#i literally have no idea what I’m talking about

[unholyglitch404]

I didn’t even realize people did that 😭😭

I could’ve sworn the point of writing was to.. y’know.. write? It’s an annoyance, it’s a struggle.. but that’s what makes it so rewarding. You aren’t doing justice to your plot, your ideas, your characters, your audience, or yourself, that way. There isn’t even a genuine point to it! Like.. you can’t really monetize fanfiction, and it’s a form of “hobby/passion-driven” writing. By having an AI do it you’re dampening the effect or emotions of your story, taking away whatever life it had, and literally defeating the point of passionate writing.

But also.. AI is horrible with writing? Like… in order to effectively convey a story, whether it has a theme or not, you need an understanding of nuance, “why’s”, and creativity… which AI doesn’t have.

Nuance is in every aspect of storytelling and existing. Humans don’t feel in binaries or act in binaries: they can experience multiple emotions at once or contradictory emotions; they can cry when happy and laugh when sad; or actively want to continue a sad experience like a tragic movie or dying relationship. Hell, humans sometimes go out of their way to partake in ‘bad’ experiences: watching mockbusters or reading something that they just don’t fucking like. Characters need conflicting interests and opinions to make the story feel natural and cause the plot to happen, and this often results in a need for nuance: a character, and even the antagonist, can oppose the protagonist without having bad intentions. Take a parent doing what they think is best for their child.. but said parent’s idea of what’s “healthy” and “good for their child” is highly skewed and stuck in traditional values, bigotry, misinformation, or fear. The reason I mention this is because AI, fundamentally, functions in binary. It cannot do nuance because it cannot properly comprehend it. How AI achieves ‘nuance’ is by flip-flopping back and forth, with the antagonist acting completely evil one minute, but then crying and comforting the protagonist the next. This isn’t even mentioning grey morality, or complex opinions about heavy topics like murder, abortion, etc.. Very very few people have “binary” opinions (full yes or full no) on these topics.. and if they do, they’re either lying to themselves, in an echo chamber, haven’t thought of potential issues, or are literal children. AI just can’t really replicate that. There’s nuance in behaviors, thoughts, emotions, actions, and existence, itself.

Similarly, let’s look at creativity for a moment. I don’t mean it in an artistic way.. I’m talking basic things like using objects for unintended purposes. Just a few days ago, I needed a ruler or something to draw a straight-ish line. I ended up using a random arcade card I had lying around, because its edge was straight enough. The reason I mention this is that.. AI algorithmically determines things. This means that, if a character needs a ruler and they don’t have one on hand.. literally none of the characters are going to attempt to use anything else, unless you prompt them to. If you need a doorstop, but don’t have one, you’re likely to use a random object for that purpose.. an AI is going to keep looking for a doorstop. This just makes things unnatural and breaks immersion.

Finally, we need reasons. AI doesn’t do things with a purpose or goal, it just provides an algorithmically selected string of letters that it deems satisfactory enough to the prompt. This means that there isn’t meaning, or purpose, or whatever, to the work. No characters have genuine motivations — they just do things to do things. There’s no symbolism, there’s no playing with carefully selected connotations or messing with how the story feels, there’s no further purpose, there’s no character development, there’s no intentions.. it’s just empty.

AI is literally the antithesis of “passion-fueled writing”, such as fanfiction.. and just sucks at writing, to begin with. This isn’t even talking about morals, where the AI’s dataset comes from, etcetera. If you don’t want to sit there writing a story.. then don’t write a fucking fanfic. Why are you making a fanfic? Just read some, for fucks sake!

no way ppl are using ai to write ao3. what happened to being a tortured writer. what happened to blood on the page. what happened to the ao3 curse. people used to get run over, have their houses burned down, break their entire spines and they still put in the work to finish a chapter. fuck you, using ai. y’all are weak

[lanf1an]

DREAMS lando norris pt.1 When your childhood bestfriend Flo had convinced you to get the fashion design job at her brother's company Quadrant, it finally paid off when Louis Vuitton was announced as the new sponsor for F1.

pt.2 wordcount: 1378

Flo's voice filled the room as she scrolled through her phone, her excitement palpable.

"I'm telling you, this is perfect for you," Flo said, thrusting her phone in your direction.

You squinted at the screen, trying to make sense of the email she was showing you. "A job at Quadrant? Flo, I’m studying fashion design, not... whatever that is."

Flo looked up, her brows furrowed as if you’d just said something ridiculous. "What do you mean? It can be. Look at Tommy Hilfiger. Or Lewis Hamilton—his fashion work, hosting the Met Gala, working with big brands. F1’s bigger than you think, and it’s not just about cars."

"Haha, Flo, what are you talking about?" you said, shaking your head at the idea. "F1 is not really the place I want to be for my fashion stuff."

You paused, realizing you hadn’t really thought about it like that before. You’d never paid much attention to Formula 1, aside from the occasional updates Flo gave you about Lando. It had been years since you'd spent any real time with him. As kids, you'd catch fleeting glimpses of each other whenever he wasn’t off karting or, later, racing. But you knew Lewis Hamilton. He had enormous influence. He’d collaborated with brands you admired and pushed boundaries in the fashion world.

"Maybe not," Flo said, leaning forward with a knowing grin. "But there could be great opportunities"

"And trust me, Quadrant desperately needs someone like you. You’ve seen their merch, right? It’s..." She continued.

"Basic?" you offered, arching an eyebrow, Flo had already showed you the designs before in an attempt for you to improve them.

"Exactly! They’re looking for someone to revamp their designs. You’re always talking about how things could be better.''

You sipped your coffee, considering her words. It wasn’t your dream job, but the thought of improving a brand and the opportunities that came with it was oddly tempting.

"Fine," you said, setting your mug down. "I’ll think about it."

Flo grinned like she'd won the lottery. "You’ll kill it. Trust me."

-

The buzz around Quadrant’s new merch started slowly but picked up pace when a few photos of Lando wearing your designs at the paddock made their way online. Suddenly, it wasn’t just fans buying hoodies and tees, people in the fashion and sports world were taking notice, and journalists started to make comparisons you weren’t sure anyone expected.

“Is Lando Norris the next Lewis Hamilton?” one article headline read.

Another went deeper: “From driver to brand icon: How Lando Norris and Quadrant are reshaping athlete influence.”

It had been surreal to watch the shift, you had worked hard. Max had been supportive from the start, seeing the vision. Keegan had actually become a reliable creative partner, having similar styles and taste. Lando had been the same as when you were kids, you had barely seen him, too busy racing, handling his CEO duties from afar.

And now, after months of hard work, it was all leading to something bigger.

-

The first time at the paddock was overwhelming. The heat, the constant movement, the blur of media, mechanics, and drivers navigating their way through the chaos—it was a world you still didn’t quite belong to. Even though it did bid a uncanny resemblance to the chaos of the fashion world, which intrigued you.

You watched as the photographers snapped pictures of Lando and the team in their latest Quadrant pieces. The collection had taken months to finalize, and the response had been overwhelming—more press than usual, more attention, more recognition.

“You’re the one behind all this, aren’t you?”

You turned at the voice, surprised to find yourself face to face with Lewis Hamilton. He was dressed effortlessly, a silk LV shirt under an unbuttoned suit vest, sunglasses perched on his nose.

You blinked. “I—uh. Sorry?”

Lewis smiled knowingly. “The Quadrant collection. It’s you.”

You hesitated. “I mean… it’s a team effort.”

“Sure,” he said, his grin widening. “But I know talent when I see it.”

Her stomach flipped. Compliments were one thing, but this—coming from him—felt different.

“I’ve been following your work,” Lewis continued, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You’ve got a fresh perspective. Louis Vuitton is partnering with F1. They want to bring in new talent, I tipped you.” Your breath caught. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

You stared at him, waiting for the catch, but there wasn’t one. He was just… offering this. Just like that.

“I—” You glanced over at the Quadrant shoot, where Lando was laughing with the guys, completely unaware of the conversation happening across the paddock. “Thank you so much.”

Lewis smiled. “You’ll be hearing from them soon. Excited to work together.”

And with that, he was gone, disappearing into the paddock like he hadn’t just cracked your entire world open in a two-minute conversation. Flo had turned to be right after all.

-

Louis Vuitton had officially announced their F1 partnership, and with it, their campaign featuring a select group of drivers. The second she saw Lando’s name on the list, you knew there was no avoiding it. You hadn’t expected it, even though it made sense after Quadrant’s succes and having already worked together. Still, you hadn’t expected to be working with him again, especially not like this. He hadn't shown too much emotion when you left Quadrant, but you knew he wasn't happy about it.

Now, standing in the Louis Vuitton studio, flipping through the fitting schedule, you could feel his glare when the door opened before looking up.

"From Quadrant to Louis V," Lando mused, his voice light but edged with something unreadable. "Look at us."

You finally glanced up. He walked around inspecting the room, sunglasses perched on his head, fingers brushing against the fabric of a tailored jacket. His expression was casual, like he wasn’t really thinking about what he’d just said. Like it was just an observation.

You gave a small shrug. "Who would've thought."

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he turned toward the fitting area. "Thought you could get rid of me, huh?"

“Alright, first look,” you said, flipping through your notes without looking up.

Lando sighed dramatically. “Do I really need to try all of these on?”

You shot him a look. “Unless you suddenly developed a sense of style overnight, yes.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, grabbing the set from the rack.

You turned you back as he changed, focusing on adjusting the pins on one of the outfits. It wasn’t the first time you’d been in a fitting with Lando, but this was different. The Louis Vuitton studio was quieter than Quadrant HQ, the lighting softer, there was no Max, no Keegan, no distractions.

“Okay,” Lando said, stepping forward. “What do you think?”

You turned—and fuck.

The suit fit him unfairly well. The sharp tailoring, the way the fabric moved with him—it was annoyingly perfect. Which meant you had done a great job.

You forced yourself to be professional, stepping closer to fix his collar. “Hold still.”

Lando stayed quiet as you smoothed the lapels, fingers brushing against his chest. The silence felt thick, aware of how close you were.

“Looks good,” you said, voice even. “But the pants need adjusting.”

You knelt down, reaching for the hem.

You could feel his eyes on you as you adjusted the fabric, fingers skimming his ankle, making sure the length was right. You refused to look up, but you could hear him breathe in, then exhale slowly.

“Comfortable down there?” he asked, voice casual, but you could hear his smirk.

You rolled your eyes, unable for him to see. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Lando huffed out a laugh, but when you did glance up—just for a second—his jaw was tight. Like he was the one struggling.

You stood, smoothing out the jacket. “Alright,” you said, stepping back, regaining distance. “I think we’re done here.”

Lando tilted his head. “You sure? Thought you liked bossing me around now.”

You smirked. “If I really wanted to boss you around, Lando, you’d know it.”

He blinked, caught off guard for just a second.

Then he grinned. “Noted.”

WN: new storyyyy wooooop, literally already had this fashion job at quadrant in my drafts and then the LV partnership was announced i had to implement that and post it

[jiminomenon]

assistant! reader going viral and capturing the attention of model! karina’s fans

pairing: model! karina x assistant! female reader

word count: 843

summary: when karina posts a mirror selfie, y/n unintentionally steals the spotlight, sparking a viral reaction. as fans focus on her assistant, karina struggles with unexpected feelings of possessiveness and jealousy.

from my series: the devil wears prada

it all started with a selfie.

jimin had been in one of her moods, insisting on taking the perfect photo for her instagram. “y/n, set up my phone,” she said, handing over the device. “i want a mirror selfie, and make sure you get my good side.”

y/n, who had long since mastered the art of dealing with jimin’s diva moments, sighed but obediently propped the phone up on a nearby shelf, angling it toward the full-length mirror in jimin’s dressing room. “your good side is literally every side, jimin. just smile already.”

jimin pouted but struck a pose, her perfectly styled hair catching the sunlight. as the timer counted down, y/n stepped into the frame to adjust the angle, her unimpressed expression clearly visible in the mirror behind jimin.

“let me see,” jimin said, grabbing the phone. she frowned at the photo. “ugh, you ruined it! delete it and take another one.”

y/n rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. she assumed that was the end of it—until the next morning, when she woke up to a flood of notifications on her phone.

“what the…?” y/n muttered, scrolling through her social media. her inbox was full of messages, and her follower count had skyrocketed overnight.

“good morning, sleeping beauty,” jimin said, sauntering into the kitchen with princess in her arms. “why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“did you… post that photo?” y/n asked, holding up her phone.

jimin blinked innocently. “which photo?”

“the one where i’m in the background!” y/n said, turning the screen to show her. the photo had gone viral, with thousands of comments and likes. most of them were about y/n.

who’s the assistant?? she’s so pretty!

karina’s assistant is stealing the show 😍

someone get this girl a modeling contract!

jimin’s smile faltered for a split second before she shrugged. “oh, that one. i didn’t think anyone would notice you.”

y/n raised an eyebrow. “really? because it looks like everyone noticed me.”

as the day went on, the comments kept pouring in. fans were obsessed with y/n, dubbing her “karina’s pretty assistant” and even creating fan accounts dedicated to her.

jimin, meanwhile, was not handling it well.

“why are they so obsessed with you?” she grumbled, scrolling through the comments during a break in her photoshoot. “you’re not even doing anything in the photo.”

y/n smirked. “maybe they just have good taste.”

jimin glared at her. “this is my instagram. they’re supposed to be talking about me.”

“well, maybe next time you should make sure i’m not in the photo,” y/n said, clearly enjoying jimin’s frustration.

by the time they got home, jimin was in full denial mode. “it’s not that i care,” she said, flopping onto the couch. “i just don’t understand why they’re so interested in you.”

“maybe they think i’m cute,” y/n said, shrugging.

jimin’s eyes narrowed. “you’re not that cute.”

y/n laughed. “says the person who’s been sulking all day because i’m getting more attention than you.”

“i’m not sulking!” jimin protested, crossing her arms. “i just don’t like sharing the spotlight.”

“uh-huh,” y/n said, clearly not convinced.

later that night, jimin found herself scrolling through the comments again. she told herself it was just curiosity, but deep down, she knew it was more than that.

the truth was, jimin didn’t like the idea of y/n being in the spotlight—not because she was jealous of the attention, but because she didn’t want to share her with the world. y/n was hers. her assistant, her confidant, her… well, she wasn’t sure what else, but she knew she didn’t want anyone else to have her.

“stupid comments,” she muttered, tossing her phone aside.

“still obsessing over that photo?” y/n asked, walking into the room with a cup of tea.

“no,” jimin said quickly. “i just… don’t like people assuming things about you.”

y/n raised an eyebrow. “like what?”

“like… that you’re available,” jimin said, her cheeks turning pink. “or that they can just… have you.”

y/n blinked, surprised by the intensity in jimin’s voice. “jimin, are you… jealous?”

“no!” jimin said, too quickly. “i just… you’re my assistant. that’s all.”

y/n smiled, setting down her tea. “you know, for someone who’s not jealous, you’re acting pretty possessive.”

jimin opened her mouth to argue but stopped when y/n sat down next to her. “look,” y/n said softly. “you don’t have to worry. i’m not going anywhere.”

jimin looked at her, her expression softening. “promise?”

“promise,” y/n said, smiling.

the next day, jimin posted another photo—this time, a selfie with y/n clearly in the frame, smiling this time. the caption read: “my assistant. hands off.”

the comments exploded all over again, but this time, jimin didn’t mind. after all, she’d made her point.

y/n rolled her eyes when she saw the post but couldn’t help smiling. “you’re such a drama queen, jimin.”

“maybe,” jimin said, smirking. “but you’re still mine.”

[pretentious-blonde]

new neighbour

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: steve is down because of his dating life, or lack thereof. that is until the new girl captures his attention

warnings: literally none, nervous and sweet steve!!

a/n: i have been gone for 3 months but uni has finally settled down! also if anyone wants a pt. 2 with steve trying to help move r in i am so down! i have so many ideas!!!

A steady stream of gray light filtered through the wide front windows of Family Video, illuminating the rows upon rows of VHS cases. The day was uncharacteristically slow, the kind of weekday lull that left the store feeling hollow and cavernous. Steve Harrington stood behind the counter, leaning his elbows on the chipped laminate surface, tapping his fingers in a pattern he’d repeated so many times in an attempt to give him something to focus on. 

His eyes hurt under the fluorescents, and though he tried to keep a casual expression, anyone who looked long enough could see the small, flickering signs of boredom crossing his features. On the other side of the store, Robin roamed the aisles, a small stack of VHS tapes in her hands, placing each one in its rightful place on the shelf. Every so often, she’d glance toward Steve, as if expecting some lively remark, but he remained lost in his thoughts.

“Hey,” Robin called, sliding a Night of the Comet tape onto the appropriate rack. “So… Vicky and I were talking the other night, and we thought, maybe this weekend…” She paused, drifting closer to the register so her voice wouldn’t echo.

Steve raised an eyebrow, still drumming his fingers on the counter. “Yeah, maybe what?”

Robin placed the last tape in her stack onto the shelf with a gentle thud. “Well, we’re making dinner. A real dinner—you know, in an actual kitchen, with actual groceries. Vicky wants me to learn her mom’s lasagna recipe. The whole shebang.” Her bright eyes searched his face. “Why don’t you come over? Eat with us?”

To anyone else, that might sound like a friendly suggestion. But there was a flicker in Robin’s eyes that Steve knew well: an undercurrent of pity. After all, he’d gone on a date last weekend that hadn’t exactly gone well. He was used to being the one with endless charm, the guy who always had a witty quip or a warm smile to keep a conversation going. Yet none of that had worked on Tanya—no matter how hard he tried. God was he trying.

Steve sighed, pushing himself upright. “Yeah… no.”

Robin visibly balked, confusion knitting her brows. “What do you mean, ‘yeah… no’? You can’t just respond to an invitation like that.”

“Exactly how I just did,” he said, mouth tilting into a faint, lopsided grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks for the invite, but I’m not interrupting your date night just because you feel bad for me. I know you guys are trying to, like, throw me a bone or whatever.”

Robin’s cheeks puffed out in a mock sigh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She turned away, pretending to occupy herself by adjusting a crooked VHS case. The slight shift in her voice told him otherwise. She always was a terrible liar. 

He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You know what I’m talking about.” He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, though the memory of last weekend pricked at him more than he liked to admit. Tanya had been gorgeous—dark hair, lovely eyes, a laugh that could probably stop traffic. At first glance, she was the perfect fit. But after an hour of him asking question after question and receiving nothing but uninterested one-word answers, he’d realised that appearances weren't enough to carry a conversation. The spark was missing, that intangible something that made him want to stay, to laugh, to learn more. It just wasn’t there. He was beginning to think it never would be, at least for him.

Robin finally turned back. “Okay, so maybe I know you’ve been bummed. But it’s not pity, Steve.” She rolled her eyes. “Vicky genuinely likes you. We both do.”

“Sure,” Steve said, gently drumming his fingers again. “Vicky likes me enough to let me crash her romantic, candle-lit dinner with her girlfriend.” He narrowed his eyes playfully. “Yeah, that’s not weird at all.”

Robin shot him a look. “It’s not weird if we invite you. And besides, it’s not like this is going to be some super fancy dinner. There might be candles, but that’s only so I can see the food properly, okay?”

Steve snorted, though the weight in his chest didn’t quite lift. “Look, Rob, I appreciate it,” he said, voice softening. “I do. But I’m not sure I’m up for third-wheeling on a Saturday night. I think it’s safer for everyone if I steer clear, especially given your experimental cooking.”

She pressed her lips together, fighting a smile. “Wow, way to appreciate me trying to feed you.” Though she spoke jokingly, she studied his face for signs of deeper sadness. He was Steve Harrington—he was supposed to be the one with the perpetual easy grin. But ever since his dating and social life had crashed and burned, Robin could see the twinge of hurt in his eyes. He was insecure. He liked to feel needed, he always had. He had no problem giving himself to others. So watching everyone else find their person only made him more self-conscious. The truth was nobody needed him, and that knowledge was slowly eating away at him.

“You know,” Robin added, resting her hands on the cart that held a few more tapes, “it’s not just about the date. I get it—you’re lonely. It’s okay to admit that. We’ve all been there.”

He opened his mouth, his gaze slipping away to look out the window at a slow-moving car. The driver was just a blur behind the glass, but it gave him something to focus on. Because she was right. He was lonely, and part of him wanted to accept Robin’s invitation so badly. The other part of him couldn’t bear to insert himself as a third wheel—he knew that feeling too well. He’d spent years longing for something real, something effortlessly mutual. Maybe he’d find it eventually, but not if he was hanging around a couple who only extended the invite out of sympathy.

“Okay,” Robin said, exhaling the tension that had built up between them. “If you change your mind, call me. Seriously, no guilt trip, no questions asked. Vicky won’t mind. We’ll have a plate ready.”

A genuine smile tugged at the corners of Steve’s mouth. It still looked like it held a bit of sadness but he covered it up to not upset her further. “Yeah. Thanks, Rob. I promise, if I get the sudden urge for a crisp lasagna—”

“Hey!”

He grinned for real this time. “—I’ll give you a call. Right now, though, I think I’m just gonna stick to renting a movie and ordering takeout. Maybe keep my Saturday night simple.”

Robin nodded, accepting his declination. Her gaze lingered, and she wanted to push harder, but she knew Steve well enough to sense that pushing too much would only drive him further into his own shell. “Alright,” she said softly, reaching out to pat his arm. “You know where to find me if you need to talk.”

“I know. And thanks.” He meant it.

Their eyes met before Robin moved off to shelve the remaining tapes. He watched her go, then slowly leaned forward on the counter again. Outside, the sun was getting a little brighter, illuminating the Family Video sign and casting reflections across the empty parking lot. He was trying to think about whatever movie he would undoubtedly be bringing home with him for the weekend, alone. That is, until he sees you.

You’re walking at an unhurried pace, shoulders slightly hunched against the cool breeze, but there’s something about you that holds his attention. The way your outfit matches in a way that feels effortless but intentional, the way your hair catches the light, styled just enough to suggest effort but not so much that it seems like you’re trying too hard. 

You push open the glass door, and the bell above gives a soft jingle that seems to echo in the stillness. The warmth of the store envelops you, a cozy contrast to the lingering chill outside. Rows of tapes tower around you, aisles lit by bulbs that buzz quietly in the background. It all feels a bit nostalgic, not too intimidating. 

Behind the front counter, Steve stands with his elbows braced on the worn surface. For a second, it looks like you’ve interrupted him mid-daydream—his brown eyes are distant. The moment you step inside, he blinks, and you can practically see the switch flip as you catch him. Suddenly, he’s all awareness, standing straighter, swallowing once. A faint flush colours the tips of his ears, though he tries to hide it by running a hand through his hair.

He looks at you in a way that he hopes is welcoming, he’s not sure if he should say something immediately or give you space to browse. There is a gentle lift of his shoulders as he inhales, working up the courage to speak. You offer a polite nod and slide toward the nearest aisle before he can get a word out.

He exhales a shaky breath he didn’t realise he was holding, mind racing as he tries to place you. He can’t recall seeing you here before, and he was certain he would remember if you had. He drags his fingers over the keyboard, tapping random keys to pretend he’s busy. In truth, all he wants is to keep glancing your way. It was maddening forcing his attention to the computer screen. 

You wander among the rows, taking in the titles. There’s something oddly comforting about the smell of plastic VHS covers. Occasionally, you catch sight of Steve peeking over from the desk, just for a moment, before he ducks back down to avoid being caught staring. You find yourself smiling at his obvious attempt to be casual.

He, meanwhile, is silently scolding himself. He knew he was being weird—God, he needs to get a grip. But there’s a traitorous part of him that can’t help noticing the delicate way your hair frames your face, or the look of your jacket—well worn, well loved, taken care of. Even though your aura was disarming, he felt like he was in high school all over again, unable to stop staring at the pretty girl in the corridor.

Eventually, you settle on a tape, The Empire Strikes Back—something classic you’ve been meaning to watch again. Taking a steadying breath, you head to the counter, the plastic case clutched in your hand. As you approach, he forces himself to appear relaxed, collected, though inside he’s buzzing with anticipation.

“Um, hey… Steve,” you look up from his name tag, placing the tape before him. His eyes dart down to the cover, then back up to you. “Do you work here?”

The moment you say it, you realise how silly it sounds—he’s in the company vest, with a company name tag on it. Heat flares across your cheeks.

A laugh bubbles out of him—warm, kind. He shakes his head gently as if to say, Don’t worry about it. “Yeah, I do.” 

You nod, cheeks still burning from your awkward question. “Yes. Sorry, I, uh… obviously you work here.”

“Nah, no problem. I’ve gotten weirder questions,” his smile widens, softening around the edges. You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. “Good pick, by the way.”

As he scans the tape, you notice the slight tremor in his hand. It’s barely there, but you sense the sweet, nervous energy radiating from him. His gaze flickers to you, then back to the screen, then to you again—like he can’t quite decide which deserves his attention more. You, probably.

“So, um,” he starts, clearing his throat, “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you… new in town?” He tries to sound casual, but a hopeful note creeps into his voice, as though he’s crossing his fingers for you to keep talking.

You brighten at the question, happy to have something normal to say. “I am, actually. I just moved here a few days ago. The apartment is literally right across the street—well, I think you can see it from the window.”

His eyes widened with interest and with the knowledge of your close proximity. “Yeah? Pretty convenient if you want a movie.” And maybe to see me, he almost adds. “So, when exactly did you move in?”

“Three days ago,” you reply, letting out a breathy exhale at the memory. “I’ve been knee-deep in boxes ever since. I finally decided I deserved a break, and what better way than a movie night to make the new place feel more like home, right?”

He nods fervently, excitement sparking behind his eyes. “That’s true. Shame I wasn’t working that day—maybe I could’ve, I don’t know… helped haul a box or two?” He offers a tiny shrug, his words stumbling a bit as he realises how forward that might sound. “I mean, not that I… I just… you know,” he begins to backtrack.

A warm giggle escapes you, putting him at ease. “I appreciate the thought. My arms hurt for, like, the whole day afterwards.”

He huffs a little chuckle, feeling relief wash over him when you don’t seem put off. “Exactly.”

He glances around the store for Robin knowing she’s probably lurking somewhere, listening in with a sly grin. But in this moment, he can’t bring himself to care too much; he wants you to have his full attention.

“If you don’t have a membership yet,” he says, fishing around under the counter for a form, “you’ll need to fill this out.” He slides a paper and pen toward you.

“Right, I’m totally new,” you reply, stepping closer to read the sheet. As you lean in, Steve notices the light scent of your shampoo—or maybe your perfume—and it makes his pulse skip. He’s had customers before, obviously, but none have made him feel this flustered. It wasn't a feeling he necessarily disliked. 

Fighting the urge to stare too obviously, he busies himself with looking at the returns papers, occasionally sneaking a glance your way. He notices the way your brow furrows as you fill in the different boxes, huffing to yourself when you wrote your previous address, crossing it out and starting again. It was so human, so endearing, he had to turn away fully or his amused smile would give him away. 

Once you’ve filled out the form, you pass it back. He types in your details, the corners of his mouth quirking up as he commits your name to memory. “Perfect,” he tells you, printing out a fresh membership card and sliding it across the counter.

“Thanks,” you say, tucking it into your wallet. “Feels official now.”

He can’t help but feel upset that this moment is slipping away—any second, you’ll thank him, smile, and leave. Then he’ll be stuck behind the counter once again, replaying this conversation over and over until you come to return it, which could be a week from now. That would be unacceptable.

He clears his throat. “Uh, so,” he begins, voice wavering ever so slightly. “You got any big plans this weekend? Since you’re, you know, new here.” You could tell he was aiming for confident, but that casual tone of his falters as he seems genuinely invested in your response. 

His smile drops as he hears your reply. “Actually, yeah, I do,” his heart sinks, mind already going into overdrive. You’re probably telling him politely to let him down. He knew he was being too brazen, but he couldn’t stop the embarrassment from settling in his chest. 

“I need to head into town and get some furniture,” you explain as his head looks up, stopping him from spiralling. “I heard there’s a store a few miles away?”

He smiles at the fact that you’re still talking and didn’t just shut him down, you’re just busy—and that’s okay. “Oh, yeah,” he nods eagerly. “There is, um, it’s about a ten-minute drive, tops. Depends on traffic, I guess, but Hawkins isn’t exactly wild.” He lets out a weak laugh. “What are you, uh, looking for?”

“Mostly a bookshelf. I thought I could just stack my books, but they’re already in danger of tumbling over.”

He is listening, but a large part of him is cursing how little attention he paid in English class. Wishing he could humour you more. “That’s cool,” he says safely. “So, you’re a big reader?”

You nod, eyes lighting up. “Oh absolutely, I love getting lost in a story.”

He can’t help but think how sweet you are, the warmth in your expression filling his stomach, urging him past his nerves to finally ask what he had been wanting to. “Well, if you need help lugging that thing up the stairs to your apartment, I’m, uh… not working this weekend.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, he realises that, once again, it may have been too forward. 

“Really?” You ask, face brightening before he had the chance to overthink. “That’d be great! I was kind of worried about getting it back here on my own.”

His heart does that little flip at your acceptance of his offer. He nods enthusiastically, a few rogue hairs settling on his forehead, making his appearance more boyish. 

“It’s no problem,” he tells you as he puts his hands in his pockets, trying to appear relaxed as if this wasn’t the most exciting opportunity to happen to him all year. “I’ve got a car that’s… well, it’s big enough. Definitely more roomy than your average trunk. If yours can’t handle the bookshelf, mine can.”

You break into a grateful grin. “Wow, that’s really nice of you. Seriously.”

A blush creeps across his cheeks at your kind words, his face turning bashful. “Honestly, it’s no big deal at all.” It really wasn't, if all it takes is transporting some furniture to spend more time with you, he would gladly do it.

You lift your shoulders in a shrug, feeling slightly indebted. “Well, at least let me buy you a coffee or something afterwards, to say thanks. I insist.”

“No, that’s—” He starts to protest, but the look on your face tells him you’re determined. It’s kind of adorable how your eyebrows pinch together.

“I insist,” you repeat, a little more firmly, and he laughs quietly. So you're stubborn, he can work with that.

“Alright,” he concedes, holding up his hands in surrender. “Coffee it is. How about…” Think, Steve, think. “Saturday morning, I can meet you out front, say, 10:30? Unless that’s too early?” In truth, he’d be ready at sunrise if it meant spending more time with you, but he doesn't want to sound desperate.

“That’s perfect,” you say, beaming as you pick up your rented tape. “Thank you again, Steve.”

“Sure,” he replied, feeling a grin stretch across his face, so genuine it almost hurts his cheeks. He is shocked at how he managed to do this. How—by some miracle—you of all people had moved across the street. 

You give a small wave, and the door shuts behind you, the bell chiming one last time. His heart is still hammering away as he stares at the closed door, trying to process that he just—did that. He just set up what is basically a date… or at least a coffee situation. Either way, it’s something.

In the sudden quiet, he hears a muffled sound from behind him, and when he spins around, there’s Robin standing in the break room doorway. She’s practically bouncing on her heels, eyes wide with excitement.

“Oh, my God,” she says, not even bothering to hide the grin overtaking her face. “Was that—did you just—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he cuts her off, rolling his eyes even though he can’t keep the giddy smile off his own lips. “Shut up, Robin.”

She doesn’t shut up, but he doesn't mind. All he can think about is Saturday morning, and the way your face lit up when he offered to help you, and how maybe this is going to be the start of something really, really good.

[fazmid]

#yeah I had the talk about the Pale with the fucking uh negotiator lady and#the whole time I was like ‘okay clearly this is some conspiracy wack job shit’#asked my pretty little questions and nodded and uh-huhed the whole thing#Kim walks back to me and goes “so what you think?#and I go ‘yeah that sounds insane’ becaUSE I THOUGHT IT WAS#And KIM#KIM MY GUY#HE GOES ‘I understand. I wasn’t sure how well you would taking it considering the state you’re in’#and I’m like WHAT#CAUSE I KNOW KIM DONT BELIEVE IN THE CONSPIRACY BULLSHIT#AND I SPEND THE NEXT 5 MINUTES JUST GOING ‘HOLY SHIT THE PALE IS REAL? THERES A NOTHINGNESS THAT CONSUMES ALL???’#‘AND YALL JUST KNOW THAT AND LIVE WITH IT??? WHAT THE FUUUUCK’#also side tangent- Kim. Kim you live in a world where the Fucking PALE exists#and yet the idea of a bug that looks like a reed is so impossible to you that you scoff at the idea?#that’s literally like the most mundane thing ever and people are literally finding new bugs all the time#‘oh yeah THE NOTHINGNESS THAT CONSUMES ALL is real and we all know about it but STICK BUGS? Nah that’s ridiculous’#at this point you could tell me that fuckin- that walking mountains exist and I’d have to believe you (via @rathersketchy)

hope you don't mind me preserving your tags bc they made me cackle

[carigm]

The “Teaser”, mlvn rooftop convo, and Lord of the Rings parallel…

This is gonna be a long post, so grab some snacks y’all.

First of all, the teaser the Duffers shared at this Netflix shareholders event was basically all BTS stuff, and according to someone that was there, we have mostly seen all of it. The actual clips from the show they showed were so short that most people missed it. However, over those short clips it seems they played a voiceover of part of the mlvn rooftop convo. Notice how the Suffer Sisters are literally incapable of sharing anything new, and the only audio they disclosed is from the ONE scene that’s been leaked to death, and even transcribed multiple times with the help of AI. In any case, Netflix did not share this teaser with the masses, and it’s unlikely they ever will. Stranger Things is not going to the Super Bowl this year (yes you heard that right) and the Tudum Event isn’t until May. Our only hope before that would be them releasing something on Will’s birthday, but whether in March or May, I believe we’ll be getting a proper teaser by then.

People that attended the event reported that El has a voiceover line where she goes “they don’t get to write the ending, we do” and apparently a voiceover Mike line where he goes “we’ll finish this together” (I’m not sure if this was paraphrased or not). Immediately, we all realized that these lines sound pretty close to what Mike is allegedly saying to her during the rooftop scene. Many people in the fandom have taken the time to transcribe that scene, some with AI and some without, and although some things could be wrong here and there, the general idea of it seems pretty clear. I’m attaching an AI reading of the scene here, so I can point out where I think his dialogue might be from…

Around the 1.43 mark, the AI picked up “enjoying it, together”, however I think this is where the “we’ll finish it, together” line comes into play. If anything, this shows AI isn’t 100% accurate, and it does call into question some of these previous lines 😂…I think it’s possible that after this speech from Mike about stories, fantasy endings and heroes, El tries to follow his advice and be positive, and maybe she delivers the “they don’t get to write our ending, we do” line back to him. It’s unfortunate because obviously we can’t see her face in the video, but I think it makes sense she would reply with that because right after it seems like he says “of, course…” and then proceeds to seemingly add that the Party can have a happy ending, without all the fantasy elements he mentioned before.

I find it very interesting that he’s choosing to speak to her with this storytelling analogy, which at first I believed to be a D&D analogy, but the more I think about it, the more I feel like he’s talking about an actual story. And then the lord of the rings parallel hit me, specifically with this scene. If you’re not aware, Finn Wolfhard has mentioned lotr twice now when talking about season 5, and I personally think it’s possible that Mike is using lord of the rings here as a reference to describe the hero’s journey and relate it to what the party has been through. Think about it, he’s trying to cheer El up, who has been stuck in that fuckass radio station for a year, who’s probably extremely tired of everything she has been dealing with for years, and he just wants to offer her some consolation so she can keep going and fighting. Does that sound familiar?

Well my friends, if it does, that’s because it is a direct parallel to Frodo and Sam from Lord of the Rings. I’ve always thought Byler were insanely samfrodo coded (funny enough the last S4 Byler scene is almost identical to this scene too), but it seems the Duffers are paralleling mlvn to them here. In lotr, Frodo bears the biggest burden of the story, as he follows his hero’s journey to Mordor to defeat evil. Along the way, ofc, he becomes increasingly weary and hopeless, and it is up to Sam (his best friend) to cheer him up and provide him with strength to keep him going. How does Sam do this? Interestingly enough, he encourages Frodo by describing all the beautiful things that will come AFTER they have won, what they and their friends will be able to enjoy when they get back home. Basically everything Mike appears to be saying to El in this scene, fantasizing about the end of the battle. To make the parallels even crazier, while on his hero’s journey, Frodo has to remain in hiding because there are multiple forces looking for him, and we know that El is basically hiding away from the government.

Another thing I want to point out is that in lotr (spoilers I guess 😭) good does win in the end, and the main characters get to return back home. However, Frodo is so changed by the journey and all the things he encountered that he simply cannot stay with his friends. Instead, he leaves and goes to the Undying Lands, where he finds peace. He doesn’t die, but he also cannot stay in Middle Earth. Him and Sam have a beautiful goodbye scene and then Sam is left with the literal book of stories Frodo started, and is told by Frodo to “finish it”.

Make of that what you will…

[rhiannonsknife]

could I put in a request for Lucy MacLean x Wasteland!reader? you both find shelter and you usually take first watch because you’re used to staying up late. Except Lucy has a habit of making your job harder than it has to be because she just starts yapping and won’t go to sleep right away. Take yesterday night for example, you underestimated her ability to run out of things to talk to you about and you lost about 2-3 hours of sleep because of it. Tonight, Lucy’s about 15 minutes into her yap session when you randomly ask her if she wants to have sex, she’s delighted at the idea and agrees. You wanna tire this woman out, what’s a more efficient method than giving her a few orgasms? (maybe even include this being Lucy’s first time being eaten out?)

── GUILTY PLEASURE

— summary: lucy won’t stop talking.

— warnings: kind of inexperienced!lucy. fem!reader. nsfw content. mdni. this took me a month to edit but here we are.

the shelter you’d stumbled upon earlier isn’t much. it’s hardly anything at all: half a roof, crumbling walls, and a faint musty smell.

still, it seemed better than sleeping under the open sky where god knows what could catch you off guard. so, you decide to settle yourself near the door, leaning against the wall with your weapon in easy reach. first watch, as always.

and, as always, lucy is making it harder than it needs to be.

she’s sprawled on her bedroll a few feet away, her head propped on her pack like a makeshift pillow. the dim glow of the dying embers between you throws flickering shadows across her face, as she talks.

“-and, i mean, who even puts that much trust in a filtration system, you know?” she says, her tone exasperated. “it’s like, sure, the overseers say it’ll last forever, but what happens when the pipes get clogged? no backup system, no-“

you pinch the bridge of your nose, cutting her off before she can spiral any further into whatever story she’s telling you from her life in vault 33. “lucy-“

“what?”

“i thought we agreed you’d try to sleep during my watch!”

“we did,” she says, shifting to rest on her elbows now . never a good sign. “but you’re awake anyway, so it’s not like i’m interrupting anything. besides, you’re terrible at keeping yourself entertained. i’m doing you a favor!”

you give her a flat look. “i don’t need ‘to be entertained’. i need quiet!”

lucy scoffs. “quiet seems overrated. besides, what if something sneaks up on you? you’ll want me awake to watch your back.”

“that’s literally my job right now,” you deadpan, gesturing toward what once was a door.

“okay, fair,” she says with a shrug. “but what if you fall asleep? then we’re both screwed!”

you let your head fall back against the wall with a soft thud, staring at the cracked ceiling. “lucy, if i fall asleep, it’ll be because you spent all night talking about pipes and filtration systems instead of letting me do my job and i’ve bored myself to death!”

“i’m just saying, vault-tec could’ve planned better” lucy goes on after a short pause, like you’ve never asked her to stop at all. “like, one person on maintenance for an entire level? no wonder the water tasted weird that day!”

this has been your dynamic ever since you met her: lucy talking your ear off, filling the silence with anything and everything that comes to her mind.

“do you ever stop?” you ask, arching an eyebrow at her.

“not really,” lucy says, grinning. “another thing,” she leans forward slightly. “i get why you’re all about this ‘quiet’ thing, but maybe you’d actually enjoy these little watch shifts if you talked more. or, you know, let me help you stay awake!”

you scoff. “help me stay awake?”

“yeah,” she says. “like conversations, or games, or- i don’t know, literally anything but sitting there staring into the darkness like some broody protagonist in a bad holotape!”

“you’re unbelievable.” you laugh, despite yourself.

she beams, triumphant, and leans back again, her hands clasped behind her head. “you’re welcome.”

the wasteland beyond the door feels vast and empty, the moonlight barely illuminating the cracked ground and jagged ruins. you focus on the shadows, your grip tightening slightly on your rifle. lucy’s voice continues behind you, her words blending into the ambient hum of the night.

another ten minutes of this pass, your patience wearing thinner with every syllable; your initial plan to just wait for her to get sleepy doesn’t seem to be working.

“if i had been in charge of the vault party planning committee, there’s no way they would’ve run out that fast” she’s currently recalling. “it’s simple logistics. one crate for every-“

“lucy,” you interject, your voice flat.

“what?”

“are you ever going to go to sleep?”

“eventually,” she says with a shrug. “it’s not like i’m bothering you, right?”

you sigh, defeated. “you are absolutely bothering me,”

she ignores that completely, her tone turning thoughtful. “it’s kinda nice, though, isn’t it? i talk, you listen, we bond. i mean, sure, you don’t say much, but that’s probably because you’re so fascinated by what i have to say-“

“lucy…”

“-which i get! not everyone grew up in a vault, so my perspective is pretty-“

“lucy!”

she finally pauses. “yes?”

you turn fully, leaning your shoulder against the wall as you cross your arms. “do you want to have sex?”

the words hang in the air for a beat, and for once, lucy falls completely silent. you watch as her face cycles through surprise, confusion, and delight in rapid succession.

“wait, what?” she asks, already sitting up. “do i- are you serious?”

you shrug, trying to look nonchalant despite the heat creeping up your neck. “you’re not gonna sleep, and you’re definitely not gonna let me do my thing. i figure if i wear you out, i might actually get some peace and quiet tonight,”

lucy blinks at you, and then, once you’re fairly sure she will turn the insane offer down, she grins.

you‘ve thought about it before. not about sex, necessarily, but tamer things: you found yourself staring at lucy in the rare moments when she wasn’t chatting away, eyes studying her features whenever she hadn’t been looking your way. you thought about kissing her, too, about her body against yours and-

well, perhaps you had thought about sex with her.

you never figured out what vault dwellers like her learned about sex down there. only that, presumably, she does seem to know what you’re on about, judging by her enthusiasm.

“this is the best thing you’ve suggested so far,” she says, already tossing aside her blanket and crossing the small room to stand beside you.

lucy lingers above you for a moment, her eyes scanning over you as if weighing her next move. she takes her time. when she finally lowers herself into your lap, it’s with purpose, every movement measured. her weight presses into your thighs, grounding you in place, while her palms rest on your shoulders. lucy’s thumbs gently trace circles on your skin through your clothes as her eyes search yours.

to your surprise, you are the first to falter under her gaze, something lucy so clearly relishes. a satisfied glint flickers in her eyes just before her hands glide up, fingers curling around your jaw as she cups your face. without warning, she tilts your head back, guiding your gaze to hers again, brushing absently over the corner of your lips.

“don’t look away now,” she murmurs, a teasing rasp, her breath ghosting over your skin.

her thumb and forefinger catch your chin, holding it firmly as she hovers there, close, her lips parting ever so slightly as if to speak.

just when you think you can’t stand it any longer, lucy finally leans in.

her lips meet yours, soft at first, almost tentative, like she's waiting for some kind of reaction. she grazes the sides of your face, memorizing the feel of you beneath her touch. the kiss deepens quickly, the tension from earlier bleeding away into something much softer, more urgent.

her confidence only falters when she first tries to grind down against your pelvis, searching for a friction you cannot provide. you’re not sure what she had expected, or if she’s moving on instinct, but this is when it seems to sink in that lucy is in no position to fully take the lead here.

“are you a virgin?” you blurt at her puzzled expression.

“no!” lucy says, shaking her head. “no, it’s not- i got married remember…?” she grimaces, recalling the events that had followed her rather short lived ‘marriage’ in vault 33.

“okay, so…” you start. “what’s going on here, then?”

“i-” her gaze flicks between you and some point over your shoulder. her cheeks flush. “i just- well, you know, it’s not that different, right?”

“lucy…” your voice softens, even as you fight back a laugh. “do you actually know what you’re doing?”

“yes!” she says immediately, too quickly. then she hesitates. “well…sort of?”

you give her a look, and her face crumples into a sheepish grimace.“okay, fine, no,” lucy admits, throwing her hands up in defeat. “but i wasn’t going to say that out loud! i thought i could just…figure it out as we went.”

you sigh, though there’s no real annoyance in it. “you’ve been with someone before. why didn’t you-”

“because it’s different!” she interrupts, her voice rising again. “i mean, for one thing, he wasn’t…” she waves her hand vaguely in your direction, her words trailing off like she’s afraid to finish the thought.

“a woman?” you supply.

“yes, exactly,” lucy nods. then, as if to clarify: “not that that’s bad! it’s just- i don’t really know what i’m supposed to- how i’m supposed to…” her voice fades again, and she presses her lips together, clearly frustrated with herself.

“lucy,” you say gently, drawing her attention back to you. “it’s not something you’re supposed to just know. especially if…” you pause, hesitant to touch on something that might sting. “especially if it wasn’t…encouraged where you grew up,”

she frowns, her brows pulling together. “yeah, well, vault 33 wasn’t exactly a…bastion of sexual enlightenment! marriage, reproduction, carrying on the bloodline…i suppose it was always about the next generation, never about- this!”

lucy sighs.

“and, look,” her words come in a rush now, like she’s determined to explain everything before you can judge her. “it’s not like i have a problem with it! i mean, clearly, i don’t, because we’re, uh, doing…whatever this is. i just…i guess i thought it’d be easier to figure out!”

you reach up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. all your previous annoyance has melted away, replaced by a need to show her that this -sex- could be about so much more than just reproduction. “you don’t have to figure it out all at once, you know. we’ve got time!”

lucy’s gaze meets yours, hesitant but hopeful. “we do?”

“yeah,” you say softly, your fingers lingering against her cheek. “you don’t have to take the lead here, either. just…trust me, okay?”

“okay,” she says quietly. “okay, i trust you,”

“good,” you lean up, brushing your lips against hers, slow and careful. her shoulders relax immediately, and when she kisses you back, it’s sweeter than before: less frantic, more curious, like she’s letting herself feel everything for the first time.

you kiss her slowly at first, moving your lips in sync with lucy’s. she’s following your lead now, letting you set the pace of your mouths. she still seems as eager though, and when she starts moving her hips again, you’re prepared:

instead of your pelvis, you maneuver her so that she’s grinding on your thigh, finally giving her access to the friction she’d been searching for.

“o-oh-“ lucy mewls softly, her head lulling back as she ruts against you for a little while. you can feel the warmth radiating from between her legs already, damp through the fabric of her suit.

taking it off will be a risk, of course: stripping naked would make a quick escape damn near impossible. but you decide that, as you feel her arousal drag over your leg, lucy maclean is worth every risky decision that might come with it.

so, as she moves against you, as high-pitched moans start spilling from her throat, you reach for the zipper of the blue suit. it parts smoothly, the soft scraping of the interlocking metal echoing in the otherwise quiet space.

you look up at lucy, only vaguely aware of the white bralette that comes into view now that you’re unzipping her clothes.

you don’t want to make her uncomfortable by blatantly staring but the skin that’s revealed to you makes it impossibly hard. so, instead, you choose another way to show off your appreciation: without tearing your eyes from hers, you lean in and press your mouth to the flesh between her collarbones, then move lower.

lucy gasps, her lips parted and her brows slightly furrowed. it’s her who peels the sleeves of her jumpsuit from her arms, who lets it pool by her hips and reaches for you all over again. who urges you closer by the back of your head with one hand, while the other grabs the hem of her underwear.

“wow,” you gasp, dumbfounded when lucy -your lucy- tugs the bra upwards enough to free her bare chest from the restrictive fabric. she smiles, shyly, and tilts her head.

her nails sink into your shoulder the second your mouth closes around her nipple; she’s responsive there, more than you ever were, more than you thought she’d be. so responsive that lucy starts moving her hips more frantic when you roll her other nipple between your index and thumb.

and still…”more,” she whines softly, greedily, dragging her soaked center across your flexed muscle. “i want you to touch me,” she breathes. “please”

you trail slow, open mouthed kisses down her torso, your hands gliding over the curve of her back. you press lower, as far as you can reach, until your neck twists at an almost painful angle and lucy's hand finds the back of your head, cradling it gently.

that’s when you shift, moving her body so she’s leaning against the wall and you’re positioned between her spread legs.

lucy watches you through curious eyes, studying your every move as you get to kiss down her body more comfortably. you hold the eye contact, despite the need to stare at her chest (her nipples still hard and wet with your spit) until you have to pull the zipper lower and peel the fabric from her legs.

you slide it off and tuck it beneath her, allowing lucy to rest on it rather than the dirty floor, leaving her in a pair of panties matching the white bralette.

lucy’s body shudders as you kiss back up the expanse of her legs, the muscles in her thighs tensing. obviously, you don’t stop there: you crawl up further and further until you’re almost at the apex, reaching for the waistline of the underwear and-

her legs clamp together suddenly, forcing you back.

“what-“ lucy stammers, unsure. “what are you doing?”

“i was gonna-“ you lick your lips, dropping your hands to her hips. of course lucy has no idea what you were going to do. “can i-“ you consider your words, unsure how to explain it so she’ll understand. “-put my mouth there?”

lucy’s eyes widen. “you want to-”

“please,” you whisper. “please, can i eat you out?”

lucy -her own want betraying her- whines, her hips jerking towards your mouth. from here, between her legs, you can see the wet patch of arousal that has soaked through her underwear.

“okay,” she pants, nodding frantically. “okay, yes. please!”

immediately, you reach out, hook your fingers underneath them and pull the panties down her thighs. you take your time making sure to securely place them in one of the suit’s pockets so they won’t get dirty, before finally turning your gaze back to lucy, who’s waiting in anticipation.

she lets you take in the sight with a nervous look on her face, biting the side of her index.

your fingertips absentmindedly trace the skin, watching the way lucy’s body parts for you. she is beautiful, endlessly beautiful, glistening with arousal, and framed by coarse hair.

“i’m sorry, i should’ve-“ she begins, but you immediately hush her.

“you’re beautiful,”

lucy inhales breathlessly, her fingers forming a v-shape and spreading herself open for you to see.

“fuck-“ you mutter under your breath. lucy’s clit is throbbing.

slowly, you make your way up her thigh. in response, lucy buries her fingers in your hair, sighs softly as she invites you in, and spreads her legs wider.

you nudge her skin with your nose, nipping on the tender flesh.

the first time you put your mouth on lucy, her legs close around your head. her jaw goes slack and her brows furrow in concentration, adjusting to the new sensation.

you start with featherlight kisses to her swollen clit, each making her buck her hips against your face.

“o-oh!” lucy stammers from above, looking almost confused, surprised by how good your lips feel as they brush over her. “that feels so good,” she breathes finally, her body rolling down against your tongue.

“yeah?” you murmur, soothingly wrapping your arms around her thighs to hold her open as you circle her clit with the tip of your tongue.

“mhm,” lucy nods, but it comes out more like a whine at a particular good press of your lips. just as lucy buries her fingers in your hair, seemingly wanting to push you closer, you push her apart and lick a broad stroke right through her, getting your first actual taste.

instinctively, your eyes roll back, the lewd moan that rips from your throat drowned out by her skin.

“g-god-“ she stutters. “that’s- ah- good.”

unbeknownst to lucy, the sweet praise goes straight to your center. if you had a pillow, or anything useful around, you’d shove it between your legs and grind on it while you eat her out.

but, regardless of your own lack of relief, her words encourage you to lick deeper, to move faster inside of her and show her all that she’s been missing out on. you alternate between fucking your tongue into her, and wrapping your lips around her clit to suck on it, all while lucy pulls your closer, guiding your tongue to where she needs it the most.

you gladly let her, ignoring the occasional sting of your scalp at sharper tugs.

for a while, you eat lucy out like that, getting lost in each of her desperate attempts to stifle her sighs and her taste in your mouth. her words have morphed into muffled babbles above you, incoherent sounds of pleasure.

it doesn’t take long at all until she is getting closer: her head has lulled back against her bag, her moans come out more ragged and breathless, and the leg she has thrown over your shoulder trembles with tension as she pushes her heel down on your spine to urge you closer.

instead of teasing lucy, you go right for it.

your lips close around her clit again, just as two of your fingers sink into her. squirming above you, lucy mindlessly grinds her hips to your face, aching for that release. she chants little ‘ah, ah, ah’ sounds, her cunt tightening around your fingers so much it’s hard for you to thrust them in and out of her.

both your nose and your chin are covered in lucy’s wetness, glistening in the dimly lit space as her hands curl to fists in your hair.

“i feel…” she begins, trailing off. you’re not sure she knows what she’s feeling. or maybe she’s in disbelief because you only have your hands and mouth to use on her and still it’s enough.

either way, you encourage her, putting your thumb in place of your lips, rubbing her clit with the wet pad of your finger to keep her on the edge. “that’s it,” you mumble.

lucy chokes on her noise of approval and just nods her head instead. “yes,” she whispers, over and over, like a prayer. “yes, yes, yes! i’m gonna-“

that’s all of a warning you get before her whole body tenses. her lips are parted in a silent scream, her hips jerk forward once more before it all comes crashing down on lucy. the sound she makes is somewhat between a cry and a moan of your name and she arches her back from the ground when she cums.

you manage to tear your gaze away from her convulsing cunt to catch a glimpse of her, so lost in the haze of her pleasure: lucy’s eyes are shut tightly, her head thrown back so much that the entire expanse of her neck is on display for you.

her walls tighten around your fingers, trying to suck you in deeper, to keep you in place while she trembles with the force of the orgasm she’s riding out on you.

only when her body has stopped shaking, you lean back, not wanting to push her too far. she’s already given you more than enough.

“phew,” lucy says once she’s caught her breath. it’s so ridiculously lucy you have to bite back a laugh. “is it- is it always like this?” she asks by the time you’ve crawled back up her body and slumped down by her side.

you reach for her, not even thinking about it properly until you’re already cradling her face, your thumb grazing over her jaw soothingly. lucy doesn’t seem to mind.

“no,” you manage quietly, taking in her features in the dark. “no, it’s never been like this.”

luct turns her head to look at you, her expression open. she’s still flushed, her hair mussed, her lips kiss-swollen, and she’s smiling.

“i liked it,” she says, voice hushed. then, as if realizing how simple that sounds, she rushes to clarify: “not just because of- well, you know…but because it was you!”

you swallow hard, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. “yeah?”

lucy nods, shifting so she’s curled against your side, her fingers idly tracing patterns against your arm. “yeah.” a beat passes, then: “i think i wanna do that again. like…a lot.”

you laugh outright at that, tilting your head to press a kiss to her temple. “you really are something else, maclean.”

she hums, pleased, before shifting closer, tucking herself against you like she belongs there. you don’t realize how quiet it’s gotten until lucy is fast asleep in your arms.

[amascomet]

Hello I was wondering if you have more stuff on the TMNT Spliced Au and how the comic is going?

Ah thank you for your interest! I’ve got so much but also literally nothing haha. End of last year was particularly rough for me so I had to take a break from working on it. Love TMNT GS but I won’t lie and say it’s not emotionally draining, wish I could beam it into all of your heads! Here’s a huge dump of random assortments I have from developing it.

COMIC UPDATES - peep the sketch for the cover, cool right?

I finished thumbnailing the first 34 pages of #1, but only one page has been fully completed. ⚰️ I’ve never made a comic before, so I’m doing a lot of learning with this. Most of the delay just comes from the fact that I love to design and I’m very crazy about details so that means I’m easily getting caught up in reading books, building little 3D sets, designing props n vehicles, ect.

I get so caught up in the visual worldbuilding cause its my favorite thing to do lol. I feel really bad when I stop working on pages in because my brain is like OK WAIT I NEED TO DESIGN THE GUNS, THE LABS, AND STOCKMANS CAR KEYS. Its really silly. I do wanna keep chipping at the comic, but at this point I've written and planned so much of the lore I kinda just wanna make it all public so I can talk about it. I'm constantly torn about it cause its like oof whats the point of making the comic if I'm just gonna talk about all the spoilers. With how this years going, I'm starting to lean into more of lemme just be free and do whatever I want!

Table of contents from the lore bible I'm still chipping away at. I'd love to just drop updates for it if that's something people would be interested in.

Alternatively, the idea of just releasing scripts for it has crossed my mind. #1 has a general outline, but I'd actually would just love to go back and detail, refine it, and drop that for now until the visuals of the comic are done.

I'm actually going to test the waters now and link a script for a scene from The Farmhouse arc I wrote a couple of months ago. If that's something people would be interested in, I'd love to know!

ART DUMP MOMENT -

Various other little development sketches and a new character or two omg

OK I KNOW THAT WAS A BIT OF A RAMBLE, FORGIVE ME! But yup thats it! TDLR; GS is in development hell and I'm waiting for ya'll to give me the greenlight to just start talking crazy. I've got multiple seasons/arcs to gush about.

[ossiethegreat]

Hii!! Idk if someone asked before, but what kind of music genre or artists do u think the chromatic crew would listen to?

I don’t know the names of like any genres because I listen to the most random crap but I can attempt to explain my ideas ☝️

For Color, I think he’d listen to stuff like folklore and acoustic rock, maybe like AJJ, The Front Bottoms, Alex G, Jeffery Lewis, Kimya Dawson, etc etc… though that’s probably me projecting cause all of those artists are in my color playlist

I also think he’d occasionally just listen to really loud music to keep himself grounded, or possibly the opposite with white noise or just slower music

Also he secretly enjoys Taylor swift

For Killer, I think it’d take him time to develop an actual music taste, so he listens to so much random stuff when he feels like it… he’d probably stick to things that tickle his brain or whatever, maybe even just listen to instrumentals instead of songs with words. He listens to whatever other people listen to, and it also heavily depends on what stage he’s in and I don’t feel like getting into that 😭

In general I think he’d like breakcore, maybe Machine Girl, hell even the Yume Nikki soundtrack or other weird music like Nero’s Day at Disneyland

But also punk rock, metal, freaking Will Wood or something . Nightcore

Don’t ask why but I feel like Delta would have the most millennial ass playlist ever . I’m talking like AJR, Twenty One Pilots, Lady Gaga. No hate no any of those artists obviously

I think he’d also enjoy punk rock and numetal like Killer, honestly I see him listening to phonk too. He plays like fuckass car edits on repeat because he likes the music and cars

Cross would listen to Get Scared, Set it Off, Pierce the Veil, literally any emo band that I can’t remember the names of. He’d listen to playlists like “POV: You’re an alpha wolf” or something . Honestly I don’t know enough about Cross to think of much. I see him listening to workout stuff with Delta (whatever that means)

And finally Epic, I’d say nightcore/daycore, vocaloid, literally any anime intro. Probably general pop music as well, Taylor Swift. A whole lot of internet pop culture and memes I feel like.

Of course he’d also listen to emo bands with Cross, they probably know every word to Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing. He also feels like a phonk type of person. Don’t kill me

[cjlouwho]

Why don’t you want to be here when the show comes back??? Genuine question because I’ve been having these feelings too but can’t place them.

*this is just me complaining, feel free to ignore*

It’s a myriad of things really… I’m still bummed about bucktommy, and how they screwed up Buck’s bi storyline. I’m just not interested in his story right now, and I have no desire to see him in even more pointless relationships.

There are so many fights that happen! Everywhere! About everything! I’m convinced 75% of this fandom hates the show but, for some reason, doesn’t know how to stop watching. The people I follow are lovely, and I’ve weeded out all the arguers, but you still see it. And it’s impossible to find the perfect way to block it out.

I don’t have any desire for bts stuff. This is already happening, and I have no idea why but it stresses me out! I usually love bts, but this show ruined the excitement of it for me. And now that there’s not one main source for bts, everyone is posting it and it’s impossible to filter. This is in no way shading anyone who posts bts, post whatever the hell you want, these are my issues!

And then there’s people who say they have inside sources, and there’s people getting leaks, but everyone is vague about it and it’s kinda ridiculous. If you’re gonna mention having spoilers, then either discuss them or don’t mention it at all. Sorry, it was so much better during Glee when spoilers were tossed out like candy and you knew everything about an episode two months before it aired 😂

And the whole thing overall bums me out because I found 911 during the worst time of my life and it really saved me, and I joined in the fandom because I wanted to not be lonely, and now I’m getting told that buddies talk shit about me, bucktommies talk shit about me, and I can’t even begin to understand why. I’m a literal no one with no connection to the show, and what I say doesn’t mean a thing. Idk sometimes being a part of something can make you feel even more alone.

Anyways… yeah, I don’t wanna be here much once it starts up again lmao

[pixiedurango]

Hey, so I saw your letter ask post and it's an amazing idea! Your letters look so good 😍!! I was wondering if you would in interested, please, in doing one between Teia and Lucanis where Teia absolutely has picked up on the love/desire/connection between lucanis and Rook and she's trying to subtlety encourage/ get info out of Lucanis because aside from spite, teia is rookanis biggest shipper and no one can convince me otherwise 🤣! Thanks 😊

Yay, you have sent my first ever request for the Antivan Postal Service. Thank you so much.

I went with a f!rook without any other specifications, I hope that is OK. Here we go, I really hope you like it <3

Transcript:

Lucanis,

forgive me, but the day I’ll address you as 1st Talon in a private letter, I might throw myself into the canals from the big bell tower.

I just wanted to check in with you. Sending something else than operation missives, contract matters and reports. Some cozy Antivan hospitality within those lines to give you a glimpse of home. And a taste, see the crate attached - you will find an assortment of the finest delicacies Treviso has to offer.

Ah, she sends gifts… what does she want? I don’t need to see you, to know what you are thinking right now. But can a fellow Crow, a Talon even, of a somewhat alligned House not just look after you to see how you are doing? You’ve been away for so long, even before the… you know what. And upon return, you just stumbled into the worst of literally everything…

Just let me assure you that things are calming down around here and once you will return home, you’ll find your Crows in immaculate shape. We know, that Caterina will take care of that, but not alone, as Vi and I are here to have your back. And that’s not sucking up to my boss, but as I see it the only chance we have is unity if what we seek is stability and a thriving Treviso, a thriving Antiva once this whole ‘killing the old gods and stopping the end of world’ thing is over and dealt with.

How is life at the lighthouse? We really need to drop by soon for a meetup and a tour. I’m dying to see how it is to live in the Fade. Aren’t these crazy times? Casually speaking of visiting friends in the Fade where they live. If I would not be part of this whole story I wouldn’t believe it if someone told me!

Speaking of crazy… How’s Rook doing? She works so hard. And yet she always has a smile and a kind word. I wonder where she got THAT from. Unlikely from Viago. And she got you your smile back, too! You thought I would not notice, right? But its clear to see that you are beaming. More every time we meet.

I’m not saying it’s her (alone) that brought your smile back. Purpose, a contract, some successes along the way, friends… all this does wonders for you.

But from the day, that you begged me to not flirt with your “colleague” I knew there was something between the both of you. You might not even have realized yourself then, but I KNEW. And don’t you shake your head on reading this, I know what I know. Rook is not only a pleasure to look at, but she is also smart, loyal, funny and, you can’t deny it - good for you.

Don’t you worry, I may not have many secrets in front of your nonna, excuse me, Caterina - but this one will stay between me and you (and Rook). Viago of course is as oblivious of social cues as ever, so you don't have to worry on that front, either.

Be assured, you can explore this surely exciting events in your private life without the worry, of becoming the cover story of the Treviso gazettes. Your secret is safe with me. This said, just know that I’d love to hear everything you want to tell me about it, but of course I know I’m talking into the Fade here…. Quite literally.

So, nothing more to say but: Enjoy your gift box, I recommend the bottle of good old red together with some of the tapas in the sealed basket. I’m sure, Rook will love them too.

Always yours - Teia

[mistermalaprop]

finished au crosshairs art & talking about the stranded au

continuing from this post! want to start reading? here!

w/ the text and then-

no text! finally, he's all colored and pretty!

anyway, i know this idea is a bit niche and weird but i’ll talk about it here:

the fuck is this idea, mal!?

you don’t have to shout :(

but in summary: the stranded crosshairs au takes place after an alternate timeline in age of extinction (2014) where lockdown + cemetery wind was successful in nerfing almost all decepticons and autobots on earth. lockdown does not get defeated and humans are still assholes, yippie! crosshairs, being crosshairs, nopes the fuck out when optimus prime gets captured and executed— and drift comes with, because literally everyone else is dead… including the yeagers :( i’m sorry, but the government would kill them all.

the two are on the run in space for a couple months or years, but they get inevitably captured by lockdown and— oop! that’s all i’ll say about that.

this incident ends up with crosshairs’ spark being transported via a tear in the well of allsparks and he wakes up in the rid 2015 universe!

ohh okay okay.. but what about crosshairs himself?

crosshairs, in the live action movies, is a fucking jerkwad arse lmao and i know it. due to story reasons, his behavior is mellowed out and he’s not as obnoxious (we still need rid15 sideswipe to be that #1 nuisance) or violent. he hung out with drift for years alone in the middle of space, he picked up a few things!

well, not as violent towards other bots i mean. after cemetery wind back in his own world, he is distrusting of humans to a lethal degree (rip danny and russell) and hates being touched. i wont get into too many specifics, but just know he’s a tired, blunt bastard that just wants to sleep all day (it’s the depression and chronic attachment issues).

he starts off alone in the story but gets picked up into the bee team (against his will).

other info!

i’m happy to answer any questions about anything in this au (characters, relationships, story, etc) via the ask box. i like answering questions <3 other comments and concerns are also not minded :)

also! design wise— because i love designing things and talking about design choices— below is how i’d imagine the parachutes to work. i wanted to keep the paratrooper aspect of his original character since i liked how unique it was!

i hope it makes sense, because it was funny to draw.

i had fun drawing that, it’s silly.

and that’s all i got for now! here is my current poster for this au— in color and black/white! since i’m planning on it being a little comic thing with some writing (maybe).

[j-partneringrime]

tr!aimros are at it again guys… so here’s yet another analysis about yet another argument. yay… (please read the whole thing, i like all of it but I feel like it gets better the more I wrote, I got into the aimros zone, I guess)

I don’t know how to start this so I’m just gonna jump right into it, their argument about tr!ros not really listening to tr!aimsey is so interesting because ros is misunderstanding what aimsey’s means by listening, ros assumes they mean not literally listening or not listening to anything they say, when they don’t mean that, yes, ros, and everyone else, do listen and they do take some of the stuff they say in, they don’t take the rest of that information in, the actual important information in, and ros is sadly the one who does this most, because ros is the one they try to talk to the most and try to get through to the most, so she ends up the one not really listening and dismissing it most.

Then later, ros brings it back up to clown as well as saying to him that aimsey has just been keeping her company while he’s been gone, which she definitely didn’t mean to sound like that, but it’s clear that that’s how it came across to aimsey and you can’t really blame them, since the way it was worded along with aimsey’s current mindset towards how they’re thought of by others, that something meant completely harmlessly and kindly can be misinterpreted like that through the lens aimsey is seeing it from. And when aimsey even starts to mention it, ros instantly gets defensive and raises her voice to do so, she is always so quick to defend herself, because to her, she’s not doing anything wrong, that she can’t actually consider her actions having mistakes or consequences, her first thought isn’t to try to comfort aimsey and reassure them that’s not what they meant, she just instantly goes “aimsey no” because one of ros’s main problems is that she can’t see her faults, she’s trying to do good, so why would anyone get upset, it just constantly happens where she can’t see why aimsey is upset at her actions and words, because she didn’t mean it that way and to her, she’s just doing a good thing, so why would anyone be upset by it, and she shows that in the way she first responds to those criticisms, which is to deny them, not reassurance or to explain, just to deny, because she doesn’t want anyone taking her the wrong way even though that she’s failing to see they maybe it’s not her actions being taken the wrong way but just her actions themselves being wrong.

Ros also says, to explain her getting loud, that aimsey makes her angry, which is because she is always defending herself to aimsey, due to their criticisms of ros and her thoughts and plans, but ros doesn’t process the criticisms, so just looks back on her getting defensive as her getting upset and angry because of aimsey, because her mind refuses to acknowledge the flaws in her ideas and any criticism of those flaws.

And to bring up to clown how aimsey said she doesn’t listen to them is similar to how she brought up her fight with aimsey to bad and pili, these are things that are between aimsey and ros and are personal things and problems and shouldn’t be said to other people constantly, like in bad & pili’s case as it literally being the reason they fought in the first place and directly said by aimsey to ros how they don’t want anyone to know what happened, and this time with clown, it being brought up almost in a dismissive way, as basically saying to clown “aimsey said I don’t listen to them, can you believe that” which is still coming from that misunderstanding about what was meant by listening, but even if ros was right about how it was meant, it still shouldn’t be said to other people, especially after already making it clear last time with saying to bad & pili.

And after that, aimsey walks away and lets ros and clown continue talking, which of course ros doesn’t do and instantly comes to talk to aimsey, because ros genuinely wants to and is trying to fix this but she just can’t, and she can’t see that she can’t and won’t be able to until she addresses her very flawed world view and ideals. And then the first thing she says is saying sorry for if she said the wrong thing, which you can see she’s trying to apologise and doesn’t want aimsey to be upset but again she has no idea what she’s done wrong, because she can’t say, she doesn’t start off with anything she’s actually done wrong, she just said “if I said the wrong thing” which not only is not actually addressing anything but it’s not even admitting that she did say the wrong things, she’s saying IF she said the wrong thing, even in the actual apology itself, she still can’t see any of what she did wrong. And when they start talking and aimsey is clearly very frustrated, because they’ve had this conversation so SO many times now, and asks what was it she’s apologising for and ros, again with no realisation for her mistakes, asks did she make it weird, which she very obviously did, and she keeps apologising for it. Which aimsey then brings up how she is always apologising but she never knows what for and never learns from it, so the apologies are becoming meaningless, since ros takes nothing from them, both about what she is even apologising for and what she should learn from the apology. Because how many times has ros repeatedly apologised only to continue those bad ideas and flawed views the literal second she walks away. It’s the same thing with them over and over and over, ros does something, aimsey tries to talk to ros about it and how to better go about it without doing or resorting to the things she’s doing and ros defends herself but eventually apologises for those things, only to leave and do those exact things again, not learning or realising at all, destined to repeat again and again until ros eventually, inevitably, goes too far and dies.

Then after that, aimsey brings back up what ros said to clown about just hanging out with aimsey while he was gone, and ros defends herself because that’s not what she meant and starts to explain herself and genuinely does explain and apologise, very well, and you can clearly see that ros knows how it was taken the wrong way and explains and reassures them on how they meant it, a true genuine apology, which is what she should’ve done when it actually happened, instead of just instantly defending herself without trying to explain or reassure aimsey and just told them they were wrong, but then aimsey also brings up how this just shows more of ros’s priority to the kingdom and how she will always put the kingdom first no matter what, which ros then again tries to defend herself but it instantly gets shut down, because she herself have admitted and shown, time and time again, how no matter how much she talks and goes through with aimsey, the kingdom will always come first for her, to a detrimental extent. She deeply cares about aimsey and she will always try to put aimsey first, more than anything, but then when it actually comes down to it, she chooses the kingdom every time, she wants so badly to prioritise aimsey, she says it over and over and tries to show it over and over but it just can’t happen for her, the kingdom is such an important thing to her that she can’t let go and loosen that hold it has on her, even if she needs to just a bit to learn and grow, which is another reason she’s constantly making the same mistakes, because she wants more than anything to keep her relationships with the people around her and never wants to lose any of that, which adds to her need to protect everyone and please everyone, despite being told not to and how it is hurting her relationship with the people around her and more importantly, hurting herself.

That’s the most heartbreaking thing about ros’s descent into violence and her need for respect, that she is such a kindhearted person, and that kindheartedness is still always front and centre but it’s still being corrupted by these ideas she has, and the reason she’s doing this, for herself and her friends, is so important to her, that she can’t listen when the people around her, the person most important to her, is telling her not to do this, and to give up on this needless quest for respect and protection, because she needs to do this for them, she knows and can see that these people can protect themselves but she still won’t stop because she views her own value from her value to other people, so she’ll stop at nothing to try help, whether she really should be or actually is or not.

Now the not listening comment comes back up, and ros starts to explain why she disagrees, because she talks to aimsey everyday and takes her advice and does what aimsey says, like she’s starting sleeping more since they told her to because of her constantly getting attack by phantoms for not doing it. And how she’s started sticking up for herself more because of her talks with aimsey and she says how she does take their advice and even if they don’t take all of it, they said they don’t have to take all their advice. Which is true but missing the huge point that there’s a difference between not taking all their advice and only taking the advice that doesn’t go against her own view that aimsey is constantly trying to talk her down from, most of the advice and talks aimsey says to ros is about ros’s view and ideas on respect and violence so for ros to only really listen and take in the one or two pieces of advice they say that doesn’t affect that idea is missing the point. Like yes, you don’t have to take all the advice but the ones she is taking are the wrong ones, ros does sleep more because of aimsey’s suggestion and talks with her about it, but her sleeping really doesn’t matter that much, yes, they want her to do that and they’re happy she is, but it is so much more important to them that ros stops this doomed crusade to be feared and to protect others at her own peril. So for ros to only listen to the small pieces of advice that don’t change much either way over the many, many things they’ve said to her about her stopping trying to be more violent and trying to give better solutions to ros about these problems, is obviously going to be taken and viewed by aimsey as ros not really listening, but ros can’t see that because she is technically following what aimsey has said but she can’t see that some things they’ve say have a lot more weight and meaning than others so it can’t all be viewed the same way.

Ros then mentions how she feels like aimsey is angry at her and the way she talks about it shows this is something she genuinely believes and thinks is justified against her, even if she can’t see herself why, and aimsey starts explaining that they’re not really angry, more just doesn’t understand, because they can see what a genuinely good person ros is, and how much she is genuinely trying to do good but just keeps falling down the same path, making the same mistakes, having talked to aimsey so many times about this and clearly trying to do better and fix things but just can’t, and just keeps getting herself hurt and killed by making the same mistakes over and over, aimsey just doesn’t understand what she’s doing, what her actual plan is, how many times she has said to them that all she wants to do is be there for the people she cares about and to make her friends happy, only to then turn around and go completely against that by doing something that not only has clearly been said to be something her friends don’t want her to do but also that ends up just getting herself hurt, which is clearly not what the people who care about her want. To which ros says that the reason she doesn’t explain to aimsey what she actually wants or is doing is because she herself doesn’t know what she wants or is doing half the time, and ros just doesn’t realise that if she isn’t sure what she actually wants or is doing then she shouldn’t commit to doing something that hurts everyone around her, and always leads to getting herself killed, she should stop and figure out what she wants and what she actually wants to do, instead of just staying on this path that clearly isn’t working for anyone, including herself, and she wants so deeply to not let anyone down but doesn’t realise that keeping doing this and keeping making these mistakes is always gonna let her loved ones down, because they can see how much this is hurting her, so why can’t she see it.

And aimsey counters ros’s repeated statement of wanting to make them happy by asking what has she actually done lately to make them happy, and ros names giving the flowers, building the teal titans hq, helping with the gravel and armour trims, which are all very nice things she has done, definitely, but the fact she doesn’t mention the constant quest she has for violence and trying to gain respect, or doesn’t mention anything from her talks with bad or pili, because she knows that’s not what aimsey wants, she’s clearly been told that time and time again, and yet that is still the main thing she has been doing, and still doing that even after aimsey and tried to get through to her over and over, that they don’t want this, is obviously gonna make them upset, even if she still does other things to make them happy, like the flowers or the base, because those things are nice, but they don’t erase the genuine sadness and worry they have from ros staying going down this path, with seemingly no signs of stopping.

And aimsey tries asking what it is ros actually wants, what she is actually doing all this for, because she’s given so many different answers that it’s not even clear what all this is for anymore, is it to gain fear? to gain respect? to stand up for herself? to stand up for the kingdom? to get others to stop? to make her friends happy? to protect her friends? What is any of this even for anymore, and ros… doesn’t know, she says it changes from day to day, which, like she says, is fair, but if she’s gonna keep risking her life, keep losing her life, for this goal, and now for the goal to not even really be there or matter and to change day to day, what is this even for anymore, she’s losing herself, her morals, her life. And for what? She doesn’t know. She’s doing all this, hurting herself, hurting the people she cares about, just because, mainly, she’s already started doing it and the longer she does it, the more she’ll be committed to doing it but also the more it’ll lose all meaning of what this is even for, she’s in a cycle that can only end in pain and heartbreak, that already has ended in pain and heartbreak, many times over, and yet here she is, still going along this path, still repeating this cycle. She can tell herself she’s doing this for her friends, to make them happy, to protect them, but none of that changes that fact that her friends, that aimsey, wants her happy, with them, not dead on a battlefield because of a need to protect them, to see her dying over and over, to see her dead over and over. And for them to think, she’s telling herself she’s doing this for them, to protect them, and they’ll think, maybe if they could just get through to her, if they could just get her to see, maybe this would stop, maybe she would be okay again, maybe she would be content again. No one who loves her, ever wants this to happen to her, and yet it does keep happening, over and over, and they want more than anything for this to stop, for her to stop, and they’ll keep thinking, why won’t she stop, aren’t I enough for her, will I ever be enough for her, or will this always end up back on that battlefield, back with her dead, back with her trying and trying and trying to fix something that doesn’t need fixing, to keep dying and dying and dying for a mission that shouldn’t even exist, why can’t they be enough for her, why can’t she see that she has always been enough for them, they don’t want her on this crusade for them, they just want her. They just want her here and they want her safe, and if they have to fight a million fights for that, then so be it, but they don’t want her trying to fight those fights for them, trying to cause those fights for them, they just want her alive, and why is it that so hard. They’re here, they’re always here, so why can’t she just talk to them before giving her life for a meaningless goal in their name.

And now all the old wounds come back, their constant back and forths, ros’s betrayal of trust to bad and pili, her doing it again with clown before, but none of it stays, because aimsey don’t want for it to stay, they don’t want all this coming back up, they just want ros to figure out what she wants, what her real priorities are, they can’t keep hurting themselves trying to help ros figure something out that she is seemingly so desperate to not figure out, they can’t keep doing this, so now they just need to tell ros and put their faith in her to figure this out herself. Because they can’t keep doing this, they can’t keep seeing ros thinking she needs to die to help others, ros has become so desperate to protect others, to die for others, so desperate to become a martyr that all she is now is a sacrifice, a meaningless sacrifice that changes nothing and will just happen again, because it keeps happening again.

Ros tries to get aimsey to see it from her point of view and mentions how they jumped in to protect her against pangi the other week, without seeing that what she’s doing isn’t jumping in to protect them, she’s throwing herself at them for the idea of protecting them, there is no actual protecting happening, because there is no actual harm happening, just someone desperate for a mission, desperate for a purpose, that she’s throwing herself over and over to her death with the idea that she’s protecting people when she’s just hurting them, because they don’t want to see her hurt, especially not for them. They don’t want her to want to die to protect them, they want her to want to live for them, to keep living for them, because what’s the point of sacrificing yourself for someone if they don’t even have you with them anymore.

Aimsey is someone so intrinsically linked with death with both their constant experience with it yet still complete denial of it and their longing for it after so long, so not only for them to gain a connection as deep as they have with ros, which they don’t like making because it always ends the same way, with them outlasting them and eventually losing them, seeing them die, over and over, but also to see that happening to ros now, to see her keep dying over and over, but this time not because of aimsey’s curse, aimsey’s destiny to always see their loved ones die before them, but because of her own need to protect people, to protect them. Why does death taunt them like this, is making them keep dying over and over without the actual relief of death not enough for them, is making them come back with the scars, with the pain, with the reminders of how much they’ve been through, how much they’re still cursed to go through not enough, must death also taunt them by having the person they care about so deeply get herself killed, over and over, in their name, while they’re cursed to remain, always remain, knowing no matter how much they wish they could switch places with them, how much they wish they could let ros live while they die instead, they can’t, they’re stuck here, not dying but not really alive either, just here, watching while the people they love die, watching ros be so desperate to protect them that she’s dying for them, getting herself killed for nothing, while all they can do is watch, because no matter how much they try to talk to her, to help her, or how much they want to die in her place, to let her live instead, they can’t, they never can. Knowing they’ll eventually lose her isn’t enough for death, death needs more, wants more, so they’re making it happen now, right in front of them, for no reason, while they’re cursed to remain.

Sooooo… aimros, am I right? This took so long, and it’s the longest one I’ve done by far, I hope you liked it and I hope my ramblings made sense!! They’re both such good characters and so fun to analyse and write about!!

[k1ttycrush]

Happy Lily Evans Day

A little fic in honor of lily’s birthday <3

Platonic moonflower, and also a tad bit of wolfstar. On the side, as a treat. Cuz I’m greedy LOL

Not beta read, we die like literally everybody in this fucking fandom

word count: 2,449

“It’s almost Lily Evans day men..” James said sternly to his friends.

Peter looked up from the muggle magazine he had borrowed from Sirius. “Lily Evans day?”

“He’s obviously talking about Lily’s birthday, Wormy.” Sirius rolled his eyes. he looked to James again from his spot on their shared floor, cocking his eyebrow suspiciously. “Prongs, what could you possibly be plotting now?”

“Ah yes, my dear Pads… we must come up with something amazing.” James said as he paced back in forth in their little dorm room. “Something…spectacular. Something that would truly blow her socks off.”

“Um…why?”

“Why!” James suddenly exclaimed at Sirius. “Well it’s Lily Evans day, Padfoot! This day only comes once a year!”

“Have you gone mad James?! Do you not remember the last times we tried to give her something?!?”

James snorted. “I’m only mad for Lily Evans. Padfoot you have to understand… I have a feeling, a hunch you might call it, that this is the year. this is the year she will finally come around, I know it!”

Sirius spared a suffering look at Remus, giving the boy a little shrug. Remus only smiled an easy smile back.

“Oh! We could give her some flowers!” Peter chimed in.

“We tried that in 4th year, remember Wormy? James replied solemnly, before throwing himself down on Sirius’ bed. “She burned them and then threw them at my feet!”

Peter suddenly had a little pink tint of embarrassment to his cheeks.

“Oh, I know!” Sirius said. “How about we enchant all the portraits to sing ‘Happy Birthday’! Like we did at Christmas!”

Remus snorted, not looking away from his book “That would never work.” He muttered, mostly to himself.

Sirius scoffed. “Well then, Moony. What do you think we should do?”

Remus rose to the challenge, though unexpected. “Well, someone like her wouldn’t approve of something as outlandish and obnoxious as portraits constantly singing. She likes things that are more thoughtful, and contrary to popular belief, gifting her lillies because her name is Lily is not very thoughtful.” He said casually, nose stuck in his book. “Her favorite color is red, she loves to bake. And also her favorite band is Fleetwood Mac.”

The room was suddenly very silent. Remus quickly looked up from his book in confusion, just to be met by the gaping faces of his three friends.

A small, embarrassed, blush began to creep up his neck. “What?” He asked. “Did I say something?”

“…how do you know that?” James replied in disbelief as he sat up from his place in Sirius’ bed.

“Oh, we study sometimes. For…transfiguration.” He looked around. “Oh will you stop the staring! It’s creeping me out!”

That seemed to snap his friends out of it.

“Well, would you look at that. Watch out, Prongs. Moony here is coming for your girl.” Sirius laughed.

James only moaned as he buried his face into a pillow. “Pads! Don’t joke about something like that. I’d be torn if one of my best mates got with the actual love of my life.”

But Sirius only laughed harder.

“Wait…guys.” Peter suddenly said. “I have an idea!”

The room quieted again.

“Well, Wormy, let’s hear it.”

#

The nearly grown boys struggled to fit under the invisibility cloak as they awkwardly shuffled down the empty hallway to the painting with the pear that led to the kitchens.

“Hey, watch my foot Padfoot!”

“Me?! That was Wormtail.”

“I could’ve sworn that was you though!”

“Well it wasn’t Prongs!”

“Guys!” Remus whispered irritably. “Shut. Up. A prefects coming.”

The boys quieted immediately, letting the prefect pass by. His badge twinkled under the shine of the light from his wand.

It was the two nights before January 30th—Lily’s birthday. The Marauders were on edge, eager to put their plan into action. And today, they were enacting the first step.

A couple more steps landing them infront of the painting. Remus stuck his hand out to tickle the right pear, and the painting swung open as the pear blushed and giggled with delight.

“Ah, it always smells amazing in here. Isn’t that right lads.” Sirius exclaimed as the boys walked out from under the protection of the invisibility cloak. The kitchen did indeed smell amazing, all sorts of spices and foods and odors wafted through the air.

They were soon met by what felt like a little army of house elves flocking to them.

“Visitors!”

“Students!”

“Hello there!”

“Hullo!”

“Would you like something to eat? Like some fruit?”

“Hello students!”

“Some sandwiches, perhaps?”

James let out a little laugh of shock. He sheepishly held out his hands as the crowd gathered at his waist. “Uh, hello everyone. I was wondering if you could bake a cake. See, it’s for a very special girl, so we need to cake to be very special.” He stuck out a little note with the flavors, icing, and any other details they wrote down.

The house elves seemed to immediately light up with delight, happy to be of service.

“Oh most certainly!”

“Right away!”

“Yes, we shall make an amazing cake!”

“Yes, yes!”

“Here, have some cheese and crackers while you wait!” One said, quickly shoving a platter full of various types of crackers, meats, and cheese into Remus’ hands. Remus let out a shocked laugh.

The crowd of chattering house elves quickly dissolved. James couldn’t even get a “thank you” out before they were already busily measuring flour and eggs and sugar into bowls.

Sirius let out a little laugh as he plucked a piece of cheese and a cracker from the tray. “They sure do like us, eh Prongs?” He popped them into his mouth.

“I’m sure it’s because we drop by so often,” Peter said. “Gives em’ something to do.”

“Oh, I’m sure house elves have hobbies other than cooking or cleaning.” James said thoughtfully as the group crossed to a little set of chairs surrounding a table by the wall.

“Maybe running errands.” Sirius replied with a snort as he nibbled on another cracker. “What say you, Moony?”

Remus set down the platter onto the table, throwing a piece of cheese into his mouth casually. “Oh, what would I know about the comings and goings of house elves?”

“I mean, you always have your nose in a book, you ought to know something.”

Remus just shrugged as Sirius smiled that easy-going smile. All pearly teeth and delicate lips and daring edges. Very pretty.

Remus quickly looked away.

Just then, a ding! sounded, and a beautifully decorated cake plopped itself onto the table they waited at. Remus positively salivated at the delicate swirls and patterns in the one-layered cake.

Oh yeah, this plan would definitely work.

#

The night before the big day, as Remus laid curled up in his soft bed, he thought of tommorow.

He’d never thought to do something for Lily’s birthday until James had brought it up, what would that say about him? Maybe he needed to be a better friend, he’d say. He supposed he doesn’t think of Lily much as just a study partner, but as a friend. A valued one, at that.

Remus began to drift off to sleep when suddenly he heard a pale hand softly tap twice on the board of the bed. Remus jumped in surprise.

He instantly grabbed for his wand under his pillow, flinging the curtains that surrounded his bed. He instinctively stuck the wand under the chin of whoever stood outside.

“Merlin’s sagging fucking nuts Moony!”

It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but when they did, he was met with Sirius holding his hands up in surrender. His hair and clothes were slightly tousled, as if he spent all night rolling in his bed. His head was backed as far from Remus’ wand could get it.

Remus let out a sigh of relief and annoyance. Of course it was just Sirius. “Get your arse in here, Black.” He mumbled drowsily. Sirius just grinned and climbed into his bed, muttering a silencing charm under his breath.

Remus rubbed at his eyes as Sirius got comfortable.

“So…” Sirius began.

“So.” Remus replied, his voice husky from sleep. Sirius subtly straightened up a bit. He let out a quick breath.

“Uh- um-“ Sirius spluttered. “Uh. I just wanted to say… ahem… thank you. For helping us a lot.” He said as he fiddled awkwardly with his hands.

Remus suddenly felt like he was talking to someone different entirely. Sirius wasn’t awkward. He wasn’t nervous, he was Sirius. Beautiful and dazzling. Always radiating that unimpeachable air of confidence.

A bloody star that attracted anything close enough with its undeniable gravity.

“Why are you nervous?” Remus asked. His voice was still husky. Sirius quickly looked down at his hands in his lap.

“I…I dunno. Just couldn’t sleep, wanted to, uh, see you.”

Remus’ mouth formed a little ‘oh.’ There was a little fluttering in his chest. He awkwardly scooted over a little bit, patting at his side. He looked away.

Sirius looked up, his eyebrows shooting up ever so slightly. Before crawling over and settling next to him.

The two sat in silence for a little while, looking up into the ceiling. It was when Remus’ eyes began to feel heavy when Sirius broke the silence.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked softly, sleepily. Remus’ ears tingled delightfully.

Remus swallowed nervously. “Nothing much. You?”

“Just tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Just…thank you, Remus. For your help.” He whispered. “This means so much to James, he really does love her. And I care for the idiot. If she’s what’s going to make him happy, then so be it. We really couldn’t have done it without..y’know. You.”

Remus turned his head to face Sirius. His eyes strained to see him in the darkness, but he could make out his silhouette. He felt his breath hitch, ever so slightly. Sirius turned his head to look at him.

“I’m- I-“ Remus whispered. “I care for him too. You’re welcome.”

Sirius nodded at him slightly, before sitting up and taking his wand in his hand. Remus watched him crawl over his bed and through the curtains, whispering an incantation.

When Remus thought Sirius was gone, the curtains cracked open again.

“Goodnight Moony.”

Remus couldn’t help a little smile as he got comfortable in his bed.

“Goodnight Pads.”

#

Lily was on high alert.

Today, she was on her guard. It was her birthday, and she knew the those damn Marauders were up to something. Between James’ unrelenting affection for her, and his friends’ willingness to go with everything he says, it is safe to say that she has been on the lookout for any signs of tomfoolery or strangeness.

Mary approached her as she walked to her next class. Lily cracked a small smile at her friend, whose face was split in a wide, happy grin.

“Hi Mary!” She greeted.

Mary let out a little giggle. “Hi Lils. Happy Lily Evans day to you, birthday girl.” She said, nudging her playfully.

“Hey! Stop that!” Lily laughed. Mary continued nudging her, until suddenly, they were approached by someone.

Lily recognized her to be Violet from Potions, her black hair hung over her shoulder in a plait.

“Happy Lily Evans day!”

Mary smiled at her. “Happy Lily Evans day!”

Meanwhile, Lily, was confused. Utterly stumped.

“Uh, thanks?” She said, unsure. As Violet rushed past her to get to her class, Lilly turned to Mary.

“Uh hey Mary?”

“What’s up?”

“Um…what is with this Lily Evans Day thing?”

Mary just smirked knowingly. “Oh, you mean you haven’t heard?”

Lily cluelessly looked around the hallway of students, and that’s when she finally caught on.

Students of all ages were wishing each other a Happy Lilly Evans Day. She whipped her head around in disbelief. She took everything in, realization settling in.

For the rest of her walk to DADA, she had only one thought in her mind.

Those damn marauders!

#

Lily dreaded dinner. So much so that she was genuinely considering eating in her dorm. She was undoubtedly sure that those Marauders would be up to something more embarrassing and annoying than the last. After what feels like twenty wishes for her to have a “Happy Lily Evans day!” she was at her limit. They even charmed. the calendars they had written on to play a Fleetwood Mac song whenever she tried to erase it!

How was that even possible?!

As she entered the Great Hall through the giant doors, she was displeased to see that the entire room immediately erupted into applause. Whistles and yelps of “Happy Birthday Lily!” stuck out from the crowd.

She waved shyly at them all, and they cheered louder. She couldn’t help a shocked little giggle of surprise as she rushed to her seat next to her group and all the students resumed to their conversations and eating.

On the table in front of her seat, however, was a cake.

It was breathtaking. A red single layered cake with elegant swirls along the sides sat before her. A large fake Lily flower laid across the top, under it was a message written in a delicate, spirally, cursive, with white icing.

Happy Birthday Lily! It said.

And in the center was a little, pink candle. Flickering with a light on the tip.

She looked around her at Mary and Marlene sat on each of her side.

“Did…did you guys do this? For me?!” She gasped.

“Hmm…I dunno. Did we?” Mary said, looking to the table where those damn Marauders sat.

There he sat, James Potter and his friends with Lillies scattered in their hair. James grinned at her giddily, and she blew him a kiss. She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her when the smile left his face, replaced by a look of shock as he turned to Sirius, shaking him and pointing at her. Sirius just cackled.

Her eyes caught onto Remus, though. And everything clicked.

Little sneak. She thought.

Lily quirked her eyebrow at him, asking him a silent question. But he just smiled smugly and looked away, bringing his glass of pumpkin juice to his lips.

“Well?” Marlene said giddily. “Make a wish!”

Lily pulled her eyes back to her beautiful cake with icing of her favorite color. And she thought of what to ask for.

When she made up her mind, she screwed her eyes shut and wished with all her might as she blew out the pink candle on her cake.

Maybe today wasn’t so bad, she admitted reluctantly to herself. Of course she would never say this out, but she supposed she couldn’t hate James Potter forever.

[ladykatibeth]

Thomas makes it inside (farther than most get) and tries to slay him but immediately loses his sword (a la pick axe scene) and has to make a run for it. He ends up finding Ellen’s room and immediately gets into her good graces by:

1. Treating her like a person to be concerned about rather than a reward for a quest well done.

2. Correctly guessing the cauldron and vials and spell books are hers and getting really curious about it.

3. Still treating her like a gentleman would a lady after realizing she’s a witch.

She “hides him” in her closet and “sneaks him out” he returns regularly to talk to and maybe try to rescue her. Ellen finds the unnecessary heroics all rather charming and romantic and decides to be super vague about what the actual situation is. She basically implies she’s being held captive (she isn’t really) while not actually directly lying about it. To avoid having to give up the game she distracts him with conversation or leads him to the count. They’re both falling in love in the mean time.

He encounters Orlok half the time (when the distraction method fails) (who knows Ellen likes his company and isn’t going to murder him and make her mad but who also isn’t going to tell Thomas that and give up the game on his end either) and then Thomas fails literally immediately every time to slay him and has to flee again.

Usually Thomas just runs off but Orlok also sometimes just randomly forces Thomas to spend time with him doing mundane things to watch him squirm (for example he calls him a rude guest for not staying for dinner and then makes him eat bread). It feels to Thomas like he’s the mouse the cat is toying with because the power Orlok displays in this scenario makes it seem kind of absurd that Thomas is actually escaping and not being let go in all the others.

Eventually after a year or so of this Ellen tells Orlok she’s concerned he might not return to them one day after a maybe prophetic nightmare Thomas is refusing to heed her about and that she’d be devastated if something happened to him. Orlok goes “alright a gift for my dear eternity”, and kind of blocks Thomas inside the castle with scary wolves about it.

Thomas still has no idea what’s going on but figures Orlok has gotten fed up with the rescue/escape attempts and has decided to put more effort into murdering him. Ellen is like “you can just stay in my room with me, he actually can’t come in here without my permission ;)” which is the first big red flag into his captive damsel perception of her, but it’s not enough to break it completely.

At some point after she leaves her room for a while he gets worried for her and wanders off. He then runs into them talking and eating together (well Ellen’s eating, Orlok just has a cup of some sort of red liquid) looking more like a married couple than a captor and prisoner. Orlok is like “don’t just stand there gawking at us like a child, Thomas, sit down at the table” so he does.

He slowly becomes more and more suspicious and then suddenly 30 minutes in Thomas re-evaluates everything (mostly he’s realized that he’s trapped in a castle with a very powerful sorceress and demon who she seems to get along just fine given he’s keeping her here against her will and he lets her have dangerous magic artifacts and potions she could overtake him with and—‘oh my god wait am I the damsel? Oh god I’m the damsel’) and so he has an anxiety attack about it and runs off again.

He climbs out the window and jumps into the moat and gets to the forest but somehow he keeps getting turned around and around and around (he’s traversed this forest competently countless times before). He gets pretty far out but never reaches an exit. Eventually after he’s completely exhausted himself some very recognizable wolves show up who don’t attack him (why don’t they attack him?) and instead just herd him back home.

Ellen meets him outside the castle with an embrace like she knew to expect him there at that exact time and guides him back inside to finish dinner with them. Orlok just gives him a look like “was all that really necessary?” which makes him embarrassed and then irritated about being embarrassed.

They never actually tell him they don’t have malicious intent (whoever gives the game up first loses) but he’s figured out that the worst thing about the situation is he’s not allowed to leave (according to both Ellen and Orlok and not just Orlok apparently) but he’s being fed and clothed and has a nice bed and wants for nothing and a lovely terrifying sorceress and a striking intimidating count with no fear of losing any of it so he’s weirdly okay with it.

Other revelations include:

Count Orlok drinks blood and is apparently something called a vampire? Is that a kind of demon?

Ellen is actually somewhat magically trapped there but it’s from a magic contract thing and it’s in exchange for some power she can’t have without following it.

Orlok is magically bound to the castle (can’t really leave it for more than a week) and Ellen is magically bound to Orlok (per the exchange) he’s kind of her familiar and she’s kind of his thrall/bride/countess. It’s a weird dynamic but they’re both into it.

Also they’re together and have been going at it very frequently even after Thomas got trapped. It’s kind of embarrassing he missed the very obvious signs—like a bite mark on Ellen’s chest he saw because she came onto Thomas after a few months and they’ve also been going at it frequently since. (Orlok is possessive but also planned on keeping Thomas a few months so it’s fine. He plays by “if they’re both mine it’s not a slight but if someone from the outside looks too hard I get to murder them” rules)

Count Orlok is around 600ish (less surprising since he looks undead) much more surprisingly Ellen is also a magically sustained immortal in her 300’s. (Ellen makes Thomas immortal too but never directly tells him—he literally never gets told anything important because it amuses those two when he’s confused. Poor guy).

Once Thomas has stopped trying to make a run for it every ten seconds and is no longer under the impression he might be murdered by the count, Orlok and him start sleeping together. It’s the three of them together more often after that than pairs of two though.

Ellen has Thomas help her with the non-magic required parts of her potions and spells and asks him to go out and gather stuff for her (accompanied by the wolves of course) and Orlok mostly does his own separate thing but randomly pops in to stare at them (weirdo) and leave.

Thomas gets added to the marriage contract (separate from the magic binding thing) and while it’s in German technically it’s phrased so weirdly he doesn’t actually know what it’s for until Orlok calls him his countess a few weeks later and he’s so confused.

Friedrich actually thinks his dear friend Thomas is dead for a while because it slips Thomas’s mind to inform him of his change in living circumstances. Friedrich is stunned to randomly hear someone talk about him being held hostage at a random castle nearby. Friedrich investigates. Thomas stops Ellen and Orlok from killing him and has to explain that yes he’s behing held hostage technically, yes he’s fine with it, no he’s not been enchanted, you can come visit if you want.

Friedrich does for a while until Anna demands to come with. Ellen and Anna immediately become best friends. They all live happily forever after.

The dark fairytale potential of Orlok being the metaphorical dragon (vampire) keeping the damsel (Ellen) in the tower, but she’s also the wizard in the tower trope and he’s her familiar. Thomas thinks he’s the dashing knightly dragon slayer but he’s actually about to become damsel in tower number #2 (instead of dead like those before him) because he’s cute and amusingly pathetically bad at it.

[arcsin27]

Guy that knows very little actual sonic lore and also ships shadamy: I just think Amy should be in sonic movie 3 since she’s important to shadows story and a factor in his arc towards changing and