#i was going to post this on new year's but i got self-conscious and didn't

[delicious-in-imagines]

Hii! Hope you’re doing well :3! Could I request like basic relationship headcanons with Kabru, Chilchuck, and Laios? If not that’s totally fine! Hope you have a good day! :D

You got it, boss!

Kabru of Utaya

I've covered this before in other posts, but his eye for details when it comes to people is going to be used on you. He has a internal list of things you love and things that you hate, and often references it over the course of the relationship.

The only way that he cleans his room is if you're coming over. He'll ask you to return with him on a whim, and then realizes that 'oh shit, I can't have them see this,' and once you get back, he tries to make a distraction, or just asks you to hang out in the hallway as he struggles to stuff all of the shit on the floor under every piece of furniture he can. His landlord finds this endlessly amusing, and knows when you're coming over because Kabru is frantically trying to clean - he helps to give Kabru some pointers.

Loves to surprise you with things you mention in passing, a necklace or bracelet that you saw in a nearby stall, taking you out to a fancy place that you mentioned wanting to go to dinner, or even just something that you need that he noticed. Stuff like a new whetstone, a repair for your armor, anything like that.

He's not the biggest on embraces, but this is a man who loves to cuddle when the two of you are in bed. He absolutely enjoys wrapping his hands around you, either having you curling into his neck, or with your back slotted neatly against him. He always plays with your hands, linking your fingers together. He actually gets to the point that he can't sleep easily unless he at least has some part of his body touching yours.

Cup his face before kissing him, stare into his eyes and tell him something along the lines of 'I love the color of your eyes' and just watch him melt. He used to be self-conscious and hate his eyes, though it's something he's outgrown over the years, but he still loves to hear it come from your lips.

Chilchuck Tims

His love language is admonishing you - sorry not sorry. He's very much the kind of person that if he is barking at you while patching you up, or while trying to help you, that he cares deeply about you. He yells because he cares, if he didn't, he wouldn't say a word.

Before you get into a relationship, he's absolutely going to bring up his past, at least in some capacity. Even if it's part of his sordid past, you deserve to know. He promises that he's changed, but he also knows that the only way to prove that is through his actions.

Speaking of, he does want you to meet his daughters. He's not ashamed of them - quite the opposite, he loves them dearly, and he doesn't want to feel like he's hiding them from you, or you from them. Though, there's not enough words in the common language to express how relieved he is when his daughters like you.

Even though he hates interpersonal relationships in groups, he also starts to outgrow that in bits and pieces. While on the job, he's going to be a bit more aloof, though he absolutely will indulge a handhold, and will only marginally shoo you away when you press a little peck to his cheek or temple.

Though, whenever you take breaks, he's definitely more receptive to any open displays of affection, and will even come to you to initiate. Especially if you're sitting, he'll come up to you and cup your face, making you look up at him - which is something that he loves way too much to be healthy. He's used to people looking down towards him, so being able to tip your head up? It's like a drug for him.

He knows that he's a walking space heater, and anticipates you setting your bedroll beside his own. He'll open up his blanket and grouse until you settle down, sighing out and finally snuggling up to you. Whether you like to be the big spoon or the little spoon, he enjoys the casual closeness. Though, his favorite is if you're bigger than him - being the big spoon, or more aptly, your jetpack.

Laios Touden

Being able to share meals made up of meal parts is a dream come true for him. He might pout occasionally if you are unsure about whatever y'all are eating. But, whenever he can, if there's something that you genuinely liked - then he's more than willing to share with you! I like to think that sharing food or cooking it with him is a love language of his.

If you're willing to listen to him constantly rambling about his hyperfixation on monsters, he'll continue on excitedly before he'll cut himself off, stumbling over his words and apologizing. Please - please, please, please, reassure him, even if you just tell him, 'I might not fully understand, but I just like listening to you.' You'll have his heart immediately, looking at you so softly and wrapping you up in a hug and thanking you. He knows sometimes he can get carried away, but knowing that you value his joy even if you don't fully agree, it warms his heart.

I like to think that rather than defaulting to kisses for showing affection, that he head bonks. You know how cats do the bunting? Yeah, that. He'll come up to you while you're doing something mundane and just bonk his head against yours. Sometimes it's a little too harsh, but that's just how much he loves you.

Above anything else, he wants you to meet his sister. While he may not be able to, nor want, to take you home to his parents - he does want you to meet the family that he cares about most. He'll share stories about Falin, things they did when they were younger, or when they were gold strippers, though sometimes he cuts himself off when he feels overwhelmed with what has happened to his sister.

He's a sprawler when he sleeps, usually on his back - pulls the full starfish. So, if you want to cuddle, you'll have to sleep in the crook of his arm, where he'll close his arm to bring you closer to him. Sleeping on the rise and fall of his chest, hearing his thumping heart skip a beat every time that you rest your head there. When he wakes up first, he can't find it in himself to wake you, craning his head awkwardly to watch your sleeping form with the softest smile on his face.

[dracaelus]

I have this hc that Bruce started letting his hair grow after his parents died. 

It wasn't a conscious choice; it's just that in the months following their deaths, no one remembered something as simple as his hair appointment. 

Then, Bruce kept seeing his photos all over the city—the photos they took of him the night his parents died, his face covered in blood and tears. Even worse, he saw the other pictures: the ones from back when his parents were alive, the ones where he was smiling at them, the ones where he looked happy. His uncle made sure the press didn't get a single picture of him after he saw the ones they took that night, so they kept posting "new" old pictures just to keep things fresh every time they talked about the Waynes — which they did a lot. Bruce looked at those photos and kept thinking to himself, 

"That's not me." 

He felt light-years away from the kid in the pictures. Bruce hadn't felt like himself since that night. He didn't know who he was now, but he wasn't him. In fact, he didn't even look like him. 

He couldn't remember the last time he smiled. He had bags under his eyes — the kind he'd only ever seen in grown-ups — because he kept having these stupid nightmares every time he tried to sleep. He didn't have his parents with him anymore. And his hair was longer, bc his mom wasn't there to notice and take him to her hairdresser. 

Everything changed. 

His entire life changed. 

And somewhere along the way, his hair became the only proof he had of this. 

So when someone, likely Alfred, finally realized how long his hair had gotten and tried to give him a haircut — to put it lightly, Bruce didn't take it well. He screamed and kicked and ran, and — most importantly — when they managed to cut a lock of his hair, he cried. He cried like he hadn't cried since that night. He sobbed so hard he almost threw up. 

So they let him keep his hair like that. 

And it kept growing. 

It was hard for him to explain why it was so important to him that his hair remained untouched. 

He didn't even care for it — he made no effort to take care of it and only bothered to brush it so it wouldn't look bad enough that someone would try to cut it again. 

It got even more neglected after he started on his journey around the world — there was no threat of anyone cutting it, so Bruce didn't have to worry about keeping it decent. 

When he met Minhkhoa, he was also wearing his hair long. At first, Khoa didn't think much about Bruce's hair, but after seeing how little effort he put into taking care of it, he asked why he didn't just cut it and keep it short.

Bruce's mistake was genuinely trying to explain. 

He talked about how it was a reminder of his parent's death and how part of him was disgusted by the idea of going back to how he was before they were gone. He told him how different and wrong he felt after their deaths and how the thing that scared him the most wasn't the idea that things would never get better, but rather the possibility of returning to how he was when they were still alive, as if their loss simply never happened. Worst of all, he talked about how in a sad way, his long hair reminded him of their absence because it showed no one was taking care of him. 

The tricky thing about his relationship with Khoa is that every once in a while, Bruce would say things about himself and unknowingly trigger a "self-recognition through the other" reaction in Khoa — something Khoa didn't like and almost always led to fighting. 

So they fought. 

Khoa responded to his vulnerability by saying a lot of mean things to Bruce, and then the fight got physical. 

Khoa went to a hairdresser that same day and got his hair cut — something he hadn't thought of doing since leaving home. He eventually learned to cut his hair himself and took special care of it, just to show Bruce how ridiculous he was for thinking he needed to let his hair grow messy and unkept just bc he didn't have a stupid adult to take care of it for him — unlike Bruce, Khoa was more than capable of taking care of himself without help from anyone.

He also tried to cut Bruce's hair in a fit of rage, but his rage wasn't quite as strong as Bruce's. He fought him like a demon, and the fight ended after Bruce bit him so hard it left a scar Khoa carried for many years after. 

Khoa didn't try cutting it again, but every once in a while, when they were at the same place and on good terms — a rarity — he would take care of Bruce's hair. He would untangle the thousands of knots, brush it out, wash and moisturize it until it looked good and felt nice to touch. As a show of trust (or guilt for the bite), Bruce sometimes let him trim the ends. Khoa did this mostly out of pettiness and as a strange and convoluted way of mocking Bruce for his irrationality — but deep down, it was also bc he cared for Bruce, and he could take care of him, couldn't he see that?

Bruce finally cut his hair before going back to Gotham. 

By then, years had passed since his parents' death, and he wasn't afraid anymore. He had made a decision, one that would tie him to them forever, and he didn't need his hair as proof of the transformation he had undergone. He knew what he had become now. 

He cut his hair in the same style he wore in his youth, and when he looked in the mirror, there were still no traces of the kid in those photos. 

He wasn't him anymore.

In fact, he didn't even look like him.

[generalllimaginesss]

"If the entire human population was in front of me, I'd still choose you” with Jack.

I can only imagine what it would be like to have fans attack you if you were publicly dating him. I feel like Jack is so conscious of this. And he’s just soft boyfriend Jack trying to block out the unnecessary noise.

Maybe they just went public and she’s getting a lot of hate and it’s making her insecure. And Jack reminds her that it’s just them against the world and the only people whose opinions matter are their family and friends who love her.

Warnings: self depreciation, insecurities, self image issues, etc. Please don't read if you're not in a good headspace!!!

This is probably my favorite thing that I’ve written. I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it!!

plus size! reader x Jack Hughes

••

You knew that dating somebody in the limelight would have its challenges. Hell, dating an average person was hard. But nothing could have prepared you for the magnitude of hate that hit as soon as Jack went public with your relationship.

It wasn't like the relationship was new. The two of you had been dating for almost a year before he decided to post you on his Instagram. You let Jack set the pace since he was used to the attention. He could let things go in one ear and out the other a lot easier than you could. He was almost conditioned to be able to do that. You, on the other hand, took everything very personally. Every comment about your weight, about what you wore, about how Jack looked miserable with you, they all hit you like a ton of bricks.

You didn't understand why all of these people were coming at you saying so many horrible things, but Jack tried his best to ease your mind and remind you that at the end of the day it was you and him.

He did a really good job at this normally, but he was away on a roadie for a few days and things began to get really bad. This started when you saw a fan account for Jack post something about how Jack downgraded from Sienna to you and all of the comments agreeing.

It was like a rabbit hole...once you clicked on that post it led you to many others. They all made you feel like shit, but when people started commenting on your body, saying that they "didn't know Jack dated plus size girls," it hurt. Your body was yours. It wasn't like you could just zip it off and find a new one, but if you could you would, just to shut the comments up.

You spent the 3 days Jack was gone in a really dark depression. No laundry was done, you hadn't showered, and you barely could make yourself get out of bed to brush your teeth. Dishes piled in the sink, but you couldn't make yourself do them. You knew the signs of your depression, but you welcomed them in a way, almost like a coping mechanism. Not allowing people to see you was the only way the haters couldn't get new material. Was it a healthy way to cope? Obviously not, but it was what worked in the moment.

As soon as Jack walked through the front door, returning from the games, he could tell something wasn't right. You always kept up with the chores when he was away, normally making the house spotless before he got back. So when he saw the state of the kitchen and eventually the rest of the house, he knew something was off.

When he walked into the bedroom and saw that you were pretty much in the same spot he left you in he immediately dropped his bags and climbed into the bed with you, forcing you to look at him.

He gently shifted your body to face him, cupping your cheek gently with his hand.

"Baby, what happened," He made note of the streaks that stained your face, probably from countless hours of crying. He wanted to make them disappear immediately. You were his happy-go-lucky, carefree girl. You danced around the house all the time, singing whatever song was playing. This side of you was uncharted territory that he wanted to take away so bad.

"I just need you to hold me," You began to hyperventilate, worried that if he didn't hold you that he would leave you. Even though that would never in a million years cross his mind. But he did as you asked, and whether it was for 5 minutes or 30 minutes, he didn't know. He held you until you pulled away.

"Can we talk about it?" Jack asked, pulling the hair that crusted on your cheek from the tears out of your face. He treated you like you were fragile, and you hated that he felt that way.

"It's just the comments, Jack. I'm already insecure sometimes and these people come at me in so many horrible ways," You began to explain, loose tears streaming down your face, but you were composed otherwise.

"They compare me to Sienna, and God, I know I'm not as pretty as her. They tell me I'm fat and that they didn't know you dated "fat" girls. It's just insane. Do they not realize that I actually am a real person with real emotions? Do they know that I've believed, at some point in time, the things they are saying? I've worked so hard to get to this place where I'm at, to love who I am, and within the span of 3 days they just tear it all down," You let the words just flow from your mouth, whatever thought that comes to mind is voiced to Jack.

"Baby, they don't care. They don't care because they're jealous," He tries to soothe you, but it almost made you mad. Not at Jack, but at the whole situation.

"What the fuck are they jealous of? My thighs that I cover with leggings and pants so that I won't have to go through the pain of them chafing? Are they jealous of the fucking stretch marks that go up my stomach, so I refuse to wear regular bikini bottoms? I mean what the fuck, do they want my anxiety and depression? I will gladly give them that..." The tears were beginning to pick up, but Jack continued to rub your back, waiting to get the chance to speak again.

"I know you could have any girl you wanted. It makes me sick when I see some blonde walk past that looks like she stepped out of a magazine because I know that's what you deserve. You don't deserve this. You're Jack fucking Hughes," You looked at him, your lip quivering. You were going to say something else, but Jack put his finger on your lips, gently stopping you from continuing.

"You gotta stop that. I can't let you keep putting yourself down like this, not when I love you with my whole fucking heart," He began.

"First off, I had that. I had whatever you consider a girl walking out of a magazine is. Look how that turned out. It didn't, did it? You don't look like Sienna, and I'm so fucking glad because I don't want her kind of beautiful. I want your kind. I want to see all of the things on your body that show me that you lived. I don't want some manufactured cookie-cutter girlfriend. I want somebody that nobody else has," He pulled you in for a hug, continuing to talk while placing kisses ever so gently on your cheek and neck, looking out the window at the busyness that was the outside world. All he could think about was how you didn't see what he saw. Why couldn't you see it?

"Baby, I want you to realize something. If the entire human population was in front of me, I'd still choose you. Without a second thought, with no regrets. Every. Single. Time. You have such a special relationship with my brothers and that means the absolute world to me. They love you so much. My parents tell me I should marry you anytime that you come up in the conversation. The entire team has commented on how much happier I am with you. And if I'm being completely honest, at the end of the day I don't give a damn what anybody else has to say because it's me and you until the end. Do you understand me?" He broke the hug, cupping your face with both hands and wiping at the tears with his thumbs.

"I love you," You whisper, your voice long gone by now.

Jack pulls your forehead toward his lips, kissing it for a few seconds before letting your head go.

"I love you, too. More than you, or anybody else, will ever know. Now, I think we could go for some cleaning karaoke, yeah? I'll wash the dishes if you'll dry them," He poked at your side, trying, and succeeding, in forcing a grin on your face.

"Only if we can get a shower together afterwards," You bargained, taking in the beautiful boy.

"Deal," He says and drags you off to the kitchen, connecting his phone the the speaker and blaring Dierks Bentley's new song "Beer at My Funeral," occasionally twirling you in a circle.

The water may or may not have gotten everywhere since Jack decided it was a good idea to spray you with the hose that connected to the sink, but he enjoyed every second that he got chased by you around the island.

Once the dishes were put up and the shower washed away the remaining bit of your depression, Jack couldn't help but to just admire you. He promised himself then that he would remind you so often of how beautiful you were so that would be the only words ringing through your head, taking up any space that the hate may have. Because it was true. You were the most beautiful and precious thing that had ever walked into his life, and he'd be damned if anyone made you feel otherwise.

*

*

*

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[videolaa]

A New Years Kiss: Minho

Hello, long time no see. Happy New Year. Please enjoy this unedited, extremely poorly written one-shot. From a tired, hungover writer. As always, all rights go to videolaa. You are not allowed to discredit my work, I don't post anywhere else unless stated by me.

You batted your eyes, trying to adjust to the lighting in the room. What would have been distant sounds from the kitchen sounded like loud bangs from your newfound hangover. As your vision cleared enough, your eyes widened, realizing that wasn't your bedroom door. This wasn't your bedroom, your sheets, none of it.

An arm tossed itself over your side, making you tense at the feeling onto your bare skin.

Slowly turning to find Minho, sound asleep next to you, shirtless. There was a hard gulp in your throat, trying to process everything that happened, as you tried to piece the puzzle of last night together. A part of you wanted to wake Minho up and ask what happened, but he looked so at peace that you couldn't pull yourself to do it.

With a deep breath, you closed your eyes, trying to remember everything.

You and your friends decided to go out for a few drinks and watch the countdown. While everyone discussed who's car was taking who to where, you went to get ready. It was new years after all, might as well dress up a bit.

Hyunjin poked fun at you from the drivers seat about Minho, possibly showing up, which made you want to dress up. He wasn't entirely wrong. You did like Minho. He was built, handsome, and he had a beautiful smile that sometimes resembled a bunny. He knew how to make you laugh, especially on days when you felt like crying. Some people said he seemed cold or distant, only they didn't know how caring, funny, and soft Minho was. So maybe you did dress up to see if he would notice yet enough to still blend in for the evening.

He showed up and stuck to the guys and you like you. Slick shots, chasers, and mixing drinks began to swirl with your thoughts. At one point, Seungmin teased you both about not having anyone to kiss at midnight. Remembering you were ready to fire back a comment until Minho raised an eyebrow with a smirk looking at you. "Your alcohol is talking," you pointed out. Minho shrugged, "Mine doesn't have me turning red. Well, how 'bout it. Be my midnight kiss?".

It's just a kiss. He was consenting to it, "Okay. I'll be your midnight kiss." At the twenty-second mark, take a shot for courage.

"10" his eyes went between your lips and eyes, double checking if you were positive with this.

"9" you nodded your head before both of looked at the screen like everyone else.

"8" an arm rested on your back.

"7" the world was quiet.

"6" both of you were leaning in with your hands snaking around his shoulders.

"5" Both of you closed your eyes, and leaned in.

That was all you could remember, not even the cheering. You rubbed your temple, embarrassed by last nights actions. One kiss shouldn't have led to waking up in his bed.

"He's gonna think I'm easy" you mumbled as quietly as possible. You liked him, maybe someone mentioned it and he used it to his advantage - especially adding alcohol into the mix...

With as much strength as you could muster you swung your legs off his bed, trying to slip away in order to get to your trail of close.

Freezing as you heard a tired groan, with a cat like stretch, "Leaving?"

"Yeah," you felt self-conscious now that you were sober, still bare in front of the guy you liked. You wouldn't be surprised if your makeup was smeared across your face. "Give me a minute, and I'll take you home" his voice raspy as he went to leave his bed. "I can call Hyunjin..."

"I'm sorry about... everything," he mumbled. "Don't be, we're both at fault" The air felt unfinished, as if more was supposed to be said, but neither of you could find the right words. "Tell me, do you remember last night?" you asked, quickly pulling your shirt over your head. "Everything got blurry a little after we kissed."

"Was it bad?" Your fingers quickly scrolling to your best friend's contact.

"No, and I don't think the rest was either," his ears were turning pink, causing you to giggle, seeing that thankfully, neither of you remember coming back. "I do remember a certain someone liked having her hands in my hair," he laughed, causing the heat to rise to your face, hitting the call button, your heart leaping to your throat. "I didn't mean -"

"Don't worry, I liked it"

"What?" You stared in disbelief. That did not just come out of his mouth, which had a mischievous smile forming, "I said, I liked it."

Your face was burning, so visible it had Minho shrugging on a pair of sweats as he came over, cupping your face, "You're so red,"

"So are your ears," you shot back. Then he did it again, eyes flickering from your eyes to your mouth. Only his eyes were softer, sober, a soft hello being heard from your phone, repeatedly. "Shit! Hello, sorry"

"You call and don't say anything? Do you want me to have a heart attack?" Hyunjin screamed, bringing throbbing of your head hit you harder than before. "Don't be dramatic, I don't want you to have a heart attack. I was going to ask what you were doing right now -" an echo of vomit, followed by the sound of flushing, was heard in the background. "Are you sick?" Minho raised an eyebrow at the question.

"It comes and goes, last night really-" Hyunjin's body cut him off again, the mere sound was enough to make you feel queasy. "Hello? Is someone there with you?" your voice switched to concern. Only relief you got was Changbin answering, "I got him. He'll be fine. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I was just trying to check in" you explain.

"And that she has a ride home!" Minho said closer to the phone. "Can you take care of him?" you asked before Hyunjin mumbled something, "Yeah I can do that - she's fine, you two can talk about it later! Minho has her, she's fine! (Y/n) can you call him later?" Changbin huffed. "Yes I promise," you sighed with a slight laughter before hanging up, placing your phone in your back pocket.

"Did that kill the mood?" The feeling of guilt, seeing how close Minho was standing. "Not entirely - could have gone without hearing him sick," he scoffed, but you agreed.

Minho lifted his hand back up to your cheek, "I might though," you stated as his hand froze, letting you continue. "I know last night wasn't planned, and maybe a mistake, but I don't do friends with benefits. So if you want that I can't do that. Plus I really like you I'm not putting myself in a situation like -" you were explaining only to be cut off by a pair of lips.

Shock ran through you at the feeling of his lips on yours. You couldn't help but lean into it yourself. Shutting your eyes, sparks flew across your eyelids. Your hands flew to the back of his neck, Minho pulled away, resting his forehead against your shoulder, "I don't who you believe in but, thank God. I've had liked you for such a long time"

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah, a couple people figured it out. Then last night happened and... I didn't plan on taking you home. I wanted to kiss you, but I planned on asking you out on a date" Minho dumped his confession, leaving you speechless.

This gorgeous man, who could have anyone he wanted, who seemed so far out of your league, wanted you? The new year barely started, but the last 24 hours definitely were not expected.

All you could do was laugh, and kiss him again. "We don't have to do anything but come back to bed? I'll put a movie on and we can just -"

"Lay there?" you finished his sentence.

"Or sleep off two hangovers" he joked.

"I would love that." Minho pulled you back to the mattress at your answer.

"Happy new year Minho"

"Same to you, too (Y/n). Lets make it a good one"

[zylphiacrowley]

Then v Now

Tagged by @sailor-artemis @gatheredfates and @disaster-husbun Thank you friends~! ♥

I will tag uhhhhh..... @golmorehotgirl @lilas @this-is-ris @e-nishka-aosh and @stalwart-spirit

^ 12/2020 (apparently?) || 12/2024 v

So uhhhhh... storytime I guess.

A long time ago (I think this would've been when StB or maybe even HW was current) I bought a prebuilt "gaming" PC (mistake). To test it's capabilities I decided I would run the benchmark for whatever expansion was current at that time (don't ask me why this was my first train of thought, I don't claim to know the inner workings of my own mind)... it failed. Like miserably. Like if the bench could audibly laugh at me I think it would've. No matter, I hate MMOs and didn't plan to play it anyway, I just wanted to test it. I went on my merry way with my shitass "gaming" PC (that didn't last long anyway because it really was just a glorified paperweight).

Several years (and a new custom built PC) later, I was scrolling tumblr, as you do, and I kept seeing this red haired catboy and I was like "I don't know who this catboy is, but I wish only the best for him" then I found out that he was from XIV and that XIV had a "Free trial up to level 60 including the award winning expansion, Heavensward", so I was like, "Eh, I should try out the benchmark again see if I can run it. Also I enjoy a good character creator so I'll make a character give it a go and probably stop once I finish all the free content." Oh..... oh you sweet summer child... Anyway because I was not seriously considering playing this game for the long run, I was like "heehee I make an old catman because old man protag is unusual for SE game so is a bit sillay." I ran him all the way through ARR with people calling him "lad" and "boy" before I decided I couldn't stand it anymore and I spent my free fantasia to shoot him with the lazerbeam of youth. Woe, youth be upon ye catboy.

Now, did I need a friend to pretty much hold my hand all through ARR and HW because I was literally shaking with anxiety every time I queued for literally any content in the game? ...................I mean, yeah (thank you for being patient with me Lambs, as I made you run a bby sprout through probably mind-numbingly boring content for you at the time). But look at me now! I can queue as a DPS without crying the whole time I'm sitting in queue! Progress babeeeeeeeee!

It wasn't until this year (or late last year, I forget) that I actually got up the courage to start posting more stuff about my catboy (and my ship... especially my ship I still get sort of self-conscious about posting ship stuff but I enjoy it so I keep doing it anyway) and through doing so I've met soooooooo many wonderful friends in the community! I love seeing and learning about other people's WoLs, OCs, and ships, so I have been thriving getting to know everyone!

It has been an honor getting to share fandom space with so many fantastic people! I hope in 2025 I get to know even more about everyone's characters, and maybe even meet new people!

[avatar-anna]

The Final Show

this is the first of a few oneshots i'm doing of harry's final show(s). currently working on ones for professor and latina!y/n, but those will come later. enjoy!

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader

"What are you doing over there?"

Y/n had been looking for her husband for the last fifteen minutes. Rehearsals were wrapped up a while ago, the sounds of fans waiting to enter the venue were echoing through certain hallways, and everyone had kind of scattered to their own corners before it was time to really start getting ready. Y/n had taken advantage of the downtime to put Natalia and Geneva down for a nap and feed her other children, and now that the twins were playing with their toys, and Simone and Collette were watching a movie with Jeff, she took it upon herself to look for Harry, who had quietly disappeared without anyone noticing.

She'd checked out all his usual hiding places—the kids' dressing room/playroom, craft services, his own dressing room—but he was nowhere to be found. Y/n wasn't even going to check the stage, but she'd heard noise coming from an open door and decided to follow it.

Harry was sitting by himself at a piano, playing a melody Y/n hadn't heard before. He didn't play the piano often, as he wasn't as confident in his ability to play as he was with the guitar. Even after all these years, he still got self-conscious playing in front of people, especially new material. Y/n knew he had no reason to be shy about playing any kind of instrument or showing off a new song, but she made her presence known to him before approaching anyway, giving her husband time to pause and collect himself.

"Just messing around," he said. Turning his head, Harry smiled, then opened his arms up toward her.

Y/n took the invitation and sat down in his lap, her arms immediately reaching around his neck to play with his hair. "You ready for tonight?" she asked, leaving the topic of the piano alone. For now. He'd open up to her eventually.

"Think so," Harry said. "I'm excited to come home and spend some real time with you and the kids, but..."

"I get it. It's okay to miss this," she told him, running the back of her knuckle against his cheekbone.

Their lives were so polarizing at times, and Y/n understood his mixed emotions about the end of the tour better than anybody. She knew how much Harry loved performing and traveling and creating such unique memories with his band and crew and fans, especially the fans. But he loved his family too, and while it was nice to have the kids on tour, it was a completely different thing to be a proper parent at home, and Y/n would be lying if she said she wasn't looking forward to being a semi-normal family again.

"It's gonna be an emotional night, that's for sure," Harry concluded, leaning forward to kiss Y/n's cheek. "Got lots of fun stuff planned."

"I can't wait."

And, just because they were alone and she could, Y/n leaned in, hand tightening in the back of his hair as her mouth slid over his.

The kiss was long and slow, languid and easy, so unlike the hurried pecks they gave each other when they were running around doing a million different things. It made Y/n melt against Harry's chest, had him gripping her hips a little tighter.

"I'm gonna miss it too, you know," Y/n said, mumbling the words against the scruff on his jaw.

"Are you?" Harry asked, half teasing, half serious.

Y/n took her time answering, kissing his neck and around his ear first before going back to take his bottom lip between her teeth. "Of course. You know I love watching you perform. And I love traveling and showing the kids all sorts of things. And I love your post-performance adrenaline rush."

Harry chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind Y/n's ear. "Oh. So that's what you're going to miss."

"Among other things," she said with a playful shrug.

One thing Y/n could count on was the last of Harry's energy being spent totally on her. Whether it was the moment he stepped offstage and he dragged her into his dressing room for a quickie, or late at night once all six of their children were asleep, he always worked himself up enough during his shows that he had to dispel his adrenaline somehow, and that was usually with his wife. And after hours of being a mom and changing diapers and putting a stop to fights and making sure everyone ate their veggies and no one had strayed too far away, she loved being the center of Harry's attention. When he had a good show, she had a good night, when he had an excellent show...well, Y/n was usually left feeling like she'd been the one performing for hours.

Pulling her impossibly closer, he said, "I'll just have to find another way to satisfy you, then."

"You always do."

When they kissed again, Y/n's heart fluttered in her chest, excitement from a multitude of things putting her in a good mood. And she could tell Harry felt the same, his hands eagerly gripping what they could, just stopping short of reaching beneath her clothes.

"I think I'm gonna play something special tonight," he muttered against her lips after a few minutes passed.

Y/n nearly grinned at how well she knew her husband. She managed to contain it and pull back just enough to say, "Oh?"

Harry shrugged and tried to be casual, but his words were anything but. "I've had this melody playing in the back of my mind all day."

"You should play it then. I think everyone will love it," Y/n said, pushing a stray curl out of his eyes.

The corners of Harry's mouth curved up, dimples indenting his cheeks. "I think tonight is gonna be one for the history books."

Y/n smiled at him endearingly as she couldn't help but agree.

*.*

"I have people here tonight who have supported me in so many ways over the past thirteen years in which you can only imagine. I would not be on this stage without them and their love and support," Harry said into the mic.

For a moment, his eyes darted to the side of the stage where Y/n was holding a sleeping baby in her arms. Simone was standing next to her and cheering, with Collette on Simone's other side and waving at Harry with a big grin. The twins were on Y/n's other side, and GiGi was standing tiredly on her feet, a large set of noise-cancelling headphones on her head. One little hand was gripping Y/n's finger, though by the quick look Harry took, she was not a happy camper.

She wants you, Y/n mouthed with a shrug. Harry's heart squeezed for a moment, then quickly blew Geneva a kiss before continuing his speech.

The concert continued on, and Harry performed his heart out. Y/n watched from the side of the stage with Natalia in her arms, occasionally spinning Jules and Maeve around or dancing with Simone and Collette. It was technically past their bedtime, but Y/n decided that tonight was a special occasion. They would be home soon and back to their normal schedule anyway. What was one night of fun?

Harry kept looking over to where she and the kids were, and each time she gave him a thumbs up or blew him a kiss while the twins, Simone, and Collette waved at him excitedly and shouted, "Daddy!" GiGi was still in a bit of a mood, not quite understanding why she couldn't go to Harry when he was so close, but then again, she was turning out to be a bit of a daddy's girl, so Y/n wasn't all that surprised.

There was one point toward the end of the show where Harry became so overcome with emotions that he sank to his knees. Y/n didn't have to be a mind reader to know what was going through his head. It had been a very emotional few years, more than any of his fans would be able to understand. They'd gone through a lot—as parents and as partners—but everything they'd endured and sacrificed and experienced had led right to this moment. Y/n knew that this tour itself contained some of the happiest moments of Harry's life simply because of the environment and the energy created by his fans, but she also knew that having his family close by for a majority of it, and knowing that they were on the other side of a lot of the obstacles they'd previously been facing, played a part in that joy too.

A strong wave of emotion took over Y/n then too, making her throat go tight and her eyes well with tears. No one in the crowd except a select few would truly understand exactly what Harry meant when he talked about family and support. He truly would not be the same person he was today if it weren't for the seven people off to the side of the stage. Just a couple years ago, their lives were so different, there were so many unknowns, but right now, everything seemed to be perfect, and Y/n understood Harry more than anyone when he expressed that he wasn't quite ready to let it all go.

Caught up in her own emotions, Y/n noticed too late that Geneva had slipped her hand out of Y/n's. Before she could even utter a word, the two year old was running straight for Harry, who was still kneeling onstage with his hands covering his face.

For a moment, Y/n's heart stopped. This wasn't how this was meant to happen. It wasn't supposed to happen at all. Harry, Y/n, and Harry's team had been so careful about keeping their children's identity safe, out of the public eye. Things were slowly starting to change with Y/n going with Harry to the Grammys, and the documentary that was set to release a few months after Love on Tour ended would definitely bring their family out into the public. But those were all carefully selected events. GiGi running out onstage while one hundred thousand people, and possibly more, were watching was not part of the plan.

Y/n watched the scene unfold before her with slight terror and a boatload of anxiety swelling in her chest. She wasn't sure if Harry was too lost in his own head to notice his daughter run up to him or if she'd start crying as the screams from the crowd increased tenfold.

Thankfully, Harry's reaction was immediate. He looked surprised, like he couldn't quite believe Geneva was suddenly next to him onstage at his show. One look at Y/n's face seemed to tell him everything, though, and his smile was surprisingly relaxed for someone whose daughter the world didn't know about just ran out onstage.

*.*

"Hi, peanut. What are you doing out here, huh?" Harry asked, kissing Geneva's forehead gently, keeping his voice soft as he spoke to her. He was sort of freaking out on the inside, but he tried not to show it, seeing as Y/n was already visibly worried about the situation at hand.

"Home, Daddy," she said, her chubby baby cheeks making her pout all the more adorable.

"You ready for bed, my love?"

GiGi nodded, then promptly rested her head against his chest, making it clear she didn't want to be anywhere else at the moment. And part of Harry didn't want to hand her off to anyone else. He loved it when any of his kids came to him for comfort. It made him feel so fulfilled when all any of them wanted was a cuddle from Dad.

But at the same time, he still had a show to put on. In a split second, an idea formed in Harry's head, and all it took was one look to his band for them to catch his meaning. They started to play a melody, an early transition into the next song while he took care of Geneva.

As he stood up, Harry was careful to turn his back to the crowd so that as little of his daughter's face was shown to the crowd as possible. He trusted the camera team to focus themselves anywhere else but him right now, but that didn't account for the thousands of phones most likely pointed in his and Geneva's direction; though, as he paid a little more attention, he realized that the crowd was quiet, like they could tell that the baby in his arms was trying to sleep and didn't want to disturb her.

That thought brought a smile to Harry's face as he stepped offstage where Y/n was trying to position Natalia so she could hold GiGi too. When he reached her, Harry rested a hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek. "Relax, Mama. I've got her."

"I'm so sorry, H. She took off so fast, and I—"

"It's okay. I promise," Harry said. "She asleep yet?"

Y/n looked at where Geneva's cheek squished against her dad's chest. "Getting there."

"Five minutes, then," Harry said simply, trying to relax Y/n, who still looked terrified. Leaning in, he murmured so that only she could hear. "It's okay, Mama. We'll figure it out after. Let's just enjoy tonight, yeah? Think of the post-performance adrenaline, hm?"

That got Y/n to smile and nod slightly. He waited until the tension in her shoulders eased, then looked at the rest of his family, who also looked a little surprised that Geneva ran onstage in the middle of the show. Julian was the first to recover his shock and launched himself at Harry, which caused Maeve to jump up and down around him.

"Did you see us, Daddy? We were dancing to your song!"

"I did, JuJu. You were so good!"

"What about me, Daddy?"

"Can I go onstage too?"

"I want to play music with Pauli!"

Harry sighed, knowing they couldn't go out onstage. He could only imagine how fun—and chaotic—that would be, but it was still important that his little family stayed safe and unknown to the public.

"You know what, Maevie? I think we should let Pauli focus on the show, but maybe you can play music with him tomorrow," Y/n said gently, running a finger along Maeve's cheek.

It was clear Maeve didn't love that idea, and Harry was worried that she was going to pitch a fit or start crying, but Simone walked over to her sister. "We can play band right here, Maevie. You can be Pauli, and JuJu can be Uncle Mitch and Collette can be Auntie Sarah and play the drums."

Harry couldn't have loved his oldest daughter more than he did right then. She was always so good with her brother and sisters, even though they were a lot younger than her. He gave Y/n a look, who had passed Natalia off to Glenne, who had shown up with Jeff backstage after the whole toddler-running-onstage incident. Y/n smiled and reached for Geneva again, but not before giving him a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze to the hand.

"Go. Your fans are waiting for you."

Harry passed Geneva to Y/n, almost a little reluctantly, even though he knew he had to get back out there, that the five minutes he allowed himself were almost up. Almost like she could see the hesitancy on his face, Y/n leaned in one more time. "Go, baby. That post-performance adrenaline isn't going to make itself, and I want to celebrate tonight."

That was enough for him to finally hand over Geneva. Grinning, he kissed Y/n, then kissed the heads of each of his kids. Harry shook his head and his hands, trying to get back into his performance headspace, trying to forget about the fact that his daughter just revealed herself to the public. All of that could be dealt with after the show. Right now, there was a crowd waiting for him to give them the finale they deserved, and Harry would be damned if he didn't give it to them.

[randomfoggytiger]

Mulder's Alien Baby Baby Trauma In-Depth (Part XIX): For Whom the Phone Calls, and a New Beginning

Mulder's resignation.

It's hard to tackle this subject because Requiem's lingering shadow casts a long, gray, and confuddled interpretation (or lack thereof, post here) over the whole. In the Bellefleur motel, he tells Scully "There's so much more you need to do with your life"/"There's so much more than this" on the heels of the FBI's clenching jaw and her sudden illness. But how much of that statement is spurred on by her health and losses; and how much is born from Mulder's own desire to leave the conspiracy behind, closure in tact, and chase a better work-life balance with Scully?

As previously explored in this series, Mulder wasn't ranting and raving to get back on the files after his resurrection-- only jumping at the chance when he misconstrued Doggett's intentions (post here)-- and he wasn't ranting and raving to help Monica Reyes on her own x-files investigation until she pleaded for his help (post here.) In Vienen, he sent the Galpex oil rig files to Doggett first and only forced himself onto the mission (feeling miffed and betrayed, post here) when the other agent didn't care to look into the case. In Alone, he told Scully "You paid your dues there, Scully-- more than paid them." And he meant it: in that episode and in Essence, he only got involved to help (or protect) his partner. Mulder was going through the X-Files motions without truly putting his heart into it. But yet, he was torn up about leaving. Aye, that's the rub-- at what point did Mulder know he had to walk away, or perhaps even wanted to? Is it conscious or unconscious: something he wants, or something he knows will happen, period? What is desire and what is instinct? What is self-preservation and what is inclination?

This topic, I've decided, has to largely be set aside. We won't have answers in this post; but I do think we will, eventually (in Alone at least.) Or as close to answers as the show's lack of "domestication" will allow. Until that time, we press on.

THE CLOSING OF AN OLD CHAPTER

In the seven-year journey to closure, Mulder and Scully forged a partnership together: opening old wounds in order to air and clean them, supporting each other in times of love and crisis. He stood by her side during her cancer and she cut open his mother for his sake. Then he found Samantha and she spoke to god-- key parts in their paths to separate wholeness, necessary for their complete healing.

Then he was taken, swallowed up by aliens; then she took up his mantle and headed the files in his stead. Scully grew into a woman of diamond, impervious to the scratches of others (post here); and Mulder into a man who was forced to recognize his own limitations. She knew her time on the files was closing, and hoped to find Mulder beforehand-- and succeeded, and failed; and mourned and moved on (post here.) He was returned, blinking and afraid in the light of this new life-- not just the one that moved on without him, but the one that needed him. After almost dying (again) and seeing his own partner on the (possible) brink of death herself, and witnessing the aftermath of that great and tragic loss (via John Doggett's pain), Mulder decided not to have any regrets and openly showed his partner that he had embraced their child.

And then, Vienen. And then his fears were becoming realized ("When he's old enough, tell the kid I went down swinging.") This-- where he now fits in-- wasn't just about him and "the truth" anymore. He "needed" to be out there, but his baby (and Scully) needed him to be here, wherever 'here' was to this coming child.

And finally, between jumping in terror from a burning oil rig (post here) and flying back to the wrath of fire-breathing Kersh, a decision was formed: Mulder would take the fall; and hope against hope that his gamble-- and new dependence on Doggett-- would pay off.

It's about time, too: Mulder craves simplicity, normalcy-- air freely breathed without lies to taint it. Truth without danger. An idealist at heart, he recalls old memories and halcyon days through rose-colored glasses, confessing in Home, "...This brings back a lot of memories. My sister... all day pick-up games out on the vineyard, ride your bikes down to the beach, eat bologna sandwiches. Only place you had to be on time was home for dinner. Never had to lock your doors. No modems, no faxes, no cell phones.... You know, my work demands that I live in a big city, but if I had to settle down, build a home... be a place like this."

But Mulder is also a man who tied himself to his quest. In the name of his mission, he set aside "a normal life" to find his sister; then to expose the truth; then to atone for his father's sins; then to atone for "failing" his mother. At last, Samantha's closure set him free; and the FBI's new restrictions and Scully's sudden illness made him reconsider their (or her, or his) life on the files. Since his resurrection, however, those thoughts were set aside as PTSD bloomed to the surface and heavy topics had to be processed and dangerous quests "had" to be recklessly pursued.

But now... now he has a kid on the way; and that kid cannot become another failure on his part, albatross weighing him down with regret.

RESIGNATION

Doggett arrives back at the basement, finding Mulder once again in the office: full circle-- the same players discussing the same case. But this time, there are prices to be had and consequences to pay. 

Mulder is lounging in Scully’s old area-- a purposeful placement, the former head now straying away from his place at the desk-- feet propped up on her station and staring hard at the wall when his replacement barrels in, unaware of his presence. “Where’s the fire, Agent Doggett?”

“I’ve been called up to see Deputy Director Kersh-- as have Agent Scully and A.D. Skinner. I think it’s hitting the fan,” Doggett informs him, harried and rushed. 

“You mean with Galpex Oil?” He rises, shoulders sagging and posture slumped. His face is etched with a wearied emotion-- resignation. Perhaps depression. 

“Word came down that Galpex has lost the right to drill that entire Texas oil province.”

“That oil should stay right where it is.” 

“You should do everything in your power to make sure that it does,” Mulder adds, approaching through the shadows as his feelings melt into resolve.

“...Me?” Doggett parrots, cautiously, none the wiser at the other’s affirmative nod. 

The phone rings, like before (post here); and this time, Mulder doesn’t hide that he knows who it is. “That is the Deputy Director calling to tell you there is no need to see you,” he informs, without pretense-- voice clear and almost light. He’s made a decision-- one that he’s certain, in better moments, will be the right one.

Sensing something afoot, John Doggett listens, expression hawkish in anticipation.  

“That the blame,” Mulder continues as the ring tone drones on, “has been properly assigned for what happened out there on that platform.” 

Fiddling with his fingers, keeping his head down and eyes averted, Mulder turns away and walks to the front of the desk. “I’m out,” he confesses, lips pursed as he grabs his coat for the last time. “86’d, Agent Doggett.” 

He keeps his eyes down: humbled, swallowing the sting of humiliation.

“What do you mean?” Doggett says, at rigid, bewildered attention. Tilting forward, disbelieving, he realizes, “You’re out of the FBI?”

Coat on, Mulder mutedly drawls, “Kersh could barely contain his happiness when he….” Smacking one hand against the other, scrambling for words, his shoulders shrug off the blow. “...Stuck it to me," he adds, talking past the blockage in his throat.

Finally, the ex-files member looks up, grim, letting Agent Doggett fill in the blanks.

Smart man that he is, John Doggett deduces the truth. “So you’re taking a fall?” he pinpoints softly. 

Unable to deny it, Mulder tries to shrug it off as no big deal-- head flicking away, mouth pulled into a careless ‘well, you know’ expression. 

“Not for me?” Doggett begins-- he will not let a good man take the fall in his name. 

Mulder reveals he'd predicted this reaction-- he now knows his "replacement"'s character-- by rushing in and barreling over Doggett's objections with iron determination. “For you, for the X-Files-- you’re all the credibility this office has left. You have Kersh’s ear and you have seen it now. Out on that platform. You saw it for yourself.” 

His expression is wounded and determined: a sentence unto death has been passed, but like any true seeker he must be sure another searcher will continue to hunt for the truth. This man is his only hope-- perhaps Doggett’s temperament, his particular ability to move through the world, can do the good under Kersh that he, Mulder, won’t be able to do. 

Mulder's singular "you're" also stands out. It implies what his partner will confirm in the next episode: Scully won’t be coming back. Their time together on the files has drawn to a close. As previously discussed (here and here): while the FBI is a considerably safer career than most, the X-Files department is not. Mulder can no longer take the chances he's done in the past and risk not coming home; and he takes that lesson to heart... so much so that he steers Scully away from the files, too, when she sneaks back to help Doggett.  As much as this departure pains him, Mulder can walk away in good conscience: Agent Doggett has proved his integrity and his ability to follow the truth to its conclusion. “You saw it for yourself” is a way of acknowledging that he knows the other is a changed man, just as he was changed years and years ago by his own first encounters. He trusts and believes in Doggett. Moreover, he needs him there to do the work. 

The two men stare at each other, reading the honor and finality of the moment. 

THE DAWN OF A NEW DAY

And this is when everything clicks for Fox Mulder: one second, he's dejectedly mulling over his expulsion from the FBI, and the next... the phone rings again.

Mulder shades his eyes briefly, contemplating-- 

--then suppresses a smile and tilts his head from Doggett to the desk.

In that split second, something changed: he decided to trust that the files would be in safe hands; and let go.

"Answer the phone, Agent Doggett. You’re in charge here now." Leaning forward, he offers a handshake (his first)-- a gesture to repair what Doggett endeavored to build (post here.)

There's a last flash of stark emotion-- reality setting in during the act of verbalization-- that creeps into Mulder’s eyes: pain rising over impending loss, resolution firming in the face of change. Doggett sees this; and, moved, responds in kind, clasping his hand firmly in kinship. 

As the ringtone echoes on, Agent Mulder slips out the door, arms swinging stiffly behind him. His sister's picture stays behind with his reluctant replacement-- a beacon to help guide the next wandering, lost, and lonely soul. 

And as he disappears, we are left with one thought: Mulder, despite all odds, seems content. Not happy, perhaps; but not unhappy, either. Readjusting, surely; but as quietly and carefully as a rower might over a calm, unbroken lake. Easing into a new future, peacefully. Mulder is waking to a dream come true-- abduction, PTSD, and resignation notwithstanding.

Fox Mulder is getting his happy ending.

Or so he believes.

CONCLUSION

The sun has set on Mulder's reign.

What does this mean for him? A long spiral? Peaceful contentment? Despair over losing the past ten years? Excitement for the future? A combination of everything, or something else entirely?

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[cherry-bomb-ships]

Wanted to get some creative flow going while staying low-effort, so here's a screenshot redraw/edit/whatever you wanna call it, because I was curious how Mojo would look in the show with all my headcanons and little flourishes that I add when I draw him -w- So here's my redraw and the original screenshot, plus a version wif his OG palette since the lighting in the scene I decided to redo is all reddish

[Any reblogs and comments are seen and appreciated!! 🥺🥺 Also click for higher quality. Under the cut I put some of my thought process on my changes ehe ❤]

So the first thing I have to mention is one of my favorite changes: that little chip out of his ear! I mean, it's not a lot to explain if you just think about it for a second. This poor chimp has taken a LOT of beatings over the years, there's no way that he wouldn't have some physical scars from all that, so I figured the best shorthand way to show that would be giving him that notch. I like to imagine that he's self-conscious about it too 🥺

Second most notable change, I always like giving him a little tooth poking out because I watched a lot of anime as a teen Because with those sharp teeth of his, the idea of one poking out makes sense and also just looks cool to me -w-💖💖💖 I like to think it's a side effect of the PPG movie when he got all huge, cuz his canines also got extended so much that they were poking out from his mouth

So the thicker outline around the bottom of his eyes is something that the original show actually did, in the Powerpuff Girls Rule 10th anniversary special! That stuck with me ever since and rly made me question why he didn't always have it 😭💖😭💖

Even if I prefer his rounder design pre-movie, I can't deny that I adore the sharper, M-shaped nose that they gave him later on and I wanted to keep that. The sharp lines just make sense to me and line up with the shape theory of "sharp=mean and evil". Plus it looks like an M! For Mojo! :3

So this change is a more subtle one and is also a very new idea I had, but I gave his pupils a purple tone instead of being pure black! In all honesty it was inspired by one of the cover arts of the newest PPG comics coming out currently where the artist gave him purple eyes. In my mind they used to be a light brown and got tinted purple from his mutation, along with the whites going pink.

Alright final thing (I think), I know I touched on the notch out of his ear, but when it comes to his ear shape in general, I like to find a happy middle ground between his fully rounded ears they drew on him pre-movie, and the sharp almost elf-like ears they gave him post-movie. Like I said earlier, the sharpness reads as more villainous!

Oh wait! Okay last thing for real: I love giving him a bit more fur around his face, purely for the fact that I think it looks good and cute uwu 💖💖💖💖💖💖

If you read this far please either reblog or comment with your thoughts, I'd be so honored 🥺💖

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #12

Stanky Danky

Me: Huh, Mark's extended family must have stopped dropping by to eat the pollution. Mr. Guzman: There's even trash in space! Me: oh no

I like how Hazel consistently wears her hair covering at night. The first time I heard this show would have a black girl for a protagonist (like a year+ ago), I was really nervous about whether it would be handled well- I'd braced myself for "trying too hard to score diversity points."

I have to say, I've liked the hair style variety within her own family, and I feel like there have been more black background characters than I remember from the OG show (though I didn't go practically frame by frame in the OG like I'm doing for this liveblog).

I didn't say it in "Trial or Hair-or," but I enjoyed how Hazel formed a stronger bond with and love for her hair, as I feel like that would be important to her personal identity. I like how she always wears this hair covering to bed. Little details like that make me feel so much more at ease about something I was really nervous about for what feels like 15 months.

SLKDJFSLDKJF Cosmo and Wanda are still sleeping in separate beds. I mean, that's standard Fairy culture in my 'fics, so it works for me.

Trash monster is nice! Didn't see that coming.

Hazel: I wish he could speak at least a few words? /wish granted and he can speak only a few words

I knew it, Kennueth IS on a cliff in that poster. I'm surprised Hazel had to wish for him to breathe air last episode.

Uh-oh, it's Dimmadome time- WHAT DO YOU MEAN "one-time use helicopter??" Sir, you can't bring that to an event about polluting less and saving the earth! ... Is Dale in there? I have to assume so. I've been missing him.

Me: Aww, Dale looks just like his old self! Awesome, and easier to recognize when he's not panning across the- OH MY GOSH!!! Dale: When I was your age, I spent my Saturdays working in a factory underneath a lemonade stand >:/ (Pulls out photo of him from "Nectar of the Odds"

Sir. SIR!! Do not repeat the abuse cycle with your son!

-> I hate that he just carries this around. Dale, you need to let it go. And maybe sue Vicky, idk.

I'm CRYING, I love how they gave him false teeth. That's hilarious.

The boots... That's a Dimmadome, all right.

Like, on some level I'm glad Doug spoiled him after he was rescued from Vicky's lemonade horror show, but I'm gettin' a bad feeling...

I can only assume this family tells horror stories about Vicky. This is the funniest anti-hero backstory ever. I was also going to treat Dale's torment 100% seriously in 'fic, but this is way more fun.

They are not cutting any corners. They didn't even change his backstory; he literally got tormented underneath a lemonade stand for 7 years. That's the one piece of canon he was given in the OG show and by golly, are they sticking to it.

Did Vicky take over the lemon torture pit from someone else?? Did she start this gig when she was 9? Is she gettin' retconned? Hm.

They definitely do not drink lemonade in the Dimmadome house. Please let me see Hazel offering Dev his first taste. If we don't get that as an episode someday, I'm writing a 'fic.

Dev trying to get out of pollution clean-up day: But... is our company even earth-conscious?

Too funny.

Okay, I've been thinking about it ever since Episode 1, but why didn't Dale get a fairy? I was waving it off under the assumption he'd only been underground for a couple days max, but... with 7 years, now I have questions.

-> Did Vicky move her lemonade kids around? The stand wasn't always on Timmy's front lawn, but... Surely Cosmo or Wanda would've detected him if he WAS under Timmy's lawn for 7 years.

WELP, trash monster's upset there's not gonna be more trash to eat if they clean it all up. I can see the problem. Uh-oh...

Why do I get the feeling that Dale has said "Come to Daddy," to the trash monster more than he's said it to his own son?

Hazel's parents didn't come to the trash clean-up?

sldkfjsdklfj he's still got the boots... I hate him /affectionate.

There is something severely funny to me about how they've made it clear they took inspiration from Dale's canon design, but his adult design lost his fluff and cowlick and has sleeker, professional hair. Something about this feels very correct for this art style because I feel like a lot of the adults have shiny hair without little tufts and decorations. I might redo my adult designs.

Oh, Hazel doesn't even know that's Dev's dad because she didn't see his mental pictures in Episode 1. This keeps getting better. I love how she also said "That guy with the ridiculous boots" after I pointed out the boots. Yes, Hazel, we've been over this... He's a Dimmadome.

Cosmo and Wanda in their apartment again! Just chillin'.

I don't know why I didn't expect Dev's drones to be called Dimmadrones.

Dale to the trash monster: You're like a son to me! Dev in the background:

The moon is still a waxing crescent when you're in space? ... I mean, I guess.

Peace of Pizza

Ya know, I'm surprised we haven't seen the Ya Boix drinks come up more than the fact that Kev sponsors them (mentioned in 2 episodes). I guess it's nice that they were depth for a side character, but that surprises me since they're the first thing you see in the theme song.

Ooh, Dev's in the title card! Where's this going?

I like how Hazel was using Cosmo pencil to stab Wanda eraser. She may have fairies, but she's still a bored schoolkid.

I... I was going to cheer that we had a list of names for classmates, but uh...

The Kindness Chart isn't in alphabetical order. I feel like putting Dev at the bottom was a targeted move.

Or it's reverse alphabetical since she's Hazel Wells and he's Dev Dimmadome.

It's still a waning crescent?

Maybe I'm old-school, but "pea pod aliens" is setting off all my alarm bells.

... Aliens are insisting everyone loves pizza, but what if someone's lactose intolerant?

Okay, since we're just coming off the episode where Dale reminded Dev he was locked underground making lemonade for 7 years, I feel like I don't blame Dev for not trusting anyone?

Like, I get the feeling his dad is emotionally absent, but this might not entirely be his dad's doing. I'm not sure I'd trust people either if my dad got yoinked for 7 years when he was my age.

Especially since Vicky's whole thing is that she's nice until she starts bullying. Yeah... don't trust.

sdfklj, Dev slam-dunking his stuff in the trash can and backflipping away. That's so unnecessarily extra.

Does the news never have anything important to report? ... I'm glad Winn brought up the thought of getting their own pizza, since I was wondering about that myself.

SLKDFJSDF...

Hazel: Dev, I have someone here who wants to talk to you! Dev: What's she doing? The Closer: She's trying to use someone close to you to appeal to your emotions. Dev: ... ?? No one's close to me. wtf. /scene change where Cosmo is dressed as Dev's dad.

Oh, this is gonna go great.

Dev, instantly switching gears after hearing "his father"'s voice through the door: ... Dad? You took off work for this?

Ruh-roh.

-> Wanda can read him like a dog-eared book.

So... She- she's gonna report this to Jorgen, right? I feel like she's supposed to do that. She's gonna tell him this kid is ticking multiple misery boxes, right? She's not just gonna ignore this... Wanda, please.

Not sure how I feel about the running gag that so many adults look like Timmy's adult self from "The Big Problem." Throws me off every time and I wasn't a fan of that design anyway, so it feels weird.

HE'S LACTOSE INTOLERANT, I KNEW IT! ... Well, not really him specifically, but I was on the right track.

Oh, this is terrible. Am I mistaken, or aren't lactose intolerant pills like, $10? Does he know? Does he know.

Dev: I thought lactose-free pizza was just a myth?

Dale, you're a terrible father.

Also, I like how a lot of effort was put into converting their designs to 2D, right down to Dev's yellow zipper stripe:

Okay, that's enough for this post... On to "A New Dev-elopment"!

[imagination-mess]

The Cambion (Demon!Izuku) (2/3)

This is an alternative universe where demons can be familiar to witches or wizards to assist and, most of all, as protectors. Witches and wizards can create pacts with demons.

Word Count: 1.3+ (2/3)

A/N: Tumblr has a limit on how much you can put in singular post how much you can post. I was forced to put it into three different posts. If you wish to see a singular post about it, here is the link to Ao3.

Part 1

Demon! Izuku Midoriya:

The two of you talked a bit more. You see that he wasn’t that convinced. You took him to a witch whose expertise is in demons and a doctor for demons. The witch confirmed your theory that Izuku’s power is just latent. It will take a while for them to show up. He just needs to get muscle into his body if he ever wants those powers to show up or even use them.

“I am going to be blunt. Your body or mind is nowhere in a state to hold any power; you die, regardless of being immortal.”

“There was a case a long time ago of a demon whose powers were latent like yours. He did everything in the book to provoke them and got involved with the dark sorcerer. He got what he wanted but died because his body at the time wasn’t suited to handle it.” The older demon, who's familiar with the witch demon doctor, butts in.

The doctor took a single glance up and down at him, making him even more self-conscious than he already was.

It was a lot of information to process. When you took him back to your dorm, you had an upgraded dorm since you reached the level you needed to summon Demon Familiar. You also have a benefactor who is already funding your education. Someone who believed in you despite not going to the Academy of Witches. You were behind compared to the rest of the student body. You aren’t the only one behind and playing catch-up, either.

Izuku asks his final question to determine his decision to make a pact to become familiar to you until death. He was afraid of the answer, but he needed to know. He isn’t the prettiest demon or the strongest. He is just an outcast demon that has horns and wings but doesn’t match the definition of a demon.

"Do you believe I have the potential to become a powerful demon?”

“Yes."

Your prompt response surprised him. You didn’t hesitate in your response. He felt emotional and had someone who believed in him.

That night, he made a pact with you.

You didn’t hesitate to answer him because you felt his raw power clashing with and completely overwhelming your power. You had to have more energy to balance this and make it stable enough. There were cracks in the ground underneath the summoning circle because of how much he was overwhelming your abilities.

Unknown to the Izuku, you and the demon witch doctor already knew why his abilities were latent. The clear sign of the demon’s esteem is through their horn conditions. The other factor is being a Cambion. It has been reported throughout history. These beings have a much harder time having good control over their abilities. At the news of finding out, it took him much longer to learn to fly until he was eleven years old.

It’s secret and kept out of the demon's knowledge because the demon will just focus on physical perception instead of working on both the mind and body. They will get frustrated seeing how their horns aren’t improving, but rather the horns are in a worse state than previously.

It took a while for Izuku to adjust to this new environment, but once he got adjusted, he was still thinking of an alias to use since names are powerful things around here.

You would bring him books on topics that he wanted to know, such as demons who were latent just like him. It took a long time to get your hands on them, but you gave them to him. He was doing a bunch of research, learning more about his kind.

He found a lot of things he didn't know about, and he is rare, but it gave him a new perspective. He shouldn’t think like the demons he grew up around, but be patient with himself. It will take longer for him, and it’s avoidable. There are a lot of baby steps to take.

He was thankful that you asked around to get your hands on an electronic version of the journal of Cambion, as familiar as the legendary witch from centuries ago.

He was very grateful for how patient you were with him and for getting all of the information he wanted to know if you didn’t know the answer. He wasn’t able to enter the library because he was a newbie and needed to wait a year until he could have access to it.

He rambled your ear off and immediately shut down, realizing he was talking too much. It took a while for him to be comfortable and stop apologizing for his rants.

You took him to get his haircut because the mantled hair was too much; even the hair stylist couldn’t help him. There were a lot of dead ends. His hair reached down to the lower part of his back. The hairstylist explained to him the importance of getting his hair trimmed once in a while and why.

He has much shorter hair, and it took a while to adjust. His head felt so much lighter now.

You taught him basic personal hygiene. Demons and human personal hygiene are different, but there are slight similarities.

You know he has shown interest in hitting the gym and running around, but you also noticed how hesitant he was to go to the gym or run around campus like the rest of the demons around. You believe it was because he was self-conscious about his appearance. That’s when you introduced him to your friend’s demon known as Red Riot; it was his alias since personal names are the most powerful but also the most dangerous to give out carelessly.

You already talked to the demon before introducing him to Izuku. Red Riot brought him along to the gym when there were barely any people there, and he ran around when there weren’t any demons around.

Red Riot helped him a lot and gave him a lot of knowledge on working out perspectives. He was thankful; he wasn’t judging but rather encouraging him.

You also told him about a therapist and let him have the option to refuse the idea of it. He accepted it and started going to a demon therapist who was very nice to him.

Within a couple of months, Izuku has been feeling better about his physical appearance. He started going out alone and wasn’t afraid to do it either since he already knew his way around campus. He was slowly, but surely, building muscle mass in his body. He was starting to get attention from other witches and demons.

He became even more popular when he was flying around to have a faster flight time. He only has a singular wing. His schedule wasn’t the same but random because you asked him to have random times to hear and see how people were earning interest in him.

You wanted to avoid a confrontation happening when he was working on himself.

Due to earning muscle in his body and slowly becoming muscular. Some of his clothes are too tight. He stopped using those and didn’t want to bother you. He didn’t want to ask for new clothes until he ripped a pair of sweatpants when he bent down to grab a book from the bookshelf in the living room from the ground. The rip echoed through the living room, where you were studying at the table to look at him.

Without asking, you immediately took him to get new clothes and told him to put them in a bag to donate if he had any clothes that no longer fit him.

You even gave him an allowance to use if he wanted any food or clothes. Seeing how he would rather stay with clothes that fit him tight than ask to get new ones,

Continuation: The Final Part of the post (3/3)

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

I'd love to read any of your HC posts about the older brothers having a trying time when their younger brothers go through the rebellious teenage stage.

Undertale/Horrortale Sans & Papyrus - Papyrus was complicated to deal with. As he grew up, Sans struggled to stay updated about his personality changes. One day he's all bubbly and overconfident, the next day he's goth and doesn't want anyone to talk to him anymore. He's a bit confused about what's going on. Added to that, Papyrus' ways to dig into people's stuff that everyone found cute when he was little turns out to not be so cute anymore so he struggles a lot with loneliness and his inability to make friends. He comes home late, or he doesn't even come home at all, which worries Sans a lot. It became worse when Papyrus started talking about his yellow flower friend that Sans had never seen, so Sans got a little more worried for his brother. But the fact he could talk to at least someone -imaginary or not- is a relief, because that was never Sans' best skill.

Underswap Sans & Papyrus - Honey never really had a rebel stage. Around his teenage years, he shut down and told nothing to his brother anymore. Blue felt guilty, because, with his dreams to enter the Royal Guard, he kinda pushed away his brother a little bit because Honey was too needy and holding him back. Blue tried to talk to him, but never got more than a growl or a nod as all answer. It became worrying when he found more and more cigarettes and bottles of alcohol around the house, and Honey immediately became defensive when he tried to talk about this, saying he didn't need help. The brothers were not really close during that time. Honey got self-aware of this after a few months and tried to get closer to Blue again, but Blue was in training for the Royal Guard and clearly didn't have time for him. So instead of talking to someone, Honey fell into depression and just kinda let the world move on without him, waiting to see what would happen.

Underfell Sans & Papyrus - "I JOINED THE ROYAL GUARD." "the hell you mean you joined the royal guard?! you're barely 15!" "YOU SAID YOU WERE TIRED TO HAVE ME AROUND AND TO BE USEFUL FOR ONCE!" "i didn't mean enroll in the army and go die stupidly for monsters who don't give a shit about you!" "WELL THAT'S TOO LATE NOW SO PISS OFF." Yeah. Edge was something. It's mainly Red's fault though. Red never asked to raise a child on his own and he was harsh on Edge, doing his best to teach him how to survive, even if he had to be mean to do that. He didn't mean Edge to enter the Royal Guard though, he never wanted that. But Edge never listened to him anyway so he didn't have the last word on this. He didn't have enough anxiety, you know. Now he has to live with the fear his brother might die any day.

Swapfell Sans & Papyrus - That's around Rus' teenage years when the brothers stopped talking to each other. Nox entered the guard at a young age, while Rus was manipulated by rebels and educated on how bad the Queen and the Royal Guard were. Obviously, when Rus learned his brother joined the guard, he got mad, and then left the house and didn't come back. Rus met the wrong people, and he slowly let them convince him to try alcohol as a solution to any problem, which obviously didn't help him feel better.

Fellswap Gold Sans & Papyrus - Wine was very conscious about Coffee's different ways of seeing the world. He didn't know what autism was at the time, but he knew for sure that his brother didn't understand the way the world worked and that eventually, the world would have crushed him before he got a chance to defend himself. So Wine, young captain at the time, kept him locked and busy so he didn't get killed. With his new status, he knows Coffee is more protected but also more of a target, so he's scared to find only his ashes in the morning. That actually makes Coffee's social anxiety even worse, as Wine prevented him to develop any social skills. Coffee was only talking with his brother and that weird Temmie he sneaked in when Wine was leaving in mission. He had several rebellion phases, where he escaped the house and gave his brother panic attacks, but Coffee almost died during one of the runaways and decided Wine was right, even though he's sick of being locked in the house all the time. Wine has definitely a part in Coffee's social problems, and safety doesn't explain everything.

[perseusannabeth]

Chapter 1

A/N: Hi everyone, and happy holidays! This is my contribution to the @acotargiftexchange for the lovely @talkfantasytome! I want to thank the organisers for this absolutely brilliant event. It's looking like this fic will be 3 chapters, so fingers crossed that the rest of the parts will come soon!

This has chef Cassian and writer Nesta, aka my favourite combo. I also have to warn you, as per usual, Cassian's Illyrian cooking is in fact how I cook as a south Asian person.

AO3 is currently down, so I won't be able to post this on there until later, but it will be added. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this!

Summary: Cassian is deeply concerned about the fact that his neighbour cannot cook at all. He decides to start cooking for her to save her from an early death, and it becomes so much more.

Cassian had lived in his current apartment for a long enough time to know most of the people in the building. It wasn't a massive building, so it wasn't hard to run into people. The only person he hadn't run into was his neighbour, who had moved in 3 months ago. 

Thankfully, there were signs of life, like the post being checked, and he could hear the door opening and closing. The most concerning thing he noticed was that his new neighbour seemed friendly with the fast food delivery drivers. Cassian didn't like judging food choices because he knew that people around him already felt self-conscious when they talked about food. Being a chef meant people assumed he knew best, but he could easily teach people he was willing to learn. Still, his neighbour was concerning him a lot. They must be on their way to a heart attack with the amount of fast food they consumed, and from Cassian's observation, they sometimes got food at least once a day or more. But Cassian had never assumed his neighbour's eating habits would affect him.

"So, have you seen her around? It's been a few days, that's all, and I'm a little worried about her," said his delivery driver, Toby. 

"I'm sorry, I'm so tired right now that my brain barely functions. Please, can you repeat yourself?" 

"Nesta, your neighbour. She orders from us daily, but I've not had any deliveries for her for 3 days. I'm just a little worried about her, that's all," Toby said, blushing now. The poor guy couldn't be more than 20 years old. At 20 years old, Cassian can't imagine he would've had the guts to do what Toby was doing, so he had to hand it to the guy. 

"I'm sorry, I haven't heard from her," Cassian replied, unwilling to admit he'd never seen her before and had just learned her name from Toby. "I'll check on her though, don't worry," Cassian said, to both reassure the man and to get him to leave because, god damn it, his food was getting cold!

"Thanks, man, I really appreciate it. She seems nice, and she tips really well." Toby smiled. Cassian just nodded awkwardly and then waited for Toby to finally (finally) move from his door. 

Cassian practically inhaled his food because, yes, he had promised his delivery driver that he would check on his neighbour, but if he was going to check on a potentially dead person, he would not be doing it while he was hungry. Fuck that; he had been in the restaurant since 6am, and he had planned on eating and then collapsing in bed. Now he had to check on his potentially dead neighbour because the delivery boy liked her tips!

By the time he had finished his food, he had managed to work up some energy, mostly just the rage he had to check on his neighbour and delay his sleep. Still, before leaving his flat, he checked his attitude at the door because he didn't want to be rude. He was being neighbourly, even if he was tired. 

When he knocked on the door and didn't hear any movement on the other side of the door, he was suddenly wide awake. He had horrific visions of breaking the door down and finding a corpse as he knocked again, trying to delay the rescue mission playing out in his head. When the door flew open, Cassian nearly jumped out of his skin.

The lady in front of him looked pretty annoyed at him, especially as he gawped at her like an idiot. Her hair was pulled up in something that might have once been a bun but was now just a tangled mess. She was in a long t-shirt that had seen better days; it was stained and faded, and underneath, she wore leggings that were in a similar state. But somehow, despite all this and the deep bags under her eyes, she still was the most beautiful woman Cassian had ever seen. 

"Can I help you?" The woman said, giving him a quick once over. 

That snapped Cassian out of his trance. "Sorry, erm, I'm looking for someone called Nesta?" Cassian asked awkwardly.

The woman had gone from droll to actively suppressing a laugh. "Oh my god, did Emerie actually do it? Are you a male stripper?"

Cassian's eyes widened as he quickly stepped back to distance himself from the beautiful, crazy woman. "Woah, I have no idea who Emerie is. I'm flattered you think I could pass for a stripper, but I'm no magic Mike. I'm Cassian, and I'm your neighbour." Cassian said, pointing at the open door to his apartment.

'Oh," the woman said, now also looking awkward. 

"Look, I just need to know if you're Nesta and if you're alright. I ordered some food, and the delivery driver said he was worried because he hadn't heard from you in a few days," Cassian explained, not wanting to linger in awkward silence. 

The woman's face went bright red at that, so Cassian assumed that this was, in fact, the mysterious Nesta who tipped really well and ordered food every single day. "Listen, I'm assuming you're Cassian, the chef Mrs Culpepper mentioned. I can only imagine what you think of me since Toby felt chatty today. I'm gonna be honest with you, I can't cook. My friend said not to burn down the building, so I've not tried. Really, my takeaway habit is saving everyone, and as my neighbour, you should be grateful, so don't judge me,"

Cassian held his hands up in surrender. "I'm not judging. Just because I enjoy cooking doesn't mean I assume everyone will. I am, however, slightly concerned. Is that all you eat? That can't be good for your health," Cassian said, frowning as he calculated how expensive that must be and the calories. He wasn't the best with numbers, so he couldn't be sure, but he was pretty sure that was a bad time. 

"My friend said the same thing, so she batch-cooked me a few meals. I've got a deadline for work, so I've been even worse than usual, but that's why I haven't ordered any food. When it runs out, which will probably be tomorrow, I'll be back to ordering from Toby," she said with a shrug. 

"Okay, I said I'm not judging, but that sounds horrific. I can't let you carry on like that. I don't think my conscience can take it," Cassian said, looking at her wide-eyed. The way this woman was going, she'd be dead of a heart attack in no time.

"I'll be fine; you don't need to take pity on me," Nesta said defensively. 

"Listen, it's Nesta, right?" she nodded, eyeing him suspiciously now, which made him want to laugh. She hadn't been suspicious before, but now he was questioning her food intake; she was wary of him. "I get to take leftovers from my work. It's one of the perks, but there's sometimes a lot. I tend to bring them home and make myself something with whatever random stuff there is. It's way healthier than ordering out and helps me not waste food. It's a win-win situation for both of us, really." 

"So, you're basically offering to be my personal chef?" Nesta said, trying to figure out what the catch was. 

"Well, within reason. If there's anything you hate or won't eat, I'll consider it, and obviously, any allergies. And if you want something specific, I don't mind making that, too, as long as I have enough time to get the ingredients. And I don't really mind cooking; if I didn't love it, I wouldn't do it as my job." 

A silence lingered, and Cassian wondered if he had gone in too hard on the sales pitch. He wouldn't be shocked if she said no; it was a weird request from your neighbour, whom you'd only met. But there was something about this woman that made Cassian want to offer to cook for her outside of work. His friends knew he never shared his food, not when he was outside of work. He made traditional Illyrian dishes when he was at home. It was a way for him to stay connected with his culture and mother despite his distance. These recipes had been handed down through generations of his mother's family, but there was something private and intimate about them. But he would share them with his neighbour. 

"Are you even real?" Nesta said, staring at him in a bit of a daze. Then, she reached out and poked him in the cheek. "You feel real," she said as she continued poking his cheek.

"I- I think I'm real?" Cassian stuttered, really not sure how he should react. Cassian wasn't shy, but this woman was just something else. 

Clearly, his talking pulled her out of whatever daze she was in. "I'm so sorry; I've been working non-stop for my next deadline, so I'm losing my grip on reality right now," Nesta said, shaking her head to get rid of whatever weird thoughts were in her head. 

Cassian pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Add your number, and I'll text you so you have mine. Then, you can text me any allergies or anything you wouldn't eat. I'll probably just tell you some dishes I can make with the leftovers, and you can let me know what sounds good. Is that okay with you?" Cassian said.

Nesta nodded, handing his phone back with her number added. Cassian shot her a quick text and then put his phone away. "Thank you," Nesta said awkwardly. "You really don't need to do that, but I'm certainly not going to look a gift horse in the mouth," she said with a shrug and a quick smile. 

Cassian smiled back, said his goodbyes and went back to his apartment. As he shut his door, he took his neighbour in, who was watching him walk away with a contemplative look on her face. He shook his head, shutting his door. Cassian was doing a good deed for his hot neighbour, but he hoped and prayed that his friends wouldn't find out about it. 

With that, he quickly got ready for bed, practically collapsing into his bed. As he drifted off to sleep, he noticed that he was smiling and had been since he had said goodbye to his neighbour. 

***

Cassian had forgotten entirely about the events of the night before when he woke up in the morning. It was so surreal; it felt like a dream. It wasn't until he was getting ready for his morning run that he realised it was true. 

He had a strict no phones policy in the mornings, mainly because his doom-scrolling habit was an awful way to start the day. So until he was ready to leave the house, he wouldn't look at his phone. It had helped with his mental health a lot and made waking up for his job so much easier, too. 

Since he had the day off, he slept till 9, which was late for someone who left the house at 4am every day for work. When he finally looked at his phone, he froze for a second, because there was a message from his neighbour. 

Once he had processed that yesterday had, in fact, not been a dream, he quickly made a note of the things she didn't like (kale being called the devil's lettuce made him laugh way more than it should've); he had a quick glance in the fridge to see what he could make. He figured he would make a quick tuna and avocado sandwich for lunch, and then for dinner, he would make pasta. Both seemed reasonably safe first options for her meals. Then, he could also give her leftover pasta for lunch the next day. 

As he finally left and started his run, he realised this could be the perfect opportunity to work on some new recipes for the restaurant. He wanted to update the menu and add more traditional recipes, but he had been nervous to test them out on anyone. By the time he got to the point he turned back, he had a massive grin on his face. He whipped his phone out and sent Nesta a text. 

Cassian: I've just had an idea. How would you feel being my new taster for some experimental recipes?

Her reply was instant, which surprised him. 

Nesta: you're doing me a favour so if i can help then i'm good with that. Although idk if i'm the best taste tester since my own culinary skills start and end at cereal 

Cassian: All I need is your honest opinion, everyone else in my life is too biased.

Nesta: i'm not afraid of cutting a man down, so dw

Cassian laughed at her message, sending her a quick laughing emoji before he put his phone back to go back home. He was in a good mood and excited about cooking for someone new. Of course, he got to cook for new people at his job every day, but cooking for someone one-on-one was so different. He could get her reactions, and she would give him feedback. This wasn't just a faceless customer; it was his neighbour. 

When he had assembled the sandwich, he put it into a Tupperware box and then cleaned up the kitchen. Once he was done, he finally gave Nesta her sandwich, trying to ignore the excitement and nerves bubbling in his stomach as he knocked on her door. 

Nesta flung the door open with a massive smile on her face. "Well, hello there, neighbour," she said, wiggling her eyebrows at him. "What do you have for me?" Nesta said, looking at the box with excitement. 

"I've got a tuna and avocado sandwich with red onion and some homemade sriracha mayo," Cassian said, presenting her the food with a flourish.

Nesta didn't hesitate to open the box to have a look. "Oh wow, this looks so good, like one of those fancy coffee shop sandwiches which is really over-priced. Did you make the bread, too?" she asked, tapping the sourdough. 

"Oh nah, absolutely not; I'm not much of a bread maker; it's so faffy, but I love the smell of fresh bread. There's another chef in the restaurant who makes bread, but there's never any left, so this is just some supermarket bread."

"Oh, well, I thought you used leftovers," Nesta said with a frown. 

"I do, but I like to jazz them up, so I use things I have at home, too. Don't worry about it, though."

"Nah, absolutely not. I need to pay you for this if you're using your money to feed me. That's not fair on you!" she exclaimed. "I'm not a charity case."

"I don't think you are!" Cassian said, alarmed. "You're going to help me, remember. Maybe I'll develop a new menu for the restaurant."

"I still want to contribute to this because you're saving me a lot of money. Let me pay half towards your groceries at least," Nesta said sternly. 

"I- okay if you insist, but I feel bad taking your money," Cassian said awkwardly. 

"Well, that's too bad. Text me your bank details, and I'll transfer you the money, and if you don't, I'll just have to hunt you down and hurt you," she threatened. 

"You seem like a busy woman, so I'll try to avoid that happening," Cassian winced. Changing the subject, he asked, "So I never asked, but what do you do?" 

"Oh, I'm a writer!" Nesta said excitedly.

"Oh wow, that's amazing! What kind of stuff do you write? I've not had time to read in a while, but maybe I should start that up again."

Nesta's eyes widened at that. "Do not read my books. You're not the target audience, and frankly, I would probably have to avoid you if I knew you'd read them."

Cassian frowned at her, and then it dawned on him. "Oh my god, you write porn books!" he exclaimed. 

"They're romance books! Sometimes they might have some smut, but they're not porn!" she hissed. 

"Right, of course! Well, I'm gonna get going since you've probably got some sex scene left to right or something," Cassian said with a shit-eating grin. 

Nesta froze but then smirked. "Actually, I finished writing that last night after you left. You know, since you weren't the male stripper I was hoping for," she said before turning around and slamming the door in his face. He stood there gaping for a while before eventually shaking himself out of it. My god, that woman was something else. 

***

"Cassian bheta! It's been too long since you called me," his mother said as she answered the phone. He had decided to ring her while he cooked because it was the best way to cook. He couldn't help but smile at his mother calling him son in their native language. He loved his Illyrian culture; the fact his mother had taught him so much of it gave him such pride. 

"Mama, I called you 2 days ago, and I've been texting you too!" he protested with a smile as he diced onion. 

"But you're my baby, my bacha, you don't understand. One day, when you have your own children, then you'll understand," she loved saying that line. It was one of his favourites. Now, he was nearing 30 and not even close to being married. 

 He ignored her comment, knowing no good could come from delving into that subject. "Mama, I'm making Illyrian-style pasta for my neighbour right now."

"Ohh, is your neighbour Illyrian too? Rhys's mum told me that the lady who used to live across the road from her has a daughter in the city! Her name is-"

"Mama! Velaris is a big city; you know I won't run into every Illyrian here, so stop trying to match-make! My neighbour isn't Illyrian, but she said she's happy to try different things. I'm cooking for her because she can't cook for herself."

"She can't cook?" his mother said, sounding scandalised. 

"No, and let me tell you, how I met her was crazy."

He relayed the events of yesterday evening while he sauteed the onion in some ghee, diced up some bell peppers and drained the sweetcorn. After the onions started to go soft, he added the basaar, a mix of spices that Illyrians added to almost every dish.

"Well, it's a good thing you're here to look after this girl; the poor thing has been living off those takeaways; she's in desperate need of some good, home-cooked food!" his mother said the word takeaway like it was dirty. She had always been very strict about eating out when they were younger, telling him they could make it better at home. Only as he got older did he realise they probably couldn't afford to eat out for more than the occasional treat. 

"That's why I offered mama."

"That's because you're my good bacha," she said fondly. "What's this neighbour's name anyway? And what does she do?" she asked. 

Cassian smiled. Illyrian mothers could never resist fishing for gossip, even if it was people they didn't know. "Oh, her name is Nesta, and she said she's a romance writer."

His mother gasped, making him almost drop the pasta as he drained it. "Are you cooking for the famous writer, Nesta Archeron?" his mother asked, her excitement tangible. 

"I don't actually know her surname. Why?" he asked, suspicious. 

"Oh my god, Cassian!" her mother screamed, so excited that she didn't seem to mind busting her son's eardrums. "Cassian, that woman is my favourite author!"

His eyes widened at that. "Mama! I don't want to know if you read those books!" he said, taking deep breaths and trying to clear his mind of that information.

"Pfft, why? Those books are brilliant, and you're a grown man now, stop being a baby. There are no men in my life, but those fictional men are something else," his mother sounded breathless, which was just too disturbing to think about. 

"Mama! Stop, I'll be sick if you carry on, and then how can I feed your favourite author?"

His mother was outraged at that. "Listen here, you! She's writing her next book, so you better feed her well because I've been waiting for this book for a year."

"Geez, mama, I promise I will; now I have to go. I'll give it to her now while it's warm." He said, sprinkling cheese on the pasta he had put in the two Tupperware boxes for Nesta. His mother said her goodbyes because he needed to feed Nesta, not because he said he needed to go. She made it clear her loyalties lie with Nesta, which was concerning. 

He knocked on Nesta's door, and she came quickly this time. She eagerly handed him an empty box from lunch, which had been washed, and took the pasta. 

"I'm not sure if you know this, but I can smell when you're cooking things, so I've been able to smell this for a while, and I'm starving right now. This smells absolutely amazing, so if this is what Illyrian food is like, keep it coming," Nesta said, not taking her eyes off the pasta. 

"Well, this isn't Illyrian food; this is just pasta with an Illyrian twist on it, in all fairness, but I'll keep that in mind." Nesta nodded eagerly. "By the way, my mother wanted me to check. Are you the author, Nesta Archeron?"

Nesta looked up at that. "Yes, I am," she said slowly.

"Right, well, my mother is a big fan and said I need to feed you well so you can write your book because she's very excited. She's basically gonna disown me if I don't cook well for you," he laughed. 

Nesta smiled at that. "She sounds sweet. Let her know that you're doing an excellent job."

Cassian smiled back and returned to his apartment, giving her instructions about how she needed to eat the 2nd box for lunch tomorrow because he would be at work. Nesta thanked him profusely, licking her lips as she eyed the pasta. 

Cassian got out of there quickly after that because seeing Nesta lick her lips did something weird that he didn't want to think about. He had only met the woman yesterday, so whatever he felt, he would ignore it. 

He got a text as he dug into his own pasta while watching a modern family rerun on TV. 

Nesta: this might be the best pasta i've ever had omg you're a god!!!

Nesta: i would eat this for the rest of my life if i could

Cassian: It's not too spicy for you?

Nesta: nah, this is fine, the tomatoes calm it down. Idk if i'm strong enough to handle more than this tho, my tastebuds are probs dead with everything i eat 

Cassian: Lolll, noted

Cassian cleared his dishes and got into bed since he'd have an early night the next day. Before putting his phone away, he quickly googled his neighbour, and lo and behold, a list of her books came up. She was popular, and he had to admit, he was impressed. Her fans were practically rabid for her next book. It looked like a series, so he ordered the first book before he could think about it too deeply. 

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[daz4i]

ok now i'm at home in bed and can make a proper post with all my thoughts. gushing abt personal stuff and possibly getting into sensitive territory here and there under the cut

today was really nice 🥹

i love our group i'm so glad i got to meet them i'm so glad they are a part of my life

everything went well. i'm honestly. extremely proud of myself for making it through this entire process, and not giving up like i at times wanted to. the last few weeks where my role was tweaked a little were super fun and today was the highlight, like seeing and hearing the audience clap even when i did just the littlest things was so. satisfying

after the show lots of people, including complete strangers, came up to me and told me i was great and that i was both funny and touching and they loved my part, i got so many hugs ahdjkflg 😭😭😭 beyond the clapping and laughter i got during the show which were already nice 🥹

the show itself was received better than i expected, and i started liking it more in recent weeks too hehe. we leaned into the campiness of it even more and it made it so much more fun to experience

it reminded me how much i love theater and how much i love being on a stage and not to sound spiritual or w/e but i truly was meant for this like this is what i'm supposed to be doing. i hope i can some day do it for money lol enough to make a living at least :P

. my whole body hurts (fr this show was so much exercise for my lazy ass 😩) but it's a good kind of hurt? bc it comes with satisfaction. hope i don't regret saying this tomorrow :P

in addition to playing in the show i was also somewhat of an assistant director lol. both our director and someone from the management team who was involved in the process mentioned it to my mom separately, like our director praised me for this and said my insight was always helpful and that i had great ideas omg 😭 this entire time i was worried that i'm like. taking over too much or smth bc i always had shit to say abt everything fr :P but ig it was received well 🙏 here and there i gave comments to other actors too to remind them stuff or correcr certain movements or lines and i was always worried it annoyed them but. they never got mad at any point. so maybe i can accept that i'm allowed to take space and offer my insight and not only will nothing bad happen, but good things will happen even hehe.

so this is where i get into the sensitive stuff i mentioned. bc if you follow me then you probably know my mental state is Not Great to say the least. and while i did have a lot of anxiety today (even got 2 pieces of somewhat bad news during the day which ofc were both huge bummers) i didn't think abt wanting to die even once. at some point my mean brain tried to bring it up and i managed to shut it down immediately which practically never happens (even when i'm having fun with friends it usually takes a bit more time for me to shake the thought away). which is kind of amazing and also another confirmation that i should be doing this more probably. i think

and. i mentioned being proud of myself. that's also smth that never happens but my aforementioned mean brain can't argue this time bc i absolutely objectively DO have the right to be proud of myself for everything i've done

less than one year ago i barely went out, maybe twice a week at most. the only people i met regularly were my parents (bc. i live with them lol) and my close friends. now i go out 4 times a week at the minimum and i interact not only with my fellow actors but other people in the art program as well, i use public transport which i basically never did since i was like. in high school. and talk to strangers even though I'm still terrified

i didn't just go on a stage but allowed myself to be filmed and managed to look at pictures of myself from the dress rehearsal despite having Issues™️ with this sort of thing. being seen wasn't bad. it was good even. i didn't feel as self conscious about the whole thing as i usually do basically

it's kind of amazing to see how much i've changed tbh. achieved. i didn't think smth like this could happen, let alone so quickly (and during. a literal war. that obviously didn't help anyone's mental state)

like. i mentioned being proud of myself. and this is a part of it, doing things that are so huge for someone like me and compared to who i usually am. but i think even compared to a normal person, i did a pretty damn good job that most people don't normally do, and i absolutely earned the right to feel good for the work i put in

^even thinking this is like chewing glass for me so this is ALSO an achievement actually. me feeling good about myself i mean. feeling pride. acknowledging my own success. makes me look back at other things i do/did that others are proud of me for and go "huh. i guess they're right" even tho i denied it before

idk. maybe i'll get a major adrenaline crash and forget these feelings tomorrow. maybe they'll last for a few days. maybe they'd even make a long term mark! who knows! i guess we can only hope (realistically speaking, the way i know myself, it won't stick :P but who knows. maybe just like i am currently building myself and my life little by little, i'll keep accumulating successes like this little by little too, solidify my self esteem a bit more at a time lol

idk how to finish this post. uh. if you read this i'm kissing you on the mouth. i'd say i hope i don't sound too conceited but nah i earned the right to be so anyway 🧐 no one gets to tell me otherwise

[tenaciouschronicler]

December 17 2024 2009

I hope taking a single day between updates doesnt become too much of a norm. Id rather two days on, two days off if Hussie wants a more regular schedule. Its hard to know what kind of info is gonna come out and obliterate your 'crack' theories.

Enough of that lets go back to Saturday. We see WV successfully rappelling down the cylynder from a new perspective.

Here we can see a new face And see that PM is on their way to WV. A meeting with these three is inevitable, but whoever this is is not very friendly or at least is preparing for the worst.

Yesterday, Rose and John got into it about the drawings on Johns wall. Now, Rose links to tinyurl pages of pictures we have seen before in her GameFAQ pages however this time the drawings have been added.

John makes a very good point in the face of this evidence.

EB: yeah, i saw those, but...

EB: they didn't look like that before. you must have changed them.

And I have to agree, somehow, someway we are being forced to see things from Johns perspective even if in-universe that isnt the case for everyone else. Rose posits:

TT: Your presumably longstanding tendency for scrawling this imagery is really your subconsious trying to express something disturbing within you.

TT: Possibly something from your past, which you have blocked out.

TT: And since you have supressed it, your conscious self cannot acknowledge the drawings, therefore they have been invisible until now.

...

TT: Is it unthinkable that over the years it was he who believed you were the one with a passion for clowns? Because of the all the strange drawings in your room? TT: A father then embraces a son's hobby to establish a stronger bond. TT: Or wages a campaign of passive-aggresive mockery of your interests.

Which is actually pretty in line with the theory I came up with in this post. So how is Rose agreeing with me obliterating my theory? Well, while it doesnt really, its forcing me to look deeper at the idea and make some observations. John really cant come to terms with himself potentially being the reason for his dads obsession, and Im kinda inclined to agree.

Im realizing that NONE of these gaurdians are good at communicating. Bro is abusive, Dave lives in fear even if his facade says otherwise. Mom is neglectful, only fufilling the bare minimum leading to Roses independence and passive agression. Grandpa is dead and Bec is a dog, not very great for Jade to have normal socialization. Nanna speaks in riddles as a sprite and barely knows John. Dad, who prior to this was a pinnacle of healthy relations, talks AT his son and only barely listens. He does get John some things he likes, but they are mostly hidden away in his room. The things he Does give John to show his affection are vehemently hated by John. And these are also things Dad has only observed around John without even asking if they really are to Johns liking. I dont know what this all means for the story, but Im really holding out hope Dad makes changes now that the situation is what it is.

Speaking of, John and Rose better get moving or else John is gonna be in quite the pickle ( and Dave better hurry up and get that disk or Rose is gonna be doomed).

[mhsdatgo]

Coming from a Team Green stan, people using the term "bastards" to refer to Luke, Jace and Joff as if that was an excuse to hate them makes me fucking snort. Yes we know they're bastards, so what. It's what they've heard and been told all their life. If that is enough reason for you to think they deserve shit thrown on them then Imma need you to take off your Westerosi lord "they're born of lesser flesh" whore's best friend heart shaped sunglasses real quick and see them as actual characters because you sound no less blood purity obsessed than TB thinking that "Hightower blood" is enough reason to hate anything regarding Alicent's children.

To think that they aren't deserving of lands and titles is perfectly fine when you look at it from Westerosi people's point of view, but that's no reason to hate them at all? (This also applies to some TB stans who storm the posts of maybe a guy who's chilling reading a book and make it their LIFE MISSION to protect them like they're their mama anytime someone barely mentions it.)

One may find various reasons to like or dislike them. You may dislike Luke for slicing Aemond's eye and never feeling a shred of remorse about it, you may like Luke because you think he did what he thought was best in order to protect his brother (although they could've escaped to their mom the moment he was blinded by dirt, but at least they spared themselves a scolding for being up and about at 3 AM going for someone's throat with a real dagger).

You may dislike Jace because he picked after his mother's "who cares what others think we rule lmao" ass line. You may like Jace because when he said that, he was trying to uplift his little brother who was growing self-conscious about the way other lords and ladies were staring at him. It's understandable. They aren't 2D characters everyone must either love or hate.

If you really want someone to blame for how things turned out, why don't you blame Rhaenyra for thrusting them into failure and sending her 13 year old out knowing the Greens would've sought allegiances as well? I don't know, at least send someone who would've been able to outrun Aemond, idk. You call yourself Queen, girl. Choose someone else, that ain't my job. Why don't you blame Daemon for wanting to send kids as envoys when they've got no experience whatsoever and their dragons are literally just babies?

Remember they were never part of a war until their mother pushed them in. They weren't "thieves" for "stealing" Driftmark. Luke didn't even WANT Driftmark. They just wanted to beef with their uncles in peace for the love of God. That they grew up spoiled brats is another story, the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree.

Personally I don't love or hate Jace or Luke. We've been given wayyy too little scenes for them to look anything else other than Aemond's and Aegon's punching bags, respectively. Except for Jace who got me cheering and screaming for him when he was literally THE ONLY ONE WHO STOOD UP FOR RHAENYRA IN EP.10 but yeah, that was the end of it.

Find new reasons to like and dislike characters. Anything that doesn't involve sounding like an aryan race supporter, thank you.

[hel-phoenyx]

New Year's Eve, part 25 (and final)

There we go, it's finally the conclusion !

Next post about this will be a masterpost with everything ever post around that. There may be some one-shots related following that whole ordeal, but you can safely assume the main "plot" is over now.

So let's conclude this in a good way~

---

So.

I'm back at work.

Arm doesn't hurt anymore. Think it should, but I spent my vacation high on painkillers.

I'm on therapy. My therapist was a bit startled to see me coming for our... Second ? Third ? Session with an arm in a sling, but didn't comment on that until I did. Felt surprisingly safe.

Haven't got any peep from the family I send my paychecks too, but hey. Have other things to care about.

And now I'm finally back in the middle of my files and taking care of the ones I want to follow, instead of patrolling around the city for the whims of a madman.

a lot of things happened, during that vacation.

For starters, I saw Tyr again. Outside the hospital. Even if he was still a bit cold, he looked happier. Maybe because he was sporting the most phenomenal amount of hickeys I have ever seen on a man, and I still got pictures of Gustav after his wedding night and on his honeymoon on my phone.

Figured out where they came from. Aarni, that was with me, too, since she teased him all evening. I only rolled my eyes and did the occasionnal snarky remarks from aroace to demi, nothing else.

It was good to see him snort at at least half of them.

I haven't told him what Domhildr told me. Keeping that for the next time she pisses me off. People say I've softened, but in truth, I really, really enjoy the fear on her face. Did I, did I not ? Heh.

Tyr would tell me he wants her to tell him about her secrets herself.

And Sigismund wouldn't believe me anyway, would he ? Or he wouldn't care.

No matter. I never waste blackmail material. Maybe she will take me a little more seriously, now that I can say a word to wreck her life.

That's good enough of a revenge.

What else... I've seen my godson, too. Haven't in a long time, he looked happy to see me, as opposed to Kriss. But Kriss only sassed me for two hours so I guess she's warming up to me again. That's good.

Haven't talked to Idalia since that protest. Apparently, she was expecting me to take care of her, in custody. That's what I usually do. I wonder if the others told her I got hurt. I don't know if it's her who threw that brick, or that metal pipe. I don't think I will ask.

And I'm back at work with a bandage on my arm and some work to do.

With an... Unexpected partner.

I go and knock on his (their ?) door. A "come in!" is my only answer, I roll eyes.

"Oh com'on, Sigismund, you don't even get up to greet me ?"

"I'm working, Fenrir."

I still open the door, and there he is, indeed working. His hair is down, a little more styled than usual, and on his neck I sport what look strangely like...

"Oh, dear gods, not you too."

"What ?-"

He says putting instantly a hand to his neck. Yeah, yeah, be self-conscious as much as you like, it will be a change from Tyr.

That won't stop me from laughing at you.

Even if I close the door because if Amandine hears that, I won't ever hear the end of it.

"A hickey ? Really ? Some girl I know couldn't contain herself or what ?"

And there he blushes. Eh eh. It's even funnier than teasing Tyr. Tyr is used to it by now.

"Please, not any further comments."

"Fiiiiiiiiiiiiine. We have work to do anyway. But friendly advice, wear a turtleneck next time~"

He pouts. Someone didn't appreciate the friendly advice ?

"For a sex-averse aroace, you look strangely invested in this."

Yeah, I've made my real coming-out to a few of the cops. Those I could trust. Couldn't bear to be called gay any moment longer. It's not better, but at least those who understand understand, and as for the others... I would be called gay anyway, so.

"I just find it funny. And I have very sexual friends. Including your metamour. I think you know your girlfriend enough to understand what I've witnessed..."

Blushing again ! Damn, I haven't had this fun in ages.

"Alright, back to work. We have people to interrogate, today. You coming ?"

".... What ?"

Seriously ? He forgot ?

"The sect file, pretty boy. You're paired up with me for this investigation. or I'm paired up with you. Whatever."

"I didn't know...."

"Or you were so cloud-headed that you forgot. I did told you. Fine by me. I'll check if our witness has come, if not, I'll wait for you in my office anyway to pool our clues. See ya !"

I turn around, hand on the door. Can't open it, tho. I'm stopped by a hesitant voice, behind me.

"... Hey, Fenrir."

"What ? Wanna apologize for forgetting about our splendid partnership ?"

Silence.

"... I wanted to thank you, for. Well. A lot of things."

That.

Was unexpected.

I don't know how to react. And it may be a little awkward how I'm shifting my weight from foot to foot. But hey.

I guess I'm smiling.

"Bah. Don't mention it."

I think it's the first time in a long time

Someone thanked me for something.

I hear a laugh, behind me.

"Also, if you can drop the "pretty boy" nickname, I would appreciate it."

That's already more of my alley.

"So what should I call you ? Pretty girl ?"

He coughs, but I don't let him any second to retort. He'll tell me whatever if he wants to, anyway.

"Okay, if you have time for chatting, you have time to come with me. Com'on, let's go see if our witness has arrived."

"... Alright, fine. Who is it ?"

My smile gets wider.

"Iekaterina Le Patriote."