#i think there’s a really strong tendency across the board to kind of

[bestworstcase]

Anything from Volumes 1-3 that is setup that you don't think is given enough attention or respect for good setup?

Sidenote to this:

Open seat with no person in it + Salem having someone looking for the Choice Relic was hinting at Summer Rose. Did we have anything hinting at her pre Beacon's Fall or just things that she fits given additional context?

regarding summer specifically, while i wouldn’t call them hints per se, there are a handful of beats in v1-3 that smell like foreshadowing to me:

the first is “she was right about you; such arrogance.” – cinder might well be referring to salem here, of course. however. what strikes me about this remark is that arrogance is not a characteristic that salem seems to perceive in ozma; rather she describes him, in her soliloquies and songs, as a self-destructive, deceitful, manipulative fool blinded and trapped by his faith in the old gods. cowardly. fallen from grace. think of what she says to oz in 8.9—look how you’ve diminished, how you’ve lessened yourself—she sees him groveling at the feet of tyrannical monsters and sees debasement.

does it follow for salem to characterize ozpin to cinder as, primarily, arrogant? i’m not convinced it does. but summer rose? well… hm. consider, also, that the full line is “this whole time, right beneath our feet… she was right about you; such arrogance…” <- i think it is more likely than not that “she” is someone inside the brackets of “our,” and in context “our” is either [cinder + ozpin] or [cinder + her associates physically present at beacon].

in the event that “she” is not part of “our” the more naturalistic phrasing is “beneath our feet… salem was right about you” – because “she” otherwise has no antecedent. of course, some allowance here for this to be a narrative choice not to name salem yet, but we’re one (1) episode off from revealing her face and by this point we’ve known for a while that cinder works for someone else, so the choice to drop the name here or in the volume credits is of fairly trivial importance. unless of course cinder isn’t talking about salem.

second: “Oh! We've also stopped some bad guys, too! I guess it's like they say: "like mother, like daughter"! I still wonder why Ozpin let me into the school early…” [laugh track] – obv this part of ruby’s address to summer’s memorial headstone foreshadows ozpin’s conspiracy and team strq’s involvement therein. but it also foreshadows this exchange:

RUBY: We don’t have to kill you to stop you, and we will stop you. SALEM: Your mother said those words to me… she was wrong, too.

and i think it bears pointing out that ruby is wrong here, and later in the volume qrow specifically calls attention to this and lays out why she’s wrong. team rwby didn’t stop the bad guys; they cut off one avenue of attack and cinder circled around from a new direction that took advantage of torchwick’s imprisonment, and this also resulted in the public break between ozpin and ironwood which eroded the cohesion of the inner circle. ergo, ruby thinks she stopped the bad guys but in the long run the consequences of the breach all benefited salem.

looks into the camera like im on the office.

like mother, like daughter!!!

further, that sequence of events ultimately leads to the final confrontation between her and torchwick – wherein he declares “if you can’t beat them, join ’em,” and shortly gets eaten by a grimm right after making it clear that he intends to kill her. torchwick’s death is thematically motivated – a narrative rejection of his cynical every-man-for-himself, dog-eats-dog outlook – but consider that:

summer rose, if she is indeed salem’s willing agent, is certainly at beacon tonight – because she’d be the one who stayed behind to hold the fort.

summer is thus the one salem instructs to “reinforce our numbers at beacon,” meaning the grimm; that instruction only makes sense if the person receiving it can communicate with or command grimm. ergo, summer must have some degree of control over grimm.

ruby is disarmed and on the ground getting beaten by a man who fully intends to kill her, and a grimm swoops down out of nowhere to eliminate him faster than he can blinks. and then… the grimm rears up, roaring at her, and comes down with a sweep of its wings that creates a blast of air that pushes her away. that isn’t aggression!! that’s a defensive threat display!! (the feilong in v4 does the exact same thing – trying to push the boat away). it’s ruby who charges the gryphon, and while it lunges forward in reaction to her charge, all that happens is she gets her feet on its head and pushes off to leap over it, and the grimm goes fucking flying so hard it crashes into the ship’s interior and never emerges. the point being,

math.

it’s plausible that the grimm was drawn to torchwick’s murderous rage. but the way it behaves immediately after it swallows him – that very clear “get away from me please” body language, and ruby -apparently- kicking a grimm the size of a goddamned clydesdale dozens of feet and then through the hull of a literal warship? ruby is strong, but she’s not… that strong. but if the grimm didn’t want to engage her and propelled itself under and past her at the same time as she vaulted off its head? that would explain what happens perfectly – ruby’s kick altered its launch trajectory just enough that it crashed.

minutes later, someone loyal to salem scraped a very badly injured cinder off the top of beacon tower and left ruby alive where qrow would find her. salem’s vested interest in keeping ruby alive is VISIBLE throughout the battle for beacon, and notably include a perfect opportunity to capture her while she’s in a coma atop beacon tower that isn’t taken – suggesting that salem makes her singular attempt to capture ruby solely to reassure cinder that Something is being Done.

and if summer rose has command over grimm and was at beacon that night… the gryphon’s behavior is exactly what i’d expect if all the grimm had marching orders to insure this one girl in particular – the spitting image of their commander – doesn’t come to serious harm. there’s a nonzero chance that gryphon did in fact save ruby On Purpose!

…and that happens in the context of a fight between ruby and the bad guy she thought she stopped (but she was wrong), who joined salem because “if you can’t beat em, join em.” (salem voice) she was wrong, too…

also

<- like mother like daughter. summer had a nevermore’s eye view of the battle for beacon, in this essay i will –

third: this one is something i didn’t really Think About until v9 and specifically the v9 ost dropping, but some of the things cinder says in v2-3 strike me as like – she got that from summer im sure of it. for example, in midnight, cinder’s view of huntsmen is that they’re free, they have power, they can go anywhere and do whatever they want, and rhodes never contradicts this. where did she get “huntsmen and huntresses should conduct themselves with honor and mercy”? who taught her the aspirational moral ideal?

summer rose, maybe.

but in the deeper sense,

where did cinder get the ‘destiny’ conceit? her underlying beliefs about how the world is are a product of her childhood, but the overt framing of fate/destiny isn’t present in midnight; nor has salem ever spoken of destiny and her philosophical views are in many ways a rejection of destiny – salem does not believe in fate, she is the woman who dedicated her life to toppling the gods.

and on close examination this looks like yet another suspiciously summer rose shaped hole!! “you’re special, ruby […] special the way your mom was special […] it was said that those born with silver eyes were destined to lead the life of a warrior.” – in after the fall, ozpin gives coco an entire pep talk whose central conceit is embracing and submitting to the turns of fate – sacrifice “show them gods and deities/blind and keep the people on their knees” & guide my way “you were born to hypnotize them all/they all said their prayers/can you hear me up there?”

cinder, of pyrrha: “people assume she’s fated for victory, when she's really taking fate into her own hands. interesting. add her to the list.” & “it’s not about overpowering the enemy; it’s about taking away what power they have.”

<- that second statement is salem’s strategic doctrine, through and through. but the ‘power’ cinder is talking about here is derived through manipulating the perception of destiny; the self-fulfilling prophecy. the invincible girl cannot be touched because she makes subtle adjustments to insure that no one is able to try. it is pyrrha’s belief in destiny that destroys her, as it destroys ozma. ozpin invokes fate to justify and explain his choices. those born with silver eyes are destined to lead the lives of warriors.

summer rose was destined to live and die fighting the grimm – so the world promised her. maybe she believed, maybe she felt like she had no choice but to accept her prescribed fate. until she met salem, and took fate into her own hands. made a choice. broke the chains. it’s about taking away what power they have, like salem did when she tore the scales from summer’s eyes, like summer did when she refused her destiny and joined hands with the grimm instead.

what does summer rose look like through cinder’s eyes? she was a huntress. she was literally destined to be one of the greatest huntresses in history, a hero, the shining pillar upholding the world order that chose the enslavement of children as a fair price for peace. fate dictated that she be the icon, the idol, the embodiment of the system that brutalized and subjugated cinder – she had every privilege cinder could ever dream of, freedom and security and a home, a loving family – and she chose to walk away.

and if they talked about that like, ever, and specifically if summer talked about that warrior’s destiny as a cage, a curse she had to escape – is it any wonder that cinder would adopt that framing to make sense of what happened to her? if summer rose was fated to stand at the pinnacle, then does it not follow that cinder fall was fated to be ground into the foundations? and likewise, if summer rose can shatter her pedestal and fall from grace, then cinder fall can shatter her chains and rise. summer proves that the idea of destiny is powerful but not inviolate. and it is hollow, it is a lie, a fiction, and that means it can be taken away. revealed as a deception. destroyed.

anyway

to the broader question

i think people really, really do not give the jaundice arc enough credit for the long-term set up it’s doing.

(or the very overt textual statement from THE HISTORY PROFESSOR! placing the blame for the violent radicalization of the white fang squarely on human bigotry and persecution of faunus in general; the white fang arc is clunky and hamstrung by the inadequacy of its vocabulary, but the fandom talking point that the narrative perspective on this subject has “evolved” or “improved” is just. not true. v1 is very emphatically clear that 1. terroristic violence is not activism, 2. ascribing the terroristic violence of a few to an entire minority group to rationalize bigotry is bigoted in and of itself and completely unacceptable, and 3. violent radicalization is created through relentless discrimination and hate, which creates a self-reinforcing circle wherein the justifiable outrage of the persecuted outgroup and the extreme violent reactions provoked by the persecution are distorted into a justification for further persecution by those of the in-group who materially benefit from perpetuating this cycle!!! all of this is explained in an almost afterschool special manner by the main character faunus rights activist and the history professor!!! in volume one!!! what changed is that the writers developed the skill and vocabulary necessary to weave these ideas into their storytelling in a more effective and more cogent way!!! literally begging the rwby fandom to start listening to the actual words the characters say)

ahem. the jaundice arc lays so much of the groundwork for jaune’s and ruby’s character arcs reaching all the way to v9 and undoubtedly beyond; it sets up the first pieces of the ozlem fractal; it foreshadows the white fang arc and sets up blake’s character arc of self-reclamation and figuring out how she wants to use her voice as an activist; it draws attention to the misogynistic cultural norms that define and are defined by the history between ozma and salem; it lays the foundation for the scene in v2 where ozpin questions blake, which hits the way it does because we have the context of anti-faunus harassment occurring openly at ozpin’s school and nobody doing anything about it, and by extension is the first stroke of the salem-faunus connection that is almost certainly the keystone holding the entire narrative together because it is her relation to the faunus that provides the key to decipher the lost fable.

the jaundice arc is a crucial load-bearing pillar that supports the entire narrative and people revile it because nobody in this fandom can be fucking normal about jaune. lmao

[mybullshitsensesaretingling]

A Vulcan Smile Part Seven

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six]

Jim looked up from his computer as the door to his ready room swished open. He had stolen away to the ship to get some much-needed quiet to review his notes before his next meeting. A quiet he was surprised to see emanating from his best friend as he made his way across the room. 

Leonard typically preferred to make his presence in a room known, entering with a joke or a complaint or some kind of combination of the two. Now he took a seat across from Jim in complete silence. The captain looked him over, trying to identify where this change was coming from. He wore crumpled shirt and an unreadable expression.

"Is that the same uniform as yesterday?" Jim finally asked. 

"Didn't have time to change."

"You've been off duty for twelve hours, Bones. How long does it take? You wear the same thing everyday," Jim pointed out.

"I was helping Joanna with her homework and then," Leonard's voice dropped slightly, "I was with (Y/N)."

Jim’s brows raised. "Were you?"

"Apologizing," Leonard clarified. 

"And what did you do that required you to apologize all night long?" Jim's words tiptoed around innuendo. 

"Joanna was suspended for starting a fight."

"So you were apologizing for your part in bringing another angry McCoy into the universe," Jim guessed. 

"I didn't react well to the news," Leonard admitted. "Started a fight of my own." 

"That doesn't sound like you," Jim said sarcastically. 

“I blamed her. Told her that Joanna was picking up violant tendencies from her,” Leonard explained. 

Jim let out a disappointed breath. He didn’t know you well, but he had heard so much about you through long winded, sporadic rants from Leonard that he could guess how well that went over. He certainly knew enough about people in general to know that wasn’t something you said to someone who cared gor your child. 

“She blamed me. Told me Joanna was acting out because she’s hurt that I left and doesn’t know how to express it.” Leonard slumped back in the chair. “Apparently I don’t put in enough effort as a father.” 

“Well,” Jim started pointedly. He raised his brows and tilted his head, hoping if he made a strong enough facial expression he wouldn’t have to finish the thought out loud.

“When were you planning to tell me you though I was a bad father?” 

Jim let out a breathy chuckle at his friends dramatics. “I don’t think you’re a bad father. I think that (Y/N) spends a lot of time with Joanna and if she thinks she’s feeling a little abandoned then she might know what she’s talking about.” 

Leonard sighed. “I know.”

“What are you going to do about it?” 

“I already apologized.” 

This earned Leonard a look that told him he needed to do better than that.  

“I suppose I don’t really have a choice.” 

“Not if you ever want to be able to respect yourself again.” 

Leonard groaned and rubbed a hand across his face. “I’m not cut out for this.” 

“You said the same thing the first time you had to work on a ship. Now look at you.” 

“Now look at me,” Leonard repeated in a defeated tone.

“You know-” Jim waited until his friend was looking at him again to finish, “Centaurus isn’t that far out of our way.” 

“Oh no.” Leonard shook his head and held up a hand. “This ship is on red alert every other thursday. My eleven year old isn’t going to be involved in that.” 

“We’d be taking a similar course to the shuttle. Any dangers we run into they’d probably run into too. Wouldn’t you prefer she run into them with you?” 

“I’d rather she not be in space at all, but seeing as I wasn’t given a choice in that…” Leonard trailed of, thinking it over. “You wouldn’t mind the detour?” 

“Not at all.” 

“You know letting my daughter and Spock’s sister loose on this ship might lead to more chaos than we’re prepared for.” 

Jim shook his head. “Spock’s gonna hate this.” 

“You don’t have to convice me, Jim. I’m alread on board.” 

-

“Tell me again,” Leonard ordered as he walked with Joanna to the Enterprise. 

“The warp core, jefferies tubes, and bridge are off limits. If red lights start flashing I am to stay in my room. If I hear the word ‘anomoly’ over the comms, I am to find you in the sickbay. If I see more than five people in uniform running in the halls I am to find Ms. Grayson and wait for the all clear. No wandering the halls or entering the recreation deck or holodeck alone. No fun of any kind,” Joanna rattled off. 

“Good. Stick to those rules and you should make it back home in one piece.” 

“Can’t I have a little fun?” 

“Being a passenger on the Enterprise is-” 

“Not a reward for punching my classmate even if he is a shithead and desereved it,” she parroted the words he’d used when he explained the arrangement to her. “I’ve gotten like two lectures a day since I was suspended, thrown up on during a shuttle ride here, and given four times the calc homework I would normally have. Haven’t I been punished enough?” 

“We’re not punishing you. We’re making sure you’ve learned your lesson. We don’t want you to turn into a violent drop out with no direction in life and a long arrest record.” 

“You’re say ‘we’ a lot about you and Ms. Grayson,” she pointed out. 

“Oh look! Lieutenant Uhura.” Leonard quickly changed the subject, coming to a stop outside the air lock where the Lieutenant was standing. “Waiting for Spock?” 

“He’s just saying goodbye.” She nodded over to where he stood with you and Serek. 

“Good might be a stretch,” Leonard mumbled. 

“Who are they talking to?” Joanna asked. 

“The Vulcan ambassador,” Nyota answered. 

“They don’t seem to like him.” 

“It’s a complicated relationship,” she said, watching the three of you hold up Vulcan salutes. 

As the ambassador turned and boarded another ship, you folded down you pinky and ring finger and lifted your raised fingers to your temple. Your head jerked to the side as you pretended to shoot yourself in the head. To Leonard's suprise, Spock used his hand to wipe your imaginary blood from the side of his face. 

The two of you walked in silence to meet the others. You both had your hands clasped behind your back, but as you got closer yours moved to swing at your side. 

Uhura watched the way Leonard smiled and then stiffened awkwardly as you approached.

“Come on let’s get out of here before Spock and I are used as a visual aid in another debate about the future of the Vulcan race,” you said when you reach them. “If I get called V’tosh ka’tur one more time, I’m going to start throwing things.” 

“That kind of behavior is exactly why they call you V’tosh ka’tur,” Spock pointing out.

“Don’t call your sister a Vulcan without logic, Spock,” Uhura chastised. 

“Thank you. Wanting to throw things at those stuffy, xenophobic elders is completely logical,” you argued. “And besides they call you V’tosh ka’tur too.” 

Spock mouth dropped open. “I am not V’tosh ka’tur. I follow the ancestral teachings.” 

“But you stink like a human.” 

“You are using nasal supresants. You don’t know what I smell like.” 

Leonard leaned forward and took a wiff. “No, she’s right. Just like a human.” 

You smiled at the doctor. “This is going to be a fun little trip.” 

Joanna grinned. Spock’s jaw tightened.

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Stalker X Stalker, Part 11

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Perma tag: @nathleigh @peachmuses

Stalker x Stalker taglist: @aespades @jayjayspixiepop @blueslushgueen @fan-written @seraphichana @nerd-nowandforever @toodaloo-kangaroo

Plot? What's that? I only know domestic fluff

She really didn’t know what to think when Tim asked to move in for a second time the next morning.

On the one hand, it felt like she was taking advantage of him. He’d seen her get shot and she doubted he’d really thought rationally since.

On the other hand… he essentially lived there already and it would do a lot to alleviate the anxiety the both of them had...

She rubbed her eyes -- ha, as if she hadn’t been awake the whole night to make sure he hadn’t had nightmares -- for an excuse to look away while she thought. What should she do? She would be lying if she said she didn’t want him to move in, she knew that was clouding her judgement, but even if she recognized her bias it wasn’t easy to just put it aside.

She sighed lightly and lowered a hand from her eyes. Tim looked really cute after having just woken up with his hair all messy and his eyes half lidded and one of his cheeks slightly flatter where he’d been resting his head against her and who can really say no to that face?

… well, Marinette supposed that would allow both of them to relax a little...

She let her hands drop to rest on top of his.

“Sure, darling. If you want you can move in… but, if you ever want to move out, I won’t stop you. Just ask.”

He cracked a tiny smile. “The only time I’d ever move out of this place is if you were changing apartments.”

She snickered. “Where I go, you go?”

“You have no idea,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “You bats and your dumb cryptic sentences. Would it kill you guys to ever say a single thing directly?”

“Yes. I’m pretty sure that I would drop dead on the spot.”

Her lips twitched. “Oh yeah? Heart attack or sniper?”

“Can’t tell you. I would drop dead on the spot.”

“Damn. Foiled again by the… mystery cause of death!”

The smile on Tim’s face brightened and he looped his arms around her. “You’d save me.”

“Oh? And miss out on my chance to get that rich boy money you probably gave me in your will?”

He schooled his face back into a serious look. “I see. I’ll have to write you out of my will, then. Make sure you bring me back.”

“Nooooooooo! My scheme! Ruined! Now how will I become a millionaire without trying?!”

They looked at each other for a few seconds, his face purposefully smug and hers pinched into a frown…

And then they broke character, giggles falling from their lips and smiles lighting up their faces. She tipped her head forward until it rested against his chest. He squeezed her tighter.

Then, to her surprise, he flopped back on the couch, pulling her with him. “Alright, sleepy time,” he said cheerfully.

“Darling --.”

“You didn’t sleep last night. Sleep.”

She pressed against his chest until she could sit up just enough to glare at him. “I have super strength. May not be as strong as Connor or anything but I can definitely get away from you if I wanted.”

“Of course.” A smug look made its way across his face. “But you wouldn’t hurt your darling, would you?”

She glared harder despite the slight reddening of her cheeks. His smirk didn’t waver.

Marinette huffed and dropped back down. “You’re the worst.”

“You love me.”

She didn’t respond to that, instead just grumbling ‘pillows don’t talk’ and letting herself finally nod off.

~

Having two perfectionists trying to figure out the layout of a limited living space might not have been their brightest idea. They should have, at least, gotten someone to help.

Instead they had brought out Marinette’s tape measure and mapped out the entire apartment on a sheet of paper and then made tiny shapes for the furniture. Now, they sat at the table, obsessively moving pieces around.

It could have been worse, of course. Neither of them were the type to hoard things. He wasn’t all that concerned with anything other than his clothes and his laptop. Marinette only cared about her clothes, video games, and baking tools -- all of which could be tucked away in the provided closets and cabinets with ease. If needed they could probably get by with nothing but a dresser and a pull out bed each.

So, yeah, their own personal living styles weren’t the problem…

It was their work. Who knew their workaholic tendencies would be their downfall (besides everyone, of course)? She needed a lot of space for her fabrics and mannequins to make sure nothing got damaged. Tim would need a lot of space for his supercomputer if he didn’t want to make the long trip to Bristol every night.

Speaking of the trip to Bristol! He needed a place to put his motorbike and his suit. Shit. He could find a place to park his bike if he tried, but… he started cutting out a piece for the suit.

Marinette saw him adding more stuff and her head hit the table.

He snickered a little and poked her hair until she, however reluctantly, picked her head back up to send him a halfhearted glare. He smiled, reaching over and plucking the tiny square of paper from where it had stuck itself to her forehead. A blush spread across her cheeks.

Then she happened to glance down and her annoyance was back in full force.

“We didn’t think this through,” she said.

His smile became more strained as he looked down at their map. “Moving sounds so easy on paper.”

“Maybe it’s easier for people who don’t have such complicated lives.”

“Yeah. You’re right. I’m quitting.”

“Aw, but then I’ll lose my patrol buddy! I’ll have to do everything with your siblings instead.”

His nose scrunched up. “God, no. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please, you love your siblings.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t know they’re the worst.”

She looked like she was going to argue, but then she tipped her head and nodded. “True.”

He snickered.

Their smiles disappeared quickly as they looked back at the layout of the apartment. Could they even fit all their stuff?

… wait, actually, could they?

He started shuffling things in and he realized that, if they wanted to have space to walk, there wasn’t enough room. No wonder they’d had so much trouble finding a layout that would work. It was literally impossible. They needed more space.

She hesitated slightly. “... what if we bought out the apartment next to this one for work? It could even double as a backup in case you ever decide you want to have a place of your own again.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Can we do that?”

“You’re rich, you could probably figure it out.”

He rolled his eyes. “I mean, yes, we can technically kick out the people next door but I’d kind of prefer if we didn’t displace random families.”

“I mean… we could always…” She made a stabbing motion.

He couldn’t laugh at that. Laughing at that would be bad. So he wouldn’t do that.

“Bean -- Mari -- no.”

“I’m just saying! We’d even get the apartment at a discount!”

Okay, he might have laughed a little.

… they didn’t end up stabbing anyone but, hey, if the family next door happened to get some huge scholarship courtesy of The Wayne Foundation that they didn’t remember applying for with the stipulation that they would have to move districts... then they just so happened to have a lucky break. Good for them.

Which meant that they only really needed to buy a desk, a dresser, and a bed.

So they went to Ikea! A boring place where no shenanigans ever happen!

… well, no shenanigans ever happen if you’re not a pair of vigilantes that bounce bad ideas off of each other like they were playing a particularly intense game of Don’t Let The Balloon Touch The Ground and the entire world would blow up if they dared to lose.

Speaking of things that touch the ground, the resident dumbasses should probably have kept their feet firmly planted on it.

Marinette squinted down the escalator. “Oh, they’re definitely going to kick us out.”

“Definitely,” he agreed.

“Maybe arrested.”

“Maybe that, too,” he said brightly, checking the pot over his head to make sure it wouldn’t come off.

“... the PR team is going to hate us,” she warned him.

“Absolutely.” He could feel the gaze on the back of his head, telling him that the employees had noticed them and, quite likely, knew what they were planning. “Ready?”

A grin spread across her face. “Of course.”

He smirked. “Good, because they’re coming.”

She glanced back at the employees making their way over to interfere.

“Threetwoonego!”

He pushed off with his foot, relishing in her indignant yelp, and grinned widely as he started the very bumpy ride that was snowboarding down an escalator. He’d thought he’d be more or less okay because he had been a skateboarder but it turns out that boarding down moving stairs is very different from boarding down flat planes. He let loose a string of curses as he struggled to hold the plank of wood to his feet and not die a very painful, very stupid death.

Marinette came whizzing past him, eyes wide and the tray she’d been using as a board somehow missing.

She met his eyes briefly and flashed a grin.

And then they crashed.

It was about as painful as one would expect. Tim was glad that he’d thought to give himself a pot-helmet-thing because it had cracked down the middle and he didn’t even want to think about what would have happened if he hadn’t done that.

And he was the lucky one. He got out with a few bruises and a better appreciation for his own life. Marinette was nursing an arm that looked like it was trying to imitate the escalator they had just slid down, lips pressed together tightly as tears threatened to escape.

He carefully crawled over to check for any other injuries that might have been less noticeable.

She grinned up at him, either because he was currently checking to see if her teeth were all in place or to be smug. What she could currently be smug about, though, he had no clue…

“You’re so stupid,” he told her, just in case she wasn’t already aware.

Her smug grin remained even after he had removed the finger from her mouth. “You’re just mad that I won.”

“... sorry?” He hadn’t even been thinking about their impromptu race, too concentrated on the whole ‘making sure they hadn’t just died’ thing, and it took a moment for his brain to catch up. Then he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, won a pretty new cast, maybe.”

She snickered. “You had to cheat and you still didn’t even win. How does it feel to suck?”

“Probably still better than it feels to have a broken arm.”

She sat up. “It’s fine, I’ll live.”

He snorted. “You bet you will. I’m going to bubble wrap the whole apartment.”

“You can’t babyproof the place! We don’t even have kids yet!”

Before he could question her use of the word ‘yet’, the employees managed to get their attention. They were trying to get down the currently very broken escalator and the one that was currently going the wrong way for them. Despite this, the two of them had only a minute max before they reached them.

Marinette and Tim locked eyes.

“Run?” She suggested.

He was already getting to his feet. He dropped a business card for the employees and turned to her.

He grabbed her good hand and they sprinted out of the store, smiles lighting up their faces and laughter spilling from their lips. The poor employees hadn’t stood a chance of catching the two vigilantes, even injured as they were. They knew the city like the back of their hands and were able to weave in and out of side streets and alleyways without much thought.

Once they were sure that no one was following them -- leaving a store unattended in Gotham was a terrible idea and Tim had left a card for them to call -- she tugged him to hide between two buildings.

They squeezed into the tiny space and leaned into each other for support while they struggled to catch their breath. Her good hand came up to grip his shirt. He rested his forehead against the wall above her.

She lifted her gaze to his and he wished she hadn’t because he’d already been out of breath enough before she’d done that but now here was staring into her blue eyes, the corners crinkled in a way that had become so familiar to him over the past few months, and god… all he could think about was all the stories that described how time stopped when you fell in love… and how those stories couldn’t be more wrong. He would have hated for that to happen because if time stopped then he would have to see that perfect smile of hers in anything but real time and he doubted that it would have looked nearly as beautiful without the way her shoulders shook with barely restrained laughter or the slight fluttering of her lashes or the steady pinkening of her cheeks.

She finally gave a little puff of laughter. “What?”

He blinked once, trying to bring himself back to what was going on. “Oh, I was just thinking…”

“Oh? Don’t strain yourself.”

He smiled. “I was just going to say something nice but instead I’ll insult you on your stealth. You’d be a terrible criminal, laughing during your getaway.”

She rolled her eyes. “You laughed, too.”

“Yeah, but when I did it it was super cool and professional.”

“Ah, I see. How could I not have noticed it before?”

He snickered. “Well, if today has proved anything, it’s that you are not, in fact, the world’s greatest detective.”

She grinned. “You were the one that put the pot on my head originally.”

“You came up with the idea to go down the escalators like that.”

“You agreed.”

“You -- I -- shut up,” he complained, sending her a glare.

She smiled at him until he pretty much had no choice but to smile back, letting his head fall the last few inches to press his forehead against hers.

Her hand gripped his shirt a little tighter.

He moved his hands from the wall to her waist.

They stood there, letting time pass them by, searching each other's eyes for some sort of answer to the question neither of them could bring themselves to ask aloud. He bit his lip, trying to swallow down his anxiety.

Her eyes flicked to his lips, her own parted as if to say something, before she seemed to think better of it.

She closed the gap. His heart skipped a beat at the feather-soft feeling of her lips against his and he let his eyes flutter shut. She teased his lip out from between his teeth with her own.

And then she pulled back just slightly.

He opened his eyes just enough to see her shy smile and the blush lighting up her face.

“You… you really have to stop doing that. They’ll get chapped --.”

He pressed forward again, capturing her lips in a kiss that was far more desperate than the last. She gasped quietly and he took the chance to slip his tongue into her mouth. The hand fisted in his shirt slid up to wrap around the back of his neck, dragging him even closer. He pressed her back against the wall, a hand trailing up to tangle itself in her hair, trying to reach more --.

She brought her bad arm up to cradle his face and then yelped in pain.

He jumped back. Right. Broken arm. Looks like a staircase. Not good.

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Uh… let’s get you treated.”

~

Marinette ended up with a pink cast and an order to stay home for at least a week.

She pouted, resting her head back against the couch as she watched him shuffle around in search of his second shoe (it was tucked behind her back, but he didn’t need to know that). “I’m not a child, you guys can’t just ground me,” she complained for what felt like the millionth time.

Tim rolled his eyes. “We all have to do it when we break bones unless it’s an all hands on deck situation. Been like that since even before I was Robin.”

“But B goes out with broken bones all the time!”

“That’s different.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“It is. If there is a situation where B can be a hypocrite he will do it”

Marinette scoffed. “And you’re allowed out because…?”

He started counting off on his fingers. “None of my bones are broken, my job requires me to leave, I don’t get in trouble 9/10 times I leave the house… should I go on?”

“Last one is a lie,” she mumbled.

“No, I only get in trouble, like, 8/10 times I leave.”

It was hard to maintain her glare. She settled for sticking her tongue out at him like the mature adult she was. He returned it, despite the fact that he was also an adult according to the law.

He grinned and came to sit next to her on the couch. She shifted around until she was leaning against him instead of the couch, legs tangling with his.

He didn’t say anything about the blatant attempt at trapping him there with her. Instead, he leaned closer to her face and said: “Speaking of leaving, do you happen to know where my other shoe is?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Why do I get the feeling that you already know where it is?”

He snickered. “I know you, Bean. So, can I have it back?”

“Hm… I don’t know…” she said, twirling his tie around her hand.

He let her pull him down for a kiss. She giggled against his lips as his hands ghosted over her in search of the missing shoe. She kept her good hand at his collar as a kind of silent promise that she wouldn’t -- couldn’t -- move the shoe, even throwing her bad arm around his neck just in case.

He pulled away a few moments later, squinting at her suspiciously. “I’m beginning to suspect I’ve been tricked.”

Her eyes widened in mock innocence. “Me? Trick you? I could never.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, where is it?”

She glanced at the time and smirked. “I guess you’ve earned it…” She pulled her foot out from between the couch cushions to show him the shoe she had hastily slipped on when he’d gotten close.

He scoffed lightly and slipped it off. “Y’know, if I had literally one of the most common fetishes in the world that wouldn’t have worked.”

“But you don’t, so it did,” she chirped with a cheeky grin.

“Guess that’s true…” He pecked her lips one last time before pulling his shoe on and she grinned as she watched him head to the door.

Only to stop a little short because of a knock.

He raised his eyebrows and glanced back. “Are one of my siblings coming over?”

She pressed her lips together thinly to keep herself from laughing. “It’s not any of their normal times. I just figured that, if I had to be home alone all day and couldn’t really do any work because my stupid cast, I should at least keep busy while you were gone.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. He stepped forward and opened the door to reveal a delivery guy with three giant boxes. The furniture they had ordered from Ikea had arrived.

He signed for them and then turned to glare at her. “You planned all this so I couldn’t go.”

“I mean… you could always leave me here to do them myself.” She batted her eyelashes at him innocently. “Of course, my broken arm will make it a little difficult but I’m sure I’ll manage.”

She had been stared down by Batman in full kevlar, she could handle the glare Tim gave her in his slightly messy work suit.

Then, he sighed. “Do you have a backup plan?”

“Obviously. Don’t think you’ll like that one as much.”

He scowled. “You’re really this determined to not be home alone?”

“Oh, no, this is about getting B to allow me out. Trapping you and your siblings here is just a means to that end.”

“You’re going to be trapping my siblings here, too?”

She grinned. “Yep. They show up all the time, might as well use that.”

His shoulders slumped a little.

She giggled. “If I have to stay inside all the time then so do you guys. It’s the rules.”

And, so, she reached for him until he pressed a short kiss to her lips.

Then, they got to work. Or, rather, he did. She had been relegated to just sitting nearby and helping him figure out how to build it.

She took a few pictures for their public accounts as necessary: a picture of him with three screws poking out of his mouth while he tried to figure out the weird L-shaped tool he’d been given, a picture of the two of them staring at the instruction sheet with confused frowns on their faces (taken by Tikki), Vanelope enjoying the boxes the stuff had come in, what was definitely not a thirst pic of Tim, and then the finished furniture in the apartment.

It was there, right before she was about to post it, that she realized that she hadn’t actually publicly followed any of the Waynes. She squinted at her bio, which proclaimed that she would only follow people she genuinely liked, and then at the ten people she had followed. The internet would notice if she suddenly followed eight more people.

“Darling?”

He peeked an eye open from where he was relaxing on the couch and then raised an arm for her. She took his hand and smiled a little when he pulled her into his lap so he could hug her like a pillow.

Then she pulled a more serious look to her face. “Do you want to go public or not?”

He buried his face in her neck. “Sure.”

“... not even gonna think about it?”

He shrugged. “They’re going to suspect it no matter what. Especially since we were goofing around in an Ikea of all places and you’re uploading pictures of me helping you with furniture.”

She nodded slightly. “I know, but I don’t have to upload them.”

There was a long silence as they considered their options.

Eventually he just sighed and tightened his grip on her. “I’ll go with anything you want to do, Bean.”

She relaxed slowly and, hesitantly, she sent him the photos. “Here, you can upload them, too. Might as well make it public on both of our accounts.”

He picked his head up slightly to check out the pictures. She felt his lips curl into a smile against her shoulder at the picture of Vanelope. “This one is nice.”

She snickered. “All cats are cute, obviously it would make a nice picture.”

He hummed his agreement. “No offense to you, you’re cute and all, but the cat definitely wins the cutest here.”

“I’m not offended at all. We could never beat that.”

Then, she got an idea.

“Except… maybe… want a picture of us kissing for the reveal?”

“I’ll take any excuse,” he said with a wink.

She rolled her eyes even as she felt her face warm. “You don’t need an excuse to kiss me, dumbass.”

Now it was his turn to blush. Yay, revenge.

… also, it would be cute for the picture if they were both a little red for it.

She twisted in his lap to press a kiss to his lips. His hands came up to cradle her face. She threw her bad arm around his neck, fingers threaded in his hair.

Her camera clicked. They ignored it.

[analysis-by-a-muffin]

YGO Analysis: Protagonists and Rivals, the Pivotal Relationship (Part 1)

There are a variety of relationship archetypes that come with any genre. Their importance, meanings, and depiction come with a strong and wide variety even from within their own genres or franchises. Rivalries are a constant across several media; only coming with different faces depending on the reason for the competition between two characters. Action movies, shows, etc tend to have major rivalries between the protagonist and a character that is both their opposite and their equal (whether or not they’re actually an equal truly depends on the piece of content but shhh). This relationship can be a strong driving point of plot related events, and one of the finest examples of that is the Yu-Gi-Oh franchise with its growing number of rival relationships that are distinctive in their own ways— even while they’re following a very set pattern.

General Overview

Compared to many other rivalries— in shounen works especially— there’s a lot about the way Yu-Gi-Oh goes about theirs that struck a surprising chord with me. Thankfully, each spinoff doesn’t give the viewer an exact clone of the rivalry that started it all, regardless of how popular Seto Kaiba and Pharaoh Atem are. There’s also a notable lack of anything feeling generic or far too in line with tropes, following them safely down to a T. Each one has a flavor that allows for viewers to have their own favorites which can range from cold and intense to warm and soft.

Duel Monsters crafted certain characteristics and behaviors within each dynamic.

Obsession: Each rival has a focus on the protagonist that they don’t really give to any other character. The intensity of it changes with each pair, however, and can sometimes involve stalking the main character, oftentimes thinking about them, or more mildly, simply talking about them a lot in private to someone else. Another staple to their obsessive behavior is going to absurd lengths to get the attention of the protagonist, something which they’ve displayed as a thing the rival can get pretty greedy for.

Plot Importance: If a YGO series isn’t well made or structured, the main rivalry is likely not going to be a very good one. When done spectacularly, their relationship can be what causes major events to unfold and hinge on which is par for the course with this franchise. Basically, rivalry quality and series quality play very important roles.

Friendship: Typically, they start out as enemies or strangers. Whatever it is, they’re not on great terms right away, but through a connection/understanding of each other that no others have, they become unlikely (and even unconventional) friends. Their bond is meant to be seen as one of the strongest in each series and are often each other’s greatest influence. On top of all of that, it’s normally the protagonist who longs to befriend the clearly broken inside rival. Which has a high tendency to end up with them being upset at offers to help and understand them being harshly rejected.

Soulful Connection: Duel Monsters is a card game with in-universe lore heavily pertaining to duelists’ souls, and the concept of them in general. It’s no surprise that the protagonists and rivals can end up with bonds that cause them to feel like soulmates. Yet, there are times when that connection becomes extremely apparent and more overt. First duels between them tend to have the protagonist being able to read the rival, seeing parts of him that don’t line up with what he says and leaving them to wonder why they’re so closed off or who made them act this way. Of course, this comes as a huge shock to the rival along with their ego. This in turn fuels the need to aid the rival; meanwhile, this character zeroes in on the protagonist.

Key Similarities: Regardless of how seemingly dissimilar they can be in beliefs, attitudes, intelligence, and their very dueling styles, these two are meant to have something that draws them to each other unlike anyone else. This showcases a common unbreakable thread that keeps them bound. It can be anything from pride to shared background experiences to having a hidden heart of gold.

Paralleled Features: Red versus blue is an age old trope that makes itself known in YGO. If the two aren’t clearly in line with that, they have several other opposing color differences such as one wearing darker colors while the other wears lighter ones. One of each of them could also be paler than the other either slightly or blatantly.

Sun/Moon, Light/Dark: Another common trope, that comes with some diverseness across the board. The protagonist can be made out to be something bright and life-saving similar to the sun, and this can be openly stated or strong hints to this can be thrown in. In the eyes of the rival, the protagonist can be seen as their light in the darkness. Someone who thrills them, serving as this unique person who can make them feel more alive and can even stop them from sinking too deep into metaphorical darkness.

Respect and Trust: These two are cornerstones of every dynamic. Without them, everything falls apart. The rival has a lot of difficulty navigating the idea of trusting others but commands respect he often doesn’t receive. The protagonist comes in to teach them better and be a guiding force much like with aiding them in friendship.

Separately, the rivals share traits modeled after Kaiba.

A lust for power (usually the result of never having any true power in their own lives)

A physical design that depicts them as being bigger, taller, and overall more masculine (in a few cases they’re even a year or two older)

Dramatics in their gestures, speech, fashion sense, dueling methods, and interests

A cold and aloof personality in which their stoic nature causes problems in whatever relationships they have

Cards are mainly very imposing and dark creatures

Difficulty with honesty and containing aggressive feelings

Being a part of a higher social or economic class (something which weighs on them and can be the source of a huge portion of their grief)

Dueling style will almost exclusively be focused on dominating the opponent through beat down

Experiencing a tragedy that forever changes parts of themselves in ugly ways

Protagonists are similar to Yugi and/or Atem, but unlike their less kind and closed off counterparts, there're plenty of times in which they’ve deviated far from the norm.

A more open heart to kindness and letting people get close, along with the urge to help others

Designs make them smaller and shorter than their rivals with a softer appearance that welcomes instead of rejects

A warmth and hope that can irritate the rival

Are more likely to use cards that feature cute monsters

Tragedy can strike them, but it’s treated like a source of strength or something that greatly influences what they do (can come with less hurtful coping mechanisms)

[There seems to be a common tactic when it comes to hiring the Japanese voice actors for the protagonists. They don’t have the experience of several roles, and voicing a YGO lead character is their first big hit].

These dynamics are easily my favorite part of each series, and one of the things I look towards the most when a new series is announced. Finally taking the time to write out an analysis and composing my thoughts feels nice. The next parts will be dedicated to actually looking at the specific relationships instead of talking about them generally.

[rotworld]

Voice and Style

an anon asked:

Do you have any tips for learning how to write in a different writing style?

and honestly i just went off the rails lmfao this is a long post, but hopefully it's useful. i wasn't 100% sure what you meant by style, but i assume you mean more along the lines of "voice" than the difference between like narrative, persuasive, etc. but let me know if you meant something else! what i'm going to do is 1) talk about voice in writing, 2) author voice vs character voice and examples, and 3) actually answer the question. i promise 1 and 2 are relevant to get to 3!

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to start we need to break down what "voice" is. this is a term that gets thrown around a lot when people talk about writing, and i've heard people get a little heated about it lol but i'll give my take at least. there are actually two kinds of voice: the writer's voice, and character voice. we'll start by focusing on the former.

describing an author's voice is tricky, because it's largely subjective. some parts of it are concrete and easy to analyze, while others are down to the author's personality, perspective, and life experience. while it is something that you continue to hone as you gain experience, it isn't something you can measure or "rank" comparatively. so...what the hell is it lol

if we boil it down to the simplest components, here's what i think goes into voice: tone, syntax, word choice, and perspective. this isn't all that voice is, but these are the fundamental building blocks, and the way you use them is a mix of personal preference/affinity, your level of experience as a writer, and who you are outside of writing.

->tone is often described as the "attitude" of your writing, the mood you evoke with a combination of the other components. in "twelve moments in the life of an artist," david sedaris recounts his struggles with an attempt at an art career and a meth addiction, simultaneously. the subject matter is difficult and emotionally distressing, but because it's sedaris writing it, it's fucking hilarious. it's funny because of the tone, the ridiculous statements he makes, the witty observations and the flippant way he describes things. someone else could write the same story and make it a dramatic tragedy, but sedaris' tone is one of humor.

->syntax is the way a writer constructs their sentences. i know this sounds boring lol but it can play a huge role in a writer's voice. when do you use long and complex sentences versus short and simple ones? do you use repetition, and for what purpose? when do you use active or passive voice? for example, "the monster bit him" vs "he was bitten by the monster." these sentences mean the same thing but have a subtle difference in where the focus is. these might seem like small, insignificant details, but they can drastically change how a work sounds. the rhythm of your writing also ties into syntax.

->word choice is just how it sounds: what words do you use when you write? are you more of a "purple prose" type who likes flowery, detailed descriptions, or are you more sparse and "beige?" do you use certain phrases of colloquialisms?

->perspective is straightforward, too. do you like or have a tendency for 1st, 2nd or 3rd person? there's some variation in 3rd person, too, like omniscient 3rd or close 3rd. i think a writer's strength and preference in this, as well as when they deviate, also contributes to their voice.

but what about character voice? this is kind of similar, but limited to specific characters and how you portray them. it includes their dialogue and word choice but also their perspective or worldview, their opinions, and their personality expressed by their interactions. it's the kind of thing that differentiates characters speaking even without a speech tag to label them. there might be really extreme differences between character voices and the author's voice, depending on the character.

i always feel kind of narcissistic using my own work as an example lmao but i think changeling is a good example, since each passage is super focused on a particular character and their perspective. in first person, or close 3rd like this, a character voice can come out in narration. huntress sounds like this:

The hunt ends. Her catch, meager. Still, she will not waste it. Wolf Mother travels far to see the meat put to good use.

She walks the crossroads, strange paths through the strange world. Sniffs out the road she needs and steps through thick fog. Darkness gives way to orange autumn haze. Eternal harvest season. Blackened corn rots on the stalk. Machinery rusts in the fields. Bloated animal bodies decay in old barns. It is sad and stifling, the stench of forgotten things. And there—the farmer’s son. Lopsided boy. He stands on his porch, wiping blood and grime from his hammer. Distrustful, he watches Wolf Mother. Above, a slow-turning weathervane creaks.

her sentences are often short and choppy. the unusual syntax (the hunt ends. her catch, meager) gives it a feeling like a feral stream of consciousness. rotten corn, machine rust and bodies decaying are visceral, smelly descriptions because her sense of smell is especially strong and she relies on it to interact with the world. in contrast, ghostface sounds like this:

He’s hanging around Haddonfield when She comes calling, because he doesn’t have a realm of his own. Oh, no, no, no, of course it’s not a problem. He doesn’t mind at all, honest! It’s just, you know, he’s real good at this whole ritualistic murder thing. Got a knack for it, you might say. He was something of a professional before he ever got brought on board with an impressive résumé spanning most of the continental United States—not that he’s bragging, of course. He’s just experienced, motivated, highly-organized, versatile, and frankly, overqualified.

this is almost conversational. he's "hanging around," he's "got a knack for it," like the way you talk to a friend. his narration has a very informal and emotive vocabulary. he talks about his skill at murdering people like he's at a job interview, and he's extremely arrogant. my hope, as the author, is that all of this comes across and you get a strong sense of these characters just from brief passages.

finally, we can go back to the original question lol how do you write in a different "style?" i think you have to analyze different styles and voices, and figure out what you're going for. do you want to write something dreamy and surreal, or more dry and sarcastic? what tone are you going for, and how can your usage of word choice, syntax and perspective help you attain it?

i'm giving you homework lmao track down your favorite book and try analyzing the author's voice. take some notes on the tone, and if it contrasts the subject matter or genre (is it cynical? is it nostalgic? is it a lighthearted, fairy tale-esque fantasy or a more somber, gothic one?). also pay attention to the word choice. how vivid or descriptive is the prose? does it evoke certain imagery or themes? (in kraken by china mieville, a story about a giant squid that goes missing from a museum and the chaos that follows, he uses a lot of water and squid metaphors.) use the elements of voice listed above as a checklist of things to look for. if there's a certain writer you want to emulate or take inspiration from, studying their work like this could help a lot.

one last thing: since we talked so much about voice, i want to ask why you want to change your style. you can ignore this part if you want lol this is just a pep talk and something i think is good to mention. if you want to focus on differentiating character voices, or trying out a new style for fun, that's awesome! you can and should experiment with style, but remember that your voice as a writer is something unique to you. it's not something that you have to fundamentally change. we can all learn from other writers and hone or refine our style, but i think who we are on a personal level affects our affinity for certain stylistic choices that form our voice.

for example, on a scale of purple to beige, i lean pretty lavender lmao but i'm not ashamed of that! i was influenced a lot by writers who have a (capital R) Romantic flair to their prose, so i like flowery language and descriptions of nature. if it gets too purple and "in the way" of the story, then sure, i might need to trim down certain passages. but my affinity and tendencies aren't something i'm going to get rid of altogether, rather something i'll practice so they're super polished. once you identify your voice, i think you should embrace it and roll with it.

[rivetwrites]

Keebo fluff alphabet?

//yes!! lowkey, kiibo is one of my favourites!!

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

Kiibo Fluff Alphabet

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

He’s very shy around people, so going into a more quiet, secluded place to hangout with him is great! The library is one of his favourite areas, he just loves learning about human history, science, math! He’s highkey a huge nerd. When he’s alone with you, he’ll love to try some video games! Animal Crossing and Terraria are his favourites!

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Everything about you is beautiful to him, he can’t help complimenting every little detail. He favourite thing about you is how you don’t judge him. You see him more than just a robot, and more like everyone else, which is why he fell for you in the first place. 

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Kiibo isn’t the best at handling such strong emotions, since he doesn’t quite understand what could be causing them. Usually, he’ll try to get rid of the thing causing you stress first, then help you calm down. He’s not very cozy, so he would settle with holding you hand and telling you that he’s there for you.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He dreams frequently, always imagining how his future will be with you. He knows that there’s a lot of robophobes in the world who might not want you two to get married, but he would fight for it till the end! He knows that he’s not able to reproduce either, so adopting a child would be a good thing for him too!

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Poor boy has never been in love before, let alone been in a relationship. He’ll do bunches of research though, but usually you would have to help him progress during it. He gets shy and flustered very easily, so make sure to go at a stable pace as well!

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Kiibo has a hard time understanding jokes, so sometimes he would get offended if something sounds slightly robophobic. He’d pout, crossing his arms at you as he lectures you. If you explain the joke to him, and how you didn’t mean to come across that way, his mood will bounce back, and apologize about not letting you explain first before getting upset. He’s extremely forgiving if you just explain what you meant!

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

He’s super grateful for you! He’s very observant when you defend him from robophobic comments from Kokichi, or some asshole on the street, and he’s extremely happy for it!! He’s gained a lot of confidence from you, so he makes sure he returns the favour as well!

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

He sees no reason to hide anything from you, so he speaks his feelings with you all the time! He’s amazing at keeping your secrets and remembering not to tell anyone! He respects you and your privacy!

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Kiibo has gain more confidence! He started to not compare himself to humans as much, and starting thinking of himself as less of a robot too! Sometimes he’ll need reminders that he’s not just a robot, and how he’s amazing in every way.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

At first, he didn’t fully understand the feeling he was getting when he saw someone talk and get a bit too friendly, but a quick look up would conclude that someone was trying to steal you away! He’d be by your side in a heartbeat, his hand gripping yours as he has his sweet smile on his face. Later, you’d have to make sure he knows that he’s just perfect for you, and not to worry about other people stealing you away.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

It was very difficult to kiss him, since he’s mostly metal. Your heads would’ve bonked painfully, Kiibo sputtering apologies out for hurting you, attempting to kiss your head better and just ending up bonking again. You’d have to calm him down and gently kiss his lips yourself. He would’ve almost overheated from both embarrassment and love.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Once Kiibo finally learned what he was feeling was love, he’d go over to you immediately and tell you. When you accept, he’d be the happiest robot! He’d go around telling people that you’ve accepted him and now you’re his S/O.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Marriage would be extremely difficult, since it’s between a human and a robot. But Kiibo would try! He would rather elope, but if you would like to have an actual wedding, he’d be on board as well!

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

He would usually call you by your name, or his little human (you’re most likely taller than him.) He doesn’t really want to call you by a “pet name,” since you’re a human, not a pet. But once he realizes that they’re terms of endearment, sweetie, love, and darling would be his favourites!

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Kiibo would usually tell you that he loves you, resting his head on your shoulder as he looks up at you with his blue eyes. He can’t really give you the full cuddling experience, but holding your hand and telling you would be good enough for him.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

He loves holding your hand in public! It makes him feel much closer to you, and to let him know that you’re not going to leave him behind. Kissing isn’t on the table that often, since he’d have the tendency to overheat and shut down, which could be dangerous for him in public. He doesn’t gloat that much, since he doesn’t really see the appeal in it, but he does let people know that you two are together!

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Kiibo is extremely smart, so he would love to help you with any work or questions you may have! He’s also very protective when he wants/needs to be, so he’ll also be there to protect you from anyone who might hurt you as well!

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He’s always very cliché, buying you flowers, holding the door open for you, pulling out chairs, the whole nine yards. He always learned about this kind of stuff from cheesy romance movies, so he thinks it’ll work in real life too! Whenever you come up with something creative to do, he’d be a bit nervous, but with you the entire time!

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Yes!! He loves it when you talk about your dreams and goals with him, it makes him so determined to help you reach them! He’d do a bunch of research to see how much he can help you. Once you do, the smile on your face is always worth it in the end.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Kiibo is very inexperienced, so he would try his best to have a routine in the relationship. Usually, huge dates would be a no for him, since he always gets strange looks in public, but he loves staying home and watching movies! He can’t eat snacks with you, but he loves your company!

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Sometimes, he doesn’t quite understand feelings, so he would need a bit of help from you to know when you’re feeling sad. He does know about your facial changes though! So whenever you look sad (not necessarily be sad,) he’ll know to go to comfort you, even when you don’t need it.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

He values you greatly! Your relationship has taught him many new experiences and feelings, and he can’t help but hold that close to his little robot heart.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Kiibo always does everything in his power to make you smile at least once a day, from making you a small snack or to telling you a little joke. It always warms his circuits to see you smile because of him.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

His body is all metal, so cuddling isn’t the best experience with him. He loves to hold your hand though! It makes him feel so loved and safe with you. He also loves it when you kiss his forehead as well, always hiding in his armour to hide his blush.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Whenever you’re gone, he’d usually be charging or researching. He misses you, but he knows that you’ll always return for him! Once you’re home, he’ll leap up and tell you everything he learned that day! He gets super excited to show you new things he can do!

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Kiibo is willing to go as far as you will! This is his first (and hopefully last) relationship, so he wants to make sure you’ll stay with him forever!!

[honey-dewey]

Random Dewey Finn headcanons (?) I came up with while eating my breakfast

Before Dewey wanted to be a big rock star, he wanted to be an astronaut. 

His aunt gave him his first guitar for his 10th birthday, thus sparking his love of rock music. 

One of the major reasons he never quit music was because of that aunt. She passed away early, and was constantly the only member of his family that truly believed in him. 

Dewey’s mum was kind of absent, so he was raised primarily by his dad. 

Dewey and Ned met on the first day of high school, and were inseparable for all four years. 

Despite both of them liking both, Dewey likes Star Wars more, while New prefers Star Trek. They have debates of epic proportion over which of these preferences is better. Dewey somehow always wins. 

One of the reasons Ned let Dewey live with him is because Dewey is an amazing cook. He never eats what he makes though. 

His specialty is breakfast foods

While he may be an amazing home cook, he’s an even better baker. 

Dewey is highly sensitive to textures, especially food and fabrics. 

Because of this, he rarely tries new foods, sticking to a decently firm schedule. (He really likes hard boiled eggs) 

It’s also why he likes sweater vests. The actual sweater doesn’t touch his skin, but he can rub his hands up and down the knit when he gets overwhelmed. 

He’s also sensitive to criticism. Along with that, he cries easily. 

After the whole School of Rock incident, Dewey did some quick online classes on teaching. When a music teacher position at Horace Green opened up, he was the first one contacted to fill it. 

During SoR shows, Dewey has a tendency to get very hyped, and this eventually leads to a collapse, usually on the bus ride home. It happened once on stage, where he just went still and quiet all of a sudden and then began to panic. 

All of his kids know exactly what to do during his collapses. 

They made him (yes made him) a stress doll. It weighs about twenty pounds and looks like a panda. They lay it across Dewey’s chest and let him lie down on a blanket. The kids then surround him to make a protective barrier. It’s a very effective method. 

It took almost thirty years for Dewey to get diagnosed with mild autism, anxiety, ADD, and seasonal depression. His mother was a firm believer that mental illness was a hoax. 

He did try and take medication for it, right when he started teaching full-time. It made him nauseous and tired and so unlike himself that he quit after three months, a decision that was fully backed by his students. 

He eventually did go back and get a new prescription for his ADD. It works surprisingly well and doesn’t make him act any less like himself. 

This isn’t even a Headcanon. It’s straight up actual canon from the Broadway.com Stick it to the Man video! Dewey stims! He knocks his wrists together and does the raptor hands! (I don’t think his hands were truly by his side at any point during the entire show) He taps his feet and shakes his hands! His facial expressions are always on 10 and he scronches his face when he’s excited! His head go bop! He’s a stimming Boi!

Also have you ever seen a neurotypical person dress like that? Ever? Nope. Sweater vests and jeans and sneakers (that look like heelys) is not a neurotypical outfit. 

Dewey doesn’t like rainy weather, nor does he like the cold bite of winter. He has a heater and a happy light in his classroom for rainy and/or cold days. 

His favorite season is fall. He really really likes to step on leaves and hear that satisfying crunch. 

Dewey also has a weakened immune system, and is pretty vigilant about his health. He takes vitamins and vitamin D supplements, and yet always ends up with some kind of illness in winter. Despite this, he refuses to get any kind of flu shot. 

Dewey’s list of phobias includes: needles, heights, clowns, and the dark. 

He’s dead terrified of the dentist. Ned has to practically drag him every time. It’s not even that he has poor dental hygiene or has actual odontophobia, he just hates the experience. The combination of strong smells and uncomfortable touches and horrible noises overwhelms him so much. 

For much of the same reasons as his hatred of the dentist, Dewey dreads getting his hair cut. Social interaction mixed with weird feelings on his surprisingly sensitive head and the constant background noise and the hair spray-y smell make it an experience Dewey’s hated since childhood. Now, Ned usually cuts Dewey’s hair because he’s really not picky about how it looks, and Ned knows exactly how to go about the job without causing Dewey to hyperventilate and cry. 

He uses a night light! It’s the fun kind that projects stars on the ceiling. 

Dewey is the king of field trips. He’s always just as eager as the kids to go, and he loves to learn niche facts. His favorite field trip location is the aquarium. 

Dewey quit drinking after his 23rd birthday, when he blacked out and woke up in some random girl’s bed. She promised they didn’t do it, but ever since then, he’s terrified it’ll happen again. 

Speaking of which, Dewey’s a virgin. 

Once, one of Dewey’s female students came to him and said an older man was following her to and from school every day. Dewey was later suspended from work for a week for punching a man and putting him in the hospital. Once they knew why, the school board unanimously decided not to punish him. 

Dewey absolutely insists all of his kids call him Dewey and not Mr. Finn. 

He’s the most supportive teacher in the entire school. He’s got name tags on every desk with each kid’s preferred name and pronouns. When Billy comes out as non-binary, he makes the pronoun switch immediately and puts a beautiful stained glass-esque progress pride flag in one of his windows. 

Someone hatefully vandalized said pride art project and Dewey actually cried. His kids all banded together to make a new one. 

Sometimes, the kids purposefully ask Dewey to sing certain things because his voice gets so damn tender and beautiful, as opposed to the usual bombastic singing they’re used to. (Think like. Some of the 35MM songs) 

Dewey has a routine with his drinks throughout the day. Two cups of coffee in the morning, one at home and one at work. One water bottle before lunch and one after lunch. A Gatorade or some other fitness drink after school, usually during band practice to make up for how sweaty he gets. And one cup of lavender citrus tea with extra honey after dinner. 

He broke his only water bottle about four months into teaching full-time and started to use a plastic one every day. Ned decided that wouldn’t do, and got him a Mandalorian water bottle. Dewey loves it to bits. 

Dewey doesn’t celebrate any one version of a holiday. He’s equal opportunity for any and all holidays, but he grew up Jewish. That doesn’t stop him from helping Ned put up his Christmas tree every year. Nor does it stop him from celebrating Yule with his online friends. 

Despite being Jewish and mainly celebrating their holidays, Dewey loves Christmas music and starts playing it as soon as he can. The kids dare him to hit those ridiculous Mariah Carey high notes in All I Want For Christmas. He does it. 

He also once sang ‘Little Drummer Boy’ to his kids the day before holiday break. He only played his guitar softly and by the time he was done, each and every kid was fast asleep. (He played Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer as well) 

Dewey absolutely collects soft blankets. He has four halloween ones, two Tim Burton ones (a Beetlejuice and a Corpse Bride), eight winter holiday blankets, and three miscellaneous. He brought them all into class once and built a blanket fort to teach his kids about ancient civilization. 

Speaking of which, his teaching methods are unorthodox at best, and at worst downright crazy. But he always teaches and he always makes it memorable. His class has the highest test scores in the school. 

Dewey usually teaches using music or hands on activities. He plays soft background music during every class no matter the circumstances, and said screw the building’s lights and uses primarily lamps and strings of Christmas lights. 

He also kind of forgets that he teaches essentially middle school, and he swears every so often when he’s super passionate. Like when he taught the kids about the US Presidents and called Andrew Jackson a racist bitch and Richard Nixon a lying bastard. 

After getting bullied throughout all of high school, Dewey came to terms with what his body looked like, and now he really doesn’t care. (He did have a lot of fun smashing the scale his mother got him for his birthday once) 

Dewey was supposed to teach his kids about mental illness for a suicide prevention thing the school did, but got about halfway through before he had a breakdown and the kids declared the rest of the day a bust. They watched cute animated movies instead of learning for the rest of the school day. 

Speaking of animated movies, Dewey really loves Studio Ghibli. 

The first time one of his kids called him ‘Dad’ he cried. Then they kept doing it and now he’s had to accept that he’s basically a father to about 30 11-year-olds. 

If you ask any kid in the school who their favorite teacher is, they will not hesitate to answer ‘Mr. Finn.’ Even if they aren’t in his class, he’s their favorite. 

Dewey’s classroom is always open for lunch. It’s quiet and calm, usually with a movie going in the background. 

He also stays after school for about an hour every day, helping kids with homework. He hates math with a passion but that didn’t stop him from trying to figure out Katie’s math homework with her. 

Even at home, Dewey cannot stand the quiet. He either has his headphones on or the radio going. Silence just isn’t an option. 

Dewey once got pneumonia and tried to come in to work anyway. The kids made him go home. He didn’t really put up much of a fight. 

The first instrument Dewey ever learned to play was the piano. He started to learn when he was super young, and that was how he learned how to read music. His kids didn’t even know he knew how to play until they walked in on him practicing one day. 

Dewey says ‘fuck gender roles’ and wears the girl’s skirts to a few SoR concerts. He likes the way it makes his legs look. 

Some jerk parents constantly tried to get Dewey in trouble for months because they didn’t like him and thought he wasn’t ‘high class’ enough for their kid’s education. Dewey was so stunned when they showed up during one of his classes that he couldn’t speak and just started to cry. Said student stood up and called their parents out. Two days later, those parents were off the school board. 

Meanwhile, on the other end of the spectrum, Dewey found out a new kid he’d received was being abused at home because they weren’t getting high enough grades and he yelled at the kid’s parents in front of all the other staff members. 

Essentially, Dewey can’t defend himself at all, but will not hesitate to protect his kids. 

Dewey has said multiple times he would die for his kids. He’s always 100% serious, especially during lockdown drills. 

Once, the school had a lockdown that wasn’t a drill, and Dewey managed to keep his entire class silent and calm while mentally preparing himself to lay his life down for his kids. Thankfully, it didn’t come to that. 

Dewey’s also said he’d seriously consider adopting any of the kids if their at-home situation was that bad. 

When he finally could, Dewey moved out of Ned’s house and into his own cramped loft apartment. He’s in love with the apartment, even though it’s tiny and kinda smells. 

Dewey has almost no concept of volume control. He’s slightly deaf from constantly doing very loud shows and sometimes shouts because he thinks that’s a normal speaking volume. 

As one of, if not the actual, youngest teachers at the school, Dewey is universally adored by the rest of the staff. It took a while for all of them to get on board with him, but now they all really like him. 

Dewey’s favorite fruit is pomegranate. There’s just something super cathartic about cutting into a pomegranate and slowly de-seeding it. Plus, it tastes super good. But he only likes them if he can de-seed them himself. 

One of the ways Dewey grounds himself is by pressing things to his mouth. He usually just puts his hand up on his face or the end of a pen in his mouth, but whenever he has a blanket, one corner is up against his lips. The same goes for stuffed animals. They’re always against his face. Most of the time, he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. 

[rose-wine-selfships]

For the gemstone selfship asks: peridot, labradorite and ametrine for Frodo? (@allhailknifeprincess)

Thank you so much love! I absolutely loved answering these questions from my inbox! 😍🥰

Peridot: How did you and your F/O meet, and what were your first impressions of each other?

We met at Rivendell, where the high elves, dwarves, and men came together to decide who will bear the ring and who will protect the ring bearer. Frodo at the time was very nervous, but he got over his anxiety the moment he saw me sitting across from him. He thought I was really pretty for a petite female human. Frodo asked about me through Gandalf, and he told Frodo that he didn’t know me well, but he could sense a positive, gentle magic aura around me. I gave him a shy smile and Frodo couldn’t stop staring at me while I tried to convince the Elvish counsel to go on the Fellowship journey. Eventually, Elrond decided I would go as the tenth walker since I would be a good medic/emotional support system for the rest in the Fellowship. He figured out I was an Empath, a rare kind of human with supernatural powers that could heal beings through touch, and hence why I was incredibly valuable to them.

However, I could also absorb the feelings of other people and have strong reactions to negative emotions. The entire counsel was thrown into a shouting match over who would carry the ring or destroy it. It was too much for me, and I soon had a meltdown over the emotions of the people arguing with each other there and the evil influence of the ring. Frodo definitely took notice and he couldn’t stand seeing me in pain. Then he stood up from his chair and said he will take the ring to Mordor.

As soon as he said that, the entire room went silent. Once Frodo was set on his goal, they finally accepted his quiet and strong will to bear Sauron’s evil ring. I gently smiled and nodded while mouthing a quiet “Thank you” across to him. Frodo then turned a bright shade of red, and then became quite shy and embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. Ever since then, Frodo couldn’t stop thinking about me and let me get closer to him as we went further on our journey to Mordor. 💖💕

Labradorite: What do you think the future holds for you and your F/O? Do you have any particular plans?

I think we’ll be pretty set in our future. After we threw the ring into the fiery depths of Mordor, we made a promise on marrying in The Shire, or rather Frodo’s homeland. I did marry Frodo soon after, and we became the married couple most hobbits envied because our love was that strong. However, over the years, Frodo’s pain in his physical and mental state was way too strong. Not even I could heal the deep scars he had in his left shoulder from the morgul blade.

It got to the point where he couldn’t bear it anymore and decided to board the ship to the afterlife with his uncle Bilbo. He tried to convince me to stay in the mortal realm, but I absolutely refused. Through my tears, I said a life without him was a life I’ll never live. Frodo then decided to bring me aboard to the ship and we set sail on our departure. We said our goodbyes to all our hobbit friends before then. After that, we had so many more adventures loving each other in the afterlife, forever and for always. 💕💞💖

Ametrine: How do you and your F/O deal with cold weather? Which of you favours it more?

To be honest, Frodo can put up with cold weather way more than me because he’s a hobbit. He’s used to the winters in The Shire. Plus his natural tendency to be very warm blooded and covered in thick hair makes him a natural furnace. Sometimes when we’re out of blankets, I cuddle him like crazy because he’s so warm! 🥰🥰🥰

As for me, I can’t STAND the cold! Ughhhh!! If it’s extreme winter temperatures I get very fussy. It’s no fun for me to be out shoveling the snow too, lol. I still do that regardless so I can help keep our “hobbit-hole” or cottage clean. Frodo then rewards me with taking me inside, making me hot tea, cuddling with him under the blankets and giving me kisses to warm me up. It always works every time! Plus, there’s no one else I’d rather be with than him. 🥰🌹🍷✨

[fleckcmscott]

The Vanity

Summary: Arthur tries to get ready for work. Y/N joins him.

Warnings: Smut, swearing

Words: 3,774

A/N: This request comes from the marvelous brain of @ithinkimawriter. Again, thanks to @sweet-nothings04 for beta-reading!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

After he started street performing and getting gigs again, Arthur found he needed a better place to put his supplies for work. The two small shelves in the bathroom were already covered by his and Y/N's toiletries, so they didn't fit there. He'd been keeping it all in a plastic bag in the closet, but that wasn't ideal. The enclosed space had a tendency to get too hot due to how the heat worked in the apartment, which made his make-up dry out. And the brushes were getting damaged because of improper storage.

Having to borrow money from her wasn't the only reason he was hesitant to mention he would prefer a vanity. Y/N would often sit on the closed lid of the toilet, watching him lean over the sink while he applied greasepaint to his face. If he had his own work area, he assumed she'd probably hold back from him when he was in it, like she did when he was in his writing nook. It was one of the ways she showed him respect. But he loved her keeping him company when he'd get in costume, how they would discuss the day and plan for the evening.

She'd begun asking more about his job, seeming to be genuinely interested in it. They were simple questions: how long he'd been a clown ("About ten years. Maybe twelve?"); what he liked best about it ("Every day is different. And making kids laugh."); and what the hardest part was. He pondered on what answer he could give, one that was accurate, but wouldn't cause her concern. He hadn't wanted to tell her he still had to deal with mean people (though incidents were seldom and he was better at handling them). If he did that, she'd probably insist on riding with him, despite his reassurances he could take care of himself. "The commute can be rough," he'd admitted. Then he'd bent down to her and tapped her nose lightly with the tip of his brush. "It's good knowing I have you to come home to." Her wide smile and gleaming squint had been full of adoration, in spite of her reaching for a tissue to wipe her face.

Eventually he told her, though. "There's a cosmetic table at Donahue's Department Store," he said, giving her the flyer they'd gotten in the mail as he sunk onto the sofa cushion beside her. He pointed at the picture of the vanity, with its dark brown veneer and two drawers on both sides of the sitting area. The oval mirror had sides that folded in at an adjustable angle, which, he explained, would make it easier for him to ensure the white base covered every part of his face. "We could put it on my side of the bed. By the window. It's only a couple feet long, a foot deep. I already measured the space."

She looked intrigued. "Mr. Fleck, you want to put a giant mirror next to our bed?" The glint in her eye was obvious.

He blinked at her. "I need a space to put my make-up. The lighting will be better there."

Studying the page, she leaned her head on him, a smirk in her voice. "Of course."

He wondered why she was joking around when he was being serious. But he continued with what he had to say. "I don't want you to stop watching me get ready if we buy it. It'd be yours, too. It's not expensive. But- But I'd need to borrow a little from you. I could pay you ba-"

"Don't start with that," she interrupted. "I'll call them right now." With a kiss to his shoulder, she got up and walked to the phone. He eagerly waited in the kitchen entrance, worrying his pockets while she sat on the counter making notes. Then she hung up and gave him the good news: the store would be able to deliver it Friday afternoon, cash-on-delivery, fully assembled for a small fee. Arthur grabbed his wallet, took out all $22, and shoved it at her until she rolled her eyes and stuck it in an envelope for the payment. "I'll put a couple mascaras in there," she said wryly. "Then maybe you'll stop worrying about the money."

~~~~~

The party would be starting at 1:00 PM. Arthur had to hop on the red line from Burnley, transfer to the blue line in Hinckley, then take the train to Gotham Village. The commute would be just under an hour if there were no delays (which had become more frequent ever since the prior year's budget cuts). Gary had assured him he didn't have to worry. He'd worked for a friend of the family before and they were nice people. The kid liked magic tricks and balloon animals. It'd be easy. And he'd be home for the Saturday Night Made-for-TV movie Y/N wanted to catch with him. (Courtroom dramas weren't his thing, but he wouldn't miss the chance to settle his arm around her and pretend to be engrossed.)

Sitting at the vanity, with its round stool and solid, cream color cushion, made him feel like a professional getting ready to face the day. Even if he was a clown. The light shining through the sheer, muslin curtains of their bedroom was bright enough to get started. After removing his shirt and raking his brown locks back, he dabbed the brush in his pot of white foundation. The bristles ran across his forehead and strong brow in even lines, over the straight bridge and rounded tip of his nose, then down his right temple, careful not to get the pigment in his sideburn. Tilting his head and holding steady, he painted curved, smooth strokes over his sharp cheekbone, down to his jawline, then repeated the motions on the left side of his face. His mouth parted as he colored the area under his nose, his thin lips, and chin. When the paint was distributed evenly, he blended it with a sponge, using small, circular motions.

Y/N's soft footsteps approached as he finished the blue triangles above and below his left eye. "What kind of sandwich do you want to take with you?" she asked from the bedroom doorway.

That turned the corner of his mouth up. Whenever Arthur had a job around lunch, she packed him something to eat. He hadn't yet gotten use to being taken care of. The attention made him feel self-conscious. He wasn't certain he'd ever believe he deserved it. But more and more often, he found himself able to simply appreciate her thoughtfulness. "Anything will be okay. Wait - do we have turkey?"

"Yeah. I'll make it soon." He watched her in the mirror as she walked up behind him and sat on his side of the bed. "You don't have to leave for a couple hours," she said, working on her thumbnail with a file. "I'm surprised you’re in here already."

It was a bit early to be preparing for the gig, but he didn't want to be late. If these people really were as gracious as Gary claimed, maybe he'd be able to perform again at their next party. Or they'd recommend him to other families. Then he'd definitely be able to pay off the ring he was buying Y/N and give it to her in October, as he'd planned. He finished working on the triangle under his right eye, having already done the one on his brow. "I wanna make sure I get it right," he said. "I used to do it every day."

She got up and propped herself on the edge of the table, dropping the emery board on it. "You're much better at that than I am," she said as he drew the outline of an exaggerated smile, then filled it in. "I'm lucky I don't poke my eye out with my liner."

Chuckling, he let his gaze flit up to hers before continuing. It was difficult not to be distracted by her proximity; she was pretty even in her casual, weekend outfit. The black, white-seamed tank top showed off the contours of her breasts. And its slits, stopping just above her hips, enticed him. Glancing at her legs, he admired the curves exposed by her matching, form-fitting track shorts. The stray hairs on her calves were few, leftovers from her electric razor - he’d have to remind her to change the blade.

She scooted closer. "Do you know how beautiful you are in that?" she said, indicating his make-up. "You took my breath away when I first saw it. Well, that paired with your good hair."

A scoff left him as he put red eyebrows midway up his forehead. The paint helped him get into character. But he was aware his visage was more weathered than most thirty-five year old men. And he disliked how the color would accentuate the lines and crevices in his face. "It shows my wrinkles," he murmured, to himself as much as to her.

"I love your wrinkles," she said. "And your squishy cheeks." Then she cupped his face. He recoiled almost instantly, grasping her hand. A bit of paint had gotten on her. "Oops, I smudged you." Before he could protest, she grabbed the white brush from the jar behind her and perched herself on him. It caught him off guard. But after a few seconds, he put his left arm around her waist to steady her.

The tension in his body grew and his eyelids drifted shut. The bristles tickled with Y/N controlling them - he'd never had someone else do his make-up before. The wet of the paint and the weight of her on his lap reminded him of one of his earliest fantasies of her. He'd imagined bringing her to HaHa's and showing her off to his co-workers. (In particular, Randall, that asshole who'd been married and divorced twice, constantly complained about his exes and whoever he was seeing, and probably didn't even know what a clit was.) Even though they'd made fun of him, and he didn't understand all their comments about women, he could have proven he was worthy of a girlfriend.

Arthur sighed. He didn't like how the tenderness she was showing him prompted his thinking to go to such a bitter place. Especially since he felt he was doing better and believed he was moving on. Not wanting to spoil the lovely morning he was having with her, he concentrated on the physical space around him, the way Dr. Ludlow had taught him. He focused on the warmth of Y/N's form on his thighs, the hint of her pleasing natural scent over the chalky smell of the greasepaint, the way her fingers curled on his chest as she tried to fix the smear she'd made. The burning in his shoulders alerted him to the fact that he was flushing, and he ducked his head slightly.

It wasn't the best moment to get aroused - he really did want to get ready for work. But then she leaned into him, her breasts flush with his torso, and his heartbeat quickened. Her pebbled nipples through the thin fabric of her top prompted him to slowly trace the hem of her shorts. With his blood rushing to his groin, he nearly didn't hear her sound of displeasure. "What?" he rasped.

"I'm making this worse."

He moved to look past her, in the mirror. The carefully formed triangle still had a wide base, but one side was uneven, the tapering causing it to look like an icicle. He shook his head and seized the brush, pretending to be annoyed. "This is why I started early."

"Really?" she replied, tousling his hair. A couple stray curls fell onto his forehead. "I was hoping it was so we'd have time." The slight scrape of her nails on his scalp, and the invitation in her eyes made his mouth run dry.

Since they'd gotten together, he'd been learning his boundaries and figuring out what he liked. Y/N was understanding and patient, and happily answered any questions he could bring himself to ask. And when he misinterpreted something or made a mistake, she accepted it with humor. Her easy manner and generosity healed any embarrassment, even when he needed a few minutes to stop being flustered.

Making love with his clown face on wasn't something they had discussed. But if she wanted to, he wasn't opposed. He huffed, put the brush on the table, then let his fingertips slide down her neck. When she adjusted her legs and bumped his erection, he dipped under the strap of her shirt. "Time for what?" He hoped he sounded confident enough to tease her. The kiss she gave him was urgent but he drew back. "This stuff doesn't taste good," he warned.

"I don't care," she breathed, dipping to his mouth again, arms going around him. At that, he reached up her shorts, in a hurry to have her as close to him as possible. Lips continuing to pull at hers, he helped her stand and take them off, along with her underwear. He wanted to watch as she straddled him, but her kisses were demanding, and he was losing the ability to think clearly. Instead, he palmed her ass, savoring the feel of her slow but enthusiastic undulations against his length. Eventually, she broke away from him, pressing her forehead to his. "I made a mess," she giggled.

He looked down between them. The stain of her slick had gotten on the front of his blue pants, its faint whiteness shining in the bright sunlight. "Oh..." He licked his upper lip at the sight and shuddered. "Y/N?"

"Yes?"

One of her requests had been that he attempt to be more explicit, to tell her what he wanted. He might as well try it again now. Swallowing thickly, he forced the words out. "I need to fuck you."

The light laugh that left her was delighted. "I'm right here," she purred as she helped him shed her shirt.

Once it was gone, he lifted her off him and sat her on the vanity, suddenly overcome with the need to take her. He threaded his fingers through her hair, angling his head upwards to tangle his tongue with hers. The grip she had on his biceps was almost bruising but he loved it. It made her inexplicable desire for him tangible. Slowly, he traced down over her stomach to hold her hips. His mouth reached her chest, and he panted between his sucking of her nipples and open-lipped kisses on her breasts.

He backed away, taking in the make-up he'd smeared on her body and face. The possession he felt at that shocked him, but he enjoyed it all the same. Then he gazed down at her core with hooded eyes and groaned. She was beautiful, splayed before him like she was, her center red, swollen, and so wet her arousal was on her thighs. He placed his palm on the crease of her thigh, licking his lip as he stretched to toy with her engorged clit. Her grip moved to his shoulder as she jerked up into his touch. He nuzzled her sternum as he continued, rapidly moving the pad of his thumb back and forth over the sensitive nub. The motions of her pelvis quickened, matching his fervor. But as his lips began to trail down to her abdomen, she stopped him. "I want to come with you in me."

After gathering himself, he stood and slipped out of his trousers and briefs. He bent to pick them up and put them on the bed, and she hopped off the vanity and turned around. It confused him at first. But then she braced herself on the table with her forearms. “Come on,” she whispered.

The sight of her bowed over like that, asking him to fill her, was undeniably arousing. But this was something new. They'd been exploring gradually. Despite his complete trust in her, he had to question it. “It’s- It’s hard to see you this way. Your face.”

“That’s what the mirror’s for.” Her eyes were wicked when they met his in the glass.

Ah. He chuckled, feeling silly for not knowing that. Then she pressed back, the swell of her buttocks nudging his hard-on. When she held herself open for him, he stopped doubting. Letting the clutch of her walls and her soft moans guide him, he slowly entered her.

When he was engulfed in her completely, he stilled and gazed at the mirror. The reflection made him snort - his greasepaint was smeared all over, the white, red, and blue smudged together inseparably, much like their two bodies. It was odd to see himself standing there - he wasn't sure if he liked it. So he blinked down at her face; he held his breath. He hadn’t even done anything, and she looked like she was about to get off. Then he felt the flicker of her fingertips on his cock. Reaching around her and between her legs, he said, “Let me.” She obliged, allowing him to entwine their fingers as she stroked herself.

Her words came out as a whimper. “Arthur...” She pushed towards him. “I need you to move.”

Eagerly, he withdrew and bucked into her, grunting and quickly speeding up. But he was too clumsy and slipped out of her. They both laughed as she grasped him and lined him up with her entrance. “Just go easy,” she said. “Don’t pull out too far.” Concentrating, he put his other hand on her hip and did his best to control the shallow rocking of his hips. The one or two inches of friction wasn’t enough for him; it seemed to be working for her, though. But it was hard to maintain his rhythm when the sound of her ass and thighs hitting him was making him want to lose himself completely.

Releasing her hand, he straightened a bit and allowed his gaze to rove over her. She was writhing beneath him, bent forward as she chased her pleasure. His touch ghosted up her spine, gentle along the faint knobs (much less prominent than his) under her smooth skin. Kneading her left shoulder, he looked at her reflection. Her head was tilted back, her brows stitched together as she strove back towards him. The lips he loved to kiss parted with every whine. And her breasts swayed with each thrust, their stiff peaks grazing the surface of the table.

A groan escaped him. He’d seen her expression contort in bliss a lot at this point. But it felt voyeuristic, watching her like this. Almost as if the mirror separated them in spite of their joining. A shiver went up him at the thrill of it, and he plunged faster, his palm on her side pulling her towards him. She met him, move for move, even as her hips stuttered, and he felt the familiar spasm of her muscles start around him. He drove inside her, hard, when she fell apart, and stayed buried deep while she rode out her climax. It wasn’t easy to do, the pulsing grip of her core nearly inducing him to move. She sobbed, her frame curling as she lowered her head to her vanity. Gasping, she squeezed his hand on her shoulder. The trembling of her legs caught his attention, so he rubbed her thigh soothingly and kissed her.

Once she’d relaxed, he left her body long enough to turn her around, set her on the table, and fill her again. Now he wasn’t patient. His lips devoured her mouth as he rutted within her, her walls around his hard cock flooding his senses. He hoped he’d never get use to this. At the building tautness of his muscles, he propped himself up on the vanity and grit his teeth. One of her hands held his hip, the other digging the small of his back, guiding him as he fucked her with abandon. “Arthur, don’t stop."

His movements faltered when her legs encircled his waist, then sudden, white hot fire consumed him. Everything disappeared as he moaned in the crook of her neck - everything that wasn't her. She gripped him tightly, her soft "Yes" caressing his ear and his heart. His toes curled into the carpet and his pelvis locked with hers, his essence pouring inside her, his length throbbing, surrounded by her heat.

Finally, he was able to straighten and catch his breath. He could feel her smile against his temple, and he patted her flank gently before he withdrew from her. First he sat on the edge of the bed, then let himself lay down and raked his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes. That had been intense. And a work out. He could feel the sweat on his scalp. He’d have to shower again.

He hadn’t realized Y/N had stepped out until she reclined next to him and pressed a warm washcloth to his forehead. “Sorry about your make-up.”

“I think I can forgive you,” he laughed. His fingertips dragged up her side as he looked at her washed face in wonder. The gentle way she was dabbing at him, the love she radiated, would never stop being remarkable. This was one of the moments she made him believe he was the luckiest man in Gotham, despite the wretchedness that had been most of his life, and the conditions he struggled with.

Arthur accepted the cloth from her and sat up, watching as she stood and washed the vanity's surface. “Did you like it?” she asked.

“Yes.” He wiped the greasepaint from his skin. “Were you always like this?”

Y/N glanced over her shoulder. “Like what?”

Unsure how to describe it, he gestured at her vaguely.  “I dunno. Out there?”

"Out there?" she snorted. "I think you mean vocal." With a shake of her head, she knelt in front of him and rested her forearms on his knees. “That came with experience. And you may not be. That's fine. You'll figure it out.” Then she nuzzled at his nose. “It helps when you're with the right person.”

His chest swelled at that description of him, that she regarded him as such, and he put his arm around her. “Yeah,” he said quietly. Then he quirked a brow at her, touching the marks his paint had left on her chest. “Does this mean you have a thing for clowns?”

The tickling of his ribs wasn’t entirely unexpected. “No." She nestled against him and kissed his jaw. "I have a thing for you.”

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @octopus-plasma

[jjba-hell]

Fate and Fortune

I don’t know if this can be classified as Part 2.5 or Part 3... y’know let’s go with Part 3

Content warnings: pretty mild if not for the ominous feel, abandonment themes and some possible PTSD, nightmares and sleep paralysis (implied but not mentioned) and maybe some blood but not gore or violence.

So the big explanation I’m putting down for this one is that Vera holds the Wheel of Fortune as her stand- as I’ve said, my canon now, the one in canon do not exist ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ. I’ll probably elaborate on how it works later, for now- you’re getting breadcrumbs -w-

For the lovely @risottoneroo (please lemme know if I should cool it with the tagging lol (*´ω｀*)

Part 1

Part 2

1.4 K words

It had been a few months since the incident in the place Vera once called home. Sitting at a café, overlooking the river Nile, Avdol and Vera had just polished off a pot of tea together. It was somewhat a celebratory brunch, Muhammed Avdol had won custody over Vera Astbury- the big benefactor that was sponsoring her schooling abroad being what won the courts over in his favor.

“So, who is this oh so generous benefactor?” She asked as she brought the cup to her lips once more- hoping she was veiling her distaste at being shipped to a boarding school in the following months well enough behind polite banter. If this idea was Avdol’s or the benefactor’s idea, she was still unsure- but her reluctance remained.

“You’ll meet Mr Joestar as soon as he returns for business in England. You really don’t have to break your head about who he is until then. I’ll keep you updated.”

Avdol had a tendency to avoid speaking on the court processions for her custody. She’d been upset by both her families’ reluctance to take her in at her time of need, the bags she’d packed to be shipped to one them, standing in Avdol’s living room for one too many weeks. Until he cleared a room for her and asked her to unpack.

The smile tugged at the corner of her lips without her knowing. Avdol caught the gesture and calmly placed his cup of tea back in its saucer. “And now I wonder- what could have made my answer so amusing?”

Vera shrugged as she swirled the stray tea leaves around the bottom of her cup. “For a moment you sounded like my dad-“ her smile slid off her face as the tea leaves settled.

Divination by tea leaves was something she’d laughed at when Avdol first taught her about it but now- with all her readings, even the ones she did unintentionally as practice to get a feel for how much tea she needed to move the tea leaves around- all ended in the same black dog figure stalking the bottom edges of her cup.

To her, it felt as though she was plunged ankle deep into the tea in the bottom of the cup, as though the image mirroring her own grief and fear in the tea leaves would consume her as well.

A graceful brown hand stretched over the mouth of the cup, obstructing her view of the leaves.

“You know better than to read into your predictions now. You need to grieve first.”

Vera’s gaze met Avdol’s across the table, the concerned frown on his face enough to remind her that she wasn’t completely alone.

“Would you have me organise a psychologist at the boarding school for you?” He sighed as he withdrew his hand from her cup.

She chuckled and cringed at the same time. “I appreciate you looking out for me but I am not looking forward to leaving.”

“I know, Vera. But whatever or whoever was after you hopefully won’t leave Egypt for you. And… now don’t look at me like that. No matter how desperately you want revenge, you’re much too young to go out and look for that kind of trouble.”

Vera reverted her scowl to a smirk, she wasn’t going to fight him, the last thing she wanted was to seem ungrateful for what he was doing for her. “Watch out Avdol- if you let me get too far under your skin, I’ll give you grey hairs.”

His eyebrow shot up as he folded his hands into his robe sleeves- “You underestimate my tolerance, Vera. I know you jest most of the time, even if its just a way for you to cope.”

Vera’s words caught in her throat- the clever retort gone before she could give it some voice. With a clear of her throat she folded her hands on the table. “Perceptive. I’ll keep quite then, I know when I’m outwitted.”

“I thought so.” Avdol chuckled, signalling the waiter for the bill.

Living with Avdol had turned into an agreeable co-habitation, a bit of an adjustment for both of them but she felt safe under Avdol’s protection.

In terms of basic necessity she was well taken care of- physchologically she was still struggling.

To Vera, the development of her stand did the exact opposite to what she felt like it was supposed to do- or at least what Avdol had told her it would do. Instead of manifesting her own strength, she felt more vulnerable.

Avdol had shown his own stand to her once he realized she had some control over her own. Magician’s Red radiated an intense heat that felt like it would suffocate her if he left them out in the room too long. They were considerably larger and more opaque than her stand- intense glare matching their user’s.

“I call them Magician’s Red,” Avdol had explained. “You will find the name for your stand soon, I’m sure.” At the time she shrugged off her own ability as useless. She was just a bit more lucky whenever she hovered her stand’s extended hand over a dice. She couldn’t image her stand setting having any more power than that- the envy of seeing Magician’s Red starting the bonfire outside one evening making itself evident.

To Vera, her stand only hovered a few inches above the her bed’s edge, cross-legged like a cat watching her struggle to make her limbs move or violently jerk herself out of a nightmare. It only let her feel guilty as she playfully stole a win from Avdol in a game of cards. Only a few weeks later she realized her stand could do more than steal luck.

“Ahhh shit.”

Avdol’s head popped in around the corner at her cradling her bleeding palm over the kitchen sink.

“What happened.”

“I dropped the knife and caught it at the blade.”

Avdol cringed as he ducked back into the hallway. “I’m getting the first aid kit.”

She pulled the unplugged the water in the other sink and turned the water on to run over her wound.

Without warning her stand emerged and took hold of her hand out of the water.

The dial that replaced their wrists twisted as they hovered their palm over hers.

Obstructed for a moment, Vera couldn’t figure out what was going on until the blood drops in the sink disappeared. For a moment she thought the water had rinsed it away but as her stand’s hand moved away from hers the wound in her hand was gone. Not even a scab left in its place.

“Now THAT is a useful trick.” Avdol laughed as her stand de-materialized, Vera turning her hand in front of her in disbelief.

Time and Fortune moved in tandem to one another- at least that was what her stand had her believe. Like time marched beside the changing seasons of the world, time was tied to the Wheel of Fortune.

On her last day in Egypt, Vera sat across Muhammed on the rooftop of his home.

“I see you’ve gotten a good grip on summoning your stand.” He hummed at her stand hovering just over her right shoulder. “Their presence is strong, much less translucent than it used to be.”

Between them sat a tarot deck she had bought on a whim- it’s maker had gingerly opened the box and let her run her hands through the cards, it’s irredescent gold beauty captivating her.

“How much?” She said as she pulled her wallet from her bag.

It was her very own deck and now- with the cards already shuffled and placed face down between them for a reading, she was ready to start her first reading with them.

“Let’s hope there’s not a Death Card for this reading.” Avdol sighed.

She smiled, spreading the cards out onto the dealing mat. With her intent set, she picked two cards- a card that would represent what she had to leave behind and a card that would name her stand.

The first card was flipped and the smug smile on Avdol’s face was all she needed to see.

Six of Swords reversed- “the Resistence to transition.”

Her gaze shot up at the cocky bastard, Vera groaning in frustration. “Yeah yeah yeah, I need to stop fighting my relocation.”

In defiance she flipped the second card and to no surprise the Wheel of Fortune card looked back at her.

“I wish I could say I was surprised.” She sighed.

Avdol chuckler quietly, “So how do you refer to them in your mind?”

Vera shrugged as she put her cards back together. “I just keep calling them Fortune in my head.” Her gaze looked her own stand over- it wasn’t particularly impressive, looking like painted terracotta stacked in disks to make up a body not too different in shape from her own.

“Suits them.”

With a heavy sigh Avdol rose up and guided her down the stairs where her bags and the Speedwagon foundation security stood waiting for her.

She assumed her benefactor must have been a higher up within said foundation if he was going this far to make sure she got the boarding school safely.

Vera rolled her window down and peered up at Avdol, a bitter smile on her face as she sat in the car and he remained standing outside.

“Don’t call me and tell me you’re lonely, this was your idea.” She taunted.

He rolled his eyes and then folded his hands over his forearms.

“I was hesitant to tell you this before but I think its fair you know.” He started and the words that followed had Vera floored.

“You’re the first person I’ve ever met to survive a stand fever. Keep that in mind before you think you’re too weak to go on your own.”

Vera’s widened gaze couldn’t look away from his face, as if her next blink was going to make him disappear before her very eyes.

“You’re serious? The first?”

That same sadness returned to Avdol’s eyes, but a mismatched smile returned briefly as he straightened up once again and with a fold of his hands into his sleeves said: “Don’t let that information go to your head.”

Vera smiled back, watching the window roll up between them and Avdol become smaller in the rear windscreen.

“Oh, this talk is far from over Muhammed Avdol.”

[gunnerpalace]

YoruIchiRuki (Neapolitan Ice Cream) AUs & Headcanons

(Art by @371am​, used with permission and originally posted here; if you like it, please go show your appreciation!)

INTRODUCTION & CONTINUITIES

YoruIchiRuki, or variously YIR, The Idiots, or Neapolitan Ice Cream (so named because Yoruichi: chocolate, Ichigo: strawberry, Rukia: vanilla) is my AU-only OT3 of choice, and I’m here to talk about their major AUs and my headcanons for them! Most of the notes I have are from discussions some years ago with @sequencefairy (Jess), although many other people have contributed as well and I will try to point them out as and when possible. If you find this post interesting, please give me your feedback!

As YIR is explicitly AU-only (because it doesn’t really make any sense at all in anything even really remotely resembling “canonical” Bleach) it’s probably prudent to go over its contexts first. The major AUs are as follows:

Grounded! Modern Continuity - What might be called the “prime” YIR continuity, Grounded! is the original timeline, set in a No Powers, Human, and Modern alternate-history in which Japan colonized the West Coast of North America. Rukia, Yoruichi, and Ichigo are drawn together in a series of comic (yet sometimes angsty) circumstances in the midst of the worst snowstorm in ages, and become entangled going forward. Its revised outline can be seen here, its namesake fic here, and other fics set in its timeline here (with two more associated fics here and here). I am attempting to get back to continuing the main fic in the near future.

Western Continuity - Set earlier in the above timeline (but technically in a parallel universe version of it), the as-yet unnamed Western Continuity is intended to be an east-meets-west fusion set in the Wild West, reminiscent of things such as Sukiyaki Western Django. Currently largely undeveloped. There is, however, a post about some of the aesthetics here.

Samurai Continuity - The as-yet unnamed Samurai Continuity is much the same as Western Continuity, except set earlier still during the Edo period and drawing major inspiration from Samurai Champloo, with Ichigo in a role like Mugen, Yoruichi in a role like Jin, and Rukia in a role like Fuu (searching for Byakuya, “the samurai who smells of sakura”). Currently largely undeveloped.

BattleTech Continuity - The as-yet unnamed BattleTech Continuity is set in a distant future where mankind has colonized the stars, only to divide into five major political powers and descend into internecine warfare, often waged by means of BattleMechs, hulking bipedal war machines. Yoruichi, Ichigo, and Rukia are members of the elite of three of these powers, and wind up serving together as soldiers of fortune due to a strange series of events. The initial outline can be seen here.

Operation GAMER QZGS Continuity - Designed by @synoshian (Lies), Operation GAMER is set in the same timeline as Quan Zhi Gao Shou / The King’s Avatar, a Chinese property (novel, manhua, donghua, and live action series) revolving around an MMORPG called Glory. Taking place five years after that series begins, and focusing on the Japanese (rather than the Chinese) professional scene, it sees Rukia, Ichigo, and Yoruichi as pro-players on different teams who all meet on alternate accounts shortly after the opening of the 15th Server. Although largely undeveloped, there is some nifty art of Yoruichi and Rukia’s in-game characters.

All of the characters are aged up in these scenarios, with Ichigo and Rukia usually being in their early-to-mid-20s, and Yoruichi being in her mid-20s to early-30s, depending (with the youngest age I could see being Ichigo at 18 in the Western Continuity; even Mugen is 19 in Samurai Champloo). The mechanisms of how YIR gravitate together vary by continuity. For example: in Grounded!, Ichigo and Rukia know of each other, but only properly meet each other after Yoruichi makes moves on Rukia; meanwhile, in BattleTech Ichigo and Rukia meet much as they do in Bleach, with Yoruichi entering the picture roughly a month later as usual. What matters to their dynamic is less who makes the first moves, and more who they are as people and how they interrelate.

VISUAL NOTES

Before I move on, I would like to briefly note the visual contrasts each pair of the triad presents. Everyone already knows how Ichigo and Rukia visually contrast one another. Ichigo and Yoruichi have a similar height contrast (as manga-Yoruichi is notably shorter than anime-Yoruichi), a skin tone contrast, and a hair color contrast (orange vs. purple). Rukia and Yoruichi are of fairly similar heights, but again have a skin tone contrast, an eye color contrast (violet-blue vs. yellow), and a body shape contrast (petite but developed vs. curvy but thin).

Each set looks good and distinct from one another optically, and the same is true when they’re all together as a result. I feel that their aesthetic is reflected in the OT3 name of Neapolitan Ice Cream; they’re just really nice to look at together.

LOVE LANGUAGES

To expound on how the three relate to one another, I recently discussed the concept of love languages with @rukia-kuchiki-divided​ (having first been informed of the concept by Jess and having discussed it with her), and she wrote a lovely post introducing the concept and applying it to IchiRuki. I agree with her reading of how it applies to them, and find it useful to expand on what’s presented there as a means of better understanding how YIR interact with one another. My best estimate for a more detailed take on the love languages that each of them hear (desire) and speak (provide), based on “canonical” Bleach, is as follows:

Yoruichi • Desires: 1. Physical Touch, 2. Acts of Service, 3. Quality Time • Provides: 1. Acts of Service, 2. Physical Touch, 3. Quality Time Ichigo • Desires: 1. Words of Affirmation, 2. Physical Touch, 3. Quality Time • Provides: 1. Acts of Service, 2. Physical Touch, 3. Quality Time Rukia • Desires: 1. Acts of Service, 2. Physical Touch, 3. Quality Time • Provides: 1. Words of Affirmation, 2. Acts of Service, 3. Physical Touch

As can be seen, Ichigo and Rukia are almost perfectly reciprocal. (Rukia’s tertiary provision was settled on being Physical Touch rather than Quality Time due to her tendency to bond through token violence, and initially aloof disposition, although it’s a fairly close thing. I think most of the others are essentially self-evident and don’t require much substantiation.) However, it can also be seen that Yoruichi has very strong secondary and tertiary matches across the board. That is what forms the basis of her addition to the triad in all scenarios.

Having at least alluded to the sorts of circumstances under which they come together (and hopefully having piqued your interest!), allow me to elaborate upon that further by explaining the history of the concept, which is strongly related to the writing history of Grounded! itself, before moving on to actual headcanons. 

IDEA HISTORY

When I first came up with the idea for Grounded!, the original intent was for it to be a sort of sexy and comedic one-shot. The short version was, instead of “just as keikaku” shounen shenanigans organized by Kisuke and Aizen leading to Ichigo and Rukia meeting, it’s instead Yoruichi’s desire to live her life the way she wants and enjoy herself that lead to her bringing them together, as she basically steps into their nascent awareness of each other in pursuing a physical attraction to Rukia, and then decides to catalyze them meeting each other by going after Ichigo and then setting the two of them up together. This probably epitomizes it:

“Listen: you could do the normal thing of going on dates and trying to do some kind of long-distance relationship and whatever, and be miserable about the opportunity you might be losing. Or you could trust in my judgment and believe me. You and you,” Yoruichi said, pointing between them, “are like this.” She clapped her hands together, interlinking her fingers.

Ichigo and Rukia flushed and looked at each other with disbelief.

Yoruichi unhooked her fingers and made a circle with one thumb and forefinger, poking the other forefinger through it. “So, you should save us all the drama and just do this already.”

Their expressions shifted to mortification.

Yoruichi shrugged and lifted a hand, rolling her eyes. “If you’re so nervous, I could be there for your first time together,” she teased. She didn’t really believe they’d agree, but it wasn’t like she hadn’t been with both of them.

At that, Ichigo and Rukia both gaped.

She gave a mock frown. “What?”

“No!” they both stated at the same time, looking at one another in surprise.

Yoruichi smiled and held up her hands in surrender before scooting her chair back and sauntering off. She’d expected as much. Besides, it was clearly a mission accomplished.

The pair watched her abrupt departure together before slowly turning their attention toward one another. It wasn’t long until they both flushed.

Ichigo looked away decisively.

Rukia looked down. “Well...”

“Let me take you out to dinner.”

She blinked and side-eyed him.

“I don't know about... all the nonsense she was saying. And you can decide whatever you want. But at least... let me take you out to dinner.”

Which would lead to dinner and a movie and staying over for coffee and one thing leading to another until Ichigo and Rukia lay together, cuddled together under the sheets and blankets

“She was right,” Rukia whispered.

“... Yeah.”

One of her hands spiraled over his chest. “But?”

Ichigo shifted his jaw. How Yoruichi had gone about proving she was right still didn't entirely sit well with him.

She peered up at him lazily. “I guess we owe her.”

There was a long silence.

“Yeah...”

Which led to the idea of the two getting their “revenge” on Yoruichi by rewarding her in kind. All’s well that ends well, and the three were supposed to go their two separate ways.

It was only gradually that the internal timeline of the story expanded and more emotive and genuinely angsty elements started to creep into my notions of it: Ichigo’s self-loathing at being unable to work up the nerve to approach Rukia, Rukia’s loneliness and isolation, the touch-deprivation of both, Yoruichi’s growing realization she made a mess of things by following her own heart, her resolve to “fix” things, and finally and most importantly, her own budding attachment to the two of them.

I started thinking about Yoruichi’s physical attraction toward first Rukia (and then Ichigo) turning into actual feelings. My read of her has always been that she’s much more emotive than she lets on, she just has a fairly tight grip on her sentiments most of the time and tends to keep her observations to herself. But after having slept with both Ichigo and Rukia, and especially the two of them together, I imagined her seeing what they had together and missing it afterward. I thought of her going to Kisuke’s bar and asking if she could sleep in his room just to not be alone at night. And I imagined Rukia and Ichigo missing her too—her playfulness and teasing, her confident smile, her laugh. The more I contemplated that, the more I thought of them returning to her some weeks later to invite her on a proper trip with them, only to find Yoruichi still hurt and lonely and aching for the connection with them. This is where “The Ending” section of the summary of Grounded! (linked above) came in:

Yoruichi frowned and set her expression hard, focusing intently on some point off to the side. When she spoke, her voice carried the gravitas of authority. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Rukia blinked and automatically drew her hands back in confusion.

Ichigo likewise released her as he felt her go rigid.

Yoruichi closed her eyes. “I can understand wanting to pay me back, but you did that already! Do you think I was bullshitting you!? You’re perfect for each other! Hell, it’s like you were designed to be together! You’re like yin and yang, black and white! Why are you trying to ruin it, you idiots?!”

Ichigo and Rukia’s gazes found each other before they glanced to Yoruichi and then looking to either side.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Yoruichi’s tone was low, but in the quiet that had descended over the room it was more than loud enough.

The attentions of the two were instantly upon her again.

Yoruichi clamped her hands around her upper arms tighter yet, letting out a brief, harsh laugh. Her voice grew quieter still. “Do you think I’m stupid enough to believe that there’s any place for me in that kind of thing…?”

A moment passed. Then another.

Rukia bit her lip and looked to Ichigo.

He met her gaze. A decision flickered between them and he turned his attention to Yoruichi, delicately taking hold of her waist again.

She blinked her eyes open in surprise only to freeze as Rukia’s hands returned to her cheeks.

Rukia once more tried to turn Yoruichi’s head—succeeding given her preoccupation—and studied her intently. Yoruichi’s voice had been steady but there was no mistaking the gleam at the outer corners of her eyes. She carefully brought her thumbs up to wipe the tears away.

Yoruichi’s eyes widened in response and she was suddenly aware of her heartbeat hammering in her ears. She looked up, needing to focus on anything but the concern Rukia was radiating for her. “I just wanted you to be happy,” she whispered. There was no space for her in that picture. No room.

Ichigo moved closer so he was lightly pressed to her back, and brought his forehead down to rest against the top of her head, burying his nose against the start of her ponytail. The citrus scent of her hair put him at ease and his arms naturally slid around her waist. “Then come with us.”

She shivered at the contact but didn’t try to pull away.

Rukia released Yoruichi’s hands and slid her arms around her neck, hugging her and pushing her back against Ichigo. The sudden rush of the aromas that so defined Yoruichi filled her thoughts and she found herself relaxing at it. “Please?”

Yoruichi shut her eyes. “But…”

“We’d like you to be there,” Ichigo insisted.

“And we know you’d like it too,” Rukia whispered.

Yoruichi clenched her jaw before dropping her chin so she leaned against Rukia, unfolding her arms. She got one hand around to the back of Rukia’s head and brought the other up onto the back of Ichigo’s.

This is where I came to a conundrum, and then happened to find the solution a few weeks later. Ichigo and Rukia, even in AUs, still often feel like they have the weight of their “canonical” symbolism arrayed about them—their Sun and Moon symbolism in all its resplendent glory. And this is what Yoruichi is alluding to in her criticisms of their actions; how can one fit into such a picture?

It’ll probably sound silly to you when I try to explain it, but there was a video of a black cat that got into a bath tub full of seaweed-based glitter from a Lush bath bomb going around at the time. Someone then drew some art with the caption, “he’s cosplaying the night sky,” and something in my head just clicked. While I reblogged it at the time with, “I know this is a male cat, but: imagine Yoruichi…” the association went deeper than that.

The characters of Yoruichi’s name, 夜一, mean "night" and "one" respectively. There are a number of ways to potentially read her name. The use of numerals in names is often just a counter, so it could mean something like "(first daughter) night," but counters are usually reserved for men. (Presumably, her brother Yuushirou's name, whose characters are "evening," "four," and a suffix for "son," is a similar time reference to his birthday rather than a counter, as there is no evidence Yoruichi had any additional brothers, be it two or three more, whom would presumably be dead.) What I think it might actually be supposed to signify is wordplay on her birthday, as she was born on the 1st of January (thus, on the literal first night).

If taken more literally and combined with her shunshin nickname (usually translated as “Flash Goddess,” but more literally meaning something like, “God of Moving in the Blink of an Eye”), it becomes evocative of a meaning like, “The Goddess Who Disappeared in One Night.” (There was an old name meanings post on the Soul-Society LiveJournal which has since been deleted which affirms this, but her relevant entry is still quoted here.) This was sort of a play on her disappearance from Soul Society, but as an actual character it does her quite a disservice; she is actually quite loyal and sticks around when she wants to. (One could also easily make “one night stand” jokes about her and I think this likewise does her a disservice, but I’ll get into that more later.)

Regardless, her association with the night is very established through her name. It's the dominant component of her name.

And so I thought, “My god, that’s exactly it: she’s the night sky. She’s Space.” What’s interesting about the Sun and Moon is that they do not exist unto themselves. You might initially think of space as nothingness, yet not only is that scientifically inaccurate, but more importantly for our discussion it obscures its role in permitting the Sun and Moon to exist and move around. Space is not nothingness, it’s a place. It is a thing unto itself.

I don’t think Rukia and Ichigo, themselves, are aware of their Moon and Sun symbolism, because that is essentially metatextual to them as characters. But if they were, and they were trying to explain why they wanted Yoruichi to come along with them in the scene above, I think they would say exactly that: “The Sun and the Moon aren't just these Platonic ideals, you know. They exist out in Space. But Space isn't just nothing, doing nothing. And you, you're our Space. You helped make this happen. You’re a part of it.”

I have had this idea in mind from almost the very start of actually taking Grounded! (and YIR in general) seriously, and as I constructed the more detailed love languages chart above, I felt that I was again seeing the same kind of underlying logic borne out in it. My conception of YIR’s dynamics, the way I really see it, might be considered as an expansion on traditional IR dynamics, rather than something bolted onto the side; like going from the set of real numbers to complex numbers, rather than just adding on a new code library to a program.

This has been a somewhat long-winded way of circling back to where we were with that love languages chart, but I felt that addressing the historical process of how this happened was important to explaining it and why I personally feel it’s more than just run-of-the mill crack fic, even if it again makes no sense in relation to “canon.”

INTERPERSONAL RELATIONS

Ichigo and Rukia’s relational mechanism of being (playfully) combative is quite well established. They essentially play fight over petty or inconsequential matters as a way of showing engagement, but there’s a demonstrated understanding and affection underneath such behavior. Their comfort with and ease in being in physical contact and proximity with each other is a reflection of their secondary and tertiary love languages, with their primaries coming out in more serious and meaningful moments. This is not to say that they aren’t capable of being sappy or romantic, but rather that they often code it within their squabbling; arguing and teasing each other is often how they show they care. Consider Rukia’s teasing of Ichigo in chapter 423 of the manga as the archetypal example:

Rukia: What's this? Don't look so sad. Even if you can no longer see me, I will still be able to see you. Ichigo: What the hell? That's nothing to be happy about. And I don't look sad!

The image that Ichigo and Rukia front is one of a pair who seem to argue but do so mostly just to keep things interesting, like an old married couple, which is the main reason why so many people both in the text and reading it assume they are a thing. I think structurally similar but expressively different behavior would happen between the other two sides of the triangle.

Ichigo and Yoruichi’s behavior would often come across as being more like that of “bros.” In “canon,” Ichigo is clearly shown to have hobbies and interests (video games and literature) and to at least engage with other activities even if he doesn’t particularly care about them (sports, pop culture, movies). While the same is not immediately obvious for Yoruichi, it can be inferred she probably has similar token interests as otherwise there’d be precious little for her to do in the Living World. (I have always headcanoned her absence[s] from the Urahara Shop as being her out seeing the wider world.) We’re not talking about Bleach, but I think these behaviors are intrinsic to them as characters, and I think it’s how they’d often connect. They might talk about TV shows, movies, games, sports teams, whatever. I can imagine them setting up a fantasy football league between them, even if they didn’t care about football. The content is not really what matters to them so much as the fact that it provides them something to talk about and bond over, without necessarily being overtly emotional. They would probably also leaven it with physical teasing or innuendo (mostly from Yoruichi’s end, with Ichigo playing the role of straight man in response). The sense you would get as an outsider is a couple who are on the same wavelength and have the same values and interests and are rather physically in tune too.

Rukia and Yoruichi’s behavior would by contrast often come across as “girly.” I don’t mean that pejoratively or necessarily to typecast it. As they’re both proud, independent, and strong women, and are often in positions that require them to present a certain face to the world that relies on those attributes, I think they’d relish opportunities to figuratively let their hair and guards down, relax, and just laugh and smile and have a good time. I think one of the ways this would manifest is that they would see time together as a way of indulging in shared activities, many of which are seen as feminine, such as shopping, gossiping, and enjoying time out and about (such as in restaurants or cafes). A less traditional avenue of expressing it would be shared physical activities. I can imagine them wanting to do things like duos beach volleyball, badminton, paintball, and so on. (Ichigo, although physical and perfectly capable of playing sports, doesn’t seem much interested in them for their own sake; he is ironically the biggest “nerd” of the three.) I think they’d find a lot of commonality and companionship in these shared activities, regardless of what they were actually doing. They’d probably also tease each other and have a back and forth, as they both often tend to like adopting that role (perhaps more physically from Yoruichi’s side, and more emotionally from Rukia’s). From the outside, they would probably seem like a sprightly and sincere couple, more akin to “young love.”

I think what makes the concept of YIR really special to me is what happens when the three of them are all together, because what I see winding up happening is a synthesis of all three of these paired relationships. I imagine it as being fluid and fun. There is this concept in astronomy known as the three-body problem, the simple explanation of which is that when there are three (or more) celestial bodies moving together, it becomes impossible to accurately determine their future motion; there is no general closed-form solution and a dynamical and chaotic system is produced. And that’s exactly how I imagine YIR would work together. One minute, Yoruichi and Rukia would be teaming up to poke fun at Ichigo; the next, Ichigo and Yoruichi would be doting on Rukia and making her feel flustered; the one after, Ichigo and Rukia could be making Yoruichi feel sappy and mushy. From seemingly fairly simple operating rules, one gets very complex interactions that can turn on a dime. And I feel that’s really the joy of YIR as a triad: they’re very high-contrast and have tremendous range together.

I think all four sets of interactions (each pair and the triad) would have strong but subtle elements of verbal teasing and physical touch. Holding hands, light touches here or there (the shoulder, the side, the arm), and more provocative ones (little butt pats or brushes or slaps, or the ladies discreetly rubbing their chests against the recipient of affection), or a whisper in the ear... but I’ll address their teasing and more involved physicality and sexuality in more detail in two later sections.

Even more pronounced than that, however, would be their routine eye contact. Ichigo and Rukia are well known for using their eyes to communicate with one another, and I think Yoruichi would fit into that dynamic quite well, as she’s very visually expressive too. Where and how she is looking at things is a big tell for her mood and psychological state, just like it is for the other two, and I think she would be very good at speaking to them and hearing them in ways they already understand.

I’m working on a sort of compilation fic for @duckiesteasmiles​​ (Nami) called The Many Mornings of Yoruichi, where each entry is a different morning of Yoruichi waking up within a YIR relationship (nominally Modern Continuity), some of which are sweet and fluffy, some of which are spicy and sexy, and some of which are wistful and thoughtful. In one of them:

Her gaze continued to linger in his direction for long seconds until she closed her eyes and turned her head the other way, pressing her lips and nose to the back of his hand. She neither quite kissed it nor merely nuzzled it. His skin smelled good in a way she couldn't really explain, just like Rukia's hair did. Just like all of both of them did. And being like this with the two of them...

They gave her something that was difficult to put into words. It was like the difference between being out on the water and standing on dry land. It went beyond something as simple as a mere sense of stability. For the first time since she was a child, it felt like there was a place for her that she could truly call home. Such a gift, she wanted to both pay it back and pay it forward. She wanted them to have that feeling too, as best as she could possibly manage. Their family situations might not be nearly so estranged as hers, but... she wanted them to always feel that sense of home.

Yoruichi smooched the back of Ichigo's hand and turned her head back toward him and Rukia, quietly sighing in contentment. Did she really have butterflies in her stomach from just this? These two idiots have turned me into such a sap...

I feel like this middle paragraph is true for all three of them, if each in their own ways. In Bleach, it seems evident to me that Ichigo and Rukia create a sense of home for one another, and it manifests in the familiar and expected, the little things that fill in the gaps in their lives. I think things would be much the same for YIR.

A big part of that, I think, would be homemaking—mundane and domestic things through which they could show their care and affection. Things like washing the dishes together, going out for groceries, meeting each other at the arrivals gate and acting as chauffeurs for one another (Yoruichi would mostly drive, although sometimes Ichigo would), and collapsing on the couch together to watch TV or movies, or play games, or just lounge after they've had long days. Yoruichi would put away leftovers but always make sure there was lunch for them for the next day, Rukia would remember to pick up the juice she knows they like when she's at the store, and Ichigo would bring little things home for them when he comes back from wherever he's been travelling.

I think they would all take to cooking for one another. Yoruichi would do a lot of it and would be responsible for the majority of meal prep, and be the closest thing they had to a chef. Ichigo would only really be good at making a small set of about a half-dozen (hearty) hings, and they would often look a bit sketchy, but they’d taste fantastic (think like that one really ugly cake Gordon Ramsay hated to admit tasted great). Rukia is more into making fiddly pastries and desserts. They’d often wind up dividing dinnertime efforts between them (almost like an Iron Chef team) and sometimes it’d all go wrong and they’d have to order pizza, but they always have fun with it.

It feels like, by virtue of her choices in life (especially military service) and spending a lot of time living alone, Yoruichi would be primed to know the most about domestic activities (keeping things neat and tidy and clean, doing chores) and would try and set examples that way, even and especially when their schedules didn’t really line up. So, Ichigo and Rukia would come home to find everything in order and ready for them, and meals cooked in the freezer they could heat up. I think they’d always be kind of shocked she tried so hard, but that’d be part of how she justified her role in it to herself: she’d want them taken care of so they could be excellent, because that's what she was wanting and trying to do from the start.

And they’d take it up too and reciprocate it; when she was away from home for a while and they weren’t, they’d do the same for her—both of them realizing it was one of the ways she would tell them she loves them without saying it, and remembering to do it in return. Ichigo would perform a lot of this, sort of standing in as Yoruichi’s second in command in this regard, and also take on a lot of the “manlier” responsibilities like mowing the lawn, raking leaves, cleaning out the rain gutters, and so on. I imagine him becoming handy around the house and doing a lot of the heavy, tedious, or mindless things.

Meanwhile, Rukia would focus more on supporting morale, leaving around little notes and messages and reminders for them to keep up their spirits; things like fridge magnet messages or little framed photos or collages, cheery messages by text or chat or on social media. She’s the one who’d tell them both all the time how much she loves them—she's the one who would (eventually, because she’s stubborn sometimes herself) say that she misses them, who’d call when it was late and she thought they might be lonely, and when and she wanted and needed (however privately) to hear from them. She'd always be there with the right words at the right time; psyching Ichigo up before a big case, helping Yoruichi navigate a difficult co-worker situation... Rukia would always know what to say and when. (This, by itself, might move Yoruichi less, initially, but I think she would always appreciate the intent behind it.)

I think they’d also have interesting relationships with one another’s relatives. Ichigo would have to field some interesting questions from Karin and Yuzu and deal with some absurdities from Isshin (or Masaki!). Rukia and Yoruichi might work with Kuukaku to shield Ichigo from the public spotlight on the Shiba. Little things like that. Byakuya would probably be more than a little protective of Rukia and have interesting interactions with Yoruichi and Ichigo. Early on in the relationship, he might wind up getting into a staring contest with Yoruichi over the whole thing. Ichigo would back her up without question, and he’d just look between the two of them for a time before stating, “I know you will treat Rukia well.”  Later, Yoruichi would be annoyed at Ichigo and be all, “I didn’t need you to do that,” and he'd be like, “Yeah, yeah, I know, Captain.” 

(In the Modern Continuity, at any rate, Byakuya initially does not really approve, but also does not really disapprove. He sometimes checks in with Rukia by phone, and can occasionally hear Ichigo and Yoruichi yelling at each other in the background. This sometimes seems like an actual argument but is of no substance and is just about some surreal nonsense. [What is “Dance Dance Revolution” anyway?] Kuukaku catches him brooding about it after the calls sometimes, and is always touching a shoulder and intoning, “If she's happy, it’s fine.” “I know,” he says. Eventually, he really does come to believe it and respect the other two. In the other continuities, and especially BattleTech, it’d be... more complicated still.)

I also think the three would have a lot of intimate moments that weren’t sexual. Things like: Yoruichi and Rukia waiting for Ichigo to come home so they could surprise him with the contrasting lingerie they bought together; Ichigo and Yoruichi drawing a bath with candles and rose petals and scented wash for Rukia, sitting beside it and keeping her company while she soaks and then massaging her together; or Ichigo and Rukia laying out a candlelit dinner for Yoruichi and pulling her over to a fire place to sip wine with her, giving her just enough to loosen up but not enough to lay her out. (Yoruichi is “canonically” a total lightweight, although I sometimes headcanon that she developed a strong aversion to alcohol in her past; Nami has come up with a cute headcanon that she pops her hair-tie off and lets her hair down when she drinks, like Chisato in Love is Like a Cocktail.)

Hell, even the way they jockey for position in front of the mirror in the morning to brush their teeth together strikes me as cute.

To make a long story short, I think they could have a very mature and nuanced but still fun and playful relationship that winds up mutually supporting all of them.

TEASING

In my opinion, one of the other great joys of YIR is how they’d tease each other. I think their teasing of one another in public or private would be quite multifaceted, especially through repartee.

Yoruichi and Rukia would always be teasing Ichigo just for the fun of it; going to the bathroom together, shopping for clothes and going to the dressing rooms at the same time, it wouldn't matter. Always leaving him standing there in the store with the pile of bags or at the table with drinks and coming back giggling to each other and flushed. Maybe a third of the time they’d actually have done something, and the rest they’d just pretend they had, working each other up to the teasing by critiquing each other's acting and telling jokes. And he’d know, and play along even if they caught him off-guard:

“I know you're just saying these things.”

“Do you?” they both asked with raised eyebrows

They’d also always be being wing-women for one another, winding him up. They might be at a restaurant and:

Ichigo’s eyes instinctively tracked Rukia as she went to go get a bottle of ketchup from another table.

Yoruichi leaned sideways and brought her lips to his ear. “Did you know she's wearing crotchless panties?” she breathed.

He abruptly reddened.

She give his earlobe a kitten lick, adding, “So am I,” then smoothly leaned back into place before Rukia could return.

When she did so she stopped and studied him, noting the sweat at his hairline. She adopted an exasperated look. “Did you order your food too spicy again?”

Or Ichigo and Rukia might be laying on recliners poolside while Yoruichi is stretching some distance away before hitting the pool:

“Oi, Ichigo,” Rukia said mildly.

“What?”

“Have you ever noticed how well that swimsuit defines her mound?”

“Don't say things like that!”

Rukia grinned impishly at him.

And Ichigo would, of course, sometimes get them back:

Rukia: Don't act like you know my favorite kind of chocolate, fool. Ichigo: Of course I do. Yoruichi: So, what is it then? Ichigo: The same as yours: salted. Both ladies blink and then flush. Ichigo: The same as how I know your favorite pies are— They clasp their hands over his mouth while glaring at him.

But his main method of retaliation would be being really good at inappropriately hot goodbye kisses that leave whichever of them he’s kissing breathless and reaching for him as he steps back. That and he’d be good at low-key yet also really flagrant public displays of affection that give away they're a unit, like swatting or groping their asses, though he’d also be good at timing them so nobody else saw them.

This kind of teasing would extend across a wide range of scenarios too. Imagine, if you will: Ichigo and Rukia are sitting down for dinner in a really fancy restaurant; Ichigo has on a very fitted black tuxedo, Rukia has on a slinky black cocktail dress with lots of bling, and they're waiting on Yoruichi, who said she’d meet them there. When she walks in, she’s got on a white tuxedo jacket like James Bond (although her lapel flower is orange; I headcanon it as her favorite color) and the other two just kinda stop and stare because that is not at all what they were expecting, but damn.

Yoruichi: What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue? Ichigo: ... Rukia: I think he’s just realized he’s kinda gay for you in that. Ichigo: ... Shut up! Rukia: ... I’m a little gay for you in that... Yoruichi: Haha. Only a little~?

When I was contemplating the Samurai Continuity, I thought about them commenting on the show intro of Samurai Champloo as though they were actors playing the roles and seeing the assembled cut for the first time:

Yoruichi: How fitting that Ichigo is symbolized by a cock. Ichigo: I could say the same about the irony of you being symbolized by a fish. Yoruichi: Are you insulting my hygiene, you bastard!? I don't recall you complaining about it last night when you had your head down there for an hour! Rukia: Shut up, both of you! How could I possibly be expected to eat so much food? It’s ridiculous!

In the same setting, I sort of imagined that Yoruichi and Ichigo would sleep together first given all the crackling tension between them (not quite a hatefuck the first time, but something competitive, rough, and passionate and not exactly loving) but would refuse to admit they had a thing together even afterwards:

Yoruichi: Me? With that orange-haired brat? Ichigo: With that purple-haired bitch? Yoruichi: With his stupid chocolate eyes? Ichigo: With her arrogant, gleaming, little canine-toothed smirk? Yoruichi: His oxen, large, dumb, wide shoulders. Ichigo: Her prissy, smug, sashaying hips. Yoruichi: Always getting you vice-like in those big, strong hands... Ichigo: Always shoving her chest into you every chance she gets... They both blush and go quiet. Rukia, in the background: GOD, JUST FUCK ALREADY! Yoruichi and Ichigo, turning: SHUT UP, HOW DO YOU KNOW WE HAVEN’T!?

I think Yoruichi would often indulge Rukia’s flights of fancy and cuteness. Going back to Grounded!, I can imagine them subjecting Ichigo to “The Thrilling Adventures of Chappy and Kitty” while he’s trying to work from home:

Yoruichi, wearing cat ears: He’s just mad because he doesn't have an animal associated with him, nyan.  Rukia, wearing bunny ears: That’s right! You’re just a strawberry, pyon! Ichigo: Seriously, it’s annoying, stop it. Rukia: Fool. Yoruichi, luridly: You plan on making us? Ichigo: Hmph... you wish! Rukia: You know, bunnies are famous for nibbling, and kitties for licking... Yoruichi leans over and gives Rukia a cute peck on the cheek followed by a small lick. Yoruichi: Maybe he doesn’t want to play~

A random little teasing scenario:

Yoruichi got her arms around Rukia’s shoulders from behind and put her in a light and playful choke hold, poking her head out to one side and leering at Ichigo. “Oi, wanna know how to make her squeal like a schoolgirl? I can tell you~”

I really just cannot emphasize enough how much I love their banter and playfulness and the different forms it can take, from mature and witty to childish and bratty.

ANGST

I don’t think YIR’s relationship would always be sunshine and rainbows. I think each of them has their own trauma to deal with, regardless of the timeline. In every one of these continuities (although not every possible continuity), Rukia would be dealing with the death of Kaien, and Ichigo would be dealing with the death of a parent (often Masaki, but as time goes on I think it’s increasingly more interesting that Isshin die instead). That’s well-established. But I also think Yoruichi has her own sources of angst too, albeit perhaps not as severe.

In “canon” Bleach, Yoruichi is shown as having given up everything in order to live on her own terms. This is often presented as no big deal, and as having been her choice, but I often get the sense that it added a contemplative and possibly even morose side to her. (If you made me pick two songs for her, one would be a song I had her choose to do karaoke to in a fic, Bon Jovi’s “It’s My Life”, and the other would be a remix of Lana Del Rey’s “Born To Die”.)

I imagine the same is true of the various versions of Yoruichi in each of these continuities. I think many of them also have their own additional traumas. Yoruichi in Grounded! had some unpleasant experiences during the Gulf War (having had to eject and evade capture on the ground overnight), while Yoruichi in BattleTech would have seen (and done) a fair share of nasty things as Coordinator and as a mercenary, and the Yoruichi of the Samurai Continuity and the Yoruichi of the Western Continuity both probably would’ve done more than a little maiming, if not outright killing.

The result is that I see all three of them as burdened with some degree of PTSD, which would occasionally take the form of moods or nightmares. An example of the former, for Yoruichi:

Ichigo quickly finished shredding the pieces of chocolate he'd picked out and sprinkled them over the bowl of ice cream, peeking through the kitchen's breakfast bar into the living room.

Yoruichi's hair poked up above the back of the couch, unmoving.

He grabbed a spoon and slid it into the bowl, got a paper towel, and made his way out into the living room, going around to the other end of the couch so as not to walk in front of her.

Drawing nearer, he sat down next to her, scarcely hazarding a glance her way. He didn't have to, really.

Sometimes she would cry, but he had never seen it. She wouldn't ever let him see. Not even Rukia had ever seen it happen either. But he'd heard it, and listening to it was like standing in a rain made of nails. He hated it. Seeing her willingly vulnerable was one thing, but when she was compromised... Ah, there were times he wanted to burn the world down, go out and fight whoever had wronged her, hit them until blood trickled from their mouths like water from a faucet.

Mostly though, when she was in a mood, she'd be sullen. Sometimes with a side order of aggressive irritability if she was provoked. He could tell with a glance that that was how things were at the moment.

Yoruichi was curled up in a corner of the couch, sitting in a fetal position, her arms crossed atop her legs, frowning disinterestedly at the TV.

Ichigo kept his eyes on it. They'd bought a ridiculously large plasma screen after much deliberation, and it was currently playing an episode of Meerkat Manor on Animal Planet. The audio was barely perceptible.

He set the bowl of ice cream on his lap and took a bite, savoring it. It was chocolate chunk ice cream with chocolate syrup and more bits of milk chocolate on top. There was nothing subtle about the emphasis on boosting endorphins. After swallowing the bite, he took up another spoonful, holding it in front of her.

Yoruichi didn't react.

Ichigo kept waiting for a few seconds, then brought it back and ate it himself.

He kept on alternating for four more runs before he felt a tug on the spoon; she'd clamped her mouth over it.

After that they began to switch every bite until the bowl was empty.

Once Ichigo had finally set it on the coffee table, Yoruichi flopped over to one side, resting her head on his lap.

He started to gently rake his fingers through her hair, just carefully combing it out. They had all the time in the world.

I think they would have additional hang-ups that would occasionally beset them. Ichigo might sometimes feel that he didn’t deserve the attention of either Rukia or Yoruichi, let alone both. Rukia could sometimes feel that she was kind of superfluous or a burden upon Ichigo and Yoruichi. And Yoruichi could sometimes feel like she was just getting in the way of Ichigo and Rukia and didn’t deserve such companionship. (This is before getting into uncertainties they might have early on in their relationship together as a triad, which need not necessarily be a smooth process.)

I don’t have strongly developed ideas for hurt and comfort, but the BattleTech, Samurai, and Western Continuities all provide plenty of actual danger on a regular basis that could set up opportunities for it. We all know the lengths Ichigo would go to for Rukia, and vice versa, but I don’t think it’s very hard to imagine what Yoruichi would be capable of if either of them were threatened or injured.

I think that all these things give them an added dimension of complexity, as they’re not just perfectly content and happy forever, but it also gives them opportunities to lift one another up.

ASSORTED SCENARIOS

Within Grounded!, I have a line I like that may or may not wind up fitting in when (if) Rangiku goes to confront Yoruichi on what’s happening during the snowstorm, so I thought I’d include it here:

Rangiku: Kuchiki Rukia could decapitate a man with a meal tray’s plastic knife, and I just watched her giggle and pirouette up and down the shopping mall. What did you do, Yoruichi?

In the post-Grounded! era of the Modern Continuity, the vacation which Rukia and Ichigo invite Yoruichi on, which she assents to, is to the South Pacific, perhaps Tahiti. I can imagine the sand is hot and Ichigo has to carry Rukia and Yoruichi out onto the beach under each arm, like how he held Rukia at the Soukyoku in Bleach; Yoruichi acts indignant at being carried and deliberately makes it difficult by pouting like a kitty. (Maybe on a different day he takes Rukia in a bridal carry while Yoruichi rides piggyback, or vice-versa.) The three of them would have fun putting sun tan lotion or sun screen on each other. Yoruichi might casually strip off her swimsuit, making the other two blush only for her to chide them with, “What? We're the only people here, live a little.” They have a midday nap together on their bleach blanket under a big parasol. Yoruichi teases Ichigo and Rukia by poking them with cold ice pops, saying something like, “Ah, you're all sticky now, somebody will have to clean you off!” only for them to start returning the favor. Clouds roll in in the afternoon and they beat a hasty retreat through the brush to their rented bungalow, laughing in the warm rain that comes down before they make it. They wash off together and the power goes out, so they assemble in a sort of cabana area and listen to the steady rain and surf and thunder together, bundled up with one another. Things like that.

I think that Yoruichi’s lifestyle in the Modern Continuity is relatively austere given her history and background, but still very comfortable. Once Ichigo and Rukia decide they want to move in with her (which would probably happen sometime relatively soon after their post-Grounded! vacation together) Yoruichi would probably set about trying to get them a house, which would be quite nice but not palatial or opulent. 

I think her one eccentric and rich hobby, given her background as a naval aviator, would be having bought and maintained a surplus F-14 Tomcat (probably the unproduced-in-our-reality F-14 Super Tomcat 21) like she flew in the Navy. She’d keep it at a local airport, probably have a mechanic to help her maintain it (could be something Tessai does in his spare time?) and take it up now and then to have fun. I imagine it’d be heavily customized and have a lightning paint job. Anyway, I can imagine her getting really excited to show it off to Ichigo and Rukia and to take them up in it for the first time. (She would probably get a special safety harness and air supply splitter made so Rukia could safely sit on Ichigo’s lap in the rear RIO seat, rather than make them ride separately.) Anyway, I imagine that Yoruichi’s aviator call sign would have been either Flash or Flash Goddess (probably originally earned for her nonchalant and risqué behavior rather than her piloting ability), and she’d have a customized flight helmet. For their first visit, I imagine she’d have gotten them helmets made and would give them their own call signs. A short list I came up with, with @rukia-kuchiki-divided​​, were Glacier, Aurora, Ice Queen, Snow White, or Blizzard for Rukia (although the 3rd is normally an insult, I think it’d be taken as kind of endearing here, like how in “canon” Ichigo at one point thinks of Rukia as “bitch” and Rukia openly calls Ichigo a “brat”), and Anarchy, Mayhem, Skyscraper, Havoc, or Riot for Ichigo (with the 3rd being a reference to both “canon” Getsuga Tenshō and a dig at his height relative to them), with their own custom designs. (There could be a whole fic of Yoruichi just writing out different names and talking to herself about them; I imagine her laughing at Snowpiercer for Ichigo and Snowjob for Rukia.)

(These would probably also be used as their call signs in the BattleTech Continuity.)

I watched Top Gun a lot as a kid and the karaoke scene of The Righteous Brothers’ “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feelin’” has always been in my head as a result, and I can picture Yoruichi hooking Rukia up with a spare Navy uniform and insignia so they could surprise Ichigo at a local bar by replicating it. (Which of them takes whose role is up for debate; I headcanon Rukia as being fantastic at singing and Yoruichi as pretty good, but the idea of Rukia in aviators tickles me more. They could mix it up and both wear sunglasses and treat it as a genuine duet.) Ichigo would be mortified (but enchanted), especially if other people recognized what was happening and joined in on the song.

I like the idea that, although Yoruichi and Rukia start out with their “canonical” haircuts (long and either of Rukia’s shoulder-length haircuts, respectively) that they might eventually decide to synchronize their styles; Yoruichi might cut hers short again (like in Turn Back the Pendulum) to match Rukia’s, or Rukia might grow hers out to match Yoruichi’s, or back and forth. I get these images of Ichigo and Rukia helping Yoruichi with her hair and maybe playfully braiding it too. I feel like Rukia would be sorta fascinated by Yoruichi's hair, just its length and the feel of it. The weight and texture of it would be different from her own (I imagine it’s a little thicker than Rukia’s) and she likes the feel of it spilled over her. This could also be an interesting reason for Rukia to later grow her own out. (Ichigo likes the hair of both and is often touching it or putting his face into it, especially since they’re shorter than him. The scent of it is one of the ways he thinks of home.)

I have this scene in mind of them going out fishing, which is something I feel Yoruichi would’ve picked up at some point before meeting them. I picture all of them out on a dock or in a rowboat real early in the morning, wearing personal flotation devices; the sun's not even come up fully yet, and there’s mist over this pond or little lake they’re on. Rukia is just conked out asleep between the other two, her head on one of their laps and feet and legs on the other’s. Yoruichi looks perfectly content and is just beaming. Ichigo is tired-looking and clearly wondering why he’s there, but he still is because Yoruichi thought it was important they had the experience and, as he thinks about it, it isn’t really so bad. Eventually he smiles despite himself.  

Sometimes I think Yoruichi would be resistant to Ichigo being sappy; their personalities are sort of similar in that they put on a tough exterior, but I think they would break each other down in interesting ways:

Yoruichi crossed her arms and looked aside dubiously. “Oi! I know I’m not her, and you miss her, but you don't have to be so sullen all the—” She stopped as his palms came to rest against her cheeks. Her gaze snapped toward him right as his fingers came to rest against and behind her ears.

Ichigo gently cradled her face and leaned in, studying her.

Her focal point swung from one of his eyes to the other as she searched. His look smoldered but what she saw was cryptic and it gave her pause. She wasn’t worried—she was never worried with him—but something about it made the difference in their sizes abundantly clear, made it obvious just how large and strong his hands were.

A beat passed before he irritably whispered, “I love you too.” He never felt that it needed to be said, but apparently he was wrong.

Yoruichi blinked.

Ichigo moved in closer and dropped his eyelids fractionally. “I’m in love with you too,” he added, with a quieter and almost-not-vexed delivery.

Her lips parted slightly before her eyes swung to one side again and she scoffed. She tried to follow suit with her whole head but found herself gently restrained. A furtive glance back at him had her eyes going wide as he kissed her. She resisted for a moment before leaning into it, reaching up to grasp his shirt with both hands.

He brought a hand around and slid his fingers into her hair, moving the other down to rest on one of her shoulders.

Yoruichi pushed closer and turned her head more to one side, taking in handfuls of his shirt.

I had this idea of the three of them going somewhere cold (Alaska? Hokkaido? Russia? Swiss Alps? Canada?) and having to wait around in a space that’s not really heated. Yoruichi’s wearing a round ushanka, while Rukia has on a flappy-eared one that’s just a touch too big. Ichigo takes off his coat and drapes it over both of them, who huddle up under it (as it’s big enough to fit them both), and:

Rukia: Idiot, you’ll catch a cold. Yoruichi: We're not babying you if you get sick. Ichigo: Shut up!

Maybe later they wind up in front of a fireplace together, curled into one another. Rukia has long since started calling Yoruichi “fool” as well, it being one of her signs of affection and care. They continue their gentle backbiting:

Yoruichi: Brings back memories, huh? Rukia: Fool. Ichigo: You know she has a thing for us tying her up, she just wants us to do it again. Yoruichi: I do not!

The three of them regularly alternate who is being spooned and who faces who. Yoruichi and Rukia take turns in the middle and change up who they face; Ichigo is usually only in the middle when he’s on his back and they can cuddle into his sides. Both Yoruichi and Rukia steal some of Ichigo’s t-shirts and boxers to use as pajamas and start to share them interchangeably. Whenever one of them has to go off for a couple of days, somehow one of his shirts is always mysteriously packed into their bags, and Ichigo never says anything about it. (They get him back by sometimes smuggling pairs of their underwear into his luggage with cheeky little notes.)

Ichigo is a t-shirt and boxers kind of guy when it comes to lounging or sleeping clothes, although he’ll swap out for long-sleeves and plaid lounging pants when it’s cold enough. Rukia has several sets of cute pajamas that she uses, in addition to items stolen from Ichigo. Yoruichi is highly variable, and sometimes can be found in odd combinations like a turtleneck, her panties, and long fluffy socks. In the winter she's prone to sprawling out in beams of sunlight filtering in through the windows and disrobing to catch the same; in the summer she might be found laying around in just her panties or Ichigo's boxers, fanning herself and complaining about the heat until they turn on the AC (both are very distracting).

Their soaking tub is spacious but isn't really properly big enough to hold all of them, so sometimes they share lap space, and both Rukia and Yoruichi are always glaring at Ichigo and warning him about funny business (as if they don't sometimes do things in the tub).

Rukia: There’s a time and a place, Ichigo. Ichigo: Watch those hands, Yoruichi. Yoruichi: Maybe watch where you've got your feet, Rukia.

In the Samurai Continuity, I can imagine them running out of food to eat like Mugen, Jin, and Fuu do, and Yoruichi's like, "Ichigo, you're the biggest, you have to eat more," and he's all, "No, shut up, I'm fine, there's enough here for you two." Yoruichi falls silent. Rukia continues protesting instead, only for Yoruichi to touch her arm to get her to stop because she knows what he's doing. Ichigo can take it better than they can precisely because he is bigger, and he’s always going to try and protect them first.

A little scene about comforting and snuggling together:

Ichigo cinched his arms a little tighter around Yoruichi's waist. There was a long silence. “Are you cold?”

She shook her head faintly against his chest. “No.” He was putting out enough warmth for two.

He shifted and brought his face down into her hair and inhaled. The orange and saffron scent underlying the spice and musk of her aroma made it smell bright and sunny despite its indigo hue. It was different but... right. “You smell good,” he eventually whispered.

A small chuckle escaped her. “You're such a sap, but you're not so bad yourself.”

“I mean it.”

A pause passed. “I know.”

“Yoruichi—”

“You're tired, get some rest.”

He gently squeezed her sides. “Hey.”

He used his grasp to draw her up while shifting down so they were face to face on the pillow they were sharing.

She studied him curiously.

Ichigo did the same before looking aside. “You shouldn’t need any more convincing that I’m a man, not a boy, so don’t treat me like one.”

Yoruichi blinked before smirking slightly. “Is that right?”

He locked eyes with her again. “I’m glad you're here.”

There was a pause before she looked down.

He started to rub her back and neck to assure her through touch. “And not because Rukia isn't.”

She just quietly pressed in a bit closer.

I feel like Yoruichi would have the least personal sense of “ownership” of the relationship, since she would have lingering doubts about her place in it, and Rukia would have the most. Ichigo thinks of them as “his girls,” but Rukia... Rukia views herself as theirs after a time, and accordingly, they’re hers. Not in some transactional or proprietary way, but just... it’s like her with that soul ribbon in the first ED of Bleach: it just is. And i think that’s where her knowing what to say often comes in, because she does have that perspective. She can ferret out when, say, Yoruichi is feeling like maybe she doesn't belong to them as much as they belong to each other, and Rukia is the one who brings her back, who reminds her that they are three—that two was nice, but three is best.

You might imagine her curling into Yoruichi and quietly stating, “I love you,” and Yoruichi's just kind of at a loss for words, so Rukia repeats herself and waits for Yoruichi to say it back. Yoruichi would feel... maybe a little overwhelmed at the quiet declaration, because it would never be a big or loud thing with Rukia, just firm and quiet and brooking no argument. And this is also why, for as much as Yoruichi and Ichigo wind up curled around Rukia, sometimes Rukia conspires with him to just snuggle Yoruichi between them:

“She's got better ‘pillows’ anyway,” Rukia stated.

Ichigo blinked and flushed, looking away. “There's nothing wrong with yours.”

She glanced to him dubiously but still cracked a thin smirk.

Yoruichi is often physical in showing her concern;  sometimes she plays it up and hugs Rukia’s head to her chest, and other times it's just very natural. Ichigo she can only really tease properly when he's sitting in some fashion; neither ever really objects much, no matter how ridiculous they think she's being.

They all drink coffee and tea alike. Yoruichi likes her coffee with sugar and cream, and her favorite tea is a heavily spiced chai. Ichigo likes his coffee black, and his favorite tea is Earl Grey. Rukia likes fancy dessert coffees (like Starbucks Frappuccinos) and likes white and green teas. Yoruichi is the one who actually makes coffee, while Rukia tends to make the tea.

Yoruichi is probably the only one who is really even remotely a morning person, although by habit rather than by choice. Making coffee is like her early morning ritual and meditation to start the day, and including their favorites into that routine just gives her more time to wake up naturally. On work days she likes to let them sleep in—she slides out of bed, careful not to jostle them, but sometimes Ichigo will wake up anyway and reach out for her before settling back when she pats at his hand. It also gives her a chance to have a bit of quiet in the morning and think about things. The sounds and smells of breakfast are often what wake Ichigo and Rukia.

They make an effort to bathe together whenever possible; although they wake up with breakfast, the shower and bath is when they really start their days. It’s a bonding thing for them. (They probably shower both morning and night, but bathe whenever they have the time.)

I sorta like the idea that Yoruichi is a loud and kind of angry gamer, which Ichigo and Rukia regard as kind of an endearing quirk given how put together she is most of the rest of the time. I can see her being really mean on mic to annoying pre-teens. “Yes, I’m a girl, you prepubescent brat! What’s your excuse for sounding like one other than that your balls haven’t dropped yet?!” Ichigo and Rukia just kinda look at each other when she really starts popping off; Ichigo goes over to start to massage her and she sinks into the couch, grumbling and focusing up on whatever she’s doing.

Ichigo is kinda ticklish, Rukia is not all that ticklish, and Yoruichi is very ticklish and she absolutely hates it.

SEXUALITY & PHYSICALITY

My personal read of these characters, which I invoke in these scenarios, is that Yoruichi is pansexual, and Ichigo and Rukia are both something approximating demisexual, with at least Rukia (and possibly Ichigo) being bisexual. (I think in “canon” a strong case could be made for them both being closer to but not necessarily purely at asexual, while Yoruichi could be read numerous ways, but that is neither here nor there.) These are, of course, only my interpretations. 

At any rate, Yoruichi is usually experienced (somewhere between fairly and quite so depending on the scenario; I imagine she and Kuukaku could have fooled around when they were younger, and that in more recent times she has had Kisuke as a lover, but that the two of them are an off-again, on-again thing) and views sex as a fun, normal, and healthy way of physical and/or emotional bonding; Ichigo is uniformly a virgin but is old enough to not be a stammering fool about it; and Rukia is either a virgin or may have had a sexual relationship previously (if so, with Renji) but is not very in tune with her sexuality or sexual desires to begin with.

It might initially seem like Yoruichi trains both Ichigo and Rukia, being the one who moves first physically and the one who’s got more experience, but I don’t think she herself or either of them think of it that way. Yoruichi would always be more interested in coaxing the other two, in helping them to figure out what they like and want, and encouraging them to explore it. That would quickly get turned back around on her as they grew more confident, as they would start to return the favor to her. Personally, I think that Ichigo is often physically dominant, but loves to serve and please. Rukia and Yoruichi can both be dominant themselves (with him or with each other) but also like being submissive; Rukia enjoys the comfort and safety of the headspace it puts her in, while for Yoruichi it heightens her pleasure more than she could imagine. I think this would be a surprise to Yoruichi, and eventually she’d come to realize that she had always still been keeping up walls in her past relationships to try and maintain some control. Ichigo and Rukia would be the first to really break through those, which would give her all kinds of feels and open her up more to trying things she had only rarely explored with partners before. (As examples, I think Yoruichi would have a thing for light bondage and anal sex, but only have tried them with other people a scant handful of times.) Their process of discovery would not at all be a one-sided thing, and I think they’d be very sexually active (probably having orgasms only every other day at the longest stretch).

If I had to pick words to describe what sex is like for each of the pairs, for Ichigo and Rukia it’d be cosmic (powerful and beautiful, breathtaking) for Yoruichi and Rukia it’d be oceanic (constant motion and energy, unifying) and for Ichigo and Yoruichi it’d be tectonic (earth-shattering and resonant, awesome). Just like with the rest of their behaviors, when they were all together, it would vary and oscillate among the three. However, sex between them wouldn’t necessarily always be a big production or need to go both ways either. I think they wouldn’t think much of pulling clothes down (or dipping their hands into them) and using their digits and mouths on each other, depending on the mood. I think they’d all just be very invested in making one another feel good, and that could be quick and servicing or slow and mutual as the case might be.

The three would always wind up appreciative of one another in states of undress, although Rukia and Yoruichi would be more circumspect and covert about it. Ichigo doesn’t hide his admiration, sometimes earning him rebukes, but those incidents really only tee him up to say something sappy and adoring, which usually result in the other two getting annoyed at how gooey it makes them feel. Sometimes they reward him by showing off, Rukia usually emphasizing her ass, and Yoruichi her chest. Yoruichi might turn quick so she swayed and bounced, put her hands on her hips and lean forward, say something like, “If you want to have a look you can always just ask, you know. I don't mind,” then lift her arms up and stretch. Rukia might lean forward or bend over to show off more, use a hand to pull a cheek aside and waggle her eyebrows, say something like, “If you see something you like, you should give a compliment.”

Something that would melt Ichigo and Yoruichi's hearts would be having Rukia between the two of them, arched and trembling, weakly clutching at them and moaning out, "Yoru... Ichi... go..." Hearing their names co-mingled like that, they'd be filled with thoughts of how they've got to protect her, they've got to deliver her, they've got to give her everything and be one with her. And afterward Ichigo would pull Yoruichi tight to gently squish Rukia between them, Yoruichi not much less spacey than Rukia would be. Rukia might be gathered between them, face buried in Ichigo's neck and Yoruichi pressed up against her back, the pair of them grounding her to the earth.

Yoruichi and Rukia sometimes pair off together while Ichigo is left in the dust recovering from his refractory period, and they make him watch. He'd always be astonished at seeing them together, how they can keep on and on, and always be kind of struck by, Why... do they need me...? and I don't think he'd ever fully get over it, but it would inspire him to always try and be worthy of them, and sometimes give them cause to reassure him.

“Fool. You think we'd just... always be doing this without you?” Rukia asked.

He turned and stayed silent. Why not?

Yoruichi maneuvered around so he she was in front of him, cupping his jaw. “We need you too.”

Ichigo's eyes widened as they met hers.

Rukia pressed against him from behind. “Who else is going to make us feel safe, idiot?”

Yoruichi tapped a finger above his heart. “And it's not like you're bad...” she purred.

“Not bad at all,” Rukia added quietly.

"There's some things toys just can't do,” Yoruichi mused, looking deep into him.

Ichigo's face heated. “Well. I...”

Rukia grinned, pressing against him. “Fingers and tongues and toys are good and all, but...”

"Nothing like a man who knows how to use what he's got,” Yoruichi finished, and she and Rukia shared a meaningful look.

Ichigo cleared his throat.

“A toy doesn't feel warm like sunlight.”

“It doesn't tangle fingers in your hair and smoothly pull your head back.”

“It doesn't clutch at your hips.”

“It doesn't tremble between your thighs.”

“It doesn't curl up with you after and tell you it loves you.”

And he quietly thought, But, you can do that to each other... And yet, even so, his cheeks went red and he just kind of sank between them as they petted and stroked at him and whispered sweet nothings that eventually became soft kisses here and there.

When they’re separated due to travel, I think they would remember each other in different ways. Much of it would be domestic and fluffy, but when their thoughts turned to intimacy, the focus would be a little different for each of them. I think that Ichigo would remember sights and feelings: Yoruichi on her back and Rukia atop her, their legs interlocked so as to spread each other and both of them looking back over their shoulders at him expectantly and hungrily, and how that made his chest clench around his heart. Yoruichi would recall images and physical sensations: Ichigo and Rukia moving together, Rukia spread under her, the feeling of Ichigo’s hands tangled in her hair, the tastes and smells of them. Rukia would focus on emotional memories, of what it felt like in the afterglow and during aftercare: Yoruichi and Ichigo curling around her and the way she felt safe and warm in their arms, the way it felt like they built a boundary between her and the world. (Rukia would still sometimes think of particular things though; things like images of Yoruichi between her thighs, while Ichigo held her from behind—his voice in her ear, a low rumble of all the things he was going to do to her when Yoruichi was finished...)

I think, when they were paired off with Ichigo due to the absence of the other, Yoruichi and Rukia would be intrigued with how he treated the other. I imagine they'd watch each other often when they were all together; sometimes it might be all three of them at once, but other times they'd take turns. Rukia might be fascinated by the contrast in Ichigo and Yoruichi's skin and the difference in the way they moved, the power of them. Yoruichi might be bewitched by the tenderness Ichigo showed Rukia, the softness of them even when they were rough together. So you might have, with Ichigo and Rukia:

Rukia ended the kiss and dipped her head, bringing the fringe of her hair to rest against Ichigo’s chin. She gently squeezed his shoulders and pressed closer.

His fingers dug into the sides of her waist appreciatively.

She let out a small sound and pressed her face down against his neck, getting secure against him. Being so close seemed to distort things, as if she was in a deep gravity well. She closed her eyes. “Ichigo...?”

“Hmm?”

She spiraled her pointer fingers against his collarbones with a touch of uncertainty. “Um...”

He began to massage her sides in reassurance. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing’s... wrong, I just—” She broke off and pulled her head back, looking up at him.

Ichigo met her gaze.

Rukia looked between his eyes, wondering at how soft they were—always so soft for her. She looked down again. “I want you to treat me like you do Yoruichi,” she whispered.

He blinked.

“I’m... not made of glass, Ichigo,” she murmured. She loved how tender he was with her, but... He was always powerful with Yoruichi, even when he was slow with her, and the two of them always looked... so damn sexy! The more she’d seen of it, the more she wanted it for herself. She wanted to feel that power, that strength, that energy.

Ichigo soon reached a hand up to brush her hair. “No, you’re not.”

Something about his tone made Rukia bite her lip, and she pressed her head toward his hand, appreciating the contact for a short time. She then released his shoulders and carefully turned around, getting her legs astride his and pushing back firmly against him before slowly starting to roll her rear suggestively against his hips.

He gripped her sides firmly. “Rukia...”

She turned her head fractionally to look at him out of the corner of her eyes, asking with them. She needed to know what it was like.

And with Ichigo and Yoruichi:

Yoruichi softly bit Ichigo’s tongue to signal an end to the kiss, wrenching her lips away from his and sliding her head forward so they were cheek to cheek.

He turned his head toward her neck to follow on as he pushing her up against the fridge more firmly, squeezing handfuls of her ass.

She let out a needy moan and pressed her cheek to his, drawing her arms tighter around his neck and tangling her fingers in his hair. “Ichigo.”

“What?” he whispered, his impatience hanging from every letter of the word.

“Wait.” It was a soft instruction, but an instruction nonetheless.

Ichigo paused and blinked, very deliberately focusing on her. She’d never been one for delays. A little silence rolled out between them before his eyelids slid halfway shut again. “What's wrong?”

“Don't assume something is wrong,” Yoruichi chided mildly, slowly arching a little to push her rear into his hands. She waited a few breaths, beginning to brush through his hair. “I want to try something different,” she eventually conceded.

He started to rub his cheek against hers as a memory returned to him of something very much like this. “Different? How...?”

Yoruichi lowered her head a little. “Treat me like Rukia?” He was so caring and patient with Rukia—always making love to her in the most passionate yet considerate way. She loved what she had with him—it was always fun and satisfying—but she’d seen them so many times and she increasingly found herself wondering...

Ichigo looked askew at the side of her head for long seconds before lowering his face, snuggling her against the refrigerator door. “You know... Last time, she asked me to treat her like you.”

She blinked in surprise.

A little smile curved his lips and he gave her neck a soft kiss, musing on the irony. “Did you two plan this?”

“No!” she denied in a sharp whisper, only for her eyes to widen as he squeezed her ass again, very differently. The motion was smooth, celebratory, and made her shiver—something about it made her soul ache with recognition.

“Okay,” Ichigo promised, standing up and pulling her away from the appliance. He held onto her securely as he bore her to the bedroom.

Yoruichi faintly bit her lower lip at the sudden change in his attitude but clung to him, offering no resistance or further comment.

All three of them quite like one another’s scents and flavors (although Ichigo and Yoruichi regard Rukia as primus inter pares and think she’s the best) and they’re not shy about it. You can imagine Yoruichi mocking the old Tootsie-Rolls commercial line while she and Rukia are holding Ichigo, whose cock is covered in magic shell topping: “How many licks does it take to get to the creamy center...?”

CONCLUSION

There is even more (as there are a dozen or so little in-progress fics and ficlets scattered around, mostly for Modern Continuity) but that’s the end of all the notes I have on hand for now. If you made it this far, thank you, and I hope you found this charming or persuasive, or at least entertaining! If you did, please leave me your thoughts! 

[dannyphannypack]

Happy Holiday Truce!

Surprise! I’m your secret Santa, @dannyphantomisameme ! I took your two ideas of the trio together in less-than-happy circumstances, and came up with this! kind of a hurt/comfort oneshot. I’m sorry it’s so late! I wanted to post this on Christmas, but it’s two hours into the 26th of December and I’m just now uploading it. I read through a draft I had written earlier this month and completely scrapped it, haha. This one isn’t much better, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless :)

As a side note, I had this all italicized and what-not, but Tumblr took it out. Let me know if anything is unclear.

It had been a month since the accident, and he still barely had any control.

Danny Fenton walked behind his friends with his head down. Sam was complaining about something her parents did the other night. Tucker had his nose in his PDA and was tripping over his own feet because of it.

Danny hadn’t told his friends about the accident. He didn’t know why. They were his best friends, and he knew he could trust them with anything and everything. But admitting what he was … some kind of ghostly abomination … it was too much. His parents had been studying ghosts since they were freshmen in college, and Danny had come to the conclusion that they were nuts around the time he realized Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy didn’t exist. Now, though? Maybe Santa Claus was real …

One month ago, three days before freshman year of high school, Sam and Tucker had been watching a movie at his place. His older sister had left to get psychology books from the nearby bookstore and, despite how straightforward that seemed, Danny knew that Jazz had a tendency to lose track of time. She probably had six equally boring-looking books spread out before her, debating if she should get the one with the science terms or the one with the theories. Meanwhile, Danny’s parents had left to go to the hardware store. Something about their newest invention not wanting to work. Danny had learned to tune them out years ago.

The movie ended a few minutes after Danny’s parents had left. Sam and Tucker had wanted to go into the basement laboratory to check out that invention Maddie and Jack had been talking about, but Danny knew the kind of trouble he’d get in for letting his friends into a highly dangerous, probably hazardous lab without any protection. Besides, he and Tucker had only recently met Sam. Danny felt that if Sam saw the state of the lab, she’d decide his family was too crazy for her to handle and stop hanging out with him. Maybe that was a little drastic, but Danny had an overactive imagination.

His overactive imagination was exactly what got him into trouble that night. After he’d waved goodbye to his friends, Danny went into the kitchen to grab a snack and stopped at the door to the lab. It was pretty inconspicuous looking—just a heavy wooden door that could have led into a food pantry or a storage closet—but underneath the door, a light flashed red across the kitchen tiles.

So he’d done the dumb thing. He had pulled his protective jumpsuit from the cleaning closet, brushed the dust off the front, and put it on. When he opened the basement door, cold air blew back at him. As soon as he stepped over that threshold, from yellow kitchen tile to cold metal, he had sealed his fate.

And now he was here, some sort of half-ghost half-human abomination that turned all of his parents’ research on its head. The worst part … his parents had always believed that ghosts were evil. Always. And Danny was scared because more and more ghostly things were happening to him. He fell through his bed. He absentmindedly floated to the bathroom in the middle of the night. He made the temperature in a room drop several degrees.

It wasn’t just the physical things, though. It was the mental things that really freaked him out. How he had wanted to jump out of his skin when his dad put a large hand on his shoulder. The way he could lose track of time staring at the endless, swirling green haze of the portal. The urge to hop into the air and not come back down.

He fought it. He couldn’t let himself do things like that. They weren’t human. They made him a freak. And if his parents were right about ghosts being evil? If giving into his urges made him more and more like a ghost? Forget it. An image of him as a ghost, laughing maniacally as he reached inside someone’s chest and pulled their heart out, came uninvited to the forefront of his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to block it out. It was bad enough he had nightmares about it, but when he was awake, too? Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. He was losing it.

“You alright?” Tucker asked. Danny whipped his head up to meet his eyes. “Danny?”

“Fine,” he said. “Just stressed out about that English assignment, is all.”

“Ah,” Sam said. “You can always come to me for help, Danny. English is the only subject I’m good at.”

“Thanks,” Danny said, offering a smile. When they both turned around and continued walking, Danny dropped the smile and stared down at the ground again. He tried to focus his attention on Sam and Tucker’s conversation. Anything to keep him from thinking about ghosts.

“Two words, Sam,” Tucker said. “Meat. Connoisseur.”

“That’s a big word for you, Tuck. Mind defining it?”

Tucker used his shoulder to push her. “Meat heightens the senses, and my all-meat streak is fourteen years strong.”

“And it’s about to end,” Sam deadpanned. “The school board finally agreed to try a new cafeteria menu. I wore them down.”

“Wait,” Tucker said, putting out an arm to stop her. “What did you do?”

-

Danny’s stomach turned. He hoped it was the food on his plate that made it do so, but he was nervous that he was losing his appetite or something. Did ghosts eat?

“What is this?” he said, looking up at Sam. “Grass on a bun?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “First of all, that’s a slice of bread. Second of all, it’s shredded lettuce, idiot.”

Danny eyed the meal. “This is it?” he asked. “Isn’t their supposed to be another slice of bread and … something other than wet lettuce?”

“Look,” Sam said, and she folded the single slice of bread and took a bite. Around a mouthful of food, she said, “And you could have grabbed a vegan mud-pie.”

“Sam,” Tucker said, pushing his tray away from him. “Those things looked like mud pies. With mud. From the ground.”

Sam shrugged and took another bite of her half-lettuce sandwich at the same time that Danny got a horrible chill. It raced up his spine and made all the hair on his body stand up.

“Danny?” Sam asked, frowning. “What’s up?”

“Nothing!” he said, trying to look like he wasn’t freaked out of his mind. “Just a chill!”

Behind Sam, in the cafeteria kitchen, a partially transparent lady with sickly green skin floated past.

Danny’s eyes widened. He made a few incoherent noises before he was finally able to stutter out, “Gotta go to the bathroom!”

He raced out the door.

Okay, Danny, he thought to himself. That’s a ghost. What would my parents do? They’d pull out their weapons. I don’t have any weapons.

… Or did he?

No, no way, he chastised. That’s just … that’s just the ghost speaking. Snap out of it, Fenton.

Behind the wall he was leaning on, something crashed in the cafeteria kitchen, followed by a quick scream of surprise from someone who sounded suspiciously like Sam. The cold feeling came back tenfold, making his breath mist in front of him. How’d she get in there? Is she okay?

“Let her go!” Tucker shouted, sounding wobbly.

Oh, God, Danny thought, running shaky fingers through his hair. Tucker, too? I—I can’t just sit here! I have to—I have to—

Another crash. Tucker yelled.

Danny’s vision went green. Before he could so much as blink, he was in the cafeteria kitchen, floating high above the ground. When he realized what he was doing, he lost balance and fell to the ground in a heap. He picked himself up, noticing that he had suddenly donned white gloves. Where—?

He looked up. Tucker was gaping at him. From across the room, in the clutches of some sort of ground beef monster, Sam gaped, too. The ground beef monster growled and flew through the opposite wall with Sam in its grasp. She was gone.

Danny’s vision went green again, but he could see through the haze this time. He was flying again, this time close to the ground. As the wall approached, he instinctively went intangible and flew through it, the same way the ground beef monster had. He got scared halfway through, though, and ducked, which caused him to tumble across the high school hallway and hit the green lockers on the other side. The force of his impact dented the bottom locker, but he nonetheless scrambled into an upright position. “Let her go!” he shouted. At the same time, Tucker appeared at the end of the hallway.

The ground beef monster hissed in his face, spitting chunks of meat into his hair. Like swiping at a fly, it hit Danny with the back of its hand and sent him flying down the hallway. He hit Tucker and they both sprawled across the floor.

By the time Danny looked up, both the ground beef monster and Sam were gone. He stood, hoping for another flash of green that would cause him to inexplicably be able to control his powers, but it never came. Instead, a bright white flash made his gloves and black suit go away. His body felt heavy with the weight of gravity, so he fell onto his hands and knees and took a few big, shuddering breaths.

“Danny?” Tucker asked tentatively. Danny’s eyes widened as he turned to look at his best friend. Tucker’s own eyes were like dinner plates.

“I—”

An angry voice cut him off. “Either of you care to explain why you decided to destroy school property?”

Once again, Danny turned. Mr. Lancer, his English teacher, was crouched beside the locker that Danny had bumped into. It was worse than he initially thought; when Lancer touched the door, it swung open and came off its hinges in a crash. Books and papers spilled onto the floor.

Mr. Lancer scowled and stalked towards them. Without effort, he picked Tucker and Danny up off the ground and led them to his room with a firm hand on either teens’ shoulders. When they reached the door, the principal called out. “Mr. Lancer? Can I speak with you?”

Mr. Lancer pushed the two boys into his room. “Stay here,” he growled. With that nice sentiment, he slammed the door shut behind him.

“So,” Tucker said a few moments later. “How long have you …” He gestured wildly at Danny.

Danny closed his eyes. “I—” he breathed, still in shock. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I wanted to tell you.”

“Clearly you didn’t,” Tucker said, sounding cold.

“Tuck—”

“Whatever,” Tucker said. “We need to go find Sam.”

Danny stared at him.

“So, you know,” Tucker said, gesturing at him again. “Do your thing.”

Danny gulped. “I don’t know how.”

“You don’t know how,” Tucker repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I just watched you.”

“No, I mean …” Danny took another deep breath. “It just happens. I can’t control it.”

“It just happens,” Tucker repeated again, like a broken record. “Why’d it happen before, then?

“Uh …”

“Okay,” Tucker said, leaning against Mr. Lancer’s desk. “What had happened before?”

“It … It got really cold, and then I heard you yell, and I just … I blanked.”

Something in Tucker’s eyes softened. “Because you thought I was in trouble,” he supplied. “Okay, but how do we replicate that?”

Danny looked down at the ground and kicked at the tile floor. “Please,” he murmured, barely audible. “I don’t want to replicate it.”

“Danny,” Tucker said, visibly annoyed. “Sam is in trouble. You realize that?”

“I’m scared.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure Sam is scared, too.”

Danny shook his head. His vision blinked back and forth, from green to clear. “Stop,” he breathed. “Stop it.”

Seeing that his words were having an effect, Tucker crossed his arms and plowed on. “She could be dying.”

Danny put his hands on either side of his head. “Stop it!”

“She could be dead right now.”

Tucker watched as Danny went rigid, his eyes glowing green. It was scary, seeing him like that. For a moment, Tucker wondered if he’d made the wrong decision in provoking him. Then a ring of white light appeared, so bright that he had to shield his eyes. In Danny’s place was … Danny, but different. So, so much different. His hair went shockingly white. His jeans and t-shirt were replaced with a black jumpsuit. Tucker squinted. He recognized it, somehow. He remembered Danny showing him that jumpsuit a few years ago. But … it had been mainly white, not mainly black. It had changed. Like Danny.

So that’s why he’d been acting so weird lately.

Danny grabbed a hold of Tucker’s wrist. He flinched violently, but Danny kept his hold. Even through those white gloves, his hand felt cold. Standing next to Danny was like standing next to an open refrigerator.

He felt himself be lifted off the ground, and then Danny flew the two of them straight through the floor and into the school basement which, apparently, doubled as a meat locker. 

“Whoa,” Tucker breathed as Danny lowered him. His feet touched the ground, but Danny remained floating. Like a bullet, he shot through a wall of cardboard boxes and disappeared from sight. A second later, Sam screamed. Her voice bounced off the walls and created an eerie echo.

Crash!

Tucker ran down the carboard box hallway and turned. Against the wall, leaning on now-cracked cement, Danny groaned. 

“Danny!” Tucker shouted. He dropped down beside him, hands wavering over his form. What if he’d broken a bone or something? How was Tucker supposed to fix that?

“Tuck … ?” Danny mumbled, looking up blearily, his eyes blue once more. He gasped in fear, and at the same time that Tucker turned to see what Danny was looking at, a green bubble popped into existence around the two of them. Milliseconds later, a huge pile of frozen meat hit the shield and flew in every direction.

Tucker looked back at Danny, whose eyes were green again. He had his hands raised. When he dropped them, the green bubble disappeared without so much as a ‘Pop!’

Danny had done that? Tucker marveled. Danny reached out and grabbed Tucker’s wrist, pulling him to his feet and, after that, into the air. The ground beef monster swiped at the boys. Tucker closed his eyes and held his other arm up to block his face from the impact, but nothing happened. They’d flown straight through the ground beef monster’s arm. Using his other hand, Danny reached out and grabbed Sam by the wrist as well. She screeched, very un-Sam-like, and all three of them flew up through the ceiling and through the wall into the open air.

Danny blinked. When he opened his eyes again, they were blue and half-lidded. “Danny?” Tucker asked. Danny looked at him, took a deep breath of relief, and closed his eyes. All three of them fell the few feet there was between them and the ground. Danny transformed back.

“Danny!” Sam shouted, scrambling back. “What—?”

Tucker leaned forward and put two fingers on his wrist. “Oh, thank God, he’s alive,” he breathed. Then, turning to Sam, he said, “We need to get him home.”

In shock, blanking on what to say, Sam shut her mouth and nodded mutely.

-

Danny groaned. He felt like he’d been run over by a truck multiple times over.

“He’s awake!” Sam said, somewhere. Voices floated around him.

Blearily, he opened his eyes. Sam was leaning over him, her eyebrows furrowed. Behind her, Tucker sat with a matching expression. He looked past them at the white ceiling, which was decorated with faded glow in the dark stars.

“What are you guys doing in my room?” Danny asked, pushing himself upright. His head throbbed in protest, making him wince.

“Do you remember anything?” Tucker asked.

Danny blinked, confused. “Remember anything? I—” he started, but it all started coming back in bits and pieces. A ground beef monster. Flying. Grabbing Sam. Tucker finding out.

Tucker finding out.

Tucker finding out!

Danny jumped, sitting completely straight now.

“Whoa!” Sam said, holding onto his shoulder. “Calm down, it’s okay.”

Danny met Tucker’s eyes from behind Sam who, now that he knew Danny was alive and okay, was starting to look a bit annoyed. Danny had a lot of explaining to do.

He dropped his head in shame. “Look, guys,” Danny started. Sam let go of his shoulder. He pulled his knees up to his chest. “I’ve been keeping something from you.”

“That you’re part ghost?” Tucker asked. At Danny’s fearful expression, he held his hands out in front of him like, ‘calm down.’ “I’m joking.”

Danny sighed. “No, you’re right,” he said, fiddling with his blanket. “You guys know when we were watching that movie last month? When you guys wanted to check out the basement lab and I told you no?”

Slowly, Sam nodded.

“Well, after you guys left, I … went down there by myself. And my parents were building this big thing that looked like a hole in the wall, so I went inside and … and it turned on. It—” Danny gulped, unable to finish his train of thought. Instead, he said, “My parents were so excited when they came home. They said it was a portal to the ghost dimension. That they’d be able to capture ghosts and get ectoplasm samples a lot easier now. For experiments. And … I thought I just got shocked pretty bad, you know? That I was fine. But then things started happening …”

“Oh, Danny,” Sam said.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Tucker asked.

Danny put his head in his hands, unable to look them in the eye. “I was going to,” he responded. “I really was. And then my parents started talking about how they’d be able to dissect their first ghost. That they’d be able to ‘figure out what made these monsters tick.’ I got scared. I kept thinking, ‘what if they’re right? What if I am a monster?’”

“You’re not a monster,” Sam said, reaching out to him.

“But I feel like a monster, Sam.” When Danny looked up, his eyes glistened. A tear ran in a line down his cheek. “I want to … do things. Not human things. I want to jump into the ghost portal and not come back. I want to just … fly above the town for hours. Completely disconnected. And sometimes I’ll start floating around or something without even realizing it. And then today.” Danny raked a hand through his hair. “I just … blanked out. Everything went green and I stopped thinking. I’m so scared that if I let that happen again, I’m never going to be able to snap out of it. I’ll just be a ghost forever. I’ll forget about you guys, and my family, and my life …” He sniffed. “So I didn’t tell you guys. I didn’t want to drag you into it. I feel like a Dementia patient or something. Like you guys are watching me become something else. Watching me … die. And I didn’t want to admit that to myself, so… so I didn’t tell you. And I’m sorry.”

“Danny,” Tucker said, eyes wide. “Man, I had no idea.”

Sam wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. “You’re not going to lose yourself, Danny. You’re not bad. You’re the best person I’ve ever met.”

“You saw what I did today,” Danny said, pulling back. “How can you be so sure?”

“You were protecting us,” Tucker said. “The whole time. When you heard me yell. When Sam was taken away. When you saved me from being crushed under hundreds of pounds of frozen meat. That was all you, dude. That wasn’t anybody else.”

“We’re going to figure this out,” Sam promised, “together. We’re here for you, Danny. We love you so, so much.”

Danny wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand. “I love you guys, too,” he said.

Tucker jumped onto the bed, and the two of them hugged Danny until he feel asleep again.

It was the first night in a month where Danny didn’t have a nightmare.

[dreamerwithapen1]

may we know some more about tisiphone? 🤲

why of course you can ☺️

ok so fair warning, i got quite carried away with talking about her, and this is much much longer than i anticipated... sorry 😅

background: let’s start with her family! tisiphone was born on december 13, 1926, to hector and cassandra carrow. her mother died during child birth, and her father passed from cancer when tiss was four. so from then on, she lived with her aunt, asteria carrow, and her twin cousins, helios and selene, who were the same age as her. since a young age, tiss was always a bit timid and shy, something that selene mocked her about relentlessly. selene was definitely the most cruel and cold hearted of the family and viewed tiss as a waste of space and a useless member of the family. tiss hates the way that selene treats her but never has the courage to stand up to her, and their ‘relationship’ remains that way forever. helios is a different story. while he does share his sister’s views on muggles and muggleborns, he’s not as much as a fanatic about it as selene; nor is he as vocal about it. where selene is loud and brash and always speaks her mind, helios is quiet, observant, and always thinks carefully before speaking; however, he’s no pushover. he’ll put his sister and anyone else in their place without hesitation. which is a good thing, because the biggest cause of tension between the siblings is helios and tiss’ relationship, which can seem a bit odd to outsiders. to others, it appears as if the two are rather indifferent to each other, when really, they’re each other’s best friends. when tiss arrived at her aunt’s home, helios was the one that took her under his wing and showed her kindness. they share the same calm attitude toward things, the same dry understated sense of humor, and a natural affinity for magic, something that selene struggles with. that friendship carries on throughout all their years at hogwarts. and speaking of hogwarts...

school years: tiss, along with helios and selene, received their hogwarts’ letters and were all sorted into slytherin, the same year that tom riddle was as well. over the years, the twins and tiss became part of riddle’s “friend group”, though tiss was never impressed with riddle. because of her shyness and general lack of social interactions, tiss became very good at observing people, and from the beginning, she felt that there was something very wrong with riddle. she could see the emptiness in him, the lack of any genuine emotions other than a hunger for power, and she saw how easily he manipulated everyone around him- and it terrified her. especially when she started to get on his radar, and not in a good way. throughout the years, she rarely made her opinions known in the group, but the few times she did, it was with a timid show of sympathy for those with muggle blood and the thought that all humans- magical or not- were equal. most people just brushed her off, but not riddle. he noted all of those moments and started to become wary of her, because that unassuming and cowardly exterior of hers hid an incredibly smart mind and an exceptional talent for magic, particularly for creating her own spells. at the start of their seventh year, riddle branded his “friends” with the dark mark. and though tiss had never fully committed to his cause, she knew that she had no choice in the matter and received the mark as well. however, riddle still was not satisfied with her. she was far too friendly to the students with muggle blood, but more than that, he knew that she didn’t trust him as well. he saw the way her quiet, intelligent eyes would watch him, and while he would never admit it, he felt a very slight sliver of fear whenever her eyes were on him. and so, he decided that he needed to get rid of her- permanently. but he couldn’t do it himself, for dumbledore was keeping a very close watch on him during this time. instead, he turned to her own cousins for the job. at this point, selene was like the original bellatrix. utterly in love and obsessed with riddle and willing to do anything for him. helios was also lured in by riddle’s charms and agreed with him on his view of muggles and the sort. when riddle told the twins that they needed to be rid of tiss, that she was a threat to their cause, selene jumped right on board, while helios... did not. you see, the thing with helios is that he is definitely not a good person. like he has no qualms about the murder of muggles and mudbloods, thinks that those with pure blood are superior, and has already committed many little crimes for riddle. but, he is good to tiss. she’s his best friend. he truly does love and care about her more than he does his own sister. and in another life, maybe he wouldn’t have been a death eater, maybe tiss could have talked him out of it, could have made him see that his thinking was wrong... but she didn’t because she wasn’t strong enough in her own beliefs to convince him otherwise. and so helios tried to warn her. tried to give her hints of what riddle was planning, tried to push her away, tried to make riddle forget about her, but he didn’t. and tiss, for all of her intelligence, missed the signs. because she thought that she was safe. she thought that with dumbledore around, riddle wouldn’t dare do anything... and that was her mistake. on the night of may 2, 1945, only a few weeks away from graduating, riddle opened the chamber of secrets, and helios and selene convinced tiss to meet them there. and only shortly after arriving, selene went on a rampage about tiss’ muggle sympathies and how she was a disgrace to the family, and raised her wand to her. now at this point, tiss finally understood what was happening and should have defended herself; however, helios was there. and tiss was so sure that he would stop selene. that he would keep her safe, just as he always had. but she underestimated his devotion to riddle. and he did absolutely nothing, except look away, as selene cast the killing curse. and for tiss, the fact that he did nothing hurt far worse than if he had cast the curse himself. that was a betrayal that will stick with her forever.

after death: now, this is when things get a bit tricky (and i still need to flesh out all the details, so i only know the bare minimum at this point, but i’ll explain what i can). as i said earlier, tiss was a very strong witch and was gifted in the art of creating spells. it’s also important to note that her wand has the tendency to act on its own accord at times, is protective and loyal to its owner, and excels at defensive spells. the basic gist is that when selene cast the killing curse, tiss’ wand, which was on her person at the time, took it upon itself to protect its master; however, there is no spell that can stop the killing curse. so while it could not keep her alive, it chose to protect her soul/spirit, and created a spell so unique and complicated that tiss would not understand the full extent of it until decades later, and even then, she doesn’t understand how her wand possibly created something so complex. anyway, after her death, her body is hid in the chamber and never found. riddle and the twins get away with it scot-free and it’s assumed that she simply ran away. and from that day, tisiphone carrow is never seen again. meanwhile, tiss is living as a ghost, stuck on hogwarts’ grounds. and no one can see her. not people, not animals, not other ghosts. and she exists like this for thirty-one years, all alone, her murder going unknown and unsolved, and all the while, her fear of riddle is replaced by hatred. after all, when one has been killed, what is there to fear? so when we see her again during the marauders’ era, her personality is a bit different. she’s still very much introverted and sucks at social interactions even more so since she hasn’t talked to anyone for decades, but she’s no longer the scared, timid girl she once was. she’s more bold, fearless, and, most of all, vengeful. and that is how our dear fifth year sirius black finds her. a bitter looking girl in her slytherin robes sitting in the room where he’s supposed to serve detention. of course, he can’t help himself and makes some snide remark to her and becomes quite irritated when she ignores him. meanwhile, she doesn’t even look his way, knowing that he’s not talking to her. so imagine her terrible surprise when he steps in front of her, locks eyes with her, and demands her attention. she, rightfully, freaks the eff out and runs out of the room while having a panic attack because holy shit someone just SAW her. sirius, of course, is left incredibly confused, slightly put off (because since when does a girl, even if she’s a slytherin, run from him?)  and a bit curious. he spends the next few days keeping an eye out for her, but she keeps her distance and watches him instead, trying to figure what makes this kid different. eventually, they start having actual conversations with him having no clue that she’s, you know, dead. they start to enjoy each other’s company, tiss loving his devil may care attitude, the surprisingly sweet side that he hides, and the fact that he stood up to his family and chose the right side (something that she wishes she had had the courage to do). and sirius loves her surprisingly quick witted humor, her deep kindness (something he never expected from a pureblooded slytherin), and how wickedly smart she is. this goes on for a few weeks before the truth starts to come out. james happens upon, what looks like to him, sirius talking to himself in an empty room. and sirius doesn’t understand how james can’t see tiss sitting right across from him, and it isn’t until tiss vanishes through a wall that sirius puts the pieces together and realizes she’s a ghost. long story short, sirius does some digging and comes to find out the whole truth about tiss’ past. they spend the next couple years at hogwarts becoming even closer, and all the while, tiss begins to learn some new ‘abilities’ and restrictions in this form. eventually, there will come a time when tiss is no longer tethered to hogwarts but to sirius, so when he graduates, she’ll be able to leave the school and go with him, and she’ll help him with ootp business as best as she’s able. (i’m still debating if i want her to able to perform magic in this form or not)

anywho... i think that’s a good overview of her and her story lol i honestly could go on forever, but i think i should stop it here. however if you have any more questions about her, i’d be more than happy to answer them!

~dreamer

[sophieakatz]

Thursday Thoughts: Sophie Sides

I cannot overstate how highly I recommend the web series Sanders Sides. In this scripted series, YouTuber Thomas Sanders shares the screen with a cast of characters, each a personification of an aspect of Sanders’s own personality – and each performed by Sanders himself. The ensuing debates and shenanigans are quick-witted, hilarious, and increasingly thought-provoking as the show progresses and more of Sanders’s “Sides” make their presence known.

I stumbled across these videos at a time when I really needed to do some serious reflection on some big questions, such as “What kind of person do I want to be?” and “Am I taking good care of myself?” – the kinds of questions that this show tackles. Sanders Sides has definitely helped me think through some difficult topics.

It’s also gotten me thinking about my own Sides. If I were to split my personality up into different characters, who would I find? I wouldn’t divide myself up along the exact same lines as Thomas Sanders, of course, though our personalities do overlap in some interesting ways.

Let me introduce you to the Sophie Sides!

Lilly – The Dreamer

If it’s time for fun and imagination, then Lilly is not only on board, but at the helm! She is my creative side, the source of my storytelling and my artistic drive. Lilly also embodies my more childlike aspects, including playfulness and optimism. She’s my love of fantasy novels, Disney movies, and puns – and it’s ridiculously easy to make her laugh. Lilly is a constant source of new ideas, so she can be really distracting when I need to focus on just one task. She believes that “princess” is a compliment no matter what tone of voice it’s said in.

(Lilly’s full name is Lilly Belle, a reference to Lillian Disney – Disney Studios ink artist, wife of Walt Disney, and the reason we know the famous mouse as Mickey rather than Mortimer! Lilly wears the longest, swishiest blue dress, perfect for twirling like a Disney princess!)

Maddy – The Mother

I’ve always been the Mom Friend, and Maddy is why. She is the personification of my idea of what it means to be an adult – rational, responsible, and nurturing. Maddy keeps my priorities in order and makes sure that I stay on track and on schedule for all the important things in life. This includes eating well, attending doctor’s appointments, doing homework, attending synagogue, developing my career, and taking care of my friends. Maddy loves structure, rules, and tradition, and so she embodies my religious observance as well.

(Maddy starts with M – M as in “mother” and “maternal”! The other Sides will call her “Mom” if she’s getting too overbearing. Maddy wears professional attire: a black blazer, black slacks, and a dark blue blouse.)

Vashti – The Warrior

For Vashti, the term “social justice warrior” is no insult. She is my morality – a strong, instinctive sense of right and wrong, combined with an incessant, selfless desire for things to be fair. Vashti also embodies my aggressiveness, defensiveness, and vindictiveness; she tends to show up when I’m really pissed off, and she’s a lot shoutier than the other Sides. She holds both me and the world to a very high standard, and she has an unfortunate tendency to jump to conclusions and see issues as black and white. Without her, I’d be a much worse person – but I’m glad the other Sides are there to balance her out.

(In the Book of Esther, Vashti was the queen of Persia. One night, her husband the king told her to dance naked in front of his friends. She refused! My mom used this story to inspire in me an early sense of feminism, and so Vashti seemed the perfect name for this Side. Vashti rocks matching blue jeans and denim jacket over a “Girls Rock!” t-shirt.)

Sidney – The Slacker

While the first three Sides are a “get things done” kind of people, Sidney… is not. She represents my laziness, self-indulgence, and procrastination. Sidney encourages me to expend as little energy as possible and to devote my time to leisure activities, which can put her sharply at odds with Vashti, Maddy, and Lilly. In Sidney’s defense, she is a much-needed source of “chill” in my life. Without her, the other Sides would burn me out!

(Besides the useful alliteration of “Slacker Sidney,” Sid is the name my parents had on standby if I’d been assigned male at birth. The name is mine, but also not mine – appropriate for a Side who embodies qualities about myself that the other Sides don’t readily accept as a part of me. Sidney wears a burgundy hoodie and dark blue sweatpants.)

These first four are the aspects of myself I’m most comfortable with. But, just like in Sanders Sides, the exploration doesn’t end there…

Ex – Anxiety

Two years ago, I wrote a fairy tale about a little monster named Ex who mimics other people’s voices, tricking you into imaginary arguments that get you all riled up about things that didn’t actually happen. When I started thinking about my Sides, Ex turned up again.

Ex would tell you that she’s my forethought, my ability to imagine the outcomes of future interactions. However, the scenarios she presents always run negative. It’d be more accurate to say that Ex embodies my anxiety. She insists that she knows, with 100% certainty, what other people are thinking and how they will react to me. Her goal is to keep me safe, but she tends to blow things out of proportion and leave me feeling downright awful.

(Ex is a shapeshifter, able to appear as anyone in Sophie’s life and even as the other Sides. Ex’s name is the variable X – a placeholder for whatever role she may choose to play. I’m reluctant to give her a name, lest the arguments I have with her taint my emotional response to anyone I happen to meet with that same name. When Ex appears as herself, she wears a long green trench coat and a blue fedora hat. She has little blue horns and a tail which are all obviously attached to her clothing instead of being a part of her body.)

(Side note – lately, I’ve been thinking differently about my interactions with Ex. I’ll talk a bit more about that in next week’s Thursday Thoughts!)

Mal – Depression

Mal embodies my depression and grief. Her appearances used to be much more infrequent, and it was easier to ignore her. Until this year, it’s been easier for me to see her as an enemy or as something that I should hide. But Mal shows up as an expression of my pain. While all the other Sides are talkative, Mal never speaks. Her presence alone is enough to derail a conversation with a wave of sadness; she quietly, sullenly commands attention.

(“Mal” is a Latin root meaning “bad” or “evil,” and Mal embodies the worst feelings I’ve ever had, in response to the worst things which have ever happened to me. She spends most of her time hidden under a pile of blankets, only sitting up when she wants to be noticed, so it’s unclear what she’s wearing. She has permanent dark blue tearstains on both cheeks.)

Eve – Yetzer Hara

If Vashti is Yetzer Hatov – the good inclination, my drive to make the world a better place – then Eve is Yetzer Hara – the evil inclination, my selfishness. As far as Eve is concerned, I should be my number one priority, everyone else in the world be damned! Vashti generally bans Eve from having a seat at the table, as it were, because once Eve has a say, she’s difficult to ignore. Eve is a smooth-talking politician with an agenda of ambition and pride. As Rabbi Nahman said, without yetzer hara telling us to envy our neighbors, we would never seek to improve ourselves. But as Rabbi Hillel said, if I am only for myself, then what am I?

(Christians blame the biblical Eve for “original sin,” and my Eve never met a deadly sin she couldn’t make sound appealing. Of course, she’d be the first to point out that in Judaism the concept of “sin” is much more complicated than that! Eve wears a light blue dress, much more form-fitting and much less swishy than Lilly’s. She has glowing golden eyes – and when she convinces the other Sides to listen to her, then their eyes start to glow, too…)

I ended up going much deeper in this little exercise than I expected to. Overall, it was a lot of fun! I don’t plan on making a web series about my Sides, but who knows? Maybe I’ll write a fic about them someday.

How about you? Are you a fan of Sanders Sides? Have you ever thought about what Sides make up your personality? If not, take a moment and try it out, and let me know who you discover – I’d love to hear about them!

[coll2mitts]

#88 Tommy (1975)

The Who’s well-loved 1969 rock opera album Tommy has been adapted for the screen, and is almost the furthest thing from a feel-good picture that you can get.  Who knew that the sound of childhood trauma could be so goddamn catchy?

When I was a young girl, my father would play the album Tommy, he really liked the band.  Tommy was one of those albums I played on repeat when I was elementary school-aged.  My dad had copied the album to a cassette, and me and my yellow Walkman would head to the bus stop every morning blasting “The Acid Queen”.  I’ve mentioned before I was an obnoxious kid, and one memory that has unfortunately stuck with me for like 25 years is this guy on the bus asking my sister to tell me to stop singing out loud to “Pinball Wizard” because it was annoying.  I sunk into my seat as if he had punched me straight in the gut.

Being young, my understanding of the plot was pretty basic, and oh boy, the movie translation of this was um... I was not prepared for the ride I had boarded.   Even as someone who is unbelievably familiar with the source material, this was a rough watch.

Tommy begins during World War 2, and England is getting bombed by Nazis.  Tommy’s mom and dad are on their honeymoon, and when they return, Tommy’s father is sent off to war and is presumably killed in action.  Tommy is born on V.E. Day and never knows his biological father.  His mother (Ann-Margret) hooks up with a dude she met on vacation, Uncle Frank, and when Tommy’s father returns unannounced 6 years later, her lover kills him by hitting him with a lamp.  Dude lived through a plane crash, and its the bedside lamp that finally gets him.  Tommy witnesses the murder, and Uncle Frank and his mom plead with him not to tell anybody.  The trauma of this event triggers psychosomatic deafness and blindness in Tommy.  His parents are understandably concerned about him, even though they are the whole reason this happened in the first place.

His mom is weirdly fixated with his salvation, and takes Tommy to church to see if a supremely uncharismatic Eric Clapton and statue of Marilyn Monroe can heal him.  The congregation, in a very classy move that is not at all disparaging to Marilyn Monroe’s legacy, downs alcohol and prescription medication as communion.  The healing goes about as well as expected.

After this, his Uncle Frank takes Tommy to a prostitute, who drugs and presumably rapes him, thinking it might snap him out of it.  When that doesn’t work, his parents then leave him with one babysitter that beats and tortures him, and another that sexually molests him, so... fun times.  My notes perfectly illustrate how glad I was to watch this series of events unfold.

Realizing Tommy can entertain himself just by looking in a mirror, his parents get loaded on the couch, leaving him alone to wander out of the house.  He stumbles upon a pinball machine in a junkyard.  His parents discover he’s really fucking good at it, and introduce him into the very financially lucrative world of pinball competitions.

My favorite scene in this movie is watching Elton John play a keyboard attached to a pinball machine while wearing the largest shoes I’ve ever seen on a human.  They hinder his movement so much he can only point with his left arm over and over again to show his enthusiasm.  When Tommy wins the Pinball championship, a pack of Waldos haul away Elton’s defeated body.

Now that Tommy’s family is rolling in dough, his parents buy a mansion and a yacht, and Ann-Margret tries to bury her guilt surrounding Tommy’s condition through retail therapy, and literally smothering her grief with chocolate pudding.

I swear to god, Ann-Margret is the only person who actually knew what kind of movie she was filming.  She’s crazed, dramatic, and her voice is so fucking awesome (unlike some of the other actors they cast...).  Still, the disservice of making her swim in a sea of baked beans... which, FUN FACT: sent her into the ER because part of the broken champagne bottle rocketed out of the television when they were pelting bubbles at her and cut her hand large enough that she needed 27 stitches to close it.  She came back to film the next day because she is a fucking queen.

Tommy’s parents take him to Jack Nicholson putting on an haughty accent to see if he can fix Tommy, and all he succeeds in doing is putting the moves on Ann-Margret.  She takes Tommy back to the house and dances him into the mirror, which sets him free to swim and run shirtless across the country without shoes on.

It’s around this point of the movie that I realize Ann-Margret and I have *a thing* for young Roger Daltrey, and I don’t know what to do with this knowledge.

Seriously, she’s only like 3 years older than him and she’s supposed to be playing his mother.  The film industry is so fucked up.

Tommy tells his mother than she needs to relinquish all her material possessions, baptizes her in the ocean, and forms his own pinball-based religion.  His followers treat him like a messiah, looking for him to provide the path to salvation.  He invites them onto his compound, puts his child molester Uncle Ernie in charge of a bunch of children, and Uncle Frank in charge of recruitment and merchandising. 

His campers are fairly pissed they’re being milked for every dime they have, but Tommy is all, “I haven’t handed out my syllabus yet, wait until you hear what the curriculum is going to be!”  When they discover it’s about turning off all distractions and only playing pinball, his congregation are all like, “Fuck that!” and riot, murdering both of Tommy’s parents.  Now that his oppressors are dead, Tommy is truly free.  He runs through literal fire, jumps into a lake in jeans, and climbs a slippery waterfall AND a mountain in bare feet, making me wonder what kind of insurance they had on this picture that they allowed Roger Daltrey to do all of that and hang glide into a sea of bikers. The 1970s were an unencumbered time.

I watched several interviews with Peter Townshend to understand where the idea of this rock opera came about, and holy shit, this story is just based in his own traumatic childhood experiences.  From his perspective, after WW2, the people in England who had lived with the constant fear of sudden death internalized all of their associated trauma.  They had children they weren’t emotionally equip to parent, leaving them to be vulnerable to people who wanted to exploit them.

Tommy’s constant plea in the movie was to be seen and heard by those who were supposed to protect and care for him, only for them to be ignorant to the affect their negligence was having on him.  Tommy tries to save other broken people who need to feel safe, only for them to revolt, take the only family he’s ever known away from him, and abandon him.  This is an unbelievably depressing movie, and the fact it resonated with so many people, I just... I don’t know how to process that, because it’s heartbreaking.

So, yeah, this movie is weird as shit, but it does try to impart that people who are exposed to repeated stressful events will only hurt themselves and those around them if they try to repress those experiences.  I’m not sure the movie effectively communicated what The Who was trying to convey in the original album, however.  I think the message is overshadowed by the strong aesthetic.  

I suffered with intense anxiety as a child (still do, although I have mechanisms now as an adult to help manage it) and my parents didn’t know what the fuck to do with me.  I would say 90% of the time they’d treat my anxiety like I was personally trying to inconvenience them, and the other 10% they’d make fun of me for it.  So there I’d be, trying to hide my anxiety attacks and feeling like I was going to die (or if I was lucky, just vomit) because they’d get angry or tell me to suck it up if they knew what was going on.  I did not have a happy childhood.  I, like Tommy, just wanted them to understand me and show any amount of compassion.  However, watching this movie, I somehow did not find myself relating to his story at all.  I was too distracted by Marilyn Monroe-dressed nuns, a 2-story tall Elton John, child abuse and molestation played off as a joke, and Ann-Margret drowning in bean syrup that I completely missed the intention.  I also think 1970s religious movements had a tendency to be rather exploitative, and I have listened to far too many My Favorite Murders to not see Tommy’s fans and think, “You’re in a cult, call your dad.”  It’s hard to be automatically empathetic to the abused when they lead others to be victimized by their abusers.

I would 1000% recommend Tommy the album.  This movie is worth a watch if you like The Who, but even as someone who loves the original music, I’m probably not going to put it in my constant rotation.

That concludes rock band movie musical week!  The orchestra nerd inside of me is excited to move on to Carmen Jones next.

[ofaylin]

⌠ BAHAR SAHIN, 19 CISFEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, AYLIN KALELI! according to their records, they’re a SECOND year, specializing in LINGUISTICS, CULTURE, & ASSIMILATION; and they DID go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (hair pulled back with a chanel ribbon, lycra boots with razor blades in the heel, champagne and french macarons in a bubble bath, wiping your tears with a $100 bill). when it’s the (leo)’s birthday on 8/3/00 they always request their FRENCH FRIES from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. 

hi, hello, i’ve been sitting on this idea for a while and i was going to wait until june but with all these new characters i just got too excited ?! so, fuck it, i’m here now, i can’t help myself. for plots, feel free to message me here on tumblr or hmu on discord @ #kati7600, but check out her intro below the cut ! // ty @gallagherintro​

INSPIRATION.

bex baxter – gallagher girls

carmen cortez – spy kids

blair waldorf – gossip girl

cher horowitz – clueless

torrance shipman – bring it on

jackie burkhart – that 70s show

BACKGROUND.

both of her parents work for the national intelligence organization of turkey, they’re big shots and they make a lot of money! she has two older sisters and she’s born into a world of wealth and expectations. it won’t take her long to learn more languages than years she has lived, and waking up early to run drills and do obstacle courses with her sisters is routine.

picture perfect on the outside, the household within goes through turmoil. her mother is promoted to the director of the NIO and it puts a strain on her parent’s relationship. her father starts taking more business trips, and aylin and her sisters spend nights sitting on the top of the stairs, listening in on phone conversations. aylin’s the youngest, so she doesn’t really understand what’s going on and needs to have it broken down. 

aylin had always LOVED her parent’s love story – they met on a mission and they were partners for years, it’s all very romantic. so the divorce leaves her confused. how could you stop loving someone? how could you just give up?

both of her parents are an active part of her life, the divorce is...fairly amicable and they share custody. the only thing aylin doesn’t like is her father’s new girlfriend, young and totally uninvolved in the world of espionage. the girl could be her sister. aylin spends her time split between two houses, half-belonging to each, but her parents feel GUILTY so aylin quickly learns how to use that guilt to get what she wants, whether it’s freedom or material goods. 

she’s a little spoiled, but it doesn’t satisfy her. nothing really does, it just makes her feel sort of empty, so she works harder, filling time with books and training with her older sisters who tell her cool stories from their spy prep schools and teach aylin things they’ve learned when they come home for breaks. aylin long for the day when she’s not splitting your time between other people’s homes and she’s in a place that she can really call her own.

she goes to the same spy prep school that her older sisters did in london. she’s competitive from the get-go because she’s a kelali and people already expect things from her to begin with. she smiles when people call her by her sister’s name or mention her mother, but inside she’s seething, eager to prove that she’s good because she works hard, not because she’s someone’s sister or daughter.

it’d be a lie to say that aylin didn’t step on a few toes, and the way she skyrocket to valedictorian is a little less than savory – she reports her competition for illicit activities, and...perhaps she planted something in their locker idk!!! 

she has her pick of spy prep colleges across the nation, but her mom really encourages her to choose gallagher. why? that’s weird, her mom never went there and neither does the rest of her family! but aylin really likes the idea of a place that’s all hers and she’s always wanted to see america, so she chooses it. she’s a bit smug about being ahead of others because she’s been reading books on espionage since age 4, and if you don’t know sixteen languages, stay out of her way. 

PERSONALITY:

PROUD. aylin is a very proud person, she grew up in an affluent household with important parents. when faced with a challenge, it’s her pride that tends to motivate her to be the best because she feels like she has something to prove, and she’ll turn her nose up at you until she gets it. this also makes her stubborn.

INTELLIGENT. aylin was raised in an environment where she was being trained since her childhood, knowing about espionage since she could speak, but she also has an iq of 122, so not quite genius level but she’s getting there. she’s the head cheerleader type that you’d be surprised is actually really good at math.

HARD-WORKING. queen of taking on too many extracurriculars at all times! honestly she tends to overexert herself until she burns out, but she wants it all – the exciting social life, the straight As, the meaningful connections, the parties, when does she sleep? maybe never.

SNOBBISH. honestly, she doesn’t mean to come off as a snob but she definitely does because she hasn’t really known anything other than crystal dishware and fancy clothes. she doesn’t even comprehend that other people don’t come from the same place of privilege that she has.

FUN-LOVING. the girl you want to party with! just because she’s a good student, she wouldn’t want you to think that she doesn’t know how to have a good time. aylin operates in extremes, so she parties just as hard as she studies and has a tendency to get carried away, but let it be known that she’s doing this for herself and not for anyone else’s attention.

MANIPULATIVE. aylin will step on toes to get what she wants, and she’s not scared to fight dirty. she tends to stay in the lines of what’s legal of course, but if she sees a window into getting what she wants, she’ll say what she needs to in order to get it. honestly, she can be a bit callous with the way she uses people and doesn’t always understand the effects of her actions. she would tell you that the ends justify the means. yikes.

INDEPENDENT. doesn’t need you or anyone else and wants you to know it. her confidence is genuine and real, and she doesn’t attribute any of her accomplishments to her family name – she’s not insecure about it, she knows that she’s good at what she does.  

HEADCANONS.

started school early, so she’s a bit young for her grade by a year. she sees this as a positive thing and will brag to you about how she’s younger AND smarter. annoying.

acts like she really likes healthy food and eats a salad in public ( will tell you that’s her favorite food ) but she’s weak for things that are greasy and fried and will be pigging out in secret. her favorite food is french fries but you probably wouldn’t guess that about her ! 

languages she knows: english, french, turkish, arabic, german, kurmanji, italian, dutch, spanish, mandarin, japanese, latin, hindustani, malay, russian, bengali. some are better than others and some she reads more than she can really speak. 

taught herself to skateboard since coming to america since it seemed like the thing to do based on watching american films. she will ride her little penny board in high heels and loves it ! and you thought i couldn’t make her more annoying !

tons of expensive lingerie but u can look but don’t touch. 

bisexual but still not interested in you. 

leo with a virgo rising and cancer moon. i am so SORRY ! 

WANTED CONNECTIONS. 

SERENA TO HER BLAIR. literally her best friend ever, but they probably have a sort of on-off friendship because they’re strong personalities and get in each other’s business. however, when it comes down to it, they’ll always put the other first and they love each other immensely, would kill a man for the other. but they’re also pretty competitive too. 

GIRL SQUAD. i just want her to have a couple close girl friends that are all close...you know. i would love if one of them was more subdued and totally chill about everything, maybe a wallflower type, and then another that’s kind of nerdy ? but also cool, you know. i’m just dreaming. 

EX/BESTIE. aylin and this person used to date like forever ago, but mutually decided that they made better friends than romantic partners. they care about each other a lot, and they probably make jokes about how they USED to date. a healthy ex connection basically !

ON/OFF THING. because for every healthy ex i also want something kind of toxic. essentially it’s not good for either of them and they just keep going back to each other because, well, it’s a place of comfort or whatever. they drive each other fucking crazy though and no one can keep up with whether they hate each other’s guts today or if they’re all heart eyes.

SWORN ENEMY. but for a justified reason, like aylin probably screwed them over for something academic or even in a campus club or something. if your character went to a spy prep school, maybe they’re the person that aylin screwed out of the valedictorian role ? might submit a WC for that cause. fun.  

PROJECT. like my fair lady, be aylin’s eliza doolittle, let her she’s the man you, whatever. essentially, your character might by shy, nervous, or new to the spy world and aylin wants to give them a metaphoric ( or maybe even physical ! ) makeover and help them get acclimated, teach them the ways of the world. i’m also picturing that pic of the lesbians, u know what i mean. i can’t find it, but i google searched “girl doing the other girls makeup, gay” 

FORBIDDEN FRIENDSHIPS/LOVE. idk something totally not allowed. if this was sooner i’d want her ass to have a crush on a witness protection kid. however, her parents work for the turkish NIO, so perhaps your muse’s parents or family have been involved in something rivaling that so they’re not supposed to get along. 

MARRIED COUPLE FRIENDS. these are friends that are so close that they’re practically a married couple?? i’d love to do a platonic m/f thing with this, where they fight and get on to each other like they’re married but love each other like it too. lil grandparents of their friend group.

CRUSHER. someone who has a crush on her, probably because they’re fascinated with the idea of her and not her true problematic self. she’d probably be kinda rude to them and i’d love to plot this out long enough for that crush to turn to dislike once they recognize the selfish parts of her or notice she’s been making fun of them. maybe a flipped scenario.

ONE NIGHT STAND. maybe after a few too many drinks, they hooked up. something recent so we can make it super awkward and potentially funny. 

SET-UP. your character’s parents are close friend’s with aylin’s and they’re trying to set aylin up with your character. aylin and your character are NOT compatible at all and it’s hilarious. 

OVERSEAS. they met while they were both abroad together one summer, and they accidentally got into some trouble with international police maybe just for being too drunk on the streets or acting stupid, climbing stuff. aylin considers your character a liability and has avoided them since, disregarding the fun times they had.

RIVALS/ENEMIES WITH SEXUAL TENSION.

EXISTING CONNECTIONS.

NAZ FARHI. her cousin. the two of them don’t NOT get along...but aylin really thought she would come to a school and be the only one of her family members there and then naz showed up ! determined to make it clear that she’s the best. 

JO TRAN. rival/dislike. took one of the upper-level courses because she could and her attitude got on jo’s nerves because what doesn’t get on jo’s nerves. aylin’s just the epitome of everything that pisses jo off. 

KASSANDRA SUTTON. bad friend to. one of those friendships where one person takes more than they give, and it’s not ON PURPOSE, but kass is really just so easy to take advantage of, aylin’s ALWAYS running to her when she needs a favor.