#in other words: watch me try to solve this in my fanfic

[retiredficwriter]

skimming through bloodlines again for my longfic and thought of something

in fiery heart, we learn the reason why the strigoi couldn't drink sydney's blood is because she had practiced magic before, leaving residues of it in her blood. strigoi are dead, human magic is life, they don't go along. got it.

but who else couldn't drink sydney's blood? lee. who was a moroi at the time.

okay, so maybe richelle mead forgot that scene and it's a plot hole. this means that both moroi and strigoi can't drink a witches's blood. it makes sense if we consider what inez says in fiery heart, that witch magic and moroi magic contradict each other.

but then in fiery heart, adrian tastes some of sydney's blood while making out and he isn't disgusted by it.

so does that mean restored moroi can't drink a witch's blood because they were previously "dead"? even though the act of restoration is bringing them back to life?

[0vereasy]

Life’s Creation and Love’s Manifestation (Dr ratio x reader)- Chapter 4: Late Appraisal

Summary: Your promotion as one of the heads of the Security Department at Herta’s Station was full of many headaches, one of the biggest being a visiting scholar from the Intelligentsia Guild, and delegate of the IPC, Dr. Ratio.

When you were forced to team up with him to solve several crises emerging at the Station, how will your tense relationship change? And what exactly is the Doctor hiding?

Taglist: @96jnie @boomie-123 @a2tral @ukiyo-ikigai @poemzcheng @kpopmenace143 @tseleven @rains-mae @comet-kun @thatanimewriter @lowlucifer @snailsposts @earthtooz @delightfuldragoncollection @soobinsgirlfriend @lvfel

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A/N: You can probably tell I’m pretty tired by the writing + shorter chapter, but I wanted to get something out. The original draft was longer but I wasn’t happy with the later half, so I thought I would just for with a smaller chapter this time and keep working at the later half for a better finished produce. This mainly serves as a transitional chapter anyway, with more action expected in the next one.

You know that stereotype where fanfic authors literally go through the craziest shit when they’re writing? Well the last few weeks I won my first trial as a law student, got a few good resolution for other clients all at once, ans started getting closer with my crush. So… I’ve been pretty busy as you can see lol. I have a term break in a few weeks, which is likely when the next chapter will come out, and where I will try to pre-write another chapter or two. Thank you all for being patient with the delay!

Chapter 4: Late Appraisal (3.8k+ words)

“I just don’t understand how this even happened!” you watched the short white-haired man pace around Herta’s office, his forehead crinkled in concentration and mouth twisted into a worried frown. You felt your head pulse with each of his footsteps, thumping in beat with the heavy taps of his feet on the tile floor, the ache getting worse with each motion he made. Aeons, you wish they never found you napping in the Seclusion Zone. At least then you could’ve dealt with your hangover in peace and quiet, “How could multiple researchers and a Herta puppet all go missing in one afternoon? Especially with our upgraded security! It just makes no sense.”

“If you let me go look at the security system, I could tell you,” you deadpanned, eyes trailing over to the office door briefly, as if contemplating some way to escape, before flickering back to your boss, “I don’t even get why you called me here, aren’t we wasting time with this meeting when we could be trying to fix things?”

“Wasting time?” Arlan rebutted, stopping his pacing and crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes narrowed as he looked at you, giving you little hope of making your escape from the office, “You know what’s a waste of time? Trying to track you down just to find out you were passed out drunk in the Seclusion Zone! Do you know how much time we wasted just trying to find you?”

“It was literally my day off, Arlan,” you huffed in reply, mirroring his stance by crossing your own arms over your chest, “I don’t have to tell you where I am all the time. Not anymore at least.” You let the implication of the words hang in the air, something that didn’t go over well with your usually mellow boss, who seemed to be getting angrier by the minute. But hey, if he was gonna push your buttons, you weren’t just gonna sit there and take it. 

“We’re in an emergency, Y/N!” he practically shouted at you, “It doesn’t matter if it's your day off! What would’ve you done if it was your day off when the Legion attacked? Stayed in your room and brushed it off?” You felt your body stiffen at his words, arms moving from their crossed state to hang loosely at your sides. You hated this; when you argued, when he used his knowledge of you and what would set you off for his own advantage. It was almost downright cruel. 

“Don’t talk about the Legion attack,” your reply was quick, emotionless as if you were trying to avoid thinking of it yourself, “You know that’s different. A lot different.” At this point, you were willing to run out of the Herta’s Office, meeting be damned. The ache in your head paused for a moment replaced by a dull pain in your chest, mind swirling with thoughts you’d rather forget. You were almost afraid of how you appeared to your boss right now. 

You watched Arlan’s eyes for the shift in emotion, hoping, praying that he was able to see where you were coming from. You saw it for a moment, like a flicker of hope burning within his purple orbs, before he blinked, sending the sympathy away from wherever it came from, “Is it though? For all we know, all of those researchers are dead! Adler could be dead!” You clenched your fist at the mention of the boy, the pounding in your head seeming to grow again. 

“I get it!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms in the air in frustration, “Which is why I wanna look at the security system to see how this happened! But instead were here arguing about stupid shit that doesn’t matter right now!” You watched as he began to pace around Herta’s office again, Herta’s holographic image of herself staring at the both of you, along with the other genius society portraits, as if they all were looking down on this conversation too. You couldn’t blame them. 

“You know why were having this conversation,” Arlan was quieter now, but still stern, “We needed you, and you there was no way to contact you!” He let out a shaky sigh before talking again, “We even started to think you were taken too!” You took a deep breath, attempting to let the anger inside of you simmer down at the genuine tone of his voice. 

“I already know that,” you sighed, “ Screwllum told me it all when he came to wake me up,” you raised an eyebrow, “You should’ve asked him sooner, I mean,” you tugged on your button-down shirt, holding back a wince at how the sudden action made your head pound harder, “You already know our relationship. If anyone knew where I was, it would be him” You released the shirt, begrudgingly moving a hand to hold your head now, unable to pretend that you didn’t feel like shit any longer. Arlan looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read; disgust? Pity? You’d honestly rather not know. 

“How much did you drink yesterday?” Arlan asked you, pausing his pacing again to change the subject, his expression still holding anger, but voice quiet, as if he was preparing to hear bad news. You thought about putting up a fuss for a moment, but sighed, preparing yourself to relent on this point, as if the alcohol was holding you back from hiding the extent of your poor state. 

“A bottle of wine,” you said simply, crossing your arms across your chest again. You almost looked stupid, standing in the office in your sweatpants and Screwllum’s shirt, confessing your problems, while Arlan stared back at you in proper uniform, leaving the power imbalance between you two evident visually and audibly,  “And a bit of Vodka,” you left the part about the vodka being in your water bottle unspoken, not prepared to deal his rant on that topic that the two of you had gone through hundreds of times before, though the pitying look on his face told you that he already knew.

“You really have to stop this,” Arlan said, voice losing the anger now, holding nothing but pity. Honestly, you preferred him angry. When Arlan became sentimental and looked at you like you were a lost cause or some sort of fuck up, for some reason nothing in the world felt worse. You didn’t know what it was; the way his lips curved into a frown like no other he ever displayed, or how his big eyes became downturned, a flicker of pain etched onto them and the rest of his features, “You can’t keep doing this to yourself…”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” you stared into his pitying eyes, hand from your head moving back to your side as you forced both your features and stance into neutrality as if that would fight off the emotions that threatened to spill from you.

“You don’t have a choice,” he said firmly, though not unkindly, “You know what I think about your drinking… what Asta thinks,” he let that name hang in the air for a moment, sending a shiver down your spine that made you wince, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by your boss. Arlan sighed, the sternness from before fading away into his usual kind demeanour, “You know I can’t control what you do; you’re an adult. But when your drinking gets in the way of your job; when you pass out somewhere where we can’t find you when we need you, thats when it becomes an issue.”

“Arlan,” you spoke his name, whether in warning for him to stop, or in frustration at the change in track of conversation, you couldn’t say.

“You know the Station is vulnerable after the attack… you know it better than anyone,” he said softly, “So we need you to be at 100% all the time… I know I already extended your hours after the whole incident from a few days ago,” you gritted your teeth at the previous punishment you had received due to your actions on the night that the stupid alcaster face bastard arrived, “but I don’t think that’s enough for what we need from you right now.”

“What are you suggesting?” you huffed, tapping a finger against your thigh impatiently. It clearly wasn’t the first time you received punishment and definitely wouldn’t be the last. At least that was something familiar in your life, you mused - at least something in your life could follow a steady routine. 

“... You can’t drink any alcohol for the rest of the month,” he said firmly, quickly speaking again when he saw you open your mouth in protest, “Okay, maybe not the month… but at least until we get the researchers back and solve the confidence issues… I need you sober right now, Y/N.”

“You know its not that easy to just… stop,” you muttered, eyes moving to look at your feet. Even now, early in the morning, probably a bit over 12 hours from your last drink, you felt jittery, like you needed something to quell your nerves. Without the alcohol, and even with the pounding head, things were too… vivid, real. It was overwhelming to experience the sensations in the world how they were meant to be seen without the dull drag of a foggy blanket taking over your mind. How were you supposed to go a few days like this? 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, catching your glance as you looked back at him, “I don’t have a choice right now… let's talk more later, go, try to figure out why the security system went down last night.”

You opened your mouth, as if to respond, but allowed it to close again, turning your back to the man, “Whatever… talk to you later… Brother Arlan,” you left Herta’s office before he could respond to your use of his common teasing nickname around the station, not being in the mood to deal with another yelling match today. You unceremoniously slam the door behind you before you practically drag your body towards the elevator. Around you, you could hear the panicked gossip of various researchers, a sound that did nothing to calm the pounded headache that continued to make every movement a hassle. Part of you thought about talking to them - telling them that everything was under control. 

The other part of you recognized that you probably looked like a hot mess right now, and didn’t bother. They already didn’t trust you anyway - you weren’t stupid. If anything, approaching them would probably make things worse than it already was. So, you dragged your body down the stairs, onto the main floor of the master control zone and to the elevator, fully intent on not acknowledging anyone’s existence. 

It was only the sniffles of one specific person that made you do a double-take before you could press the button to call the elevator. Wen Shiling was a few feet behind you, trying to hide her sobs in her sleeve, but failing to do so, her small body physically shaking, evident even from your distance away from her. It was times like these when you wondered how children were even allowed to be researchers on this Station in the first place - it made you wonder how they could handle the stress that even you struggled to deal with. You paused, mind flickering between Wen Shiling and the elevator, sighing when you ultimately decided on the former, trudging your quiet body towards hers.

“Wen Shiling?” you spoke softly, bending down to be closer to her height, the action paining your head. Honestly, with your hangover and usual tone of conversation, you really had no idea how to approach comforting her… or anyone really, “What’s wrong sweetie, are you okay?” you hesitated before reaching a hand out, touching her gently on the shoulder. Her eyes seemed to water as she took in your form, a long sob escaping her lips. She looked from your hand to you, as if contemplated whether she wanted to move away, though she kept herself firmly planted in place. 

“No, I’m mad!” she cried, wiping her teary eyes on her sleeve. She offered you know no other words, too focused on stifling her sobs, which were still obnoxiously loud. You resisted the urge to cover your ears to block out the noise despite her cries doing nothing to soothe your headache. You gently rubbed your hand up and down her back, hoping that it offered some form of comfort to the girl. 

Though she wasn’t clear about the source of her anger, it was clear enough to guess, “You don’t have to worry about Adler, we’ll definitely bring him back soon.” Of course you left out the part where you had no idea where the little boy was or if he was even alive… but you really didn’t want to get into discussing the philosophy of life and death with a eight year old. Your mind flickered to Adler’s stupid book you had borrowed, the one you hadn’t cracked open since the night your… enjoyable evening with Screwllum was interrupted by the damned doctor you had been forced to accommodate. What if you never saw him again… what if he never got to talk to you about the book? You internally shook your head, focusing again on Wen Shiling in front of you. Aeons, if only you could have a drink to take the edge off…

“I don’t want him back… he’s stupid!” she sobbed again. You tried not to cringe at the snot covering the sleeves of her dress, forcing yourself to focus on her words, “He doesn’t talk to me and then disappears…! I don’t even want him here!”

“I’m sure he was just busy,” you attempt to soothe the girl, cursing the Aeons for failing to give you skills in soothing children. Deciding your ability to comfort children was lacking, you decided to only logically thing you could do was change your tone to match your usual personality, “You know, once we get him back I’m sure he’ll be sorry for how he treated you. That’ll serve him right, huh?.”

“He’ll be sorry?” she echoed your words, blinking dumbly up at you. You nodded in encouragement, hoping that you finally found some method to calm her crying. You forced yourself to plaster the a smile on your face, as if everything was fine and you weren’t currently feeling like death from a hangover and dealing with the aftermath of another invasion and your alcohol problem all at the same time. 

“Of course! Im sure we can even make him take an afternoon off his stupid ecology research,” you said with smirk, happy to at least let your genuine thoughts shine through for a moment before the inevitable hours of seriousness ahead, “I heard he’s horrible at board games, we could force him to play one beat him to a pulp.”

Wen Shiling smiled a bit, though her frown returned soon after, “Big sis… Can I ask you something? But you have to tell me the truth.”

Feeling like you were getting the farthest using your typical personality, you let your genuine thoughts ring through in your answer “Sure, I’m not a liar,” you shrugged, crossing your arms over your chest, “what’s up?”

“…” she hesitated for a moment before speaking, “Do you really think Adler is okay? … You think we’ll find him?” You stared at her for a moment, taking in her big brown tearful eyes and the snotty sleeves on her dress, an expression mixed with hopefulness and worry plastered all over her features. You forced a confident smirk on your face, placing your hands on your hips in mock confidence.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.” 

It wasn’t your first time lying to a kid, and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last either. 

~~~~

Your head continued to pound as the elevator descended, countless sounds filling your head. Arlan’s yelling… Wen Shiling’s crying… it all fluttered around your brain like snow, casting an endless stream of emotions on your already overwhelmed brain. Your mind drifted to your water bottle which you knew sat on your desk in your room… would Arlan even know if you took a sip from it… He couldn’t right? How would he? There was no way he could actually expect to accurately record your sobriety, you thought to yourself. No, you just had to be sneaky with it - a few sips here and there to quell your thoughts… thats all you would need… just something to take the edge off. Even the thought of the alcohol seemed to quiet your brain, like a blanket may drive off heat on a cold night. If you were in your right mind, maybe you would realize how worrisome your thoughts truly were… but right now you really didn’t care.

“When an elevator arrives at its destination, you are expected to dismount it,” you blinked back into focus at the familiar irritating voice, eyes falling on to the Doctor. Dressed in his usual clothes, though lacking his alabaster head, he stared at you with a raised eyebrow, as if you were some sort of unusual specimen in his lab. In all honesty, you couldn’t blame him. You hadn’t even realized your elevator had arrived at the floor with everyone’s personal quarters, too caught up in your thoughts to notice, which left you standing blankly forward despite the door already having opened. 

“And when someone doesn’t get out, you’re expected to politely address them, not be a snarky asshole,” you shot back, forcing yourself to leave the elevator. Not ready to end the conversation, but not wanting the elevator to go away, the Doctor stepped inside, pressing the door open button.

“Your insults lack creativity when you are hung over,” he deadpanned, sighing - whether in disappointment or disgust, you didn’t know, “I suppose it doesn’t matter. I was looking for you, you need to come with me.”

You rose an eyebrow at the Doctor, “Uh, kinda in the middle of trying to solve a crisis right now,” you deadpanned, “I’m sure you’ve heard about it… ya know, missing researchers, faulty security system. Don’t really have time for whatever bullshit you’re up to right now.”

“You wound me,” he states, though his face shows no sign of any emotion, “Since when do I act without purpose?” He looked at you with disgust, as if he was shocked at the suggestion, “Of course I am aware of the current predicament and I wish to help you.” 

You cock an eyebrow at him, arms crossed in front of your chest, “And why would you do that exactly? What’s in it for you?” skepticism dripped from your tone, a fact that you knew was all too apparent for the Doctor, who met your gaze defiantly, “Literally all you’ve done since getting here is be a pain in the ass and then almost get me killed - your actions don’t really scream helpful.”

“I seem to recall I was helpful enough in procuring wine for you and allowing you to sleep in my presence,” he smirked cockily, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead, “Or do actions such as those not qualify as helpful in your dictionary?”

“The only thing that helped with is getting me chewed out by my boss, so thanks for that I guess, what a help you are,” you rolled your eyes, tempted to walk away, but for some reason forcing yourself to stay put, “I don’t know what the hell was in that wine you gave me, but I swear I’m not usually that… clingy.” You thought you should say more, but chose to stay silent deciding you already made enough of a fool of yourself, “Honestly I don’t even remember most of the shit I did last night.”

“Alcohol interferes with one’s ability to form long term memories, such a fact is really not suprising,” he said matter-of-factly, a cocky smirk coating his features. You barley knew this man, but he seemed to always revel in the ability of making people feel dumb, “Luckily for you, I retained my own memory of the evening, if you wish to recall more.”

“I’d rather not learn more things Arlan can yell at me about, thanks,” you huffed, forcing the conversation back to its original topic, “So really, why do you wanna help me? What’s in it for you?”

“Many things really,” he said casually, finger still firmly pressing the open button on the elevator door, “The satisfaction of helping idiots some a simple problem, the joy of reuniting the researchers with their companions… or the pleasure of building a diplomatic relationship between the IPC and the Space Station as I was directed.”

“Should’ve known of course it was about the diplomacy,” you smirked at him, propping an arm next to the elevator door, “You clearly wouldn’t act kindly on your own accord. Got your own boss who you’re afraid will chew you out like mine?”

The Doctor’s face soured at the mention of a boss, “I’d rather not think of my acquaintances at the IPC, they are not the most fond people to be around.” The scowl on his face made you interested in learning more, but the Doctor was quick to change the subject, “I merely offered my assistance to Miss Asta and she accepted. The mere certitude that doing so will satisfy my companions is simply a bonus.”

“Whatever, I don’t care if Asta got you to help, I have my own work to do,” you brushed him off, turning to move away from the elevator. You were startled when a firm hand grasped your arm, preventing you from leaving. The Doctor’s skin was warm, radiating heat through Screwllum’s dress shirt. His touch mass you freeze in your tracks, glancing over your shoulder at the Doctor. 

“I’m not asking you,” he said plainly, as if disgusted that you hadn’t picked up on that sooner, “You prescene has been requested.” You felt mesmerized for a moment by his presence, the scent of his cologne filling your nose due to your close proximity. His golden eyes seemed to bore into you, as if staring into your soul. It was the first time you really took in how… handsome he looked. Of course you had noticed before… you had eyes of course, but something about how he looked at you now seemed to awaken something within you, something you were desperate to push away, while at the same time wanting to cling on to it. 

Snapping into your senses, you yank your hand from his, crossing it over your chest once more, “Requasted by who?”

“Hmmm what was the word you used for it again?” The Doctor’s hand, now free from holding your wrist, went to his chin in contemplation, “Ah yes, that’s it. A situationship. Screwllum requested your prescene.” With his other hand, he let go of open door button, allowing the door to close behind him, “We’ll see you in the Seclusion Zone.”

[i-magines]

Wildest Dreams: Chapter 2

Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6 | CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 8 | CHAPTER 10

synopsis: You’re an assistant director in an indie movie set and fate makes sure you keep crossing paths with a certain Chilean actor.  

disclaimer: This is my first Pedro Pascal’s fictional work + the first fanfic I write in English, as it isn’t my first language. Unfortunately, I do not own Pedro and this is all a product of my imagination.

rating: M (keep scrolling if your under 18 please)

warnings: age gap, mature content, fem!reader, drinking and mention of drugs, eventual smut but no actual smut so far, a bit slow burn but not really.  

word count: 1,803

You woke up next morning feeling tired and still a little bit overwhelmed. Pedro really was a gentleman and minded his own business, so did you. You’re not sure at what time he had woken up, but you could hear the shower running. You quickly changed into working clothes and went to have breakfast, trying to avoid any weird interactions with him. Again.

The hotel was very busy and the whole crew was meeting in the conference room. You got together with the directing team and briefly discussed your tasks for the day. You couldn’t help but watch Pedro closely as he joined the room, saying a happy good morning to everyone. He shaked hands with a few people and grabbed a cup of coffee. The producer asked everybody to be silent.

“Morning, everyone”, she started. “As I’m sure you’re all aware of already, we had a problem with the accommodation situation. Last night I tried to make some calls, but I do have to formally apologize to everybody, because I won’t be able to solve this.”

Everybody in the room just stared at her.

“There’s a conference happening in the city and the hotel fucked us over with overbooking and they got here first”, she explained, clearly a little mad. “If you have your schedule, you can check we’re only staying here for a couple more nights, so I would appreciate it if we could just make a team effort for now.”

She got a piece of paper and a pen. “If anybody wants to be rearranged with a different roommate, let me know.”

Pedro crossed eyes with you and offered a smile. You looked away, feeling shy. There was something about him that just made you feel like a scared little girl that needed to protect herself. You didn’t really see him much during the rest of the day. The schedule showed he was supposed to spend the whole day rehearsing and you were busy with other directing matters. You were very worried about doing a good job and it was starting to get to you. The director wasn’t a bad person, but you could see he didn’t have any time to lose. So you had to hold back your tears when he was a bit harsh after you got confused with the order of the scenes shooting. Once they let you know you were off duty, you walked straight to your room, feeling like shit.

As soon as the door closes behind you, you let out a deep breath. “Fuck me, man.”

“Won’t you pay me dinner first?” you heard a husky voice. It was Pedro, laying on the bed and browsing through his phone.

“Ha-ha”, you fake laughed. You stared at each other for a moment, before both of you let out a big, honest laugh. “As if, old man.”

He sat down, looking at you.

“What a first day, uh?”

“Don’t get me started” you replied as you threw your body on the chair. “Did you ask for a new room?”

“Trying’ to get rid of me, sweetheart?” He was being playful. You shaked your shoulders. “No, I didn’t. I’ll just go with it, if it’s okay with you.”

“Sure, you’re the star. Whatever goes by you, goes by me”, you gave him a soft smile. 

He seemed like such a down to Earth and nice guy, at the same time, he also knew all damn well how charming he was.

“Not trying to be a creep old man—”

“Oh God, what a way to start a sentence”, you both laughed.

“I’m going out to grab some drinks with some friends,” he said. “I was just wondering if you’d like to join us. Professionally speaking”.

You stopped to think. That is literally the main reason you accepted this job, to improve your networking in the industry. It’s all about that and the sooner you get your name going out there, the better gigs you would land in the future.

“You do know I’m literally nobody, right?” You stated, making him frown.

“I do know there are a lot of famous douche people out there, thinking they are crème de la crème”, he said. “Well, that’s not me. I have no fucking clue who you are, sweetheart, and I trully don’t give a shit about it. You seem like a cool, good girl. And if we are really doing this, you’ll have to drop it”.

“I’m sorry— I just had a tough start today”, you said, full of sincerity. “I always feel like I’m walking on a wire in this industry, it makes me anxious.”

“I totally get it”, he stared deep into your eyes. “I won’t lie, it’s tough. But I’m being 100% honest here, there’s people that are actually just really nice folks to have around and you seem like one of those”.

They sure knew how to have a good time in Berlin. You sneaked out of the hotel with Pedro and got a cab to what seemed like a pub on the ground floor and a nightclub underground. You joined a couple of friends of him, got some drinks and just talked for a couple of hours. His friends were super sweet with you and it was just great to hang out with people who already went through starting a career and all of that. They were all older than you and sometimes you would feel a bit out of place, but Pedro was making sure to keep you in the conversation at all times.

“I’m having a really great time”, you told Pedro once his friend went dancing. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“I’m glad you came”, he replied close to your ear, as he was resting one of his arms on your shoulders. “You good?”

“Pretty good, sir”, you gave him a smile. You were feeling a little tipsy from the alcohol, and you could see he was too. “Do you want to dance?”

“Sure, I’m going to get us some more drinks and I’ll meet you there”, he squeezed your arm briefly before moving away.

You went downstairs by yourself and the loud electronic music was everything you were able to hear. You tried to look for Pedro’s friends, but they weren’t anywhere to be found. As you were waiting for Pedro, a blond guy approached you, trying to get you to dance with him. He was about your own age, not bad looking at all, but you weren’t in the mood. At least not with him, you thought to yourself. He pulled his body closer to yours, holding your waist.

“Thanks. I’m waiting for my friend”, you let him know, trying to get away from his grip.

“C’mon baby”, he was way too close for your taste.

“I don’t want you to touch me” you pushed him away.

Before anyone could say or do anything else, Pedro appeared out of nowhere. He handed you your drink and took a sip of his own glass.

“Would you mind if I tell you to fuck off boy?” You have never seen that look of anger in Pedro’s eyes before.

“I didn’t know your daddy was here princess”, the blond guy looked at both of you. “It’s just a matter of taste, I guess.”

You opened your mouth to probably call him all names, but Pedro held your hand and pulled you to the middle of the dance floor. He held your body close to his.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have left you alone”, he whispers close to your ear. “What an asshole.”

“I really appreciate you standing up for me”, you whispered back, your lips touching his ear, causing him to get chills. You suddenly felt thirsty and drank your entire drink in one huge sip. “I couldn’t find your friends.”

“They left, I got their text when I was at the bar”, he looks deeply into your eyes. “Do you wanna head out too?”

“Sure.”

He held your hand as he guided you out of there. The air was a bit chilly, but the street was busy and full of people. He let go of you to light a cigar.

“Do you smoke?” He asked you.

“Smoke what?”

“Got it. Oh, you bad girl”, he laughs playfully. “You should’ve said something, I have some good stuff back in the hotel.”

You didn’t have time to reply as a group of girls recognized and approached him. You stood there for what felt like forever, while he was being the sweetest human being with his fans. Every couple of minutes, he would look at you, making sure you’re still waiting for him. You heard them inviting him to an after party, to what he politely said no.

“Would you mind getting us an Uber, sweetheart?” Pedro had to speak a little louder for you to hear him and you felt like everyone around him just stared at you. You just nodded. “Oh, guys, this is my colleague, Y/N. We’re working on a new project together.”

Colleague. You didn’t know why, but it felt weird for you to hear him referring to you like this. Is this strictly professional? For a second, back inside the club, you thought— well, never mind. You got an Uber and he said his goodbyes to his group of fans. You both sat in complete silence on the backseat of the car.

“What was fun, right?” He gave you a warm smile, placing his arm on your shoulder. “I can’t lie, I kinda love the recognition of the fans.”

You moved your head, affirmatively.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He sounded worried.

“Yes, just tired”, you said half-true.

Why the fuck were you upset he called you his college? That’s literally what you are. Sure you had flirted with him sometimes, but he did say this was a professional invite. You didn’t want to be that person who can’t just be treated with kindness without expecting anything else. Pedro was charming, good-looking and apparently an amazing friend and human being. Who also happens to be almost double your age and hot as hell. You could only blame the alcohol in your body for making you think such things.

You got back to the hotel room, the dizziness at its full peak for both of you.

“I don’t think I’m capable of taking a shower in these conditions”, you said as you jumped in bed. Pedro laughed behind you, doing the same.

“You could use one, though”, he teased you. You gave his arm a light slap. “I’m keeping you real, sweetheart.”

“Fuck you, Pedro.”

“I’m too drunk to fuck anything to be honest”, you both laughed and the room went quiet for a couple of minutes.

“Guess it’s better this way”, you whispered, aware that he could hear it as well.

CHAPTER 3 AVALIABLE NOW

[writtenbyshama]

Long Way Home [Part VII]

[Azriel x Reader fanfic]

Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 1 here.

Read Part 2 here.

Read Part 3 here.

Read Part 4 here.

Read Part 5 here.

Read Part 6 here.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Part VII

My mind was still fighting the wine induced muddle, trying to grasp the fact that Azriel was really here. My body though, acted on a reflex. I had repacked the basket, rolled the mat and was out of the clearing before he opened his mouth to speak. I heard nothing but the gush of blood into my head, and I quickly went inside and locked the door of the main entrance. 

I didn't know what to think. Azriel had come here. He had come to a place which was unknown to everyone but me and father. 

The mat and the basket slipped from my hands and thumped on the wooden floor. The cloak was halfway down my shoulders as I pressed myself against the door, parting the curtain of the window adjacent to it to see if he was outside. 

He was. 

There was a verandah extending from the front door with a wrap-around porch. The roof over the verandah was held upright by two carved pillars, and Azriel was sitting down and leaning back against one of them. His head was turned the other way, watching the stars still falling. 

His usual leathers were absent; in their place was a black shirt and pair of black trousers. The buttons of the shirt glinted in the light like gemstones. His hair was ruffled, silver jewellery adorned his neck and hands. He was the still the most beautiful fae I had ever laid my eyes on, and the mating bond within me flared to life for a moment and tugged painfully. 

I wanted nothing but to open the door, walk out and hold him. 

The sensible part of me held me in check. Even though he was supposed to be my mate, he had given me nothing but pain until now, and I couldn't let go of it that easily. I clamped down on the bond, let the curtain fall back and went upstairs to my bed. 

The entry of my room's balcony was set with French windows, and its curtains were always parted to let in the scenery. The sky was still lit, but fading as the event was coming to an end. This was the second time since that night when I cried myself to sleep. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The next day, I found a note on the kitchen table. It was my father's handwriting, with two words on it. 

I'm sorry.

Well, that solved the mystery of how Azriel came to know about this place. It didn't matter. I was not angry. I was not sad. I was empty, tired. The spark of feeling in me had withered and I had no idea how to revive it. 

In the days that followed, Azriel made a habit of lingering. I noticed him flying in at dusk, possibly after finishing his duties. He never imposed himself on me, he was just...there. 

As I moved inside, he followed from outside. The porch around the villa had a thick, low wall for comfortable seating which he took advantage of. Every room I was in the ground floor, I could see him out the window, seated on the porch wall. He was in his usual leathers and cloak, and I could see the dim light emanating from his chest and the back of his hands. His head was always turned the other way, as if he was looking out, but I knew he watched me when I wasn't looking at him. 

I let him be. I didn't want to talk to him, let alone argue and send him away.

He perched on the balcony wall when I was in my bed, and the only room he couldn't look into was the bathroom. However, I could see him from the window, on the porch railing directly underneath it. 

As it was, he was comfortable. He had his cloak to protect himself from the cold, and I'm sure he ate during the day. 

He was waiting for me to willingly let him in. And for that, I hoped he had the patience of a saint because this wasn't going to be easy.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Tags:

@kalulakunundrum @thelov3lybookworm @hnyclover @impossibelle @sourapplex @brujitafantomatico @venuseuripedis @darling006

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 8 here.

This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home

Happy reading! <3

[reintarou]

☀️ How would {…} comfort you after a long day?

♡︎. Characters: Jiro, Ichiro, Hifumi, Jakurai

♡︎. Tags: Comfort

♡︎. Other: Sorry for a bit of inactivity! I was contemplating a little about the ways I want to write these. I decided to split it into little headcanons based on prompts like these and short fanfics based on scenarios! If you have any requests, whether it's just a specific character you want me to write about, or if it's a prompt/scenario idea, feel free to message me! I will update my profile soon, but for prompts like these, I will use a ☀️ in the title, and for scenarios I'll use 🌑, so it's easy to distinguish them!

──────────────────────────────────────

Yamada Jiro

▸ He would be slightly slow to notice that something is wrong. He’s able to read people, he doesn’t want to misread them though. ▸ As soon as he noticed though, he would try to ask you what’s wrong, without pressuring you for answers. He respects your privacy, and he knows a thing or two about not prying into somebody’s business. ▸ If you gave him an answer, he would try to help out, even though he’s not the best with words. His advice could be slightly vague or not very helpful, but you appreciate his effort no matter what. ▸ If you refused to answer, he wouldn’t be upset with you. Instead, he would invite you on the couch, and you two would sit together, cuddling up. He would turn on the football match on the TV, but his mind would be focused more on you anyways. ▸ Jiro would also lend you his shoulder to cry on, if you needed it. He would have a pack of tissues with him, always ready to wipe your tears. … He wouldn’t mind if you stained his shirt with your tears either, though.

Yamada Ichiro

▸ Ichiro was often busy with his odd jobs, but if you needed a shoulder to lean on, he’d always find a moment for you. ▸ He would be quick to notice that something was wrong, and if you didn’t feel like telling him about it, he would immediately get worried. That doesn’t mean he would get angry, though. Ichiro would be patient with you. ▸ If you told him, he would be very supportive. He would try to find a way to resolve your problem, or he’d just simply support you, if it wasn’t something that needed solving. ▸ Ichiro would also try to boost your confidence. Showering you with compliments, praising you for things that you’ve done. Somehow, his explanations would be detailed too. For him, it wasn’t much work, but he knew you appreciated those. ▸ If you felt like it, he would invite you to cuddle with him on the couch, taking snacks and watching anime. He’d try to distract you from your worries.

Izanami Hifumi

▸ Hifumi would get worried, fast. If he wasn’t in his host mode, and he noticed that you weren’t in the mood for his cheerful self, he would quickly notice that something was wrong. ▸ Since he usually worked in the evenings, he wouldn’t be able to spend the night with you, cuddling and comforting you as he loved to. ▸ But he would be willing to take a night off for you without a second thought. He always prioritized your happiness and comfort over his job. ▸ He’d prepare a warm meal for you to enjoy. After all, both of you loved his cooking, and he would always be willing to make you something if it meant it’d cheer you up. ▸ Hifumi would cuddle up in bed with you, being the big spoon. One hand gently caressing your back, his other hand softly patting your head. He’d be there, willing to listen to your troubles.

Jinguji Jakurai

▸ Jakurai could read you like an open book. He’s good at analyzing people, and seeing that you were under the weather would make him worried. ▸ He wouldn’t force you to talk, but if you felt like sharing about your problems, he’d listen, and give you advice if you need one. Jakurai would make you a warm, healthy cup of tea, to help you relax. ▸ His advice was always on point, and not difficult to follow. He knew your boundaries and abilities, and he wouldn’t wish to push you past your limits. ▸ Jakurai would comfort you in any way you like. If it was cuddles, kisses, or anything you wished for, he’d be happy to oblige.

[unsteady-calcium]

Ok, I'm mid season 7 now, and I’ve had a moment to collect my thoughts. Fair warning, this is rambling...

To me, most of seasons 6 and 7 is great actually.

I like Booth’s anger and rage. I get why people don’t, but I do. I think it’s not only understandable and in character and makes me feel empathetic towards him; I actually think it’s a damn interesting narrative choice, and makes Booth a more real character than he has been before.

And I love Brennan’s fear, too. She develops so much, and her "fall back on rationality as a defence mechanism" armour is finally starting to crack. It's damn fascinating to watch.

I like that the two of them had real, emotional, character-driven obstacles to overcome, before they can be together. And that identifying those obstacles doesn't automatically mean that they've overcome them at the same time. It stays true to their characters and the journey they’ve been on together so far, instead of some half-assed “I have to focus on Parker” or “crime solving takes up too much time to try to have relationships”, which most TV couples are reduced to when trying to keep up the tension. I love that they gradually overcame the fear and the rage, their small victories and choices adding up to something big. They rebuilt the trust and faith that has always been their bedrock. It feels like the natural conclusion of their relationship developing for years, with the highs and lows that it has been comprised of.

Granted, the writers fumbled the ball when it came to the actual emotional resolution at the end. It could, with only a few changes, have been improved by coming at the tail end of a case which forced them to confront something about their relationship. Or the bare minimum, make it more implicit how scared they were to lose each other without having even been together first. Just, you know. Any reason why it happened when it did.

But. There’s always fanfic, I guess.

What bothers me the most is actually something else.

I feel like there’s multiple seasons missing between s6 and s7. Obviously there were pregnancy factors and all that, and my heart rejoices at B&B getting the full domestic treatment. And this is hardly a novel take - everyone seems to agree. But there is so much missing before season 7, to the degree that it’s almost hard for me to believe that these are the same characters and not... Well... Pregnancy AU, 13/13 chapters, 45k words, status: complete.

Don't get me wrong: it's a damn good pregnancy AU. They deal with a lot of stuff that is very in character. And honestly? The idea that actually, once these two overcome their fears and decide to try being together, they are rock sollid? is fair. It makes sense.

But still.

They're Booth and Brennan.

They deserved a full year of Temperance “my childhood trauma made me scared of my emotions, prone to discard reasoning based on emotions, and simultaneously desperate to, and terrified of, being part of a family” Brennan.

And a full year of Seeley “my childhood trauma makes me overcommit to romantic partners way too fast and also makes me obsessed with being a Good Man who does the Right Thing regardless of what the people involved actually want or need” Booth.

They would clash at every stage. Every label, every milestone, would be rough and every victory would be a hard-won battle. Defining what they are to each other, deciding whom to tell and when and why, moving in together, overprotectiveness, independence, trust... there is something new to tackle all the damn time.

There would be so much doubt, and so much fear, because the stakes are so high. Because they are Booth and Brennan, and if they lose this, if they lose each other, they lose everything.

And, after a year of trying their damnest to figure all this out and finally getting somewhere, the prospect of an unplanned baby would crank every single aspect of it up to 11. Brennan would be terrified of that baby. Because she wants it so much, and she wants what it means in terms of starting a family. Making something permanent. She would regress into her hyper-rational persona. Their happiness would depend on Booth recognising that, putting his own feelings to the side, and helping her through it. And we know that the more emotionally invested he is, the more he struggles with exactly that...

They would need every ounce of love and support from their friends to get through it. Every bit of faith from their found family. And that would be cathartic as hell, because forming and trusting those bonds has also been a part of the journey to get to this stage.

And they would get through it for the same reason that they have gotten this far in the first place: because despite it all, Booth and Brennan help each other to find faith, and choose to trust. They give each other the strength to risk heartbreak.

They would get through it. And it would be glorious.

Then, and only then, I would like season 7 to happen exactly the way it happened.

[reizoudesu]

just a random thought... (imagine)

IMAGINE THIS: ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

LOVE can be so complicated, ever-changing. it could appear as a single stroke of the wind into a turbulent storm, or a calm wave rising into a surge to crash over cities.

you were mean, aloof, unapproachable - so icy no one dared to break through your fortress after someone had broken your heart. it resided in that thick wall, watching yourself pick up the pieces, mending through the harsh pain of heartache.

your past lover did all those things to you - it made your smile fade into a thin line of indifference, erase your kindness to rewrite disdain, changing your mind - changing you. he had seen you burn, your figure charred and disappearing into ashes. the flames were so large he refused to help you, out of fear that he could be set ablaze. the flames hurt so bad you became numb.

but not until him.

he sees you at work, in the cafeteria, around the halls where you two would pass, and even outdoors. he's seen that look you've been hiding from others. and he's dying to know why.

to him, you were an enigma. a wonderful enigma. a puzzle waiting for be solved by the right person. a riddle that could only be solved by those who dared to face divine wrath. he always loved reading people, including you. but you were different case.

with time, the two of you got along, in spite of the little banters and arguments that came along with it. still, you found yourself getting too attached and you often end up pushing him away when he wanted to talk to you personally. a heart-to-heart.

you knew it in yourself that you were capable of doing things alone, and so you continued on - but as time wore away on you, those shards of your heart eventually pierced your hands, just enough that you notice your palms bleeding red from picking them up and forcing them together without a glue.

he appeared like a dream, stepped behind you, holding your hands in a tight grip.

"y/n, please... it's time to stop."

those words... those words were foreign. it felt like a stab in the heart, but along with it comes...

...relief?

he pulled your hands away from the work you've tried so hard to recreate. it's imperfect, so imperfect you could just give up and cry.

he had nothing with him, just himself. he gazed up at you, more concerned about you than what you're trying to fix. he looked into your eyes, a genuine smile gracing his lips as the next words shocked you.

"breathe, love. let's take a moment to relax."

for the first time in a while, you felt your heart open, and a flutter as it blossomed like a rose in one rainy day. you have given him the key, and now he's here, comforting you at your lowest.

"whether you're doing anything or not, just seeing you live... is already enough for me."

SUGAWARA, DAICHI, Venti, Heizou, KAZUHA, Albedo, Kenma, THOMA, Atsushi, Ranpo + your faves~

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

©reizoudesu do not copy, steal, mark as your own work (but feel free to repost <3)

(i haven't posted in a while, huh? but really, i'm currently working on my ongoing fanfic series: "stay alive" rn, ehe~)

[incorrectsibunaquotes]

I have a theory that the reason we as an audience feel like Sibuna in Season 3b are making monumentally stupid choices is because the show doesn’t actually spell out for us that the kids don’t have all the information we have. In fact, they are operating with less than half of our knowledge. (This is gonna be a longgggg post, so read under the cut if you dare)

On my latest rewatch of S3 for fanfic purposes, i found myself really struggling to justify why the hell Eddie couldn’t put two and two together with his vision of Patricia and the “traitor” in Sibuna. I was frustrated with him because to me it was incredibly obvious! Like who else could it possibly be?? But then, I rewatched it again with a closer eye and everything suddenly clicked:

We, the audience, are watching the action from a completely zoomed out angle. We’re not just following Sibuna, but we’re also following Team Evil. We know Robert is capturing Sinners and what a Sinner actually is, before Sibuna is even fully aware that they failed to stop the eclipse ceremony. The kids metaphorically tripped at the starting line.

Furthermore, this is the first time in the show that the Sibunas have not had either the upper hand or were even on equal playing field with the adults. In Season 1, the Society was wholly unprepared for a bunch of adolescents to start foiling in their plans (bc why would they be prepared for that??), and Sibuna basically destroyed them due to adults underestimating their willingness to fuck around and find out. In Season 2, Victor/Vera and Sibuna were on equal ground; no one knew how to solve the tasks and it was a matter of a bunch of separate parties trying to figure it out before each other. They were all just throwing shit at the wall and hoping it stuck.

At the top of Season 3, we play a lot with both the S1 and S2 dynamics. At first, Sibuna is leagues and bounds ahead of the adults, and then they pretty quickly end up on the same footing. Then, in the second half of the season, that entire dynamic is flipped on its head, and it’s Sibuna who are wholly unprepared for the adults. I’ve talked about how the kids, especially our Sibuna veterans, got a little too comfortable with Victor and co’s ineptitude and cocky with their own intelligence… but that’s not even why they were so slow on the uptake.

None of the Sibunas even hear the word “Sinner” until they find that book in the secret room and read it while sitting on the stage. And the book does not explain at all what a Sinner actually is. It tells them that Ammut needs “the souls of five human sinners who embody the greatest flaws of mankind” and once she has five of them she can enter the human realm and cause lots of problems. Absolutely nowhere in the book does it ever say “Also, much like Robert, the soulless body of the Sinner is reawakened in service to the underworld.” The only other hint that could have possibly clued anyone in is “when your friends are not your friends”. But like, that clue was ages ago! Why would they even be thinking about that, when it had absolutely no bearing on their hunt for the secret room/answers up to that point? I cannot stress this enough, THEY HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO CLUE WHAT A SINNER IS! (I’m gonna repeat this sentence about 400 times in case you don’t get it now lol) Mind you, that atp in the timeline, this is approximately fifteen or so minutes before Denby captures Patricia.

But let’s rewind all the way back to when Team Evil devises a plan to kidnap Eddie. He’s in the crypt, right? It’s pretty evident to him that it was probably Denby, Victor, and/or Robert who trapped him here, but he’s got no real clue as to why. Of course, we all know that they’re planning on turning him into a Sinner, because we saw Victor get turned. But as far as Sibuna knows, Victor has never really been on their side, so all they think is that he’s being meaner than usual but of course he’s opposing them. That’s not strange.

Okay, so Eddie is stuck and distressed, but he’s not as panicked as he needs to be because nowhere in his mind does he think this could potentially end in what is essentially his death. Now, throw in the horrifying vision he has of Patricia getting dragged into a glowing sarcophagus. He still doesn’t know what a Sinner is, but he knows that whatever he just saw was really bad; it’s an incentive from the Osirian spirit (or the house, or the gods, or literally whatever) to actually try to get the hell out of there.

So we’re all sitting here watching going “Oh my god they’re gonna nab Patricia and make her evil! 😰” because we have context; Eddie has absolutely none. It’s also really important for later on that his vision ends when the sarcophagus door shuts. It’s framed as incredibly final, and for all Eddie knows, they’ve just stuffed Patricia in what he knows is a tiny cramped space and locked the door behind her. He thinks that at best they are going to kidnap her or, at worst, straight up kill her. Nothing in that vision indicates she’s walking out of there at all.

When Patricia ran off after the fake messages, Eddie is concerned for a lot of different reasons, but the two primary ones are the obvious “oh my god my girlfriend thinks I cheated on her what do I do???” and the other is “if she’s run off on her own, the adults could fulfill my vision!” But then she turns back up, which should be clear to us by now means that he thinks she’s safe. He’s waiting for her (for any of them) to disappear. But when none of them do, they think it’s fine. It’s not that Eddie doesn’t think Patricia is in danger of becoming a Sinner, he just doesn’t realize what that would actually look like.

Even when they’re all in the hallway morbidly joking about having to give up sinning, the language KT uses is telling of what they think being a Sinner means: “We don’t want to accidentally help out Team Evil [by sinning].” Of course, this statement works with the knowledge the audience has of everything, but if Sibuna actually knew what they were dealing with, KT would have said something more like “We don’t want to get captured/turned by Team Evil.” The jokes they’re making are still morbid, but because they think you just get put in the sarcophagus and that’s the end of it.

Let’s flash forward again to the phonograph getting smashed and Eddie’s second vision that prompts the witch hunt panic in the first place. The vision can be separated into three parts: 1) Eddie sees a hooded figure smash the phonograph (okay Sibuna already knows someone did it on purpose, not too crazy); 2) Robert approaches him creepily and has the mic-drop moment of “it was one of your little friends; you have a viper in your nest” (seriously what a raw line of dialogue… but also now Eddie is being told that there is a traitor. Pretty cut and dry); 3) he turns around and sees every other member of Sibuna mockingly throw up the Sibuna sign (uh oh!)

So here is where people (including me!) always got a little annoyed with Eddie for not doing the math. But upon several rewatches and actually listening to what everyone was saying, never once do any of the kids ever bring up the word “Sinner” during the entirety of this whodunnit arc. And that’s simply because it’s not even a thought that crosses their minds. The language they use is very telling: “traitor” and “betrayal” being the heavy hitters. If any of them actually had context for what was actually going on, the language they would be using would be more like “victim” or literally just “Sinner” as a noun. But they don’t, which is why they’re so hostile toward one another… and why KT was screwed from the moment Eddie had that vision.

Because the fact that they don’t know that a Sinner is an evil version of themselves (not just someone whose soul is being used as a power generator), means that on a subconscious level Fabian, Alfie, and even Eddie already assumed KT was guilty. And Sinner!Patricia knew that, and that’s why she was so easily able to pivot and pin it on her. KT was directly linked to Frobisher, and Fabian and Alfie had already been suspicious of her at the start of the season for other reasons. It’s why Fabian let Patricia help him with the finger printing in the first place: because he doesn’t believe it’s her. And Eddie would have no real reason to suspect Patricia for three reasons: 1) Because he’s in love with her; 2) Because he knows just how long Patricia (and Fabian, and Alfie) have been loyal to Sibuna and to each other; 3) Because he, like everyone else, was looking at this betrayal as a willing capitulation to the Team Evil.

The first time Sibuna becomes aware that a Sinner is an entity that they have to actually watch out for walking about (as opposed to just having to watch out becoming), is after KT and Harriet manage to escape Patricia in the Gatehouse. Harriet clearly knows what a Sinner is bc she has the presence of mind to actually explain (vaguely, of course, because she’s drugged to kingdom come) to KT what she’d just narrowly escaped.

And then when she confronts Sibuna and Patricia in the hallway after Miss Crocodile Tears is telling tales about KT trying to kidnap her, KT drops the bomb on the boys: “She was trying to make me a Sinner just like her!” Pause. Record scratch. Okay. Now everything they thought they knew about the situation is completely recontextualized as something much more sinister than what they initially thought. Because I’d always struggled with how cruel they were being to KT, especially if they thought it wasn’t her fault. But everything up until this point deeply suggests or rather expects us to understand that Sibuna only had two pieces of an 100 piece puzzle, and that them being mean to KT was because they thought she actually betrayed them.

With all of this in mind, Eddie is not stupid for not figuring it out right away. In fact, without knowing what a Sinner actually is, it would be an insane leap to assume Patricia had anything to do with the phonograph.

I’ve basically talked myself and all of you in several circles, but the bottom line is the show didn’t do a fabulous job of telling us that Sibuna had no clue what they were up against. It’s easy for us to sit back and go “what the hell is wrong with them are they stupid?” because we have all the knowledge of what’s going on eons before they do. This is a far more charitable read of the characters’ choices and thought process, and the only way any of their actions make any sense. In fact, this is less of a theory and more of what is… literally canon, I guess

[camcat1320]

Spoilers for my fanfic, Book 4: Air, the Missing Element.

Zuko and Iroh were honeypotted! 🍯 🐝

(Jinko fans are going to hate me for this one)

If you don't know, honeypot or trap is a term used for secret operatives that intentionally try to sway a target under their influence, perhaps bribe or blackmail them into spilling intel.

The policy of Ba Sing Se is to keep the utopian peace in check, an isolationist idea. Long Feng kept files on everyone, including withholding letters that were addressed to Team Avatar. I like to imagine that Long Feng knew of Zuko and Iroh, but chose to solve the problem quietly, perhaps viewing the two as potential assets.

Jet comes barreling in, screaming about the two being firebenders. The Dai Li have orders to watch and survey the targets, trying to watch for nefarious activity and to figure out what they can use to bribe them. Jet throws a monkey wrench into the situation, causing a disturbance and mentioning the war. They quickly arrest Jet, knowing that he is telling the truth but they have other plans for the two.

Shortly after, Jin appears.

She visits the tea shop a lot apparently. Zuko tells his uncle that they have a problem and that someone is onto them. He says that the girl knows they are Fire Nation. Iroh shrugs it off and teases that she seems to have a crush on Zuko. Shortly after officially meeting, she asks him on a date.

While on the date, she is asking a lot of questions. The first 2 seem innocent enough but asking about where they lived before or why they were traveling are good questions for intel. I bet Jin knows that Zuko is lying because he is a terrible liar. Then when she asked about if he juggled, lying again. She comes off as sweet and cute but her challenging him to juggle was a way to catch him in a lie.

So far, her attempts at getting any intel out of Zuko hasn't been successful. So she tries to get personal, showing him her supposed favorite place in the city. It just so happens to be a fountain that normally has lit lanterns, a perfect task for any firebender to resolve. I bet the lanterns were purposefully blown out prior to this, making it a test/trap for Zuko. If Jin is successful at creating a sort of bond with Zuko, he would do this one small thing for her. And he does.

She knows he's a firebender but she acted like she was amazed and surprised. Also, look at that face as she tucks her hair behind her ear. Those lowered eyelids speaks, "I got you now sucker. Now to seal the deal." So she goes for the kiss but is interrupted by Zuko shoving a coupon in her face. Then she tries again and he kisses her back. But then he quickly pulls away to Jin's surprise. All we get is "it's complicated", so vague and it's left to the audience to interpret what is happening in his mind.

The honey trap was deemed unsuccessful with the teenage boy.

But Iroh is another story.

Honey traps don't always have to be romantic in nature. They can also be financial incentives. So here comes another secret operative, a wealthy businessman.

He first flatters Iroh, using words such as "genius" and "incredible". Funny that he uses the word "buzzing" 🍯🐝 Then the man flaunts his wealth with his clothing and sparkly jewelry. Then he presents him with an offer that is hard to refuse- his own tea shop!

Having a tea shop is Iroh's dream, this information being gathered during the Dai Li's surveillance. He further sweetens the deal with offering a new apartment in the upper ring and that he has complete creative freedom. And look how they drew the businessman in this frame. He just looks like a villain.

Iroh was successfully honey trapped.

It makes sense to bring an intel asset closer to the upper ring of the city so it's easier to keep tabs on them and easier to reel them into striking a deal. Now if it wasn't for Azula entering the game, I imagine Long Feng would've invited them to serve tea at the palace and end up making a deal for Iroh and Zuko to give intel that could help the Earth Kingdom win the war. But then Team Avatar ruined Long Feng's plans.

So sorry if you like this part of Zuko and Iroh's story and if I ruined the wholesomeness for you. In my research for writing Book 4, I've realized that the majority of ATLA focuses on the nature of duality, of yin and yang. People who are seemingly innocent can be sinister such as Jet and Hama and I believe Jin can also be included in this group- If we had a Book 4 that is.

Sorry Jinko shippers. I'm a Zutara shipper and I thought Jinko was a cute secondary option. If this spoils that ship, I'm sorry but it makes for great storytelling!

[changbokkii]

𝐌𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬

(𝐀/𝐍: there will be a part 2 I think maybe a part 4 because Idek but I’m going to make it different scenarios and stuff like that)

Summary: you are dating a psychotic menace and a smartass manipulator at the same time (they both know about it dw 😉)

Word Count: 413 words

LOVE YOU ALL AND THANKS FOR THE SUPPORT ON GETTING MY WATTPAD ACCOUNT BACK I APPRECIATE IT SO MCH ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️!!

Sincerely, Valentine ★!

What you have never expected from Niragi or even Chishiya is that they would share you. Niragi never liked to share. What was his was his, no one could take that away from him.

Same with Chishiya who especially didn't like to share. But though the affection was nice and all there was still a problem: Niragi and Chishiya didn't like each other.

To solve that problem you had a schedule that you could spend time with both of them. Niragi had you during the afternoon and evening. Chishiya had you in the morning and night.

If you saw one another somewhere at the beach you would hug them and talk for a bit. You'll see Niragi and the other militants at the beach parties during your time with Chishiya when you two would go together most of the time with Kuina. But during your time with Niragi you'll see Chishiya with Kuina (Most of the time) or by himself observing some of the other citizens of the beach.

EVENINGS WITH NIRAGI:

•ALWAYS has a hand on your waist

•never leaves your side

• “Stay close to me okay babe? I don’t trust these fuckers…”

•has his rifle in his hand at all times (just in case yk)

•rough, passionate, deep kisses

•hanging out with the militants

•sitting on his lap

•glares at anyone who looks at you funny

• “watcha looking at bitch!?”

•hands roam around your thighs when you guys are sitting down

•would sneak off to his room and do the if yk yk

NIGHTTIME WITH CHISHIYA

•acts like a baby and won't let go of you

•cuddles you all night

•is a light sleeper so he instantly wakes up when you try to get up

• "where are you going?”

• “No you’re staying with me.”

•he secretly enjoys you playing with your hair but says he hates it

•during you’re time together you make sure to do his eyeliner

•you go to the rooftop and watch the other members at the beach party while you two talk about anything

•you guys go to a game just for fun

•soft, loving, quick kisses 🤭🤭

•if you two do the the thing…you guys probably won’t stop until 2 in the morning (probably the same with Niragi but Chishiya probably has more stamina)

(A/N: I hope you enjoyed this I was trying to make this a fanfic but it turned out to be headcannons instead. I’ll try to make a fanfic out no promises 😔😔)

[sea-buns]

not really, but I suppose that’s just a difference of opinion. I do think that gorgug’s nightmare sequence was one of the weakest, especially with how it shifted topics (being dead, small spaces, not being able to escape a stereotype, because if any of these had been expanded on that would’ve been great), but I do think a lot of gorgug’s character revolves around feeling in-between, or too much one thing and not another and trying to close that gap. The best one for me was deffo the sphinx tho, I interpreted it as not *just* about him being dumb, but rather like. You’re big and dumb and strong and your main job is getting angry and hitting shit with an axe. You went to a community of gnomes and they gave you a better axe, and you loved it. You are uniquely dumb, unlike those who have come before you, because you cannot solve a specific kind of puzzle while a sphinx talks at you. You are the reason your parents cut contact, and from the beginning you were unsuited for their home. Your extended family predicted that you would grow to know only rage, and here you are, a barbarian. You, from this perspective, are not proving them wrong.

I do think that that whole sequence does reveal that he’s afraid of like. Being that stereotype? And then going yeah sure I’m stupid eat me, then moving forward and clawing your way into understanding anyways

Ahhh I see. Yeah I think I did misunderstand your first ask a bit lol

I did really love a lot of the topics his sequence brought up. Like I've read some incredibly well-written fanfics that covered the ways that claustrophobia, and imposter syndrome, and being dead have affected him. But like you said, if they had just honed in on at least one, rather than hopping back and forth, it could have done so much for that section. Cuz, personally, I don't feel like we saw Gorgug be significantly affected by any of those. At least not in a way that felt complete and satisfying.

I really like what you said about his character being "in-between". I totally agree. Kinda circles back to how his parents trying to help him calm his rage was actually stifling him.

Your family needs you to calm down; you've broken another bedchairdoorappliance. Your teacher wants you to rage; he says anger is good but you don't understand. You sing to try and calm yourself, you're always trying to be kind to others; they only use it to hurt you more and all you can do is get angry back. Your friends need you to rage. You don't have the power to protect them socially, but this you can do. You try not to rage outside of a fight, but.... they don't seem to be that bothered when you do. In fact, you watch them provoke physical confrontation when they're mad on many occasions.

(Oops dipped a biiiit into the pot of how important friendship is to his character. Did not mean to lol it's just one of my fav things about him so it's kinda subconscious I guess)

But yeah! He's also in such a limbo this season as well! You can't do this you're too angry, you're not smart enough for that, you don't rage right.

Also realllyy like your interpretation of his trial. The angle you described it at was really interesting.

I don't think stereotype is the right word, though. I would say... he's afraid of becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy? I'm assuming based on your own "stereotype?" that you weren't sure about the word either.

I don't think Gorgug is, or would ever be, afraid of being a "stereotype". Like I don't think he gives a shit about the stereotype that orcs/half-orcs/barbarians only know anger and destruction. I think he's afraid of being a self-fulfilling prophecy of all the things people say that he is. Stupid, mindless, destructive, etc. To pull from what you said here (which it wont let me copy paste on mobile god fucking damnit)

"Your extended family predicted that you would grow to know only rage, and here you are, a barbarian. You, from this perspective, are not proving them wrong."

"Stereotype" for sure applies to his racist extended family. They fucking breathe stereotypes like oxygen. But the bit where his afraid of becoming what everyone says he is, I think "self-fulfilling prophecy" suits that much better. He believes he can be more than that, he knows he can, but it doesn't change the fact that they are technically right.

Okay and the giving in but then "clawing your way into understanding anyways" actually goes so hard lol. Anon, you are so right. From that pov, it's not so much a give up as it is an acknowledgment before he essentially puts the subject on ice.

Rings back a bit to the start of fhjy to me. That dread of seeing the email of school starting back up again, and the terrible sinking pit in your stomach of avoidance, because the time has come to really unpack all that. There was something specific Zac said in his little Gorgug recap before the season started that was about, like, the dread of having to figure out who the fuck you're gonna be when everyone around you seems to have their shit together. That. That hit hard lmao but the experience that he's covered is very true to Gorgug, I think.

I totally misunderstood your first ask! Though I'm happy you sent another cuz I understand a lot better, I think. And tbh I've never had the opportunity to discuss that section of fantasy high with anyone? I wasn't on tumblr or watching d20 when it first aired so I missed these specific topics. Always been v interested in what others thought of his part. Maybe I should put the vods on in the bg next time I'm play sdv. Give em a relisten. And man. The fact that I'm out here quoting your message brings me back to english class so hard. Shocked I don't hate it. Actually having a topic you give half a shit about does wonders huh lmao

Thanks for the ask! You have altered my perspective and I appreciate it. It's like how sometimes you gotta read something out loud to understand it. If all I have is the walls of my own skull, I can only get so far.

[bildad-the-shuhite-official]

Hurt/Comfort fanfic recommendations

A late night by wilywitchwahoo G, 400 words, h/c, insecure aziraphale, crying Crowley comforts his sad angel.

Your warmth is all I have by katterv T, 900 words, physical injury, mild blood, (gorgeous) fanart included Aziraphale is hurt, unconscious and so, so cold. Crowley hates it.

Morning Glory by HopeCoppice T, 1k, hurt/comfort, gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia, genderfluid crowley, fem-presenting Crowley, insecurity, body image Crowley wakes early; Aziraphale watches him worry.

Your Effervescent Tears Cleanse My Core by TotallySnowy G, 1.1k, panic attacks, cuddling, aziraphale needs a hug It all started on a rather normal day in southeastern Londen, at specifically 4:05 AM in the morning, Aziraphale awoke with a start. Very, very peculiar for an angel, lest a nobel one at that. What was even more peculiar is that Aziraphale could feel his face become flushed. Quite peculiar indeed.

Evening Star by HopeCoppice T, 1.6k, insecurity, body dysmorphia, hurt/comfort, cuddling, non sexual intimacy, non sexual nudity Aziraphale seems reluctant to join Crowley in bed, and Crowley is determined to get to the bottom of it.

All Good Hearts are Heavy by Sarah_hadeschild G, 1.8k, depression, depressed crowley, fluff, hurt/comfort, protective aziraphale Crowley has always dealt with bouts of depression-- periods in which he cannot bring himself to do much more than exist. Over the centuries, he grew accustomed to enduring these episodes on his own. But now, Aziraphale is with him. And although the angel cannot miracle away his lover's distress, he can try the only remedy he knows with any certainty. He can love him.

Counting on your love by that_angels_demon T, 2.2k, insecure Aziraphale, body dysmorphia, kissing, making out, asexual relationship, non-sexual intimacy Having finally confessed their feelings for each other after the (almost) Apocalypse, Crowley and Aziraphale explore the physicality they've always craved. But when long-internalized insecurities come to light, Aziraphale isn't so sure his demon will want this after all…

crack me open, feel me shatter by rattatatosk T, 2.7k, nightmares, Crowley’s fall, body horror, hurt/comfort Crowley dreams of the Fall. Aziraphale is there to catch him when he wakes.

To Exist and Love by IneffableDoll T, 3.1k, hurt/comfort, acephobia, asexuality, south downs cottage, hurt crowley, ace affirming, fluff Crowley runs into someone who says some bigoted nonsense about the asexual nature of his and Aziraphale’s relationship. It leaves him fuming, so when he returns home to his angel, they talk through it and navigate the complex feelings and hurts the interaction brings up. Basically: A very ace-affirming spite fic.

Flight and Fight by Phantom531 T, 3.3k, panic attack, post season 2, hurt aziraphale, angry crowley, hurt/comfort, angst Aziraphale has a panic attack and reaches for the only person he ever needed. Unfortunately, Crowley is still REALLY angry.

Crossfire by NuriaSchnee M, 4.7k, locked, post Armageddon’t, love confessions, hurt/comfort, showering together, non-sexual intimacy, first kiss In which a shower can solve 6000 years of secrets and misunderstandings. Or: Aziraphale finally breaks down at Crowley's flat and Crowley takes care of him.

I Forgive You by Sparkling12 M, 6.3k, post season 2, hurt Aziraphale, aftermath of torture, hurt/comfort, love confessions, bathing, cuddling Crowley taking care of his traumatised angel, while plotting revenge on Metatron. Part of a series: -  I Forgive You

Come as you are by fruitygoblin M, 10k, body dysmorphia, insecurity, wall sex Aziraphale visits a modern art gallery, goes on a diet, and submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known. Not necessarily in that order.

Everything I've Had by AppleSeeds M, 12k, human AU, chronic illness, chronic pain, hurt/comfort, bathing/washing, domestic fluff, childhood friends to lovers After developing a chronic illness that leaves him unable to live alone, Crowley moves back home to London where he reunites with his childhood best friend Aziraphale. Aziraphale helps to take care of Crowley and keeps him company while he's in bed, bringing them closer together and reigniting old feelings.

Touch my Tears with Your Lips by IneffableDoll T, 27k, post season 2, season 2 fix it, hurt/comfort, understimulation, making up, trauma, touch starvation, south down cottage In Heaven, there was nothing to touch. Aziraphale re-tied the knot of his bowtie again and again and again. He was alone, and nothing was real, and he was alone, and nothing was real.

[pedrostylez]

Something Else: The Breakup Drabble

pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

summary: Santiago's ego is so bruised that he can't see what is right in front of him-a relationship that needs to end so that he can refocus

rating: 18+ (no minors please) Explicit

word count: 2.3k

warnings etc: drinking, ptsd, arguing, fighting, friend dynamics

A/N: NOBODY PANIC it's just Anna and Santi. (I say just but I mean, kinda sad) This is longer than what I would consider a drabble, but we need just a bit more context for Anna and Santiago's realtionship, and what exactly ended it...don't we? Once again, thank you to Hemmy @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for beta reading, spreadsheet-ing, and being extremely helpful. As I said previously there is one last part to this that I am currently working on, as with all my other wips.

I am a slut for respectful comments, thoughts, and questions, so feel free to send those to me either privately or on ask. Please support all fanfic writers by liking, reblogging, and interacting. Thank you! 

Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11 @jake-g-lockley, @theanothersherlockian, @anoverwhelmingdin, @guelyury, @harriedandharassed, @wintersquirrel @scarletthefierce @paleidiot @brittmb115 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @bluetattoos

After The Confrontation

Anna walked to Santi’s apartment after having lunch with you, more calm. You had spoken about what bothered you, and she was going to try to make a change.  Santiago had let her in happily, asking how lunch was with you as he sat with Anna close to him. 

“It was okay. We hashed it out.” Anna said quietly, smiling at him. “Just some misunderstandings and mistakes.”

Santi hums. “What mistake did you make?” He questions, watching Anna’s head turn to his sharply. 

Anna shakes her head. “You just…assume I made the mistake? Not her?” She scoffs, pulling herself away from him. “It doesn’t concern you. I handled it.” She can hear herself getting defensive; too harsh and combative. 

Santi reels back, pulling his hand away from her shoulder.  He hadn’t woken up on the right side of the bed, still stressed from Frankie’s reaction to the opportunity for a trip. That stress comes lashing out against Anna. “Doesn’t concern me? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Anna’s lip raises in a snarl, forgetting herself. “It means it has nothing to do with you.” She bolts upright, steering herself in the direction of his front door. She was not spending the night at his place as far as she was concerned, it doesn’t matter that she had just arrived. 

As she’s slipping on her shoes she hears Santi stand, huffing out a breath to get her to stop. He grabs her shoulder, holding her firm. “What is going on? You say she’s your best friend but Benny said she looked uncomfortable the other day when you spoke to her and Frankie. What’s that about? Did that get solved?”

Santiago doesn’t want to mention how Benny had sat in his passenger seat a few nights ago and mentioned Anna being too forward. 

He doesn’t want to mention that he saw the shift in Frankie, how he stiffened whenever Anna stepped closer to him. How he avoided double dates, and played it off that he was too busy. How group outings seemed to dwindle to nothing after the coffee shop incident. 

He thinks it's all in his head. 

He swears he is just insecure, like a teenager all over again. That this is just because Frankie is upset with him over the proposal of a new mission. 

Anna scoffs, shaking off Santiago. “Tell Benny to mind his fucking business.” She steps around him, shoving her shoulder with his. “I’m going home. Don’t follow me.”

Surprisingly, he didn’t. 

1 Month Later-Girls Night

Santiago feels the weight of the world on his shoulders everytime he sees Frankie. It’s a crushing weight, that he swears is what led to him letting down his friends-his family. They are his family, and he feels his heart clench at how he carelessly suggested going to retrieve the rest of the money again; how he didn’t have a real plan. No wonder Frankie had been distancing himself from Santiago; he wasn’t the leader anymore. 

It’s only been a month and Frankie has laid it out with all possible scenarios. What is the best way to get down there, how to cover their tracks, how to plan for worst case scenarios. He was initially impressed with how Frankie took the reins of the operation and forced them all to sit down and truly think about it. Frankie always started a meeting with a single question: how badly do we want this? He would lead the discussion, still quiet and listening, but more willing to tell Will “no”, or letting Benny get his frustration out before reeling him back in. 

Now, Santiago felt useless. He had never been able to do those things for them.

A month ago he thought he was at his lowest, feeling like his ego was bruised, his family was telling him he wasn’t a good leader, and his girlfriend was upset with him. He had apologized to Anna, calling her, showing up on her doorstep after she left his place, and asking her to forgive his blow-up. That he was stressed about Frankie, and he never meant to take it out on her. That he didn’t know why Benny had mentioned anything to him and he didn’t know why he brought it up.

It was a blessing in his eyes that she accepted the apology and moved on. His friendships and his ability to keep his thoughts straight and rational for planning this mission only seemed to get worse.  

Another meeting and Frankie’s teasing, shoving his shoulder to crash the girls' night that you and Anna had planned a few weeks ago. “They won’t really mind, Pope.”

“Anna will.” Santi sighs, starting the engine of his truck. He notices Frankie’s small smile creeping on his face. 

“Someone needs to take their drunk asses home.” Frankie amends, tapping the half-rolled-down window before loping over to his own truck. 

Silently, Santiago wanted to see how you and Anna were interacting now that you had talked out your issues. Something he still wasn’t confident wouldn’t cause a fight if he asked Anna about.

When he and Frankie pulled up to the bar in question, carefully looking around at those in attendance, Santi’s eyes locked on the back of Anna’s head. She swayed with you, slightly shorter than your frame but her head turned away from you as she watched the crowd. 

You looked like you were having fun-as if you had more to drink than usual. Santi went to bump Frankie’s shoulder to tell him where you were, but when he turned Frankie was already making his way through the crowd. 

Santi shook his head, smiling at how love-sick Frankie clearly was. Frankie had only had that look one other time, but never enough to bump shoulders with a crowd of people to get closer. He orders a single shot, assuming Anna would want another before he turns back to watch. 

Frankie’s approach is gentle, a hand around your waist before dipping his head to the side. He seems stiff, Anna’s arm that was draped over your shoulder sliding off as she looks at him. A question, Santi assumes, before Anna’s shoulders slump, turning around to face Santi. 

You’re oblivious, turning around in Frankie’s arms as he relaxes, eyes flicking up to Santi to nod once before entertaining you a bit longer on the dance floor. Santi’s eyes trail back to Anna, whose face is held tight. 

“I told you this was girl’s night.” She yells over the music, hand on her hip. 

Santi nods. “I know, I told him. Couldn’t keep him away.” He looks over to the bar where the bartender left the alcohol he ordered. “I got you another shot.”

Anna visibly sighs, looking at him and at the shot glass. “I wasn’t drinking tonight; wanted her to have fun.”

It surprises him how Anna had planned it out to be sober so that they could get home without their help. “Well, I’ll take you home…If you want.”

Anna doesn’t respond, leaning against the bar and watching you and Frankie. Santiago raises his eyes to do the same, watching how Frankie’s arm slides over your shoulder to herd you in their direction. 

Santiago watches Frankie speak to you without saying anything; how his eyes trail over him and Anna briefly before raising his eyebrows at you. He wants to scoff at how ridiculous it feels that you and Frankie have this silent conversation about him and Anna until Anna clasps her fingers around the shot glass and downs it. 

“Alright over here?” Frankie asks, resting his hand on your shoulder, squeezing lovingly.

“Yeah, man,” Santiago calls, looking over to Anna who is watching the interaction too. He sees how her gaze softens at their intimacy; how Frankie’s eyes flit between Anna and you, swallowing stiffly.

“Are you all set?” Anna asks, looking only at you.

You nod, pushing away from Frankie. “Let’s go to the bathroom, and then I’ll have Fishy take me home.” 

Santiago feels something like jealousy stirring in his stomach, but jealousy of what he is unsure of. “She didn’t want me to come.”

Frankie nods, shrugging. “We’re going to head out. Give you two some space to talk.”

Santiago hears him, but he isn’t sure what he means by “space”. He still doesn’t know what that means when he helps Anna into his truck, giving a small wave to your happy smile and Frankie’s nod. And now Anna is silent in the truck ride home not looking at Santiago if she can at all help it. 

He feels this spiral of insecurity that he has been struggling with since Frankie first said that they needed a real plan if they were to go again, and he wants to explode. “Bebita–”

“Please, don’t.” She cuts him off. 

Santi sighs, looking over at her and reaching for her hand. It suddenly clicks into place in his mind what he needs to do. Whether Frankie meant it this way or not, he needs to be focusing on one thing before they go on this trip. He doesn’t think it can be her. “We need to talk.”

He watches her eyes flash in anger before reeling herself in. She wants to explode too. “What do you want to talk about?”

Santiago sighs, looking away for a moment before building up the courage to say it. “I think we need to take a break.”

She stares at him for a long while, panic rising in his stomach that maybe he made a mistake. Maybe this wasn’t the right thing to say; that he needs her to support him through this, that he can go back to what they were before. They were fun, they were in love as far as he was concerned. He continues to spiral until she asks if this is about Frankie and you. 

Santiago reels back, not expecting the question. “Why would this be about them?”

Anna’s eye roll puts him on guard. “I assume she told Frankie about our inside joke that made her uncomfortable and he came to you to whisper it in your ear? Is that why you’ve been acting so strange?”

Santiago is frozen in place, fumbling over words as she continues. “It was just a joke. We’ve been saying it since like, freshman year of high school. We’ve never actually switched boyfriends, and Brad was just some douche–”

“Stop.” Santiago cuts her off, squeezing at the steering wheel. Anna’s eyes flick to his, waiting for him to speak more. He swallows roughly, feeling derailed from his initial anxiety. His anger is starting to bubble over. “I thought you two made up.”

Anna takes a deep breath and looks at him. When she begins to speak, it’s like she can’t stop. No room for him to interject, just her spilling out all of the information of your confrontation, what you said, what she said. 

He doesn’t know how he got here, originally upset that he needed to break things off with her because of his own insecurities, and his inability to focus on fixing his friendships and keeping them safe and focus on his relationship with her. Now he’s fuming at how he missed all the signs. 

“Let me get this straight.” Santi scoffs, turning his full body towards her. “You’ve been making this joke, since you were 13, that you casually switch boyfriends? And you’re still doing it at almost fucking 30? And you didn’t think she would be upset that you were doing that…in front of him?”

Anna pulls so far back away from him that her head bumps the window. “I didn’t know he was in the closet hiding!”

“She felt like she had to hide Frankie from you.” He states, shaking his head at her when she furrows her brow. “I can’t believe you’ve been acting like that–”

“Why are you acting like this?” She screeches, holding her hands wide. “It’s been handled. I’m working on it. We talked–”

“She’s never going to correct you, Anna.” He sighs. “She’s too timid. She loves you and wants to see you happy, and it took…two years for her to even say she was uncomfortable with a joke? Her previous boyfriend was in love with you and told her as much when he was with her? You should have been groveling at her feet.” He laughs, shaking his head. 

Her anger bubbles out of her throat. “Shut up, Santi!”

He gives her a pointed look, talking slowly to her. He thinks he could black out this whole moment if he doesn’t focus on her. “I shouldn’t have apologized for pointing out what Benny saw. I should have believed him and not given you a pass. I fucking saw it too-how she dismissed us to close up the coffee shop. I should have known. God-Frankie kept tensing up around you and I was fucking blind.” He confirms, shaking his head. “You should have known. I can’t believe you. I don’t like anything you’ve told me, and I don’t even know if it’s the full truth.”

“I was in a bad place that night!” Anna exclaims, tears threatening to spill. “Mom had just told me to stop whoring around, and I can’t tell her that because she fucking idolizes my mom–”

“That’s not an excuse to sleep with someone she literally had sex with the night before.” Santi sighs, now reserved about the situation. “I wasn’t planning on breaking up with you over this, but if that’s what it’s come to, then so be it.”

Anna scoffs. “You’re not breaking up with me because of this. You’re doing it because your ego is bruised. Because Frankie is the one in charge and you can’t fucking stand it. You’re just using this as a fucking excuse, Santiago.”

“He should be in charge,” Santi growls, turning his head. He’s not going to give her the space to bite back. “I got Redfly killed, and I have to deal with that every day. You ruined your friendship with your sister and now you have to figure out how to mend it. And we will both deal with it, on our own.”

She sits there, dumbfounded by him, eyes glazing over. “You’re serious?”

He doesn’t respond with anything more than a grunt, unlocking the door as an indication for her to get out.

[clovercrafted-txt]

An End... or A Beginning?

messing around, trying to figure out how I want the end of my fanfic to play out for this weeks prompt!

putting this below a read more to avoid any possible future spoilers for those who don't want to peek behind the curtain <3

words - 804

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Cold wind kisses his weathered chassis, tugs at his long frayed purple scarf, whipping it about behind him as he struggles, huffing and puffing, the steam from his vents getting lost in the rolling mist that sweeps in from the sea. Sig tries with all his might but the lever just won’t budge. Rusted in place, years of disuse and relentless battering from the elements has left the mechanism warped, nigh unusable but looking up, wiping the damp from his brow as if it’s sweat so he can see the shining face of Seven Red Suns looking down at him, lounging on the edge of the back of the train carriage, their back-lit eyes alive with mirth.

“Struggling?” They tease, lighthearted.

“Har har, well, if you can’t tell, I don’t think we’re getting this damn thing to go anywhere.”

They tilt their head, hmm in thought, lean on their hands, “I could help you, you know, two heads are better than one after all. We’re made to solve problems.”

“If you can un-rust this thing, sure, be my guest, but we’re stuck here, ain’t nuffin’ we can do.”

“Not with that attitude. Come on, we can at least try to oil it, right?”

“I guess but… where are we going to find oil round here? The scavs have picked this place down to the bones!”

Suns merely shimmies down the narrow ladder and brushes dirt from their tattered robes, “Well, we’ve got an eternity, best get to it!”

It takes hours, of course, not because oil turns out to be a rare commodity, it's actually fairly common if you’re okay with it spilling across already slick ground or leaking out of old drums, no there’s plenty undamaged stock to be had. The problem is Suns. Well, they’re not really a problem. They just… don’t take it seriously at all. First he’s pushed into a puddle, then teased without mercy, then he pushes them into a puddle and it goes on and on and on like that, both slogging back to the lever and the rusted rails towards distant lands covered in mud and Void knows what else. But if Sig had a mouth he’d wear a smile that would touch his ears, which… he also does not have. The analogy is lost in his laughter as Suns slips on some soggy seaweed, cursing colourfully and in languages he’s never heard. Despite it all, the oil works, the lever moves, and their train steadily moves along the rotting tracks.

Sig flops back on the manky old seat, letting his clothes drip drop onto dirty rattling floors while Suns has their face pressed against the grubby window, wayward breathes fogging it up further, hands trying to wipe away the grime only to smear more across it.

“Well, this is it, I guess, the end of our big adventure, off we go to somewhere else, somewhere new.”

They give him a short glance, quickly returning to the futile task of trying to catch a glimpse of the outside, “Why does it have to be the end? Of course one part has ended but another begins, a new Cycle unfolds before us now.”

“I guess it does…” A heartbeat passes, Sig turns towards them, watching them as they watch the scenery pass, “Where do you think these train tracks even lead? To Wind’s facility grounds? Further? To other Iterators we’ve never heard of before?”

“I don’t know. It goes forwards.”

“Forwards? To where?”

“Anywhere. Everywhere. To the world beyond us. To a further future beyond our reach. Does it matter?”

He laughs, allows himself to laugh, “No, guess not, not when I’m with you.” His chest feels tight, light, fluttering heartbeats, Suns glows under the coppery fluorescence of the halogen lights.

“That is,” They breathe, break their vigil to slide down the seat, to sit beside him, fingers folded in their lap, “That is the most genuine and open you have been with me for a very very long time.”

“Mmm, yeah it is.”

“Why?”

“Four words.”

“Yes, that is where we’re going I said that already, you were listening, yes?”

“No no! Four. Words. As in, this is our story. As in, this how we start. As in, we’ve found our future. As in-” He stutters, stalls, takes a leap of faith, “As in, I love you Suns.”

“Ah… I… well, I uh-”

“It’s okay, you don’t need to formulate a reply right now, it’s okay to think it over but please,” He reaches for their hand here, entangles his fingers with theirs, to his surprise they do not flinch or flee, “Let’s just go forwards, together, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, aha, I can do that, I would… I would like that. Yeah. To begin again. We’ve got an eternity to spend, better start cashing in our cheques.”

[penguinmerchant]

Fanbinding of "Live from New York"

Live From New York by Varnes

Another mostly successful binding! This one is a binding of the most hilarious thing I've ever read, "Live From New York" by Varnes on AO3. Now, I'm gonna put a disclaimer here--I'm not really into MDZS. I've tried watching the Untamed, I've watched the anime, I've tried reading the books, and I've never really clicked with any of it. Basically I know enough about the characters to not be totally confused when I read fanfic and that's it. Which I am super glad about because I am not lying when I say this is the funniest thing I've ever read in my goddamn life.

Process info and more pics under the cut.

So this guy is 87,000 words, give or take a few, which is what I have discovered is the absolute maximum that my guillotine can cut. Good to know if I ever want to do something longer, because it will have to be broken up. And because of some sort of miracle (or maybe it was this thing from Amazon) I managed to cut this thing totally straight. Which if you've read my other posts is a huge first for me. I think the problem was that the text block was just moving around too much when the blade was pressed down, but that little magnetic bastard is tough and it kept everything exactly where it was supposed to be.

The endpapers, a bunny and moon motif that is PERFECT for this book. See, I know enough about Lan Wanji to know that he has bunnies! Anyway, these were silk screened chiyogami paper from etsy and they're beautiful. They're thicker than normal paper and almost like a very thin fabric, but they took to glue super well and I'm so so happy with how they went down (and how cute they are!)

My chapter headings:

And page breaks:

This thing took forever to typeset, but I think it was worth it. And the title page, which also took forever because my printer never wanted to line up correctly:

Anyway, except for a stray piece of HTV making it to the front cover, the exceptionally skinny text on the back cover that went kind of wonky and making the boards just a hair too short this thing came out really well. Also, I don't want to declare that I have solved all of my HTV problems but I'm pretty sure I have solved all of my HTV problems. I got this little sucker after watching someone effortlessly stick down their HTV with it and it worked like a freaking charm. I don't know if it's because it's tiny so you can put more pressure down on it or because it's crazy hot or what (it did scorch the HTV just a little) but everything stuck down great on the first try and I even peeled everything up while it was still hot. I love it. I 100% recommend it for anyone who is having trouble with getting their HTV to stick.

Anyway, I do have plans to make another colorway of this book. I've got a bright pink bookcloth and some turquoise and purple HTV that are just begging to be put to use, and once I can find some suitably good endpapers I'm gonna start on that one. Let me know what you guys think and if you want any more info, please ask!

Also go read the fic because it's hilarious okay bye!

[9leaguesofmirrors]

Weekend Comfort (a Ross Gaines x Joseph Lisgoe fanfic)

Not sure what else to say, just had this silly idea of Ross having an awful day and Lisgoe trying to make it better - despite being awful at comfort

Lisgoe could tell Ross was out of it the moment he walked through the door and fell into the sofa, eyes closed and head leaning against the backrest. Not a word was spoken until Lisgoe said something:

"You alright?"

Obviously not, you daft twat, look at him!

"Just tired..." came the reply "I'll live."

"You look like death warmed up if I'm being honest."

"I'd rather you didn't."

"You love my honesty-"

"Not when I feel like this." Ross groaned as he sat up, massaging his temple "I've got a throbber."

Confused, Lisgoe's eyes dragged down, much to the chagrin of his partner

"In my head, Joseph."

"Seems alright to me-"

"My other head."

"Oh."

Watching his partner tut with annoyance, Lisgoe realised that this problem needed solving fast. So he stood up and headed for the kitchen, rummaging around in the fridge mumbling to himself

"Joseph? Need a hand in there?"

"What do sick people have?"

"You should've said," Ross stood up and joined him "I'd have gotten you some tablets or-"

"Not me, this is for you."

"I'm not sick."

"No, but you have a headache." Lisgoe took some milk out of the fridge and went over to the counter, taking two mugs and boiling the kettle "This might help."

Ross sighed, leaning against the counter

"You don't have to."

"Maybe not. But I want to."

"I'm fine, Joseph-"

He was interrupted by Lisgoe holding his upper arms firmly

"Ross. You're not well."

"I've been worse-"

"That's not a fucking good thing! Christ, you need to sit down. Or take a shower, do something to freshen up."

"Need to stay here," Ross gestured to the kettle "make sure you don't burn the house down."

Lisgoe furrowed his brows, jaw tightening in irritance. Eventually, Ross sighed

"OK, fine, I'll take a shower." He rested his hand on top of his partner's, running his thumb along it "This... thank you. It's nice."

"Will be if I don't burn the house down."

That made them both laugh and Ross moved his fingers under his partner's chin, tilting his head towards him and kissing him gently

"I'll be alright Joseph, I'm just-"

"Fucking hell, just get in the shower!" Lisgoe laughed

Ross went to leave when he heard a phone ring, he watched as Lisgoe picked his up, reading the name

Cameron Bell

"That someone from work?"

"Yeah," Lisgoe declined the call and went to message the person "started recently. I'll get back to him." He put his phone back in his pocket, focusing on making the tea "You're my top priority."

"I'm not fragile, Joseph." His partner teased as he made his way upstairs

Lisgoe ran his tongue along his teeth

"We'll see about that!" He called back

*********************************************

Ross wasn't surprised to hear the bathroom door opening while he was inside, he figured his partner was either peeing or just wanted to be his usual self

Taptaptap

Lisgoe was stood in front of the shower door, thunking his knuckle against it

Right. He's being his usual self then

He opened the shower door with a tired yet slightly playful smile

"Can I help you, Joseph?"

"I just realised something. You never really talk about that Pauline."

Ross sighed

"Joseph, can we talk about this later-"

"I mean, was she really that bad?"

His eyes narrowed

"Yes. Yes, she was."

"You say that, but I'm not sure. I mean, apparently she got married."

"To Mickey," said an impatient Ross "but she died."

"Apparently she faked it. Ran off."

"What is this about-"

Lisgoe took off the ring on his index finger and moved it to his ring one. He smiled softly at Ross

"Joseph, please, I'm not in the-"

"Nine years. That's how long she was destitute for. Because of you." Lisgoe went over to the window and pulled a padlock out of his pocket, locking it tightly "Nine years, she suffered."

"I have no sympathy."

"Maybe not." Lisgoe reached into the shower and turned the temperature up to its highest setting "But I knew I couldn't let you get away with hurting my fiancèe like that so I sought you out. Let you live happily for nine years."

For a moment, Ross was stunning into silence. Suddenly, he jolted back with a yell as Lisgoe yanked up the pressure on the shower

"Why, Joseph? Why didn't you just leave me?"

"Because I want your last moments to be spending wondering what's worse: nine years of hell, or nine years of bliss being stripped from you."

Ross watched Lisgoe shut the shower door. He gripped the handle, desperately trying to tear them open. By the time Lisgoe pulled away, there was already a padlock in place

All Ross could do was scream. Scream and slam on the shower door as hot steam scorched the room. His partner, the man he told all his secrets to, all of his darkest parts, left the room and locked the door behind him

As his body got weaker and weaker, Ross slumped against the moist wall behind him. The world closed into him in a haze of translucent heat. His eyes remained fixed on the door, clinging onto the pathetic hope that Joseph would have a change of heart. That his partner was still there, somewhere

Cameron Bell...

Cam Bell

Campbell

Have a shower, Ross... freshen up...

Joseph...

"Ross?"

Upon hearing his name, he jolted slightly looking around the room

His living room

He was in his living room

Lisgoe was next to him, looking slightly confused

"You alright? You kinda... went off."

Ross looked at the TV as credits began rolling

"Told you it was a great episode, second favourite one." Lisgoe said "Private View's better though. But you might like Riddle Of The Sphinx."

That's when Ross started to connect the dots

"You alright?"

"Just tired... I'll live."

"You look like death warmed up if I'm being honest."

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Alright, alright! Tell you what, we'll see what's on the telly. Pretty sure Inside No. 9's on tonight."

"That's the Black Mirror-y one you like."

"Yeah, there's a rerun of the season 8 finale tonight. Last Weekend, that's what it's called."

"Still can't believe he'd do that to his own partner, fucking hell!"

Ross looked at his partner in silence, not sure what to say after... whatever trick his mind had just played

"You're clearly out of it." Lisgoe went to stand up "I'll boil the kettle and-"

"NO!" The volume surprised them both "I mean. No. Thank you. I'll make it myself."

"O...kay?" Lisgoe nodded, trying not the laugh "Go ahead!"

Ross nodded, getting up and making a beeline for the kitchen. He chose to ignore Lisgoe when he said:

"Slow down! Christ, you'll end up scalding yourself!"

A/N: ... Happy April Fools :)

Hope you enjoyed this little prankfic, be sure not to spoil it in the comments! Promise my next one will be genuine