and saw the burn scar from when they’d been making pasta when he was little. His jaw dropped slightly before he recovered quickly. This was absolutely his older brother so what was he supposed to do now?

“I’m Jason Wayne,” he said so as to not spook Y/N.

“Y/N Todd,” Y/N glanced at Jason, “You look like someone I used to know. Have we met before?”

Jason laughed nervously. “If you’ve come to a gala before, probably.”

“Yeah, probably,” Y/N stood up from the chair, “Well I think Selina wanted an early night so I should go. Nice meeting you.”

Jason sighed as his older brother walked away. He downed his gin and tonic before standing up and walking over to where Dick was still sitting with Tim. He sat down on a free chair and leaned his head on the table.

“So?” Dick asked cautiously as he moved his hand out from under Tim’s forehead.

“He’s my brother,” Jason said tiredly.

Dick gasped and leaned in closer. “So, what you going to do about that, little bird?”

“No idea,” Jason said as he sighed.

                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later, Jason was sitting in the library again when Tim ran inside. Jason looked up from his book and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“He’s been spotted. Cass saw him. Dick’s waiting for you at Wayne Industries,” Tim said out of breath.

Jason placed his book down and ran out of the library. He sprinted down to the Batcave and got changed into his suit. He ran to his bike and pulled out of the cave. He drove down the highways and roads and felt the wind pushing against him. It felt just like how when he was younger, and it was just him and his older brother against the world. He flew down streets and side alleys. He pulled up in front of Wayne Industries and saw Dick sitting on a brick wall nearby. Their comms crackled to life.

“Cass has him and Selina on the roof of Wayne Industries, come on,” Dick said before he ran at the building and started scaling it.

Jason followed suite. The two of them made it to the top in record time and looked around. Cass waved from where she was standing and chatting to Selina. Jason’s older brother was leaning against the staircase door with a frown on his face as he glanced around.

Jason watched him for a moment. He had red hair just like how he did when he didn’t dye it. He was wearing a leather jacket like he did. He had a mask on which resembled the Robin one but not fully. It looked more like a masquerade mask. He was wearing boots, a pair that looked like ones Jason remembered sitting by their childhood apartments door. His older brother looked just like he remembered but also nothing like the teenager he’d idolized.

There was a scar above his eye. There was a necklace around his neck with a black rock. His hair was short and clipped, unlike when they were younger,

 and it sat above his shoulders. He looked so grumpy. Jason had never seen his older brother look that annoyed. He’d always been patient and kind.

“Selina, can we go? I didn’t come all this way just to stand around and chat with your boytoys kids,” Y/N said loudly, interrupting Jason’s thoughts.

Selina turned from Cass and scoffed. “Yeah, you came so far, all the way from Star City and your sad little retail job,” she said sarcastically before turning back to Cass.

Y/N rolled his eyes and finally noticed Jason and Dick. “He has more? How many of you vigilantes are there? Does he grow you in like a lab?”

“One of us was actually,” Dick said as he took a step forward, so he stood in front of Jason, once a protective big brother, always a protective big brother.

“Long story? Yeah, I’m getting used to that,” Y/N shook his head before he glanced at Jason, “What you staring at me like that for?”

Jason tilted his head slightly before taking off his helmet which caused Dick to groan.

“Secret identities, little bird,” Dick said annoyed as he slapped his forehead.

“Oh, shut up,” Jason stepped around Dick, “It’s me, Jason.”

Y/N took a step back and slammed against the wall. “You’re dead.”

Cass turned from where she was talking to Selina and rolled her eyes before resuming their conversation.

“Surprise?” Jason said with jazz hands. “I think we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Y/N nodded and took off his mask. “Yeah, I think we do.”

                                    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks later…

Y/N, Bruce and Jason were sitting around the manor’s dining table. Bruce was leaned forwards and staring Y/N down. Jason was leaned back and smiling. He hadn’t stopped since he got Y/N back. Y/N looked like he was about to run out of the room.

“Jason, tell your creepy dad he can’t adopt me. I’m a grown ass man who isn’t going anywhere anyways,” He said as he scooted his chair slightly further away from Bruce.

“Hey, he’s still trying to figure out if he can adopt me and I’m legally dead,” Jason said as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“So am I!” His brother replied exasperatedly.

“I already adopted you, Jason,” Bruce leaned back in his chair, “Found a technicality.”

Jason turned quickly to face his dad. “Ok, you cannot just drop that in conversation, old man.”

Bruce stood up from his chair. “I’m not even 50 yet. You’ve gotta stop calling me that.”

Jason smiled and shook his head. “I’ll call you what I want, Bruce.”

Bruce smiled to himself and walked out of the room. The older Todd leaned closer to Jason and smiled.

“Your family is weird, Jase,” he said with a chuckle.

“Our family actually, big brother,” Jason said with a wide grin as he stood up from his chair. “Wanna go for a ride?”

His big brother jumped out of his chair and smiled. “I bet my bike goes faster than yours.”

The two of them ran towards the manors front door with the widest grins.

Up on the staircase, Bruce stood as he watched them with a smile. Alfred walked up behind him with a smile and tapped him on the shoulder.

“You must stop adopting all these children, Master Bruce,” he said quietly.

“He makes Jason happy, doesn’t he?” Bruce asked.

Alfred pondered for a moment before replying.

“Yes, he does, Master Bruce. That doesn’t mean Master Jason doesn’t still need his father though,” Alfred said, his voice full of care and love for the two of them.

Bruce nodded as he heard the motorbikes start outside. He then smiled and walked off to attend to his work.

                                             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[ckret2]

On chapter 30 of The Writer Uses Misleading Graphics To Trick You Into Looking At This Fic About Human Bill Being The Shack's Prisoner: Summerween part 2! Bill wheedles Mabel into helping him make a costume. Mabel wheedles Bill into spilling some of his preciously-guarded secret backstory. Ford is kind of in awe.

Also there's like 4.5 drawings in this chapter. They're all very silly drawings.

####

Bill wouldn't tell Mabel what his costume was—"I want to see who can guess it"—but all it needed was a brown bedsheet, a long red wig, cardboard (to be drawn upon), and flip-flop sandals.

The bedsheet was the easiest to acquire. Dipper's barely-worn brown sandals were just slightly too big for Bill but Mabel helped tie them on with yarn. the shack's cardboard supplies were still depleted from making Bill's triangle mask, but they could make do with paper and popsicle sticks. Mabel didn't have a red wig but she did have a blonde wig and red markers. Since Bill was, by his own reporting, terrible at drawing, Mabel offered to do the fancy artwork if Bill did the tedious task of recoloring the wig. He claimed he'd feel like a mortician putting makeup on a car wreck victim, but nevertheless accepted the deal, and they settled in around the living room table to get to work.

"So just a bunch of houses, right?" Mabel asked, starting on the first drawing.

"Ancient Greek-looking houses," Bill said. "So, marble and columns. Don't think too hard about the details—this is a 21st century American costume holiday, not a historical reenactment. You can slap columns on anything and call it 'Greek' and every human in town will buy it."

"Do ancient Greek houses have chimneys?"

"No," Bill said. "But adding one would be funny."

Mabel considered that, weighed up the value of historical accuracy against entertainment value, and decided giving one house a chimney would be funny. She gave the whole house a thick black outline in marker, and pulled out crayons in black, white, and whale blue to quickly add some light shading to the marble. 

Mabel didn't think she'd ever seen Bill focus so hard or so quietly on anything the way he did on coloring that old wig red. He was giving it more attention than he did his own hair: while his golden locks were a tangled, uncombed, soggy mass shoved dismissively over his shoulders, he was dying the cheap wig (and his fingertips) strand by plastic strand with the bright-eyed morbid fascination of a third grader studying a pack of ants as they disassembled a bird's corpse.

This was the longest she'd been around Bill without conversation—usually, you couldn't even walk into a room without him immediately chattering at you like the motion-activated animatronics at the Summerween store. It was hard to think around him. Bill didn't give you room to think.

What did Mabel think about Bill?

He was right, she was still mad about the mall. No—mad wasn't the right word—mad was his word—she was scared. She'd never really stopped being scared of him, if she was honest with herself. But everything he'd done that day, from tricking her into trapping herself to reminding her of almost dying, had just reinforced why she should fear him.

But. She thought he felt bad about it. And she didn't think she'd ever seen him feel bad about anything before.

Maybe that meant her experiment was working. Maybe he was changing. Yeah, he was still scary—but he was Bill Cipher, he had a lot of scariness to work through. He was moving in the right direction, and she wanted to encourage that.

He hadn't apologized for the mall; but, since he'd tried to make up for it at the time, and that was a sort of apologetic action, Mabel decided she could tentatively forgive him for that day—provided he continued to improve. Put him on forgiveness probation. And that meant they were on friendly speaking terms again.

Which was good, because the quiet was starting to get uncomfortable. She surveyed her art for something they could talk about.

After a couple of as-historically-accurate-as-she-could-imagine houses, Mabel had started varying up the designs by redesigning houses she could remember off the top of her head with columns and white marble. She'd made a stately marble Mystery Shack, and a columned-covered doppelgänger of the house with the terraced yard across the street at home, and then she'd decided to make a Greek-ish version of her own home. "Hey Bill. Have you ever seen my house?"

"In person? No. But it came up from time to time in you kids' dreams, so whether I've seen it depends on how accurate you think your dreams are," he said. "It has less plants and more windows in your brother's dreams than in yours."

Mildly disturbing answer, but not disturbing in the direction she'd expected. "What! You mean you haven't haunted our neighborhood or anything? I don't believe it."

"Do you think I spend all my time stalking random humans? Don't flatter yourself."

"Well, seeing it in dreams isn't good enough!" Mabel pulled over a blank paper. It was hours until trick-or-treaters showed up, they had a little time to waste. "I'll draw it!"

"Wow, really?" Bill looked up from his wig. "You're not worried about letting the big bad triangle see your house?"

"Come on! You already know where I live, right?"

Bill immediately rattled off, "1337 Fairview Drive, Piedmont, California, on the northeast side of the street where it's less hilly."

"Exactly—you creep. So who cares if you know what it looks like, too?"

A square, sky blue house with two stories and a triangular roof; a big living room window on the left, a covered door on the right, three windows on the second floor, and a chimney. Mabel had drawn her home plenty of times—but doing it for a friend (?) was different from doing it for a teacher or a librarian, and she put extra effort into the rose bushes under the living room window. She added her and Dipper's smiling faces in the upstairs windows and Waddles's face downstairs in the living room.

"Waddles sleeps in the kitchen, but he basically owns half the yard to wallow in. This is my room, and here's Dipper's—I get three windows, but Dipper has the biggest window and a bigger room, so it's fair, no matter what he says—"

"Oh, you two have separate rooms now?" Bill was leaning halfway around the table and craning his neck to see the image right side up.

"Uh, yeah? Since we were ten?"

Loftily, Bill said, "I don't know how you'd expect me to know that. You both still dream about sharing a room."

Mabel paused and tried to remember how often she dreamed about Dipper in his new room. Sometimes she woke and was still disoriented to find her bed in the middle of the room instead of against one wall with Dipper's on the other side. "Huh."

She added a few more details—the front steps, the gate, the shingles. (Bill watched nervously as she pulled out the gray crayon to color the driveway—but she didn't notice how it had been tampered with.) She talked about her home, and in turn Bill told her weird things, like that Dipper often dreamed of monsters coming out of the fridge. When she finished, she autographed her name with a star on the "i" in Pines, offered it over grandly, and said, "Here, you can keep this!"

Bill accepted it without the customary effusive gratitude with which one ought to accept a generously-gifted original artwork from a 13-year-old prodigy. "What am I gonna do with it?"

"That's your problem!"

"Fair enough!" He checked his leggings for pockets and, when he didn't find any, set the page on the table by his elbow. 

Offering accepted. As Bill resumed coloring his wig, Mabel picked up another piece of paper and got to work on the next columned house. "What does your house look like?"

Bill stopped dead, looked straight at her, and said, "My what?"

What was weird about the question? "Your house! Or whatever you lived in before you came here. You came from somewhere before you tried to invade Earth, right? You didn't just pop out of somebody's dream."

Bill laughed. "Yeah I did!"

"Bill."

"4500 years ago the construction workers of Egypt had a shared nightmare about the immense tombs they'd spent the last century building—"

"Biiiill."

"—and when they awoke they found the combined psychic energy of their terror had spawned a sleep paralysis demon more powerful than Ra! So then I ate their souls—"

"Seriously, Bill."

"I'm being so serious right now."

Mabel rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine! I get it. You're embarrassed." She shook her head and returned to coloring.

She felt the combined spiritual energy of hundreds of imaginary Egyptian construction workers beating down on her face from Bill's eye. Like a laser. "'Embarrassed'?"

"Because you don't have a house," Mabel said. "I think it's okay, you don't need to be embarrassed! I don't think you're a loser or anything. It's just kind of sad—"

Bill snatched up a blank piece of paper. "You want a house? Fine! I'll show you a house." He grabbed up an orange crayon, muttering, "It'll put your stupid overpriced shed in California to shame— Where's the ruler—?" Mabel tried not to grin.

For several minutes, he was perfectly silent. Mabel glanced over to see him coloring with three crayons at once, only for him to shove a hand in her face and snap, "No peeking."

Mabel got through two more drawings before Bill slapped down his paper over Mabel's. "There! How about that?!"

She looked at the drawing, which Bill had helpfully labeled "Party Central!" in red crayon. A great stone pyramid so dark brown it was nearly black, with bricks outlined in brilliant gold and molten orange and fiery red, and a sharp multicolored X hovering above it—

Mabel gave Bill a flat look. "This isn't your house, this is your Torture Temple."

"The what? Hey, is that really what people are calling it?! It's not the Torture Temple, it's the Fearamid!"

Despite herself, Mabel burst out laughing. "You named it the 'Fearamid'?!"

"It's a pyramid and humans fear it! It's genius. Portmanteaus make great names."

"What's a portmanteau."

"It's a word made from the unholy Frankensteinian fusion of two other words. Like getting 'electrocute' from 'electricity' and 'execute'!"

"Or 'romcom'?"

"Yeah, or that."

Mabel considered the drawing. "If you want to scare less people, you could call this your Bill-ding."

"HA! Oh, I'm saving that."

"Anyway, this isn't where you live," Mabel said. "You were there for like a week tops!"

"Yeah, before your great-uncle killed me. I'd still be living there if it weren't for you jerks." He stuck out his tongue.

"Come on, Bill. I showed you my house. Draw where you grew up or something!"

"What's wrong with the Fearamid?"

Mabel crossed her arms. "Why don't you want me to see your real house?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

Bill opened his mouth to protest, but then stopped, a thoughtful look on his face. "Eh, you know what? Why not. If you're gonna be so ridiculous about such a silly thing." He pulled over another piece of paper. "But if I don't have enough time to finish coloring this wig, you have to help me."

"Fiiine." She returned to her own drawings as Bill got back to work.

After a long silence—longer than he'd taken to draw and color the Fearamid—he said, "Okay, done. Here." And he pushed over the paper with one dismissive finger.

She eagerly accepted the drawing—and frowned. There was nothing on the page except for a straight flat black line, interrupted by three line segments of bright blue and a cluster of red and green dashes. "What is this?"

"Where I grew up," Bill said, innocently, already back to coloring the wig. Mabel could see his mischievous smirk. "As seen from the front. Just like your drawing of your house. So we're even now."

Mabel's brows furrowed as she stared at the page in confusion. "What...?"

"You do know I'm from the second dimension, right? A universe that's flat like a piece of paper. I figured Sixer would've told you all about it by now." Bill picked up the drawing and held it between his and Mabel's faces, so that, viewed from the edge, all Mabel could see of the paper was a thin flat line. "What do you think the second dimension looks like to somebody in the second dimension?"

Mabel took the paper back, looked at the underwhelming flat line representing the front of Bill's house, and said, "I hate you." 

"We had the prettiest roses in the park," Bill said, pointing at the red dashes. "Crayon really doesn't do them justice."

"Shut uppp."

Bill laughed at her; but then, to her surprise, he said, "Okay, all right, I guess a big fancy 3D creature like you can't understand the nuances of two-dimensional sight. So, here." He flipped over the page. "Top down view."

The back of the page had what looked like a floorplan. A narrow room on the left, a large L-shaped room, a tiny room nestled into the L's top right corner, and a medium room on the right. Little shapes filled the rooms—furniture of some kind?—but she didn't see anything immediately recognizable like a top-down bed or table and chairs. Green and red spirals dangled off the bottom of the floorplan.

"I'm no Edward Bishop Bishop, but it gets the idea across," Bill said.

She studied all the strange little figures in fascination, looking for anything familiar. She pointed at a few shallow bowls filled with blue sticking out of the wall between the L-shaped room and the tiny room. "Are these sinks?"

"Hey, you're pretty sharp. Sinks and the tub." 

"So the little room's the bathroom."

"Right again." Bill pointed out the rooms on the floor plan. "Master bed's on the right, kitchen and living room in the middle—and you found the bathroom—and second bed's on the left. That was my room! The one with a million books," he pointed at a wall with countless tiny multicolored lines coming off of it. "I was a big reader as a kid. I've always been an intellectual."

"Who was in the other bedroom?"

"I never really went in there, who cares." Bill made a dismissive gesture. "I think there were some desks and stuff in there too, but I didn't bother to draw them since I never used them." He picked up a yellow and a black crayon and added on to the drawing, dexterously turning the crayons in his hand to switch between colors without setting either one down. "I spent most of my time in my room." He'd drawn a little yellow triangle with an eye. He picked up a red crayon to point an arrow at the triangle and label it "Me!" "I didn't even have to leave the room to see the TV. The perks of psychic powers!"

Mabel wondered which of the weird shapes was the TV; but before she could come to a decision, she was distracted by the scale of Bill drawn in his room. Maybe he'd just drawn himself big, but he seemed cramped in that narrow space. And he'd hardly have room to turn around in the bathroom without his corner smacking something. "It looks pretty small. Is that normal on your home world?"

"Ah, I rarely spent time at home—it was just a place to sleep between speaking engagements," Bill said. "I was always on tour. Living the life of the rich and famous! Hotels, jet planes, and tour buses!"

Mabel shot him an irritated look. "You said this is where you grew up."

"This is where I grew up! I got an early start making my fortune. I was already famous by the time I was, uh..." he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Developmentally, I think I would've been about equivalent to your age. Maybe a bit younger."

How much of all this was true? It didn't feel like a lie—and she couldn't see how he'd benefit from lying about any of it, except maybe claiming to be famous. So it probably had to be true. He'd actually made her a drawing of his house. Even after he'd complained about being so bad at art. She beamed at him. "Thanks, Bill. Your weird alien house is neat! I like the squiggly spiral flowers! Are they actually roses?"

"They were the flower that everyone mentions in poetry and that you have to bring home when your wife is mad, so, same basic function as roses," Bill said. "Fun fact, they grow in spirals so that they're pretty on the outside, but—"

####

"—but have more surface area to absorb sunlight on the inside," Mabel said, pointing at the flowers. "Alien biology! And the orange things are couches and the colorful box in front of them is his TV, and Bill says he could watch TV through the wall but he never really liked TV, he preferred live performances—maybe we should take him to a musical! And the little sideways cushions on the walls are their beds because gravity goes to the left because their house faces east—I have no idea why!—so, I guess that's their 'floor'? But if that's the 'floor,' Bill didn't explain why all his books were on the 'ceiling' without them falling off, and..." Mabel trailed off, giving Ford a concerned look. "Grunkle Ford? Are you okay?"

He was gaping at the drawing. "Wh—? Yes. Sorry. I'm just..." He shook his head in amazement. "I never even got that slippery eel to admit he has a calendar system, and you got the blueprints to his childhood home?"

Dipper said, "Yeah, this is amazing. How did you get this out of him?"

"Oh, I didn't do anything special," Mabel said casually. "Just drew our house and then suggested he was too scared to let me see his."

Dipper grimaced. "You showed him our house?"

"Don't worry about it! He already knows where we live."

"Of course," Ford said, taking a quick note in his journal. "Exploiting his ego. He's very proud; undermine that pride and he'll feel compelled to defend his honor." Ford had started goading Bill into giving away more than he meant to the same way. He wished he'd started doing it far earlier; but he'd spent so many years foolishly assuming Bill's pride was objective and justified that he sometimes forgot what an egomaniac Bill really was.

As Mabel had spoken, Ford had filled several pages with bullet-pointed half thoughts: dodges questions about the master bed—his parents' room?; no bed or bedroom for a sibling, he seems like an only child; "speaking engagements" is probably a euphemism, what was he doing to become a child celebrity; were his books his only childhood possessions or just the only thing he valued enough to draw; did he gain his "psychic powers" while amassing the power he needed to "liberate"/destroy his dimension? "Can I borrow this drawing to make a photocopy?"

"Sure! Don't forget the line on the back," Mabel said. "And you can copy the Fearamid, too! Did you know he named it the 'Fearamid'?"

"Oh yeah, I heard him call it that," Dipper said. "I think I recorded it in Journal 3?"

"I should've read that before we threw out all of Grunkle Ford's Bill stuff," Mabel sighed. She slid over the Fearamid drawing to Ford. "Bwop! He drew it tilting all weird to the left? He wasn't kidding when he said he's bad at drawing."

Ford studied the drawing and frowned. He lay his pen on the drawing to use like a makeshift ruler. "It's not 'skewed'—he drew the front face as a perfect equilateral triangle, and then extended a side on the right to turn it into a pyramid. It's poor perspective—there's no point of view from which one side would look like a perfect equilateral triangle and you could see another side, but..." He trailed off again as he made a note to himself about what this might mean about Bill's ability to perceive the third dimension and his artistic sensibilities.

"So he draws like Picasso!" Mabel concluded. "Oh! Bill mentioned a name when he gave me his house, he said he wasn't like Edward Bishop Bishop—and I remembered it because it sounds funny. Bishop-Bishop. Maybe he's another artist Bill likes? Or somebody who makes blueprints?"

"I'm sure I've heard that name. I think he was a mathematician?" Ford frowned. "I can't recall, though." He wrote down another note: Edward Bishop Bishop – mathematician/artist? Something to look up later.

Dipper glanced back and forth between Ford and Mabel as they talked, feeling his stomach sink at how excited they were and how easily they got along. First the mysterious disappearing crystal shop in Portland, now Mabel made this huge discovery about the guy Ford had spent years trying to learn about... Dipper swallowed hard and tried to tell himself he shouldn't feel jealous after he'd gotten Ford to himself for basically the past year. "I can't believe you found out all this."

Mabel immediately looked at him. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

Dipper winced. He'd realized a moment too late how he must have sounded. Quickly, he said, "I mean, it's great that you did! Finding out more information about him is great. But, like... investigating the paranormal is my thing. It's what I spent all last summer doing, and it's my dream job, and... and now, the biggest paranormal mystery in human history is in our house, and you're the one getting all the info out of him?"

"Well, yeah," Mabel said. "I'm our official Bill spy, remember? I'm the one who made friends with him."

"I know, I know." He shrugged jerkily. "I'm just... kind of disappointed that I'm not prying eons-old secrets out of an alien demon. You know?"

Ford had paused in his writing to listen to Dipper thoughtfully. "I understand. When you're exceptional at something, it can be... difficult to share the limelight," he said. "Not because you don't think anyone else deserves it. You just don't know if you'll ever get it back."

Dipper's face heated up—he didn't want Ford to think he was bad at sharing, of all things—but he mumbled, "Yeah, I guess." Ford patted his shoulder understandingly. 

"Aww," Mabel said. "Didn't you say that if we're running an experiment on being nice to Bill, you want to be in the control group?" She punched his arm. "Welcome to the control, bro!"

"Ow!" Dipper rubbed his arm and laughed weakly. "Yeah, okay, you're right. This is what I get."

Mabel said, "You should try talking to Bill! Maybe he'll tell you stuff too. He's really easy to talk to as long as you don't mind him sometimes saying creepy nightmare things."

"And as long as you're prepared for his mental tricks," Ford said.

"Yeah! Grunkle Ford's got a whole class for that," Mabel said. "He'll teach you about the BITE model! It's how cults sink their teeth into you!"

Dipper chuckled. "Sure. Maybe I will. We're gonna be at home handing out candy for a few hours, maybe I'll find an opportunity to interrogate him."

"You're not going trick-or-treating?" Ford asked.

"No," Mabel said, with an exaggerated sigh of disappointment.

Dipper elbowed her for her theatrics; they'd already agreed on what they'd do tonight. "We've got plans with friends. But we do get to wear matching costumes again."

"Creepy ghost children!"

"Ah," Ford said. "That explains your..." He gestured at them. They were wearing a suit and a dress, old-fashioned and gray, with tattered hems and dusty black dress shoes.

"Barty helped us put the outfits together," Dipper said.

"We still need to do our makeup," Mabel said. "What about you, Grunkle Ford? What are you doing for Summerween?"

"Ah." He glanced toward the ceiling ruefully, as though he could see The Enemy in the shack through the many layers of dirt above. Summerween had been one of the things he'd missed most about Gravity Falls; even during his years as a reclusive scientist in the woods, he'd usually taken off Summerween and Halloween to hand out candy to the children bold enough to visit his house.

But Bill's eagerness to participate had sucked the fun out of the day. The thought of celebrating Summerween in the same house as Bill felt too much like celebrating with him. "Nothing, I suppose. I was planning to stay down here." He gestured at his desk. "Continue my research."

"What are you working on right now?" Dipper asked.

Ford quickly said, "Nothing. Just—the same research," and was immediately hit with a pang of guilt. Remember what happened last summer when you tried to keep secrets about Bill out of embarrassment? Reluctantly, he said, "I've... split some research duties with Fiddleford. While I'm waiting to hear back from him, I'm looking into—some magical knowledge Bill revealed. To determine how much of it's true."

Dipper looked puzzled. "Revealed when?"

Mabel slammed her hands on Ford's desk. "Grunkle Ford, you can take a break from gathering intel on the enemy for one day! It's Summerween! Promise me you'll do something to celebrate before the day's over."

Ford let out a huff, but smiled. He wanted to do something. Surely he could come up with something that would let him avoid Bill? "All right, I promise. I won't invoke the Trickster's wrath tonight. Could you leave your costume makeup in the bathroom when you're finished? I'll find something to do with it."

"Perfect!" Mabel hugged him; then grabbed Dipper's hand. "C'mon, let's finish getting dressed. The trick-or-treaters will be here any minute!"

"Okay, okay." Dipper waved at Ford as Mabel dragged him to the elevator.

When they were gone, Ford turned back to the papers Mabel had given him. Bill's childhood home... Assuming he wasn't lying, at least. But an entire blueprint seemed like a complicated spur-of-the-moment fabrication even for him. If Bill was lying, it was a lie close to the truth.

It was strange to imagine Bill as a child with a bedroom full of books. Strange to imagine Bill as a child at all. What did a young triangle look like? He couldn't imagine anything different from how Bill always looked.

The floorplan did look small. Smaller even than the apartment over the pawn shop had been. Ford tried to remember what the homes he'd seen in Exwhylia had looked like...

He raised his head as something the kids had said registered. "Barty? Who's Barty?"

####

While Mabel was downstairs, Bill inspected her box of crayons.

The wrapper around the gray crayon was coming loose.

He took the glue stick they'd been using to reinforce the paper houses with popsicle sticks and carefully stuck the wrapper back on.

The house was too quiet without anyone around to talk to. He hated the quiet.

From the corner of the living room behind the table, when Bill leaned on the wall, shut his eyes, and listened closely, he could faintly hear the hidden elevator. He headed upstairs to stow the drawing of Mabel's house somewhere safe, and then went to the downstairs bathroom to finish dressing for Summerween.

####

(Y'all I worked hard on those fake crayon drawings. Anyway I know we're all collectively going insane today over the book news but if you took time out of your day to read this, I'd love to hear what y'all think!)

[kaija-rayne-author]

Dragon Age, as a series, deserved so much better than Veilguard.

Spoilers for Veilguard and maybe other DA stuff.

Obligatory 'I'm not an asshole' disclaimer. Feel free to jump to the cut if you've read it.

Something came to my attention. I need to make it crystal clear that I utterly love the diversity in DAV. It's fantastic. I'm also a heavily left leaning, non-binary, queer as fuck reviewer, editor, and author.

I was on media blackout while I played DAV. Please be safe and take care of yourselves. Arguing with incels and white supremacists is completely pointless. They sea lion worse than an actual sea lion. Your mental health is important.

Though, every single time the anti-queer brigade comes out for a new DA game, I sit there thinking 'have you bozos ever played any DA game, like, ever?' My guess is nope.

Note. None of my writing on DA, but especially DAV, is edited. This is just my off the cuff writing. I don't have the time, energy, or heart to edit them properly.

The Solavellan romance deserved a much better end than 'die and go to fade prison'. I agree that Inky would likely be happy to leave. She's as traumatized as Solas for having to lead when she didn't want to. But I needed more than a craptastic Romeo and Juliet ending.

I refuse to do the heavy lifting for the writers. If it wasn't shown in the game or in supplementary materials, it didn't happen. Showing us the story was the writers' and devs job, not mine.

I mourn what will never be, even as I work on a Solavellan fix it fic.

How could they betray the IP so badly?

How could they betray their fanbase so badly? The fanbase that kept hope for that game alive for 10 years. I've seen so many people saying they've lost their interest or passion for the entirety of Dragon age. That they're not even remotely interested in another game because absolutely none of the choices we made in previous games matters anymore. They've wiped everything clean... or blighted it anyway. (I have absolutely no interest in another DA game. Not with Epler/Busche/Weekes involved. And whoever designed that ridiculous fighting system.)

The only way I could possibly be interested in another game would be if they loudly decanonized DAV, gave us a DLC (they've already confirmed there will be no DLC) that showed us Solas and Inky happy and not in a horrible place. One that showed us that somehow, something changed for the elves.

But that's so unlikely it's laughable.

The elves deserved a better ending. Are the survivors still enslaved or living in alienages? What actually changed for the elves except the largest portion of the Dalish being dead from blight? (That’s a real elvish win, isn't it?)

I'm a stubborn person. I refuse to let Epler's 'hate-revenge on Solas fan fic' ruin something I've loved for years. I still have the first 3 games. I'll make an actual happy ending and a decent romance for Rook in my fic.

And by the fact they paid a fortune to big gaming magazines while denying game keys to bigger honest reviewers... they knew.

They knew gamers wouldn't like it and tried to blow so much smoke up our asses with the interviews and AMAs.

How do they even sleep at night?

I'm a creative too, I write, do graphic design, digital (learning) and traditional (good) art.

My stories are important to me. They deserve not only an ending, but an ending that respects the characters, lore, and world that I've created.

My readers deserve that, too.

I, as the creator of my stories, deserve a decent, respectful ending.

Dragon age deserved it, too. A good, well thought out, and well written ending to the story of the Dreadwolf storyline, which, if you're paying attention, is intertwined through all 3 games. It's not just in Inquisition. One that made sense to the collected Lore, his struggles and mistakes, his literary role as an anti-hero.

I would never be able to do what they've done to a beloved series. I could never knowingly mislead fans like they did.

It's just a really painful reminder that beloved stories can be utterly destroyed in the wrong hands. And a reminder that there's so much talent and skill in Fan fic.

Busche worked on the Sims. No wonder the companions often feel as interesting as wet cardboard. Most Sims NPCs do, too. (I actually enjoy the Sims, but the NPCs aren't why I like it.)

And she had the gall to blame 'culture wars' and 'identity politics' for why the game is tanking. Rather than take ownership of the incredibly bad calls made for DAV.

It's just gross. I wish I could stop thinking about it. But Dragon Age got me through some tough times. It means a lot to me.

And it just deserved better. So did we.

[matthewtkachuk]

bad at love

Breaking your brother's only unspoken rule—don't date his teammates—has never been an issue in your adult life. Until now.

pairing: jt compher x reader

warnings: angstttt, smut, a minor car accident with mentions of injury (broken bone/concussion), and the usual (alcohol, swearing, etc. etc.)

word count: 4.9k

a/n: hiiiiii @comphy-and-cozy i'm your super secret fic exchange writer! sorry this is a day late and a dollar short. one of these days @wyattjohnston is going to perma-ban me from participating in exchanges. until that date she remains my ever loyal editor. mad thanks to @thomasschabot for reading it first and telling me they loved it even though they're contractually obligated to do so and for physically being there when the fic idea popped into my head <3

It’s not the first time you’ve shown up at your big brother’s house with a face full of tears and a couple bags full of all your worldly possessions. Despite your best efforts and well intentions—if you had to guess—it likely won’t be the last. 

It is the first time you’ve done so with him being a married man, and so it’s your sister-in-law whose comfort you really seek and are expecting to pop up behind the slowly opening door in front of you. 

Unfortunately for you, and for the poor soul you really don’t know that well, it’s not Kenzy who opens the door but the over-the-summer pick-up from Colorado. 

If it had been any of the other, more tenured of your brother's teammates, you might have been waved inside with nothing more than a sympathetic glance and an unspoken ‘again?’. 

Instead, JT’s look of utter confusion has quickly evolved into something more akin to a quiet rage, and you’re reminded that he is a big brother himself. The look is familiar to you, having inspired a similar one on Dylan’s face more times than you can count. 

It’s been a really fucking long day, and you don’t have the emotional bandwidth to have any sort of reckoning with some guy you barely know in your brothers drive way. 

JT’s in the middle of some sort of sentence that begins and also ends with “What—” as you none too gently push past him in order to finally gain entry to the house. 

The mix of sympathy and feigned disinterest that greets you on the faces of your brothers teammates who occupy the large sitting room has your stomach rolling uncomfortably. It seemed like the entirety of the Detroit Red Wings were always around to witness your spectacular failures. What must they think, watching you disappear with the next great love of your life, only to reappear once again with bags packed in a manner of months?

You could hazard a guess at what your brother thinks, the variants of ‘I told you so’ that live and die on his tongue without ever leaving his lips. He wraps you up in an infamous Larkin hug that serves to fix a tiny crack of your broken heart, and so you revel in it like you used to revel in the comfort when the pain you felt was because of falling off the monkey bars when you were a kid. 

But, he has a house full of hockey players to entertain and Kenzy has a glass of wine with your name on it. Dylan returns to the living room and you slide out to the back porch with your sister-in-law, briefly catching the eye of the one who let you in. You don’t see the telltale signs of judgment reflecting back at you, but maybe something else entirely. 

Outside you pour your soul alongside the Malbec. Curled up on the wicker chair under a blanket you tell Kenzy about Owen and the promises he failed to keep. She oohs and ahs at the appropriate times, commiserating without belittling you. 

By the end of the night your heart—and the bottle of wine—feels a little lighter. There’s a little less shame as you make yourself at home in the spare bedroom that might as well permanently be yours. 

Owen visits you in your sleep, breaking your heart again and again until his face morphs into one with a ginger beard and kind eyes. 

-

Those kind eyes become a fixture in your post breakup life. If he’s not hanging around your brother's house, he’s bumping into you at the local coffee shop you frequent when you’re in Detroit. If he’s at neither, he’s obviously at the games you attend in support of Dylan alongside Kenzy. 

At Dylan’s, you barely speak to his teammates and friends beyond simple pleasantries. At your coffee shop, it starts at small talk but grows to be considerable conversations that dip just below surface level. 

It’s at Little Caesars Arena where he really endears himself to you though. Warm ups are arguably your favorite part of the games you attend. You like to look out at the signs, from the heartwarming to the obscene—picking out your favorites and giggling about the latter with your sister in law. 

Dylan’s always been really good about tossing kids pucks, and his big bleeding heart only grew larger when he got the red C strapped to his chest. Some of the other guys, even some of the so-called vets are less good about it. 

JT’s just like Dylan, maybe even a little kinder hearted. He takes the time to read the signs that are meant for him, never turns down a trade for a puck and even gives a stick to a kid whose sign says he came all the way from Denver to watch him, his favorite player, play in Detroit. 

It warms your heart. 

So much so you don’t even notice you’re staring until Dylan’s slamming himself into the boards in front of you to startle his wife. She rolls her eyes and calls him a name not worth repeating while you try to pretend like you weren’t just fixated on his teammate. 

The thing is Dylan has never outright said his teammates are off limits. Not since you were a teenager making eyes at his USNTDP teammates anyway. 

The memory keeps you from looking JT’s way the rest of the warmups, but once the puck drops your eyes can’t help but wander. 

-

Wandering appears to be your specialty, considering you’ve gotten yourself lost in the underbelly of the arena. 

Your first mistake was leaving Ken’s side—she was your ferryman, guiding you down the River Styx, and without her, you were lost in Hell. 

Were you overdramatic? Maybe. Were you lost with no hope of getting out? Still overdramatic, but definitely a possibility. 

The walls begin to look the same, and you’re half worried you’ve accidentally fallen into a back room or something stupid when you stumble upon the one who caught your eye earlier. 

‘Stumble upon’ is a gracious way of saying you absolutely smack into him and fall on your ass. 

He hauls you up effortlessly with one hand and your skin burns beneath his grasp. 

“What are you doing?” you both say in near unison before he laughs. 

“I was getting my shoulder checked out, what are you doing all the way over here? Are you lost?”

Regardless of what he was doing, JT obviously has more of a reason to be found wandering the halls of the arena. And he’s right, you’re most definitely lost but you play it off like he’s crazy. 

“Me? Lost? No, I know exactly where we are,” you bluff. 

JT’s eyebrows raise and he nods slowly. “Which is…?”

Well, he’s called your bluff but he also gave you a key context clue. “Near the athletic trainer, obviously.” 

He laughs again and it has your cheeks feeling hot. 

“Okay fine, maybe I’m a little bit lost and maybe I was contemplating how I’d be trapped down here forever before you knocked me over.”

“I’m sorry, but you ran into me.” You roll your eyes and begin to argue, but he doesn’t let that happen. “Doesn’t matter, I can help you find your way out.”

You swoon dramatically, only half joking as you reply “My hero.”

Now that you’re no longer focused on navigating your way out of Pan’s Labyrinth, you’re free to focus on your close proximity to JT. Based on the way his eyes dart between meeting your own and staring at your lips, you assume he’s just as aware.

Is this not what you’ve been wanting since you knocked on Dylan’s door? But that’s part of the problem, and you’re sure JT is thinking the same. Not only is your brother his teammate—and you’ve always been off limits to your brother's teammates to your chagrin growing up—but he’s JT’s captain, too. There’s a million ways this thing could go wrong and blow up in both of your faces. 

You could get caught, and be forced to sit with Dyl’s disappointment. You could hurt the one person in your life who consistently showed up for you and loved you and cared for you. 

Not to mention you could risk it all for nothing—could crash and burn spectacularly as you were wont to do. Could fuck it all up with not only your brother, but JT too and be left with nothing. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d gone behind your brother’s back, but you had a sneaking suspicion things would be worse than they were when you were 15 to his 16. 

Ultimately you decide fuck it, because what’s life without a little risk?

Tentatively, you slide your hand over the rough beard covering his jaw. When he doesn’t flinch or move away from you, you lean in closer. 

He’s not pulling away, but he’s also not moving closer, letting you make the first move. 

It’s probably a terrible fucking idea, but you’ve never been accused of being someone who makes good decisions when it comes to romantic partners. 

The first press of your lips to his is cautious, barely a brushing of your mouths, just to get a taste. Quickly you become a woman obsessed. Unable to get enough, the kisses turn frenetic, bordering on sloppy. 

He reciprocates in kind, his mouth hot and heavy on yours while his hands grasp and pull and hold. His very essence consumes you, taking over all of your five senses and pulling noises from you that you didn’t know existed. 

If your arm burned from his grasp earlier, your entire body has caught fire. 

You’re unaware or probably more accurately uncaring of your public nature, despite your earlier hesitance. Now you just want more and more and more of JT, as much as he is willing to give and maybe even a little more. 

He seems to be on the same page, entire body wrapping around you and pulling you deeper and deeper. 

Unconsciously your hands begin to pull at the waistband of his pants and it’s then that the two of you finally separate. 

You’re worried you’re going to find regret in his eyes and excuses on his tongue, but he’s just looking at you intently. 

“Not like this,” he says. “Not here.”

“I don’t want to wait,” you protest, but he shushes you with his mouth. 

“It’ll be worth the wait.” 

And worth the wait it is. 

-

It's sexy at first. Clandestine meetings in dark hallways, sneaking in and out of JT’s apartment that’s on the same floor as Jake Walman’s, covert texts and quiet phone calls where you get off on the sound of each other's voices. 

It doesn’t take long for you to want more, though. To fantasize about not just what his calloused hands can do to your body, but what it would be like to hold one in your own while walking down the street. To show up at a home game and have everyone know you were there to support not only your brother, but JT too. 

It’s a fantasy that is only stoked by the comfort you feel walking around JT’s apartment in just his t-shirt with his number on the shoulder. By nights spent together at his dinner table, on his couch, in his bed. By sweet texts and stupid memes and random photos of things that made him think of you. 

You don’t dare speak your desires out loud though. For fear of JT not wanting the same thing or for fear that he would, you’re not quite sure. 

It’s a tough situation to be in. One where you’re worried you're heading to a fork in the road that has JT on one side and your brother on the other. 

You have no delusions about the two paths eventually forging back together again, know that you’ve come dangerously close to that intersection marked with a big fat caution sign. 

Probably you should speak to JT, get on the same page about where you’ve been and where you’re going. Following that, assuming he secretly yearns for the same thing you do, you should probably then come clean to Dylan. 

Probably you should do a lot of things, but unfortunately what is done in the dark always comes to the light and sometimes it happens quicker than you can make your mind up. 

-

A road win presumably has JT in a good mood. He’s texted you letting you know he’ll be home before midnight, requesting your presence in his bed. 

It’s an easy yes, considering you’re already in the aforementioned bed. It’s nice to get out of Dylan’s house, of the suffocating feeling that you’re intruding in someone else’s home, on someone else’s life. 

There’s really nothing particularly sexy about the way he finds you, but his eyes darken upon finding you curled up in his bed just the same. You’re not attempting to recreate a sexy pose from a boudoir photo shoot, and one of JT’s shirts and a pair of boy shorts aren’t exactly fancy lingerie. 

That doesn’t stop him from dropping his bag dramatically and stripping from his dress shirt and pants. 

“Awfully presumptuous,” you say as if the very fact that you’re in his bed in not much more clothing than he is. 

He shrugs, “Not presuming anything. I’m fine if you just want to sleep, but I’m sure as shit not going to sleep in those dress pants. Bad enough I had to sit through a plane ride like that.”

His tone is teasing, but the implication that he would be just as fine falling asleep beside you as anything else pretty well takes all the fight out of you. 

“C’mere,” you say instead of a catchy comeback, lifting the covers and inviting him into his own bed. 

He wastes no time sliding in beside you and curling up around your body. “Hi.”

You snort and hide your face in his neck. “Corny.”

“I’ll show you corny,” he says, but you shush him by pulling his face closer to yours until your lips brush. 

“Thought I was presumptuous,” he says upon breaking the kiss. 

You roll your eyes—“Shut up.”—and kiss him again. 

He doesn’t manage to keep his mouth shut, but at least this time it’s to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

The temperature of the room rapidly increases—between the weight of his body covering your own and your body’s reaction to his fervid kiss, you feel the need to lose at least one item of clothing. 

“I need—“

Luckily he quickly understands what you’re trying to accomplish by pulling at the hem of your shirt, lifting off of you long enough to assist in removing it from your body. 

He makes a noise of appreciation at the bare skin revealed to him before diving back into your lips, this time with one hand cupping your right breast. 

Appreciative noises of your own build in your throat when that hand slides down your body to dip into your underwear. It’s teasing touches at first, until you reciprocate by cupping him through his boxer-briefs. 

Finally you both shed that last remaining layer, uncaring of where they end up in the bedroom. There’s a brief pause while he rolls on a condom and then he’s entering your body like it was made for him and him alone. 

There’s no rush about his pace, just gentle thrusts and soft moans and sweet praises. 

Sex with JT is so good, better than with anyone else you’ve ever been with. He’s the very opposite of a lazy, selfish lover. It’s like your needs and your pleasure come first, and you certainly do too. 

The positioning of your bodies is so intimate, bodies close, mouths slotted over each other with intermingling breaths. 

You worry you’re getting too caught up in that intimacy, possibly running in a direction not quite warranted and so you seek to depersonalize it a touch. 

“Let me,” you say softly while gently pressing a hand against his shoulder, indicating you want him to lay on his back. He moves willingly, even helping you climb atop him. 

It feels just as good with you on top, and the bit of distance between your upper halves means you can breathe a bit better. 

It’s easy to get lost in the feeling, to tilt your head back and focus on your movements and the feel of his bruising grip on your hips. 

Feeling the pressure build in your stomach, you slide a hand down your abdomen to where your bodies meet while the other grasps your breast just for something to hold on to. The added friction to your clit is pulling you closer and closer as you move on top of him. 

He’s staring up at you with lust filled eyes, mouth open in a mix of awe and pleasure. A look of almost disbelief on his face. His hands are still on your hips, now helping the movement of your body on his when your body lights up like the fourth of July with your orgasm. 

It’s hard to keep moving while in the throes of pleasure, but it’s like JT can read your mind, gripping your hips and thrusting up into you until he finishes too. 

Your whole body tingles as you collapse on top of him, relishing in the feel of his arms wrapping around your body. Leisurely you kiss for a minute, until your heart rate returns to normal and you feel like you’re not likely to fall over when going to the bathroom to clean up. 

When you return, you’ve slipped on one of his shirts once again. There's a soft look on his face as you crawl into bed beside him. It only cracks when you quietly whisper, “should we order pizza?”

“I think you’re the girl of my dreams,” he laughs. 

The room is quiet, filled with only the sounds of your breathing and occasional kissing as you wait for the delivery. 

Finally the doorbell rings. “I got it,” you tell JT and pull on a pair of discarded sweatpants before pulling the drawstring so they don’t fall. 

You don’t bother to check the peephole, certain it’s your food which turns out to be a giant mistake. 

Not only is it not your pizza, it’s also the last person you want to catch you with sex hair in oversized clothing that obviously belongs to the guy you’ve just had sex with. 

Dylan’s mouth has dropped so far down it would be comical if it wasn’t also horrifying. 

“Dylan I–” you start to explain yourself but pause midway through. How could you even begin to explain?

“I can’t believe this.” He shakes his head, hands curling at his side. “Actually no, I can’t believe this from JT, I can definitely believe this from you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snap. 

Your brother laughs sardonically, “Well you’re not exactly known for making the right decisions when it comes to relationships.”

JT exits his room, no doubt lured by the loud voices and the lack of food. “Hey man, come on, let's talk about this like adults.”

“Like adults?” Dylan is incensed in a way you’ve never seen before. “Now you want to talk about things like adults? The time to talk was before you started sleeping with my sister behind my back.”

“I’m sorry you found out like this–” JT continues to try to defend himself, defend you while you stand there speechless. 

Dylan interrupts, “Sorry I found out or sorry you got caught?”

JT goes to respond but Dylan cuts him off again. “I trusted you dude. I told you she was off limits, and not only did you ignore me, you went behind my back.” He then turns to you. “And you? My teammate? Seriously? You couldn’t have chosen literally any other douchebag to treat you wrong?”

That snaps you out of your stupor. “JT doesn’t treat me bad!”

A different kind of look crosses your older brother's face then. “Well when he does, don’t come running back to my house and crying to me.” 

Dylan slams the door and you sit in the quiet of the room for a minute with your ears ringing. 

The reality of the situation hits you. 

“I can’t stay there, God not only am I a fuck up but I’m homeless too.”

“You can always stay here,” JT offers and it really bothers you that you can’t tell if he wants you to, or if he’s just offering because of his hand in the most recent blow up of your life. 

“I’m pretty sure his baby sister shacking up with his teammate he doesn’t want her with isn’t exactly going to win me any favors with Dyl,” you reply. 

“Well I’m pretty sure he’d rather you be here than living on the street.”

Ordinarily you think that would probably be true but the look on his face when you opened JT’s door is seared into your mind. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

-

In the end you do move your things into JT’s apartment. Kenzy is the accomplice to your crime, helping you pack your things while the team has practice, wrapping you in her arms and telling you that he just needs some time. 

“He loves you,” she says. 

You’re not so sure. 

That’s probably overdramatic. You’re sure he loves you, and you sure hope he forgives you. You’re just worried that this time you’ve both done and said things you can’t take back and you’re not sure how things will move forward from here. 

It’s not all bad though. 

Living with JT is surprisingly easy, even right one might say. You fit directly into each other's lives like perfect puzzle pieces. His strict routines of practices and morning skates and games—both home and away—allow you the space to complete your own work on your own time. Cooking pregame meals together and curling up beside him when he takes his pregame naps quickly become some of your favorite activities. 

You dance around the feelings talk, never quite broaching the subject. But it can’t feel this right if it’s all one sided, all in your head, right?

He’s even kind enough to let you drive his SUV even though the price tag makes you nervous every time you’re behind the wheel. You’re not a bad driver, as evidenced by the fact JT lets you drive the Audi, but you are possibly on this side of over cautious as a result of a bad car accident in high school. 

Three home games after your fight with Dylan and approximately zero words or text messages exchanged between the two of you, you find yourself in the passenger seat. 

“I could have taken the bus,” you protest weakly, almost knowing exactly what JT’s response will be. 

“Over my dead body,” he laughs, eyes flickering over to you before focusing on the traffic in front of him. “Just pick me up after practice or text me if you’re still out and I’ll find a ride.” 

“I’m not gonna leave you stranded at the arena, of course I’ll be there after you’re done.” 

It’s oddly domestic, kissing JT across the console and then sliding into the driver’s seat that he vacates. You wait as he grabs his gear and walks away, you do really love watching him walk away. 

The moment is cut short by catching a glimpse of your brother's vehicle. He’s not in it, obviously already inside the arena, but the sight of it makes your stomach clench all the same. 

Thoughts of Dylan and his disappointment and worry that he’ll never forgive you flood your mind the entire drive. So much so that when the next light turns green, you let off the gas without realizing that there is a larger SUV running the red. 

It all happens so fast. The screeching of tires, the crunching of metal, the pop of airbags going off and then a blinding pain in your wrist. 

In the end, you’re pushed into the wrong lane of traffic, the other vehicle damn near in the passenger seat you occupied only fifteen minutes ago. There’s a distinct ringing in your ears and you offhandedly wonder if this is what it feels like to get boarded. 

“Are you okay? I’m calling 911.” The words sound like they’re underwater, and it takes you several seconds to realize they’re being spoken to you. Turning your head to the side, you try to get the words out to say you’re fine, but you’re blocked by the airbag that has gone off near your head. 

Emergency services come quickly, a perk of living in Detroit you suppose. Embarrassingly, it takes the jaws of life to peel off the driver's side door to get you out. A cop takes your statement and then you end up in the back of an ambulance. Despite your assurances that you’re fine, one raised eyebrow from the female paramedic and the idea that you’ve probably broken your wrist has you agreeing to the ER visit. 

It’s then that someone asks you if there’s anyone you want to call. Heartbreakingly, your first thought is Dylan and your second thought is you’re not sure he’ll pick up. 

Your third thought is JT and his SUV that you’ve probably totaled. 

One of the paramedics helps you dial the equipment manager’s number, the one you were instructed to only ever use in case of emergencies. If ever there was a reason…

When he picks up the phone, you have to explain that you’ve gotten into a tiny fender bender and if you could please speak with JT and yes I mean JT not Dylan. 

“Are you okay?” JT all but demands when he picks up the phone. 

“I’m totally fine,” you fib, and then concede based on that same female paramedic once again raising an eyebrow. “Okay so I might have broken my wrist but–”

“Which hospital are you going to?” he interrupts. 

You tell him, but try to say, “It’s okay you don’t have to–”

He interrupts again, “I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up quicker than you can ask how he’s going to get there without the car that you’ve wrecked. 

True to his word, he’s sitting on a chair in your hospital room when you return from getting an x-ray. He stands abruptly upon your entrance and takes the three strides to stand in front of you before hesitating, like you’re made of glass. 

You take matters into your own hands and slide your good arm around his back, careful to not jostle your injured wrist. There's a slight tremor to his body that you feel run through yours. 

“I’m okay,” you say comfortingly, rubbing your good hand along his back before pausing. “Your car though….”

The tears are already starting to pool in your waterline as he pulls back. 

His hands slide to cup your jaw as he speaks seriously, “I don’t give a damn about the car. It can be replaced, you can’t.” A tear slips out before you can stop it and he brushes it away with his thumb before kissing you softly. “I care about you. So much. And that phone call scared the shit out of me.”

Despite the less than stellar background and circumstances, his words have your heart leaping in your chest. “I really care about you too,” you whisper and kiss him again. 

“Where is she?” you hear coming down the hall and it occurs to you that your brother is still your emergency contact. 

“Did you tell him?” you ask JT who promptly shakes his head. 

You don’t even have time to step back from JT’s embrace before Dylan comes crashing into the room. JT wisely pulls away and gives Dylan the space to place his hands on your shoulders and scan for any signs of injury. 

“I’m okay,” you reassure him but the words feel hollow considering they’re the first you’ve said to him in more than a week. “Broken wrist they’re gonna cast and probably a concussion. Can’t say the same for the car.”

Eerily similar to JT, Dylan replies, “Cars can be replaced–”

“But I can’t,” you say in unison with him. “I know, JT said the same thing.” 

It’s like Dylan remembers his teammate then, eyes sliding over to where JT stands and then back down to your slowly purpling wrist. 

The room is silent except for the sounds of medical equipment and the faint sounds occurring outside the door. 

“I’m sorry,” you say in unison with your brother again. 

“No, I'm sorry,” he says first. “I’m your big brother and I’ve seen you get your heart broken too many times. I’m always going to worry about you but I was out of line.”

“I’m sorry we went behind your backs and I’m sorry you found out that way. We should have just talked to you, I should have just talked to you.” 

“Truce?” he asks, like you’re 10 and 11 again, fighting over something silly and trivial. 

“Truce,” you confirm, hissing when you knock your broken wrist as you pull him in for a hug. 

Later, when you’ve gotten over the guilt of totaling JT’s barely used Audi and the cast on your wrist is long gone,  it’ll be a fun story to tell at parties. About how it took an idiot running a red light for you to define your relationship with JT and to reconcile with your brother. 

[itgetzweird08]

Stuck.

Katsuki Bakugo x Gender Neutral!Reader Angst Hcs

A fic based on July by Noah Cyrus (I am so NOT sorry for this :)

Warnings: Nothing major, just mentions of drinking, implied cheating, and heavy language. Also general angst

A/N: I know a lot of y'all want the next part of Endevour's Secret Daughter and The Spark That Lit His Fuse. I'm working on it I swear, just got a little writer's block. But I promise I'll get it done soon! For now, enjoy this sob fest :))

I've been holding my breath

I've been counting to ten

Over something you said 

The stress of growing as a hero was heavy, of course, you knew, but recently Bakugo seemed to be taking it out on you. When there was a bad mission, he would come home with a hard slam of the door, sparing you nothing but a hard glare. He would push you off and away when you would offer comfort, and when you tried to suggest he take a breath, he raised his voice to you.

“Can you get fuckin lost? Hell, I wish you would stop being so fucking annoying!”

I've been holding back tears

While you're throwing back beers

I'm alone in bed

This wasn’t a once-off either, as now it seemed like he would snap every time you would look at him. You felt like you had to hold your breath every time you were around him. But now, it seemed like everything was only getting worse. At least for a while, he would still come home, but now there were nights where you laid in the cold bed alone for hours until he would come back smelling like sweat and beer... and perfume.

You know I, I'm afraid of change

Guess that's why we stay the same

You knew you could leave, you knew you should. But fuck- something in you just couldn’t handle the thought of losing him. You had been together for so long, you liked the consistency of your relationship. And you didn’t want to feel as if you were giving up. You never gave up. To you, this was all just a hard challenge that you would overcome eventually. This hard roadblock would pass…wouldn’t it?

So tell me to leave

I'll pack my bags, get on the road

If he told you to leave, you would. But you wouldn’t be able to just give up on your own, not while you still felt some semblance of hope that your relationship could survive this.

Find someone that loves you

Better than I do, darling, I know

You wouldn’t be mad if he did decide to leave. Maybe he was right, maybe you weren’t cut out to be the partner of the number two hero. You were quirkless, and went to school for art. You knew nothing about having a special ability or hero work for that matter. Maybe he needed someone who did understand. 

'Cause you remind me every day

I'm not enough, but I still stay 

“What the hell do you know? You’re quirkless, you’re nothing. You’ll never be able to understand what I’m going through.”

Feels like a lifetime

Just trying to get by while we're dying inside

Six months…you’ve been stuck like this with Bakugo for six months. Nothing has gotten better. The small spark of hope you had for the relationship was slowly fizzling out. Now every bit of this relationship felt like torture. And yet you didn’t go anywhere.

I've done a lot of things wrong

Loving you being one

But I can't move on

You knew there were probably plenty of people in this world for you. But none of them were Katsuki. Maybe falling for him was a mistake. Everyone had warned you whenever news got out that you were dating him. Even his own friends, while teasing, dropped subtle hints.

‘I’m surprised anyone could stand him’

‘I can’t believe he found someone he’s considered worthy’

‘Thanks for putting up with him, I know he can be..a lot’ 

No matter what they said, you didn’t listen. You could never regret loving Katsuki.

So tell me to leave

I'll pack my bags, get on the road

“You’re too much of a distraction. You’re only holding me back.”

“What are you saying, Kats?”

“...I’m done, Y/N. I need to focus on being number one, not on being your boyfriend.”

Find someone that loves you

Better than I do, darling, I know

‘Dynamite and Uravity, Japan’s new IT Couple’

'Cause you remind me every day

I'm not enough, but I still stay

[class1akids]

Genuinely so happy that we got closure for Touya but also upset as well 😭 next to Shouto he’s my favourite Todoroki! Honestly though, I really have conflicting thoughts because I really hope he didn’t stay alive for too long because it’s got to be kind of lonely to be strapped into that tube being kept alive by that machine, possibly pumped with painkillers or something like that’s not a nice life BUT I hope he didn’t pass away too fast because for many reasons 1) I like to think he got proper closure, without Enji speaking over them, with Rei, Fuyumi and possibly Natsuo 2) I like to think that he also got to know Shouto a bit more and vice versa and 3) I don’t like the thought that Enji essentially gets a free-pass on his promise of visiting Touya every day once he passes away, I hope had to keep that promise for at least a while. I also hope Touya wasn’t alone when he finally did pass away!

I saw some people speculate that Shouto didn't call him Touya-nii, but only "Touya" in Ch 431, because now he's older than Touya when he died. Shouto is 25 during the time-skip chapter, and Touya was 24 in the end and it was summer. So that implies, he would have died within a few months max.

As for Touya's suffering - if you look at the translation by pikahlua, it specifies that Touya's slow death is implied to be a gentle and easy one - more like a "slipping away".

I think also it's implied that Touya would be sleeping most of the time, only awake for a few minutes every day and Enji and Rei promised to be there every time. And Fuyumi and Shouto would come when they can. So I don't think it's lonely in that sense. (With Natsuo - it's left open - I think it's up to fandom fic writers to imagine various scenarios). From the way Shouto remembers Touya, I'm confident they worked it out at least the two of them.

As much as I want Endeavor punished, I don't think his atonement should take precedence over Touya getting a death that gives him peace. In the end, the writing failed the Todoroki family when Hori decided that Enji would "atone for Touya's sins" to make him look cool, rather than be brought to justice for his own crimes of domestic violence. Showing that even the No 1 hero is not above the law would have gone a long way to change society, but I guess Hori was more interested in giving Endeavor a substitute family made of sidekicks.

I guess since Enji is now fully aware of how fucked up everything he did was, once Touya passes away, he's left with his own conscience, a daily reminder of what he did to his family whenever he looks at Rei's scarred face. Knowing that he could have had it all, but threw it away for nothing.

[cherub-berry]

*:..｡o○ CRAVING SMOKE | Porco Galliard x Reader

╰┈➤ Contents: fem! reader, both Porco and reader smokes cigarettes, reader wears glasses, reader is an eldian nurse, reader carrying an injured man, mention of injury, mention of war, the aftermath of war, guilt, survivor guilt, cigarette kisses, Porco opening up, mention of Marcel, teasing and banter, writer is not good with grammar

╰┈➤ Word count: 5.9k

╰┈➤ Note: this is inspired by my illustration of Porco. I also wanted to thank my friend Ari for co-writing this fic with me, with out their help I don't think I can finish this, so a big applause for Ari!

The smell of blood and fear lingered in the air, clinging like a vice. The war had ended or so they said. But for the war veteran and survivor, it was a never-ending cycle. He stood atop his titan, smoke rising from its neck as the giant's body slumped to the ground. Porco Galliard, or as most people knew him, the Jaw Titan. The sky, once a clear blue, now darkened to shades of purple and orange, a beautiful scene if he didn’t notice the endless bodies beneath him. Eldians and Marleyans alike lay caught in the crossfire, everyone is a victim of war, even if they never participated.

Porco wishes he were a simple man with a simple dream, but what he wants is anything but simple. Yet here he is, bloodied and brooding, weighed down by the weight of a wish he never truly understood. He got what he wanted, one of the Nine Titans, but at what cost? Marcel’s death? Bertholdt’s fate? Or even the betrayal that still hangs between him and Reiner? The power, the legacy—it all feels hollow now, a cruel reminder of the sacrifices made. Each Titan form, each battle, has only deepened his pain, leaving him to wonder if the price was ever worth it.

He watches as the Warrior candidates celebrate, hugging and cheering for Gabi Braun, elated by the success of her sacrifice. He can't help but smile, ruffling her head as if to say, "Good job." But as he watches them, a bitter knot tightens in his chest. Their troop is dwindling at a rapid pace. Every single day, the enemy's weapons grow deadlier, more advanced, more terrifying. Porco himself almost tasted death recently, saved only by the Armored Titan, Reiner Braun. Meanwhile, the Warriors’ tent is filled with the sounds of laughter, men drinking tasteless alcohol and eating MREs to their heart's content. They laugh as if they don't care about what awaits them when they return home or if they'll ever return at all.

The night drags on, and eventually, the lights in the tents fade to black. Everyone is deep asleep, like corpses, except for Porco. War Chief Zeke Yeager is awake too. Zeke is focused on a book—a children's book, of all things. How peculiar, Porco thought. But this is Zeke, no one can ever guess what he's really thinking. A metallic mug of coffee is clutched in Zeke's left hand, while his right flips through the pages of the book.

"Stop staring so much, you're going to make me blush," Zeke muttered, his eyes still transfixed on the pages.

Porco raised an eyebrow, gesturing toward the book. "Is it interesting? I mean, it’s a children’s book."

Zeke glanced up briefly, taking a sip of his coffee. "It has its charms. You never know until you read it."

Porco smirked. "Charms? For a kid’s story?" He sat up on his cot. "You’re not getting soft on me, are you?"

Zeke chuckled, eyes back on the book. “Soft? Perhaps. We need more simple things in a chaotic world that's going to fall apart”

The Jaw Titan studied him for a moment, watching as the man in front of him tracing the book cover. He shrugged “can’t say I found comfort in kids’ stories. But hey, if it helps you sleep at night…”

After a long pause, Zeke smiled at him. Closing the book and finishing his coffee. “The world needs hope more that it needs war, even if it's for a brief moment”

The night hung heavy around them as Porco fell silent, he can't lie Zeke is a very interesting person, but also a dangerous one.

"Gonna go smoke for a bit," Porco said, breaking the silence.

"If I were you, I wouldn't," Zeke muttered. "The war is over for us, but not for the nurses. It’s chaos out there.”

Porco ignored Zeke’s warning and headed out into the night. The cold air hit him immediately, as a gust of wind tousled his hair. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself, exhaling smoke into the crisp night. The silence outside was different—empty, almost suffocating. He stood there for a while, letting the chill sink in, his thoughts drifting as the smoke swirled upward. Zeke’s words echoed in his mind, but he pushed them aside.

He lights a cigarette and exhales a cloud of nicotine into the frigid air, the wind growing sharper and colder. He glances into the distance, where the medical tents stand far from the others. The muffled sounds of screaming and crying drift toward him. Unlike the warriors' tent—silent, warm, and inviting, the medical tents are bright, chaotic, and soaked in blood. Curiosity tugs at him, and he steps closer. The screams grow louder, and he sees nurses rushing about, covered in blood, their faces hidden behind masks and surgical gloves.

The head nurse stumbles by, her eyes wide with panic as she clutches the gruesome bandage “what are you doing here!? Stay back,” her voice strained. “We're losing him, quickly, morphine!”.

Porco watches in silence, in awe. Cigarette forgotten as the ashes drop down to the dirt floor. Another nurse passed him, not glancing at him. Her gaze never meeting his. Zeke was right, it's war here.

Your hands are shaking as you struggle to open the morphine bottle, the lid slipping from your trembling fingers. As you fumble, your glasses slide down your nose and nearly fall off, but you barely notice, too focused on the task at hand.

Getting a syringe you dipped the needle into the bottle giving it a light tap before injecting it into the dying man, preparing him for the pain that will follow.

Time seemed to slow down for Porco as he watched the nurses rushing to help the unconscious man. Every moment felt stretched, the hurried movements of the medical staff blending into a blur of urgency, while his own focus remained locked on the scene unfolding before him.

But one nurse stood out to Porco—the woman with glasses. She didn’t appear much older than he was, yet she was carrying a half-dead man alone, her movements steady and deliberate despite the heavy burden. The sight of her, focused and determined, carrying the unconscious man toward the operating tent, struck Porco deeply. To him the woman was not only carrying his life, but the hopes of a fallen soldier.

“It's going to be okay Mr. Charlie! You're going to go home soon,” You said, gently lowering him on the bed, reassuring him and also yourself.

Nurses swarmed around the man, preparing him for surgery, while your hand trembled, heavy with the responsibility of his life.Your chest tightens, the weight of the moment pressing down, and your breath catches in your throat. It's the sudden, overwhelming realization of how fragile life is, how much is at stake in this very moment.

“(Name), you did well today. You can take the rest of the night off,” One of the older nurses said, putting on her mask and surgical gloves.

You nod quietly, too exhausted to argue. In truth, you wanted to stay—to assist the nurses, to see the surgery through. But as you turn to leave the surgical tents, the weight of your fatigue pulls you away, each step heavy as you step out into the cool night air.

The breeze brushes against your skin, a soft, fleeting touch, like a kiss that might vanish at any moment. Adjusting your glasses you finally notice a young man staring outside one of the tents, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers. You approach him and tap his shoulder once—did he not feel it? You tap again, then speak.

“Excuse me, sir, you're not allowed to smoke here.”

“Shit, sorry.” He drops the cigarette and crushes it under his boot. His voice sounds distant, almost detached, but there’s an unmistakable tension in his posture. Though his face remains calm, his eyes reveal a different story, one of turmoil and inner conflict that he’s trying hard to hide.

You look at him from head to toe. You know this man, the infamous Jaw Titan. His face carries the unmistakable feature that haunts Liberio. Nurses often fawn over the warriors, often calling the man in front of you “a handsome asshole with a good heart”. A certain charm behind those cold and rigid eyes that will make people swoon.

Porco’s eyes met yours. And for a moment, your breath catches. There's something undoubtedly intimate in his gaze—unacknowledged attraction. The connection feels so short yet so magnetic, it makes you want his gaze even more.

“You’ve got something on your cheek,” He says, pointing to his face to clarify.

Your eyes widen slightly as you quickly wipe your cheek, only to see the dark stain of blood smeared across your skin. Maybe he wasn’t looking at your eyes after all—maybe it was your cheek he was focused on. A wave of self-consciousness hits you as you glance down at your uniform, now caked in dirt and blood. The grime and the mess suddenly seem more obvious, and you can’t shake the feeling of being exposed, like all the weight of the day’s chaos has left its mark on you.

"Thanks..." The words barely escape your throat, soft and barely audible.

"Mr. Galliard, if you're looking to smoke, I know a place." You clear your throat, hoping the sudden awkwardness doesn’t linger.

He glances at you, then back at the ground. "Oh—uh, sure. Lead the way." His tone is a mix of surprise and something else, almost like he wasn’t expecting an offer, but couldn’t refuse it either.

You lead him into the cool evening, the air carrying a sharp bite that makes the night feel even more isolated. As you walk side by side, the silence between you both is oddly comfortable. The faint crunch of gravel beneath your boots is the only sound, and you’re acutely aware of his presence beside you—his movements casual, but you can tell he’s paying attention to the surroundings.

You guide him to the back of an old, abandoned shed, though calling it a shed feels generous. It’s little more than a crumbling wooden wall with a rusted door, barely standing against the wind. The dim light from the nearby lanterns casts long shadows, adding a sense of quiet intimacy to the moment. It’s a place hidden from prying eyes, and as you both step into the shelter, the world outside feels just a little more distant, a little more forgotten.

“Here we are, enjoy your time Mr. Galliard. Goodnight,” You pivot on your heel and head back toward the nurses' tent, hoping to find some rest or at least a brief moment of peace away from the chaos.

A calloused hand reaches out, brushing against yours. You turn back, and for a split second, you catch the blonde man’s eyes. They flicker from yours to the ground, his brows furrowing in a quiet struggle, as if debating something he can’t quite put into words. He lowers his hand slowly, almost surprised by his own gesture.

“I—uh, forget it. Goodnight,” he mutters, the words awkward and heavy, like he’s wrestling with a thought he isn’t ready to share.

His eyes linger just a little longer than necessary, betraying the quiet curiosity that seems to hang in the air between you—an unspoken desire to know more, but uncertainty keeping him at arm’s length.

You know he wanted to know. The makeshift question barrelling in your head: how did you know this place? The question feels simple yet complicated.

You smile softly at him, feeling the weight of the moment shift. Sliding down the wall, you settle onto the ground, your posture casual but inviting. You pat the spot next to you, looking up at him with a quiet, unspoken request.

"Sit with me?"

For a moment, he hesitates, eyes flicking between the empty space beside you and your face, as if debating whether to break the distance or remain standing. After a beat, he lowers himself slowly, sitting beside you without a word. Shoulders almost brushing, his body heat radiating.

You slip your hand into the pocket of your uniform, pulling out a cigarette box, the edges worn from constant use. You shake it lightly, feeling the last few sticks inside, then retrieve an almost empty lighter, the flame flickering weakly at your fingertips.

“I didn't know nurses can smoke,” He says, you can hear faint hint of a smile in his voice.

“Well, we aren't supposed to,” you reply, taking a drag and letting the smoke curl up into the air, "But I still do anyway.”

He chuckles softly. "I guess some rules are meant to be bent."

You exhale slowly, watching the smoke dissipate in the cool evening air. "Maybe. But it's not exactly the healthiest habit, either way.”

“You should tell that to Zeke.” he says, a grin creeping in.

"The head nurse has," you reply with a dry laugh, "She told him to quit, but he just keeps on going. It’s like telling a cat to stop being a cat." You take a long drag, enjoying the bite of the smoke as you watch the haze swirl around you.

Porco watches you exhale another puff of smoke, his gaze following the way the smoke curls into the air. After a moment, he pulls out his own cigarette and a lighter from his jacket, biting the tip between his lips with a small grunt of concentration. He flicks the lighter, but the flame sputters out before it can catch, the tiny spark vanishing into the cool night. He shakes the lighter impatiently, then tries again, only for it to fail once more. With a frustrated sigh, he tosses the lighter aside with a muttered curse.

“Can I borrow yours?” He points toward your lighter with a half-embarrassed look.

You nod, handing it to him. He takes it and flicks the fuse multiple times, but again, the flame refuses to appear.

"Guess no cigarette for me tonight," he says, a hint of disappointment in his voice, as he hands it back to you. "Lucky you. You've got all the fire."

You chuckle softly, slipping the lighter back into your pocket. "Maybe it’s a sign you’re not meant to smoke tonight."

He smirks, rolling his eyes. "Could be.”

“Here, I'll share mine with you. Get close”

Porco raises an eyebrow, intrigued but cautious. You bring the lit cigarette back up to your lips and position it so the glowing tip is almost exactly in line with his—just a hair's breath apart, the two cigarettes hovering close. He leans in slightly, and you both, without missing a beat, gently bring your lips together, the tips of your cigarettes now nearly touching.

For a brief, intense moment, you both exhale at the same time, the smoke mixing and swirling around you, the soft glow of the lit tips connecting in a silent, almost intimate dance. The flame transfers easily between the cigarettes, igniting his with a soft hiss. He takes a quick drag as you pull back, both of you now holding your cigarettes with your lips.

"Now that’s how you light a cigarette," you say with a grin, watching him as he exhales, a small smile creeping onto his face.

Porco chuckles, still holding the cigarette between his lips. "You’re full of surprises, huh?"

You shrug casually, the smoke trailing lazily in the air. "I like to keep things interesting."

For a moment, the world feels quieter, the shared action something unspoken, just a little closer than it probably should be. A little too intimate than it should be. You lower your hand to the ground, just a breath away from his, the space between your fingers humming with an unspoken promise. You linger there, so close that the air seems to tremble with the possibility of touch, but neither of you moves.

Porco raises an eyebrow, his smirk growing as he glances at your hand, hovering near his. "Careful," he says, voice low, a teasing edge to it. "You might be getting a little too close for comfort."

You hold his gaze, a small, knowing smile playing at the corner of your lips. "Comfort’s overrated," you reply, fingers barely brushing the edge of his.

His eyes flicked between you and your hand. “You're the type to make things complicated, aren't you?

You stretch your body, your spine arching gracefully as you move, the motion fluid and effortless. His gaze follows you, intent and focused, drawn to the curve of your back with an almost predatory intensity. You feel the weight of his eyes on you, but you don't falter. As you shift, your hand drifts even closer to his, the space between you shrinking with every deliberate inch. You hold his gaze, a quiet confidence in your eyes.

"Only when it's worth it," you say, your voice soft but clear, as if the words are as much a challenge as an invitation.

Porco's gaze sharpens, he takes a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling the gray smoke to the cold night sky. “Is this one of those moments?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you shift your hand a fraction closer, just enough to send a jolt of tension through the air. "Maybe," you say softly. "Maybe not."

His lips quirk upward, the challenge in his eyes clear. "You’re a tease. I kind of like it.”

The air hangs heavy with tension, thick and almost suffocating. Neither of you dares to move, as if any shift would shatter the moment. The silence between you is electric, every heartbeat magnified, the space between you pulsing with something unspoken.

“You're not going to make this easy, aren't you?” He asked, voice husky and hushed.

“Where's the fun in easy?”

"I like seeing how far I can push before things... change," you murmur, your eyes locking with his, daring him to respond.

He leans in, just a fraction, closing the distance with a teasing, almost unreadable look. "Is that what you want? To see what happens when everything shifts?”

You challenge him with a quiet smile. “Maybe I do”

Porco’s gaze flickers from your eyes to your lips, his breath catching ever so slightly. His pulse quickens, the subtle shift in his expression betraying the tension building between you both. There’s a brief hesitation, a quiet moment where it feels like time itself has paused, before his focus sharpens again, drawn in by something deeper, something he can’t quite pull away from.

“You're going to keep looking, or do something about it?” You challenged.

He chuckles softly, a low rumble vibrating between you two. “You sure you want me to?”

“You're the one getting closer.”

His hand shifts just slightly, brushing against yours, and for a split second, you think he might pull away. But then, his fingers curl around yours, slow and deliberate, the touch grounding in a way that feels more intimate than anything that’s come before.

"Guess you’re right" he murmurs, his voice barely above a breath. "Maybe I’ve already done something about it ”

You take his hand in yours, your fingers gently tracing the rough lines of his calloused skin. The touch is tender, lingering, as if you're mapping out the very contours of his hand, feeling the strength in every worn ridge.

His soft lips graze yours, a delicate touch that lingers in the air. The scent of cigarettes, faint and smoky, clings to him, but it fades as you close your eyes and melt into his kiss. In that moment, the world blurs—the chaos, the noise—everything softens, leaving just the rhythm of his breath and the warmth of his presence.

The touch of his warm hand feels like a warm lantern in the dark and cold of the night. It's a comfort, a reassurance that you never knew you needed until now. You wish for nothing more than his touch, his presence, to stay with you, to never let go. In this fleeting moment, everything else fades away, and all that matters is the warmth of his hand in yours. You never want to leave this small, perfect moment.

You pull apart first, your cheek flushed, the rush of blood making your head spin. You’ve kissed others before—men and women, but none of those kisses were like this. Not this urgent, not this brief. There’s something about it that stirs something deeper inside you. You feel shy, vulnerable, as if something sacred has just unfolded between you. His warm eyes meet yours, looking at you with such intensity that it threatens to overwhelm you. Something catches in your throat, and you blink rapidly, fighting back tears. It’s a moment you never want to forget, a fleeting piece of time you wish you could hold on to forever.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, hand caressing yours.

You swallow, steadying your breath. “I—yeah, just… I never felt like this. Its so different.”

“Different good, I hope?” He said softly, placing his forehead gently against yours.

You nodded, the closeness is making your heart race. “Yeah, different good”

He stays there for a heartbeat longer, unwilling to pull away, as if afraid the quiet connection between you might vanish the moment he does. The world around you is eerily still—too still for a soldier like him. It feels too gentle, too faint, a softness he's not accustomed to. His heart beats faster, the silence pressing in around you both.

You rest your head to his shoulder, looking at the cigarette in your hand so fondly. “It's so…quiet”

He shifts slightly, his warmth pressing against you, grounding you in the quiet. “Yeah,” he says softly, his voice almost drowned by the peace surrounding you both. “Feels strange, doesn’t it?” He takes a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke curls upwards, disappearing into the night.

“I feel like a storm is about to happen” You whispered, voice certain. The words hang in the air, as if they were supposed to happen.

He turned towards you, his expression unreadable for a moment as he studied your face. "Ugh, I hate this," He muttered, a dry humor lacing his voice. "After this hell of a storm, there's another one waiting. What a drag." He let out a short, humorless chuckle, but his face remained unreadable, the tension in his eyes betraying the joke.

“A warrior can’t catch a break, huh?” You teased, a grin playing at the edges of your lips.

“Nope,” he shot back, the word blunt, almost with a hint of amusement, as if the irony of it all wasn’t lost on him.

“Honestly, if I were a Titan Shifter, there’s no way I’d have the guts to bite my hand or slice it open to transform,” You say, chuckling at the thought of it.

He takes a drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke with a grin. "You should try it, it’s a real rush." He taps the cigarette, letting the ashes fall to the ground.

You shake your head, smiling “Uh—huh, sure. ‘cause nothing says fun like turning into a giant nutcracker wrecking everything in sight.”

“It's oddly therapeutic, you should try it sometime. Nothing like the feeling of smashing stuff to really clear your head.”

The banter continues, but with each passing minute, the mood shifts. Your laughter fades, swallowed by the deeper currents of the conversation. You both sit there, the world moving around you, but the two of you remain anchored to the moment, surrounded by the haze of smoke and words that were meant to be light but now feel heavy.

Your cigarette, now little more than a smoldering nub, threatens to fall, but neither of you moves to snuff it out. It's one of those moments that doesn’t seem to need much attention, as if the world’s outside the bubble you’ve created. A bubble where jokes come easy and laughter rings free, even though neither of you could be further from truly being carefree.

You glance over at him—the man beside you, Porco Galliard. The man who has seen and done things you couldn’t even begin to imagine. The man whose hands have taken countless lives for the sake of his country, soldiers who never had a chance. The man who wears the burden of the Titan Shifters curse like a second skin. And yet, despite all of that, here he is, sitting beside you, casually flicking ash from his cigarette as if this were the most normal conversation in the world.

"You think smashing things is fun?" you ask again, this time with less sarcasm, more curiosity. A genuine question.

Porco pauses, his gaze shifting toward the horizon for a moment. When he speaks, his voice is steady but edged with something darker. "I'm smashing things because of orders. It's not fun at all. It's torture.”

“You ever get tired of it?" You ask, not sure what answer you're hoping for. You expect him to laugh, to brush it off, maybe even make another joke. But instead, he seems to sink deeper into his thoughts, his gaze fixed on something distant.

“Tired? You don't get tired. You just keep going, that's all you can do. You just keep moving and hope that you're not too far gone to realize you've lost everything.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and final, but you can see it in his eyes—he knows the truth. He’s lost everything. The weight of it settles around him like a shroud, suffocating, unspoken. He still has his parents, but that’s not enough. Not without Marcel. Without Marcel, what’s left for him? The bond they shared, the brotherhood, was the one thing that tethered him to something real, something that made the endless violence and sacrifice bearable. But now, in the aftermath, it’s all gone.

You listen to Porco’s words, and for a moment, the air between you feels thick, like there’s more than just the weight of the conversation in that space. There’s something you both share now, something you never thought you’d relate to.

Your fingers brush the cold metal of the lighter in your pocket, instinctively reaching for it. You’ve held it a thousand times before, but tonight, it feels heavier than it ever has. The two wings carved into the surface—delicate and intricate—are a reminder of a place you can never go back to, a memory that’s already fading at the edges. A gift from back home. A piece of something you’ve left behind, but it doesn’t feel like a gift anymore. It feels like a weight.

Guilt surges up from somewhere deep inside you, twisting your stomach. You close your eyes for a brief second, overwhelmed by the flood of memories that rush in. Home, warmth, faces you can’t recall without pain. The weight of responsibility that was thrust upon your shoulders—too young, too unprepared, yet here you are, carrying the same heavy burden that Porco now bears, the same impossible task of surviving a world that seems to demand too much.

Your hand tightens around the lighter, but the feeling of loss doesn’t ease. It only makes the ache sharper, a reminder that you can’t go back, and you can’t undo what’s already been done.

“I have also lost some important people in my life, the people that have shaped me to be who I am now.”

The words slip out before you can stop them, and for a brief moment, you almost regret saying anything at all. But there's a truth in it, something raw and real that hangs in the air between you both. The people who helped mold you, who gave you purpose, who made you feel human—those are the ones that stick with you, long after they’re gone. And it’s their absence that leaves the deepest scars.

“It’s like they’re still with you, but not really,” you add, your voice distant. “You carry them with you, but sometimes it feels like they’re just ghosts. And all you can do is try to make sense of it all, even when it doesn’t make sense anymore.”

"You know," he says after a beat, the humor in his voice gone, replaced by something more subdued, "sometimes I wonder if I'd be less of a mess if he was still around. Maybe he could’ve talked me out of some of the shit I’ve done.”

You don’t respond right away. The shift in his tone isn’t lost on you. It’s not the playful jab you’d been expecting, but something rawer, something closer to the truth than either of you had expected to share.

"You don't need him to tell you what’s right or wrong, Porco," you say softly, trying to keep the conversation grounded. "You’ve been making your own choices for a long time now. Maybe it’s time you stop leaning on ghosts to figure out what you’re doing.”

Porco’s gaze flickers toward you, a wry smile tugging at his lips, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Guess you’re right. But it sure would’ve been nice to have someone who actually got it. Someone who didn't treat me like a fucking weapon.”

You feel the words hit you harder than expected. "You know, you’re not just a weapon, Porco. And you’re not the only one who's ever felt like one." The words spill out before you can stop them, the quiet vulnerability in your own voice surprising even you. You didn’t expect to be the one offering comfort here, but somehow, it feels right.

Porco takes a long moment to respond, staring at the cigarette between his fingers before flicking the ash off into the night. “Yeah, well, it’s hard not to feel like one when that’s all anyone’s ever used you for.”

You don’t have an answer for that. Instead, you let the quiet settle in again, the space between you two filled with an understanding that doesn’t need words.The conversation, like everything else, eventually fades into something quieter, easier. But there’s still the lingering feeling that, despite the ghosts, despite the weight of everything that’s been said and done, you’re both still here. Still standing. Still breathing.

“Maybe one day we’ll stop letting the past haunt us so much,” you say, almost to yourself, more as a hope than a statement. "Maybe then we’ll figure out who we really are, without all the ghosts.”

Porco glances at you, that familiar smirk returning, though there’s something softer about it now. "Maybe. But I wouldn’t hold my breath."

You grin, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “Yeah, well, we’ve been breathing this long, haven’t we?”

The two of you share a quiet laugh, and for a moment, the world feels a little lighter, the weight of the past suspended in the air around you. The sound of your laughter breaks the tension, and you take a deep breath, letting it all go for just a second.

You glance down at the short bud of your cigarette, finally snuffing it out on the ground, watching as the small amber glow fades.

"This has been one interesting conversation, don't you think?" you say, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Yeah, it has been," he says, his voice softening a bit. "I kinda enjoyed this..." He glances at you for a moment, his expression unexpectedly earnest, before looking down and snuffing out his own cigarette.

You yawn, the small droplets of tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. The conversation had been so engaging, so full of playful teasing and back-and-forth, that you hadn't even noticed how tired you were becoming. The words and laughter had kept you wide awake, but now, with the sudden stillness between you two, the exhaustion caught up to you all at once.

You rub your eyes, stifling another yawn, and glance at Porco. "Guess I didn’t realize how tired I was," you admit, your voice a bit slower now. "This conversation’s been so much fun, I almost forgot about sleep.”

Porco glances at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Didn’t think a conversation could wear you out," he says, his tone light but with a hint of amusement. "Guess I’m just that interesting, huh?"

You let out a soft laugh, rubbing your eyes. "I think it’s just a combination of you and how late it’s gotten.”

Feeling the drowsiness creeping in fully now. Porco watches you for a moment, his smirk replaced with something more genuine. "Take care of yourself, alright? Don’t keep your bed waiting.”

You flash him a tired smile, nodding.”I'll try, need a shower first though. See you around, Mr. Galliard.”

You pivot on your heel, heading toward the nurses' barrack, but suddenly stop, realizing you’ve forgotten something. Turning back, you casually call over your shoulder, “Oh, and if you ever need some tender, love, and care, just head to the Marley Military Hospital and ask for (Name) (Last name).” You drop your name nonchalantly, a playful glint in your eyes.

As you glance back, you catch Porco scratching the back of his neck, his ears tinged pink, a smirk tugging at his lips. He seems caught off guard, yet amused by your casual remark.

The man glanced at you one last time before walking back in the opposite direction, a strange warmth settling in his chest. There was a sense of closeness, an unspoken connection that lingered in the air. He knew he’d see you again.

As he entered the barrack and made his way to his cot, a giddy excitement bubbled up inside him, the feeling of anticipation and something more—something he couldn’t quite place, leaving him smiling to himself as he settled in for the night.

As he lay down on his cot, the blanket feeling unusually warm around him, a smile spread across his face. There was something about the way you had casually dropped your name, something about the playful teasing and the easy way you two had connected, that had stirred something inside him. It wasn’t just the usual flirtation, it felt like the start of something new, something exciting.

He turned onto his side, eyes closing, but his mind was far from the quiet darkness of the barracks. Instead, it was filled with the memory of your smile, the sound of your voice, and that small spark of warmth he couldn’t ignore.

His heart thudded with that familiar feeling like the glow of a new flame flickering to life. It was different from anything he’d felt before, but it was real. He could feel it deep in his chest, the flutter of excitement, the anticipation of what might come next.

He chuckled quietly to himself, shaking his head as he finally allowed himself to drift off to sleep, his thoughts still lingering on you. He had a feeling that this new connection—this spark was only just the beginning.

Just like the cigarettes, the two of you had snuffed out the conversation, the words fading into silence. What had been a lively, playful exchange now rested quietly, the air still with the echoes of your teasing and laughter. As the both of you walked away, the moment came to an end, leaving behind a comfortable sense of finality, like the last ember of a cigarette dying out. The connection had been made, and now, it was simply a matter of waiting for the next time.

[homeslices]

I’m Sorry

A/N: Guess who’s backkk. Sorry for taking so long again, school has been stressing me out. Also my newest hyperfixation is The Last of Us (naturally) and so I’ve decided I want to write for it tooooo. I am still writing for Alice in Borderland but writer's block kinda hit me with that (I’ll be up and writing for it soon and I have all of your requests already in mind). I realized there was very little Ellie x a maternal figure fics and decided I needed to change that.

Summary: A little pre-apocalypse the rest post-apocalypse, you comfort Ellie when she has a nightmare. Ellie may be a little ooc but I tried my best.

Pairings: platonic!Ellie Williams x motherfigure!reader, Joel Miller x wife!reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Spoilers for season 1, mention of Sarah’s death, David, mentions of attempted SA

You have always wanted children, wanted to be a mother.

And you got that chance once before in what feels like another life.

You’re step-daughter Sarah, who you helped raise and thought of as your own, was the light of your life.

You, having recently moved to a new neighborhood, couldn’t help notice your neighbor struggling to take care of his baby daughter by himself. You could tell he was running on little to no sleep and when he about had a fit trying, and ultimately failing, to put in a car seat into the back of his truck you finally stepped in and helped him.

All of the pieces soon fell together afterward. You helped him when he needed it, babysitting Sarah when he was about to collapse from sleep deprivation, teaching him how to put in a car seat correctly, and bringing over dinner when you could tell he had a long day at work. Similarly, Joel also lent you a hand when needed as well. Fixing your car when it wouldn’t turn on, helping repair your new house, and also listing that same house when you fell in love and moved into his home with his daughter. That same daughter whose second word was mama- dada obviously being the first.

The day that Joel proposed to you was the same day that Sarah asked you to be her mom officially, by adopting her. Your wedding was when you all decided to sign the adoption papers, and you legally became not only a wife, but a mom as well.

Life was blissful. You had the family you always wanted and were the happiest you could ever be.

But then the world ended, literally.

The day of the apocalypse officially starting, was the same day that a piece of you died inside.

Your daughter died in Joel and your arms that night terrified, calling out for you and her father to make the pain stop.

It changed the both of you.

The person that brought you both together, was now gone, and all that you could do now was hold on to each other.

So when your friend Tess, your husband and you went to see Robert about the car battery, you were also roped into smuggling a young girl to another firefly base across the country.

You tried to keep her at an arm's length. Ellie reminded you so much of your Sarah, the humor, the attitude, the persistence, and you didn’t know if you got close to her and she suffered the same fate as your daughter, that you would be able to recover again.

But somehow, Ellie wormed her way into your heart, and there was no going back now. You love that girl, just as you love Sarah, and the maternal urge to protect her from any harm overwhelmed you.

So when you found out that you weren’t able to protect her from a twisted individual that wanted to do something worse than kill Ellie, it made you see something more violent than red. You could’ve burned the world down with your rage, and honestly you still could.

You blamed yourself in all honesty. Because both Joel and you were injured, Ellie wanted to protect the pair of you. In doing so she got captured and not knowing where she was, you and Joel found her only after she walked out of a burning building, covered in that monster’s blood.

As you take watch a few weeks later, your attention snaps over to Ellie as she mumbles in her sleep. You’ve been more hyperfocused on her ever since him, making a promise to both her, and yourself, that you’d never let anything like that happen again.

With a sign, you return your attention to the darkness surrounding you and the people you care about. Joel was sleeping next to you, still recovering from his injury, and Ellie was on the other side, moving and muttering every once and a while.

However, the sudden jerk of Ellie and the distressed scream she let out in her sleep immediately made you jump in surprise and scramble towards her.

Her eyes were screwed shut, eyebrows were furrowed, and her breaths were coming out in hard pants. She was terrified, you could tell, and the second her mouth parts again to let out another petrified cry you firmly, but gently, try to shake her awake.

“Ellie,” you say in a low tone. “Wake up, it’s just a dream.”

Her eyes immediately fly open, and out of fear and what seemed to be the cloud of sleep plus the threat of her nightmare still hanging over her, she flips open her knife that she recently started to sleep with and slashes it blindly towards your hand.

Realizing your mistake, you quickly pull your arm away, but not before a gash forms on your hand drawing a hiss from you.

Ellie’s eyes were no longer affected by sleep and panic, but now were filled with horror at her actions.

“I-” she chokes. “I-I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”

You cut off her apologizes with a gentle hush.

“Ellie it’s okay, it was an accident.”

Moving slowly, like you would with a wounded animal, you gently remove the knife from her grip, then hold her hands in your own- albeit after you wiped the blood from your hand on your pants.

“Are you alright?” You ask, scooting closer to her not in a hovering manner but more so she knows you’re there mentally, emotionally, and physically.

“I’m the one who should be asking you that. I hurt you, almost stabbed you! What kind of sick-”

You interrupt the young girl off once again.

“Ellie it was my fault I shouldn’t have woken you up like that.”

She doesn’t reply to that, instead her eyes were focused on your still bleeding hand.

“It’s not bad at all, just a flesh wound,” you try to comfort her. “Doesn’t even need stitches.”

Ellie looks away from you, however, you could hear her mumble, “but it could’ve been,” in reply to your first statement.

Raising your uninjured hand, making sure it’s in Ellie’s line of sight so she doesn’t get startled, you comfortingly rub her arm. Her body seems to relax from her tense state slightly, shoulders drooping as proof.

“I’m sorry,” she says once again, voice small and eyes glassy.

Ellie was emotionally stubborn, similar to your husband, and seeing her like this broke you. You have only seen the girl in this vulnerable position a handful of times before, and it always made you want to hold her close and never let go.

“Ellie listen to me,” You make eye contact with her, just so she can truly understand what you’re about to say. “That was not your fault. You had a nightmare and I startled you.”

You pause for a second trying to figure out how to word the next part of your reassurance.

So with a gentle voice you finally start speaking again.

“I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure nothing like that ever happens to you again and-” your voice cracks with emotion. “I’m so sorry Ellie. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t able to stop him, and I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there for you when you needed me the most.”

Her eyes that were previously glasses were now overflowing and falling down her face.

Then, in a blink of an eye, the young girl that you’ve grown to love like another daughter, crashes against you. Her face pressed against your left shoulder and her arms wrapped around you tightly as if you would make her let go. Not a chance in hell you would.

Your arms surrounded her and at this point, her body was shaking due to her tears.

Soon you heard Ellie’s muffled, shaky voice speak out.

“It wasn't your fault. It was never your fault.”

At that point your tears were falling down your face as well. Gently, you rub your hand in comforting circles on her back and sway the both of you back and forth.

Ellie’s shaking soon died down. It took some time but exhaustion finally hit her, so now she was fast asleep in your arms, snoring softly.

You let out a watery chuckle, emotions still running high, as you continued watch with Ellie in your arms.

The sun soon rises a few hours later. Joel’s eyes flicked open ready to wake up and start the day’s journey. Nevertheless by doing so, he was met with the familiar sight of his wife holding a sleeping young girl, eyes focused towards the sun in the distance, and couldn’t help the small smile that crossed over his face.

Both Joel’s and your thoughts were very similar at that moment.

You’d both do anything to keep your family safe.

[khorazir]

Fic Writer Meme

I’m quite late to this, but thanks a lot for the tag @discordantwords

How many works do you have on ao3? 30 in total. Most are for BBC Sherlock, three are for Dead Boy Detectives

What’s your total word count? 1,574,736 (how did that happen?)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Enigma

The Horse and his Doctor

Rewind

Putting up Shelves

The Summer Boy

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

Yes, I do, although sometimes, it takes me a while.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

All of my fics have happy endings. For a while, I played with an angsty ending for my WW2 codebreaker fic Enigma, but ultimately decided against it and gave the boys their deserved happy ending.

Do you write crossovers?

Yes, kinda. I’m currently writing a Dead Boy Detectives fic (The Case of the Stolen Barrow) that borrows characters from Terry Pratchett’s Discworld. And there is going to be a crossover between Sherlock and Dead Boy Detectives as the next fic in this series.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not really, but there has been what I like to refer to as the Rabies Incident for my Horselock fic The Horse and his Doctor. When I mentioned that John, a veterinarian, would insist on a rabies shot for an animal he found, I got a number of messages from UK citizens reminding me that there is no rabies in the UK (even though I had checked with actual UK vets before and they’d said that of course they’d give a rabies shot to an animal of unknown origin). But yeah, just so that people know, there is no rabies in the UK ;)

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do, kinda. Most of the sex scenes I have written are rather emotional and a little awkward and experimental (and thus hopefully realistic).

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Some have ended up on Wattpad and in other places where they shouldn’t have been. I wouldn’t really call that stealing. I think (I hope) in most cases those who uploaded them there didn’t have any bad intentions. I don’t like it, though. The same goes for my art, which has been stolen and ended up on t-shirts and stuff without my authorisation.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I used to co-write Tolkien fanfic on messageboards back in the late 1990s and early 2000s, but eventually, my co-authors dropped off, so the fics were never completed.

What's your all-time favourite ship?

At the moment Johnlock and Payneland, but I also have a soft spot for Faramir and Éowyn (book only!), and Laura Holt and Remington Steele.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I do try to finish all my WIPs, although it sometimes takes me a long, long time. Although I have an inkling that The Passage may never be finished ...

What are your writing strengths?

I think I’m quite good at writing dialogue and descriptions of places.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing smut is not my forte, I guess.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I have included dialogue in other languages in several of my fics, but they are always languages I either speak fluently or have at least a working knowledge of.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

If you count a machine-typed fic from the early 1990s, it’s Indiana Jones.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

At the moment, I’ve got my hands full with four idiot detectives, two alive and two dead.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

Oooh, that’s difficult. I have a soft spot for The Summer Boy, and also Slipstream and Nightjet. And my cracky Dead Boy Detectives fic The Petition because I had so much fun writing about demons bitching about their work conditions in Hell.

I don’t know who has been tagged before, so if you’d like to play, please do.

[nvuy]

HOW DO YOU WRITE SMUT PLEASE. IM STRUGGLING

in a nutshell: every dude that gets head is gonna feel great and there’s a hot mouth on his dick or whatever, but the difference is how he thinks about it and what he does about it. is he ramrod fucking stiff to remind the audience that he’s an absolute loser virgin and this is his first time, or is he incredibly experienced, and touches your face all over to encourage you? it’s a spectrum.

i like to focus on feelings rather than what’s actually happening. there’s only so much i can say about sunday receiving head; may as well reach into his mind and try to figure out what he’d do and think and feel and say in that situation. im also weird and write weird things, and i say im not a porn writer, but 3/4 of my fics on ao3 are all porn.

so yeah i guess just try to like. less talk about “and then you sucked him off” or whatever and more focus on what both people would feel in that certain moment, and try to keep it in character.

at the same time my writing is so chock full of shit and piss every five sentences so i feel bad for anyone that has the attention span of a goldfish and didn’t pick up in chapter 2 on page 17 that you had brown timber walls and the carpet was grey and there was a vase in the hall that comes into play in chapter 74 when you have an epiphany on said carpet.

[darcyfangirlsfrequently]

my reactions to episode 6 of season 2 of criminal minds evolution

spoilers under the cut!

the alarms blaring and dead people everywhere just reminds me of the way "Saturday" begins

Okay I thought this was real until I saw Luke shot and half dead on the floor. Yay for Tara being so concerned though, TarVez besties canon!!

Okay when they said we'd hear prentiss singing, this is NOT what i had in mind

JESUS christ wtf is this

Aww I love seeing Penelope take care of her friends

Luke and Penelope being beside each other in a frame 🥰 getting my garvez crumbs where i can

Tara Lewis you are SO pretty

Penelope knowing her dad is at the end of his rope and being SO patient with him 😂😂 (also, luke, i see you staring at her)

Is Rossi about to have a fucking breakdown in the middle of the BAU?? I can't handle that

Luke following Penelope into her office YESSSSS

Oops i guess not. that's jj.

Penelope there is one person on this team i can understand you struggling to look at... JJ isn't them. what's going on?

"It's between beige and bad kissing" well penelope i feel like if you got with a certain someone you'd never have to deal with that again

JJ reading her besties to shit. I love my OG BAU girls

Penelope you are NOT ALLOWED TO BE JEALOUS

tyler's ex is so pretty tho

Luke wipe that smirk off your face 😂

"Even more awkward than you working with Tyler is him working with me" Luke do you HEAR yourself??? You are outing yourself and your feelings even more. You are ADMITTING your jealousy

"Luke we need you in here" not even TWO SECONDS LATER i knew it was coming but it's still funny

PENELOPE GARCIA DID YOU JUST TOUCH HIS ARM????

Penelope's "oh" upon finding out who teresa is. this is just a group of exes up in here

Tara 🤝 Emily wives calling Dave out for not going to therapy

Soft Tara and Dave!! I love them.

ROSSI WORDLESSLY REACHING OUT FOR TARA'S HAND I AM IN SHAMBLES

JJ sneaking a cheeto 😂 i'm glad there are SOME consistencies in this show

High Emily is just Paget

Emily is so right about salt and vinegar chips. They're the BEST.

Does a picture of sergio in the background count for my sergio square on my bingo card?

Tara and Emily having the same middle name canon

"I didn't know super hot latina was your type" Well, Penelope, now you have something in common

TYLER setting boundaries i love to see it.

Mutual airing of exes... now i wonder if she brought Luke up or hid that particular detail

Wait shit I was half joking in my fic when I said tyler was still in love with teresa, but if he fr is i will be so happy and rooting for them

luke having to ask the ex of the ex of the love of his life what the story is with her and said ex

"I had a thing for army guys" NO NO NO IF THEY TRY TO MAKE TERESA AND LUKE A THING I WILL FLIP

luke's heart eyes watching penelope's presentation

oh she's calling tyler OUTTTTTT

"81% of stalking victims are stalked by someone they know." Two things. 1. Love Luke getting his Spencer Reid moments and getting to be smart. 2. THIS IS A GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY TO TALK ABOUT ALEXEI STANOVICH AT SOME POINT

"sticky chemistry that is in the room between us all" means Penelope is acknowledging the her and luke stuff as well

LESS awkward to do boys with boys and girls with girls??? Penelope are you KIDDING???

"that's the less awkward option?" tyler i feel you

Luke's face is like "babe are you KIDDING i just told you me working with him is so awkward"

"For me and Teresa it is" icon

Tyler HAS to know that there is something Garvezy happening, because he and Luke seem to be the only people grasping the true awkwardness of this situation

oh so this is NOT emily's first time high. Temily writers i would like fics about them getting high together please and thank you

"I'm quitting" fucking LIES you won't leave them like that

WEED LACED CHEETOS??? DO THOSE REALLY EXIST???? god poor jj

"now being around him i know he's over me because i don't feel it anymore" i know penelope's ensuing awkwardness is supposed to be because she DOES still feel it with tyler or whatever, but i'm choosing to believe it actually has her thinking about Luke

"a list of everyone you've ever made angry" luke babes you are going to be at the TOP of that list

okay i have been WAITING for this tyler/luke fight

oh tyler did NOT use luke being a ranger against him

wtaf is this conversation. i'm living for it but it's WEIRD

HAHA voit's rossi impression

Bailey mention!!

Hate to see Rossi struggling. But I have to admit Voit's manipulation of him is so well done

Morgan AND Hotch mention. When's the last time we got a Morgan mention???

So they're finally talking about BAU-gate... and they're high. lovely.

The way Luke says "Penelope Garcia" and cannot even stop himself from smiling

omg luke finally speaking spanish!! (@lklvz how're you coping?)

Luke's grandmother mention!!

ugh they're so gonna try to make luke and teresa a thing. aren't they.

OH WHAT THE FUCK. TERESA CALLING LUKE TF OUT FOR BEING A PENELOPE SIMP WAS NOT WHAT I EXPECTED

OH MY GOD HE ACTUALLY JUST SAID HE LOVES HER

Also, Luke, wdym Penelope knows??? Bc i ASSURE you she does not

"it was a hard pass for both of us" LIES

noooooooooooooooooooo how did we go from something SO GARVEZ to teresa essentially asking him out? Lady he just said he's in love with someone else this will not go well for you

what is this video game conversation

maybe i'm just tired but i do NOT get what voit is alluding to with north star and stuart house

Tyler this feels kinda stupid

if i had a nickle for every time luke saved tyler's life, i'd have two nickles. which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice, right?

Luke and Tyler friendship arc???

okay. Jemilys, how are y'all doing? I might not get you, I might not be one of you, but I know you're losing it

OH EMILY KNOWS ABOUT THE MISCARRIAGE I'M SOBBING

If Teresa asks Luke out in front of Penelope i will SCREAM

So Penelope definitely thinks Luke/Teresa is a thing but I'm pretty sure that howl was her telling Luke to be brave and tell Penelope he loves her

oh THIS is where Jill comes in. I keep forgetting about her.

ahhh this was so good

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #10

Some speculation and feelings now that I've slept after a binge up to "Trial or Hair-or" and took a break, before I start anything else.

I'm not sure when I can next watch episodes, so please don't reply with spoilers.

Background Characters

I was really worried about Whispers Fred. I only read a small glimpse of the story bible / concept art page a year+ ago- I was pretty sure I remembered Winn and Whispers Fred, though I would not have been able to recite their names.

After recognizing them, I was expecting them to be glued to Hazel's hip. I thought I'd find Whispers Fred and his ASMR shtick really annoying, but he's actually totally fine and doesn't bother me at all.

I'm relieved, because "Writers trying to be cool and they think kids want ASMR, and also I'm pretty sure a kid trying to look this stuff up could easily go down an online route they probably shouldn't be going down at their age" has been my mental vision for the direction this show is going for the past, like, 15 months and I thought I'd have issues with him.

I really like him now because you can tell Hazel's classmates all have their own depth and running gags, which is a great improvement on most of Timmy's classmates.

I can definitely look back and name the shticks for Chester, A.J., Trixie, Chloe, Kevin, Elmer, Sanjay, and Francis. We knew them- You could write a 'fic with them in it and no one would question the lack of other characters, because that's a great cast.

-> But yeah, we didn't really know much about personalities or what they do, and many of those characters I listed faded away in later seasons. I like how we're starting off strong. It makes it feel very planned. We know Whispers Fred has a podcast, even. Impressive.

Throwing this out here because it's still hilarious, but there are at least two kids in Timmy's class who are confirmed godkids - He sees them at Cupid's party - but they were both mysteriously absent when Doombringer came in as a sub to start fairy hunting and it cracks me up.

And that was all the depth we got to them, because it was never played up (and let's be real, they were thrown into Cupid's party from the character stockpile folder).

I like how Hazel is befriending people in her class. Some of them aren't fully fleshed out yet, but they don't need to be. We're getting enough that if I wanted to write a 'fic, I could way more easily play with the personalities of Hazel's classmates than Timmy's, and I love that.

[cnt'd below cut - Very long post, including things I wouldn't truly call negativity, but my vibe is discussing the things I like and the things that aren't working for me personally.

This post leans into things that aren't working since previous posts have been about what is working. Heads up for discussions of child abuse and nostalgic comparisons to the OG show. Proceed at own discretion

Reminder, I'm only up to "Trial or Hair-or" at time of posting this]

Would I Be Watching This If It Wasn't Claiming to be FOP?

The show is very enjoyable; let's start with that. I like Hazel. I like Cosmo and Wanda. I like the set-ups and the kids.

I like watching the show, but... It doesn't feel like FOP, in the sense that I'm not seeing the things that draw me to the original show (Like... the child abuse? Or Crocker? Or the risk of losing your fairies? Or Timmy's struggle to keep his secrets from Vicky, his parents, and his friends?)

Hazel's made a vague mention that she has to keep fairies a secret, but we have no proof Cosmo and Wanda would leave her. No memory wipes either.

Maybe it's just me, but FOP without child abuse is... a WILD concept to me. lol. Dev seems to have issues and I suspect he's being set up for a future plot that delves into them, but it's still funny that our main character is, like... chillin'. No self-hatred? No dissociative issues or anxiety attacks? No sneaking around? Are you sure you're in the right show?

Okay, I guess Dev is bullying her, but he's not been nearly as bad as Francis, who caused physical harm. Heck, Tootie caused Timmy more stress than Dev's causing Hazel. Trixie literally treated Timmy worse than Dev is treating Hazel- she was launching him across the room when he spoke to her.

I'm liking the show, and I see potential in this world where I could set a 'fic... but what would that 'fic even be about? This place is fluffy; Hazel's not struggling much and there's not a lot of meat here for me to dig into.

I'm not seeing stakes, and I'm kinda "hm" about it.

And I'm kinda worried I'm watching a watered-down show that's been made more palpable to an audience looking for found family fluff. Which is fine! ... It's just that I'm here for Fairly OddParents vibes. Where's my child abuse?

I'm nostalgic. I miss my boy who kept a scrapbook with pictures of him in therapy. I miss the jokes that the court once got involved and appointed the family a child psychologist. I miss how he broke down in front of Trixie, wailing that he'll always love her no matter what his therapist says. He had a lot going on that we never saw onscreen, only the implications, and I love him <3

This was the boy who literally froze time for 50 years and told no one; he was messed up and they were not afraid to paint him that way.

I'm the target audience for "people who like seeing tiny details from the OG show brought back," but I'm not the target audience for fluff or sweet and innocent characters, so if that's what we get, I don't think I'll get giddy about it.

And I'll be 100% okay with that because I enjoy watching the show anyway even if it's different, and I'm just super grateful we've got something nice for the series after so many years of a difficult slide.

I write my 'fics and I've made worldbuilding posts for 8 and a half years, but I rarely main-tag anything, and I have unique blog tags for each character so they're harder for people to stumble on, because I was trying to lie low and avoid fandom negativity I kept seeing when I ventured into the tags. So... as much as I'm nostalgic and as much as I have my fingers crossed for the things I want to see, I'm super grateful this show is very enjoyable and seems to be bringing a wave of positivity and new viewers into the fandom.

Let's be clear- I'm REALLY enjoying watching this show, but I'm waiting to see if it adds stuff that fits my interests, that's what this post is.

Threats to Cosmo and Wanda's safety?

I want to start by saying I appreciate how Crocker isn't Hazel's teacher and her dad is not obsessively trying to catch her fairies. Danny's parents trying to catch ghosts worked perfectly fine in his show, but I'm glad this one is a different direction. It's nice to mix things up and not fall into a previous formula.

It's hilarious that her dad is like, seriously doing his paranormal job and it doesn't even affect Hazel, Cosmo, or Wanda yet (where I've watched up to). That's hilarious.

I'm hoping that it's going to come back, because I haven't seen a strong sense that it will. Hazel's dad has speculated there's a ghost in his house a little, but he's not investigated at all and we've not seen any tension regarding this. I hope we're setting up a big plot with confrontation, but there's not enough there yet to make me believe we are, so I hesitate to trust the pay-off is there.

Unclear how Cosmo and Wanda meet Hazel in the morning. Do they stroll over? I assume not- Her parents would think that's weird. They're not in animal form because they're neighbors, so are they poofing over? Do they wake her up like they used to wake Timmy?

Thus far, we've not seen signs that Cosmo and Wanda could be in danger. Jorgen's made an attempt to take them away, which was their fault for claiming a godkid they had no right to take tbh. I don't mind taking a break from Crocker's obsessions, but I do miss the tension he brought us. I miss the danger. I miss the angst implications- This show is pretty fluffy so far, and I can appreciate it, but that's not "FOP vibes" for me.

Jorgen implied Cosmo would get hurt when he fell off a tower, but otherwise we've not seen signs that Fairies can be hurt or killed. And I don't know if that's even a thing that carried over in this universe, so I have to treat it as 0 risk of death.

It would be 100% reasonable for Hazel's dad to shake C and W's hands and ask to interview them, which is fine - It's a new vibe than Crocker, Doombringer, and Leadly and we could probably use that - but I think I'd be disappointed if that was the payoff for emotional investment of implied danger.

C and W haven't expressed any fear in Hazel's dad since Episode 1. I really liked Episode 1 - a lot of thought went into it - but the rest of the episodes seem like they're using Episode 1 as a diving board, but not circling back to what we established there. Which is actually super frustrating right now.

You hooked me! ... So, where's the stuff you hooked me with?

We're no longer getting C and W fumbling around the human world, we're no longer getting miserable Hazel, we haven't had any awkward neighbor interactions between C and W and the parents, and we're no longer getting the threats to C and W's safety. I feel a little cheated and I hope we see more threats later.

Please give me an awkward dinner party with the neighbors. Give me one of the parents coming over to borrow sugar and C and W have to poof away from Hazel and rush back home to maintain their facade.

Give me neighbors wanting to come to a party at C and W's and they have to protect everyone from accidentally wandering into Fairy World or using dangerous Fairy equipment. Give me C and W getting put in charge of a neighborhood event they don't know anything about. Give me Hazel's parents asking if C and W can babysit and they're so paranoid that they call constantly to check in while C and W try to act like everything is normal and they're not running around doing magical things.

I feel like we've given personality to the schoolkids, which is fine... but I'd love to see personality for the neighbors. To me, living in the same building as fairies who don't know how to be human is a fantastic plot set-up, and they're doing nothing with it.

In other words, I'm glad Hazel is delved-into as a character, but I feel like we've not seen anything about what's going on with Cosmo and Wanda.

-> Hazel's in her school arc right now, but maybe we'll have a summer break arc?

Here's my thought on that. Bluey does a really good job of balancing what's going on with the kids and what's going on with the adults. Yes, the show focuses more on the kids, but it's always clear what the adults are doing, like Bandit trying to talk to his friends while Bluey complains about him taking too long, and Bandit feeling sad when his friends leave so he can take care of Bluey.

Early in the series, we see the kids playing in the park ("Shadowlands") while Chilli and her friends talk about TV shows they like in the background. There's a constant sense in that series that Bandit and Chilli have interactions with other people- Heck, we even get an episode of Bandit struggling to make a new friend (and struggling with Bingo getting in the way of that).

I'm not getting that here. C and W do have personality, but do they have friends? Or coworkers? Or stakes? I didn't see a lot of depth to their brief interaction with Jorgen, nor does Cookie seem to be someone they know in any way.

For this show to win me over, I need them to interact with their neighbors and environment in a way they're not currently doing. Right now, they're just giving Hazel magic... but I'm starting to think they could be sexy magic lamps. I don't remember struggling with these feelings in the OG show, although back then I binged like 4 seasons before making any posts.

- It is not to their favor that they can easily spend an episode in object form and just chill. We used to have Crocker trying to sniff them out even in object form, and I kind of miss that. And yeah, they're retired, but I hope we get to see more character depth and relationship involvement in the future. - In the early season, we had background conversations like Wanda trying to lure Cosmo to the doctor, Wanda explaining to Cosmo that their "special alone time" wasn't meeting her needs and she wants more snuggles, or Cosmo being a pushover when Wanda's dad came around, or Cosmo sneaking his mom into their guest room, or Wanda blatantly telling Cosmo that she still thinks Juandissimo is intriguing. I miss the up and down of that dynamic. It's nice to see them fluffy, but... they're kind of flat. I liked the mail scene and how Wanda hugged Cosmo after he rescued Hazel in Episode 1, but again... it feels like most of their characterization happened in Episode 1. I have my fingers crossed we'll get some of that in the future, like Cosmo and Wanda cheering each other on when they learn things about the human world, or Cosmo sacrificing himself to save her from the Pixie takeover, or showing that when he stands up for his family, he's extremely powerful. tl;dr - I hope we get Cosmo standing up for Wanda. I'm glad they love each other, but I'm not seeing a lot to interest me in their ship. I'm more interested in Hazel's parents, tbh. They've got stuff going on in their "breadwinner therapist vs. paranormal investigator" vibe. And they play with Hazel and hold hands in the background. They're cute, and I want more of that for C and W. - Actually, Timmy used to get called out by his classmates for being "That weird kid who talks to inanimate objects." There don't seem to be any risks for Hazel yet. - If you were to ask me what the biggest threats are to this godparent relationship, I'd say it's either Cosmo and Wanda overstepping past Jorgen and upsetting him, or Hazel's dad finding out. But I'm not sure we're going to push those plots further, which saddens me. Holding out hope, though. - That is actually hilarious I don't see Dev as a threat to her right now, since that was Remy's whole thing. Good for him? Like, he's mildly annoying her in the background, but he's not a true danger at this time. - Jasmine has implied she's sus about Hazel, but it's been brushed off twice without her investigating. I don't think we're delving into it more, which is a shame. I want Jasmine to be weirded out.

Episode 1? Absolutely not lamps- Cosmo and Wanda were involved, they had depth, and there was tension. And the other episodes are fun, but their personalities have taken a backseat.

You can tell there was a ton of thought put into how Cosmo and Wanda interact with the human world in Episode 1. That seems to have gone away now, and they're even in reboots of their old outfits instead of their human disguises, so... it's nostalgic, but I kind of wanted to see how they'd changed over time. If you're going to give them new outfits, why not use them?

If C and W were, presumably, aging while on their time travel vacation that lasted 10k years and they look the same, what on earth was Jorgen doing that makes him look so aged after just a handful of years? I'm unclear where we are in the timeline.

We've had some nice Cosmo-Wanda-Hazel moments (like the seahorse and princess game where they were playing together), but I'm thinking the "Cosmo and Wanda nitpicking at each other" problem has been solved by taking away their conversations with each other- they're really just here to talk to Hazel.

That's fine, I guess. I just want to see more of them interacting with each other. Because I miss them.

It reminds me of when I critiqued Sparky vs. Chloe, because I felt Chloe fit really well in the dynamic while Sparky was interacting with Timmy, but not really Cosmo or Wanda. Chloe was a great balance of changing the entire dynamic (so was Poof).

I feel like this will probably change in the future when we're not pushing the "Gotta show Hazel is a well-rounded character and focus on her above everyone" direction, but since I'm liveblogging, I need to cite where I am and what I'm looking forward to.

I'm not seeing enough fairy biology going on. I like what Cosmo gave us regarding stretchy skin, but... what is life like for these people? Do they have to avoid touching humans?

Do Cosmo and Wanda pay rent? Do they pay taxes? Do they know their neighbors? Do they see other kids and get nostalgic for their past godkids? (I have to assume yes, since they took in Hazel).

-> I like the implication in "A Dinosaur in Dimmsdale" that Cosmo and Wanda have been around long enough to be familiar with the special event held at that time. I'd like more of that, but also deeper. And maybe that's asking a little much since the show is for kids and of course it's focusing on the kid... Idk, maybe I'm reading into this too much.

I like how Cosmo has twice struggled to hide his crown. That's a step in the right direction, but unfortunately I can't remember if his second time was also in the first episode.

That first episode was beautiful- everything I wanted. But the others don't meet the expectations and story hooks that lured me in.

I think what I'm trying to say is that my vision of Cosmo and Wanda in New Wish relies heavily on what I got from the OG series. I don't think I've seen much in New Wish to give them enough personality to stand their own.

I'd really like to see Juandissimo or Mama Cosma shake things up. I think by this point in the OG series(?), we'd seen them split in "Dog Day Afternoon" and "Apartnership." We knew Wanda wanted to be an author, we knew Wanda had friends in town, we knew Cosmo was a mama's boy, and we knew they were goofballs who were rarely apart and would totally crash into things when they were looking at the other.

We also knew Cosmo and Wanda had issues with being mistreated ("A Wish Too Far"). They were also goofballs who struggled to pass as human ("Transparents") and joke around ("Tiny Timmy"), and they'd make their own assumptions even if they weren't what Timmy expected (Stealing an alien prince in "Spaced Out" instead of making their own monster). Cosmo even pretended he was about to explode in "Same Game" to joke with Wanda, so she didn't believe him when he was actually close to exploding.

AGAIN... I am not far into New Wish. On one hand, it's great that Hazel's not mistreating Cosmo and Wanda, so we don't need an episode like "A Wish Too Far." I think we'll be getting more depth later in the series, but I'm liveblogging my thoughts so we can see if my opinions change.

-> I don't feel like we've learned enough about Da Rules. They were a big deal in the OG series and I'm very unclear on what Hazel does or doesn't know. I'm unclear which of the Big Rules are still in play. In the OG Season 1, Cosmo and Wanda had to grant wishes when Timmy talked in his sleep. I'd like a bit more of those rules showing up here.

-> Unclear to me if Cosmo and Wanda stay in Hazel's room at night.

I just still think they're a little "sexy lamp" for me and I want this to change. As annoying as they were (affectionate), I'd love to see Mama Cosma, Big Daddy, Blonda, Schnozmo, or Juandissimo mix things up. Because Cosmo and Wanda both have drastically different reactions to each of those people.

Maybe that's what's missing for me, because I've been writing 'fics where they ARE interacting with these people, so I'm used to seeing them have to juggle other people? In which case, that's unfair for me to judge, lol.

Blonda only had 2 episodes I think, and one of them was a cameo where she wasn't interacting with Wanda. It'd be super interesting to see her return and play a role as large as Mama Cosma's or something. I miss her too.

I am REALLY looking forward to seeing more of how Antony plays into Hazel's life. It's incredibly obvious that she cares for him (even sleeping in a bunk bed and wearing his hand-me-down shirts), so that's fantastic.

tl;dr - Cosmo and Wanda are just kind of there (imo). I'm pretty sure the episodes after the first would be basically the same if Hazel had no fairies, but was a witch who could use magic on herself.

I'm not seeing anything that makes me say "Yes, this definitely needed to be a show about godparents and not just any show about kids with magic." Give me a reason why we couldn't have a show about Hazel being a witch, having spy gadgets or tech, or having a genie. I want Fairy World! I want misery!!

Fairy World and Jorgen

I'm putting my faith in the idea that we'll return to Fairy World. I can't imagine that we wouldn't, but I have to say, our first glimpse of it didn't look too magical or dramatic.

I like how the OG series sets Timmy up as believing Fairy World is glittery and magical, so Cosmo and Wanda must goof off all day. In reality, Fairy World is big on rules and discipline. I think we take Jorgen for granted as a character since he's been around for 20+ years. It's easy to forget how funny it is that we have a big, buff, military-attitude fairy bossing people around a glittery magical world. That's hilarious!

Think of how "Old Black Magic" gives us a street made of playing cards or how "Odd Squad" gives us purple grass and cars without wheels. Some of their streets float and twist around each other. Their world should look "exciting and unfathomable to the human mind." We haven't seen the Rainbow Bridge either, really.

I have no drive to revisit Fairy World after "Department of Magical Violations," which was the 2nd episode. It didn't look magical or fun. You can tell Jorgen still has his characterization (Being strict but also liking to party), but... he wasn't contrasted against the magic of fluffy Fairy World. Without the contrast, he's just a guy.

I hope we see him again and he gets another chance to show his depth, because even though I went in knowing full-well who he is, I felt like we weren't given enough. I don't even remember seeing his giant staff.

-> He debuted in short episodes in the OG series, so it's not an issue of not being double length. I just think he wasn't utilized as well in such little time.

Give me the guy who used to turn Cosmo into a monkey during drills. Give me the guy who uses a jet pack because he cut his wings off. You don't even get to see his back in his debut, so it's totally possible new viewers might think he still has wings 😔

-> That might seem like a silly thing to be disappointed in, but after the effort that went into showing us details like Hazel's house number or how Cosmo and Wanda crawl across the floor, I feel like Jorgen didn't get the same fully in-depth treatment. He should be someone we're totally hyped to see, but he's... there.

-> Even in Season 0, we were introduced to Jorgen in a way that subverted expectations: the big, scary fairy who was such a contrast with the idea of a friendly godparent was intimidating his godkid (making him wish to live)... AND he's dating the Tooth Fairy. I just haven't had expectations subverted yet in this show and it makes me kind of sad, because that's Jorgen's biggest "selling point." He's funny in contrasting environments.

Maybe he just needs the right person to bounce off, like Binky.

I will say, I think there's nothing wrong with Jorgen not playing all his goofy cards in front of a stranger. He has a job to do and he's good at his job. But I miss him. I miss the doofus who cried for weeks when the Tooth Fairy broke up with him because she didn't like how he tried to forcibly remove Timmy's buck teeth for a wedding present.

I miss the guy who cried when he lost his job, and tried so hard at the other jobs Timmy set up for him, but he was bad at them because all he knew was to set expectations so he kept spoiling movies while selling tickets... and putting people in the hospital with his muscles.

I miss the guy who found out he was standing "in the same room as his cousin," looked at Cosmo, and then went full steam ahead into "Please let it be my invisible cousin Leonard!"

I miss the guy who used to throw pixies at his dartboard or chase them out of their own building because "He's the only one allowed to cause pain to fairies." I miss the guy who put grenades and barbed wire on pizza and gave it to a child. I miss the guy who works in his nana's cafe and covers his niece's shifts at the pet store. I wonder if he still does game nights with Mama Cosma.

I miss the guy whose idea of a good house pet disguise was a rhino in a fishbowl. I miss Jorgen. I love him, and I really hope we get to see more of his funky, goofy side, because he's such a great character.

I've only seen one episode with him, so I'm probably judging too harshly. I just think he has one of the strongest characterizations that's easy to work with because he's hilarious against a glittery Fairy World backdrop, so I miss him and I don't think the DMV was the best showcase episode for him. I'm nostalgic :(

The abuse & trauma?

I really like how the OG show plays with abuse. Yes, Timmy is an abused kid. We know this. It's made very, very clear without it being too scary for a little kid. The OG show is full of things that appeal to me as a kid (slapstick humor) and as an adult (Watching what Timmy's going through and the clever ways the show plays with the abuse angle without being too scary).

- I'm not seeing why Hazel is miserable? Which is okay, because as I said in a previous post, Cosmo and Wanda came out of retirement and befriended her of their own choice (defying instruction), so they're in a gray area with the usual gameplay rules. - I'm just unable to detect if the "godparents lose their fairies when they're no longer classified as miserable" rule is still a thing in this universe. Or "Hazel will lose her fairies when she grows up or reveals them." It's okay if those rules are gone- I'd just like to know so I can adjust my perception of what the stakes are. - Hazel avoided revealing magic to Jasmine in "Fearless," but it wasn't explicitly stated if she was told the rules or if she's just trying not to scare Jasmine with magic.

I'm a little confused that the writers for this show seem to have toned down the abuse and trauma, yet upped some present-day horror. Like, I legit would not suggest a friend watch "Fearless" or "28 Puddings Later" without a warning.

- Those were some VERY scary spiders for a kids' cartoon, especially compared with the goofy spiders from the OG canon. We had onscreen trypophobia (I think? - Not sure if there were enough holes in the cheese, but there were holes) and I used to have a friend who would've struggled with that part of the episode. And I get that swiss cheese is going to have holes- I'm just a little surprised we didn't go the route of making Jasmine a relatable character for someone with trypophobia and instead she faced all her fears as if they were nothing...? Or is that relatable- I'm not sure. I mean, it's a cartoon, so... idk what I expected. I know I wouldn't love being forced into a bloody environment, and a friend violating that after I told them no would possibly be a deal-breaker (and has been, actually, since I've had ex-friends ever since I was a kid stop caring about my boundaries and try to show me blood and/or purposely try to upset me with blood when they lost interest in me as a friend). But also, Jasmine is 10 and if she wants to try facing her fears, she can. I don't have issues with that. - "28 Puddings Later" had red lighting on the bodies and faces in a way that was a little much for my hemophobia, and I think I'm not going to be watching that episode again unless I do some prep. I was trying not to look for most of it.

It's... weird? Usually the Hartman shows go fine for me, although "T.U.F.F. Puppy" has like 2 episodes that jump my hemophobia, but they were... not drawn-out like this. Those were legitimately spooky things to watch (Saying this as an adult who wasn't genuinely scared, but was analyzing the execution and comparing it to other cartoons I watch). I think that's a great thing that sets the tone of the show... but that's not the tone I really want?

It's totally fine for New Wish to be its own thing, but it's not the FOP that drew me in years ago.

- I want more psychology- and trauma-themed underlying jokes, like Cosmo panicking when Timmy's parents babysat Poof because "Those two have no idea how to raise a child!" followed by panning over to Timmy. - I want more bits like Timmy standing up to Imaginary Gary and saying "When I was 8, I learned what a real monster was like" and introducing Gary to Vicky. I want to be asking "Kid, are you okay? Hey, what was that??" and gushing over implications. -> I've seen the tiniest taste with Dev so far, but not enough to catch my interest this early on. I'm hoping that goes somewhere, but if I'm struggling to see the depth in Cosmo and Wanda, I don't have the highest hopes. Like, childhood trauma was a huge thing in the old show (I would argue it's the main theme), and every time those glimpses of Timmy's genuine struggles came up, I lost my mind. I'm not seeing that with Hazel. I like this show for the magic, sure, but I really liked this show for the underlying trauma themes that made you want to explore character backstories with a 'fic. And I'm sure there are plenty of people who want to explore Hazel's relationship with her brother with a 'fic, and Dev seems to have stuff going on, but Hazel doesn't do for me what Timmy and Chloe did. I discussed Timmy above, so let's talk about Chloe. Chloe had serious mental health struggles. She had multiple dissociative spirals. She committed fraud. She broke into Timmy's house to steal from his dad's toy collection because she was jealous. She lied to authority figures for literally no reason except to make herself look better (Not even to cover up magic- She just straight-up lied). When she was upset, she would pull all-nighters and plot revenge (And that was like, her 3rd episode). She lived in denial even when things went wrong. She also wouldn't stand up for herself sometimes, so Catman pushed her around. She also stole from Kevin Crocker while he was passed out (lol), went on power trips, bribed people (including Crocker) to like her, sold out her friends for extra credit, backstabbed Timmy by turning him into a monster who couldn't speak so he couldn't unwish the wish, and it was very clear why she needed godparents. This child mostly raised herself on Fair Bears cartoons for 50 years of the frozen timestream. She has parents who are rarely home, and when they are, they completely violate her boundaries. Timmy literally has to stand up to them for her at one point because she's spiraling into her second dissociative episode since her parents came back to Dimmsdale- she was strugglin'. Chloe's canon is that without Cosmo and Wanda, she would've led a gang (giving us one of my favorite lines in the series, "I can't believe you found 6 kids with eyepatches"). She couldn't handle watching kids for 1 day without screaming at them, calling them "monster children with evil in their hearts," and making them so miserable, all 3 kids got assigned godparents. At the end of the series, she nails Crocker's bed to the ceiling. She's... a lot. On some level, I enjoy that Hazel is not suffering abuse right now. Hazel is very likable, but I feel like the show is going for a different vibe than what I'm looking for in an FOP show. I miss the trauma undertones. That's why I like this show and why it's deeper for me than many cartoons. This is a show that's been a massive part of my life for 8.5 years, so... I miss those hooks that draw me in. I hope we get something like that for Hazel (or Dev?), but I'm not seeing anything that would draw me into this show if it weren't advertised as a continuation of a show I already really liked. It reads like a show I would put down and walk away from. Well, things did draw me in, but... I don't see them being carried through.

And going back to "Fearless" and "28 Puddings Later," I get it, about the spook factor. It IS pudding. I get the joke we're making here, with how funny it is to think of it as a zombie apocalypse. I'm totally onboard- It's not them, it's me. You just can't make my brain settle down, because it sees what it sees and I have to deal with that.

This feels like FOP without all the things I like about FOP.

I'm just... Where's the kids' show I liked to fawn over because it was fluffy and slapstick on the surface, but secretly playing with trauma underneath? I enjoy the ride New Wish is taking me on, but I think I'm only watching this show because of its FOP connection. If this were some non-reboot (just a brand new Nick show about a kid with some kind of magic), it would be kind of "meh" to me so far. I don't think new viewers or kids would be bothered at all, but I miss the OG.

New Wish kind of gives me Star vs. The Forces of Evil vibes. I enjoyed that show's first season, so I don't say that as a bad thing- I just mean "Star had her own wand and didn't need godparents." Except Star got to explore the responsibility and danger of having a wand and Hazel's not giving me that either.

I like how we've gotten callbacks to the OG series. I get excited by the references and I'm very grateful we finally have a reboot that's taking the show seriously and with love. I hope we can lay it to rest when New Wish is over so it ends with a pleasant memory for people.

I like it, but it's not one of those hidden gems I've stumbled on in the past that I've gotten hooked on (Ex: I randomly stumbled across the Carmen Sandiego 2019 reboot, All Hail King Julien, and Kick Buttowski, and every single one of those blew me out of the water as a hidden gem I fell in love with). But... I feel like I'm watching New Wish more to avoid the risk of someone spoiling it for me (and because I want to see allusions to past episodes) than because I'm truly captivated by it, which is a shame.

I love it as a reboot, but I don't think I'd watch it as some standalone show that just dropped. And that's probably fine, because it's not trying to be a standalone- it's trying to be a nostalgic reboot with a fresher take, and that's totally okay.

- But consider... Send the toddlers back to Lightning Walrus Hell while Foop begs to be spared and frantically tries to claw his way out of the vortex after Poof's been vaporized, then rewrite time so they never existed. THOSE were stakes, and THAT was the messed-up stuff I love. lol. - (Do not actually do this- new things are good and if Poof and Foop had to relieve their own childhood trauma regarding the Hocus Poconos, I would die. Also, that was the Season 8 finale and New Wish is only in its first season with chill episodes, so it would be wild to expect that much drama straight out of the gates. Also, it takes time to establish things before we can have that kind of drama. I'm willing to be patient.)

I will say, I do think we're matching some early-series vibes. We had episodes in the early days where Timmy bonded with his friends, and I really like that Hazel's taking her time to meet new friends (something we didn't get to see with him until Mark Chang's Season 2, 3, and 4 appearances). I think that's going 100% fine. I like what I like, but I'm getting increasingly anxious about the things I miss.

I do feel nostalgic for Remy. I miss Juandissimo and Mama Cosma and Vicky and Mark. Nothing wrong with not pushing them in if Cosmo and Wanda have moved past that life drama, but I still want someone or something to cause tension. Shake things up.

-> They don't have to appear personally, but I miss The Vibes.

I will say, I love that Hazel hasn't had a love plot yet. We have no clingy fans like Tootie (or that newspaper girl from "Fairly Odder"), and Hazel's not in love with someone who hates her. I won't be mad if we get a romance plot, but I hope it's something fresh (and not one person pining after the other despite being told that person's not into them, which I find uncomfortable especially in a kids' show if said show plays it as cute or "kids will be kids" without going into how frustrating it is to be the person who wants to set boundaries).

-> Please let me live vicariously through a main character who's not dealing with "Just give them a chance!! :) They really like you! They may seem creepy, but they're probably nice!" vibes.

It's also really nice that no one's immediately attracted to the new kid when she's only been here a few weeks or months. It's nice that she's building friendships. If a relationship blossoms over time, that's fine, but I'm glad no one is currently in love with her and pining for dates (as in, straight out of the gates).

-> I genuinely cannot figure out who they're setting Dev up to be, so if he's a future love interest, I hope he does some serious work on himself. He's got issues and he's mean, and Hazel also seems to think he's mean, so based on my current understanding of his character vibes, it'd be weird if she conveniently forgot how mean he is and developed a crush on him. I need to see more facets of him.

But it's very funny that he follows people and tries to make bigger and better things. That's exactly what a bratty 10-year-old Dimmadome would do. And honestly... I think I can see him developing a crush on her over time. Like... I genuinely do think that would make sense for his character based on what little I know about him right now.

I think Dev is super jealous of how Hazel just arrived and is gathering friends- which I really like, because we're seeing how it takes Hazel some time to make each new friend, and Dev has the same amount of time and opportunity, and is choosing to be a jerk.

It really showcases this idea that Hazel is making an effort to learn to be nice (and even needs to learn not to try changing people to be what her brother was to her). She's working hard on herself and she's trying to make friends. She didn't show up and have people fawn over her immediately. She's here, she's nice, and she's working to understand friendship and boundaries.

And Dev, who is used to things coming easy to him or just buying what he wants, HATES that.

I think jealousy is fueling Dev right now, but Hazel IS a nice person. I can totally envision him growing more fond of her someday and letting down walls. I can tell he's important to the writers, but I'm wary he's being set up as a future love interest and I don't currently know anything about him that would justify Hazel being attracted to him because all I've seen so far is him being grumpy and her glaring at him.

-> Also, I'm getting the feeling that Dev doesn't have a healthy understanding of relationships, family life, or boundaries, and I would be afraid for Hazel.

I think I forgot to say it, but everyone's phones had a D logo implying they're a Dimmadome product, which I like.

I feel like Dev needs some healthy relationship modeling from Cosmo and Wanda (or Hazel's parents). I'll be curious to see if we go in that direction.

Where are we in the timeline?

I love that this is a show about Hazel. I'm really enjoying this- I think I'm glad we're not getting a "children of the main cast" cliche (and we didn't get a total reboot where we redo Timmy's childhood and pretend the OG series didn't happen). This is very funny for me.

Since Dale was older than Timmy, I'm getting the vibe that we're a few years before Tommy and Tammy get their godparents. So... are they gonna show up, or is Timmy gonna be single with no kids if he ever appears, which I'm betting he will eventually. Or do I have my timeline wrong?

"Channel Chasers" future is canon in my Cloudlands AU, and this is generally the accepted future for the series. Keep in mind that's the angle I'm talking from here.

Assuming CC is canon, it's confirmed Timmy has his kids really young (20 years after he buries the time capsule at age 10, his kids dig it up and they seem to be close to his age, so somewhere between, like... 7 and 10), so Timmy would've been 20 to 23.

It's not unreasonable for Dale to have his kids at a much older age, so I will totally accept Hazel being either older or younger than Tammy and Tommy; it doesn't matter to me (although if they're retconned out of existence by having Timmy show up as a childless man combined with clearer timeframe confirmation, I'll be surprised).

I also want to be clear upfront that my canon for Timmy's future in Cloudlands AU is that he has his kids with Molly ("Wishing Well"). They later split, leaving him open to marry either Trixie or Timmy (but it's ambiguous in my 'fics so the reader can decide). That way, I get to enjoy Molly, Tommy and Tammy get to be in a rough patch when Cosmo and Wanda show up, Timmy's struggling emotionally but he's not a terrible dad long-term, and fans of Trixie or Tootie can have the endgame because I don't mind. tl;dr - Timmy has been shipped with Tootie in some other spin-off media, like the "Fairly Odd Summer" trilogy. I don't treat that trilogy as canon in my 'fics, but we know from "Channel Chasers" that it's implied Timmy has Tommy with a black-haired person or Tommy's adopted, and the latter seems unlikely since both kids look so much like him. So if New Wish has Timmy show up and heavily implies he's with either Trixie or Tootie, that's totally fine within Cloudlands AU canon. But he does flirt with Molly in my 'fics and they are so cute and making her Kevin's step-sister was one of the best ideas I've ever had because it makes family vacations fantastic, so get wrecked <3

But I feel like they're really baiting us with Timmy stuff (Showing several adults that look like Timmy, but confirming behind the scenes "That's not Timmy," putting him on posters, using him as a school mascot, etc.) It's very in-character for this universe since even in the OG series, Timmy's likeness was sometimes used by other characters, but... I'm a little nervous.

Cosmo and Wanda didn't seem to look back on their time with Timmy as fondly as I would've expected. I'm glad we're getting a fun cartoon with a new person, but I hope we're not going a "nudge, nudge, Timmy was a horrible person and fans are dumb for looking at him fondly or wanting him around" angle.

-> That kid was 10, working through childhood trauma, and struggled a lot in life. That's literally the point, and expecting him to be as well-adjusted as Hazel would be asking a lot of him- Their backstories and home lives are very, very different.

I'm getting the sense that we're making allusions to the old show (even obscure ones that surprised me, like a Flappy Bob cameo, super specific Fairy interior design details, or "Terrible Twosome" throwback). The writers have done a good job of picking out the parts they liked and using them as their canon, but I get the feeling we're not going to have references to Sparky, Chloe, Roy, or Viv.

Which is fine, because I understand they were late in the series and a lot of people didn't receive them well (Me included). I just hope they're not treated like they're dumb or something to be erased from history, y'know?

I have absolutely no issues with them not showing up. I do expect a Timmy cameo someday, but it would not bother me at all if we didn't see Chloe. But like, I don't want them written out of the canon IF we specifically look back at the canon. If for some reason we recapped every godkid Timmy had interacted with and we were mysteriously missing Chloe, I'd give you a really weird look, slkfdj.

-> If our canon is that Roy and Viv didn't happen, I'm fine with that because it's a spin-off. But Chloe was mainline canon and this show has already made clear it's grabbing canon from across the whole series (including seasons as late as 9) and not just focusing on the early seasons, so... I'll just have some questions if we write her out of existence, lol.

New personalities? Anti-Fairies?

Where I'm at in my binge, there have been no Anti-Fairies. I'm expecting them to show up because it seems likely we'd get a Friday the 13th episode. I feel like the Anti-Fairies have regularly been the most popular characters of the series in the fandom and they played a big role in later seasons, so I'm sure that writers who have done so much research that they've found details I consider obscure to the average viewer are gonna give us Anti-Fairies. I can't imagine they wouldn't.

And I'm NERVOUS, lol.

So, one thing that I've always thought is that Anti-Fairies were planned to be one-off characters. After their Season 2 debut, they don't appear until Season 5. My personal thought is that Anti-Wanda got slapped with a "cheap and easy" personality without a lot of thought behind it; compare her recolored design with Anti-Cosmo's fully detailed fleshed-out design. I'm super curious to see if she'll get rebooted to be a better parallel of Wanda.

I've played her in my 'fics as being grubby to parallel Wanda's mob upbringing. I still write her with what from the outside may seem like lower intelligence, though in my 'fics I specifically have her being raised in an Anti-Fairy zoo enclosure until her young adulthood, and grew up fluent in her people's native language. It's not that she's stupid, really... She just grew up with limited contact with the outside world, so converting her thoughts for a bustling society is a struggle. I try not to make her a statement of intelligence, though she can be self-deprecating when she compares herself to others.

Like, I can literally see this going either way. I would be totally in favor of giving Anti-Wanda a reboot, because I love her very dearly and tbh I kind of prefer her over Anti-Cosmo... but I will always support taking a second look at the "idiot Southerner with a drawl" stereotype. If she gets freshened up so she's not played as so dumb, or still dumb but less Southern, I'd be fine with that. It's... not a great trope.

Nerd alert incoming - Yes, it's mostly me rambling about how much I love the Pixies & Gary and Betty because I want my feelings written down before any chance of them showing up.

-> Once upon a time, I would not have dreamed my faves might show up, but now that we've gotten a Flappy Bob cameo, I have to prepare for anything.

Okay... so. It's Anti-Cosmo whose potential reboot personality concerns me most, and for purely selfish reasons 😂. In my personal opinion, fanon Anti-Cosmo is surprisingly different from canon Anti-Cosmo. I'm pretty sure they're going to reboot him as a sexy evil villain, because that's what the majority of people think he is. Even though he's a total dork and rebooting him as a suave, confident smooth-talker feels incorrect to me.

Riddle's unpopular opinion: The personality I've seen many people portray Anti-Cosmo with in fan content feels closer to the personality the Head Pixie has than it feels to Anti-Cosmo. If H.P. were younger with the exact same personality he has in the OG show, people would give him the "sexy bad boy" treatment they give Anti-Cosmo. They just don't because he's old </3

Yes, H.P. is ALSO a goofball. He likes cosplay, breakdancing, and he's often either at a rave or bemoaning that he's not at a rave. He only has a few episodes and his love for raves and clubbing comes up in at least 3 of them. But he's the one doing the classic "evil villain" stuff like signing contracts, pulling puppet strings, torturing people with shock collars, and finding loopholes.

H.P. sets up long-term plans. He's calculating, meticulous, and he's one of the sassiest and most confident characters in the entire series. Happy Peppy Gary and Betty literally have a direct phone line to Sanderson, presumably under H.P.'s influence since he's the boss.

Like, that is explicitly canon and it's my favorite background detail in the show. The Pixies thought ahead and gave them a phone. Gary and Betty were in on the plan and knew about magic. At bare minimum they knew they were working for people called Pixies.

Sidebar: Even in their episodes before the Musical, it's implied Gary and Betty know more about magic than the average human. They had laser-eyed unicorn mobiles that formed cages. They somehow got from Florida (implied by Gary's use of the word "gator" and confirmed by this episode's script) to California (Dimmsdale's confirmed state) before end of workday, implying they returned through non-human means. -> Also in their debut episode, they literally went to outer space with Mark, were chill about it, and offered him snacks; idk what to tell you. They're my everything. H.P. seems to have meticulously set up a lot of things and it's so funny to me. -> Also this is very non-canon in the finalized series, but in the OG script of the Musical, it's implied Gary and Betty took the Pixies hostage, and also they seem to be friends with Imaginary Gary. They're heavily implied to sing his villain song with him (where he blatantly reveals he's Imaginary Gary), and it's HILARIOUS. Can you even imagine? He was their boss in that version of the script. I can't deal. That's so funny; he's like 5. Was he even paying them or did they just think he was fun? I just need all the lovely new followers I've gained since I started posting about New Wish to understand how not normal I am about the Learnatorium crew. If you've ever wondered why I write about them so much... I just think they're neat! <3 -> Btw for anyone wondering, you can find some early-season scripts on Fred Seigbert's Scribd. It's painfully difficult to navigate, so I suggest Scribd's search bar instead of his profile. For easier reading, I keep screenshots of the things I find most interesting on my blog, tagged #original script. I figure if you've read this far, you might be into quirky FOP lore, so run... be free. I think I've read them all, so all the funny moments are on my blog. There are some lovely gems in there... There's a deleted scene from "Totally Spaced Out" where Gary and Betty tried to ditch their jobs and flee to Mexico, a deleted scene of Mark and Vicky lovingly holding hands in the nursing home while he's in squid form, and a deleted scene from "Oddlympics" of Jorgen, Anti-Cosmo, and H.P. dressing up as cowboys and in dresses. Juandissimo has early lore about his fear of Cosmo. There's a storyboard for "Anti-Poof" in there somewhere.

Anyway, the point is, I enjoy H.P. a lot. Listen, I've been a huge fan of this guy for 8 years; I love him to death. He's very sassy. He purposely messes with Jorgen's head and Jorgen loses his temper over it. He jumps through hoops to do things right, he wields loopholes to do things wrong, and he tortures people because, in his own words, "It's hilarious."

-> In my mind, HE is the manipulative schemer that Anti-Cosmo often gets remembered as. Where's my sexy bad boy H.P. fanart? Surely it was someone's job to show me that /jk

And there is nothing wrong with portraying A.C. as a sexy bad boy. They can both be sexy bad boys. I'm explaining how I read him in my incredibly specific take, but others might not read him this way. A.C. does a good job of pretending to be a sexy bad boy, but I personally enjoy when he's also portrayed as a dork and I want to talk about that because it's my post.

So, honestly... I think Anti-Cosmo is scared of Jorgen. He never challenges people directly, instead using disguises or hiding behind social events like the "Oddlympics." He lets H.P. take charge in his own castle. He can barely discipline his own son (and when he does, Foop ignores him). A.C. throws temper tantrums on the ground, kicking and shrieking and breaking stuff when things don't go his way. And I LOVE him for it.

But he's not a suave bad boy in my mind, lol. I mean, he tries, and sometimes he pulls it off, but he's definitely not sweet or charming. He's a tantrum-throwing baby who yells at his wife <3 and only holds her hand during "When Nerds Collide" if you pause in time to catch it.

You know how I said Jorgen is a twist on expectations? Anti-Cosmo's whole thing is that people think he's cool and smart, but it's a façade. In his debut episode, Timmy outsmarted him very easily. It doesn't surprise me at all that Anti-Cosmo took a step back in later seasons and Foop became our main Anti-Fairy. Because it's totally in-character for Foop to go looking for trouble, and it's totally in-character for A.C. to... not do that.

A.C. is an introvert who needs a reason to leave the house. Foop likes running around, causing trouble. It's great. You can see so much of Anti-Wanda in Foop and it's funny to me.

I like how A.C. sometimes wanders off and forgets what he's doing. I mean, that's how Timmy defeated him in "When Nerds Collide"- His friends coaxed him into meandering off on his own. He charges headfirst into things despite consequences. He throws things, including his wand. He runs away from confrontation. He jumps on tables. He makes paper airplanes. His wife mocks him for having dorky X-ray goggles he bought from the back of a comic book. He's a goofball.

Again, they are both goofballs- A.C. and H.P. Every villain is a goofball: Norm spends his time out of his lamp eating ice cream and getting his dry cleaning handled, H.P. likes to party, A.C. can't sit still, Sanderson prioritizes music above villainy, Crocker is more silly than spooky, Foop is a baby who needs naps and playtime, and Kevin ping-pongs between self-deprecation and giddy overconfidence.

Anti-Cosmo does come across as a bad boy sometimes. I'll be very surprised if we don't see Anti-Cosmo's return since he's a popular character and I think people are into his British bad boy vibe, but like...

Since it's my speculation post, I just really need to say that if they change his personality so he's now super charming and sassy with no signs of the temper, dorkiness, or cowardice that's always lurked in him, I'll be sad... because I like my tantrum-throwing baby who shakes his wife up and down when he's stressed. And this man was not the sharpest tack when it came to sass, sdfklj.

I totally suspect New Wish will reboot him as a total sexy, suave villain because honestly, that's probably the way he's remembered. Which is okay, but if he does return, I will miss my silly comics-loving geek who can't stand up to a newborn, writes notes with brightly colored pens he changes every sentence, and jumps on tables during fancy dinners. He's so goofy. I hate him (/affectionate).

-> And if we bring back Anti-Fairies, but throw the Pixies aside because "Eh, they're boring," it will be a crying shame. I will accept it, but you will find me standing with a confused look on my face as I swing my hands to gesture between Anti-Cosmo and H.P.

-> There's nothing wrong with bringing back A.C. and not H.P.! The Anti-Fairies are beloved and stick in people's memories well, I'm sure. But also, H.P. is my favorite in the whole series. He's incredibly sassy, manipulative, meticulous, and hilarious.

Where else can I find an old man who drops the line "The only thing you'll be eating is my dust!" before jumping on a scooter and blasting off with a shout of "Later, dude!" Or the old man who gets distracted because he'd rather be at a rave. Or elbows Timmy in the side with a smug smile and asks if his pizza tasted better than "Jorgen's slice of pure rabbit droppings."

This is the man who danced and sang "Go me, go me, it's my birthday." It's heavily implied the main reason he's a villain is because he's too obsessive compulsive to watch the world fall apart around him. That's hilarious. He literally took over the world and the first thing he did was go home and get drunk. He's a fantastic character and I should say it.

-> I'm not gonna be mad if we get an Anti-Cosmo reboot and kick the Pixies into the sun. I'll just be /pensive emoji about it. Also, I rambled about this mainly because I've gained a surprising amount of new followers recently, and if you're new here... I just think you deserve a warning about what you're getting into with my blog. I love him so much.

In conclusion... IF we get the Pixies and H.P.'s been reduced to a dull and boring stereotype who lost his snark and love for parties, I'll be devastated and I'd rather have them not show up :')

... Also if H.P. is dead and Sanderson is now in charge because it's "the future," my head will be in my hands. If that happens, you can unfollow me right then because it's all I'll talk about /lh. I want my super sassy bossman, please and thank you.

I would miss the old H.P., but I would also be grateful for any Pixie scraps I'm given because they're my favorites. I cannot believe we got a Flappy Bob cameo in New Wish. Definitely not on my bingo board.

Well... There we go! My thoughts so far. I'm looking forward to seeing where the show goes, and I hope we get to see more of the things I want. These are very early thoughts!

Again, please don't spoil anything since I'm only up to "Trial or Hair-or," and please no grumpiness in my replies or inbox.

These are personal liveblog opinions from a long-time fan who's been avoiding spoilers since New Wish was hinted over a year ago. My opinions may change later if the show goes a new direction. I AM enjoying the show, but I also wanted to share what I like about the OG and what I'd like to see in New Wish's future.

Thanks!

[aristocratic-otter]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers (except me because obvs I have done it). Spread the self-love ❤

Thank you, @artsyunderstudy, @skee3000, and @roomwithanopenfire for the ask.

  Hmmm, Ok. I guess I’ll choose based on which of my own fics I actually reread the most. That means my favorites are: 

A Real Doll

My first explicit fic, written for the Monster Under the Bed fest, this was where I really started to feel like I could be up there writing with the fanfic gods I’d looked up to. @captain-aralias liked it, that was an achievement! This was actually very very loosely based on a CSI fanfic I read forever ago (really, the only similarity was a lifelike sex doll), but in it Baz decides to try to wank his feelings for Simon away in a much more involved fashion by basically fucking a sex doll he makes that looks like Simon. But then Simon walks in on this happening and, well...you’ll have to read it to find out. 

A Fucked-Up Cinderella Story

This was my first EGF fic, and, more importantly, my first collaboration. Working with @frjsti was eye-opening in so many ways. I found out how wonderful it can be when a writer and artist work together, and how much greater the result is than either could accomplish alone. 

Plus, I’m still amused by the titular joke. 

In this fic, Baz was kept home by Malcolm after the vampire attack, for fear both of what other mages might do to him, and out of worry that Baz himself wouldn’t be able to control his vampire urges. 

In a misguided attempt to convince Baz that he can like women, Malcolm offers to hire him a male escort, with the twisted idea that if Baz doesn’t like having sex with a male, he might swing back to females. 

Enter Simon, who’s offered a shit-ton of money by a very discreet agency to provide one night of unimaginable pleasure to a mysterious client...

Careful What You Wish For

Another collaboration with an artist, this time for my first COBB, I worked with the imitable @ivelovedhimthroughworse (Apricot). Apricot was a fun and generous partner, and this being a collaboration is one reason it’s a favorite. 

The other reasons have to do with me being a massive science nerd and getting to nerd out about multiple universe theories, and with this being my first fully original plotty work (previous ones either weren’t plotty, or were based on existing movies/stories/history).

In Careful, Simon, in a fit of rage, accidentally wishes that Baz had never been born. This catapults him into a universe that never had a Baz Pitch and Simon has to learn how much he actually cares about Baz (and don’t worry, Baz himself enters the story before too long).

Gates of Ivory and Horn

This was a gift fic for @prettylightsbigcity, and what I like so much about it is how it gave me a chance to play with mythology, with the boundary between life and death, and with the ripple effects of one choice on future timelines. Plus, some very hot scenes and plenty of angst, it’s exactly the type of fic I choose to read when others write it. 

When the Oneiroi, Greek gods of dreams in the form of ravens, attack Watford, Simon is one of the first to fall. He’s trapped in a dream where he’s offered the choice of two gates. The catch is, one gate shows only truth, one shows only falsehoods. If he chooses the wrong gate, he’ll be trapped in the dream forever. 

But how could a future where he ends up with Baz be the true one?

For the last, I’m torn between three or four other fics, but I think I’ll go with The Naked Next.  It was a gift fic for @raenestee, and one of several fics set in the same universe.  I’m choosing this because it gave me a chance to be fun and silly, but also nerd out on some of my favorite science topics. And it let me write SnowBaz into one of my favorite (silly) Star Trek episodes. And most off all, I got to work with a lovely bunch of people, including @facewithoutheart, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @cutestkilla, @mostlymaudlin, @thewholelemon, and @artsyunderstudy (and others who may yet be revealed. The expansiveness of the universe we’ve built together is endlessly thrilling for me, and I’m grateful to @facewithoutheart for inviting me to be involved. 

In this story, Simon is the Bajoran rebel turned Starfleet security chief on the Redemption. Baz is his half-Cardassian former roommate/ nemesis and constant obsession. When the Redemption answers a distress call to a vessel where people are acting like the whole world is a party, some of the away team unfortunately bring a contagion back to the Redemption with them. 

In the timeless words of Porky Pig, Th-th-th-that’s all, folks!

[your-unfriendlyghost]

4, 5, 7, 14

(Okay I really liked these ones fyi)

4. Rank the main 7.

  Ooh tough one. I guess right now, in order of favorite to least favorite, I’d have to go Sodapop, Two-Bit, Steve, Johnny, Ponyboy, Dally, and then finally Darry. But it’s pretty close, and the order changes day by day honestly- I like all of them a lot, y’know? I guess the only one I don’t think about too often is Darry. I still like him and think he’s a really well-written character- I just don’t have a lotta original thoughts about him, is all, whereas I do about all the others. 

5. What are your fave ships?

  In a truly shocking turn of events, I, a frequent draw-er and writer of Stevepop, am going to say Stevepop. I dunno, something about them just makes me happy. Reminds me of like…daydreams I had when I was twelve and crushing on my best friend, and trying to get her attention by doing stupid things and whatever…god I don’t really know how to explain why I like it. Before this fandom I didn’t usually ship things, to be honest. But I guess when I did it’d be stuff like Jesslake in Infinity Train, where it’s the sorta thing that can be seen as platonic or romantic. I reckon Stevepop scratches a similar itch in my brain lol

  But I also really like Marcia x Two-Bit, which I haven’t really talked about here much- They had good chemistry, y’know? I oughta draw something about them sometime

  And then finally there’s my DIY crack-ish ship Soda x Steve x Evie. I like them! It’s all the things I like about Stevepop, plus there’s a cool girl in the mix! I love cool girls! More folks should think about them i think

  I do like other ships okay too- like the Tarry crowd has dragged me in, and sometimes the Jally crowd does too, along with Purly and occasionally Johnnyboy. I’m not an active participant, but when I come across it, I sorta mentally nod and say “nice”, you dig? They’re like…my ship-in-laws. Or like…milk duds and hershey bars- candy I still enjoy, but reach for only after I’m out of milky ways and twizzlers.

7. What are your fave non-romantic relationships? (This can be close friends, familial, enemies or even just acquaintances)

  Two-Bit and Pony! I like them a lot. Their interactions in the book were some of my favorite parts. That line when Two-Bit was worried about Ponyboy using that broken bottle on the Socs…ugh that part was great. I remember reading it for the first time and just sitting there thinking about how much I liked that detail.

  Then on the opposite side of the coin, Steve and Pony lol. I LOVE how Pony doesn’t initially like Dally or Steve, and yet Dally’s chill with Pony…but with Steve the disdain is mutual. Jk I don’t think Steve really hates Pony- but he definitely thinks Pony’s kinda annoying. I like the idea of him watching out for Pony anyways though, like at school especially now that Soda’s not going.

14. Tell us five of your headcanons you basically see as canon

Sodapop has ADHD and maybe (?) dyslexia, but it’s the 60s so he won’t find out till he’s well into adulthood

Marcia gave Two-Bit her real number, and was disappointed when he didn’t call it. I like to imagine they end up remeeting at some point and going out together- even if that’s kinda unrealistic lol

Steve hated Dally when he first rolled into town, because Dally was everything he really wanted to be- tough, cool, and street-smart. And he was also scared of losing Soda, who thought Dally rocked- because Dally’s from New York and rides in rodeos! Eventually they became buddies though when Dally gave Steve a compliment or something. Not even a particularly good one- something like “Hey you ain’t bad at fighting”- just barely enough for Steve to feel like Dally’s earned a little bit of his loyalty. Might write fic/make a comic for this- it’s kinda niche but I think the idea is funny

Steve and Soda secretly listen to the Beach Boys at the DX. They can’t tell anyone because it’s not tuff to like a dumb California band. And Ponyboy would like the Beatles if he listened to them, but he doesn’t, so he won’t realize that until years after Beatlemania has died down

Steve is not just a Ponyboy hater but also a horses-in-general hater. He thinks horses are scary and unpredictable and that cars were invented for a reason. He was secretly relieved when Mr. Curtis stopped Soda from riding rodeos, because seeing Soda on a crazy horse gave him mad anxiety. Pretended he was sad though for Soda’s sake

Thanks so much for asking!! I loved answering these so much lol, definitely let me know your thoughts too on ‘em!