#its still very much at the bullet point stage

[florelia12]

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hobie x deadpool reader or spider reader

Hobie Brown x Deadpool male reader

Headcanons

I love Deadpool, who doesn’t love Deadpool? I tried to think of what Deadpool would be like in Hobies’ earth, and I just feel like he would kinda just be the same as always, except maybe with a metal aesthetic. And any chance to work my favorite music into stuff? I’m taking it.

You were Deadpool, and had been Deadpool for a long time. In the beginning it had just been your musician and artist name. Much of your music was different types of metal, with lyrics focused on judging the system and pointing fingers at its corruption.

Of course, a lot of people hated your music, but there was also those who loved it. One of them being Hobie Brown. Even before he became spiderman, hed always been a very righteous person with strong opinions about corruption and capitalism, so finding an artist who shared his views was great.

That was until you got a little too popular and stepped on the wrong people’s toes with your music and art. When you started pointing fingers at Osborn and his wild corruption, those against you grew more and more violent.

And at one of your biggest concerts to date, one that offered all the proceeds to those in need, you were assassinated right on stage. Theories would go around saying it was Osborn wanting to get rid of you, and telling everyone what would happen if they crossed him.

Panic consumed the arena after you were shot right on stage, and in the panic your body was whisked away. Deadpool became an icon in the anarchist circle, as one of the first to stand up against suppression and never back down no matter what.

Time would pass, Hobie would become Spiderman, and he would fight people like Osborn, even killing the guy with his guitar in the end.

But even after killing Osborn, the world was still in disarray, meaning a lot of work had to be done. So, when someone who went by Deadpool started popping up in stories and rumors, it caught people’s attention.

It was assumed you were just a fan, who wanted to use the legendary name of Deadpool to spread your message, or maybe the honor the original Deadpool. That was until people met you though.

You had the same clothes, only now wearing a mask. Your boots, your jacket, your spikes, and patches, even your guitar, you had it all. And on closer inspection, true fans could see it was the real thing.

You were almost like a ghost of the past, stories would go around that you were the angered spirit of the musician Deadpool, having crawled out of hell to wreak havoc on the upper class and tear out the roots of capitalism.

Hobie would want to meet you of course, you were like his hero and biggest inspiration. The first time you two would meet would be during a fight of some sort, and you’d chuck your guitar across the battlefield to nail a corrupt cop in the head before they could get a lucky shot at Hobie.

After that you two became close like two peas in a pod. Hobie would never treat you like you were someone above him, even though he had admired you for years, because he doesn’t believe in treating celebrities like gods.

Soon Deadpool and Spiderman being spotted together was a common sight, and so was seeing spiderman swing around with Deadpool in his arms or hanging on his back like a koala.

You never really take off your mask in the beginning, but when you do Hobie learns why you keep it on. You have a large scar taking up part of your head where the bullet had blown your head apart all that time ago.

You had apparently always been a mutant with a light healing factor, which had kept you alive, but you had been whisked away from Osborn researchers who wanted to use your healing factor. But in the end, they’d simply boosted your powers and you became pretty much unkillable.

This leads to you taking most of the hits during battle, since you can easily take it, anything you lose will just grow back. That doesn’t stop Hobie from worrying though, because seeing someone get their arm sliced off is pretty extreme.

Your first kiss is something you’d only have with a version of Deadpool. Hobie would be carrying your head after it’s been sliced off, and you would be asking him for a kiss and blowing him kisses from where hes carrying your head.

Now, anyone normal wouldn’t do what Hobie does, but Hobie doesn’t like to fit the mold. So, he would lift your severed but still living head and kiss you on the lips. Cue a make out until your body stumbles over and you can get your head back on.

You two never actually put a label to what you are, because that’s not the type of person you two are. But you two are pretty much dating now. You move into an apartment together, and sleep in the same bed at night, and kiss whenever you want.

Spiderman and Deadpool pretty much become icons in your community, for standing up towards oppression, and also being two hot guys who hold concerts after fights.

[anna-scribbles]

can you share some of your writing/planning process for thirteen? i adore the non-linear format - how do you decide what scenes to put where?

ahh thank you!! idk how much of a defined process I have, but there's definitely a lot of planning that goes into it and i can show you some of that.

i keep all the chapters in one doc organized by month, and then i plan everything out in bullet points in a timeline at the beginning. here i just have october and november as examples bc after december things started to get more detailed/messy

all of the scenes (especially at the beginning) set the stage for things i’ve planned to happen later, or establish something that feels relevant to adrien’s character by the time we meet him in canon. the task of condensing an entire month into about 2-3 scenes has been a bit difficult; i’ve found out that i’m a very present-moment kind of writer so it’s harder for me to describe the passage of, like, weeks of time. so i’ve been pinpointing specific threads of adrien’s story that i want to be sure to tell and choosing scenes from each month that build on that.

i’ve had the idea for this fic in the back of my mind since about 2021 so i’ve had several scenes cemented in my mind, ways i’ve decided things played out, etc. some of the writing process has been building the narrative around those things or figuring out how we get there. that’s what i love about prequels in general, honestly - it’s inevitable where we’re going to end up, but how do we get there?

adrien’s situation, at the moment we meet him in origins, is SO endlessly fascinating to me. he is in the process of doing something reckless and rebellious and bold - running away - against the will of his father, a man he spends the rest of the series struggling with his compulsion to submit to. we find out, via the rest of the show, exactly how difficult it is for adrien to stand up to his father. and yet, in his very first appearance, adrien is running away from him.

how did he get here? what, exactly, pushed him to this point? was this the final escalation of a steady build of rebellious behaviors, or an impulsive breakthrough after one awful day too many? what has this small boy been through in the last year, and why does public school seem to be his only fathomable escape?

and WHY, if his circumstances are so dire as to compell him to rebel so boldly in the first place, does he still throw it away to help the old man in the road? what makes him so kind, when he has everything to lose? what happened? how did he get here?

i’m interested, obviously, in the character of émilie. i think that the hole she leaves in the narrative is a compelling silhouette and i’ve been having a blast trying to pencil in its details. it’s obvious that adrien loved her deeply and had a stronger connection to her than with gabriel. but also, adrien was still shut off from the world while she was alive. he was still, presumably, an exploited child star while she was alive. she was an actress and a mother and died by broken magic and never told her son the truth about any of it. figuring out who i think she was and then how to show that through young adrien’s eyes has been a huge part of planning this story for me.

as far as the twenty three year old adrien sections, those have been less involved as far as planning goes. i only recently mapped out which areas of the house i want him to visit during the different months. i wanted his sections to line up at least thematically, if not physically, where thirteen year old adrien is at in his story. for example, in december twenty three year old adrien cleans out the dining room where thirteen year old adrien was having terrible christmas dinner. and in january they’re both in the garden, etc.

it’s a bit harder to map out twenty three adrien just because it has to also make sense geographically - i can’t have him running back and forth up and down the stairs, let’s be real he doesn’t have the energy for that. i’ve also opened up the agreste mansion page on the miraculous wiki so many times while trying to map this out 💔💔 did you know that apparently there’s a third floor we never see in the show. yeah i have to figure out what to do with that now

ANYWAY long story short: the planning process for thirteen is kind of a mess, but the whole story is built around some central plot points that i knew i wanted to hit from the beginning. the details change a lot (as you can see from the outline above - it’s not quite right) but i keep the end in mind. just have to figure out how we get there.

thank you for asking!! mwah<3

[hexpea]

Ch. 12 - Wedding

As you rode the bullet train back home, memories crept into your mind once more. This was especially so considering the cold shoulder Seiko was giving you. Something was different about them. You felt certain that they had been possessed but they still somehow had complete control. It was all a mystery to you. You'd lost your touch since you left sorcery behind to focus on something 'normal.' Clearly that came back to bite you on the ass.

Your mind wandered as the trees and buildings passed by your window. You began to recall your wedding and the pleasant disaster that it was.

It took place at a grand hall in downtown Tokyo. It was quite regal-looking considering the modern buildings surrounding it. The hall itself was adorned with opulent decorations, vibrant flowers, and the soft glow of what looked like nearly a thousand candles. You'd picked none of it, save for your dress (which still had to be approved by the Gojo matriarch). It had all been arranged by the Gojo family, though they didn't get their way completely. Satoru was adamant on a non-Shinto wedding rather than what his parents had wanted. It was a small concession considering the marriage was arranged, they allowed it.

The guests had gathered, their eyes fixed on the large, extravagant entrance, waiting in anticipation for you to walk down the aisle -- a joining of two powerful families. Meanwhile, your heart raced as you stood behind the two polished, wooden doors. You stood alone with two attendants ready to open the doors for you. Your palms felt incredibly sweaty around your bouquet and you'd hoped your makeup hadn't begun to smudge -- as if that mattered, you didn't want this... Your father stood by, watching you carefully as you fidgeted with a petal on your bouquet. There wasn't much he could say, he knew you were upset with him.

Suddenly, as the sound of piano filled the air, the two attendants quickly pulled back the door and your shocked expression was revealed to the crowd. You swallowed tightly and stood a little straighter just as you were queued to begin walking, your father's arm linked with yours. Your mind repeated the mantra 'don't trip, don't trip, don't trip' over and over. You tried your best to stare ahead but looking at Satoru at the altar was incredibly daunting. 

He had a closed-lipped smile, hands clasped in front of him, and that classic, black blindfold across his lids. His mother had griped about him wearing his blindfold when she was assisting you in getting ready, saying how he could tolerate twenty minutes of wearing nothing for appearances. His suit was perfectly tailored to his body as the candlelight twinkled off his shoulders. His appearance almost made you...nervous. And he was completely unfazed. 

As you came closer and closer, keeping your eyes locked on him for a bit of confidence, his grin widened to its signature. But you noticed that, perhaps, there was a subtle glint of nervousness in the twitching of his lip. He'd never been one to show vulnerability, even on such a significant occasion. But you wouldn't be one to point it out when you felt the exact same way.

When you stepped up to the altar, handing your bouquet to the woman staged behind you, your father placing your hand in Gojo's before sitting next to your mother, you exchanged a nervous glance with your partner. You were wondering what was going through his mind. This entire wedding was perfectly orchestrated, and this was all part of a business arrangement. Your life was being signed away in these very moments. 

The ceremony proceeded as normal, vows were exchanged and your thoughts raced. You could hardly mumble out your 'I do,' a pathetic attempt after Gojo's perfectly acted enthusiasm. But that was when the officiant looked between you both with a smile, "you may now kiss the bride." 

From the corner of your vision, you swore you could see your parents hold their breath. All eyes were on you and Satoru. Your heart pounded in your chest as you stood there awkwardly, your nerves getting the best of you. This part wasn't discussed, you honestly hadn't even thought about it. You knew the tradition, but you couldn't help but wonder what this kiss really meant in the context of your arranged marriage. Did it really matter?! 

Satoru, seemingly confident, didn't waste a single moment. Just as you saw your parents from your peripheral vision, Satoru used a gentle yet decisive motion to close the gap between you, hands delicately placed on your hips, and leaned down to press his lips to yours. The guests gave light applause as he lingered, big smiles on all of their faces as if they didn't just witness a forced marriage. Your eyes fluttered shut and hands rested on his forearms when you settled into the act, your face still hotter than ever as embarrassment flooded your mind. 

His kiss was warm and tender, the taste of promise and a future together. In that brief moment, it felt as though the world had stopped and it was just the two of you. The kiss was a gesture, but for just a minute, you swore it held a glimmer of hope and something more. As you both pulled away, a sense of unforeseen wonder filled you. You looked up at him nearly cross-eyed as he stayed a few inches from you in contemplation before pulling completely back. You couldn't predict what the future held for your arranged marriage, but that kiss, however arranged, had a touch of genuine emotion that left you with a sense of confusion. 

With the light applause beginning to die down, Satoru did the unexpected, a way to get under his parents' skin without 'breaking the rules.' As you looked out into the crowd, finding your former classmates standing in ovation with everyone else, you found your feet suddenly floating. Satoru had scooped you up unannounced as if you were light as a feather. You blinked hard in astonishment as you looked up at him, your jaw slightly agape. He looked down toward you with a cocky half-smile before turning back to the crowd with an even wider grin, it was infectious. You held onto his neck for dear life as he began to walk down from the altar and down the aisle.

The movement earned him some laughter and a bit louder applause from the crowd. Joy had filled the room unexpectedly. Meanwhile, though Satoru ignored it, his father was pinching the bridge of his nose as his face grew ever-so red. His mother covered her mouth in shock as her eyes trailed the two of you. Nonetheless, Satoru's confident strides never faltered.

Just as he left the threshold of the grand entrance, he carefully set you down on your feet, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment as you found your footing. His gaze from behind the blindfold bore into yours as your eyes met. His expression appeared a little too satisfied, even as the two of you turned to face the guests. He gave a deep bow as if he had given some kind of performance as you stood by with flushed cheeks, unsure of your next move. You knew this was just the beginning of your arranged marriage journey, but in that moment, carried down the aisle by the Satoru Gojo, it felt like the start of something extraordinary.

The reception was held in the same hall, just in a different room better set for a fancy meal. While the guests filtered into that room, you and Satoru had to attend to your formal wedding photos. Much to your expectation, the room where the photos would be captured was incredibly formal. It was small yet filled with extravagant architecture that almost looked something like the European renaissance.

When you had entered, you were quickly rushed about by a very stressed photographer. You were moved around like some kind of life-sized Barbie doll as was Satoru. Their instruction was impeccable, ensuring each shot was perfect. Though, Satoru couldn't go without having some fun at the expense of the stressed photographer. Against their instruction, with nearly each shot, he'd dare to pull you closer with his arm tight around your waist. His eyes, now without their blindfold for the pictures, never left yours.

"Smile, Y/N," he whispered as he looked down at you, merely inches away. The effect of his words sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn't help but smile, albeit with a hint of exasperation as the camera snapped.

The photographer directed you both to now stand side-by-side, your wedding attire radiant in the golden sunlight that peeked in through the large windows. Satoru's hand found its way to your lower back, his touch light and electrifying. As the photographer prepared their camera once more, Satoru leaned sideways toward you to whisper in your direction.

"You look gorgeous, Mrs. Gojo," he snickered before standing up straight.

You rolled your eyes at his antics, "don't get ahead of yourself, Satoru," you replied, trying to maintain a facade of protest though your heart couldn't help but flutter at his charming audacity.

With the photos complete, the two of you made your way to the reception, entering following your grand announcement as Mr. & Mrs. for the very first time. It was a time for celebration, laughter, and heartfelt toasts -- though it all felt incredibly forced. Despite it all, the atmosphere was filled with jubilation and warmth. If it's a reason to drink, those in power didn't care at whose expense.

Amidst the formalities, Satoru seemed to be behaving rather well, at least by his family's standards. He exchanged pleasantries with guests, listened attentively to speeches as they came, and danced with you as any groom should. However, it didn't take long for him to stir things up. As his father took the stage to give his speech and offer a toast, Satoru saw an opportunity for mischief. His sly grin almost twinkled as he moved into action.

You and Satoru were enjoying your dessert at your own private table toward the front of the room where guests could 'ogle' at the 'happy' couple. As his father began speaking, Satoru motioned for one of the waitstaff, a young woman who was carrying a tray filled with chocolate-covered strawberries. With a devilish grin, he whispered something into her ear as she leaned toward him. She hesitantly nodded, not wanting to disobey a guest. Meanwhile, you watched as Gojo reached into the jacket pocket of his suit and pulled out a thin, plastic container. It held a single, oddly shaped pepper coated in chocolate. You were honestly impressed, the damn thing did look like a strawberry. Satoru took one of the strawberries, quickly biting down on it as he replaced it with the chili pepper.

While the senior Gojo continued speaking on love, family, and tradition, the waitress presented the tray, making sure to position it in a way that he would take the pepper Satoru had planted. Continuing to speak, he took it without a second thought, giving a polite nod to the waitress as she dismissed herself. Between words, he took a bite of the 'strawberry,' expecting a burst of sweetness. It took a fraction of a second for the fiery spice to register on his taste buds. His eyes widened and his face turned various shades of red. He cleared his throat but continued his speech, struggling to maintain his composure. You swore you could see sweat beads starting to form on his forehead.

"Satoru," you whispered, leaning in his direction as he continued munching on his strawberry.

"Yeah?" He inquired with his mouth full, voice at regular volume.

"Doesn't your dad have a heart condition?" You asked with concern as the man on the other side of the room, spotlight on him, continued to avoid choking on the spice.

Satoru gave a single laugh and placed the strawberry top on his dessert plate. "Yeah, yeah he does."

You leaned back, realizing that Satoru didn't quite care about the logistics of his prank. You could only watch as the man finally caught a breath.

His father's voice was strained and a bit shaky as he concluded the speech he was attempting to give, "and to my son, who...always keeps...life interesting." He spoke through gritted teeth, raising his glass, though not without a hint of resentment.

The guests, who were a bit thrown off by watching his brief struggle, gave nervous applause and took sips of their champagne. The tension in the room from the event had then transformed into an awkward blend of amusement and discomfort. Satoru's chuckles were contagious as you sat next to him. He raised his glass with everyone else, a sly and unapologetic grin playing on his lips. While his prank had been quite the shake up, it certainly made the reception unforgettable. However, it was clear that his father's anger smoldered beneath the surface.

The glittery evening continued despite the mishap. As you gulped down more and more champagne, you found it easier to loosen up and actually enjoy the night somewhat. Perhaps after everything, you had thought this marriage had possibility.

[textfromthelookout]

Did you hear of the news?

I have. :(

Everyone else has their tributes so, here, a summary of my experience with Dragon Ball.

I was in fourth grade art class. A kid had the February 2005 issue of Shonen Jump, back when Shonen Jump was still physically printed here. I recognized Atem on the front cover because the Blockbuster around the corner from our house had DVDs (I think they were DVDs and not VHSs then since I distinctly remember it having a menu and special features) of some of the later episodes of Duelist Kingdom and my brother and I watched them on repeat. So I was like oh, hey, what's this? They make books of that stuff? I don't remember the conversation but the kid ended up giving me that issue, and I took it home with me.

There were a LOT of significant, groundwork things happening in that issue, now that I think about it. We were just beginning to see Sanji truly in action against Pearl. The Dark Tournament was in it's early stages still with Roto fucking around and finding out against Kurama. Sakura shears off her hair in a move that rearranged sexualities the world over. The reason Atem was on the cover was because Yu-Gi-Oh Millennium World was just debuting its first and second chapter. Bleach wasn't even serialized yet. And Dragon Ball, of course, was also there, about a hundred and fifty chapters ahead of everybody else.

Keep in mind that this was my first experience with manga, period. So my very first experience with Dragon Ball opened on this:

and ended on this:

Yeah. Truth be told, at the time Yu Yu Hakusho piqued my interest more than Dragon Ball (a guy fighting with plants? how creative!) but I never did forget these chapters. I thought the art style was so different from the others.

At some point after this, probably between several months and a year and a half, the TV happened to be on one evening when Toonami was airing Dragon Ball Z. Oh hey, I said, I recognize that art, I know those characters. So I hung around and watched some of episode 281. Two things about watching that episode stick with absolute crystal clarity in my mind to this day. Firstly: Buu choking Vegeta out with his arm freaked me the FUCK out as a child. I could not tell you why I had a fear reaction to it but hey, there you go. The second is this:

Specifically I remember 'You died once. If anything happens to you now, you won't exist anymore. There'll be nothing I can do to bring you back.' Not precisely word for word over the years, but Schemmel's tone of voice on this particular lineread. If I had to guess I'd say it was because at that point in my life, uh, death was kinda permanent? So wait, what do you mean died ONCE. Doesn't that apply to everyone?

This still wasn't enough to get me super invested in it though, it just didn't seem like something that would appeal to me that much. So a couple years go by, I don't think about it all that much, and then of course, TFS hits the scene and drops DBZ Abridged. So you know. As a shithead middle schooler with a shithead sense of humor I thought it was the best damn thing since sliced bread. (My biggest character flaw is that I still think a lot of Season 1 is genuinely funny)

And that was really the extent of my interaction with the franchise for the next several years. Say what you will about DBZA but they did manage to put it all together such that someone who had a nonexistent concept of what the original context was could grok it with not a lot of effort. Some time in high school, I think I was around 15, I decided to bite the bullet and read all the manga, as much to increase the funny factor of DBZA as sheerly for the sake of being able to say I had. Stick it to the other weebs, y'know. Now they can't say I didn't know anything about good anime. This was unfortunately at a time when all that was available online were dirty poor-quality scans and questionable translations, but read it I did. I went 'yep, that sure is about what I expected', and proceeded to get on with my life. GT came and went, I looked up and saw Battle of Gods coming out and went 'oh hey that's still a thing huh', kinda was peripherally aware of all the divisiveness of Super as it was happening, didn't really pay it much attention, just stuck to DBZA and quite a lot of wiki-ing.

And then, this time of year about three years ago now, in the middle of conversation with @prophecydungeon, Dragon Ball somehow came up. Something to do with 'Even though I'm not hugely into DBZ's story or whatever Toriyama does have some great character designs' (yes I was referring to Vegeta and Future Trunks at the time, no i will not stop being predictable, yes i am a parody of myself). They eventually brought up the DBS Broly movie and said, and i quote: 'that was a solid 1.5h of unbelievably fun and wacky animation'. Having seen the Gogeta vs Broly part of it on twitter and been like 'damn that animation's kinda off the hook actually, good for them good for them', my response was to be like. Oh word? I've got a spare hour and a half to kill, sure, fuck it, why not, time to watch DBS Broly.

I think that movie was precision crafted to hit me in the hyperfixation, if we're being honest. Opening on a solid 20 minutes of Lore and Worldbuilding and then having most of the rest of the runtime being mindless slobberknocker fun by way of some of the hardest animation flexes ever? I was done for.

In summation. I have been aware of Dragon Ball for a lot of my life, in that its presence was pervasive and enduring as I grew up. I may have been late to the game of actually wholeheartedly enjoying it, but enjoy it I do. Dragon Ball is the roots of a vast tree of anime, and in reading it I began to understand why that is. I respect it for that, and I love it for that. My current fixation may have shifted, but as far as time devoted to one individual thing goes... it took me a year and a half to watch my way through all of the anime and read all of the manga. ALL of it. So there's something good in there, I'd say.

[liaromancewriter]

Control What You Can Control

Premise: Ethan has second thoughts about a new phase in his life.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff Words: 1,100

A/N: Late submission for @choicesflashfics week 58, prompt 2. I'm also using week 59, prompt 3.

The summer sun was high in the sky, its sharp rays shining through the treated glass ceiling. Where the city streets battled sweltering temperatures, the hospital atrium was a cool and bright hub of activity. Patients, visitors, nurses and doctors glided around each other like actors on a stage.

From his vantage point on the seventh-floor gallery, Ethan Ramsey watched the familiar scene unfold below. There was a time when he’d stand at the windows of his old office and gaze down at the emergency drop-off area. Sometimes, it was the only time he had to himself in the day to just think.

There was a simplicity to his life he missed now that he was chief of medicine. He missed working with patients most of all, solving the puzzle of what brought them to the hospital, that moment when a diagnosis just clicked.

Now, it was all over, he sighed morosely, tightly gripping the edge of the steel handrail. And he wished he could go back and do it all over again.

“You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders, Chief. Having second thoughts about the wedding?”

Ethan rolled his eyes at the glib comment from Tobias Carrick, his former nemesis slash colleague slash occasional friend slash permanent pain in the ass.

“No, just contemplating how much lighter life would be without your unsolicited commentary,” Ethan shot back sarcastically.

He scowled at the other man over his shoulder. “It's like mental weightlifting, really, and more intense than any wedding jitters.”

“Who’s having wedding jitters?” Cassie Valentine asked absently, eyes on her phone as she joined them.

“Your fiancé,” Tobias smirked. “His sigh was ponderous enough to sink the Titanic. Might want to check if you can get your deposits back.”

Cassie’s gaze zigzagged between them before her green eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Tobias, are you riling Ethan up for no reason?”

“How could you ask me that?” Tobias feigned offense.

Ethan grinned when Cassie stared Tobias down, using her haughtiest and most severe expression. It was one he’d seen her use only when someone or something truly vexed her and reminded him of why people called the Valentines American royalty.

For once, Ethan was glad not to be on the receiving end of it.

Tobias held his palms up in a universal gesture for peace, but Ethan could see him sweating bullets. Served him right, he thought. Ethan grinned wickedly as the other man made some excuse and rushed off.

“Are you having second thoughts about the wedding?”

Ethan silently groaned at Cassie’s question. He looked away from his perusal of Carrick’s retreating back to find her watching him. She was more curious than concerned, and he figured that was a good sign.

“Not about the wedding, no,” he said, taking her hand in his. “I was just reflecting on this past year, everything that’s happened.”

Cassie peered into his eyes, and he knew she could read him like an open book. “You’re having second thoughts about your job.”

“Maybe.” Ethan shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m enjoying the challenge, finally having the power to change things from within. And god knows the residency program needs an upgrade. But…”

“You miss seeing patients, doing research,” she finished astutely.

“Yes,” Ethan admitted, leaning against the railing. “Oh, what the hell.” He crossed his arms defiantly. “I sometimes, very rarely, mind you,” he warned, “miss teaching interns too.”

Cassie burst into laughter, her eyes twinkling as she threw her head back in an uninhibited display of amusement. Her laugh was loud and contagious, making everyone’s head turn in curiosity.

“You miss interns,” Cassie gasped out the words, still chuckling. “That’s like the funniest thing I’ve ever heard!”

Her shoulders shook, and tears leaked from the corner of her eyes.

“It’s not that funny,” Ethan grumbled, somewhat annoyed by her reaction.

He shook his head and turned to walk away, but Cassie held up a hand to stop him.

“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely, lips upturned in a smile. “I shouldn’t have laughed. But, I’m trying to reconcile the man I met in intern year with the one standing before me.”

“That was then. This is now. People change,” Ethan muttered.

When Cassie threw him a disbelieving look, he unfolded his arms and rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. I don’t actually miss interns.”

“Thank god.” Cassie leaned into him. “You had me going there for a second.” She slipped one arm around his back. “Seriously, though. My grandfather always taught us if we don’t like how something is, change it.”

“This is the same grandfather that threatened to cut you off when you applied to med school instead of joining the family business?” Ethan asked skeptically.

“Yes, but,” she said, waving her hand dismissively, “he’s right more often than he’s wrong. My point is, Ethan, it’s up to you to find a way to make the job your own.”

“What does that even mean?” he said, confused. The job was the job. He knew that going in.

“Take shifts in the community clinic, take over the care of your former patients, undertake a research study.” Cassie listed things off on her fingers. “You can be the chief of medicine and a doctor. Balance your workload by hiring a medical director to do the things you don’t enjoy or won’t have time for.”

Cassie pressed on when he remained silent. “Naveen chose you because you’re what Edenbrook needs, not because you’ll do the job like anyone else would.”

Ethan turned over her words in his head, thinking through the ramifications of changing things. It could be done, of course. There was at least one hospital that he knew of that did what Cassie was proposing. Maybe there were more?

“I need to think about this,” he said eventually. “That’s good advice, though.”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” Cassie laughed. “I’m the head of Edenbrook’s famed diagnostics team, after all, and pretty remarkable at diagnosing what’s wrong.”

“And so modest, too,” Ethan quipped, placing a swift kiss across her lips. “Thank you.”

“Someone brilliant once told me, ‘Control what you can control.’ Well, this is something you can control,” Cassie added when he smiled at hearing the familiar words.

He folded her in his embrace. “Brilliant, you said?”

“Handsome, too,” Cassie smirked. “Alas, his tongue can be acerbic, and he refuses to do dance challenges with me on TikTok.” She snickered. “But, I love him anyway.”

He lowered his head, lips hovering above hers, tantalizingly close. “Then it’s a good thing he loves you too.”

And then he kissed her.

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

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate @zealouscanonindeer

[salty-an-disco]

For ParaCold... Pre-Relationship 6, General 6, General 13, Love 11, Love 13, and/or Domestic Life 12? (Yes I am asking a lot, feel free to only answer one of these if you'd prefer! I just love your thoughts on them always~)

(I freakin' knew you'd come at me with the asking sheet lol /aff /pos)

Ship Questions Redux

Pre-relationship 6. What was their flirting stage like?

Veeeeery awkward. At least from Paranoid's perspective; the moment she started consciously flirting, she felt like a shelf full of glass jars constantly shaking and dropping everything onto the floor. She'd go out of her way to compliment Cold's additions to any convo or their appearance, all while sweating bullets and feeling like a giant fuckin' buffoon.

Cold, meanwhile, never registered anything he did as 'flirting', but when they saw Para actively flirting, it found the sight very amusing, and started going out of its way to compliment her back and even say some suggestive lines (cue Paranoid.exe stopping working and going into overdrive)

General 6. How do their personalities complement each other? How do they clash?

I mean– we already talked about this at lenght like aikskdmdjdmd

Cold is uniquely equipped to help Paranoid calm her nerves and look at situations with a more pragmatic view, while Para can make Cold consider being less reckless if only for other sakes, how they can read each other, the way their actions often clash but also helps them grow– aaaaaaaagggghhhh

General 13. Which one thinks they aren't good enough for the other, if at all?

Oh, they both have their own form of Imposter Syndrome.

Para knows she can unlikable to others, with how intense and inquisitive she can be, and she knows it's hard to approach her when she's already expecting the worst from others. And that's fine!! She can live like that, it's safer if others don't even try to approach cuz she seems a bit too prickly. And she often wonders if Cold would've felt the same if they weren't born from the same being–

Cold knows it's difficult. Knows others find it unsettling or menacing. And it's fine with that, really, it's a flattery that so many people think of it as an uniquely evil being. And Paranoid is no exception, she was definitely afraid of it in multiple occasions, but she still puts it aside to try and work with them. They're sure she wouldn't want anything to do with it if it didn't insistently follow her and got into her personal space, but it selfishly wants her attention. And if they're evil and scary and dangerous anyway, why bother if it's being a little selfish too?

Love 11. What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

I like the idea of Cold calling Para 'Dots' cuz of her plumage patterns. A cuter way to look at the markings that triggers Paranoid so much. She was very taken aback by it when it was first used, but didn't mind it and even came to like it.

I think Para definitely calls Cold some of the many nicknames the others gave her to tease her. 'Cool Guy' is one of her favorites for this. Avoids names like 'heartless' tho, cuz she noticed how those seem to actually get to Cold (it's very subtle, but she learned to read him at this point).

Love 13. How do they make up after an argument? Who is the first to apologize?

Depends on the argument, and how much one was at fault over the other. Para definitely apologizes as soon as she realizes she was being unfair/going a bit too far. Cold doesn't verbally apologize– almost never, but it does change its behavior when they notice how it upsets others and tries to make up for their actions through other ways.

Domestic Life 12. Who likes to dance with, or sing for, the other?

I know many have Cold with good singing voice hcs, but personally, I think he'd rather whistle than sing. And they have a very haunting but weirdly beautiful whistle, and can make many melodies with it. Para finds it weirdly comforting, so Cold will sometimes whistle for her.

[tobiasdrake]

Oh man, the train fight blew my mind when I first watched this. It's just so cool.

Logan and this yakuza guy are up on top of the train, both with blades jammed into the roof to keep from falling off, while deadly obstacles whip past.

You know, the funny thing is, I'm actually not sure how much danger Logan's in here. His healing factor has been drastically reduced by Viper's nanites, which is something he's still coming to grips with. He doesn't know what happened to him but he has gunshots that are healing very slowly.

Like. They're still healing, I think. He took a shotgun blast to the chest at the start of the funeral fight and shrugged it right the fuck off, so he's obviously not hurt as bad as a normal person shot in the chest with buckshot point-blank would be.

But it sure is taking its sweet time recovering, for reasons he doesn't yet understand.

So. Like. If one of these signs smashes into the back of his head, that's going to hurt a lot.

But I'm actually not sure how bad it would be for him. Any ordinary man, it would take his head clean off. But Logan's invulnerable skeleton would go right through that sign unfazed, so I think the only damage would be to the skin of whatever part of his head struck it? Which would absolutely get deleted from his body, no question.

I don't know. I'm very curious about the physics of Logan's head slamming through an object at 200 MPH.

In any case, this is a fun and creative place to stage a fight, even if it does have to be with Rando McSomeGuy. They're forced to spend so much time trying to figure out how to even exist up here that they can barely even manage to fight each other.

Logan beats this guy by faking him out that there's a low obstacle coming that they need to jump over.

So that he jumps too and gets nailed by a high obstacle instead.

And he's gone. He's just gone. I can't actually get a clear shot of him getting hit because they're moving so fast. It hits him so fast that he's erased from time. His death lasts three frames of video footage.

Then Logan sees this guy in the back.

And he's like, "What if I let physics turn me into a bullet?"

The kind of attack that only a man with the confidence of invulnerability can perform.

My favorite part is the dude, who sees a hairy knife-bullet shooting his way at 200 MPH and decides, "Yeah, I can stab that."

Fucking gets up to meet Logan halfway. You, my dude, are getting an F in this physics class.

The F stands for Fucked because even if you hit him, this was only going to end one way.

[freaking-jeepers]

taeyoung headcannons

i've recently been a bit obsessed with tae so i figured why not share some stuff with the class!

a whole bunch of bullet points below the cut...

a comfy clothes advocate. its not comfy? its not fashion. hoodies, big jackets, baggy overshirts; you name it, he wears it

speaking of, he lives in corduroy trousers. honestly, why be uncomfortable these days? he’s already got so much work to do

he also never wears black. he feels too edgy and out of place when he wears it. plus, that was t’s thing when they were thirteen

tae absolutely adores animals. yes, we know this. but you must understand: he LOVES them. he picks up stray birds, chases after foxes, talks to squirrels. growing up with a dog really brings something out in you

his favourite animals are bats though, closely followed by dogs. something about baby bats just gets to him

despite the whole 4town shabang, tae’s still an introvert. he doesn’t really like being the centre of attention, and it took almost their entire first tour to be somewhat okay on stage. why do you think he doesn’t have a single solo line in any of their songs?

he’s very upfront though. if someone’s out of line for whatever reason he won’t hesitate to present his thoughts. it’s not in a harsh way or anything, but he automatically announces a differing opinion, even if it’s just that someone thinks that minecraft is bad

yeah that’s right, he’s a gamer. he wouldn’t call himself good at video games but he grew up with a ds… and he plays a lot with z and jesse

tae bleaches his hair. yep. you heard me. that blonde is not his natural hair colour… kind of

tae’s hair is naturally brown with an assortment of random blonde strands. out of the band, aaron t is the only one to have seen this in person since tae’s been dyeing it since he was fourteen. t loved how it looked back then, but tae despised it, hence the bleaching (fanart coming soon i got you)

during that fourteen-year-old era, tae also dyed his tips bright pink… and he wants to die his hair green or blue one day

this man was a straight A student, like, he cried when he got a B in maths once and t got an A*

(using an english school system) tae took history, geography, german and psychology (and of course english, maths and sciences) in high school. english was by far his favourite subject, and he reflects his love for language through writing a lot of 4town’s lyrics

i'll probably do one of these for each of them!

[ghostboy-art]

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

By: Queen

anytime i refer to them as gay I mean that with our silly human terms. obviously. an angel and a demon dont apply to our silly little terms.

im so gay :>

this is filled with typos and ramblings. i wrote this at 2:00am. apologies.

this is a surface level rant on my part. honestly if i had the time and research skills id look up the context of why this was written and how its been used in media up till this point. honestly i might. either way its fairly surface level.

This song is heard when Crowley is going back to Aziraphale in season 2 after he found out about the book of life erasing thing. After listening to this song I have to say. THIS IS AMAZING. obviously the song is good its queen.

Crowley's songs are always queen songs and given the title and given Aziraphales regular dress and general pop culture knowledge i think we know who the “good old fashioned lover boy” is.

This is obviously a romance song but similarly to “A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square.” the lyrics fit their relationship so nicely!!! (as well as being an absolute bop. LISTEN TO THIS GODDAMN SONG. i like the part at 1:44. so cheery!!!)(also this is why Neil Gaimen is AWESOME such small details in the fucking SONG a fucking BENTLEY plays.)(its like 1:09am and im still up after not getting sleep last night and prob none today so ima go on tangents like this hehe)

“Dining at the Ritz, we'll meet at nine

(One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine o'clock) precisely

I will pay the bill, you taste the wine

Driving back in style, in my saloon, will do quite nicely

Just take me back to yours, that will be fine

Come on and get it”

like come on man. “Dining at the Ritz” its Aziracrows THING. their whole routine is dine at the ritz, Aziraphale eats and crowley drinks copious amounts of alcohol, Crowley is always seen paying the bill (or doing something of the sort), they drive in a cool fucking bentley (with a James Bond bullet hole window screen insert), and they go back to Aziraphales bookshop. and the “that'd be fine” matches Aziraphales general attitude when inviting Crowley back to his place in the 1st season and in older flashbacks. Now thats the most obvious. there are many other examples of lyrics that very conveniently match to them.

“Say the word, your wish is my command”

throughout history when Aziraphale and Crowley met up they did favors. whether it be making Hamlet successful, performing magic on the west end stage, getting holy water (“You go too fast for me Crowley.”YOU MF AZIRAPHALE WHYYYY) or magicing away some paint on a very old well kept jacket. they always do things like this for each other. focusing solely on Crowley's perspective he, throughout history, has always been the one to accept Aziraphales requests with little to no complaints. (until Armageddon i suppose)

even in season 2 he lets Aziraphale use his bentley. Although there is some bickering there, he still lets it happen. He doesn't sell books while Aziraphale is away and he even carries them around (the sleeve garters are a whole other thing in this scene)

now realistically the “good old fashioned lover boy” is, im sure, referring to both of them. also the song just feels gay. just listen to it. its gay. i swear.

Now. not saying it matches perfectly. obviously it doesn't but even the GO fandom links the two pieces of media on occasion(see second link). they are inexplicably connected, whether its false pattern recognition (i have currently forgotten the proper term for that. T-T) or intended by mr gaiman i think its so intriguing that the songs picked to play fit so nicely into the deeper narrative. this. is good media

“Write my letter, feel much better

I'll use my fancy patter on the telephone”

Essentially means smooth talking on the phone. Which you have to admit Crowley does to Aziraphale quite often. And Aziraphale writes letters. honestly its cute. specially im thinking of season 1 when Aziraphale is writing a note to Crowley while they are on the phone. its later in the season in the last ditch rush to stop the antichrist.

I used the bit of lyrics that fit them the best in the beginning of the rant. and time for my least convincing point. the vibe just fits them so well. the slightly old school beat with simple romantic lyrics. Its not anything overtly sexual. just the simplicities of romance. IT FUCKING FITTSSS!!!!

There is so much more but i dont want to make this 10000000000000000000 paragraphs long and i have other good omens stuff i want to rant about:>

just my opinion on a silly song that appears for like a minute in the show!

[just-a-floofy-catt]

ANOTHER DRABBLE WOOO ✨️✨️

(The bullet pointed ones tend to make less sense to anyone whos not me so just like, beware that ig lmao)

• Not long after Sun and Moon separate into different bodies

• Things have settled down after the events of sb and now things are running smoothly at the dc w the two of them.

• Sun was never let outside the daycare when they were together

• So now that theyre separate and some rules have changed due to alot of new staff and stuff, hes allowed to

• Hes curious

• Context : hes never met the Glamrocks before due to this, but he used to idolize them. He used to dress up as them and everything and always daydream about meeting them XD. He was just like the kids in that regard lol. He like really thought they were cool and its adorable. But obviously when all the virus shit happened he got too stressed to think about any of that.

• So, now that everythings even better than it used to be, his little glamrock interest starts back up in full swing

• (Also, the Glamrocks have kind of met moon. Just seen him from afar on patrol before, and also may have had an encounter or two w him when he was infected. But they dont know him properly or anythin)

• Sun finds out through the staff that apparently on the weekend afterhours, the band is gonna be having a practice session and run through on the main stage for a new performance. He gets like, super excited and begs Moon to ask if they can go watch, and to take him there

• Moon ends up asking some staff to arrange it and they do

• The glams are like, super curious but also a little put off/weirded out. Mostly cus theyve heard the dcas are weird or annoying (mostly sprouting from how sun can b a little much and moon can b a little scary at times. Their behaviour was amplified w the virus shit, making sun into an overbearing anxious mess and moon absolutely feral. Alot of staff didnt get good impressions from that and so rumors and shit spread alot)

• Freddy is mostly just curious and is just kinda assuring everyone hes sure itll be fine and that theyll be nice.

• Chicas actually kinda excited and trying to also be positive

• Roxy is convinced theyll be weird and childish and annoying

• Monty is also convinced theyll be freaky and annoying

• The day comes and Sunny shows up fully dressed up. He basically tried to imitate the glamrocks and its absolutely precious. Hes so damn excited and a lil nervous and shy.

• The glams spot him as hes bouncing over, holdimg moons hand and practically glowing, and their jaws just drop.

• Hes nothing like they imagined.

• Even roxy and monty immediately warm up a lil at realizing how hard he tried to look like them

• Its the cutest thing. They all think its so sweet

• He introduces himself and is just positively beaming, and a lil jittery. Bro is literally meeting his idols.

• Hes complimenting all of them and the way he looks at them makes them a lil flustered XD

• So they practice and all, like planned, and Sunny goes wild lmao. Whooping, cheering, whistling, everything XD. It makes them all feel a lil more energized than it probably should (he tends to have that effect :) )

• Afterwards, everyone just sits and talks and gets to know one another. Its nice.

• By the end of the night Sun tires himself out from all the excitement and falls asleep in Moons lap.

• Moon takes him back and bids everyone goodbye.

• Safe to say, they made a good impression on everyone and now theyve all decided that Sun must be protected and loved at all costs XD

(AND YOU TOO MOON DONT YOU DARE THINK YOURE SAFE FROM BEING LOVED AND PROTECTED)

(Omg now just imagining there being a silence between the glams when they leave and suddenly its just broken by Monty taking a deep breath and then saying, very seriously, "I would die for them." XD)

(Everyone immediately agrees)

(I should draw that)

• Oh, and Sunny is absolutely still their biggest fan

(Extra detail is that he 100% has plushies of all of them in his room and loves them dearly)

- overall tldr is that Sunny would be adorable trying to dress up like a Glamrock.

[lullabyes22-blog]

So I'm *still* thinking about the most recent FnF chapter, specifically that line Silco gives Jinx about making a kill and doing it right - because it almost reads as...merciful? coming from him, in that moment? Or like a deeper glimpse into how violence plays a part in his own actions and identity, and the standards he weighs that violence against. Idk it just gave me lots of food for thought, and I'm curious how you see the relationship between his rage/violence and himself, and what all's feeding into the reaction that scene got out of him?

Heeee I'm so glad you liked that part, and that it gave food for thought. It's absolutely something I'll be exploring in future chapters, and throughout the fic<333

"It's a little crude, I'll admit - the base violence necessary for change."

I go back to this line whenever addressing Silco's relationship with violence in FnF. Fundamentally, I write his character as - at least on the surface - an ideologue wrapped in the ruthlessly pragmatic skin of a hatchet man.

He wasn't born the strongest, or fastest, or smartest. But he's lasted as long as he has because he does what needs to be done, no matter how high the moral cost or how messy the consequences.

That doesn't mean he revels in the violence itself. If anything, by describing it as 'base', he acknowledges that he's corrupting the purity of his vision. But as he also states, "Topside won't listen to anything else."

His ends (Zaun) justify his means (drugs, gang violence, manipulation, murder). And yet the irony is that in his struggle to achieve freedom for the Undercity, he proves Marx and Du Bois' theory of how man is the product of his social conditions, and therefore cannot be the maker of his own freedom, much less his own happiness.

Silco is an extremely intuitive and self-aware character. I have little doubt he's cognizant of his own hypocrisy - or the limitations of his gamble. But he forges ahead anyway, because he's utterly possessed by his ideals even as he is the very antithesis of the idealism itself.

The man truly is a walking paradox - on the one hand willing to minimize mess by staging a coup against Topside through scare tactics, but on the other hand ready to kill his rival's children just to make a point; to give his underlings second chances to prove themselves, but ready to kick a man to death just to regain control over himself; to let his chem-barons, like Renni, live despite them conspiring against him, but to make plain that he'd kept her son as a hostage in his factory just in case she overstepped.

In FnF, his ethos is repeatedly described as "Cost and reward." I wanted to focus on that facet because he's undergone extreme violence himself at other's hands (psychologically, emotionally, institutionally). Yet each setback, despite scarring him, has also pared down his softer sensibilities, and made him sharper, colder, crueler.

He's a survivor, who has clawed his way to power from nothing. But he also understands that power comes with a price, and that its processes must be respected. There are aspects of it he enjoys, but also aspects that he recognizes as possessing both gravity and consequence - and which must be treated accordingly.

In FnF, we see that in his approach with the chem-barons: they speak violence as a crass language, and make a show of the power they've attained, because it's a means in itself rather than a tool employed for a greater end. His riposte each time is to drag them down to earth, humble them, humiliate them.

In making a spectacle, he imparts the message, "You have no real power and disrespect the cost of achieving it. Therefore you don't deserve it."

I also have an upcoming flashback scene of Jinx's initiation into his gang - her first kill. She is thirteen, and Silco quite literally looks her in the eye and orders her to put a bullet in a traitor's skull.

Do it, Silco thought.

It was but one of the hundred steps to forging her into polished perfection. To peeling away the moony-eyed child to expose that tungsten chilliness that Silco knew was at her center. Power was a commodity in their world. By dint of its nature, supply was limited. All scarcity came with cost—be it a rival chem-boss painting a bullseye between your eyes, or an ally sticking a knife in your back, or an underling seeking to steal your throne from under your feet. 

They all wanted to own what you possessed.

They all took without paying the price.

Silco had taught Jinx the language of knives. He'd showed her the intimacy of violence, not just as a display of force but a measure of skill.  Now she needed to master the final lesson. Anyone in the Undercity could wield a weapon. Anything in the Undercity could become a weapon. But at its core, a weapon was neither a toy for showy enjoyment nor a tool for sanctified self-defense. It was the purest and most absolute means of death.

He wasn't making Jinx a killer. He was teaching her the cost of survival.

About its winners—and losers.

This is also why I write his network as vaguely militaristic in its jargon, hierarchy and general efficiency. The men and women serving his cause are professionals: they execute a strategy, minimize waste and don't cause more damage than is necessary. Combat isn't a game to them; it's all in a day's work because in the end, violence isn't a glorified game, or a gory hobby.

It's a tool like anything else.

It's also why Sevika and the crew dislike Jinx - because she isn't driven by cool competence but rather her own demons: showily blasting Enforcers just to get the Hex-gem, turning a drug shipping operation into a massacre because she has a flashback, going into meltdown mode if something overwhelms her etc...

She's a wildcard.

No hierarchy is tolerant of those.

It's also ironic, because Silco is himself a wildcard, and at his core powered by the same unhinged instinct and unresolved trauma as Jinx. It comes out in his thirst for retribution against Topside - a thirst that shapes much of FnF's plot - and also in his antagonism towards Vi, whom he refuses to leave alone (although to be fair, FnF Vi is as violent as him and as volatile as Jinx).

In the scene with the raven, seeing Jinx torturing the bird (except she wasn't really - she just ended up hurting it because she misjudged her own strength when she grabbed it) reminds him of the conflict for Zaun's independence, and how he devolved into pure feral survival instinct - as well as the toll it took on him, his child, his crew, his city.

"Quick and clean - if you make a kill, do it right."

And yet inwardly, he questions if he did anything right. His child is unstable, his city is gutted, his brother is dead, his comrades are gone, and now he must confront the cost each morning in the ugly light of day.

Nothing has been quick and clean.

Nothing turned out right.

And he must live on regardless.

.-.b

[ohnowthatsfowl]

(Beak -> Normal mouth)

Nobody asked. But I'm in ANOTHER fandom (sparkles here please) Also excuse my lack of info i haven't watched kung fu panda in awhile but i just got into Shen so RELAX- Also also, I haven't drawn her yet because i don't know how bird-anthro's work. So gacha is my medium.

OC lore + other bellow.

To keep short we use bullet points,

She was born at a very inopertune time. Her mother was homeless, and her father had just died of an illness. So, When she was born in an alleyway, her mother used all the strength she could to get her cut and fed, before she bled out with the baby in her arms.

During her years as a baby, people would pass her around gongmen. When she was a toddler, though, somebody eventuality just stopped the chain, leaving her to run around, steal, barter, and do anything she could to get noticed and gain sympathy.

As she grew up, she followed the other kids' actions, including insults, fights, and even flying from other birds.

In her teenage years, she learned that partying could get her the attention she wanted. So much in fact, She would normally use the kung fu she'd picked up from the street to throw the singer off stage, and she would sing with the band instead.

She was so loud, in fact, she got arrested multiple times, not just for assault, but also for major noise complaints.

She does this regularly, so its not really an issue with citizens...unless their the victim.

Though, after Shen gets control of the palace, she is summoned under new (and old) laws to be put in the dungeon instead of the normal city jail. Though...her big mouth got her a much longer scentence.

Though she doesn't have a filter, Shen guiltily finds himself getting attached to her and her numerous escape attempts, making her third in command as his bodyguard. Despite how unethical it sounds, She's very effective, since she constantly gets attention from him.

She's very clingy onto him, but he's learned how to deal with it formally instead of just going nuts.

So with that out of the way, basic information. Since she's my self-insert, her gender and sexuality are the same as mine. Her animal is the Chinese Mwamei (i think that's how its spelled??? Oh yeah Mwamei is her name too.) and that's where she gets her loudness and singing from. She does manage to save Shen, despite the fact that his actions get him banned/exiled from most places, Mwamei still manages even out in the woods if she has to.

Other than that, her personality described in songs is as follows

Machine gun - Gumi

Pusher - Clear ft. Mothica (Shawn wasabi remix)

Die young - Kesha

I need their ship name :<

THIS IS A SELFSHIP OC! DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE PRO/COMSHIP, OR DISLIKE SELFSHIPPING! WHAT I'M DOING DOES NOT HARM YOU DIRECTLY! THANK YOU, HAVE A NICE DAY/NIGHT.

[mxnxdrama]

Behind the Mask: Self

See, this idea has been sitting on my head for a while, in which the Monodrama trailer also had Jungian Psychology undertones in it. More under the cut.

If memory serves right, the whole thing about the Jungian Psychology is 'the importance of individual psyche and personal quest for wholeness, focusing on concepts like the collective unconscious, archetypes, psychological complexes, and the process of individuation.'

That within every human being lies the potential for peak development, for perfection. That perfection can only be obtained by confronting one's "Shadow".

The Shadow being another term for one's unconscious mind. Within this Shadow lies all the aspects of one's potential that have yet to be integrated into conscious. Either it be hidden talents, or negative traits you don't know how to deal with.

Once all of these unconscious contents are brought into consciousness, then one would have achieved a state called the "Self", one's fully realized potential, one's own perfect self.

Only if one were to be able to unionize one's conscious side, to one's unconscious side.

There are two prominent Sparkles that took up the majority of the Monodrama trailer. Red Mask Sparkle and White Mask Sparkle.

Thus, we can deduce that White Mask Sparkle as Sparkle's conscious mind. The outward one that everyone sees, and what she want others to see.

Meanwhile, Red Mask Sparkle is Sparkle's unconscious, where everything hidden about her lies, be it hidden talent, her negative traits that she doesn't want others to see, and other things she used to have kept buried in her psyche.

Sure, you can also take the Monodrama trailer as a reading of Aha's influence having come to fruition, thus finally making Sparkle get what it truly means to be Elation, at least in her point of view. But that doesn't eliminate the Jungian Psychology from it. In fact, it also supports it.

Through Aha's influence, Sparkle was able to confront her Shadow. The one thing holding her back still. Her acceptance to the Russian Roulette of 5 blanks, one live bullet is an indication of her accepting that confrontation. However, the trailer also suggests that the Shadow 'won', instead of Sparkle winning and thus achieving personal enlightenment.

What that suggests is that merging with the Shadow basically meant that Sparkle's Id now began its process of overwriting or controlling her Ego, and thus becoming her new 'Self'.

Though there can also be an alternate reading to it.

However, the mask Sparkle has now is a split between the white and red masks. Why is that? Shouldn't it be all red then if her Shadow did succeed in overwriting her inhibitions with it, especially with how she acts in the game?

Hence, I also have come to believe that the Monodrama trailer also was meant to mislead. To think that the Shadow won. But in the midst of the psychedelic, psychological madness, perhaps both Sparkle's conscious and unconscious formed a proper middle ground, thus made way to the proper integration of her positives and negatives. That integration was enough of a push needed for Sparkle to 'unionize' her consciousness with her unconsciousness. By accepting all her positives, and all her negatives, and thus became her own personalized 'perfection'.

The realization Aha had given her that life is just but a grand stage everyone is part of as actors, as well as her personal, internal enlightenment is what pushed Sparkle into being who she is today, positives and negatives be damned.

That amidst the swirling sea of chaos in her mind, she has the intuition to see things clearly. See things the way others could normally not.

Thus, a person in tune with their complete individuality, both the good and the bad, is a truly capable and dangerous and brilliant individual.

And Sparkle is very much in tune and in sync with her own sense of 'Self'.

[angy-mouse]

Puck Bunny Part 3

5.7k, no smut but definite M-rated banter and important plot (unless you're just here for the foursomes in which case you can skip this chapter ig but its pretty integral for the finale)

&lt;previous next>

do you wanna go on a date?

Read 5 Minutes Ago

You stared at the message, sent directly instead of through the group chat. As if that wasn't weird enough, you'd just gone on a date (with heavy air quotes) with the three of them and you had yet to get your panties back, thank you very much. You started drifting down memory lane and forced yourself to snap out of it. This was not lecture appropriate thinking.

You get another text.

with me, idk if that was obvious lol. sap + sam are stuck running drills all afternoon bc they suck

Okay, so not a group thing. That was good, at least. You might be able to walk after all. Except…

Honestly, you don't feel like sex. Not even mind-blowing, four-orgasms-in-a-row, written-by-a-woman sex. You were tired, and still sore, and really craving something fruity but also sweet? Maybe a chocolate orange. Point being you did not feel sexy and imagining a naked man only stirred thoughts of needing to buy lotion.

i was thinking shopping and dinner - my treat ofc - but whatever you want is cool too x

Fuck, you do need a sweater. Damn changing seasons making your sundress collection obsolete. 

You flipped your phone over and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath and rolling your shoulders back. Fuck the rest of the lecture hall, you were aceing this class anyway and you needed to check in.

Do you want to see Punz today?

You didn't even have to think about it. Of course you did, you wanted to see all three of them and maybe shove your face in their perfectly perky pecs, but so far seeing them entailed sex, which you were not up for. You didn't think for a second that Punz wouldn't accept a no, but you were 50/50 on whether you would cave at the first touch just to experience that intimacy.

Call yourself a slut, but it was kinda hard to deny a man who acted like you were a literal goddess. 

Next question: do you want to go on a date today?

As long as it was a date-date and not their last idea of a date, that would actually be nice. You were past the awkward small talk stage with Punz, so no fumbling or awkward silences should happen. Plus you already knew he would compliment you to the high heavens, which certainly couldn't hurt your mood.

So what were you waiting for?

You thought, but you couldn't find an answer. A handsome, fit guy who treated you amazing and was great in bed wanted to take you shopping and treat you to dinner. You'd have to be a fucking idiot not to.

You flipped your phone back over and found another text.

no pressure ofc, but id be a fucking idiot not to try spending time with you without the peanut gallery

You snorted, thumbs gliding over the screen to save him from his nerves. Even if he was cute when he rambled.

tbh shopping and dinner sounds exactly what I need rn

A beat where you thought too much and got lost for just a moment. You bit the bullet, putting a heart on the end and hitting send. Then, as an afterthought:

should I change?

what are you wearing?

For a moment you considered telling him you forgot about a lecture you can't miss, and you actually can't go and you're so sorry but maybe next time-

omg wait not like THAT

i just mean last two times i saw you you were wearing a cute asf dress and then that nice shirt with big sleeves and the black skirt so as far as im concerned anything you wear is perfect

He's talking about your lantern sleeve blouse. Something about the way he fumbles, not knowing anything about what things are called and only knowing that he liked them enough to remember makes you just melt.

oh lol well thank you. Did you wanna meet somewhere or…

The response is instant.

ill come pick you up! whens your last class get out?

You tell him and get a thumbs up and heart emoji pairing, then a gif of snoopy doing his happy dance that makes you laugh under your breath.

"Stop sexting in class,"

You flinch and clutch your phone to your chest before recognition kicks in and you glare at Niki. "I'm not sexting," you hiss. "Punz is picking me up for a date." She rolls her eyes. "An actual date." You didn't know why you needed her to be happy for you so badly. Maybe with both your long term best friend and slightly less long term boyfriend both kicked out of your life, you were just craving companionship. It would certainly explain your current disaster of a dating life. 

"Okay," she says but it doesn't sound like she means it. "Just so you know, I only have one romcom binge weekend in me a year, so if this harem breaks your heart, too, you're on your own." 

"I appreciated that, you know." She blinks like she wasn't expecting anything less than snark, but you meant it. You came into your dorm with eyes so full of tears you didn't even realize she was there until she was coaxing you into your PJs and shoving a carton of Ben & Jerry's into your lap. Suddenly your mysterious roommate you only saw once in a blue moon when your schedules rarely overlapped was the shoulder you were crying on, voice ringing through your ears promising you were still the baddest bitch and he was the loser here.

"It's no big deal," she finally decided. "You need to learn people don't deserve praise for not treating you like crap." 

You didn't have a comeback for that, so you finished class in silence.

"Do I get to meet this one, too?"

You can't fight your smile. "You want to?"

"Gotta make sure you're not dropping your standards. Again." 

"I changed my mind: fuck off." She curled her hands into a heart with a grin before you turned away, hearing her chase after you. 'Chase' very loosely translated to 'took four quick steps to easily catch up because she's a lot fitter than you.' Damn skinny people.

"If he just pulls up and honks, you are not getting in the car. Date ends there."

"Any particular reason?"

"A man who can't wait to get out of the car to greet you can't wait long enough for you to come."

You grinned over your shoulder as you walked into the afternoon sun. "Oh, believe me: not a concern."

"Ew,"

"You started it."

"And I'm finishing it." 

Tires screeching on pavement caught your attention, just in time to watch two students nearly get run over by a cherry red Challenger. You bit your cheek. "You don't think…" 

The car came to a stop right in front of the stairs (only because it was physically incapable of climbing them, you were sure) showing off the VAL-U sticker on the back window.

"I do think," Niki said solemnly. A single honk came from the car. "Oh, fuck no-"

"Niki, please," you begged as you watched Punz climb out of the driver's seat in a crisp collared shirt, buttoned only enough to be appropriate in public. You practically melted as he gave you that sparkling grin, running a hand through his blond locks as he climbed the stairs two at a time to join you. 

"I had one rule for you-"

"Sorry," Punz breathed out, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek, close enough you could feel the faint heat rushing through his face. "I slammed my elbow on the horn trying to unplug my phone."

You'd be embarrassed by the loud snort that left you if you weren't so grateful it drowned out Niki's, "you're lucky, valley."

"You look beautiful." It was hard to believe when you'd just sounded like a literal pig. At least, it would be if he wasn't looking at you like you hung the stars, hands sliding back on either side of your waist until he was holding you gently against him. His lips ghosted over yours. "I missed you, bunny."

You missed him, too. “You saw me two days ago,” you say instead, but you let your hands link against the nape of his neck as he gives you a soft kiss. Something more than a peck, but nothing you were embarrassed to do in front of Niki. Something just right.

“And it was painful,” he announced, squeezing you tighter against him like he knew it would make you giggle into his neck. “Forty-eight hours with Big and Rich for company.”

“Are you ever going to run out of demeaning nicknames for them?”

“Haven’t yet. Hi-” It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to Niki over your head. “Friend?”

That one was directed at you, so you hum an affirmative and gently peel yourself away to run through introductions. Punz only lets you get out of one arm, the other moving to hang over your shoulders with a squeeze that clearly said ‘that one stays.’ “This is my roommate, Niki. Niki-”

“Punz,” she mused, offering her hand. “I know all about you.”

“Is this a shovel talk?”

“No. I don’t talk before shoveling.”

“Niki,” you beg, but Punz gives her a firm shake.

“Big fan of that,” he declared with a grin. “I’ve got a buddy with a truck, we should get you two in contact.”

She nodded solemnly. “Alright,” she directed at you, “you can go on the date.”

“Niki!”

She took your keys off your bag. “I’ll take your car back to the dorm. Don’t get pregnant.”

“NIKI!”

“Bye, Niki,” Punz cheered with a cackle, arm around your shoulders keeping you from chasing after her to commit some mild manslaughter. “Nice to meet you!”

“Don’t say, ‘nice to meet you,’ when she’s humiliating me.” You got a kiss pressed to the side of your head instead of an apology as he started down the steps, dragging you along with. The gentle pressure of his arm on your neck solidified your feeling like a yappy chihuahua being tugged along by the leash. It all felt a stark difference to the usual sultry air that followed you around these three. This actually felt like a… date. Not a sex on the nearest surface date, but a proper meet the parents soon date. 

You tried not to think about how scary that was.

Instead, you thanked Punz as he held open your door, your hand in his as he helped you climb in. You held in a giggle as he shut the door behind you and raced around the hood like he was worried you’d leave without him. “What are we shopping for,” he asked as he threw himself into his seat, but you were distracted.

“Why do you have a suicide knob?”

He grinned, wide and toothy, tongue poking out as he used the knob to wiggle the steering wheel. “Because it’s fun.”

You buckled your seatbelt. 

“Oh, come on,” he huffed, pulling out of the parking lot. “I’ve never gotten into so much as a fender bender with this car.”

“This car?”

“Don’t say it like that! I haven’t gotten into an accident since I was a teenager, is that better?” 

“Yeah, and what are you now, twenty?”

“Twenty-five,”

“Oh my god, you’re old.”

You regretted it as soon as you said it. You were so not at the stage where you could make fun of each other and especially not something as potentially sensitive as his age and why he's still at University-

"Well, you're a brat, so I thought we made a good pair." There's a beat where your mind races, but Punz reaches over to take your hand off your lap and cuts it short. "That was a joke. I know you're not a brat." 

"Only a little bit," you admit, and squeeze him back, a little promise that you didn't take it harshly. "If you were serious about taking me shopping, I could use some warm clothes for fall.”

The car pulled to a smooth stop at the light, and he fixed you with a look like you’ve accused him of secretly kicking puppies. “Dead serious. I love shopping.”

“You’re clearly very passionate about this.” 

He took his stare off you to pull through the light, bringing your joined hands up to his lips. “Well, I have an addictive personality, a great credit score, and excellent fashion sense.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Hey, what’s with the doubt?!”

“Don’t get me wrong,” you promise, using your joined hands to gesture to his open shirt, “today’s pirate-with-no-inhibitions look is super sexy, and I’m a big fan of the pleather pants, but every other time I’ve seen you, you wore a hoodie and basketball shorts.”

“That’s not fair: you always see me after practice! I can't squeeze into these pants while I’m still sweaty.”

“Well, I’m very appreciative of your sacrifice.” You wait until he’s looking at you to pointedly eye up his thick thighs, practically seran-wrapped in black fabric. “Very appreciative.”

“Bunny’s secretly a pervert,” he accused, “God, I’m not a slab of meat.”

“Really?”

He finally broke, laughing so hard he hit the rumble strips and had to swerve back into the lane. “You’re such a little shit! You’re lucky it makes you lovable instead of annoying.”

“You three practically snap me in half every time I see you: I’m allowed some eye candy!”

“I’ll be your eye candy,” he promised, and flicked open another button on his shirt. “Boom.”

“Whoa, now,”

“Too hot?”

“I nearly creamed.”

“I hate you,” he wheezed, shoving the gearshift into park. “Get the fuck out of my car.”

“Rudeness!”

His hand snatched yours when you reached for the door. “Wait, I wasn’t serious!”

“I’m getting out!”

“No, wait for me!”

“I’m getting out, and I’m telling Sam you let me open my own door!”

“No, he’ll kill me!”

“Good!” Despite the snap, you can’t pry the smile off your face and you find yourself staying perfectly still in your seat as Punz races around the hood again. “Oh, Merci,” you chirped, taking his offered hand as you stepped out.

“De nada, my little bunny." 

His arm laid across your shoulders again like you were boyfriend-girlfriend on an average date. He even reached out to open the door for you as you walked into the mall. But you weren't boyfriend-girlfriend, you were a puck bunny brat. "Every time I think you're kinda sweet, you call me that." 

"It's a talent of mine: making an ass of myself. Where do you wanna look first?" 

“I usually go to Salvation Army.”

Punz started walking towards the Aeropostale, dragging you along with. “I’m offended you think I’d offer to take you shopping and take you to Salvation Army.” 

You started struggling, grabbing a fistful of his shirt to try and curb him. Your heels tried to find purchase on the tile, but he slid you across the floor like dragging a sled. “I’m a college student! And so are you, for that! I’m not letting you spend your food cash for the week on clothes for me- Jesus Christ, how are you this strong?!”

He stopped, but it had nothing to do with your attempts. He spun you in his arms as if you were nothing more than a doll to him, something he could carry with him and arrange however he wanted. The thought made you feel equal parts small and bratty, but his hands on your hips made you bite your tongue as he held you close. His eyes were stern, a slight tremble in his features betraying his nerves.

“Alright, I’m gonna tell you something, and I don’t want you to freak out.”

Oh, you were totally going to freak out.

“I didn’t want to say this so soon because it totally changes how people think of me, but you’re clearly going to fight me on this, so here it is.” He took a deep breath, eyes screwed shut in a wince. “I’m a trust fund kid. My parents are loaded.”

It didn’t click at first. Not until you blinked. “... oh my god?”

He nodded solemnly. “I know.”

It was a shock, the same way any new information about someone you knew was a shock: mild brain buffer as your mental file was updated. Other than that, though… You couldn’t seem to care. Other than, of course, another chance to mouth off. “Oh my god,” you performed, shaking his shoulders. “Eat the rich, Punz!”

“I’m not into butt stuff,”

“I hate you,” you lied, trying to push away. “I hate you and your gated mansion community-”

“I live in the frat house, it’s practically a homeless shelter.”

“You and your diamond studded underwear-”

“Where are you getting your information on rich people: Richie Rich?”

“You’re an old rich guy, too!” You gasped, clapping your hands on either of his cheeks. He gave a minor wince from the impact, but it was swept away just as quickly by rapt attention as you pressed your forehead to his. “Am I a sugar baby?” 

“Well, you haven’t actually let me buy you anything yet-”

“Wrong answer.”

He shook his head between your hands, essentially making you slap him repeatedly. “No, bunny, you’re not a sugar baby, not in the slightest. Now, can I buy you more clothes than you can ever wear?”

Your gaze narrowed, but it probably wasn’t as intimidating as you hoped when you had to cross your eyes to look at him. “You swear your wallet won’t feel it?”

“May lightning strike me down.”

It took a moment, but with not even a rumble of thunder, you supposed you had to believe him. “Alright,” you conceded, “but we’re going somewhere that actually carries my size.”

<3E>

“I’ve never been in a Torrid,” Punz admits to you as you walk in.

“Really? You don’t lurk in the lingerie section hunting for big women?”

“There’s a lingerie section?” He’s too excited at the prospect to entertain your sass, but evidently not too excited to take the pants you were looking at right out of your hands. “You’ll have to try everything on for me. Even though I’m adamantly opposed to anything that covers your legs.” 

You tried to take them back and he casually moved out of reach, adding a blazer to his haul. “Just because I’m built like an elephant seal doesn’t mean I’m actually insulated-”

“Hey-” You jump at the sudden appearance of a sales associate, a beautiful woman with an undercut and dangly earrings, and flush at the reminder that you were in public. She points an empty hanger at you sternly. “We don’t do self deprecation in here.” The hanger tip shifted over to Punz. “Are you not telling her how beautiful she is enough?”

You can feel your face turning purple as Punz claims, "I can't: I need to eat and sleep sometimes," and starts plucking one of everything off the racks without bothering to check sizes. 

"Wha- Punz! Stop that! I don't need-"

"What you need is to let me love you!"

Undercut woman has a giant grin as she turns to walk away. "I'll get a dressing room open for you. Name for the door?"

"I don't need-"

If Punz wasn't trying to smother you in twisted affection, you might've started to get pissed off at the way he interrupted you again. "Bunny!"

"You're gonna get a foot up your ass in a minute here!" 

"She don't bite," he insists, wrapping a thick arm around your neck to yank you against him. He starts pressing fat kisses to your hair, the kind where he just puckers his lips ridiculously and smacks them against you. The first few are gross. The next annoying. Then he starts cooing about she's just a sweet little thing and your attitude crumbles like a wall, entire body melting against him like a stray that's finally caving into affection. 

You can feel his lips curl into a wide grin against your head, but you can't make yourself rebuild that wall when he's nosing your hair away from your ear so he can whisper, "are we done being a brat, baby?" 

“...yeah,”

His finger crooked under your chin, gently lifting your lips to his for a soft kiss. “Yeah? My sweet girl’s gonna let me dress her up?” 

My girl.

You stole another kiss, dropping one on Punz’s jaw as you pulled away for good measure. “At least grab the right size, you big lug.” 

You may as well have promised him a puppy. His grin stretched wide across his face, bottom lip pulled between his teeth before he ducked his head, hiding from you. He nuzzled into your neck, puckering his lips so they just barely grazed your jugular, feeling your pulse race. “Yay,” he murmured, arm around your shoulders sliding down your back until he could grip your soft waist. “Because as hot as you look in this dress, I don’t approve of how the leggings hide away our tummy.”

“You mean my tummy?”

“I’m filing for joint custody. You don’t appreciate her enough.”

“I appreciate her just fine. It- fuck me, now I’m doing it! Give me something to put on!” 

He cackled, tugging your collar aside to check the tag and leaving you to rifle through the racks. “I’m gonna build you some outfits,” he promised, flicking through some camisoles to add to his armful. “And I wanna see every single one.” 

“I thought you wanted to make it to dinner at some point.” 

He found one in your size and handed you the completed stack. “Then you’d better run that cute ass into a stall for me. Ooh, swimsuit sale!” 

You huffed and rolled your eyes all the way to the back of the store and all the way into the dressing room until the door was shut behind you. You only allowed yourself the time it took to strip and redress to think about how warm you felt inside. How nice it felt to have someone who wanted to drape you in silks and pouted when you made him settle for overpriced plus-size fashion. Someone who was ready to watch you try on one of everything, knowing full well how long it’d take.

You settled the blazer over your shoulders and turned to the mirror, lips pressing together.

By no means were you ashamed of your body… but you leaned more towards ‘screw the world I don’t owe it to you to fit your beauty standards’ and less towards ‘I’m fat and fuckable.’ 

The flared pants sat just too low to tuck away your muffin top. No matter how you tugged on the camisole, it couldn’t cover that inch of skin- unless you wanted to walk around with your bra out.

“Shoppin’ for my baby!” Your gaze snapped to the door, hearing the rhythmic shuffle of feet. “Shoppin’ for my bunny!” You slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing- if he heard you, he might stop singing. “Shop ‘til you drop! Bop-bop-bop! Gonna get a crop- top! Yeah, I could’a been a rapper. Fuckin’ missed my calling.”

“You so did,” you called out, threading the buttons on your blazer as you bumped the door open. “What would your rapper name be?”

“Lil’ Pucky,” he called back without hesitation as he turned. Blood rushed through your ears as his jaw dropped open, eyes cruising up and down your form so intensely you worried you’d forgotten to put clothes on at all. “Hello, bunny.”

“Hi,” you giggled. You gave a twirl and laughed when a swoon of “oh, ass,” passed his lips. “You like?”

“I love.” He groped for your waist, pulling you into his chest until you could feel his heartbeat through your right tit. “I changed my mind: you can wear pants, but only these.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yup.”

“These are better than the leggings?”

“Leggings are too tight. Anything that delays me from getting in your guts for more than six seconds is going in the bonfire.” 

Your hand came down on his shoulder and he pretended it hurt, stumbling into one of the plush chairs. “That’s why you wanted to take me shopping! You figure if you buy me enough, you can get rid of everything you don’t like!”

He couldn’t even pretend to feel guilty, a grin wider than a fucking canyon stretching across his face. “It’s gonna be short dresses and tight pants if I have my way.”

“And what makes you think you’ll get your way?”

He held out his hand, a silky two-piece bathing suit with a halter strap top and a skirt layered with frills dangling from his fingers. “Because I found this in your size-” his other hand revealed a mesh shopping bag half full, “and enough panties for Sam to steal as many as he wants.” 

You accepted the swimsuit to try on, but gave an apologetic smile. “I’m very picky about my underwear: I don’t want you to be upset if I don’t wear what you pick out for me, okay?”

“Don’t worry, I’m working off a reference.”

There’s two beats where you process his words before you’re beating him with the swimsuit. “You’re the one who ended up with my panties?!” 

Punz didn’t even move to block your hits, hand coming up to lay over his heart. “I pledge my allegiance every morning, first thing.” 

“Where did you hang them?!”

<3E>

“I can carry something, you know.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” Punz piled the bags all onto one arm as if he took your offer as a personal offense to his strength and very manhood, looping the other around your waist. “Taking a fine lady out and making her carry her own bags- who do you think I am?”

You’re getting used to his dramatics: you barely acknowledge him as a stall catches your eye. “Ooh, boba!”

His arm doesn’t budge around you, but it doesn’t keep you in place like you’ve experienced before. Your path shifts towards the drink shop and his elbow pulls straight for barely a second before he shifts right with you, letting you lead him wherever you desired. “That milky stuff with the gross balls?”

“Yes, but no.” There’s laminated menus on the tables so you pick one up and scan the flavors. “You’re thinking milk tea with tapioca pearls. I get fruity tea with popping pearls.”

“You’re really cute, but I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I’m gonna blow your mind right now.” You slipped your card out of your purse as you walked up to the counter to make sure Punz knew you were buying this time. “Hi, can I get a large strawberry fruit tea with green apple pearls?” 

He barely gets out the total and asks for a name for the order before Punz slaps his card on the machine from the side. "'Punz': exactly how it sounds, but with a 'Z'."

"I was gonna pay for it, asshole!" The only response you get from him is his signature on the pad- which is nothing more than a colon and a 'P'. You stuck your tongue out right back, skipping out of reach to snatch up a straw from the pick-up counter. "You're gonna let your guard down sooner or later." 

"You make it sound like you're gonna kill me." You drag the straw across your throat. "Wow," he snorted, pecking the tip of your nose, "total savage." 

“I know. I’m totawy scawy.”

“Fwightening.” 

“You’re a dork,” you informed him with a huff of laughter, stabbing your drink as soon as it arrived. “Poison check,” you claimed, taking the first sip. You skewered a pearl for him before handing it over. “Alright, taste that thang.” 

You waited eagerly as the straw passed his soft lips, on the edge of your nonexistent seat as he took his first sip.

He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s alright.”

You rescued your drink before smacking his arm. “No taste!” 

“It’s about as good as fruit can get, but it still tastes like fruit. Give me a burger any day.” 

“I’ve never met such a dumb man,” you huffed, sipping for yourself.… Okay, so it had too much ice, but it was still delicious!

“Liar,” Punz accused as you started your walk again. “You’ve met Sapnap.”

You bumped into him with purpose. “Yeah, but it’s cute on him.”

“Ouch, you’re really wounding my pride there, bunny,” he drawled, making sure his sarcasm seeped through every word. “As if I could be jealous of Sappy.” 

You could feel your lips curling into an evil grin around your fat straw before the thought of what to say even formed. “I don’t know: he’s cute, and strong, and a gentleman, and he’s great with his tongue-”

“Alright, you’re pushing it!” A cry left your lips as he snatched your cheek, pinching only hard enough to pull it around a bit. “Talking about another freaking guy this much, even if he is my teammate-” 

“Leggo uh meee!”

He gave another yank before releasing you with a huff. “Such a little brat…”

His tone changed. It was slight, but there was a definite change- enough to make you stop and backtrack. Did you push too far? Was he actually insecure and being compared to Sapnap was a jab in the gut? Or maybe he was just getting sick of your attitude when he was treating you like a princess. 

“I’m sorry.” Punz let out a small noise from the back of his throat that you took as prompting to continue. “I don’t know why I even said that, but I’ll try not to be such a- such a brat.”

“It’s okay,”

“It’s not-”

“Why are you upset?” He turned to look at you properly, pulling you to a stop once he saw your expression. 

You huffed, frustrated that you had to say it out loud, but more frustrated at yourself. “Because you’re wonderful to me-” His hand came up to your cheek, warm and soft, and suddenly your eyes were clouding up. “And you don’t deserve all the snapping I do-” There’s a lump growing in your throat. “And I don’t even know why I say that kind of shit because I’m having a great time with you-”

“Oh, honey bunny.” You caught a glimpse of his handsome face twisted into concern before he was pulling you into a nook for some semblance of privacy, setting your bags on the floor before hauling you tight against his chest. “Oh, you’ve really worked yourself up over this, huh?” You know it’s not really a question, but you find you’re nodding into his shoulder anyway. You don’t even feel like you’re crying: there are tears streaming out of your eyes, but that’s it. Almost like someone’s left the faucet on and forgot about it. 

Punz’s lips press firmly against your head, hands rubbing circles against the tense muscles in your back, like he was trying to find the button that would make it all better. “Can I tell you something, bunny?” His lips briefly twitch into a tiny smile when you nod mindlessly against his shirt. “I know you’re having a good time. And I am, too. And I know you just like chatting shit. Makes you feel strong, huh? Like you’re big and in charge?” You didn’t even realize it before he put it into words, but he was exactly right, earning another nod. “And you wanna know something else?

“I like chatting shit, too.” You pull back as you realize the tears have stopped, and he only lets you go a few inches before he’s holding you still with warm hands on your waist. “The boys told me all about your drive before our movie night. You know how Sammy threw his little tantrum over your seatbelt?” His choice of words pulls a throaty laugh from you that makes him grin. “We all want different things when we’re with you, bunny. Sam wants to make sure you’re taken care of, so when you brat, he’s gonna nod and take it until you run out of steam and ask him nicely, then he’ll give you anything you want.

“But I kinda like to fight, bunny. Nothing mean, but when you poke me, I wanna poke back. I think it’s fun just like you do, and I think we could have a good time pushing each other to the limit to see who gives.” His lips twitched. “Now, Sappy: I think that boy just wants to die under a big woman, so you gotta watch out for him, make sure he’s still breathing when you sit on him-” 

You try to smother your laughter because this is serious, but then you’re imagining a headline that says, ‘Local Man Attempts Suicide By Pussy,’ and you break into manic giggles that send you right back into Punz’s chest as he laughs with you. His hand rubbed up and down your back, slow and soft, melting your form against his. 

You turned your head once the giggles calmed down, taking a deep breath of his cologne while you listened to his heart. “I still feel bad,” you admitted. “Like I pushed too far.”

“I promise you didn’t, baby.” The speed of his answer makes you melt just a bit more. “I get being worried about it, though, because I do, too…” He hummed as he thought. “Sappy said you guys decided on a safe word?”

You nodded against him. “Pineapple,”

“Pineapple. Okay, so how about we both promise that if the other crosses a line, we say ‘pineapple.’ Then we know it’s an actual ‘no’ and not just more playing. How’s that sound?” You give another nod that he returns with a squeeze. “You want me to take you home, baby?” You’re shaking your head without a second thought, pressing yourself deeper against him. You get another squeeze in response, a silent, ‘I won’t leave you.’ “You wanna get some dinner?”

You forced yourself to pull away, his fingertips trailing over your body as long as they can until they hook onto yours. You beamed at him. “That sounds really nice, old man.”

Punz laughed. “Let’s go, then, brat.”

[afniel]

Hey so this came up talking to my buddies who are in charge of hiring at their workplace yesterday, and I know taking Advice About Employment from someone who hasn't been employed in mumble mumble years is on its face a little stupid-sounding, but if you're at the interview stage and you've heard that you should ask questions but you're not sure what and also you're sure you're going to be nervous:

Interview the interviewer.

Seriously. The more you can shift your mindset from, "oh gods if I can't get this paycheck I don't know what I'll do," to, "I might not even want this job, but I'm going to interview this person and find out if it's right for me," the better. And obviously you still do need the paycheck and you might still take a job you don't want, but your confidence in the interview will skyrocket if you can pull this mental switch on yourself.

Take notes throughout. No, really, bring paper or a notebook and something nice to write with, and jot things down. If they raise an eyebrow (they shouldn't!) just tell them you're making notes on what you want to double back and ask them about. This shows you're an engaged listener and also polite enough to not interrupt, but firm enough to not let questions slide entirely.

When you get to the end and they ask you if you have any questions, this is where you ask them about workplace culture and their own job and performance. What's it like working there? How is onboarding handled? How is communication handled? If it's a shift job, what's the procedure for finding coverage? Is there room to advance? Do they promote from within? Most of the questions they ask you about past jobs are fair game for you to ask them about their current job too, like: What challenges do they face at work? Daily? Monthly? Long-term? What do they enjoy about the workplace? What would they change about it? Depending on the type of work you can ask them about what kinds of projects, cases, clients, etc. are typical and have they had any atypical ones, and how were those handled?

Seriously, the more you ask from the point of view that the interview is a fully equitable, two-way process, the better. Obviously in many ways it's not, but again, this isn't about the reality, this is about Performing Confidence. They want to see if you're a good fit for them, and vice versa, you want to see if they're a good fit for you.

Again, yes, I haven't been employed for...timespan that I'd actually have to do math on. Despite being an introverted weirdo with a not very impressive CV, though, the last time I had a job, I beat 250+ applicants for a job that I had no real prior experience in, mainly on the strength of my interview, which I basically treated like a fun little jaunt up to San Francisco to see if this was a place that I felt like working. Not in a flippant way, but still. I don't remember being stressed at all. I mostly remember getting lunch afterwards and it was soup in a sourdough bread bowl. Did I have nerves? Eh! Probably! Dunno! I mostly had broccoli cheddar soup and a job offer after a few more days.

Like yes there's no magical way to guarantee success at any given interview, but I have a surprising number of friends who handle interviewing and hiring and they are always praying for people who can do this in an interview. This is as close to a silver bullet as you can get. Being engaged and asking questions is THEE ONE THING they most want in interviewees but they very rarely get it.

So yeah fake it 'til you make it, but fake it in a very specific way where actually you're interviewing them to see if their job offer would be a good fit for you, not the other way around. You can, in fact, say, "I don't think this place will be a good fit for me at this moment, but thank you so much for your time." Yeah, you probably won't, but the point is that it's a real option and remembering that is empowering. Shift the focus of power in the process, even if it's just in your own mind, because I guarantee it's not just in your own mind if you can do it.