#i vaguely remember that there's a scene in my fanfic

[ach-sss-no]

...gollum dodged a great eagle?

how can one character be both the most competent and incompetent character in lotr

>dodges great eagles and elves and aragorn and who knows what else >walks right into mordor and gets tortured

>finds and retrieves the one ring when sauron couldn't >immediately dies

(I am accepting LOTRO as unassailable canon at least for the purposes of this stupid post)

(external link so this stupid post won't show up in searches hopefully)

[bucky-thebae-barnes]

TRYING TO FIND ZOSAN FIC

hey if anyone could help me out i'd appreciate it, just throwing this into the void, but i read a zosan fic and i can't find it again. the premise was basically that zoro suddenly felt like he was in debt to sanji because sanji did so much for the crew (and he found out the other crew members sort of did little things for sanji in exchange as well) but zoro realized he never did anything for sanji and it really bothered him because he didn't like feeling "in debt" to sanji because he realized how much sanji did for him (and also feelings, y'know?)

at one point he talks to robin and then he starts to do (maybe kind of awkward) but nice things for sanji too

but i remember one scene specifically in the fic was that sanji and chopper were going through some old clothes together and sanji was sorting them and figuring out what to make of them for everyone else (like some of his old shirts could be made into shirts for luffy etc) and then maybe zoro interrupts them while they're doing that and tries to like throw some flowers at him or something idk 😅

[fleetsonourgecentral]

Okay so sending this as a request, what if Scourge gets temporarily cybernik’d (like Shortfuse..?) or roboticized.

It’ll be interesting to see because prior to landing on the Fleetway dimension, he never had to deal with shit like this. For all of his talk about how terrible Moebius was, they never had the kind of enemies Prime Sonic or Fleetway Sonic have. Couldn’t beat his own version of Metal Sonic without help, and would be taken aback with dealing some of Prime Robotnik’s gimmicks. 

He retains his original consciousness (thanks to the power of master emerald bs or whatever) but is either extremely angry/freaking the fuck out because he loses partial physical autonomy, his speed, (if he’s in a cybernik body, its likely claustrophobic for him since he’s a Sonic and he should be moving, not encased in metal even if it shoots cool missiles) and oh Chaos, is this what it’s like for Prime Jules—

and worst of all…he can’t feel Sonic. 

No worries if you don’t get around to this btw, just thought I’d throw this idea out. Your writing is amazing.

I can't believe I've never considered this scenario.... the angst potential in it...... holding this in my hands

~~~

Endless wires were hooked into the armor - into him - and yet Scourge couldn't feel any of it.

The world around him felt... disconnected. He hadn't realized just how real his surroundings felt on a daily basis until he was forced to view them through the lens of a screen. None of the colors were vibrant, and every little sound was muffled. He couldn't hear the hum of electricity, or Tekno tapping on the keys of the keyboard at her computer, or the quiet rustle of Tails anxiously wringing his tails with his hands. All sounds he knew were there - sounds he'd heard a million times - but were lost to him trapped inside the armor. Sounds he'd never even thought about or noticed until they were gone.

Sonic was seething and doing a terrible job of hiding it. He was standing next to Tekno, alternating between glancing at Scourge and glaring at the screen littered with numbers and graphs and scans Scourge knew for a fact he didn't understand, arms folded tight against his chest and hands clenching his biceps tight. Even his quills were still bristled; they hadn't relaxed all day, not even when they got back to the base. If Scourge had seen him like this when he first crash landed into this dimension, he would've said Sonic looked irritated, but he knew Sonic better than that by now. The tense set of his jaw that always appeared when he was grinding his teeth said he was seething, and the way his ears kept flicking like they wanted to droop or pin back said he was terrified.

Ordinarily Scourge would make some kind of smart comment. Playfully punch him on the arm and jeer at him about putting his face straight. But he wasn't allowed to get down from the table lest he disrupt the wires and interfere with Tekno's scans. Like he was some kind of machine.

A very, very small part of him whispered that he was, and it wouldn't be silenced no matter how much Scourge tried to shove it down and smother it out of existence.

"It shouldn't be much longer," Tekno said. She was quiet, nothing like her usual self, and she refused to look at him. Scourge preferred it that way. Whenever she looked at him, it was always with a stricken, oddly guilty look, and he hated it. He didn't want to know the reason behind that look, or he'd hate it even more. "It's nearly complete."

"Can you do anything?" Tails said, wringing his tails even harder. Unlike Tekno, he couldn't stop shooting glances at Scourge, and unlike Sonic, he couldn't hide how scared he was.

"I won't know until-"

"'Course we will," Sonic said, cutting Tekno off. He'd spat similar reassurances in the past, and Scourge knew exactly what those words were supposed to sound like by now. Confident and cocky, scoffing at the idea the Freedom Fighters wouldn't get their own way. This time, though, there was too much tension in his voice for the false confidence to be believable.

Tekno's face scrunched in dismay, but she didn't argue; they all knew better than to argue with Sonic when he sounded like that. Amy put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, squeezing it and murmuring something Scourge couldn't hear to her.

He hated how much his senses were dulled. Hated the way everything felt flat through the screen and the way he couldn't twitch and twist his ears to better hear his surroundings. He was wrapped in nigh-indestructible armor but he'd never felt more exposed.

Stupid. He was so stupid. What kind of idiot got captured by Robotnik? That was something that happened to other people. People who weren't as strong or smart or fast as him. He was Scourge the Hedgehog, the guy who conquered a whole planet by himself, a Sonic the Hedgehog at his full potential - no, someone who'd grown beyond Sonic the Hedgehog's potential. He wasn't supposed to be captured like some quivering helpless civilian. He was supposed to be better than this.

But he'd gotten careless. Sloppy. Between him and Sonic, missions rarely went wrong, and this kind of thing didn't happen on Moebius, so he'd forgotten it was a threat to begin with, and he'd gotten complacent. He'd forgotten there was a reason Robotnik had managed to take control of Mobius and hold it for so long.

He didn't know how long he'd been there; it had felt like no time at all and forever. Everything had happened so fast while crawling at a snail's pace. Scourge's struggle for freedom felt like it was over before it had even begun, but being strapped into the armor, listening to Robotnik gloat, and feeling like he was waiting for death no matter how hard he fought...

He would never admit how weak his knees went in relief when he'd heard Sonic's furious shouting.

He didn't know how long he'd been in Robotnik's grip, but it didn't really matter. All that mattered was how long Sonic's arrival had taken. Scourge was sure the Freedom Fighters had told him at some point how long it had taken them to find him, but he hadn't been listening; the only way he needed to measure it was just in time or too late.

He wouldn't know that information until Tekno was done.

Tekno's computer made a ping noise when it was done analysing something. Scourge didn't hear the ping, but everyone's head abruptly snapped up and stared at the screen at the same time, so it must have sounded. He just. Couldn't hear it.

Something bubbled in his throat. He couldn't tell if it was bile or a scream.

"Well?" Sonic demanded.

"It's..." Tekno hesitated. She started to look over her shoulder in Scourge's direction, but stopped herself before he could meet her eyes. "It's not the same as Shortfuse- I mean, Shorty. Robotnik didn't get very far in the process, so the armor isn't fully connected yet."

"So we can reverse it?" Amy asked.

Tekno ran her finger over the keyboard. "... Maybe. I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? We got Shorty out of his cybernik armor. If it's not fully connected to Scourge, it should be easy to bust him out."

"It's not that simple," Tekno said, hunching in on herself under the weight of Sonic's furious words. "Freeing Shorty was... we wouldn't have been able to do that ourselves. If the armor hadn't overloaded like it did, he'd still be trapped in it, and we can't repeat the same circumstances with Scourge. Robotnik didn't finish, but that just means we have a chance. It might not be possible. I won't know if we can do it until I try."

"Let me try. I've broken enough of Robotnik's stuff before. If that armor isn't on him right, it should be simple enough to crack it open and get him out."

"You can't. The armor has all kinds of wires attached to him, even if they're not completely connected right, and if you rip them out, you could seriously hurt him. Shortfuse got lucky, but if we're doing it, we have to be careful. It's a delicate process; one wrong move and-"

"I get the picture," Sonic snapped. His foot started tapping impatiently. "So when do you start."

Tekno closed her eyes. Maybe she was taking a deep breath; it was hard to tell when Scourge couldn't hear properly. "I need to run a few more scans. See exactly where the armor is hooked up to him, and where I can open it without triggering some sort of trap. Robotnik has probably changed the schematics since he made Shortfuse's armor, and there's no way he'll make it easy for us to open the armor without putting one of us at risk. It... it might take a few days-"

"A few days? You can't leave him like this for days!"

"I don't have a choice, Sonic! We can't risk hurting him! A few days is my best estimate when I don't even know for sure we can get the armor off him at all!"

"I'm right here," Scourge snarled, and immediately regretted it. Inside the armor, his voice was the same as always, but through the armor, it came out wrong, like a shitty filter had been put over it, so what came out of his mouth and what came out of the speakers were totally different, and it was jarring to hear them at the same time. He hated it. Hated the way the stupid armor didn't even give him the dignity of his voice. It didn't physically hurt, but the sharp combination was agony enough the first time he heard it it deterred him from speaking as much as possible. He didn't need further reminders of his situation.

Tekno shrank in on herself, casting Scourge that guilty look he hated. "Sorry. We're not trying to talk over you."

"Would it go faster if you had Robotnik's schematics?" Amy cut in.

"Probably, yes. I'll still need to run some scans, but it'll be easier if I can see what I'm dealing with so I'm less likely to find a nasty surprise."

"Okay. Sonic-"

"Don't need to tell me twice. D'ya think they're in the place we just trashed, or somewhere else?"

"Either that or one of his factories. Megatal is rare and difficult to work with, so there should only be one, maybe two factories that have it. I don't know if he'd store the schematics in his factory servers, though," Tekno said.

"I can go too," Tails said, hesitantly raising his hand. "Tekno's been teaching me a few things, I could maybe help find them."

"Sure, whatever. Anything we find on that armor, we'll bring along, not just the schematics. You two stay here and work on... whatever it is you need to to get him out of there." Sonic turned to Scourge, trying so hard to appear casual and failing miserably. "You coming, Scourge?"

He wanted to. Fuck, he wanted to. He was fucking furious. He'd missed out on all the action when Sonic came to his rescue, still dazed and shocked from being stuffed into armor, and he hadn't gotten the chance to kick the shit out of Robotnik's machines to blow off some steam.

But inside the armor, his movements were clunky. The metal containing him was heavy, every step he took was uncoordinated, and he felt like he had no depth perception with his only window to the outside world being this stupid fucking screen. He'd overheard some of Robotnik's monologuing, enough to know the cybernik armor packed a punch and boasted all kinds of cool and heavy weapons, but none of those were his style. He didn't want weapons he hadn't chosen. Didn't want to adapt to a new style of fighting, even temporarily, if it meant losing his speed.

Technically, he wasn't helpless. The armor would make him a heavy hitter in battle. If there was a single scrap of silver lining to this disaster, it was that, for everything else the armor had taken from him, it hadn't left him defenseless.

But without his speed, without his quills... fuck, it was so stupid, and he didn't even want to think it in case it got him worked up, but... it reminded him of the Zone Jail.

As much as he wanted to snap Robotnik's fucking neck, Scourge wasn't a complete idiot. If he went out like this now, fighting wouldn't calm him down. It would only piss him off. Or worse.

"Nah," he said. His filtered voice grated on his ears. "I'm not standing around while you and Fluffball dick around fumbling your way through gettin' some computer files, and there'll be nothing there to trash considerin' you wrecked the joint on your way out."

Sonic's ear twitched again. It wasn't like Scourge to turn down a mission, especially not after he'd been wronged, and they both knew it. "Suit yourself."

"You can get down now," Tekno said. She averted her eyes the second Scourge looked in her direction. "I think I should wait to get those schematics before I run any further tests. Sonic, I'll grab you a pen drive or something to transfer a copy of the files to. Maybe you can take a copy of Kintobor with you."

"Whatever," Sonic muttered, yanking the wires out of Scourge's armor and helping him down. "Pixel Brain, get your things ready quick. Move it."

Scourge was yanked down the hallway after Sonic before he could hear an answer; he hadn't even noticed Sonic was holding his arm. Sonic marched down the hallway with him, face like thunder.

Scourge should say something. He normally would.

But what the fuck was he supposed to say? He didn't want to admit just how much this whole thing scared the shit out of him, but if Sonic couldn't do a convincing job at pretending everything was normal, neither could Scourge. How could he pretend everything was normal when he was stumbling over his own feet and barely able to keep up with Sonic?

Fuck. Scourge bared his teeth, flicked his ears, felt them hit the inside of the armor encasing him. Sonic could normally read him like a book, but trapped in the armor like this, all of his body language was hidden away. And it was hot, and claustrophobic, and Scourge had never cared about the environment the way Sonic and Prime seemed to, but right then, he'd give anything to go outside and feel the wind in his face, or the sun on his skin, or even the rain pelting down on his fur.

"Don't listen to Tekno," Sonic said suddenly. "She doesn't know what she's talking about. Might not be possible my arse. If we gave up every time things looked a little bit hopeless, we'd never get anything done. You'd think she'd know better than that by now."

Tekno knew what she was talking about better than any of them. Mechanics were her thing.

But Sonic was stubborn. That was his thing. And so far, it had never steered Scourge wrong.

"We'll get you out of there," Sonic said, turning towards Scourge. He must have gotten his emotions under control, because he was the picture of confidence. "No matter how long it takes, we won't give up until we figure something out. Don't worry."

The picture of confidence, except for that damn ear twitching, trying to fold back. Trying and failing, because Sonic wouldn't let it. Because he never let anyone see that he was scared. Not even his own boyfriend.

Scourge normally admired that, but this time, he couldn't help but hate it. He just wanted one fucking glimpse that Sonic was as scared as he was.

"We'll be back soon. Shouldn't take long. If you change your mind about joining us, better let me know quick, or meet us there."

Scourge swallowed. He wasn't going to change his mind. "Sure."

"Don't be like that." Sonic pulled them to a stop. He took Scourge's hands in his; his knuckles flexed like he was squeezing them tight. "I'll fix this. I promise."

That was the most genuine thing he'd said all day. I promise. There was the conviction all his other confident statements had lacked. It should have been a reassurance.

But Scourge couldn't feel Sonic's hands. He couldn't feel the thumb rubbing the back of his robotic hand reassuringly. Didn't even dare squeeze back, in case he misjudged his strength and squeezed hard enough to break.

He thought back to the Prime Zone, and roboticization, and for the first time, wondered if Jules ever felt this way when Prime tried to give him a hug, or if he kept them at arms length to avoid feeling this way at all.

"You'd better," Scourge said, and wished it sounded as teasing as he wanted it to. "You owe me dinner, remember? I can't eat like this."

"Yeah, yeah." Sonic's smile was too wide, too sharp. Too vicious at the reminder of Scourge's condition. "Don't get your knickers in a twist. You'll be out of there before you know it."

Scourge hoped so. He really, really hoped so.

Sonic's ear twitched and flicked backwards; not in anger, or fear, but like he was listening to something. Or someone. And Scourge was envious all over again.

"Be back in a bit," Sonic said, flexing his knuckles - squeezing Scourge's hands - one last time before he disappeared in a blue blur.

Scourge swallowed down another angry scream as he watched him go, sick with jealousy that he couldn't keep up with Sonic even if he wanted to.

[eekitseve]

Chapter one of my charpim fanfic below the cut :) just in time for Christmas in July! will upload to ao3 in a few days once I get my account

Charlie was definitely more of a New Year’s guy.

The “new year, new me” leaves a length of time between Christmas and the beginning of the following year to act out, to be someone else, and to do stupid shit. It’s right between needing to be good for Santa and having the slate cleaned for the new year.

New Year’s Eve was a blast for Charlie (almost) every time. Charlie, for one thing, knew how to have a good time. He knew enough people who hosted annual parties. He knew enough people who knew how to get into the big ones, the exclusive ones, the absolutely nuts ones. He never had to worry about New Year’s Eve plans— it was a reliable holiday where he could lose his shit and be forgiven the next morning by the world. Alongside Saint Patty’s day, he could get black out drunk and not be seen as a loser for a day. He could be a blunt, wreckless version of himself that night and have no repercussions from it save for a monumental hangover the following day.

Of course, none of this logic was true. You get false confidence to send a few stupid texts, fight a few people, maybe kiss a stranger or two-- but once the night’s over, you’re the same person who did all those things. It was you the whole time, and it never changed. You might say you’ll be better the next day (or next year), but it being a new year doesn’t change you. Once that year long timer comes back to the last few hours, you do it all again.

Pim was more favorable of Christmas.

Instead of living in the moment, he thought of his future. He reminisced on his past to what might be an unhealthy amount. He was a Romantic; he felt nostalgic for a time he remembers differently than how it happened, and he daydreams for a life he will likely only partially succeed in achieving. His goals are always slightly askew; trying to relive a past that didn’t actually happen a certain way, or trying to work towards something that he’s only seen in several tacky romance movies.

That might be why he likes Christmas so much; every Christmas was recorded on awful home video VHS’s, and sure, there would be arguing, but he’d be right there on camera, smiling and enjoying Christmas like he should. He would watch them sometimes when he came home. Who cared if his dad was cursing out his mom in the back of the video? He’d just skip those parts and reminisce on how cool he thought the nerf gun set he got that year was. He’d skip past the part where he shot his older brother in the eye and they started brawling on the floor. He’d skip past the parts on the tape where it was him in highschool, despondent, confused, and scared with the added touch of his new baby sister screaming the whole tape. He would usually go until he hit the Christmas before he moved out. He always stopped the fast forward when he recognized the scene-- blue tinsel on the tree, their old house in Adelaide, Australia, and probably the last time he was as close with his family as he was. For a while after that, the tapes weren’t as charming. First off, he wouldn’t be there until a few years later when his family moved to the US. Not to mention, he could remember the rest of them vaguely.

Maybe Pim and Charlie’s preferred holidays showed some deep facet of their personalities, maybe not.

Regardless of what holiday they liked better for whatever unspoken reason, both critters were excited to leave the office once their clocks struck 5. They didn’t have a timeclock, no, but Mr. Boss remained on company grounds until the shift officially ended; he was dedicated, and he ensured his workers were, too. This meant skipping out early was unlikely. Very unlikely.

Especially on the last shift right before their holiday vacation started.

Of course, the concept of holiday vacation was something new. Since a certain OSHA non-compliant fatal workplace incident two years ago, Mister Boss began rolling the ball on mandatory holiday PTO. He made an effort to prioritize the health of his workers over a few smiles made during the holidays. Charlie wasn’t gonna deny free PTO, but he did question the logistics of having no one working during the roughest time of the year. He was reassured that they as workers were to be prioritized; if the people making others smile are dead, then how can people smile? It seemed like kind of a half-baked response for the trouble he’d have had to go through to support such a decision, but again, Charlie didn’t want to argue against free PTO.

Allan, Glep, Pim and Charlie all are relaxing in the breakroom now. The hum of the lights are louder and it seems like even the heater is ready for a vacation as it runs colder than it has the past month. Charlie and Pim only had two clients today; one old man who wanted to visit the moon before he died (he was on his deathbed and they staged a quirky performance dressed as aliens to convince him he was there, which only worked because he was high out of his mind on various medications-- he died immediately afterwards), and a super rich guy that needed help picking out a gift for his family that would make them smile and, by association, him too. They went through a classic montage styled time of trying out different gifts, but ultimately giving them each 3.8 million dollars in cheque worked. He gave Charlie and Pim each a lonesome penny to fund their Christmas’s. Pim was endeared. Charlie was not.

They got back with an hour to spare and have hung out since.

Allan squeaks the break room sink faucet on and off a few times. He grumbles.

“The hot wat-err is off againn.” He begins futilely washing his used coffee mug with cold water and a firm sponge.

“Awww, what?! I thought we just got that fixed!” Pim whines.

Glep tunes in and adds context— “aekajjsxhcah ptotuckcakc jvvjwalc cakscjs wjejrw cjcjde totij fusj xockd fjfjs.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Pim responds, surrendering his frustration.

“Yea-hh. I guess Mister Boss is already on it.” Allan replies and continues washing the dish; Pim watches inattentively.

Glep is on his iPad doing important work. “Scouting for frowning faces online” was his excuse on his last self evaluation once it was brought up a third time by Allan.

Charlie was on his computer playing Rust.

Pim sat there, waiting.

Pim was extra excited for the holidays this year. He rarely got to spend time with his family. He felt very lucky that he could spend upwards of a week with them now, even if it was at the expense of Charlie’s life (sort of).

Pim looks over at Charlie. He seems very in his element; he’s a self proclaimed pro-gamer, why wouldn’t he be? Pim wonders if he’s gonna play Rust for the entirety of their break. Charlie mutters a quiet “shit,” and spams his mouse. It’s not enough, apparently, and he groans, releasing himself from the clutches of the computer and leaning back in the chair. Pim looks away.

It’s about seven minutes now until they’re free.

The door opens and Mr. Boss walks in. He sees Charlie gaming and watches for a second silently, only saying “oh, nice” when he gets a good item. Mr. Boss looks up at everyone. “Before you guys go, I’ve got a little somethin’ for ya.”

Mr. Boss pulls out a manilla folder and slaps it down on the breakroom table.

“What is that?” Charlie asks cautiously.

“Oh, just some homework for your vacation!”

They collectively groan.

“Don’t worry, guys!” Mr. Boss pulls thin packets out of the folder and passes them out. “I just want to make sure we get in the holiday spirit! I want everyone to make one person smile before the year ends, heehee!”

Charlie looks at the packet and thumbs through the pages.

“This is like, 7 pages dude. Double sided. This is more than we do for regular clients.”

“Yeeerrrp. It’s actually a paper version of our remote position client completion form.”

“There’s a remote position?” Allan asks— the dish is no longer important.

“Oh, yeah, sillies! We have 372 smiling friends workers working remote around the clock to make people smile! They get to work from wherever they want, choose their own hours, and they even make more than you guys do!”

There’s a moment of silence before everyone seemingly opens their mouth to speak. Mr. Boss is quicker, though.

“Aaaaanyway, I hope you guys have a good vacation! And make sure to fill out the entire packet! Remember, you only have to make one person smile, but you do have to fill out the registration form on the back of page 4 and the release form on page 3 and also the customer satisfaction form on the back for them confirming that they smiled. It’s really not that much!”

Mr. Boss was in the doorway about to leave.

“Wait wait wait wait, Mr. Boss,” Charlie is desperate, “about the remote position--”

“Byeeee guys! Merry Christmas!”

He closes the door.

“And happy new year!” He yells to them, muffled through the door.

Charlie groans and melts into his chair a little.

“I never knew there was a remote position,” Allan confesses.

“Me neither,” Pim mutters a little despondent.

“I… how much more do you think they make?” Allan asks, setting his dish down to dry.

“I dunno. I mean… probably… a good bit more.” Pim answers.

“Well,” Charlie closes his laptop and stands up, “I’m heading out. We have nothing else going on and I haven’t eaten anything all day. Anyone want to go to Spaghetti Disco?”

“That’s fancy,” Pim comments as he scratches at some crud on the table with his finger.

Charlie starts packing his laptop away in its case. “I’m just craving spaghetti, man. Are you in?”

“Yeah, I guess. What about you, Allan and Glep?”

“I guess, sure-uh.”

“jwkewjekjwefsdjkfskdhe.”

“Oh, that’s right, Glep, we were going to go on that movie double date. How could I forget-uh?”

“Oh! What movie?”

“Bimblar Seven. Kickolas Nagé is in it.” Allan rubs at a water droplet mark on his tie.

“Oh, wow! The pro footy player slash pro swimmer slash pro actor?”

“Yeah. I would invite you but I think the tickets are sold out-uh. And it’s a double date.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Pim’s definitely a little bummed out-- “I’ll be getting spaghetti with Charlie, anyway.”

“Okay, well,” Charlie claps, “you ready to go, Pim?”

“Yep!”

“Cool. Uhhhh, see you guys next year then?”

“See ya.”

“Jwejwejkwesdfj.”

“Aight. C’mon, Pim.”

///

Of course spaghetti disco had a bar— and of course the main course Charlie aimed for was some special holiday drink he saw them posting about on social media. He took a seat at the bar before Pim could suggest a booth or maybe a table somewhere.

It’s fine, Pim thinks. Really not the end of the world.

Pim struggles to work his way up on top of the bar stool. When he finally makes it, he’s just a little bit out of breath. Charlie looks over just in time to say, “oh, dude, I could have helped you.”

Pim waves it off with a smile. His shirt is wrestled out from so tightly tucked in his pants. It’s fine, he’s gonna be eating (and presumably drinking the way Charlie wants to take this night) so he may as well leave himself a smidge disheveled.

“You know, Charlie,” Pim tries three or four times to perch his chin on his balled fist comfortably, “I didn’t ask what you’re doing for Christmas. You celebrate, right?”

Their spaghetti arrives and they thank the waitress. It’s in the same cup they use for their drinks; a trademark of Spaghetti Disco. It almost looks like worms, and Pim scrunches his face at it a little.

“Well yeah, I’m Catholic,” Charlie adds pointedly. The bartender slides an Iron City to each of their spots in addtion to Charlie’s Christmas themed drink. They both thank him subtly.

“Well— I wasn’t sure, I mean.. I know a lot of people that are Catholic that don’t practice.”

Charlie throws back a hefty swig of the beer. He grimaces and sets it down. Some of it dribbles down his lip. He steals a sip of the Christmas drink and cringes worse.

“Yeah, but like— here’s the thing, Pim. Christmas is like, not even a holiday anymore dude. It’s like…” Charlie takes off his hat, runs his hand through his hair, and replaces the hat, “it’s just a thing to get people to buy shit now. You know? Like-like I haven’t had, like, a magical—or whatever— Christmas since I was a kid.”

“Oh, Charlie! That’s not fair,” Pim frowns. “You deserve to have a good Christmas again. That’s so sad!”

“No no, Pim, you’re missing the point. I’m saying no one has them anymore once you’re older. Like it’s all just fuckin… matching Christmas pjs at Walmart that you wear like, once… and stuff that kinda just goes on sale and-and they throw away after Christmas because no one fuckin-“ he burps— “Excuse me. No one fuckin wants, like… a fuckin “Ho Ho Ho I’m- there’s a baby on the way!” shirt after, like, Christmas morning. Like it all just gets thrown away.”

He takes a big sip of his drink and a heaping bite of spaghetti, commenting under his breath that it’s hitting the spot. Pim takes the minute to really hear what he has to say.

“Hmm.” Is all he has to reply with at first. Charlie is still chewing, so Pim articulates a better response as he winds up a fork of spaghetti. “You know, I think-I think it’s situational. I think it’s really wonderful in the right situation. Like, the-“

“Like the… Pj’s? And shit?”

“The- yeah. Like, if it’s with the right people.”

Charlie shoots him a suspicious look as he says this.

“What, are you talking about your family? Because-“

And they both talk at once,

“Yeah! I mean, they’re not perfect, but— oh.“

“Because they seemed horrible last time— oh.”

A quiet moment passes. Charlie looks away awkwardly.

“Sorry, Pim.”

“You thought they were horrible?”

“I mean, yeah, man. They were like… fully fucking shooting at each other. With guns. Like that’s…. That’s abnormal. I’d honestly avoid people like that. And try to get the, um, kids out of that situation.”

“Well, yeah, they shouldn’t— I mean I’m not disagreeing with you, but they’re still my family, and it’s not that bad if you just go away when they do it.”

“Pim. That’s not normal. Like- like genuinely, I’d avoid them. That sounds awful. You get to go away, they don’t.”

“But, I still love them, you know? Like, I can’t just… and you know, the kids, too. Like they need to talk to someone, um, normal. Like I think coming by is good for them.”

“Just call, like, CPS.”

“Oh, um- Mister Frog actually got rid of CPS a few months ago.”

“What?” Charlie stops mid bite. “Like- like really?”

“Yeah, he- it was kind of sudden. Um. I think I told you when it happened, like at the office, I guess you didn’t hear me…”

“Yeah, no, I definitely didn’t. That’s awful. I hope those kids’ll be alright.”

With the conversation becoming a bit heavier, they both take a minute to eat. Pim looks at Charlie a lot. At some point, Pim opens his mouth to talk, then closes it. Then,

“So, you’ve got no plans then?” Pim asks.

“I’m gonna get wasted and I’m gonna play some Rust. The patch they just put out should make these idiots running the server I’m on lose everything. It’s gonna be great.”

“Oh. Well, anything else?”

Charlie finishes his beer and it’s replaced with a new one when the bartender passes by. The Christmas drink is being ignored.

“That’s pretty much it.”

“No holiday stuff? At all?”

“Probably gonna find a new years party.”

“Nothing for Christmas. then?”

“Nah, I guess not.”

They both take long gulps of their drink.

“So.” Pim says. He doesn’t make eye contact. “Charlie…”

“Yeah?” Charlie has spaghetti taking up his entire mouth and face. He suffers from late stage spaghetti kid syndrome, evidently.

“Would… so, you don’t have to, and I know you just kind of made your stance clear, but I thought I’d ask…” Pim takes a big breath. “I’m supposed to stay a little over a week at my family’s house for Christmas and I can do it alone, I do every year, but I thought I’d ask because-”

“Pim. No.”

“Oh please, Charlie! Come with me! I promise we can make it fun, it will be a grand adventureee!” He throws his arms up for emphasis.

Charlie crosses his arms.

“No, dude. I’m firm about this. There are a million other things I’d rather do. I’d have to, like, lose my apartment or something.”

Pim frowns and leaves it.

If it’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be, Pim thinks. No use forcing it.

“Alright. But if you feel super sad and lonely and in need of Christmas cheer text me-“ “I won’t.“ “-because I’m leaving around lunchtime.” “Okay, man.”

They eat the rest of their spaghetti, have a few more drinks, and talk about remote work. They talk a lot about remote work. They both leave for their separate apartments by the end of the night.

//

Charlie, cranky,sits in Pim’s car the next morning, his overnight bag in the back and his snarkiness in full swing. Pim is practically bubbling over in excitement at the wheel.

“I just can’t believe both your power and electricity went out as soon as you got home,” Pim can’t hold back his excitement in his voice. “What are the odds?!”

It was true-- Charlie was only home for a few minutes before everything fizzled out. He’d got a call a few minutes later that the power to his apartment building went out (duh) due to the generator being crushed by a wrecking ball used in nearby construction, so there would be no heating or electricity at his place for at least a week. They didn’t even say sorry-- it was an automated call.

His first move would be to couch surf until then, but his options seemed exhausted before he even began looking. Zoey was in California for a highschool friend’s wedding and Christmas with her family, and her roommates definitely wouldn’t want him staying there alone. His uncle lived all the way over past Pittsburgh, so that was a no. Tyler moved to Pittsburgh too a few months ago after getting let off. He claimed the music scene there was “just better”. Fuck Pittsburgh, Charlie thought more than a few times after getting the news. Everyone’s moving to fuckin’ Pittsburgh.

He could get a motel or hotel or Airbnb or Vrbo or whatever, but with the cost of that he might as well go to Brazil and back all over again. He called Pim and he came to pick him up. He crashed at his place and got hardly any sleep.

Pim’s excitement alongside all of this rubbed him the wrong way.

“Pim, can you not treat this as some awesome thing? For one thing, I had to throw out my groceries this week ‘cause of all this. I had, like, really good leftovers I was looking forward to eating.”

“Oh, Charlie, don’t be like that… we can go to the place it’s from when we get back if that’ll make you feel better. My family’s probably gonna cook food all week for us, too, and maybe you can take home some leftovers if you’d like!”

Charlie groans.

“That’s not the point though, man. I just wanted to go home and relax. This year has been nothing but chaos and I think I deserve to just do what I want for a little.”

Especially when the only reason we have this break is because I literally died, he nearly adds, but he bites his tongue.

Pim is quiet. He would hardly call playing Rust relaxing the way he’s seen Charlie react to it, but to each their own he supposes. He tries to think of solutions.

“Well, I mean, you could just take whatever time we have left outside of activities to play video games, or watch your shows or whatever it is you do to relax.”

“Yeah but Pim, that’s the thing, I want to do that and only that. Not that and- and activities, I just wanna relax man.”

“Oh, it will be fun, Charlie!” Pim nudges Charlie with his elbow. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“I would and I am.”

//

They drive for about an hour, stopping for coffee at Wawa on the way. It helps, but the annoyance of the whole situation still grates on Charlie, and the looping track of “Dooty Da” on the radio doesn’t help. Charlie decides that it has lost its charm and he turns down the dial.

“If I’m forced to go along with all this, then I’m choosing the music. ‘Kay?”

“Yeah, sure, I can listen to whatever.”

Charlie pulls out the filthy old phone adapter cord for the company car (the end where it plugs into the phone is bent and worn so bad the wire is exposed) and he sloppily plugs his phone into the AUX.

“Alright, uhhhhhh… how much longer do we have on the drive?”

“Hmm? Oh, um… another half hour, I’d say.”

“Okay, Pim, you gotta listen to this. Like really listen. It’s like a yearly tradition for me to listen to this album.”

Pim’s interested now.

“And you haven’t shown me this before?” He fiddles with the seam of the leather steering wheel.

“Nah, it’s like- you gotta listen to the whole thing if you’re gonna listen...”

“Yeah, alright! Put it on, yeah.”

Charlie sits through around 12 seconds of two different Youtube ads, skipping as soon as he could.

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas…”

“Oh, it’s Christmas music! This sounds pleasant!”

“This is the most recent one that came out last year. Every year he writes a new one and adds it to the album. I’m waiting on this year’s.”

“Who is this?”

“Uhh, Mac Demarco. His stuff is amazing, man. Seriously, he’s like, an idol of mine.”

Pim’s happy to see Charlie a little happier. The next song comes on and Pim subtly bops his head to it.

“This one’s a little creepy, haha.”

Charlie takes a big sip of his coffee. “Yea, he’s got range.”

They listen to the music some more and comment on a dog they see in a passing car. Some flurries start up as they take the exit off the highway and ease into the suburbs. House after house is decorated in elaborate Christmas decorations that Pim excitedly gawks at and points to, to which Charlie feels his blood pressure heighten. The further they go outbound, the less fancy the light displays are. There are more of those silly inflatable yard decorations, now. Then, it eases into maybe a few strings on a hedge, or maybe a partially driven over blow mold decoration arrangement, glowing Santas beaming at Charlie and Pim as they drive by.

The album lasts them the rest of the car ride. They talk over some songs and Charlie shushes him for others. When they reach the familiar apartment complex, Charlie seems to be in a better mood overall. Pim makes a mental note to let Charlie DJ in the future.

They pull into the back and see Pim’s mother smoking on the back porch. The flurries have calmed entirely to a flake here and there and there’s a thin layer of snow over everything, replenishing what melted the previous day.

The two get out of the car and she sees them.

“PIMOTHY!”

Pim’s mother snubs her cigarette quickly and rushes over in her pink slippers. She wraps Pim in a big hug, swaying him a little. Charlie goes to grab their bags, and when he comes back, they’re talking about so many different things so quickly Charlie has trouble keeping up. He accidentally makes eye contact with Pim’s mom, who, almost as if she were waiting for a cue, swoops Charlie into a hug.

“Oh, uh,” Charlie doesn’t hug back. He’s visibly uncomfortable.

“How are you, sweetheart? Are you keeping Pim under control?”

Charlie pauses. He realizes he has an opportunity to be very funny and also get revenge on Pim.

“Oh, you know. He’s all mixed up in trouble at the office,” he deadpans.

“What?!”

“Oh he didn’t tell you? Yeah, Pim’s been really into getting up to unprofessional scandalous stuff at work. He brings women in all the time--”

Pim’s contented expression watching the family bonding unfold quickly morphs into one of confusion, then horror.

“HAH! Charlie’s joking,” and he pushes at Charlie’s belly to separate the two. He looks at Charlie desperately. “Right, Charlie?”

“Yeah, I’m joking,” he cheeses and looks back at Pim. Mischief lingers in his voice. “Except the last part. He’s one hundred percent a total ladies man. He picks up chicks on the job all the time, honest.”

“PIM! Is this true?! I thought this job was going to keep you honest!” When the pressure was on Pim, Charlie didn’t mind it at all.

“Agh- Charlie! No, it’s not true, mum…” He facepalms.

“What about Jennifer, man?”

“Who?”

“Jennifer, with all the- from the Shrimp adventure.”

Pim looks away quickly, his face heating up. His hands fidget with each other.

“Well…that was different.”

“I thought you would have grown out of that, Pim.” She sighs, and starts walking back to the duplex. “Come inside, get out of this cold. Your siblings have been talking about you all day.”

Pim turns to the car to start carrying bags, and Charlie already has them all in his hands as he shuts the door.

“Oh-- do you want help? That looks heavy…”

“I’m good, man. Just get the door. And do the talking.”

“Okay, sure.”

They follow a little distance behind his mom. Charlie leans a little towards Pim and asks, “so, what’d you grow out of?”

Pim can hear the smile in his voice and he hides his face in his hands. He blushes in embarrassment.

“Argh. I didn’t think she would bring that up…” Pim sighs, “Alright. I dated a ton of girls in highschool-- that’s it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she kind of focuses on it a lot, I don’t know why, maybe its a mum thing--”

“Nah, not that. I’m shocked that you- that you had game in highschool.”

“What? Oh, well. I didn’t really know what I was doing,” he confesses. “I was definitely… doing it wrong, looking back.”

“Clearly not, man. You said it, I mean, you dated a ton of girls. And your parents are still mad about it, that’s gotta count for something.”

Pim laughs a little as they get to the patio door.

“You’re funny, Charlie.”

They go inside, wipe their shoes, and are greeted with chaos. If the kids had the capabilities to bounce off the walls, they would be. When Pim walks in, they swarm him. They dogpile him with a hug and before Charlie can get a firm count of how many there are, they’re off again, crawling through the walls and running up the stairs and chasing each other from room to room to room. Pim looks overjoyed and very frazzled down on the floor. Charlie wordlessly helps him up.

“Let’s go set our stuff down upstairs, Charlie.”

They pass through the front room (the holiday tinsel is up and Pim cups his hands to his cheek in adoration) and Charlie hears the TV on in the living room as he follows Pim up the stairs. His dad must be watching something. The occasional shout or laugh from the kids running around keeps Charlie a little on edge.

As they ascend the dark, carpeted staircase, Charlie squints at all the photos, trying to scrape up any blackmail against Pim. At some point, he sets down a bag on the stairs awkwardly and he puts his hand on Pim’s shoulder to stop him.

“Hm? Yes Charlie?”

“Looking pretty dapper here, buddy.”

He points to a photo of Pim wearing a tux, bow tie, and corsage— not to mention the girl on his arm. His smile is massive and his glasses are apparent. The girl looks a little uncomfortable.

Pim laughs-- “Oh no, I thought mum took this down a while ago,” and he reaches for it, only for Charlie to grab it off the wall first.

“Charlie! What are you doing?”

“I need a picture of this, man.”

“NO! What do you need that for? That’s horrible!” He tries unsuccessfully to grab it from Charlie’s hand. Charlie just holds it higher.

“You owe me for dragging me along. This totally counts as part of it.”

“No way. Charlie!” He tries to reach it again, and he accidentally encroaches on Charlie’s personal space. He bumps into Charlie’s stomach and puts a hand on his belly to brace himself. He looks up at him.

“It’s this or something worse.” Charlie threatens casually.

Pim goes quiet.

“Like what?”

“I ‘unno, I’ll think of something.”

They look at each other.

Charlie knows Pim will accept the conditions just looking at his expression, so he sets the other bags down precariously and grabs his phone from his pocket.

“Ugh, fine.” Pim resigns as Charlie takes the photo. He then takes a selfie with it with a fake horrified expression in reaction to it. “Why that one?!”

“I dunno,” he laughs, “thought it might be funny.”

Charlie grabs the stuff again and they continue upstairs.

“Alright. I better not see these in the work Slack, though.”

“No, no, of course not,” Charlie replies, having already sent it to the work Slack.

The rest of the photos on the walls are all pretty innocuous; it all is very domestic. Charlie feels like he shouldn’t be allowed here in this bubble of domesticity before the storm of reality that is Pim’s family hits. He kind of wishes that something will just ruin the moment already so he doesn’t have to look around the corner for something horrible, metaphorically.

Non-metaphorically, Amy pokes her head out from around the corner at the top of the stairs.

“Ew— Pim? I thought you weren’t coming to Christmas this year.”

“What? Who said that?”

“Oh. No one, I made it up. But I was still excited for you to not show up.”

Pim laughs nervously.

“Well, here we are! I brought my coworker Charlie to stay with us. You remember Charlie, right?”

Charlie does a peace sign. “Yo.”

Amy stares blankly at them.

“Anyway, Brad’s over, soooo… don’t bother us.”

She goes back to her room and slams the door.

“She was nicer to me that time, I think.”

They make it to the once-Pim’s-room-now-game-room-slash-guest-room and drop their stuff inside. There’s one kid idling in there and playing Roblox on his Kindle. Pim shoos him out of the room and closes the door behind Charlie and himself.

“Here we are!” Pim says whimsically. “Oh, so many wonderful memories in here…”

Charlie looks around— it’s a mess of toys, AC units, and other child memorabilia that wasn’t deemed important enough to have out. Crazy messy.

“So we’re staying in your family’s storage room? Why don’t they just get like, a storage unit somewhere?”

“I don’t think it’s enough to warrant a storage unit, do you?”

“Maybe, man. You might get cockroaches or something if you leave it all on the floor like this.”

“Hmm. Maybe you’re right.” Pim thinks to every other issue in this house that he’d like to resolve first and shakes away the tidiness mission for later. “Anyway, there’s an air mattress around here, I just have to find it,” Pim starts looking under stacks of various clutter.

“Yeah. I was gonna say...”

They both eye the single twin bed.

“I’ll find that as soon as possible if you want to start unpacking…” Pim starts checking the closet. “Agh. It’s just board games in here, and… oh wait! Yes! Epic!” He pulls out a crumpled air mattress with an air pump still plugged into it. He starts clearing out an area for it on the floor. “I’ll take the air mattress since I’m not sure how reliable it is. Would you mind taking my old bed? It’ll be much comfier than this.”

“Yeah man, I don’t care.” Charlie starts grabbing handfuls of toys and cramming them into the already crammed space under the bed. There’s some semblance of bedding, but years of crumbs, dust and dead bugs have accumulated. “Uhhh… got any different bedding?”

“Oh, sorry, yeah. I’ll get that for you now.”

While Pim’s gone, Charlie goes on his phone. He has a few missed snaps— two from Zoey, one from Tyler. Zoey’s is at the beach. She’s smiling and having fun with her friends— they’re all drinking zany colored drinks. Charlie wishes he was too. Tyler’s snap is of a house party where he’s made it behind the DJ’s stand, absolutely destroying the crowd with his stuff. It’s short, but Charlie can tell he’s having a blast. He replies to each of them with a photo of a dead spider on the bed. He captions it, “me rn”. Pim gets back and he puts his phone away.

“Oh, geez man, you got all that?”

Pim holds a tower of bedding— two sets of comforters, pillowcases, blankets, and sheets. “Can you take the bedding off your bed really quickly?” There’s a frantic element to his request and Charlie does as told. He tosses it by the door and Pim drops the bedding on the bed with an exaggerated exhale. He starts on making the mattress.

They spend maybe twenty minutes setting everything up. Charlie settles for a sheet and a blanket, but Pim insists on making it for him if he wouldn’t. The air mattress is only a foot away parallel to Charlie’s bed.

“Alright, it’s 6:30. What do you want to do next, Charlie? I think my family wanted to go out for dinner.”

“You know, I’d really like to but I’m feeling pretty tired, man. I might sit that one out and catch up on some sleep here.”

“Aww, alright. Did you want me to get you anything?”

“Uhhhh, yeah. You know what I like,” and Charlie kicks his shoes off as he sits on the side of his bed. Pim heads over to the doorway. “Lights off?” He asks, to which Charlie politely says, “yes please.”

“Okay, well… sleep well.” Pim smiles sweetly at Charlie and closes the door behind him.

Now it’s time for Charlie to do what he wanted to do from the start.

Rust time.

The second Pim’s footsteps hit the stairs, Charlie speeds over and locks the door. Going back to his bed, he sits down and roots through his bag. He pulls out his laptop, mouse, charger, and headphones, and sets everything up. He’s all ready until he realizes he needs wifi.

He checks everywhere. It’s nowhere he’d expect it to be. He considers texting Pim for a minute, but his cover would be blown. Out of options, he returns to his bed and lies down. He groans and sets his stuff on the floor.

He’s pissed— the only thing he wanted to do was check this update. He’ll ask Pim as soon as he gets back. Maybe he can squeeze in an hour or two tonight when they get back. He hopes Pim won’t have an issue with him staying up late to play.

He drifts off, missing his apartment and what he could have had for the next week. He doesn’t expect himself to actually fall asleep.

//

Charlie wakes up to Pim opening the door. The excess light that comes through the door behind Pim’s silhouette is enough to make Charlie squint.

“Agh.”

“Oh! Charlie! Sorry— I didn’t know you were awake!”

Pim takes a step in. He isn’t wearing what he had on before— it’s some navy blue crew neck and sweats.

“How long was I out?” Charlie asks as he sniffles hard and rubs his eyes.

“Well, it’s 11 something…”

“What?” Charlie sits up incredulously. “Why didn’t you wake me up when you got back?!”

“You looked so cozy, I couldn’t! Plus, the dinner was, uh… weird. I assumed you’d want to sleep through the aftermath of that, so.”

Charlie checks his phone and doesn’t respond to Pim. He didn’t have any new texts. Maybe the notifications didn’t register— he opens Snapchat and checks it anyway.

“So…” Pim continues, “I mean, I just got ready for bed, I was gonna go to sleep now.” His sentence fizzles out. Then he throws on, “I don’t know if you want to go back to sleep, or…?”

He eases back down. “I guess,” he says with no confidence in his voice. Pim closes the door behind him and it goes dark. Charlie only now notices the glow in the dark stars that littered the ceiling over by the window. Pim climbs in bed.

“Your food’s in the fridge, by the way. It’s labeled.”

Charlie shoots back up.

“Oh- okay. No, I’m doing that definitely, yeah. I’ll be right back.”

Charlie doesn’t care to put his shoes on as he sneaks downstairs. The lights are all out, and the television is still on. Upon further inspection, Pim’s dad is asleep on the couch. He snores loudly.

Charlie finds the styrofoam box with “Charlie :-)” written on it. He spares no time in putting it in the microwave. He grabs a fork (he goes through all the drawers and of course it’s the last one) and a napkin. While it cooks, he roots around for something to drink. There’s some orange juice left in the bottom of a jug. He grabs the entire thing and, as his food finishes up, carries everything he foraged with him upstairs.

He sneaks into the room, closes the door quietly, tiptoes over to his bed, and sits down. It’s fries and what looks like a Buffalo chicken wrap. He takes a massive bite and it all feels worth it for a second.

“Charlie, are you eating in here?” Pim’s voice is meek.

“Oh shit. I thought you were asleep already.”

Pim laughs sleepily.

“Almost. That smells really good though.”

“You want a fry?”

“I already brushed my teeth,” Pim says dismally. Charlie shrugs and Pim can’t see.

“You can always rebrush ‘em.”

Pim stretches in his bed and makes a noise Charlie ignores. “Mmm. Maybe.” After a few seconds of thinking about it, he says “yeah, pass me one.”

“Alright!” He hands it to Pim and fist bumps him before he takes his hand away. Pim’s fist is limp and unexpecting. “You know, if it helps, Pim, I’m not brushing my teeth. I forgot my toothbrush at home.”

“Charlie! You could have told me, we could have stopped somewhere…” Pim sits up and scoots over to the edge of his mattress to grab more fries from the box in Charlie’s lap.

“We can get one tomorrow and I’ll brush twice as long or something tomorrow night to make up.”

“That’s not how that works,” and Charlie hears the smirk in Pim’s words.

“Yeah it is. I’ll just scrub off what I didn’t scrub off tonight, it’s not like it’s keeping count or whatever. And— besides, people from like, the 1700’s were making laws or whatever for our country and they didn’t even brush their teeth, they didn’t have this shit, so… yeah.”

“Is that true?”

“I dunno, probably. But it’s not gonna kill me if I skip one night.”

“I’m googling it.”

Their hands touch as they both reach for a fry. Nothing is said.

“It says-“

“What says? What’s your source?”

“Uhh, Reddit. They say-“

“Dude. Get a different source. Go to Wikipedia or something.”

“What? This is fine, they probably took their answer from Wikipedia anyway. They say that people have been brushing their teeth since ancient times with sticks and such, but the added sugars in our diet today make our teeth rot. And something about our teeth being closer together now too.” Pim looks up. “So you should definitely get a toothbrush tomorrow.”

“I wasn’t gonna argue with you, I’m just saying one night is fine.”

“Well, let me look that up-“

“It’s not gonna change what I do. I don’t have a toothbrush right now, I don’t really have any options, man.”

Pim clicks his tongue. “Right.”

“Yeah.”

Charlie finishes his wrap and pim finishes off the fries that Charlie couldn’t force down. Pim goes to brush his teeth again and Charlie lays back down. He’s not really tired, but that’s never stopped him from sleeping.

Charlie can’t help but to thank god for the short day. At least there was good food, good music, and good sleep.

Now they just had to do that for a week.

[lunarriviera]

the huo daofu round-up post i have been threatening for a really long time now

Thinking about this man, I was just admitting to chat "honestly cannot believe how much life energy i have invested in such a minor character" but the truth of the matter is, I was mildly obsessed with Huo Daofu from Reboot alone; his odd unresolved backstory in Sha Hai just cemented my mental formation. Because let's be real, in a world of overly earnest tomb raiders, this man is a goddamn catty delight. The dainty bitterness! The barely concealed eye-rolling! So many impeccable That Bitch vibes. And his unimpressed snark is honestly such a refreshing antidote to Wu Xie's whole everyone-loves-him Marty Sue thing that even when you discover Huo Daofu secretly ALSO loves him, you don't mind, because by that point Dr. Youtiao is a savage queen who can do no wrong.

And He Longlong clearly made this guy up. In the novels he's just sort of a vaguely beardy guy who drives a truck, that's literally all I remember him ever doing. But someone cast this man, and they gave him some rubber bands and pizza coupons and chewed gum of a script to work with, and he promptly decided: I will make him extremely gay. And staggeringly bitchy. AND IT WORKS. He devours every frame he's in, he steals every scene. It's a performance worthy of Alan Rickman and yes I will die upon this hill.

We all know the bitchy-ex-boyfriend scenes in Reboot—"oh my god I literally can't wait for you to perish from lungs" and then Huo Daofu spends like every moment trying to keep Wu Xie alive, sheltering him uselessly from the rain with his hand, rubbing his back when he coughs, looking (when no one's watching but the camera) like he's maybe going to stop breathing himself, when Wu Xie does.

Apparently Huo Daofu's name sounds very silly in Chinese which I think is appropriate for someone who apparently (?) grew up in Germany (?) and went to the University of Heidelberg (?) (honestly don't waste time trying to figure out DMBJ canon, NPSS has thoughtfully ensured that will only be exhausting and futile). Spurious medical qualifications aside, he's super handy in fanfic, too, when you need a sketchy doctor, as all tomb-raiding mob families invariably do.

[someone once pointed out to me that this combination of degree topics basically translates into "how to dispose of bodies"]

I could also hold forth on him and Yang Hao—like, Su Wan alone makes it REAL clear that Huo Daofu's interest in the kid isn't just avuncular or entrepreneurial:

"Are you working for him, or are you working for him?" And Su Wan should be protective, because Yang Hao is honestly kind of an idiot, and probably doesn't realize he's being assiduously groomed not just as a mob boss but as a potential boy toy. (NB by the way that there are 44 fics in the Huo Daofu/Yang Hao tag, and disappointingly, not a single one of them is in English. Western fandom needs Jesus.)

But the thing is, Huo Daofu SAVES his ass in Gutongjing. Everyone forgets that. There's easily half a dozen times where he grabs Yang Hao's shoulder and hauls him back from danger. And Huo Daofu is the one Jiumen member smart enough to get out ahead of disaster, and to take Yang Hao with him. Here he is looking fabulous in a completely unnecessary but dramatic scarf.

And, at the end, he lets Yang Hao go. Because he's secretly decent.

Sure, he has some vaguely sketchy take-over-the-Huos plans, plans that clearly go awry at some point no matter how dramatically and villainously he makes tea. Sure, he exudes a scurrilous sort of evil. But he's COMPELLING and that's all I care about. Look at his pretty little face here, sourly plotting things, in a windowpane-checked suit which should be ridiculous but just winds up looking snazzy as fuck compared to the rest of the Jiumen. This is a man who understands the value of a pocket square. Thank you so much, He Longlong, we didn't deserve you putting your entire snatch into this very minor performance but some of us are extremely grateful.

So here are seven ficrecs, with a podfic and a meta from AO3. Please let me know if I should add anything (Tumblr meta?)—this post WILL be updated, because I have too much time on my hands and care unreasonably about the mean-spirited little bastard.

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Remember how this used to be (3569 words) by achray Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huo Daofu/Wu Xie (DMBJ Series) Characters: Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi Additional Tags: Missing Scene, Angst, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Background Wu Xie/Zhang Qiling, Wu Xie being a gremlin, Canon-typical references to illness Summary:

“That wasn’t a no,” Wu Xie said, his smile widening. “I thought you still wanted me.”

Notes: How is this both hot and sad? I don't know, that's the magic of fanfiction. This was the first Wu Xie/Huo Daofu fic I ever read and frankly the genre needs more entries, but this is a good one.

‡

the rime dictionary of Wu Xie (7433 words) by scherzanda Chapters: 6/6 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Wu Xie/Zhang Qiling, Wang Pangzi/Ye Piaopiao, Wang Pangzi & Wu Xie & Zhang Qiling Characters: Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi, Zhang Qiling, Ye Piaopiao, Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Xiao Mei, Wu Erbai, Li Jiale (DMBJ Series) Additional Tags: Piaopiao lives, Post-Canon, Canon Flashbacks, canonical illness, fun with the common cold, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Handwaved SI Recovery, Canon-typical Ershu Infodump, Quasi-History-Compliant, Yuletide Treat Summary:

This is why (even now) Wu Xie shouldn’t be let out alone—one trip out to the provinces, and he comes home with a bad cold and an unsolved mystery.

Notes: this is one of my very favorite Huo Daofu writers and here's why—read this little excerpt. The angst. The PAIN. Wu Xie absolutely broke this man's heart at some point and honestly Huo Daofu is really only himself if he's suffering, love that for him:

“Easy,” he said, when Wu Xie couldn’t seem to stop coughing. “Here—” and reached for the rest of the tea, except that it wasn’t on the table any longer.

Zhang Qiling was holding the mug; he had somehow gone around to the other side of the bed, moving in that flowing now-you-see-it-now-you-don’t way that never seemed quite human, to sit down cross-legged on the bed by Wu Xie so that their shoulders touched. Huo Daofu snatched his hand away from Wu Xie’s back as if an electrical current might flow through the double contact.

“Wu Xie,” Zhang Qiling said, and then something else so quiet it was inaudible, holding the tea so Wu Xie could drink.

Looking at the open tenderness on that remote, beautiful face, utterly focused on Wu Xie, made Huo Daofu feel as if his flesh was trying to part ways with his bones. It was a pain his medical texts didn’t have a word for, deeper and more primitive than jealousy or resentment.

Wu Xie, getting his breath back, looked sideways at him with one of those sudden grins. “Sorry, Xiao Huo. You’re still out of luck when it comes to watching me die. Maybe next time.”

Huo Daofu’s voice would not quite leave his throat. Instead, Xiao Mei said crossly “Tianzhen-shu, that’s dumb.” Most of her attention was still on her phone screen. “Why would Dr. Huo want to watch you die.”

Wu Xie looked at him, still smiling.

“It’s a long story,” said Huo Daofu, “and it doesn’t matter now.”

‡

even through hesitation (10407 words) by naiwong_bao Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV), 沙海 | Tomb of the Sea (TV), 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huo Daofu & Huo Xiuxiu, Hei Xia Zi/Huo Xiuxiu/Xie Yuchen Characters: Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Huo Xiuxiu, Yang Hao (DMBJ Series), Hei Xia Zi (DMBJ Series), Xie Yuchen, Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi Additional Tags: Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Character Study, Alternate Universe - Fantasy Series: Part 3 of this is where we live Summary:

He’s a boy so Huo Daofu knows from the beginning that there are no expectations for him, he can do as he likes. So he plays, he cries, he does what children do.

Then his parents die.

No one wants him, no one has time for him, so his family sends him to Germany for school. It’ll be a good opportunity, his family says. He can do whatever he wants, be free of the family business, they’ll take care of him over there. He doesn’t want to go, he doesn't know who they are, but he doesn’t get a say.

So he goes to Germany where the language is strange, the food is strange, the people are strange, and he wants to go home so badly that his teeth ache.

Huo Daofu builds a life for himself, but at the first sign of trouble, years and years and years later, he rents out his apartment to an acquaintance, and flies home.

But.

The language is strange, he doesn’t know the slang, the food is strange, the people are strange.

His family is cold and he still doesn’t get a say. --- Huo Daofu between the end of Tomb of the Sea and when he reappears in Reboot. AKA Huo Daofu learns to care a little.

‡

The Mark of a Man (2279 words) by JhanaMay Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 沙海 | Tomb of the Sea (TV), 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huo Daofu & Yang Hao (DMBJ Series) Characters: Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Yang Hao (DMBJ Series) Additional Tags: Loneliness, Found Family even when it makes you want to scream, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Huo Daofu is a mediocre role model Series: Part 8 of The Art of Conversation, Part 7 of The Art of Conversation Side Stories Summary:

When Huo Daofu inducted Yang Hao into the Huo family business, he wasn't expecting to become the boy's de facto babysitter.

Notes: a poignant little vignette in which Huo Daofu has a heart.

‡

[META] Huo Daofu's Youtiao Stand (739 words) by Thimblerig Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei, 沙海 | Tomb of the Sea (TV), 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huo Daofu & Huo Xiuxiu, Huo Daofu & Wu Xie (DMBJ Series) Characters: Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series) Additional Tags: Meta, Worldbuilding, Huo Daofu's Delicious Fried Snacks Series: Part 2 of DMBJ Meta Summary:

Huo Daofu is a supporting character in Sand Sea. Ambitious, wily, hungry, he’s far from one of the main villains of the story but he’s not nice, either. By the end of Sand Sea Huo Daofu has exploited the chaos caused by the ill-founded expedition to Gutongjing to take over various of the Huo Family operations.

When he appears in Reboot: Sound of Providence, he is a purveyor of delicious fried bread snacks. He’s clearly not hurting for money, so why…?

Notes: this is one of my favorite little HDF explorations, theorizing that Huo Xiuxiu busted him down a rank, and I think that's beautiful.

‡

starting in darkness, like a pure line of light (10167 words) by scherzanda Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huo Daofu/Bai Haotian, Bai Haotian & Wu Xie, Liu Sang & Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Bai Haotian & Liu Sang Characters: Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Bai Haotian, Liu Sang (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi, Zhang Qiling Additional Tags: background pingxie, background Iron Triangle, past Wu Xie/Huo Daofu, Post-Canon, hurt/sarcasm, Fade to Black, Dialogue Heavy, meta-adjacent, Self-Indulgent Use of Chinese, Emotional Hurt/Comfort Summary:

Some emotional loose ends are never going to be tied up, but at least they can be recognized and shared. Or, a selection of the worst best only ways to comfort one another in the aftermath.

Notes: absolutely nothing makes me, a Huo Daofu stan, happier than scherzanda's fics featuring him. You would think this is an odd pairing, but it's really not—the two people who love Wu Xie most and are left behind by him? They have so much in common. Also, this fic has a podfic!

[PODFIC] starting in darkness, like a pure line of light, by scherzanda (701 words) by Thimblerig Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV), 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Huo Daofu/Bai Haotian, Bai Haotian & Wu Xie, Liu Sang & Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Bai Haotian & Liu Sang Characters: Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Huò Dàofū, Bai Haotian, Liu Sang (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi, Zhang Qiling Additional Tags: background pingxie, background Iron Triangle, past Wu Xie/Huo Daofu, Post-Canon, hurt/sarcasm, Fade to Black, Dialogue Heavy, Meta Adjacent, Self-Indulgent Use of Chinese, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Podfic, podficcer not a native chinese-speaker but is doing her best, Podfic Length: 1-1.5 Hours

‡

do the work, love the work (1616 words) by scherzanda Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Wu Xie (DMBJ Series), Wang Pangzi, Zhang Qiling, Liu Sang (DMBJ Series), Bai Haotian, Wu Erbai Additional Tags: Mid-Canon, Missing Scene, Character Study, Post-Canon, Yuletide Treat Summary:

It doesn't always look that way, but Huo Daofu is doing his best.

Notes: once again I just have to excerpt, so you'll GET IT:

The train had nearly reached Hangzhou by the time Wu Xie spoke to him beyond the commonplace. He was still sitting in the corridor, staring dreamily at the growing suburbs, while Zhang Qiling gave Wang Pangzi a hand in the cabin. He looked up as Huo Daofu came back from the hot water dispenser. “Xiao Huo, xinkule. Sorry you never got that chance to watch me die, eh?”

Huo Daofu closed his eyes and looked away from Wu Xie’s smile, unshadowed now with death, brilliant and painful. “I’m sorry too,” he said, eyes still closed, and did not say any of the things he was sorry for.

‡

not only the sugar, but the days (3000 words) by A Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 盗墓笔记重启 | The Lost Tomb Reboot (TV), 盗墓笔记 - 南派三叔 | The Grave Robbers' Chronicles - Xu Lei Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Bai Haotian/Huo Daofu Characters: Huo Daofu (DMBJ Series), Bai Haotian Additional Tags: Mentions of Death, Healing, Getting Together, Youtiao as a Metaphor, Also Actual Youtiao Summary:

His gaze meets Bai Haotian's, who's trying so hard to keep it together, and he knows that Wu Xie will break her heart when he dies, and it won't even be his fault. He never fucking means to.

Notes: another recent entry in the HDF/Bai Haotian post-canon and I love it unreasonably. They both love Wu Xie SO MUCH and it's just taking them OUT. Their subsequent connection is natural and it's funny as hell, the author loves them both and it shows:

"Are you really sure?" Bai Haotian says softly, and Huo Daofu looks up.

"What?"

"About the week."

"At best," he says, then winces. Fuck it. "It'll be three days," he says, loud enough to carry through the bedroom door, "if he keeps pulling these stunts!" There's a muffled noise and some very clear profanity from Pangzi, which Huo Daofu ignores. "See if I care!" he adds, but it's just not the same without Wu Xie there to grin at him, unrepentant.

He can feel Bai Haotian's hand covering his own, just loosely, where it's half curled into a fist against his thigh. He turns his head. The look she gives him is so full of unquestioning kindness, of understanding, he almost has to close his eyes against it.

"I'm sure," he says quietly, not really looking at her. "But he's proven me wrong before."

He can see her nod as she takes that in, and then they just sit there in silence, her hand over his, not moving.

‡

In conclusion, just because I can, from some of my favorite posts:

[ohyka]

[jeong-guwon]

[januaryisnotanartist]

Please also do not fail to check out the magnificent Dr Mal Practice post, as well as "it's not his fucking birthday" and "I'll fucking do it but christ alive." These users truly understand the essence of Huo Daofu.

PS also don't sleep on Huo Daofu and Liu Sang having a fabulous bitch-off in Hua Mei, a Sha Hai side story ft. haunted Wushanju. Another side story, Ran Gu, also has a swooning Kan Jian. Quality entertainment!

[skekilla]

my brain is rotting out of my s kull boys

anyway heres from my au, pomni and ragatha talking about just trying to tell caine life in the circus sucks and they all want things to change sdfdfs

ANYWAY I BLACKED OUT AND ENDED UP WRITING A THREE PAGE SHORT FANFIC ABOUT THIS SCENE SO.... here goes ugh

Everything was quiet out there, in the big room scattered with blocks and suspended domes of darkened skyboxes. Pomni stood on the balcony. She stared up, along the spirals and ledges, into the Circus’ simulation of nighttime. She didn’t know what made her leave her room and come out there, but she did know she didn’t care for more nightmares like the ones last night brought. Then again, after everything that day—the funeral—she did doubt the likelihood of anything similar to that coming true. She hoped it wouldn’t, anyway.

“Can’t sleep?”

Pomni startled at the sound, whirled around. “Ragatha! Ah… w-why? Should we not… be out here at night?”

Ragatha chuckled, coming closer. “Oh, no, you’re good! Don’t worry about that.” She came to a stop beside Pomni, a few feet away. Her one vaguely humanoid eye glanced up into the night sky. “I just heard your door—I have trouble sleeping too, even after all this time, so I was awake—and I thought you might want someone to talk to. Only if you want, of course!”

“Oh. Okay.”

An awkward pause stretched between them. “Do you… want to talk, or…? I know you had a big day, with that NPC and whatnot, so…”

The shapes of the Circus floor sparkled like a deathly burst of confetti in Pomni’s mind for just a second. She squeezed her eyes shut. “No. No thanks. I just…”

Ragatha’s hands rose to try to comfort Pomni, but hesitated before they actually got close enough. Instead, she clasped them together in front of her. “That’s okay. It’s not easy to get used to. I can go.”

“No, it’s fine. I just—” It was rare that Pomni ever felt choked up. At least, she felt in her subconscious that it was—not that she remembered anything distinct about life before… this. For some reason, though, everything was washing over her right then. Maybe it was Ragatha trying to get her to talk that was drawing it out of her, or maybe it had just finally all caught up to her. Either way, her gloved hands clenched into fists and she held her breath. She wasn’t sure if she even could cry, but she didn’t want to. Not to someone who was basically still a stranger. Albeit a nice one.

It had been a long time since Ragatha had seen anyone but Gangle on the brink of tears. She almost didn’t know what to do—almost. She sat down on the checkered floor, patted the ground by Pomni’s feet. She smiled up at her. Pomni stood still for a moment, unsure, before she finally sank down.

“Don’t worry about talking, if you don’t want to!” Ragatha said.

But words were already tumbling out of Pomni’s mouth, strangled against her tense vocal chords. “I just don’t understand why,” she said. “Why am I here? Why are any of us here? Why did they do this to us, what- what could any of us have done to deserve being- trapped? Controlled? Why…” She shook her head, eyes towards the ceiling and skies again. She let her back meet the floor. “Why?”

Ragatha started to say something, but stopped herself and thought it over. Trying to act like there was any answer to that wasn’t helpful. She knew that by then. After a second, she laid down too. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m sorry, Pomni. It’s just the way things are—how Caine runs them. There’s nothing any of us can do.”

“Why not?!” Pomni’s voice broke a little. She took a breath, calmed herself. “There has to be something. It can’t… it can’t be impossible to leave. It can’t!”

“I’m sorry,” Ragatha said again. “Believe me, if any real ‘exit’ existed, we’d probably have found it by now. The only way to change anything here is through Caine, and… well…”

Pomni inhaled. “Well what?”

“Well… letting us go isn’t in his program. Making us ‘happy’ is. That’s it. There’s no changing him.”

Pomni’s hands rose to her face. For a moment, she just stayed like that. Then something came to her. “But he’s not making us happy.”

“Yeah…”

Pomni’s head rose. “Does he know that?”

Something between surprise and confusion filled Ragatha’s face. “I… don’t know. He keeps trying the same stuff again and again, so… probably no.”

Things began to click into place in Pomni’s mind. “Then… then maybe we could tell him! Get him to change things! Let us have more say and… and maybe, eventually, leave. If he is made to make us happy, then he’ll listen if we all say we really, sincerely aren’t. Right?”

Ragatha thought about her words. “I mean,” she began, “I don’t remember anyone really trying anything like that in the time I’ve been here—not like what you’re saying, anyway. Maybe… maybe.”

“Then we have to. We have to try.”

Ragatha looked over at Pomni. The desperation she heard in her voice made her nervous, but the hope that came with it was swaying her. “Well… it could be worth a shot!” Pomni looked back at her, the simulated moonlight flickering in her red and blue eyes. The hope in them was growing stronger. It lifted Ragatha in a way she hadn’t been lifted in a long time and crushed her all at once; a wave of guilt came with the joy. Pomni would be disappointed, and Ragatha knew it. Trying to mitigate her optimism, she added, “I mean… it’s not like things can get much worse.”

Pomni’s eyes flicked back upwards. Disappointment, to a smaller degree, had already pricked her with just those doubtful words. “Right.”

Even more guilt filled Ragatha. “I can help bring it up to everyone else tomorrow,” she offered. “I really do think it’s something to try. I’ll stand by you on it!”

Pomni took a deep breath. Her voice was stable again, her breathing steadied by the hands she rested on her stomach. It was worth trying. Anything was worth trying at that point. Like Ragatha said, what could get worse? She shoved the doubts away, to the back of her mind—still very much there, but hidden behind determination. “Okay. Tomorrow.”

Ragatha smiled a little. Pomni didn’t. She just stared up. Silence hung between them again, though it wasn’t awkward anymore; it was tense, filled with fragile hopes, fluffy clouds drifting and evaporating in the sky. Yet, somehow, they both felt a kind of security in it. Security in chance.

“I really, really hope this works,” Pomni said.

“It… probably won’t, if I’m being honest,” Ragatha couldn’t help but say, a nervous chuckle punctuating her words.

“I-I know. Still.”

Something twinged in Ragatha’s chest that made her smile all the more sincerely. Some kind of familiarity maybe, or care, or… maybe a bit of her own hope, awoken after so long. “Well… that’s sure a breath of fresh air around here.” She closed her eye. “I like that about you, Pomni.”

Pomni glanced at Ragatha for a second, but she heard right. Maybe she did have a friend in the Circus after all. Maybe what she guessed after the funeral earlier was right. Maybe, even if whatever happened tomorrow didn’t go as planned, everything would be okay. Somehow.

[aayakashii]

I'm going through the Sinostra chapter right now and I can't stop making theories omg there might be spoilers below so be careful, although I'm just enumerating my questions tbh lol

According to one of Taiga's home screen dialogs, there might be some sort of time loop happening which he's KINDA aware of? Or maybe just aware when triggered somehow.

He said "long time no see! You decide to ditch this future too? Sorry I'm not dead yet" which is INCREDIBLY ooc as to how he behaves during the story which leads me to

His extreme memory loss, which apparently lasts less than 24 hours. Why is that? Did he go through so many time loops that it started affecting his memory? There was one small moment in which he remembered Ritsu because he saw the MC face though...

The Clash. What the fuck was it

What's Taiga relationship to Haru? Haru sounds eerily nonchalant regarding Taiga even though the man keeps on threatening Peekaboo. And aftewards, Rui briefly mentions that Taiga has a "destroying what others hold dear" schtick, which leads me to believe that Taiga is seeking revenge for losing something important maybe???? Is the fanfic brainrot too big rn

WHY DOES HE HATE LIKE DOVES??????? I dont wanna go full romantic mode, but is he just resentful of seeing a bird that is the physical representation of someone else's feelings or something......

The spy. Honestly no idea. There's some theories floating around that Haku is the spy, but I would rather see him during the Hotarubi episode before jumping to conclusions, but it's understandable how people might think that I guess...? He IS very nice and helpful and randomly finding the MC fleeing by train was way too much of a coincidence... he does seem to always tie the MC to Darkwick somehow, firstly by KIDNAPPING her and then by talking her into staying. If the MC is the trigger to a bigger event, then one could see that as suspicious. But I would like a bit more evidence first lol

Back to Taiga, why is he. Like why

Okay no but seriously. If we take the timeloop thing seriously + Haku being a spy, here's the theory:

Taiga knows the MC is the trigger for an awful event and tried killing them back in the Prologue in order to cut the problem on its roots. Haku, if we consider him as the spy, WANTS the event to happen (considering he could also be aware of the loop), which is why he saved us and took us to Darkwick, therefore letting it all play out once again.

If Haku isn't the spy, then we would have to chalk it up as Taiga knowing and trying to kill us, but destiny (???) being a bitch, therefore putting Haku there as a pawn to make things play out again

Maybe the spy can control other ghouls? Who know tbh

Finally, what is going on during the first scene we see in the game? Darkwick on fire and the first character we choose jumping off of the building? I wonder what would happen if we choose Taiga as our first card....... maybe I should create a sub acc

Anyway if anyone has more questions/theories PLEASE SEND THEM MY WAY IM OBSESSED WITH THIS GAME I NEED TO THINK ABT IT

There is also a good theory on reddit made by u/imonlybr16 that states this:

"Before the prologue, when you open the game for the first time, you're greeted with the opening scene involving MC running through the halls of a ruined Darkwick. The question is asked "When the world is collapsing around you, whose hand will you take?"

There you're taken to your character choice screen. The guy you choose is later shown on the railing of a balcony, about to jump off.

Now I think I have a very far fetched and vague idea as to what is going on.

In chapter 2, we learn that the person that Alan killed was Dante or at least he thought he did. But we meet Dante and he's very much alive.

This comes theory number one.

***You can't actually die on campus.***

Note the use of actually here. You can 100% still die, you just end up coming back to life.

If Rui is your home screen he talks about accidentally killing someone else in his dorm and being annoyed with having to lift them back to Obscuary. This struck me as a particularly odd dialogue because Rui's curse causes people to die.

Unless, you can't die on campus.

This would explain Dante pretty much instantly. Yes Alan killed him but yes he's alive.

The campus itself is an anomaly, stopping people from dying doesn't sound too far fetched. I expect this to be revealed with the other two members of Obscuary, as that dorm seems to have a connection to death. One of the things that always pops up is that ghouls aren't immortal, no matter how quickly they heal.

Also explains how Calamari didn't die in chapter 3. Ren ran from the dorm > the caves > the jetty and Calamari was already pretty dehydrated in the beginning.

But OP you might say, aren't all the guys talking like they believe they're going to die.

Luckily, that brings us to vauge and far fetched theory number two.

***The campus is on fire due to a rebellion***

In the very last chapter of the prologue we get to see Kaito's wickhive. There we see three pretty interesting threads.

. There's gonna be an uprising soon

. One of you is a demon

. There's a guy who could see the future

Kaito is surprised at something he sees in this scene but we don't learn what it is. This chapter's 'preview' is one of the scenes we see in the very beginning. Blood and a Lily.

I believe that the first thread is foreshadowing and will . After you meet your chosen guy standing on the railing you get a line of dialogue (or not if you picked Towa) that changes depending on who you picked. Some imply that what they're doing is going to save you(Jiro, Zenji and Sho), some apologize stating that they could protect what they cared about until the very end (Luca,Kaito,Haru and Yuri) but three characters caught my attention

Leo: Life sucks and then you die,right? I just want to make the assholes responsible regret it.

Ren: This is exactly why I didn't to do this! I knew this was how it was going to end.

Subaru: This is all my fault. I don't expect you to forgive me, but this is the least I can do. Please take this as my final act of good faith.

Especially Subaru's and Ren's, that seemingly imply either the MC's (Ren's) or their (Subaru) involvement in the current situation. Now what does this has to do with a potential uprising?

One of the things we learn from the very beginning is the inter-politics of the houses and by extension the ghouls. Especially after the fallout of the clash. Things are pretty tense and an uprising or rebellion seems to be the most likely thing.

As to what happened and why? I have no clue. Though one thing to note is that according to the prophecy, as long as the ghouls are in Darkwick, they prevent a disaster from coming. If Darkwick is destroyed however, the prophecy can't be fulfilled, or can it?"

This is such a good theory too, I really think u/imonlybr16 has probably gotten a lot of things right.

Although it's weird that death is such a big threat to us specifically, but maybe the Academy can't prevent death by curses, much like the Mesmer Matches dont work on someone who's cursed. Hhmm...

[alastyr-not-alastair]

My boy my wonderful boy my son I love him so much

This isn’t a scene in my upcoming fanfic (yet) but I couldn’t resist drawing Rainbow Steve when I got hit with the inspiration to write and honestly? I was pretty happy with how the drawing turned out

And of course a bonus baby Rainbow Steve who’s about 5 apples big and got out of the test tube 20 minutes ago

I have so many head canons and beliefs and I must scream

I vaguely remember at some point in one of the Steve series, the younger the Steve the brighter they are, so I naturally thought “baby rainbow…. Pastel……..”

His eyes are supposed to be all the colours but since colouring hates me, it just looks grey instead in this pic

I do believe that his hair ends up brighter once he’s older but as a small child? It’s far more dull. His little sweater should be a colour shifting type thing but I have no clue how I would even draw that so

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Tell me, what did you think of ML when you first discovered it? I thought Chloe's arc in season 2 was decent for this type of show, even if it could have been better. I also never took Marinette's obsessive behavior over Adrien that seriously until it started getting really grating.

My first interaction with ML consisted of me looking for kids shows to watch in Spanish, finding Miraculous on Netflix, watching maybe three minutes of The Bubbler, and then turning the show off because it didn't seem very good. That's the episode that starts with Marinette freaking out about giving Adrien a birthday present and it gave me the impression that Miraculous was doing the classic female-protagonist-pines-for-the-male-protagonist-who-barely-even-knows-her-name trope, which is not a trope that I'm into. I'm way too ace for that shit. This is the scene in question as I looked it up to make sure I was remembering it correctly:

Marinette: Ah! (she stops right in front of Adrien.) Um, he-- Hey! (she gets nervous as she holds her gift behind her back.) Adrien:(surprised, shyly) Hey. Chloé:(as she watches what's happening outside) Wait! Am I seeing what I think I'm seeing? Don't tell me it's Adrien's birthday?! Sabrina:(checks her tablet, gets surprised, and makes excusing noises while smiling sheepishly.) Chloé:(facepalms) Ugh, do I have to do everything myself? Seriously, what are you good for? (walks toward Adrien.) Marinette:(nervously) I, uh, I wanted to, umm, gift you a make-– I mean, gift you a give I made-- I mean... Chloé:(yawns while Marinette is talking and then shoves her away) Out of the way. (she acts sweet.) Happy birthday, Adrien! (throws herself onto him and gives him a kiss on the cheek.) Mwah! Adrien:(surprised) Yeah, thanks Chlo.

This backs up my vague memory that my initial assumption was that Adrien and Chloé were friends while Adrien didn't know who Marinette was because he was clearly much more comfortable with Chloé. Same goes for Nino who was talking to Adrien earlier in this scene.

I'm not sure when this first watch occurred, but I know it was at least a year before I revisited the show. I made a friend in another fandom and that friend was transitioning out of Miraculous, but they had a lot of really good Miraculous fanart and even some fanfic which got me curious as I couldn't understand why anyone would be into the show given my dismal initial impression.

On this friend's recommendation, my SO and I started watching Miraculous an episode or two at a time. I was pretty unimpressed with the actual show, but I started reading early fandom fanfic between our watching sessions and that kept me interested enough to keep watching. My initial impression of the show didn't really change until we watched Origins. That's the episode that really made me fall in love with the canon characters as it took everything about the show and elevated it. The crushes had depth! The Chloé/Adrien thing wasn't just the bitchy rich girl going after the popular boy! Gabriel was confirmed to be the big bad! Things were suddenly going places and that honestly wasn't surprising.

It's incredibly common for kids shows to have lackluster first seasons where they don't really commit to anything major re plot because they're just testing the waters to see if they'll be green lit for more seasons. Because of this, I was under the impression that Origins must have been when they got green lit and season two was going to do the standard kids show thing where they really get to dive into the plot and characters in a big way now that they're making money. This assumption was backed up by the addition of the new heroes to the show's intro.

For the first half of season two, I was invested as it seemed like we were finally getting seasonal arcs. Chloé seemed to be getting set up for some sort of character arc, which I was all for as I enjoy a good mean girl arc. We also had some tension brewing between our heroes with Fu favoring Marinette, a dynamic that felt more accidental than planned since it only happened because Marinette found the grimoire at the end of season one. I thought all of that was going to come to a head with Chloé's Queen Bee debut as things had seemingly been set up for Chloé to be Adrien's pick for a Miraculous.

Then Queen Bee actually happened and my excitement quickly faded. I still cannot think of a less interesting way for Chloé to get and use the bee. No one gives it to her and she outs herself on national television right away? Talk about wasting an idea. Clearly this had just been a one-off thing done so that the show could drive up hype for season two based on promo images of Chloé as a hero.

But it wasn't a one off thing. For some reason, they kept bringing Queen Bee back and that's when I knew we were in for a bad time because that should have never happened. It especially shouldn't have happened when Marinette was giving out the miraculous. I could maybe see a setup where Adrien gives Chloé a second chance, but Marinette trusting Chloé made no sense:

Marinette: I must choose someone who's not impressed by people in power. Who can help me trap Malediktator. Huh?! Of course! That's it. (reaches for the Miraculous of the Bee) Wait, what am I thinking? (facepalms)

Yeah, what are you thinking? Alya was your first choice for the bee, she isn't impressed by people in power, and she wasn't hit by Malediktator, so go grab her! Why would you pick Chloé?

Long story short, I kept watching because the show wasn't terrible, my SO enjoyed hearing me dunk on it as we watched it, and I was really enjoying the fan content, but I didn't have much faith in canon after the midpoint of season two and I continually lost faith as the seasons progressed. I never pictured it getting as bad as seasons five, but I only had hopes for Miraculous to be truly good for about 2 weeks as that's how long it took us to get from Origins to the Queen Bee mess. I was also disappointed by Alya and Nino's hero journeys. I expected them to be chosen for grander reasons. As is, it felt like they only got recruited because their loved ones were in danger.

Since you brought up Marinette's crush, I'll end by saying that I have never been a fan of that style of crush-based humor (once again, way too ace for that shit), but it didn't bother me in a serious way because it was very obviously meant to be humorous. I just suffered through the jokes when they happened and then moved on as there was no reason to dwell on them. It probably helped that I was reading a lot of fanfic and even the people who love the show generally agree that Marinette's crush should be played down in more serious stories.

The only time Marinette's crush bothered me was Derision as that episode straight up destroyed her character. It also made the writers look awful because they made Kim the bad guy for laughing at Marinette's behavior, but we'd just spent over four seasons being told Marinette's behavior was a joke, so what is the lesson here? Are we all supposed to feel guilty for laughing at a trauma response we didn't know was a trauma response? Are the writers saying that trauma is funny? How can you be so tone deaf?

[tangents-within-tangents]

Recently reread the Underland Chronicles so I decided to dig through and find the old fanart I did when I first read the series like 11 years ago (wow i’m old) so please enjoy

Featuring my Mark Crilley manga phase, my terrible handwriting lol, ✨copic markers✨, random details I latched on to for some reason, FEELs wtf bro, and me somehow missing the fact that Luxa got a haircut in book one, and spoilers (fr go read these books if you haven't they are so good)

Luxa and Henry (and questionable armor choices??)

The weave texture was meant to show that their clothes are made of spider silk (Idk what the random thigh pouch is supposed to be tho)

Hamnet and Hazard (and long arms so they can hold hands lol)

Queen Luxa

Yeah 13 year old me really latched on to Luxa and tried to make her my personality lolll

And for some reason the fish-shape crystal thing really stood out to me I guess

And the turtle trapdoor, I remembered that bit specifically during my reread bc I pictured this drawing I did of it. (I also vaguely remember writing (like by hand in my notebook) a mini missing scene fanfic about Luxa using the turtle trapdoor when she snuck out to join the quest in PoB XD)

(Don't ask about that size difference lol)

Okay here come the scenes/spoilers (and FEELS)

(and apparently I thought that holding Ares' claw meant his foot instead of his wing)

There you have it lol

I also distinctly remember making like a montage of Lapblood moments (the dart frog jumping near her face, strangled in the vines, sinking in quicksand (all near death experiences apparently, rip she had it rough), and Gregor brushing her fur) bc those were the moments I remembered and kept picturing during my reread. But unfortunately I could not for the LIFE of me find it!

Anyway, looking at your old art is cringeyyyy but it's still kinda fun too. This really is not how I picture the characters or clothing and stuff anymore, I might do some redraws if I ever find the time/motivation (lol as if) 

[boolger]

I’m dangerous ☆ chapter 7 ☆ COD fanfic

Originally posted on my AO3, where I post all my stuff. Always read the tags of my fanfics. MDNI

[Chapter 1] ☆ [chapter 2] ☆ [chapter 3] ☆ [chapter 4] ☆ [chapter 5] [chapter 6] ☆ [Chapter 7] ☆ [chapter 8]

☆ fem!reader x Kate Laswell ☆ explicit. MDNI. ☆ 7/10 ☆ 2,936 words

☆ Summary: You were a hacker and had been a thorn in the side of the 141 gang for a while, in particular as you tried to find out who the famous leader, Watcher, was. But they refuse to be blackmailed and won’t pay you.

So, to prove that you weren’t just bluffing, but were a serious threat to them, you kidnapped a random woman that you saw coming out from one of their meetings, figuring she was a secretary or girlfriend or something.

Oh, how wrong you were.

☆ Tags: au mob, gang, kidnapping, blackmailing, dub-con, angst, smut, death, grief/mourning, hacking, non-con drug use, bondage, spanking, kissing, rough sex, inaccurate portrayal of mob, suicidal thoughts, mention of blood, violence, more will be added

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The man who walked in was staring at Kate. He was 5’8, with an athletic build and short hair - the details were getting muddled in the darkness. There was only very little light from the hallway, shining in, illuminating the back of the man.

As he pulled his gun and it came into view, your mind felt like it was going to explode.

He was here to kill Kate.

He was here to kill Kate.

He -

Kate.

“Finally I have you, Watcher-“ the main whispered, making panic rise, watching him unlock the safety on the gun, “finally I can—“

You moved out of panic.

It wasn’t that you couldn’t see the temptation of just letting him shoot Kate, step backwards into the bathroom and let him take care of it. You wouldn’t be involved in it, whoever this psycho was. 

Yet, you still moved.

This time you didn’t have a taser, you didn’t have any drugs, hell you barely had a plan. The plan you had was so vague that you were impressed it worked in the seconds it took you to complete it.

Romeo and Juliet was a classic. It had been reinterpreted and recreated over and over again, in so many different ways and in many different mediums, but you had always been fond of the written versions.

In a way you wished you could remember one of the more iconic lines from it, but despite reading it at least once a year, your mind had been poisoned by the years of coding and hacking, from the stress of the last couple of days.

You threw the hardcover book directly at the man who barely managed to say anything before it collided with his face, all the dramatic scenes inside it making him stumble, falling over your laptop abandoned on the floor - and for that moment and that moment only, you felt dangerous.

With a couple of fast steps and quick hands, you pulled the gun out of his hand, flinching as it got off - but you threw it away and picked up what you could always trust.

Your book.

Written words printed on paper couldn't be hacked or changed, not like when it was on the screen.

There was movement around you and you felt pain as the man beneath you struggled, screaming bloody murder as you sat on his chest and just repeatedly slammed your book into his face, feeling his nose crunch one of the times. You might as well have hit him with your fear of emotional attachment.

Light turned on, voices, gunshots, yelling, screaming. 

You were hurting someone, you realised in terror, not to kidnap or in self defence - but because he threatened a mob boss you had somehow found yourself close to.

Violence was never the answer yet you didn’t give a shit, as you slammed Romeo and Juliet onto his face once more, full force.

You were the one screaming you realised, in anger and panic at the same time, as a pair of strong hands pulled you off the intruder, the book ripped from your hand, blood smeared onto the pages. Bleeding into the already tragic words of the story.

“Hey hey hey - It’s alright, Fae,” Gaz’s hands were on your cheeks, the man you had found annoying mere hours before, were suddenly like a beacon in the dark, grounding you and ripping you from the odd nightmare of your mind, “it’s okay, we got him.”

Everything went blurry for a moment, then unblurry - and then you saw Ghost and Price pull out the man you had attacked, pissed themselves, but clearly not at you. They disappeared out of the room and you blinked, Gaz in front of your face again.

“Fae what happened?” He asked, still holding onto your cheeks, maybe to calm you, maybe to make you stop shaking. You weren’t sure, but you felt out of air, just like when you ran away. 

Fear rushing through you for what you had just done.

“Fae - c’mon, speak tae us, lassie,” Soap was there too, brows furrowed, “it’s over now.”

“He - he - I went to the bathroom - and he was there - with a gun - pointed at Ka-Kate oh god is Kate okay, is Kate—“ tears were welling up in your eyes without your permission, fear rushing through you once more at the thought of Kate being killed before you could do anything; it made you want to throw up and you might as well just kill your—

“Sssh, pretty girl,” it was the voice of an Angel, the voice of a goddess, wearing nightclothes and with messy hair, whose pretty fingers pushed away Gaz’ hands, taking their place, “did he say anything, Fae?”

“He - he said finally I have you watcher - and then he aimed the gun at you and I panicked and I threw the book and and—“ 

Kate shushed you gently, leaning forward to rest her forehead against yours.

“Such a good girl,” she whispered and the world stopped spinning while she caressed your cheek, “such a good girl for saving me, thank you.”

Nothing but a whimper was able to leave you, words dying on your tongue, tears welling up once again. You wondered if you looked pathetic, if you should be embarrassed that Soap and Gaz saw this, and heard Kate calling you a good girl.

But you were a good girl once more - even though you didn’t feel particularly good, as you looked down at your bloody hands. Stained, just like all the people around you.

The man turned out to be one Phillip Graves. Another gang leader if you weren’t wrong and you speculated that he was one of the senders of the email interactions. You didn’t want to watch the security footage of him entering the room, even when offered. Your hands still felt dirty, despite having washed them several times. Besides, that still left the mole to be found - but Kate was safe at least. Two guards had died, which you presumed to have been the bump sounds you had heard earlier.

They left you, told you to sleep. To close your eyes and forget everything that just happened.

You didn’t get much sleep that night, despite several people telling you that you were safe.

They all went to deal with Graves and get rid of the bodies of two of his men too, while you laid in Kate’s bed, watching the door.

Waiting for Graves to walk in again..

Constantly hearing the sound of the book connecting with his face. You had broken his nose, split his lip and potentially ruined one of his eyes, they told you. As if you should be proud. The thought made you gag.

Dangerous. You had been dangerous, like you had wanted to seem to Kate at first. But you had never wanted to actually be dangerous, had you? The mere thought of Alice knowing what had happened, made you want to cry.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

It was early morning when Kate reappeared, instantly noticing that you weren’t asleep. Her face softened.

She was dressed differently than earlier, fully in black, hair that had been loose during the night, now pulled back away from her face. You didn’t say anything, your gaze resting on her - she winked at you, barely visible in the dimly lit room, making you huff - then she undressed.

For just a mere moment, you dreamt yourself away into a reality where Kate Laswell weren’t a mobster, merely a business woman or something - that she was your actual partner, coming home from a long shift, to hold you so that the two of you could sleep all night.

Yet, she wasn’t. You watched her walk into the bathroom, only in her bra and panties, turning on the light and hearing her rinse her face - you dared to believe that she wasn’t cleaning off blood. She reappeared just a moment later, hair framing her face, body backlit by the bathroom light. 

The light disappeared before she stepped closer, walking to you in the bed. Her hand was a little cold from the water, but you didn’t mind, leaning into the touch.

“Have you slept at all, Fae?” She asked gently. You shook your head. She climbed the bed, pushing you onto your back and settling in your lap before you could do anything. Kate Laswell was dangerous - you knew,, yet as she straddled you, you wanted to do anything for her. You wanted so badly to be good for her.

One hand rested on the mattress next to your head and the other on your cheek, as she leant over your - your lips meeting, a soft sound leaving you. Was this just… a reward? For having saved her life? You didn’t know, but even if it was, you didn’t mind.

Kissing her was like being dominated. Soft lips and tongue, sharp teeth to remind you who was in control. It sent burning sensations all through you, a whine escaping as her tongue played with yours, your fingers itching to touch her.

“Please,” you managed, as she finally let you breathe, chasing her lips for a moment, finally daring to touch, almost ready to beg her to do something.

“You don’t have to beg, Fae,” she whispered, a dark tone to her voice, “I’ll give you whatever you want.”

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You were crying and squirming, twisting in the handcuffs that made it impossible for you to touch. Legs cramping a little, toes curling as she grabbed your plush thighs even harder, making escape from her warm, clever tongue out of the question.

She had made you come on her tongue and fingers two times already, trying to coach your oversensitive pussy to give you a third orgasm. Switching between fucking your hole with her tongue, sucking and licking your clit.

“Kate, Kateekatekate–” you were pretty sure your moans had stopped making sense after the first orgasm, but the older woman didn’t seem to mind; grinning into your cunt, as if she had found her new favourite thing to do.

Once again she pulled you to the edge of pleasure, teasing your body by offering it to reach the euphoria it earned for - and you were ready for it, so ready that it hurt. Your body tensed once more, a whimper leaving you and and and and –

Kate pulled back. 

A distressed sound left you as you were denied the high, eyes flying open as you moved your head to look down at her, almost coming at the mere sight of her.

Big, dangerous Kate Laswell, the unknown mob boss of the 141 gang, covered in spit and your slick, red in the face, her lips a little swollen - grinning, like a predator that had just been fed and offered extras, resting her head against your thigh.

The sound that escaped you was embarrassing, an almost pornographic, desperate moan at the sight, only making her laugh.

“So sweet, my little hacker,” she crooned darkly, “do you want more, darling?”

“Yesyesmore, please, Kate, miss, please,” the words almost stumbled out of your mouth without any pause, eyelids fluttering shortly as she kissed your thigh for a moment - then further up, towards your exposed, puffy and dripping cunt, the kissing turning into licking. Her tongue traced your stretch marks, a pleased hum leaving her as you continued your desperate words. 

A kiss to your pussy and then… nothing. Kate pulled back, almost making you ready to cry.

“Patience, Fae,” she cooed teasingly at you as you all but hiccuped with despair, “I have more for you.”

Said more, was a strap on with an almost 6 inches long dildo, that was currently bullying its way into you, making you twist and gasp as it stretched you. Despite already being loose from her fingers and mouth, it was different to be filled like this.

“Like this, hm?” she asked darkly, “dirty little thing, hm?”

You nodded, past feeling shameful if it meant she wouldn’t stop.

“Kate,” you gasped, a chuckle leaving her as she finally stilled, fully inside of you.

“I love when you moan my name,” she whispered darkly, grinding even deeper into you, making you wail. It had been a while since you had anything inside you, especially of this size, but Kate was clearly eating up every reaction raw, as if she could survive, only from this.

She fucked you stupid. It was rude words, but you were unable to describe it in any other way, unable to do anything but babble in pleasure, moaning and twisting in the handcuffs binding you to the bed.

Her fingers, all over you, digging into the fat of your thighs or stomach, her lips against yours or licking at your nipples.

Somehow, she made you come twice again. 

When she wanted you to sleep afterwards however, you refused. You might be out of energy, but you suddenly found your tongue, begging her to let you get her off, in any way she wanted. To do you the honour of using you.

She rode your face and you were sure you were in heaven between her strong thighs. Licking, sucking, whatever she demanded you to do. Kate’s fingers buried in your hair, gripping it and using you as if you were nothing but a toy to her.

If you could spend the rest of your life somewhere, it would be between the legs of this woman, worshipping her endlessly, offering Kate as many orgasms as she wanted, bringing her over the edge again and again. You would die happily with your face in her cunt, tasting her juices, letting her soak your face.

You could sleep afterwards, better than you had in a while.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Confusion overwhelmed your mind for a moment. Your gaze shifted from hers, then to the open gate.

“What?” You were sure you hadn’t heard her correctly, sure that it was some sort of test, to see if you would behave. 

You could see some of the others in the background, but they were like blurry silhouettes too you, the only one who mattered right now was the older woman who looked cold. 

“I told you to leave.” She repeated calmly. She was in one of her suits, looking beautiful and ready for the day. She had gotten you dressed up too, in new clothes, even with shoes on your feet. Which made more sense now.

“Is… Is this a test?” You were unable to hold back the confusion in your tone of voice, brows furrowing as you looked at her. Her eyes somehow seemed more blue today. 

Annoyance flashed on her face. Anger.

“Go home, Fae.” She repeated, slower and darker, almost degradingly, “leave, go home, fuck off. Out.”

Your eyes flickered to the men behind her, but they made no movement, merely watching the two of you. You looked back at Kate, in her sharp suit, hair pulled up, arms crossed and with an emotionless smile. 

“Are you serious?”

There was no hint of glee in your voice. Leave. Fuck off. Out. Did you do something to upset her, you wondered, did you not do well enough with Graves?

Kate nodded, not even bothering to answer your question verbally.

“I-” you wanted so badly to ask about what happened last night, if it was because you were inexperienced, if it was because she hadn’t been able to find the mole - if it was something anything that you could do better, “No - Kate, I don’t - I don’t want to–”

“How many times do I have to say it?” her voice darker, angrier, raising in volume too, “Get the fuck off my property, Fae. Go. Home. I don’t want you, don’t need you. You’ve paid back what you needed to.”

The words made you want to vomit. From anger, sadness, surprise - shame. Was this… all nothing for her? Had this been a payment kind of thing, had she not meant anything? Every sweet word that had dripped from her tongue like honey, every praise and secret, the moments you had laid next to each other in bed, like an odd comfort? 

This wasn’t Kate Laswell. This was Watcher.

You turned around on your heel, walking towards the open gate, wanting to scream, to yell profanities at her, say something mean, something you would regret. You wanted to hit her, merely in the hopes that it meant you could stay, even if it meant punishment.

When did you begin to feel like this?

You stopped, almost out the gate, almost touching the pavement that your feet had touched at your escape attempt, that felt like aeons ago by now. For just a moment, you considered turning around. Letting those words escape you, mean, rude, awful words, just to get a different reaction. Yet your tongue felt limp in your mouth and you knew you would cry.

You wanted to turn, to take a last look at her. 

Instead you took a deep breath. Then you bolted, already knowing the way towards a populated street.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

There was money in one pocket of the jacket you had been given. Your phone in the other.

The busride home was long and bumpy, but you didn’t care, merely staring out in the air, not even bothering to look at your phone.

Your house was empty, things having been put back to their places after they rummaged around. You just dropped the jacket, picking up mail - abandoning it on the table, ready to go lay down on the mattress you had kept Kate on, for such a short while.

Only to notice the sender of one of the letters.

The hospital.

[universallydestinytaco]

The Little Smiling Mermaid (Chapter 5)

AKA The one where Alan sings! (Sorry I didn’t have enough time for an elaborate illustration because this week was busy as hell)

Originally Charlie was going to sing at the end of this chapter but it’s getting pretty long, so perhaps next time he will…also I figured I’d update this story every two weeks to give me more time to finish this story and draw illustrations for it. Thank you for your support of my fanfic!

Charlie had just experienced the wildest night of his life…and considering his rambunctious buccaneering lifestyle, that was saying a lot! Right after Salty’s crew mates crashed his already-rowdy party and turned it into another sloppy brawl, he got flung overboard and briefly rescued by that mysterious pink critter with the rosy locks and the soothing, angelic voice…and right after his friends found him and brought him back to their ragtag vessel, he hurled and passed out right then-and-there.

When Charlie woke up in his chamber, he could barely remember anything about last night other than a vague image of that mystery critter that gave him an indescribable feeling of uncertainty yet warmth. Just then he heard his door creek open as his ever-excitable scullery maid and part-time cabin gal Smormu chirped in a sing-song manner: “Good Afternoon, Princey! Hope you’re feeling better…” Charlie’s eyes were open yet he wasn’t exactly “awake” enough to croak out a single coherent response. Smormu greeted the foggy-minded scallywag Prince a tray carrying an open-faced sandwich consisting of one buttered slice of rye bread topped with bacon, liverwurst, aspic, tomatoes, horseradish and parsley. “Chef Spitz is on his smoke break so I went in the kitchen and prepared your favorite, Smorie…S-Smormu…” As you an see, Smormu clearly had trouble pronouncing the name of the dish, whose delightful homecooked smell made its way to Charlie’s nostrils and brought that poor washed-up boy back to reality. Charlie sprang out of bed smacking his lips and replying to the studdering Smormu: “Aw man, I could really go for some Smørrebrød right now!” as he immediately reached his long chunky arm to irreverently swipe the tray from the maid’s hand to take a bite, wasting no time savoring the lovingly prepared dish. With an audible gulp, he blurted out: “Thanks sis, you shouldn’t have.” Smormu giggled with a friendly response: “Anytime, buddy…” she trailed off for a minute until she remembered a crucial announcement she was also designated to deliver with the Smørrebrød. “…Oh! I also have an exciting announcement! Your Uncle is visiting the Palace and he’s halfway there!” That last sentence alone sadistically echoed in Charlie’s head as his delighted smile quickly wilted into a more depleted and soured frown. “What’s wrong, too much horseradish?” Asked poor, naive little Smormu. Charlie was aware that she only had this job for half a year and didn’t understand why an “exciting announcement” would bring him down like this. “It’s hard to explain.”

Charlie sighed as he reluctantly got up to get dressed as Smormu fled the scene to give him some privacy. Charlie knew very well he was once again going to be stuck in that stuffy, navy-blue suit he just couldn’t stand to wear as not only it wasn’t nearly as loose and comfortable as his “adventure” clothes, the suit alone would remind him of his least fondly-remembered moments of his life. He reluctantly recalled the last time he wore it was when he was invited to a banquet thrown by a precious suitor, Princess Zoey of a neighboring kingdom. He liked Zoey and she liked him back, she even stood up for him when he was being teased by the other noble guests for his “blobfish”-like appearance and nasally voice. It all went downhill after he drank a little too much punch to pass the time and as a result got so violently intoxicated that he was swinging on the chandelier hollering curse words in another language until accidentally ripping the chandelier out of the ceiling and crashing it onto the floor. Not only was Charlie thrown out, the countries cut ties with each other and briefly went to war as a result of this actions. Even if it was two or three-ish years ago, Charlie could still strongly feel the shame and embarrassment he faced in the aftermath of his stunt, especially most dreadful of all his Uncle arriving to deliver a long, harsh lecture on how he’d never find a suitor and even if he was next in line on the throne that the Dompler line would tragically end with him and how he wished his parents lived long enough to spawn a proper heir so that they could pawn their mistake of a son off to some lowbrow kingdom like Spamtopia. Charlie shuddered as his Uncle’s cruel words circled his brain like vultures preying upon a vulnerable mouse. As Charlie squirmed his way into his attire, he felt less like a noble putting on formal clothes for an important Family meeting and much more like a prisoner on death row and on his way to be disposed of by an executioner.

The sharply-dressed yet reluctant Charlie finally crept down the stairs from his chamber, making way into the throne room where his grandmother was perched on her seat with Mr. Boss by her side as she conversed with a man who resembled Charlie, except he looked and acted the exact opposite of her grandson. He was a slender, puke pale yellow critter whose face was decorated in wrinkles and scowl-marks, and two scars adorned on on his lower lip and left eye as marks left over from a war he happily volunteered in long ago to earn his status as a true “Alpha Male”. Behind him was a short maiden with long auburn hair, a large round nose, and a green dress draped with a brown shawl

With an audible gulp, Charlie piped up in an uncharacteristically sheepish manner, “S’up man?” While struggling to face his Uncle eye-to-eye as the older critter turned his attention away from the family matriarch to shoot daggers at his nephew. “Well I’ll be damned, it’s our monarchy’s biggest mistake.” He responded with a sardonic chuckle, continuing: “But don’t worry, you won’t be looked down upon as the Screw-Up Prince of Gremblonia for long…IF you manage to do just one thing right…” and suffice to say that neither the Queen or Mr. Boss where even a little amused by any of the shit that was spewing out of this asshole’s mouth. Mr. Boss was tempted to give the pompous Duke a piece of his mind had it not been for the Queen gently holding him back and pacifying the intense atmosphere with her firm-yet-gentle words: “Now Eustace, please show some respect to our dear Charlie, he is a member of this family after all, Oh! A-aren’t you going to tell us about the suitor you picked out for our boy?” After about five seconds of pure unadulterated silence, Duke Eustace Dompler sighed and continued, barely restraining his resentment towards his nephew. “Luckily for you I picked out a suitor-ette who’s ever-so kindly willing to give you a chance.” said Eustace in a passive-aggressive tone as he stepped back from Charlie to gesture his hand toward the girl he presented to the group: “I introduce before this court Princess Mipnessa of the Enchanted Forest.” Princess Mipnessa curtsied with her own verbal introduction: “Pleasant Greetings, Queen Dolores and Prince Charles.” Charlie’s eyes widened when he noticed Mipnessa’s head-shape, her stubby appearance and her hair, all of a sudden a vague and fuzzy memory was coming back to him but he couldn’t exactly put his finger on it; “Charlie, are you okay sweetheart?” Queen Dolores gently snapped Charlie out of his trance as he started sweating bullets, blurting out: “Salutations, my Noble Maiden Fair!” Queen Dolores and Mipnessa giggled at Charlie’s presentation, assuming he was deliberately clowning around. “That’s my grandson, so spontaneous! You’re going to enjoy his company.” Eustace rolled his eyes at his awkward dork of a nephew. Charlie darted his eyes back and forth until he pulled out his Ocarina to show to Mipnessa. “Dunno if this is the right instrument for serenading but I’ve been playing this since I was a homunculi.” Charlie then performed the melody to “The Raked Hornpipe” which ended in applause from the rest, even Eustace was impressed.

~ Back in the sapphire waves below, Pim couldn’t get his mind off of Charlie, swimming in loop-de-loops humming a sweet melody before barrel-rolling into a bed of water hyacinths to stretch his stubby arms and tail, giggling and swooning over the mental image of that hunky yellow critter. He picked one of the hyacinths and started plucking one petal at a time, murmuring to himself “He loves me, he loves me not…” while the back of his mind was trying to spell out how he was forgetting one crucial thing, now what was it again? Glep picked some barnacles off a rock and crunched them in his mouth like popcorn while watching his twitter-pated bestie in amusement while Alan paced back and forth, agonizing over the hypothetical worst-case-scenario if the Royal Family retrieved Pim and found out about his antics since swimming away from home. When picking the last petal off the hyacinth, Pim squealed: “Oh, I knew it!!”, following by a giggling fit before rising out of the patch to triumphantly declare: “I gotta see him again- tonight!! Graham Nelly knows here he lives! I’ll swim up to his castle, then Glep will swim around to get his attention-” Alan cut Pim off to scold him with a concerned response: “Pim, you know it’s unhealthy to stay out of the water for too long, you’ll dehydrate! Besides, what if some hoard of blood thirsty fishmongers take you and turn you into a three course meal?!” Pim only stared at Alan in a daze before shaking his head, replying: “Oh Alan, not all land folk see us as food for slaughter.” Alan sighed, but not willing to give up trying to talk some sense in the headstrong-lovesick mercritter as a percussion beat in-tune was starting up: “Pim, listen to me: the mammalian world… it's a mess….besides, life under the sea is better than anything they got up there.”

Alan briefly cleared his throat before singing: “The seaweed is always greener in somebody else's lake! You dream about going up there~ but that is a big mistake.” He gestured his arm upward before making a shrugging pose and shaking his head before dramatically folding out his arms wide with a spin as Pim looked around, “Just look at the world around you right here on the ocean floor~” Just then little Swimming Meeps playfully circled around Pim as the pink mercritter giggled as Alan nodded off: “Such wonderful things around you! What more are you lookin' for?” The lobster started strutting across in a form of dance: “Under the sea~ under the seaaa~ darling it’s better-down where it’s wetter~ take it from meee!!” Glep chuckled at the silly little thought of crudely drawn versions of Pim and Alan, with the former literally taking the ocean away from the latter as he gasped for water. “Up on the shore they work all day~ Out in the sun they slave away~ while we devotin' full time to floatin' under the seaaaa!!” Alan’s song-and-dance caught the attention of other ocean dwellers and it proved to be so infectious that they all joined in, all of a sudden this subtle lecture cast out of genuine concern and worry was turning into an underwater dance party. Alan continued his theatrical editorial: “Down here all the fish are happy as off through the waves they roooll~ The fish on the land ain't happy-“ the tune got to Glep, as even he started singing along: “Eska-daya-zebawa-yo!”

“But fish in the bowl is lucky~ the rest have a worser fate! One day when the boss get hungry, guess who's gonna be on the plate?” Glep made a play-dead pose, stuffing a barnacle in his mouth to resemble a classic example of a roast pig. The crowd of fish and sea life obviously figured out that answer shouting in unison: “OH SHIT!”…not that it could break up the rowdy crowd’s jovial performance as everyone else continued backing up Alan’s number. As much as Pim disagreed with Alan’s view of the Land, he sure found it catchy! Pim twirled gracefully as fish swam around him, even tempting to sing along.

“Under the sea! Under the seaaa! No one can beat us, fry us or eat us~ in fricasseeeee!! We’re what the landfolks loves to cook, under the sea we’re off the hook! We got no troubles, life is the bubbles! Under the seaaaa!” A little chorus of singing meeps repeated back, “Under the sea!”

“Since life is sweet here, we got the beat here~ Naturally!! Even the sturgeon and the ray, they get the urge and start to play! We got the spirit, you got to hear it! Under the seaaaa!!” Some of the sea animals started contributing to Alan’s number with instruments, enriching the sound and building up to the inevitable climax as Alan pulled his conductor’s wand from some invisible pocket: “The newt, play the flute! The carp, play the harp! The plaice, play the bass! Now we’re soundin' sharp! The bass, play the brass! The chub, play the tub and the fluke, you’re the duke of soul!” A deep-voiced fluke agreed: “Oh, yeaaaaah!” Alan continued conducting the group while singing to Pim: “The ray sure can play, the ling's on the strings! The trout's rocking out! The catfish, she sings!” A literally half-fish half-cat harmonized with Pim much to Glep’s confusion. “The smelt and the sprat, they know where it's at and oh can that blowfish blow!” A brief instrumental breakdown ensued before Alan and Pim harmonized at the start of the big finish: “YEAAAAH UNDER THE SEA!!” “Under the seaaa~” “Under THE SEA!” “Under the seaaaa~!” “When the sardine begin the beguine it’s music to meeee!!!” “It’s music to meeee~” “What do they got? A lot of sand? We got a hot crustacean band! Each little clam here they know how to jam here~!”

The chorus began to help out Alan with wrapping up the number on a high note: “Under the seaaa!~ Each little slug here’s cuttin’ a rug here- Under the seaaaa!! Each little snail here knows how to wail here, that’s why it's hotter under the water! Pim, you’re in luck here-down in the muck, here!”

The band belted out one last: “UNDER THE SEAAAAA!!!”

Alan took a deep breath and regained his composure, not expecting to have let himself loose like that. “Well Pim, Whaddya say?…Pim?” As the band scattered, Alan looked around only to find Pim swam away again with Glep following suit. All that work and nothing to show for it! The exasperated crustacean rolled his eyes and snarked: “I swear, even if those two had their fins nailed to the floor, they’d still find a way to break free….”

Just when Alan was about to scuttle off to find his friends, an unexpected visitor snuck up behind him asking: “Alan, have you seen any sign of her?” Alan jumped as he nervously turned around to find Prince Damien, whose stoic exterior was used as a facade to hide the genuine concern and worry for his youngest sibling of which his stubborn father wrote off as nothing more than weakness. Alan was barely succeeding in masking his own anxiety, conflicted in confiding in arguably the least ferocious member of Pim’s family yet not wanting to reveal a clue to potentially lead to Pim to be unceremoniously dragged back home to be further mistreated. “No, but I’m trying my best, your majesty.” Alan started to feel grateful that Pim took off before anyone in his family could encounter him. “I’m gonna keep looking outside of the kingdom for her, I hope to Neptune he didn’t get scooped up by those fish eaters…” Alan just had a morbidly vivid vision of Pim screaming on a cutting board as a chef sharpened his knife. “I hope not either.” A deafening silence fell between the two, until Alan broke silence: “I’m going to keep looking for Pim.” Damien nodded in agreement, responding with: “I’ll look this way, you look over there.” before swimming off. When the coast was clear, Alan sighed in relief and scurried off.

During Alan’s showstopping song, Pim had realized too late he left his cloak on the island after taking it off to maneuver Charlie up on land. While retracing his steps and trying not to panic too badly, Pim remembered where he saw it last: laid out beneath a briefly waterlogged Charlie on the shore near those rocks….unfortunately there was no sign of the cloak as Pim’s anxiety gif to him as he burst into tears, bawling in despair: “My nanny woven that cloak! I’ve had it for so long and yet I’m such a careless idiot that I left it here!!” Glep comforted Pim best he could for a fish out of water, hugging the larger critter’s tail. Luckily good ol’ Graham Nelly cropped up and noticed the anguish of his younger cousin, asking: “Hey man, what’s with the blues?” Pim sniffled, replying with a wheeze: “I lost my cloak…I left it here when I rescued Chawlie.” Graham felt immense sympathy and patted Pim on the back, then he immediately remembered one crucial detail that was being ignored. “Eureka!” Graham proclaimed, Pim curiously asked while drying his eyes: “You know where it could be?” Graham confidently answered: “You know, I remember you using your cloak to hoist Charlie up and lying that salty kelp-critter burrito out on the shore…and when he took off I think he was wearing it-“ Pim’s face it up with a smile, hugging his cousin tightly. “That’s it! Oh thank you Graham Nelly, I love you!” The older cousin chuckled, “That’s not all, come follow me and I’ll take you to a shortcut to outside of his pad!”

Chapter 6 (Which I am typing out atm) Arrives In Two Weeks

[profoundrebelwobblerfriend]

Can someone please help me find this one Kim dokja X yoo joonghyuk fanfic where dokja transmigrated into a book (?) Into the character named Kim dokja. The Kim dokja of that story is like crazy for the crown prince Yoo joonghyuk and become a villain out of jealousy because too joonghyuk like seolhwa instead.

I'm very bad at explaining thing, especially when I only remember the fic vaguely but I remember this one scene where dokja and seolhwa was chilling outside (clocktower???) And have a chill conversation. Seolhwa got cold, dokja offer her his jacket. And then, joonghyuk burst out the door. Dokja was already on the run, like my man is sprinting. Joonghyuk sees dokja's jacket on seolhwa shoulder and turn bitter as shit. Have her his jacket instead. And chase after dokja.

Did I mention that they're also in some sort of academy situation? And in the original story joonghyuk freaking hate dokja.

So now he's intrigued, why this man who's been annoyingly chasing me stopped? Now imma chase him tf

Please help me find this fic 😭🙏

[kindlingkeen]

Heyo Keen, I have come to pester you once again. Your post about the Jason amnesia thing got me thinking about young justice (I started watching it recently, it’s very good) and the whole red hooded ninja plot (rip)

I have no clue if you’ve seen the clips (if you haven’t then: spoilers below)

-

Particularly the bit where he’s fighting Nightwing and there’s this whole moment where he says “Gray…son” and he’s told “your memories are returning”.

Anywho. personally I really loved that whole scene/idea even though it was real small. (Also the red hooded ninja design is banger imo) Just the idea of brothers so close yet not even realizing it & the whole amnesia/catatonic thing where seeing Nightwing helps him remember. Also iirc in this he takes care of Damien? (I’m not that far in the show yet so not 100% on that) which is really sweet. Super looking forward to where it goes if anyone picks up the show again.

Do you prefer the whole amnesia/ninja plot or the pit/Red Hood one? I love both and don’t really have a favourite, but I know some people lean pretty strong towards one or the other.

Hey friend! Please pester away! If it takes me a while to answer your asks, it’s only because I’m giving them serious consideration.

I haven’t seen Young Justice, but I’m vaguely familiar with the red hooded ninja story line via art I’ve come across on tumblr and a few fanfics. There’s one in particular that comes to mind where Ra’s contracts Slade to take over the LoA, and Slade interacts with Jay (I can’t remember the title or author, so if anyone knows what I’m talking about, drop a link so I can tag it properly). The first time I read one of these (without noticing the YJ tag listed in the fandoms), I was like ‘what tf is going on here—ohh, Jay with sword, yeah, okay, let’s do this.’

I am deeply and unhealthily attached to the pit/Red Hood story arc for Jason. It’s the storyline I know best in both the comics, dc alt media, and fandom worlds, and it’s the clearest characterization I have of Jay in my head. Part of my process for writing is to set certain ground truths for myself/the story based on comics canon, and then I build outward from there.

That said, the red hooded ninja concept pushes so many of my buttons, namely Jason being under Talia’s wing, Jason and Damian meeting in the League, Jason as a ninja assassin, Jason with a sword (errghhh it’s all sooo good). I also like the younger Dami/older Jay dynamic. Although, technically one of the alt endings to the A Death in the Family movie was Talia giving Jason baby Damian, so I suppose you could wrap that into a Red Hood storyline.

I’m working my way through the 90s Batman: The Animated Series (it’s my fav ‘it’s 10 pm and I’m too tired to do anything productive so I’m just gonna watch comfort TV’ pick right now). Maybe once I get through that, I’ll move on to YJ. 🙂

Thanks so much for the ask! 💙

[aoirishu]

Fanfic Help??

Hey! So, this is my last attempt as the Google gods have failed me, my ability to search the web has failed me and I’m half thinking this fanfic was a hallucination, but here we go.

I’m looking for this batfamily fanfic on ao3, but I can’t remember the name, just vague plot points?? I appreciate any help I get.

Here are the things I remember:

- Tim was a kid and so was Jason; they met somehow and Tim offered Jason to stay with him at Drake manor

- Tim made him, like, an identity? to attend school with him

- At some point, Dick shows up later on. Something, something, he’s an alumni of the school and was assigned Jason as his… understudy? Help buddy?

- Dick, Jason, and Tim get along (brothers being brothers), but not with Bruce

- One chapter they have a picnic together (Tim, Jason, and Dick) and then Bruce appears and Dick yells at him

- I’m digging through my memories and I think Bruce said to Dick “Why are you hanging out with middle schoolers?” at the picnic scene and Dick was all >:( “How dare you tell me what I can or cannot do??”

I don’t remember much about it, but yeah, I think it was wholesome? Or like wholesome/angst vibes? Appreciate any help possible!

(Will delete this once I find it)

Edit: I think it took place just after Dick left and became Nightwing, but Jason didn’t become Robin (cause Tim stole him lol)

[thealogie]

I'm sorry but I'm about to treat your ask box like a confessional.

You kind of deserve it, though, because due to your Sherlock rewatch posts I've been forced to remember that 1. Sherlock is a show that exists and 2. that I wrote Sherlock fanfic when I was 13... about SHERLOCK and MOLLY.

In my defence, I was a deeply deeply deeply repressed bisexual who hadn't realized it yet - so all of the obvious and insane gay stuff between Sherlock and John just completely sailed over my head. Also propaganda worked really well on me as a child - so basically I was the ideal viewer for Moftiss lol. There'd be scenes where people mistook Sherlock and John for a couple and I'd go 'huh that's kind of strange that keeps happening' but then it would be played off as a joke and I'd go 'oh yes of course, silly me! Gay people only exist as the punchline! Sherlock and John would NEVER be interested in each other that way. I can't believe anyone would ever think that haha.'

Flash forward to 2017. I'm 17 years old. I've kissed other women by now and have had my brain chemistry rewritten by copious amounts of slash fanfiction. Still young, but wiser to the ways of the world than I once was. The last time I watched Sherlock, I had been 14 years old. Sherlock season 4 airs. I watch it with my mom. It's so bad my brain immediately initiates a trauma response and wipes all memory of Sherlock away. This continues for years. The only times I remember Sherlock exists is whenever I joyfully watch hbomerguy's Sherlock Is Garbage video while I'm knitting or painting or something. Also whenever I have to type in a password for an account I made when I was 13 - because my go-to password was 'SHERLOCKED' back then, unfortunately.

Flash forward to now. I'm 24 years old. And I start seeing your posts about Sherlock. Like a sleeper agent, it awakens something in me. Yesterday, I spent a perfectly good Saturday - one I could have spent doing literally anything else - reading Johnlock fanfiction. I am suddenly re experiencing the show through new eyes, seeing all the queerbait I never did before. Getting hate-crimed on the daily. I'm thinking about Sherlock at work, at my adult fucking job. I'm watching scenes from the show on youtube in my office, quickly and guiltily clicking away whenever a coworker comes to chat. I am considering doing my own rewatch. I am realizing for the first time that John and Sherlock were literally in love. It's the only lens through which you can view the show and still have it be somewhat enjoyable. They literally put Mary in a wedding dress shooting Sherlock in his mind palace on TV. I feel like I'm having a religious experience, I feel like I'm insane, I feel like I'm 13 again. This is all vaguely November 5th-ish for me lol.

Anyway. I just thought you should know the impact your rewatch is having on the population. Sorry for the novel in your inbox. I've been desperately trying to find my old Sherlock x Molly fanfic to read for the lols but I think I deleted it off ffnet. I am both having the time of my life while also desperately hoping I forget Sherlock ever existed again soon. So, basically - thank you/curse you for this.

This is perhaps the best ask I’ve ever received?? I converted a sherlolly shipper in the year 2023? Listen I’d never wish a season 4 rewatch on anyone but I would highly recommend watching s1-2 and the wedding episode for a truly out of body experience. I felt more strongly about this show/ship than any other in my life and it was STILL worse than I remembered