#now I gotta figure out where to put them there's barely any space

[sonder-writes]

bro 😭 I've been drawing the cover for Settling In which is. taking forever cuz there's so many people lol, but I thought I was finished! only to discover I completely forgot about Diego and Lila 😭

[princessbrunette]

all of a sudden, jj suddenly felt severely underdressed in his black muscle tank and cargo shorts. it’s not that he hadn’t been in a strip club before, he’d just never come to see pogue!bunny!reader at her place of work.

you’d left your shoes at the chateau after one of the many infamous pogue parties that you’d been invited to. if it were any other kind of cheap shoes, you’d probably just said forget about it. but for some bizarre reason, you’d worn some of your prettiest shoes that cost you an arm and a leg from the bills thrown your way at the club, so you’d been damned if you let those just get tossed in the trash because guys don’t know the value of things.

jj had actually used it as an excuse to slide into your instagram dms. shooting you a super casual ‘hey, left your shoes at the chateau. want em back?’ to which you responded ‘my hero!!!! <3’ and so on. anyway, the agreement was — he’d bring your shoes to you on your break.

it’s not as grimy on the inside as it is on the outside, but he doesn’t have much time to look around before he’s hearing the slapping of bare feet through the hallway — and suddenly a scantily dressed figure is throwing itself into his arms in the dimly lit space.

“holy— jesus christ.” he catches you anyway, though you can tell he doesn’t know where to put his hands, settling on the fat just beneath your ass. he swore you were put on this earth to tempt him.

“you came!” you smile in that melodic voice, unhardened by your surroundings. hell, he nearly did come.

“well, you called.” he shrugs, trying to be all nonchalant about it. he swings the shiny pink heels around his fingers and you squeal, taking them from him. “yeah— so, uh— if that’s all i could probably just see myself ou—” he juts a thumb towards the exit, going to stuff one hand in his pocket and missing all together as he backs away. he wasn’t sure why he was being so awkward, aside from the fact you were just stood infront of him wearing a tiny little triangle bra and a g string.

“stay!” your brows furrow adorably and it physically pains his chest, infact — he’s pretty sure he had a physical reaction, face screwing up with a wince. how does one tell the girl he’s attracted to that if he stays any longer he will pop a hard on? “s’the least i can do. come watch the show. i can hook you up with wings and some beers for free?” you bat your faux-lashes, the glitter on your cheekbone glowing in the low lighting as you tilt your head sweetly, putting on a show to convince him.

“wings, beer n’ boobs? you’re talkin’ my language young lady.” he smirks, unable to hide his usual ways and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“yay, follow me!” you grip his hand, long acrylics scratching against his wrist and he rolls his lips together, eyes practically following each jiggle of your ass cheek as you walk before he even realises he’s in the main section. you settle him in, a little booth that usually probably occupies pervy businessmen— which really makes the blonde feel out of place. he came alone, and now he was sat here — occupying a booth. what kind of creep comes to watch strippers alone?

he’s about to jump up and make up an excuse to leave in pure embarrassment, but you’re smoothing your hands along his shoulders, batting your lashes and telling him you wish you could stay and chat but you’ve gotta go dance, and that his wings and beer will be coming soon. he blinks at you, under a trance and settles into the worn and suspiciously sticky leather arm chair.

soon you’re up on that stage and he wants to sink into the fucking ground. you’re unbelievably hot, and now it’s like something out of a porno he made in his mind, watching you saunter around the pole, dropping down to the ground and arching your back, shaking the meat of your ass effortlessly as faceless men throw money your way. he had nothing to throw but some receipts and old nickels in his pockets and he didn’t think you’d appreciate that — which didn’t matter anyway, because he was somewhat stuck to his seat.

he lifts his hands to adjust his cap before realising he’s not wearing one, and just as he realises his dick is sitting hot, heavy and hard in his shorts— you’re off stage, bounding over with everything jiggling. lord help him.

he thinks he might die when you clamber confidently onto his lap, straddling him front on.

“so how was it jayj did you like it? i know it’s a lil’ weird seeing me up there, i’m your friend n’all but was the song choice good atleast?” you tilt your head like a befuddled puppy dog before wriggling around— crotch to cock. “oh, nevermind. i can feel that you’re like super hard so i take it that you liked the show!” you smile, like you’d just said the most innocent sentence in the world. jj blinks, lips agape.

“uh— y—no, yeah it was… well, y’know. the body doesn’t lie.” he bucks his hips lightly in gesture before immediately internally questioning why he’d do something so creepy. luckily, you giggle — but he’s not sure if it’s because you liked it or because you’re well trained.

“well, next time you get paid come get a lapdance i’ll fix that problem jayj, even give you a discount.” you let that giggle slip through again, but there’s a breathiness to your tone that feels all too real. his brows jump up, eyes flickering unashamedly to your tits as you lean forward to his ear. “or jus’ get me drunk again next weekend? will probably do it for free ‘cus i like you.” you admit, looking all nervous when you pull back. you just shook your ass on stage, yet jj maybank was making you flustered.

“for sure. yeah uh— can… can definitely do that. yep.” he plays it calm and collected, sees you out with another bone crushing hug against your tits before speed walking to his company truck that he drove over here. his shift was over, so he wasn’t rushing to get back to work. moreso to beat off in the parking lot thinking about pulling that g-string of yours to the side.

[urhoneycombwitch]

have we established how the getting together happened with neighbors?

like we've established that r is pretty guarded and has high standards and there a cat and mouse chase, but is there a specific moment where r finally lets him in, both literally into their space and emotionally into their life? is it an actual moment where R is aware of it and makes the decision, or more like they're in the heat of conversation in the hallway and R is unlocking their door without thinking, leading him in and it's not until they've been tucked up on the couch for a while talking that it's like oh, we're here and it's comfortable and nice?

okay here's my pitch that may be a full fic one day but i'll just brain dump for now!! thank you sm anon and thanks ya’ll for eating this version of Eddie up we’re having so much fun wheeeee 

cw: for Reader- she/they pronouns, fear of dogs (briefly), androgynous dressing, nonspecific tattoos mention, plus-sized/fat; for Eddie- dog dad Eddie, also husky/fat Eddie 🤤, he’s a bit of a soft!dom in this; for Both: instances of getting drunk and high, fade-to black sex, implied sex while intoxicated. mdni 18+

wc: 1k

neighbor!eddie mlist

___

how i see it happening is- neighbor!R doesn't go out of her way to make friends. not unkind by any means, but just loyal to a few close people and that's enough for now. not shy when with said friends, but reserved around people they don't know.

R is an artsy, into-music, plants on the windowsill type of vibe: but they got a boring business 9-5 (just to pay the bills) that keeps them in formal attire every time they leave the house. dress slacks, blouses, a tie sometimes to shake it up.

behind closed doors, you’re freer of expression. long sleeves that normally cover your tattoos are shed, you sing and sway to old records, accessorize and breathe. but your neighbor doesn’t get to see that side of you.

husky!neighbor!Eddie is a farm-raised boy in the city world. grows his own weed on the back windowsill, but not for dealing, just for himself and some choice bandmates. gets around doing mechanic repairs and helping out at uncle wayne’s farm during harvest season. his pride and joy is Franklin, a sweet pitbull adopted from a local rescue.

you and him have met a few times- once when you moved in, and a few times in the hall since that day. Eddie gave you his number as a friendly, neighborly-gesture, and also, whatever, he was hitting on you by helping carry your heavier boxes. sue him.

he’s been kind at every interaction, offering a friendly wave across the hall with the hand that isn’t holding Franklin’s leash, but you always seem in a hurry. a tight smile or a nod is your go-to, and paired with that and the clothes vibe, Eddie’s not sure what to think. 

but what he doesn't know is you're actually just really, really scared of dogs.

it was a bad ex-boyfriend who kept a mean one. and you know it wasn't the dog's fault- an otherwise beautiful husky- but after living with what felt like a wild animal in your previous house, you’ve been put off big dogs completely.

one morning Eddie’s annoyed to get a call at 6am but it’s you on the other end sounding panicked, saying that you’ve got Franklin by the main sidewalk after you saw him running towards the road. 

Eddie curses and then apologizes a lot and says to stay on the phone with him, it’s okay, he’s gonna be down there in a flash. and talks to you over the phone so you don’t have a meltdown about being near a big dog (‘cuz he’s figured it out by now, perceptive king!!) 

he scrambles into some sweats and throws some sneakers onto bare feet and scrambles out the door (with a busted lock that he kept meaning to fix, damn that smartass dog for getting his weak point argh foiled again) and gets down to you in records time.

it’s still early enough that there’s barely anyone else in the parking lot, and you’re in bare feet and sleep shorts and a t-shirt and oh my god Eddie’s staring too much and he knows it and he’s gotta pull it together so he lunges forward and takes Frankie’s collar from your hand (which you were holding as far away from your body as possible, Franklin none the wiser, tongue lolling out in his giant mouth looking very pleased with himself)

and Eddie rolls his palm around on Frankie’s soft black bicycle seat shaped head and says, lovingly, “idiot. what am I gonna do with you?” and sees some of the tension leave your shoulders when you see that no one’s gonna start yelling. 

and then he spots the local punk band logo on your t-shirt and strikes up conversation. you see that he’s only in sweatpants and decide to come over to his for coffee 🙂 it’s early in the morning and you just rescued his dog from getting hit and you haven’t had the chance for breakfast before work yet 🙂 so many valid reasons!!!

so you strike up a friendship from there. there are some shared block parties, a few mutual friend hangouts (you know Robin from previous art classes at the local CC, Eddie knows Steve who’s chill now from high school: and Robin and Steve get along swimmingly), he’s come over for yours once for dinner, pretty casual stuff so far.

then one night you’re home from the bar with Robin (yeah whatever Eddie was waiting up to hear your footsteps across the hall to make sure you got in safe <3 <3) and he hears your music turned up loud.

catches a glimpse of you through the hallway facing windows (bless the shitty design optics of this place) you’re looking pretty smashed, dancing around a bit.

Eddie smiles to himself, cleans up his kitchen for the night, wonders if you’ve eaten. and then sends you a text despite his higher self screaming at him to not.

hey. drink a glass of water and get some sleep, okay?

you text back within a minute. 

:( can i caame se frank ???/

and now you’re sinking onto his floor, cooing over this dog you used to be so scared of. Franklin is a doll and rolls over, tail thumping on the kitchen linoleum, overjoyed to see you again. you slide a hand across the plane of Frankie’s chest and sigh happily.

Eddie pulls you up off the floor eventually (he’s worried about your knees) and plants you on his couch. brings you a tall glass of water and sits on the furthest cushion.

but you make use of the space. take a sip of water to mollify him. budge your way up onto his cushion, and then partly his leg, and then you’re leaning in- 

and Eddie’s hands are on your shoulders, gentle but firm, calling you sweetheart while letting you down easy. he wants to, really bad, he assures, just not when you’re this fucked up.

you shrug. plant your hands on his chest as you do it. and you’re like, well, you’ve surely got whiskey and weed in this apartment. why don’t you catch up? and then we’ll be even. 😀

and Eddie really can’t argue with that. the math tracks with him.

you think the sex will be kind of sloppy, maybe a one-time thing to get out of your system. it’s not. it’s kind of the best you’ve ever had.

[soyokaze-sword]

in defence of the Earth Eleven and the whole Tsurufake thing

so. i think we can all agree that the fact no one finds the Tsurugi impostor (whom i'll call Tsurufake from now on) is very frustrating as viewers. however, i think people are a bit too harsh on the Earth Eleven in that regard, so i'd like to give my thoughts on the matter.

very long ranting under the cut:

the fact that Tsurugi was replaced by an importor is made obvious in every way possible for the viewer, and i insist on the word viewer. the scene where Tsurufake replaces him is shown to us, and we see Tsurugi go to Falam Orbius.

i'll first cover Tsurufake's appearance, since it's my weakest point. Tsurufake has purple eyes and eyebags to differenciate him from Tsurugi. and that's something i've always seen as just a way for the viewer to tell them apart? what i mean is that i think the Earth Eleven still sees Tsurugi's usual eye colour, it only exists in the viewer's perception to remind us that this is not the real Tsurugi. remember that the target audience is young children, after all. this makes even more sense in the game, as Tsurufake becomes playable in the postgame, so there needed to be a difference in his portrait and 3d model.

so, the Earth Eleven doesn't see any difference in Tsurugi's appearance. but what about his behaviour? surely this should've triggered a reaction. and it did, but not the one we wanted. before i go through every member likely to figure out Tsurufake one by one, i'd like to make a general statement.

how likely is this situation to happen? maybe i'm crazy or too socially awkward to understand, but if one of your friends starts acting weird all of a sudden, especially in an unknown environment where the future of the ENTIRE GALAXY is at stake, them having been abducted and replaced by an impostor is the last thing that will come to your mind, right? of course i get that in the world of IE what's unlikely for us isn't so much for them, but STILL. can you really blame them for not thinking about this scenario, when the most obvious answer was that this new environment and the stakes were making Tsurugi anxious?

i see you're still not convinced. so i'll talk about each character who was likely to find out one by one.

let's start with Aoi, Shinsuke and Shindou. Aoi and Shinsuke, despite having been around since the first season, aren't that close to Tsurugi. they've barely interacted alone, so i think it's safe to assume they don't know him well enough to notice. plus Shinsuke's too busy having a repeat of his CS arc to care (why does this character exist).

as for Shindou, in my opinion, it's because they've already grown appart during the first half of Galaxy. while Tsurugi kind of acts as a middle ground between Shindou and Tenma, it quickly becomes obvious's he's on the latter's side. which is why, while Shindou is seen talking to Tsurugi at first, he doesn't do it as much later on. this division, while minor, between the main trio, is what made them grow apart, probably without them even realising. Shindou still puts his full trust on Tsurugi on the field of course, but outside, i'd say he started to feel Tsurugi wouldn't understand if he tried talking to him.

now, on to the biggest part... Tenma. Tenma was the most likely to figure it out, Ozrock even mentions it. Tenma is the one who knows Tsurugi best, who was able to see through his facade and notice his real love for football.

well, first of all, there's the obvious 'Tenma had too much on his plate to worry about Tsurugi'. he's gotta lead a team of beginners in a space tournament that will decide the fate of the entire galaxy. the poor guy never gets to catch a breath in this season.

but, to go beyond that, i'd say that Tenma knowing Tsurugi well actually played against him. because Tenma knows Tsurugi is very quiet and doesn't talk when something's bothering him. so when he saw Tsurufake acting strange, his first instinct was probably "Tsurugi must be feeling really nervous, and miss his brother. i should give him some space". and, again, with so much to worry about already, he didn't try pushing further. it's frustrating of course, but understandable.

and finally, there's Minaho and Konoha. some were probably surprised that Konoha was the one to pick up on Tsurufake's weird behaviour and not Minaho, but i think it actually makes sense. Minaho analyses behavioural paterns and draws conclusions based on them. he needs to watch carefully someone in order to understand how their mind work. but we never see him examining Tsurugi's behaviour. the only thing that could've alerted him was Tsurufake staying away from Tenma, as those two were always together during the first half, but he probably put it on the account of the change of environment and the fact that Tsurufake said he felt sick.

as for Konoha, she doesn't analise, she understands people's heart. she's good at reading emotions. and, of course, while Tsurufake can copy Tsurugi's behaviour, he can't copy his emotions, which is why Konoha notices, FEELS something's off. problem is, she lacks the confidence to trust her instinct. and bad luck makes it so when she decides to tell Sakura, Tsurufake receives Tsurugi's memories, which allows to copy him better. so Konoha immediately thinks she must be seeing things and doesn't look further.

and that's all. while Tetsukado and Ibuki spent some time with Tsurugi in the first half, it's not nearly enough to notice something's off. of course i get why so many people are getting mad over the Earth Eleven not figuring out Tsurugi was replaced. i've actually been there. but i hope i managed to explain well enough how i think it's understandable on their part. galaxy's my favourite season, and while i understand why some didn't like it, i feel like the community is being too harsh at times. maybe i'll make another post to explain my thoughts on the Earth Eleven as the main team, if people are interested.

thanks for coming to my tedtalk.

[saigethearies]

saige’s terrortober presents…

trust me

while on an expedition into space, your budding romance with osamu came as a pleasant surprise- the murderer hiding amongst your crew, not so much.

alien!osamu miya x fem!reader

contents/warnings: murder, manipulation, and slight yandere, side character deaths, service dom!osamu, unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f! receiving), size kink, osamu is PACKING, praise, belly bulge, dacryphilia, use of pet names, betrayal, angst in the end, osamu still has his dyed hair but he’s in his twenties, this is basically an among us au bare with me

wc: 6.7k

18+ MINORS DNI

an: this one is posted a little late but it works out so it gets to be posted on samu’s actual bday!

“the fuck you mean you found a dead body?” terushima bites out from next to you.

your brain felt like it was lagging as panicked voices sounded off around you. there was no way one of your crewmates was dead. you’d all had multiple health screenings before getting admission into the space exploration program. no one would have gotten the green light if they were in bad health, so how could they just have died? and within the first week?

unless…

“there were multiple stab wounds,” director takeda said, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible to prevent the surrounding tension from worsening. “as of right now, we can only assume it was a homicide.”

the room fell silent as everyone let the news sink in.

“ya gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” a voice drawls from across the circular table. “we’re stuck on this floatin’ hunk of metal and we’ve gotta damn killer on the loose?”

atsumu miya had a scowl on his face, arms crossed over his chest.

“if that’s the case then we need to start narrowing suspects down now,” oikawa followed up. “someone in this room is a murderer, unless we have a stowaway hiding somewhere.”

“security is top notch, there’s no way someone would have been able to sneak on,” kanoka rebutted.

“well then,” daishou started. “it’s time to start hearing some alibis.”

“i was doing weapons,” asahi supplied.

“i can vouch, i was in the room with him,” oikawa added, the other nodding in agreement.

one by one, all of your crewmates stated where they were, what they were doing, who they were with.

“i was in navigation with the twins trying to get the ship back on course,” suna said. “since dumb and dumber decided it would be a good idea to push a bunch of random buttons.”

“i was tryin’ t’ find the air conditionin’!”

“don’t rope me in with his bullshit,” osamu miya muttered from besides his brother.

you spared a quick glance at the grey-haired man. out of all the people on the ship, he seemed to be the one you always found your eyes wandering to.

“where were you?”

the question pulled you back into focus. you turned to see terushima staring down at you, awaiting your response.

“i was reading some samples in med bay.”

his eyes narrowed. “did anyone see you?”

you blinked. no, no one saw you, but that’s because you were the only scientist hired on with a medical background. most of your time in med bay was spent alone.

would that make you look suspicious?

you figured that honesty was the best policy, so you went ahead and told the truth.

“no, i was there alone- but no one else is ever really in there unless they need treatment or need to run an errand, if that makes any difference.”

“so what i’m hearing is that you don't have a solid alibi.”

you felt your hands start to shake. “i-i guess not…”

“let’s hear where the hell yer ass was, terushima.”

the two of you turned to see osamu’s dark grey eyes trained on the man interrogating you. the intensity in them almost sent a chill down your spine.

“ya seem desperate t’ go ahead and put blame on the lil’ lady without even giving yer own alibi yet.”

was he defending you?

terushima sent him a glare. “i was emptying the trash in storage. daishou saw me when he passed by.”

a furrow appeared on said man’s brow. “uh, hate to say it man, but i don’t remember seeing you there.”

“the hell do you mean? you literally walked right by me!”

“the only people i remember seeing before the emergency alarm sounded off was kanoka and the director in shields. i was dropping off some supplies for them.”

“you can’t be serious right now!”

“well look who doesn't have a solid alibi now,” atsumu taunted. “it seems t’ me like yer dejectin’-”

“projecting,” suna corrected.

“-projectin’ onto someone else because ya don’t wanna look guilty.”

“you’re trying to imply that i did this?” terushima shouted.

“if the shoe fits.”

“that’s enough,” director takeda declares, getting the bickering to subside before it could escalate further. “we don’t need to jump to conclusions and we don’t need to fall into hysteria, either. making a rash decision based on little evidence won’t help anything. the body was found near the reactors, so on the complete opposite side of the ship from where everyone allegedly was. Therefore, we don't really have any leads at the moment.”

“so what do we do?” asahi asked, anxiety written all over his face.

“for now, everyone just stay alert and on guard. try to stay in groups or at least pairs if you can. i don’t think the killer will lash out if more than one person is around, and if worst comes to worst, we’d at least be able to pick out who was with who. if you do notice anything suspicious about a fellow crewmate, come report to me directly. rumors will only cause trouble. understood?”

everyone gave their confirmation, you barely being able to mutter yours out.

there was really a killer amongst your ranks.

you were stuck on a ship traveling further into outer space with a murderer.

“good. meeting adjourned, everyone back to your tasks.”

you turned back towards med bay, practically moving on autopilot as your mind picked apart every piece of information you just received.

“i find it interesting that the person closest to the reactors at the time of the murder was you. that is, if your story was even true”

the voice was followed by a hand roughly grabbing onto your arm, halting your retreat. you turned to see terushima’s glare trained on you, his grip tightening. “everyone else might be letting your shitty alibi slide, but i'm not.”

“your own alibi wasn’t even solid,” you argued back, trying to wrench free from his grasp. “you don't have any right to accuse me, if anything i could be saying the same things to you right now.”

“you’re a lot more combative than you were a few minutes ago. i guess you dropped the quiet, innocent girl act now that we're not surrounded by others, right?”

you wanted to deck this guy. how dare he continue to try and accuse you of one thing after another when you haven't done anything wrong. especially after his own shaky alibi had been exposed.

“that’s not the case at all, i just don’t like to be bothered by a hypocrite!”

“i’ll show you a fucking-”

“get yer filthy hands off’a her.”

osamu was at your side before you could even register. while the expression on his face seemed blank, terushima could see the silent fire raging within his eyes, practically challenging him to try and disobey the grey-haired man’s order.

still, the shorter man made no move to release you, which prompted your unexpected savior to speak again.

“if i have t’ tell ya twice, yer not gonna like what happens next.”

with that, terushima finally released you. he scoffed before turning to storm out of the room.

you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding in.

“ya alright, there?”

looking up you met the dark, concerned eyes of osamu. the contact had the inside of your stomach turning into an ocean, waves swirling around within you as you held his gaze.

“i’m okay, thank you,” you said, trying to ignore the feeling of your cheeks heating up. “he seemed relentless, so i really do appreciate you stepping in.”

a smile then appeared on osamu’s face, and you wanted to burn the image into your memory forever because goodness did that man look handsome.

“it’s no worries, my ma taught me better than t’ just stand by when a lady’s ‘n trouble.”

you felt the corners of your own lips curl upwards. “well then she did a really great job.”

“how ‘bout i walk ya back to med bay,” he offered. “director said we needa stick together, wouldn’t feel right if i just let ya wander off alone.”

the waves inside your stomach felt as if they were growing to tsunami-level proportions. you had clearly noticed that osamu was a handsome man the day the crew was all introduced to each other, but you reasoned that you had a job to do on this ship so you couldn’t let yourself get distracted by what was essentially a schoolgirl crush.

now, however, the person of your attraction was guiding you through the halls with a large hand placed on the small of your back.

“i feel like we’re ‘n the start of’a nightmare,” osamu said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “can’t believe shunki got offed by someone on the damn crew.”

“yeah, it’s insane,” you replied. “i still can’t really wrap my head around it.”

“ ‘m sure that terushima jackass barkin’ atcha hasn't made it any easier for ya, huh?”

you sighed. “no, but i guess he does have somewhat of a reason. my alibi can't be corroborated by anyone. besides, nerves are running rampant right now, so i can't really blame him.”

the two of you reached med bay, osamu reaching for the handle and opening the door before you could even lift a finger. he was every bit as chivalrous as he was handsome, your knees feeling slightly weaker as he ushered you inside.

“well i think his reason for comin’ atcha was bullshit. he doesn’t have a solid story, either, so his whole outburst is rubbin’ me the wrong way. be careful ‘round him, will ya?”

the thought had crossed your mind during your earlier altercation with terushima. you knew you weren’t a killer, but him? it could be entirely plausible that a murderer had just been laying his hands on you. if osamu hadn’t come to your aid…

“i’ll try and steer clear of him,” you replied. “thank you again, osamu. i appreciate it, really.”

“of course,” he replied with a smile coming back onto his face. “and you can call me ‘samu.”

returning his kind expression, you nodded your head before turning to grab the samples you were working with earlier.

“anythin’ i can help ya with while ‘m here?”

“you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, walking me back was already sweet enough of you.”

“nah, we gotta stay ‘n pairs, remember? can’t let ya just sit here by yerself with a killer on the ship.”

by the look on his face, you could tell osamu wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so you relented by pointing to the wireless connection panel on the wall across from you.

“i think that could use some maintenance.”

_____

while very tense, the next few days were quiet. no more killings, no odd behavior from anyone- besides terushima’s rotten attitude towards you, but at this point you were just getting used to it. everyone was taking it day by day, each uneventful twenty-four hours being looked at as a win. crew morale was constantly wavering, however. it was hard to feel confident in your coworkers when one of them was secretly a murderer.

your safe haven amidst all of the suspense was osamu.

he continued to spend hours at a time with you in med bay, your once silent workplace now filled with chatter and laughter. when it came time for him to leave to go attend to other tasks, you would often tag along.

“buddy system, right?” he would say.

atsumu and suna would also occasionally find themselves keeping the two of you company in med bay. watching the three of them banter was probably the best entertainment you were going to get on the spacecraft. with the way the dark-haired man interacted with the twins you would think that they’ve all known each other for a very long time, so you were surprised to learn that they’d only just met at the start of the expedition.

“it literally reminds me of mustard,” suna remarked, earning a burst of laughter from osamu.

“shut yer trap, sunarin!”

“did you just not think to use toner?”

“there is nothin’ wrong with my hair!” atsumu defended.

the bickering had been going on for the past five minutes, suna always finding a way to goad the blonde into being his personal entertainment. he almost had a talent for being able to get under either of the twin’s skin, antagonizing them almost as much as they antagonize each other.

“if yer worried ‘bout what's wrong with ya then yer hair is the least of yer worries,” osamu piped up, earning a small giggle from you. you were too engrossed in recording your sample data to notice the content smile come onto the grey-haired man’s face at hearing your laugh.

he came up behind you, leaning down so that his head was hovering above your shoulder. “what ya got goin’ on here?”

you kept your face turned down towards your desk, not wanting him to catch onto the way your cheeks were heating up at his close proximity. “just going over the results from asahi’s blood test.”

it was no doubt to you that after spending so much time together, there was…something brewing between you and osamu. at first you figured it was just physical attraction, but the more you were around him, the more you began to realize that wasn’t the case.

you felt a comfort with the man you hadn’t felt with anyone else before- not any of your friends, not any of your exes, not even your family. there was no denying that there was a genuine connection there, and whether you were falling for him so quickly because of the circumstances or because you were truly that into him, you didn’t know.

and it didn’t really matter to you, either. every day on this spaceship could end up being your last, so you chose not to waste your time overthinking.

“need any help?”

“no, but thank you, ‘samu. you're always so considerate.”

before he could reply, kissy noises were sounding off from the other two occupants in the room. the glare osamu sent atsumu and suna would probably have most peoples’ stomachs dropping, but the two of them seemed unfazed.

it was then that a red flash illuminated the room, a harsh buzz ripping through the air.

the emergency alarm.

you dropped your pen.

“dammit!” atsumu yelled. “not another murder!”

a hand was placed on the small of your back, guiding you to stand on unsteady legs. “don’t jump t’ conclusions, we don’t know fer sure.”

“well what else would it be?” suna asked.

you began to move towards the door, osamu’s palm not leaving your body.

“i guess we should go find out,” you muttered.

the walk was silent, the once tense atmosphere of the ship now suffocating as days after days worth of anxiety had come to a crescendo. the four of you waited as the cafeteria doors slid open, revealing the rest of your crewmates gathered around the meeting table.

well, all of them except one.

not again…

once you had all gathered around, director takeda spoke the words you’d been dreading to hear since the adjournment of the last meeting.

“another body has been found.”

silence.

“oikawa and asahi found daishou in the electrical room. he wasn’t moving and they couldn’t find a pulse.”

“that’s right around the corner from where the last body was found,” kanoka observed.

“on the same side as med bay,” terushima muttered under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.

you frowned. “can you at least wait until we get all the details before you try and start accusing me?”

“why? we’re already two men down, we can’t let this shit just slide again.”

“we won’t,” takeda firmly interjected. “there were several small bruises on daishou’s neck, so it seems that his cause of death was asphyxiation.”

“so whoever did this was able to choke a grown a man to death with their bare hands,” oikawa observed.

“wouldn’t that mean we have the culprit’s fingerprints?” you asked.

“unfortunately the perpetrator was wearing gloves.”

“damn,’ asahi sighed.

“well if they killed the poor guy with their bare hands then i really don’t think it could be the lil’ lady,” atsumu commented.

“yeah, ya really think these tiny ass fingers could choke a man?” osamu added, lifting your hand up to prove his point. your stomach fluttered when you saw how huge his looked compared to yours.

“here the two of you go fucking defending her again,” terushima barked. “she didn’t even have an alibi last time!”

“neither did you,” suna said.

“yeah, and this time all three of us were with her,” osamu motioned between him, his brother, and their friend. “so she has the damn alibi yer so bent over.”

“okay, so we know oikawa and asahi were together again, then the four of them were with each other,” kanoka listed. “i was checking oxygen levels with the director.”

all eyes turned to the remaining unnamed person.

“terushima, where were you?”

the man blinked. “i was doing weapons.”

“did anyone see you?”

“i-uh, well no, everyone was off doing other things.”

director takeda frowned. “so you have no one to confirm your whereabouts?”

“second time this happened,” oikawa commented.

the pierced man sent the brunette a glare.

“since he mentioned it already, wasn’t daishou the one who denied being able to verify terushima’s story last time? and now he’s dead, too.”

everyone went quiet at suna’s observation, terushima’s eyes widening.

“are you seriously implying that i fucking did this?”

“the evidence isn’t really pointing towards anyone else right now,” kanoka said slowly.

“what the fuck.”

“everyone else has alibis,” oikawa said, prepared to lay the facts on the table.”you’re the only one who’s been unaccounted for both times, and you have a possible motive for the most recent killing. no one else has the cards stacked against them like this.”

terushima looked around the table, everyone regarding him with a careful, withdrawn look.

“guys, come on!”

director takeda took a slow breath. “i’m sorry, terushima. but we’ve already lost two lives, and right now you’re the only suspect. we have to do what’s best for the crew.”

“fuck you,” he bit out, practically snarling. “fuck all of you! what are you gonna do now, shoot me?”

“no,” his superior said slowly.

“the ship has come equipped with a different way to handle violent members.”

_____

never in a million years would you have thought that what director takeda meant is that terushima would get ejected. thrown out into deep space to choke and freeze.

it felt so cruel and unusual. yet, your boss insisted that this was the best way to go about it. keeps the threat away without needing anyone to bloody their own hands.

you tried to take his word for it, but you still couldn’t help but feel that there had to have been a better method.

thankfully, the relief of the murder mystery being solved was enough to keep you from dwelling on it for too long. the atmosphere on the ship was light again, everyone more lively and talkative. there was still an underlying somberness held for those departed, but no more going through the day with bated breath.

well, almost.

you still couldn’t fight the feeling that something was…off.

as if your ship’s little mystery had been solved almost too easily. too conveniently.

“what’s wrong?”

osamu’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, standing at the entryway to your sleeping quarters.

“oh! hey,” you said, getting up from your desk. you had to crane your neck so much to look up at him. you tried to ignore how that fact made your heart skip.

as if he could read your thoughts, the grey-haired man brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “ya didn’t answer me.”

you gave him a small smile. “i’m okay, ‘samu, just tired.”

he frowned. “i don’t believe ya.”

a sigh escaped your lips. “i guess i’m just a little overwhelmed. i’m glad we found terushima out and all, but this whole ordeal has just felt like…a lot. and i think i've been struggling to calm down again, after things were so tense for a while.”

“i don’t like seein’ ya this worried, pretty girl like ya shouldn’t be frettin’ over a thing.”

the comment didn’t catch you completely off guard. osamu had started to become a little more flirtatious, but you always figured it wasn’t that serious. probably just a way for him to be affectionate.

as his dark eyes bore into you right now, however, you started to think that might not be the case.

“i’m okay, really.”

the hand that had brushed your hair away hadn’t left your face, thumb brushing against your cheek.

“i can see yer face lookin’ all gloomy,’ he said, moving closer to you. “c’mon, darlin’, talk to me.”

you took a deep, steadying breath. “i just want a break from all the stress.”

his hands were then roaming your back, pulling you into his chest. his lips found themselves at the shell of your ear.

“then let me take care of ya, sweetheart.”

the sexual tension building up over the past week came to boiling point when osamu’s lips slotted against yours, desire spilling over the sides and shrouding each of you in a cloud of desire. he started to press more firmly, tongue sliding in between the seam of your mouth.

he broke away from you. “ ‘s this alright?”

you nodded, eyes wide, before osamu’s lips chased after yours again, hand coming to the zipper of your pink bodysuit. he dragged it down slowly, revealing more of your skin inch by inch.

stepping out of the material, you stood before him in your matching set.

“so damn beautiful.”

you placed your hands on the back of his neck, eyes staring up at him doefully. “wanna see you too, ‘samu.”

“whatever ya want, darlin’.”

he peeled off his own bodysuit next, grey in color, and was left in just his briefs. gently leading you back towards your bed, he laid you down slowly.

kissing you once more, osamu started to move down your body, leaving little pecks against your heated skin in his wake.

“what are you doing?”

“i told ya i was gonna take care of ya, sweetheart.”

he pressed a kiss below your belly button, fingers gripping the hem of your panties. he glanced towards your face, chest tightening at the sight of your lust-blown expression, waiting for your okay. you nodded, and thus osamu peeled the lace off.

grabbing the underside of each of your thighs, he spread them open. kissing the inner part of each of them, his lips then finally descended onto your glistening cunt.

“ ‘samu,” you squeaked out.

he smirked, tongue grazing up and down your sensitive nub. the sensation had you mewling, fingers tangling into his dyed locks. your sounds made osamu smirk against you, adding two fingers into your cunt in hopes he’d hear even more.

the muscle started to move against your clit faster, mouthing against it like he was starved. another finger was then pressed into your pussy. you weren’t used to being stretched that much.

“too much,” you whined out. “ ‘s too much.”

“ya need t’ take it, sweet thing. if yer gonna take my dick later, ya need this.”

you felt your breath catch, the thought of being filled by him leading the heat in your stomach to start building.

finally hitting his fingers against that spongy spot deep within your walls, a cry ripped from you as he started to put all of his focus there. your legs were starting to shake, so osamu decided now was the time to switch up the motion of his tongue, drawing circles on your bundle of nerves.

you spasmed as your orgasm tore through you, whimpers leaving your lips as pleasure overtook every nerve within you.

osamu removed his mouth and fingers from you, inching back up your body before hovering over you.

“did so good, pretty girl, so good.”

you felt his thick fingers creep behind your back, undoing your bra. his eyes drank in the sight of your tits as he pulled the garment off of you.

kisses and bites were littered along your chest, small praises whispered between each. his lips moved back up your neck, leaving a final peck on the tip of your nose before speaking.

“ya think yer ready?”

you knew what he was talking about, nodding your head vigorously, excited to be able to feel all of him.

however, all of that excitement left your body when he finally removed his boxers.

oh…

you should have known. osamu’s whole frame was big and broad. why would his cock be any different?

god, would that even fit? none of your past boyfriends even came close to his size.

he must’ve seen your face grow pale. “what’s the matter, darlin’?”

you gulped.

“...that’s not gonna fit, ‘samu.”

“it will,” he replied, not even seeming fazed by your concern. “trust me.”

“but-”

“ya trust me, right?”

his gaze was zeroed in on yours, and you felt yourself become transfixed by just how endless it seemed, as if the space surrounding your little floating ship existed in osamu’s eyes.

“yeah, i trust you.”

another soft kiss met your lips. “good.”

his thumb was at your clit again, an attempt to distract you from the head of his cock pressing against your opening. he began to push in, a small whimper leaving your lips as you could already feel the burning stretch.

“relax, doll, ya gotta relax.”

more kisses were then peppered against your lips, silent reassurances as osamu entered into you further, each new inch making your brain feel as if it was going to explode.

“little cunt ain’t used t’ takin’ somethin’ this big, huh?”

you shook your head, confirming his suspicion as tears started to leak from your eyes.

“well, first time fer everythin’, sweetheart.”

you had no idea how he got the whole thing to fit inside of you. your pussy felt as if it was being torn apart at the seams in the best way possible, jaw going slack as he bottomed out.

“oh.”

osamu hummed. “tightest cunt i’ve ever been ‘n. yer just a dream, aintcha?”

you wanted to reply to his praise, but all that could leave you was a scream as he started to pull out and push back in. starting a steady pace, the man pulled you into a hungry kiss.

never before had you ever been so filled, moaning aimlessly into his mouth as the only thought your brain could come up with was so full, so full, so full.

he parted from your lips.

“ya feel it, darlin’?”

you didn’t have a clue what he was talking about until he thrusted back in, palm coming down against a protrusion in your tummy. the realization had more drops falling down your cheeks, babbles bubbling up your throat. he was going to rip you apart, and you were more than willing to let him.

“ ‘m gettin’ close,” he warned, forehead resting against yours. his hands then grabbed each side of your hips, holding you in place as he picked up the pace. “need ya t’ cum too, doll. ladies first.”

your cunt finally couldn’t take anymore battering, muscles spasming as you came hard on osamu’s cock. you saw him grin as your body shook, finally allowing himself to release with a low groan.

he made sure to pull out of your overstuffed pussy before you could get too stimulated, situating himself at your side so he could pull you into his chest. you rested your cheek against his pec.

stillness overtook the room as you tried to compose yourself, body still twitching with aftershocks.

osamu chuckled, kissing the crown of your head.

“i told ya i’d make it work. see, ya can trust me.”

_____

the next twenty four hours were absolute bliss. you and osamu were practically connected at the hip, all ooey gooey and lovey dovey with each other. atsumu and suna made gagging sounds every time they saw the two of you, but neither of you cared. nothing was going to ruin the oasis you’d built with one other.

the emergency alarm figured it was up for the challenge.

your eyebrows knitted together, pulling away from your lover’s side as you heard the sound pierce the content silence you’d been sitting in.

the uneasy feeling from before, the feeling that something still just wasn’t right came back to you.

“it might just be some mechanical issues,” osamu reassured, clearly trying to calm you down. you met his gaze, slightly taken aback by the expression in them. it was hard to read, but you just chalked it up to him being antsy, too.

“hopefully.”

the broken, bloodied glasses of director takeda proved the two of you wrong.

oikawa held them in the palm of his hand, a grim look on his face.

“he was in navigation,” he started. “i could barely even recognize him, that’s how bad the damage was.”

you couldn’t stop your lip from wobbling. your nightmare was still ongoing, and now the one person who kept you all sane had been beaten into his grave.

what came next broke you even more, though.

“kanoka is dead, too.”

two murders.

two murders on the same damn day.

you bit your lip, keeping your cries as silent as you could as the news settled.

suna was the first to speak. “do we need to move their bodies out of there, and give them a nicer…resting place, like the others?”

“that’s the thing,” oikawa’s tone now had an edge to it. “kanoka’s body wasn’t with the director’s, it was in lower engine.”

“so what does that mean?” you said, frustration starting to prick at you. “the killer moved her body? or had enough time to get from one crime scene to the other?”

“no,” asahi said. “oikawa was across the hall cleaning the air filters when he heard crashing in navigation. he remembered the time was around 7:30 pm. i was checking the reactor when i heard kanoka scream, and the clock on it read 7:27 pm.”

“ya mean t’ tell me they were killed at the same time ‘n opposite sides of the ship? how the hell is that possible?”

“is the answer not obvious?” oikawa bit out at atsumu. “there’s two fucking killers, and it has to be one of you four!”

“one of us?” you said in disbelief.

“yes!”

“wait a damn minute,” osamu started. “ya mean t’ tell us that if there’s two killers, it has t’ be two of us? not the two of ya, who’ve been stickin’ together since the beginnin’?”

“what ‘samu said! y’all have always been each other’s alibis, ya could have been bullshittin’ us the whole time!”

atsumu had a point. oikawa and asahi always being each other’s alibis would have been one thing when there was a singular killer, but now that there’s two? they could have been covering for each other the whole time. but still…

“if we were the killers why would we give away that there’s two of us? that makes no sense, we’d have nothing to gain from that.”

oikawa voiced the exact thought you had been thinking. they would have the element of surprise keeping their partnership under wraps, it doesn’t make sense why they would expose there are two murderers when it would be easier to let the impression there’s a singular one linger.

yet, you had gotten to know the other three people at the table. there was no way osamu, atsumu, or suna could be a killer. there was just no way.

“you could be playing mind games with us, who knows,” suna assessed. “there’s no telling what fucked shit you’re willing to do if you’re out here cutting people up.”

“no one is trying to play tricks!” asahi yelled. “the innocent people on this ship are in serious danger, we need to figure this out now!”

“the four of us see one another on a regular basis,” osamu said. “the two of ya are the outliers here.”

“we each have three other people that can vouch for us! the two of ya only have each other! yer outnumbered here!”

you were so overwhelmed. so much muddled information was being thrown around, no solid theories being able to stem from such minimal evidence. you weren’t going to be able to use your brain on this one, you were going to have to trust your gut.

“we’re supposed to believe the pair of two people aren’t the killers and instead the duo is hiding in the tight knit group of four? that shit doesn’t add up in the slightest, the two of you are talking out of your asses.”

oikawa and asahi turned to you.

“you’re smart, please tell us you believe us.”

you bit your lip.

“i just…can’t wrap my head around the idea that any of them could be killers.”

“don’t let being buddy-buddy with the three of them cloud your judgment. like i said earlier, why would we expose there are actually two killers if we were the two killers?”

a theory came to your mind, and you weren’t sure if you thought it up because it was actually plausible, or because you just wanted to prove your lover and friends were innocent. regardless, you shared it.

“the three of them are bigger than the prior victims, so they would put up a tough fight. two against four would be hard to pull off with them, so you could be exposing the murderer duo so that we get rid of two of ourselves and then make it a two against two.”

oikawa and asahi both blanched at your statement.

“she’s a genius!” atsumu exclaimed. “y’all really thought ya could put one by her, huh?”

“she’s wrong! we would nev-”

“i don’t know about you guys,” suna interrupted. “but i’ve heard all that i need to hear. let’s get them the fuck off this ship.”

the screaming and shouting that ensued as he and the twins pushed the two accused men out of the room and down the halls had you covering your ears, eyes squeezed shut as more tears dropped down your face.

you tried to tell yourself that you were okay. the murderers had been caught for real now, you were going to be fine. you were safe.

the ship went quiet, yells no longer being heard. that was all you needed to know that oikawa and asahi had been ejected.

footsteps pulled you out of your thoughts, suna regarding you with a nod as he re-entered the room.

“you alright?”

breathe in, breathe out. “i should be.”

“good. i'm gonna go send a message to headquarters. someone needs to tell them what the hell has been happening.”

you bid him goodbye as he left. standing up, you decided that being wrapped up in osamu’s arms felt like a good idea after the intense moment earlier.

they weren’t in med bay, so you did a little searching before hearing their voices from inside the admin room. you were about to enter the room before a sentence spoken by osamu stopped you in your tracks.

“i told ya t’ fuckin’ wait a while-”

wait for what?

“ ‘m sorry, i just wanted to get it over with! i told ya i didn’t want t’ be the one t’ kill the director.”

not even the limitless space outside could create the coldness you felt seep through every pore in your skin.

please be dreaming.

“ya still nearly got us exposed.”

“who cares? we’ve picked enough people off anyways. ship is ours.”

your pulse currently rivaled that of a racehorse, your brain not being able to deny what it just heard.

the twins were the killers.

osamu was a murderer.

movement to your left caught your eye, the brothers exiting the room only to stop in surprise when they saw you.

you tried to paint a look of nonchalance on your face, but it was too late. the panic was written all over you. there was nowhere to hide.

two very different emotions came onto their faces. atsumu practically looked predatory, whereas ‘samu almost looked as panicked as you.

“darlin’, listen to me-”

“cut her the bullshit, ‘samu, ya already dickmatized her enough.”

you found yourself backpedaling, fingers trembling as you attempted to put as much distance between you and them as possible.

“c’mon, angel, why ya look so scared?” atsumu taunted. you watched in horror as his brown eyes shifted to an inky black, the blonde about to lunge at you before his brother grabbed him by the collar of his maroon suit and yanked him back.

“not her,” osamu bit out, trapping his brother in a headlock. “i told ya anyone but her.”

“yer no fun, ‘samu!”

you didn’t wait around to watch them squabble, turning and running towards communications as fast as you could. you had to get to suna. he needed to know, and you weren’t going to be able to stand the slightest chance against the miyas without him.

choked sobs left you as you sped through the halls, sorrow and guilt eating you alive. sorrow because the man you had started to fall in love with, the man you had given your body to, the man you felt safe with ended up being a murderer. you felt beyond just betrayed.

then, your guilt stemmed from the fact that so many of your crewmates lay dead now, and several times you had let their killers roam free. not only that, but you’d also stood by as numerous innocent people were sent to their death outside in the vacuum of space.

you knew something was still off. you knew.

but your gut instinct had been fogged by your stupid, mushy emotions.

this was all fucked.

this was all so fucked.

“SUNA!” you screamed, sprinting into comms with red and bleary eyes.

“what is it- whoa, what’s going on?” he asked, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“we were wrong,” you said, throat tightening. “it’s the twins, they’re the killers! they’ve been playing us the whole time.”

“damn, that’s tough.”

his unserious response confused you. maybe he was in shock?

“also, correction,” the dark-haired man began. “the miyas haven’t been playing us the whole time…”

your heart nearly stopped when you saw suna’s greyish-green eyes turn the same black shade that atsumu’s had.

“...we’ve all been playing you the whole time.”

you couldn’t move, not registering suna’s grip on your shoulders tightening until you were being ripped straight out of it.

“don’t fuckin’ touch her.”

you felt yourself become engulfed in osamu’s arms, back pressed to his chest as he kept the two of you facing the other two…imposters in the room.

“dude, seriously? she’s the last one standing, we could complete the set.”

“sunarin’s right! c’mon, ‘samu!”

you felt his hold tighten around you, the same hands that slaughtered your crewmates now protectively embracing you. that fact made your head hurt.

“i told the two of ya, ‘m keepin’ her. lay a damn finger on her and ‘m rippin’ it clean off ya.”

he was met with begrudged silence from the two other men before suna let out an exasperated sigh. “fine, i guess she can live. she did really help us out by vouching for us back there, fucking oikawa almost had us figured out.”

“a pretty face t’ look at on the ride home won’t hurt.”

“watch it,” osamu warned his brother.

you didn’t know what they were talking about. you didn’t know what home was for them. all you knew was that you were gonna get dragged along, whether you liked it or not, by a man who built a bond with you through sugar-coated lies.

osamu leaned down, kissing the side of your cheek before whispering in your ear. “all my feelins’ are genuine, darlin’, that i can assure ya.”

you felt his fingers intertwine with your still shaking ones.

“ ‘m gonna take good care of ya, i promise.”

_____

saige’s terrortober masterlist

[py-dreamer]

...soo...

ok um technically this doesn't count at least in my timezone cause over here its already past midnight... um...

regardless...

weee!!!

I figured I'd make each of these mofos like individual post rather than make one really long reblog making it kinda hard to sort through and just list them using one tag instead.

So I suppose technically y'all get a double whammy today! Just gotta wait quite a while for it, heh...

So with this one I definitely did focus more on cake than the outfit. But hopefully you guys can still see the skrimblo

Anyways those are kiwi fruits, if you couldn't tell, don't @ me pls this is like one of the few times I've drawn fruits. Oh, and that black thingy? It's a tapioca pearl from bubble tea!! I think it's possible...

At first I wanted a more vibrant teal/green for the frosting and a lighter cake color similar to Mk's slice but that bright teal clashed hard with the kiwi fruit so I switched it out for the light light teal instead. Idk what flavor it'd be maybe like a more minty whipped cream.

Cakewise, it is darker than Mk's so I imagine it to be less airy, possibly more dense. Maybe like a ginger? Give any suggestions, but probably something funky for our funky girl!

Those 3 blobs with the weird cookie face on it is meant to be grape tanghulu with a dragon cookie on it! The rest of the cookies are as expected, good ole sugar cookies, though with the gold dragon I was having some trouble since Idk where to put the balloon since it left an empty space so I had to fill it with another cookie that would barely show, so yeah. That was fun

As for the dollops of frosting, I thought Mei is spunky fulunky, and a rich girl to boot! So let her have some pizzazz! I thought it appropriate

I think the balloon and dragon came out nicely, had to look for a reference for the dragon though. They're meant to be a paper decoration on a toothpick originally like Mk's cloud but at this point I leave it up for interpretation

Not much to say about the outfit, pretty similar to Mk's.

I know the KNY girls in their arts had skirts but my friend and I both thought Mei would look better in pants. (Not that she can't wear dresses, she slays in anything just that we thought she'd wear pants in this situation)

And I did try adding a little green skirt but it looked wonky and I didn't want that, bleugh

So I settled for compromise, making her like overcoat/vest thingy longer/ wider and gave her leggings so she also doesn't blend into the cake lol

And um life updates! I had like 4 tests today, I'm not kidding.

Good news is, tests for now are over!

Bad news is, still have an assignment to do...

Again, I'll do my best to keep this up. They are very fun and get my creative juices flowing I feel but no promises!

[amourtoken]

Hey so the brain worms have attacked me and I rlly wanted to write some Zelli content but didn't know even where to start cause I have thunk too many thinks abt him recently

Zelli alphabet makes it easy cause now I can simplify some of those thoughts before I write more abt them 🫡

Also heads up there's definitely discussion of some rather hard kinks and content so be aware before you jump in please (no nc by any means but definitely some harsher stuff)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Full tone switch after the fact. In the moment he's a totally different person and so zoned out that he's barely aware of his actions it seems but he does everything under the sun to take good care of you after. He's soft in every aspect down to his voice, his hands gently running across your body is an insane contrast to the way he was holding you earlier but it's welcomed. He's bringing you water, a shirt of his to throw on, maybe an advil or two as well lol.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself he's a pretty big fan of his arms. They're covered in pretty tattoos and look nice wrapped around your body in every instance he can think of (even nicer when he's got one hooked around your throat tbh) but on you, he's a fan of your eyes. He could say he's an ass/thigh guy but when it rlly comes down to it your eyes are what really get to him. They look so pretty rolling back into your head when he's grinding into you or brimming with tears while he's deep in your throat, he'll never get enough of the way they look so soft while you're on your knees looking up at him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Firstly, his cum tastes great so you can't ever complain when he's making you stick your tongue out so he can jerk off into your mouth. Second, he's messy as fuck. He loves seeing you drenched in his cum, so sometimes (as much as he wants to finish inside you) he'll pull out just to cum all over your pussy or torso, if he's got enough time he'll happily paint your whole face white and admire the way it drips down onto your chest.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Could see him being a primal play fan but not knowing how to bring up the concept to you. He thinks about it a LOT but it seems a bit impractical. Where's he gonna find time or space while on the road to drop you off in some random location and hunt you down like a little prey animal? Maybe it'll work out eventually but for the time being it'll probably just stay in his thoughts till he can work up a solid plan.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's definitely got some experience, much more than you anyway. He's also just got an innate understanding of your body like its his own. Makes sense, he's spent so much time with you tied up in his bed just so he can figure out exactly what unravels you down to your core so he can use it for future reference. He studies you like you're an experiment sometimes but in the best way you could imagine. He could probably have you cumming for him one way or another in under a minute of he tried and god forbid he ever find that out cause he'd be timing it like he's trying to reach a new PR.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

This one's tough but I think firstly he's gotta be a fan of backshots cause he can really pick the pace up during it and he hits so deep inside you it's unimaginable. It's versatile, he can drag you up by your hair to sink his teeth into your neck or keep you held up in a chokehold until your brain is so fuzzy all you can do is whine and cry his name like you've forgotten every other word. Second place is probably mating press tbh, he loves it. It definitely makes you feel small under him and again he can reach insanely deep inside you while he yaps about putting a baby in you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

In the moment he's serious as fuck. Like I said earlier there's a tone shift and sometimes it feels like he's he's entirely different person. He'll tease you and laugh in your face when you're so overstimulated you're crying but he's definitely serious regardless of his tone. It's a big contrast to how he is normally cause he's pretty soft and funny on a normal vanilla day lol, you can definitely savor the emotional whiplash though cause it's like you get two men in one body.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

OKAY. It matches. Hate to say it but it does idc if it's colored or not it matches. He's definitely not shaving but it's not too out of control, just enough to really bury your face in when you're throating him so deep your nose is pressed against his body.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

There are definitely days where he isn't as intense and he can be a soft romantic guy in the moment, however, most days he's energetic and rough as fuck. He can tell when either of you need a slow day though and he can absolutely offer that up to you, but he's still throwing in some aspects of your normal sex life. Most of the soft romance comes during aftercare when he's loving on you heavily.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't really need to with you around, but he'll do it just for fun sometimes. More often than not is he's jacking off its because you're on your knees in front of him with your mouth open waiting to swallow whatever he gives you. If for some reason you didn't follow him on a tour though he's fucking his fist to your selfies in his hotel room for literal hours some nights just cause he misses you and it eases up some anxious energy before particularly large shows.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I'll just go ahead and list some of the top ones off lol

Dacryphilia, choking, spit, some bondage here and there, marking, cum play, overstimulation, heavyyy on the dom/sub energy, I think he'd dabble a little in petplay and that kinda lends itself to the primal thoughts he's had as of late. He's got a raging breeding kink, and just generally likes it pretty rough. Sometimes his teeth dig a little too far into your skin and he's realized he definitely has a thing for blood but that's a whole different conversation.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

No preference truthfully he'll take you anywhere and everywhere. He likes being at home in his own bed he shares with you but it's mostly for the convenience, everything he needs for aftercare is within reach at home but he can manage no matter where you are. He's obsessed with you and cannot seem to ever keep his hands to himself, you're just so pretty how could you expect him to not wanna be balls deep inside you 24/7? That's kinda rude isn't it?

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

To put it simply, you turn him on. You're his motivation, period. That being said there's definitely some things you do that drive him a little extra wild and you don't even mean to do these things half the time, they just happen. Any time you say his name it makes his cock twitch, he loves the way it sounds in your voice and sometimes you'll call him Z or "my Zelli" which drains the blood from his brain to his dick so fast he gets dizzy. Using his actual first name gets to him too, but the nickname is favored for sure.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He's not gonna genuinely hurt you, and your consent means the world to him. He can get rough, he's left plenty of bruises and marks all over your body but he knows when to stop and he's got a pretty good gauge of how far he should go on a given day. If he's not sure he'll ask before he does anything too spicy. Consent is sexy especially if the scene is rough.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He doesn't mind it either way but he loves receiving from you. He'll happily spend hours with his face between your legs until you're struggling to catch your breath and begging for a break but feeling you gag on his cock while he's got a fist full of your hair pulled up into a messy ponytail is akin to seeing God. You really take your time when you're able and feeling you press messy kisses up his length and all over his thighs before you fully take him into your mouth is enough to have him dizzy. His legs shake so bad when he cums and he's a head pusher but he doesn't mean to be, when he's close he can't really help the frantic actions of his hands that are tangled up in your hair.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

No question he's fast and rough as fuck typically. If he's taking it slow, he's thrusting into you hard enough to knock against your cervix making you nearly double over at the pressure. Thankfully he's holding you up entirely with his arms tight around you. Like I said before he knows when you need a soft slow day but more often than not you're getting fucked raw like he hates you (even tho he's gushing about how much he loves you and how you belong to him the entire time)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He's alright with them, but they're not his favorite. He likes having all the time he needs to break you down into a quivering mess under him but sure if he needs to get some energy out before a show or if you're almost late to an event he'll make it quick. You're never leaving an encounter without finishing first though so be prepared to show up to your event on shaky legs. Don't worry though, he's got an arm around your waist holding you steady.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He's insanely experimental and perfectly fine with a risk. Some light exhibitionism never hurt anyone, right? Zelli's the type to always try something once just to see if he likes it and you match his energy perfectly. You've found lots of new kinks just by letting him try out some ideas he's had on you and it's a nice trust exercise since it shows you have full trust in him and his actions. He'll treat you right, always.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Oh god he's like the fucking energizer bunny when it comes to sex, he could go for hours if you could stand it but he knows when you need a break. He'll drag you right up to that edge where you swear you can't cum again and always manages to draw one more from you before he decides you've taken enough.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He definitely owns a few and lovesss to use them on you. His hands are just fine but seeing you writhe and shake under him cause he's got a vibe to your clit makes him dizzy. Toys aren't competition to him they're teammates and they work together to melt your brain out of your ears.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If tease could be his middle name it would be. All he fucking does is tease. He'll tease you for everything he can think of and then some, picking on you for the way your face heats up when he's a little extra mean. Physically teasing he's a big fan of edging and he knows just how to softly slide his hands over your body to have you arching into his touch and pleading with him to just touch you where you need it. Feel like he's a dry humping fan as well, it adds to the tease.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He never shuts the fuck up if we're being real.

growling, huffing, moaning, whining like an animal the entire time (listen to Hatred lmao he's a mouthy mf). He'll also laugh directly in your face if you're moaning for him. He picks up a condescending tone when he's fucking you and he'll tease you for being so cock drunk while he grinds his hips against yours. He's a big fan of mirror sex so he can grip your jaw and keep your eyes locked on the reflection of the two of you, just so you can see how broken he makes you. When he cums he sounds so fucking broken it makes your belly swarm with butterflies.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

BIG fan of spitting in your mouth and fucking his fingers down your throat. I don't make the rules that's just how it is.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

In my mind he's not the longest on earth but fuck he's THICK.

7 inches, pretty soft pink tip that practically pours pre like a fucking faucet and he's so thick. His shaft has a nice swell that stretches you so fucking wide and you can feel every single vein that laces his cock perfectly.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He could go all day every day any time any place with you to be real. He's never ever ever tired of you and if you're down he's down.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Hes got good stamina plus he's gotta take care of you afterwards so not too quickly tbh. He'll happily let you crawl up into his arms and nap though, occasionally he'll fall asleep with you but more often than not he's watching over you, stroking your hair and absentmindedly tracing patterns on your skin while you're leaned up against him.

[kaydens-agere]

Lost In Your Scent | @regressuary 2025

Fandom: Fireman Sam Characters: Samuel "Sam" Peyton Jones, Elvira (Elvis) Cridlington

Prompt by @mcschnuggles: Character A loves swiping clothes from their caregiver. What happens when Character B catches them red handed?

Summary: Elvira loves to swipe Sam's jumpers while he isn't around, but what happens when he catches her in the act?

Quick note, Elvis in this fic is a trans woman!! Her name is Elvira or Elle for short :) Sam is also trans but his name and pronouns are the same as they are in the show ^^ its not relevant to the fic lol i just wanted to point it out!!

Fic below the cut!!

Sometimes, when Elvira is little at Sam’s and the coast is clear, she sneaks in to steal one of his jumpers. What? It’s not her fault they’re so comfortable. They’re soft and slightly baggy, making her feel even smaller. They also have Sam’s scent, which is something that comforts Elvira, in our out of little space. It’s floral with a hint of cedarwood, it’s a lovely combination.

This went on for a few weeks without an issue. The problem arose, however, when Sam started to notice his jumpers going missing. 

He’d lend them to Sarah and James while they were over if they’d forgotten to wear something warm, perhaps they’d forgotten to bring some back? But, when he asked them about it, they said that they didn’t have any. ‘How unusual,’ Sam thought to himself.

He then asked his co-workers and girlfriend, Elle, at the fire station if he’d left any there, but they all said that they hadn’t seen them. Elvira seemed fairly tuned out of the conversation, but he figured that meant she hadn’t seen them. 

Sam furrows his brows in front of the open closet door, silently wondering to himself where they could’ve gone. He quickly shakes away the thought, however, as he’s currently got his hands full with Elvira, who’s  little at the moment. Sam has been taking care of her for a couple of months and the pair enjoyed the dynamic they’ve developed. He remembers the first time she’d regressed in front of him, the poor little thing could barely get a word out without trembling. Thankfully, they’d overcome that hurdle, and they were making progress.

Sam exits his bedroom and heads downstairs to check on Elle a, he smiles when he enters the living room. She’s laying on the floor, quietly playing with her toys. She’s babbling and humming to herself, clearly very invested in the story she’s going along with. God, she’s precious like this. He wouldn’t trade looking after her for the world.

“You having fun there, my little one?” he smiles and crouches to her level, getting a good look at all of the toys (and all of the mess).

Elle jumps, not hearing Sam coming downstairs. She blushes and turns away, feeling a bit sheepish. She’s always very shy like this, and Sam finds it very endearing, but wishes she’d come out of her shell a bit more at times.

“Aw, darling… you know I can still see you, right?” Sam teases lightly, gently ruffling her hair, earning him a squeal and a giggle. 

“Now, I’ll be right back, my sugar lump, I’ve gotta get the dinner on before it gets too late.” Sam says apologetically. 

Elle pouts, then nods. She can be quite clingy at times, and Sam feels awful for having to rush off. But he needs to get the dinner on before it gets too late, otherwise he’d have a very cranky baby on his hands. 

He quickly rushes over to the kitchen, fetching various ingredients from his cupboards and fridge. He decides on sausages and chips, easy enough for the evening, and something that they’ll both enjoy, as simple as it is.

As he’s pouring oil into the pan, he accidentally splashes some on his brand new jumper. Of course, just his luck.

“Ah, drat.” he shakes his head and mumbles. “Better go put this in the wash then.”

Sam dashes to his room, but on his way, he notices that Elle isn’t in the living room anymore. That’s strange, maybe she’s in the bathroom? She usually tells him before going anywhere else in the house, but perhaps she’d forgotten this time. 

Sam is about to go into his room, but stops in the doorway as he spots Elle. He peers inside to see what she’s up to. 

She’s staring into Sam’s closet, stroking her chin in thought. After a few moments, she grabs one of Sam’s jumpers. It’s one of his favourites, a navy blue one made from a very soft wool, one of the warmest during the winter time. 

Ah, so that’s where his clothes had gone. It made sense, actually… he’s surprised that he didn’t make the connection sooner. 

“Stealing Papa’s clothes, are we, sweetheart?” Sam jokes.

Elle jumps again, before attempting to hide the article of clothing behind her back, albeit unsuccessfully.

“Oh, sweet. You don’t need to hide it, y’know. All you had to do was ask.” he soothes, walking over and placing a hand over her shoulder.

“Sorry, Papa… I just got nervous, that’s all. I just really like your jumpers…” Elle hides her face in Sam’s shoulder. “Smells like you… it’s comfy.”

Sam smiles at her lovingly. “There’s no need to be sorry, poppet… I think it’s rather flattering that you find them that comfortable.” he gently rubs a hand through her hair and kisses her forehead. He gently guides them both to the bed to sit down. He gently cradles Elle in his arms to comfort and reassure her as much as possible. She needed a lot of that while small, and Sam was more than happy to provide that. 

After a few moments of cuddles, he gently takes the jumper from her hands. She looks at him, sadness in her eyes, but Sam shakes his head and gently puts it over her head.

“Arms up, my lovely.” he says gently. Elle obliges, putting her arms through the arm holes as best as she can. 

“There we are, dear… nice and cozy in my jumper, hm? That’s a good girl.” Sam praises as he gently pulls the shirt down.

This earns him plenty of giggles and some happy stimming from Elle, he grins as he watches her shake her arms in delight.

“My happy girl.” he grins and kisses her forehead once more.  “Now, what do you say to some sausages, hm? Right after I change into another jumper, if I have any left…”

[hiddenobject-fanblog]

His Soul (Chapter 22)

Close Call

Summary: After saving the abducted collectors, you were trusted with Curioso's box. What seems like a dangerous possession slowly turns into an opportunity to learn more about this creature and his curse. Can you earn his trust, and possibly, his affection?

Pairings: Curioso/Reader, Curioso/The Detective

--

You were - unwillingly - dragged away and led through the darkened rooms of the clubhouse. A hand clasped itself tightly around your lips, preventing you from screaming out. You did your best to fight against the grip that held you, but it was hopeless, as he was using his powers to encumber your arms behind your back. His free hand was searching around your bag, and he let out an inquisitive hum as he flipped through all the pages of evidence you’d shoved in there earlier. 

You’d thought they were safer on your person instead of being left in your room for someone to uncover them. Stupid, stupid! 

“Hell, looks like I was right,” he breathed into your ear. “You ARE trouble, mate.”

You grumbled under his hand. You were feeling pissed and a little afraid. Curioso was no longer with you, and even worse, he did not know where you were right now. He’d expect you to be back in your room but would find that you were no longer there. And by that point, you were afraid of thinking where you WOULD be. This man clearly did not have good intentions dragging you quietly away. 

Your eyes widened as the both of you approached the front doors, which were telekinetically opened and closed behind you. You were now being led outside into the dark morning. The wind whipped mercilessly around you, tousling your hair and sending goosebumps onto your bare wrists. It was deadly quiet outside, until you neared the edge of the cliff, where you could hear the waves thrashing wildly below you. 

It was at this point you understood what was going to happen. 

You were pushed forward and stumbled a little. You desperately moved to regain your footing so you could avoid slipping into the waters below. It was a long fall, and you had no doubt that your body would land onto some rocks below, which would kill you on the spot. You raised your head to glare at the man, who held your bag in his possession and studied them with fascination. 

“Someone’s been snoopin’ around, eh? Don’t s‘pose all that fire nonsense was just for show, was it?”

Your hand subconsciously began inching to your other pocket. The man noticed this and started laughing at you, as he reached in on his own and held up your pistol. Your face paled as your heart stopped all at once, shoving your fingers inside the fabric and realizing the space was now empty. He had slipped it out so easily that you hadn’t noticed. 

He twirled the weapon around so smugly, putting back all your evidence and clutching your bag to his person. You had no choice but to raise your hands in defeat, completely at his mercy.

“Sorry for all this, mate. But y’see, the boss noticed that our cloak was gone. Our clubhouse had been out in the open all day. And that got him real suspicious, so he asked all the members to keep an eye out for any sketchy characters. And, well, I had a feeling you’ve been full of shit since you got here.” 

You blinked back tears, the wind drying out your eyes and making it hard to keep them open for long. 

“You’re not one of us. So how the hell have you been doing all of this?”

You bit your tongue so hard that you drew a little blood. Even when you were likely facing death, you still refused to reveal Curioso. His safety was paramount at this moment - more important than your own. He still had the chance to save Elise and get her out of here. That’s all you wanted. 

At your silence, he shrugged. “Alright, mate. Keep your secrets. I think I got everything figured out, anyway,” he reached into his pocket again and surfaced your badge. He held it up to you tauntingly. “Police, eh? Gotta’ say, it’s the farthest any of you lot have gotten. But, you know. I’ve got to put an end to you before you put an end to us . And then the boss will give me a promotion. It works out, yeah?” 

“You can do the right thing,” you spoke up, raising your voice against the wind. “This place you’re working for kills people. We can all live together peacefully-”

“Don’t talk about shit you don’t know about,” he warned you, revolving the pistol around to point straight at you. “I guess I owe you thanks for getting me this promotion. I’ll see you on the other side.” 

You heard the deafening boom of the gun and some part of you started feeling really warm. The force was enough to knock you back. You didn’t land on solid ground - instead, you were faced with the night sky from above, falling, and the few stars that were out looked just as beautiful as they had the night you showed them to Curioso. You closed your eyes and savored that moment, choosing the memory to be your last before everything went dark entirely.

…

… 

…

You landed on something hard, and the breath escaped your lungs. 

You blinked open your eyes, which were full of tears from the excruciating pain you felt in your body. You were blinded by a bright blue light. The tears streamed down your face as your eyes adjusted, and when your surroundings cleared, you saw a long red carpet that looked to be floating midair. You shifted yourself - gritting your teeth in agony - and realized the ground under you was…not flat. You turned your head and noticed you were laying in a pile of doll heads. You scrambled to get out but a scream escaped your lips when you tried - your body burned like it was on fire. 

“Detective, you’re hurt.” 

Your heart jumped at the sound of Curioso’s voice. His face was above yours - his sharp grin turned at the corners to express his displeasure. It was the first time you’d seen his mouth ever move from its signature expression, but you chose not to comment on it. It was at this moment the gears turned in your head and you realized where you were. 

Curioso’s box. You were inside again. You haven’t been here since…Andrew Collins’ house… 

Suddenly you felt tired. His mask seemed to be pointed to your chest, and you followed his view to see a reddened spot in your clothes, stained with fresh blood. Judging by the numbness you felt in the area, it was still open. Your hand hovered it as you sucked through your teeth, your mind scrambling to decide what to do. 

Well, he hadn’t hit your heart because you were still alive. But a bullet wound was still dangerous, and you had to take care of this before you lost too much blood. You set your head back down and took a deep breath. You’ll address everything after this wound is treated. 

“Curioso…I was shot…I need this cleaned, a-and the bullet removed…”

“Alright,” his voice was gentle. He summoned a pair of scissors out of thin air and began cutting the cloth around the area. You winced as he slowly pulled the fabric from your skin, the blood sticking to it and making it all the more painful. 

You spoke through gritted teeth. “Any chance you can give me some painkillers? Do some of your magic and make this go away?” 

He didn’t say anything at first, too busy assessing your injury. He conjured some clean bandage and began wrapping it around your body. He forced you to sit up, and you wished you were in a bed and not sitting on a bunch of doll’s heads. You sighed a little as you tried to get comfortable. 

“Stay here, I will be right back,” he said, and he teleported out of your view. You applied as much pressure as you could to the area in the meantime, taking a look around in his absence. 

Being in his box was… strange . It was bright here but also dark, and you felt like you were in the middle of a grand theater surrounded by puppets and marionettes on strings. The red carpet eventually led to his chair, you knew - but it looked like it went on and on for miles, the perspective hurt your head. 

He teleported back to where he was, and you jumped a little in surprise. A hiss escaped through your teeth and Curioso held up a small bowl, in which he dipped his hand and began applying what looked to be like a lotion to the area. Almost instantly, you were soothed from the pain. You nearly cried in relief at the wonders this mysterious gel did. 

“What is that?” you whispered. 

“A recipe from my enchantress,” he set down the bowl and you watched in amazement as his hands flashed - now completely clean. “She used it for the wounds she treated.”

He conjured up some tools that were familiar to you. It wasn’t a pleasant memory, being in the hospital or sometimes your own home, treating gunshot wounds and watching them extract a bullet…the forceps made you hold your breath, knowing they’d be stained with blood soon. 

“I helped her with those treatments, of course,” he began explaining, trying to distract you from the sight. “So that’s how I know to do all of this. A few gunfights would happen some nights at the carnival,” you gave him an odd look and he tilted his mask at you. “Remember how I told you they gambled?”

You mouthed the word ‘ah’ , and tensed when he cleaned the area. It was incredibly useful to know that he can conjure up things like rubbing alcohol and peroxide. You felt assured that the chances of you dying when he was around got just a little slimmer. Your mind still buzzed with that question - how did you get here exactly?

That, of course, slipped your mind when his other hand clutched your shoulder, and his face moved closer to yours. “I need you to stay still,” he told you calmly. “I can see the bullet - it didn’t get too far. But, I think you know how this will feel.” 

You nodded without a word, moving your head so you couldn’t see. You were tense, and the feeling of his artificial hand rubbing your skin somehow calmed you enough. You hated going through this - getting shot and bleeding everywhere…it’s only happened to you a few times, but that was more than the average person went through. It was part of your line of duty - people were quick to pull out a gun when they were not pleased at you solving a case, sometimes. 

You swore at yourself that it was your own gun that was responsible this time. You were missing your badge, too. You were in for some deep shit when this was all over. 

All of that seemed trivial when Curioso dug into the wound, and the pain resurfaced as you let out a cry. It was hard to stop yourself from moving. But it was beneficial having your friend doing this - just like when you watched him play Operation, his hands were completely still and he was accurate on where he reached. With ease, he extracted the bullet and set it aside, and you were left gasping for air when your wound opened and fresh blood poured out. 

This was temporary. He got to work sewing up the opening in your skin, which also hurt, but he was precise and quick with it. You mentally thanked those hands of his. Afterwards, he conjured up some gauze and cloth, wrapping it around your person and continuously applying pressure to the area. It felt better without a bullet in there, but your eyes were stinging and your fingers and toes were clenched tightly. Curioso applied some more gel around the area, and you finally relaxed where you were sitting. He dressed you and it was taken care of for now. 

You dabbed at the sweat on your forehead. You hoped you wouldn’t go through this again anytime soon. 

“How - how did you…find me..?” you were out of breath but you were persistent on knowing what was going on. 

“I saw you outside,” he answered, sitting across from you and criss-crossing his long legs. “Being led by that man. I was not fast enough to stop him, but I was able to catch you in time.” 

“We’re in your box,” you stated. 

“Yes. Which means we are in your car, where you left it.”

You’d almost forgotten about that. You wanted to move but you simply didn’t have the energy to. Curioso must’ve noticed your discomfort and the doll heads you were sitting on magically transformed into a comfortable bed. You helped yourself into the sheets and readjusted yourself. It was cold here - there was no source of heat at all, which hadn’t bothered you before, but now it has chilled you to the bone. 

“We should get out of here,” he continued. “The second you’re able, you should drive off and get to a police station.” 

“And leave Elise!?” you sat up in alarm. He pushed you back down, muttering about you opening your stitches, but you didn’t care. “No, we can’t do that. We have to save her before we can even think of leaving.”

“And how do you think we’re going to do that?” he snapped. “You’ve just sustained an injury. It’s going to break dawn soon, and everyone will be awake.” 

“I don’t know,” you confessed. “But we have to try.” 

Curioso bowed his head, familiar with your stubbornness by this point. You almost smiled at how exasperated he looked, but then his mask faced you again. “How did you get caught?” he asked. 

Your face fell. This story wasn’t going to be one you were proud of at all. “I was looking for you because you were gone for an awfully long time. I came across that guy again, who asked me to light his fireplace. I guess he noticed you weren’t with me because he tailed me afterwards, and when I overheard you and Elise on the balcony, he captured me and took me outside.” 

“Did you have the evidence?” 

“I did. He has it, now. Along with my gun and my badge…that’s how this all happened..”

“Detective,” he scolded. “You should’ve waited for me. I was going to return to you as soon as I could - I just got held up.”

“Held up?” you repeated curiously. You felt a burning sensation in your chest, and you didn’t know whether it was in your heart or from the wound nearby it. “It didn’t sound like it to me.” 

A beat passed in silence. “What do you mean?”

“I overheard you two,” you confessed. Maybe this wasn’t the best thing to say, but you were feeling a little delirious from the blood loss. “She was talking about leaving with you. Why didn’t you do it?” 

He regarded you in disbelief. “If you heard that conversation, then you should know why I didn’t.” 

“I did, but it just doesn’t make sense. Why not run off with Elise? You’re of the same kind and you’ll live a happy eternity with her. You wouldn’t have to deal with some mortal human dragging you along everywhere.” 

“Are you being serious?”

“Yes! It was the wrong decision! You can free her and find somewhere safe. I could even help you two-”

His grin turned downwards again. You were still mesmerized because you’d never seen him do it before. But things were different in the box - his clothes looked pristine again, his mask was fully intact this time. So you weren’t surprised that he was able to emote while he was in here. You just wondered why he hadn’t done it before.

“For a detective, you’re having a lot of trouble piecing this together.” 

Your face heated in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. “Maybe you can stop being so cryptic and just tell me. Ever thought of that?”

“And tell you what ?” he asked, standing to his full height and jumping off of the doll’s heads to land on the carpet.

You didn’t like the space he was putting between you two, and rushed to get out of bed. You were still cautious of your sutures as you attempted to balance yourself on the heads chasing after him. 

“I don’t know! Whatever the hell it is that makes you want to be around me,” you gasped as you nearly slipped, then regained your demeanor from before. “Because I can’t understand why you want to be with me when Elise is right there! It’s a better life than what you have with me!” 

He sharply turned to you and you stopped in your tracks. He looked incredibly annoyed - even more so than when you had trapped him in the box so long ago. Without a word, he reached down and pulled you up onto the carpet with him. You felt some strain on your stitches, but nothing opened. 

“Is it such an outlandish idea to believe I feel so deeply for you?”

You were breathless at such a confession, and much like last time, your initial reaction was to skirt around it. “I guess not. We’re partners and all-” 

Curioso turned and started walking away from you again. You sped walked after him, as his long strides were hard to keep up with. You hoped he would slow down so you wouldn’t have to run after him. 

“Hey! Wait!” you reached after him but he didn’t stop. “Did I say something wrong?” 

The jester halted and you stopped a few feet away from him. He suddenly fell to his knees and sat alone on the carpet. You waited before stepping forward and joining his side, resting a hand on his shoulder and trying to get a look at his face.

“Are you-”

“-Okay? No, I’m not,” he replied, deliberately keeping his mask away from you. “You nearly died, Detective. Do you know what that does to me?”

You recalled what you read in the book, and nodded in return. “If I die, nothing happens to you, and you can find a new soul, right?” 

He didn’t respond and you felt stupid. Like there was something obvious here you weren’t getting. But the truth was…you knew exactly what Curioso meant. You were just afraid of acknowledging it yourself - knowing he could have a life so much better than anything you could ever give to him. You felt so inferior to Elise, but you had given that judgment to yourself. 

“You are my world now,” he began softly. “And I cannot part with you. You can’t die, not yet .”

“It’ll be okay,” you tried to assure him. 

“Are you out of your mind !?” he whirled towards you, and you nearly fell in surprise if he hadn't caught you in time. “You hold so little meaning for your life! I would’ve gone right with you if you had died just now!” 

“But you’d still be here-” 

“I DON’T WANT TO BE WITHOUT YOU!”

He let go of your hands and paced away from you. He approached the chair that was sitting upside down in front of you two. He took a seat and rested his mask in his hands. You followed after until you were standing in front of him - feeling a little dizzy knowing you were upside down, but gravity was not an enemy here. It worked with you wherever you chose to go.

“Hey,” you lowered your voice. “It scared me, too, getting shot at like that and nearly falling to my death. I didn’t think it would matter this much to you.”

“Why are you so jealous of Elise?” he asked tiredly. “ You’re the one who sent me after her. You wanted her free. I did everything you asked of me - I wasn’t out there because I WANTED to be.”

“I-I know,” your face was red. “I guess I was feeling a little self-conscious. I’ve felt that way my entire time here.” 

He faced you again, and reached out to grasp your hand in his. “I don’t want to hear you doubting yourself. I chose to be with you, and I’m not going back on that decision even if you forced me to. I love you, Detective, and I don’t want to see you go so soon.” 

Your mouth fell open at those words - that was it. That’s always been it, hasn’t it? Hanging between you two for God-knows-how-long, waiting to see who would accept it first. Curioso had given you his soul, showed you his deepest vulnerabilities, and gave away his life to serve and help you. You had never felt so fulfilled until he was around, having someone so close who was incredibly loyal to you. Someone who made you laugh and smile every day. Someone so incredible - who could do anything he wanted and impress crowds with what he could do. 

You were lucky to have him. And his affection? His love ? 

You closed your eyes, and the tears finally fell. You gripped his hand tighter, leaning forward as you sobbed. “I love you, too. And I don’t want to leave you.” 

You were collapsing, but before that could happen, he pulled you into his lap and allowed you to cry. To express all the frustration, helplessness, fear, and pain that you felt…you’d spent so long denying what you felt and never imagined what would happen if you embraced it. Curioso brushed the hair out of your face as you pressed even closer to him, burying yourself in the glittery fabric of his clothes and holding onto him for dear life. 

Not only had he saved your life, but he had given it to you as well.

[quibble-auk]

Nah I really gotta get a name for this. But I suck at them. So part… I actually don’t know… like six I think? Maybe it’s five?

Yeah, more of that one thing where Jeopardy and Dropmix are being dysfunctional little guys.

@thebrokenmechanicalpencil

—

It had been six days.

Six long, dragging, excruciatingly polite days, and he was not any closer to figuring out how much Jeopardy knew. Dropmix was still grasping at strings, trying to piece together what the medic had figured out.

Each interaction was tense, too professional, and suffocating. Each attempt Dropmix made to connect, to bridge the gap, was turned down with a calculated and cool response. The dark mech was never ignored, shunned perhaps, but always acknowledged to some extent.

He was turned down, locked out, and rejected. He had gained no ground with Jeopardy, but he hadn’t lost any, not exactly—the void between them got deeper instead of getting wider.

Dropmix had finally been deemed well enough to work again, his imprisonment in the private room was finally over. It gave him more opportunities to reach out, Jeopardy couldn’t avoid him as easily. They had to interact, had to speak and be around each other. It should have given Dropmix an advantage, he should have been repairing the damage and effortlessly slipping back into the normal routine. They should have talked about the incident and given Dropmix the opportunity to clear any suspicions.

Jeopardy never brought up the mission or the gas. Not even once. But he hadn’t really spoken, either. Not to Dropmix, not in the way he used to.

The large mech was starting to feel like he was bleeding out in silence.

Not literally—his systems were fine. No leaks. No critical errors. His ventilation systems were almost as good as new. But there was something in his chest that felt cracked open, raw and exposed, like every time Jeopardy passed him in the corridor without really looking, it carved a little deeper.

Dropmix felt like he was shouting across a canyon that swallowed up his attempts to reach out rather than echoing and amplifying them.

It stung, each failed attempt tore at something deep in his core, it buried its teeth deeper than humiliation or shame ever did. Every excuse and polite decline made a primal desperation rise in him, it clawed up his throat and tore into the seams of his mind. His mask slipped and cracked, and he was left fumbling for rehearsed lines, reading over the script he knew so well.

Dropmix was caught trying to dance with a partner who refused to move. Each attempt to dip or spin was met with resistance, so Dropmix improvised. He did what he must to keep the show going, he performed. He played his part, put extra effort into each smile and friendly chuff, forced tame works in hopes that something would spark and they could continue as a duet.

Nothing was working.

They still shared space—barely. Handovers, medbay tasks, and reports, each interaction swamped in a tension so thick it buzzed under Dropmix’s plating like faulty wiring. Jeopardy hadn’t been cold. Not exactly. Just... formal. Efficient. Controlled.

Distant.

Dropmix hated it more than shouting. At least yelling meant fire. Fire meant fuel.

With Theremin it had always been like that, things bubbling up under the surface until one of them snapped. They yelled, told the other what was wrong through harsh words and bitter feelings. Then they would split, dwell, simmer in the aftermath as they processed and eventually come together again.

They would talk, sort things out, explain. Apologize. But they would move on, try to do better, have the weight off their chest. Maybe not the healthiest, but it worked. They communicated, told the other what they did wrong or how they made them feel instead of leaving the other to guess.

This was not that, there was no fire.

This?

This was a vacuum.

Now, the medbay was quiet again—late shift, lights dimmed to that same tired, blue-toned glow. The music hadn’t been on in days. Jeopardy had shut it off and Dropmix had resorted to his internal comms to play it. The few attempts he made to turn the music back on the speakers were efficiently shut down. Jeopardy was never rude or crass, suggesting rather than demanding.

Dropmix almost didn’t listen, he wanted the music to be on, he didn’t want to deal with the additional effort it took to keep it running on his comms. This was his medbay, he was in charge, he would not be ordered around by Jeopardy. But he didn’t want to strain whatever was left with the other medic, so he listened.

The music was shut off without any further questions. Neither of them said anything about it, but Dropmix noticed the silence like a missing tooth. He saw the refusal for what it was, an act of defiance, a constant reminder that everything wasn’t alright.

The quiet was screaming at him in Jeopardy’s place.

Tonight was no exception, it seemed. The silence gnawed at Dropmix’s thoughts, picking apart the last threadbare hopes he hadn’t quite admitted he was clinging to.

He’d finished the inventory cycles two hours ago. All the supplies were aligned. All the data was clean. There wasn’t a single damn thing left to fix, except the one thing he couldn’t touch. The one thing that was most important.

Dropmix sat alone on the edge of a diagnostics berth, flexing a rag through his fingers. He mindlessly wiped down the surface in front of him, trying to keep himself busy. It was already clean. Everything in the medbay was clean. Immaculate, actually. Jeopardy had gone through earlier and done a full sweep, his movements efficient, surgical.

He hadn’t said a word the entire time.

Now, Jeopardy was gone again. Off shift. Probably in his quarters, or perhaps socializing with the other mechs on base. He once may have lingered with Dropmix, accompanying him even though he was free to go. Not anymore. Jeopardy only lingered as long as he had to.

The dark mech huffed, eye narrowing at the berth before him like he could somehow intimidate it into spilling all of the answers he needed. The music in his comms swelled, sweet strings echoing the melody with dainty steps as the woodwinds fluttered along. A gentle song, hailing from a distant organic planet. This one had been a part of Theremin’s personal collection that was left in the ruins of the Pits.

It was one of Jeopardy’s favorites.

Dropmix didn’t hear the door until it hissed open and boots stepped inside. He looked up too quickly. Some part of him still stupidly hoping—

But it wasn’t Jeopardy.

Rumbleclutch.

Massive, dented, always smelling faintly of ozone and engine grease. He ducked through the door like the frame was too narrow for him, his plates slightly flared with practiced discipline—they always were, it was a show of rank. It was not an angry display, but a confident one, it demanded respect. By all means, the hulking frame of the outposts Commanding Officer was an intimidating sight for most.

Not Dropmix. He could pinpoint each weakness within seconds of seeing the other, he saw the slight limp, the exposed seams, the restrictive armor. Rumbleclutch was a force to be recorded with—any military frame of his stature was—but so was Dropmix.

There always seemed to be a mutual understanding of that between them.

The mottled gray and navy mech was holding something in one large hand, a datapad, military-standard. His expression was unreadable, not warm but not unfriendly either. His amber eyes swept the medical bay once before lingering on Dropmix.

The dark mech straightened, reflexively. Quelling down any natural desire to challenge or defend what was his. The display was not meant to provoke or challenge, simply enforce—it made his plating itch regardless, the numb static of his mind buzzing obnoxiously in his skull.

“Sir,” Dropmix didn’t smile, but he carefully crafted his expression to be warm, welcoming and respectful. Rumbleclutch wasn’t one to drop by unannounced, and he wasn’t due for any maintenance either, “Is there anything I can help you with today?”

Rumbleclutch didn’t answer immediately. He glanced around the medbay like he didn’t quite recognize it, then gave a grunt, half-thoughtful. “No music?”

The darker bot shrugged, ignoring the way his plates flared under his armor. “Wasn’t in the mood.”

Rumbleclutch grunted again, noncommittal. His optics slid to the speakers overhead, then back to Dropmix, expression still unreadable. His steady voice was as emotionless as ever, “Hm. I’ll have to inform Saberfire to update her betting pools.”

Dropmix blinked, single eye widening. “I’m sorry?”

The mottled mech’s mouth twitched. Not quite a smile—he didn’t do those unless someone was dying or just got promoted, sometimes both—but the lines of his jaw eased. “She had money on you playing music until the war ended or you were physically incapable of doing so.”

“I’ll be sure to send my condolences.” Dropmix’s voice was flat, but he let a sliver of warmth seep in. A blanket of familiarity and fondness wrapped around each word as he continued, “You didn’t come down here for banter, I assume?”

“No,” Rumbleclutch agreed, stepping closer, datapad still in one thick hand. “I didn’t.”

The medic’s fingers twitched around the rag. He set it down slowly.

A beat passed. Two.

He extended the datapad, holding it out the same way one might offer a weapon mid-duel—neutral, cautious, with the understanding it could change everything depending on how it was received.

Dropmix took it.

He scanned the screen, expecting… something routine. A roster change. A new supply intake. A requisition order, maybe, or disciplinary notice for one of the rowdier interns who’d knocked over the coolant monitors again.

He didn’t expect the header—his vents hitched.

The slightly larger mech straightened—if at all possible—as his amber eyes looked over Dropmix. His plates flared more, just enough to almost be unnoticeable, the only tell the CO had. “With the reason specified it’s customary for me to analyze the subordinate’s officer and ensure that they are still fit for their role.”

Dropmix nodded mindlessly, the datapad oddly heavy in his hand. His armor pressed into him more, suffocating, making his straining vents hiss with effort to suck in air. His jaw tightened, dull teeth grating together as he stared down at the offending screen.

—

TRANSFER REQUEST: JEOPARDY.

Outpost: 06—Aubris Ridge.

Junior Medical Officer.

Requested Reason: Personnel Conflict (unspecified).

Status: PENDING CO APPROVAL.

—

Dropmix’s thumb hovered over the screen, the pad of his finger resting just above the edge of Jeopardy’s signature. Two days ago.

He’d submitted it two fragging days ago.

Dropmix’s spark gave a stuttering twist behind his plating. The silence of the medbay roared in his audials again, louder this time, more personal—hollow and accusatory. The music in his comms reared, amplifying and squandering any rising emotion. It stung, a migraine blossoming across Dropmix’s processor. His jaw tightened further, blunt fingertips gripping the datapad harder in an attempt to stabilize himself.

The betrayal twisted deep, hollowing out his compressing chest. His spark thrummed loudly, twisting into something cruel. That primal desperation and need roared, beating painfully against the armor that encased it, like a beast in a cage. An overwhelming possessive anger rooted in his frame, recoiling against the music. It spread like an infection, burning and unforgiving.

He looked up slowly, eye locking with Rumbleclutch’s. Somehow, he managed to keep himself composed. The CO didn’t look away. He never did. His gaze was a solid wall—one Dropmix had crashed into more than once, but tonight it was different. Not hostile. Just... braced. The way a structure braces before a blast.

"He's serious?" Dropmix asked, though his voice barely passed as a question. It was too even. Too calm.

Rumbleclutch didn’t answer right away. He glanced at the datapad still clenched in Dropmix’s hand, then slowly brought his gaze back up. “I was rather surprised, you both always seemed close.”

Dropmix’s hand twitched. He didn’t flinch. Didn't crumble. His entire frame was too practiced, too well-trained for that. But his plating shifted under the surface like a storm was building inside him, and only a brittle shell was keeping it contained. The music pressed against his helm, drowning out the rising unwanted emotions.

There was anger, hurt, betrayal, and fear—Dropmix hated it, the relentless terror that gripped his spark at the idea of Jeopardy leaving. It hid among the rising rage, seeping through the cracks of his anger.

It hurt, electricity running through his frame as programs fought to keep him compliant. His internal temperature rose as his vents struggled and the electrical current strengthened. He let himself lean against the berth in front of him, acting as if he was just shifting his weight.

"Two days," Dropmix murmured, the words bitter in his mouth, fingers flexing. “He couldn’t even—”

He cut himself off. His vents hitched again, his entire torso stuttering with the effort of breathing through it. Rumbleclutch watched him in silence.

“I’m assuming you came to assess if I’m the problem,” Dropmix said eventually, voice sharp around the edges now. Still not angry. Just dangerously close.

“You’ve never given me a reason to doubt your work, and I respect your privacy,” The CO’s tone remained level, voice sturdy and unwavering, “The evaluation has already been run, you have a perfect record, Dropmix, where he does not. There is no reason for me to inspect further, I’m simply here to inform you of the pending decision.”

Dropmix didn’t move.

He felt like if he did—if he shifted so much as a fraction of an inch—something inside him would break loose and start to burn. Like letting himself speak too much, move too fast, would mean the entire dam would give way and drag everything down with it. All his pride. All his restraint. Everything he'd spent cycles building just to stay functional.

He stared at the datapad again.

TRANSFER REQUEST: JEOPARDY.

He knew the phrasing. He’d read and signed enough of them over the years—transfers, resignations, post-battle reallocations. He knew what it meant when someone didn’t list a specific conflict. It meant there was one. And that the person on the receiving end of it would never be told the full reason why.

The dark mech would never get to know what pushed him away, just that something did. Some unraveling of the truth that he failed to mend would cost him Jeopardy—Dropmix would lose everything.

He couldn’t let that happen.

Dropmix’s voice, when it came again, was low. Flat. “What happens if I reject it?”

Rumbleclutch didn’t answer right away. Not because he didn’t know, Dropmix was sure—but because he knew exactly what that question meant, and what it didn’t.

He crossed his arms over his broad chest, hydraulics whining faintly with the motion. “If you reject it, the request goes up the chain. I will have to do a more thorough evaluation of the situation and your suitability for your current position.”

The mottled mech’s voice wasn’t a warning. It wasn’t a threat. It was fact—solid and irrefutable, like the weight of a locked door. The implication settled between them like a thick, choking fog.

Dropmix knew what it meant.

He knew how thin the wire was. How close everything had been to unraveling since the mission. Since the gas. From the moment Jeopardy started looking at him like he was a stranger.

It didn’t matter how hard he worked or how perfectly he performed—if it came down to a thorough search, revealing his secrets… he’d lose.

He’d lose Jeopardy anyway.

The datapad still trembled faintly in his grip, the flicker of his internal stabilizers barely compensating. His thumb dragged just above Jeopardy’s signature, not quite touching it, but tracing the shape like it would offer answers. It didn’t. It never did.

Dropmix inhaled, a deep, calculated vent. His optics dimmed briefly, a false calm washing over him like a shutter between stormfronts. When he spoke, it was quieter than before, but no less steady. “Let me talk to him.”

Rumbleclutch was quiet again. Not in hesitation—he didn’t do hesitation—but in consideration. Watching. Calculating.

And Dropmix could feel it.

That measured, tactical silence, the kind that could either open a door or seal it shut. It slid under his plating and curled around the back of his neck like ice. If Rumbleclutch said no, that would be it. No more careful silences. No more eye contact in the halls. No more Jeopardy in his medbay. Just a blank space where something vital used to live. Something fragile and strange and important.

Jeopardy would be gone forever.

The thought alone made his engine stall and his spark stutter.

After a few long seconds, the CO inclined his head, just barely.

“I’ll give you until tomorrow,” Rumbleclutch said. “You have one conversation. You don’t change his mind, I process the request.”

The words weren’t sharp, but they were heavy. Steel-clad and absolute.

Dropmix nodded once. He didn’t argue. He didn’t push. He just accepted the terms with a quiet dignity, like a soldier handed a weapon too old and worn for a clean shot.

Rumbleclutch didn’t linger. He turned with military efficiency, boots echoing once on the polished floor, before the door hissed shut behind him.

Then the silence returned.

It felt different now. Heavier. More final. Like a looming threat, the silence that would consume his life if Jeopardy did leave.

Dropmix stared at the datapad for a long time before he finally set it down on the berth beside him. He exhaled, long and trembling, and let his frame slump forward just a little, shoulders bowing like the weight had finally sunk claws into his joints.

One conversation.

One shot.

He couldn’t screw this up.

[alien-above]

My second coming out.

I think I was 18 when I came out as a lesbian. I don’t remember definitive moments of telling my friends. In many ways they knew before I did. Maybe it was all the drunk rambling about hot women when I lost my inhibitions. It must’ve been, because for all of my teenage years, I had been hanging up posters of male tv show actors and male band members and declaring they were attractive. I remember one afternoon where I was looking through a Kerrang magazine and I was gushing over how hot the lead singer of All Time Low was. Or maybe it was the guitarist. I really can’t remember. And at that time I genuinely thought that I was attracted to whichever one it was, and any other man that I had talked about. I really did. Because being attracted to men, being straight, was the norm and I had never questioned if I was actually feeling that way, or just blindly going along with what everyone else thought. And I suppose at 14/15/16/17 I had never experienced true attraction so I really had no way of actually knowing back then. And maybe that’s weird. Maybe I was weird. Or maybe, again, I just never had the time and space to consider the other gender or any gender, consider who I was.

But at around 18 I had sort of a revelation about women, without really understanding what it meant. Suddenly it was female actors and musicians I was obsessing over, talking about constantly and hanging up pictures of. And that felt right. It really did. I was finally certain about what attraction felt like. And when my brain and emotions caught up to what that meant for me, there just became casual talk in my friend group about me being a lesbian. Never any judgment or doubtful questions from their side. It just fell into my place. And I was so grateful and relieved to be accepted, that life just sailed on after that. But I also never did a lot of “soul searching” about it. Honestly the process of coming out seemed to happen completely without me in a way. Suddenly it just was. And that was it. I had a label now, and that would define my future. I really wish I would’ve given myself more time. Asked for more time, grown up a bit more before settling into something that in a way was just as much a directive of who I was supposed to be, as being straight had been.

I know many people want any lgbtq+ person to know their sexuality or gender when they start feeling and especially expressing being outside of the given norm. As if knowing a persons label restores the balance of things and the world makes sense again. It’s like they’re saying “well if you’ve gotta be different then you at least owe us an explanation of exactly what is so different about you”.

Fuck that. Whether you’re 5 or 12 or 25 or 50 or 90, you don’t owe anyone anything, you don’t have to explain, you don’t have to cram yourself into a nice little box with a nice little label, just so other people know where to store you.

I know that some people think that it’s ridiculous and attention seeking if a person decides to not label themselves, like it’s trendy to not only “want” to be different but also to “decide” that you’re so different that you’re not comfortable with these “perfectly well-fitted labels that everyone else can use so why can’t you, and just give us some peace”

Some people find power in labels and that’s amazing. Other people find just another set of expectations and dictations of who you’re supposed to be and who you’re allowed to be.

And without knowing it at the time, I had let myself be put into a box, before I had even come to terms with who I was.

I told my family in quite an unexpected way. As a protest against their generally homophobic talk. I wasn’t by any means ready to come out, I had barely been figuring things out, very barely confident enough to be myself. But I pushed myself to do it one night, because I was sick of hearing them talk like that, and a part of me thought that if they knew I wasn’t straight, then it would force them to have to reevaluate their thinking and speaking.

That night, that coming out, it wasn’t for me, it was for every other person out there, sat at a dining table feeling ashamed and rejected. It was a challenge in a way. One that I won, my family doesn’t speak like that anymore, they support me and I like to think that they’ve grown to see the world in a different way as the years have gone by.

But it happened. I was now out of the closet to the people closest to me. And I was a lesbian.

I was 18 or 19 back then. Now I’m 27. And I feel stuck and ashamed and uncertain. I’m hiding. And I’m so terrified that my closest friends will think differently of me, if I ever tell them that I’m not sure. I’m so scared that I will let them down, that they will feel betrayed or that they will think that I’ve been lying to them for all these years (and I guess that part is true), that I’m a fraud who was just desperate to be a lesbian.

I came out years ago.

But then 2 days ago I watched Red White & Royal blue, and season 2 of Heartstopper in the same day.

And I got this sort of pressing sadness in my chest, this overwhelming need to be able to be myself, because i knew and I know that I’m not free, I’m not out of the godforsaken closet in the way that is who I am. I think I’m bi, actually.

And what a terrible shame. Terrible, terrible shame. Shame on me. How dare I be the person who proves that every lesbian can be turned by a good-looking man? How dare I ask people to have to change their perception of me? How dare I be 27 and not know for certain who I am?

It’s messing with my head so much that I’m afraid I can never be honest. It’s messing with me so much that I feel like I’ve been slowly drowning in a cage for years and now there’s barely any air left. It feels like if I don’t get those words out soon then I’m not gonna make it. It’s so heavy.

And being openly bisexual, from what I’ve gathered, is not a fun rollercoaster to be on. You’ll be questioned and analyzed and doubted, you’ll have to constantly stand up for your own sexuality because it’s too fluid for pea-sized brains to understand, every romantic or sexual experience you have will be either a defeat or a success in the lgbtq+ community, you’ll be sexualized, you’ll be asked to cross your own boundaries because it’s “hot”, you’ll be seen as more promiscuous, and probably so many more things I can’t think of right now.

Part of the reason I also haven’t told anyone yet, is the simple reason that it’s easier to brush men off that you don’t want attention from, by saying that you’re a lesbian, so they’re wasting their time. It’s an easy out I’ve used many times. And I’ve felt so wrong about it every time because it’s simply not true. And what a fucked up world, that it’s easier to throw the lesbian card than it is to simply say no and have that be respected. But that’s an entirely different talk.

Am I really ready to face all of this, to have that conversation with friends and family, to admit that I’m not a lesbian and that I’m still figuring things out? To have to explain what to me is very personal, about how attraction works for me? To have to then also open up about the differences I feel with romantic and sexual attraction? To explain that I’m also not quite sure if maybe I’m somewhere on the demisexual spectrum as well? And is it too much to ask for them to understand that particular part as well? To have to lay bare every single moment of confusion and realization that has led me to have to speak up to be free? In a way it feels like I’m going to court and I might lose. Well I feel quite certain that I’ll lose and that for a very long time, I’ll be stuck in that courtroom until I’ve explained enough, to peoples satisfaction.

As if this isn’t about me wanting to be happy, it’s about making sure that the people around me are happy with who I am.

I just want to be me. I want to not have to be careful about what I say, I want to be able to gush as much about Henry Cavill as I can gush about Anya Chalotra, I want the freedom to fall in love with a person, without having to stress about whether or not it’s a woman. I want to be able to talk about attraction without hiding half of me, without suffocating myself in the process.

I want to be allowed to be 27 and still be figuring things out.

But still, I’m so afraid of what will happen. And it’s simply just not fucking fair that I have to be afraid. I have never even written about this before, too afraid to put actual words to how I’ve been feeling for so long, too afraid of making it real. But I’m taking a chance, and posting it here, hoping that maybe it will be a step on the way.

If anyone reads this, then please be kind ❤️

[ringlorn]

"Hey, I'm back with the stuff!"

Nezha all but glides in through the back door, arms laden with grocery bags while his Wheels do the work of leading him into the kitchen. Why his roommate wanted so much soymilk he'll never know, but he trusts Macaque's cooking skills.

Even if he makes lotus root dishes far too often.

There was a sale on kale this week—Nezha doesn't know whether Macaque would use that, but he buys one bunch anyways, figuring the macaque can always whip up extra snacks to take to his boyfriend, or Liu'er, or whoever he runs into around the city. Most of the time he doesn't know what the guy gets up to at all since his shadows make him virtually invisible—but that's on him for not really caring. The rest of the time they spend passing each other in the halls, through the windows, or actually sharing sauce over the meal table (and isn't that weird enough, him eating with a monkey that isn't Sun), living more or less...like roommates do, he guesses.

He's not sure why Macaque doesn't just move in with Monkey King at this point—they obviously like each other and even the third guy's been accepted by both—but it's the same question he could ask himself: why not move in with Sun? Too many monkeys, is his first reaction, but honestly the threat of Zhang San coming back someday and seeing the two of them in one house is what really keeps him in check.

(If he wanted to win over Sun, he would've done it first and a thousand years earlier rather than settle for second place now.)

Once in front of the fridge, Nezha opens it up and starts to put stuff around what's already inside, finally used to the proper placement of things. (Honestly, the looks he'd gotten from putting vegetables next to raw meat once upon a time?)

"Do you want me to take out any of this stuff?" he keeps talking as he works. ostensibly to no one. But having a roommate with six ears means you can whisper and he'll hear you just fine, so he might as well been shouting right now.

It's Nezha himself who needs to strain his ears for a response, only to hear nothing. He checks the clock on the wall—it's getting on evening, so the guy should be home to cook? Unless he ran off to hang with Monkey King again and pranked Nezha into coming back to an empty house or something.

Pah, joke's on him. He's rich enough to order takeout for the rest of his life.

Closing the fridge, the lotus prince saunters to the family room, still talking to empty air. "Also, do you know any good cooks? I mean, guys who do it for a living. A friend of mine's thinking to hire...I don't know where to get that kind of chef, snipe 'em from a restaurant or something?"

That's probably the easiest way to do it, but otherwise he was looking at online research instead. Magnolia could do that herself. It was also a pretty stupid question so he's expecting a snarky comeback, but the fact that no one replies is pretty telling.

Macaque's not home.

Just in case, Nezha decides to float upstairs, planning to listen in on the guy from outside his room. If the monkey's not sleeping, sick, or well, dealing with stuff like last time, he's likely MIA.

He doesn't expect to see Macaque's bedroom door standing ajar by the time he reaches the landing though. Exasperated, Nezha dismisses his Wheels and stalks over noisily on foot. "C'mon, you've never been this obvious with bait—"

The door creaks open. The inside is bare.

This...what, did he actually move out?

Looking around the empty space makes the ends of Nezha's hairs stand on end. It takes a moment before he unfreezes enough to scramble through his pockets for his phone. Fingers scrolls through his contacts—nothing, no name—then social media, where people are posting about the eclipse that dropped by while he was obliviously browsing the aisles of the supermarket.

Gone, just like that.

He's not sure what he feels at the moment. Honestly, the ones who should be missing him are—again, more scrolling back and forth—still here, so that's gotta suck. The other guy's gone too, though Nezha doesn't recall him as much as he does Monkey King with him, and—his brows wrinkle, thinking back to the fridge.

It's full of food, and right now he's the only one living in this house.

...tomorrow. He'd deal with it tomorrow. Keep what he could eat, donate the rest or something—it'd be a joke if he tried to cook like Macaque, but wasting his ingredients is even worse.

Do I tell someone? No, they'd probably find out for themselves—and maybe even sooner than he did, since they were actually close. He and Macaque were—well, they couldn't be friends as far as Heaven was concerned, but they weren't enemies.

They were comfortable, Nezha decides, in their special brand of impersonalized co-living that had the guy bossing him around with a spatula in one hand and a pan full of spicy sizzling vegetables in the other to scrub the toilets already, it's only fair, Nezha, before setting a full bowl of food in front of him for lunch half an hour later.

Wordlessly, Nezha walks to the bedroom windows and throws one open. A late summer breeze trickles through the opening, hot and heavy, making it hard to breathe. He inhales it anyways—and then climbs onto the windowsill before stepping out entirely. Of course his Wheels catch him before he falls, and Nezha turns mid-air to hover outside his building, staring at the windows darkening with the onset of incoming rain clouds.

The houses here are never left empty for long—the Stars always fill them with new, confused faces every few days. He'll probably get a new roommate next time, but he'd have to figure out the groceries before that, and there's no telling how the other monkeys are going to cope with this all, or if they'll even drop by to check.

He frowns at that thought. Would it be better or worse for him to be there when they do?

If he keeps the window open, they can let themselves in—or just use the balcony, another favorite. There's been no issue of thieves in this area of city so he can keep things unlocked—the locals know better to try against all the superpowered weirdos they get every month moving in. And even if nobody comes—

Well, maybe he's the one who needs time to readjust to living by himself again.

Nezha looks at his phone and decides to book a hotel for the night.

[frozen-fountain]

Find the Word Tag

Thanks again to @vcaudley; I'm leaving this one open to anyone who wants to do it.

Rules: Search your writing for the following words, and post an excerpt containing them. I give you grey, ocean, bitter, and ash.

Bind

“It was only a toy to you!” she cried, voice reedy and thin. The only one left. “It was half of me, and now it's gone!” Once, she could have propelled herself through the window and left only a star shower of broken glass ringing in her wake, racing through the sky where no hand or mind could bind her ever again. Once, she could have taken her body and ran, higher and faster than any measurer or plunderer could ever soar. She sank back to her seat on legs that turned to shifting sand beneath her heart. No choice, no choice, no choice but to wear the crown that bound her forehead – but they had to put it on her first. She could've melted it all over Kefka's harrowing hands, cleared a path with but a wave of her hand, grabbed the arm of the other little girl before it turned to ice and ran, ran through the hell of fluctuating dials and hissing steam where her people lived in glass cages. And then, and if, they might never - “You'll never know what it's like to be torn in two! Twice!”

In Widening Circles (Final Fantasy VI, Terra forms a support group for the former Kefka cultists, slice of life/character study)

Ring

“You gotta slow down, sweetheart, we're old and we ain't on spry little legs like yours!” She turned back and waited dutifully by the steps down to the dining area, and he leaned in and nudged Elmyra's side, lowering his voice to a husky whisper. “Packed the sailor suit, just so you know. Figured there'd never be a better place for it.” She laughed then, like she did that first day she found the thing in his closet, that low and dirty laugh that came out late in the evening after a few sips of wine. The long mirror in the pokey inn bathroom in Costa made him gleam, softened by the ring of lights that framed it. The dark and hunger of the slums hadn't eaten away at the muscle the mines put on him, and not a smudge of soot marred the white. As pure as snow, as new teeth, as Rufus Shinra parading at the prow of the boat. Aerith had giggled as she told him how cute he looked in it, the strip of pink in her hair bobbing up and down as she raised a hand to her mouth. But she giggled a lot, no matter how serious the situation, before whatever she saw in Bugenhagen's observatory sank her sunshine.

Aperture Priority (Final Fantasy VII, Barret visits Corel post-canon, psychological drama)

Silence

The city was wrapped in silence as Zuela left the light of their room behind her, throwing the loose thread free as she went. If the jungles of the south were abundant with fruit and flower and song, the north was abundant with space. The tall white trees that glowed with the very voice of the planet lined the pathways and made a loose roof that protected the city from the ravages of the polar wind. A full moon cast pools of silver light on the floor, shifting with the world's breath. Zuela hopped and darted in the shadows between them where no sentry could see her.

Clownfish (Final Fantasy VII, Jenova and the Cetra, horror/suspense)

Rest

There is no light in freefall, no night, no day, no clock, no wall, no end, the only meter the hymn that dreams a city far beyond their island, and all that is real are the chains that lie invisible over her heart. With stone lungs she breathes beneath them, a sigh that moves through all the world. Somewhere, elsewhere, here, there is a tumbledown temple where she cut her son's nails with a knife rough-hewn from a stray piece of flint, and where she taught him to die with purpose. “Our island is small, my love,” she said, placing a decisive kiss on the crown of his head as they sat under the broken doorway, uncrossed by any other feet for countless years. He waited, rapt and without complaint, as she stripped the scales from slender fish bare-handed to boil in brackish water. “But one day, the rest of this world will be ready for you. Your father is working very hard to make it so.” “And that's why he can't come see us?”

Penitent (Final Fantasy X, Anima character study, psychological body horror)

[scribeofskyrim]

Morndas, 22nd of Sun's Dusk, 4E 201

SOMEONE STOLE THE HORN!

And they did it just to lure me to Riverwood for… Something, I don't know but it makes me want to forge a thousand nails but I'm too damn tired.

Still gotta write, though. I need to do something, and this is what I have the energy for. This and drinking wine. The others are just as mad about it as I am.

So, obviously, we went to Ustengrav as soon as we were ready this morning. The dead bandits were still there outside, at least what was left of them. Inside we found that the necromancers had been back and managed to clear out a side passage!

We were thrilled we wouldn't have to dig, but as we started down the tunnel, we heard the sounds of battle. There were mages in there, and they were fighting draugr!

We followed the sound, and ended up fighting both the mages and draugr. We were in a wide corridor, and there was some sort of trap, probably a fireball one, powered by soul gems. They'd been deactivated, luckily, probably by the mages.

There we found two rooms with lots of urns, half of them empty, but with good loot. I found chests, too. There were lots of potions, enough that we were surprised. It was potions and gold, mostly. Little strange, but I'm not complaining. We also found what was obviously a "secret" door. It rang hollow when I tapped it with my pommel.

Yes, that's where we came out later.

I wonder why the builders always do that. I mean, unless you put the draugr in as you go and they're… "active" when you leave, like setting a trap. Oh, and there were so many traps!

Ya know, that's probably why. It would leave the traps all set and ready to go, and the draugr patrolling, if they awakened.

We kept going, and found what looked for all the world like a dining area? There were tables set with dishes, and a head table on a dais in front of them. It was strange. Why would you put a dining room in a tomb?

There was food, though, and some of it was fresh. We figured the mages probably ate there. I mean, it's all ready to go. Why not?

There were draugr everywhere, but not so many it was overwhelming at all, and they weren't that strong. We didn't find any mages after that first section. Strangely, we also found dead draugr. As in, they were ready to fight, and had been struck down. Recently, too.

We all thought it strange, and kept going. We also found open doors, but no sign of more mages.

We eventually came out near the top of a massive cavern! There's a hole in the top, big enough to let in light for trees to grow. I could hear a waterfall somewhere down below. It was misty and I could barely make out the very bottom, but there's a middle level at the far end that we could easily see. That area was built upon, with a throne and benches at one end, and a tall platform with a flight of steps going up to it. In the middle of the cavern were tall pillars going from floor to ceiling, with platforms and arched walkways between them. Most were crumbled away, but there were some ramps going down that were still good.

There was only one draugr by the entrance, and the rest of our enemies were skeletons. We managed to take care of them with fireballs and arrows. It was easy, actually. We just stayed up top on one of the platforms and cleared the place out.

Once it was clear, I decided to try to Sprint across an open space between the platforms with my new Shout. The others weren't sure it would work, but there was only one way to find out!

And it did work! I managed to get to a side platform on the far rock wall of the cave. In it I followed a short tunnel to a small room with a chest and more treasure! More gold and potions, along with a Scroll of Blizzard. Nice.

One wall of the room was probably once an open archway, but now it's mostly blocked by rubble and thick vines. My friends were shouting for me to be careful, and I waved at them through one of the holes, and said I'd be right back.

I was able to safely jump down from the little platform up above, and we went around to see what we could find on this level. There wasn't much aside from some weak healing potions and what the skeletons had on them, so we went up the steps. The top level was nothing but a blanket of fire panel traps!

I told the others to wait, and I used my Sprint to run across. I did drink a fire resistance potion beforehand, though. I was NOT going to risk getting burned to a crisp if I set them off!

I was safe though, and looked around. A few more potions and a few coins, but that was it.

We went down a dirt ramp to the lower level, where there were trees and the waterfall. Through the mist I could see a Dragon Wall.

Soon enough, I could hear chanting in my head, but as I jogged up to the Wall, an arrow flew out of nowhere and just missed me!

Past the Wall, to the right of the falls, is a built area with a wooden ramp going up to a narrow platform on the side wall. There was a skeleton patrolling up there, but before it could take another shot an Elven arrow flew back and shattered it.

I thanked Lydia as she put her bow away, then went to the glowing runes chanting at me from the Wall.

The light was a soft blue this time, with ghostly whispers in my ears. While I didn't feel any sort of force pushing me, I felt strangely weak, and could feel myself sinking to the ground.

I could feel Valdimar grab me to keep me upright, but it felt like he was far away, like I wasn't entirely in my body. I felt his grip tighten, and I was vaguely aware that he was struggling to get his hands under my arms to keep me up.

When I came to, I was flat on my back and they were all looking at me like they'd seen a ghost. Septim was whining and snuffling at my hands. He was wagging his tail and he looked so relieved! When they told me what they saw, I understood why.

My eyes turned a misty blue color, and wisps of blue-white smoke surrounded me. They said I started to look a little "fuzzy" around the edge, and Valdimar said that when he went to keep me standing, his hands felt like they weren't touching anything for a moment.

He shivered and said that it was like his hands went through me a little, and he had trouble keeping a grip. That's why he switched to holding me up with his hands under my armpits, but he described it like trying to hold water pouring from a bucket!

We couldn't really understand it at the time, but soon enough we figured out what the Shout could do.

The little built section by the waterfall has three short stone pillars in it, about hip-high. They're arranged in a triangle, with a flat side facing away from the far wall. The flat sides also have dragons carved on them. On the far side was a series of iron gates, and we couldn't see any way to open them.

When Septim went up to sniff at one of the stones, a red glow appeared and we could hear a strange, bell-like tone emit from it.

The first gate opened, then closed after a few seconds.

We found that each stone, when you went in front of the dragon carving, would glow red, make a noise, and then open a gate. The gates would close no matter how fast we ran at them, and having everyone stand in front of a stone didn't keep them open for any longer. The stones seemed to "know" if the person going towards the gate was the same one who triggered it. I'd have to run through, then use my Shout to rush past them. I could see pull chains between the gates to open them, so I wouldn't be stuck on the other side when they closed.

I was starting to yawn, and looked up at the opening in the ceiling of the cavern. It was late, and we considered just camping out there by the trees, but we all had a feeling that the tomb itself couldn't be far.

We decided to have a quick dinner, and we refilled our waterskins from the pool at the base of the falls.

I noticed a light coming through the water, and went to investigate.

There was a little secret tomb just past the falls, with a sarcophagus, a chest and a sword. As soon as my feet touched dirt, a draugr came out of the sarcophagus. He was a little tough, but no match for all of us.

We then went back to the stone pillars, and I got ready to run through the gates.

I don't think I'll ever get tired of the feel of that Shout. I wish I could explain the rush. It's amazing!

I was on the other side in an instant, and opened the gates for everyone else. Just past that was a room and corridor absolutely carpeted with flame tile traps!

Luckily, there was plenty of rubble along the sides, and everyone could easily stay up on them to get part the traps.

Unfortunately, Septim wanted to stick by me, and the safe spots were too small for the two of us to be on them at once!

I had an idea. I would go ahead on the tiles and lead Septim over the stones, BUT I would use my new Shout, first. If Valdimar had trouble touching me, maybe the fire would, too?

Of course I drank a Resistance potion, first! Being wrong would hurt.

So, I tried out my new Shout, and realized that I'd become like a ghost! I couldn't touch anything, but nothing could touch me, either!

I didn't know how long it would last, so I quickly hopped on the tiles and got Septim to follow me on the safe path, while the others were right behind him.

Just around the corner was a raised safe section that was unfortunately full of Frostbite Spiders, including one of those HUGE ones! They weren't too much trouble, but getting poisoned always makes me feel sick to my stomach for a little while afterwards.

There was a hallway just off that, covered in a thick wall of webs that we had to burn through. Once we were past, there was a short bit of hall, and at the end, a large gate with a pull chain to open it. We could see a large chamber just past it, with a raised walkway flanked by water on both sides. At the far end of the room we could see a large, ornate sarcophagus.

I pulled the chain, the gate opened, and we stepped inside the tomb itself.

Immediately the water started to churn, and we all got ready for a fight. Four huge dragon-headed statues rose from the water, two on each side, then stopped.

Here it is. It was amazing!

We were at the top of some steps, so we went cautiously down to the walkway, then went across to the sarcophagus. I kept expecting the statues to start spitting fire or something, but they seemed to be just normal stone.

We went up to the sarcophagus, and it's the fanciest one I've seen here in Skyrim so far! There are dragons carved on the sides, and dragon-headed statures with bits like wings at the corners. The top is like a roof with spikes along the edges like teeth, and there's an open hand sticking up from the peak.

Erandur says the Daedric script carved on the sides says "Windcaller".

In the open hand was a note.

Addressed to me!

Well, not me personally, but "Dragonborn". I read it aloud to the others. I have to rent the attic room (WHAT ATTIC?!) at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood to meet whoever sent it. It was signed "A Friend", but last I knew, friends don't go thwarting your plans and leaving mysterious notes!

There was no sign of the horn. My "Friend" had gotten to it, first.

I honestly didn't know whether to scream or to cry. I still don't, really!

I chose to scream, and set the note on fire.

Valdimar spat, crossed his arms, and scowled at the tomb, like it was somehow its fault. Erandur growled out curses in languages I thought I knew all the swear words for, and kicked a skull into the water.

Lydia just stood there, impassive as ever in that faceless Ebony helm. She tilted her head only slightly, and I know she was looking around the room, trying to figure out how the thief or thieves got in.

I saw the way out behind the tomb, so we left the chamber. I think Septim knew we were angry. He didn't bark or anything as we went out. There was another chest with some loot in it, along with more urns. There was also a pile of gold on a table, which honestly helped my mood a bit.

We don't have the horn, but we do have some gold, and that's good.

Soon enough, we were on the other side of the "secret" door, and got back here.

I grabbed some wine and sat down to start writing. Erandur sat and drank with me in silence for a bit, but soon got up to mix some potions, then hammer out a pile of nails. Lydia got three steps in the door and said that she needed to think, and asked Valdimar if he would come patrol with her. He readily agreed, and followed her out.

I'm still trying to figure out how and when all this happened. I mean, we've not been around much lately, so there was plenty of time for not only the mages to finish their tunnel, but for the thieves to sneak in and steal the horn. They had to have gone in the back way - There's no other explanation.

Unless someone in their group knew the Shout.

Or I'm not the only Dragonborn.

Erandur's finally stopped hammering nails and is down in the basement now, praying, I'm sure. Lydia and Valdimar are back from their patrol. They're cleaning some assassin blood off their armor, and seem to be doing much better. They also said that the assassin didn't have a contract for me on them or anything. In hindsight, the assassin seemed to be just passing through and maybe headed towards Solitude.

Oh, well. One less of them to come after me later.

I should sleep, or try to. It's well past midnight.

I'll figure out what to do in the morning.

---

Back | Next

[diah-the-demon]

yeah the vibe is different </3 it now feels less like a personal chat and more like a personal chat in a public space but what else can we do when tumblr keeps being homophobic TT-TT

yeah I hope so too!! I'll bring it up to her soon as we still have Sci-fi cons which we regularly attend bcs I think that'd be cool!

and aaaw that sounds adorable!! The Sci-Fi cons that I visit always have lots of kids that age running around with their plastik lightsabers and usually clone wars masks of Anakin and Obi Wan and it's the cutest thing to watch them run around and play out their ideas

yeah she probably won't ksjdlsk it's just that we're both so used of someone bitching at us for buying even the most necessary shit so we gotta get used to that no longer happening slkjdlsk I'll probably bring it up to her soon, maybe tomorrow after uni! Hell I can even pay for it myself, I still have a lot of unused money from the past few cons since I barely bought smth aside from postcards / small prints

ksjdslk you're going to have the sickest bookshelf if that works out! and I hope it does skdjsl But yeah that sounds like a solid idea as to where to put them!!

ooh I think with the shows coming out there should definitely be a spike on tutorials for them!! Though I highly doubt there weren't some to begin with with Star Wars being such a huge franchise!! (and yeah I think that could probably be a solid start!!)

Yeah that's also always what I have noticed (it's probably also one of the most comfortable options ngl skldjsk) I think attaching them is going to be the most tricky part but I bet there are tricks to do so very easily!

yeah it feels way more out in the open, like speaking into a microphone instead of like just a casual conversation sat at a table in the corner of the room.. we could switch to discord or insta dms if we want it less open but idk, feels weird when its not on tumblr

ooo that sounds like fun! i need to try going to a sci-fi con, i know they have some in edinburgh occasionally throughout the year so il see if i can maybe go there eventually

it was!! it was so fucking fun, i remember around that age me and my sister would have lightsaber duels occasionally, too bad the sabers were bad quality so i accidently broke mine when i hit it too hard </3 thankfully it was after halloween so i still had the saber for halloween, just imagine like an 8 or 9 year old with a darth vader mask and red lightsaber walking down a dimly lit street dsjdsslkdj

i remember when i went trick or treating later that day i used my vader helmet (well its more like a mask tbh, its only the front half of vaders helmet lol) as a bucket to keep my sweets and candy in dlskjdslkjds

thats fair i cant rlly blame you or her, it will probably take a long time to get over that (i know the feeling cause my mother is like that sometimes, its so fucking annoying. she does it less to me now cause i have my own money but still)

i hope it goes well when you talk to her about it!! i doubt she wont let you buy it but wishing it goes well anyways!! if you dont do it tomorrow tho do keep in mind the sale is i think only lasting 1 more week? (or until everything sells out) so dont leave it too long slksjdlskd

IK ITS GONNA BE SO COOL, id say my bookshelf is already pretty cool because ive got 2 shelfs of books (one is mostly manga and star wars books, other is recipe books and other misc books) i could put them in 1 shelf but ive done it that way so theres space on the shelf next to the books, so i can put the helmets next to the books!! thinking about it now i can prob get 2 on the bookshelf and then the other 2 could go ontop of it maybe, idk il figure that out when i get them dsjlkds

Edit: heres a pic of said book shelf, forgot to mention the (fake) plant that hangs infront of my manga!!! skdjd Ignore the basket on the second shelf of books btw thats just where i keep my socks rn lmao (and random clothes in the shelf below too sldjslskssjk, im working on it so ignore that)

Anyways i could totally fit a helmet or 2 in here, one where the origami book is and one where the basket is, then the rest can go ontop of the bookcase idk lol

oh yeah its def gonna be trending, i saw one for storm trooper armour a few months ago, not mandalorian but tbh they are close (i mean storm trooper armour was based on the clones armour which was based on mandalorian so it is connected lmao) even if there isnt im pretty sure i could probably figure it out on my own if i had to

i think the way il have to attach it is maybe velcro? cause pins could fall out and if i try to put it back on it will be in a slightly different area probably, so what im thinking is having small velcro patches put onto the body suit and some on the armour pieces!! probably wont work out how it is in my head when i finally do it but i can atleast have ideas until then lol

[spottedmischief]

Perhaps this whole thing had bothered him more than he let on. Perhaps it was her impatience that made him nervous. Perhaps it’s the fear that got him on the edge - all that fear cannot just come from getting blamed. There was something else going on but now he didn’t dare to ask. He already got enough that he barely got to process and he wasn’t sure how much more his furbrain was able to handle.

Perhaps he was just cautious not to make her upset. She is leader and an adult - one wrong word and she might forcefully drag him along, who knows.

Perhaps it’s because in a way, he gets it. Scar was terrifying and as time went on … maybe he wasn’t the legend they thought he was - now that thought process turned out to be true.

It was a nice offer and he appreciates that she clarified it can’t be rushed, but that doesn’t mean the thought of it was … Janja is the one who makes the decisions, not him. He wasn’t sure how to feel about any of that anyway - dad had taken the slow approach with him, understanding the confusion that it was a lot to take in that you have a dad after living for so long thinking his clan was the only family he knew. He didn’t ask him to join anything - it was the younger hyena who approached on his own accord again.

Though he was not sure how much of that has changed since he knew about Scar. Oh. Did dad send his leader after them for that? No, dad wouldn’t do that. Hopefully.

It’s just that - they all appeared so sudden after years of thinking Janja and Chungu were the only family they have known. Then he finds out - on his own too that everything they thought about the lion who helped hyenas was wrong. He doesn’t mind spending time with dad, he wants to get to know him better but to show up and ask to join a different clan? He barely knows them.

After everything they have been through together to just show up like that to say they would be safer there? Everything had been so frightening before he met Janja. They all settled in the clan. Janja as the leader, Chungu and him as second in command. Why would he want to give that all up? Why join a different clan where all what they fought for will happen again? To start from scratch?

Cheezi shakes his head. He got his mind stuck in a loop.

“Right,“ Janja, Scar, Kiburi, Reirei and Ushari never ask for input. Dad likely had bright ideas, didn’t he? Regardless-

He needs the time to process all that now. Clear his mind. Find someone familiar like his leader or Chungu. He just wants to be with his clan now.

“Listen, I uhm- gotta go ‘cause Janja is probably worried where I am by now,” he puts emphasis on the worried part as to not give her any idea that Janja might be some kinda bad leader. In his opinion, Janja wasn’t. It was his fault to begin with for messing up - and she already did say that she wants to speak with his leader about some things he told her - meaning he already gave her stuff that she’s not supposed to know about. He really needs to learn how to keep his mouth shut at times because if she talks to him, he knows that Janja is going to be upset with him later.

“Chungu likely too. Stayed out too long here already, so I gotta return to them - y'know, clan stuff."

He needs to process and figure out how to tell them but for now? He just wants their company. Or some space. Whatever comes first.

Shenzi could be impatient. She knew that much about herself, it's why she sometimes struggled to understand Ed. She was too impatient to slow down and dissect what he was trying to say.

Her ears folded back against her head and a slightly nervous smile showed her teeth as she thought back on what living in the same dens as the living 'Mad King' and the lionesses was like.

It wasnt a laughing matter that was for sure. Haha. Laughing matter.

"Never did laugh at any of our jokes, even before it all went to the dung heap." She snorted with an anxious giggle, the claws on one of her front paws digging into the dirt.

"Not yours....no." She murmured...she didnt seem as tense now. Certainly still a bit anxious but she was trying to calm her wired nerves. "Ya dont have to rush it....or rush trying to make a choice. Sorry, kid. Just want you to know you kids have a place where you'll be safe, not trying to uproot you or anythin." The matriarch looked a little sheepish

"Some young leaders are like that....think we should only listen to ourselves.....hes young. He'll learn. Whether that's by talking to someone more experienced like me or something happening he'll learn either way. I ask for Ed and Banzai's opinions before I do things all the time."