#never write ship fic before

[goodolddumbbanana]

A friendly hang out (Molten x Sun platonic crackship)

Sumary: They are friends. Or Molten totally nail Sun as his friend. And Sun right now, still a litle bit awakard. Sun still feels uncomfortable when someone cares about him. He likes Molten and also want to be friendly and befriend with the bear. But old habits die hard and sometimes, Sun still feels uncertain whether Molten will be like everyone else, leaving him or stabbing him in the back.

Daycare was as cheerful and lively as ever. The lively sound of music hit Molten's ears, as the bear animatronic moved inside the door.

The children had all gone home, leaving only Sun to clean up.

'What a mess. Oh my god...' Even from afar, Molten could hear Sun's groans. The sun model sat on the ground, surrounded by scattered barrels. The faint scent of antiseptic wafted to the tip of Molten's nose.

Molten's orange-gray fur was even reflected on the plastic, glistening under the bright lights.

'How much detergent did Sun use? '

Molten tilted his head. His metal body covered in wires clanked, yet Sun had yet to notice him behind. A focus and joy that Molten rarely had the chance to witness, especially when the yellow animatronic was always in a state of anxiety or depression.

“Hmm… Argh!! Molten!!? You scared the crap out of me!!” Sun was startled and almost jumped back. An overly dramatic expression appeared on Sun’s face, and their hands unconsciously folded as if to cover their faces.

“Hello, Sun.” Molten replied cheerfully, waving his claws. “Do you want to hang out?”

“Go out?” Sun straightened up, looking puzzled. They shook their heads at him with helpless expressions, and as if they couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“But why, Molten?! I'm kinda busy right now.. and…”

Sun’s hands waved in the air, as if Molten had turned on some kind of anxiety switch in Sun.

“But you have been so busy lately. I just want you to relax a little bit. Is that not okay, Sun?” Molten lowered his head, his claws poking at each other.

“Y–Yes! Of course it’s okay. It’s just… there are people who are busier than me, like Solar, Moon… Laying around just feels wrong… you know.” Sun stuttered, looking more and more like they were about to scream, or faint. “I just want to get out of my head by doing the things I can do the best.” Sun opposes weakly, even though he seems like he didn’t charge for like a couple days. 

Molten genuinely liked Moon. He liked Solar too. They were good people, and they had both helped him a lot. Moon and the Creator had helped him fix his software, and Solar had given him a new body. 

But it was Sun who had given him a little faith into the future, and it was him who truly asked what he wanted or his purpose was. Because if it weren't for Sun, he would still be trapped in Moon's cage, lost in the curse the Creators had placed on him, with a pain of emptiness that could only be released by catching Ruin.

Because Sun looked like a sinking ship patched up with duct tape but still able to survive countless storms. Because Sun knew what it felt like to put all his effort into a meaningless goal, only to get nothing in return, just like Molten had when he sent Ruin into the abyss.

Because Sun was a good person, and Molten didn't understand what that meant, due to the fact his rotten nature, though repaired, would never be complete.

“Why do you think so lowly of yourself, Sun? Because here, I see everyone admiring and loving you?”

Molten had always been a good observer. 

He had seen Earth’s dependent and loving gaze, as she played with Sun like an overly pampered little sister. He had also seen the starry admiration in Lunar’s eyes, and the carefully hidden truth behind Sun’s brother’s indifferent demeanor. He had also seen how Moon’s innate sharpness softened whenever Sun was mentioned, and how Solar, despite his rudeness at times, had something secretly protective atmosphere toward Sun, like trying not to touch an open wound.

Everyone connected to Sun in a different way, and between them, Molten felt a sense of respect, admiration, trust, protection and love.

Molten liked that. He likes Sun. He likes the warm feeling whenever the two of them hang out, the feeling running through Molten's main circuit was almost like wanting, like possessing. It feels full. And it makes Molten feel less cold than ever.

Still, because of that, there was a stream of thoughts that came from nowhere running through Molten's small head, screaming passive rage every time he saw Sun talking or playing with someone else.

Because Sun is his friend, and he didn't like it when his friend was closer to someone else than him.

Because Sun still feels comfortable with others more than with him, and he can’t ever beat them due to the fact Molten is just Sun's new friend, and there a lot of people know Sun longer than him.

Was this strange? Molten's ears drooped. Was he becoming selfish for thinking like that?

Was he a bad person? Molten didn't want to be bad, he was bad and now he wanted to become better.

He wanted to hang out with Sun, he wanted to do more things that he felt like, he wanted to find something he was good at to help people.

"Ha... I guess so." Sun muttered. Their bright faces huddled together, even their shoulders lowered. Compared to someone who was almost the same height as Molten, at this moment, Sun looked really small.

There were many things Molten didn't know. There were many things Molten didn’t understand. But he did know that his friend was sad right now. And perhaps the thing that had distracted Molten would be of some use to Sun?

“Do you want to watch a movie, Sun?” Molten repeated what Sun had said. The yellow animatronic still looked hesitant, but nodded slowly. Their voices were still as tense and shrill as before, but more or less, their backs had relaxed a lot now.

“Wait until I finish cleaning this up, Molten.”

“I’ll help.” Molten clumsily sitting down, his loose strands accidentally bumping into the barrels that Sun had neatly arranged into vertical columns, now falling to pieces.

Sun stared, the look of Sun almost making his non-existent heart cringe before they sighed.

“It’s okay, Molten. You can use that rag over there to wipe it, okay?”

“Yeah.” Molten nodded. In the silence, accompanied by Sun’s pleasant hum, Molten timidly asked.

“We’re friends, right, Sun?”

And Sun… in a minute of silence. Their mechanical wrists were as regular as the hands of a clock. The sunlight reflected their images, reflected Molten’s fur in Sun’s eyes. There was something vulnerable as Sun replied.

“Haha… yeah, Molten. We are friends.” 

[imogenkol]

— SHE’D DO ANYTHING FOR ME

pairing: Imogen Kol (oc) x Bix Caleen rating: Mature words: 3.3k warnings: possessive behavior, codependency, fight and make up summary: tfw when your ex finds your taste in women extremely questionable

notes: this is another older-ish one that I feel compelled to post on its own.

Everything felt so... calm and peaceful. In the same way the sky looks before a storm. Imogen should be fleeing for her life or at the very least preparing herself for the inevitable destruction. But she didn't — she couldn't. 

All she managed was to lie in bed beside the woman she fought so hard not to love. The warmth of her body half draped over Imogen's after a night of passion. It was such a simple thing, to have her beloved's head rest against her chest and feel their breaths as one, yet she could not recall ever feeling so content.

Destruction might just be worth it.

Bix trailed her fingertips along her bare collarbone which caused Imogen to smile. Her own caress lightly traveled up and down the mechanic's spine in aimless patterns. It even felt extraordinary to touch her just for the sake of it.

"I'm starting to believe you actually like waking up next to me," Bix said in a lighthearted tone.

"I have always desired this," Imogen admitted softly, tilting her head enough to nuzzle against hers.

"Meaning you've always been afraid of this."

Imogen tensed. The hard-wired urge to pull away and fiercely deny such an accusation threatened to overcome her, but there was no sense in refuting the truth any longer. Not from Bix. Gradually, the bounty hunter willed her muscles to ease. She wondered how long it would take to train these instincts out of her. "If we... truly commit to one another –"

Bix's fingers suddenly twitched into a fist against Imogen's skin. "If?"

"No," Imogen quickly corrected herself. "No more ifs. What I mean to say is... Well, I have a lot to learn."

"So do I. So does everyone," Bix stated matter-of-factly. She leaned up on her elbow and met the other woman's apprehensive expression. "You're here. You're trying. That's all that really matters to me."

A strand of dark hair dangled over the mechanic's cheek. Imogen reached out and delicately tucked it behind her ear. She took in the unobscured beauty of her beloved for a few prolonged beats, her thumb tracing some of those features that left her in awe.

"I am quite certain there is one thing in this galaxy that I would not be able to bear," Imogen muttered under her breath – almost to herself.

Bix moistened her lips as she inched closer. "And what's that?"

A rhythmic knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Along with a gruff voice that called out "Bix? It's me."

Imogen hoped her glare would burn right through the durasteel to strike Cassian down.

"Hang on!" Bix called back. With an exasperated sigh, she slumped down and hid her face in the crook of Imogen's neck for a beat before she forced herself up. At the sight of the bounty hunter's less than pleased expression, Bix said "Don't start anything. I’m not in the mood to deal with either of your shit today."

"He still draws breath, does he not? That is the extent of my manners," Imogen replied curtly as Bix hastily dressed herself. She, too, summoned a great effort to follow her out of bed and do the same. "Unless he wishes to apologize for aiming a blaster at my heart."

"You held your lightsaber at his throat."

"He drew on me first."

Bix rolled her eyes, though Imogen caught the upturn at the corner of her mouth before she turned towards the door. "Come in."

The both of them hadn't quite finished dressing. Cassian entered as Bix fastened the waistband of her pants at the same moment Imogen pulled a shirt over her head. He halted mid-step, his gaze shifting between the two women as if a complicated equation did not add up. Though, the scene before him must have been fairly obvious.

"What is it, Cass?" Bix impatiently urged.

"I just... wanted to talk to you." Cassian's answer came out distracted. His eyes lingered on the bounty hunter.

Imogen looked to Bix expectantly and received a nod. A part of her had hoped that she would have been allowed to remain in the room, but she understood why Bix dismissed her. Without another word, Imogen collected her coat in one hand and intended to make her exit when an impulse emerged. She would not have Cassian misinterpret anything here, not if she had any say in it.

In a few strides, Imogen went to Bix and pulled her in by the back of her neck. While their lips met with intention, it was no less soft or passionate than the kisses they shared in private. Imogen indulged in a few strokes and had to fight not to get lost in the sensations, nearly forgetting the witness she intended to show for.

Once Imogen pulled away, she gave Bix a parting caress and said "I will come find you later."

The mechanic had a knowing glint in her eye, but she nodded again. "Alright."

Cassian had not moved and the nature of his continued gaze turned from dumbfounded to outright suspicion. Imogen glared right back at him as she made her way towards the door. He stood far enough into the room that she could have easily maneuvered around him, but she instead shoved her shoulder into his as she walked past. Just to make sure her point came across clearly.

Cassian let it happen and she exited the room with an air of confidence. 

Despite having been dismissed, Imogen’s curiosity compelled her to linger just outside the door. Cassian could be there to simply check up on his friend, or he could be there to stir up tension. Either way, Imogen didn’t trust his judgment or his motives and prepared to intervene if she must. 

She leaned against the wall next to the door and shut her eyes to focus her hearing as best as she could past the thick durasteel wall. Through the Force, she could pinpoint each of their positions and the vibration of their voices became clear in her ears. 

“I didn’t realize you two were back to your original arrangement,” Cassian said. 

“We’re not,” Bix replied curtly. 

“No? Then what was all that about?”

“We’re trying something different.” 

Cassian scoffed. “Different. With her?” 

“Yeah. With her,” Bix asserted and Imogen sensed that she placed her hands on her hips as irritation began to swell in the mechanic’s chest. 

“Alright then.” 

“Look, did you just come in here to rag on my personal life choices or was there actually a point to this conversation?” 

“I’m not ragging,” he insisted, shrugging his shoulders defensively. “I just – I don’t get it.” 

“Well, you sound pretty judgmental. Which is rich coming from you, Cass.” 

“At least I haven’t slept with an Imperial Inquisitor.” 

“She’d do anything for me.”

Cassian did not try to hide his disdain. “Where have I heard that before?”

“Imogen is not Timm,” Bix snapped.

Under normal circumstances, Imogen would never allow anyone to come to her defense. All that mattered was that she had enough power to stand up for herself. And yet… she realized that no one ever has spoken up for her in any capacity. The utter conviction in Bix’s statement filled her with an unexpected swell of pride. 

“No,” Cassian agreed patronizingly. “Timm never waved a red laser sword in anyone’s face.”

The jab only seemed to antagonize the mechanic more. “What is your problem?”

The two of them struggled to keep their tones leveled, but as tensions grew, so did their volume. Even in an enclosed space, their disagreement would certainly be heard by anyone that walked by. Imogen didn’t even have to hold her focus through the Force to hear them clearly any longer. Cassian must not have cared because he knew many others held the same prejudices against Imogen that he did. Bix clearly had no issue voicing her opposite opinion. 

Imogen loved her for it. 

“I don’t know, I just,” he stammered over his argument once again and sighed. “I think there are better options out there –”

“What, like you?”

“Come on, you know that isn’t what I’m trying to say.”

“Then what are you trying to say? Explain it to me.”

Imogen’s patience for eavesdropping wore thin and the discomfort she sensed in Bix only made her own anger rise. The bounty hunter pushed away from the wall and took an assertive step towards the room, fully intending to assure Cassian of her permanence at Bix’s side, but his next words made her hesitate. 

“I’m worried for you, being with someone like that,” he said earnestly

There was a pause. Bix did not abandon her stern tone, but Imogen heard it soften ever so slightly as she responded. “She won’t do anything that I don’t ask her to do.”

“Maybe that’s what I’m worried about.”

“Oh, so you’re afraid of me now, too?”

“I’m afraid of how she’ll change you.”

Another tense beat of silence passed between the two of them. Imogen absorbed Cassian’s words and they left a bitter taste on her mouth. He sounded like Cal, making it seem as if darkness only corrupted. Darkness could bring strength. Darkness could bring power. Imogen would not change Bix, Bix would change herself into whatever she needed to be. That is what Cassian truly feared, whether he realized it or not.

“I’ve already changed. And Imogen had nothing to do with it. So do us both a favor and mind your fucking business from now on,” Bix said firmly.

The mechanical door suddenly slid open and Bix came into view as she stormed away from the conversation, coming up short once she spotted Imogen. Her eyes widened slightly and she quickly glanced behind her, but Cassian hadn’t made his retreat from the room yet. 

“Are you alright?” Imogen asked. The urge to confront Cassian herself remained, though she doubted any of her intentions towards him would improve his reservations about her.

Bix continued to briskly walk away, reaching out for Imogen’s waist to usher them along — or more likely move her as far away from Cassian as they could get in order to avoid a possible blood feud. “How much of that did you hear?”

“All of it,” Imogen casually admitted. 

“Don’t let it get to you, alright?” Bix rubbed her hand up and down Imogen’s back. Whether her intentions were to pacify herself or the dangerous woman next to her, it was difficult to say. Imogen still accepted her touch. 

“While he made a fool of himself… some of his concerns are not entirely unfounded,” she said slowly.  

Bix shot her a deeply confused look. “Are you saying you care what Cassian thinks?”

“No,” Imogen replied with a scoff. “I simply mean that he harbors the same judgments everyone else holds against me. I have accepted them long ago and so should you, lest that scowl overstays its welcome.” 

The mechanic shook her head bitterly, ignoring Imogen’s attempt to lighten her mood. “They just don’t know you.”

“And they never will. Not like you do.” 

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Bix pointed out as she came to a stop in a secluded corner of the hallway. “All he sees is the Inquisitor.”

Imogen tried not to roll her eyes. “I have nothing to prove to him or anyone else. Why should I waste my time with such an endeavor? Especially when they are not wrong.”

“They are wrong.”

“No, they aren’t. Not about me. Not about us.” Imogen placed her hands on Bix’s arms. Her caress had a sort of melancholy that lingered in the small smile across her lips. “I do not believe I am the best option for you, but I will be yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bix asked incredulously and shook off her touch. 

Imogen felt a tightness at the back of her throat. She moistened her lips and swallowed with difficulty, her voice hollow. “Have you considered that your feelings for me might be influenced by gratitude? By the simple fact that I got to you first on Ferrix? Would it not be Cassian’s embrace you’d wish to fall into every night had it been him?” 

It deeply pained Imogen to voice an insecurity that she had failed to bury. The way Bix had looked at her differently since Ferrix filled Imogen with a warmth that she had never experienced before, but she could not shake the whisper at the back of her mind that gradually became another scream in the cacophony. A part of her did not care if it was true, she would be grateful to have Bix in any capacity. But the much larger part that truly loved her felt she needed to hear those words.

An intense and furious expression twisted Bix’s features as her body stiffened. She fixed Imogen with such a hard look that the bounty hunter nearly took a step back. 

“Fuck you,” Bix said with a shocking amount of venom. Imogen realized her grave mistake, then, and it felt like a harsh slap to the face. “And fuck what you’re insinuating.” 

“Bix–”

“And I’ll tell you why you’re wrong,” she continued fiercely and took an assertive step towards Imogen, entering her space. It wasn’t until that moment that Imogen noticed she had, in fact, backed away. “What I feel for you was there before all of this. So, despite what you might think of me, I won’t just fall for the first fucking person who comes to my rescue!”

Imogen’s gaze became downcast in shame before she responded softly “Forgive me. I misspoke.”

“You sure did,” Bix snarled bitterly. She turned to walk away and Imogen felt conflicted on whether or not she should follow. 

She refrained from pursuit, but she couldn’t help calling out after her. “You know I don’t truly think that.” 

Bix hesitated. Some of the tension dispersed from her shoulders as she released a weary sigh and glanced back. “You still don’t believe that I can love you for you. I thought we were past this, Imogen.” 

“I do not doubt you.”

“Some part of you does.”

“Maybe… But I swear not to give voice to those thoughts ever again.” She dared a step towards the mechanic.

Bix held up a hand to stop her. “Look, first it was Cassian and now it’s you, just… give me some time, okay?”

Imogen hated Cassian. And she wasn’t particularly fond of herself at the moment, either. She conceded. “Of course.”

As she watched Bix walk away, Imogen felt the invisible tether between them tighten. Disbelief filled the pit of embarrassment in her gut as she tried to make sense of what just happened. She knew better. Imogen knew better and still she plucked out the most absurd thought from the back of her mind and spoke it out loud like a witless scoundrel. If her utter foolishness is what finally made the tether snap, she would never forgive herself.

Hours passed and Imogen kept herself scarce until evening approached and she could sequester herself to the comfort of her own ship. Though, The Huntress felt far colder and emptier than it ever has before.

Imogen ate a quick supper and prepared for bed early. As she settled into the cot, silence sounded more unbearable than a cacophony of tangled voices. The longer she stewed in the memory of her own foolish words, the more Imogen felt like she could hear the shouting of those imaginary voices at the back of her mind. Some sounded like her own voice. Others sounded like her Master. They sounded like Vader. They sounded like Cal. 

They sounded like Bix. 

After a while — or an eternity — Imogen groaned and sat up in the cot, swinging her legs over the side and contemplating numerous methods to get her brain to shut off. All felt fruitless. 

Then she sensed a familiar presence approach, making her spine perk up like an alert animal. 

The entrance to The Huntress whooshed open and Bix trudged in, looking as exhausted and dejected as Imogen felt. The bounty hunter couldn’t deny the immediate feeling of serenity at the sight of her lover, but she still gripped the edge of the cot and half expected another round of disciplining. 

The mechanic came to a stop before her and crossed her arms, appearing less stern than earlier, but Imogen still noted the twitch of her jaw. They simply breathed in the tense air for a few long beats until she finally spoke. 

“You didn’t come to bed.” Bix tried to hide it, but she sounded hurt.

“You asked for time,” Imogen replied pointedly. 

The mechanic sighed as she stared down at the floor and shook her head. “I didn’t mean the whole night, I’m sorry.”

“You should not apologize.” 

“I want to,” Bix insisted as she stepped closer to the cot. Her fingers twitched in a subtle fidget at her sides. “What you said earlier –” 

“Was careless.” 

“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “Yeah, it was. But I know you didn’t mean it that way. I’ve been thinking about it and you’re not entirely wrong. Well, you are when it comes to Cassian, but about gratitude...” Bix’s shoulders lifted as she took in a deep breath, her gaze shifting over the interior of the ship that she knew as well as her own home back on Ferrix. “I’ve always wanted to be near you, but after everything you’ve done for me, it feels less like a want and more like a need. I don’t know, but I start to lose my mind a little bit when you’re gone. Even with how upset I was earlier, a part of me still hoped you’d come after me.”

Imogen took a quiet moment to contemplate the confession. She understood Bix’s words because she had seen the evidence. All that she missed was the true extent of her suspicion. But before Imogen allowed her emotions to settle, she offered one single question. 

“Does that bother you?”

“No,” Bix answered confidently and closed the distance between them. She reached out and took a strand of Imogen’s hair between her fingers. “Does it bother you?”

It should, her thoughts responded immediately without voicing it. Imogen recognized this attachment had grown to an intensity Bix did not have full control over. She recognized it because it was the same attachment she had within herself. As if Bix were a vital organ her body would not survive without.

Could Imogen’s devotion still be pure in that case? Did it matter? It certainly did not feel like it did when her beloved gazed down at her with a mixture of adoration and concern. 

“No,” Imogen said and accepted that for all it could possibly mean.

A small smile of relief brightened the mechanic’s features. “Good,” she said. Bix placed her hands on Imogen’s shoulders and pulled herself down onto the bounty hunter’s lap. “Because I’m done arguing with people about loving you.”

Imogen’s arms automatically wrapped around Bix’s waist to keep her close. She grew weary of the discourse as well, but she did not wish to see Bix angry with those she held dear – no matter how much Imogen detested them. “They argue because they care.”

“I know.” Bix leaned in until their foreheads touched, her hands coming up to rest against Imogen’s cheeks. “But they should see how you make me feel.”

Imogen felt her face flush with a warm grin at that. “You were right earlier.” 

“About what?”

Their lips brushed together. Chaste at first. More of an innocent expression of her fondness. Then Imogen tightened her grip around the woman in her embrace as she deepened the kiss. Many emotions were conveyed in the cadence she led. Her kiss was possessive as she lightly nipped at Bix’s lower lip. It was passionate as the tip of her tongue greeted hers. It was desperate as short breaths escaped their lungs and tickled their skin. It was everything. 

Imogen finally pulled back, but only the smallest amount to utter her answer. “I would do anything for you.”

tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @socially-awkward-skeleton @neonshrike @inafieldofdaisies @voidika @florbelles @adelaidedrubman @simonxriley @tommyarashikage @buggknife @aceghosts @carlosoliveiraa @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree @cassietrn @jackiesarch @d-esmond @loriane-elmuerto @shellibisshe @katsigian @captastra @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut @g0dspeeed @strangefable @statichvm @sevikagf @cptcassian @hexmaturgy @auricfog @confidentandgood @e-the-village-cryptid @raresvtm @minaharkers

[takaraphoenix]

Laying on my floor with my hands folded over my stomach staring up at the ceiling listening to Little Wolf from Epic: The Musical overwhelmed with Luktavercy energy.

Percy has such little wolf energy, but the particular of using that term had me immediately go Roman and damn if Octavian doesn't have the taunting angle of this song covered, but not the fighting angle and the song, on the fight part, gives me such Luke-Percy PJO-saga enemies stage energy and now I'm just rotating some scenario where Percy faces off against Luke and Octavian, as a united front.

[randomsufff]

Ok idk how to start this but, DBH fandom- there should be more Connor and Simon friendship fics.

Like- don’t get me wrong I love all the fics where Connor joins the Jeri-crew but, for some reason, I feel like Post-Deviant Connor would really get along with Simon specifically . I tried to think of a reason why (other than bc they’re my two favorite characters) and I think it’s because they’re so similar- but also like… ever so slightly diffrent.

They both (again- thinking Deviant Connor) care about others and are nice, and have a placid, intentional innocent look about them (Simon cause he’s a caretaker android and Connor cause he said it was to appeal to others) and yet they’re both incredibly stubborn and very much capable of violence. However, I think Simon tends to see violence as a very, very last resort while I feel like Connor would be a little more quick to resorting to violence if the situation warrants it.

And Simon is capable of violence! He’s a stubborn piece of shit about his ideals! Side rant bout Simon’s fandom characterization; despite how he’s sometimes depicted- Simon is not some “soft UwU boy who stumbles over his words constantly (EspEciAlly if MARKUS is around hu hu hu *wink wink*) and likes to take care of everyone ✨ by being an overbearing, smothering mother ” (I hate when he’s reduced down to that) Just because he’s nice and empathetic doesn’t mean he’s a weak, push over. I mean, hell, dude kept Jericho standing for who knows how many years. He had to insist AND UPHOLD the rule that they don’t leave the ship. Dude straight up wields a gun and kills people if you go the violent route. He obviously doesn’t like it- and any times he promoted to hurt people it usually fails (Thinking of trying to attack the first 2 guards at Stanford or taking the L during the March) but he does it if he’s pushed into it! And he’s headstrong too! Not some weakling who can’t think for himself. Just because he follows Markus’ ruling- dosent mean he’s some pathetic simp who’s only doing it cause it Markus the one who saying it (ok maybe it’s a little bit that- but he’s their leader! He calls the big shots. No duh he’s going to do as he says because he’s the one who gets final say!) I’m pretty sure if you choice the violent route he’ll push back at every turn and he’s soooooooo snappy to the others if Markus is kicked off cause he really thought he would help them. And while I know there are some great , 3D interpretations of Simon- there are quite a bit that, while not to the extreme that I said, tend to flatten Simon to either being just “caring” or “anxious”. And while a lot of his character is caring and anxious, it’s not ALL of it, and there’s that whole other side to him that you’re missing!!! Give him a mf backbone!

Anyway rant over, why Simon specifically as a friend and not the others- well I feel like Simon’s the type of guy who is so easy to befriend and get along with. He’s also, as I mentioned before this long rant, very similar to Connor in personality. Being split between his Machine coding and new Deviancy- I feel like Simon’s also the perfect middle to comfort him and be the friend that man desperately needs.

I don’t know how to explain why I feel this, genuinely! In my opinion/hc, I feel like after the revelation and everything, if Connor were to go back up to the Jeri-crew and try to befriend them: North might try to make niceties since he helped them in the end, but it’ll take a whillllleeee and a lot of effort to break down her defenses. Josh and Markus will try harder to be friendly, but ultimately treat it very businesslike and orderly- cause to them, Connor was more like an ally they gained in the heat of battle then a friend they made. Contrary to belief I feel like Markus wouldn’t extent an offer for Connor to join their crew as one of the leaders. He’s literally an outsider who BROKE in. He had to talk him through breaking his deviancy so he wouldn’t shoot him. He joined the cause at the very, very end. If anything, he’d see Connor as one among the many of their people who helped fight for their freedom (similar to the guy you turn in the Cyberlife supply run)- not a personal, close friend. And Josh, though not thinking of Connor as “one of his people” cause he’s not the head leader, still wouldn’t exactly be eager to befriend Connor. I feel like Josh’s pacifism and Connor’s ruthlessness would clash too much? Sure they’d hang out- but it more of a surface level friendship where’d the offer to grab a metaphorical drink or something is made but never really followed up on. But Simon- if anything I feel like Simon would be the one to check up on Connor and see how he’s doing. Having being deviant the longest, and therefore the wisest and more in tune with his feelings, I think Simon would emphasize and understand the chaotic circumstances of his awakening and try to befriend him genuinely.

All this to say- I need more Connor and Simon being friends. I need Simon to be friends with Connor separately from the group (Cause let’s be honest- he’s so sick of North and Joshs content fighting on that ship bro needs a not of a break). I need them to be kind to each other but also have a snarky, sarcastic relationship, where they both can give as much as they can take. I needed this so bad, I’ve actually come up with a little fic idea for how this supposed friendship would start.

And because this post is already so long- I’m putting it under the cut- but here’s the tagline- Connor and Simon befriend each other but the whole world thinks they’re dating (and they’re really, really not)

So it’s set after the Pacifist and Deviant Connor ending. The Jericho 4 has spread out to tackle the post- revolution issues. Markus and North head to DC to tackle the law making side, Josh travels out around the state/ to nearby cities to set up and help other Deviants while Simon stays in Detroit to help those there.

Simon- being lowkey sad and lost that his teammates spread out, head out for a walk in the snowy dark at like 3am. He’s not exactly a leader in the way Markus is, so he’s struggling with all the attention and pressure it takes to essentially govern a whole city of people. Of course he’s also feeling a bit lonely since everyone there treats him like a god or celebrity. Sure the little gang that he “lead” before Markus is close with him but they’re all out exploring their new freedom. And of the few new androids friends that he’s made, there’s always that feeling of never being able to truly connect with him- some wall he can’t quite break.

While he’s walking he stumbles upon Connor- sitting in the park, Sumo in hand, very lost in thought. Having never interacted much during or even after the whole revolution (since there was so much to do immediately) Simon tentatively walks up and says hi, asks what he’s doing out here at 3am. Gets asked the same thing, and eventually said be needed to clear his head with Connor relating. Eventually it’s revealed that Connor’s also feeling lost and lonely, being the only deviant to stay with the police department. Took a lot of fighting in between Hank and Fowler but eventually he was able to join as a consultant? Some other volunteer position cause he can’t technically get paid (and if he did- what would he spend it on? The food he dosent need to eat? At the abandoned Cyberlife store whose supplied are already being ransacked and distributed?) for now. He generally just hangs around the department with Hank for lack of anything better to do (for those of y’all who watched it- think of Psych with Connor as Shawn Spencer [now isn’t THAT a fic idea]). Not everyone is exactly friendly to him there, and it’s awkward to him to try to be friends with those who saw him as his machine, deviant-hunting self. Also Deviant Connor is socially aware and thus socially awkward so he’s not great at making friends- deviant or human wise.

Bla bla bla- after passing back and forth woes- Simon’s like: “you know what- you’re cool, let’s be friends- it’ll solve both our loner problems.” Very straightforward. Connor’s agrees agreeing stating the mutual benefits (getting to rant about android related problems/ general frustrations and being able to go out somewhere with someone when bored.)

They exchange com-links or numbers or whatever and it’s the start of a great friendship as they get into situations. The media eventually think Simon and Connor are dating cause they hang out so much and it’s the talk of all the media sources. They aren’t and never will (in my head at least- Connor my aroace icon. But this could also be a perfect Connor/Simon fic if that’s your thing) but despite that they keep getting into situations that make it look like they are. It’s very funny. Like Hank will be like “CONNOR! Are you dating…. one of the brutal leaders… of Jericho???” And Connor will be like- “No, Hank wtf” but then immediately accidentally fall into Simon’s arms after stumbling and they’re both like “Fucking RA9, we’re never beating these dating allegations huh.”

This could be a Gen Connor and Simon character study that’s disguised as a fic- but as a Markus/Simon girlie- to make it Markus/Simon- throw in Markus being lowkey jealous as he gets word of this- eventually deciding to come back to Detroit while North stays in DC after the biggest laws are finished being drafted. Cue funny ha ha situations and such. Personally- I don’t see Markus as being an outwardly, possessive jealous-type (as in- he’s not a guy who likes to admit and show he’s jealous) so his reactions to every new SituationTM Connor and Simon end up in is him going “oh… 😀🧍🫠” which I personally find really funny

Anyways- ending this off by saying I expect nothing by shouting all these fic ideas (and there will probably be more for other fandoms lol) and thoughts into the void- I just like sharing these specific scenarios that I make up cause I think other would like them. So maybe you too can also rotate these situations in your brain before you go to bed 😀👍

[mooshkat]

every time i hear more news abt smth a BoB has done, the more i sincerely from the bottom of my fucking heart hope it never goes canon on the show. some of yall are fucking sick in the head and i mean that genuinely.

[destinationtoast]

Snogging Rebecca was like making out with a grandfather clock: intimidatingly large and elegant, with more hidden complexity than you might first imagine.

- Keeley, in a fic I dreamt I was writing last night

[tvckerwash]

wash tormenting the reds in the most petty ways possible because he's still pissed off about them hitting him with a car and then blowing him up in s8 is so important to me you don't even understand

[marley-manson]

yk a solid potential set up for beejhawk that gets around the whole cheating thing, BJ's inevitable guilt dragging everything down, etc, while also dodging enlightened 1950s poly saint Peg, would be BJ fucking Hawkeye, feeling really bad about it, telling Peg in a letter without telling Hawkeye so he can't stop him (and without saying it's a gay affair obviously so they don't get fucked by the army), and Peg writing back like 'i totally understand :) it's okay if you need comfort while we're apart i trust you to come home to me :)'

because Peg's been having an affair herself the whole time and this way she relieves some of her own guilt lol, a la Henry and his wife

then you also get easy post-canon beejhawk when the truth comes out and Peg wants to marry the new guy or BJ freaks out and leaves or whatever

[celestialship]

Boosting Morale

Megan Lea and Cole Cassidy get their oddest Blackwatch mission yet: baking Christmas cookies.

word count: 1,291

content warning: christmas mentioned (although this focuses more on just baking cookies), light swearing, smoking

When they said Blackwatch needed a “morale boost,” Megan Lea’s first thought was that it was code for “this team needs extensive therapy.” It was hard to hear a sentiment that was equivalent to “you all need to be happier” without thinking of the fact that the Blackwatch team consisted of a cyborg whose human body had been torn apart, a geneticist with a serious lack of empathy for other living beings, and…whatever Gabriel Reyes had going on. But where Megan saw a solution as “hiring a psychologist to evaluate this team’s needs,” Blackwatch saw a solution as “let’s have a Christmas party.”

Megan Lea got stuck on baking duty. And Cole Cassidy was assigned with her.

It was hard to consider it a “morale boost” when it just meant extra work. Extra work pertaining to the actual job description Megan had as “Blackout” in Blackwatch as their sniper would have been no problem. But after years of living and breathing Overwatch’s covert ops division, it felt like the worst ever case of whiplash to now be getting orders to bake cookies. On the bright side though, they were not required to be in uniform for cookie baking. Megan wore her hair up in space buns to get it out of her face, and threw on a hoodie and some comfortable sweatpants, something she rarely got to wear. Cassidy meanwhile decided to wear a flannel and jeans. Even without him wearing the hat to indicate so, it was easy to tell that he was a cowboy.

“So it looks like we need two eggs…do we even have two eggs left?” Cassidy muttered, half to himself and half to Megan as the two stood in the kitchen, standing at the counter with bowls and mixers at the ready. Megan eyed Cassidy as she noticed he still had a cigar in his mouth.

“Cassidy, throw that thing out. Don’t smoke in the kitchen, that’s disgusting.” Megan wrinkled her nose as she turned to the refrigerator to rummage around for eggs. Considering this was the shared kitchen, she wouldn’t count out Cassidy’s speculation that there may not be enough eggs.

“What? It adds flavor,” Cassidy protested, but Megan could see him putting out the cigar as she glanced out of the corner of her eye.

“We do have eggs. Three, actually,” Megan announced as they found the eggs in a small carton stacked atop the various leftovers that had been in the fridge for an unknown amount of time.

“Nice work. Now, we just need a stick of butter…”

“We have like, half of one.”

“It’ll work.”

Megan and Cassidy went back and forth, naming off ingredients and taking turns grabbing them from various spots in the kitchen, preparing their space as they set the ingredients down. “So…you bake often?” Cassidy asked as the two reconvened at the counter.

Megan stared at him blankly. “Uh…not really.”

“…Me neither.” Cassidy chuckled awkwardly. Megan supposed that given the amount of time they spent talking one-on-one strictly related to work, it was an awkward position they found themselves in. Doing something more domestic like baking together felt very out of place for the both of them. It was not often Megan and Cassidy found themselves in a situation where lives were not on the line. It was almost inconceivable that Megan could be interacting with Cassidy in a scenario in which she did not have to focus on her heart rate and her breathing.

“No time like the present,” Megan offered, unsure of what else to say. “I mean, I’ve baked cookies before. Just not for a long time. You know how work swallows your life.”

Cassidy sighed. “Don’t I know it.”

“I’ve hardly even had time to do any reading ever since I joined up.” Megan cracked the eggs open over the measuring bowl and began to whisk the yolks.

“A reader, huh?”

“Well, not much anymore. But I was starting to get into horror books before life got too busy.” Megan looked down at the yolks she was whisking as she spoke.

“I like a good ol’ mystery novel. Can’t go wrong with those.” Megan looked over at Cassidy and saw him give one of his signature crooked smiles. “I ain’t never been much into horror.”

“It’s an interesting genre.” Again, that feeling of awkwardness still persisted within Megan, causing heat to rise in her body. It almost felt wrong to be having casual conversation with Cassidy like this. She was beginning to consider bringing up the last mission they went on together to make things feel more natural.

“I’d take some recommendations.”

Shit. He wanted to continue with this subject. “Uh…damn, I’m trying to remember any of the titles now,” Megan laughed, a bit nervously but she hoped it didn’t appear that way. “There was this one about the colony on Mars…and you’d think the horror would be about aliens, but it was more so about what the human mind can create to scare itself when facing the unknown.”

“Oh yeah?”

Megan put the butter in the microwave and set it for 30 seconds to melt. “I mean, it makes sense, right? Our imaginations can come up with far scarier things than whatever reality is. Hell, even just the aspect of not knowing what you’re facing can be scarier than whatever it actually is.”

“Tell me more.”

“Well, if I said that there was a monster around the corner…” Megan leaned on the counter as she spoke, waiting for the microwave to finish. “…And I described it to you, you might be like, ‘well that’s not so scary. I can handle that.’ But if I didn’t, your mind might run with the possibilities, and become more anxious of what could be around the corner.”

“I suppose so,” Cassidy chuckled. “Never thought of it that way.”

The microwave finished and Megan took the bowl of melted butter to add to the egg yolks. Next she scooped out some brown sugar to add to the mix. “So imagine that, but amplified, because you’re on another planet.”

“I bet.”

The tone of Cassidy’s last words made Megan whip around to face him, narrowing her eyes. Noticing that she was going to scoop out some white sugar, she stopped in her tracks. “You’re just trying to get me talking so I go on autopilot and do all the work.”

Cassidy laughed and put his hands up in defense. “What? ‘Course not, Blackout. I got way too much respect for ya than to pull something like that.”

“Oh yeah? Then go get the vanilla extract and baking soda and begin measuring that out.”

“But then I’ll miss out on hearing you talk. And I like hearing you talk about things that aren’t work-related.”

Megan scoffed and turned back around to the sugar they were scooping. “You can multitask.”

“Don’t get mad at me just ‘cause I wanna give you my undivided attention now,” Cassidy chuckled. “Maybe I’m just enjoying the fact that I’m actually gettin’ to know ya right now.”

“Just because I talked about a horror book doesn’t mean you’re getting to know me,” Megan retorted, sounding a bit more defensive than she intended. She felt like a house cat bristling its fur.

“My apologies. I suppose we should work on getting to a first-name basis first. But to your request, alright, I’ll work on those…vanilla and soda things you asked for.”

“Vanilla extract and baking soda.”

“That.” Cassidy began rifling through the cabinets as Megan turned on the mixer to blend the ingredients she had. She supposed this experience was not too much different from her day-to-day work, because she found herself focusing on her heart rate and her breathing once again here in this kitchen with Cole Cassidy.

[tantumuna]

what's crazy to me is multiple times i've received encouragement to start drawing again, even when i mention that the only reason i've considered drawing again is as a desperate ploy for attention

but whenever i talk about my writing i either get ignored or told to "write for yourself"

like just tell me you don't value writing as an art form. it'll be easier than having to dance through whatever the fuck this is

[aihaloos]

Mwahahahaha my first real fic and of course it has to be Tsukasa angst and contain mafukasa drama.

(Note: If you want context for the scene attached read the tags)

I'm clearly overcompensating for the lack of Tsukasa angst in canon but leave me be okay. SEGA neglects Tsukasa like his parents. I can do what I want. And of course, I'm a sucker for happy endings. I won't nake it end on horrible note.

And I'll try to make it good quality I promise. English isn't my first language [cry] but I'm most comfortable with it and people have told me I'm pretty fluent so hopefully it won't be full of shit...

(Hopefully I've also grown past my wattpad fanfic writer tendencies (I love people on wattpad but a lot of fics there that features x reader would just copy and paste the script, add a bit of description, rewrite tiny bits (aka write the characters fall in love at first sight), and leave it like that. (Or maybe that's twst/kny/mha exclusive... I don't know.) (Granted I do still have some scenes like that because it is a "rewrite" of the main story, but I won't copy n paste the entire thing I swear) Don't get me wrong I still love those fics, they have their charm, but I know I shouldn't be that repetitive.). I still have them, and I'm trying to shake them off...)

[rosesradio]

the biggest propaganda in fandom is fanart. like tell me why i started on this webbed site saying things like “i’m just not into percico” and “jercy is just a bromance to me” but like…if you have a good enough fanartist you can make anyone ship anything, now i think percico is cute and jercy has an absolute iron clad grip on me 😭

[erisenyo]

For the angsty prompts: "shit are you bleeding" and katoph

My first time writing this ship and my second time with a Katara POV, hopefully I do it justice!

--

Katara doesn’t know if she’s ever felt like this before—doesn’t know if she’s ever been able to feel like this before, has ever had this permission to let go.

Laughter and exhilaration high in her throat as she spins into an alley with Toph, bubbling up against her lips as they try to hush themselves, muffling giggles against each other’s hands and shoulders.

Adrenaline thrilling in her veins but bright, easy, no death-defying stakes or world-ending battles as they run from angry scammers and lose themselves between crowded market stalls.

Toph’s hand around her wrist and against her own and reaching, always reaching, right for where Katara is, like she always knows exactly where Katara will be, which she does, but there’s something about the way Toph does it, not expecting her to be there or wanting her to be there or needing her to be there but just knowing exactly where she already is…

“Come on,” Toph orders as they dash away from her latest pretend-fall, reaching out—there, there, right there—to tug Katara into a barely-visible alley, both of them holding their breath as their pursuers approach and then falling into giggles after they dash by, Katara feeling so strangely boundless, letting her worries and concerns go for a day, feeling strangely light, with Toph’s unbridled laughter so close, seeing the happy shape it makes of her face, the way it takes her usual confidence and brashness and transforms it into something captivating, something Katara’s chest aches to feel for herself, something—

“Shit, you’re bleeding!” Katara exclaims, catching the trickle of red against the skin of Toph’s forearm and immediately reaching for her wrist, gently turning her arm to see a gravel-burned scrape across her elbow.

“It’s nothing,” Toph scoffs, rolling her eyes. But she doesn’t pull away or push Katara off, doesn’t say anything at all as Katara tuts over it and reaches for her water, just twitches a little at the cool brush of it against her skin and Katara isn’t sure when she’s does why her brisk, bright, “There, all better,” comes out more hushed, whispered, except that she suddenly feels like she doesn’t have the breath for anything stronger than that as something rises in her chest, something big and familiar and—

“Your heart is going crazy all of a sudden, Sweetness,” Toph grins, the nickname for the first time sounding affectionate, the smirk accompanying it putting Katara abruptly in mind of Jet. But only briefly, because thoughts of Jet and anyone else blow right out of Katara’s mind as Toph suddenly grabs her hand and tugs her back out of the alley, her skin warm and calloused and her grip strong and bold and Katara suddenly finds she can’t do anything but hold back the same way, confident and brash, can’t do anything but bare her teeth back in answer to Toph’s approving, sharp grin, can’t do anything but feel bright, bright, bright in the afternoon sunlight, light like she never has before.

[saltiestbread]

It have been five day i still can't stop reading the same beastnoch fics over and over agine like help??? I can't stop thinking about them??? But also don't??? I am so happy but i get zero work done apart from drawing breastnoch art and I have been sleep at 3 am for the past 5 day because i read them and tell my self just one more?????? I do not think that is healthy in anyway???????

[lulu2992]

The first kiss 💕

In the hours that followed the meeting at the 8-Bit Pizza Bar, the news of John being alive reached everyone’s ears in Hope County… including Joseph’s who contacted the Junior Deputy the instant he knew, late in the evening, and requested to see the little brother he thought he had lost. He and Taylor agreed on a truce and that he would visit them the next day. Approximately 24 hours later, she anxiously drove to his compound to pick him up, but his calm demeanor and the fact he apparently trusted her enough to get into her car alone surprised her. When Joseph was finally reunited with John (who had insisted he needed a shirt for the occasion), he hugged him tightly, and Taylor decided to wait outside so they could talk in private in the small bunker she now called home. The Father came out of it moments later, visibly relieved, and told her John would only return to his Family the next morning because there was “no rush” and, that way, they could “sort everything out”.

The Deputy was a bit confused but, as it happened, “sort everything out” they did.

I had 11 “old” drawings to post and this is the 6th one; I’m getting there! My computer says this file is exactly one year old today :)

[starvrses]

the urge to write oc x canon fics vs my unshakable fear of being called cringe :/