#overall those last five minutes made it so worth it

[teethburger]

I just got back from my first babysitting gig and OH MY GOD children are some of the weirdest and most oddly cute creatures in the world

[mrs-hatake]

Serendipity

pairing: nanami x si!ofc (can be read as y/n)

genre: fluff, feelings realization, nanami centric.

word count: 2029.

summary: It’s when Nanami Kento is having breakfast at his favorite bakery when he decides to quit being a sorcerer for the second time.

a/n: i refuse to accept what happened to him <3

happy readings! p.s, not proof read!

Nanami Kento is a ritualistic man. 

From the moment Kento was at the age where his cognitive machine started operating, his dear old grandmother had drilled into that tiny brain of his the importance of having a routine life. And baby Kento was a child who absolutely adored his grandmother who gave the warmest hugs, slipped some money into his pudgy little hands whenever she visited, and constantly praised Kento for his achievements, big or small. So, naturally, his brain absorbed her moto, Routines Are A Way of Life, like a sponge would to water. 

His grandmother taught him that one must sleep at exactly eight o’clock sharp and awake from their slumber at five in the morning. 

Predictably, it was quite a challenge for Kento was barely six years old at the time. However, because loved his grandmother and always wanted to prove his worth to her, he worked day and night, weeks and months, until he developed his own routine that he followed to a T.

Those routines followed him through the years.

Currently, like clockwork, Nanami Kento’s eyes prey open when the digital clock on the bedside table blinks five o’clock sharp in neon green. Not a minute late and not a minute early. 

His morning rituals consist of Kento performing his morning stretches that last fifteen minutes. Afterwards, he hops into the shower, welcoming the bitter cold droplets that trample on his smooth skin. When that’s all done, he dresses, then styles his hair into his preferred style that he had perfect immediately after dropping out from Tokyo Metropolitan and switching to a civilian high school.

Despite Nanami Kento religiously following his routine, there are days where he breaks them.

Humans are flawed creatures and Kento is not to be excused from such a fact. 

Usually, Kento would prepare his own breakfast and lunch at home before work. Thanks to the fact that he wakes up quite early, he has all the time to prepare elaborate and delicious meals and still attend work with twenty minutes to spare.

However, there’s an unknown power that has made its presence from time to time — like the one that convinced him to grow out his hair to resemble those rock singers he fancied in his youth — telling him that today is a perfect day to eat his breakfast at his favorite bakery and purchase something for lunch to eat at the school.

That voice in his head that beat him into submission to stray from his routine is right.

The weather is just right in Kento’s humble opinion.

The sun is hiding behind thick, white, fluffy clouds. Shyly peeking when she’s in the mood. There’s a slight breeze that caresses Kento’s sharp cheekbone not dissimilarly to how his ex-girlfriend from his corporate days had done.

It’s the type of weather that has Kento donning on his favorite beige turtleneck sweater with dark brown dress pants, showing off his model worthy physique. 

Walking down the streets, Kento is surrounded by calmness at the lack of people around him. Maybe a group here, some businessmen that he isn’t jealous of there, but overall, it’s a bit deserted.

His favorite bakery is a quaint little establishment that barely houses three two person tables yet somehow has enough room for the innumerable plants scattered about. It’s tight, drowning its customers in claustrophobia but they sell the best pâtisseries ever. 

The bell lets off a small chime when Kento pushes the yellow door open. His nose is immediately invaded by the mouth watering scent of vanilla and cinnamon. He can see the back of the head of the owner, who is also the baker, scurrying about behind the counter as takes a seat closest to the window separating him from the baking station. 

“Good morning!”

Jenna is an Arab woman who moved to Japan about five years ago after graduating from a culinary school in France. Her love of baking mixed with the Japanese loving anything French related allowed her to open her own bakery and thrive in the country. Despite not being famous like other establishments, La Petite Boulangerie welcomes enough customers to keep afloat. 

And, honestly, Kento doesn't want more people to discover this hidden gem. The one thing he despises other than working over time is crowded places. 

Kento watches her 5 '1 frame move about, her dark hair cut into an adorable French bob swaying about with the movements, until she is standing in front of the register, smiling at her first dine in customer of the day.

“The usual?” Her teeth aren’t white but they aren’t yellow. They are a balance of both, and would've been white if they hadn’t been stained by the coffee she consumes. 

“No.” Kento shakes his head, that unknown power making its presence once more. “I’ll have the day’s special.”

The day’s special is something decided by Jenna’s mood for the day. Sometimes, she’ll bake the most refreshing mango mousse to grace your tongue. Other times, when she is daring enough to venture out of French desserts, she’ll bake you the best apple pies you’ve ever had in your life, making you crawl back for more.

“You’re in luck! I was just about to make a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls.”

Somewhere along his frequent visits throughout the years, Kento had somehow managed to develop a tiny crush on Jenna that grew larger by each visit until it threatened to burst through his chest. His heart skipping three beats as if he is some high school girl is a sufficient form of evidence. That’s why he is returning Jenna’s smile, albeit much smaller. 

“I’d like that very much.” Comes Kento’s light voice, matching the ambiance of the bakery. 

“You got it!”

What makes La Petite Boulangerie stand out from other local bakeries isn’t just the affordable prices, but the way Jenna pours her heart and soul into her food. Her passion burns hotter than the stove she uses for her masterpieces.

Caught in a spell, Kento’s eyes follow Jenna’s movements as she begins the first step of making a perfectly, mouth watering cinnamon roll.

The silence that accompanies them doesn't bother the two occupants as Jenna mixes her dry ingredients. Rather, it is something they both enjoy. Jenna, to help her concentrate on her work. Kento, to have a peace of mind. 

It doesn’t take too long for the modest room to start smelling of yeast, its aroma making Kento inhale deeply, eyes closing shut, as his mind drifts away. He starts to imagine what life would be like if he is welcomed by such a heavenly fragrance every day. 

Kento can smell lemon zest when he returns home from a grueling day of exorcising curses to find a freshly baked lemon cake resting on his expensive marble kitchen island, waiting for him like a lover patiently waiting to be devoured. 

Or how he is embraced by the warmth of brioche every winter morning. Clinging onto him, prevent him from stepping out the door to make his way to work. 

But that unknown power is greedy. It tells him that those things aren’t enough. Instructs Kento to dream bigger and he quickly conjures up an image of Jenna baking those desserts he loves so much.

Jenna waiting for him on their bed when he returns from work with half-lidded eyes, begging to be devoured.

Of Jenna being the one clinging onto him every morning, playfully pulling him back into bed for another round, or five. 

Perhaps it is the vivaciousness of his imaginations or the comforting smell of cinnamon that has Kento blinking back to reality.

Brown irises roll to the left to where Jenna is pulling out the tray of freshly baked cinnamon rolls. 

His eyes are unseeing as she drizzles the icing, humming a soft melody he doesn’t recognize. 

The unknown force is cruel, subjecting Kento to such fantasies he is more than well aware of the impossibility of achieving such a dream. 

Nanami Kento is a sorcerer.

An occupation that doesn't just pose a threat to his own life but also the lives of others. And Kento would be damned if he were to bring Jenna into his dangerous life only to helplessly watch as curses, the kind he is too weak to eliminate, take the love of his life away from him. 

His round shades hide his widened as he looks into Jenna’s smiling eyes as she serves his breakfast, along with his favorite drink, black coffee.

Should Jenna remove his glasses, she would see the fear trembling behind them.

A fear of not only losing Jenna, but also knowing that there will be a day where Nanami Kento will never see Jenna ever again. Will never set foot into La Petite Boulangerie. Nor will he have the opportunity to watch her as she bakes, undying love adoring her face.

That shocking discovery that has Kento’s hands trembling at the dismay, has him blurt out, “I need to make a phone call.” 

When Gojo Satoru had heard of Kento’s second retirement, he rolled his eyes to the back of his skull and scoffed heavily. 

The first time Kento had done it, Satoru understood.  

Haibara had died.

Suguru, although barely being friends with the blond, had defected. 

And with Shoko carelessly chasing after her medical degree, Satoru knew why Kento had turned his back on them. 

Were he not the strongest, a slave to his emotions, Gojo Satoru would’ve done the same thing.

The life they live is just too demanding. 

But Gojo Satoru is the strongest and the only one honored between heaven and earth. 

Yet for Nanami Kento to resign once more, a month after Suguru’s death no less, Satoru isn’t as forgiving.

Satoru, in all of his glory, went to Kento’s apartment to drag him back into their world, kicking and screaming.

Imagine the shock, however, when he discovered that Kento had moved out from his apartment and had changed his phone number. Something Satoru learned when he tried to call his kohai. 

Ever the persistent man, Gojo Satoru searched high and low for Kento. A year later, he found the blond down south. Somewhere close but also secluded enough to not pay attention to. 

“Nanami.” Satoru greets. Both voice and expression are void of any emotion.

Kento doesn’t react negatively; his eyes don’t widen like they do in the many anime that Satoru still watches. He doesn’t swear under his breath at being found. Simply, Kento walks past him as if Satoru doesn't exist. 

“You need to come back.”

Not a single reaction from Kento. Not even the usual sigh of annoyance.

But Satoru won’t back down without a fight.

“We’re in a critical situation.” Satoru starts, voice ever so serious. Despite its rarity, Kento doesn’t stop.

“We’re needed at Shibuya and-”

Finally, Kento says, “You’re needed at Shibuya.”

Satoru greets his teeth. “You’re being stubborn!”

This time, Kento stops walking to turn to face Satoru. 

“Forgive me for valuing my life for once.”

“Don’t do this to me, not you.”

The word too is left unsaid. 

Gojo Satoru is a terribly lonely person who attaches himself to anyone he deems worthy. An open secret that everyone acknowledges except the honored one.

“I’m happy now.” 

What feels like an eternity is actually a few seconds when those words left Kento’s lips. Though, it’s the softness around his eyes, accentuating the tiny wrinkles, that forces Satoru to take a sharp breath.

“I don’t want to lose that happiness. Not anymore.” He thinks of Jenna, the woman who taught him how to laugh freely. The one who showed him the true beauty of being alive. The woman he wants to start a family and grow old with.

“And if that makes me selfish,” What happens next has Satoru’s jaw dropping. Kento’s eyes turn into tiny crescents as a bright smile, rivaling the effervescent glow of the moon as a smile appears on Kento’s handsome face, making him appear youthful, “Then I’m one selfish bastard.

[emotionally-charged-arson]

A Very, Very Unfinished Pile of Theory of Everything Headcanons (Ayreon)

Last semester, my English final was a presentation relating the overall theme of the Forever saga to that of the more popular works of H.G. Wells. Details of that argument aside, the thesis was that Ayreon’s emotional core was the presence of small-scale acts of love juxtaposed against large-scale existential tragedy, balanced in their individual power. That we are messy and self-destructive, and in the grand scheme of things we mean very little in the universe, but we are resilient and alive and human and that has to be worth something.

I really like this aspect of the main story, and it got me a perfect score on that assignment. It had a ten minute time limit and I was fighting for my life to stay under it. While I was downsizing the script, I couldn’t help but think of an earlier idea I had drafted about how The Theory of Everything on its own was a really incredible example of the mad scientist archetype turned completely on its head (it was a science-fiction analysis class). Specifically how that script was almost three times longer than the original H.G. Wells one, that took me a solid twenty minutes to read aloud. 

I literally wrote an hour long lecture about The Theory of Everything. No headcanons. No extra theories. Literally just picking apart its canon plot. 

I think this is why I have so little extra writing for it. The story as its given is airtight and just…fucking incredible. Arjen wrote it with a very clear theme in mind like he did with Transitus, but TToE isn’t missing half of its story because he couldn’t pull in the cash to make a movie out of it. You can feel the intention behind every single character, they feel like real people, it has so many layers to it and it is literally, objectively, the greatest prog album ever made. Fight me. 

But anyways: For lack of better phrasing, there isn’t much to “fix” in that sense. Almost all the headcanons I have for The Source or Transitus boil down to a few things:

I was being self-indulgent with a favorite character and it snowballed into a genuinely informative trait/subplot that informs the main story (a certain hc I have where Henry just fucking shoots Daniel in the back by mistake sometime between Two Worlds and Talk of the Town, turning into this weirdly effective commentary of how Daniel is conditioned to his brother’s shitty behavior and Abby hauling ass to get him out of that headspace)

I am curious about aspects of an album’s worldbuilding and get a little excited while filling in the blanks that were perfectly fine being left alone (doing mental gymnastics trying to build a version of The Source where these five academics, three politicians, two religious figures, one robot and one random spaceman viably know each other)

The rarer option that I am genuinely disappointed by how a part of the story was handled and completely ignore this small part of canon to make the overall story be more effective. Or attempt it, at least (Lavinia’s entire character undermining Transitus’ themes and her contradicting her own motivations, and me, in turn, just writing her character from scratch while keeping with the basic story beats [her seeing ghosts, doing shady shit with Henry, etc.])

But with TToE I’ve felt very little need to do any of these. If I were to really dive into it with intention I think I would start building off of the whole bank robbery plot in Phase III (just a slightly weirdly framed plot point for me), but I haven’t thought about it. It’s not that glaring of an issue and there’s few other places in the story where I think adding anything would make it more effective. 

This isn’t to say that Transitus and The Source are objectively worse in any sense, but they leave a lot more up to interpretation, allowing me to write so many add ons that they become structured and essential to each other’s function. 

It’s fun with those two albums. With TToE I really have to look for cracks to fill and it’s kind of useless. 

Not entirely, though. I’ve got a few hcs, and maybe they’ll warrant dozens of google doc pages of context one day like the other two albums: 

Two central things sparked curiosity. Setting, and how the parent characters came to hate each other that much. Naturally. 

This started four-ish years ago when I was pacing around my parents’ house with TToE on the mind (as it often is), and my brother put on this show called His Dark Materials. I watched the intro to it all of one time and just…knew this was the aesthetic TToE should have.🔗 At least combined with dark academia. It’s an album about physics and ghosts, that seems reasonable enough. 

…funnily enough, as I later found out, His Dark Materials itself has a very dark-academia-esque vibe, and the plot is entirely based upon the intersectionality between science and mysticism and trivial human attempts to make sense of it. 

So. Pretty fitting. 

This really stuck with me, and a handful of the characteristics of the show and books became the basis for the way I picture The Theory of Everything. Mainly the visual aesthetic, like I said, but also the fact that the story starts at a parallel version of Oxford University. I don’t have some giant case study for this like with Transitus/New England. I just think it’d be a cool and vibey setting. Maybe it’s the American in me but there’s something about a thousand-year-old college with a campus made of literal goddamn castles that borders on the fantastic. 

From there, you have a decent excuse for The Prodigy to run off to Ireland, where you can choose from one of like 200 different pretty little isolated lighthouses for him to lose his mind in, far enough away for him not to be found as long as he did. Not to mention it lowkey matches with the overt Celtic influence of the music. Or Scotland, if you want some weather symbolism from the North Sea. 

Solid setting, if I say so myself, and it actually influenced the family’s whole situation. Here, The Father (Mike) is a physics professor at Oxford, and The Mother (Cristina) is the director of the Bodleian Library. It’s how and where they meet in 1991 (though the mother is in an attendant position at the time), as shown by the only part of this I have drawn out:

They hit it off, and marry in 1993. Their first and only child is born two years later and they love him half to death. Everything is more or less nice and normal. 

In 1996, Mike stumbles into “proof,” more or less, of the theory of everything being a singular, solvable equation through his work, practically by accident, and begins focused work on it with enthusiastic support from his wife. Life is going great, Cristina is promoted and the two are balancing things well enough. 

The boy shows little to no social development into his toddler years, but his parents don’t think much of it. His father was similar at his age; they’re not worried. They even go as far to say he’ll turn out just as ambitious and smart as his dad and relatives, coworkers and family friends go along with it, setting insanely high expectations for this literal three year old. Mike keeps working on his theory. 

The boy enters preschool at age four; still no improvement. Just isolates himself and draws indiscernible patterns on everything you put in front of him. His parents finally try to intervene to some degree, hiring private instructors and talking with some other psych/child development people they know through the university, to no avail. Nothing changes. He just stares off into space, doesn’t interact with any of them and supposedly doesn’t pay attention to lessons. He still isn’t speaking. Cristina is finally concerned

Around the same time, Mike makes a significant breakthrough in his work, gaining worldwide attention. He receives massive grants from in and outside of Oxford to continue his work, and quits his teaching job to make more time for the endeavor. Cristina is left as the family’s sole provider. She understands and is in agreement on that decision, that’s not the problem yet. The problem is that Mike is becoming more or less indifferent to their son hits five, not seeing any previously projected greatness he was supposed to have in his father’s footsteps. Cristina, much more conscious of balance in her life and how having kids works, isn’t sure what to make of that. Their relationship starts to strain. 

From there, as Mike keeps working, Cristina takes the kid to all sorts of specialists around England but none of them can pinpoint what’s “wrong” with him. She tries much more actively to connect with him like they’re telling her to (though she still enrolls him in the university’s affiliated primary school program, against their suggestions), bringing him everywhere. Buys him little memory games since that’s all that seems to hold his attention. She’s past any belief of him being some secret genius like his dad, not that her opinion of her husband is super positive at this point anyway. She’s just dead-set on her son having some sense of normal in his life. 

By 2002, Mike has completely secluded himself and works nearly constantly. He has made no progress on his theory since 1999 and the fame garnered from his breakthrough has faded. The family is running out of money and Cristina is exhausted. The boy is ostracized at school and still (almost) totally nonverbal. Her coworkers keep suggesting these weird holistic remedies that she refuses. She knows better than to fall for all that new age, pyramid scheme bullshit. 

The son’s condition, whatever it is, worsens until mom, desperate, puts her foot down in 2008 (or “gives up,” if you wanna put it like that) and drags her husband and son to this private practice in Scotland she was told about by a friend, suspicious but ready to put up with anything at this point. 

😐👍

[multifandomfix]

October Movie Wrap Up

Angel's Crest: 4/10. Sad, boring, not much really happens. Tragic accident sort of thing. It’s not awfully done or anything, just wasn’t anything overly moving or special about it. I’d say it was moderately worth it for the few scenes of Kate Walsh and Elizabeth McGovern as a couple.

Arthur's Whisky: 6/10. It was no cinematic masterpiece, but I give it props for having a bit of uniqueness to it. Plot overall was a five, but there were some scenes that were really sweet and touching towards the end, so that (as well as getting to see Lulu) added another point.

Crazy For Love: 2/10. And one of those points is just for the 30sec—1min scene of Lorraine Bracco in red and black lingerie. I was expecting so much more from this movie, especially with Natasha Lyonne as the lead, but it just fell flat from beginning to end.

Gloria Bell: 3/10. Was there a plot? Kinda. Was it boring af? Definitely. But Julianne Moore shot a guy with a paintball gun and got topless a couple of times, and wore a really pretty dress towards the end, so 3 points for those things, I guess.

Happily Ever After: 7/10. Starts a little slow, but it did have its moments and it kept my interest well enough. Loved both Janet Montgomery and Alex Kingston. Has a plot twist that I didn’t actually see coming. Overall, pretty good, honestly.

Last Night In SoHo: 8/10. Atmospherically beautiful, compelling enough to watch. Predictable at times, but still had some surprises too. I wasn’t bored at any point, so I’ll call that a success.

Mr. Wrong: 1/10. It was just boring, awful and frankly a bit uncomfortable watching Ellen Degeneres with a male “love interest”. For a comedy, it failed to make me laugh even once. Not even Joan Cusack (who had two minutes of screen time) could make this even slightly bearable.

Pretty Persuasion: 1/10. Literally the only reason it got a point is because of Jane Krakowski playing a lesbian for about 5 minutes or less. It was racist, sexist, antisemitic and a little homophobic, all barely disguised under the guise of “dry humor” mostly from the sociopathic main character who is about as interesting as a clump of dirt. Please spare yourself from this movie. I don’t know how it even got made.

Say Your Prayers: 6/10. It had its good parts, and was overall watchable, I even ended up liking a couple of the characters, but it wasn’t great. And the ending will make you mad.

Switching Lanes: 5/10. Solid middle of the road movie, highly predictable twist, though it still doesn’t really make sense, but like I get what they were going for. My only takeaway from this movie was that Marla Maples is GORGEOUS and should be in absolutely everything just so I can look at her more.

The Dresser: 7/10. I didn’t entirely follow the plot, but that was due to my own distraction. It was pretty slow, but it wasn’t bad. I might have enjoyed it a bit more had I been able to pay a bit more attention. Worth it for the performance of Anthony Hopkins, and loved seeing Sarah Lancashire as well, though she didn’t get enough screen time.

Twist: 6/10. Not bad, but aside from the one brief little scene of Lena Headey kissing a younger woman, probably could have skipped it and not missed out on that much. Interesting enough plot wise, but still lacking for a heist film.

If you’d like to be tagged in my monthly movie wrap ups, then please let me know.

[pagesofkenna]

@uchuuryokou said: "whats your hockey team"

(answering publicly so I can make everyone else see lmao)

we're the Coachella Valley Firebirds!!

we were put together in this last year as an American Hockey League (AHL, 2nd tier professional league) affiliate team of the Seattle Krakens (NHL) because someone thought it would be fun to build a world-class state-of-the-art ice hockey arena in the middle of the desert!

things I want to say bc I can't even organize my thoughts around this:

this is out first pro sports team in our area for ANY sport. previously if you wanted to support a local team/go to professional games, you had to drive two hours up to Los Angelos. something about having a team IN my hometown* (and the arena a five minute drive away from me!) has made me FULLY understand the sports home team pride. I bought over 100 bucks worth of merch just on a whim lol

*my hometown technically! they're not the Palm Springs Firebirds or the Coachella Firebirds or the Indio Firebirds, they're repping the WHOLE Coachella Valley!! one of their taglines is 'One Valley. One Team. Rising Together' and it's so cheesy but I'm so into it this is our team lets gooooo

BIRD MASCOT

whenever two teams are competing but I don't officially support either side, my order of operations for picking a team to root for are 1) loved one's team, 2) bird mascot, 3) cat mascot, 4) green logo, 5) how do I feel about the state/city playing. the Firebirds hit BOTH of my first two categories in one!

FIREBIRD MASCOT it's such a good marrying of the hot desert climate with the ice hockey sport (given the Firebird comes from Slavic folklore)! they do a lot of 'fire and ice' imagery in promo material, and the team we're competing with this week ALSO have fire in their imagery/official colors, so when we play them we wear 'ice blue' and there's blue flames on the scoreboard. our branding team is so good

(I recently started working for a company that's based in Rochester, New York, and their AHL team is the Rochester Americans. you can see how bad team names/mascots can be in this league lmao)

our team is actually good! we got a lot of investment money so we managed to get lots of players with NHL experience, some really good coaches I think, and we're second overall in our division! I don't know enough about how hockey works to know WHY we're doing so well but I'm proud of our boys!! 😭

the only two games I've been to have been against the first overall in our division, the Calgary Wranglers, who are ALSO a new team this year and they're ALSO very good (clearly). the thing that really stands out to me from both those games is how clean and precise the Wranglers play. they're so coordinated! i hate them! compared to them, we're so sloppy, all over the place, fumbling passes and leaving our goalie to do all the work protecting the goal

(our goalie is very good obv we love him, but he shouldn't have to be doing so much work! our boys need to pull it together!)

generally I feel like our boys don't coordinate well (and they're also not as fast) so I joke that they all think they're the main character in the inspirational sports movie that is our first season. but also. could they please stop fumbling passes i swear

on Monday night we played our third game in this series against the Wranglers and it went into triple overtime, they played until midnight, before we finally landed another goal and won the game 3:2!

Wednesday, the game I went to, the Wranglers landed a goal halfway through second period, and we lost 0:1. it was so close!! we defended well but also so did our opponents!

that ties this series of games at 2 wins for the Firebirds, 2 wins for the Wranglers, with the final tiebreaker game TONIGHT. if we win, we go on to represent our entire division up against another division to play for the Calder Cup. if we lose, our season is over and the Wranglers move up. obviously we've got to win; it's a home game and everything! i'm SO stressed about this!

[scrubnuggey]

"So this pays, right?" I asked.

"Well, no-" the...thing started to say, but I interrupted.

"My family can't survive on my wife's income alone, and this sounds like a full-time thing. My current job is pretty intensive and I imagine all this 'saving the world' is going to be tiring. I won't be able to do both."

"But the fate of the whole world is-"

"Not my problem. Go find someone else."

The fluffy animal-thing didn't respond, so I assumed the discussion was over.

"I-... I can’t."

It sounded so sad when it said that. Now, I can be one mean motherfucker when I have to, but I'm not heartless. I sighed and asked "...why not?"

"I already picked you. We're not allowed to second-guess..."

Fuck. "So that means you're just going to keep me here," I gestured at the starry expanse that we were standing in, "until I say yes?"

"For what it's worth, I can't leave either..." Damn those sad puppydog eyes it has. This is going to be hard. I sat down in front of it, crossing my legs. Even floating as it was, the tiny little guy barely came up to my chest when sitting like this.

"Great, then we've got time to negotiate. I need to get money out of this somehow, alright?"

The creature thought for a moment. "What if... you got a reward for each monster you defeat? Usually it's supposed to be something of personal value to you in some way, but *technically* it can be anything valuable. I think. Just to play it safe, let's say your reward is, like, an old wallet of yours with some money in it?"

"Make sure the money is enough to match a month of income from my current job and we've got a deal."

That was a couple months ago. Since then, I've taken up the alter-ego of "Handyman". It was supposed to be a temporary name until I thought up something better, but names are hard. At least it fits the outfit, which is exactly what you'd think. For a handyman, not a magical girl. Skirts are impractical and don't have pockets, the coveralls, work shirt, gloves, hearing and eye protection had much more utility. I also couldn't decide on a weapon, so I got a toolbox instead. I can theoretically pull any weapon out of it, but it's easier to pull out tools. Like the nail gun I was currently using to pin down the tentacles of some kind of giant squid.

It roared and screeched and cursed at me in a deep booming voice, but I ignored it. We had been fighting for five or so minutes already and I had grocery shopping to do. I slid down the last tentacle, nailing as I went. At the last moment, I tossed the gun aside and pulled the mallet from my overalls and swung it around as it grew to full size. The first hit stunned the creature, the second left a brutal dent, and I was going for a third when something pink and fast flew by. My third hit sent the center of the squid flying, revealing that someone had cut its tentacles. Fuck!

I saw the pink little shit cheer triumphantly, their armor masking their face. "We did it!"

I stared at them. They turned to look at me, and I could feel the way they shrunk. I gave it a second more, then said: "Two things, you pink idiot: One, you didn't do anything, and two: you actually made it worse. This is like the third time I've fought this thing. Cutting a tentacle makes it grow two more."

"Oh, shit..." pinkie said, just as the squid's body started to sprout more tentacles. 'Oh shit' was right.

magical girls are real, and you have been chosen by a magical creature to become one. The only problem is your a full grown man with 2 kids and a wife.

[the-duckless-pond]

It is 03:54 as I begin this post and I have FINALLY finished my flash cards as of about fifteen minutes ago. Holy shit. It feels so amazing to have finally, finally done them.

Yes, I did all of chapter three which was basically entirely verbs. Yes, I did the auxiliary conjugation decks for that chapter too. And for chapters one and two. And for the new verb forms (potential and volitional) that didn’t have decks yet. All done. And then? I even pulled out Nakama 1 and entered in all the verbs from the entire book into those two conjugation decks. Holy shit. It’s done. I’m caught up on flash cards. At long fucking last.

I started around 8pm ish and took two and a half SVU breaks. I did take other little breaks to stretch or get a drink or something too, but I didn’t track how long those were. I guess overall I will say that I took two and a half hours worth of breaks. That means I made flash cards for… like five hours if I did that right. Holy shit. Fuck yeah.

I cannot believe they are actually DONE oh my godddd finally it is manageable again. Now all I have to do going forward is make the cards per each chapter. I’d say that each chapter introduces maybe 100 words and 15-20 verbs on average? So that is super doable and easy.

I don’t know what to do next. I’m still not entirely committed to pulling an all nighter. The flash cards and getting those done whatever it took was my main mission. Everything else is a bonus. I definitely want a little break no matter what I do.

Let’s see. What else is there to do that I could conceivably do well in my very caffeinated but becoming tired state.

I could…

- shower and wash my hair (or better yet take a bath and wash my hair, even if a shower does rinse better than the bath)

- Japanese test take home writing (8 sentences about a trip I will take over winter break, allowed to be lies, must contain certain grammar points)

- japanese extra credit (2 pages in the workbook, maybe with corrections? Idk)

- Japanese test review sheet (a few pages, usually 3 or 4)

- watch instructional videos on grammar points I don’t entirely understand

- line the remaining three cabinets with my contact paper like I’ve been wanting to do for a literal month now

- French exercises 2.1 to 2.3 (although those can be difficult and I am starting to get tired so maybe best saved for Tuesday)

That about sums up all my options. All of those, minus the cabinet lining which is a want, are things that absolutely need to get done that I had intended to do this weekend.

I am in a weird state where I’m yawning but I am pretty awake. Idk what to do. I’ve never pulled an all nighter studying before so how does it work? I have class tomorrow at 5:30pm but it is a review class. If I go to bed now I could wake up around noon and still have time to get more work done, but I worry about super fucking up my sleep schedule. I don’t mind going to bed around 10 or 11 and waking up between 8 and 9, but this would be the second night in a row that I would have gone to bed at like 4am, and that bodes poorly and speaks of a pattern. I don’t want that. Especially because I would have to wait until the weekend to fix it probably. Blah. It’s hard.

I did ask Charlie and she voted against an all nighter but understood my reasoning, and honestly it is such a relief to have those flash cards done that no matter what this was worth it.

I am not committed to staying up and I am not committed to going to bed, but I am very committed to taking a break. So I am laying in bed, glasses off, under the covers. I have my iPad which is probably at full charge if not close. I have my phone which I didn’t get a chance to charge because it is integral to the flash card process and it is at like 40%. My bright nightlight is on and I am on my back, not in my normal sleeping position. I am taking a break.

Boo is here on her pillow. Callie is in the dining room in the corner how she likes, last I saw with her eyes closed and snoozing. Boo seems happy. She is laying down and just closed her eyes. I felt soooooo bad earlier. Around 11pm I needed to charge my vape and I found her in bed on her pillow fast asleep.

There she is. I guess that shows you how bright my nightlight is too! It’s not actually that bright in person. It is bright enough to s the the outlines of things in the room but not so bright that I can’t fall asleep with it on.

Anyway. She was snoring and totally passed out. I really wanted to pet her and cuddle her but I didn’t want to disturb her so I just silently crept to the outlet and plugged in the cord, whispered that I loved her, abd crept back out. When it was done charging and I grabbed it she was still out cold.

She woke up the third time I went into the room. Around 1:30am I finished using my laptop but it was at half battery and I wanted it fully charged for class. So I grabbed the charger and prepared to sneak in. I made it halfway to the outlet before she let out the most heartbreaking meow. She NEVER meows except for when she really needs something (food, love, etc) so u knew she was asking me why I wasn’t in bed yet. She tried to get up but she was coming out of a deep sleep and stumbled and tripped ;~;. I rushed over to her and sat on the bed and started petting her gently and telling her that I was still studying and it was okay to go back to bed. She purred like CRAZY like wow purring so forcefully!! As if to say that she had been waiting for me all that time and she was so happy I was finally there. I stayed in bed with her sitting there while she woke up and petting her for a while. Eventually she got up to get a bite to eat and a drink of water, and I followed her out and got back to work.

After that, instead of going back to bed or to her cat tower like she does during the day, she stayed right by me. I study sitting at the coffee table on a meditation pillow with the couch right behind me. She took up position on the couch and curled right up and went back to sleep. I guess she just wanted to be by me. She is so sweet. I love her so much. I missed her while she was in the bedroom so I took an SVU break after a little and sat with her and she climbed into my lap and purred and purred. Sweet girl.

Callie mostly spent my study time atop Boo’s tower, as fast asleep as she could ever be. I didn’t want to disturb her even though I really wanted to pet her several times. She snored a handful of times and that was really sweet and melted my heart to hear her resting so soundly. She was my little companion for the entire flash card study session. She did get up once to go nap on the bathroom rug, but she moved when I went in there to use the restroom.

Gosh time is flying. Or maybe I talk to much. But it’s my diary so fuck it. It’s 4:25am as I type this sentence. I don’t feel any more or less tired than before I laid down, so I doubt sleep would come easily if I tried. I’m committed to taking a break in the form of resting quietly with my precious terminally ill cat because she wouldn’t have come back to her favorite spot without me. So I guess I will stay laying down for at least a little bit. I put in a lot of work. I’ve earned it. And it does feel nice to lay down. I was kind of hunching over when I was making my flash cards and my back is kind of sore now.

I feel like, just purely based on the amount of caffeine I have consumed since I got started around 8pm (maybe closer to 7:30pm but I wasn’t keeping track so I am saying 8), sleep is a few hours off. I feel roughly mid day level tired, only my eyes hurt a little more than normal. Probably from focusing so intently or something.

I did do the math. If I went to bed now I would wake up around 1:30pm, further worsening my sleep schedule. If I was capable of closing my eyes that is around when I would naturally wake up. It usually takes me about an hour to fall asleep, so I would end up waking up around 2:30pm ish. And because of my particular flavor of depression and executive dysfunction it is unlikely that I would make it to class. I probably wouldn’t take my so called morning medicine until like 5pm, and class starts at 5:30pm and goes until 7pm. Hm. Well then.

So what do I do? I am getting tired, that much is true, but I am always always always tired around what ends up being roughly the middle of my day. That’s why I usually have a caffeinated drink around 2 or 3pm. But with my sleep being so weird lately it’s been all off.

I think that at the very least for the sake of the cats needing a routine, I should keep the apartment dark and stay in bed laying down until at least 7am ish. I will set a series of alarms every fifteen minutes from noon to one, just in case I drift off. That should do the trick and protects me in case I do end up falling asleep. I think… that I should stay committed to resting and letting the cats rest and giving them a semabalance of everything being normal. Cats thrive on routine so that will be good for them.

I guess for now, I will test out a flash card or two (I change the font size to be larger and I want to see what it looks like) and then I will maybe read the news on the iPad or watch an episode of SVU. If I drift off, I drift off. But I won’t plan on it. Alarms are set just in case.

Boo just started snoring so I guess that’s my queue :) catch you later diary

[messers-moony]

King and Queen | S.B

Paring: Sirius Black X Fem!Potter!Reader, James Potter X Fem!Twin!Reader

Summary: James goes through a lot during his time at Hogwarts but his sister is always by his side.

Inspiration: Click

A/N: If this comes off insensitive to anyone please let me know and I will remove this.

James Potter was a handful. From the minute he was born, he had this gleam in his hazel eyes that raged and burned with trouble. His twin, Y/n Potter, was almost the opposite. The soft smile that laid on her features and the glitter of calamity in her eyes. Euphemia and Fleamont were in for a lot the minute their twins were born. 

Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder is most comparative to having a web browser up with one too many tabs. James had always been unable to focus and was naturally messy. Truth be told, he thought it was normal, just as everyone else did. It wasn’t until his second year at Hogwarts did he realize something was genuinely wrong with him. 

Remus told him that he had this muggle thing called “dyslexia,” which was a difficulty in interpreting words, letters, and other symbols. However, it never affected his overall intelligence because everyone knew that Remus Lupin was indeed and wholly brilliant. It got James wondering, did his inability to focus, be organized, and hyperactivity have a deeper meaning?

His twin - Y/n - was quite the opposite. She made quick friends with Remus, Sirius, and Peter, who were close friends of her twin. Y/n was top of their class, creating a friendly competition with Remus, but she was always able to focus. Often she would hyper-focus, which would leave her working for over five hours at a time without realizing it. In those times, James would have to snap her out of it. 

Over the summer, James expressed his concerns to his parents. He was talking about how this could be a real issue he’s facing using Remus’ dyslexia as an example. Eventually, they gave in, letting James go to a muggle doctor. James had to fill out a questionnaire that would come back with his results in one week. That week was probably the longest week of his life. Nonetheless, his test results had come back positive. 

Fleamont and Euphemia would be lying if they were surprised. After hearing about the disorder, it was almost the definition of their eldest son. Fortunately for James, the muggles had come up with a cure - no, not a cure - dammit, what was it again?

Impede the symptoms! That’s what those muggle pills do. James was required to take two pills a day, one in the morning and once at night. Y/n was in charge of making sure he did so because - more times than he’d like to admit - he would forget everything if it wasn’t for Y/n. 

In third year, James was as energetic as ever while getting on the Hogwarts Express, “Aren’t you excited, Y/n?!”

She chuckled, “Yes, but Merlin, you don’t need to literally jump with joy.”

“But I’m excited!”

“I know that.”

They made their way to the compartment that held Remus, who was reading a book. James sat in front of him while Y/n took her seat beside Remus, “‘Ello Remus.”

“Hey, Potter pair.”

Y/n sighed, and James groaned, “That nickname needs to go away.”

“I quite like it.” Remus stated smugly, “Suits you both.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Y/n accused falsely, “It means that wherever one of you are, the other isn’t that far behind.” Remus replied. 

James had zoned out already, and Y/n snapped in his face, “Take your pills?” 

“Forgot.” James muttered guiltily, “Oh Godric.” She whispered. 

“Pills?”

“James went to a muggle doctor this summer.”

Remus quirked an eyebrow, “Did you now?”

“Got diagnosed with ADHD.” James informed, and Remus looked amiss, “Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder.”

“Ah, I’ve heard of that.” Remus said, and James smiled sheepishly, “I feel kinda odd, like out of place.”

“Why?”

“Dunno, just, why can't I be normal?”

“You are normal, James.” Y/n reassured, “And anyone who says differently obviously doesn’t care about you.”

The compartment door slammed open, “Who doesn’t care about who?”

Remus snorted, “Ever the dramatics, huh, mate?”

“‘Course.” Sirius flopped down beside James, “It comes with my charm and devilishly good looks.”

“Ah, yes.” Y/n said, chuckling, “Don’t you see how I’m swooning for you?”

The back of her palm was against her forehead, “Come off it.” James swatted at her and then elbowed Sirius, “Better not make my sister swoon.”

Sirius chuckled and shrugged, “Can’t help it. I’m just that irresistible.”

The four of them laughed at Sirius’ dramatics and continued talking about the new term. Remus and Y/n were talking about books they couldn’t wait to read. Remus was even kind enough to gift her some muggle books he bought over the summer holiday. Sirius and James bickered about what pranks to do this year, along with which ones were better. 

Third-year was fun. It was a year of flooding corridors, turning Slytherin robes red and blasting music in the common room after a Gryffindor victory. James was a brilliant Quidditch Chaser, and Y/n was a fantastic Seeker. Nothing was quite like the Potter pair. Something about them was just unforgettable. 

Maybe that’s why Sirius was so fond of her. Something about the Potters made people around them smile on the hardest of days. They made sure that every moment was a night to remember. Every memory was worth reliving. So adventurous, so reckless, yet so kind and loving. 

By the time fifth year rolled around, Sirius Orion Black had fallen off a cliff into a lake called love. Sirius completely submerged himself in love for Y/n Potter. The younger twin by just 20 minutes, but something about her was so divine. Was it her silk and glittering h/c hair? No - maybe it was her gleaming e/c eyes. Perhaps it was for her strive for adventure and extreme kindness. 

Nonetheless, Sirius fell hard.

And who better to tell than James Potter himself?

Causally - as usual - Sirius opened the door to the Marauders dorm. It was empty aside from the brunet boy with glasses on the bridge of his nose. His hazel eyes were focused on a textbook - Potions textbook - maybe it was to impress Lily. Sirius couldn’t care less, so he pulled the chair out in front of the desk and sat before James. 

“Mate, I need your help.”

“Running from Filch?”

“No. Something- Something worse.”

“Something worse?” The textbook shut loudly.

Sirius nodded, “Way worse.”

“Alright then, come into my office.” James teased, and Sirius grinned. 

It was silent, “I’m in love with your sister.”

James sputtered, “Excuse me?”

“I’m in love with Y/n.”

“No, no.” James waved his hand horizontally, “I heard you.”

“Then what else would you like me to say?” Sirius asked. 

“Literally anything else.”

“Sorry, mate.” Sirius muttered, “I- I really didn’t mean to.”

James chuckled and wiped his hand across his face, “I suppose you can’t really stop love, huh?”

“You really can’t.” Sirius agreed, “I tried. I promise I tried.”

“It’s not that big of a deal late.” James assured, and Sirius looked at him with wide eyes, “I trust you just-“

“Just?”

“I’m worried about her.” James completed, “I- I worry about her every night.”

Sirius softened, “It’s like you with Regulus-“ James continued before Sirius could interject, “And don’t pretend. Your silencing charms are bloody terrible.”

“I know you still care for Regulus, you worry about him every night, and I do the same for Y/n, except my silencing charms are better.” James teased sightly, “I trust you, Sirius. You’re the brother I never got but always wanted. You know, the brother I can play Quidditch with, rough around with, the brother who’s just as sneaky and mischievous as I.”

“But Y/n is still my blood. She's my twin, my best friend, my partner in crime. She was the mind behind my pranks before Remus.” James elaborated and then smirked, “Remus and Y/n make a great team, ya’ know?”

“They are quite brilliant.”

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, take care of her?” James looked like the eleven-year-old boy again, “Don’t make her a fling and don’t make this temporary.”

“Y/n is a strong woman, and she isn’t for weak men. I’ll be honest,” James chuckled, “She doesn’t need a man. She doesn’t even really need me. I need her more than she needs me. Regardless, take care of her. She deserves a man worthy of her. Someone that’ll get her ice cream at 4 a.m. because she’s craving it. Someone that’ll go on sporadic trips with her. Someone that’ll understand that after a hard day, all she wants is a book and coffee.”

Sirius was appalled; he’d never seen James look so passionate, “Growing up, mum always told me to be a gentleman. I know it may not seem like it sometimes, but she always raised me as one. To hold a door for them, push and push in their chairs for them, give them my jacket even if I’ll freeze.” 

“Those kinda things. Dad said I should practice on Y/n, and I did. From then, Y/n always got treated like a queen, and she deserves no less. I won't lie, my parents treat me like a king too, and I don’t want any less either.” James explained, “Be the king that’s worthy of my sister.”

“That’s all I ask of you.”

Sirius nodded, “I’d be honored to serve her as my queen.”

“And if you show her no less, she’ll spit you out like chewing gum.”

He shuttered, “I hate how accurate that phrase is.”

James laughed, “I know her more than you think.”

By sixth year they were dating. Sirius would be lying if he wasn’t eternally shitting himself when Y/n said yes to going to Hogsmeade with him, alone, as a date. In fact, James almost wanted to throw him a party for finally not being a little bitch and asking out his sister. This party consisted of a bottle of firewhiskey and chocolate because that’s all that was in the boy's dormitory. But a party nonetheless. 

When Lily rejected James for the last time before graduation, he was utterly heartbroken. He’d spent and dedicated seven years of his life to this gorgeous woman. Despite all his efforts and all his charms, she still wasn’t interested. James tried. He really tried. He wanted Lily so bad. His heart broke when she said her final words of goodbye.

“I’m sorry, Potter. Maybe in another life, just not this one.”

Tears had ebbed at the corner of his eyes as he made his way back into the castle from the Black Lake. In the common room, where he felt like he had just got dowsed in water. James made his way to the girl's dormitory. His hand curled into a fist and knocked lightly on the wooden door. Shuffling was heard from the other side, and the door finally opened, revealing his sister. 

Without warning, James crashed into her arms, forcing his nose in the crook of her neck, “Woah.”

“Are you okay, James?”

His body shook with sobs as he shook his head no, “It’s okay. Let’s go lay down, okay?”

Gently she led him to her bed. He curled up beneath the navy blue comforter and placed his head on the silk pillow sheets. If he tried hard enough, he could forget the way Lily’s hair smelt today or the way her green eyes glistened in the sun. Now engulfed in his sister's scent, trying to remove every feeling for Lily possible, he dug his nose deeper into the comforter. 

Y/n sat beside him, her back to the headboard, and ran her fingers through James’ already untied hair, “What's got you so worked up?”

“It’s done.”

“What’s done?”

“L- Lily and I.” James choked, “She- She really doesn’t want me.”

A new wave of tears overcame him, and Y/n continued to try and soothe him, “Well, she’s a tosser.”

James narrowed his eyes, “James, you know I love her. She's my best friend, but if she can’t see what’s right in front of her, then she’s an idiot.”

“Can I- Can I stay here tonight?” He asked hesitantly.

“You sure you don’t want me to stay at your dorm?” Y/n questioned, “Because you know who sleeps here.”

“Will you stay with me?”

“Till the end.”

After a couple of minutes, Y/n and James made their way down the steps to the boy's side. They walked up more steps and finally made it to the boy's dormitory. James collapsed on his bed in the left corner of the room, and Sirius perked up at seeing his girlfriend enter the room. 

“Whatcha doin’ here, love?”

“Staying with my brother.”

Sirius nodded and stood up to hug her, gently pecking her forehead, “If you guys need anything, let me know, ‘kay?”

“Thanks, Siri.” 

Gently Y/n pulled back the maroon curtain and sat down beside him again. James reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers. Something they used to do as kids. When a thunderstorm would go by, James would always seek sanctuary in his sister's comfort. 

He fell asleep that night, knowing he was safe, loved, and knew that someone cared about him. Even if Lily didn’t love him, at least someone else did. He had his boys, and he had his sister. Right now, that’s all he needed beside him: Screw Lily and her idiot decision skills. Y/n was right; she was a complete tosser. 

When Hogwarts was over, James and Y/n got a flat together. Sirius, Remus, and Peter got one only a floor above. Realistically this wasn’t the plan. James always planned to buy a house with Lily, but he was still healing, and after everything going on, it was vital for him to hold his sister close to him.

Euphemia and Fleamont barely lived to see their children graduate. Not too long afterward had died due to the horrid dragon pocks. It devastated both twins and Sirius. While Sirius wasn’t their true child, he very well could’ve. Euphemia noticed Sirius’s lingering stares on Y/n and the loopy smile that graced his features.

She was the one who got Sirius to man up. She was the one who gave him advice. She was the one who told him what books were her favorite, which chocolate she liked the best, her favorite quills. Euphemia was one of the main components in getting Sirius to date her daughter, and when it finally happened, the parents couldn’t have been happier.

James’ ADHD still remained even in his adulthood, making regular everyday tasks much harder and twice as long. Most of the time, the pills were able to help him complete those tasks. But sometimes, when Y/n wasn’t there to remind him, he would miss his days. When Y/n got home from work, she had barely taken off her shoes to see the apartment spotless.

It was a pleasant surprise, but James was never really one to clean, not that she really minded, but the apartment didn’t have a speck of dust on it. Hesitantly she put her keys on the island along with her bag.

“James!”

“Yes, Y/n?”

He appeared in the kitchen where Y/n was, “Um, did you clean the apartment?”

“Yes, I did!” James nodded enthusiastically.

Y/n sighed and gave her brother a sweet smile, “What did you not do today?”

“So, you know how you told me to go to the pharmacy?”

“Mhm.” Y/n nodded, “Indeed I do.”

“Well, they were out of my meds.” James informed, “I have to wait a week.”

“Oh, Merlin.”

“On the bright side!” James was already causing her a headache, “It’s gonna be a fantastic week! I’ve got so many things planned for us! We’re gonna go-“

James continued to ramble as Y/n grabbed her keys, bag and slipped back on her shoes, “I’m going to Sirius’!”

“Thought you were my sister.” James faked pouting, and Y/n smiled, “I love you, but you’re crazy.”

“I love you too!” He yelled as she closed the door.

[imdoingsortagay]

I’m a free woman

Summary: Taking your girlfriend to one of her favorite artists concert

Warnings: Lady Gaga concert, Fluff, Eve with the FIT, so cute and so gay

word count: 5.1k

a/n: i went to see Lady Gaga live recently🥺🥺🥺 and omg the energy of the stadium was amazing and I can’t help but think it’d be cute to take sweet sweet eve to see lady Gaga so BAM, also if you see that my next couple of fics are inspired by another Gaga song, no you didn’t ❤️❤️❤️

When you find out that Lady Gaga is touring this year and that she’s going to be like an hour away, you make it your mission to get tickets to her concert. No matter what it takes! You knew that she’d freak out if she got to see Lady Gaga live, and frankly after the last couple of years, her dealing with her son going to college and him being a total asshole to her, this was something she needed. Your lovely girlfriend of 3 years was one of the biggest Gaga Stan’s you knew. Eve was a bit scared at first telling you this information, afraid you’d think she was lame for being a fan of Gaga since it’s something that most of the youth today listen to. From what she told you, her music was there to cheer her up when life seemed to challenge her or fuck with her. She never really told anyone besides Julian and Amanda when she first started being friends with them but was met with nothing but positive reactions when she found out they were also fans of lady gags too. The way that you found out this information was really funny and cute. So when you go to her house one day with some food you got on the way and saw her in the living room dancing to Stupid Love by Lady Gaga, you couldn’t help but smile at how adorable she looked. You even quietly placed the food in the kitchen to join her in the impromptu dance party she decided to join. It was so adorable to see how excited she got and you knew she would freak out if she got the chance to see her perform. The moment that ticket sales date was announced you made sure to save every penny and work as much overtime as you can at work to get the best seats in the stadium.

Eve didn’t question the sudden amount of hours thrown on you but was sad that she could only spend a couple of minutes with you before you had to go to each of your respective jobs. 

For the next couple of weeks, it was seeing Eve for a good five minutes before you had to leave and many cute texts between the two of you, your girlfriend leaving you some dinner before she had to sleep. You felt bad about the lack of time you got to spend with her but at the end of this, it would be worth it at the end when you see her reaction and the loads of fun you’ll both have. 

2 weeks of the same routine later and you get your check, put it in the bank, and see that you have earned enough from working all those hours to buy two-floor seats at the front of the stage. Once you got home, you quickie head to your computer to buy the two tickets for the both of you and order some of her favorite food as a way to surprise her when she gets home.

As you were preparing the surprise for your girlfriend, Eve was driving home back from work, a bit sad because she just wants to hug you, cuddle you, and overall want to be closer to you. She understood very much that work and school were important to you but felt bad that the both of you have only seen each other for a good 5 minutes, maybe 10 if you got up earlier than usual to get ready. She didn't want to be back home and have the house all to herself like she was years ago before she met you and fell in love with you. Never again did Eve want to be as lonely as she did after her son left her home to go to school. 

What Eve doesn’t know is that you're at home waiting for some Chinese food from her favorite restaurant to come on time. Her work schedule was something that you memorized very well so as long as it came through within a good 15 minutes that was all fine with you. Luckily for you, it arrives 5 minutes before she gets home so that you can set everything up all nicely for her. All you can do right now is wait for her as patiently as you can to give her all of your attention. 

10 minutes later you can hear her car pull up in the driveway and make sure to get into position ( cheesy pose to make her giggle) for when she comes in. To Eve’s surprise, she sees your car in the driveway and was a bit confused since she assumed that you’d be at work by now. Either way, Eve collects her things from the car and starts to think about what she might make for dinner tonight, what she might spend her Friday night doing, and so on. What she doesn’t expect to see is you on her couch all comfy.

“ y/n,” she says excitingly at seeing you and she immediately drops everything in her hands so she can hug you, afraid that maybe this is her mind playing some mean trick on you but she’s happy to confirm that it’s you in front of her. 

Eve begins to give you kisses all over your face and you begin to giggle at how adorable your girlfriend is, happy to see her reaction to seeing you. If a couple more weeks of you pushing yourself at work would have happened, there was no way Eve wouldn’t be mad at you.

“ Oh my god y/n, I thought that you were supposed to work today, I was missing you so much in the last couple of weeks,” Eve says as she cuddles next to you, never wanting to leave you at this moment. At that moment Eve looked so fucking cute cuddling as close as she can to you and your heart melts because she was so cute.

“ Well,” you start,” I have a surprise for you, babe, I’ve been working a lot in the past couple of weeks for this, I know that we haven’t been seeing each other for the past couple of weeks and I feel bad about it”. Eve hums in acknowledgment before wondering what might be the surprise is. Surprises were never anything fun and she hoped that it wasn’t bad as the last “ surprise “ she got was when her son had left for college and sent back cookies she had baked for him all night and since that day, any sort of surprise was very much ruined for her.

She didn't even see that you had gotten some of her favorite food from town before she gets off of you and walks over to the kitchen table and is again excited for food. Eve’s excitement about food works in your favor as you pull up the Ticketmaster app to show her the tickets. Eve questions what you might be doing on your phone but after a couple of seconds, you give her your phone for her to look at, and to say that she was excited would have been an understatement because she had the cutest and biggest smile on her face. Weeks of working long hours, dealing with boring coworkers, and getting no sleep at all were out of your mind, the only thing at this moment was the smile on Eve’s face not to mention some tears that you got her tickets to see what she considers one of her favorite artists ever on this planet.

“ Lady Gaga babe ?” 

“ yep, “ you say excitingly. 

“ You got me tickets to see gaga?” she asks again, in total disbelief that you got her these tickets, and you nod.

Before you know it, Eve is doing her little happy dance, over the moon that she’ll get to see her live and after her dancing, she gives you another hug as a thank you. Making sure to also give you many kisses as well.

“ Is this why you were working all those crazy hours babe? “ She says and the realization on Eve’s face breaks your heart because here she was thinking the worst would happen but you were just saving up money. Both of you stay close to each other in a sweet embrace, happy to be there. 

“ I wanted to get something for my best girl,” you say to Eve, who doesn’t hide the way she’s crying and places more kisses on your face. Nobody in her life before you came alone would have put in so much work to get something expensive as the tickets and she was so excited about the concert. 

That night, Eve is happy to see you all happy and relaxed to be home and never fails to stay close to you as the both of you cuddle up together watching tv in the living room watching a couple of baking shows, having an impromptu dance battle against each other and cuddling her while she reads one of her books and ending the night with holding each other close. 

Eve sleeping with a dorky grin on her face, too excited for the next couple of weeks to go by quickly so that she could be at the concert.

Over the next couple of weeks, both of you planned out everything for the day of the concert, what time the both of you would leave home, the outfits each of you would wear, and so on. Both of you wanted this plan to go as well as possible to avoid it being stressful. When it comes to your relationship, Eve tends to be the one to plan stuff and you were very happy for her to plan the day for the both of you, asking for your input as well so that she wasn’t dictating everything. As always, you assured your girlfriend that it was cute to see her plan out the day and were very much happy with her planning everything. 

After all of the constant hours you had been working at your job, the manager happily gave you three days off to relax and it fits perfectly with the plan that Eve had. She wanted to try to recreate one of Gaga’s outfits from her music videos to fit in with everyone else but sadly did not have time due to work. 

“ We got everything for tomorrow babe?” You ask Eve as she walks around the house, making sure to check that everything is in place, all the windows are closed, and she checks her bag again to be sure she isn’t anything that’s on her list. 

“ My bag is fine babe,” she says as she grabs her bag from the couch,” Did you make sure to have everything on you, babe?” 

A quick check of your bag to see that the only thing you are missing is a hairbrush so you quickly run into the house before Eve even has the chance to close it ( it scared her a bit ), grab your favorite hairbrush from the bathroom and run out of the house again past a confused Even who closes and locks the door to get on the passenger side of the car. 

“ Ready to head over to New Jersey to see gaga?” you ask and she nods excitingly. The drive to new jersey was not too bad as the both of you jammed out to the songs on your playlist, making sure to add some of Gaga’s greatest hits as well to make the drive go faster. Eve looking out the window while you drive the both of you there, the older woman sometimes taking some naps and trying her very best to stay away from you. 

“ Eve you know it’s fine if you sleep on the way to the hotel,” you tell her in her lousy attempt to stay up with you, the music on low in the car. There was only a good 40 minutes left before the both of you would be at the hotel but Eve decided it would be fine to stay up and then sleep at the hotel not to mess up her sleeping schedule. 

“ I would rather stay up with my y/n,” she mumbles as she feels herself falling asleep, which you find cute and after a couple of minutes the woman to your right is fast asleep. As much as you loved her, there was no way that Eve would be able to stay up for long hours and respect that she had a good sleeping schedule compared to yours. As Eve slept as peacefully as she could in the passenger seat, you were listening to some music while driving and were feeling excited for the next day to come.

The next 40 minutes go by as you listen to music and hum to the tune. Before you know it, google maps notifies you that you arrived at the hotel. It had been Eve’s idea to get a hotel as close to the venue as possible but if there wasn’t anything available, then a good 10-minute walk would be fine for the both of you. Eve had ended up finding a cute little hotel that’s about a 5-minute walk from the MetLife stadium that was perfect for you to stay at and booked it right away before it wasn't available.

Parking was hard to find since many people must have stayed in surrounding hotels in the area to avoid traffic and it took longer than usual to get a spot. After 20 minutes of driving around and you are finally able to get a spot, getting in quickly before anyone else does and you wake up your girlfriend who’s still peacefully sleeping in the passenger seat. She looks so cute sleeping and you don’t want to wake her up but there’s so no way she could be comfy sleeping in a car. You gently wake up Eve, who’s confused at where the fuck the both of you are before thinking a bit. 

She must have had a good sleep from what you could tell.

“ Are we at the hotel y/n?” she asks you as she rubs her eyes to adjust from the light of the parking lot. 

“ We still have to walk in and get the room keys Eve,” you tell her and she groans in disappointment, just wanting to sleep but at least the hotel isn’t too far. Too tired to nag about it, Eve gets out of the car to help you get all your stuff together so the both of you can head inside the hotel. 

The receptionist was very understanding about the check-in time, not wanting to waste your time with small talk, and quickly gets the both of you out of the lobby to your room. Eve had made sure to splurge a bit on the room as she wanted to treat you to something nice and she smiled as you saw the reaction to the room but most of all the reaction to seeing the bed. Not even giving yourself time to look around and running to the bed so you can get some hours of sleep. Eve was very happy that she recommended wearing comfy stuff on the drive to the hotel to avoid having to change. 

“ oh so cute,” she mumbles to herself seeing you on the bed sleeping soundly, and gets your bags to the corner of the room. Eve feeling very tired gets out of her shoes and makes her way to you so that she can cuddle with you. 

“ you asleep yet honey?” She asks you and when she gets no response back, Eve slowly but surely falls asleep, with excitement running through her bones with what the next day will bring.

The next day

The first thing that you see when you wake up in sunlight and are aware of what time it is is before looking at the other side of the bed and seeing it’s empty. Wondering what time it even is you grab your phone to see what time it is and see that it’s only 10 am but also wonder where Eve might be. 

There’s no text from her and you don’t see her in the room but your question is answered when the older woman comes through the front door with 2 coffees in her right hand and a bag in her left. 

“ so they didn’t have much for breakfast here but I managed to find a cute little breakfast place and I got us some food!” She tells you, easily managing to not spill the coffees in the cup holder. 

“ so what time did you wake up babe ?” 

“8 am, “ she says. 

“ And you didn’t sleep in,” you say, a little sad because she’s always been an early bird type of person compared to you and wanted some of her famous eve fletcher cuddles. 

“ honey,” she starts as she makes her way to you,” I promise that I’ll sleep in tomorrow after the concert right now I’m just so excited for today.” 

There was no fact that Eve was so excited for this concert, the last time you had seen her this excited was when she brought you to the craft store for knitting supplies, which was adorable. Eve looks so cute right now smiling like an idiot, in turn, it makes you smile because you were making memories with the best person ever. And you knew I’m your heart that the woman sitting across from you felt the same in her heart too. 

A couple of minutes go by where you look at each other with love and affection before Eve makes the move, slowly leaning into you before kissing you with so much passion. Eve is the one to take the lead as she quickly gets in your laps to get closer to you, always wanting to feel your touch at all times and you gladly give her that as she feels your hands roam around her body, mostly to her hips to keep her in place

“ someone’s horny, “ you say before moving your kisses to her neck and she gladly accepts. 

“ This should be fun,” she says before you switch positions to have her under your body

30 minutes later.

“ y/n honey come and eat your food,” she says to you as you walk out of the bathroom in only one of her T-shirts, and she can’t help but stare at how pretty you look in her clothes. 

“ did you get French toast?” 

“ yep, and an iced coffee for you to go along with it,” she says as she continues to eat her breakfast, a stack of pancakes with some syrup while looking at her phone. 

While you were sleeping peacefully, Eve had been looking online for more information on when it’s the best time to get to the concert since the tickets were put tickets and both of you were in no mood to wait in line for too long. She had seen there were no openers so it meant both of you had time to buy food and merch before the concert started.��

“ what time did you wanna leave the hotel ?” You ask her taking a bite of the French toast, letting out a small moan at how amazing this taste and making your girlfriend giggle. 

“ I’d say since we aren’t too far from the stadium I’d say around 6 pm to get in the VIP line, then it gives us time to find our seats, get merch food and then find our seats,” she explains to you while you listen carefully to her plan. 

“ what’s the bag policy Eve?” 

“ no backpack but yes on purses” 

“ We bringing the reusable one tho ?” 

“ yep,” she says continuing to eat her food and looking at her phone for more information. 

Breakfast goes by quickly as you and Eve enjoy this time together, eating. Laughing and talking more about plans for later. There was no way that the both of you could go out exploring the city and opted to stay in the hotel til it came time to get ready and leave. Which was easily agreed upon as it meant more time together for cuddling and some well-needed Netflix time. 

Also meant that Eve got to choose what you’d both watch and she chose the Great British baking show, a good choice in your option

. A couple of episodes and a season of the show later, the alarm on Eve’s phone rings and signals her that it’s time to get ready.

“4:30 pm already?” You ask her.

“ Yeah honey,” she yells from the shower. 

Helping Eve get ready was a fun process as she wasn’t the best when it came to her makeup skill but lucky for her you knew how to do a couple of cute eye looks and made sure to choose colors that go with her outfit. She chose to go with a simple gaga T-shirt that was given to her by you for her birthday, a pair of shorts as the weather called for it, and just some pair of converse. Not wanting to go all out she chose a simple eye look to go with her shirt. After Eve was done getting ready it was time for you to get ready, which didn’t take long and once you came out of the shower in your outfit, there was no denying how hot you looked. Eve had to stop herself from pouncing on you as there wasn’t much time to get ready before having to leave..

“ Holy fuck babe,” Eve says as she looks at the outfit you looked at. You had taken some inspiration for Lady Gaga’s “john Wayne “ music video as it was the easier one to recreate with such little time. She had never seen the pink cowboy hat you were wearing but either way was enjoying the recreation of the outfit so much.

“ You like it babe?” you say as you spin in a circle to show her the complete fit and leave her in shock at the detail in everything.

“ How did you even get all of the detail like babe this is amazing,” she says grabbing your hands to spin you and look at everything, okay not that she just loves admiring you so much and it’s something you don't mind. 

“ Amanda helped me actually,” you tell her.

“How?”

“ She has a cousin who’s good at these things and helped me out last minute, “ you tell her. She always was the most fashionably dressed at work and it makes sense you’d go to her. Eve is gonna have to thank her once she gets back to work cause holy hell you look so amazing at the moment. As much as the older woman wants to spend more time talking about your outfit, she decides to help you out with your makeup too, to return the favor of course. 

“ pinks and soft colors baby ?” Eve asks you as he looks at the makeup pallet in hand that’s full of an assortment of pinks. You nod to her answer and trust Eve to do what would fit best to the outfit and she does just that. 

20 minutes of Eve doing her concentration face, bad jokes made by you and she completes the look. She gets off your lap so that you can go to the mirror and the happiness on your face makes Eve go crazy and feel more confident when it comes to doing makeup. 

“ Eve you did amazing,” you say and embrace her in a hug which she accepts right away, never being the one to deny your hugs.

“ y/n what time is it?” She asks you as she gets out of your embrace to collect her items and see that the both of you just finished getting ready on time. 

“ it’s time to head over to the stadium Babe,” you tell her as you grab the hotkey and your phone, not needing your wallet since Apple Pay’s usually been the thing you use to pay. Getting out of the hotel is a breeze as Eve practically pulls you away due to the excitement she’s feeling.

“ Someone’s excited, “ you say as Eve pulls you through the crowd of people it seems to be the busier time in the city and you know that she doesn’t want to lose you by accident. Grabbing you from the arms fails so she pulls you closer to her body to hook your arm to yours and the both of you walk to the stadium for a good 5 minutes, seeing the Gaga merch stand at the front. You turn to the woman to your right, who’s amazed to realize that she’s about to see this goddess of a woman live.

It was a good idea to arrive early as the Vip line seemed to be a bit longer than the regular ticket line but not as long as the march line in the front. Most likely there’ll be a couple of merch stands in the stadium before the concert even starts so no rush for the both of you. 

The line luckily moves quicker than you expected and before you know it both of you are looking for some food when Eve asks you an important question. 

“I know it’s been a while since I’ve seen the tickets but what area are they in?” she asks you in the line for food. When you first got the tickets for the concert, Eve didn’t check the area because at the moment all she could feel was excitement and it just occurred to her now where the seats even were. 

“ Well how about we get some food, and shirts from the merch stand, and then we can make our way to where our seats are Eve,” you tell her and the woman tries her best not to act like an excited child at a candy store, doing her very best to seem chill but deep down your girlfriend is so so filled with excitement. Eve offers to pay for the food but as she was getting her wallet from her purse to pay you to beat her to it and she pouts because she wanted to treat you to something nice. 

“ My treat Eve and, being with you is already treat enough,” you say which makes her blush right away and hold onto your arm while you grab the food. Never did you think that you’d be in a wonderful relationship, being able to treat her like the queen she is, and yet you never fail to appreciate every moment you spend with her.

There was never a day that Eve always felt all the love, desire, and appreciation from you, even when the both of you are busy. She never got that from her Ex-husband when they were together, her son never seemed to appreciate what his mother had done for him and she thought that she was fated to be alone for the rest of her life after her son left home from school.

And then she met you 3 years ago and she felt appreciated, seen, loved, and desired by you. Eve had someone who made her feel amazing, pretty, sexy, happy, and most of all appreciated. since you had worked long, hard hours at work just to get tickets. 

Eve lets herself be taken to the seats in the stadium, walking past different people who were either dressed down in a simple outfit to people who were dressed up in some amazing outfits. As the both of you get closer to the seats on the floor, the amazement that she’ll be only a couple of rows away from the stage makes the older woman jump in glee because this was going to be so amazing.

“ What do you think Eve?” you ask her as the both of you sit down in the seats and she leaves her food on the floor carefully and places more kisses on her lips. She was over the moon at the moment to give a shit if she was kissing you in public, fuck whoever if they decide to tell the both of you to cut it with the PDA. 

“ y/n my dear,” she says after pulling away from the kiss to get some air,” You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me”. 

“ babe,” you say, feeling yourself start to tear up a bit,” if I wasn’t wearing any sort of makeup I’d be crying right now. I feel the same way Eve”. She giggles at your reaction and holds your hand while the both of you sit together for the concert to start, your girlfriend excitingly waiting with a huge smile on her face as well. You also ended up making a couple of friends as well while waiting, even playing Uno together since you thought it would be a good idea to bring the card game if you got bored playing. 

“ Wait did your girlfriend bring Uno cards to a concert,” the woman in front of you asks Eve who only looks at you with a confused look. 

“ I don’t even remember when it got in my bag y/n, how the fuck did you do that?” she asks you while the other new friend that both of you made, laughs at what’s happening. 

“ I will not reveal my secrets,” you say to her and she can’t help but find you super cute. 

An hour later of talking, giggling, eating food, and playing way too many rounds of Uno that it even got a lot of people around you spectating and the concert started. Both of you were excited about this, having been busy for the past couple of weeks, and were happy to get time to de-stress. 

During each song, Eve was pulling out all of the dance moves, jumping along with the crowd ( she stretched before avoiding soreness), and singing like nobody’s home. The one song where Eve got excited during the whole concert was a free woman. 

Her music throughout the years had helped Eve when she had a hard time with her life and when the chromatica  album came out, she was struggling with her insecurities, having her son, her ex coming back into his life and making her be the bad guy in his son’s eyes. The music was there to cheer her up during hard times when she didn’t have you close as you couldn’t go and visit her as well. She was one of many things that helped her continue with each day and Eve sang her heart out at that moment, taking in everything at the concert. 

 By the end of the concert, Eve was very much full of excitement, glee, and happiness with every song and she could not be more thankful that her wonderful girlfriend gave her the opportunity to do this.

[apompkwrites]

reader impact || first meeting

series masterlist characters: xiao, albedo genre: fluff summary: a game has been released entitled genshin impact, consisting of otherworldly abilities relying on the basic elements of nature. the game follows the story of an interdimensional traveling twin in search of their other half. along this journey, they meet different characters that live in this world. including you. notes: have i read a few genshin impact x game character reader stories and impulsively decided to make one too? maybe. you can't prove anything. i don't know if this will be a series but we'll see :D

xiao's playthrough -

xiao, named as alatus on his streaming platform, has made himself known as a gaming streamer with an awkward personality and blunt words.

he's the type of streamer who wouldn't have a set type of game and would, instead, play whatever his viewers recommended.

valorant? sure, he'll try it out.

hitman? why not?

animal crossing? it's a complete 180 from the other games, but sure.

when one of his viewers recommended genshin impact, he was quick to say yes and search for the game.

once the game finishes downloading, he quickly begins the game.

once the opening cutscene passes, he compliments the overall aesthetic of the game, pointing out the smaller details such as the footprints made by his character and the sound their clothes make when they move.

as always, his expressions are quite monotone to a point where it seems nothing draws his attention towards the game.

one of his mods, however, knows xiao well enough to where he knows which character he would like.

they convince xiao that the game is worth sticking with towards the second half of chapter 1, act 1.

he doesn't understand but he trusts his mods so he promises to continue.

it takes a few hours, especially because of the grinding, but a few streams later he's finally made it.

after fighting a one-sided argument with cloud retainer, he immediately begins his trek to the wangshu inn. and yes, trek, he enjoys walking/gliding through the world of teyvat rather than fast traveling everywhere.

he walks up the stairs to the top floor of the inn, resting his hands in his lap as the cutscene begins.

"to the blind, everything may not be as it appears..."

xiao is normally stoic during games, even ones with scenes made to fluster the player and catch them off guard.

but not this time.

once xiao's character is faced with yours, he just stops. his chat is spamming messages, asking if he's okay and if he's actually emoting for once.

he just stares at your character for a good five minutes.

and trust me, at least half of his viewers clipped that.

"... who are they?"

that was his only question after those minutes of silence. never before had he been attached to a character within the first few minutes of meeting them. his mind is racing and all he can think about is how amazing your character design is and how nice your voice is and how cool your character is and--

oh right, he's streaming right now...

anyway, the more your conversation goes on, the more he loves your character.

you're just so sassy and snappy but he loves you either way.

once you turn away with your back towards the camera, he just stares.

he stares at the intricate tattoo on your exposed arm and the mask hanging off of your belt.

and then you're gone.

his face drops so quickly and his viewers are very quick to point it out. he grimaces once paimon starts talking and he's very tempted to just speed through her dialogue.

he just wants to see you again.

once he hears from verr goldet that you've never smiled (at least around her), he immediately turns to the camera and says, "we better make them smile in this game."

once he finds out about your favorite food, he's already asking his viewers if he's able to get the recipe for it.

the next time he gets to talk to you, his face just lights up once he sees your character standing on the balcony.

however, once his characters tell you about rex lapis's death, his heart sinks when he hears how sad your voice becomes, even if your tone is still as harsh as before.

he gets all sad again when the quest ends and he has to wait to unlock the next archon quest.

he ends the game there and decides to spend the last few minutes talking to his viewers.

"i'll stream genshin again soon."

his viewers all know it's only because he met you.

albedo's playthrough -

albedo often does art streams and the occasional science-y stream.

if he does games, he mainly uses them to admire the art/mechanics of the gameplay.

genshin impact was one of those games he decided to play on his own solely because of the beautiful scenary.

(and the opportunity to draw more characters).

he's definitely the player that cares about elemental reactions above all else. pretty much every character he uses is built for elemental damage instead of physical.

most of his genshin streams are him walking around teyvat and pointing out the scenary.

he was definitely excited for the dragonspine event because that meant a better view of teyvat!

what he wasn't prepared for, however, was the reveal of a new character: you.

he isn't too into looking at the updates for genshin on his own, so he didn't find out about who you were until his stream asked about it.

he decided to react to the newest updates live since his chat seemed excited to hear his input.

once he pulled up the latest update details, he spent a few minutes talking about the new subzero mechanic.

but once he scrolled down to the characters... OH BOY

he's able to keep his composure but he definitely spends longer talking about you.

he almost gasped when he saw you were the chief alchemist of mondstadt.

combine that with the fact that you rely on elemental damage instead of physical...

your honor, he's fallen hard.

he'll put a countdown on stream to when your character and event drops, even on his non-genshin streams.

speaking of those streams, on the week just before your event, his streams will all be based around you and the information he's seen on you.

his art streams will consist of you and how he thinks your attacks will work just based on the description (he purposely avoided all pictures of your attacks for this stream).

his science-y streams would probably be based on your element.

once your event drops, that's the only thing he'll stream until it's over.

your assistant used to be his favorite character to play as but they just never clicked. it's not like he hates your assistant, it's just he didn't immediately fall in love with them.

his party definitely has your assistant in it, though.

he would have normally taken his time to look around dragonspine and admire the new scenery, but he couldn't help but speed through it until he finally gets to see you onscreen.

once the cutscene officially introduces you in front of a canvas, he's internally panicking.

you like art too?! and science?! how perfect can you be?!?!?!

he will genuinely feel bad when he scares the hilichurls because he knows that that's what you were sketching.

"who are you? why did you alarm them?"

NOW HE FEELS EVEN WORSE

even when you tell him you've finished sketching, he wants to make it up to you :((

if he were able to, he would've lured more hilichurls to let you sketch more.

some people in his chat would probably spam him to skip your dialogue because it's so wordy, but that's the exact reason why he listens to it all.

he likes listening to your character ramble on, especially because you have a soothing voice.

anytime your character does their idle animation where you give life to something, he will always let it play. even if your dialogue is finished before the animation, he would not progress until it's completed.

once your character asks for help, he would immediately agree before you finished your sentence.

man just wants to spend more time with you.

he likes staring at the tattoo on your neck whenever the camera is close to you. he just thinks it's really pretty on you.

once your other nonplayable assistant begins talking, he'll skip through the dialogue. he doesn't care if it goes more in depth into this world's alchemy, he just wants to hear it from you.

"hmm, looks like the potion's ready. i'll try a little first."

"please don't..."

he doesn't want you to try it just in case it hurts you :(

anytime he is allowed to walk freely with you around, he'd definitely put his traveler character next to you for a few minutes and just let you two stare at each other.

someone asks him why he spends a few minutes doodling on his desk when you talk.

he shows them the notebook that he had been writing notes in. it's filled with little doodles of you and some more information you give on the world of alchemy.

for future streams the involve you, he'd set up another camera to show the notes and doodles he's making about you.

sometimes he'll spend a few minutes on a single section where the camera is focused on you just to recreate the picture in the notebook.

he absolutely loves whoever planned out the camera angles because of how cute you look in every one of them.

he definitely gets a bad vibe from rosaria when she hints at the fact that you may be using alchemy against him.

he will defend you and alchemy to his grave!

that one scene where you create a flower in front of you is one he will always treasure.

he makes sure someone clipped that moment just so he can draw that, make it a print, and put it on his wall.

since most of his viewers most likely consist of artists, he will encourage them to draw you and send him fanart. he will put them all on a wall and dedicate every picture that goes there to you.

"if i one day lose control... destroy mondstadt... as well as everything around it..."

"huh?"

"will you be there to stop me?"

"wait... no."

if people were only listening to that portion, they would still be able to hear the pout on his face.

he'll end the game there but change his stream into an impromptu art stream.

he will only be drawing you in nice situations to distract himself from the fact that there is something going on with you.

"hm? what do you mean something's wrong with (name)? i have no idea what you're talking about."

poor boy's in denial...

[decepti-thots]

ficlet - mesothulas, prowl, G rated, 750 words - cracked smile and a silent shout

needed a sfw warm up to needle at during work to get over some writers' block, cause my actual current WIPs are pwp, and i wanted to do some before going home and working on those. found this pre-canon taraprowl kicking around as a random snippet and finished it, because taraprowl brainworms are my happy place, you know?

i have a couple more in there, so guess we'll see if i get any others done this week? no promises.

anyway. here is a ficlet about prowl and mesothulas and a baby that is also a body. enjoy.

On AO3.

Prowl watched as Mesothulas tended to the body.

It wasn’t right to call the body dead. Death would imply a prior period of animation, not just the property of lifelessness. And strictly speaking the body wasn’t even lifeless. To prevent degradation of some of the more delicate inner components, Mesothulas had pre-emptively set up a charge feedback system that left it humming in the corner where it was stored, running as warm as any mech in recharge might be where it was tethered to the jury-rigged power supply. Even the eyes lit up slightly as a side effect, though they never focused. The artificial sentio metallico held its shape rather than dripping back into something inert. It was a live body, but it was very much a body and nothing more, and Prowl hated the damn thing.

Mesothulas had no problem whatsoever getting in close to clean between its seams. The still thrum of it seemed not to bother him at all, nor the stare that would have been less unnerving if it was truly dark and dead. He alternated between a stream of consciousness tossed over his shoulder about progress on the work Prowl actually had him down here to do and quiet, babbling nonsense he only caught snatches of directed towards the thing itself. As though it could somehow hear.

“It imprints on the brain module,” Mesothulas had insisted the one time Prowl brought it up. “He’ll already half know us once he wakes up, you see.”

Since then, Prowl had made a point to keep his voice down when he visited. He wasn’t sure when the us had turned up. Since he’d first noticed, he had been trying to run a risk-reward analysis on letting it stay and keeping Mesothulas happy versus nipping it in the bud. It never quite seemed to resolve.

The original decision to let him go ahead with the idea at all had seemed far simpler. No real material reward- Mesothulas made grand claims about army building, but he had no plan whatsoever for scaling the project, and he dodged around the matter deftly when Prowl asked outright. But the only thing keeping him down here was the fact he wanted to stay. The radiation kept other people out. Prowl was under no illusions it was keeping Mesothulas in. Better to let him have something he couldn’t take with him and didn’t want to leave behind, even if it meant a drop in overall efficiency and a re-adjustment of Prowl’s carefully siphoned budget. Long term commitment was near guaranteed, and that alone was worth it. He had thought.

Watching Mesothulas gently finish wiping dust off one of the crude, smiling body’s naked ball joints, Prowl failed to quash the growing suspicion this had been a misjudgment. The other mech had not turned to look at him in well over five minutes which, his analytics program informed him, was a previously unusual but now increasingly common occurrence. On his last visit, Mesothulas had dedicated thirty two percent of his time to the body once he had delivered Prowl the weaponry he had come down to check on. Prowl grit his teeth. Unfamiliar anxiety welled up in his chest.

“Mesothulas,” Prowl said. He had pitched his voice low and the mech didn’t turn around. “Mesothulas,” he repeated, louder.

“I’m almost done,” Mesothulas said. Prowl restrained himself from walking over, pulling him away. He waited, frame tight, because there was no actual reason to do so and the pointless urge ought to have been far more concerning than Mesothulas being self-indulgent about his pet project. It wasn't. He refused to dedicate any of his tac-net to the matter.

Thirty seconds later, Mestholuas sighed, gently stroked down the body’s shoulder as though to soothe, and turned around. He was smiling under his mask. Behind him, the body had a vacant rictus fixed in place that looked nothing like one at all. Mesothulas must have put it there; no cold construct frame Prowl could remember from his own onlining had been anything like so uncanny, or so carefully arranged. Prowl himself had onlined needing oil in almost every major joint, he recalled.

Once Mesothulas was within range, Prowl pulled him away by the elbow. Mesothulas went willingly. He curled one hand around Prowl’s where it grabbed him, squeezing hard.

“I do have one more thing I forgot to show you,” Mesothulas said, and Prowl let him pretend at wheedling him into staying longer as he pulled them both across the room.

(leave a kudos/comment?)

[fruitcoops]

Night Changes

This isn't based on an ask, but I've had some early-Cap ideas brewing and think about the first time the team heard him laugh a lot. His and James' friendship is so sweet in SW--the beginning of it must have been such a shock to them both. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

So maybe James had bitten off more than he could chew. It wasn’t the first time, to be sure, but coaxing (read: drag kicking and screaming) his new teammate out of the carefully-constructed mosaic of scowls that made up his entire personality was proving to be a little more challenging than he previously expected. With most rookies, all it took was some elbow grease and overenthusiastic inclusion in group events to get them to open up—with his brand-new soon-to-be best friend, he had to handle things a little more delicately.

Sirius Black was a puzzle wrapped up in one of those freaky code-breaking machines from World War Two Lily liked to talk about. He was one of the best hockey players James had ever seen, but off the ice he seemed to shut down. The intense focus on his face smoothed out into almost perfect neutrality, and in the four months since he joined the Lions, he had never once smiled for real in front of the team. He sat in his stall and padded up in silence, then went out and kicked ass before following Pascal home like a living shadow.

Naturally, James took it as a personal mission to pry Sirius Black’s closed-off persona open like a stubborn oyster. He tried including Sirius in group events—the rookie went along with a quiet “yeah, sure”, but sat at the table and nursed a single drink for the entire night. He tried getting into friendly banter with him on the ice, but it was like Sirius had never joked with anyone in his life. Hell, he even tried finding him a girlfriend, which tanked harder than the goddamn Titanic.

“Rookie!” James shouted down the hallway.

Sirius jumped and turned around, obviously confused. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” James laughed, jogging over to toss an arm over his shoulders. “What’s up?”

“Not much.”

He waited for Sirius to continue, then rolled his eyes and gave him a friendly shake. “C’mon, man, how was your weekend? Has Dumo coerced you into being a stay-at-home babysitter yet?”

Sirius’ frown deepened. “What? I come with him to practice every day.”

Change tactics, change tactics— “Got any plans for Friday?”

James knew the answer, of course; it was always no or not yet or a simple shake of the head. If he was a less observant man, he would have assumed Sirius didn’t actually want to hang out with the team. But the longing looks toward their easy rhythm and the way he always tilted himself toward locker room conversations told a different story. “None yet,” Sirius said with a shrug.

James gave him a friendly slap on the back. “Good, ‘cause I’m having a party at my place and you’re not allowed to miss it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want you to be there, duh.” The bewilderment didn’t fade from Sirius’ face, but beneath it—well, maybe James was just seeing things, but he looked almost hopeful. He ruffled Sirius’ hair and headed for the locker room. “Friday at five, rookie! I’ll be waiting!”

--

The week passed in a slog of practices and cold weather. Sirius clammed up more and more as the party drew closer, but James didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered between the rest of them like he was analyzing a play. He would make one hell of a captain someday, if he could just relax a little.

“Hey, rookie, want a ride?” he asked when the big day finally arrived.

“Don’t you want to go home and set up first?” Sirius’ brow furrowed. For an eighteen-year-old kid, he was awfully thoughtful. James couldn’t wait to see him let loose a little. “I wouldn’t want to get in your way.”

“It’s a yes or no question,” he teased, poking the bit of exposed shoulder through the widening hole in Sirius’ under armor.

“I…” He faltered, then the corner of his mouth twitched up. It was the closest thing James had seen to a smile from him yet. One point for Potter. “Sure, Pots. Thanks.”

“No problem. Meet me at my car in five or so, yeah?”

“D’accord.”

“Oho, fancy French,” James laughed, turning back to unlace his skates.

It wasn’t until thirty seconds after Sirius left the room that he remembered he never told the rookie what his car looked like. Horrible, terrible visions of the poor guy wandering around the parking lot—or, god forbid, thinking James had left without him—flashed through his mind. It would undo everything he had been working so hard to build.

“Shit,” he hissed under his breath as he shoved his gear into his duffel with reckless abandon and hurried out of the locker room. His legs would be stiff from trying to run so soon after a grueling drill practice, but it was worth it to save his friend. “Rookie? Hey, Sirius, you still here?”

There was no response. James cursed again and made a beeline for the door to the parking lot. Please, God, don’t let him get lost. I need him to trust me.

“Oh, thank fuck,” he panted as he burst out onto the half-frozen concrete.

Sirius looked up from his phone with a strange expression. “Are you okay?”

“Thought I lost you for a sec.”

“You said to meet at your car, yes?” He glanced between James and the car in sudden worry.

“Yeah, yes, absolutely, I just—” He made an aborted gesture and dug his keys out of his pocket. “I realized I forgot to tell you which one is mine.”

Sirius blinked at him. “I know what your car looks like.”

“How?”

“Because you drive it here every single day and you gave me a ride three weeks ago.”

‘Dumbass’ went unsaid, but James could feel it hanging in the air. He coughed lightly. “Right. Anyway, you can toss your bag wherever and hop in the passenger seat. My place isn’t far from here.”

Sirius took his duffel as he unlocked the car and settled both in the trunk with more care than James’ poor, battered bag had ever seen in its life. That was another thing that confused him about Sirius Black—he was so careful. He walked quietly for someone so tall, and each movement seemed pre-planned.

Each movement, that is, until he tried to get in the car. “Uh, Pots?”

“That’s m—oh.” James covered his mouth to stifle his laughter as Sirius tried to fold himself into the passenger seat and failed miserably. “I’m sorry, my girlfriend was sitting there last. Uh, there’s a lever on your right—yeah, there, just give it a pull and—”

With a harsh ka-chunk, the seat slid all the way back. Both men froze. It took everything in James’ power not to burst out laughing at the deer-in-headlights shock on Sirius’ face.

“Yep, that one,” he managed. “Nice job.”

They drove in relative quiet—James chattered on about weekend plans and hummed to the radio while Sirius watched out the window with the occasional monosyllable response. It took James a bit by surprise how comfortable he was, even without a steady stream of banter. Sirius might have been stubborn and silent and determined to foil all James’ plans at getting him to socialize, but he was calming to be near, like an anchor on unsteady water. Despite his overall quiet air, he was obviously paying attention to every word that left James’ mouth.

“You’re a good guy, y’know that?” he said as they turned onto his street. Sirius glanced over in surprise. “Most people tune me out within, like, five minutes.”

“I’m a good listener.”

James opened his mouth to respond, then paused. “Was that—Sirius Black, was that a joke?”

Something akin to mischief—mischief!—crossed his face. “Maybe.”

“Were you roasting me?” James gaped at him. “Oh my god. The guys are never gonna believe this.”

“Probably not.”

“You sick bastard. They won’t believe me.”

“You can give it a shot,” Sirius said with a shrug as the engine turned off. Pieces began to connect in James’ head as he stared, incredulous, at the rookie he thought would never even crack a smile. Four months of work had not been wasted, as he had feared; every joke, every one-sided conversation, and every attempt to get Sirius involved had been seen and heard and taken to heart. When he thought about it, he wasn’t sure he had ever seen Sirius actively agree to something unless James asked personally.

“We’re friends,” he said aloud, too surprised and too happy to hold it in. Not friends in the way James was with the rest of their loud, over-the-top teammates, but friends all the same.

“Well, yeah,” Sirius said as if it was obvious.

James unbuckled his seatbelt and socked him lightly on the shoulder, barely suppressing a shriek of excitement. “Love you, man. Grab your shit, we’ve got a party to set up.”

----------------

As much as it pained James to say it, having someone around who was six-foot-three was a huge help. There was no blow to his pride as he dragged Lily’s stepstool out; no grudging acceptance that he simply couldn’t reach those last two inches on the wall. Instead, he could foist any and all responsibility on his brand-new best friend in the whole wide world and focus on the things that mattered, like putting anything breakable or important far away from the grubby hands of his inebriated teammates.

His success was still ringing in his ears when the guests finally arrived—throughout the evening, James rode the high of accomplishing his mission to pull Sirius Black into his tight-knit circle. Every minute of those four months was worth it.

Midnight came and went, and by one-thirty in the morning James’ cramped living room was packed with tipsy hockey players in a vague imitation of a circle. “Non, non, I’ve gotta good one,” Dumo said, hiccupping. The room fell quiet as he leaned forward. “What do you call a body of water with a chicken in it?”

“What?” Kasey whispered, starry-eyed like a kid at Christmas.

“A swimming pool.”

The room stayed quiet, and then someone started to laugh. Slowly, they all turned to the source of the noise, and James felt a ripple of shock roll through the team as Sirius snorted. “It’s a swimming pool,” he said around a smile, his accent thick from three drinks. He had a nice laugh; James could get used to hearing it. “Like—poule, like chicken?”

His whole face was alight with happiness. James wasn’t sure whether to cry or cheer. That’s what I’ve been waiting for, he thought. That look, right there. Sirius fit in among the group like a missing piece of their puzzle, snickering away as if he hadn’t been stoically silent a day in his life. His laugh was downright bubbly.

“I don’t think they get it,” Dumo said into the rim of his cup.

Sirius shook his head, trying to catch his breath. “D’accord, so—so ‘chicken’ in French is poule, yeah? So a chicken in a body of water is a swimming poule. Do you get it now?”

A few oh’s of understanding washed over them, but several people continued to stare. “Too drink for this,” Sergei grumbled, though James could see the smile pulling at his mouth as Sirius turned to him with bright eyes.

“But it’s funny!” Sirius protested, so earnest it made James’ heart hurt.

“I think it’s funny, rookie,” he assured him with a clumsy pat on the arm. “And it’s my house, so I say Dumo gets a point this round.”

Kasey hiccupped. “Hey, anyone who makes the rookie laugh gets points in my book. No offense, dude.”

“None taken,” Sirius said, though his cheeks were pink.

James nudged him with his shoulder as Talker started a knock-knock joke. “It’s okay,” he said under his breath.

Sirius picked at the label on his cup. “I know I haven’t been very social,” he muttered.

“It’s okay,” James insisted. “It always takes rookies a while to warm up, so we’re just glad you’re happy. I’m glad my best friend is having a good time at my party.”

A heavy silence fell between them as Sirius looked over, eyebrows raised. “Best friend?”

“What, like you didn’t see this coming?” James slung an arm over his shoulder. “Yes, you French-Canadian nerd, you’re my best friend. And that means I’m your best friend, and there’s no take-backsies.”

“What the hell is a take-backsie?” Sirius laughed. “Did you make that up?”

James grinned. He had the feeling this was the beginning of an excellent friendship.

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

Sorry but what exactly is up with the bad batch arc? I've heard people talk about the issues with echo's white skin but I haven't heard that many bad things about the arc itself? (ik you said you don't want to be negative on your blog so I would absolutely understand if you didn't answer this ask)

Oooooooooooh boy. Well I just had a long, long, LONG rant about it with someone, but I guess I’ve got an excuse to put all of my points onto a post and talk about it publicly now that I got an ask x) I’ll keep it under the cut so I don’t throw my salt in people’s face. I really don’t want to upset people who love that arc - it has redeeming qualities, but overall it pisses me off so much for so many reasons. So here:

The first issue is obviously two members of the Bad Batch (minus Echo) being being just about the furthest thing from maori no matter how much you're willing to stretch it. 

Like... yeah, nah. I wouldn’t even accept Crosshair and Tech (grey haired guy and goggles guy) as Jango’s natural biological sons, nevermind as his clones. 

The problem is that their different appearances are justified by them being described simply as clones with desirable mutations (i.e superpowers). But why the hell did the creators have to change their appearances for that to be a thing? How does that correlate? Sure, the concept of clones with different faces is interesting, except... no, no it’s not, and I’m gonna rant about it in a few secs. But basically it's like they thought giving them different faces would be a good substitute for having different personalities (another thing I’ll come back to). If they really wanted to have buff clones with super eyesight or whatnot they could have just done that, without making them lose what little melanin the lighting of the show had allowed the other Clones to keep. 

But the gigantic problem is... showing that the "regular" clones have VERY distinct identities despite their identical faces has been one of the themes of the show from episode 1. Literally, the first episode of TCW has Yoda taking time out of a mission with galactic stakes to tell the three clones he’s with (who tell him they’re all the same because they have the same faces) that they’re wrong, and that they’re very different in the Force, that their appearance doesn’t matter, that they’re all equally unique and important, and he lists all of their individual skills, strengths and weaknesses. 

And it’s not just me being bothered by that, here’s a post by @cacodaemonia​ saying the same thing. 

Introducing the Bad Batch as "unique" clones who are "different" and "not like their brothers" because they have different faces and skills completely breaks that theme of the show!! Because the entire point of the Clones in TCW is that their faces don't matter, they ARE unique! 

(Plus the Bad Batch’s character designs are so cliche and uninspired it’s just laughable to try and justify bleaching their freaking skin for the sake of visual diversity. 

This took like 10 seconds. I found the first guy by literally googling “soldier movies,” and the other two are Team Fortress characters that look a LOT like Wrecker and Crosshair. One is “Heavy” and one is “Sniper” lmao.

And behold:

The above picture is a Team Fortress reference that I found just by looking up “bad batch clone wars,” so I’m not the only person who sees it.) 

And the batchers don't even have personalities to justify calling them unique! They have no character traits beyond the most cliché american soldier tropes ever. We have a token loner sniper, a token "smart tech guy" who knows everything from xenoanthropology to biology to Separatist computers to sound waves to encryption, a token Badass Brooding Leader and a token “dumb muscle guy.”

I dare anyone to find more about their personalities than this: - Crosshair is the perpetually grumpy sniper who looks down on "regs,” - Wrecker likes to blow up stuff and doesn't like heights, - Hunter is the leader and is friends with Cody, - Tech is smart doesn't trust Echo. 

That’s it, that’s literally it. Four episodes about them and that's all we get. These character tropes are literally the least inventive ever. FFS, Hunter even has a freaking KNIFE! Not a vibroblade, mind you, like in kriffing Star Wars. A knife. Against metal droids. Why. They couldn’t make this more of an american-war-movies cliché fest if they tried. (And sure, he can feel electromagnetic waves so maybe it does make sense for him not to carry a vibroblade and maybe this is nitpicking, but he looks like a ripoff of a Predator character and it pisses me off).

Another thing is that when you introduce characters you have to make them likable - and them despising the normal Clones is a terrible way to do that! And they don't even grow from that because at the end of the 4 episodes arc they just see Rex as not bad "for a reg" and they see Echo as no longer a reg, and both of these things are infuriating! 

The worst thing imo is that Echo then becomes part of them (and irreparably loses his melanin in the process, uuuuuuuuugh) when there is nothing to justify this. 

The dialogue goes like this: 

ECHO: You coming? TECH: Not really our thing. CROSSHAIR: Accolades. WRECKER: Yeah, we're just in it for the thrill. Yo! HUNTER: You sure it's your thing? ECHO: What do you mean? HUNTER: Your path is different. Like ours. If you ever feel like you don't fit in with them, well, find us. (they leave) REX: Those are some of the finest troopers I've ever fought alongside. Echo. You and I go way back. If that's where you feel your place is, then that's where you belong.

Echo doesn't feel like he belongs anymore, okay, but why would he feel like he belongs with the assholes who up to the last five minutes of the mission thought he was probably a traitor, and also verbally expressed that he was not worth saving?? In all of the arc, Echo himself never voices that he feels he’s not ‘like the other Clones’ anymore and that he feels it’s a problem. His relationship with Rex immediately picks up where they left things off - the first thing he does upon being lucid again for the first in over a year is cracking a joke for Rex’s benefit. 

Why would Echo feel like he doesn’t belong in the 501st anymore, when we don't even see him interacting with anyone from his past life except for Rex and Anakin (who are both extremely very supportive of him)?? If there had been one scene of a “regular” Clone (ugh) looking at him with horror and disgust or something, or just Kix and Jesse cracking jokes with Echo awkwardly standing by the side not getting it, I could forgive the show trying to make it feel like he has an identity crisis, but this was so shallow!

The only thing that makes Echo and the Bad Batch’s experiences similar is that they *look* different. It’s so against the themes of the Clones I’m seething just from thinking about it. And what the hell? Echo ALREADY didn’t fit in. That was the WHOLE POINT of Domino Squad. They didn’t fit in because they thought they were better than anyone else because they had trouble getting along with their brothers, so obviously it had to be their brothers’ fault (ahem, Bad Batch?). And you know what happened? Domino Squad OVERCAME that. And Echo and Fives still didn’t “fit in” because their personalities were unique and creative, and they became ARC Troopers because Cody, Rex and the Jedi VALUED THEM FOR PRECISELY THAT. Echo having new and unique skills and a modified appearance is the most bs justification for him feeling like he doesn’t belong!! 

And that brings me to my biggest issue: Rex telling Echo the bad batch are some of the best troopers he's ever met. I'm sorry, based on WHAT? What Rex values above everything is loyalty and brotherhood, and the Bad Batch DOESN'T DISPLAY ANY OF THAT. We never see them even expressing concern for each other! Wrecker treats saving Cody’s life like a trivial issue, because it’s just ‘sO eAsY’ for him, and beyond that we never see them supporting each other or genuinely expressing affection for each other beyond boasting about each other’s skills... 

Sure they can destroy a lot of droids, but they're dismissive of Rex's brothers, and the entire Umbara arc and this arc showed what he thought of that. They keep saying things like "not bad for a reg,” don't show any trust in Rex's skills or experience (even though they can't have been fighting in the war for more than a year and a half when he’s been there from the beginning, and he outranks all of them), they are essentially guerilla fighters which has only minimal value in a galactic war, and they never grow beyond their views of what regs are, and can and can’t do. 

None of that should make them good troopers in Rex's book. Going back to Echo not fitting in, remember who taught the Domino Squad the importance of seeing all of your brothers as important and equally valuable? Shaak Ti, true, but more importantly? 99! The guy the Bad Batch are named after. He did have value and was important and was no less of a trooper than his brothers, even though his mutations made him LESS powerful, not more. (And btw, just from a writing standpoint, the batchers don’t have any weaknesses, which is shit.) Cody and Rex mourned 99 as a true soldier even though it wasn’t his sacrifice that brought them victory (which would have implied that he had value as a soldier and a brother because he saved them, as opposed to him having that value intrinsically), because that’s what a fine trooper is to them. A BROTHER first a foremost, someone altruistic, brave and loyal. The Bad Batch distort the meaning of 99's character with their behavior. They’re not altruistic, their bravery is mitigated by the fact that they’re freaking invincible, so of course they take risks (again, see Wrecker saving Cody without a care because it’s easy to him, as opposed to Rex being ready to run into a burning ship about to explode because his brother is in there, and having to be physically dragged away). The Bad Batch denigrate their brothers for being less skilled, thinking their own abilities make them unique somehow, when 99 could barely fight and was still the one who taught Hevy about being a good soldier. 

And again the batchers don't grow from that. Which is all the more frustrating because the original ending didn’t have Echo joining them, from what I remember of the unfinished episodes, and the arc actually ended with them receiving their medals in front of regular troopers who cheer for them, as opposed to them smugly ostracizing themselves and dismissing the ceremony as trivial and meaningless. (original ending vs s7 ending: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ab1eCfzKamw) 

It’s so annoying. Do you know what characters never had an entire arc dedicated to them and still have far more personality and more interesting designs and more symbolic weight?? 

Jesse, for starters. Kix. Dogma. Cut. Slick. Keeli. Ponds. Rys, Jek and Thire. Commander Doom. Commander Fox. Wolffe. Hevy. Hardcase. 

Cody was a more interesting character just in his RotS appearances. 

Waxer and Boil had one episode about them and then only two cameos plus Waxer’s death, and they’re still some of the most memorable, beloved Clones of the whole show. And Boil was grouchy and prejudiced like Crosshair, but he has so much growth that we could make a whole thread about it. 

I'd say the last problem with the Bad Batch is that it has cash grabbing money hungry vibes. Different faces are more marketable, cliché personalities are more toy-friendly, and it's basically a big ad for the Bad Batch series. And they throw Echo in the Batch at the end for bs reasons (again, it wasn’t in the original ep from what I remember) and they tease Cody in the show to make sure fans will still watch even if they notice the lack of soul. And less melanin sells more at Disney apparently. 

So that’s my whole pissed rant. 

[supernovafics]

𝐀 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑

pairing: andy barber x fem!reader

summary: in which the night was supposed to be special. however, it seems as if something is always going wrong. on this specific night, you and andy have convinced yourselves that everything will finally go according to plan, but it isn’t long until things go awry. you’re not ready to call it quits on it just yet, though.

warnings: defending jacob au (no mentions of laurie or jacob), fluff, slight angst, explicit language

word count: 2.3k words 

author’s note: first andy imagine! hope you guys enjoy<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Whatever excuse you’re about to say, save it,” You said when you answered Andy’s call, and it connected to your car’s Bluetooth. “We are going to this restaurant, Barber. We’ve rescheduled so many times that I’m pretty sure at least two of the hostesses know my number by heart at this point.”

Your statement was a thousand percent true, and you were actually surprised that the restaurant hadn’t blocked your number and banned both you and Andy from coming yet because of how much you had called to reschedule. The last time was only three days ago when you and Andy were completely exhausted from the days you had at work and couldn’t bear to do anything more than deliver a pizza to your home and eat it in bed. The number of crumbs that you noticed in the bed in the morning was horrible, but overall it was worth it.

This night was different, though, at least it was supposed to be. That morning before you headed to the environmental law firm you worked at and Andy went to the DA’s office, you said that you would be done earlier than usual because you would only be doing the beginning preparations for a new case you had. Andy told you that he would be done at his office by seven, giving you both enough time to get to your eight o’clock reservation at the restaurant.

When you left your office not even fifteen minutes ago and hadn’t received any calls from Andy, you actually believed that things were finally going to go exactly how you both planned it. But, of course, you could only get but so lucky.

“I’m really sorry, honey,” Andy told you, and you could hear how sincere those words were. “This Jefferson case has been kicking my ass these past couple of days, and I can just tell I’m finally close to a breakthrough with it.”

You didn’t want to smile; you were supposed to feel at least a little bit mad that this dinner was once again on its way to getting canceled. But, you couldn’t muster up even a hint of a frown; instead, you genuinely felt happy for Andy. You didn’t know much about the case, but you did know how much of a pain it had been for him thus far, so you knew that you couldn’t make him stop working on it right then when things were finally about to turn around. Especially because you knew that if the tables were turned, he wouldn’t make you stop, and you wouldn’t want him to.

These heavily work-oriented sides of the both of you were what caused you two to meet in the first place. You were both in the local bar that pretty much all of the lawyers in Boston would frequent, celebrating wins on your recent cases. You chalked it up to the alcohol running through your veins and the pure happiness you were feeling, because that case was such a big win for you, as the reason why you so easily fell for Andy that night. Because you had always sworn to yourself that you would never get romantically involved with another lawyer. But Andy was different.

“How much longer do you need?” You asked him, already thinking of ways that you could rearrange things so that maybe, hopefully, the night wouldn’t be a total flop.  

It was quiet on Andy’s end for a moment, and you could tell that he was really thinking about his response. “No more than an hour. I promise.”

You glanced at the time displayed in your car; 7:14 pm. “Okay, I’ll call the restaurant and see if they can push our eight o’clock reservation to nine. And I’m on my way to your office now, so I can make sure that your hour is actually an hour.”

Most of the time, actually all of the time, an hour was never really an hour; it was always, always more. And you knew that for a fact because you were guilty of it too. Your respective workaholic natures were something that you both simultaneously loved and hated about each other.

“I love you,” Andy’s voice was soft and comforting.

Although those three words were pretty much second nature to hear after seven years of knowing Andy and five years of marriage, they never, ever failed to make your heart warm.

“Love you too,” You said and smiled to no one but yourself. “I should be there in twenty.”

• • •

The drive to Andy’s office was shorter than expected, which you were surprised about. However, you were unsurprised to only see Andy’s car in the parking lot when you pulled in; you swore that no one at that office worked harder than he did.

“Hi,” You said as you lightly rapped your knuckles against the open door of Andy’s office to grab his attention. His gaze was solely focused on his computer, and his eyebrows were knit together in a concentrated look that you had always found endearing.

When his blue eyes pulled away from his computer and landed on you, a smile found its way on his face. “Hi.”

You walked over to him, and he stood up from his desk, opening his arms which you wasted no time going into. As you wrapped your arms around Andy, the flooding sense of comfort that you felt made you sigh in contentment. Being in his arms always felt like being home.

“The reservation has been changed to nine,” You said, your words slightly muffled due to the way your face was pressed into his chest, but Andy still heard you.

“I’ll be done soon,” He told you, his voice getting lost in your hair.

When you pulled away from the embrace– it was reluctant at first, but then you remembered that there were actually things that needed to get done– you went to sit at the chair that was on the other side of the desk, shrugging your jacket off and placing it on the back of the chair. You nodded your head at Andy’s previous words, knowing that the definition of “soon” that you two had become accustomed to was different than what most people perceived it as.

As Andy went back to working on the case and you mindlessly watched him, a sudden wave of tiredness washed over you. Although your own day at work hadn’t been too chaotic, it was still pretty exhausting. A small yawn escaped your lips, and your eyes settled on the small-sized couch in the corner.

Your gaze was still trained on the grey couch when you heard the sound of a drawer opening, and when you looked at Andy, you saw that he was holding out a folded-up throw blanket for you to take. You grabbed it, and the familiar forest green color and softness stood out to you; it was the one you would usually keep in you guys’ living room.

“When did you start keeping this here?” You were already letting the blanket unfold and wrapping it around yourself.

“After the last time you came here and slept on the couch, and my suit jacket was horrible at keeping you warm.”

You smiled at the thoughtfulness behind the gesture. “Goddamnit, I love you.”

“And I love you,” Andy smiled back. “Now go take a quick nap, and I’ll wake you up in fifty minutes when I’m done with this, and we can finally make it to the reservation.”

You easily found comfort on the couch as you had done a few times before when you decided to join Andy during his late work nights. The couch was weirdly cozy, and you never knew if it was because of how tired you were that made it feel so nice or if it genuinely felt that way. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take long for you to drift off to sleep.

• • •

“Hey,” A soft voice slowly pulled you from the unconscious state you were in. “Honey, wake up.”

You mumbled a slight protest, pulling the blanket draped over you higher so that it shielded your face. Then, you remembered where you were.

You pulled the blanket back down, and when you opened your eyes, you saw Andy’s face; he was kneeling down next to you.

“What time is it?”

He evaded the question and instead said, “I’m sorry.”

“Andy,” You sighed as you sat up from the couch. You felt around for your phone and grabbed it, almost immediately checking the time; 10:03 pm. “Andy.”

“I fucked up,” His voice was quiet, and you pulled your eyes away from your phone and looked at him.

“What happened?” You asked as you tried to rub the remaining sleepiness out of your eyes. Even though you had apparently taken an almost two-hour nap, you still felt extremely tired.

“It was eight, and I wasn’t finished with what I needed for the case, but at that point, I didn’t even care and just wanted to go to dinner with you,” Andy took a seat down next to you on the small couch as he began to launch into his explanation. You watched him with intent eyes. “But, then I saw you sleeping, and you looked so peaceful and tired, and I didn’t wanna wake you. So, I kept working, and I was gonna wake you by eight-thirty, but the time got away from me, and the next thing I knew, it was nine.”

You didn’t say anything in response at first. Instead, you leaned back against the couch, closing your eyes and once again pulling the blanket over your head because there was nothing else you really wanted to do.

“I’m sorry. I know that you really wanted to go to the restaurant tonight.”

You finally decided to say something. “It’s okay.”

You felt the blanket shift, and you opened your eyes to see Andy coming underneath it and pulling some over him– luckily, it was long enough– so that the two of you were cocooned inside of it. “It’s not. You deserve to be mad.”

You considered his words and knew he was right, but you weren’t mad. Honestly, if you were a thousand percent truthful with yourself, you didn’t give a fuck about the dinner and the restaurant. More so, you cared about what it represented, or at least what your mind had warped it into representing.

It had been so long since you and Andy had spent a night together that was solely romantic and didn’t involve the two of you lounging about in your home eating takeout or being completely exhausted from work. You had desperately wanted something that resembled how it used to be between you two before things became so domesticated. For reasons you couldn’t decipher, you wanted a glimpse back into the beginning, almost honeymoon-like, stages of your relationship with him. And it seemed as if it was something that was entirely out of reach at this point.

“But, the night’s not a complete bust.” Andy’s words pulled you out of your scattered thoughts. However, they did nothing but confuse you.  

Before you could ask him what he meant by his statement, he pulled off the blanket that was draped over you both, and it was then that you noticed the set up of Chinese food takeout on Andy’s desk. The food was plated nicely on disposable plates that you were sure were from the office’s break room, and there was even a lit candle in the middle of the desk. You noticed that the candle was the one you had gotten Andy for Christmas with the sole purpose of him having it in his office; apparently, the scent was supposed to be very calming.

Looking at the setup made you finally fully realize that the restaurant and dinner did not matter. In fact, this was far better than being in a fancy restaurant surrounded by other people and trying new food that you probably wouldn’t like anyway. This was much more romantic, and you loved every aspect of it.

It made you feel slightly frustrated at yourself that you had been making such a big deal out of it all in the first place. It wasn’t the restaurant that would make you feel reminded of the early aspects of your relationship. It was simply being with Andy that would, and always did, make you feel that way and more.

You did not know why you were on the verge of tears, but you did know that they were nothing but joyous. You looked over at Andy and noticed that he was staring at you so that he could gauge your reaction to everything. You smiled at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “This is great. So great. Fuck, I can barely even form words right now.”

A breath of a laugh fell from your lips, and when you pulled back from the embrace, you placed a kiss on his cheek, his beard grazing your chin in a way that you had always loved.

“I’m glad and relieved,” Andy said as the two of you made your way over to his desk. “It’s definitely not high-end restaurant quality, but it is from our favorite place on Bleeker Street.”

You settled in your chair, your mouth watering at the food in front of you. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until then. “Maybe we’re not meant to go to fancy restaurants anymore. We’re just takeout people now. And I think I’m okay with that.”

Andy’s lips upturned in a small smile. “Me too.”

“Now tell me everything about this godforsaken case,” You said and then took a bite from your egg roll. You always enjoyed hearing about his cases; it was a contrast from the work that you did that you always found refreshing, although most of the cases were more bleak if anything.

As Andy launched into an in-depth telling about what the case was about and the issues arising with it, you looked at him adoringly and listened intently as you both ate your food.

There was no grand dinner, but everything was still romantic, actually even more so. To you and him both, it was still a night to remember.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts<3

[theseerasures]

While you're doing reactions, if you're up for it, how are you feeling about all the finale predictions you made on March 23? By my count, you scored pretty well!

hooooooo boy (the alluded post, for those just catching up)

how i feel about my predictions is that...you’re right and i scored pretty well, but much like the characters doing right in the episode itself, it didn’t matter. part of the reason why the finale made me feel so much--why i loved it, despite still being emotionally hungover from ugly affect--is because i WAS right, but i was so often right but wrong on a smaller scale, or right but wrong because i completely misunderstood the overall thematic stakes, or in one case right but in such a phenomenally cruel and roundabout way that i’m still reeling from it.

more detailed breakdown under the cut (as in “let’s unpack this,” and as in “i have an emotional breakdown”):

WHERE I WAS MOSTLY RIGHT

Team Green, Yang, the non-Robyn Happy Huntresses, Klein and the non-combatant Schnees were gimmes from the beginning, even the ones of whom we didn’t have visual confirmation by the end of Worthy.

Pietro and Maria are still MIA so i’m putting them here, but...Winter’s gonna have to tell Pietro, when he shows up again.

Cinder and the Relics i was correct about, but even though i knew going in that she would win i didn’t imagine the scale of her victory. mostly because i thought she might have learned some self-discipline and just skedaddled with the Relics in an attempt to trap as many people as possible in superhell, but a) she didn’t, and b) she won without needing to.

Salem, Watts, and Ironwood are where i predicted, but i think part of me really bought into the fan theory that maybe Salem would want to keep Atlas around. both Watts and Ironwood lasted much longer through the episode than i expected because i was working from that assumption, but with the direction the episode actually took it makes perfect sense that they exited the stage as Atlas fell--they are, after all, twin architect-destroyers of Atlas. brains and brawn.

Nora ended up in Vacuo, but she’s...uh, not happy about it. not that i expected her to be happy, but this is much much worse. og JNPR is now JUST Renora, and much as i love freewheeling modular megazord JNPR, that’s gonna hit like a truck. last time they lost someone Renora were consciously trying to play supportive teammate to Jaune, who’d just lost his partner, and Nora especially also had to talk Ren off the edge with the Kuroyuri stuff. i expect they’ll swap the dynamic this time, especially since Nora was already planning to go all independent woman before this.

Qrow, Robyn, and the AceOps are stranded, but in transit and not in Mantle, because Mantle the place is no more. and Vine is dead. the reason i posited that the AceOps might be split up was so they could find their team dynamic after it’s been unsettled, and...well. having one of them do a heroic sacrifice should do a similar trick. because i didn’t think Atlas would fall on Mantle i thought Qrow and Robyn (particularly Robyn) would get more to do, but both of them are pretty much exactly in the same place they were in at the beginning of the season: trapped in a cramped environment, cut off from the people they love and uncertain what happened to them, and unable to contribute in a way that they would consider meaningful. i’m guessing we won’t check back in with this crew for a while, but if we do it’ll be interesting to see if the Qrow and Robyn dynamic changes--like, if he has to be the one to talk her down from cabin fever and despair. (before he finds out that he was the one who should have been despairing all along.)

WHERE I WAS MOSTLY WRONG

Neo is in superhell. i had put her in Atlas because i’d overestimated Cinder’s ability to play the long game, but what the show ultimately doubled down on was that Cinder remains at heart a petty and impatient opportunist, and that’s where she’s most effective. which i dig! i dig that she has not so much improved (in means or ends) so much as learned to hold the beneficial and detrimental parts of herself farther and farther apart, because in the end they’re all the same parts, and because presumably she’ll end up starfishing out so much (who knew the way she took care of Winter’s death pigeons was foreshadowing?) that she breaks in two. and i dig Neo in superhell without Cinder, because it’ll be our first chance to see Neo not working for anyone outside of that one time she fought Cinder. if superhell does end up being part afterlife, she might also get some closure with the Torchwick stuff.

Jaune being in superhell points to it being part afterlife, because the chance for HIM to get some closure is also right there. that was always the case, but the reason i made the prediction i did was because i assumed that Jaune would remain the person he has been this whole season--this stolid, clueless but incredibly effective supporting leader. having a Jaune who is at the top of his game meet up with Pyrrha again is obviously appealing, especially to me, a person who scribbles misshapen hearts labeled “Arkos = 5evr” on all my notebooks, but at the time i didn’t think it was necessary to his story...and then the story dramatically shifted his character and threw all my carefully hedged bets off (which is something we’ll also get to with...later).

having a Jaune who has just effectively EUTHANIZED someone meet up with Pyrrha again isn’t just appealing--it’s vital. and it’s vital because the exact parameters of how and why Jaune ended up having to kill Penny is a point-for-point echo and escalation of the way the Amber to Pyrrha transfer was supposed to go. last time Jaune Arc was party to a Maiden transfer process he had no idea what was going on, and he tried to intervene when he worked out that whatever Oz was doing was going to hurt Pyrrha, and that however minute thing contributed to Pyrrha’s death and the Fall of Beacon. this time it’s not just that he knows what’s going on and the stakes of it. it’s not even just that he is the Ozpin operating the Aura Transfer machine. it is that there is no machine--there is just him, holding the knife. he knows the Amber better than the Pyrrha this time, and this time the Amber is his friend, and still whole, and choosing. not just consenting, but asking him. trusting him. so he carries it out. the old Maiden dies, and like Ozpin he dies shortly after, but not before he watches the new Maiden fail.

but he does prevent history from repeating, because a new Maiden is created, and she gets to live. and Cinder Fall has made him a murderer on top of everything else, but she WILL remember him, now.

there are other people i was wrong about, but that’s...for later.

WHERE I WAS RIGHT AND IT DIDN’T MATTER

Ruby, Blake and Weiss are all in superhell, so on paper i was right, but...well. sing it if you know the words. the reason i’m putting them in their own section is because it’s not just that they fell and didn’t jump like i thought; it’s that they would not have jumped, and that changes everything. you know how i realized that we would lose everyone, and not by choice? it was Weiss. it was when Weiss said we have to do this for Yang. Jaune had reminded Nora of what was priority one minutes before, but the implications of that didn’t sink in for me until Weiss confirmed it. they PLANNED for this. not just the eventuality where they would have to die, but the one where they’d have to watch everyone else die and do nothing except keep going.

which...has implications. the best way to read this--and i think we’re all dying for some good news--is that even if it certainly does not feel that way, RWBY was able to snatch a partial victory from Salem’s claws. they lost the Relics, but they got the Maiden powers away, and most importantly: they saved Atlas and Mantle. by the time Jaune intervened Grand Central was empty. there was no one left to evacuate. they didn’t get everyone, but they got a lot. even before Cinder intervened so catastrophically they knew how many things could go wrong, so they made a plan, and largely stuck to it. on a purely material level they only lost one thing vital to the war effort--the Staff. but they got everyone else out, which was priority one. the show in general and this arc in particular has emphasized that our heroes don’t think they should be exceptionalized, that they’ll fight tooth and nail to make sure everyone is given the treatment and respect they deserve, and they’ve made good on that. they’re Huntresses, and Huntresses be thou for the people. they chose, and they won what mattered to THEM.

but on the flip side: they chose, and there’s no way to read this choice as anything but a compromise...and a very Atlesian one at that. when confronted with calculus similar to the one JYR faced after they lost Oscar in War, our heroes chose...the opposite. one, then three, then four, then five, then six for the many. what was that number compared to two entire cities’ worth of people, especially when they’re the ones who signed up for this? i’m not trying to take this down the slippery slope where our heroes are no better than the dictator they just dethroned, because when the time came for sacrifice they chose themselves first. but it remains a sacrifice, which means that when the time came to test the hard moral limit they set for themselves, they...moved. they decided ahead of time that some risks aren’t worth taking. that this is not a situation where everyone wins, so they had to go for the next best thing, then the next best thing after that, and so on. i’m honestly not sure where it points to yet, except my usual refrain that this show is a lot less didactic than it seems, but...yeah. this is going to lead to some invigorating discussions in-universe.

and maybe it’ll start with this: that Jaune and Weiss--the two who had to verbally advocate for leaving the fallen behind--fell last of all, which means they had to watch everyone else go first. and the last person they saw was the same person. Weiss, who executed the plan to brilliant perfection, saw the past--the first family she ever had--streaking after her in an endless void, forsaking the priorities they all agreed upon, for her. Jaune, who followed the plan to execution and broke a part of himself, saw the new Maiden he crowned, backlit and pulled away by the bright future that he ensured was possible, but can no longer access.

QUEENMAKER

i’m starting with Penny, because Penny came first. there has already been a ton of discussion on the ways that she’ll come back, and while i absolutely agree that she will, for now i am not so much interested in that as i am in eulogizing this Penny. the Penny we had just now, not identical but continuous with the Penny we had before that, in the same way that everyone is not identical but continuous with who they were in the past. the Penny who IS dead, her eventual resurrection notwithstanding.

because she DID die, and her death matters. that’s the thing about the deaths in this season, and it furthers my point re: RWBY’s presumed didacticism--the show’s treatment of death has changed as our heroes have changed. it is no longer (and never was) as simple as “death and sacrifice are always senseless waste,” and more something like...”death has to matter, and we will give it meaning.” Hazel and Vine sacrificed themselves, and the fact both resulted in a “positive” outcome (more lives saved) does not make the deaths any less tragic. but neither should the tragedy of it take away from the fact that they saved lives. what separates our heroes from a Salem or a James Ironwood even now is that they recognize the importance of grievable life even as they accept inevitable death, that what is worth it all about preserving life is not to make sure that lives go on forever, but that lives have meaning and are remembered, that when you’re gone the people who are still here respect you enough to carry that meaning with them. it’s a tenuous balance to walk, but all the more important for that reason.

Penny--though her death can and will be reversed--is much the same. in every arc there has been a Game of Three Maidens (which i guess would make shogi the better metaphor and not chess because--what AM i on about), and in every Game there has been sacrifice. and i thought that would encompass Winter, here. we’d get away with it not being literal death, since Fria already took care of that, but she would be trapped on the other side of the gate--in pretty much the exact same position James Ironwood ended up in the episode itself, actually. it just seemed obvious: she’s the decoy, the one who missed the call by inches, the last revealed defector when there still was an Atlas from which to defect. all of it pointed to Winter’s story ending with one last delay barring her from salvation, of her finally being too late...

and well. i WASN’T wrong in the broad strokes, but first there was Penny Polendina. Penny could have let Jaune try to save her and Weiss die for her, but she knew she had to make a different choice to save as many lives as possible. so she offered herself up as the sacrifice instead. last week i waxed prolonged poetic about how Winter defected so recently, how it has been just IronwoodandWinter for so long, how Winter doesn’t have a team and only the healing shreds of a family, how no one would think to look for her...and then Penny did. you were my friend. (given Winter’s rough age and the hazy creation dates for the PENNY Project, it’s possible that Winter is Penny’s OLDEST friend.) Penny thought of Winter as she was dying, thought about the good Winter could do if Winter had her powers, believed in Winter, and in doing so, saved Winter’s life before anyone else’s.

she ceded the spotlight to Winter in this last episode, but this season as a whole belongs to Penny Polendina--the myriad ways she creates herself, the ways she defends her self-creation, ultimately culminating in her new body, created by no one but herself. but for her final act the Maiden of Creation did something different and no less miraculous: i thought of you. a thought was all it took.

she created someone else.

KINGSLAYER | THE MAIDEN THAT WAS PROMISED

the thing about Winter is that she came first.

no, i’m serious. i checked the fairy tale and everything--Winter came first. as the Wizard’s first visitor she encouraged him to reflect and meditate, and when probed about why she was here at all, she answered: i am waiting for my sisters. Spring and Summer have to wait, too, of course, but. Winter was the first.

Jacques and Willow named their firstborn Winter. it is not the way this story begins, but it is certainly is one of them, because the story begins with Winter, and Winter begins the story--a new retelling, a new cycle of heroism. we’ve since been introduced to other characters in that indeterminate age group between RWBY and STRQ, but Winter--by virtue of being Weiss’ older sister--anchors herself to the new generation in a way those others (even Cinder, who comes closest) do not. she started things, in the mythical emblematic way that this show likes to move, and the way she started things--the way she MADE herself start things, thanks to the house she grew up in--was with love, and protection. she took care of Weiss and laid the groundwork for the person Weiss is today, and conversely: she took care of Weiss, and through Weiss, laid the groundwork for herself and how to take care of everyone. so eventually the steel thread she tied to Weiss she also linked to Whitley, to Penny, to Marrow, to all the people they love, and on and on it goes. Winter loved Weiss, so she made herself learn how to love Weiss, and so when i say she started things what i mean is she started family. a new home, for a new generation of the orphaned.

Winter came first. but as the show demonstrates time and again, especially with Winter: first does not mean best. because being first also means you’re the prototype, a volatile thing that must be tested and tempered and then discarded to make way for what comes after, what gets improved. and it is THIS part of being first that Winter has internalized most of all. Winter, the first Maiden, taught the Wizard peace and prepared the earth so that her sisters could grow and foster and harvest the life within it; Winter, the first Schnee, laid the groundwork in her siblings, but did not wait for them. and let herself fallow in the process. she left, and every time they tried to follow or stay with her she sent them away. (she keeps sending them away; even after defecting and taking down Ironwood, the first thing she says to JNPER is go.) Winter laid the first stone in the foundation, but she cannot take credit for the home her family turned it into, for all the ways it has flourished, because she willfully absented herself of that (birth)right.

and the reason she did this was very simple: she was afraid. she could not bear the thought that while she had to learn how to love she made mistakes, the idea that instead of preparing the earth she might have poisoned the well. so she ran. she turned her face away so she would not have to look, so they would not look to her. she left, and every time one of her siblings superseded her after that, every time she was made to be their Esau--passed over--it just seemed to confirm that she was right to leave. look how well they’ve all done without her.

in the stories, eldest siblings aren’t here to win. they’re here to be made an example of, and Winter...had resigned herself to that. she was prepared to be left behind for good by all the people who have outpaced her.

but then there was Penny Polendina. Penny didn’t follow her, or try to stay; Penny came back for her. Penny remembered Winter when all Winter wanted was to be forgotten, because she’d gotten it in her head that it was what she deserved for all the things she’d done or enabled or failed to do. why did Penny remember Winter? because you were my friend. there is no divine complexity to it, nothing for Winter to fall hopeless short of. there is only the fact that Winter gave Penny something, made something together with Penny, even as she was trying her hardest not to, for fear that she would create something terrible. and this does not take away from all the ways Winter did fall short, but it is still SOMETHING. and it is enough.

it was your power, after all. Penny means the Maiden powers, but she also means THIS Maiden’s power: the power to create. you made this home, Penny is saying to Winter, you should get to reap its fruit, even if you weren’t around for the labor. all you have to do is say yes.

this was a gift. she says yes. she accepts, because in the end Winter Schnee loves her family more than she hates herself.

but then--

(a gift for what? Winter will ask herself wretchedly later, after she has failed in the two tasks she thinks Penny set for her.)

the thing about Winter is that she came first. she taught Weiss everything she knows, and she was so busy doing that she never had the time to show Weiss everything she feels. so in the end what Weiss never predicted was that for all of her team’s painful planning, for all of her own pained enforcement of that plan...none of it was a match for her sister. that when the time came it was would be WINTER who defaults to the absolute ideal of “no one gets left behind,” of “every life” meaning every life, priority one be damned.

or that Winter, in trying to choose both, in finally and fiercely trying, with surely enough power to make a difference, would fail.

what are you doing? Winter heard as she watched Weiss fall into nothingness. my life doesn’t matter.

so here, then, is the story of Winter in The Final Word: a girl returns home after having left it, but in this version it is the home who has changed and the girl who has not. and from this both are unmade. but she gets to live, because she was invited back home. and she gets to go through the portal as its last passenger, into the Promised Land.

and she is still the Maiden of Creation. even after all this, THAT is still her task. to build a refuge for her people, to collect the broken strands of the family she began and her siblings continued and expanded and reinforced, and gather them up again into a new home. it will be impossible, but at the same time: she has done this before.

and this time, she will wait for her sisters.

(a gift for what? for nothing, would be the answer. gifts aren’t FOR anything. they’re gifts.)

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Persephone’s Symphony | Day One | Hades

Hey lovelies— here is the next part! I wanted to pause here and add a little note: the word tiny is thrown around here. I don’t want this to hinder anyone of you to not read this because you think the word doesn’t apply to you. I want to make a couple things clear. 1) All shapes and sizes are beautiful and I, myself, am a wonderfully plump lady. 2) I don’t use the word as a physical description in a way meant to limit a ‘reader insert’ type of fiction— I use it because Bucky Barnes is a super soldier and anyone would be small to him. Thus I hope you can enjoy it the same way I can— because sometimes we all just need to feel like a super soldier could rip us in half. Stay safe my lovelies and please do enjoy!

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: some angsty moments but overall no warnings

Word count: 4.1k

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Master List

She’s tiny. That’s the only thing he can think for the first couple hours. She is so damn tiny and fragile and soft and he doesn’t know how to be around a human that tiny and fragile and soft. Maybe it’s worse because he has to keep this tiny human alive. He hasn’t had to do that before— all the other tiny people in his life have been perfectly capable of keeping themselves alive. Even Steve all those years ago, when he only came up to his shoulder—barely— would have fought tooth and nail to stay alive. Even then it always felt like Bucky was just there in case. Maybe that was just Steve though.

He blinks— he doesn’t want to think about the man right now. He can’t afford to get lost in his head. Gods only know if he starts thinking about those days— the ‘good’ old days— he won’t stop. Maybe not for days. Maybe because they’ll remind him that he’s not supposed to be here— that he isn’t made to keep tiny, gentle, grilled cheese cooking, question asking things alive. Usually he’s the one hindering people from being alive— hindering life itself. Usually it doesn’t bug him this much but he can’t help but equate the girl in the Caltech hoodie with life—

“Is what they say about New York pizza true?”

— And himself with death.

“S’alright— Chicago is better.”

He watches as she flips through a book that she had picked up off the coffee table a few minutes ago. The Big Book of Dogs. Is he supposed to laugh at that? She is— giggling and flipping through pages upon pages of puppies. It isn’t aimed at him, her musical, soft sounds. She isn’t laughing at him. It only feels like she is. He’s learned to separate the difference these days— it’s just in his head. Still, he has to turn away from her, using the guise— his job— of being a bodyguard to keep his gaze moving.

From the corner of his eye he watches as she lowers the book, peaking over at him from behind a peppy looking Alaskan Malamute— yes, he knows his dogs. He is one, after all.

“You know, I think there are quite a few people who disagree with you on that one.”

Bucky pretends to ignore the way she quirks a brow at him, her eyes drifting back to the page. He also ignores the way his heart spikes at the little movement. Snap out of it, Barnes. He stands, stalking to the living room window and pulling back the heavy green curtain. Nobody is out there— he didn’t expect there would be someone, he just needed to move. How many more hours?

“Thought you were asking me.” He quips, staring out towards the bayou where the water has turned grey and choppy.

He watches as the rain pours down the window pane, tap tap tapping in front of his nose as the sunlight surrenders to the misty storm clouds. As much as he hates to admit it, Wilson was right— the rainy season’s rolling in on the dot. Even he is starting to feel the effects, his bones beginning to leaden.

As if on cue, she yawns, setting down The Big Book of Dogs and curling her legs into her chest, hiding them beneath the mountain of fabric she wears. “I was gauging. Consider it a test.”

Bucky huffs— not sure if he’s annoyed because of her questioning or because of how, despite the tension still laced through his shoulder blades like sailors knots, he isn’t that bothered by it. Annoyed because he isn’t annoyed— that’s a first. He lets the curtain drop again and turns to the TV where Netflix lays open but unused, blocking out one mind numbing haze for another. What would they even watch together?

“Oh yeah? Did I pass?”

Maybe some cheesy sit-com. That feels harmless enough and he’s been catching up on a few of them. Some of them even make him laugh. Maybe that’s in poor taste though. He’s never had to deal with someone else’s grief before— he rarely deals with his own as is.

“Maybe it would be better to just not ask that.”

He doesn’t think before he says it— he doesn’t have time to, it slips out before he can grab it and shove it back in his stupid, sentimental mouth. “You sound like Steve.”

Fuck. Her head pokes up, her doe eyes somehow managing to meet his gaze despite how hard he tries to force his neck to turn in the other direction. How does one person look so soft? He can see the question in her eyes, the way they spark with intrigue. He watches in slow motion as her lips— not glossy like they had been in the picture but still just as pink— peel apart.

“Who’s Steve?” Her voice is too sweet— too sincere. Like she actually doesn’t know. Then again, maybe she doesn’t— they never really used his name.

Bucky can’t answer. It’s too early and Steve is too long of a story. One hundred years worth of story, to be precise. How is he supposed to fit all of that into one answer? He can’t. He can’t answer but he can’t not answer either— not when she’s looking at him like she wants to know every little thing about him.

Bucky can’t answer so he doesn’t answer. “You ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”

She sinks back against the leather cushions, pulling her hands into her sweater. He almost curses when she curls her knees closer to her body. He can’t really see them from under her hoodie but he can see the movement— the way she wraps her arms around her legs so that she looks like a tiny blob of fabric and a head. His chest squeezes at the sight of her pulling away from him. Can he ever say anything right?

He told Wilson— he told him that he wouldn’t be a good fit for the job. What, a man like him? Man, dog, wolf, asshole. What’s the difference? He was right, that’s all that matters. It’s been all of five hours and he’s already making her uncomfortable all because he can’t—

“You’re the one who brought it up.” She grumbles, her soft— less sweet— voice pulling him from his unintentional staring contest with her forehead. His neck flushes with heat. Shit.

Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I know it’s just— it’s a long story, doll.”

Again, it just slips out. Instead of wanting to push the word back into his lips this time, though, he wants to punch himself in the mouth. Doll? Really? He watches as her eyes blow wide, his stomach sinking when her pink lips peel apart again, her jaw going slack but none of her honeyed words coming out this time. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Immediately he begins running through apologies in his head. Of course none of them are actually worth their weight— not in gold or anything else. Not even in the energy it would take to say them. What’s he supposed to say? Sorry the last time I spoke to a woman was eighty years ago. That would be even more explaining. Damnit, Bucky!

He tries not to groan out loud, clenching his jaw, still staring into her eyes. Look away, you idiot! He can’t. He’s about to say something— or maybe he’s about to literally throw himself out the window, he isn’t exactly sure which is going to play out just yet— but before he can do either the delicate girl in the Caltech sweater speaks first.

“I— erm—” she squirms in her seat but her eyes stay latched on him the entire time— maybe she’s a fighter after all— “we have time?”

For a moment he just stares at her, lost in the way her nose scrunches, her lips pressing together like she’s the one who said something out of line. Like she, too, is contemplating punching herself in the face. That’s when he caves. It’s to save her from a broken nose. He repeats it like a mantra. He isn’t giving in because he’s weak, he’s giving in because it’s his job to make sure she’s safe— even from herself.

He takes a step forward, only now realizing he’s been standing in the middle of the room the entire time. Has he always been this fucking awkward? Nodding his chin towards the floor, the space in front of where she’s perched, he shoots her a look he can only hope resonates as something along the lines of ‘can I sit?’. She nods and he lowers himself to the ground in front of her, leaning against the side of the couch as gently as the super soldier can muster. Despite his efforts he still lands with a thud, the couch shifting backwards a couple inches. It’s not terrible— she only slightly flinches this time and he only kind of wants to bury himself alive.

“Not that much time—” he watches as her face drops, the way her her cheek twitches like she's sinking her teeth into it, and he hurries the rest of his sentence— “but if you ask—” he tries for a smile that feels more like the right side of his face seizing than anything— “then I’ll answer.”

He waits for a beat, his gaze locked on her hands which she pulls from her sleeves only to twist together again. He has to stop himself from looking down at his own hands— from thinking again about how fragile and delicate she is. He doesn’t have to look to know that both of her hands could fit in one of his. Especially his special hand. She hasn’t asked about it. A few times he’s caught her peeking at it, no doubt a million questions swirling behind those wide eyes of hers, but those are questions she has kept to herself. He wouldn’t blame her if she did ask, though— or if she was terrified.

“Alright,” his eyes flick back to her face, meeting her determined stare and avoiding the way his chest lightens, “deal.”

He nods.

“But—”

Oh no.

“You have to ask me things too. It’s only fair— that way we both know things about each other.”

It’s only fair. He doesn’t know what to say. Again. It seems that every time he feels like he’s beginning to figure her out he gets shoved on his ass. Literally— he is quite literally on his ass right now. All because of what? A little girl? A little girl with small hands and a stare worse than his?

A little girl who thinks he of all people deserves fair. He knew life was cruel but this is worse— this is evil.

“Ask away.”

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

“Wait, wait, wait— you can’t be serious!”

Her giggles sound more like music than laughter to him. Usually he hates music— the newer stuff at least, maybe Wilson was right; maybe he is an old man— but this is bearable. This is mesmerizing.

He glances up at her from over his shoulder, fighting the same smile that’s been threatening his lips for the better part of two hours now. He isn’t sure why exactly he does it. Maybe because he knows it would be nothing compared to hers. Maybe it’s because it doesn’t deserve to be compared to hers. He isn’t a religious man but it feels blasphemous to even suggest he could exist with a margin of the sanctity she exudes. He’s committed many sins— that he can say with certainty— but to propose that he is the same as her would be the worst one of all.

Of course, that doesn’t stop him from soaking up every pious laugh into his wicked skull— he isn’t a perfect man, after all.

“Deadly serious. Steve was pissed at me for weeks. How was I supposed to know she had a husband?” He is rewarded with more giggles, ones that set his chest on fire.

Is that what happens when demons spend too much time around angels— they start to burn?

She pulls the blanket she acquired around an hour ago over her face, muffling her laughter much to his dismay. “You could have asked her!”

Bucky lifts a shoulder before letting it flop back down again. “You’re right.”

This is how it has gone since he proposed she ask him questions. She asks him her question— usually something light and easy— favourite color, favorite food, what was the last thing he bought. That one threw him for a loop but he answered anyway— Chinese food. She had giggled at that. You don’t seem like a Chinese food kind of guy. She’s not wrong. That is usually what she does after the questions, though— giggles. Giggles and teases him. Tortures him. Same thing. He doesn’t even think she knows what she’s doing.

Then, of course, he asks her questions of his own. They’re pretty much the same— favorite animal, middle name, what Passadena is like. Warm and busy. That was her answer— he’s never been to SoCal so who’s to say whether or not she was telling the truth. He really doesn’t care. He was more paying attention to the timbre of her voice— the way she makes normal words sound important. He didn’t know he could be so enthralled listening to someone talk about a cat named mittens.

For the first hour or so it was questions like that. The easy, no commitment kind. He wouldn’t have minded if they had stayed like that but, as he kept answering, she had grown more and more confident. Honestly, he didn’t mind that either. It was interesting to watch as she became comfortable around him. Well, more comfortable than before— more comfortable than he would have thought she could be around a guy like him. Her knees eventually pushed out of that hoodie and she relaxed into the couch. It was strange— completely and utterly strange.

By the second hour she had braved the first of many hard questions. It wasn’t what he thought it would be— still nothing about his arm— it was nothing close to that, actually.

It was about his mother.

Maybe it wasn’t supposed to be a hard question but it was, unexpectedly so. His mother. He hasn’t thought about his mother in years. Longer. Decades. He wasn’t expecting to feel so guilty about it but there he was, feeling like his throat was being crushed, while describing to the tiny, lovely girl— who has just lost her own mother— his mother’s lily of the valley perfume. He assumed that’s why she asked— because she misses her mother. He doesn’t blame her. He just never thought that he would miss his mother, too, today.

The rest weren’t as bad as that one. They still made his jaw ache, sure, but not like that. The ones about Steve were the only ones remotely comparable. How did you meet him? What was he like? What’s your favourite story with him in it? That was the last question— the one that made her giggle herself into a half hanging, half sprawling position over the arm of the couch— the position she is currently in right now.

He doctored the answers a little bit— he figured now isn’t the right time to tell her he’s pushing a hundred and ten— but he kept the good parts. Like how Steve and he had run through the streets of Brooklyn that night— Steve without a shirt and him in nothing but a pair of boxers that he is pretty sure to this day had belonged to her husband— being chased by the New York police. Good times.

“What, erm, what was her name?” Her voice is extra gentle— airy.

She’s nervous or maybe out of breath. He can’t quite tell, she’s too flopped over to get a proper look. She’s breathtaking either way.

All of a sudden it’s extra hard to fight back his smile. “I thought it was my turn to ask a question.”

Sitting up, she pools back into her seat. She scrunches her nose at him but doesn’t object. He can see that she wants to, though. Her eyes hide nothing. Then again he’s been trained to read people— to see the minute tick of her jaw and the invisible pulsing of her pupils. Invisible to anyone but him. Invisible to anyone who isn’t a monster— the big, bad wolf. His borderline smile dies quickly and he can’t bring himself to search for it again. This is how it should be.

Bucky clears his throat, mulling over what to ask her next. His eyes drift over the tan hoodie, the frays on the cuffs and the fact that there are no strings, and, like that, he has an idea.

“What’s the deal with that hoodie?” He tries to make it casual but he really does want to know— it’s like four sizes too big, there has to be a story.

He tries to make it casual but she still sobers. Like her hands receding once more into the cuffs of her sweater, the last remnants of the giggly girl fade from his line of sight. He chases it as far as he can, watching as her fingers disappear completely and lingering just in case it’s only a fluke. But no, they don’t come back, and he wishes he could disappear with them.

“It was—” her tongue pokes out, swiping against her pink lip and making it shine— “it was my dad’s. He, uh, he went to Caltech too. Was part of their alumni.”

The super soldier nods, pulling his legs up as well, hoping that by copying her she’ll see it as a signal to keep going. He doesn’t want to speak over her and accidentally derail her thoughts. He wants to know about her dad— her whole family actually. Whatever is important to her, like the hoodie.

“We used to go to these big alumni dinners and he would talk at them. Families like us were invited I guess— like a thank you of sorts.” Her eyes take on a faraway look, still latched on his but glassy and distant, no longer actually seeing him. It’s a look he understands too well. “One time he pulled me on stage with him. I think maybe I was thirteen? He said—” she stops, swallowing so hard her throat bobs, and he has to shove his hand under his leg to keep from reaching out— “ah, I’m sorry. He said ‘this girl right here— this is my daughter! If you think I’m good at what I do then you should see her. She’s something I tell you— Gonna be the best this school has ever seen!’”

His chest tightens— not necessarily from her story but from the way her voice cracks, her soft tone becoming scratchy. She swallows again and he hates it. He hates that he can see tears ready to fall and he hates that she’s even here with him under these circumstances.

He hates that he’s still grateful to be here anyway, being the person who she tells her story to.

“Was he right?” He knows it isn’t his question but he has to say something— anything— to make this better. He has no idea if this is it but it’s worth a shot.

Her brows push together, her head tilting slightly to the side, much too elegantly to be normal— are all women this pretty or is it just her? She blinks, clearing some of the mist, eyes drawing over his face. She traces across his brows, down his nose, stopping on his lips for a pulse— like tracing out the rhythm to a song only she can discern. Everything she does is like music. It must just be her.

“What?” She doesn’t say it rudely; she says it like she didn’t hear him— like she was too far lost in the wonderland of her memory to hear anything— and his chest tightens even further.

“You said your father told everyone you were going to be the best— were you?”

He doesn’t take his eyes off of her, slowing his words and waiting for the recognition to creep in. It takes a moment but it does, the last of the glass evaporating into something else.

“I, uhm, I don’t know—”

“You do.” He presses— he can hear the edge of that something in her tone. The downplay is scribed over her feature— lowered eyes, flat mouth, trembling fingers— she wants to say something.

“What do you even know?”

About anything going on in my head— yeah, that’s not familiar at all.

Bucky doesn’t flinch when she hisses the words at him— partly because, despite the clear ice in her words, he doubts they came out as hard as she was hoping they would. Her voice isn’t made to sound wretched. He knows she could tell him the filthiest things— tear him down to the last peg, spit his name out like a curse— and she would still sound like an angel. That makes her dangerous— or at least it would if she didn’t already have tears welling up in those big eyes of hers again.

He flicks a brow, letting one corner of his mouth tick up, telling himself that it’s only for her peace of mind— to let her know that he isn’t angry at her. That he gets it. That sometimes he feels so fucking confused and hurt and scared that he, too, wants to hiss at people because at least then they leave him alone. Yeah, it’s only for her peace of mind.

“Try slamming the ‘you’ harder next time—” he draws the word out, exaggerating the motion while keeping his features a mixture of schooled and relaxed— “usually works out better.”

Her hands— which have been tangling over the collar of her hoodie— drop into her lap with a thunk, her eyes rolling. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome— but you never answered.”

She shoots him a deadpan stare— well, sort of. She never actually stopped looking at him so her face just morphes from vexed to blank. So far it’s his least favourite expression— he would rather she just got angry. He’d rather see fire— or ice— than nothing.

“I thought it was my turn?” Doesn’t she know that the more she avoids the question, the more he wants to know the answer?

Bucky doesn’t let up— he will if she actually tells him to drop it but she hasn’t and he doubts she will— she’s too determined to win. “Consider it payment for your extra questions.”

He holds her gaze still, waiting for the moment she folds. It takes longer than he expects it would, sitting in silence with her eyes on him for almost three minutes. He almost breaks around two and a half minutes. The girl has a way of looking at him like she can see right into his head. Still, he holds, waiting, waiting, waiting until finally— there it is!

Light a light shining in the darkness, her mouth pulls into a merciful smile— well, if mercy means the coy glint in her eye, that is. “I was the best.”

The super soldier nods, finally letting his gaze drop. He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t have to. His point has already been made. He never wanted to be right. He just wanted her to say it. Not for him but for herself. He doesn’t let himself mull over what that says about him. Nothing good. That’s the only answer. It says nothing good about him, the lengths he’s already willing to go to keep this soft, icy girl safe. Him, a monster. It only tells him that he’s selfish— but he already knew that. Those are thoughts for another time.

“Your turn.” He reminds her, leaning back against the arm of the couch, all but aware of the foot of space between his head and her hand which is scratching over the leather behind him.

There is no pause this time— no beat, moment, or minute. Just like that she’s back, moving on to the next topic, almost as though she has had the question queued for ages now, dying to know the answer. He supposes it’s only fair— she let him ask his questions.

“What was her name?”

Her voice lacks the airy note it had held the last time she asked, clearly over waiting, and he has to turn to the window to hide the way he finally cracks, his lips sloping up in a grin that’s both too alien and too familiar. It tastes too much like the old days— like peach schnapps and movie theatre popcorn. She’s not ready for that. He knows because he isn’t.

“Delores.”

_______________

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