#one day maybe i'll share something about them

[quillaffinity]

Know that Home is Your Name (art by @puowei my beloved)

_

Grim munched on the warm samosa gripped between his paws, his sharp teeth making easy work of the delicate layers of filo dough that covered the savory meat filling inside. Founding Day at Ramshackle was in full swing before him, with all his classmates and upperclassmen appeared to be enjoying themselves quite a bit. Even the teachers seemed pleased, surveying all the new growth and hard-won repairs made to the previously dilapidated grounds. Maybe Bramble waking him up so early to finish decorating hadn't been such a bad idea...

"Now why would the Great Mage Grim be sitting all by his lonesome?" His ears perked at the sound of Bramble's gentle teasing. His hench-human (fairy?) looked a bit tired from cooking and playing hostess all day, yet she still smiled down at him, brighter than the spring sun. The familiar quickly turned away from her with a huff, his stomach twisting uncharacteristically.

Then came a rusle of fabric and grass as Bramble slowly sat herself down next to him. The deep red color of her blouse and skirt bringing out the warmth of her skin and the luster of the long alizarin curls flowing down her back. She was wearing one of those complicated, pleated outfits from her world. Her world, Grim thought, the place where she left her younger brother behind.

The person she loved the most.

He heard about the guy. How could he not? Every chance she got, his hench-fairy would talk about how great a guy her brother was. How much she missed him, how she couldn't wait to see him again.

Ugh.

"What'er you doing here Bramble? Shouldn't you be out there making sure all those dolts don't start a fight?" Grim quickly finished off the pastry in his arms, unable to even taste it. But then she laughed and Grim had to look back at her. He'd rather give up tuna forever than ever admit how much he liked the sound.

The golden embroidery on her clothes glinted warmly in the dim light around them. With Grim in a newly tailored Ceremonial Robe and Bramble glittering with loaned jewels, they made a rather odd but dashing picture as they sat side-by-side. She, a human turned half-fairy. He, a monster turned student of magic. And to think that when they both arrived at their dorm they had been at such odds...

"I have faith in them to keep it together for a little while, at least."

"Myeh, that's stupid."

She smiled at that. One of those eye-crinkling small ones, the ones that made him feel like they were sharing a secret. Like this, it would be easy to believe they'd always be here, be together. But the more Grim looked at Bramble', the more he felt that Bramble was moving further and further away from him. And closer and closer back to her home.

And he hated it.

He didn't want her to go home. Screw her stupid brother! A man ought to take care of himself! He didn't need Bramble, he had her for all his life. But Grim? She had just come into his, she couldn't leave so soon.

"Grim...Why are you sitting so far from me?" Her voice was soft in the way she reserved only for him. The same tone she used when they were curled up together for warmth in Ramshackle as she sang him little lullabies in languages he didn't know. She rested a soft hand on her knee as she tilted her head ever so slightly to meet his eyes. Her blue scarf flowing between them, a teal connection from her to him.

Grim looked away once again.

It felt like something was stuck in his throat, but no amount of swallowing made any food dislodge itself. He wanted to scream from the top of his lungs, but no words came out. Stay. Stay here with me. With all of us. I don't take care of you very well right now, but I swear I'll do better than your home ever did. You won't even miss that selfish brother of yours!

Bramble reached out, curling her thin, work-worn hands around to rub and scratch at his face the way he liked. Subtly turning the monster's furred face back in her direction as he smiled unwittingly. Her fingers always gentle, her nails just long and sharp enough to scratch pleasantly.

It was Bramble who cooked their food and cleaned their dorm. It was Bramble to woke him up in the morning and made him brush his teeth. It was Bramble who made sure they had money for necessities and that Grim finished his homework on time.

But maybe he could learn?

Maybe he could figure out how to do more things, enough things that the idea of staying with Grim wasn't such a bad one. That way she wouldn't go back to that stupid world with that stupider brother of her's.

"There's that smile I love!" There was a golden glint of mischief in Bramble's eyes that gave Grim half a mind to turn away and pout once more. If only to keep the fairy's attention on him. He, half-heartedly, batted her hand away with greasy paws. But Bramble simply wrinkled her nose and leaned over to press a kiss between his ears, smelling like home the only way Grim knew.

No one and no thing had ever cared for him like her. Bramble had made sure he was fed, clean, and ready each and every day to accomplish his dreams. Having believed in him since day one. Heck, if he asked, Grim was sure she'd let him sink his fangs into her arm if she thought it'd help him. But what had he given her?

Not enough.

Not enough to keep her from going home, anyway.

"Now that you've finished pouting...I have some good news to share." The monster's stomach sunk and roiled. Suddenly he wanted to spit fire, he wanted to turn and set Ramshackle ablaze. Because, if he destroyed it, he wouldn't have a home and if he didn't have a home Bramble couldn't leave. She wouldn't. She'd stay and she'd take care of him and treat him so kindly he'd burn down another dorm just to keep her in Twisted Wonderland. He flattened his ears, fire bubbling behind his throat.

"...what?"

"Crowley's finally approved of my request to add my mother's last name to my file. I'm officially Bramble Euricide, Housewarden of the Ramshackle Dorm!"

Grim blinked.

Huh? That's it? She...She wasn't going home? She wasn't leaving him? She...She was staying. She was staying! Here! With him!

"And..."

Grim froze.

"I asked him to add 'Euricide' as your last name as well...but only if you want to! I-If that's to much I can't just let him know, he probably hasn't even glanced at our files since the first day so-" Bramble leaned a bit away from him, flustered. She looked away hurriedly, lashes low and shy over her pale pink-gold eyes.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do I need a last name? Ain't that for your family?" Bramble went very still. Even the vines swirling and sprouting behind her slight pointed ears froze as if caught in a sudden frost. Slowly, her eyes widened as she turned back to look at him. She was silent for one, two, three heartbeats. Then her brows furrowed and her eyes softened in shock.

In heartbreak.

"Grim. Grim, you are my family."

Bramble reached for him, opening her arms just enough to welcome him. But she didn't pull him to her. She hesitated, hands just outstretched in front of him. Wow, Grim thought.

She's so stupid.

He leaped into her soft arms, and, immediately, was surrounded by her warmth. In fact, Bramble was so warm that it even made the back of Grim's eyes burn ever so slightly. Darn things even started to sweat. He knew his claws must have hurt her skin as he clung to her, but she held him too tightly to care. Grim made a small noise in his throat, rubbing his cheek against hers as her vines began to sprout soft lilac-colored flowers. Bramble stifled a soft sob against his fur, hugging the little creature close with every ounce of love she had.

"We've been through too much not to be, b-but if you don't want to be-"

"I n-never said that you dummy!"

A family. A friend. A companion at the start and end of the world. How blessed he was, Grim thought, how happy his life finally was.

-

i commissioned @puowei to draw bramble (my twst oc) and she did such a beautiful, wonderful, kind job that couldn't help but add a hopefully-equally sweet snippet between my Ramshackle duo. puo has an immense talent and skill only rivaled by her unyielding kindness and i cannot recommend her services enough. thank you for all your hard work, and for bringing so much life and beauty to sweet, tragic little brambleberry <3

-

tagging - @le-monchou and @twstnettle

[fuctacles]

@genderthings Robin's Gender Week Day 1, prompt: "sharing pronouns", taken literally | Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3

T | 594 | Genderfluid/Queer Robin(&Steve) | QPR Stobin, hinted Steddie and Rovickie | Modernish AU

I'll have what they're having

"How are we feeling today?" Robin asks the mirror, squinting at it like its holding more than just a reflection of an indecisive person. 

Behind, a flurry of hair and blankets raises up from the unmade bed.

"Kinda fem, honestly," Steve says. "I want to wear these star earrings."

"Ooh," Robin's eyes sparkle. "Are we doing a space theme?"

Steve hums.

"But like, the night sky. Not the nerd NASA stuff."

Robin scoffs. 

"Night sky is nerdy, you doofus." With a fond eye roll, the requested earrings get laid out on their old, thrifted vanity. "With that navy shirt with purple swirlies? It kinda looks like a galaxy."

"Paisley."

"What?" Robin frowns, already pulling the mentioned shirt out of the closet.  

"The pattern. It's called paisley."

"Okay, diva."

At first, Steve scoffs at the jab, but then makes a thoughtful sound. 

"No, you know what? Can that be our pronouns for today? Diva/divine?"

"Hm, are we feeling more this one, then?" Robin picks up on the mood instantly, diving deeper into the closet to pull out something with sparkling, puffy sleeves. 

"Hell yeah, we do!" Steve grins, rolling out of the bed to join the outfit picking. Robin is the one to end up in the paisley shirt, thrown over a thin black turtleneck. The star earrings are a part of a set, and Robin gets to wear the moon necklace that goes with them. 

"So, she/they?" Steve asks, hand hovering over the finishing touch—a small pile of pronoun pins, each in two copies.

"They/she for me, please?" Robin extends their hand.

"There you go." Steve plucks out the requested pin. They're all simple black-on-white bars, easiest to match with most outfits. And get the most pronoun combinations in. 

"We should really get a display banner for them," she purses her lips, putting hands on her hips.

"Ugh, yeah," Robin scrunches their nose at the messy pile of too many, too similar pins. "Do you want to go thrifting today? We could—"

"No," Steve cuts them off immediately and grabs their shoulders to turn them around and walk out of the bedroom. "Absolutely not, we don't have the money or space for more stuff."

Robin huffs but doesn't argue. They know she's right. 

"I guess we could ask someone. Eddie one hundred percent has some leftover fabric lying around. He's always working on something."

Stevie hums. 

"Yeah, maybe he'll even make one for us, if we ask nicely."

"Ha! He will if you ask," they correct, quickly ducking out of their friend's grasp before she can use it against them.

"Well, maybe you should ask Vickie, then," she puts her hands on her hips. "Doesn't she help in the costume department?"

Robin's eyes widen, and Stevie knows it's not about Vickie anymore. 

"No. No, no, no, no, no, we'll just go to Eddie. You know what happened the last time you went into the dressing rooms."

"Uh, I got eaten out within an inch of my life by a hot actress?" they try, pouring two cups of coffee and grabbing the pastries leftover from yesterday. Breakfast of champions. 

"And brought home two bags full of scraps!"

Robin makes a 'hngh' sound deep in their throat and Stevie knows, she can relate. It was piles upon piles of treasure, but it took all of their friends to get rid of. They helped to clean up, and actually make use of everything. The glitter and feathers still lingered in the corners of their bedroom. 

"Fine," they sigh, settling down by the table. "We'll go to Eddie." 

[vettelsvee]

VEE'S F1 PROMPTS LIST (VOL. I) ⋆ I've been thinking of this for quite a while and I've finally decided to post this! So, if you want to, feel free to requests as many times as you want <3 ─ Drivers I write for: anyone (current F1 grid or retired). ─ Send me your requests via Tumblr Inbox (+ some idea in case you want me to write something specific). Just choose a number from the following ones and tell me the driver you want me to write about! ─ The ones in bold are already taken and will be posted as soon as possible

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

1. "Your face is so adorable. I bet the rest of your body is" 2. "You want that book? I'll buy you the whole series" ↳ Oscar Piastri 3. "Darling, are you feeling well?" 4. "Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you" 5. "I might have slept with your robe when you were gone" 6. "If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you" 7. "Here, let's share the blanket" 8. "You have to be quiet if you want to cum" 9. "But I want to hear you sing" 10. "I'm gonna fuck you until you beg me to stop" 11. "Are you gonna be good for me?" 12. "Don't get up - I'll do it" 13. "Star-gazing was a good idea" 14. "You look beautiful/handsome in the moonlight" 15. "I think I love you"

16. "I'll always be here for you" 17. "How about something warm? It'll help you sleep" 18. "It's okay. I couldn't sleep anyway" 19. Don't be silly. I want to stay up with you" 20. "It's not morning yet" 21. "Have a nice nap?" 22. "You have sleepy stuff in your eyes" 23. "Time to wake up sweetie. It's a new day" 24. "You stayed up past your bedtime again, didn't you?" 25. "Why don't we tale a nap together? We can be nap buddies" 26. "You're exhausted, honey" 27. "Are you blushing?" 28. "Hey, hey, hey, don't let them say that. You're beautiful" ↳ Lewis Hamilton 29. "Yeah, you're cold. I'm giving you my jacket" 30. "It looks better on you anyway" 31. "You look pretty today" 32. "Can we get married already?" 33. "Oh, uh, hey. I just wanted to remind you that I love you" 34. "We should compare hands, you know. Science" "What?" "What? It's not like we haven't done anything worse" 35. "You're cute" "What" "I said you look like a fruit" "That doesn't even make sneak" 36. "Yeah, okay, so what if I dreamt about kissing you? Don't we all do that to our best friends ...No? What do you mean no?" 37. "This sounds like you're flirting with me" "...I have been trying to do that for three years now" ↳ Sebastian Vettel 38. "You're the most important person of my life" 39. "Welcome to fatherhood" 40. "God, I'm never leaving your side again" 41. "I got the mirror so you can see yourself while I'm fucking you" ↳ Sebastian Vettel 42. "Don't touch me. Just watch" ↳ Sebatian Vettel 43. "What are you wearing?" 44. "Just watch them having sex with me. Maybe it'll give us some ideas" 45. "Your hair is really soft after you wash it" 46. "Ssh. Stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair" ↳ Sebastian Vettel 47. "You smell really nice" 48. "You're my new pillow" 49. "We can talk over dinner" 50. "Don't be stubborn. Try it!"

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Small idea thing may or may not be canon to my story

Yan! Dion agriche x fem! Reader

Arranged marriage

Warnings: slightly implied slight codependent behavior, jealousy, mention of murder attempt(s), mention of past murder, toxic familial (?)relationships, toxic marriage/relationship, some yandere themes probably. Please tell me if I missed any.

NSFW kind of warnings: suggestive and implied dub-con-ish, and definitely a sexually frustrated Dion

Can be read as it's own thing not sure if I'll include this in main story so POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR 'HELP I REINCARNATED AS THE FEMALE LEAD'S SISTER-IN-LAW"

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DON'T INTERACT WITH FANDOM RELATED THINGS DNI

I couldn't get this out of my head and I just needed to share it so bad it was eating me up alive.

==

Lowkey think Roxana would pour affection (platonic) at you just to annoy Dion aka small bouts of revenge once she realizes he has a soft spot for you (aka stealing your time, smiling sweetly at you, maybe even make physical contact via pushing your hair back or the very rare looping her arm around yours as you walk in the garden together. Inviting you to dinner sometimes when Dion returns from a mission, getting in his way of his own little goal of spending time with you. Basically becomes your 'bestie' (she denies she cares about you but we all know that's a lie) and enjoys the glares Dion sends her way whenever you're having fun with her and not him.

And truthfully, despite knowing she's using you for something, you enjoy her company after a while. However, you're unable to fully give in and become essentially a sister to her or a 'bestie' because at the end of the day, she is still Roxana Agriche, an Agriche and general and you genuinely cannot see yourself becoming an important person to her or anyone else, still thinking everything is a test to see if they should dispose of you or not.

And while you're aware your husband has a 'thing' for you or even 'love's' you, he's still an imposing figure, still a man who didn't blink twice at killing his own half-brother and would gladly kill one of his step-mothers just to see Roxana cry. So, really, despite your smiles directed at the blond and your sparse forms of 'affection' to your husband, you don't really accept what they show you. Because at the end of the day, you grew up in two very different environments and you are not meant to be here. Your definition of 'love' is vastly different from their own and while Roxana knows how healthy 'love' is supposed to be, it's been so long since she's received it properly. Meanwhile Dion has a hard time understanding it still.

The story has been changed enough. And you're not sure if it should change some more.

And maybe it's because of that you unknowingly refuse to see just how soft Dion Agriche is with others (no where by much, just by like 00.6% since they're not you. ) had become ever since you entered the scene. Because if you acknowledge it then you'll start to see him as a decent person - everything he is not.

Also Jeremy would literally crash any alone time you have with Dion out of both spite for him (he's too weak to fight him just yet + Roxana probably doesn't want them to fight and he's her #2 fan - Cassis takes 1st place and you 3rd.) And some werid younger brother like affection he has for you.

And Dion would definitely steal you away once the opportunity arises and if they were normal siblings he would stick his tongue out at Roxana but since they're traumatized af they just glare at each other so sharply it could cut skin. Proceeds to awkwardly show you affection that both makes you uncomfortable and feel some pity for him because damn, Maria and Lant are horrible parents. If he acts nice enough he might get a kiss on the cheek before you scamper away otherwise (from experience) a make out session you really shouldn't enjoy breaks out but he still gets cock blocked by someone OR you stop him once his fingers start to undo the strings on your dress or his kisses travel to your neck instead, and his excitement is very much noticeable via his actions and the budge in his pants he doesn't even bother trying to hide. Sure, he's very attractive. However, pushing the fact you're still wary and/or 100-80% scared of him aside, he's big and it hurt badly the first time and you really, really like having working reproductive parts and the ability to walk + your gut tells you that there's a chance he won't stop at one (1) round.

Every night you stay up questioning if you're actually in a coma and not reincarnated.

After all, why else would these people concern themselves with you? Why else would they start to get closer to you? Why else would Dion Agriche proclaim that he's your dog?

[distant--shadow]

very much not a post about Cole, yes I brought up a question of theirs that got answered but that was in another post as an example of poor question selection and how it felt shitty in context of "hey I'm gonna give all of this attention to this last question" and getting that, which was lame (maybe I'm out of touch here, I'm not in any big servers or cliques, I'm not aware of the role the glasses play as a "lightning rod" still, as u say, or that it was still relevant. to me it has been made pretty clear (as Laura said) in campaign that she needs them but doesn't have them (I couldn't care less if people chose to make their own art with her wearing them, I'm aware of what making choices u enjoy for ur own fanart is), therefore my frustration on that getting asked. you have picked a post out of a few I made and q's I answered that would give this context (and how I'm more frustrated by the show as a whole as well as general fandom behaviour) . the most tasteless question by far was about gendering the future kids, that is what I'm annoyed at when I'm talking about needing your own headcanons confirmed, idk who made it and I didn't put much thought into paying attention to names behind them because at the end of the day I was just noting the overall quality of questions, I'm not gonna change my opinion on the question based on the person behind it. I also think it will always be valid to critique media you care about and also quesiton the behaviours of people that share space with you(as u are with me rn) (so yes I see u people saying "lol get over the term girlfailure, we got bigger issues going on in the world" then a moment later being like "omg cr fandom has so much casual misogyny" like yeah, you're partaking in casual misogny babe. yes I'm aware people disagree with this. this is my blog, I'm a person with opinions) I have since spoken to people who submitted questions, none of which got answered and people admit they sent both more in depth and lighthearted ones. yes from that I can conclude that the issue lies more with the curation, but it doesn't change the fact that I feel frustrated, and I had said that yes Laura is probably just picking out anything that looks like a quesiton in a quickly moving chat, u can see how she deflated when getting far enough through some of them.

once again, this whole post jumping into Cole defense is just showing that you're also agitated by something in the moment without the actual context you're "having to assume" and that's fair, but it's arguably just as reactionary as what you're saying I did. yes, I think the fandom behaviour needs to be different if it's going to have this much impact on the actual content of a show, that's the main thing here, I don't like the feeling of being catered or pandered to if this is what they think fans want to see, yes maybe a lot of this is me being reactive to that feeling. it's a blog. I'm sharing my opinions in the moment. I want others to see that despite the fact I make a fuck tonne of shipping art, I don't actually want that being lip-serviced like those are my needs during the sparse oppurtunities that we get for deeper character answers.

also, to end, to finish off this post with the tags "#the fires ya'll #kyle just lost his fucking house" like what???! OK????!!! do you feel righteous now? you don't think i 100% support them taking all the time off they need tor recover from this? that I'm not sympathetic? you really saying hey excuse you, don't be a bully, fires have happened? when the person I'm apparently targeting from your post is not cast or crew? (or in california, as far as I'm aware) like what? that's the "unkind" thing to say right there, I get that things are super rough and Laura is recovering from a lost voice because of everything going on. maybe they didn't need to rush it, maybe that doesn't change the fact they still recorded and chose the questions they did? I don't think many fans were thinking "oh i'll ask baby questions because there have been fires." I'm not gonna go into this any more but, super super lame behaviour.

I shouldn't be surprised by the fireside chat being the state it was, seeing as I don't follow any CR themed blogs myself or really go into the tags because I find it frustrating but still, the bleed over of fanon is depressing and a lot of you are showing your asses in terms of how you don't actually gaf about the characters or the story the players have chosen to tell.

I love my au's, I love my headcanons, I love my not quite canon ships, but they're for me and the people who chose to enjoy them if they want to. and what makes creating those things more fulfilling is trying to really be true to the character it's about, otherwise just go play with OCs

this will be my last salty post on the matter (guess we'll see) but man, the timing? all of this crazy shit is going on, it is well established that the audience is frustrated with how little downtime we've had with these characters and getting to see those long rest bonds we got to enjoy with previous campaigns, 4SD is over, and that's what you wanna ask about? it's selfish, honestly.

[lale-txt]

glimpses from the Soft Launch pinterest boards

[chiropteracupola]

dress up nice (and don't get any blood on yourself this time, please)

[collaboration with @dxppercxdxver again. we are still going.]

[claitea]

a little personal project i'm slowly chipping away at, thought it would be fun to make it into a chart that i add a doodle to every time i finish a new character so i can track how i'm going with it!

by project i just mean i want an oc of each type. i'm not making a game or anything the positions listed are purely for fun HDJBFJFKE

[sirrentxt]

It's just a few days past graduation, well into the night, and he's walking home through pouring rain and familiar tight streets—taking shortcuts wherever he can because the leather on his back keeps soaking up water, heavier by the minute—when he finds himself stopping for shelter under a small roof. Nearly bumps into a man already standing there; blonde, sunglasses, fancy suit, a black coat reaching his ankles. Luis can't help but think it's weird; with how few lamps are around and in working condition, if he were the one wearing shades, he wouldn't be able to see shit in the absolute downpour.

“Raining jugs tonight, eh?” He pitches, brushing wet hair out of his face to take a better look at the man.

“Quite,” says the stranger and reaches into his suit jacket. A silent beat passes before he extends a hand towards Luis, a silver cigarette case gleaming in his hand, open. “Care for a smoke?”

Luis is not one to turn down that offer.

They smoke in silence for some time, listening to the rain beating down the tin roof over their heads, but Luis keeps curiously watching the blond in the corner of his eye. The man has a certain way about him—an accent, a prowl, a presence; a heavy step in the way he stands unmoving under the roof while Luis keeps switching legs.

“You from around here, señor?” He asks eventually between drags.

“Afraid not.”

Luis chuckles.

“Not the best hour to be out in these parts, you know.”

“Is it?”

“Mm. Not many locals here as charming as myself.”

A smile ghosts over the stranger's face, the intention behind it a mystery to Luis.

“How unfortunate.”

A thrill runs up Luis' spine like a warning. Minutes later, he'll ignore it in favor of inviting the man over, the danger of it all not once crossing his mind; convinced the way the conversation was going was some particularly tricky flirting.

The stranger will follow.

He'll play along, suddenly unsure of the ground beneath his feet. At first, when Luis offers him tea; then, after he declines, when Luis appears right in his face, persistent eyes and a sly smile. A hand running down his side, stopping at his hip. Luis circling him—“May I take your jacket, señor?”—then sliding it off his shoulders, carefully putting it aside. Circling back around, raising an eyebrow at his side arm—“Not from around here but not your regular tourist either, eh, señor?” “Albert.” “Well, señor Albert”—one of Luis' hands stopping at the man's hip, the other finding his belt loops and yanking him closer—“any other surprises you've got in store for me?”

luis serra x albert wesker // chance encounters

[ashorterurl]

.

[pyrriax]

HI TUMBLR late footnote posting before i go to bed (i took a nap today........ ate up most of my time)

not a lot to talk about with footnotes today since i was Busy and my brain wasnt working pfndkmlfd i blame seven hours of modded oneblock

[beancalzone]

On long distance and the meaning behind words

[demaparbat-hp]

Hiya!! 👋🏼😄 How's it going? Your fashion taste for Zuko in a Modern AU seems to be artsy, or maybe "formal" is the word. That shirt he wore when he gave Sokka romantic song advice looked Versace🧐. Anyway, I was wondering how you came up with it, he always struck me more as the type that didn´t care much about fashion, so I'm curious about other´s opinions and heacanons about it. And do you have any other fashion headcanons for the rest of the GAang? Also, their music tastes. How did you come up with them? Especially Katara's! 😍

Hello! As it happens, I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings™ about this, so I'm leaving these over here, and the rest of my ramblings down below the cut!

Let us begin with the Gaang, shall we?

SUKI always struck me as that Pretty Girl from the Gym. She is so incredibly fit it isn't even funny. She could kick anyone's ass, and we'd all thank her. She has this casual gym style that somehow always looks glorious on her, as it should! Comfy yet fashionable clothes for a nice workout or a day in town.

Her music tastes are basically any and all power songs from the eighties and nineties. (Eye of the Tiger, anyone?) She also enjoys metal via Toph, and bands like BSB, NSYNC, or Boyz II Men with Katara. My girl has a very eclectic Playlist and we all love her for it.

SOKKA is That Guy™. Loose T-shirts and shorts everywhere he goes, no matter the weather. He's stupidly into fashion but it doesn't show! At all! And everyone teases him about it. His closet is about 90% Cactus Juice merchandise, hence the "it's the quenchiest!" shirt.

His fashion and music tastes are pretty much the same. He loves poetry but isn't really into lyrics. He'll misinterpret just about anything you place in front of him. His Playlist is mostly vibes and tiktok songs he kind of enjoys. He isn't really into music...at least not as much as his sister.

AANG owns exactly one hoodie, one pair of shorts, and one beanie (THE beanie). Oh, and the crocs—don't forget the crocs. Somehow, he's always wearing the exact same outfit. Every. Single. Day. Ancient Gaang lore suggests that the day Aang goes out without his beanie, it's the end of the world.

His Playlist is the poppiest, most bizarre thing ever. Every single song is Happy by Pharrell Williams levels of happy. Yet sometimes, among the bouncy dance-to songs, you'll find the strangest of things... (He does know what Good Day by Twenty One Pilots is about. That's the reason he likes it so much, actually. And it's so weird.)

KATARA is all about sundresses and loose pants. The epitome of comfortable loveliness. Light fabrics in blue shades, careful embroidery, delicate shoes, and little to no accessories—hers is a simple, yet quite adorable, style. She just needs to add more colors to her usual palette...

She is, first and foremost, a Florence + The Machine girl. It's the Dark Goddess of the Sea vibes, to be honest. Florence Welch is her idol and yes, she will fight you about lyrics interpretation, and win. It may not seem like it, but her music tastes are also very varied.

She draws a little from each member of the Gaang, so you'll hear her humming along to Gorillaz (where did you even find out about them, Aang?), The Weeknd (I...don't think this song means what you think it means, Sokka...), and Hozier (Zuko why did you dedicate Talk to me, Zuko WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT).

TOPH...ah, lovely girl. I'll summarise everything about Toph’s fashion sense in two words: comfort and rebellion. Stuffy dresses forced on her by billionaire parents? No thank you! Give her tank tops with loose shirts and short pants. Bandaids shared with Aang, bracelets from Katara, and even piercings she got in tandem with Sokka. Shoes? What even is that?

Something I love about this fandom is our collective agreement that Toph is into the dirtiest, heaviest, most ear-splitting and soul-crushing death metal of all times. Her Playlist is full of the most obscure names to ever exist, and she can and will blast through your walls with the sheer volume of her speaker.

Zuko. ZUKO.

Even in a modern AU my boy must suffer. That being said, I envision Tales from the Couch as—well, exactly what it is: an ATLA modern AU. While there is not a war to fight, and a lot of plot lines are discarded or expanded upon, much about the core story remains the same.

This is my way of saying that Zuko still goes trough his redemption arc, and it reflects on his fashion choices.

The way you described it works perfectly because of one single reason: in this AU, Zuko is an artist. He had to suppress his love for writing and drawing because of his background and the expectations Ozai had for him (taking over the family company), and a very large part of his redemption arc directly affects his relationship with art.

In the Couch equivalent of S1, Zuko has fallen out of Ozai's graces, and is desperate to protect his place in the company and the Kasai household. He's pretending to be someone he isn't and trying to live up to his Father's image of a perfect heir while still being somewhat cut-off financially, and it shows.

He's all about imposing long coats and a semi-formal style, imitating what he knows Azula and Father would respect. He's striking and sharp and dark. But no matter how he dresses or carries himself (that air of cold superiority and arrogance)—it won't help him when he needs it the most.

In S2, Zuko has hit his lowest point. He's officially disinherited and tossed away by his father, and would be out in the streets if it wasn't for Uncle Iroh. He goes from sharp, high-tailored outfits to old second-hand clothes that hang loosely on his frame. He starts smoking and cuts his hair off, forgoing the undercut for the first time in years.

But then...Father accepts him back. When Zuko returns home, it's with respect to his name and a very high position in his father's company. He's finally the perfect Kasai heir, dressed in overly expensive suits and finery, even at home... But Father forbids him from wearing Lu Ten's earring, and Zuko can no longer recognize himself without the familiar glint of gold dancing on his peripheral vision.

When Zuko leaves the Kasai name behind him and goes back to living with Uncle Iroh...he's finally at peace with who he is, and what he wants in this life. The sharp edges aren't gone (they'll always be a part of him, after all), but now they're dulled by looser clothes and softer hairstyles.

He's an artist, and for once in his life, he is determined to pursue his own ambitions. Zuko's outfits may not be designer-made anymore, but he takes what he has and makes himself look like he wants to look, like the person he wants to be.

He doesn't read fashion magazines or keeps up to the latest trends like Azula does. He's just...Zuko. And his newfound confidence makes everything he wears look like it belongs on him.

As for music...well, Ursa raised a literature boy.

He loves lyric-heavy music and natural voices, be they soothing or powerful. Dissecting song meanings and possible interpretations with Katara is one of his favorite parts of the day. They're both very passionate and strong-minded individuals, so it stands to reason that their debates can get quite...heated.

Zuko's Playlist is both incredibly eclectic and somehow very...him. There's a common thread that binds together every song and artist he likes, and he's hilariously unaware of this. To take a look into his Playlist is a higher honor reserved only for those closest to him.

In the wide spectrum of things, it is no wonder that Zuko is, first and foremost, a Hozier man. But though Andrew is his God in all aspects of this life, there's someone else that has had a huge impact on him...

Two someones, actually.

Zuko refuses to tell anyone how he got into Twenty One Pilots, but it's kind of a moot point when the beginning of his obsession is nothing compared to everything that came after. They have just about the right amount of everything that makes Zuko...well, Zuko. The poetic lyrics, the soothing or raging music, the heavy, intensely resonant themes...

Up there, in the second artwork, I placed an album cover behind each period of Zuko's life. The election of these records is intentional, as I feel like their general themes work incredibly well with Zuko's arc and growth.

Blurryface in S1. For the demons within us. For giving a name to our fears and shame.

Trench in S2. For escaping the confined walls of a depression city, and fighting to understand the depths of the map of your mind.

Scaled and Icy in the first half of S3. For returning to places you had left behind. For convincing yourself and everyone around you that you're fine, that you're perfect, even though everything is crumbling inside...

Clancy in S3. For recognizing that you can backslide, that you can have fears and shame and pain—but you're shaping yourself with each step you take. For knowing that seeking help from others is okay. Nobody learns to walk on their own.

(And, in the end, you'll always be better than the person you were yesterday. If only because you're still here. You're still alive. You're still yourself.)

.

Overall, I rambled a bit too much, don't you think?

If you made it all the way down here—thank you so much for reaching out and being interested in this crazy AU! I hope you enjoy these ideas and tell me some of your own ❤️

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

We NEED more soft!Rafe after the new season. He moved out and got a whole house to himself maybe he could ask his girl to move in? Becasue he wants her there and to be part of his life...his new life where he's a better person

Request: SOFT RAFE PLSSS

I don't know when I found time to write this, but enjoy soft!Rafe asking his girlfriend to move in with him! Feel free to send more requests, I'll write when I find time

Warnings: soft!Rafe, relationship moving quickly, mention of Ward's death

—

‘’Rafe, I truly can’t see. I’m not cheating,'’ you promised as you walked with Rafe’s hands over your eyes.  

He had picked you up in late afternoon and refused to tell you where you were going. Just that he wanted to show you something...and that you had to close your eyes during the whole drive. 

Rafe laughed a bit, trusting you. ''Okay, okay.'' 

You walked a few more steps, then he stopped and removed his hands from your eyes, revealing a large two story house. 

A frown formed between your eyebrows. ‘’Who's house is this?''

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. ‘’Mine,'' he whispered in your ear, giving you a gentle kiss on your jawline. ‘’As of this morning.'' 

Surprise filled your face. ‘’You bought a house?’’ 

Every time Rafe showed up to your place after a fight with his family — most often his father —, needing a bed to crash in for a few days, you tried talking to him about getting his own place. It would solve a lot of conflicts. But Rafe always said he wasn’t ready to leave the family nest. 

Behind you, Rafe hummed. ‘’I bought it with a part of my dad’s inheritance money. Sharing a house with Rose is not possible anymore. Too much has happened...’’ 

You covered his hands with yours in silent support. You’d heard the ugly stories about Rose and Rafe. He hadn’t always made the best decisions in the past, but Rose constantly blamed him for everything bad that happened to the family. Rafe may have deep personal issues, but it was wrong of her to villainize him.

‘’Do you want a tour?’’ he asked, his voice brimming with excitement, and the eagerness in his eyes made it impossible for you to refuse.

You followed Rafe up the steps to the porch of his new home. He fumbled briefly with the key before pushing the door open, but just as you were about to enter, he pulled you to a sudden stop.

“Wait,” he ordered, his strong arms wrapping around you as he effortlessly lifted you up.

You squeaked, startled by the sudden move. ‘’Rafe, we're not married, you know,’’ you said with a soft laugh, looping an arm behind his neck. ‘’You don't have to carry me over the threshold."

He set you down gently on the wooden floor of the entrance hall and shut the door behind him. 

Inside, the house felt big and empty, its openness accentuated by the sunlight streaming through the uncovered windows.

‘’I don’t know why, but I expected it to be fully furnished,’’ you admitted, glancing towards what you assumed was the living room. 

Rafe chuckled, his fingers lacing with yours as he guided you further in. ‘’Some people do buy them furnished, but this one wasn’t. You’ll have to help me pick out furniture because I suck at decorating.’’ 

The kitchen was massive and even had two ovens — a rich people thing. It was unfortunate Rafe didn’t cook. The backyard had a large patio where Rafe mentioned wanting to set a barbecue and a firepit, and maybe one of those large daybeds. He wanted his house to be cozy and feel like a home, not look straight out of a fucking magazine.

As he led you into the last room upstairs, the master bedroom, Rafe's voice grew soft. The words were burning on his tongue, but he didn’t know how to say them. 

‘’And here's our bedroom. I mean, the bedroom.’’ He made a mistake on purpose, just to see your reaction. 

You tried to hide the smile that spread across your lips, your heart beating fast in your chest. The slip of his tongue hadn't gone by unnoticed. Did he truly mean for you to live here with him? Was this why he took you to the house and insisted on making it a surprise? 

‘’There’s a big bathtub in the master bedroom, and—’’ Rafe continued, moving toward the bathroom to show you the bathtub, but you were not listening. 

Moving in with someone is a huge step in a relationship, not something you can decide on a whim. You and Rafe had only been together for a few months, so it felt a bit early to take that step. But then again, everything in your relationship had moved quickly from the start. He met your parents two weeks after your first kiss, and said ‘I love you’ after twenty-six days of dating — yes, you had counted them. 

When Rafe glanced back at you, he noticed you seemed deep in thought. ‘’Is everything okay?’’ he asked, an eyebrow raised in concern. 

You snapped out of your thoughts, shaking your head. ‘’Yeah, everything’s good,’’ you replied, smiling at him. ‘’I was just thinking of all the time it’ll take us to christen our house.’’ A mischievous grin curled on your lips as you walked toward him. ‘’Maybe we should start now. It’s a big house.’’ 

Rafe’s eyes flickered with surprise as he heard what you were implying. He expected you to refuse, to say it was too soon. 

‘’You’ll move in with me?’’ he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. 

You nodded, and a smile curled on Rafe's face. He's never been happier.

—

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[mostlysignssomeportents]

How I got scammed

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security

I wuz robbed.

More specifically, I was tricked by a phone-phisher pretending to be from my bank, and he convinced me to hand over my credit-card number, then did $8,000+ worth of fraud with it before I figured out what happened. And then he tried to do it again, a week later!

Here's what happened. Over the Christmas holiday, I traveled to New Orleans. The day we landed, I hit a Chase ATM in the French Quarter for some cash, but the machine declined the transaction. Later in the day, we passed a little credit-union's ATM and I used that one instead (I bank with a one-branch credit union and generally there's no fee to use another CU's ATM).

A couple days later, I got a call from my credit union. It was a weekend, during the holiday, and the guy who called was obviously working for my little CU's after-hours fraud contractor. I'd dealt with these folks before – they service a ton of little credit unions, and generally the call quality isn't great and the staff will often make mistakes like mispronouncing my credit union's name.

That's what happened here – the guy was on a terrible VOIP line and I had to ask him to readjust his mic before I could even understand him. He mispronounced my bank's name and then asked if I'd attempted to spend $1,000 at an Apple Store in NYC that day. No, I said, and groaned inwardly. What a pain in the ass. Obviously, I'd had my ATM card skimmed – either at the Chase ATM (maybe that was why the transaction failed), or at the other credit union's ATM (it had been a very cheap looking system).

I told the guy to block my card and we started going through the tedious business of running through recent transactions, verifying my identity, and so on. It dragged on and on. These were my last hours in New Orleans, and I'd left my family at home and gone out to see some of the pre-Mardi Gras krewe celebrations and get a muffalata, and I could tell that I was going to run out of time before I finished talking to this guy.

"Look," I said, "you've got all my details, you've frozen the card. I gotta go home and meet my family and head to the airport. I'll call you back on the after-hours number once I'm through security, all right?"

He was frustrated, but that was his problem. I hung up, got my sandwich, went to the airport, and we checked in. It was total chaos: an Alaska Air 737 Max had just lost its door-plug in mid-air and every Max in every airline's fleet had been grounded, so the check in was crammed with people trying to rebook. We got through to the gate and I sat down to call the CU's after-hours line. The person on the other end told me that she could only handle lost and stolen cards, not fraud, and given that I'd already frozen the card, I should just drop by the branch on Monday to get a new card.

We flew home, and later the next day, I logged into my account and made a list of all the fraudulent transactions and printed them out, and on Monday morning, I drove to the bank to deal with all the paperwork. The folks at the CU were even more pissed than I was. The fraud that run up to more than $8,000, and if Visa refused to take it out of the merchants where the card had been used, my little credit union would have to eat the loss.

I agreed and commiserated. I also pointed out that their outsource, after-hours fraud center bore some blame here: I'd canceled the card on Saturday but most of the fraud had taken place on Sunday. Something had gone wrong.

One cool thing about banking at a tiny credit-union is that you end up talking to people who have actual authority, responsibility and agency. It turned out the the woman who was processing my fraud paperwork was a VP, and she decided to look into it. A few minutes later she came back and told me that the fraud center had no record of having called me on Saturday.

"That was the fraudster," she said.

Oh, shit. I frantically rewound my conversation, trying to figure out if this could possibly be true. I hadn't given him anything apart from some very anodyne info, like what city I live in (which is in my Wikipedia entry), my date of birth (ditto), and the last four digits of my card.

Wait a sec.

He hadn't asked for the last four digits. He'd asked for the last seven digits. At the time, I'd found that very frustrating, but now – "The first nine digits are the same for every card you issue, right?" I asked the VP.

I'd given him my entire card number.

Goddammit.

The thing is, I know a lot about fraud. I'm writing an entire series of novels about this kind of scam:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

And most summers, I go to Defcon, and I always go to the "social engineering" competitions where an audience listens as a hacker in a soundproof booth cold-calls merchants (with the owner's permission) and tries to con whoever answers the phone into giving up important information.

But I'd been conned.

Now look, I knew I could be conned. I'd been conned before, 13 years ago, by a Twitter worm that successfully phished out of my password via DM:

https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/

That scam had required a miracle of timing. It started the day before, when I'd reset my phone to factory defaults and reinstalled all my apps. That same day, I'd published two big online features that a lot of people were talking about. The next morning, we were late getting out of the house, so by the time my wife and I dropped the kid at daycare and went to the coffee shop, it had a long line. Rather than wait in line with me, my wife sat down to read a newspaper, and so I pulled out my phone and found a Twitter DM from a friend asking "is this you?" with a URL.

Assuming this was something to do with those articles I'd published the day before, I clicked the link and got prompted for my Twitter login again. This had been happening all day because I'd done that mobile reinstall the day before and all my stored passwords had been wiped. I entered it but the page timed out. By that time, the coffees were ready. We sat and chatted for a bit, then went our own ways.

I was on my way to the office when I checked my phone again. I had a whole string of DMs from other friends. Each one read "is this you?" and had a URL.

Oh, shit, I'd been phished.

If I hadn't reinstalled my mobile OS the day before. If I hadn't published a pair of big articles the day before. If we hadn't been late getting out the door. If we had been a little more late getting out the door (so that I'd have seen the multiple DMs, which would have tipped me off).

There's a name for this in security circles: "Swiss-cheese security." Imagine multiple slices of Swiss cheese all stacked up, the holes in one slice blocked by the slice below it. All the slices move around and every now and again, a hole opens up that goes all the way through the stack. Zap!

The fraudster who tricked me out of my credit card number had Swiss cheese security on his side. Yes, he spoofed my bank's caller ID, but that wouldn't have been enough to fool me if I hadn't been on vacation, having just used a pair of dodgy ATMs, in a hurry and distracted. If the 737 Max disaster hadn't happened that day and I'd had more time at the gate, I'd have called my bank back. If my bank didn't use a slightly crappy outsource/out-of-hours fraud center that I'd already had sub-par experiences with. If, if, if.

The next Friday night, at 5:30PM, the fraudster called me back, pretending to be the bank's after-hours center. He told me my card had been compromised again. But: I hadn't removed my card from my wallet since I'd had it replaced. Also, it was half an hour after the bank closed for the long weekend, a very fraud-friendly time. And when I told him I'd call him back and asked for the after-hours fraud number, he got very threatening and warned me that because I'd now been notified about the fraud that any losses the bank suffered after I hung up the phone without completing the fraud protocol would be billed to me. I hung up on him. He called me back immediately. I hung up on him again and put my phone into do-not-disturb.

The following Tuesday, I called my bank and spoke to their head of risk-management. I went through everything I'd figured out about the fraudsters, and she told me that credit unions across America were being hit by this scam, by fraudsters who somehow knew CU customers' phone numbers and names, and which CU they banked at. This was key: my phone number is a reasonably well-kept secret. You can get it by spending money with Equifax or another nonconsensual doxing giant, but you can't just google it or get it at any of the free services. The fact that the fraudsters knew where I banked, knew my name, and had my phone number had really caused me to let down my guard.

The risk management person and I talked about how the credit union could mitigate this attack: for example, by better-training the after-hours card-loss staff to be on the alert for calls from people who had been contacted about supposed card fraud. We also went through the confusing phone-menu that had funneled me to the wrong department when I called in, and worked through alternate wording for the menu system that would be clearer (this is the best part about banking with a small CU – you can talk directly to the responsible person and have a productive discussion!). I even convinced her to buy a ticket to next summer's Defcon to attend the social engineering competitions.

There's a leak somewhere in the CU systems' supply chain. Maybe it's Zelle, or the small number of corresponding banks that CUs rely on for SWIFT transaction forwarding. Maybe it's even those after-hours fraud/card-loss centers. But all across the USA, CU customers are getting calls with spoofed caller IDs from fraudsters who know their registered phone numbers and where they bank.

I've been mulling this over for most of a month now, and one thing has really been eating at me: the way that AI is going to make this kind of problem much worse.

Not because AI is going to commit fraud, though.

One of the truest things I know about AI is: "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

I trusted this fraudster specifically because I knew that the outsource, out-of-hours contractors my bank uses have crummy headsets, don't know how to pronounce my bank's name, and have long-ass, tedious, and pointless standardized questionnaires they run through when taking fraud reports. All of this created cover for the fraudster, whose plausibility was enhanced by the rough edges in his pitch - they didn't raise red flags.

As this kind of fraud reporting and fraud contacting is increasingly outsourced to AI, bank customers will be conditioned to dealing with semi-automated systems that make stupid mistakes, force you to repeat yourself, ask you questions they should already know the answers to, and so on. In other words, AI will groom bank customers to be phishing victims.

This is a mistake the finance sector keeps making. 15 years ago, Ben Laurie excoriated the UK banks for their "Verified By Visa" system, which validated credit card transactions by taking users to a third party site and requiring them to re-enter parts of their password there:

https://web.archive.org/web/20090331094020/http://www.links.org/?p=591

This is exactly how a phishing attack works. As Laurie pointed out, this was the banks training their customers to be phished.

I came close to getting phished again today, as it happens. I got back from Berlin on Friday and my suitcase was damaged in transit. I've been dealing with the airline, which means I've really been dealing with their third-party, outsource luggage-damage service. They have a terrible website, their emails are incoherent, and they officiously demand the same information over and over again.

This morning, I got a scam email asking me for more information to complete my damaged luggage claim. It was a terrible email, from a noreply@ email address, and it was vague, officious, and dishearteningly bureaucratic. For just a moment, my finger hovered over the phishing link, and then I looked a little closer.

On any other day, it wouldn't have had a chance. Today – right after I had my luggage wrecked, while I'm still jetlagged, and after days of dealing with my airline's terrible outsource partner – it almost worked.

So much fraud is a Swiss-cheese attack, and while companies can't close all the holes, they can stop creating new ones.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to post about it whenever I get scammed. I find the inner workings of scams to be fascinating, and it's also important to remind people that everyone is vulnerable sometimes, and scammers are willing to try endless variations until an attack lands at just the right place, at just the right time, in just the right way. If you think you can't get scammed, that makes you especially vulnerable:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[nochepsicodelica]

Toji who got really drunk after a misunderstanding you left him to ponder upon one morning when you left for work. You missed a part of your routinely goodbye to him and at first it didn't bother him. He understood that you were running late, but once he started chugging the cold drinks and he sat with the sentiment, he realized it did strike him.

He hated the entire process of getting drunk, hated that drinking was unbearable unless it was chased with sweet kisses from you, but there he was, downing bottle after bottle. He was starting to feel liquid full but even in this intoxicated state he didn't want to put down the bottles. At some point he starting feeling uncomfortable being by himself and didn't want to feel that way anymore, so he called and texted you. Multiple times. You finally picked up after the eighth call.

-Hi, baby! Sorry, I missed your calls. I just left work and i'm heading home.-

-Baby? Who are you calling baby?- He scoffs, a roll of his eyes following.

-You... Toji. It's you. Who else would I be calling baby?-

-Honestly, I...- He laughs, the sound not coming off as one of joy with the next words he speaks. -I didn't think you even loved me enough to give me stupid pet names. I feel very unloved by you and... mhm, just want you to know that.-

Now, that's just entirely untrue and it hurts to hear. You prove your love for him every day. What is this sudden false claim against you?

-Toji, love, what are you saying? I'm coming home, already. Maybe we should talk in person. This is hard to discuss over the phone.-

-Uh-huh, you do that.- He sighs, heavily, his eyes lidding with sluggishness. -Can't win a verbal argument, s-so you're gonna come over here and try to seduce me with your pretty face. I'm just gonna say no when you try to touch me. Just no.-

-I'll see you in a bit, Toji.- you say, before abruptly hanging up.

He sounded off. You knew something was up the second you saw his eight missed calls and a stack of messages just saying 'hey'.

Your keys jingled as you pulled them out of your bag to unlock the front door. The house was steady, no sign of Toji watching TV in the living room or of the shower running. You walked further in, calling his name. It was kind of eery walking through your silent house. You also knew of Toji's tendency of scaring you, so you were on guard for that as you paced around the house. You had one more room to check and it was the bedroom. You dragged your feet over to the room, knocking when you noticed the door was closed. There was no answer after two more knocks so you just opened the door.

The sound startled Toji who was lying against the headboard of the bed, almost falling asleep. The second he saw you his demeanor changed. He perked up like a dog when their owner comes home, before melting back to the stoic state he had been sitting in.

"Hey," you say, almost tentatively, as you walk towards your shared bed, sitting down on the edge. You're met with an acknowledging hum of a response. "What's wrong, baby?"

"There you go calling me baby again. Baby is for people who love each other, so stop it."

You look over the bed, spotting the evidence that led to the bite in his attitude towards you— those bottles that spill the remaining drops of their content and Toji's backwash onto the bed, making the sheets reek of alcohol.

"Well, I love you, so no, i'm not gonna stop calling you baby."

He crosses his arms over his chest, huffing like a child. "That so? It didn't seem that way this morning. I've never felt so forgotten about by you."

"I told you I was gonna be late for work, but you insisted on keeping me trapped beneath you. Bring that part to light, handsome." You can see the corners of his lips twitching. He's holding back the most wicked smirk at the short burst of memories from the morning. "Plus, I still gave you your goodbye kiss, so what are you on about?"

"You didn't say 'I love you'. That's part of goodbye with you, so you can't blame me for feeling this way." His eyes express something of hurt. Maybe it's enhanced by the drinks he had, but you can't leave him that way.

"You're loved, baby. Very much so. Me not saying it this one time doesn't diminish the actual feeling." He's been reduced to a cub over this, so as his lover, you step in to mend the feelings that were grazed.

"Can you..." he rasps, patting his thigh, signaling for you to sit. You drag yourself towards him, and plop yourself onto his lap. You can smell the alcohol on his breath as he rambles on about how you can't forget to say 'I love you' to him ever again, even if it's a blurted, rushed one that he doesn't get a chance to respond to as you rush out the door.

The look he reserves for you is entirely soft, his hands are hot against your clothed back as they feel the warm body he's missed for hours. "I still..." he pauses to sigh, tiredness imbued into the sound. "Still want you to call me baby," he starts again. "I was just bummed. Don't stop calling me baby. Don't ever do that." He's letting his hands roam all over you. Your back, your waist, your hips—everything.

"Are you gonna let me touch you or are you gonna say 'no'?" You grin, remembering his words, verbatim, just incase he tries to tell you he never said them.

"Why aren't you touching me? Why would I not want you to touch me?" He looks insulted by the question and you have half a mind to remind him of what he said to you on the phone, but the heat in his eyes dies out as quickly as it appeared. "Really need a hug, mama. Please, hug," he says, the last part muffled by your chest as he keeps his face buried into it.

You held him tight and murmured 'I love you' countless times, while he hummed in response and groaned quietly as you ran your fingers through his hair.