#neons next big hyperfixation

[neon-danger]

Happy Halloween I’m thinking about if Jack Barakat was just some guy trying to make it in the house flipping industry so he got this haunted manor for cheap like “yeah I can handle a few ghosts” and there’s just one ghost and it’s Alex

[agent-calivide]

I kinda roll my eyes whenever I see posts mocking the whole "don't spam like" "unalive" tiktokification of social media, but not in the genuine "it's a fucking travesty that people have to self censor and think about algorithms that actively tries to screw over the users" way but rather in a "haha, new social media is dumb, I'm a bitter 30 year old" way.

Like, yeah, on Tumblr getting the response of "don't spam like" is fucking annoying because it doesn't do shit other than just show that someone's looking at all of your stuff, but spam liking is not binging a page. It is specifically when someone goes onto someone's tiktok and proceeds to mass-like videos without actually watching them all the way through, it's just scrolling and liking without actually watching the content, which communicates to the algorithm "hey, this person's videos suck because people stop watching at the 3 second mark" and stops pushing your videos.

This doesn't matter for people who are doing it for fun, I don't care personally on my tiktok, spam like away, but when people are trying to make a career out of it by either being an influencer or advertising their small business or trying to show music they've written or just wanna share work they're proud of it's annoying to get screwed by someone showing misplaced love. Especially when there was a window of time were people would spam like as an attack to try and fuck someone over and "shadowban" them.

And the making fun of the censoring is even more fucking stupid. I have posted 2 videos that got dinged for having inappropriate content and got two strikes on my tiktok that I've been running for about 5 years. Anyone who has seen my tiktoks knows I am as inoffensive as you get, I don't do thirst traps, I have Content and Trigger and Flash warnings, I hand-type captions on all of my videos and if I do use the auto-generated ones I watch the video back to make sure they're all correct, I just lipsync to silly audios and basically make video versions of incorrect quotes of whatever my hyperfixation is at the moment.

One was me painting a nerf gun and a nerf crossbow to look like a real gun and real crossbow to be props, which was dinged for showing firearms. My video of me painting a neon yellow gun and bright pink crossbow to black and woodgrain was marked as dangerous content because either someone chose to report me or whatever scanners they use to pick out "dangerous" videos misread and assumed I had real firearms and wouldn't repeal it. My other video, with multiple content and trigger warnings, had an audio that went "For my next trick, I'm gonna fucking kill myself". And while the audio was allowed to stay on tiktok and other people were allowed to use it, because I had a caption and a description that read: TW: Suicidal ideation and properly typing out captions, I got penalized.

But with tiktok, your post isn't just taken down, you have a limited number of strikes and if you get too many, you're entire fucking page is eaten. Just gone, erased, and there is no way for you to get it back. And I have two strikes for: painting a toy black and lipsyncing to a popular audio.

People aren't arbitrarily using "sewer-slide" "grapist" "unalived" and "pew pew" because they wanna infantilize this serious issue, it's because they want to talk about this serious issue without being silenced and, like it or not, tiktok is where word travels fast and to the biggest audience these days. Being "shadowbanned" and having all of your messages get strangled because you used the proper terminology, if not getting kicked straight off the platform, is too high a risk for someone who uses that platform. Especially if they do also use it to advertise, to squeeze a few pennies from the creator fund, to try and make it big or even just to fucking have fun.

I don't know if shadowbanning ever was actually a thing, I just do silly costumes to songs for fun, but there were many people who'd be trying to get traction to show work or get sales or speak out about a bad situation and suddenly they'd go from getting hundreds of thousands of views on every single video to maybe a couple hundred because they had the audacity to say "this shooter is a fucking monster" rather than "this [pew-pewer] is a [bad bad person]"

And if TikTok was their first social media platform, of course they're gonna think other platforms are also ruling with an iron fist. I still feel weird being allowed to say shit like gun and murder on Tumblr because there's a voice in the back of my head that says I'm gonna get my entire blog taken away for daring to use the proper words.

I don't know, maybe I'm missing something, but I think the most well known and most encouraged to use platform of these last few years is also one that's so highly regulated that people are pre-emptively trying to figure out how to talk about important things without it totalitarian-ly beating them into a fine paste with the algorithm so people just see the silly little dance videos tiktok would rather push over the people communicating real world problems is more fucked up than Stacy saying "unalived" on Reddit out of habit.

[somewhere-over-the-rynbow]

I’ve spent the past 3 years hyperfixating on fallout and punk music simultaneously, and I can NOT get the question, “did the punk movement happen in fallout?” out of my head.

Punk started mostly in the US due to a growing distaste for the idealism of the 40’s-60’s, from the blind patriotism of the conservative mindset to the hippies (which might be canon due to the graffiti at Hidden Valley, but is also muddy). The problem is, while there’s plenty of evidence pointing to punk being a thing, there’s also plenty of… lack of evidence.

There are “punks” in Fallout 2, by name and appearance. General ‘fuck off’ attitude, guys with long hair and leather vests, girls with short, neon green hair. We see a continuation of this style in Bethesda games, too. Raiders are often seen sporting punk haircuts and general aesthetics, similar to the Fallout 2 punks.

All of that points to punk existing in the Fallout canon, but here’s the problem- there’s no music left, and for a music based subculture, that’s a pretty big deal. Another issue is the fact that culture seems to stagnate in the 60’s at the latest, which is a problem when the subculture you keep referencing became a big thing in the mid to late 70’s.

We know the Vietnam War happens in Fallout because they mention it in Tactics. The consequences of the Vietnam War were a major catalyst for early punk, because the Vietnam War sparked apathy towards the USA and a wave of “unpatriotic” ideals. I wonder if it did the same in Fallout, and if the prevailing patriotic attitude through the next century led to a prevalent, never dying but still pretty small punk scene, leading to today’s raiders.

Who knows. The things I would do for a modern Fallout Bible, man. Or at least, like… raider pirate radio.

[shinji-brown]

An Analysis of Imperial Japanese Navy Names as Used in Neon Genesis Evangelion

by @the-many-children-of-the-void

I have autism. I have a special interest in naval history, specifically the period between the launch of HMS Dreadnought in 1906 and the end of the Second World War. I know a lot of stuff, like the orders of battle for a bunch of actions in the Pacific. My favorite navy during this time period is that of Imperial Japan (mostly cause their ship names are the most fun). This basically makes me a member of the prime target demographic for understanding that particular bit of nuance.

As a side note: I'm going to try to refrain from using too much naval terminology in this essay but it's something I'm very close to and it's entirely possible that I end up like that one xkcd.

We're going to start with the Japanese aircraft carriers Akagi and Katsuragi and how their positions in the progression of Japanese carrier development lend themselves to their namesakes. Then we're going to discuss the Fubuki-class destroyer Ayanami and we're going to finish with a comparison of Soryu and Shikinami. I will not be discussing minor characters with ship names because, for the purposes of this discussion, they aren't relevant. Maya and Ibuki are both cruisers, for example, but there isn't really any special significance to those choices that I'm able to detect.

So what in the service histories of these ships leads me to suggest that their names have more specific significance than simply being names that go with their character's first names? That's the million dollar question and, by the time I'm done, I hope you'll at least understand where I'm coming from. So, buckle your seatbelts everyone and get ready for my hyperfixation fueled naval history infodump extravaganza.

We start with Akagi. She was built as the first full-size aircraft carrier in Japan, but she wasn't designed that. Prior to an international agreement to limit the size and number of ships in a number of navies, she was under construction as a battlecruiser (you don't have to know what that means), the second of the Amagi-class (a class is a set of ships that are all designed the same way). After that agreement was signed, though, Japan elected to convert her to an aircraft carrier instead of scrapping her hull. She served as a test bed for various aircraft carrier technologies during the 1930s and was modernized later in the decade. She served in the Kido Butai, Japan's strike force that attacked Pearl Harbor with another ship we'll see in a bit and was sunk at the Battle of Midway in 1942. For this comparison though, we need to meet another ship too.

Katsuragi was Akagi's opposite in a number of ways. She was designed as an aircraft carrier. She was completed in October of 1944. She was the second to last big aircraft carrier built by the Imperial Japanese Navy during the war. She was started to help replace the carriers lost at Midway. She never left port although, if she had, it would almost certainly have been to ferry kamikaze aircraft. Sound familiar?

Misato's role is the same. Bringing the sacrifice to the altar, in the same way an aircraft carrier bringing kamikaze aircraft does. It's reductive, though, to reduce Misato Katsuragi to just her relationship to Shinji, so let's look at her relationship to the character named for the other ship we've talked about: Ritsuko Akagi and, more specifically, how Akagi and Katsuragi apply to their characterizations and their relationship.

Katsuragi was young and fiery. She never saw action but her crew would have been young, mostly former students. She was indicative of an "ends justify the means" mindset in the latter half of the war. In contrast, Akagi was more cautious and experienced, a comparison reflected in any comparison of their namesake characters.

So the operational histories of Akagi and Katsuragi are reflected in their characters, but those are just two. Next, let's take a look at Ayanami, the lead ship of her subclass of Fubuki-class destroyers and why the choice of a destroyer from the middle of a class is relevant to Rei.

As we've established, a class of ships is a group of them that are all built to the same design. Japan built 24 Fubuki-class destroyers. By having so many, destroyers can be easily replaced with other ones. Not many destroyers attain fame equal to that of a bigger ship, such as a battleship or an aircraft carrier and they're not supposed to. They escort merchant ships, hunt submarines and serve as the screen for the bigger ships. Any fleet will have between a few and a bunch of destroyers. They're easy to replace. If one is sunk, another one can take its place.

This is the piss on the poor website, but I hope the point I'm building to is already obvious. For those to whom it isn't, let me make it clearer: Japan built 24 Fubuki-class destroyers. Destroyers are small ships and are easy to replace. Ayanami was the eleventh of those ships. Not the first Fubuki and not the last. The use of a destroyer name reflects that implication.

There's one more advantage to the choice to use Ayanami instead of another Fubuki-class ship that's going to become more relevant in the final part of this essay but I think it's important to mention before that point: Ayanami was the 11th, and the first of her subclass. The first child.

Now we're going to talk about how the meaning of Asuka's name changes depending on Soryu and Shikinami. It's all based on the orders of their construction in relation to the ships around them. We're going to start with Soryu.

Soryu was the third fleet aircraft carrier built in Japan, after Akagi and Kaga. She was the first purpose built fleet aircraft carrier after two prototypes. As Asuka says in Episode 8: Asuka Arrives in Japan:

After all, Units 00 and 01 were created as part of a development process, prototype and test type. The fact that it synchronized with an untrained pilot like you is proof of that. But Unit 02 is different. Created for actual combat conditions, this is the world's first true Evangelion.

Hmm. That sounds like how someone would describe Soryu, in relation to Akagi and Kaga, doesn't it? Soryu represents, in an obscure way, that Asuka is the pilot of Unit 02. But what about Shikinami? It's not an aircraft carrier. In fact, it's a destroyer, like Ayanami. It's a destroyer exactly like Ayanami. Ayanami is the 11th Fubuki-class destroyer and the first of the Ayanami subclass. Shikinami is the 12th Fubuki-class destroyer and the second of the Ayanami subclass. If Ayanami is the first child and the first of the Ayanami subclass, then Shikinami is the second child and the second of the Ayanami subclass.

So, Akagi and Katsuragi are indicative of their characters, based on their histories. Ayanami was a destroyer, something easily replaceable. Soryu and Shikinami are representative of Asuka's position, although the former is more subtle than the latter.

But Allie, I hear you say, how can you assign meaning to this? You've been in this fandom for four total days and you spent the first two of those watching it. How do you ascribe any intention here? The truth is, I can't. I can't say for certain any of this was intentional. The only reason I can think of to suggest it could have been was that it happens a lot. Hyuga doubling as a pilot, for example. Can I claim to know exactly what was going on in Anno's mind in the decade before I was born? Clearly not. Is it interesting and thought provoking to think about? Absolutely.

Thank you for taking the time to read this crap.

[jazminetoad]

Guess who made a Hazbin OC

Not me, I just hazbinfied an OC

Meet Shoko Takamoto, her alive version in this post

Okay so I was thinking what if Shoko was in Hazbin Hotel (cuz hyperfixation on Hazbin) and when a sinner spawns they have traits for how they died, things they hate as their appearance, and other traits that express who they are

Therefore Shoko would look like her mom and have red-tinted skin/hair, plus horns because she likely died fighting a demon (literally or metaphorically depends if this is crossover or not) and because her family is associated with dragons, they're dragon horns, she also got her rollerblade skates because I said so. When she first arrives Shoko is extremely uneasy because she is surrounded by a red atmosphere but she toughs it out (cuz her dad taught her that) and strides through the city and to her luck finds a shop that sells hair dye and body paint, so she buys blue shiz to cover up the red.

How did Shoko die?

Well, it was not long after Reverb died (he went to heaven) that she began to lose herself, becoming more aggressive, becoming a senseless killing machine, she lost her positive friend, who encouraged her to be herself, who never did any wrong in the world, and it sent her spiraling. Out of touch with her emotions, she was only set on pleasing her father on the off chance she would receive a positive comment from her father, maybe it'd make her feel again. That was her downfall. During her final fight, senseless to her surroundings as she killed, she got hit vitally and died

Around this time, sinners only had flip phones (since progress is delayed by a lot) so she creates a smartphone from flip phone and tv parts (which catches Vox's attention because he's a tv man) Vox pops up

"Well aren't you a pretty little demon."

"Usseewa oni before I shank you."

Then she takes a proper look at him and sees he's blue. While he does come off as a little sketchy, Shoko can't help but feel relaxed at the sight of someone so blue when everything else is burning red

"So this is the latest technology up on Earth?"

"Yeah what about it old man?" (Shoko says this in a chill way since she feels at ease around him)

"You know how they operate, become my business partner and I'll make you one of the most powerful overlords."

Shoko agrees on the condition she didn't have to get her hands bloody and mass-produces smartphones, followed by flat computers, with Vox. She only brought Twitter and YouTube since she thought the other social media apps were stupid. Using YouTube she grew her fame as a rap artist, and her power developing to weakening others when she disses them (basically vicious mockery). Her first distrack about radio and how it plays crap no one cares for and surprisingly for Shoko, Vox praises her for her it (cuz it was weakening Alastor, though he disappears for other reasons obviously). Their business turns more friendship, Vox reminding her of her old pals Saikoro and Reverb (she misses them but her friend eases the loss)

Shoko doesn't like Val since he reminds her of a few mafia playboys, however I think it would be funny if this happened

"You remind me of someone."

"Really? Who I remind you of, dollface?"

"Doflamingo."

"Is he some big shot on Earth?"

"...Yeah, yeah he is." *proceeds to gaslight him into believing Doflamingo is a real mafia boss pulling strings in the navy*

I just find it funny

Anywho, Shoko is only there for about a year before Velvet shows up, surprise surprise, she's an old classmate of Shoko (I might not keep that idea, eh) and proceeds to info Vox of the many other social medias there is and how she has far more knowledge of modern technology, thus Vox who is a corporate asshole that priorities power and money, cuts Shoko off, giving Velvet her place

Not sure where Shoko would go next, my thoughts are many she teams up with Neon Dino Overlord, but either way she in a way ended up as a hazbin

Yeah, she works with Neon Dino, together they run all sorts of music hotspots: Rollerskating joint, clubs, rap battle joints, and rock concerts. They monopolize the music industry, banning classic, country, jazz, and girly pop from their places. You know they own the location when the name has "Kaiju" in it

I feel like sometimes Vox would look back at photos or items that remind him of Shoko and feel a bit of remorse, he cut off his first friend since Alastor and it sucks at times since friends are hard to come by down here. Course his anger for Alastor takes over or the Vees distract him from his thoughts and he forgets about it

[mixtapestar]

AO3 Wrapped [writer's edition]

How many words have you written this year? 248,282 according to my tracker; 231,445 posted

How many works did you publish this year? 105

What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)? flip like a switch (Ted Lasso, Roy/Keeley/Jamie, Explicit) featuring switch!Roy

What work of yours has the most hits? relentless (Venom, Eddie/Venom, Explicit) - written for the BDSM exchange

What work of yours got more feedback than you expected? the best sleep (Ted Lasso, Roy/Jamie, Explicit) featuring only one bed

Favorite title you used intricate rituals (Ted Lasso, Roy/Jamie, Explicit) featuring fighting that turns to fucking

If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most? surprisingly little lyric-inspired titles this year! the only one that comes to mind is step into the future (High School Musical, Chad/Ryan, Teen) that uses a HSM3 lyric

Relationship you wrote the most for this year? Roy/Jamie (46)

Favorite relationship you wrote for this year? Equal love for Roy/Jamie and Roy/Jamie/Keeley!

What work was the quickest to write? future luck (Ted Lasso, Roy/Jamie/Keeley, Explicit) because we needed the tags for battleship 😂

What work took you the longest to write? caught in a landslide (Ted Lasso, Roy/Jamie/Keeley, Explicit) featuring Jamie not knowing he's being wooed

How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year? looks like 6-8 that have potential to actually get written/posted in 2024

What’s your longest work of the year? caught in a landslide (see above) at 14,467 words

What’s your shortest work of the year? several drabbles of exactly 100 words! I think my favorite is anticipation (Ted Lasso, Roy/Jamie/Keeley, Teen)

What WIP are you taking into next year with you? Roy/Jamie/Keeley soulmark AU

What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag? Dom/sub 😂

Your favorite character to write this year? Roy Kent

The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year? Carlos Reyes in my foray into 9-1-1: Lone Star fic! I hope I did him justice.

What’s one pairing you want to explore next year? since I'm still comfy in my Ted Lasso hyperfixation, I'm thinking Colin/Will

Which work of yours have you reread the most? probably not quite a punishment (Roy/Jamie, Explicit) just for editing reasons

How many kudos in total did you get this year? 13,648

Which work has the most comments? flip like a switch (see above)

Did you do any collaborative works this year? I podficced several works! You can find them at an AO3 name that switches out 'pod' for 'star' 😉

Did you write any gifts this year? MANY!!! Most of my fics from the first 3/4 of the year were for exchanges, and then the last 30 were for the Sexy Christmas event on the This Is Perverse (Roy/Jamie) discord server.

Did you receive any gifts this year? Also many, because of the exchanges! They're so much fun <3

What’s your most common category? M/M

What do you listen to while writing? Usually nothing, but if not, something instrumental or in a language I don't speak. I was a big fan of Neon Bunny this year.

Favorite work you wrote this year? equal opportunity (Ted Lasso, Roy/Jamie/Keeley, Explicit), because it was written right after 3x01 responding to the events therein, and I think it still slaps

Favorite line/passage you wrote this year? from the best sleep:

"Alright, seriously. Did you take something? Have some shots? It's fine, you can tell me. Fuck knows I got into plenty of shit back in the day." Jamie stares back at him in wide-eyed confusion when Roy twists around to see his face. "I didn't have nothing, Coach. Swear down." "Why are you being so fucking weird then? All… happy." Jamie's expression softens. He hasn't moved his hand from around Roy's middle since Roy twisted around, so now his fingers are tangled in Roy's shirt, rucking it up. "'Cause I'm fucking happy, mate. We won against City—me mum was proper hyped up over it. I got to dance with Colin's fit new boyfriend and tease him about it, and then I got to come home with you." Roy's heart jumps to his throat at Jamie's phrasing. "And that makes you happy?" he rasps. "All that?" Roy's shirt bunches under Jamie's hand as he grips it. "Roy," he says desperately, eyes pleading.

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year? Writing 30 Roy/Jamie fics for Sexy Christmas. 😂 The inspiration of a big ol' stack of kink prompts!

[arowithanotp]

okAY I also have very similar thoughts about this and I gotta get my hyperfixation out somehow.

Anastasia IS subversive for all the reasons you said above and on an archetype level as well. Yeah, “haha she’s an off brand disney princess” is true in the aesthetics of her story, but the core of her character is very different.

Majority of Disney Princess’s are Misunderstood girls fighting against parent/society to Live the Life They Want, that they sing a song about. Which is all well and good but that isn’t Anya. Her struggle is her *lack* of identity.

Her “I want” song is about desperately wanting to know who she is and where she comes from while being terrified that she can’t. And as much as I love other Disney princesses that’s a whole lot more nuanced and complicated then “I want to be human”, “I want adventure”, “I want a day outside this tower” etc. The next step in the Disney Princess Formula is breaking away from family and going on that adventure everyone is telling them not to. While Anya is risking a safe, stable life, for the off chance she’ll find her family.

Most Disney princesses then proceed to prove why their identity is valid and that they can have the life they want (Ariel becomes human, Jasmine gets to marry Aladdin, etc.) Meanwhile Anya finds what she was looking for, finds her family and realizes it’s not what she wants. She lets go of everything we watched her fight for because she knows who she was and now she gets to make a future for herself with her boytoy. (All I will say about best boy Dimitri is he wrote the blueprint for Naveen and Flynn Ryder).

And what makes the subversion 100X cooler is that it’s not a big deal. So often when subverting a Disney formula films have a neon red sign saying SUBVERSIVE SUBVERSIVE, but Anastasia doesn’t feel the need to do that, and it easily could have. It just used the same building blocks to construct a different archetype and let it exist as one of the best animated movies.

Every 6 months or so I get this profound urge to make a comedic video essay on how the 1997 Don Bluth film is a fascinatingly subversive take on the Disney Princess archetype. (No it is not lost on me that Disney now owns the film)

Like especially in the last decade or so where Disney movies make characters royals by loopholes, or in straight up confounding ways (see Princess and the Frog or the live action Aladdin). And treat being a royal less as an actual occupation and more as “person who is attractive that everyone likes and gives money to.” Anastasia is the only Princess film where being royal is portrayed as strictly a performative role, and therefore one that ultimately she rejects. It’s not what she needed, nor what the audience needs, to achieve emotional catharsis.

It’s also fascinatingly subversive in that it takes place at a very specific time and place in history, as opposed to “kind of over there, generally, maybe in Norway? idk”. Like one of the jokes about the Disney Beauty and the Beast is how the French Revolution would have happened shortly after the film. And like, there is something to be said about having a fairy tale be set “long ago and far away”. However, Disney loves to give you the flavor of an era without ever really bringing in the politics of it. It muddies the waters of making royalty palatable at a time when we’ve largely abolished it. Anastasia doesn’t skirt the issue of a Revolution, it starts that way. I always assumed that must be profoundly offensive to Russians, but some basic research showed the opposite for the most part. (Not like they care too much about an animated film from the 90’s, they’ve got bigger things on their plate.)

There is nothing wrong with the Disney approach per se, it works for their films. However, Anastasia isn’t hindered by giving you specific years, months, timelines and cultural touchstones. It exists in the same world as political events, artistic milestones, and even medical innovation (like Freud shows up as a gag, it’s not a guy who looks like Freud, it’s him. You also get Isadora Duncan, and Josephine Baker making cameos. Them showing up provides a quick laugh, but also reinforces the idea that being a royal for Anya isn’t a political role, but would largely just make her a Parisian celebrity of the time with no actual power to affect Russians.)

Even stuff I used to think was unneeded in the animated film proved to be an asset to the film once I saw how it was altered for the theatrical production. The stage musical lacks Rasputin, and pulls in the Bolsheviks and it’s made way less fun or concise as a result. Personally I find it a mopey production without nearly the amount of fun it should have. (Ironically early versions of the film had Bolshevik villains but they replaced them with Rasputin upon learning that Russians found the Bolshevik plot more unpleasant. This was an actual case of “a wizard did it” being a less offensive option.)

Idk, I’ve seen SO much film essay criticism that is about how bad some films are, and there is some stuff I find silly in the film, but every couple of months I’m like “yeah, that was kind of an interesting way to tackle that.”

Talking out loud, because I can’t film or video edit atm, but I’d like to make this happen some day.

[cyborgsquirrel]

People I’d like to get to know better

Thanks for the tag @squintclover ❤️

Last song I listened to: Well, since I'm literally playing music from the moment I get up, until the moment I climb into bed at night, this is going to change as I'm writing it. So it would probably be easier to list my current playlist, which I've been listening to on repeat for about three weeks now. All the songs relate to my fic in some way, so I'll explain that too.

So there's Neon Medusa by The Midnight, and My Demons by STARSET which are both about Regulus joining the Death Eaters as a spy. Then there's Control by Zoe Wees which is Remus in the story right now (Chapter 82 onwards) 😭

Then there are the songs about future events. Starlight, and Dark on Me, both by STARSET, which can't be about anything but Wolfstar, like Siriusly 💔. Monster again by STARSET, which I'm not explaining because spoilers 👀. And finally, Battle Cry, and Wrecked by Imagine Dragons, the first is Regulus after drinking the potion in the Horcrux cave 😭, and the second is hmmm, actually, I'm not saying 👀🤐😂.

Last show I watched: I recently binged Star Trek Voyager because my son was watching it and he wanted to talk to me about it, so I wanted to refresh my memory.

Currently watching: Nothing at all. I'm not a big tv watcher apart from the occasional binge.

Currently reading: Crimson Rivers by @zeppazariel. It's made me cry multiple times and I'm eagerly awaiting the next chapter.

Current obsessions: Is it too obvious to say the Marauders and wolfstar? Lmao. I don't have any new current obsessions because I'm trying extremely hard not to get hyperfixated on anything because I really want to finish writing second-year.

Your turn @brionyjae @cafe-y-marauders @claxxixx @sunflowerfox87

[nyrandrea]

Setting The Stage

My hyperfixation is set back on fnaf again in anticipation for Security Breach, so I’ve decided to write my own interpretation on how the game might begin! 

Summary: Gregory had always dreamed of going to Freddy Faxbear’s Mega Pizza Plex and meeting his heroes. But he somehow ends up getting more than he bargained for, and dreams start to turn into nightmares.

Originally planned as a oneshot but had to split it into two parts.Link to next chapter is down below! Also available to read on AO3 here!

Enjoy!

Walking into Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex for the first time was something that every kid in the world should experience, at least according to Gregory’s logic. 

And it was that logic – and a lot of puppy dog looks – that just about managed to work on his mom. Because here he was, finally standing in front of the colorful neon sign with his favorite animal mascots welcoming him in.  

It had taken a lot of begging and guilt-tripping but he wasn’t ashamed one bit, though his mother might have disagreed, especially when it came to the snivelling part. But hey, it wasn’t his fault she had worked late on his birthday, so she owed him. Big time. 

He vaguely recalled her grumbling about having to dip into her savings for this trip. 

So that meant that he only had today, and he had to make every second count. 

“So...” a voice spoke up from behind him. “Am I finally forgiven?” 

Gregory looked up to see his mom giving him ‘the look’, and to that he nodded profusely.  

“Good. After today you can finally leave me in peace,” she said, giving his hair a playful ruffle as they walked through the large sliding doors and into the mall. 

He decided to push it just a little bit further. 

“Can I get a Freddy plushie?” 

The little boy swore he could hear a vein pop. 

“I already bought tickets for the meet and greet. Do you know how much those cost me?” 

He shrugged. 

“A lot, and it’s coming out of your college fund.” 

“What if I don’t wanna go to college?” 

“Maybe you won’t get to after today,” she replied, rubbing at her temples. “Fine. I’ll give you ten dollars and you can buy yourself something at the store when we’re done, alright?” 

That was enough to cover a pencil, maybe an eraser as well if he haggled. But he didn’t argue.  

Both Gregory and his mom were suddenly blinded when they entered into the main part of the building as bright neon lights bounced off of the high glass ceiling and right into their retinas. Only once they were able to adjust their eyes could they really absorb the true grandeur of the place. 

Everywhere you looked there were people: from tired-eyed parents trying to find the next thing to distract their kids to enthusiastic parents who wanted to get involved in everything their kids were doing while filming it on their phone for their blogs. Then there were the snot-nosed teens who were bunking off school and several professional shopping guides with forced smiles wider than Moondrop and Sunrise’s combined. Everyone seemed to move in unison as the hall was filled with the sound of shoes squeaking against the polished checkered floors. 

Topping it all off was a massive gleaming golden statue of Glamrock Freddy proudly posed right in the center, singing silently into the microphone as soft music and wacky adverts played in the background. 

Suddenly Gregory felt very small. 

“It sure is...big, isn’t it?” His mother said, not sounding so confident herself. 

He merely nodded in agreement. 

Her son-o-meter seemed to be finely tuned as ever as she gently grasped Gregory’s shoulder and gave him a light but reassuring shake. 

“C’mon now,” she tenderly prodded. “We’ve got all day to enjoy the place so let’s make the most of it, huh? It’s not every day we get to go to Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex.” 

This was true. Coming here had once been only but a dream. Now he was here, staring up at a brilliantly shining statue of Glamrock Freddy. And pretty soon he was going to be meeting the bear himself. 

His hand absently went to towards his back-pocket before he made a fist as determination washed over him. Looking up at his mom, he nodded. 

“And if I’m remembering right, I think I know the first thing on your to-do list.”  

The boy had already grabbed her hand as he made a beeline for their first activity. 

“To Fazer Blast!” 

 xxx

Trying to imitate the pose of the Roxanne cut-out that was behind the reception desk, Gregory pointed his laser blaster at his mom as she attempted to fit on his vest. 

“Could you stop fidgeting?” 

“But I’m practicing-” 

“Stop. Fidgeting.” 

He pouted before she struck him with that look again, which he pretended not to notice as he gazed up towards the lady at the reception desk. She looked about in her twenties and was using one hand to push back her long sleek black locks away from her face every five seconds while her other hand typed lazily on a screen. 

“So...do I just join a team or...?” 

It took her a moment to even register that he was talking to her before she flicked her hair back again just to glare down at him. 

“Sure, like, do what you want. It’s your game, you make the rules.” 

She seemed to pause for a moment. 

“You do, like, know the rules, right?” 

Gregory wasn’t sure how to respond to that.  

“Uh...sure?” 

“Fantastic,” she drawled as she focused her attention back to her tablet. “Your session ends in fifteen minutes.” 

His mother rolled her eyes and muttered something about, “kids these days”, but soon smiled and took Gregory’s shoulder as she walked him in. 

“Just remember to have fun, alright? Screw the rules.” 

“Really?” Gregory asked, his toothy grin twisting into something sinister as he got into the Roxanne pose again.  

“Just...don’t run and remember to stay within the walls,” she added on quickly. “Can’t have my little space man getting lost now, can I?” 

Gregory made a sound of disgust as he was pulled in for a kiss before she finally let him loose into the brightly colored arena. He couldn’t help but take a moment to stare up in awe as spotlights of purple, green and red shone upon the various props and fixtures that decorated the place. 

 In the center was a giant space rocket that was surrounded by planets with neon rings glowing around them. The cut-outs from reception were scattered about too, though now they were humongous. Gregory almost couldn’t help but salute the towering Freddy as he walked past. 

He also noticed a room near the back walls. It was raised up to overlook the whole arena and was surrounded by green-lit pillars. It fit in with the theme of the room but also...jarringly stood out. Maybe it was a place for parents to watch their kids play, or perhaps the employees? 

“Hey Grogery!”  

That voice. That name struck fear into his chest as he swirled around to face a group of boys that had aimed their blasters right at him. 

“Never thought we’d see you here,” the biggest one said with a smirk. “You sneak in through the gutters or something?” 

“Hey... Bob,” Gregory casually greeted. Though it was hard to act so suave when he was trembling. 

“It’s Rob.” 

“Rob! Yeah...cool to see you too.” 

Learning the names of his bullies from class had never been at the top of Gregory’s to-do list, but then again it hadn’t been at the top of theirs either, clearly. But God, why did they have to be here of all places? Of all days, even? 

“Nah, his mom probably got him in here with all that hooker money she earns!” The skinny one snorted, making them all burst out into laughter. 

“She works at the hospital,” Gregory weakly argued. 

“Not what my dad said!” Rob hollered, still rubbing tears from his eyes. 

“So, what, is your dad cheating on your mom?” He sniped back with a sneer of his own. 

His grin soon disappeared though when they all suddenly stopped laughing and a beat of silence followed, save for the distant laser blasts sounding off around them. 

“The hell did you just say to me?” Rob asked, his voice dangerously quiet. If his brows knitted together any tighter then those pimples on the bridge of his nose might pop at any given moment. Gregory grimaced at the very thought. 

“N-nothing! Um...I mean- it's technically not cheating if your parents are divorced, right?” 

Rob positioned the blaster in his hand not so much as to aim it, but rather throw it. 

“Like I said, my mom wouldn’t even do that!” 

The pimples popped. 

With that, Gregory legged it before the gun could smack him in the face. He dashed between the walls as the angry voices behind him grew distant, he almost felt bad as he climbed through the holes and bumped past people, but hey it was like his mom said, screw the rules, right? 

However, it looked like the rules were starting to screw him when he smacked into a dead end. The black wall was too high for him to jump over and the only way out would be to re-trace his steps, which meant... 

“C’mon Grogery!” Rob’s voice taunted through the luminous hall. “Let’s see how many knocks to the head you can take before you bleed.”  

The boy swallowed a hard lump down his throat as he backed himself up against the wall and looked up at the Roxanne cut-out that towered above him, aiming her blaster with such confidence and attitude. With a deep breath and a firm nod, he did the same with the hope that getting them disqualified might save him. 

If not, at least his mom was a first-aider. 

“Hey...” A soft, almost girlie voice laced with a mechanical tone called out. “In here.”  

Gregory’s head snapped to the right as a hand – or was it a paw? – beckoned him into a dark corner. 

“Hurry up...!” The voice urged, and before Gregory could question anything, he saw four shadows creep around as the sound of footsteps thundered towards him, forcing him to make a snap decision and dive into the darkness, getting caught by a pair of skinny, furred arms. 

“Shit, where did he go?” Rob shouted as the group gathered where Gregory had been standing just seconds before.  

“Looks like he dropped his blaster,” one of them said as he picked it up. “Maybe he climbed the wall?” 

There was a sudden yelp as Rob smacked him upside the head. 

“Don’t be so fucking stupid, he’s tiny. No way in hell he’d be able to scale that.” 

Gregory stiffened as Rob suddenly turned in his direction, but he felt the stranger put a hand on his head, and strangely enough, it calmed him down. 

“...C’mon, he’s gotta be around here somewhere,” Rob finally said, pulling the group away. “He can’t hide forever.” 

After a few moments of waiting, Gregory let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. 

“Bullies are just the worst, huh?” 

Almost jumping out of his skin at the sudden chipper voice cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife, he glanced up with wide eyes as the figure gave him a little pat on the head.  

This was obviously a girl but with the shadows enveloping her it was hard to tell exactly...what she was.  

He could make out a pair of tall ears so...a rabbit? Gregory couldn’t remember any animatronics other than Freddy, Chica, Monty and Roxanne, as well as Moondrop and Sunrise. Was this a new character? 

But what kind of bunny would have such piercing red eyes? 

“My name’s Vanny,” she greeted. “What’s yours?” 

Feeling slightly relieved that she had finally let him go, he cautiously stepped out and looked around to make sure he was in the clear before turning to face her.  

“...Gregory,” the boy timidly answered, still feeling a bit unnerved.  

“What a swell name! It’s nice to meet’cha,” she said with a small bow, which unveiled a few more features like a bright blue bow tied around her neck, and an unnaturally wide toothy grin plastered on her patched face.  

What’s more, she didn’t exactly move like a robot, despite sounding like one. 

“Are you new?” Gregory asked, causing Vanny to tilt her head. 

“Huh?” 

“I’ve never seen you in the show before and...” he paused, knowing his words had already gotten him in trouble today. 

“And what?” she prodded. 

“Well...you don’t really look like an animatronic.” 

“That’s because I’m not!”  

Gregory flinched at her overly cheerful tone and stepped back as she kneeled down to his level. 

“Can I let ya in on a little secret?” Vanny asked, cupping her hand to her mouth in a poorly disguised whisper. 

“Sure...?” 

“I wanna be in the show. Like, I really really wanna be in the show. That’s why I made this,” the rabbit gestured to herself in an overly dramatic way; caressing her ears and cupping her face. “But I gotta prove myself first.” 

“Prove yourself?” 

“Yup!” 

Gregory raised an eyebrow when she didn’t elaborate further, but decided to put it to rest as he really wanted to get out before Rob and his goons came back. 

“I know a shortcut outta here,” Vanny offered with a tilt of the head, as if reading his mind. “Just take a couple of rights and a left and you’ll be as right as rain! Want me to show you?”  

“T-that’s okay, I should be good,” Gregory replied with a smile, though it slowly turned into a frown when she didn’t answer back, choosing instead to just...stare at him, her head still tilted, almost as if she were deep in thought. 

“But...thanks anyway...?” he weakly offered. 

This seemed to snap her out of her trance as she nodded vigorously. 

“No problem! And don’t worry, if those bullies come back, I’ll give ‘em a dose of Moondrop’s sleepy candy. That oughta slow ‘em down!”  

He had heard of that stuff, but couldn’t for the life of him understand why kids would want candy that would put them to sleep. Nevertheless, he nodded and thanked her again before turning, and hurrying away, a soft giggle echoing behind him. 

 xxx

“Where on earth have you been? It’s been thirty minutes!” 

Gregory was still a little shaken up by the time he had reached the exit, so much so that he had forgotten that he had been on a time limit. 

“Sorry, mom...” Gregory muttered sheepishly as she looked him over. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

Glancing back towards the arena, he tried to see if he could spot Rob’s gang still wandering about in there. 

“Did you see a group of guys come out by any chance? Older than me. Kinda ugly...” 

“Now you’re answering my question with a question,” his mother said with a sigh. “But no. Why? Did something happen?” 

“No!” he blurted out, making her give him that look again. “We were just...having so much fun but then I uh...I lost them. Just wondering if they left without me or something.” 

Her expression softened a little. He hated when she did that. 

“No, sweetie...but I’m sure they won’t be far, should we go look for them?” 

Gregory grabbed her hand and started pulling her away. “It’s fine! The show’ll be starting soon, right? We can’t miss it!” 

“Okay, okay...!” she chuckled as he dragged her. “But first we need to hand your blaster in.” 

He stopped then, inwardly cursing at himself before smiling sheepishly up at his mom as she narrowed her eyes at him. 

“You lost it, didn’t you.”  

Her tone suggested that it wasn’t a question. 

“Yep.” 

He yelped when she was suddenly the one dragging him away. 

“Well, we best make ourselves scarce then, besides we can’t miss your big show, right?” 

Gregory grinned. “Screw the rules?” 

She smiled back. “Screw the rules.” 

 xxx

They had made it to the main stage before the show began, but there were already big crowds congregating near the front to get the best view, and Gregory was having none of it. 

His mom kept apologizing to the angry faces and pointed looks as he towed her through the mass of people to get to the front, ignoring her when she grumbled about having to teach him some social skills. 

Gregory drowned everything else in the auditorium out as his wide brown eyes focused on the stage, even trying to balance up on the tips of his toes to get any kind of glimpse of brown, green, pink or purple. He had waited so long for this moment, and nothing more mattered than the next hour. 

Gregory wasn’t ashamed to admit that he squealed a little when the lights died down, it was just as well that every other kid in the auditorium screamed too, resulting in the kind of high-pitched noise that would make a banshee cringe. 

“Hello ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!” A mechanical voice greeted over the speakers. “Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizza Plex! Are you all having a fantabulous time?”  

The crowds erupted once more. 

“Rockin’!” Gregory gasped as a rough female voice took over. "Y’all ready to get your glam on?!”  

“Oh Roxanne...” a more feminine tone scolded. “Now you’ve given us away. Again.”  

Gregory’s smile grew wider, he knew this whole skit, next up would be- 

"I think we’ve kept ‘em waiting long enough, gals,” a graveled voice boomed out from the speakers. "Whaddya say, Freddy? Should we give the kids what they want?”  

The little boy almost couldn’t contain himself at this point. 

“I say let’s rock out!”  

The curtains suddenly swung open to reveal the animatronics in all their shiny, glittering glory.  

They were all 80’s themed, of course, to fit in with the aesthetic of the mall. Glamrock Chica had the typical pink leotard with green leopard print leg warmers; very popular with the girls. Roxanne Wolf was more unconventional with a striking red outfit, piercings and the mascot for the mall’s race course; she appealed to quite a wide range of people. Montgomery Gator was more for the chads as he had a rough and tough attitude with a love of golf, but Gregory did admire his red mohawk and star-shaped shades. 

Then there was Glamrock Freddy. The mascot of the Pizza Plex. He didn’t really have a gimmick as such but was incredibly popular just for how great he was with the children. The other animatronics were good with kids but Freddy was the one who seemed to pay the most attention to them, whether it be sitting down and listening to a kid’s story, accepting gifts from them to even giving them gifts of his own free will – mostly a plushie of himself. 

Management were irked by this odd behavior at first but when they saw how much cash he was raking in from meet and greets alone, they decided to leave it. Why fix it if it ain’t broke, right? 

As they burst into their first song, with Freddy singing into his mic stand and the other three playing keytars, Gregory didn’t even notice when his mother shook his shoulder and told him that she would have to take a phone call but would be back as soon as she could. There were some instructions on where to meet if she didn’t make it back by the time the show was finished but the words fell on deaf ears as he bounced and sang along to the lyrics he had spent so painstakingly long to learn. 

By the fourth or fifth song, the crowds had started to dissipate as parents took their children away to browse some more shops or to go to the food court for lunch, but Gregory stayed until the very end, cheering and whooping when the animatronics did their final encore and bowed as the curtains were drawn to a close. 

Fearing his chest might explode from excitement, the boy took a few moments to breathe as he tried to calm down from the buzz of electricity that was jolting through his body. The past hour had gone and went so fast that he could hardly process any of it, all he knew was that it had been the happiest moment of his life.  

With a huge grin, he watched as the robots were escorted off stage by staff and taken to their individual show rooms for their meet and greet sessions. Lines were already starting to grow long. 

It was only then that Gregory realized that his mother was gone. He looked around with a frown, she had said something about a phone call but...that had been half an hour ago now. 

‘She must be waiting at the show room for me,’ Gregory concluded, beaming at the thought of finally meeting his hero in the flesh. Or...plastic. 

Shaking his head, he made a beeline past Chica’s room, where mostly little kids were sitting on the floor watching the animatronic as she played them a song while others had started a food fight with the leftover pizza and soda cans that had been lying around the room, making the parents and staff grimace as they tried to break it up. 

Monty’s room was a little more organized and catered more towards older children as the gator showed them how to get a hole in one with a little golf stand while others played on the arcade machine. This reminded Gregory that the golf course was next on his list. 

Roxanne’s room was very high energy as the wolf raced around with the other kids with driving wheels in their hands while making engine noises. Though when one tripped up, she immediately halted and gently picked the child up, reassuring him that “Even the most rockin’ superstars get hurt sometimes!” and carried him into the back area to where the medical staff resided with a worried mother in tow. 

Stopping to catch his breath, Gregory finally made it to Freddy’s room, gaping slightly when he saw the queue nearly reaching the end of the walkway. He couldn’t even see inside due to the mass of people gathered at the curtains, forcing him to back up a bit and climb up on a bench just to be able to get a look in. 

The room was painted red and blue to fit in with Freddy’s color scheme and decorated with bright lightning bolts and portraits of the bear himself. It was also the least cluttered as there were only a few bowling bowls, party hats and – of course – plenty of plushies to give away. But what caught Gregory’s eyes were the assortment of colorful drawings that had been halfhazardly pinned to the wall next to the make-up mirror. 

It was true then; he really did collect kids' drawings! 

Reaching into his own back-pocket, Gregory pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and opened it up, smiling a little when he looked upon his own masterpiece. All the animatronics were singing on a stage on top of the whole world, with Freddy towering over them wearing a crown and rainbow cape because why not?  

It had taken him hours and an absurd number of crayons that he had ‘taken’ from his classroom, so a selfish part of him hoped that Freddy would pin it above the rest. 

A flurry of movement in the crowd suddenly caught Gregory’s attention as the stewards moved them aside to let the animatronic move in. He felt himself get giddy when the bear greeted everyone and gave them a sign of the horns with his clawed hand, to which all the kids mimicked, including Gregory from all the way in the back. 

As the queue started to move along, Gregory couldn’t help but start to feel impatient. Where was his mom? He thought she knew how important this was to him. 

Forgiveness was suddenly starting to come in very short supply. 

With a cross of the arms and a small pout, he watched as Glamrock Freddy took photographs, played with kids and even recognized a regular and accepted a drawing from her, praising her for becoming more talented every day. 

Gregory’s chest tightened up a little at that. 

Frowning down at his own scribbles, he didn’t even notice the tall figure hiding behind the golden statue of Roxanne that was trying to get his attention. 

“Hey...! Hey Gregory!” A familiar voice hissed. 

Startled, he turned to see that tall rabbit lady from earlier waving and beckoning him over. Blinking, he took a moment to look around to see if anybody else had seen her, half-wondering if she was some kind of hallucination at this point. When she beckoned again, he tentatively walked over. 

Once again, she was hidden in the shadows, but the overhead lights made it a little easier to see more details of the suit, like the stitches that barely held the mismatched creams and beiges together along with a few patches of crosshatched red. It was like the whole thing had just been thrown together. 

“Uh...hey...”  

It took him a moment. 

“Vanny?” 

She gasped and gleefully put her hands up to her grinning mouth. 

“You remembered!”  

He forced a grin, trying to ignore the bristling hairs on the back of his neck. 

“Sure.” 

She paused and knelt down. 

“What’s wrong? You look a bit down.” 

This caught him by surprise. 

“Huh? No, I’m fine. Just...waiting.” 

Glancing back, he could see the crowds starting to dwindle as time went on, but still no sign of his mother. 

“Ooh! What’s that?” 

He looked down to where she was pointing and held up the piece of paper that he had been clutching a little too hard. 

“It’s...um...just a drawing I made...for...Freddy,” he meekly replied, his cheeks heating up. 

“Oh wow! Can I see?” 

The very question he was afraid of. But she was already holding out her hand, so he couldn’t just say no. 

She seemed to study it very closely when Gregory handed it over. He started to wonder if she was having to squint through the costume’s red eyes just to be able to see it. 

“This is so good, Gregory!” She gushed, holding it up as if to show it off to everybody else in the mall. “You’re super talented! Are you gonna be an artist when you grow up?” 

He looked down in embarrassment but couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. Despite how weird this lady was, she actually seemed pretty nice.  

“Um...I dunno. I like drawing so...maybe.” 

“You should definitely show it to Freddy, I bet he’d love it!” 

Gregory perked up at that, but frowned again as he looked back over to the show room. 

“I want to but I can’t yet.” 

“Why not?” Vanny asked. “Ya nervous?” 

That was true but he wasn’t about to admit it.  

“My mom has the ticket for the meet and greet but...she had to take some kinda phone call and hasn’t come back yet.” 

“Hasn’t...come back,” she repeated. 

As Gregory watched kids and parents come and go, he hadn’t noticed that Vanny was staring right at him until the silence between them grew uncomfortably long. But as he turned back to look at her, she stood up and offered her hand. 

“I know a way you can give it to him.” 

A little perturbed by her sudden shift in tone; he looked at her hand but didn’t take it. 

“Uh...how?” 

“The VIP room, silly!” She said, her chirpy voice returning once more. “You know that one up at Fazer Tag? I saw you looking at it earlier.” 

The one that was high up, he remembered. But... had she been watching him that whole time? 

“That’s where Freddy and the others go for the secret meet and greets, where they give you their undivided attention.” 

Gregory raised an eyebrow. 

“I... didn’t even know that was a thing.” 

“That’s cuz it’s secret!” 

Okay, well that made sense. 

“Usually only the rich kids get to go there but I think you’re much more deserving, Gregory,” she said, holding out her hand once again. “You only get today, right?” 

The boy looked over once more. Freddy was waving goodbye to the last of the children as the stewards drew the curtains. He had missed his chance. 

He looked back up at Vanny. 

“What about my mom?” 

The rabbit tilted her head. “I’ll notify the staff so they can let her know, then she’ll come pick you up when you’re ready, okay?” 

There was a moment of hesitation but he knew she was right. He only had today and nothing was going to stop him from getting what he wanted. 

Screw the rules.  

With a nod, Gregory took her hand and let her lead him away to the Fazer Tag arena, not noticing that his drawing had slipped from her grip and she had let it fall into a crumpled ball as they walked away. 

xxx

So let me know what y’all think! Would you like to see a part 2? :D

Edit: Part 2 is now available here!

[ask-rwby-multishipper]

Random truth: what gifts are you getting for the others for the holidays?

Name Randomizer: Pyrrha

Pyrrha: This is something I’ve been working on for a long time actually. Not just coming up with what to get everyone, but getting my outfit together...

Weiss: Wait, what outfit?

Pyrrha, blushing: Huh? Oh, no outfit, nothing.

Everyone: *stares at her*

Pyrrha: Uhm...you’ll have to wait and see until later...

Later...

Pyrrha, bursting into the room wearing a red coat, matching leggings, and winter cap, with a huge red bag over her shoulder: Happy Nondescript Winter Holiday!

Weiss: What the—

Ruby, gasping loudly: IT’S PYRRHA CLAUS!

Pyrrha: That’s right! And I’m here to give all the good boys, girls, and enbies their holiday presents!

Nora: But Pyrrha, you’re already a gift.

Pyrrha, blushing: Shut up and open your present. *hands her a wrapped box*

Nora: Ohh! *tears the box open frantically* No way! *pulls out a pink, yellow, green and maroon varsity jacket* Is...is this...?

Pyrrha, winking at her and opening her festive coat to reveal her own matching jacket: Don’t tell Jaune and Ren yet.

Nora: We finally got team jackets!!! *jumps at Pyrrha and smothers her with a hug* Thank you thank you thank you thank you!

Yang, crossing her arms, looking at Weiss: How come we don’t have team jackets?

Weiss, blushing: Since when is that a thing?

Ruby: I have a sewing machine. Say the word and provide the fabric and I will hyperfixate on it for eight hours straight.

Pyrrha, still with Nora hanging onto her: Speaking of which... *hands Ruby an envelope* For you!

Ruby: Ooooh. *rips open the envelop* A gift card to the fabric store?!

Pyrrha, grinning: For all your fabric needs.

Ruby, beaming: Thanks Pyrrha Claus—

Pyrrha: *cuts her off with a kiss to the forehead*

Ruby, blushing and grinning like a goof: Heheh...yeah...

Weiss, looking up at Pyrrha hopefully: Don’t I get a kis— I mean, a present?

Pyrrha: Of course you do! *hands her a box*

Blake, chuckling: What do you even get a spoiled rich girl as a gift?

Weiss: Hmph! *opens the present* It’s...a framed picture of me and Pyrrha. *shows it to the others: Pyrrha is hugging Weiss from behind, their smiling faces squished together awkwardly* I remember Nora took the picture and I begged her to delete it because I look so awkward.

Pyrrha, smiling bashfully: It’s one of my favorite pictures of you and me together, so...I thought I’d share it.

Weiss: Ohh... *looking at the picture again* We are pretty cute...

Blake: I stand corrected, that’s wholesome as fuck.

Weiss, grinning: Thank you so much, Pyrrha.

Pyrrha, kissing her forehead: Anything for you~

Weiss, blushing: Ohh...

Ruby, hugging her: Preemptive hug before you gay faint.

Weiss: Thank you.

Pyrrha, giggling at them before handing a gift to Blake: For you, Mx. Belladonna.

Blake, opening it to reveal several cat-ear-friendly beanies: Yessss! *puts one on* No more ear squish!

Yang, stars in her eyes: Oh my gods, you’ve got little ear cozies...

Pyrrha, giving Blake a cheek smooch before moving on to Yang: And for you! Well, you and Blake, but more specifically for you.

Yang, taking her gift: Hmm... *opens it to reveal a new Yellow motorcycle helmet, and a black helmet with cat ear spaces* No way! Theirs and hers bike helmets!

Blake, gasping and taking their helmet: No more ear squish!!!

Pyrrha, giggling: Now you two can go for joyrides safely. With proper safety equipment.

Yang, rubbing the back of her neck: You sound like my dad. But my dad’s way more annoying when he says it...

Pyrrha: Helmet hair is kinda hot, though. *shrugs*

Yang: Okay, yeah, I’m sold. Thank you, Pyrrha!

Blake, their helmet already on, their voice muffled: Thanks!

Yang: Your ears.

Pyrrha, smiling and kissing Yang’s cheek: No problem. *turns to Ilia* Your turn!

Ilia, turning pink and rubbing her elbow: Lemme guess, since I’m so gay I probably get, like, a coupon book full of “redeem for one free Pyrrha kiss” vouchers, huh? Not that I’m against that, to be fair...

Pyrrha, shrugging: That’s actually not a bad idea, but actually... *hands her a box* I got you a few other things.

Ilia, opening the box: Woah, this is a lot of stuff.

Pyrrha, smiling proudly: So I remember you talking about how your color changing skin poses some skin care challenges, so I tracked down some reptile-Faunus-friendly body wash and lotion. There’s some vegetarian cookbooks in there, some lesbian flag pins I found for you, and... *leans down toward her* Why give you a coupon book when I’ll kiss you just for asking? *kisses Ilia’s lips* Happy winter holiday~

Ilia, rainbowing: Pyrrha, oh my gods...

Pyrrha, giggling and turning to the next girl: Neon, if you can believe it, you were probably the easiest to shop for. *hands her a gift*

Neon: I must have a pretty recognizable style, huh? *opens her gift* Yes! Light-up cat ear headphones! *puts them on* I am sooo going to ruin my hearing with these. Thank you Pyrrha Claws! *nya~ ;3*

Pyrrha: Cute. *kisses her cheek*

Neon: OwO

Cinder: Did you just “owo” out loud?

Pyrrha: Team CENM, you three need winter clothing. *throws fluffy sweaters to all three of them* As sexy as you all are, if I see even a peek of midriff, collarbone, or upper arm while you’re outside, I will immediately drag you indoors and make you into a blanket burrito.

Emerald: Is that a promise?

Cinder, holding up a far-too-small sweater: I think I got Neo’s. *turns to Neo* Trade?

Neo, already wearing Cinder’s new sweater, which is three sizes too big for her: No 💕

Cinder, glaring: Neo—

Pyrrha, interrupting her with a kiss on the cheek: Happy winter holiday, Cinder!

Cinder, blushing: Oh...

Pyrrha, smiling: And now, Penny and Ciel! Combat skirts and stockings! *throws combat skirts and stockings at them*

Penny, eyes glowing in wonder: Sensational!

Ciel, grinning with a pair of stockings in hand: They’re so soft! Thank you, Pyrrha!

Pyrrha, kissing them both: Of course~ *turns to Coco and Velvet* You’ll never guess.

Coco: I hope you went with the obvious choice.

Velvet: Obvious choice?

Pyrrha, handing bags to Coco: Coffee. And more coffee. Aaannnnd more coffee!

Coco: Caffeeeeeine...

Pyrrha: And for you, Velvet... *hands her a bunny-ear-friendly beanie* No more ear squish!

Velvet: *gasp* It’s so cute!

Blake, pointing at her: Matchies!

Velvet, putting her new beanie on: Matchies!

Pyrrha: And finally, Harriet and Elm! *hands them both boxes*

Harriet, opening her box and grinning: New running shoes!

Pyrrha: Extra durable running shoes, since I know you go through a pair of shoes, like, every week.

Harriet: Finally! Shoes that won’t catch fire if I run too fast!

Elm, opening her present: Ohhh, muscle shirts to show off my muscles!

Pyrrha, grinning: I know you two love going to the gym, after all.

Harriet, hugging her: Thank you, Pyrrha.

Elm: Yeah, thanks, Pyr!

Everyone else: Thanks Pyrrha! *group hugs around Pyrrha*

Pyrrha, sighing happily: Another successful Nondescript Winter Holiday~

[fxcking-anon]

Fallingforyou

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

TW: Alcohol

Word Count: 3,749

A/N: I’m not sure what it is about this song but I’ve had it on repeat for the past few months. There’s something about it. Part of it definitely stems from the fact that no one has kissed me as the 1975 plays in the background. I wasn’t sure when I wanted this to happen but I just watched the episode where JJ and Will get married and it finally clicked. This is the perfect moment for that with Spence. Soft and romantic, that feeling you get after leaving a wedding and knowing that love is real because you’ve just been surrounded by so much of it.

lol so through the course of writing this, it just got longer and longer oops. 

----------

You tilted your head back laughing as Derek and Spencer spun you back and forth between the two of them as “I’ve Had the Time of My Life” played in the background. Penelope was singing drunkenly along, holding on to Rossi as she forced him to sway back and forth with her. 

“Hey babygirl,” Derek called out to Penelope, twirling you back into Spencer’s arms, “You wanna do the lift?” He started to back up, gesturing at her to run at him.

“Oh no, I’m not that drunk. These heels are not meant for running. Or sticking a landing. No way,” she said, opting instead to take Rossi’s hand and let him spin her into a slightly offbeat, step together move. 

You leaned your head on Spencer’s chest as you rocked slowly to the beat. All around you, your closest friends smiled and laughed and danced together. Despite the hell of the day before, everyone managed to pull through for JJ and Will. The happy couple were whispering to each other in the middle of the dance floor, caught up in their own little world. JJ’s fingers curled tightly around Will’s. It didn’t seem like either of them would be letting go for a long time. The events of yesterday seemed to remind them of that. 

“What’s going on up there?” Spencer asked you, lightly tapping your temple to get your attention. 

“Hmm?” You looked up at him, jostled slightly from your musings by the tap to your head.

“You okay?” He reiterated, searching your face for micro-expressions. 

You smiled up at him. “I’m really happy Spencer,” you told him, “It’s hard not to be. I’m with my family, aren’t I?” You giggled, unable to contain the unbridled happiness that was coursing through you. 

You looked around you. Over to one side, Beth was dancing with Jack as Hotch looked on fondly. Next to them, Henry had wriggled his way between Will and JJ. Will picked him up and the family started swaying and spinning together, laughing at Henry’s fist pumps to the slow music. On the other side, Penelope and Derek were (lousily) attempting a grapevine as Rossi and Emily seemed to pull out all the stops as they waltzed gracefully. Show offs. 

“You know, you guys are my best friends,” you said, looking back up at Spencer. “Truly, best in the whole world.”

As much as he tried to hide it, you clocked the millisecond of discomfort in his expression before he smiled at you again. You pushed it to the back of your mind. You weren’t going to let yourself go full profiler and ruin tonight for yourself. Tonight you were going to enjoy this moment with the people you held closest to your heart. Tomorrow you could analyze why Spencer didn’t like you referring to him so fondly. 

----------

You couldn’t guess the time if you tried as everyone started stumbling out of Rossi’s mansion. You could however, tell that you, along with most of the team, had a little bit too much to drink. 

“I’m calling cabs for all of you, you can come collect your keys tomorrow,” Rossi said, jangling Derek, Penelope, Emily and your keys in his hand.

“I’ll take them,” Spencer fake sighed, rolling his eyes before revealing a grin. “Okay, everyone in,” he said, unlocking his Volvo and waiting for everyone to situate themselves. You found yourself squished in between Emily and Derek as Penelope eagerly hopped in the passenger seat. “You aren’t buckled Y/N,” Spencer scolded, staring you down in the rear view window, waiting for you to secure yourself in the seat. 

You looked behind you, trying to find the seat belt. Coming up empty, you shot Spencer a quizzical look in the mirror. He unfastened his own belt to turn around towards you, reaching back to pull out the belt before securing it gently across you. 

You weren't sure if it was the alcohol, but Spencer’s hand seemed to linger at the point where the seat belt touched your hip. And for whatever reason, probably the alcohol, you wanted more contact. Sadly, Spencer turned back around abruptly to wrestle the volume dial away Penelope. 

“But this is my jam!” Penelope whined as Spencer lowered the volume back to where you could hear your own thoughts again. 

“I can’t drive if I can’t hear. Distracted driving is incredibly dangerous-” 

“Just drive Pretty Boy, I’ve got a hot lady waiting for me at home,” Derek interrupted Spencer’s tangent and coincidentally caught the attention of the three women in the car. 

“Who? What woman? Who?” Penelope instantly asks, poking Derek in the leg as best she could from her position in the passenger seat. You and Emily both stared at him quizzically. You brought out your ‘tell me more’ elbow as Emily wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. 

“Her name is My Bed and her friend, My Pillow, is also anxiously awaiting my return so please, step on it,” Derek said, leaving the girls in various states of shock and giggles. 

Spencer shifted the car into drive and slowly pulled out, stepping on it as much as one can while staying within the 25 mile per hour residential limit of the law. 

----------

You waved goodbye to Penelope as she stepped into the doorway of her apartment complex before settling yourself in the front seat. As you buckled and reclined your seat a few degrees, you felt Spencer’s eyes on you. “Are you alright?” he asked. 

“I’m fine,” you assured him, “I just get a little bit sick in the back of cars. It’s a little worse from the drinks.” You noticed Spencer immediately tense. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to be sick. I’m a big girl, I can hold my liquor.”

You watched as his shoulders relaxed as he turned back towards the road. For as uptight as Spencer seemed about following the rules of the road, he looked surprisingly relaxed as he drove through the city streets. You attributed part of it to the lack of traffic at this early hour of the morning. Even so, seeing Spencer doing something as simple as driving one handed as the other rested on the gear shift sent a slight shiver down your spine. It was wildly attractive. 

As he slowed down for a stop light, he looked over at you again. “What’s going on up there?” he asked, repeating his words from earlier that night. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or if his gaze was really as intense as it felt, boring holes into you. 

“It’s just...” you start, trailing off for a moment, trying to find the right words. “We don’t get a lot of happy time. As tired as I am and as much as these shoes are killing me, I’d do anything to be able to live in tonight forever. With all of you. You guys are my closest friends in the world and I watch as we all struggle to find the light after day in and day out of tragedy. When we get moments like this, it’s hard when they’re over.” You hadn’t meant to get so deep so quickly. You hadn’t meant to bare your soul like that in front of Spencer. Not that you didn’t trust him implicitly, you just knew that intense emotional expression could sometimes overwhelm him. Leave him unsure of how to proceed. 

“Yeah, I know,” he agreed simply, turning back to the road as the light turned green. “It’s nice to forget for a while.”

The drive continued in comfortable silence. Your eyes closed, the streetlamps agitating your oncoming migraine as soft classical music played through the sound system.

“What song is this? I’m assuming Beethoven, right?” you asked.

“You would be correct,” you could hear Spencer’s smile in his response and almost opened your eyes to see it. “It’s Piano Concerto Number 5 in E flat major.” The music swelled as he spoke before a decrescendo to a soft, simplistic melody again. It took everything in your power to subdue your Drunk Brain. Between the music, his one hand grip of the steering wheel, the neon lights of downtown and the alcohol in your system you wanted to just lean over and-

No. This was Spencer. Spencer deserved better than subpar drunk roadhead. 

You opened your eyes wide at that realization, sitting up straight before being choked out by the seat belt's emergency locking mechanism. Spencer’s attention snapped to you as you coughed violently, attempting to unlock the mechanism so you could lean forward onto your knees.

“Woah, woah, Y/N what happened?” The concern was clear in Spencer’s voice. “We’re at your apartment, are you okay to go up?”

“I’m-” you choked out another cough, finally feeling clear enough to take a normal breath in. “I’m okay. I just…” you trailed off, trying to think of anything to say besides ‘I got freaked out by how much I wanted to suck you off because I know we aren’t like that’.

Spencer placed the car in park and turned off the engine before stepping out of the vehicle. He rounded the front of the car before opening your door and squatting besides you. “Let me get that,” he said, releasing you from your seat belt. Your chest was still heaving which certainly didn’t help how flustered you could feel yourself getting from how close Spencer was to you. The concern in his eyes only made you more attracted in that moment and it took everything you had to remind yourself that you are part of a team of profilers. There was no getting out of this hole you dug yourself into tonight. 

“Thank you,” you managed to whisper as you took his hand and stepped out of the car. You hadn’t realized how much Spencer had allowed skin to skin contact tonight. You knew that it was hard for him to avoid hyperfixation on how many germs were passed every time someone initiated skin to skin contact. Yet he danced with you, touched your face, and was now taking your hand. You wanted to read deeper, to profile this simple change, but your addled brain would not cooperate with you at the moment. 

As you stood up, the world spun. Sitting, you felt buzzed. Standing, however, it took you a moment to realize that Spencer had wrapped an arm around your waist to bring you back to an upright position. Staring hard, his face came into clearer focus. 

“You’re drunk,” he stated simply. You couldn’t help but giggle. He wasn’t wrong. You caught him smiling back at you before turning his face away and replacing it with a more impassive stare. 

----------

Lucky for the two of you, your apartment complex had recently fixed the elevator that had been broken for the past six months. Otherwise, maneuvering you back to your apartment would have been far more difficult. As you approached your door, you felt a tug on your handbag. Spencer gently removed it from your grip and fished out your keys, unlocking the apartment door before guiding you inside. 

Spencer had never been inside your space before. There was no reason for him to. Hotch had stopped by once before to drop off case files when you were sick but other than that, no one from the team had been here. And Hotch didn’t even come inside. 

You studied his face, doing your best to pick up his micro-expressions as he looked around your small living space. There wasn’t much. A worn, cushy couch, two oversized arm chairs, a stack of books on an end table and a large collection of half dead plants. Spencer guided you to one of the arm chairs before taking a closer look at one of your ivy plants. 

“You do know that overwatering kills just as much as underwatering, right?” Spencer said, clearly messing with you. 

You turned to look at him as he took one of the ivy leaves between his fingers.

“Eugene is just temperamental,” you countered, frowning at the plant.

“You named them?”

“Of course,” you huffed, pulling yourself up to grab a glass of water, “I can’t just refer to it as Hedera Helix all the time. I have another, they need a distinction. So I name them.” You made your way slowly to the kitchen, hearing Spencer follow you just closely enough that he could stabilize you if you teetered again. You pulled your favorite mug out of the cupboard before filling it with water. 

“It’s late,” Spencer said, nodding his head to the time displayed on your stove. 3:37. 

You immediately felt a wave of regret crash into you. You hadn’t intended on being so needy tonight. It was late. And here Spencer was, watching over your drunk, bumbling self instead of going home and getting some sleep. 

“I probably wouldn’t be asleep anyways, really, don’t worry about it,” Spencer said, taking quick note of your change in demeanor. 

“You can go,” you said, turning your attention back to your mug. “Really, thank you for everything tonight but it is late.”

“Y/N…” Spencer started, crouching a bit to get back in your line of vision, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be. If you want me to leave, I will. But don’t think that I’m here against my will. Okay?”

You nodded softly. You wanted him to stay. You wanted him to be here in the morning when you woke up. You wanted so very much more from him in that moment. “Would you…” you faltered, second guessing your decision.

“Would I what, Y/N?” Spencer asked softly.

“Would you stay? I have a guest room and the sheets are clean and I understand if it’s weird because you’ve never been here before and now I’m trying to drag you into an unwanted weird sleepover and I’m drunk and you’re not and it’s late and you should really-”

You froze as Spencer let out a little laugh. 

“I don’t mind staying. Sometimes it’s nice not to have to go home to an empty apartment after nights like this,” he said. Your eyes widened for a moment and you could tell he realized the unintentional subtext of his comment. “No! Not like that! I just meant that- I mean- Tonight was nice! And happy! And sometimes, being alone…” he trailed off.

You knew what he meant. Sometimes, being alone just brings all the terror back. And sometimes, after a night with the people who mean the most to you, who remind you that there’s good in this world, you just aren’t ready for that to end. 

“I have some men’s sweats if you want to change,” you offered. Spencer raised his eyebrows at you. “I bought them. I like sleeping in oversized sweats, I don’t have enough time to be collecting them from random guys. Get your head out of the gutter Dr. Reid,” you scolded him, laughing.

You made your way to your bedroom, only stumbling slightly, and retrieved a pair of grey sweats along with an old, 2xl 5k t-shirt you got when you used to run. You handed them to Spencer before showing him to the guest bedroom. “Goodnight Spence,” you said.

“Goodnight Y/N, sleep well,” he replied, waiting for you to shut the door before he started changing. 

You closed the door before returning to your own bedroom. You closed the door and leaned against it, doing everything in your power not to walk back into the guest room and kiss him. Or ask him to do unspeakable things to you. You knew he wouldn’t, mostly because he’d ramble off that intoxicated consent is not consent and probably something about respecting you and your professional relationship too much blah blah blah. Sighing, you went to unzip your dress to change into pajamas. 

No matter how much you twisted your body, the zipper was just out of reach, laying directly in the space between your flailing hands. Shit. 

Moments later, you found yourself outside of the guest bedroom, knocking gently on the door.

“Spence?” 

The door swung open and it took everything you had not to gasp. The grey sweatpants hung low on his hips and the t-shirt clung ever so slightly to his frame. You heard Spencer clear his throat and your eyes shot up to meet his. He caught you staring.

“Can you help me?” you asked, trying to distract from your staring. You turned around and lifted your hair, hoping he’d get the message and help with the zipper. Luckily, he did. Chills ran up your spine as he slowly pulled it down, just enough so you could reach it yourself. He was always so respectful, especially when you were as drunk as you currently were.

“Thanks,” you whispered, moving towards your bedroom door.

“Sweet dreams,”

Your heart fluttered again as you made it back to your room without embarrassing yourself any further. Now freed from the cursed dress, you took no time in removing your makeup and throwing on an old shirt. Almost as soon as your head hit the pillow, you were drifting off to sleep.

----------

A small crash in the kitchen woke you up. You sat straight up in bed, reaching for the gun in your bedside table drawer. Slowly, you peaked your head out of your room, keeping your gun extended as you swept the hallway. Your head was pounding and fuzzy, definitely from the alcohol. Penelope and you should never be allowed to drink together again. She always talks you into doing too many shots. Quietly, you maneuvered yourself into the living space of the apartment, squinting against the bright light streaming in your curtains. And then you smelled...coffee? You lowered your gun as you crept towards the kitchen.

“Oh shoot. Shoot shoot shoot son of a-” a hushed voice came from the kitchen, freezing as you rounded the corner. Spencer sat on the floor, picking up the remains of an old coffee mug. 

“Spencer?” you said, trying to piece together the flashes of memory you had from the night before.

“I’m so sorry!” he blurted out. “I was trying to be quiet and then I knocked over the mug. I just know coffee usually helps with hangovers and you had a lot to drink last night and-you have a gun?”

“You’re in my apartment?” you asked, attempting to process what he was saying along with the scene in front of you. Spencer stood up, stretching slightly and revealing a small strip of skin in between one of your old t-shirts and a pair of your oversized sweats. That certainly didn’t help you focus on deciphering what was going on.

“You asked me to stay last night. I hope it’s okay that I did?” Spencer’s eyes were trained on your face, attempting to analyze your reaction. You sighed, a few pieces of last night fitting together. You secured the safety on your glock before sitting it on the counter.

“Of course it’s okay Spence. I’m just trying to put everything together, that’s all,” you assured him, moving to grab the dustpan out of a cabinet and sweep up the mug remains.

“I’m sorry about the mug,” he repeated. You laughed. It was one of the generic FBI mugs they gave out when they forced you to go to seminars. 

“Spence, it’s fine. Trust me, it wasn’t even in my top ten favorite mugs,” you said, reaching into the cupboard for another. “Here, try not to drop this one.” You handed him a different mug.

You watched as he read the text under his breath. “How does Pavlov keep his hair so shiny? He conditions it…” Spencer looked at you with a very dry expression as he tried not to laugh. “Pavlov puns? Really?”

“You’re not the only one who can make bad jokes. Now, the creamer should be on the door, spoons are in that drawer,” you said, pointing to the drawer a little to his left, “and I keep sugar cubes in that cabinet, look to the right.” You poured yourself a cup of black coffee before leaning against the counter and taking a sip. Spencer made his coffee too and you both stood in comfortable silence, drinking your coffee.

“Thank you,” you finally said, avoiding Spencer’s eyes as you swirled your coffee around the mug. “You didn’t have to do any of that last night, you’re a really good friend. I’m so lucky to have you.” You met his eyes, noting...something off? You couldn’t place it. You raised a brow at him.

He sighed and looked away, trying to brush off the subject. You weren’t having it.

“Talk to me,” you coaxed, placing your hand over his. You expected him to move. You realized after you did it that you were pushing a physical boundary with him. Guilt began to flood you until you realized, he didn’t move. You didn’t withdraw his hand or flinch. Instead, he stretched his fingers ever so slightly under your touch so they brushed against your palm. “Spence?”

“I- Y/N, I value you so much,” he started.

“Spence, I know you do-”

“And I don’t want you to think I’m trying to make you feel like you owe me or anything for being nice to you last night-”

“Spence…?”

“I don’t want to just be your friend,” he sputtered out.

Oh. Oh. You looked at him, wide eyed, trying to figure out if he really meant what you thought he meant.

“I’m sorry, forget it,” he immediately recanted, placing his mug down on the counter. “I should go,”

You caught his arm as he tried to move past you. Your hand ran gently up his chest, causing little goosebumps to pop up on his arms. His fingers barely brushed your thighs as they ghosted up them. His head leaned into the crook of your neck. “I don’t want to be your friend, Y/N,” he breathed against the sensitive skin of your neck. “I want to be able to do this instead.” He pressed his lips gently to your neck, kissing it once. 

It felt like all the air left your lungs the moment his lips touched you. You could feel him chuckle against your neck at your reaction. He kissed your neck again, more intensely this time. You melted into his arms as he peppered your neck with kisses. 

“Spencer,” you breathed out, causing him to lift his head from your neck.

“Yes?” 

“Kiss me.”

[neon-danger]

okay so I’ve been on an abhorrently evil supervillain route in baldurs gate right and like no I don’t need jalex to be murder boyfriends but the angst of good aligned durge is so ????

[reversecreek]

struts onto the dash carrying this deliriously wriggling little elf in my arms like a swaddled bebe......... they’re genuinely my oldest muse of all time i think i created them when i was like. 13 possibly. n i haven’t written them in Years but. i’m literally so excited to jst vibrating w muse. smiles at u all demurely..... they have risen. u can find their pinterest here n their playlist here.

* alana champion, nonbinary + they/them | you know nyla palmer, right? they’re twenty-two, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, eight months? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to 6669 (i don’t know if you know) by neon indian like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole a two headed doll of a prairie girl with stitched on rabbit ears and butterfly wings, befriending shadow puppets & finding god with your eyes open underwater in a public pool you broke into thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is march 2nd, so they’re a pisces, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt she/her  )

HISTORY:

was born in georgiaaaa georgiaaaa (phoebe bridgers voice holds my bang...) to a vry honest hard working man named george (omgggg he’s called GEORGE and he’s from GEORGIA? ahaaaaa fuckk ur jestinggg) nd a woman who did her best named pamela..... george worked on a construction site n pamela was a pharmacist..... their house was this small rickety white thing with a wrap around porch n a very rabid overgrown garden tht kind of looked like the earth ws trying to reclaim it bc nobody ever hd the time or motivation to mow the lawn.... there ws literally a piece of fold out furniture just entirely submerged by weeds n foliage

nyla ws always closest w their dad george..... he hd this way of looking at the world tht was seeing the best in all of it.... he took them on long walks where he talked abt how u have to respect the trees bc they’re breathing fr us n we’re breathing fr them..... he hd a strange whimsical sense of humour n a gnome alter ego called grundlebolt who always tickled them..... in a way this closeness created a distance between nyla n their mother but not so much that it ws rly a problem. just enough tht nyla sometimes waited until their mother ws out of eye n ear shot to tell their dad they loved him bc they didn’t wna make her sad >_>

(mental health, death & grief tw) pamela always struggled w her mental health but george ws great n understanding n knew how to help her thru this... nyla didn’t get it too greatly at a very young age bt they knew their mum got “the sads” sometimes (how their dad wld explain tht she needed to lay down in the quiet for a while or why she’d stood at the stove n let the dinner burn until the smoke detector went off without doing anything abt it). when nyla was 14 they got home one day to a police car in the driveway n came prancing in exuberantly as they always did. immediately hugged the legs of an officer bc this is hw they wld greet everyone they ever met. they only realised something was wrong when they let go n saw their mum sat at the table crying. essentially there ws an accident at the construction site george worked at n :/ yeah. 

(jst mental health & grief tw now) this rly had an intense ripple effect on everyone tbh. pamela’s mental health deteriorated quite a lot without george there as her rock n nyla sort of had to step in as best they cld but it was....... hard. some days she ws better bt some days nyla had to sit her in the bath n stroke a wet sponge over her back bc they didn’t know how else to calm her down. nyla always had a very overactive imagination which george encouraged bt it ws like. losing him rly opened a window in nyla’s head n all rationality went floating out of it. their dreams seemed more real than being awake. fantasy wasn’t jst the way they coped bt it was the way they thought n the way they saw. everything on earth was alive. the trees n the clouds n the wall with a brick missing at the bottom of her road n especially their dad. their dad was alive in everything in nyla’s head. the sun shining extra bright in the morning was george. ponds were a veil they could dunk her head under and find george waiting on the other side. reality rly just pulled the plug n said bye tbh n they were ok w that <3

(abuse implied tw) their mum remarried too fast to a man named stephen n it was jst not a good arrangement. he was Not a nice man. i won’t go into this but home wasn’t a nice place for nyla any more n after a couple of yrs stephen wound up asking them to leave n their mum said nothing to contradict tht. there’s more to this bt long story short nyla left <3

(drugs tw) they couch surfed fr a while before settling living w their best friend. they got up to like... all sorts of trouble n grew up far too fast. nyla’s lack of sense n realism hd a habit of getting them into some sticky situations n these few yrs were a rollercoaster where they got by on the skin of their teeth. when they think of high skl they think of gravel and skinned knees and sucking sherbet dunkers to ignore the taste of pennies in ur mouth and getting lost in the woods a lot bc they’d take FAR too many drugs n be lead astray having conversations with kind trees whose branches held their hands

(drug mention) got by on odd jobs like making candles n selling them at market stalls. leaf blowing at cemeteries. face painting fr children’s parties (where they were blatantly high). random stuff. all over the place. in this time them n their best friend also hd a sugar daddy named tony who always wore very impressive colour block suits n mink stoles n jewelled fedoras n hd a swanky apartment w marble floors. rly just. surreal. lots of strange stories frm this time.

things kind of blew up in their friendship group n they fell out w their best friend raya bc she slept w this guy aj who nyla hd been madly in love w for yrs.... he was a Stinker n honestly so ws their best friend so good riddance i say bt obviously it felt like having their entire world flipped upside dwn fr nyla.... they split after this came out bc they just did Not want to b around these ppl any more n they decided to leave w this guy frm a band they barely knew tht much save fr a one night stand to tour w them..... this ws another whirlwind. jst chock full of them. it ws similar to being on a teacup ride at a carnival n spinning round n round n only knowing u were surrounded by lots of lights. tht’s how they’d best describe their time on tour.

SO in terms of them coming to irving 8 months ago they came w the band.... they honestly did pretty well on tour n wound up renting a big beach house on dorado as a kind of “retreat” sort of place fr them to shack up in while they worked on writing and recording their first big studio album (they gt signed w a label so it’s all vry exciting stuff). nyla among like 3 others were allowed to stay w them too bc they hd a lot of fun on tour. literally jst. taken on as professional groupies essentially. nyla loved it bc they’d never seen the ocean n when they first got there they jst threw off all their clothes n ran straight into the water. it was 3pm on a tuesday afternoon. they got arrested fr public indecency n didn’t get why bc they were like but i just wanted to hug the ocean u silly little oinker? i picture the beach house as like. the loudest one on dorado.... comes alive like a jungle at night..... they r probably bad neighbours. anyway. onto personality puts hand on hip.

PERSONALITY:

sets out patio furniture on someone else’s lawn n jst takes a seat n leans back like ahhhhh vat a nice day to be alive ya! (swedish accent suddenly bc they think it’s fun). they come out n start yelling n they’re jst so confused they’re like hey wat’s the big idea hey wat’s go on here why u angies why this happen?

likes drawing imaginary veins over their arms in all different colour blue pens in a sudden fit of hyperfixation n then forgets all abt it n goes out like tht n scares several townsfolk bt they’re oblivious they’re jst in her own world loving life already onto the next fixation. has many many different fads like this. one day will jst start snipping up a bunch of magazines bc they’re like EYES ARE COOL N THEY SEE EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :P n they’ll stick a bunch of them over their wall n then forget they was doing that n leap onto the next. quite a pattern. bt they love the vein thing a lot it makes them feel like a walking planetarium like they have their own constellations

sometimes jst doesn’t make sense. they’re honestly kind of strange. pops up in places like they suddenly materialised there n it’s like how did u get there where have u been when were u last seen are u ok. has the energy of an ancient deity frm deep in a mountain cave n an ambiguous forest sprite all at once..... talks shit honestly. abt anything n everything. sometimes outrageous. sometimes plain incoherent. like what are u talking about? i dnt kno. even i dnt kno sometimes.

luvs stick n pokes will let anyone tattoo whatever they want on them for the price of a gummy bear kindly placed onto their tongue n swallowed whole

has this obsession w being underwater w their eyes open luvs it. calls it their tadpole time. runs baths just to lie there blinking looking around n drifting her arms. best friends w the bottom of any local swimming pool n hs probably given it a quick kiss so it knows they’re bff’s n then got sick bc there’s sm germs in a public pool. says the kgb probably poisoned their oatmeal n r finally here to deliver on their promise n THAT’S why they got sick unrelated to the pool incident. what promise? noone knows.

unclear if they believe what they say or if they jst has a very expanded sense of humour where they nvr let on if they’re joking.... lines r blurred a lot..... 

loves excitedly shouting things. sometimes just screams at the sky bc they say it’s good to let the creatures in ur belly fly out every once in a while otherwise their wings get sore.

(drugs tw) still does an excessive amt of hallucinogens n it kind of shows. very bad fr their brain bt we’re going to ignore it.

dresses fun n strange n eccentric n careless. loves to experiment. does nt care abt what’s considered to be societally appropriate. living in their own world.

sleeps around a lot... jst doesn’t rly see sex as a big deal.... very free w themselves in that way..... sometimes greets their friends w a kiss on the lips they’re like awww :) kisses <3 when they run into them in the middle of the cereal aisle n then pulls away n suddenly breaks into a box tht has a free toy in it bc it’s a banana with googly eyes n that’s the best thing they’ve ever heard in their LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! n isn’t he so HANDSOME????? enchante indeed my good sir ;)... gives the toy a kiss too.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

other groupies of the band: self explanatory a little.... i dnt have a name for the band yet bt all can b worked out..... i picture them as kind of. not that nice but like. there for a good time........ rock genre.... bit chaotic...... to say the least........ they dnt have to have come there w the band like nyla n the others they cld have been adopted in their time there.... whoever wld b wild n down fr a good time <3

chaotic trash goblin friends: idk what this title rly means it just came to me in a vision....... jst ppl tht r rly kind of off the rails n don’t care abt anything...... they r who nyla tends to mesh very well w......... they rly r living in their own world n by their own rules n they like ppl who do this too <3 inevitably they get up to no good n party far too much...... cld be angst to this if they enable each other’s bad habits...... world’s our oyster. opens my office door. let’s talk abt it.

nyla set up camp on their front lawn: maybe jst w a fold out chair. maybe w a literal pop up tent w someone else too. genuinely so bizarre of them bt that’s what we’re dealing with. they poke their head into the tent n nyla’s lying down crunching on a cracker crumbs over their tits n they just hold it out to them nt even fully consumed n are like hey polly want a cracker? :)

they responded to her craigslist ad: they posted one saying they cld cleanse their house of demonic energy bc they’re an all seeing eye in touch w the spirits. this is a lie. they came n waved sage around n did a little dance as they did it w bird sounds playing on a special cd they brought fr the occasion (had weird indistinct doodles over the case it ws brought in) n then ws like OOH! scary.... n jumped at something in the hall. they go in thinking maybe they’ve seen a ghost bt they just were startled by their own reflection in a mirror n is like. scary mirror placement...... might wna reconsider that........ they charge them merely 10 dollars fr their time n is like this was so fun we shd do it again some time :) also i think u have mould on ur bathroom tile! vanishes. they dnt recall them ever going to the bathroom.

came knocking asking for items for a garage sale: yes. u heard that right. they’re asking for ur muses things to set up their own garage sale. selling items that do not belong to them. they think this is a genius business strategy n don’t understand why ppl think this is so strange or why they cant just ask ppl to donate them things to sell bc hey they’re an entrepreneur? they even had a pencil behind their ear when they knocked on the door so why aren’t ppl taking their business seriously? probably got distracted several times trying to explain their pitch n chattered abt random other things instead.

honestly anything... fwbs... flings... good influence... someone who cnt stand the fact they’re barely coherent.... someone they stopped on the street one day n asked for their opinion on water beds.... we cn do literally anything. fling ur chara my way n we can talk.

[illuminatvm]

INTRODUCE YOURSELF

Hello! I’m V, she/her, 25, EST, aquarius sun with an aries moon and rising. dumb as hell, illiterate as fuck. hobbies include buying books and never reading them, crying over the fact that i can't travel right now, and being consistently inconsistent with a hyperfixation.

DESCRIBE YOURSELF AS A WRITING PARTNER

oooh! okay, so i like to think i’m pretty laid back but that’s when i’ve gotten through all the nitty gritty of plotting. I love figuring out details and timelines, trading headcanons back and forth and really digging deep into a character and pushing their morals and beliefs and connections to others. I’m also a hoe for the aesthetique and love sending off musing inspo or instagram posts and quizzes between heart-wrenching angst. My writing style tends to veer towards the introspective prose at its best and at its most direct will focus on actions instead— which makes sense when my favourite threads to write are either emotionally harrowing or big fight scenes.

WHO ARE YOUR CHARACTERS?

𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡

Faded mauve and golden gray // a soft voice in a nearly-gone memory // perfectly made earl gray tea // long-gone chateaus and gilded walls // heavy silk and creamy marble // eyes so blue you’ll drown // the safest you’ve felt in years // curated clutter // chiffon cake and pearls // peony-fragile wings // breathless laughter // subtle power // smiles are merely animals baring their teeth

Species: guardian angel

Age: Appears to be in her early/mid-thirties, dates back to the 1400’s

Occupation: real estate developer. 1% for the planet board member. LVMH shareholder

Spoken languages: The better question is, what language does she not know?

Current place of residence: a penthouse suite in downtown seattle

Time in Seattle: 10 years

𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐀𝐲ş𝐞𝐠ü𝐥 𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐥

welcome to the club // deep crimson and glittering gold // the overwhelming ache of melancholia // neon lights and leather jackets // a life in the shadows // golden rings twisting with worry // sharp eyeliner or none at all // longing to belong // lithe hands of creation // more blankets than you need // starlight is the best light // half-truths and sharp knives // laughter that shakes your being // not dead yet barely alive

Species: shadow-graced

Age: 28. became shadow-graced at 24.

Occupation: jeweler. small-business owner

Spoken languages: English, Turkish, Italian  

Current place of residence: apartment in capitol hill

Time in Seattle: four years

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐢

half-finished lattes // black t-shirts // empty mirrors // cracked book bindings // piles of coffee beans // hair pomade // lingering hugs // tired eyes // chocolate fondue // cloud couches // a labyrinth in human-form // a smoke filled chest // mulberry and cedar // old leather // messy hair // a watch glinting in the light // wolfish grins // early mornings and late nights // commanding attention

Species: vampire

Age: appears to be in mid-thirties. At the age of 35. Born in 1820.

Occupation: owner of Regime du Matin, independent bookstore + cafe

Spoken languages: English, Italian, French, German, Russian  

Current place of residence: top floor of Regime du Matin

Time in Seattle: two years

PLOT IDEAS / WANTED CONNECTIONS

Annora’s plot/wanted dynamics page

Feray’s plot/wanted dynamics page (coming tonight, i’m just being finicky)

Carmine’s plot/wanted dynamics page

PRESENT HEADCANONS

𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐚

To have lived for so long is both a blessing and curse. She remembers when palaces were built and bitterly recalls wars, can never hide the regret upon her features when she thinks of the fall of kingdoms and losses of beauty and majesty and brilliant minds. Devotion, steadfastness has matured, has evolved in the modern world and so too has Annora. Nowadays, you might see her working not merely to protect the people, but the place they inhabit. Technology and the divine have never been meant to mingle, but within her limits she involves herself with innovation— for the good of humanity. Of course, she is careful to remain in certain obscurity. Annora Leigh to mortals is a name forgettable and a face hardly seen. The world can not be saved by a single guardian angel, but she has not lived for so long that she can not try.

She likes to be busy, and she is. It isn’t uncommon for Annora to be in one city one day, then another the next. How she’s in Seattle continues to confuse the many as most of her real estate projects are on the eastern coast of the United States and Europe. But, she is here, and so far there are no signs of her leaving. An angel such as she isn’t so afraid of roaming the streets alone, not when her angelic lineage is so potent. If she isn’t working, she’s often volunteering, or spending time with those she considers her family— mortal or otherwise. If she could split herself into a legion, she could. Unfortunately, however, she is only one. Though that’s never quite stopped her from getting her way.

𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐲

She’d nearly died at the age of twenty-four while in London. In the years since, she and the entity she is bound to have settled here in Seattle, reverting to her birth-given name as she rediscovers herself in this new life, refining a new hobby of jewelry-making as she continues with a more quiet and subdued existence. Her workshop exists above the place where humans and supernatural-alike mingle, a club known for pleasure and indulgence. Lovers do no exist, friendships are distant if not fleeting. A love like her parents’ seems like an impossibility to her now. Her sins are her own, and watching love be wiped away by rage and betrayal was more than enough to cast herself away from the intimacy of knowing and being known. People couldn’t lose you, nor could you lose people if you weren’t present long enough for it to matter.

Though she lives in Capitol Hill, there are many days (and nights) that she’ll not stumble home until late. Her ties to the being that saved her from the brink of death are strangely pulled taut— so while her jewelry workshop (think brands like Sofia Zakia or Tippy Taste or Borcik Jewelry) and small storefront exists on the street level, an exclusive club of debauchery and sin exists below, its hours running until nearly dawn. Sometimes, you’ll find her posing as a bar girl, rarely will you see her indulging with or without the one who chose her for a life of the shadow-graced. But, she is loyal and indebted to them, and luckily in Seattle, everything is within arms reach.

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

Within him lies the great desire of perpetual warmth, and the ability to give that same warmth to others. That is what the cozy walls of his cafes evoke, what seeps from the man that seems wrapped in tarragon and cinnamon. No, he doesn’t have a girlfriend. Not when the last had left him so cold that he’d felt frozen from the inside out. The past few decades have been spent perfecting his craft, doing everything to feel warm and alive — from coffee, to spontaneous relocations, Carmine’s pursuit of never ending fire is never over. Perhaps there will be something, someone that will finally cause him to burn, to smolder brightly even in the light forever, something that’ll bring the restlessness within him to settle into sincere warmth. Or maybe he won’t, and he’ll lose his spark and suffer from an endless cold for the rest of his days.

Business as usual. The cafe caters to both humans and supernatural beings alike. However, humans only know of the main floor and upper two floors of the building. Supernatural creatures are able to access the two lower levels and the second-highest level of the cafe. Carmine lives on the uppermost floor, although all visitors have access to the roof. He’s far more content with his life here in Seattle than he assumed he would be. Although it’s largely in part to the environment he’s created for himself: not a bar, but a place to enjoy drinks and be with friends, curl up by a fire and get lost in a book that either you’d brought yourself or have pulled off of a shelf. He’s been known to be found lazing in the plush couches instead of returning to his own floor, but all staff members suggest you run when he picks up the guitar. The man has absolutely no musical talent. Please don’t ask him to sing.

DO YOU HAVE ANY INSPIRATIONS FOR YOUR MUSES 

𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐚'𝐬 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐲'𝐬 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

[neon-danger]

Hey Why Did My Last Post Get Marked As Mature

[neon-danger]

Neon You Need To Finish Your Last Five Hyperfixation Works Before You Start A New One