#like i have a job and school what am i doing

[yuurei20]

Summarized transcript of the Twisted Radio episode with Diasomnia! 🐉🦇⚔️⚡️

Highlights: A very good episode, all the Diasomnia VAs love their characters and each other’s characters and each other and it is very obvious when they interact.

Disclaimer: These are not direct quotes, this is all general summarizations and paraphrasing~

Begins with how they are happy to be all together in one place, for the first time in two years.

The opening talk set by last week: what do you find yourself buying when you travel?

⚡️It seems 🦦-kun wanted to buy a dragon sword… 🐉 I’ve bought one before. 🦇 Why wwww 🐉 In elementary school

On topic: 🐉 I love milk. Every time I go some place I buy milk to drink. A recent musical I was in traveled nationwide and the milk in Hokkaido is different depending upon the area. I was so happy.

🦇I like to get things to remind me of the trip. It doesn’t matter what they are. It doesn’t even have to be related to the area. Just a prize from a Game Center or a gacha toy or anything is fine.

⚔️ Dragons. Apparently they’re growing in popularity. 

He talks about how around high school everyone loses interest, but then you become an adult and are like “actually yeah dragons are great” ww

🦇 We should get on that bandwagon. Officially recognized by Diasomnia ww ⚔️ We have the most noble and beautiful dragon of them all 🦇 Out of all the dragons that there are, he certainly stands out

(Everyone is laughing so much they are having so much fun)

⚡️I like getting fruit or something that was made from things grown in the area, even if it’s temporary, to remember the taste

(⚡️ is the host so it is his job to keep them on subject ww there are a lot of cuts in this episode, they must have talked for so long and needed to cut it down)

Fan letter: I had a dream where I talked about how wonderful Malleus-sama is for ten hours. What strange dreams have you had before?

⚡️I have been seeing the same dream since I was a kid. A kind of horror dream. The same dream where I am being chased by something. 

⚔️ There are dreams I had as a kid that really left an impression on me. I remember them pretty well. Like one where I became a character from a cartoon that could fly. I became one of the main characters. An enemy would appear, someone would say “Let’s go!” and they’d all naturally start to fly. And even though I was a main character, I’d say “Let’s go!” and I was the only one who wouldn’t be able to fly. Everyone else flew off and I couldn’t. I was the main character and they all left me behind. I started crying that I couldn’t fly and then I woke up.

🦇 I’ve had a dream about situation where I could fly, too. Even though I could fly, when I jumped from somewhere high up instead of going straight I would go fly upwards, then think, “Yeah, I can fly,” and that is when I could go forward. I perform safety checks within my dream.

🐉 In a dream I had in university I could fly, but just some light floating. Everyone else travels very quickly, and at first I can as well, but then I get lower and lower, and soon I am floating about 5cm. I’m technically flying, but…I saw that dream a lot.

(This entire story ⚔️ is in the background dying of laughter)

About Malleus

He was very mysterious when he first appeared. ⚡️ says he had the feeling from the start that he was a very good character. 

🦇 He had an atmosphere of someone who is difficult to go near.

⚔️ I like Malleus-sama even more now than I did before. Not just what about him that is firm but his soft side, his warm side, his cold side—we can see so many aspects of his character now, which has made him even more captivating. Because he is so mysterious something even more wonderful than what I had imagined has emerged—that is the impression I have of him now.

🦇 They did a great job with his casting. I didn’t really know anything at first, but doing this for so long, you can tell how perfect 🐉-kun is for this part. 

🐉 I’m so happy :D

🦇 Of course everyone wants to know more in the beginning because of his cool voice, but 🐉-kun has a kindness to him. And that is what I came to understand. They took that into account when they chose him. When I figured that out, I was extremely impressed. This isn’t something that just anyone can do. It’s not enough to just provide a cool character voice. It’s a distinct charm that he has.

⚔️ The character is really packed with substance, but there’s still space left, and you can sense that mysteriousness. Because there is so much going on inside of him there are things for you to grasp at while simultaneously stirring your imagination. I really sense that.

🦇 When you try to think of other seiyuu like that, no one really comes to mind. It has to be 🐉-kun.

🐉 Is it okay if I start to cry?

⚔️ And when he sings…

⚡️ That humming…

⚔️ That was amazing.

🐉 That was so hard to do. They told me, “please hum like you mean it,” and I thought, “what is humming that you mean?” Humming that follows a melody, that becomes a sound. I had never done that before. It was really hard. We tried several different patterns.

⚔️ It was scary. Both an ending and a beginning.

🦇 But as the story continues I find him cute, too. And 🐉-kun is cute, too.

(Everyone is laughing, I think ⚔️ is going to die here)

🦇 No I’m serious, really, really. 

🐉 While portraying Malleus the difficult thing is always not showing too much emotion,.The direction I am always receiving is “you can’t become human.” They’ll say, “that take sounded just like a regular guy.” The balance of how his normal is not normal for a human is always hard to do. And post-overblot Malleus—they’ll tell me, “Sorry, but Malleus sounds kind of scary.” I often get told “can you control the darkness a bit.” But through all that how do I still portray Malleus-ness…

🦇 The more you read for a character the more you come to understand them, but Malleus was last.

🐉 There was a lot of uncertainty in the beginning. I have concluded that he is cute. He’s a child. He’s been alive longer than the others, but his emotional state hasn’t caught up to that. He has so much power, but he lacks the normal concept of common sense. Things that are common sense to him are not so to others. I am always trying to portray that unusual dichotomy.

⚔️ talks about being able to see Malleus grow up in Book 7 through the different milestones were see in the flashbacks. There are places where he has always been the same but parts about him that have evolved. ⚔️ tells 🐉 that it seems like that must have been hard.

🐉 It was so hard.  I think there’s probably a way of interacting with Malleus that's in line with how he understands things, even though I don't fully understand it. When encountering him for the first time, people around him might think, 'Wow, he doesn’t react at all!' But Malleus does react in his own way. I would receive many detailed directions like 'Please be surprised!' or 'Please react!' I didn’t create this performance all by myself, it has come together from the efforts of the staff, and I’m really grateful for that. I tend to lose track of what was the right way to approach things as Malleus. You can get confused between doing events and the main story, so getting back into the right mindset every time is pretty tough.

About Silver

🐉 I thought he was really cool when I saw him the first time.

⚡️ I think it’s cute how he falls asleep—he’ll wake up, apologize, and then immediately sleep again.

🦇 He’s really pretty.

🐉 I thought he had a beautiful face the first time I saw him.

⚔️ My portrayal of him hasn’t really changed since the beginning. We’ve gotten more information and there is more of a backbone now, and of course things change when new things are revealed. Even from the beginning he wasn’t just a cool character, he had a naturalness to him, and not just that he spaces out, but he tries to solve his problems with physical strength. Like in Book 7 with “if I hit it that will fix it.” I think his humanity is being expressed more these days.

🦇 It took a while, yeah?

⚔️ It took so long.

🦇 It took us a while to get to Malleus, too, but he had the impact of his first appearance. Silver didn’t have anything.

Now they’re talking about Lilia’s farewell party and Malleus and Silver crying together and not knowing how to express their emotions. Trying to be mature. 

⚔️ He’s being a big brother to Silver!!

🦇 I figured something was coming soon, after that. And it went in an intense direction.

⚔️ There is so much about them that is a family. Father is Lilia, and Malleus-sama has a big-brother nature to him.

🐉 You really feel their familial relationship.

⚔️ He felt some responsibility. If the little brother starts to cry, the older brother—

🐉 He can’t cry.

⚔️ He’ll get desperate to try and be strong and try to solve the problem.

🐉 Like he has to step up.

🦇 So it was Silver’s fault.

⚡️⚔️🐉wwwwww

⚔️Not all of it. Silver would never say this, but the reason things became so difficult for the two of them is…their love for their father.

🦇 Sebek and Silver are a good combination, too.

⚔️ Such a good combination~~~

🦇 They’re complete opposites but they’re also surprisingly similar.

⚡️They’re both so honest.

🐉 They’re honest and serious and good kids, both of them.

⚡️ They never had the opportunity to show emotion like that until 7. They are both very quick to cry.

🐉 They’re so much alike.

⚡️I guess this is what happens when you’re raised together with someone. I think Silver is the older brother, looking from Sebek’s perspective. There is a moment where Sebek is scolded for the first time. In the moment, when I was reading, ⚔️’s portrayal really is angry. I even said it, “He finally scolded him for the first time.”

About Sebek

⚡️I think he empowers himself by speaking so loudly. Once he decides on doing something, he goes straight for it, true to his unique magic. With how strongly he sticks to his principles it’s like he could overcome any obstacle, like in that scene he had with Silver, but it was very cute that he actually loses there.

⚔️THAT WAS SO CUTE. That was a great part. 

(⚔️ is literally yelling into his mic about how cute Sebek is)

⚡️The fact that he was able to get out the words he really wanted to say after he lost the fight shows that he does want to say what is on his mind but there is a wall that he has to break down, and then he can move forward. That is a moment where you can really understand Sebek-kun’s feelings. And once he lets his emotions out, they’re out w

🐉 He can’t put the lid back on. Everything spills out.

⚔️ (dying in the background)

⚡️talks about how much effort Sebek puts into everything and he reads so much and there is so much he wants people to know, which is why he is so loud.

🦇Sebek and Silver have both had a lot more lines recently. Doesn’t your voice get worn out during recordings?

⚡️It doesn’t! I do stretches and things before recordings. I figured out that I need that kind of physical exercise to prepare.

About Lilia

⚡️ Mom.

🐉 A cute mom.

⚡️There was a lot of gaps* in 7.

*I can’t figure out a good way to say this in English. It is the difference between what you expect and what something really is.

🐉 Too many gaps, it was so surprising.

🦇 I had heard nothing about any of that.

⚡️ I had an image of him as someone who is gentle and cute and a senpai who enjoys pranks and looks out for others…

🦇 He used to be completely different.

⚡️And there was egg-sama.

🐉 Egg-sama w

⚡️⚔️It’s not inaccurate.

🦇 I have done a lot of crying scenes before. When you first look at the script it hits you, and when you think about how you have to portray what you just read so that the people listening to your performance feel the same emotion—there is a pressure to that. I can’t be the only one crying. I have to make others cry.

⚔️ Something that 🦇-san said (during the special talk show that 🦇 and 🐉 did together last year talking about Book 7 just the two of them) that I really liked and wanted to ask about: You and Baul’s VA Koyasu-san (🐊) have been performing together a lot over the years. And you came back together for the first time in a while for this. You said that you didn’t want to give him the impression of “So this is what 🦇 is like these days.�� So there was that pressure, you didn’t want to give an embarrassing performance in front of him, and I realized that you have a passionate spirit that you don’t really show, in my opinion—but it’s there! I got really excited about that.

🐉 I was surprised, too, that even 🦇-san has those same thoughts.

⚡️Same!

🦇 Of course I do. The pressure was intense. I am glad that we were able to record together, but…

And with the Chapter 13 release announcement they say they have permission to share this information:

🦇 and 🐉 were able to record together!

🐉 It was amazing. It was truly an amazing time for me.

🦇 It was our first time performing together.

Upcoming calendar review~ and done!

[silverynight]

Oblivious heart

Izuku is too focused on checking his email to see the crystal door on time; he realizes he's going to collide a little bit too late. It's not that bad, it won't kill him or injure him, but it'll probably hurt a little bit.

However, his face doesn't bump into it; Katsuki takes him by the waist and moves him out of the way like he weighs nothing while pushing the door open effortlessly.

"Thank you, Kacchan!" Izuku beams immediately; he forgets how strong Katsuki has gotten in the past few years.

"Be more careful, nerd," the pro hero grumbles, narrowing his eyes at him with more concern than irritation. "Besides, it's the weekend. I fucking know you're checking your email, you should be not thinking about work."

The young teacher blushes, basically confirming what Katsuki just said.

"Some of my students already sent their homework."

"You can check it on Monday."

Izuku puts his phone back in his pocket, mostly to appease the pro hero. Katsuki smirks triumphantly before putting an arm around his shoulders. The teacher is aware that people are watching them.

They decide to have breakfast in a cafeteria and talk about their respective jobs a bit. Sometimes, a couple of people approach them to ask them both for an autograph. It's been a while since the war, and Izuku knows young people know more Katsuki than they know him, so sometimes he thinks they ask him for his autograph not to make him feel bad. Or maybe because if they don't ask for his, pro hero Dynamight gets all grumpy and refuses to talk to them.

But sometimes, Katsuki also gets irritated when people approach him and talk too much to him, especially if they're the same age as he is or a bit older.

It confuses Izuku sometimes.

"You're amazing!" The young man says after a while; listing all the things he likes about Izuku the most, his courage, his determination and his selflessness until he makes the teacher blush to the tip of his ears. "Can I get you something? A coffee? Something to eat? Maybe we can go somewhere else–"

Katsuki, who just got back with their food, places Izuku's latte and the croissant in front of him, as well as his own breakfast on the table. He sits quite aggressively next to the teacher and puts an arm around his shoulders.

"Who the fuck are you?" He hisses, clearly irritated at the fan still standing next to their table.

"Kacchan, be nice!"

"Pro hero Dynamight!" The young man pales, looking from one to another, deflating immediately. "I didn't know you were hero Deku's–"

"I am. Fuck off."

Izuku scolds him then and tries to apologize, but the man is gone in the blink of an eye.

Katsuki pulls him even closer and looks around at the people watching, like he's daring them to approach their table. None of them do, obviously.

"This is why you're constantly dropping ranks. Kacchan, you have to work on your charisma a bit if you want to be number one!"

"I don't care."

That also confuses Izuku; Katsuki used to be so competitive when they were in high-school.

"Stop pouting because of me. I'll be fine, nerd."

Katsuki urges him to drink his latte before it gets cold, and that's the end of it.

***

Things change considerably after Katsuki gives him the hero suit. Izuku can't quite believe that he planned it from the moment they graduated from school. His friends helped too, and he's very thankful for it, but he knows Katsuki was the one in charge of the project.

Now that Izuku has been working as a pro hero for a year now, Katsuki seems more eager to become the number one.

It's fun to have someone always at his side, challenging and competing with him.

They're a hero duo now, just like they always wanted to be.

Even though they're together most of the time, Izuku is surprised Katsuki doesn't seem to get tired of him. Whenever they have free time, the other pro hero makes sure to hang out with him.

It's good that they both have their respective apartments though, no matter how much he misses Katsuki when he's not there because Izuku doesn't want to risk it.

Part of him thinks Katsuki will eventually get tired of him.

However, Katsuki doesn't think the same, for the past weeks, he's been trying to convince Izuku that it'd be more convenient for them both if they move in together.

They have just finished their patrol when Katsuki brings the topic up again. He does it after Izuku softly declines his invitation to dinner because he's honestly too exhausted to move. He just wants to lie down on his bed or maybe even the couch for a while.

"You should move in with me."

It's always tempting; Izuku likes his best friend, more than he should actually, but that's one of the reasons he refuses. Besides, Katsuki's apartment is amazing; the pro hero worked hard for it, especially because it has a great view of All Might's statue.

Fortunately, a reporter interrupts their conversation to make them a few questions. Katsuki grimaces at the sight of her, while Izuku makes an effort to focus on what she's saying, even though he's clearly exhausted.

When Izuku thinks she's done, a couple of other reporters approach them. He doesn't think he has the energy to answer their questions. But he can try.

At some point, Katsuki gets so irritated that he stops answering the questions directed at him and places himself in between Izuku and the reporters.

"Enough. Can't you see he's exhausted? Have some fucking consideration!"

Before Izuku can apologize on his behalf, Katsuki takes him in his arms and carries him away. The pro hero with green hair is so tired indeed he doesn't even tell him to put him back on his feet.

He had no idea his eyes were closed until he opens them again and finds himself in the passenger seat in Katsuki's expensive car.

"Are you hungry? I can make you katsudon if you want."

Izuku hesitates, he loves Katsuki's cooking, but at the same time, the thought of having to go back to his own apartment after dinner is so tiring already.

"You can stay with me tonight."

Part of him thinks he shouldn't; it'll probably make it more difficult to decline Katsuki's offer to move in together, but at the same time he really wants to have a sleepover with his best friend.

"Sure, Kacchan."

Katsuki looks way too happy about it. It's kinda endearing.

***

Only a month later, Katsuki manages to persuade Izuku into moving in with him. His apartment is huge so it's more than enough for two people.

They argue and fight as usual, but they manage to fix it every single time, and despite Izuku's fear, they don't seem to get tired of one another.

But of course, that's when the rumors get even stronger; their fans already talked about them being more than friends (which is not true) but now they seem convinced Katsuki and Izuku are in a relationship.

They claim that, since they both make enough money, there's no need for any of them to be roommates and just moved together because they're taking the next step into their relationship.

It doesn't help that every time Katsuki gets asked about that, he refuses to say a word or changes the topic like he's hiding something.

Izuku does deny it, but for some reason his answers are not that convincing for anyone.

"Just one last question, please!" The female reporter begs, looking very tempted to grab Izuku's arm to prevent him from leaving. "Are you dating pro hero Dynamight?"

Maybe it's the fact that Izuku always blushes when he gets asked that particular question or the fact that Katsuki approaches him whenever he hears his hero name and sometimes places his arm around his shoulders or waist.

"N-No! We're just friends!" Izuku stammers, hearing Katsuki's chuckle next to him as he pulls him even closer.

"Sure," the reporter mumbles, looking at them both with disbelief. "Thank you for your time, Deku-san!"

She's finally gone, but Izuku is sure there'll be lots of posts with the interview and screenshots of Katsuki with his arm around his waist to "prove" the exact opposite of what Izuku just told the reporter.

Even their friends have grown really curious about their relationship.

It doesn't help that whenever they finally have the time to hang out with some of them, Katsuki is always touching Izuku somehow. Izuku has convinced himself it's because his friend is more physically affectionate now, at least around him.

But he can tell Uraraka is getting tired of the both of them.

"I know you," she says the moment Kirishima and Kaminari manage to drag Katsuki away from them. "You cannot be purposely cruel, so the only reason you haven't finally kissed that poor man and ended his misery must be because you don't know he's in love with you. But honestly, that says a lot about you, Midoriya. I thought you were smart."

"Uraraka!" Izuku immediately blushes to the tip of his ears; he's not sure what got him so flustered, his friend saying that Katsuki loves him or the image of them kissing on the lips.

It's probably both.

"Don't 'Uraraka' me!" She rolls her eyes, clearly getting irritated. "I haven't seen anyone so devoted as him in my entire life! I thought you were going to realize it after finding out about the hero suit!"

"I know that he was in charge of it, but you also–"

"He dedicated eight years of his life to make it happen," she cuts him off. "Maybe he has never told you this, but he worked his ass off and made sure everything was perfect for you to have your dream back."

Having her saying it like that gets Izuku emotional again, and he immediately starts tearing up. Uraraka sighs but pulls him into a hug.

"I'm sorry he had to–"

"My point is not trying to make you feel guilty," Uraraka interrupts him again. "I just want you to realize how much he loves you because even though you two are clearly more happy now, I can tell you both want more."

"But what if... it's just too good to be true," Izuku finally blurts out. "I don't want to ruin our friendship."

"You won't, trust me."

"Izuku, are you crying?"

Katsuki's voice startles him, especially because he's suddenly next to him. Uraraka lets Izuku go as the other pro hero kneels in front of him and takes his hands in his.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Izuku can see the concern in those red eyes and the devotion, the clear adoration that he can't hide anymore.

"I'm fine, Kacchan," he mumbles, tearing up again, prompting the blond pro hero to start wiping the tears off with his thumbs.

"Did he drink too much?" He asks Uraraka then.

"He's just emotional."

"I'm alright, Kacchan!" He assures him, grabbing him by the sleeve to get his attention back. "Let's go home."

Katsuki nods immediately; there's no hesitation in his eyes, and after thinking about the last few years, it occurs to Izuku that he could ask anything and the other pro hero would give it to him. But that particular thought makes him blush to the tip of his ears and tries to shake it off immediately.

Even though Izuku assures him he's alright, Katsuki takes him in his arms and carries him out.

"You'll thank me later, Bakugo!" Uraraka says out loud, prompting Katsuki to narrow his eyes in confusion and Izuku to blush even more.

"What the fuck is she talking about?"

"I-I don't know!"

***

It's only after they're back in the apartment and Izuku has a cup of tea in his hands (that Katsuki made for him) that he decides to finally have a serious conversation with him.

Or at least say how he feels and hope for the best.

"Kacchan."

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Katsuki drops his own cup of coffee, and although he manages to catch it before it hits the ground, the liquid inside falls all over his shirt. It's a good thing it wasn't that hot anymore.

Although he doesn't seem to give a fuck about any of those things.

"Kacchan, are you–"

"What did you just say?" Katsuki rushes to his side, cradling Izuku's face in his hands softly.

To prevent another accident, Izuku leaves his tea on the small table in front of the couch.

"Uhh..."

"Can you say it again, please?"

He can tell Katsuki is desperate to hear it again and Izuku is not going to deny him something like that at this point.

"I love you, Kacchan."

Cheeks turning slightly pink, the blond pro hero smiles almost in disbelief.

"Am I dreaming again?"

Izuku would like to know how many times Katsuki has dreamed about something like this, but maybe that's a conversation for another day.

Instead of answering, Izuku gives him a quick kiss on the lips.

Katsuki's hands move; he uses one of them to grab his waist and the other slides to the back of Izuku's neck. He uses both of them to pull him closer before kissing him.

But Katsuki's kiss is not quick or light; he kisses Izuku like he's been waiting for that moment for years, and Izuku kisses back with as much enthusiasm.

They both end up lying on the couch, wrapped around each other, pulling apart to breathe for a second before pressing their lips together again.

"I love you so much, you oblivious nerd," Katsuki whispers, voice turning deep as he starts kissing Izuku's neck and chin.

"I know. I know now, Kacchan."

"It took you a fucking long time, Izuku."

Izuku chuckles before kissing his boyfriend on the lips, making a mental note to tell Katsuki it was actually Uraraka the one who made him realize it.

They'll have to thank her later.

***

Patreon

[tinylilacbun]

hii if your requests are open could you please do one with daddy!rafe calming down little!reader after she has a nasty fight with her father? like her father always acts disappointed in her and she thinks rafe might feel the same thank you so much 💕💕

What on earth did you do to deserve being treated like this? You've always been good at school, never acted out, not once have you touched any drugs or got into fights.

So why, why is your father still treating you like a disappointment? You can never seem to do something right in his eyes and it sits heavy on your heart, always just trying to get his approval even though he treats you the way he does.

Today's meet up and having some dinner at a restaurant had ended like every other, in a fight. He tried yet again to get you to take over the family business, which was never your dream to begin with.

When you said that out loud he started spewing insults at how you should start to get your life under control instead of living out of your boyfriends wallet.

Before he could continue his rant you simply stood up and stormed out of the restaurant, trying to push back the tears to not give him the satisfaction of seeing you so distraught.

You promised to call Rafe after your dinner, so he could come and pick you up, but you couldn't think of that right now and continue walking all the way back to his house, your arms wrapped around yourself as you replay the conversation with your father in your head over and over.

Maybe he's right. No, he's in the wrong. Why should you stress over something as taking over a business you never wanted in the first place? Just because your father built it doesn't mean you're forced to manage it one day.

But you do live on Rafe's costs. He pays everything for you, food, clothes, any toys your little self desires, your spa appointments, and he does it with a smile on his face because you're his girl that deserves anything you could want.

What if Rafe starts thinking like your father? That you're just a burden for him and should find a job. You could never live with it if he thinks too that you're a disappointment.

Soon you're unlocking the front door to the condo, closing it behind you with a long exhale, taking off your shoes and shrugging off your jacket.

"Baby? That you? I thought I was supposed to pick you up." Rafe questions, coming down the staircase, his eyes fixated on his phone as he makes his way over to you.

When you didn't answer he pockets the device, lifting his head and furrows his brows at the look on your face. "Hey, you okay?"

At that question you instantly start to tear up, your vision blurring and before you can start talking you feel him pulling you into his arms.

You grab the back of his shirt in your fists tightly, sobbing into his chest as all the anger and sadness pours out.

Rafe doesn't say anything, simply holding you and letting you get everything out, swaying you both a little until you calm down again.

"Your dad?" He asks and you nod against him, your grip getting firmer on him. "Shh, it's okay, I got you."

In one swift movement he lifts you up, carrying you upstairs to your shared bedroom, carefully sitting down with you comfortably on his lap.

He should have gone with you. He knows how your dad is, hell he knows exactly how you feel given how his relationship with his father was. It always infuriates him how someone can treat a person as wonderful as you this bad.

"You wanna tell daddy what happened?" He asks softly, reaching for your stuffed bunny that's neatly placed on your pillow to place it in your arms.

You shake your head, not wanting to talk at all at the moment, even less about your father. You're in the arms of your favorite person and that's all you need in this moment.

"That's fine." He assures you, lifting his hand to wipe the remaining tears from your cheek with his thumb, pressing a long kiss to your forehead. "Just know that I'm really proud of you, yea? I always am, and always will be."

Your body heats up at his praise, feeling safe and appreciated, something you wish you would feel from your father.

Screw him. As long as you have Rafe, who never fails to reassure you that he loves you and will take care of everything for you, you'll be okay.

"I luv you, daddy..." You mumble, nuzzling your face into his neck to inhale his scent, sighing out in relief.

"I love you too, bunny. So much." He whispers, resting his cheek on top of your hair as he adjusts his hold on you.

[wisteria-lodge]

Now the last thing I want is to start beef on the internet about Snape, although I suppose that would be very 2005 of me. I like Snape. I like Snape, a lot. I just finished a 160K fanfiction where he's the only viewpoint character, I would hope I'd like him. But I'm kind of interested to see what you'd have to say to my counterpoint to your rebuttal.

You give me a couple examples of funny Snape moments from the first few books. He's absolutely funny the whole way through, I talked about how that was the *fun* of 1-3 Snape. I will say that the later books will have Snape being dry and funny-on-purpose, in a way that 1-3 really don't. Like book 3 will have a moment like:

“Fascinating,” said Snape, without looking at it.

where the humor is in the framing. but later books will constantly have him him make (dry, dark, sarcastic) on-purpose jokes.

"He'd have me!" said Bellatrix passionately. "I, who spent many years in Azkaban for him!" "Yes, indeed, most admirable," said Snape in a bored voice. "Of course, you weren't a lot of use to him in prison, but the gesture was undoubtedly fine —"

“I have already told you,” said Snape smoothly, “that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter —and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did — I cannot help you.

"Crabbe, loosen your hold a little, if Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork, and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if ever you apply for a job.”

"Yes, it is easy to see that nearly six years of magical education have not been wasted on you, Potter. Ghosts are transparent."

“You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?” Professor Umbridge asked Snape. “Yes,” said Snape quietly. “But you were unsuccessful?” Snape’s lip curled. “Obviously.”

(... and loads more. Actually it would be really fun to do a deep-dive into how Snape uses humor. The "no part of your body is allowed in Hogsmeade" - that is from book 1-3, and I think it is an on-purpose joke. But is it the only one?)

You also bring up that he brews Wolfsbane, and that's fair. "Not very many wizards are up to brewing it." But I'd say there's still a difference between 'potion teacher able to brew a difficult potion' and 'prodigy savant correcting the textbook so much that the margins look black, and inventing his own spells.' You could have set that up if you wanted, probably in the context of Harry thinking it's unfair that in Snape's class there's nothing but miles of note-taking while he's got a textbook in every other class, which would then be a set-up for when *Slughorn* starts using a textbook. I mean Book 6 is *named* after Snape's potion textbook, I don't think some set-up would be out of the question.

(My main analytical angle to approaching the books is always trying to figure out - what do I think JKR intended, vs what made it onto the page, vs what the fan interpretations are, and why they exist.)

The point that he gets Book 3 levels of emotional in Book 6, after the Worst Memory and killing Dumbledore - that is fair. He totally does, positioning Snape as guy who feels very intensely, which is cool. I think you make a very important point that Snape losing control in Book 6 is framed as *scary.* It certainly is. Which make it very different from Book 3, where it is absolutely framed as funny. A threatening character, defanged. Similar behavior, treated differently by the overall text, which is kinda my thesis here.

I do disagree that the later books push silly school stuff to the side. I think there's actually *more,* because the books are longer, and JKR really seems to like writing... quidditch team shenanigans, Hermione's ill-fated house elf-campaign, the Cormac subplot, the Lavender subplot, Harry's terrible date, the kids becoming prefects and reacting in different ways, like that's good stuff. A lot of that stuff even involves Snape, because he is a funny character - like the example I used up top of him finding ways to sabotage the Gryffindor Quidditch team like spam-booking the pitch. We are even still getting on-the-page scenes that take place during his class. It's just the narrative framing that changes, lots of little tweaks to make him less unreasonable, and less of a bully.

And the main difference between a plot twist and a ret-con is that plot twists are set up. I don't have a problem with either, but that's how it is. Like JKR is good at writing mysteries. If she wanted to, she could have dropped in a detail about James Potter early on that in retrospect seems a little iffy, but doesn't bother you at the time. She does that masterfully with Moody/Barty. If she wanted to set up the twist that Snape was actually extremely brilliant, heck I wrote the thing about making him dislike the textbook, that would have worked just fine.

Also the 'Snape stays out of a sense of duty thing' - I said that books 1-3 seem to give him a different motive for staying (wants the DADA job, which wasn't written as cursed at that point) and that motive changes in Book 4. In Book 1, Snape protecting Harry is presented as repaying a debt he feels he owes to James... which is strange in itself, when the later books are taken into context. But that's why my point is that Severus and James were both developed over the course of the books, and that development necessitated some ret-cons and clever re-framing.

And my last thing, about a sad backstory explaining vs excusing bad behavior, and what the difference is there exactly? You might have read that a million times, but I haven't. I read though your backlog of original posts trying to find the one you were referring to, and couldn't. So maybe link it, if it's around?

Since you’ve talked about Molly and Draco, can you talk about Snape as well? When you said that there was a disconnect with Snape’s character I honestly wasn’t sure if you meant the audience was supposed to like him more or less than they actually do.

This is a complicated one, because Book 1-3 Snape and Book 5-7 Snape are written so differently that I actually want to talk about them as two separate characters. 

Book 1-3 Snape… kind of sucks. Maybe he sucks in a way you find funny (which I completely get. A lot of comedy - especially British comedy - revolves around finding the humor in really *mean* people. Snape is *written* to be funny in a dry, acerbic, Roald Dahl kind of way.) But maybe Snape sucks in a way that’s not fun for you, he’s just upsetting and cruel. Either way, he’s petty, unfair, a bully, completely unreasonable, and doesn’t really appear to have any redeeming qualities. Snape protects Harry in Book 1 only because James Potter saved his life and, according to Dumbledore:  

“Professor Snape couldn’t bear being in your father’s debt. . . . I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father’s memory in peace. . . .” 

Later on, Snape’s motivation will become “Protect Harry because you couldn’t protect Lily.” But there’s no hint of that here.

I actually think it’s very likely that ‘Snape was in love with Lily’ is a plotline added during Book 4, because 1-3 Snape’s motivation is so completely focused on JAMES. He hates Harry because he looks like James, he hates James because (according to Lupin) he’s “jealous, I think, of James’s talent on the Quidditch field.” Within the context of the series it’s easy to say that Lupin is lying, and with good reason… but in the context of the first three books, I think that’s just meant to be true? Snape, as we know, is a stealth quidditch hooligan the way McGonagall is. Also… James’ characterization shifts around. He’s not a bully in the first three books, he’s Head Boy… and that Head Boy thing doesn’t quite gel with what we hear from Sirius later: 

“No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James. Lupin was the good boy, he got the badge.”

(I know JKR plans things out in advance, but she absolutely does change things on the fly. Arthur Weasley not getting killed by Nagini is an easy example that we definitely know about. And come on - the entire last book is a Deathly Hallows fetch-quest. Was there really no way to slip in a reference to Beedle the Bard - or a super-powerful semi-mythical wand - anywhere in the first six books?) 

So, in books 1-3, there's no hint that Snape is a potion prodigy, particularly powerful, or even particularly clever. He wrote a logic puzzle and “knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts.” But that’s it. “Potion Master” isn’t an advanced rank, it’s just the posh British boarding school way of saying “teacher.” (Like headmaster = head teacher.) Early Snape is also a lot more *emotional* than he is later on, when his ability to “Master yourself!... control your anger, discipline your mind!” becomes extremely plot relevant. Like, can you picture 5-7 Snape (or Alan Rickman, who plays a distinctly later-books Snape) doing any of this? 

Snape was beside himself. “OUT WITH IT, POTTER!” he bellowed. “WHAT DID YOU DO?”  “Professor Snape!” shrieked Madam Pomfrey. “Control yourself!”  “See here, Snape, be reasonable,” said Fudge. “This door’s been locked, we just saw —”  “THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!” Snape howled, pointing at Harry and Hermione. His face was twisted; spit was flying from his mouth.  “Calm down, man!” Fudge barked. “You’re talking nonsense!”  “YOU DON’T KNOW POTTER!” shrieked Snape. “HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT —”

In Movie 3, Snape gets a cool protective moment where he shoves the kids behind him during the werewolf attack. In Book 3, Snape is unconscious during the entire werewolf attack because Harry, Ron and Hermione simultaneously decide he’s too dangerous, and too much of a liability to keep around. Here are are some bangers from Book 3 Snape: 

- “Don’t ask me to fathom the way a werewolf’s mind works.”   - “KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!” Snape shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged. “DON’T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!” - “Up to the castle?... I don’t think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They’ll be very pleased to see you, Black . . . pleased enough to give you a little Kiss, I daresay. . . .”  - “I’ll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the dementors will have a Kiss for him too —”

If you sort of squint you can maybe say - okay, maybe this is a PTSD response. Like I’m writing a Snape POV fic right now, you can make it work. But it’s not work the books do for you, and it’s not the characterization choice they make in the films. 

BUT. Snape goes through a little bit of a revamp/retcon in Book 4. It’s totally deliberate - he’s Book 1-3 Snape at the beginning, then he basically vanishes from the narrative… the reader kind of forgets about him…  until it comes up during Karkaroff’s trial that Dumbledore ABSOLUTELY trusts him, even though he was a Death Eater. So now when Snape turns up at the climax - he’s a figure of intrigue, and it makes sense that he’s one of the two people Dumbledore brings with him to deal with Barty. Honestly, it’s a pretty cool magic trick. We buy it when - instead of hissing and spitting and hopping around like he does when he confronts Fudge at the end of Book 3 - Book 4 Snape deals with Fudge like this: 

Snape strode forward… pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He stuck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled.  “There,” said Snape harshly. “There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. (...) This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff’s too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord’s vengeance.”

Calm, collected, focused. This is a character who you’re supposed to take seriously, a character who you are supposed to respect. 

I think it’s very interesting that after Book 4, we don’t see Snape *bully* the students during class again. He’s strict, and he’s a hard grader, and Harry still thinks he’s unfair, but like… the narrative framing is on his side now. 

“Tell me, Potter,” said Snape softly, “can you read?”  Draco Malfoy laughed.  “Yes, I can,” said Harry, his fingers clenched tightly around his wand.  “Read the third line of the instructions for me, Potter.”  Harry squinted at the blackboard(… ) His heart sank. He had not added syrup of hellebore, but had proceeded straight to the fourth line of the instructions after allowing his potion to simmer for seven minutes.  “Did you do everything on the third line, Potter?” “No,” said Harry very quietly.  “I beg your pardon?” “No,” said Harry, more loudly. “I forgot the hellebore...”  “I know you did, Potter, which means that this mess is utterly worthless. Evanesco.” The contents of Harry’s potion vanished; he was left standing foolishly beside an empty cauldron. “Those of you who have managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for testing.” (...)  “That was really unfair,” said Hermione consolingly, sitting down next to Harry  (...) “Yeah, well,” said Harry, glowering at his plate, “since when has Snape ever been fair to me?”

Like he isn’t nice, but he also isn’t asking Harry questions he can’t possibly know the answers to, threatening to kill someone’s pet, or calling Hermione ugly. He didn’t even take away house points. And - during the next lesson, we are told that the approach Snape took with Harry actually worked?

Determined not to give Snape an excuse to fail him this lesson, Harry read and reread every line of the instructions on the blackboard at least three times before acting on them. His Strengthening Solution was not precisely the clear turquoise shade of Hermione’s but it was at least blue rather than pink, like Neville’s, and he delivered a flask of it to Snape’s desk at the end of the lesson with a feeling of mingled defiance and relief. 

I want to do one more close read, on a excerpt from Book 5: 

Harry realized how much Professor McGonagall cared about beating Slytherin when she abstained from giving them homework in the week leading up to the match. (...)  Nobody could quite believe their ears until she looked directly at Harry and Ron and said grimly, “I’ve become accustomed to seeing the Quidditch Cup in my study, boys, and I really don’t want to have to hand it over to Professor Snape, so use the extra time to practice, won’t you?” Snape was no less obviously partisan: He had booked the Quidditch pitch for Slytherin practice so often that the Gryffindors had difficulty getting on it to play. He was also turning a deaf ear to the many reports of Slytherin attempts to hex Gryffindor players in the corridors. When Alicia Spinnet turned up in the hospital wing with her eyebrows growing so thick and fast that they obscured her vision and obstructed her mouth, Snape insisted that she must have attempted a Hair-Thickening Charm on herself and refused to listen to the fourteen eyewitnesses who insisted that they had seen the Slytherin Keeper, Miles Bletchley, hit her from behind with a jinx.

This has a very similar structure to the sequence when Snape refuses to punish Draco for enlarging Hermione’s teeth. Slytherins and Gryffindors having an altercation, Gryffindor girl gets caught in the crossfire. BUT a few key things have been changed. One - the section is told in second-hand narration, which makes it less emotional than the teeth-scene. Two - the section begins with comparing Snape to McGonagall: she’s being biased/helping out her students too, so it’s only fair if he does it as well. Three - his insult isn’t “Your face has always looked like that,” it’s “You must have messed up a spell,” which is a lot less personal, and a lot less mean. (If anything, Snape is subtly insulting her for casting a cosmetic charm/being too girly… and being a girly-girl is an inherently suspect characteristic in JKR’s world.) Everything about this passage is set up to create a “Snape the Bully” moment… that kind of excuses Snape. 

So, what do we have? There are the people that think Book 1-3 Snape just went too far, and you can soften the narrative framing around him, and you can add in as many tragic backstories as you want, and it doesn’t really matter. THAT is definitely not what JKR wants you to think. She wants to bring you along for the ride, and (as you can tell from the framing) she's started to like Snape a lot.

HOWEVER. I do not think that the fan who likes 5-7 Alan Rickman Snape is… quite seeing the same thing she is. I get the sense that in the text, Snape’s tragic backstory is not meant to *explain* his bad behavior so much as it is meant to *excuse* it. He stays mean and bad-tempered… but he’s allowed to be, both because he is always acting in service to a Good Cause, and because he was abused at home, bullied at school, etc. A big part of why I think JKR likes writing Snape so much (and why she’s so protective of him) is because she finds something cathartic in letting a character be nasty… but for it to be allowed because they’ve suffered, and also because they're in the right. Sadly I think this describes a lot of her current online interactions. 

JKR also loves the idea of *pining.* (It is crazy how long the main characters’ pining/longing/will-they-won’t-they thing in the Cormoran Strike books has lasted.) It’s a very safe kind of romance, and (again, sadly) you can tell from her writing that romance is not generally something that feels safe to her. Snape is sometimes characterized by those who dislike the character as an incel-type who wants to possess Lily, and I just don’t think that’s in the text. If anything it’s the other way around. Snape has some unconsummated, medieval courtly love thing going on, where he has decided to live his life in Lily’s service. 

I wrote about why I think Draco Malfoy (unintentionally) appeals to fans. With Snape…  I actually think a lot of his current (unintentional) appeal comes from the way a softer Snape reframes the narrative into something more complex, and especially the way it reframes Dumbledore. Manipulative/Morally Grey Dumbledore is a *very* popular fan interpretation, and the way you get that is with a sympathetic Severus Snape. 

“You disgust me,” said Dumbledore, and Harry had never heard so much contempt in his voice. Snape seemed to shrink a little. (...)  “Hide them all, then,” he croaked. “Keep her — them — safe. Please.”  “And what will you give me in return, Severus?”  “In — in return?” Snape gaped at Dumbledore, and Harry expected him to protest, but after a long moment he said, “Anything.”

The implications here are really far reaching. Because to me, the main question when it comes to Snape is - why does he STAY at Hogwarts? He clearly hates it, why doesn’t he just leave? If you’re talking about 1-3 Snape, it's because he’s eternally holding out for the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, and he’s just kind of a twisted miserable guy who would probably be equally miserable everywhere. 

But books 5-7 add the context that he’s brilliant, he’s brave, he’s principled, he’s got a sense of humor. He seems close with the Malfoys. He has *options.* So now the (unintended?) implication is… he doesn’t leave because Dumbledore won’t let him. The fact that he keeps applying for the DADA job becomes dark and borderline suicidal when we learn it’s cursed, and that Snape knows it’s cursed. If he takes it, he’ll leave (or die) at the end of the year. That means, every year, he’s tacitly asking Dumbledore “Can I leave?” And Dumbledore is answering “No.” 

That’s such an interesting, juicy character dynamic. Snape is being kept miserable on purpose because… he’s easier to control that way? And if that’s true… then oh boy is it sinister that Dumbledore left Harry with the Dursleys. He knew he was raising Harry “like a pig for slaughter” (as Snape puts it.) And if Harry doesn’t have a support system, if he’s miserable, if Dumbledore can swoop in as his savior… then doesn’t that make him so much easier to control? 

[wlwsoccerfics]

What about my future?(MagdaErikssonXPernilleHarderXTeenReader)

Summary: a few months after your debut for FC Bayern Munich you do your ACL.

You just got home from your ACL surgrey. Your moms have picked you up from the hosptial. You had your debut for the A Team of FC Bayern Munich 8 months ago. Back then you were still 15 years old. Now you were 16 and dealing with the one thing no football player ever wants to deal with. The three bad Letters ACL.

When you went down on the pitch you felt right away what had happened. You just knew.

Your Mom helped you sit down on the Couch, placing your knee on a pillow.

"thank you, Mom!" You told Pernille.

"you don't have to thank me, Angel." She told you. Your momma walked over with your pain meds and a bottle of water.

"here älskling. your pain meds. take them and then maybe get some sleep?" Magda suggested.

"thanks momma!" You took the pain meds and sipped some water before placing the bottle aside on the coffee table.

"vad händer om min karriär är över?" ( what if my career is over?) You suddenly asked. Looking at your moms. It was a question that has been going through your mind since you teared your ACL five days ago. It was a constant thought actually. Your moms both looked at one another and then at you. Surprised by what has been on your mind. So they sat down.

"vi ved ikke, hvordan fremtiden bliver." ( we don't know what the future is gonna be like. ) Your Mom admitted.

" men vad vi vet är att du har vårt stöd!" ( but what we know is that you have our support! ) Your momma replied.

"i am scared." You admitted, tearing up. Your momma quickly wrapping an arm around your waist to give you a side hug while your Mom gently patted your good knee.

"we know. and we understand. but love you are so young still and you have all the time in the world for a comeback. However that might look like." Your Mom answered.

"we believe in you! And so should you." Your momma said. You nodded your head softly.

"thank you momma! Thank you Mom! For the kind words! They are deeply appreciated." You let them know. Sniffling softly but still managing to smile.

"Angel, you don't have to thank us! We will always be there to support you! It's our Job as your parents! You know?" Your mom answered. This made you chuckle softly.

"well you and momma do a really good job. I always feel very loved and supported by both of you!" You admitted.

"glad to hear you say that!" Your momma told you. Smiling at you. Your Mom was smiling as well.

"so now Focus on your recovery and think good thoughts! Plus you still have some homework to catch up on." Your Mom told you and you groaned dramatically.

"can i take a step away from school for a while?" You asked.

"absolutely not!" Both your moms said at the same time.

"damn, was worth a try!" You answered with a sheepishly smug smile.

[neodymiumcuilz]

HELP A FAMILY IN GAZA!!

"I am a mother of 4 children, Jamil, Ahmed, Karim and Rital, all of whom are school students. We have been living in tragic circumstances for more than 10 months. I lost my job as a teacher because of the war. I owned two houses, which were partially destroyed and then burned. I lost a lot of my furniture. Because of the destruction, we were displaced to the Mawasi area of ​​Khan Yunis. Now, I, my four children and my husband live in a tent and suffer from severe shelling, lack of food, water, health care and all the necessities of life. During this war, my children fell ill with hepatitis. We find treatment only with difficulty.

Insects have multiplied in the tents, epidemics and diseases have spread, and we suffer from difficulty in obtaining the necessities of life, extreme heat in the summer and cold in the winter. In addition, the tents have become worn out and water has entered the tents, damaging everything in them, and the water has reached our clothes, in addition to the shortage of cleaning materials and their high prices. This war has cost us a lot of what we own: housing, money, friends, and health. Now all I want from you is to help me and my children rebuild our future and start a new life."

Hello everyone, please listen to the message from @haninfamily9 who has reached out to me asking for help, in rebuilding their lives and securing a stable future for children in need, along with surviving the harsh conditions and providing basic needs, basic needs like food, water, good shelter and health care, clothes. They are human and deserving of being warm, comfortable, dry, and not displaced or in constant fear. Please have a heart and donate if you can. What you may spend on a coffee or something unnecessary can really get this campaign off the ground. Thank you.

51% OF GOAL REACHED!! PLEASE DO WHAT YOU CAN!!

Please also share, vist @haninfamily9 and interact with the posts, share the account, share the message, and campaign so it can reach more donors. Thank you!

[corviiids]

omg what are your thoughts on the phantom thieves becoming adults and getting jobs :0 i'd love to hear them!

thank you so much for asking. here is one billion words. i will remove my bumper sticker from your car

i am also working on a project which nudges on some of these ideas so shhh! shhhhhhhhhh

ryuji

successfully gets through rehab and recovers enough to launch into a pretty decent competitive track career, which he does for a while, but i think he retires early after deciding he doesn't want that to be his life forever. while spending time with ren doing volunteering, he realises he really enjoys working with kids, so he picks up some qualifications and becomes a gym teacher and track coach for kids. i think for ryuji when he gets older he gets more and more disgusted with the person kamoshida was when ryuji starts working with kids and struggles to understand how anyone could treat them so poorly when ryuji just loves them and wants to help them thrive. anyway he becomes a deeply beloved teacher and coach, basically what someone like kamoshida could have been if he'd been good instead of shit, and spends the rest of his life doing that. he and ren are roommates for a while but he eventually moves out to pursue his career.

ann

she finishes out the game pretty ambitious so i do think she launches into a successful international modelling career. after gaining some notoriety in that space and building up a ton of experience and good contacts i think she starts branching out into launching her own fashion and beauty lines. eventually i think she should become the editor of her own fashion publication too... the others see her on billboards and in magazines and on buses all the time. briefly dips her toe into an acting career after being invited to a film but her performance is so poor she wins an equivalent to the golden razzie which she shows up to accept in person laughing and gushing about what an honour it is so everyone loves her even more for it although she decides not to continue acting after that. important to me is that she gets new cool haircuts. imagining her with close-cropped hair. like not exactly a buzzcut but getting there. she's an icon. she splits her time between LA and tokyo and has apartments in both places but usually prefers to crash at ren or makoto's place in tokyo and be a loving nuisance to them for a while

yusuke

i feel very strongly that yusuke needs to experience the world and branch out because the game kind of goes "yusuke's personality is art" which frustrates me as 1) to be a good artist i think breadth of life experience is valuable and 2) i want yusuke to do fun things. so i think yusuke postcanon tries to immerse himself fully in art for a while but then has kind of an existential crisis about his work feeling superficial to him despite his successes and so he ends up going on extensive sabbatical backpacking around the world and meeting lots of people and experiencing new things and then returning to pour his newfound knowledge of life and wisdom into his art and reaching new depths and takes the art world by storm. and also he always has money for food forever. starts out with an art foundation but eventually gets his own studio apartment which lies abandoned while he's gallivanting. haru furnished it

makoto

to me makoto is one of the characters who finishes the game with the most growing left to do, which makes her really fun to explore postcanon, personally. anyway i think she does become a cop and does it for quite a few years but before long starts to get extremely disillusioned about the work she's doing until she eventually hits quite a severe depressive spiral about the direction her life has taken. then sae and her friends talk her out of her crisis by convincing her that it's never too late to change your life. so she quits her job and in her late 30s/early 40s she goes back to school and gets her law degree and eventually becomes a criminal defence attorney. she also figures out that she is gay. i think this takes her less time than the cop thing but still like probably longer than she'd care to admit. lives alone with a pet. i want to say she either has a dog or some kind of cool reptile like a bearded dragon.

futaba

i have a running joke with myself that akechi puts her onto r/overemployed and so futaba has like six or seven remote IT jobs at major companies around the world, none of which know about each other, all of which she does from the comfort of her house. anyway she gets loaded off a series of extremely good and mysterious investments that she refuses to explain so she's mostly just working for fun. gets back into hacktivism also mostly just for fun. sometimes she anonymously drops entire indie games for free online which go viral without fail. moves out on her own in adulthood but still spends most weekends and days at sojiro's and has a WFH office set-up in his house which he complains about and doesn't mind at all.

haru

so i think haru spends a long time working to restore okumura foods to the vision that her grandfather originally had for it and does succeed to a good extent in the sense that it becomes a more ethically-run company with an improved reputation, but okumura foods is a major global corporation and by nature it just cannot attain that local mom-and-pop vibe that her and her grandfather wanted. so i think after a while she retains her shareholding in the company but gives up her directorship to other trusted board members and uses okumura foods as a launching off point to branch out into starting her own much smaller company, which she keeps local and runs herself, and it does become the well-loved community hub she always wanted it to be. doesn't live in tokyo directly because she prefers quieter areas on the outskirts but commutes there merrily all the time to work and see her friends.

sumire

i personally don't think sumire ever achieves her and kasumi's dream of being number one in the world. i think she competes at an international level and comes very close many many times before she eventually comes to peace with that, decides that that's enough for her, and retires from competition. for a while she follows a similar path to ryuji and becomes a children's gymnastics coach, but after a while of other people encouraging her that she could be applying her skills to more competitive pursuits just in a different way, she eventually becomes an olympic-level professional coach and ends up helping many of her students achieve her and kasumi's dream in their stead. also doesn't live in tokyo but visits frequently and has an active whatsapp chat running with ren and akechi on top of the thieves chat.

akechi

decides he's had enough of being dead after a minute. takes a gap year and starts college at the same time as ren. studies law and goes into criminal practice, but bounces between defence and prosecution before getting fucking sick of it and deciding to quit law. he starts his own small private detective agency instead. years later he writes a book and eventually re-enters the media world with a significantly different image to his detective prince years. is surly the ENTIRE time. somehow this doesn't hurt his popularity. no longer has a food blog. moves in with ren after ryuji moves out but not initially romantically, just as roommates with a Tension that makes everyone else extremely uncomfortable

ren

i think ren struggles for a while to work out what his career should be before he eventually figures out he is not the type to get fulfilment from his professional life, and wants to focus more on what he's doing in his personal life, which is helping people. basically after graduation he moves back to tokyo and goes to college and changes his mind a whole bunch of times before eventually settling on some kind of psychology/sociology degree, but then mostly just continues doing a lot of part-time jobs to keep himself afloat while he figures out his life plan. during this time he starts getting into volunteering and social work and spends more of his time working with vulnerable and at-risk youth, basically whatever will put him in most contact with people who need him in a non-paid capacity. eventually when sojiro is set to retire ren takes over leblanc and runs it peacefully as his day job, and the rest of his time is spent on non-profit work. living with akechi.

morgana

the damn cat lives forever. the sakuras and ren's parents have a shared custody agreement. he disregards this and spends most of his time with ren. he and akechi are fine with each other but do not get along vis a vis homemaking decisions mostly because morgana has opinions about their lifestyle choices and akechi doesn't take well to being told where to keep his dishes by a small creature without thumbs.

[kenyummy]

꒰ ⍣'ˎ˗ conspiracies ✰ jaime reyes ꒱

✰ SYNPOSIS : jaime just really wants you to think he's cool. in both forms. too bad you're a raging conspiracy theorist.

inspired by this post so thank you for making my mind spiral insert heart emoji. i love xolo (as everyone who knows me both online and irl knows) and i love jaime so this was just a treat

also this is highkey movie jaime coded but yj him works too tbh

!!! LIVA DNI !!!

It was a regular Monday morning when you first met Blue Beetle.

Your life was as normal as could be, and you were perfectly content living your life out like this. Growing up fine. Leaving school fine. Entering college and trying to find a real, lasting job fine.

Today was a regular old day in your regular old life. Nothing special, really. Just on your way to work at your local coffee shop—mostly to pay off your crippling student loans—in an admittedly nice (and safe) neighbourhood.

Which is why you weren't expecting this. In such a dramatic fashion—a random in a ski-mask comes by and tugs your tote bag off your shoulder, and starts running. The tote bag with your expensive ass phone, and those authentically beautiful earrings you'd gotten as a gift for your 18th inside—so of course you take running in your scuffed and ragged sneakers.

"Wh—hey! Come back here!" You yell out as people on the sidewalk rush to the side from the random pushing their way through. They may be covered by a good ten layers—but by god were they fast. No way you could catch up to them.

But you'd be damned if you didn't try. Too bad you didn't join track in high school—you have a feeling it really would've helped right now.

You consider yelling out that you have a barista's salary and you doubt there'd be much of worth inside, but you're stopped before you do.

The random thief in question is not on the ground anymore. In fact—he's three feet up in the air and dangling upside down, screaming. The ski mask falls off and you see it's actually one of your regulars in your shop.

Your eyes widen, then narrow into a hard glare "Dan?! What the hell, man?!" His eyes look anywhere but at you. He knows he's never going to get his double-caffeinated espresso ever again.

But then, you look at exactly what is holding him from that unfortunate angle. A superhero... you think. Black and blue suit—tendril-like things behind him, one holding up your thief. Blasters underneath his feet that seem to allow him to levitate so high. Pure white eyes and no mouth in sight.

"Why don't you give the lady back her bag, huh?" His voice—while it's partially distorted, he seems rather giddy. Maybe he's a new hero. You were sure as hell Batman wouldn't be running around here.

The bag drops to the ground as soon as he says it, and you rush to collect your things. People around crowd in awe at the heroic act, but all you can think about is how grateful you are that you hadn't lost your phone. Thank god for Block Blast.

You look up—Dan falls to the ground with a grunt while the hero lands gracefully on his feet, hands on his hips—you can practically feel the self-satisfaction radiating off him. He looks to you. "Are you alright, ahem—ma'am?"

Did he just make his voice deeper?

You nod, and spare him a smile. "Yes, thanks to you. I can't tell you how grateful I am that I won't be late for work now."

The hero seems rather confused, "Wait, what—"

"Thank you!" You call out as you take off, running. You had fifteen minutes until your shift started and no way you'd miss it and in turn miss an hour of pay. The hero seems to try and call out to you—but the crowd around him doesn't let him move an inch—and it's like clockwork when a camera and microphone get shoved in his face like he's nothing but a trashy celebrity.

"And, Blue Beetle—how is it that you came to this civilian's aid so fast?"

"I guess I just have a sixth-sense for saving people in need."

You grab the television remote and switch the TV off before you roll your eyes back into your skull. Jaime—your friend and currently the only person at the stand with you—seems less than pleased you did so.

"Hey! What's with you?"

You make a face. "Sixth-sense for saving people? Seriously? Even you have to admit, it's pretty stupid."

"Didn't you say that you were the one he saved this morning? And that's why you weren't late for your shift?"

Resting your elbows on the glass stand, you call for your lazy-ass co-worker (currently on his phone in the back) to take over the cash register when a customer comes in.

You continue to talk away with Jaime, who's shining a glass. "Just because I'm thankful he saved me doesn't mean he's exempt from my well-deserved critique. He sounds like a less-inspiring Superman right now."

Jaime laughs, muttering something under his breath before turning back up to look at you. "That's just mean, chica. I think he's pretty cool, no?"

He places the glass on the table near the blender—while you huff indignantly, leaning backwards. "You've always been like this with superheroes, and so have I. Some things will never change, Jaime. Just like the fact we're both in crippling debt at this dead-end job."

"But... you don't even think he is a little cool... at all? I mean—the costume's pretty sick." He stands over you, arms crossed and smiling.

You pause, thinking. "... Alright, fine. Yeah, the costume looks cool. But I think his head's too big for his body. ...Hey, he kinda reminds me of you."

"... You don't say?"

"I do say," you affirm, smiling at his scoff. "Time to get back to the shop, Reyes. You can uplift any bugs you want after our shift is done."

You press your finger to his nose and move him back, bouncing out of the back room as he watches your retreating figure—deep in thought.

You thought that would be the end of it. Maybe, in a few months or so—you'd get into trouble and a hero would come and save you like in the movies. Maybe even in a few weeks or so. Depending on how unlucky you were.

Well, it seems Lady Luck has a hate boner for you, because this was just getting ridiculous.

On Tuesday, all your stuff was thrown high into a tree and only a being with flight could reach it. The day after that, somebody was about to trip in front of your bus—saved at the nick of time by a blue hero.

Thursday, you were almost hit by a bus this time—swerving on the road like it were drunken, only for the two parts of a now disconnected bus to fall beside you, and a beetle in front of you with a smile.

On the last day of a regular school week—you nearly tripped with several large coffees on your tray—and it doesn't take a genius to figure out why your shirt was not littered with stains and why you still had a job. You don't even know where he came from.

Saturday, a pipe broke and boiling water was about to spray you in the middle of the street. Before it even touched you, a holographic blue shield formed around you and saved you from the embarrassment of a see-through shirt.

On Sunday—you were sick of this. An hour into your shift—somebody rushes in with a bat and shatters the glass casing of your displayed pasteries, stuffing them all into their mouth (how did they even do that...?) and taking off.

Before you could even react—or anyone could, for that matter—Blue Beetle was already there, in the doorframe with a tut and a shaking head. You almost lose your mind as a crowd surrounds him with a tied-up thief beside his feet.

You practically collapse when you get back home, in your dingy little apartment. You lay down like a starfish on your bed and think back to everything that had happened to you the past week.

Robbery. Sabotage (you think). Near-death experiences, twice. Plain and simple clumsiness. Probably sabotage again. And more robbery.

This was very not normal. You've come to this conclusion. Whatever supernatural entity wanted you gone was very aggressive about it. You couldn't possibly imagine what you did to piss somebody off this bad.

Maybe they just didn't like your caramel frappuccino. (You don't think it met health standards, anyway).

But what's even more abnormal than that—Blue Beetle is just always there. Every single time. Without fail—as soon as a problem arises, he just ever so conveniently shows up and saves the day like a true hero.

You practically groan into your pillow.

It's like you haven't had one normal day since he showed up. Since he first saved you. It doesn't help that Jaime insists he's a totally awesome hero just doing his job—saving civilians.

No... he's not just saving you... he's practically always there. A hero can be good. But never that good. He doesn't have super speed, nor (from what you can tell) a literal sense for danger (as you watched a building collapse on him on live TV).

There's no tangible way for him to be constantly saving you, in all different areas of the city, in no particular order.

Unless...

You enter your workplace, determined. This Monday morning you found yourself being mugged in an alleyway you didn't even know existed until today.

Take a wild guess who showed up as the gun pressed to your temple.

You discard your tote and shrug off your coat with snowflakes dribbled all over. You can't believe it had just started snowing today of all day—perhaps the universe sensed your imminent realisation and decided to try and hinder you.

Too bad, the universe could take its pity dick out of your mouth—because you didn't need it.

Today you and Jaime didn't have an overlapping shift together. His finished as soon as yours' started, actually—watching him slip on a thick jacket and greet you with a smile. "Hey, [name], what's—"

You stomp towards him—looking very mildly threatening in your green apron. You point at him, digging your nail into his chest. "You. me. Back of the shop. Now."

His eyes widen as you grab his collar and practically drag him through the cooking areas—co-workers laughing as they holler, "Jaime's gonna get some!"

Yeah, he's getting some alright.

Some conspiracy theories.

You practically shove him into a wall when you kick the back door shut.

"Jaime—I've known you since high school. Didn't really like you then—but we ended up in the same course at the same college and now we're bonded for life. You're my dude, my bro, my hermano—that's why I'm telling you this." You speak, deadly seriously. You're staring up at him with murder in your eyes.

"... Wait, you didn't like me in high school?" He deflates.

"Not important. What is important is that I need to tell you this—because I feel like I'm going crazy." You grab onto his shoulders and glare into his eyes. "I think Blue Beetle is stalking me."

A few seconds. Almost nervous silence. You don't break a sweat, but Jaime seems to be perspiring like he'd just run a marathon—eyes looking anywhere but at you. "... Why do you think so...?"

"Every single time I'm in trouble, he's always there in the blink of an eye! I mean—it's more than saving me, it's every single time. This week has literally been the worst week of my life, and he's always there. The minute somebody takes something from the cafe on my shift—boom, he's in the doorframe before I can blink. Bus about to ram straight into me? He slices that motherfucker in half."

Jaime sweats even more now. "He probably does that with everyone."

"But he doesn't! Yesterday I saw somebody robbing a convenience store in broad daylight—and the police were already there before he even showed up! And you know how long the police like to take their sweet time." You shake his shoulders back and forth. "Jaime, I swear to god—I'm not crazy. He is freaking stalking me. I don't know why, or what for, but—"

An uncomfortable laugh escapes his lips as he pushes you back, lightly, so you're not practically squishing your nose against his. "[name], I'm pretty sure you're overthinking this. That's crazy—I mean, Blue Beetle is a superhero, why would he stalk—"

"I don't know!" You practically explode before he can finish, pacing back and forth with your chin cradled and your eyes narrowed into a glare at the ground. "Maybe he thinks I'm his Lois Lane or something—maybe that's how Superman got the girl and this newbie thinks he can replicate that with me. Argh! Maybe he thinks I'm going to become a villain?! Maybe he's from the future where I already am a villain, and my first step to villainy was getting mugged in an alleyway! You can never tell with these time travellers."

Jaime steadies you with a hand on your shoulder, sighing deeply—as if he's conflicted on saying something, "Look, [name]... I think... you've gotten the wrong idea. I didn't want to tell you this, but—"

Something dings. Your phone starts buzzing in your pocket and you gasp. "Shit! My shift is starting! I'll catch you up on my theory if anything else happens—tell me whatever it is later!"

You run back into the shop like your life depends on it—and Jaime's left standing there in the snow, dejected and thoroughly disenchanted.

Tuesday morning. Everything really hurts.

The sun shines directly into your eyes the moment you awake, and have to reel back from the heavenly brightness. You have no shift today—which means, as far as you're concerned, you're free to go do whatever you'd like.

You decide to stay in bed as long as possible.

Wrapped up in cosy white sheets and limps sprawled and messy over your frame—it takes only a few hours for you to get tired of laying around and get up to actually do something.

You rummage through your closet. Yesterday was your hair-wash day, so you'd be damned if you didn't go out and show off your fresh hair. Maybe you should go and see Jaime and his family. It's been a while since you had some of his abuela's cooking.

Yeah. That'd be nice. No trouble, no weird situations, and certainly no superheroes. Just you, your friend, and his sweet family.

You pick out a cute coat and even cuter flared leggings—grabbing your phone and mints (you never know) and your keys. You walk out the door with your head held high and hope in your bones.

You should've known better. Lady Luck wasn't about to let you run around without being completely miserable—no way. Maybe this time was your fault—dividing away from the main street and going through a shortcut that was devoid of people and rather thick with heavy snow.

It was you and your uggs against the world—stomping through heavy white and snuggling closer into your scarf as snowflakes flutter into your freshly washed hair. Dammit.

Humming a little song to yourself—you don't let this get you down. You're too excited to eat some really good authentic food. No way you're going to be a Debby Downer in their lovely home!

There's a shift in the roof in front of you. It creaks a little—and you instinctively look up. Your eyes widen in panic, and your feet are so buried in the snow you can hardly move—a large pile of white fluff that would be enough to bury you alive is about to do exactly that.

It tumbles, starts to fall and you're about to accept the status of a human snowwoman—when a figure dives in front of you and a blue bubble forms around your figure.

You open your eyes, cracking the lids and peering ever so slightly. It's not cold. It's not even fluffy. You don't feel anything different—but you do see a sheepish blue and black figure, all too familiar, trapped within this same bubble.

You could see red right now. "Are you... Are you serious?!"

You expect him to jolt back, to be surprised—but he doesn't visibly seem to be. He stands there, hand behind the back of his neck and eyes focused on the snow that falls over his bubble like it were miles more interesting than you.

You barely notice it, however—as you finally decide to confront him about your little theory. "Are you stalking me?!"

Blue Beetle gasps. You've even shocked yourself a little bit. You didn't expect to be so blunt about it—but whatever gets the job done.

"Wh—stalking you?! Are you serious?! Why would I... stalk you...?" His tone starts to grow suspiciously more like a question as he nears the end of his quip—you narrow your eyes even further and press your finger accusingly into his chest plate.

"You literally show up every single time I'm in the mildest situations of danger! The moment I trip, the moment my things are stuck—the moment a freakin' bus is about to ram into me, you're always there! Are you just following me around, waiting for the next thing to happen?"

"I thought youd be more grateful! I'm saving you from danger, aren't I?" He sasses. You sneer.

"Of course I'm grateful, but tripping and falling with coffee in my hand isn't really dangerous, in my books." You cross your arms, staring up at him and his pure white eyes. "Now, if you don't have a good explanation for this, I swear on my life I will—"

You don't really have a threat on what you can do to an actual superhero—so you're kind of glad (hidden underneath all the initial shock) that he does something that steals the voice from your throat.

With one swoop—his mask is ripped off his face—a head of curly hair spills out from underneath and a face is revealed to be one you recognise so vividly.

You step back a little, eyes and mouth wide open, "... Jaime? You're the Blue Beetle...? What the hell... when did this even happen...? Why are you a freaking superhero now?! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I'll answer everything later, I promise. I just..." He averts his gaze, lips pressed tightly together. "I... I wasn't stalking you, chica. I... I just didn't want anything to happen to you, so... I just happened to go around your usual routes while patrolling the city."

For a moment, you pause—and all the embarrassment hits you at once, like a freight train. You ranted to Blue Beetle about... Blue Beetle stalking you. What a life. But you don't let it show, you can't let him know your weakness right now. You're supposed to be the accusatory one here.

"So... you were stalking me, Reyes?" You lift a brow. "And you did come barging into my shop and lifted me into your arms before I could trip and lose my job."

That particular moment seems to make him flush and he turns his head to the side, "I... I just... you know..." Trailing off, it falls quiet.

A few moments of awkward silence make him speak up again. "I... wanted you to think I was... cool... and I didn't want you to lose your job... cause then that'd mean I wouldn't see you every day... and I'd really gotten used to it, you know? I swear. That was it."

You could almost laugh in his face. But you're a really good friend, so you don't. "... You know, that's such a you thing to do, Jaime. Idiot. I can't believe you let me think I had a super-powered creep following me around." A smile crawls onto your face, and it's almost so infectious it latches onto him.

His lips turn upwards, "Come on... don't embarrass me, chica. Is it wrong for a guy to want a girl to think both he and his alter-ego are cool?"

"You can't have 'em all." You shake your head, then turn around to look at the snow piled over the force field. "How are we gonna get out? I was heading over to your house, to start with."

"Ah... seriously?" He seems starstruck and almost dopey—but shakes his head quickly and reaches his hand out. The mask reconstructs over his face just as he grins, pearly white peeking out. "Come on, hermosa."

A few seconds later—you're being carried in his arms as he bursts out of the snow—hovering in the sky as you cling on for dear life. "Ho... Holyyyy shit! How do you do this?!"

Everything is so small under you, and you feel motion sick just looking at the top of snowy buildings. He laughs like he finds your fright amusing. "Don't worry, you're not going anywhere."

You pause, eyes focused on your hands for a second,d before you look up at him and his pure white eyes. "... Yeah I know. You did take care of me for a whole week... even if I didn't know it was you. I... never got to thank you for that, did I?"

His tone is light—amused, "Yeah. You were too busy ranting to me about your conspiracy theory."

Your cheeks burn and you slap his arm—knowing he probably didn't even feel it. "Shut up. I was right, wasn't I? Anyways, I'll thank you now. For the whole week.

You lean up and press a chaste kiss to his masked cheek—face feeling hot beneath your touch and you squeeze your eyes closed like you can't bear to look at him. "Thank you... thank you for being there, even if I didn't want you to."

He's stunned into silence for a few moments. Then, he speaks—shakily. "... Y... Yeah. Of course. A... Anything for you."

You smile, softly, "Good. Then how about we go back to your house and I can finally eat some of your abuela's cooking, then?"

"Sounds like a plan, hermosa." He grips you tighter in his hold. "And after that... I could fly you home...?" His voice trails off, expecting you to answer his half-question.

You laugh a little and nod, smiling. Arms wrapped around his shoulder tighter when you speak, "If that's the only thing you wanna do, Reyes."

Another moment of silence. Then, he hisses, seemingly flustered and angry, "Khaji—shut up!"

You give him a confused look, but he quickly speaks, "No—no, that's... I'm talking to my scarab..." Another confused glance. "I'll explain it all to you later, I promise."

"Whatever you say, beetle. Now hurry up."

He blasts off to your command and you bury your face in his chest as you rip through the snowy clouds.

Perhaps your co-workers were right, and Jaime really did get some that day.

[franabz]

Fran Fran Fran!!

Idk when you’ll do asks or at least this ask but…

I need to see ghost x singleparent! Reader.

Lots of love

Sammy (reena)

★ Little things

You and Simon have been best friends since high school, and you both seemed to naturally gravitate towards one another. You both weren't exactly the most talkative pair which worked out in both of your favors quite nicely since there didn't need to be a strong conversation (if even at all) for the two of you to be content with one another. It was refreshing.

One thing led to another and suddenly you were carrying another man's baby fresh out of high school; a man you thought loved and cared about you all to turn his back the second he got that pregnancy test back positive. Simon always knew the man was trouble from the start, but you never should have had to find it out for yourself in these circumstances. He was always right there, even while on deployment to god knows where, listening to your broken sobs and blubbering stutters over the phone about how hard it was to juggle raising a daughter while having been fresh out of high school and barely running on multiple jobs with the pay that was practically a joke to you.

Starting off was difficult yes, but you never not once regretted what happened. You love your daughter Sydney with all of your heart and always did everything in your power to give her the best life possible, even if money was tight and she couldn't always get the candy in the grocery store checkout isles that sat oh so temptingly for her chubby little hands to get ahold of. In spite of Simon being gone and having joined the military, he always did his best to help you and give you the life he knew you deserved. You both deserved.

One day in particular it was raining exceptionally hard and Simon was fresh off deployment and needed a place to stay the night to clear his head and snap him back to reality after a jarring mission he never bothered to talk about. You knew better than to push. You were setting Sydney into her highchair, clipping the tray back onto the chair and stepping into the kitchen to scoop some food out of a pot for the toddler as she babbled incoherent nonsense followed by some random phrases like "Hungry" and "Bottle." Simon had just stepped out of the bathroom after a much needed shower wearing a black 141 branded t-shirt and a pair of joggers he luckily packed during his deployment.

You looked up from the plate of food you made for Sydney and gave him a small fond grin. He returned the grin and walked into the kitchen alongside you, leaning back against the cool marble countertops and watching you do you (something he could never get tired of)

"Hard at work I see." He muttered with a playful huff, taking a slight step forward while looking over your shoulder. "When am I not?" You snorted in suit "Taking care of this little gremlin is a full time job."

"Not like you have to remind me, birdie." He playfully waved his hand in a dismissive manner, setting his skull-printed balaclava onto the counter beside him. He never liked wearing it as a civvie. Especially not in front of you or Sydney. Simon much preferred to keep his work far away from the peacefulness of being around you and the baby bear, finding it his own little slice of home in the midst of the hell he goes through behind closed doors. Sydney squealed a little "Si-Si!" as soon as Simon came into her peripheral view, outstretching her small chubby hands and bouncing around in her seat like a loose spring in a couch. "Yeah, yeah... Si-Si's out. Don't go jumping 'round like a bloody bunny, missy." Simon's mouth cracked a sliver of a smile as he kneeled over, ruffling Sydney's hair fondly and earning a giggle out of the little girl.

You had been watching the whole exchange from the side, placing Sydney's food onto the tray of her high chair and fighting back a goofy smile "I'm starting to think she like you more than me." You joked, tilting Sydney's chin up a bit to tie a bib around her neck. "Don't be mad i'm cooler." Simon huffed, glaring at you without any heat. All you did was roll your eyes and pick up another plate, handing the hefty meal to Simon with a smile. He looked down at the plate of food forced into his hands and choked out a small scoff "You know I told you... You don't 'ave to feed me, birdie..."

You simply shrugged and pushed the plate of food further against his chest, the smile never leaving your lips. "And do I ever listen?" You retorted.

"No." He muttered, his voice getting smaller as he could finally feel himself crumbling under the delectable scents of cooked chicken that was unlike anything he'd ever eaten in an MRE. Obviously.

"Exactly." You hummed, smile growing in victory that he didn't put up a fight for once and actually accepted the food you gave him. "So eat up, yeah? I need you staying in good shape for when you're back out on deployment." You added, plucking a bit of extra chicken off the bone in the tray it was cooked in and popping it in your mouth, eye contact never breaking. Simon just sighed and set his plate onto the counter, eating slowly and savoring every bite as if it was his last time enjoying a home cooked meal.

It was the little things that mattered.

[tj-dragonblade]

[Fluffbruary Fic] Tradition

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: G Word Count: 2404 Tags: Fluffbruary, Fluffbruary 2025, pre-relationship, fluff, holidays, baking cookies

Notes: Originally, this was for Week 2 of @mr-sadman's SeasonalSadman2024 event, using the prompt Traditions. But it didn't want to flow for seasonal timeliness so I put it aside and slated it for the end of Fluffbruary instead. And it turns out, all it needed was a rest and some breathing room. Inspiration came from both @chaosheadspace and @carnelianmeluha 's creator threads on the server, so I will dedicate this to both of you ❤️ Even if it's February now.

Fluffbruary 2025 prompts: Day 22: bullet | loyalty | unique Day 27: kitchen | bell | sun Day 28: clean | galaxy | keep

Summary: Dream shares his time and Hob shares his stories, and together they are maybe sharing something else.

On AO3

"Dream! You're just in time!"

Dream hesitates, abruptly concerned that he had forgotten an appointment and somehow managed to keep it serendipitously—but no. He is very certain that he was not expected here today.

'Here', as it turns out, is Hob's kitchen, where the watery winter daylight streams through the window over the sink and Hob is wrestling a large mound of dough into an enormous mixing bowl. There is another mound set by on the worktop; Hob's sleeves are rolled up in a very fetching manner, his hair is mostly contained in a small knot on the back of his head, and he's wearing an apron that proclaims him World's Okayest Baker in garish pink letters. There are smears of the rich brownish dough all over it, matching smears on Hob's arms and hands, and the room is fragrant with spices—cardamom, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger.

Dream cocks his head the slightest bit. "In time for what?" It is easy enough to intuit; the kitchen is replete with wisps of daydreams that whisper the answer, but 'making biscuits' is merely the title of the story, not the full depth of it which Dream would hear in Hob's own words.

"Making biscuits!" Hob smiles broadly at him, warm and full of life. "School has a tradition, faculty bakes treats for the students before term lets out for Christmas. Some folks buy in from the fancy bakeries 'cause they don't know their way around the kitchen, but me I like to do it from scratch." He sets aside the bowl. "And I like to make extra. Student body's small enough, we're not some big university, but I like doing my part to make sure there's enough to go round."

"Indeed." Dream's coat and boots disappear to their places by Hob's front door as he adjusts his manifestation to better suit the shape of the afternoon before him.

"Sooo, I was doing my baking today—and I'd love to have your help, if you're here for a visit and don't mind something so menial."

"It is no such thing, Hob Gadling." Dream offers a tiny smile. "I would be honored to assist the 'world's okayest baker' with a task so important."

Hob glances down at his well-used apron and laughs. "Ah, yes. The apron lies, I'll have you know—I am nothing short of a fantastic baker after all these years. It was a gift from Jaime, a joke." He shakes his head fondly, the barest hint of melancholy crinkling the corners of his eyes.

Dream is certain he could follow the thread of the name and its connection to Hob to the Dreaming, bring full awareness of this dreamer to the fore, but again—there is comfort and camaraderie in hearing the stories of Hob's life as Hob would tell them, directly. So he chooses instead to offer question.

"A former lover?" He is reasonably certain he would know if Hob were currently involved with anyone.

"Yeah." Hob's expression has gone nostalgic. "Dated a couple years, lived together awhile; ended it about five months before you came back. Jaime had a once-in-a-lifetime job opportunity, moved to Toronto. And, well, I wasn't leaving London, was I? Not when I was still waiting for you." He smiles, and it is tinged with…not sadness, precisely, but something that is soft and wistful and commiserative.

The heart that Dream has approximated thumps heavily in his breast. "My absence cost you this relationship—"

"No, no no, now, none of that," Hob interrupts, speaking over his shoulder as he turns to wash his hands. "It was lovely while it lasted but we both knew how it would end, sooner or later. Jaime was meant for grander things than me, and, well. All my relationships have to end one way or another, don't they." He turns off the tap and dries his hands, flashes Dream a brilliant grin and a quick wink. "'Cept ours, of course. Can always count on seeing you again, my friend."

"Of course," Dream echoes, inordinately warmed by how easily Hob centers Dream in his life, welcomes him. Broadly, as he has just spoken, yes; Dream is assured that Hob's delight in his company is genuine. But also, specifically, how easily he makes room for Dream in whatever he is doing when Dream visits without notice. He has demonstrated time and again that Dream's presence is appreciated, and no burden; that Dream is important enough that Hob will shape his plans around Dream as needed, will include him at a moment's notice.

It is. Gratifying, to receive such regard, from one who is neither his subject nor seeking to curry favor.

Dream is never quite certain what to do with it.

"But anyway!" Hob opens a drawer and rifles through it briefly, withdrawing a rolling pin and setting it aside. "These Christmas biscuits have been a tradition of mine even before Jaime, and I'm glad the school gives me an excuse to keep it going. I'm making the lemon rosemary lavender ones that you like next—they're very popular every year—and chocolate candy cane if I have the time after that. But first! Gingerbread." He turns to the fragrant mahogany dough on his worktop and begins pushing and kneading at it, working it into a somewhat flatter shape.

"I always make two batches," he says, as he moves to apply the rolling pin to the reworked dough. "One for stars and rounds, one for proper gingerbread men. Once I get this rolled out, d'you want to start with the cutters?" He nods toward a small assembly of metal and plastic shapes at the other end of the bench.

"Of course." Dream is pleased to take part in this creative process, in whatever way Hob can find use for him.

"Great, then I can start working the other batch on the table while you do." He's rolling vigorously, a steady rhythm molding the dough to his wishes, bared forearms flexing in a way that Dream finds somehow difficult to look away from.

"Is this a recipe of your own devising?" Dream is eager, he finds, to hear more of this story of Hob's traditions.

"Oh no, no, this is Oma Franziska's gingerbread recipe." Hob has that fondly-nostalgic look again. "She insisted we call her that, me and Jim. She'd lost contact with her own grandkids when she left Germany, you see, and she sort of adopted us when we moved in next to her. She knew Jim's truth, too, and it was nice to have a neighbor who he could be himself with."

Hob has told Dream of Jim previously. Jim, who had been Hob's wife Peg to the rest of the world but Hob's husband in safe company; Jim, who had loved the sea, who sang bawdy pub songs with the loveliest voice, who left Hob with many fond memories and stories to carry with him as he continued living.

"She looked after us both, in a fashion. Knew her way around the kitchen blindfolded and backwards—I'm very sure food was her love language. Always made sure the neighbors were fed if they needed and was just—she was really something, y'know? I'm glad I got to know her." Hob gives the dough a final roll with a flourish. "Stayed put until she passed, even though I was kind of pushing it for that lifetime. I didn't want to leave her behind when she had so little time left, especially when she'd been there for me after losing Jim and all of that."

"Your kindness does you credit." Dream is warmed by the tale, by yet another glimpse of the man Hob had worked to become in the past century.

"Heh." Hob beams at him, and something low in Dream's stomach tightens marginally. "Anyway, Oma Franziska loved sharing recipes with us—sending her traditions forward, she called it—and I've kept 'em alive for her. This gingerbread is based on an older recipe, but she tinkered with it quite a lot and clearly she knew what she was about; these biscuits always get rave reviews." He turns, plucks two of the biscuit cutters from the jumble on the counter and presents them to Dream. "Here you go."

Dutifully, Dream accepts the cutters and moves to the rolled-out dough, the collective unconscious granting easy familiarity with a task he has never performed.

"Perfect," Hob declares, as Dream begins pressing the simple shapes neatly into the dough. "Let me get your tray prepped so you've got somewhere to set these little beauties as you go."

Something deep in Dream warms at the easy praise, pleased and content; he lets the feeling wash over him as he works, as Hob sets a lined baking tray in easy reach and begins rolling out the second batch over on the table, as Hob continues talking.

"I love this recipe," Hob says, and Dream can hear how he's smiling even though his back is turned. "They turn out just the right amount of soft with a lovely balance of flavors, and they're exactly sweet enough. Gotta start it early to give it plenty of time to 'ripen', for the lactic acid to do its thing, but it's very much worth it. This batch I started about a month ago so they'd be ready now. And the biscuits themselves will keep at least 'til February, assuming they last that long."

"You deem them worth the effort," Dream surmises, arranging the biscuits he has cut on the baking sheet.

"Mmyep, definitely. Especially when I'm making them to share with others."

Dream can still hear the way Hob is smiling, and it warms him. Hob has such care for the people in his life, for those he sheperds and those he works beside; Dream is grateful to witness it, to be included in that care, for the ready welcome he continues to find in Hob's company.

"The time taken is to their benefit," he offers, transferring more cut biscuits to their tray. "The dreams sown into the dough are rich, and deeply rooted. They have grown robust, being let to steep so long; your biscuits will be a masterpiece of comfort and flavor."

"There's. Dreams. My dreams? In the dough?" Hob sounds particulary flummoxed; Dream looks up to find him turned about, blinking dumbfounded at him, rolling pin held idle in one hand.

"Yes." Dream lays another gingerbread star on his tray. "Your intent, your joy in sharing, your delight in doing for others. Your wish to carry the memories of the recipe forward. They all shape your baking, enhance your end result."

"Heh. I had no idea." The tips of Hob's ears have reddened considerably and there is a trace of pink visible across his cheeks.

It becomes him.

Hob blinks, shakes his head, recovering his composure. "Bet all the dreams in the dough won't save them from burning, though." He grins.

"Most certainly not," Dream allows, smiling in turn. "We shall need to time them appropriately. I can assist, if you like."

Hob has turned back to finish his rolling, speaks over his shoulder. "How's that work, then? You'll listen to the dreams as they bake, and know when they're perfectly done based on vibes?"

"Perhaps, if you think it best." Dream can feel his smile growing. "I had thought I might simply watch the timer."

Hob has stopped and turned to stare at him again; Dream reaches to take the rolling pin and use it himself. He lets the smile on his face remain, lets it be known to Hob.

"You're making jokes now?" Hob grins widely, eyes crinkling with mirth, his tone one of wonder. "Red letter date! Best mark my calendar."

Dream, flush with pleasant warmth at the easy teasing, turns back to roll his scrap dough into a flat sheet, delighting in the little chuckle Hob gives as he begins stamping the simple stylized human shapes into his own sheet of dough.

The day passes pleasantly, gingerbread baking fragrantly while they move on to the next biscuit on Hob's planned list; Hob prepares the shortbread dough while Dream monitors time on the oven. It is very much a matter of 'vibes' that lets him pull each tray at exactly the right moment, transferring them to cooling racks, setting the pans aside to be prepared for their next batch. They roll out and cut the lavender lemon rosemary biscuits next, and since Dream is sharing the labor there is plenty of time to make the chocolate candy cane ones as well.

They clean up behind the baking and Hob prepares lunch while the biscuits are all cooling; once they have eaten, they move on to decorating. Dream is given the gingerbread and loses himself in the flow of creativity, piping swirls of colorful icing onto the stars and rounds, applying edible glitter and sugar pearls with a discerning eye while Hob smears chocolate icing and sprinkles crushed candy cane bits on the chocolate biscuits. Together they finish up with the gingerbread men, adding eyes and mouths and clothes in wide variety, each distinctly unique. Dream can feel as they work how Hob's daydreams float and shift around them, how intent has settled into the biscuits at every stage of the process, even here at the end.

He can taste it, as well, when he and Hob sample their work after finishing.

It is little wonder Hob's biscuits are popular at the school's annual function. They are, quite literally, made with love.

~

When he visits Hob again in February, he is presented with one of the gingerbread men they had made in December, carefully kept in an airtight container.

"Saved the last one for you." Hob winks, and Dream's stomach dips pleasantly.

The biscuit is indeed as good as it had been two months prior, ripe with the care baked into it, sweet and fragrant and satisfying on a level far beyond the physical. Dream nibbles, listens while Hob regales him with the story of the student love letter he'd accidentally intercepted on Valentine's day, basks in the comfortable warmth of Hob's voice and Hob's presence and Hob's home.

And somewhere, deep within the core of himself, he acknowledges the truth that he can taste in the biscuit, even now: that some of the care and the love that have gone into their creation, is very much specifically for him.

= Started: 12/12/24 Drafted: 2/23/25 Posted: 2/28/25

[dandylion240]

“Honey” Cory said sitting beside Jonah on the couch. “What’s wrong?”

Burrowing his face into the older man’s shoulder he whimpered softly shaking his head. “It’s nothing” he murmured when he was able to speak.

“It’s something to make you act like this” Cory pointed out softly rubbing the back of Jonah’s neck. “Tell me what happened.”

Sniffing Jonah moved enough to look up at the older man. A year ago he’d never have thought he’d be in a relationship. Never considered getting involved with someone so much older. “I saw my brother today. He was at the lounge.”

“Oh” his eyes filled with understanding. He didn’t need to know what happened. The fact that Jonah was trying to blend into the couch cushions was explanation enough. Cupping his face between his hands “I’m sorry it didn’t go well.”

Several large tears rolled down his cheeks. “He accused me of doing drugs.”

The hurt bewildered tone made Cory’s heart ache. He knew to the untrained eye the scars along Jonah’s arms could look like track marks instead of the cuttings they were. Images of the night he found Jonah lying in a pool of blood because he’d cut too deep and nicked an artery. He’d almost died….”do you want me to schedule an appointment with Doctor Morgan?”

Stiffening his arms “I don’t…”

Kissing his protesting lips Cory chuckled softly “I know you don’t want to but you know you should.”

Jonah hated knowing he needed the therapist as much as he disliked why he had to have one. “Alright” he agreed earning a smile from Cory that almost made up for it.

“What do you want for dinner” he asked thankful that Jonah hadn’t fought him on this.

Shrugging he looked away “I’m not really hungry.”

“You will be later” he checked the time “Courtney’s not even home from school yet. You have plenty of time to work up an appetite”

“I don’t…um not right now” The look of horror in his eyes saying more than his fumbling words could.

“I didn’t mean that” he chuckled hoping this wasn’t the start of another dark episode.

“Let’s watch a movie” he suggested. When Jonah failed to respond he asked “still thinking about your brother?”

Jonah’s head jerked upwards “I’m sorry. I know Jayden. He’s not going to give up. What am I going to do?”

“I thought you wanted to see your family” he said taking his hand.

“I’m not good enough” the self-defeat evident in his downcast face and shoulders.

“What happened to you wasn’t your fault” he repeated firmly as he’d down thousands of time in the past few months.

“I put myself in that situation” he cried going back to his usual comeback. This time after he said it he got up “I should check on Eli. He should be waking from his nap.” A clear sign he was withdrawing from the situation.

Shaking his head Cory let him go. He was in unfamiliar territory. Jonah had always argued with him trying to prove how it was his fault. For leaving home the way he did. Taking the job at the bar where he didn’t feel safe. Everything was his fault. Something else was bothering him now.

Walking to the baby’s room he opened the door to find Jonah talking to Eli. “I’m going out. I’ll be back with supper.”

Nodding Jonah whispered in Eli’s ear ‘tell Cory bye bye.” His son giggled lifting his hand waving at Cory as he left.

Previous/Next

[pruneunfair]

When you have a shitty sibling. *TW: talk of abuse and rape*

This is a little different than what I usually post.

Not too long ago, I made a vent post that was mostly pretty vague but got the central point across, it's deleted now but not like it matters since it was just mindless ranting.

That vent post was dedicated mostly to my younger brother.

For all the people with siblings out there, we already know those corny depictions of brothers and sisters always getting along and calling each other "Big bro" was not the most accurate form of a sibling relationship. Naturally you fight a lot with this person considering they are a built in room mate, meaning you have to live with someone including their worst habits. Maybe they plop a plate into the sink right as you're done doing dishes, maybe they take your things without bothering to ask you, those are all normal things to expect out of a sibling. What doesn't feel normal is when they reach this level of behavior.

My brother who I'll refer to as B relatively liked to get on peoples nerves but other than that, he wasn't so bad to be around up until recently. It was little things at first, leaving his garbage behind in the living room, making a fuss if we asked him to do anything, and then it got progressively worse.

Skipping school for 3 months straight, running away from home to god knows what, bringing strange people home, vaping and taking substances, increasing levels of disrespect towards women, seemed to assume that if a person who happened to be female wasn't punished along side him meant that they were being bias toward her for being a girl, calling our own disabled mother lazy for being unable to work, expecting everyone to cater towards him and pick up his slack, actively call me and our mom a bitch/cunt, pretending that he's going to hit me to see me flinch, gaslighting us, severe lack of empathy, casually admitting to want to hit me and other people that make him mad, refusal to listen or admit when he's wrong.

B has changed this much in only the span of a year. The lack of empathy and over eagerness to have an excuse to threaten someone is honestly scaring me.

Lately I started to take on the role of tidying up around the house and cooking dinner. My mom as I mentioned is mentally disabled, she can still perform tasks herself and still is juggling around two households of the family, I don't wanna to get too into it but I'll just say that she needs to take a myriad of medication to help regulate her mind or else she could kill herself. Her mental health has declined in recent years to the point where she can't keep a job and she does need help more than ever.

Now I do not mind this at all, mom is still a very considerate woman who appreciates the help I do and still makes an effort to keep things easy, it's also a good way for me to learn independence and take care of myself. The problem is that I have to live with B for a brother and he likes to bring his gang of friends over for small house parties that I usually am in charge of when mom is away. The house is always left a mess as a result and I have to pick it up since B likes to weaponize his incompetence to escape responsibility, I have to pick up every piece of crap they leave behind and sweep up old crumbs off the floor only for those same kids to come back, destroy the house again, leave me to clean it up because B knows that if I don't, all he needs to do is continue weaponizing his incompetence until our mom snaps and has me clean it for him.

There is no compromising with him, B has made it clear that if he says "Nope" then we have to suck it up because he can always just run away to our dad or claim that we are just acting crazy. I can't even get some basic respect from him for being the maid for him and his friends bullshit.

Now this all wouldn't be so scary if I didn't know he had no empathy but he clearly doesn't. How do I know?

Well, I'll leave a pretty simple background: Mom kept telling dad to stop, Dad coerced mom that it would be fine and he lied about wearing a condom. 9 months later I was born.

This is very sensitive knowledge that we do not talk about at all, hell B and I weren't even supposed to know I was both a rape and a baby trap kid, I can't exactly remember why but mom mentioned it on a bad day that I now know was likely an episode.

And during an argument, B told our mother, the woman who was willing to stay with our father just so she can at least have a planned child in the name of B, that she should have taken some birth control before she "had sex" with our dad. That boy KNOWS that was one thing mom never wanted to remember, even when we reminded him WHY we don't talk about that, he didn't care, what mattered was that he got the point of him hating me across.

So yeah, I'm officially terrified of the same person who I used to know as an itty bitty baby sleeping in the crib next to my bed.

I know I am not the only one dealing with this shit, plenty of people do and it's shitty that you have to walk on egg shells around someone you knew when they were still innocent, a little baby turning into a monster with no interest in being better as a person, only in being right at all times. For anyone who has a shitty brother or sister reading this, I am so sorry that you have to live in fear of someone you called family but you are not alone, if you believe you might be in danger even, please tell someone, anyone at all, whenever it's a social worker at school, a cop, or even just a few people you trust. You don't deserve to believe you are worse then dirt just because you had to step up and pick up the slack around your household.

Thank you for listening.

[thalasseleno]

the movie made benitez look like a loner sometimes

which had some beautiful cinematography to represent that!! BUT in the book, upon being introduced he’s immediately recognized by multiple cardinals who’d never met him but had all heard about his service. he’s immediately welcomed! lomeli/lawrence notices several times benitez telling a story to cardinals listening intently to him. he makes a slow but noticeable climb up in votes, which makes way more sense in the book given the context that he is becoming more popular. auramaxxing actually. it’s interesting that they didn’t portray some of this.

also who was gonna tell me the turtle thing is something they completely made up for the movie and doesn’t actually happen at all in the book :( 

[captainjonnitkessler]

I truly, TRULY do not know how to say this, because the fact that I have to say it makes me feel like I am losing my grip on reality. But no, in the post-capitalistic anarchist utopia, I will not be relying on “autistic minecraft girlies” to be building inspectors because - and this may shock you - one of those occupations takes years of education in how to read and interpret hundreds of thousands of lines of regulations based on complicated math and physics that were the result of decades of tragedy and death, and the other one involves playing a children’s video game.

[mochindayo]

Oh, So much cat fur || L/A/DS Z/ayne x MC

I made an ao3 a bit ago. I've been a lurker on there since...idk...years, but. I'm going to uhh...i think post fics there too haha. may or may not see some crossposting. i'm being wild and it's also going to have regular fics (haha, that is if i decide i'm writing in the first place xD) there's one snz fic and one vanilla fic right now lol. Am i nervous? sure, but like- also i've lost it, idk. here we are. anyways. I'm so into LADS rn. here we are. i want to write more, but i always say that, write one thing, and disappear for another 5 months. maybe i'll change, who knows. I’m taking advantage of my motivation while I’ve got it rn

the portal, to...a fic in my ao3 lol. but i'll also put the fic here under the cut...because..why not?

Zayne, sneezing, because little kitty Zayne is choking on his own fur!!?? HUH!? OK SIR!?

======================

Zayne was always a neat and orderly person. It irked him that he was the cause of the copious amount of cat hair that was beginning to collect–on him and his furniture. 

Ever since the bizarre event that had left him with cat ears and a long, fluffy tail, he had been doing his best to maintain his cleanliness. This was lasting longer than he had wistfully hoped. 

He was shedding everywhere. 

The elegant strands of his midnight fur that adorned his cat features had begun piling up, turning his couch and sheets a grayish hue. He practically ate cat hair with every meal now. If anyone had a pet that shed, they would understand. 

Zayne had decided in order to lessen the amount of shed fur, he would brush his ears and tail three times a day. It was just about time to start his midday grooming session. He figured there should be enough time before you came over for lunch. 

Oftentimes, if you spent the evening with him–whether it was in his office or in his apartment–he would let you brush him. It was soothing. He would just melt into your touch. 

He got to work, grabbing his brush and finding a comfy space on the wood floors. 

How long has it been since he’s vacuumed? He admitted to himself, he had begun to slack on the cleaning. It had gotten exhausting keeping up with the amounts of sweeping he had to do everyday and becoming a cat has made him more prone to naps these days. Therefore, his floors were gaining quite the collection of cat fur. 

Zayne sighed slightly as he settled onto the floor in a cross legged position. However, no matter how gentle he sat down, it  hadn’t stopped him from stirring up the stray strands of fur into the air. He started on his 

With the precise motions of a surgeon, he ran the brush over his ears first. An attempt to ensure that each motion was controlled as to not let too much cat fur fly. The feeling was pleasant, he almost purred. 

Strands of his soft black fur detached from the brush, regardless of his attempts, drifting lazily through the air. 

He watched them float.

A small sigh left his lips. No matter how careful he was, the fur would go wherever it felt. The sun’s rays illuminated the fur flying through the air, accentuating how they floated gently before landing on his clothes, his floor–his face.

He gave a frustrated exhale from his nose, blowing the cat furs away from his nostrils. Then, he moved on to brushing his tail. He wasn’t a big fan of brushing his tail. It was a human scaled version of a maine coone’s tail, those of which were already long and fluffy. He swiftly moved the brush through his tail. Unlike his ears, this took more effort and these strands were more prone to flying wherever they felt like. 

More and more fur lifted into the air, curling in invisible trails around him. It was like a mini cloud of cat fur always hung around him. 

That’s when he felt it. 

A faint, miniscule tickle on the tip of his nose. It was hardly worth acknowledging at first. Just a light sensation that teased the edges of his sinuses. His nostrils gave a tiny twitch, and then nothing.

Zayne continued brushing, doing his best not to acknowledge any sensations on his face. This of course, scattered more fur into the air around him. Not that it could be helped. Still, he refused to give into the growing irritation, or acknowledge the way his breath had begun to catch. He was still in control. He could do this. 

He finally made it to the ends of his tail. The fullest, most luxurious part. It was beautiful, yet he cursed it. Although, you personally loved when he let you run your hands through it. He gave a few generous strokes, running the bristles through the fur with precision. 

More and more fur detached, swirled through the air, landing everywhere. 

His breath hitched. The tickle was beginning to settle in the back of his nose as he continued. He gave a particularly harsh tug on his next stroke as a knot had nestled itself deep in his fur. Big mistake on his end. A small plume of fur flew up into the air, curling directly into his face. He could feel each ticklish strand land on, around, and in his nose. The teased and tickled as he shakily inhaled. 

“No, no, n-nhh…I d-don’t– don’t need to snihHh–sneeze–” 

His nostrils flared, protesting the cat fur that tickled his nose. His breath hitched and stuttered, chest heaving. Fighting a losing battle, he finally raised his hand up to his nose. He wasn’t allergic to cat hairs, but his nose was quite sensitive to the touch. 

At last, his breath caught.

“Hhh–hh’Tscht!” He pinched the first sneeze off behind his fingers. It was refined and quiet, yet it did not relieve him from the tickle that plagued his nose. Before he had time to think, his nose protested once again, and suddenly once became six times.

“Heh-’Tcht! –eH’Tcht! N–tchtt! ‘Tch! ‘Tch! ‘tchhh!” Zayne wasn’t going to stop anytime soon if he didn’t release his nose to expel the cat fur, but habits kept him from doing so. “ahH–...s-so tickly..s-stuhHh’tcht!! ehH’Tcht! S-stupid cat f-fur’TCHT! ehH–’Tcht!” 

Each sneeze–albeit quite–harshly jerked his body and shook more cat fur into the air.

“Sh-hiH-iHt’Tgxt’ch! ah–Tchtt! hihH–heh’Tchht!” 

His body repeatedly betrayed him as his nose gave in to the itch–even as he fought to suppress them. Somewhere in the midst, he heard his door unlock. ‘Oh no, they’re here already. How long hahH– has it b-been?’ With all the commotion from his nose he had forgotten you were coming over. 

Soon, he heard the sound of your feet headed in his direction.

“Zayne? Are you… wh-what happened to you?” You tried to cover up your amusement by coughing to hide your laughter. Zayne tried his best to glare at you through his bleary eyes.

“T-too muhh’Tchh! hehH’TChh! Toomuchcatfur ahH–’TChh!!!” He stuttered out through the sneezes. “Hehh…I-I can’t s-stohH–p…”.

“Do you maybe think, you should, perhaps, take your hand off your nose? Stop stifling mayhaps? Or would you rather forever trap those tickly–”

“hehH–eH’DTZsh’iiihh!!” Even the mere word tickly made his nose burst. At least he finally let himself release the sneezes freely, “ahEhH’DZSH–iihhh!! eHEH’DSZHIew! heh’DZSH–IIHH–…hhh..”.

You clicked your tongue in feigned disappointment, “Kitty Zayne choking on his own fur?”

His ears flattened as he sniffled the mess back, rosy cheeks gave away his embarrassment. You gave him a cheeky smile as you pulled some tissues out of your back pocket. You held them out, nudging them towards his face as he still glared (lovingly) at you.

“This is n-not amuHh…amusing…hh…hH’iHhh–’Tschhh!” He sneezed again and hastily grabbed for the tissues. He blew his nose harshly in an attempt to evict any stray cat fur left in his nose. 

“Well, I found it quite amusing,” You giggled as you plopped down on the floor right in front of him, “though you had me worried for a moment there when you wouldn’t open your door or respond to your phone.”

He looked back at you above the tissues as he examined the expression on your face. A look of both amusement and relief. 

“I did…not mean to worry you. Apologies, my dear,” He sighed, his lips twitched into a small smile. 

“It’s no worries! The scene I walked into made up for it. Imagine, me walking in, worried, just to find you sitting on the floor, sneezing your head off, surrounded by a cloud of your own fur–”

“OhH–no wh–y–heH’TSCHHH! eH’Tschh! eH’Tch! ‘tch–’tch–’tch…heh…haHh–e’Tschhhh! Why did you have to mention it again?” He once again blew his nose into the tissues. Though they were quite wet by now. You threw your head back, cackling.

“I’m sorry, Zayne!! I didn’t realize you were so suggestible!” Regardless of his embarrassment, your laughter was still music to his ears. 

“Mhm…what will I ever do with you, hm?” He let out an amused sigh. 

“Why don’t we settle onto the couch instead of going out today? Now seems like a perfect time for an afternoon nap, yeah?” You beamed as you reached to scratch his ears. Miraculously, your hand made it to his ears before he could stop you. He let out a small pur, which in turn caused his cheeks to turn a deeper shade of red.

“S-sounds good to me,” he finally replied after he let you scritch behind his ears. You knew he enjoyed that spot. You hummed happily and helped him up from the floor. Zayne followed without protest, unable to stop the small purrs that escaped his throat.

Moments later, the two of you were nestled together on his plush sofa. Zayne’s breaths were slow and steady, though a faint sniffle escaped him now and then. The sneezing had finally eased, leaving his little cat-self drowsy. His tail curled lazily over your legs and with each soft exhale, his ears would give a tiny flick. He was the first to doze off, with you not too far behind.

[chlotual]

im fr considering dropping out of school after this sem i cant take this shit anymore man