#looking back at my responses here - yeah i'm all over the place with my fandoms lol

[blackidyll]

I was tagged by the lovely @saint--claire for this! (❁´◡`❁)

3 Ships I have so many ships that I can mention, so I'll just do one each for three arbitrary categories.

1) Ship I'm reading: IceMav from the Top Gun movies. I mentioned this before, but I needed both movies to fall in love with this pairing so hard. Like if I watched the movies individually I would be interested but not this much - but throw in the fact that they canonically have 30+ years of history and TGM made it very clear that their bond has gotten even stronger over the years *chef's kiss*. Rivals to wingmen! Ice as Mav's guardian angel! Mav was the only one Ice trusted to teach the kids so they could all come back home alive! Mav pounding his wings onto Ice's coffin!!! The angst from Ice's canonical death adds a sort of realistic bittersweetness that makes the ship somehow more appealing to me. But also, because real life is depressing enough as it is, I'm happily rolling in OG!TG wingmen era fics and found family MavDad/IcePops and Dagger kids AUs forever.

2) Ship I've written: Halfdain from Genshin Impact. I like a lot of Genshin characters and relationships (both romantic and familial), but Halfdain was the one that broke my two-year pandemic lockdown writer's block. Halfdan literally appears onscreen for like three minutes, but his loyalty to Dainsleif! He followed Dainsleif's final command for 500 years! He remembered and recognized Dain even when his memories should have completely eroded away! He believed in Dain so much. And Dain! How he recognized Halfdan even in his shadowy husk state! The way his eyes flickered and he smiled the gentlest smile for Halfdan! The hand clasp in the flashback, and the Black Serpent salute! Halfdan's fate is also what inspired me so much - I was so distraught at the fact that Halfdan dies and they couldn't be together despite everything they've been through, I broke my own writer's block to fix things. Tragic endings what? I WILL FIX THEM WITH FIC. This is probably the rarest pairing I ship (<50 works on AO3), but I love them so much.

3) Free choice: 00Q from the Daniel Craig James Bond films. So, I've kind of stopped writing for them. However, I see a pattern with my current ships and like.. I haven't actually watched No Time To Die, but I know what happens to Bond. And going by my track record, I'll either write my own fix-it fic or I'll look for all the fix-it fics. And that's why I still haven't watched NTTD: 1) i'm not quite ready for things to end, and 2) I don't want to risk switching hyperfixations, so I'm procrastinating on it. But 00Q will always have a special place in my heart, both for how long I was actively in the fandom for, and for how much I grew as a writer writing for them.

First Ship I'm probably aging myself right here, but considering the timing of when I got into fandom it's either Yuki Sohma/Tohru Honda from Fruits Basket or KakaIru from Naruto.

Last movie Enola Holmes 2. I enjoyed it!

Last song Hoyoverse just dropped The Stellar Moments Vol 3 album and I've been listening to it while writing this. My favourites are Chapter of a New Era (Yunjin's theme), Storm Chaser (Heizou's theme), Evening Luxury (Diluc and Fischl's outfit teaser) and Surasthana Fantasia (Nahida's theme).

Currently reading Uhhhh.. I have far too many fic tabs opened, but two IceMav fics that I'm actively following are As Lions by @qin-ling (Time travel fic! The angst of Mav's now unreturnable original timeline and his Ice's death, but also hope in the form of getting to save Goose and befriending '86 Ice again!) and ICE - In Case of Emergencies by @derpinathebrave (post-breakup IceMav where Ice gets called as Mav's emergency contact after an accident. The title is already excellent but also the writing is impeccable).

Also I have a ton of Sandman fics opened before my brain took a sharp dive into TG fandom, so here's a fic I was halfway through: We have all the time in the world (a great exploration of Dreamling throughout their once-a-century-meet ups, where Dream is slightly more in-tuned to his feelings for Hob).

Currently watching I just finished watching Season 3 of Mob Psycho 100. I (surprisingly) did not cry at the ending but the moment 99 (the season 1 OP) played in the final episode? Oo, good chills, it was so excellently done.

Currently consuming All the Chinese New Year snacks. Actually, I can't eat most snacks yet because we're saving them for 初一 . But you know what you can't save for too long? Mandarin oranges. So many mandarin oranges. This is the best season for mandarin orange lovers :D

Currently craving Milk tea (not boba. Just tea and milk variants, no tapioca pearls or other toppings).

Tagging @qserasera, @no-gorms, @solowinged, @kamicom (welcome back!), but only if you feel up to it. And if anyone else would like to pick this up, please feel free!

[bad268]

Can you do like a YouTube challenge video with Kimi Antonelli. He doesn’t have enough fics

Stream Starting... (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Youtuber! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 2/3

Requested: Clearly (also while I have shit lined up every week through March, I'm back to work so actually writing will be slow lol)

Warnings: none

Pronouns: You/your

W.C. 1331

Summary: Q&A stream with Kimi

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

“Hello everybody,” you greeted to the camera only to be interrupted by laughing coming from your right side. Your fans had been begging for a video with Kimi for as long as you could remember, so with a little help of begging (definitely not guilt-tripping), you were able to convince him to join you for a live stream. You turned your attention away from the rapidly moving chat to face the person you called yours as you joked, “Can you not, K?”

‘I’m sorry!” He defended as he leaned onto your shoulder with a smile. You could see a faint blush rise onto his cheeks even though he tried his best to hide in your shoulder. “You’re in your element. It’s one thing to hear you from outside the recording room, but it’s another thing to be in here with you while you do it.”

“Now, you know how I feel every time I go with you to a race,” You responded, moving your hand up to twirl some of his curls between your fingers. You moved some of his hair away from his forehead as you gently placed a kiss to the crown of his head before leaning your head against his. “It’s your natural habitat, and I love seeing you in the zone before a race. It’s cute.”

“Is there a reason this is moving faster now?” He asked, pointing at the live chat. You completely forgot that you were still live, entirely wrapped up in your own little world with just you and Kimi. Your wide eyes gave you away, honestly. Kimi looked up at you and began laughing at your expression before moving to sit up, just settling for holding your hand. “I assume that’s something to do with the stream?”

“Yeah, that’s chat,” you explained after getting over the initial shock of forgetting you were live. “It’s in real-time. Well, like a 20-second delay, but it’s about as close to real-time as I can get it.” You pointed out a few more small features of the steam before directing your attention back to the camera. “Anyway, now that we’ve gotten past the brief delay, I can tell you what we’re doing! If you can read, you can read the title of this stream, and if you can’t read, no problem! We are painting portraits of each other while answering your questions!”

“You did not tell me we were painting,” Kimi groaned. “I’m not creative enough for that.”

“Oh, trust me,” you laughed in response, “we’re finger painting, so they’ll both look bad!”

“Oh, great,” he chuckled as he jokingly rolled his eyes before helping you set up the tarp, paints, and canvases. He laid them out so that everything was facing each other as you adjusted the camera, so you would both be in the frame and you would see the questions easily. “Does this meet your standards?”

“You say that like I am some perfectionist,” you mumbled as you took your seat in front of Kimi. You both started your portraits of each other, so you would have a base before moving into the questions. “Okay, first question, ‘why do you stay with me?’ Ouch.”

“Your fans suck,” he laughed. “You’re everything to me, that’s why.”

“Ah, you’re a sap, ti amo (I love you),” you giggled as you looked for another question. “Oh, this one’s fun, ‘how did you meet?’ Well, I moved to Italy when I was really young and we met at boarding school.”

“No, you are forgetting a key detail, amore (love),” Kimi chastised as he shook his red-colored finger at you with a smile. “You ran into me on your way to class and spilled your coffee all over both of us!”

“Hey! You said you would never mention that!” You gasped as your gaze snapped up to meet his. In mock offense, you took a little bit of the paint that was in your palm and planted it on his cheek, laughing at his shocked expression.

“You’re going to regret that,” he jokingly threatened.

“Oh, will I?” You teased back, almost challenging him. You did not think he would do much. Maybe put paint on your face in a similar manner, but you did not expect him to literally throw a glob of paint straight at your face. Your jaw dropped as you wiped away some of the paint, unsure whether to laugh or be upset, but the smile on his face made you laugh along with him. “Oh, so that’s how this is?”

“You started it, let’s not forget that,” Kimi tried to defend as he put his hands up in mock defense. “I was just making it even.”

“So if I tried to kiss you now, what would you do?” You asked, leaning over your canvas to get closer to him. Kimi seemed confused at first but still moved forward to meet you halfway. When he was close enough, you smeared the leftover paint that you had wiped off your face across his. “There. Now we’re even.”

“I am gonna get you back for this,” Kimi chuckled lowly, “Just wait for it.”

“Anyway, moving on,” you pressed, switching topics as you looked back at the chat before going back to the portrait of Kimi, “Are we always this chaotic?”

“Yes, next question,” Kimi responded immediately, not even looking up from his canvas.

“Thought so,” you said to yourself as you looked through the messages, trying to find a good question. “Ooo, ‘are you both going to be at preseason testing?’ Obviously, he is, but I don’t think I have the attention span to sit around a race track for four hours a day.”

“Hey! You promised you would go with me this year!” Kimi whined. “You said you would drop everything to travel with me.”

“Four hours for three days straight in Bahrain does not sound that appealing to me,” you chucked as you shrugged your shoulders, still not meeting his eyes. “I’ll be there for the first race week, but I doubt I’ll be there for preseason testing.”

“I’ll buy you something,” Kimi offered. This piqued your interest as your head snapped up to meet his eyes as he laughed. “Merch, food, coffee, tea, games. You name it, and I’ll get it.”

“What if I want someone to hang out with?” You countered with a smirk.

“I will try my best. Who do you want?” Kimi asked, genuinely curious.

“Paul,” you laughed. “I need my Mamma Mia buddy!”

“Absolutely not!” Kimi shouted. “I am not subjecting myself to that torture again!”

“You would be in the car, Kimi!” You retorted as you pushed all of the art supplies to the side, so you could sit directly in front of Kimi and hold his hands. “You wouldn’t even have to hear our nonsense. We’d just be vibing.”

“How do I know you won’t talk Rene into putting you both on the radio?” Kimi asked genuinely as he gave you a pointed look, knowing that would be something you would do.

“You have my word,” you said, jokingly putting your hand up in a salute, “Scout’s honor!”

“It’s times like this that I really question why I’m with you,” Kimi admitted with a sigh as he whipped off his hands and pulled out his phone to text Paul.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you joked leaning over to leave a small kiss on his paint-covered cheek. “If I don’t keep you on your toes, I am not doing my job right!”

You turned your attention to the camera to wrap up the video as Kimi stepped out of the room to call, who you assumed was, Paul. “Anyways, that’s all for this for now. Guaranteed, we’ll do this again. Maybe with less of a paintball match, but yeah. We’ll post the final products on my Instagram later. Follow that if you don’t already, and I will see most of you in the next stream! Bye!”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[violetmuses]

Opposites Attract - A. Aretas (Part II) ❤️‍🩹

Title: Opposites Attract - A. Aretas (Part II) ❤️‍🩹

Fandom: “Bad Boys” Film Universe

Character: Armando Aretas

Pairing: Armando Aretas + Detective!Reader

Main Storyline: Working with the Miami Police Department, you meet criminal Armando Aretas for the very first time. @adoresmiles @nobodygetsza 🏷

Part I ❤️‍🩹

======

2024

“Where did she come from?” Armando Aretas revealed this question about you while facing Mike and standing in his brand-new portable cell.

This federal transport would send everyone back to Miami, Florida.

“Joined our department and she's been pretty quiet until this point.” Mike defended your work here. “Almost fought me before we visited you last time.”

“She swung?” Armando wouldn't laugh despite the joke.

“No, but she'll definitely kick some ass when provoked.” Despite noting Aretas, Mike turns your way regardless. “Just like you.”

Across this space, you closed your eyes while trying to sleep. Even Mike's longtime partner and best friend Marcus Burnett trailed the operation.

______

Once everyone returned to Miami safe and sound, you watched surveillance cameras as precinct staff observed Armando.

“What happens now?” You looked toward Mike and Marcus. “We can't keep Armando in the building all night.”

“Her place…” Marcus pointed near you without thinking twice.

“I'll smack right upside your peasy-ass head, Marcus!” Mike then scrunched up his face. “No.”

“If anyone's harboring a fugitive, it might as well be her.” Marcus brought you up once more.

“That's crazy.” Mike couldn't believe what's going on.

“I can't bring Armando near the house with my family and you don't want to scare Christine, either.” Marcus continued speaking.

Burnett even referred to Mike's wife Christine, a physical therapist. She also helped Mike heal throughout the shooting recovery years back.

“I'll do it. Just tell him.” You say, gathering your belongings to leave with Armando.

Here we go. You thought.

_____

No more restraints, but Armando still joined the backseat of this car that night and small luggage occupied your trunk.

“If she calls from any bullshit, you're dealing with me.” Mike handles the warning for Aretas and still protected you.

“Same rule applies.” Marcus also stepped up. “I made the suggestion, but don't make me knock you out. She's like family.”

“Back off.” Armando grumbled from his spot while sitting in your car. “I'm not stupid.”

“Open the back door right now and whoop his ass, Mike!” Marcus nearly erupted over Armando talking back.

“Stop arguing. Can I leave?!” You finally roll down the driver's seat window, pissed.

“Go.” Mike then lifted both hands to absolutely surrender, watching your car exit.

_____

Organizing essentials at home, you straightened up the guest room while Armando waited.

“Everything's set up whenever you're ready.” You find Aretas looking downstairs, mainly focused on pictures.

You loved ones gathered different snapshots around the living room. Even Mike and Marcus invited special moments through photographs.

“Oh, hey. Thanks.” Armando realizes your presence.

“Of course, but I have a question.” You look near Aretas.

“Sure.” He waited again.

“Before Mike cut us off, what did you plan to say at the prison?” You seemed curious.

“I wanted your phone number.” Aretas flirted right back.

“No chance.” You scoffed. “By tomorrow, Mike should come back here and you'll be gone.”

“Fair enough. Good night.” Armando dropped this conversation and headed upstairs, leaving you.

_______

The next day, you're kind enough to make breakfast and share that kitchen table with Armando.

“Mike just texted me. Everything's packed?” You cleaned up this space.

“Yeah. Thank you.” Armando clipped the response once more and didn't talk much otherwise.

“You're welcome. See you around.” You at least bid farewell. Aretas would still join AMMO sooner than later.

Heading outside, you watch Mike's classic Porsche roll up.

“Good. Armando didn't burn your shit down last night.” Mike jokes with you when leaving the car.

“Don't kill each other.” You kept squinting through the Florida heat.

“Sin promesas, cariño.” Armando pulled his native language of Spanish.

“Hey!” Mike gasped upon realization. Even you cracked up watching both men bicker when the Porsche left your home.

Father and son indeed.

[cycat-carisi]

Take From Me My Lace

Pairing: Hetty x Trevor

Summary: Trevor learns about Hetty's most well-kept secret. (Takes place sometime before "Holes Are Bad".)

Tags/warnings: Spoilers for CBS Ghosts 3x08 "Holes Are Bad", some pg content, (implied) suicide.

Words: 1026

A/N: Heyyo! I'm new around here *waves frantically* I've been watching the show casually for 2 seasons. A rerun of the episode where Pete meets his grandkid SOLD me hard, and then the whole Tretty/H-Money affair started up, and I was a total goner, lol.

After watching "Holes Are Bad" I'm on the side that's convinced that Trevor knew. The look on his face, I think, is more sympathetic as if he's sad on her behalf that she had to reveal her secret, and not even on her own time. And when the other ghosts talk to Trevor afterwards, it feels like he's covering up what he knew.

So yeah, long story short, all of that inspired this little fic thing. I have not read any other fics in this fandom yet, but needed to get this out in the world to help kick off my full-blown obsession 😁🫶🏼

AO3: link (or below the cut!)

The pulse point just beneath her jawline.

He would never admit it out loud, but that was Trevor's favourite place to kiss Hetty. He loved that spot because his tender touch would send her eyes fluttering shut amidst hushed moans.

At first Hetty was apprehensive when Trevor's lips would trail close to the intricate neckline of her dress. Yet, as their relationship progressed, Hetty allowed Trevor to explore more and more of the places she had never let anyone else reach.

Still, most nights she would redirect Trevor's affections when his lips strayed even a little too far down towards the lacy seam. Trevor initially wrote off the abrupt change simply as Hetty's insatiable passion taking over, until one night he finally learned the truth.

"Mmm, Trevor," Hetty sighs, her voice heavy with sleep. Limbs tangled with hers, Trevor continues his ministrations, enjoying the feel of her soft murmurs echoing under his lips. "Ready for round two, are we?" quips the Victorian woman as she rouses from her slumber.

"Just lemme make you feel good instead," Trevor insists as he finds the spot beneath Hetty's ear that makes her keen.

She instantly gives in when his hand trails up the front of her corset, arriving to cradle her face. His thumb rubs delicately along the apple of her cheek while Trevor leans overtop his lover to place a languid kiss to her plush lips.

Hetty arches into the kiss, groaning when Trevor begins to trail his lips down to her pulse point. One of her hands grips his shoulder while the other seeks purchase in his styled hair. "Don't stop," she whispers when Trevor suckles lightly on the tender flesh beneath her jawline. And who is he to say no?

Trevor moves his lips inch by tantalizing inch along her neck, pausing to nip and lave his tongue over her ivory skin. He works further down towards the delicate lacework, and this time, without realization, Hetty tilts her head back to grant her lover greater access.

With her fiery red tresses pressed into the pillow, Trevor takes advantage, soothing her features with his thumb and slowly navigating his fingertips underneath the lace.

He feels it at the same time that she does.

Hetty's bright eyes fly open. She recoils, panic surging through her as she scoots herself up towards the headboard.

Trevor pulls back, startled; concern is written all over his face. "Hetty," he speaks gently. "What was that?"

The Victorian woman's vision turns glassy. She has kept her secret for so long, and now she has slipped up. She could lie. She could run. She could get angry at her pantless, horny lover. But she knows that none of those options would be fair. She is just as responsible for their affair as he is, and she concedes that this moment was ultimately inevitable.

Hetty swallows hard; fear and something akin to defeat are etched deep into her features.

Trevor leans in cautiously, his hand coming to rest reassuringly upon her clothed thigh. He sits patiently, waiting for her to be ready to speak.

"Ohh hoo," she exhales shakily, shifting to sit up further. His dark eyes never leave hers as she does. Except instead of speaking, Hetty simply reaches upwards, and her nimble fingers work to roll down the lacy fabric.

Trevor's brows pinch, and his heart sinks when the bruises and golden cord come into view.

Hetty scrunches her eyes closed, bracing herself for judgement–for Trevor to draw back in disgust. Instead, a soft voice engulfs her. "Oh, darling, I'm so sorry."

What Hetty sees when she opens her eyes is a handsome face laden with tenderness. There is no aversion, only warmth. And so, Hetty Woodstone, for the first time in the 120 years since her death, confesses the truth surrounding that fateful day.

Trevor listens attentively as the headstrong woman he is familiar with suddenly becomes so vulnerable, revealing her shame and deepest regrets. And as he takes in her words, Trevor feels privileged that Hetty–his Hetty–trusts him enough to bear her soul to him in this way.

Trevor allows her to speak until she has said all that she needs to. And somehow, Hetty finds her hands in his–an anchor to keep her from drifting away.

"Thank you, Trevor," she concludes, voice low and crestfallen. "Thank you for listening."

"You don't have to thank me, Hetty," Trevor soothes. "I just wish you had told me sooner so I could’ve been here for you."

Hetty gazes deeply into Trevor's eyes. Details leading up to his own death had been a secretive topic for the man who hides his compassion beneath a frat-boy persona. Hetty came to understand that part of him, and now Trevor is privy to a similar part of her. "You are here now, and that is more than I could ask for," she replies with a small smile.

Trevor nods, bringing the back of her hand up to his lips.

"Just… please don't let on you know." Hetty whispers, her eyes brimming with the desperation of her plea.

Trevor gives her hands a gentle squeeze. "Your secret is safe with me."

The pair's gazes fix as they drink one another in. The moment is raw, unveiling, and somehow deeply intimate.

Hetty's eyes fall to Trevor's lips. She begins to tilt her body toward his when Trevor decides to break the silence. He wants to hold her, wants to whisper sweet nothings in her ear, and to kiss away the pain she has locked deep inside herself. Instead, he murmurs, "Does it still hurt?"

Hetty feels Trevor’s breath tickle her lips. She pauses for a moment before answering solemnly. "A dull ache that never truly leaves."

Hetty nods, and Trevor slowly closes the distance between them. His nose grazes against her jawline before warm lips softly meet the bruises encircling her neck. Trevor's movements are gentle; there is no lust, only affection, and something that borders on the line of love.

Trevor draws nearer. "May I?" He asks, eyelashes flickering as he drags his gaze between her collar and the ocean swirls of her irises.

Feedback is loved 🥰

[composeregg]

wanted to join in on that meta post by saying yeah, even if we view joker’s and akechi’s relationship as special compared to the others, akechi is still written under the constraints of p5, and an antagonist to boot. like. vanilla had his confidant as automatic bc (iirc) they thought they couldn’t fit it in properly! which is crazy, even tho the automatic rank ups have an interesting implication (such as, akechi will always be rank 10 by the end no matter what you do). i understand that ppl probably wanted someone to talk sense into the thieves for their unwittingly callous actions, but not by the guy who decided to go thru with his 11/20 plan lol

(this post)

YEAH like, I love Akechi. I adore him. But I have SO many OPINIONS about this mans. like. I'm not going berate anyone for how they write characters, that's the freedom of fandom, but I am going to stand over here with my opinions and contrary thoughts and chitchat about them in my space

I know that very often it is because people want someone to refute what canon has shown us (because canon's writing disagrees with it's desired goals as mentioned in that post). They want someone to go "Look at Joker, look at what's happened to him, don't you care? How risky this was?"

But okay I'm actually going to back up a bit!

(this got long)

What other choice was there for 11/20?

Because the answer is not "they could have taken Akechi in a fight."

The goals of the interrogation room/metaverse plan:

Escape with Joker alive

Trick Shido and the conspiracy into believing Joker has died

and you know? you know? you cannot do that latter bullet point if you just beat up Akechi

So enlighten me. How, exactly, were the thieves supposed to come up with a different plan in under 20 days? One where Joker would live, where the conspiracy would believe he had died, and importantly, one that at that point in time cannot count on Akechi being a turncoat. They have no reason to trust that he would

"Don't you care about how risky this was? There had to have been other ways."

We don't get Shido's name as Akechi's employer here until after the phonecall reporting the death, I believe. They cannot change Shido's heart in time to avert this because they do not have the information. The interrogation room plan, genuinely, was one of the smartest ideas they had. It accomplished exactly what they needed to. These are teens in a life-or-death situation, who notoriously have MANY trust issues with adults for good reason, especially since society is so corrupt that a hitman can easily walk into a police department and assassinate a high-profile criminal and get away with it with help (remember the guard at the door?) The other options are basically "change your identity and flee the country" or "literally actually die" lets be real here!

SO

Akechi, let's be honest with ourselves here, would primarily be pissed off that the thieves got one over on him! And if he is concerned about the lasting trauma of it all, or how risky the plan was, he is seeing this and approaching it from the angle of knowing it worked.

(Better options for sense-talking: Sojiro! Sojiro is right there! Takemi! Iwai! Kawakami! Yoshida! All important responsible adult figures to Joker and at least some of the thieves.)

In my opinion if Akechi wants to snark at the thieves about the plan in any way regarding how much it fucks up Joker and how it was risky, they are more than allowed to fire back shots at him for making it necessary and shooting Joker in the head in the first place.

I think people often use it as a shorthand, to show that Akechi cares about Joker, but also as a way to emphasize the importance of Akechi to Joker (compared to the rest of the thieves). It's easier to ignore the fact that he killed two of the thieves's parents when it comes to Joker being in a relationship with him, as long as it can be shown that he's the one that really cares. That he wouldn't put Joker through something so fucked up with his care (hilarious, laughable, he shot Joker in the head). It separates "Akechi and Joker" from all the phantom thieves in a way.

(Honestly sometimes it feels like ship bashing/character bashing but for ALL the phantom thieves with how intensely some people write it! beyond even the point of exploring Atlus fucking up characterization to pretend to have a blank slate silent protag)

BUT like I said in the post, it also points out a major flaw with convincing players that the rest of the thieves DO care in the game. Because the thieves are never really given a chance to show that. It's implied, and it's clear the game wants you to believe they care, but we don't get scenes addressing specific stuff like this enough.

Joker is confident, and cocky, we see that with that bastard smile in the interrogation room after getting "shot" in those cutscenes. It is genuinely a plan to be proud of, and it hails back to his original persona being Arsène. Arsène, who escaped from prison simply by disguising himself and pretending he had already escaped and put a body double in his place. Arsène, who pulled off a robbery while in jail. Arrogant and self-assured and cocky, the interrogation room plan is genuinely something the likes that would be worthy of Arsène's name.

He can be proud of the plan, and also traumatized by it. But he actively agreed to this plan, probably helped come up with it (where does everyone get the idea that it was Makoto's plan? genuine question). Joker is not a hapless victim of other's whims, he also had agency. So many of the parallels between Joker and Akechi are how they exercise what agency they have while being stripped of traditional power and victimized by society.

Honestly? Honestly? In my personal opinion, having Akechi berate the thieves for the plan is disrespectful to his rivalry with Joker, along with his own characterization.

He holds Joker as his equal. Equal in agency, in skill. If he looks at Joker and says, "why would you go along with such a foolish plan?" if he looks at the thieves and says "why would you ever put your precious leader through this?" he is taking away Joker's agency and choices. One of Akechi's focal points is agency. If he sees Joker as equal in this, and he denies Joker his agency, he is also taking it away from himself.

Akechi's cocktail of emotions regarding the assassination can manifest in so many different ways, and he can translate that to anger at the thieves rather than himself for putting Joker through that, but that would be his emotions regarding himself being misdirected more than anything.

Akechi has too much respect for Joker to deny Joker his agency in a plan that was good enough to fool him.

Respecting agency and admiring a brilliantly crafted plan also doesn't mean ignoring trauma that ocurred from actions taken under duress.

(At least, it doesn't mean that as long as you're not Atlus)

[yuseirra]

I went out for a walk and it helped me organize my thoughts, let me be bold about my theories/assumptions because I CAN and it's a now or never thing till it's proven wrong. But when I write these, I am confident to a degree. I get worried later, but I feel sure when I write them.

I believe Kamiki lied to Aqua to save him the pain of feeling sorry for him, the way Ai was very harsh when she left him.

Also, I believe Ai picked the right guy to love. This guy has a really tender soul. Or at least used to be, I think. He's very gentle in nature. Uh huh, he'd have been really good with their kids if he had the chance to raise them, him and Ai would have made a sweet family the way Ai pictured it to be. This guy's polite and sweet. Let me explain, okay?

I looked back at those segments in 154 when there's a flashback of Ai leaving Kamiki and Kamiki talking about Ryosuke, and the way things are laid out looks really similar to each other. I'd say it actually looks like parallels to each other. The sides of their faces appearing(and we don't see their eyes) and then their backs turned at the viewer. When expressions are concealed like these, you can't read what the characters are actually feeling. And this comic has really powerful expressions that are very on point and let the reader "understand" and feel what the characters are going through.

that entire page where Kamiki talks to Aqua about having wanted to scare Ai? I think 80% of it would be all lies. The only part that I believe is the actual truth would be that he did give Ryosuke the address and he didn't know that he'd kill her, but that's probably something that's slipped out by mistake. The explanation he brings up for having done such an action is utterly ridiculous and dumb. There are so many ways to "make someone despair", and needless to mention that it's so wrong and terrible to do, its also not something that's guaranteed to work, nor is it practical in the first place. It's an action that has really low probability to achieve the said desirable effect. That's why I keep making speculations about this, it does not make sense. I bet most of the fandom would have felt the same way about what he's said as well, saying stuff like: "How could he have never seen it coming?" Yeah, right?? I think he isn't responsible for this happening to begin with. Any person with a sane mind would feel this way, and he doesn't seem that insane. I think Nino could be irrational to some extent but not this guy!!! That's why I'm convinced that it wasn't this guy who could have done this, but Nino after she's been thrown into the picture.

Kamiki would know what he's saying doesn't make quite a lot of sense himself. He's a fully-grown adult!! Over 30 now, and he should know enough to realize what he's talking about. He's just trying to push through because he's been used to lying for other people's behalf and he's pretty confident that he can fool people, the way he used to be ever since he was so little.

What he's saying is just a flat-out lie to save his son from feeling the slightest amount of guilt for having to socially kill his own dad. I think so. Him and Ai are a liar couple. Ai lied and made it really harsh, I think, in order to save her boyfriend from feeling too terrible about the breakup, she wanted him to hate her for it and move on from her quickly and save himself. What Kamiki's doing here's similar. He doesn't want someone he cares about (he does care about his children btw, gonna discuss about this later) to have any remorse or concern over him. He'd feel better if his children just plain wants him dead, that's his way of loving them, the way Ai was for him.

Aqua's reaction towards Kamiki's ridiculous claim is so blank and unmoved, he should have been ANGRY, grabbed him by the collar, scold him, make inquiries, but Aqua just moves on to ask if Kamiki believed Ai's words. And then we see Kamiki's face with eyes, in acceptance, saying he did, continuing to say "everything Ai's said is the norm." That's a totally different approach to the claims he's made earlier, it contradicts it, because just a second ago he claims he wanted to have Ai feel the same despair as him and scare her for having claimed she can't love him, but then, he says what she's said (the fact that she can't love him) is understandable and right. Those two reactions, I believe, can't be simultaneously established at the same time. What he says later is how he truly feels about the situation. He just plain accepted that he was never loved. It wasn't something so surprising for him.

I said this in another post yesterday but he's as much as a liar as Ai is, they both constantly smile to pretend they're all right.

That smile he floats is consistent through the entire time he's shown in the story and the only times it breaks is when it has to do with Ai and when she sees him through. And it starts to break the moment he sees her talking about him. Every expression he makes when he sees Ai in the video are his true feelings. His smiles, on the other hand, are his coping mechanism and are all masks.

If you see his behavior patterns, Kamiki smiles when he's in distress, that's his way of coping when something he can't fully comprehend happens. He cries as he smiles as he seeked for Ai's help in a flashback in 153, and he tries to float a smile when Ai says she's going to leave him. And the way he responds to these tough situations, when he faces them, are... soft. He tries to calm himself down and inquires Ai "Why.. is that so?" and his reactions after that too.. are very far from aggressive. He was always far from being so during the times we actually see him do things.

I don't know how his way of speech is in Japanese, but I have a feeling he'd be the type that speaks in a very polite way. When him and Ai meet for the first time, I think he used honorifics to her and attached a -san to her name? He was pretty polite when he talks to Yura, too, and I mentioned this once but he EVEN ADDS A -KUN AND -SAN TO TRASH LIKE RYOSUKE AND AN ABUSER LIKE AIRI. The guy killed the love of his life and the woman.. I don't even want to bring up what she did to him, he has all the right to show signs of bitter hatred towards them, but.. he doesn't... This attitude of his is also consistent of how he was as a child. As a little boy, he was mistreated but he tried to endure it thinking 'but they're happy'. I don't think that part about him has changed so much. He finds it really hard to hate on people, even when it can be justified. That's why, I don't think he would have harnessed any hatred towards Ai. He didn't even do that to Ryosuke and Airi!!! They're terrible people!!! If he can't do that to those scumbags of individuals, would he to Ai?? Would he?? There are people who are selfish and are strong towards the weak and weak towards the strong but I don't think that would apply to his case. Nope, I don't think Kamiki originally has it in him to harm ANYONE at all.

I wholeheartedly see why Ai really wanted to protect him. He's just so.. vulnerable and maybe even too kind for his own good. Ai has a lot of protective instinct and she's really caring towards others in the ways she could. Seeing a guy like this.. would have really made her wish 'oh, I really want to help him.' AND that's exactly what she does!!! She's even left a message to her kids about this!! Help this guy with me, she says.

Continuing on with the polite and kind bit, this characteristic of him is ACTUALLY THERE in his interactions with his children. He didn't get to be with them, but I think he was happy he got a chance to approach and talk to them, he probably wants to give them their mother back with everything he's got from what I'm guessing. I think he may have just wanted to pet Ruby's head that one time his eye sparkled white and smiled. He could have been a proud dad, he praises his kids every time he meets them, says they're pretty, they made a good movie, congratulates them, says they shine. He understands Aqua's character and pays attention to Ruby when her career soars.

It's similar to how Ai was really proud of her children and wanted to spend more time with them but couldn't. I feel they would have been loving parents if they had raised their children together. It's just as how Ai's pictured it. She knows what kind of guy her boyfriend is. She's the person who'd understand him the most out of anyone, ever in the world and she wanted to be with him while being aware of it. He says he is willing to give his life for her, he STATES that as a quote. So, she did find someone who's pretty good! The guy had sweet nature, is good with kids, also had good looks(she had to mention that as she left lol.. that too is also what hurt him though, she knew exactly which strings to pull to render him speechless), doesn't have that much aggressive tendencies, is polite, a good actor, shares a similar past and could relate really well to her,

he did suffer a lot and that made him a bit insecure but he genuinely loved her and she did too, and if things brightened up a bit.. if he could have been lifted of those burdens he had..they really could have had a future together. The important thing here is that HE is the one she wants. Ai is very serious about love, and she's intelligent, I feel. She figures what's good for her and she gets what she wants. And she wanted to be with him. I don't think her being with him would be concluded as a mistake. There's been so many horrible things that were thrown to the both of them but, they were both essentially good people who found each other and wanted to love. I want the story to end with that sentiment. The more I try to analyze the guy, I feel he may not been that bad... he actually seems to be a pretty tender person inside. If only they could have been happy... idk how, but maybe they can still, you know? Because as they say in the first chapter, this story is fiction, but most fiction has a happy ending. Also, what I could infer from the movie arc when that was brought up again was that "love" isn't fiction. It's something very real that can't be brushed off as fake. Kamiki knows Ai's always loved him now, and he'll try to do something from his end. Love goes both ways and theirs will too, in the very end.

[captainsophiestark]

Type A

Caroline Forbes x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries

Day 29 Prompt: "That's all? Easy."

Summary: Caroline is a little overwhelmed by the amount of things that need to happen to open the Salvatore Boarding School for its first year of operation, but her SO is there to help her through.

Word Count: 1,056

Category: Fluff

A/N: Disclaimer, I haven't seen Legacies

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Oh. My. God."

I poked my head into the living room cautiously at the sound of my girlfriend's voice. I recognized her tone as the 'something has gone disastrously wrong and I'm about to have a meltdown' tone. I'd run to the kitchen to get coffee for both of us, and apparently in that short amount of time we'd encountered a new problem. To be fair, worse things had definitely happened in less time to us before.

"Babe?" I asked, taking a few more steps into the room. Caroline Forbes, my girlfriend and the love of my life, looked up at me, clipboard in hand and distress written all over her face. "What happened?"

"Ugh, the Salvatores happened!" she cried, throwing her hands up in the air. "I'm pretty sure they spent the past hundred years compelling anybody involved with this house, and now that new people are responsible for billing things like electric, water, gas, and whatever else you can think of, I have to deal with them all at once! And that's not even mentioning the home inspectors. And I still have to organize all the heirlooms they left laying around, just waiting to be broken. Or the fact that not a single bedroom in this place looks remotely like something a kid would enjoy living in-"

"Caroline." I'd set down our coffee mugs and now held up my hands as I slowly approached my girlfriend, stopping her spiral before it could go any further. "Take a breath, babe."

"Take a breath?" she cried, her voice actually going up an octave. "I still have to make decisions about our first class, find teachers, figure out curriculum, make sure the house is actually safe, and a thousand other things before we can open our doors, which we're supposed to be doing at the end of the summer?"

"Pft. That's all? Easy."

Caroline scoffed, her eyes practically glowing as a murderous expression spread across her face. If I didn't know her so well, I might've been worried for my safety. Instead, I closed the rest of the remaining distance between us, putting my hands on her shoulders and looking her right in the eye.

"Listen to me, right now. You are Caroline Motherfucking Forbes. You do event planning in your sleep, and I know that's a true statement, because I've heard it. This shit is right up your alley! Yeah, it's gonna be a challenge, and a lot of vampires with lazy habits are going to make it harder. But you love challenges! I've quite literally never seen you happier than when you're taking charge in the middle of chaos and pulling it all together. And we went to Paris for your birthday."

Caroline huffed and rolled her eyes, but I caught her smiling anyway. I grinned back at her, giving her shoulders a gentle shake.

"You are a force of nature, and there is literally no future where you don't pull this off. I'm not a witch, but I know it doesn't exist. Besides, you're not doing any of it alone. I'm here with you, and so are our friends. We're gonna help you every step of the way to get this school up and running. And we're gonna help you when a kid inevitably breaks some precious historic heirloom, and one of them brings home a curse from touching something they should've left alone, and every other situation you can possibly think of. We'll be here for you to lean on."

Caroline smiled. She took a deep breath, then pursed her lips and nodded, more determined than frazzled now.

"You're right. I am Caroline Forbes, and no centuries-long problem the Salvatores refused to deal with is going to get the best of me."

"Damn right."

She laughed a little, then leaned in to kiss me. We broke apart fairly quickly, since we did have quite a few things left to do, but it was enough to have a warm glow working its way through my chest.

I turned to retrieve our coffee mugs, offering Caroline's to her. Thankfully, they were still warm, and she took hers with one hand, picking up a clipboard with the other. Her eyes scanned the page for a few minutes with a critical eye. I just sipped my coffee and waited, knowing I'd need all the energy I could muster for whatever was about to come next.

"Okay... the bills are easy enough to deal with, so I'll get online and set up autopay for that. In the mean time, you're on heirloom duty. Find anything we don't want in the line of fire for kids practicing their supernatural abilities and put it in the attic."

"Yes ma'am," I said, saluting. Caroline rolled her eyes with a smile.

We started off to do our tasks, but I stopped short before leaving the room. Caroline was already buried in a task, but I took the risk of interrupting her.

"Care?"

"Hm?"

"If we get this done today... any chance we can play interior decorator for our task tomorrow?"

"Sure!" She turned around with a bright smile, a slight edge to it that I recognized and that made me immediately nervous. "And then we can deep clean all the other parts of this house that haven't been touched in years."

I groaned. "Do we have to? Can't we hire a cleaning company to deal with that?"

"Not when vampire speed will get it done at least twice as fast."

"But Caroline, there might be spiders." She crossed her arms, and I realized I was not going to win this fight. I sighed dramatically, turning to go back to the task I'd originally been on my way to do. "Fine, but if I see a spider, I'm screaming and I'm making you deal with it."

"You're an immortal vampire with super speed and super strength!"

"Yeah, and I still hate spiders!"

Her laughter echoed in the room and hallway behind me, and I smiled to myself. I loved that crazy blonde tornado of a girl, and although I complained sometimes and would continue to do so, I'd also follow her to the ends of the earth with a smile.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[stars-n-spice]

So, this is it, huh?

I figured the least I could do was write something down before shit goes down because I know after tomorrow I don't think I'll be emotionally available to do or say much about the show and what it and the fanbase means to me.

The last few days, my mind has been a whirlwind of emotions and I don't think I've ever really suspended my disbelief since it was announced that this would be the last season.

I felt like Po honestly, in Kung Fu Panda 2, when he's like "But I just got Kung Fu!" when they're talking about Lord Shen making that weapon that straight-up kills people who practice Kung Fu (I'm going somewhere with this just bear with me-) because I'm fairly new to the animated shows of Star Wars fandom and didn't start hyperfixating on Bad Batch until midway through Season 2 while those episodes were still releasing.

So when they announced that the 3rd season was the final season I was devastated. "What do you mean no more Bad Batch? I just got Bad Batch!" - I didn't want to believe it.

But here we are. Final season. Final episode.

I can't describe how the obsession started. It just did.

When the first season was coming out, I was still on Season 6 of TCW, so I got into it a little late. Then when it was over I immediately jumped into watching Rebels and became utterly obsessed with that show while Bad Batch just stayed, "Oh, neat show I watched."

Then the second season came out. I don't know how or when or why but suddenly something just went off in my brain and I became obsessed. I became attached. I fell in love with Wrecker in a way that I've never once felt or experienced towards any other fictional character, or person for that matter. I grew to understand Crosshair on a deeper level that made my heart ache for him and made me reflect on my own past and choices. Echo became a comfort character and an anchor in my life in where he's the first thing I think of when I'm down to put myself in a better mood. Suddenly I was ready to give Omega the universe and everything good in it. Tech became a lifelife (ironically) a hope that despite how I am and who I am, I'm capable of loving and being loved. And recently I've become so incredibly attached to Hunter because as the oldest child of five as well, I know that crushing weight of responsibility. Of failing your siblings. Of trying to be better.

This squad. This family. Cheesy as it is, I can't describe what they mean to me but Force, I'll try.

Recently I've been wondering why I'm so attached to this show and these characters. Jokingly, part of it is yes, the Bad Batch are lovely to look at and that does play a role in why I enjoy watching the show so much, but that's not completely it.

I think I speak for a lot of us fans when I say that I didn't fit in as a kid. I still don't even as an 'adult.' Look, I'm a biracial guy from two VERY different cultures that don't feel like home to me. On top of that, half of the time I don't know how to identify myself in gender and sexuality because I don't feel either most of the time. I'm introverted. I have anxiety. I probably have autism. I'm a burnt-out former gifted kid. I quite simply don't fit in.

"No, I'll stay. You guys don't fit in here either."

That? Yeah.

This show is for all those kids. Everyone who never fit in. Everyone who was told they were strange or weird, for the kids who ate glue in the back of the classroom, who were told they were too loud, who were put down because they didn't express emotion a certain way, for the kids who sat alone at lunch, who got left behind in their friend groups, for the kids who felt like they had no one so turned to harmful things, for the kids who were told they were special only to be discarded later in life, for the kids who don't know their place, don't know where they fit in and if they even do or ever will.

It's a show that tells those kids you're more than that. You're worth it. You're worth loving. You're worth protecting. You're worth the second chance. You're worth being loyal to. You're worth teaching. You're worth forgiving. You're worth it. You're worth it. You're worth it.

In the end there's hope for us. There's hope for all of us. And I think that's why I cling to tightly to this show. Why it means so much to me. Why I so desperately need these characters to make it out alive.

It's what Star Wars was from the start. About hope. About family. About loving and being loved and learning to love despite your circumstances. It's a show that took a bunch of neurodivergent absolute daddies and packed in so much angst but also feel-good moments with stunning animation, beautiful, moving music, and phenomenal voice acting. It's a show I can't help but love and love immensely because it feels like it was written for me.

For that kid who spent their recesses with their nose buried in an animal encyclopedia or talking to imaginary characters from their favorite books. For that kid who always felt so utterly useless and hopeless whenever they got less than an A- for a grade because they were supposed to be the gifted one. For the kid who struggled so much to be the older sibling they never asked to be. For the kid who just wants to find someone, anyone, who will love them as they are and fight for them. For the kid who valued loyalty above all else, always has, always will, and never gets it in return. For the kid who never fit in.

And well, whatever happens in the finale, I'm so grateful, so blessed, and so honored to have been a part of this journey with all of you.

[cycleoffates]

Just found you here after searching Pumpkin Panic (again). You see, I found that demo back in 2014-2016 and I feel like it made a huge impact on what my art aesthetic preferences are because your artsyle is super colorful and the game really gave me candy and Halloween vibes! So once I a while I search official art you have posted about it. Whether you come back to making games or not I wanted to thank you for creating that demo and showing your spooky ocs. Hope you have a nice day!

hello!!! thank you so much for sending me this message. apologies if my response has been somewhat late, Tumblr's a place I hardly check and free time isn't something I have as much as I used to. 🥲 sorry if this is gonna be a long response too! i didn't intend it to be but I'm feeling somewhat sentimental.

even if i've pretty much been radio silent all over the place, this message has been something I've been constantly thinking about for a while. well, this one and a few that have been left on one of my videos. 🥹 (I'm posting them rq bc they bring me joy)

Pumpkin⭐Panic (yeah, with the star bc i found out there's another game called that now) has always been very near and dear to my heart. i made that demo when I was still a kid in high-school w/ a lot of ambitions. the idea for it was very impulsive, bc it started out as me making a gift for my followers on Halloween. i have no idea how I managed to create a demo for it in under a month (I have no clue how I was able to do it back then 💀).

talking about and posting OC stuff has always made me shy bc I wasn't sure how people would perceive it (or rather, my original, non-fandom creations), but it warms my heart to know it's been (and is still) loved by a lot of ppl who remember it to this day, even if it's very old. not to mention, it's very outdated, littered with bugs and was made on a (now defunct) laptop with a broken audio jack (hence why the audio is so loud (LOL)). making a game by yourself is harder than it looks!!!

it's been......... maybe 10+ years now? i think since it's initial creation. wow. typing that out makes me feel OLD. during all that, I put out another game demo and tried to write visual novels, but none of them were finished/saw the light, either. I'm somewhat ashamed of that too. i wanted to make more stories, but I just found myself lacking the time and the motivation (Tumblr was dying, I started working towards a college degree, you get the gist).

at that point, i stopped posting OC content as much (bc you know, social media engagement with fandoms and commissions gets you clicks!). i kept all those to myself (granted I didn't have a lot to begin with LOL) and only shared them with close friends. sometimes i'd post something on the bird-app, but it wasn't constant.

and then few years ago, a couple things happened to me (for the worse?). it opened my eyes and made me realize how impacted I (as a person) and my creations (as extensions of me) were by others who I shared personal connections with (through relating w/my characters). those things changed my life and made me anxious about talking about them again with others. i got scared. it was bad.

from then on, i shifted my gear towards making a lot of money as I could from commissions. flash forward to the beginning of last year, I had my "icarus-flew-too-close-to-the-sun" moment.................... yeah, burnout is NOT fun.

but at the same time, during those years of making bank and struggling, I was able to connect with someone again who made me love talking about my OCs again. i started roleplaying w/OCs again, I started writing and drawing OCs again. granted, they're not the same ones as before, but they're still my characters, and I want to share their stories with the world (someday). yeah okay, this is veering away from Pumpkin⭐Panic so i'm pulling the reins back on it again.

thank you again (from the bottom of my heart) for sending me this ask. this probably wasn't??? the answer you were expecting, but it made me feel something so HAVE AT IT. 🥹 I have attempted to create some semblances of art for a Pumpkin⭐Panic "reboot" but never got far, so it's most likely I won't be picking the game demo project back up. maybe I'll post them here if I remember to?

i've been thinking about giving the main game some closure at least. an artist I follow did something where when they decided to quit their webcomic, they posted the scripts/concept art/etc of said webcomic so fans can look at it. i think that's something I might try and do, if people are interested.

i also had plans for a prequel game (visual novel written conceptual draft)......... that? that's something I'm still thinking of doing one day, mostly because I have a new OC project now (not PP! related) that I want to bring to life but have no idea on the direction I want to go with. a friend told me that maybe trying to do an experimental visual novel with the prequel (of PP!) might help me get a feel for where I want to go for said new story. it doesn't have a proper name that I'm happy with, but............

i just think these goobers deserve that finished, at least.

thank you one again for your ask, sorry if it was sooooo long-winded, and i hope you have a wonderful day as well! <3

[deskgirl]

Fandom: Our Flag Means Death Rating: General Main Characters: Wee John, Izzy Hands Setting: Post-season 2, "nobody dies/everybody lives" timeline

For the Izzy and Crew Event, a slice of life piece. I'm posting this here for now, but I'll upload to AO3 eventually.

Excerpt:

“What the fuck’s a leisure activity?” the man asked, growing more confused and frustrated.

“Stuff you like doing. Like having fancy drinks and blowing stuff up just for fun and telling people to fuck off when they’re wasting your time.” Wee John paused for emphasis, holding his drink aloft. “So fuck off.”

~

Sharing a Drink

~

A rum bottle flew across the crowded bar and shattered. Someone flung a chair in response. The gift of a thrown chair was clearly not appreciated as it was returned with equal force. A pistol went off, smoke pluming up from a third table totally uninvolved in the dispute but clearly annoyed by the disturbance. Rather than settling things, though, this only encouraged more thrown objects in more directions, a fair number of them sharp and pointy. This was generally ignored by everyone else in the bar as they were too busy getting drunk or cheating at cards.

Standard fare for a “den of iniquity,” as Stede liked to call these pirate-friendly dives. Or was it den of antiquity? Something like that. This particular den of inebriety had become the crew’s new favorite tavern until Jackie could get herself reestablished. In a lot of places, the beer was shit, but the bar here served decent stuff, barely watered down at all. The atmosphere was kind of bougie, but the prices weren’t bad and you hardly ever had to step over a dead body on your way to the outhouse. 

Wee John relaxed on a bench seat tucked against the wall, resting his back as he guarded the drinks the crew had left with him before scattering to the wind. John’s corner table provided a nice vantage point to watch the doors and his friends as they got up to their usual shenanigans. 

Frenchie and the Swede were doing something by the dice tables that would probably get them kicked out before the night was over, Jim was coaching a nervously laughing Oluwande through a game of darts against Archie and Zheng, and he thought he saw Lucius and Black Pete necking in the shadows by the coat rack. Zheng’s scary aunt had been here a minute ago, but John saw her slip out through the kitchen and knew better than to ask questions. 

“Whoa, look at you!” 

Wee John glanced sidelong at the man who’d staggered up to his table. He was about average as far as pirates went: a smattering of piercings, tasteful battle scar here and there, bit of gunpowder under the nails, short beard that needed a proper trim and oil, and a dusty leather jacket over what was probably the only shirt the man had to his name.

The unwanted visitor was also clearly deep in his cups, judging by his gaping expression and faint swaying. 

“Yer a big bastard,” the man continued. 

“That so?” Wee John asked as if it were news to him.

The other man paused, perplexed. “Yeah, mate.”

“You should see my brother. There’s a reason everyone calls me Wee John,” Wee John said, going back to sipping his drink. It was a fancy little thing in a narrow glass, orangey pink with a curl of grapefruit peel on top. He’d been feeling fancy when they all came in here riding high on their last raid, and nothing said fancy like a garnish. 

“I bet,” the other pirate laughed, dropping his hands to the table heavily. The crew’s drinks rattled and sloshed. “Let’s see what you can do, yeah? Arm wrestle, what’cha say?”

“No thanks. It’s my day off.”

“Your what?”

“My day off,” Wee John explained. “It’s like a mini vacation.”

“What’s a vacation?” 

“It’s a day when you don’t work. You’re supposed to do leisure activities.”

“What the fuck’s a leisure activity?” the man asked, growing more confused and frustrated.

“Stuff you like doing. Like having fancy drinks and blowing stuff up just for fun and telling people to fuck off when they’re wasting your time.” Wee John paused for emphasis, holding his drink aloft. “So fuck off.”

“You–!” The other man reared back, teeth bared, then lunged at Wee John. John distantly hoped that he’d come around the table instead of vaulting it. It’d be a real dick move if he knocked over everyone’s drinks. 

Suddenly the man went very still, his body hunched forward, arms out and shoulders stiff, all of his forward momentum halted by the feather-light touch of a blade at his throat. 

“I know you’re not fucking with my crew,” a familiar voice rasped from behind the drunk man. Izzy Hands stepped to the side and tilted his head so the unfortunate bastard could have a better look at who’d gotten the jump on him.

The drunk pirate’s eyes widened comically. “You’re…”

Izzy let the man flounder for a moment, clearly enjoying the recognition. “I am.” He eyed the other man up and down, taking his time, then sucked his teeth as if disappointed. God but he was a dramatic little shit. Wee John found it rather endearing now that it was being directed at someone else. 

“I didn’t know he was with you, Mr. Hands, I swear,” the man said. He still hadn’t moved and neither had Izzy’s knife. 

“That’s unfortunate,” Izzy said with a dash of fake sympathy. There was a long pause where John had the satisfaction of watching a fat drop of sweat roll down the man’s temple and into his beard. Then Izzy sniffed and slowly drew the blade away. “Luckily for you, I’m in an unusually good mood. Now, take my man Mr. Feeney’s advice and fuck off before I change my mind.” When the man continued to stand there, he made a shooing gesture with his knife.

As if an invisible cord had been cut, the man backpedaled wildly, bumped into someone behind him who spilled their beer and started swearing, then spun and ran off.

Izzy held himself tall for a moment longer before slowly deflating, leaning his hip against the table for support. Wee John recognized the signs of fatigue. The little man had pushed himself hard yesterday during the raid. Probably made himself sore the same as Wee John had with his back. 

“Hey,” Wee John called. When Izzy looked over, he patted the spot on the bench to his left.

Izzy hesitated before carefully shifting his weight and coming around the table. He startled when Wee John took hold of his elbow but didn’t protest the help as he eased himself down onto the bench. 

“Drink?” Wee John asked.

“You offering?” 

Wee John waved a hand at the table. “Crew’s offering.”

Izzy snorted softly as he perused the selection of abandoned drinks. After a bit of thought, he went for the half-tankard of ale. 

“Whose is this?” Izzy asked idly. He gave it a sniff before tipping it back to take a drink, not waiting for Wee John’s reply first.

“Archie’s,” Wee John said. “You know, I coulda handled that guy.”

“I know,” Izzy reassured as he wiped at the corners of his mouth with his thumb. “But like you said, it’s your day off. You’re not getting paid to work off the books so don’t bother.”

“That how you’re gonna play it?” Wee John gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You could just admit you like us, you stubborn little fucker.”

“I could also just jump in the bay.” 

Wee John chuckled. 

“Anyways, don’t act like I’ve done you any real favor.” Izzy gestured with his newly acquired tankard. 

When Wee John looked, he could see the drunk bastard who’d run off now sat at a table near the door and speaking heatedly to another man. He looked somewhat better kempt, with a long, red coat and dark hair tied at the nape of his neck. He was flanked by two bruisers who seemed intent on the conversation as well. 

“That’ll be his captain,” Wee John guessed. “They’re gonna jump us when we leave the bar.”

Izzy hummed in agreement.

“Should we tell the others? Leave out the back?”

Izzy eyed what was left in the tankard before throwing it back. He let out a satisfied sigh. “No need to ruin the crew’s fun. What’s a vacation without a bit of bloodshed?” 

“I don’t think you know what a vacation is.”

“Nope,” Izzy agreed. “No pass me that drink with the lime wedge in it.”

[fiona-fififi]

I guess you're not in agreement that Buddie is happening this season?

Uh, I'm not sure where you're getting this idea from? I haven't said anything of the sort. I do still think we're on our way to buddie this season.

If this is in response to me not really being into the promo and unsure about the season, that's two-fold.

First, this fandom has been awful to be a part of for months. I've had to block half the fandom, and now that I've actually got my dash chiseled down, no one's actually interacting with me anymore (with the exception of a very small few—literally four—beloved long time mutuals). Not to mention, I'm afraid to post a single opinion at this point, because it somehow always seems to lead to bullshit lately. Which all together, isn't a great way to feel engaged in fandom, and if I'm not feeling engaged with the fandom, I'm much less likely to feel excited about a show, regardless of the status of my ship. That might change if (when) it happens, but right now, I have very little excitement for anything to come.

Second, frankly, last season was largely a disaster after 7x06. They did not finish strong. It was all over the place. There were issues with pacing and with storylines. Nothing felt properly developed. And yeah, 10 episode season, but then it's on the show and writers to make those 10 episodes work. Just cramming as much bullshit into those 10 episodes as possible didn't do it for me. Nothing had room to grow. It was just drama after drama after drama, often in ways that sidelined mains and took the story too far off with one character (I love Bobby, I do, but a THIRD begins episode for him in a freaking 10 episode season that had a three part opener was NOT the way). Not to mention the blatantly racist storylines that served no real purpose (comparing a black child to a dog? really? and for no damn reason because Hen and Karen are smart enough to have worked out that their foster child was traumatized without that questionable storyline).

And now, here we are, going into a season where they can't seem to decide how they're promoting the bee emergency—is it silly or is it super serious?—where they've brought back one of their most despised characters (who should have been long fired and certainly not put back in the same house where two firefighters who filed grievances against him still work), seemingly to sideline those very characters in service of Buck's storyline, which I don't find to be a great look.

By the end of last season, I felt like I was watching Lone Star 2.0 instead of og, and everything I hear about the new season feels like we're about to step into the exact same thing. Soap opera drama for drama's sake.

And if they were still successfully balancing character and storyline development alongside that, then I would probably feel differently. And maybe I will when it happens. Because maybe it really was just a problem with the shortened season.

But there is a reason I never really got into Lone Star, and if that's the direction og is heading, then no ship is going to save it for me.

I love buddie, I do. I also do still think it's happening.

But I don't watch 911 exclusively for a ship, and if the story doesn't work for me, buddie isn't going to entice me to stay.

[starstruckkittensweets]

decisions

Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

fandom: bungo stray dogs

New year, new format, same old Star? I guess only time will tell. Anyway, here's my silly little self dabbling in a new fandom to get myself out of my writer's block. Blame BSD for being my current obsession, and for keeping me up way past my bedtime just to finish this lil fic just in time for new year's. Please be kind, I'm trying to get back into the swing of things! Also I haven't been able to get my mind off of Chuuya for like the last few weeks, send help pls I'm very concerned, it's currently 3:30am and I'm very sleep-deprived haha dividers made by @/hitobaby

warnings: mentions of drinking/alcohol consumption, reader has a history with Chuuya (he's responsible for bringing her into the mafia in the first place), reader is a little sad with complicated feelings on new year's eve, Chuuya may or may not be ooc and I'm sorry if he is, this fic is totally not self-indulgent in the slightest, idk what you guys are talking about || words: 2.3k

Fifteen minutes to go. 

The air is chilly against your cheeks, the thin jacket over your shoulders barely doing anything to keep out the cold. Even with the buttons fastened all the way up to your neck and a scarf wrapped over your face twice, you’re still freezing your ass off. Oh well, better out here than in there. 

You’ve never seen the Port Mafia headquarters look so lively. You blame Elise—well, Mori specifically for feeding into her wishes to throw such an extravagant party in the first place. The first two hours were fun, but you decided to tap out once you saw the familiar red hue splashed across Higuchi’s cheeks. As much as you enjoy her company, the last thing you want to do is watch her make a fool out of herself in front of Akutagawa. (Who’s also getting a little tipsy himself, and it’s quite uncomfortable to watch.) 

Besides, it’s too loud and rowdy for your liking. So instead you’re leaning against the wall outside, your second bottle of cider clutched in your hands, secretly wishing the skirt of your dress was just a tiny bit longer. 

You glance at your watch and grimace. Fourteen minutes left. 

Fuck. 

“Party ain’t good enough for you, huh?” 

You jolt at the familiar voice; your cheeks are flushed, but you know better than to blame the drink in your hand. Seems that Chuuya just has that effect on you. 

You shrug your shoulders, gazing down at the pavement as he makes his way down the entrance steps. “It’s fine, just a little…crazy, I guess? It’s quieter out here.” 

“Cold as hell, though.” 

“Yeah…” 

An uneasy silence settles over the two of you. You clear your throat and swallow another mouthful of your drink. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other against the wall beside you, careful not to scuff up the fabric of his fancy blue overcoat. Never one to pass up dressing a bit nice for a party or banquet, huh? 

He hums, taking a sip from his wine glass (of course he brought it out with him). You’re about to open your mouth before he raises an eyebrow, sending a scathing look at the choice of drink in your hands. 

“…You still drinking that shit?” 

You roll your eyes with a huff, “Well, we can’t all have your stellar taste in alcohol.” 

Not your fault he has a thing for fancy wines that cost more than your entire wardrobe at home. You prefer something a little more comfortable, and sometimes a simple bottle of hard cider is more than enough to get the job done. 

He shakes his head, but you can see the ghost of a smile on his lips (or maybe the alcohol’s making you see things already). “You’d think with all the time we’ve spent together, your taste in drinks would improve.” 

“As if.” You nudge your elbow into his arm before taking another swig. “Don’t try to take me away from my cider.” 

Your head is a bit fuzzy, but no amount of alcohol seems to warm you up. You fold your arms across your chest, careful not to spill your drink down the front of your coat. It would be just like you to go and make a fool of yourself in front of your superior like that. 

Eleven minutes to go. 

“…What’s on your mind?” 

Damn it, he must’ve seen you looking at your watch. You swallow hard, tracing your thumb around the rim of your bottle. And suddenly all the words you wanna say vanish on the tip of your tongue. 

So you just don’t answer. A few more moments pass in silence before he tips his head back against the wall, a heavy sigh filling the air around you. 

“Come on, you gotta be drinking out here alone for a reason. So what is it, huh?” His eyes are sharp when he finally glances at you. “Someone upset you in there, or what?” 

“Huh—no, nothing like that—” 

At least, nothing any of your coworkers said. They’re not at fault for your sour mood; the only one you have to blame is yourself. 

Oh well, you’re already a bit drunk. You already have a list of things you’ll regret tomorrow morning. What’s the harm in adding just one more? 

“I just…I don’t see the point in celebrating new years anymore…” 

You cringe the moment the words leave your lips. Way to go, dumbass. He definitely won’t think you’re trying to be edgy just to impress him. Not in the slightest. 

Eh, you’ve already made a fool out of yourself. Might as well go all the way, right? Rip the bandaid off now while you can. 

“It’s like, well, for the last few years they’ve just kinda…blended together? They’re repetitive and everyone makes a big deal out of them, and I don’t really get it anymore. Yeah, it was fun when we were kids, but now? I just gotta look forward to another year of being the same person I was the last twelve months. It’s fun for the first few days, but then everything reverts right back to the way it was. Nothing changes permanently, y’know?” 

Fuck me, it’s not like he’s your therapist! He doesn’t need to hear this shit! Shut your mouth while you still have a chance! 

But he doesn’t stop you—not that your mouth would know when to quit, anyways. 

“Dunno, maybe I’m just being a downer about it. It’s been like that for a while, though, not just because of new year’s… Higuchi says it’s because I haven’t even been kissed—because that’s supposed to make everything better, apparently. New Year’s kiss and all—it’s stupid, right?” 

Not that you ever believed her about that bullshit. Totally not. And that weird fluttering feeling in your chest right now? You’ve had too much to drink. Not that you’ll stop any time soon. 

The silence in the air is killing you, and you’re just about to down the rest of your drink in one gulp when you hear a soft snicker beside you. Chuuya shakes his head, smirking at you over the rim of his glass. 

“Sour mood just because you’ve never had a new year’s kiss?” 

“S-shut up! You know what I mean!” 

“Yeah,” he mumbles, his voice softer than before, “I think I do.” 

He sinks himself down to the ground, the tails of his coat acting as a barrier between him and the freezing pavement. Setting his glass down he pats the space next to him, and it’s almost embarrassing how quick you are to follow his lead. Even when you’re all bundled up in your coat and scarf, your body curled into itself, you only start to feel warm when you’re pressed against his side. 

And he seems to notice, because he drapes an arm over your shoulder to pull you in close. It’s not the first time he’s done this, but it still makes you feel antsy all the same. 

“Another year in paradise, eh?” 

You raise your bottle to meet his glass halfway, the soft clink sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Maybe it won’t be so bad this time around.” 

At least, that’s what you tell yourself every year. Maybe it’ll be okay this time. Maybe things will work out. Maybe this year, you won’t see yourself as a complete and utter failure. Despite your accomplishments and contributions to the mafia, maybe you’ll start seeing yourself as something more than a lowly criminal. 

Instead of the same simple girl he picked up from the streets all those years ago. 

The two of you finish your drinks, with only the buzzing of the voices inside breaking the silence between you. It’s getting closer to midnight, only five more minutes to go. You place your bottle down at your side with a clang, wincing when you start to feel a pang in your temple. And one look at Chuuya tells you his own drink is finally catching up to him; he grimaces and tilts his head back, his cheeks flushed red from the frigid air around you. 

“We’re both gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow, huh?” 

“Bet yours will be worse than mine,” he challenges with a smirk. 

But you can see the exhaustion in his eyes; he’s always been a lightweight, as long as you’ve known him. Too many times you’ve helped him home from a night at the bar, other times you’ve been right beside him, just as wasted as he was. Perhaps it’s not the ideal superior-underling relationship to have at work, but quality drinking buddies are hard to come by these days. 

And besides, there’s just something about seeing him in such a vulnerable state that makes you feel a certain way. No, it’s not just that—it’s knowing that he’s letting you see him in such a vulnerable state. That he trusts you enough to get him home safe, to not take advantage of him when he’s too far gone to even remember his own name. And knowing that he would do the exact same for you, and that trust is returned in full (and then some, if you’re being completely honest with yourself). 

Because no matter how hard you try to talk yourself out of it, or convince yourself otherwise, you’re still that same stupid girl from the slums with a soft spot for the man who saved her. 

You press yourself deeper into his side, smiling when you feel his arm tighten around your shoulders. Three minutes left of the year. The voices from inside are growing louder, more pronounced as the seconds tick by. You don’t pay them much mind, not when you’re already half asleep, cuddled up against your boss. 

How scandalous—maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll pass out before midnight and won’t wake up till noon the next day. 

“You don’t have to be the same person you are now, if you’re not happy with it.” His voice snaps you awake at once, and you don’t even have to look at him to know he’s staring in your direction. “If you think you’ll be happier as someone else, then be that person.” He scoffs lightly with a shrug of his shoulders. “As long as you’re satisfied, I don’t see a problem with that.” 

Your lips open and close, reminding yourself of a fish. Your throat runs dry, but you manage to force a few words out. 

“It’s not that I wanna be someone completely different… I like myself sometimes, and other days…” You hate yourself and the person you’ve become. “…But I don’t wanna lose the parts of me I like, you know? Sometimes I wanna change, but I also wanna just stay being me… Ah, never mind, I don’t even know what I’m saying.” You force out a laugh, hiding your face in your frozen hands. “I’m drunk, I know I am. See what happens when you let me drink so much?” 

Maybe it’s the alcohol making your tongue looser than it normally is. You’ve only had two bottles, but combined with the wintry air and Chuuya’s warmth beside you… You fear you’ve gone off the deep end by now. And there’s no way you’re crawling back out of it until you crash and burn…and hopefully not take anyone else with you. 

He rolls his eyes, but they’re softer than they were before. A pretty blue shade, almost sparkling in the bright moonlight. Ah, damn it, who are you kidding? They’ve always been pretty—he’s always been pretty… 

You can hear people chanting in the distance. Must be the final countdown of the night, huh? 

“Don’t worry your head over it,” he whispers, and he’s so close you can almost taste the wine on his breath. Warm and comforting, reminding you of a home you once carved out for yourself. “I think I get what you’re saying.” 

You don’t even bother looking down at your watch. You know just how much longer you have before the year is up. 

“Whatever you decide to do,” he says, and you can feel his gloved fingers lacing through your own, “whatever parts of yourself you decide to keep, I’ll still be on your side.” 

A chorus of cheers erupts from headquarters; shadows dance along the golden windows, illuminating the streamers and confetti and drunken patrons as they celebrate the brand new year. You swallow hard, your cheeks burning against the cold, unable to tear yourself away from those pretty blue eyes. 

But then his words sink in, really sink in, and suddenly you want to cry. But you can’t stop yourself from smiling, even as you feel the first line of tears prick at your lashes. 

“That…means a lot to me,” your voice is hoarse, but you manage to get the words out just in time. “Thank you so much, Chuuya, I could just—” 

Kiss you now, like the idiot I am. 

Oh, what the hell? The lines have already been blurred, what’s the harm in actually crossing them? Or maybe that’s just the alcohol talking again. 

But you know damn well that this is one drunken decision you will never regret, for as long as you live. 

“…This might sound really stupid, but can I kiss you?” 

Call yourself stupid for asking, but he’s just as stupid for nodding—and the two of you are wrapped in each other’s arms, lips pressed together with the roars of the crowd inside echoing in your ears. 

Who knows what the new year will bring? More of the same? A little bit of excitement? Only time will tell, you guess. You wonder how many parts of yourself you’ll start to shed, like a skin that’s grown far too tight for your liking. Or maybe you’ll fall in love with a few different parts, seeing them in a new way you’d never even thought of. 

At least you’re not alone in it, no matter what your decision is.

[scuttling]

Blackout

Fandom: 9-1-1 Pairings: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Original Female Character Word Count: 800 Tags: 18+ NSFW, I'm new here Summary: I'm back on my bullshit.

I'm writing a story about Buck and my original female character, who comes to work as a lieutenant at the 118. It's currently at 30k, and it was just going to be for me, but this blurb made me laugh and I wanted to post it. I hope someone else enjoys my Buck as much as I do :) Buck wakes with a start. It’s the kind of waking up that is so sudden, he can’t place the reason why right away, so he sits up and just kind of stares for a moment. In darkness, and silence. Until he gets it. 

“Blackout,” he breathes, noting the absence of the hum of the ceiling fan neither of them can sleep without, the lack of light from the kitchen overhead, because if he has to pee in the middle of the night he will fall down the stairs without it. She stirs beside him, reaches out a blind hand and pats at him until she makes firm contact with his arm. 

“What?” she mumbles, half asleep, and she rubs his bicep like she’s trying to comfort him, though she doesn’t yet know why. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he assures her, sliding back down under the covers, turning toward her. “Power just went out, woke me up.” 

She hums softly, like she’s content with his response, then reaches out for him, wraps an arm around his back and a leg around his hip. She’s sleep-warm, clearly comfortable, as she nestles her head beneath his chin, and he wants to sink back into sleep with her, but the silence is deafening. And he’s getting hard in his pajama bottoms. Both are difficult to ignore.

She opens her eyes a few moments later, though the cause is unknown to him; he can feel her eyelashes flutter against his skin. Buck clears his throat, pulls her closer—he’s not one to interrupt someone’s precious sleep, not even for sex—and rubs her back, trying to ignore the ache… until she slides a hand slowly down his stomach and, eventually, over his dick. 

“Mmmm,” she murmurs, and she’s pressed so close to him he can feel the vibration of it. He reciprocates with a low noise of his own, runs his hand up and down her body beneath the oversized t-shirt she wears, and when she moves her arm to his back again and guides him down against her, he goes willingly. Oh, so willingly.

All sex is good sex with his girl, but this dark-of-night, half-asleep thing really does it for him: the slow, unhurried pace, the soft moans, the heat of her body in their bed. They kiss lazily, her hands in his hair gentle and undemanding as he curls forward and thrusts deep inside her. 

“Baby,” he sighs against her cheek as she clings to him, hooking her ankles together at the small of his back; it’s not just the sappy, sleepy sex hormones, she is everything to him, and holding her close like this is his favorite thing, will always be among the best moments of his new life. 

“Eddie,” she says, and Buck furrows his eyebrows but doesn’t stop moving. 

“Eddie?” he says, and then he thinks, well yeah, of course she’d prefer Eddie, and then she laughs so hard she snorts and he pulls back to look at her face, at the oddity of her sudden change of mood.

“The phone, Buck—Eddie’s calling. It’s late, you should take it. Christopher could be sick,” she clarifies, and after a few slow blinks he makes sense of what she’s saying and he leans over to grab his phone off the nightstand, to swipe his finger over the screen. 

“Eddie?”

“Hey,” Eddie says, and he sounds calm, not frantic like he would be if something were wrong with himself or Christopher. “What are you doing?” 

Buck looks down at her, still beneath him, still holding him inside of her, and somehow avoids the obvious joke. She rolls her eyes like she can see him debating whether or not to make it. 

“Eddie, is everything okay?” he asks instead, and Eddie hums positively on the other end of the line. Buck can hear dishes clinking in the background, like he’s cleaning up the kitchen. 

He’s so confused. 

“Yeah man, it’s just… the power went out, and Christopher already went to bed, so I was bored. Figured I’d call and see what you guys were up to.” She covers her mouth to keep silent—she must be able to hear him on her end too, and though the three of them are close, they aren’t ‘share this type of information’ close. “Is it out over there too?” 

“Yeah, yeah… hey listen, Eddie, I was just finishing something up. Can I call you back in five?” he asks, and Eddie tells him no problem and they hang up the phone. Buck lets it fall onto the bed beside them. 

She runs her hands over his outstretched arms. 

“You’re going to finish me up in five?” she asks, her voice low, sexy, and he grins and leans in for a long, hot kiss. 

He finishes her up in four.

[icechippies]

The crossover you didn't ask for but are getting anyway!

Writing a DHMIS and TWOMP crossover has been on my list of things to do for a while now and this has been in my drafts for ages.

I'm not so certain about Red Guy's characterization and I didn't look at other fan characters because I looked at the DHMIS fandom once and saw some things I will never unsee (no offense to the fandom. I am glad you guys are having fun, it's just not for me)

Anyway, here you go:

He woke up in an uncomfortable plastic seat. One of many such seats occupying the area. There were other people around too, mostly sleeping uncomfortably in their own seats or watching the clock on the wall slowly tick the seconds away. A man with a teddy bear for a head snored in the seat next to him. Headache-inducing fluorescent lights buzzed in the ceiling louder than the flies that kept running into them with a repetitive tapping noise.

"Number 277,546?"

He looked down at the yellow card in his hand. It said 277,546.

"I think that's me."

The old lady behind the counter looked at him from behind glasses that sat too far forward on her nose.

"Give me your card." he handed it over and she punched a hole in it, adding one more small circle to the thousands of others that covered the ground like confetti and formed piles in the corner of the room.

"Go down the hall to the last door on your left. A member of the welcoming committee will help you fill out your paperwork."

"Oh, uh, ok, thanks." He wandered down the hall. His footsteps against the dirty carpet tiles were the only noise as the ticking of the clock faded away.

He had a complicated relationship with quiet. On one hand it was nice, certainly much better than loud, but he just couldn't relax when it was quiet. Quiet, without failure, always meant that something was about to happen, usually something bad. He much preferred something in between quiet and loud, like listening to his friends talk. It was far from stimulating conversation but they were rarely interrupted by anyone who might make things bad. All in all it was similar to his complicated relationship with dark.

He reached the end of the hallway and stepped into the open door way of the last office on the left.

There was a person facing away from him digging through a filing cabinet. They had long wavy black hair and a blue hoodie.

"Hello? Are you the welcoming committee person?"

The person in blue jumped a bit before pulling out a few papers and turning around with a big grin on their face.

"Hello and welcome to the void!"

They had a lot of eyes. He was fairly certain that most people didn't have more than two but this person had blinking white eyes covering their face and neck, even going down to the back of their hands. He was being looked at by all of them. Almost expectantly. Oh. He was supposed to respond.

"You have a lot of eyes." Wrong response.

Luckily the person was still smiling, "Thank you! My great great grandpa always said I had my mother's eyes. And my father's. And my grandparents', for that matter." they placed the papers on the desk and sat down, gesturing to the other chair, "go ahead and take a seat, I'll help you fill out these forms and then we can go find your new home. " they clicked their pen a few times before preparing to write on one of the papers. "My name is Argos. And yours is?"

"I'm- I'm not actually sure."

"Is that first name Not, middle name Actual-?"

"No, no. I don't know my name." now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure if he ever knew his name, or if he even had a name in the first place.

"You don't know your name?"

"I don't know, I'm just the big red guy I guess but that doesn't really work without the other two." He shifted in his chair awkwardly.

"I could put in a filler name for now and you could complete another form later to change it if you happen to remember your name or decide on a new one?"

"That works I suppose."

"How about I just put in first name Red, last name Guy?"

"Yeah, I like the sound of that, for now at least."

"Great! Now, the faster we get these forms done the faster I can show you to your new home."

"Just checking, there's not going to be any singing or anything?"

Argos furrowed his brows in confusion. "Not unless you turn on the radio or sometimes the television I guess. Why do you ask?"

"It's nothing." Red Guy made a mental note to never turn on the radio or the television, "let me see those forms."

[manyothermusingsofmine]

Library Spot || Drabble

Fandom: Xmen

Warnings: None. (it really fluffy tho)

Wordcount: 2410

Summary: Nothing better post-mission than to snuggle in some cosy hiding spot AN: Thanks Miranda, for reminding me that Four Seasons by Vivaldi exists. I should listen to it more while doodling myself. I can apparently either do soul crushing angst or very soft sugary sweet fluff and little in between. We're not going to argue the logistics of a Walkman playing classical music here I'm already annoyed its a Capitalized Word TM and Quicksilver has some kind of portable music system in Days Of Future Past which is set in what, 1976? I think? -checks- 1973 actually eh I was close. -------------------------------------

She wasn't in the danger room, in the kitchen, in the gym. Not in either of their rooms, and not on the roof either where Kurt now stood with his hands to his sides, thinking of where Miranda could be now that he had crossed off most of her usual spots. He didn't even need to check the waterfall; because that was a late resort hiding spot she only used when severely upset. Which was a mood that had thankfully not occurred in her for quite a while now. Looking over to the usual spot in the garden where she liked to hide out as well, he saw she also wasn't there.

"Well, I'm starting to run out of options.... Right," he muttered to himself, shifting his weight a little as he thought out loud to himself, "I'm Miranda, an introvert in need of time by myself to charge my social battery. If I'm not in my usual hiding spots, where am I?"

He thought for a while until his brain offered one more idea of where she could be, to which he raised an eyebrow. Well, if she wasn't there, he had truly no idea where she would be. Poofing over to the library in the mansion, he looked around until he saw a sliver of wine red between some bookshelves, all the way off into a corner. He teleported over once more as he finally found her. She had burrowed away in the corner furthest away from the door to the library, comfortably nestled in a big bean bag with her legs crossed as the foot on her elevated leg lightly moved along to the music she was listening to on a Walkman. A few art supplies were on a small stool next to her, and she was happily scribbling away on the paper that she had on the clipboard in her lap.

As soon as he appeared, she looked up at him, pushing the headphones off and pausing her music

"Oh, hey, I didn't realise you'd be back so soon or I would've met you outside."

"It's okay; I just wanted to check where you are. Now that I know, I can go if you-"

"Kurt, stay. Please."

He gave a soft smile to her, gesturing at her to sit back down as she made an attempt to leave the bean bag. Because for starters the big bag didn't seem in any hurry to let go of its current occupant, and Kurt had teleported himself in between various objects and people before.

She gave a light squeak as he tossed her up enough to really settle in between her and the semi chair, taking her place in the surprisingly comfortable and warm bean bag while wrapping his arms around her as she was now in his lap, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"What’cha doing?"

"Drawing," she muttered in response, as she leaned a bit further back into his embrace. An embrace she would spend forever in if she only realistically could, "mostly flowers and birds, right now, I don't know, I just felt like doodling. Hey, uhm... This is going to sound stupid-"

"I don't think anything you say is going to sound stupid to me."

"Y-Yeah, well, uhm," her cheeks slowly turned a little red. He might not think it was stupid, but she still felt like she was about to make a very odd request, "can you... wrap your tail around me?"

He blinked just once at it, but silently obliged, gently and loosely wrapping his tail around her lower waist as per her request. Well, she hadn't actually specified where, but that seemed to be the most logical choice, right?

"Like that?" he got a small nod as a reply, "Hm. May I ask why?"

"Dunno," she said as she shrugged, "it just makes me feel protected. Safe. For some reason. Sorry if that doesn't make sense."

Letting her change the position of her arms so she could continue her drawing, Kurt pressed a gentle little kiss to Miranda's shoulder before settling back into his previous pose; he was actually feeling quite comfortable like this.

"Don't apologize. I'm glad it makes you feel safe. What where you listening too, anyway?" and without waiting for an answer he took the headphones, putting one of the soft pads to his ear while yanking the Walkman close enough to press play and listening to the music for a little bit, "Huh. Vivaldi, really?"

"Mh. I like listening to classical when I draw. It's great to keep in the background. But Vivaldi has nothing on you, honestly."

"Huh?"

"Your purr."

Feeling his cheeks burn with heat, Kurt set the Walkman aside with a slight huff. He wasn't. He didn't. Did he? If he did he had never noticed it himself before. Leaning back onto her shoulder, he pouted.

"I don't purr. ... Do I?"

"You do. You're doing it right now," she countered with a soft laugh as she could very clearly hear the light, happy rumble coming from low in his chest, "only happens when you're really comfortable, so I'll take it as a compliment. And... I like it. It's soothing."

"Great; I'm not beating the cat allegations any time soon then."

"You're the best kind of cat in that case: a very snuggly one," Miranda said as another laugh escaped her, turning just enough to him to press a kiss to his cheek before turning her attention back to the drawing she was working on; one of a little hummingbird. She felt the blush on her face blossom further, the comfort from the hug warming her to her core, "... but, seriously.. I don't think I've ever been hugged this much in my life. And, uhm... k-keep doing it? I think I have a lot of not hugging and not cuddling to make up for."

He smiled, slowly tightening his grip on her ever so slightly. That was a request he was all too happy to fulfil; there was little he loved more than cuddling with someone he cared about. And if it helped her in any way he was only too happy to provide the physical affection she had apparently been missing out on for so long.

He liked the way she fit into his arms, anyway, the way she leaned into his embrace now when she definitely had felt more stiff and unsure before- which made sense, he supposed, if she wasn't that familiar with affection like this.

"People compare you to a cat a lot too."

"An obnoxious stray one that won't leave after she's been fed."

"You're not obnoxious," he protested immediately, poking her in her side to which she gave a soft squeak of protest, "You're cute."

"You.... really think so?" she asked quietly after a bit, removing the paper from her clipboard before adding another one and starting a new sketch. Kurt just nodded, softly kissing her shoulder again, "... I think you're cute too."

They sat there together, hidden away from prying eyes with the only sounds between them being the light scratching of her pencil on the paper and his soft purring as he rested his head against the back of her shoulder. His eyes opened the moment the pencil stopped making sound, but fluttered shut again when he realised she was just switching it for an ink pen and an eraser.

"What do you think?" she asked after a little while, causing him to open his eyes again as she held the clipboard up for him to easily see what she had been working on, "and... be honest. Because I don't think I got it quite right."

"It's me," he said with a little grin, "it looks great, Süßer. As long as people can tell what it's supposed to be, you're doing great. How long have you been drawing for?"

"About a decade, on and off. Kind of wish I was further along than I am, but... I'm not doing this for competition or as work; it's just the best way to get out of my head."

Setting the clipboard aside, she stirred in his arms. He released his grip so she could adjust and change how she wanted, to which she turned to her side and rested her head to his chest with a slight calm sigh. He looked up for a moment when he thought he heard a sound, but there wasn't anyone else in the library currently.

Made sense, most of the people in the mansion were occupied with other things. The only one he could feasibly imagine entering anytime soon was Hank, and if that did happen Kurt doubted Hank would care to notice they were there; Beast was often far too wrapped up in his work and study to really pay mind to his surroundings.

"You've... got anywhere to be?"

"Nowhere I'd rather be, if thats what you're asking. Rogue is reporting our mission findings to Scott, she doesn't need my help with that. She told me so herself, that it would be fine and that I should just get some rest."

And he wasn't the only one in need of some rest it seemed. Whether it was from the comfort of his embrace, that she hadn't slept enough last night, or a bit of both; she was struggling to keep her eyes open. Readjusting his arms around her to a comfortable easy grip, Kurt gently ran his hand over her arm to soothe her further.

"And it seems like I'm not the only one," he laughed as she yawned almost on cue. She hummed softly in agreement, shutting her eyes not so much to truly fall asleep as to just rest her mind and body a little.

The door to the library was opened, glowing yellow eyes immediately looking over as Kurt was ready to get them both out of there depending on who was entering- his alert instantly subsiding as Hank came in. Kurt's gaze just followed as Hank wandered in, muttering something to himself that Kurt couldn't quite make out; and if he did it all had to do with medical science above his level of understanding. Hank grabbed a couple of books, debating to himself for a moment which one he actually needed, before putting one back and opening the other. While reading it semi aloud to himself, he walked back out, all without acknowledging the presence of the other two mutants in there even once.

"Who was that?" Miranda softly asked.

"Hank. I don't think he noticed us. Well. I think he knows we're here, I'm half convinced he depends on his scent more than he claims to. But there's a difference between knowing we're here and seeing what we're up to. We're fine."

And with that, he settled into the embrace himself. Closing his eyes for some rest himself, his ears remained sharp to listen for anyone else. And as soon as he heard the doorknob to the room turn in a different way, with way less weight behind it than Hank used, he reached out to grab the clipboard, taking it and her last drawing along as he teleported both of them out of the library and into his room. He placed her on the bed before going back the same way he came, moving around the library as if that had been what he was doing the whole time; easy to pretend he was just poofing around the room to find a specific book until he deliberately showed up next to Shadow.

"Gutentag. Fancy seeing you in the library. Looking for anything in particular?"

She just looked at him, one eyebrow half raised at his question.

"You don't seem like the librarian in here, Kurt," she said, shaking the book she was looking for as she had already found it by herself, "I've got it covered, it's fine."

She watched as he grabbed himself a couple of fiction books and took a spot at one of the tables around the place, opening one. And for a moment, she almost bought it; but for a reason she couldn't quite put her finger on it seemed a little too staged.

"Why are you actually here?"

"Why's anyone in a library, Fraulein? I've been here since I got back from the mission."

"The mission with Rogue? Who's been in Scott's office for what, ten, maybe twenty minutes? And you've just now decided which books to grab to read while being here all by yourself?" but the thing was, she had little to disprove his claim, something she was all the more aware of when yellow eyes slowly turned her way.

"Well, what do you suggest I was up to in here before you got here?"

"... I don't know. This library is big enough to hide away in."

A slight tension lingered in the silence between them, as both stared at each other for what felt like minutes on end, but in reality was only a couple of seconds.

"If you must know, I finished the last few pages of a book before you got here. Better to wrap up what you started than start something new with ten pages to the finish line."

She had no reason not to believe him, other than the feeling in her gut that he somehow wasn't telling her the truth. Then again, Shadow had little grounds to stand on when it came to honestly admitting to who she was spending most of her time with, so even if Kurt's claims fell off and she could probably needle him with the fact that his own faith condemned lying...

Bit hypocritical from someone who wouldn't admit it either had she and Gambit been up to something around here. Blue eyes observed Kurt for a moment longer, and she knew she didn't have any evidence that Miranda had been here.

"... Enjoy your books, I have to get back to the lab," she concluded, leaving the library. As soon as she shut the door behind her, Kurt let out a relieved sigh. He waited a little while longer before setting most of the books back where he found them, and teleporting back to his room with a singular one. He settled onto the bed, close enough to a sleeping Miranda that they were slightly in contact, before opening the book back up and returning to the point he had stopped at before.

[themultifandomgal]

Tyler Hoechlin- Our Love

Tears And Fears

January 2012

Tyler and still haven't confirmed our relationship, although there is a lot of speculation in the fandom and a lot of shipping, it hasn't made it into mainstream media since at the moment Teen Wolf is kinda small.

However recently my ex has been messaging me, I tried blocking him but he just gets a new number. This has started to make me nervous.

I'm on set right now having my hair and makeup done. Melissa walks in and sits next to me

"Hey sweetie"

"Hi Mel. Looking forward to our scene today"

"I bet you are. A shirtless Tyler in front of you while you have to stop bleeding"

"Oh hush up" I laugh just as a text comes through. I look to see that once again my ex has messaged me. I sigh blocking yet another number

"Are you ok?" Melissa asks

"Huh? Oh yeah fine"

"You sure?"

"Uh huh"

"Come on YN I'm a mom. I know when somethings bothering someone"

"Ok but promise you won't tell anyone?"

"As long as your not hurting yourself or anyone else or anyones hurting you then yes"

"Ok" I take in a deep breath "my ex keeps messaging me, I've tried blocking him but every time I do he just uses a new number. Guess at this point I'll have to get a new phone number"

"Have you told Tyler about this?"

"No"

"YN you need to tell him"

"Mel my ex is an ex for a reason, I haven't told anyone what happened during our relationship. Didn't think I would need to"

"Look all I know is if you don't tell Tyler and he finds out another way, or this ex finds out your dating Tyler and he messages him, then your going to have a lot more explaining to do"

"I'm just worried that if I tell Tyler everything, he won't want to carry on our relationship"

"You know Tyler won't be like that, but if you keep secrets he's going to be more upset" I know she's right, I really need to talk to Tyler about this, but not here. Not on set

"I'll ask him to come over tonight after we finish filming"

"You'll be ok"

"Thanks" I give Melissa a small smile.

I sit in my seat waiting for my scene with Tyler

"Hey where have you been all day?" Tyler says sitting next to me

"Sorry had a costume malfunction then hair and makeup took a while" not wrong but also not 100% true. I've been avoiding Tyler because like I said to Melissa I don't want to tell him on set and if effects both of our acting "erm do you want to come over tonight? We can order in?"

"Sure. What time do you finish today?"

"6 this evening"

"Ok I'll swing by yours when I finish"

"Ok YN, Hoechlin your up" Jeff says looking towards us. I slide off my chair and walk onto set.

Later on in the evening Tyler comes over after picking up a pizza and fries

“Ty?”

“Hmm” he hums in response before taking a sip of his drink

“I need to tell you something” I say nervously which Tyler obviously catches on to because he frowns

“What’s wrong?”

“I haven’t really told you anything about my past relationships”

“You don’t have to. They’re in the past”

“Not quite”

“What do you mean?”

“My ex has recently been messaging me. I keep blocking him but he’s just getting a new number. When we were dating he was very controlling, kinda manipulative. I couldn’t have male friends, tried to keep me away from my family. I know your different I can already tell, but him messaging me worries me”

“What worries you?” Tyler asks placing his arm over the back of couch

“Him messing up what we have” I then feel a tear run down my check. Quickly I wipe it away but it’s replaced by another one “what if he messages you or sells a fake story to the press or…”

“Ok first look at me” I finally look at Tyler who places his hands on the side of my face

“No mater what happens, I’m here by your side. I’m not going anywhere”

“But….”

“No buts. We will get through this together”

“Why is he messaging me now?”

“I don’t know, but if it carries on we can go to

The police with harassment” I take in a deep breath and nod my head

“I’m sorry I have a crazy ex”

“No need to apologise. Come here” Tyler holds his arms out for me. Of course I scoot closer and let him hold me close to him, my head resting on his chest “you want me to stay over tonight?” I give Tyler a little nod “ok”