#perception check: starter

[charliehearted]

a closed starter for @scltnsea

It was practically wired into Charlie's bones. His trust in Hook had saved his life once and from there on out, it seemed that it had been well-founded because while some of the crew crumbled into dust and others bled out on the beach, within sight of their home aboard the ship, Charlie had survived despite it all. Perhaps some of it was the natural cowardice born to a boy thrust into a war zone at age five or perhaps it was dumb luck. If anyone asked Charlie, though, he claimed every time that it was because of Hook.

It was that trust, engrained in his blood, bones, and brain, that lead Charlie to stick his head into Hook's quarters that day. "Beloved pirate captain," Charlie called out with a smile, "may I steal a moment of your time?" Not waiting for an answer, Charlie eased his way inside, staying up against the wall and smiling as wide as he could to hide the curling and twisting nausea that had made its home in his stomach. This wasn't going to be a good conversation and Charlie knew it, but who else could he trust to tell him what was and was not something he should do? Hook always had his best interests at heart.

Allowing the smile to drop as Charlie fixed his gaze on the deck below him, he forced out the words he'd been too scared to tell his father captain, despite bringing it up to Cecco weeks ago. "Pan wants me back," he forced out in a rush, not bothering to look up to see if Hook was listening. "I went to watch the Battle from the forest, I didn't get involved, but he wants me back."

[chewingbatmanlikeasqueakytoy]

Why doesn't the justice league know about Amity Park?

Okay so it's been a bit sonce I watched the show but one of the things in DpxDC is the anti-ecto acts, which I love, but correct me if I'm wrong, I THINK ??? they only show up in reality trip? SO: What if Danny, when using the gauntlet to undo everything, also got rid of the Anti-Ecto acts? but this is babys first time editing reality so he uh Fucks Up A Lil'. As a result when Danny used the reality gauntlet to wipe the AEA from existence he accidentally wiped Amity Park from perception. A big 'nothing matters over here' jedi mind trick, and now no ones looking at Amity. So, the Justice League actually WERE looking into and monitoring the situation in Amity, but when the perception filter closed them off, all of that suddenly went ignored.

This is noticed when someone (Alfred, Dick, Tim, literally anyone) realises theres just. A BIG dusty pile of case files semi abandoned somewhere in the cave when going through a (time period)ly cave cleaning.

They put it down because it's Not Important.

They come back to finish the cleaning the next day and do the exact same thing, but there's nothing to actually distract them this time and it pings as weird. Because why would case files be not important? They are by definition important, because only things flagged as important go into case files.

They try to get someone else to read it, because as long as they don't read the information in the file, they don't put it down.

That person goes to read it, gets a line in and then says something like 'that isn't important' and goes to leave. Person A pushes it and person B ALSO catches on.

Que the Batfam trying to figure out hey, what the fuck actually?

Meanwhile, how is Amity fairing? Canon compliant everything's going alright? Or have knock on effects to No One Look Here started to show?

[hier--soir]

take your medicine

pre-outbreak joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: *tv sales advert voice* so you've been finding it hard to reach orgasm? lucky for you, our best-selling item "hunky boyfriend joel" is on sale at half price. shipping is free, and he is very determined to help you achieve your goals! call the number on your screen to buy now! OR your medication makes it difficult to orgasm so joel (and your vibrator) help make it happen. warnings/tags: set in the early 2000s aka early thirties joel my lover boyyyy, boyfriend joel, depression [nothing dark or sad], anti-depressants, brief discussion of food/eating, cigarette smoking [f], soft!supportive!joel, mentions of masturbation [f], unprotected piv sex, use of a sex toy, ride 'em cowgirl (1939) dir. samuel diege, cream pie, dirty talk, joel talks you through it. word count: 2.9k masterlist a/n: so this one is.... self-indulgent. shout out to all my friends on anti-depressants that are strugglin' to reach orgasm. me too, pals, me too. and there will be no medication shaming on this account, no there will not! so happy sunday, i hope someone else out there enjoys this short little thing with me x follow @hier--soirupdates if you'd like to be notified when i share my writing

Medication is a journey, they say. Every day will be different.

Medication is not the end all be all, they say. We can always try different avenues.

Six months on, now.

Six months since Let’s try the Zoloft for a few months.

Six months since We can reassess in April.

It’s June and summer has settled over Austin with a hot wet vengeance. April came and went with a mutual agreement that you weren’t ready to be weaned off yet. A gentle hand on your forearm and a softly spoken Why don’t we check in again in July?

A low dose. A starter dose. A you shouldn’t experience too many side-effects dose.  

And she was right – for the most part. There were no headaches, no nausea, no dizzy spells, no changes in appetite. That shallow, low mood that’d been haunting you for months suddenly began to lift. Begrudging exercise in the afternoons, a three-meals-a-day regiment implemented by your boyfriend, and a happy little pill with every morning coffee.

But fuck – you can count the number of orgasms you’ve had since January on one hand.

Countless nights spent alone in your bed, tangled betwixt sweaty sheets, fingers and forearm cramping until you finally give up. Drink a cold glass of water, wet your face, and go to bed frustrated; a routine disappointment.

You’d gotten lucky a few times, of course. Vibrator on the highest setting possible, pussy all puffed up and numb from the rough speed. Frustrated tears in your eyes, lightheaded by the time you finally feel that sweet sweet relief coursing through your veins.

A few times with Joel, too, in those first few months. And ignorance was bliss—quite literally—until he caught onto what you’d been doing.

“What was different tonight?” he’d asked you on one of those nights, laid out beside each other in his bed. Chests heaving, satisfied smiles spread across your faces.

Your hand had paused against his head, fingers twisted up in his sweaty curls, and you hesitated. So quick, the briefest pause before trying to play it off, but he caught it. Always too perceptive, too watchful of an eye; especially since you’d been diagnosed.

“What’s wrong?” Joel frowned.

“I… didn’t… my…” you’d mumbled, face tucked against his pillow.

“Can’t hear you when you do that,” he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “Baby?”

“I didn’t take my meds today,” you repeated, voice still low, still wary. But you could tell he heard you. Knew from the way his body stiffened beside you. From how when you looked over his smile had dropped, eyebrows pinching inward. 

For a moment he didn’t even say anything. He hardly breathed. And then—Darlin’, why would you do that?—so painfully soft, the faintest tinge of worry in that deep, rasping voice of his. 

“I don’t know,” you sighed, and something hot began to burn behind your eyes. Wet, pinching shame. “Just… I woke up and I wanted you. And I wanted it to feel like it used to for us, and I can never… you know I can’t finish when I’m on them, and I hate feeling like I’m disappointing you—”

“Baby,” Joel shook his head, strong hand cupping your jaw. His forehead knocked against yours; a tender but firm kind of insistence. The type that says look me in the fucking eyes and listen up. “You’re not disappointin’ me.”

“Joel,” you sighed, face hot, foreheads tacky where they pressed together.

“No,” he grunted. “I fuckin’ mean it. This stuff takes time, okay? We’ll figure it out the way we always do. Just… don’t do that again. Please.”

“I won’t,” you murmured feebly, nose smushed against his.  

“Promise me,” Joel had urged you. “Promise me you’ll take your medicine.” 

“I promise, Joel.”

You kept strong on that promise. Didn’t get frustrated when he’d stay over more nights than usual, or drag you back to his place in the evenings – all just to watch you pop that little white pill in the mornings.  

It brought out something new in him, the day you’d showed him the prescription. Like some instinctual protectiveness was unlocked and he just kicked into hyperdrive.

Cutting work early to drive you to your doctor’s office, cooking up different meals every night for dinner.

Most days you wake up alone in his bed; wipe the sleep out of your eyes as you wander downstairs. Let him nudge you into a chair at the table, beside Sarah, so he can set identical bowls of cereal in front of the two of you—his girls. Hell, if you had a dollar for every time that man has said Breakfast is the most important meal of the day in the past six months, you’d have more money than you could spend.

Joel didn’t even get mad when you started smoking again in May.

Didn’t bat an eye when he found you at two in the morning, sat on the back porch in one of his sweatshirts with the smell of tobacco staining your fingers.

“Been a long time since I seen once of those in your mouth,” he’d smirked, settling onto the stoop beside you.

“I’m sorry,” you grimaced, remembering how proud he’d been when you quit. He rested his head against your shoulder, eyes watering with a yawn.

“S’late,” he grumbled sleepily. “N’you smell now.”

“I’m sorry,” you’d repeated, stamping the cigarette into the concrete. “Today was just… hard. Couldn’t sleep.”  

“S’okay,” Joel told you. “Just don’t like it when you sneak out on me, yeah? You know I ain’t judgin’ you.”

The only thing that frustrates Joel, is that he comes, and you don’t.

And it’s not a frustration with you. No, it’s a hot faced guilt that spreads through him every time you fuck. Evident in those frantic touches, desperate pleas of your name, of tell me what to do, tell me how to help, of fuck I’m sorry.

Because you still want him, despite it all. Still can’t help your wandering hands, your fingers that tease back his bed sheets and then his boxers and coax orgasm after orgasm out of him, night after night.

Tonight, you thought, would be no different.

Covers strewn across the end of your bed, pillows askew, you sit astride his lap.

It’s hot; the AC in your apartment has been broken all week, and your thighs are tacky with sweat where they press against his skin. Everything wet – sweat in your hair, slick between your thighs, the soft squelching sound that raises with every press of his cock inside of you.

“Fuck,” Joel pants, hands tight against your waist. “I can’t—goddammit, I’m not gonna last, baby.” 

“It’s okay,” you moan, eyelids heavy as you rock your hips over his.

It’s late, and you both have work early in the morning, but the burn is so good like this. The heavy weight of him reaching so far, pushing the limits of what your body can take. For years it’s been your favourite way to fuck him; poised above his body, admiring the way his stomach tightens and his eyes roll when you sink down on his cock.

“What can I do?” his voice is strained, the veins in his neck bulging as he holds his breath – anything to stave off the impending high.

You only whimper pathetically, grinding your hips into his. Can feel everything in your stomach knotting up into a white-hot ball.

“Hey,” Joel urges, hand landing in a soft slap against your outer thigh. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t know,” you cry out, shaking your head. “It’s right there, but I…”

“But what?” he murmurs, hips snapping up again.

“I don’t think I can,” you finally admit, eyebrows drawn tight in frustration. Your lower lip is bitten raw at this point, incessantly gnawed at by your own teeth. His grip tightens on your hips and he drags you upward until his length slips out, falling against his stomach with a wet smack.

“C’mon, tell me what you need,” he says quickly, and you’re sure that the desperation you see in his eyes is mirrored in your own. Pupils blown round and fat, endless black—pleading.

You stare down at him for a moment. Watch the way his chest heaves with harsh, stilted breathes. How little dots of sweat have gathered at the hollow of his throat. And fuck, you want it so bad.

“Top drawer,” you exhale roughly, pointing to the side table.

Joel doesn’t question the order. Doesn’t say a word as he spreads a long arm across the bed, yanking the drawer open and shoving his hand inside. You watch him rifle around for a moment, pulse increasing as you wait for him to find what you want. What you need. And you can tell when he does; his shoulders stiffen and he lets out a choked sort of sound, pulling out the black wand and shoving it into your hand.

“Show me,” he says, eyes wild.

Your finger drops down against the button, turning your hand to show him which one to press.

“There’s four settings,” you murmur, slipping it back into his palm.

“Does this normally help?” he asks, grunting softly as you grip his cock, notching the tip back at your entrance.

“Sometimes,” you sigh, sinking down, sucking in the heavy weight of him. “Can still take a—a little while.”

He presses the button tentatively, watching as the rounded head of the wand starts to vibrate. Spread open around him, he can see your swollen little clit so easily, and he lowers the wand to press against it. Your body jolts forward, mouth splitting open with a groan as heat flares through you. Your hips stutter against him instinctively, chasing that intense feeling, and he looses a gravelly moan at the feeling of your wasted cunt squeezing around him.

“Look at that,” Joel grunts, dark eyes trained on your face. That wicked pink tongue slips out to wet his lips and he nods in encouragement. “I know, baby, I know it’s a lot, you feel good?” 

“Yes,” you gasp, jaw going slack as you settle into the feeling. “Fuck, yes, it’s good, it’s good.”

It’s nothing you’ve ever felt before; nothing your past boyfriends had ever been comfortable enough to try. It has the muscles in your thighs tensing up already; the thick press of his cock paired with that unrelenting, almost overbearing, vibration.

“Can feel it,” he hisses out, head tilting back into the mattress.

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” he nods, expression grim. The muscle in his jaw twitches. “So fuckin’ tight like this. All wound up, y’need it so bad, I know.”

You moan, eyelids fluttering as he presses the button again, notching it to a higher speed. You lift up slowly and then press back down over him, and the two of you groan in unison. His free hand falls against the curve of your ass and he squeezes, encouraging you to rock against him, starting up a steady pace.

One of your hands settles on your chest, fingers twisting and pulling at your nipples. You need more, always more, something, anything.

“Look so fuckin’ good like this,” Joel mutters, and you can tell how fucked out he is already as he watches you. Dark eyes glazing over, mouth hanging open deliriously. “My pretty girl, so damn good for me.”  

Your heart stumbles in your chest and you whimper, appreciation for him flooding your senses. He’s been so close for so long tonight already, teetering precariously on that edge but holding off for you. Fucking you into the mattress before pulling out and tucking his face between your thighs, doing his damnedest to get you to that same place. Urging you to get on top, to take what you needed, to use him to get yourself off.  

“I love you,” you mumble breathlessly, eyes pinching closed as something sharp starts to tingle at the bottom of your stomach.

“Fuck, fuck,” Joel snarls, hips snapping upward.  

“What ar—” your words cut off with choked moan as he clicks the button again, and then again, taking it to the highest speed. Your shoulders shake and you tilt forward a little, hand gripping his shoulder to steady yourself.

“Joel,” you cry out, chest heaving and stomach tightening.

Your fingers wrap around his wrist, searching for something to ground yourself against. That firm press against your clit doesn’t falter for a second, and you let out a rough moan.  

“Good,” he grunts. “Good girl, give it to me.”

The muscle in his bicep spasms and strains beneath the skin, everything pulled taut as he keeps the wand pressed firmly against you. And it’s almost painful, the way you can feel your high coiling inside you, burning, but never quite reaching fever pitch the way you need it to. 

A symphony that builds and billows and writhes within you. Sloping swells of violins and cellos and trumpets. Up, up, up to that shattering crescendo you just can’t seem to reach.

“Joel,” you mewl, and there’s tears in your eyes, on your cheeks. Hot, fat tears that stain your face now, dripping from your chin to splatter against his chest.

“C’mon now,” he grunts, hips shifting up off the bed, meeting you thrust for thrust. The stretch of his cock is so wide, so deep, and every shift of his body punches the air from your lungs.

“I don’t know if I can,” you shake your head, stomach on fire. The vibrations are so intense, the speed so fast, you can feel your clit going numb beneath it. But Joel doesn’t pull away, doesn’t stop the fast pace of his hips. The muscles in his abdomen twitch under you, tan skin glistening with sweat.

“You’re so close,” he goads, jaw tight. “Don’t fight it, baby.”

“Stop moving,” you beg then, your voice a high keen. Joel stills instantly, wary eyes darting across your face. He doesn’t pull the vibrator away though. Not yet.

“Fuck,” you cry out, hand firm against his stomach. “Just let me-just—”

Knees on fire against the bed, you grind your hips down into his. Gasp as his cock presses hot and heavy against something deep inside of you that sets your entire body shaking, vibrating against him; buzzing at the same high-speed rhythm as the wand between your legs. You rut against him again and again and then something pulls tight and hot at the base of your spine.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp, eyes widening. “Oh god, Joel, I think—”

“Shh, I know, I know,” he moans. A bead of sweat rolls from his hairline to his chin. “You’re okay, let it happen.”

“Touch me,” you say, breathless and needy and so so desperate. “Fuck, please.”

Joel groans – a deep, guttural thing. A sound that comes from somewhere in the base of his stomach. It rattles your bones and has your fingernails digging into his stomach, and then his hand is on your chest. Rough fingers squeezing and stroking and pinching and you’re gasping, keening his name as he whispers frenzied words of encouragement and it’s building it’s building it’s building and and and—

Everything goes silent when you come. It’s all blurred vision and deafened ears; an intense ache in your jaw from the way your mouth hangs open. You can feel a vein in your neck, raging beneath the skin; a staccato rushing sound that echoes inside your head.

And you think you can hear Joel’s voice, somewhere beyond it all; Fuck, there it is, good girl, good fuckin’ girl.

When your eyes flutter open, you can only see Joel’s face swimming in your vision. His eyes rolling back, lips parted as he snarls your name.

“Fuck,” he spits. “—yeah, that’s it, there we fuckin’ go.”

You feel his cock kick inside of you; fast jerking spasms and then a warm rush as he starts to come. Your hand wraps around his, pushing the wand to the side of the bed, but he doesn’t fucking stop. He grips your waist and fucks up into you, spitting curses and warbled slurs of your name as he pumps you full of his hot spend.

It’s obscene – a mix of your come and his, squeezing out around his girth and smearing against the inside of your thighs. It pools around the base of his cock and you whimper at the sight, swollen cunt still tightening around him. Only when you start to sag down against his chest does he rest, his thighs twitching and tensing with the aftershocks of his high.  

Joel raises a hand, calloused thumb brushing the tears from your cheeks. Then, carefully, he grips the back of your neck, guiding you down to rest against his chest.

Your shoulders slump and you press a lazy kiss against the jut of his collarbone. And for a moment there’s just this. No sounds but that of heavy breaths and a soft buzzing, forgotten somewhere in the sheets. The swipe of his fingertips down your spine, your lips against his salty skin. A gentle tap against your waist and he’s slipping out of you with a sigh, but not letting you pull away, not letting you move from where you’ve collapsed directly on top of him.

“Missed that,” you slur sleepily, fighting to keep your eyes open.

“Me too,” he mumbles. “Did so good. Made me proud.”

“S’that right?” you smile against his skin.

“S’right, baby.”

You hum, dragging your head up to press a kiss against his mouth. Both of you so exhausted that it’s just a brief, lazy swipe of your lips, but it’s enough. It’s thank you.

“Shower?” he suggests softly, smiling up at you.  

“Or… cigarette?” you respond, eyebrows raised, teasing.  

“Watch it,” he smarts, laying a quick smack against your ass before nudging you off of him. He stands and holds out a hand to help you off the bed, tutting underneath his breath. “Although I guess you’ve earned it.”

a/n: in hindsight, idk why the fuck i wrote that it took them six months to try this but what can you do lmao.

thank you for reading! x

[nightdiary]

first dates with enhypen

word count: 5.4k genre: fluff, gender neutral reader, suggestive bits in jake's and hoon's but nothing too crazy imo author's note: been wanting to write more for enha so this was born... i am down bad for all of them i fear ): also it was almost too easy to get carried away in some spots but i didn't! i'm thinking of making more specific and individual bf posts for each of the members... saving my juicier ideas for then 🤍 as always, feedback is appreciated greatly<3!!!

✧ heeseung - tinder date

you have a routine with all of your tinder dates. after three months on the app, you’d learned how to cycle through the guys quick enough so as not to waste a minute on someone who you didn’t see fitting into your life.

there are three stages to the cycle: one, they had to pass the initial profile check. simple enough, and yet most failed right at the beginning. half-naked photo holding a fish? swipe left. in a douche-baggy frat you’d never heard of? swipe left. 27, not sure what he’s looking for, and republican? hard swipe left.

the second and third stages took the longest, but that’s when the disappointment came in. after a few days of texting, the inevitable message about meeting in person would come. if the guy seemed normal enough, you’d agree, and finally meet. you’d build up the moment in your head and pick out a cute outfit and dance excitedly in your room beforehand, going through the possible conversation starters you could use if it got awkward.

you’d sit through a date with them and wait to be asked questions, wait for them to express some sort of interest in you as a person, but it would never come. instead, you would sit and listen to them harp about themselves for hours. every time, without fail, it was almost as if they didn’t care enough that you were there.

then, they’d presumptuously ask if you wanted to come home with them and, well, your decision couldn’t be clearer.

as much as you hated generalizing, the men from your tinder dates were proving to be pretty shit. they looked good on paper, but when it came down to dating you, they fucking sucked. and you were beginning to lose hope.

you’d sworn that you would take on one last date before deleting the forsaken app. lee heeseung is everything you’re looking for in a man, and you think it’s a wonder he matched with you instantly. the texts you exchange pass your perception of normal, and before you know it, he’s proposing you meet up at a japanese restaurant downtown.

you find yourself sitting across from a man you think god sent as an apology for all of the other 4 billion and some men.

“you are suspiciously perfect,” you frown, squinting at your date across the table. “like it’s weirding me out. what is wrong with you, lee heeseung?”

“quite a lot actually,” he jokes, “but my mom says i’m a good boy. i’d trust her, if i were you.”

snorting, you reach to snatch the last dumpling with your chopsticks. heeseung’s grab the dumpling before yours do, but he’s quick to place it onto your plate and tell you he’ll order more. as he politely calls the waitress over and thanks her when she brings over a new plate of dumplings, you can’t help but think you’re fucked. either your standards are low, or heeseung is just one remarkable man.

but as the afternoon progresses, you begin to lean towards the latter. heeseung takes a genuine interest in your hobbies and work, asking you thought-provoking and personal questions that don’t toe the line of being intrusive and passive-aggressive. you realize that this is the first date you’ve been on where you’ve talked so much, and it feels so weird to not spend the entirety of your date looking forward to going home.

“i think i’ve found out what’s wrong with you,” you tell him once both of you are standing outside of the restaurant. heeseung had paid for the bill no questions asked, and when you’d gotten up to shrug your coat on, you realized with a start that the sky outside was pitch black.

as heeseung hums unassumingly and fixes you with a questioning look, you grin and say, “you hate mint chocolate. you’re a walking red flag, lee heeseung.”

your date bursts out into laughter and shakes his head. the wide smile stays on his face as he offers his arm to you, bringing you close to his side when you take it. “fine, you’ve got me there. can i at least walk you to your bus stop before you block me?”

you pretend to think about it, tapping your chin with your forefinger, before sighing and agreeing with a matching smile. your walk to the stop takes you through a busy central street that’s alive in the early evening, and you can’t help but press yourself closer to heeseung. he steers the two of you through the crowds with relative ease, and you somehow manage not to bump into anyone for the entirety of the walk, all thanks to him.

as you sit on the bench together and wait for your bus to show up, you use the cold as an excuse to huddle up to heeseung’s side. he laughs again, a lilting noise that tugs at your heartstrings, and you quickly realize you’ve gotten yourself in far too deep from the first date.

you have to move off his shoulder when he begins taking his jacket off. confused, you watch as he drapes the material over your back and urges you to slip your arms in through the sleeves so he can zip it up. you notice your bus rolling up to the curb and panic, turning to heeseung with a frown.

“don’t worry about it,” he reassures you. kissing your cheek sweetly, he helps you get up and walks you toward the bus door. “you have to walk home from the bus, i don’t want you getting cold. just give it to me on our next date, yeah?”

stunned, you nod shyly and step into the bus. as you scan your card and take a seat next to the window, you peer outside and grin when you find heeseung waiting to wave goodbye. he’s a bit blurry because the glass has fogged up from the heat, but you can make out the way his face softens when you trace a heart into the window.

with the promise of a second date and heeseung’s cozy coat on your shoulders, you begin making your way home, feeling oddly warm and thrilled beyond belief.

maybe tinder had finally worked out in your favor. you’d make sure to leave a 5 star review when you got home.

✧ jay - rollerskating rink

for what it’s worth, you weren’t the one that chose the location for your first date.

you’d left the decision up to jay, who, in all of his dependable glory, seemed to have chosen the worst possible location– at least for him.

“jay?” you call to the panting boy behind you. “are you sure you’re okay? we can always go sit down for a bit and come back later.”

your date shakes his head adamantly and pushes himself forward using the railing, scrunching his eyes shut like he’s anticipating another fall. he looks awfully adorable in the hot pink skates that the rink had lent him, even if he’s faring worse than a newborn deer with them on. the juxtaposition of his carefully crafted and sophisticated outfit with the cartoonish design of the skates is oddly endearing to you.

“wow, i really thought this looked harder than it actually was,” jay pauses by the railing, leaning down to rub at his ankle with a pained expression. “these skates are beating my ass.”

“why’d you choose this place if you’ve never been rollerskating before?” you can’t help but ask.

“okay, don’t laugh,” jay warns, avoiding your curious eyes. his cheeks are all red as he continues to massage his ankle, and you doubt it’s entirely because he’s exhausted from skating. “your best friend told me you like to come here a lot, but that you never have someone to go with. figured i’d be that person for you, even if i suck a lot.”

the thought of jay willingly sacrificing his comfort and the wellbeing of his ankles for you makes you feel warm all over. you help him stand up and regain his balance without relying on the rail, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek as encouragement. poor unsuspecting jay crumbles down immediately after, clutching onto the rail for support. you can’t help but laugh, though it isn’t unkind.

“just know i appreciate all of your sacrifices,” you tell him. offering your hand, you pull him up and continue to hold on to him as you lightly push backwards with your skates. “we can go slow, i’ll teach you some basic moves to get you moving around on your own.”

jay gulps but nods nonetheless, staggering forward after you. it’s relatively easy to keep him upright when you’re going at such a slow pace, his soft hands encased between the firm fingers of your own. you throw a look over your shoulder every now and then to make sure you don’t run into anyone, but the rink’s empty enough at this hour that you have enough space to move about freely with jay attached to you.

“bend your knees a little– yeah, that’s good, now glide forward one foot at a time, lean into your strides a bit,” you instruct, gaze focused on your date’s wobbly legs. the tight fitting jeans he’d worn are admittedly hot, but you feel a bit guilty thinking about jay’s thighs while he’s trying not to break the bones in them.

as soon as jay gets the basic motions down, you switch to skating side by side with him, your linked hands suspended between the two of you. he’s still slow and careful with his movements, but you can tell he’s fallen into a rhythm that works for him. you don’t mind having to inch your way across the rink with him. if anything, it’s nice having him by your side.

“i think this was just a big ploy to get me to hold your hand,” you tease.

jay flushes and, very tellingly, doesn’t say a word.

snickering, you begin to swing your hands between your bodies. jay’s hand is big and warm, and you don’t want to let go soon. “you should know i would’ve held your hand anyway. next time, let’s hold hands at a place that won’t break your tailbone.”

✧ jake - bowling

“you know what they say about men and bowling?” 

“no, jake,” you deadpan. you knew exactly where this was going, and yet you still decide to give jake the satisfaction. something about being a good date, even if jake has always been a friend you’d teased first and foremost. “what do they say?”

“they’re either good in bed or at bowling,” jake steps back from the lane and looks over his shoulder to wink at you. his arm swings back an exaggerated amount as he walks toward the foul line, sending the ball rolling onto the wood with zero coordination. it immediately goes towards the gutter. “these are mutually exclusive, scientifically proven.”

but in all of jake’s infinite luck, the ball veers towards the middle at the very last minute, hitting the front-most pin and knocking down the rest in succession. above you, the screen plays a cute animation of bowling pins running away from the ball, only to be smothered with a large neon text spelling out STRIKE! in bold letters.

“oh this is so bad for you,” you bite back the urge to laugh. jake’s mortified face turns towards you and you almost lose it at the sight of his heartbroken expression. “you’ve got another turn, by the way. let’s see if you can get a double, babe.”

jake’s next ball ends up in the gutter and he cheers loudly, earning him very confused looks from the kids in the lane next to you. one of them offers their dinosaur bowling ramp to help jake out, but he kindly turns them down and tells them he’s trying to let you win.

unfortunately for the both of you, you don’t hold up too great score-wise either. even with your one lucky spare and otherwise average abilities, jake ends up winning by 20 whole points, a feat he doesn’t seem too keen on celebrating. the light in your lane turns off after the round is over, and jake proposes you two get some well-deserved food.

“do you think this is a lame date?” he asks you once you’ve sat down at one of the plastic benches. you instantly frown at the question and reach out to spear a handful of fries with your fragile plastic fork.

“don’t worry, i think it’s sexy when men are good at sports,” you reassure him, “also it’s cute that you wanted to let me win. and that you bought me loaded fries with extra cheese. it’s super romantic.”

jake snorts, but you notice how his shoulders visibly relax at your words. navigating your friendship-turned-something-bigger was harder than you’d anticipated it would be, and acknowledging your reciprocated feelings was proving to be the easiest part.

you knew that jake was equally on edge about fucking this whole thing up. there was a lot more at stake here than with someone you hadn’t known for years prior. you were afraid of diving headfirst into something that could potentially rip away an important part of you, afraid that one wrong move would send jake tumbling out of your life. you had cherished him long before you had realized you loved him differently.

but as you watch jake chew through a forkful of fries, you realize that there’s nothing complicated about this. things have always been simple with him, and they’ll continue to be no matter if you’re dating or not.

“cmon, next round is on me,” you stand up and wipe the last of the cheese from your mouth. “if you can beat me again, i’ll consider letting you prove that silly bowling theory wrong to me.”

the speed at which jake gets up is dizzying. he’s at the counter paying before you can even catch up to him, sliding a few bills over to the employee and turning to you with a playful grin. “we’re at lane 7, babe. go get warmed up.”

✧ sunghoon - laser tag

your heart is racing so fast you can feel it in your head. clutching the plastic gun to your chest, you press yourself closer to the wall and still your breathing. the red light on your heavy vest has stopped blinking, meaning you’d recovered from the last hit, but you know you can’t risk running just yet.

the undeniable sound of footsteps creeping closer makes you inch toward the corner of the wall, where you know sunghoon is waiting for you. you bite your lip and tense your finger on the trigger, peering over the bricks that are obscuring your vision.

surely enough, even in the darkness of the laser tag arena, you can make out sunghoon’s determined face. he’s crouched down behind a beat-up car, wearily scanning the area. most likely looking for you, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction just yet.

the blue on his vest has dimmed down– you’d hit him several times earlier and knew this was probably one of his last lives left. your own indicator showed that your lives were also running low, and based on how exhausted you felt, you knew you couldn’t have much time left from the round. you had to move in soon, or risk tying with sunghoon.

in your case, you thought that would be worse than losing.

taking a deep breath, you lift your gun and peer around the corner one more time, and in the split second it takes for sunghoon to notice you, you manage to send a shot straight at his vest. but the light on his vest doesn’t budge, and as you realize you had horribly misaimed, your date takes the opportunity to aim at you properly.

your vest makes a video game-like noise of defeat and you feel your gun power down. you know you have to hide for the next minute to let it recharge, but as you spin around and try to figure out where to run toward, you notice sunghoon already closing in.

“such a shame,” he drawls, holding up his gun with a smirk. you frown, backing up until you feel your shoulders hit a concrete wall. sunghoon’s voice is quiet enough not to draw attention from your teammates, but it sends shivers down your spine nonetheless. “thought you’d finally beat me this round. what happened, babe?”

“i still have one more life left, don’t get all cocky.” you mumble, shaking your gun frustratedly. the minute needed to pass by quicker.

looking over his shoulder, you realize with a frown that you’re in quite possibly the most secluded part of the arena. there’s no hope calling out for help or trying to make a run for it.

sunghoon squints down at your indicator and moves in even closer. you feel your breath quicken when the front of his vest hits yours, and you’re left caged in to stare up defiantly at him. he’s grinning at you like he’s already won.

“i’m not going to let you win,” you lean in toward him and whisper. sunghoon’s eyes flit toward your lips, and you try not to think about throwing your chances out the window and kissing him.

“you don’t have anywhere to run,” he places a hand next to your head on the wall, and to really drive the point home, you feel him press the muzzle of his gun against your side, where you know your sensor is. you’re pretty certain he can hear how fast your heart’s beating, and it makes you flush red from embarrassment. “you ready to admit defeat yet? or are you going to keep being stubborn?”

there’s no reason you should feel this lightheaded, but sunghoon’s so, so close to you that you can’t think properly. he’s practically pressed up against you, warm and solid and he’s barely a few centimeters away, and if you lean in just a bit more, you’ll be able to kiss him.

so that’s what you do.

“sure,” you say simply, and lean up to softly brush your lips against his. you grab at his neck with your free hand, bringing him flush against you so that you can fully slot your mouth with his. he’s surprised– you can tell from the way his gun clatters loudly to the floor next to you, and you try not to smile into the kiss.

seconds later, you distantly hear your gun make a familiar rebooting sound. you hold sunghoon firmly against you as you blindly aim your gun toward the sensor on his side, and with one last peck to the side of his mouth, you pull the trigger.

sunghoon’s vest goes dark. you don’t think he registers this, though, because he stares at you wide-eyed and adorably confused as you pull back from the kiss.

“i win,” you tease, and your date blinks down at his indicator.

“you win,” sunghoon affirms quietly. conveniently, the overhead lights turn on as the round draws to a close, and you can’t help but notice the way he’s reddened all over.

“victory kiss?”

✧ sunoo - picnic

ten minutes into your date with sunoo, you make the most devastating observation ever: sunoo has freckles.

they’re visible for only seconds at time, when the sun hits his face at just the right angle, but it still makes your breath catch in your throat every time you see them. they’re littered across his face like miniature stars, dipping across his cheeks in multitudes and scattering off toward his temples and brow bones.

your hands itch to reach out and trace them.

“–and then once we finally got to the place, it turned out to be super cute and they had some of the best lemonade i’ve ever had.” sunoo’s voice slowly trickles back into your ears, and you blink the world into focus once again.

you find your date looking at you with crinkled eyes, studying your features with amusement. almost like he knows exactly what’s been going through your mind.

“sorry,” you laugh sheepishly, reaching out to grab another chocolate-covered strawberry. sunoo had made them himself for the occasion, that much he’d eagerly disclosed within the first few minutes of the date, and you had found it too endearing for your poor heart. “i got distracted. what was this place called again?”

"auntie lim’s diner,” he answers slowly, smirking when you nod off-handedly. “hey, what’s on your mind?”

“lemonade,” you respond just a bit too quickly, face blanching when sunoo’s grin grows impossibly wider. whining and covering yourself with your hands, you try not to focus on the way his melodic laughter rings out like bells.

“lemonade, huh?” sunoo’s teasing is light-hearted, but that doesn’t stop your heart from leaping up into your throat. “was there some on my face? because you’ve been staring an awful lot for the past few minutes.”

groaning, you duck your head and try to focus on finishing your strawberry. you can feel the heat rise from your cheeks to your ears though, and are certain sunoo’s made note of this when he giggles and leans forward to get a better look at you.

“you’ve got freckles,” you mumble, picking at the leaves of the strawberry. when sunoo doesn’t respond for a while, you look up and bravely gesture toward his cheeks, pointing at where you’d seen the aforementioned spots with a shaky finger. “and like– it’s super cute. you’re super cute. but it caught me off-guard so, like. yeah. sorry for staring.”

sunoo hums. you can feel his eyes roving through your face, but you immediately look away once they finally meet yours. then, you feel something warm encasing your hand, and nearly jerk in surprise when your fingers come to brush against the soft skin of sunoo’s face moments later.

“don’t apologize,” he mumbles, leading your hand down the side of his cheek, where you’d pointed just seconds ago. “i’m really flattered you noticed. and you don’t have to be shy about stuff like this, i’d honestly be a bit worried if we were on a date and you didn’t find me attractive.”

reveling at the supple skin beneath your fingertips, you feel the weight ease off of your chest almost instantly. despite having known each other for a limited amount of time, sunoo’s come to be quick at recognizing when you feel out of place or uncomfortable, and he’s become too good at easing you back into safe waters. he’s too good to you.

“don’t get ahead of yourself,” you tease back instead, unable to handle the growing wave of emotions in you. “i only said your freckles were cute.”

sunoo looks up at you through his lashes, and your hand freezes where it’s fallen by his chin. flitting your eyes downwards, you watch his rosy lips part, almost like they want to voice your hidden intentions. gulping, you subconsciously feel yourself draw in closer, until you can feel his breath wash out against your cheeks like water on shore.

your heartbeat’s in your ears and sunoo’s pretty mouth is right there. glancing back up at his eyes, you notice that he’s also looking down at your lips, tracing the minuscule movement of your tongue peeking out to wet them.

he’s so close. you can almost just lean in a bit and–

“yeah? so then my second date invitation to auntie lim’s diner has been rejected?”

pausing, your eyes widen as you stare back at sunoo in bewilderment. he’s grinning at you slyly, the edges of his eyes crinkling with laughter as his whole body shakes with amusement. you can’t help the string of giggles that bubble out of you almost like second nature. it’s nice, you think, having someone like sunoo to laugh with.

“i mean, i guess i’ll have to try this lemonade you speak so highly of."

✧ jungwon - boba place

in retrospect, choosing a first date location for you and a total stranger was easier than you thought it would be. yang jungwon, as your best friend had briefly introduced him to you, seemed simple enough to enjoy normal things. you already had a place in mind before your friend showed you his photos, but you really couldn’t help it once you laid eyes on him.

“has anyone told you your eyes look like tapioca pearls?”

jungwon’s cat-like features curl in amusement and he pops his lips off of the boba straw. he chews through his last gulp, wiping at the droplet of milk tea that had trickled out onto his bottom lip. you follow the movement with your eyes, coughing when you absentmindedly swallow a pearl without chewing it fully.

“no, but should i take that as a compliment?” jungwon asks, passing you a napkin.

you take it and wipe at your own mouth, cheeks growing red out of embarrassment. “yeah. but now that i think about it, it does sound kind of weird. i don’t want to eat your eyes, i promise.”

jungwon laughs, mouth pulling into an endearingly wide grin. okay, your friend had definitely undersold him. jungwon was cute as fuck.

“why’d you choose a boba place, anyway?” he continues, fiddling with the cup in his hold. he’d finished his drink surprisingly fast, and you have half a mind to offer him some of your own. “not that i don’t like it. great choice, honestly. but why?”

you shrug. “the atmosphere is nice. and if you’re going to go on a date with someone you don’t know that much, might as well go somewhere you can talk. it would be pretty awkward to watch a movie with a stranger, don’t you think?”

jungwon nods seriously, hair bouncing along with his movements. “your friend was right about you being smart.”

“yeah?” now that you thought about it, you hadn’t considered how your best friend had sold you to jungwon. given that he’d agreed, you figured it must’ve been pretty alright. that, and the fact that it was your beloved best friend in question, you had no doubt you were probably oversold, if anything.

still, there was a nagging curiosity in your head that you couldn’t ignore. “what else was my friend right about?”

“that you’re easy to talk to, and that i’d feel comfortable around you,” jungwon muses, glancing down as he traces the rim of his plastic cup. he seems to be mulling over his next words carefully, lips twisted into a cute pout. “they also said that you were pretty. the photos they showed me really were great, but you’re even better in person. not that looks are the most important thing but, y’know. you’re a package deal, basically.”

you feel the way your ears burn red from his words, and you stutter your way through a shocked thank you. jungwon grins knowingly, but doesn’t comment on it further. instead, he asks you if you want to share one of the cake slices in the display window that you were eyeing earlier. you try not to look too eager as you nod, choosing to ignore jungwon’s mumble of cute as he walks away. for your well-being, of course.

jungwon returns with a slice of red velvet and two forks in hand. he waits for you to take the first bite before sinking his own fork into the cake. “your turn. what’d your friend tell you about me?”

you know you have to word your answer carefully, or else you worry you’ll come off as a weirdo. jungwon’s too good to chase off just yet, and you haven’t had this much luck with a date in a long while. or ever, you think.

“my friend told me that the most important things about you were that you’re a psychology major and that you look like that one campus cat,” you trail off, unsure, “charles? was that his name?”

jungwon barely manages to set his fork down before he’s bursting into laughter. you would think you’d said something wrong but his entire face is crinkled with amuse and you can’t help but join in on the giggling, ignoring the glaring teenagers from the table over.

“charlie, yes, of course i know him,” jungwon manages to squeeze in between giggles, “oh my god, i didn’t know people outside of my friend group knew about this joke."

“so you’re the cat that’s always hanging around the quad,” you say, dead-serious, and jungwon meows cutely as if to agree with you.

“okay, so,” he puts his hand up and begins listing off on his fingers, “i look like a boba ball, the infamous cat on our campus, and what else?”

���my next boyfriend,” you say before you can stop yourself, and you slap a hand over your mouth in surprise as your cheeks color in embarrassment.

jungwon grins. “that can be arranged.”

✧ niki - arcade

“okay, now i’m actually convinced you’re cheating,” niki whines loudly, letting go of the controller and slumping back in his seat with a pout.

the game you’ve been going at for the past half hour– a car racing game set in an alternate reality– dramatically replays the moment your character crossed the finish line and won. the stark contrast of the accompanying confetti on the screen next to niki’s misery makes you giggle, and you reach out to slip the tickets that the machine spits out into your backpack.

“will you feel better if i get you something with these?” shaking a strand of tickets enticingly, you watch as your date immediately sits up and abandons his sulking to nod at you eagerly.

the teenager working the prize desk looks at the two of you with such a deadpan expression you nearly mistake him for a robot. gathering your pile of tickets onto the counter, you look up at the various different stuffed animals and boxes on display, frowning once you notice the ticket prices taped onto them, denoted with far too many zeroes for your liking. almost like inflation’s gotten to the arcades as well.

“see anything you like?” you turn to niki, brushing your shoulder against his.

you watch him survey the different rows, expression growing grim once he comes to the same exact realization as you.

“um,” it’s almost comical how you can hear the frown in his voice. “actually nevermind, these prizes are crazy. holy shit, three thousand tickets for a snorlax plushie?”

“right!” you nod, ducking your head and stifling your laughter when the employee sighs out loudly.

with your meager six hundred and thirty-seven tickets, you and niki manage to get a handful of smaller, yet arguably better things: a sticky frog, two chinese finger traps, a whistle that sounds like duck quacks, and three boxes of different pocky flavors.

“i had no idea that coconut pocky existed,” you mumble in awe, reaching into the packet to draw out another stick. you observe it under the fading sunlight, popping it into your mouth with a happy hum.

after you and niki had spent your fortune of tickets, you’d decided to take your business elsewhere (or, alternatively: leave before the employee ended up kicking you out). you found yourselves on a bench right outside of said establishment, going through each of the prizes that you’d tucked away into your backpack.

“me neither, but i really like ‘em. here, have some of the mango ones,” niki holds out a second box towards you, and you eagerly reach in to pull out some of the sticks. 

the sun’s begun to descend down the horizon, and you realize with a start that you’d managed to spend the entire day in the arcade with niki. the date seems to be drawing to an inevitable end, much to your disappointment, but you can’t help and savor the warm feeling that the day has left you with.

“it’s getting dark,” niki seems to read your thoughts. you hear shuffling and turn to see him stand up and collect his belongings, reaching out to offer his hand to you once he’s done. “i should walk you to your bus stop.”

staring up at him, you blurt, “do you want to go get a proper dinner instead?”

the words rush out of you before you can think, but no matter your shyness, you’re glad you’ve said them. niki’s surprised expression quickly morphs into something gentler, and he nods almost like he’s relieved. “oh thank god, i didn’t want to go home yet either.”

laughing, you take his hand and stand up from the bench you’d been sharing for the past hour. but even after he helps you up, niki doesn’t let go of your hand, instead threading his fingers through yours to hold you more comfortably.

you don’t say anything, but when niki looks over at you to make sure it’s okay, you smile at him brightly.

“so– fried chicken?”

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

can I request a Vox x reader fluff where they've both been struggling to come to terms with their feelings but when something (you can decide what) happens and the reader gets hurt really badly, he confesses

ANOOOOOOOOON!! YOU. GET ME. SO GOOD. HOW DARE YOU HIT ME UP WITH ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES?? Literally, give this trope to me as many times as yall want. I'll find a million ways to write it. Reap the repercussions and enjoy the food you beautiful homie, you!

Star-Crossed Idiots [Vox x Reader]

Vox refused to believe it.

Velvette had been the one to call him out on his shit first. Unlike him, she had a semblance of emotional maturity that meant she was perceptive to shit that flew over his head entirely. While he didn't understand why he found himself going out of his way to spend time with you, Velvette figured it out in a matter of days. The very fact that he had kept his involvement with you a secret was suspicious in itself. Not to mention, Velvette realized before he did. When she discovered his feelings for you, she found it hilarious. And a touch pathetic.

"I mean really Vox, you have zero reason to even know them," Velvette scoffed as she sipped on the frappuccino he had used to buy her silence. Things were already messy enough with Valentino. He had no intention of the pissy moth hearing of this until whatever this was, was sorted.

"Yet you constantly check in on their phone activity, go out of your way to run into them on the streets, and now they're even working for you just because your needy ass wanted an excuse to see them on the regular," Velvette listed as Vox did everything in his power to avoid eye contact.

Vox buried his face in his hands and groaned while Velvette rolled her eyes. "Wouldn't it just be easier to ask them out at this point? I love you, darling, but you're making this so much more complicated than it needs to be."

"No," Vox growled as he looked up and shot her a warning glare. "Do you have any idea how much shit we'd be in if I just started dating some random sinner? And that's only if the feelings were mutual."

He ran his hand down his screen with a huff, turning to look at Vark swimming up to the glass. While Vox had originally had the aquarium extend to the meeting rooms for a sense of looming intimidation, he'd found quite a bit of comfort in his sharks being able to follow him through the tower.

"Look, for all we know, I'm just pent up," Vox tried to reason. It sounded fake, even to his own ears, but he was in denial. There was too much bullshit he'd have to face if he really was as whipped for you as he feared. "It's been a shit couple of weeks. I probably just need a break and a good fuck and this will all be something you make fun of me about next week for ever entertaining in the first place."

Velvette shook her head, sighing as she pulled out her phone and started to scroll.

"Whatever you say."

---

You refused to believe it.

There was no way you fell for Vox of all people. For starters, you told yourself you'd never love again! Every time you'd tried, disaster followed. It didn't help that any potential match was one to be made in Hell. Granted, you knew not everyone in Hell was bad. There were a lot of sinners who you firmly believed belonged in Heaven or some sort of equivalent.

But even so... Vox was definitely not one of those people. Not that that was the important part or truly mattered. You were no saint either, you were also in Hell.

"I don't see what the big deal is toots," Angel Dust sighed as he watched you give Fat Nuggets attention to keep your hands busy through the stress. "There are worse people to have a crush on."

"There's better too," you whined. "I'd rather not have a crush at all," you muttered bitterly as your hand continued the soothing action of petting the teacup pig.

You'd originally been on the production team for one of Valentino's studios. That was how you befriended Angel Dust and why Vox scooped you out from under Valentino to work on his own set. He told you it was because he valued someone who had an ear for audio balance, but Angel said he'd only offered you the new job after the overlord walked in on the cameraman flirting with you right before.

"Why not just fuck the guy and see if it's a matter of heart or a matter of-"

You laughed as you covered Angel's mouth with one of your hands. "Okay, okay! Don't... finish that sentence. I won't let you taint poor little Fat Nuggets ears with your porn language."

Angel snickered as you pulled back your hand. "But you see my point, right?"

"I do," you sighed. "But that's... not really my style. If anything, I think it'd just hurt to see him after something like a casual fling. The idea of him wanting my body, but not me? Yeah no. I'll choose the healthier option of repressing my feelings, thank you very much."

"I'm telling ya, he's into you," Angel groaned. "I've seen the way he is with people he thinks are hot. I've seen him with Val. You're different, toots."

You smile sadly at Angel and put Fat Nuggets down on the bed. It was clear you didn't believe Angel and he was on the verge of ripping out his fur because of it. The two of you were so unbelievably oblivious it was gonna kill him again. "Thanks, Angie but... it's okay. Really, it is."

He sighed and eventually let it go. The two of you talked about other things for a while before Charlie peeked into his room to ask for your help on something. Once you were gone, he rolled over the conversation in his mind as he tried to think of ways to get the ball rolling on your love life.

Angel shook his head with a sigh and pulled out his phone. He scooped up Fat Nuggets and flopped back in his bed as the dialing sound filled the room. The line connected, and he was quick to the point.

"Hey, I know we don't really talk, but I've got an idea."

---

"Really Angie, I don't think this was necessary," You grumbled as you tugged down on the all-too-short skirt of the outfit he'd squeezed you into.

"Oh, but it was and it is," Angel grinned as he took your hand and twirled you in the entry hall to the club. You rolled your eyes and let him spin you in jest. He'd asked you to come with him to one of your old coworkers' birthday parties.

Apparently, one of the rules was to dress like you'd get hired to dance at the club. At least, that had been Angel's excuse when you questioned why he was hovering over you as he did your hair, and makeup and held up several outfits to your body that you doubted would fit.

Despite the discomfort of getting all dolled up, you were happy he'd invited you. It had been a while since you saw your old friends. That being said, it would have been more fun if you weren't tugging down your skirt every two minutes. You weren't the only one hyperaware of how much of your skin was exposed. Nor of the way the fabric hugged your frame tightly. Several of your old friends had suggested you return to the studio with a job in front of the camera instead of in the shadows of the set.

You'd been having a good time, sticking to the corner of the room with some of your old friends to watch the drinks while the rest were out on the dance floor. One of the drunker sinners of the bunch accidentally knocked over some of the drinks while she'd been telling a story about the recent cam show she did. You volunteered to go get more napkins from the bar. One of your friends came with you to reorder the ruined drinks and the two of you had nearly pushed your way through the crowd when you heard a familiar voice call your name through the noise.

Vox didn't have to fight through the crowd the way you had. The second sinners saw the glow of his screen, they were quick to move out of his path. Your friend touched your arm, pulling your attention away from the approaching overlord. They winked at you and told you they had the drink issue handled.

When you turned, you caught Vox's screen flickering from pink to his usual blue. You had never seen any color other than the "You don't get to sleep" blue light, so you assumed it was just a trick of the flashing dance lights above.

"I didn't think you'd be here," you say to break the tension. This wasn't the first time you'd seen him in casual wear, nor was it the first time you'd seen Vox since realizing you had feelings for him. Even so, your heart was beating hard just from the sight of him.

"A-Ah yeah, well," Vox stammered as the music blared through the busy room. "Velvette wanted to drop by. She said something about wanting to check the place out as a potential venue for an upcoming show."

"Just the two of you?" you ask, perking up slightly.

"It was supposed to be," Vox chuckled dryly. His grin was tired and forced as he looked to the side and scanned the room. "Valentino heard we were coming here and tagged along. I don't know why, but Velvette got really heated about it. Something about him fucking up her plans..."

"Oh," your shoulders drop. You cringe internally, wishing you could take back the bitterness in your voice. You hoped it wasn't too obvious, but the way Vox was looking at you like you were some sort of a puzzle told you everything you needed to know.

You actually loved Velevette. She was sassy and cutthroat but had a kind side to her as well. Valentino however... He'd been the source of a lot of suffering for the people you cared about. While the more obvious examples of Angel Dust returning to the hotel looking like shit came to mind, so did the times you had to comfort Vox after being yanked this way and that by the moth emotionally.

That was actually how you'd realized you'd come to care for him as deeply as you do. He'd been standing alone in one of the meeting rooms with a distant look on his face. When you found him and asked him if he was okay, he tried to play it off with his usual bravado, but couldn't. He never cried in front of you, he only vented his frustrations about Valentino and you listened. You sympathized. And eventually, you found yourself wishing you could be the one to treat him better.

Vox opened his mouth to say something, only for Valentino to slip his arm around his shoulder, appearing out of nowhere from the crowd.

"There you are baby," he purred, his fingers immediately slipping under the collar of Vox's vest. You resisted the urge to gag as Valentino took a long puff from his pipe and blew the majority of the smoke in your direction.

"I was wondering where you up and fucked off to," Valentino grinned as he leaned down to nip drunkenly at Vox's shoulder. "You left me all alone with our little fashionista, "Valentino scoffed. "She's in such a bitchy mood."

If it wasn't bad enough that Valentino was practically drooling all over Vox in front of you and pretending you weren't there, insult was only added to injury when Valentino grinned at you with sharp teeth when he called Velvette bitchy.

"Come back and unwind with me," Valentino hummed as he started to kiss up Vox's neck. "Some of my best toys are here tonight. Don't you want to play?"

If Vox had any doubt he was in Hell before, he had every reason to confirm the fact at this moment. He'd fallen out of love with Valentino, but the almost... the almost killed him. To make it worse, he was completely frozen, letting it all happen in front of you. He made no moves to stop Valentino, he made no moves to reciprocate. He simply froze.

Unable to watch any longer as Vox continued to fall for the very same game of tug-o-war he told you he was done with, you bite your lip and turn on your heel. You can't tell if you heard Vox say your name or if it was just a trick of the crowd.

"Anyone else gonna drink this?" You asked as you rejoined your friends still at the table and pointed to one of the more full glasses left on the table. When your friends who were sober enough to answer said you could go for it, you tossed it back in one shot.

You griped to one of your friends who had stayed behind to watch over those too drunk to make good choices. The two of you had been having a damn good venting session about how stupid you felt your feelings were when the entire bar swayed. Your words slurred as your body grew heavy.

One second you were sitting up, wondering why your friend looked so concerned. The next second there was a sharp pain against the temple of your forehead, followed by a heavy thunk, more pain, and darkness.

---

Vox had been desperately searching the dance floor for any sign of you. He'd torn away from Valentino and the moth hadn't bothered to follow. Vox would... handle that another time. For as much as he denied his feelings for you this morning, the second he saw the hurt look in your eyes he knew he had to tell you. There was no way he could ignore the sharp lurch in his chest at the sight of you.

He didn't know what it meant. He couldn't tell if it was just a sense of betrayal after he'd been so open with you about Valentino or if it was something more. Every time he found himself wanting to talk about his true feelings on anything, he wanted to talk to you. Every time he had a rare second alone in the middle of the night, the only touch he craved was yours. Yes, he had a history with Valentino, but he didn't actively want that. He wanted you.

He finally spotted you across the room, sitting at a table with one of the whores he'd seen at Valentino's studio and getting way too close to them for his liking. He made his way through the drunken idiots who were too far gone to notice him, keeping his eyes on you as you started swaying dangerously.

You tried to reach down for something on the table and Vox swore as you lost what little balance you had and fell over. Someone got in his way so he didn't see the impact, but somehow he heard it. Through all the noise he heard the sharp thud and the panicked swearing of the person you were with after.

Vox was suddenly shoving every idiot out of his way, ignoring their shouts as he ran into the small clearing and found you on the ground with blood seeping from your head. He was immediately on his knees, scooping you up as the sinner who'd been with you started freaking out.

The only thing Vox could hear was a high-pitched whine as he pulled you to him and tried to frantically find where you were bleeding from. Half of your head was dripping with blood and he vaguely registered your friend saying your head had hit the edge of the table.

"Just s̴̢̃ḧ̸̺u̸͇͋t̷̯͂ ̷̬̂u̶͖̓p̵̳͗!̶̳͌," Vox snapped as he whipped up and affixed the sinner with a violent glare. He didn't care that half the club was looking at him. For once, he didn't care that he'd made a scene. Logically, he knew something like this couldn't kill you, you were all already dead. But his hands were shaking violently and the buzzing in his head was getting louder because you weren't moving.

Everything around him flashed with bright blue light as he held you close and teleported out of the club without even thinking about it. The two of you reappeared in his room back at the tower and he let out a shaky breath as he placed you down on his bed.

Not knowing what to do, Vox quickly crossed the room and threw his bathroom door open as he searched for anything he could use to stop the bleeding. He was muttering furiously as he nearly ripped the hinges off the cupboard under the sink looking for anything he could use.

Vox let out a loud, angry shout as his body kept glitching. His movements were jerky and he'd hit his head on the sink twice now. Just as he was about to have an absolute meltdown, he heard you groan from his bedroom. His head snapped up and he turned around at the sound of your voice so fast he was surprised he didn't snap his own neck.

Vox yanked a towel off of the wall and scrambled across the nylon tiles as he fell into his room with all the grace of a CEO that he clearly had. He swore, picking himself up and coming over to you as you sat up and clutched your head.

"Shit, that stuff was stronger than I thought," you groaned. "Note to self, don't just chug random alcohol at the club." you tried to laugh, only to hiss as the pain in your head doubled down due to the movement.

"You're a fucking idiot," Vox sighed as he sat down next to you and lifted the towel to your head.

You flinched at the contact, and Vox grabbed your wrist with his free hand. "Stay still," he frowned, pressing again on the wound. "You're still bleeding."

Trying not to do more damage, you stay as still as possible while he tries to stop the bleeding. The silence is heavy between the two of you before you mumble quietly.

"Sorry..."

Vox blinks, frowning down at you. "For what?"

You avoid eye contact the best you can given your current condition and fist your hands on your thighs nervously. "For acting like an idiot. You've told me about how hard it is with Valentino. I should've said or done something and not have gotten..."

"Upset?" Vox finished for you quietly. You flinched, unable to read the tone in his voice. He sighed and slowly lifted the towel from your head, before lowering it. "Why did you?"

"It's stupid," you bite your lip, hand drifting up curiously to see how bad the wound is. Before your fingers could brush against your hair, Vox's hand grabbed your wrists again.

"Try me."

You couldn't say if it was due to the pain, blood loss, or alcohol in your system, but the moment you finally gathered the courage to look him in the eye, you said fuck it. Vox gasped as you surged forward and pressed your lips against his. He'd barely had a chance to process the feeling before you were already turned away from him and rambling some bullshit about how you knew he didn't feel the same.

He took your hand, ignoring the anxious nonsense flowing from your mouth, and lifted it to his lips. Your speech died on your tongue as his lips pressed against the palm of your hand.

"Do you have any idea how much you've been on my mind?" He growled softly, his lips trailing up your arm slowly as he practically worshiped your skin.

If it wasn't for the fact that your blood was still on his hands, Vox would have been so much more rough with you. He would have grabbed you and crashed his lips against yours. He would have torn the fabric that hugged your curves so tightly off of your body and shown you just how badly he'd been needing you.

Instead, he made do with tracing his claw under your chin and guiding you to face him properly. His eyes searched yours for any doubt or sign that you'd acted purely on adrenaline and not something more. When your breath hitched and your cheeks flushed, he knew. As he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, as his arms snaked down and pulled you flush against him like you'd break, as your fingers found a home in his vest he knew.

You wanted him too. You fell for him too. This wasn't a game of "do they, don't they" like the one he'd played with Valentino for so fucking long.

His breath hitched, his arms tightening around you before he slowly pulled back and laughed breathlessly.

"Does this mean we're dating?" you ask, smiling at him like he'd hung the stars in the sky.

"God that sounds cheesy," Vox grimaced. The phrase felt so... high school bullshit. But it wasn't wrong. He wanted that. He really wanted that with you.

He reached down, hesitating before his clawed hand gently covered yours. "But yeah... I guess it does," he smiled softer than you'd ever seen before.

[cc-tens]

Hey, do you happen to have a list of all TCW episodes that have Corries in them? Even if they just appear for a little bit. I want to get a better grasp of what exactly canon tells us about the boys in red. (Side note, if you also have a list of any other Star Wars media with Corries in them that would be amazing)

Hello Anon. So, few things. For starters, I'm going to be basing all listed Corrie appearances based off of all TCW episodes listed on Wookiepeedia's appearance section, so if you end up wanting to just go to episode synopsis I suggest there to start with. Secondly, most Guard appearances are unfortunately really really brief. So for ease, I'm going to add a little key for this list to hopefully make it a bit easier to pick out what you want to check out. (Also! Idk if this is 100% accurate, I did my best though.)

Happy Corrie watching!

Key - Bold titles will be where (from my memory at least) Guard play a moderate - significant role in the episode - 🦊Fox appearances - 🪨Stone appearances - 🌹Thorn appearances - 🖋️Thire appearances - 🐶Hound (and Grizzer) appearances - 👥 Other Guard

Episodes

Season 1 S.1 Ep.1 - "Ambush" - 🖋️ + 👥 - Yoda + 3 Guard troopers are stranded together S.1 Ep.12 - "The Gungan General" - 🪨 + 👥 - Stone, several Guards and Senator Jar Jar Binks are sent on a mission to try and ransom Count Dooku from pirates - Unfortunately this is the first and last Stone appearance we see :( S.1 Ep.22 - "Hostage Crisis" - 🦊+ 👥 - Bane and several bounty hunters are trying to get Ziro the Hutt freed from custody Season 2 S.2 Ep.14 - "Duchess of Mandalore" - 👥 S.2 Ep.22 - "Lethal Trackdown" - 👥 Season 3 S. 3 Ep. 7 - "Assassin" - 👥 S.3 Ep.9 - "Hunt for Ziro" - 🦊+ 👥(flashback appearance) S.3 Ep.10 - "Heroes on Both Sides" - 🦊+ 👥 S.3 Ep.11 - "Pursuit of Peace" - 👥 S.3 Ep.20 - "Citadel Rescue" - 👥 Season 4 S.4 Ep.15 - "Deception" - 🦊+ 👥 S.4 Ep.16 - "Friends and Enemies" - 🦊+ 👥 (flashback appearance/Fox appears in deleted scenes) S.4 Ep.17 - "The Box" - 👥 (flashback appearance) S.4 Ep.18 - "Crisis on Naboo" - 👥 Season 5 S.5 Ep. 17. - "Sabotage" - 👥 S.5 Ep.18 - "The Jedi Who Knew Too Much" - 🦊+ 🐶 + 👥 - After the recent bombing of the Jedi temple, Ahsoka is being chased down by the C.G. - First Hound appearance! S.5 Ep. 19 - "To Catch A Jedi" - 🦊+ 👥 (Fox appearance in flashback) - Idk if I'd say they play a prevalent role in the ep but they do get beat up :( S.5 Ep.20 - "The Wrong Jedi" - 👥 Season 6 S.6 Ep.4 - "Orders" - 🦊+ 👥 - As Fives escapes, the CG are sent to capture him - Probably the episode I feel most people remember relating to the Guard (also the most divisive episode for perceptions of Fox) - Non-guard character death S.6. Ep.6 - "Crisis at The Heart" -🌹+ 👥 - Thorn and other Guard are sent to accompany Padme on Scipio - The second most notable Guard episode I think - Character death Season 7 S.7 Ep.5 - "Gone With a Trace" - 👥 (flashback appearance) S.7 Ep.11 - "Shattered" - 👥 The Bad Batch S.1 Ep.1 - "Aftermath" - 👥 S.1 Ep.3 - "Replacements" - 👥 S.2 Ep.8 - "Truth and Consequence" - 👥

I know there's also several comics that the Guard appear in ("Darth Vader" 2017, #7, #9, #10) have Fox in them - #10 having Fox's character death. Other Guard appearances are in image only or there's mention in audio books or in flashbacks but nothing else particularly significant. Oh! And Thire and a few Guard appear in Episode III - Revenge of the Sith.

Sorry the reply is so late. Hope this helps though!

[burgersnacksformax]

Heavymedic taking care of an age regressed reader :]

Notes:

HeavyMedic canon here, theyre your dads now

DNI if kink !!

Table of contents

How did they find out ?

HeavyMedic parents moment ?

Parent moment part 2

Sleepytime

Playing Doctor

Goodnight Kisses

How did they find out ?

You weren't entirely sure how Heavy found out, but considering how perceptive he could be, it was no surprise. Maybe he overheard you babbling to yourself? Or he saw the way your eyes lit up over childish things?

Regardless, he knew, but he never approached you about it

However, you didn't miss the way he would check in on you more often. He'd ask if you had eaten, if you'd slept alright - things he didn't normally do.

Eventually, you confronted him, told him about your regression. He listened intently, so much so that you almost thought he was judging you. But at the end of your explanation, he gave you a gentle smile and told you he was glad that you trust him.

Next, for Medic, you didn't exactly plan to tell him. You figured you shouldn't talk to Medic so much when regressed, as sometime he tends to be curious to a fault. You worried he might just sit you down and ask questions you didn't want to answer.

But one day you ended up having no choice to talk with him. It was after you got a scrape on your knee, when Scout accidentally played a little too rough with you. He was really sorry, rushing you to the medbay even though it was just a little scrape.

You were a little stressed on the way there, as you realised you'd probably have to pretend to be big.

When you got there, you tried your hardest to hide that you were regressed, but Medic saw right through it. He looked over at Scout, who seemed way too worried for a little scrape.

"Schatz, you are younger now, are you not?"

You were a little taken aback, but you nodded sheepishly

"I see. Well, don't worry about that, your little scrape will be gone in no time."

He was very sweet as he tended to your injury, telling you how everything will be okay and praising you for how you handled it.

You figured that maybe Heavy told him. Those two seemed very close after all, so much so that there was a rumour they were dating!

After this, you weren't nervous to talk to him when regressed, and he'd do his best to entertain your silly conversation starters.

But after his doves started taking a liking to you?

You were really starting to grow on him.

HeavyMedic parents moment?

One night, you were having dinner with the other mercs. Most of them had finished eating or just took their food to eat somewhere else, leaving you at a table alone with Heavy and Medic.

You had something to say, but chose to wait for Medic to finish what he was talking about.

He was talking.

And talking.

And talking.

When eventually, you decided to speak up and get his attention.

"Mom?"

They both turned to you, confused.

You paused, realising what you said, before scrambling to correct yourself.

"MEDIC. Medic. I meant Medic-"

Fortunately, Medic and Heavy seemed to find it rather amusing.

"Yes, mein Täubchen?"

Heavy didnt say anything, but he was smiling.

Parent moment part 2

Another day you were regressed and fumbling as you tried to open a bottle, but it just wouldn't budge !

Medic approached you and gave you a warm smile. "Let Mama help you with that."

You stared at him confused and surprised, but in a good way.

He sorta just held his chin in thought, going, "hmm, ok actually, I'd prefer to be Papa. Wait but- Heavy is already Papa."

You were so confused. "What do you mean, Medic?"

He ended up just coming clean and telling you that he and Heavy had considered a child in the distant future. So if you were ok with it, they'd be happy to take care of you when you were little.

He seemed a little nervous, he was scared you'd say no and he'd just made a fool of himself.

But you were so happy and hugged him !! You told him that, yes, you'd be okay with it !

He was so excited and had to stop himself from immediately running off to tell Heavy.

Anyways Heavy and Medic are your dads now. Later, Medic said that Heavy could be Papa, and he could be Paps!

Sleepytime

One night, you felt all restless. Knowing you needed company, you pondered.

Paps was usually always up late, but it felt like he always had some work or another to do. In that case, he might not be free to give you cuddles.

But Papa ? Maybe he could give you big warm bear cuddles to put you to sleep.

So your little feet took you as far as they would carry you, all the way into Heavy's room. You knocked, not waiting for a response before walking in.

"Papa," you mumbled.

You saw a big Heavy-shaped lump under the covers, and a smaller one beside him.

"Paps?"

You watched as the bigger lump shifted as Heavy sat up a little. He rubbed his eyes as he looked at you, his voice low with grogginess. "You cannot sleep?"

"Mhm." You twiddled your thumbs nervously, realising you forgot to bring your plushie.

Heavy laid back down and shifted backwards a little, so there was space between him and Medic. He patted the empty space. "Come."

Relieved, you eagerly joined them, making yourself comfortable in the warm space between them. You felt yourself sinking into the bed, having your Papa and Paps close helping you feel safe.

From behind you, Medic's warm arm gave you a big hug, as if you were a little sized plushy!

Heavy let you hold onto his hand, as if to make up for the stuffie you left in your room.

Uppies

Sometimes Medic just scoops you up out of nowhere because you're too adorable!

When he carries you, he likes to pick you up with one arm supporting your back, and the other supporting your bum. Like his arms are a chair!

Sometimes his doves come and land on your head and on his shoulders, and now there's a little dove party.

Heavy on the other hand likes to hold you like a baby, with his upper arm supporting the back of your head. He'll rock you a little and its surprisingly calming.

He's perceptive of how you feel, so when you're upset he might just pick you up without a word and start rocking you. He might even sing little songs for you while he's at it.

Both of them are quite strong and could carry you just fine !

Playing Doctor

You were with Medic in the medbay as he worked away at paperwork. The room was silent apart from the sound of pen on paper, as well as the ticking of the clock and occasional noises of his doves.

You peeked over at him. "Paps?"

He continued to scribble away, only sparing you a glance. "Not now, mein Täubchen, Paps is busy."

You pouted, marching away to search for things to do. You watched as Archimedes flew by over your head, before landing on a coathanger. His feet were perched comfortably on Medic's lab coat, almost like he was trying to tell you an idea.

You scurried over to Archimedes, getting on your tippy toes to take the coat off the hanger and putting it on with a giggle. Archimedes landed on your shoulder and cooed at you.

Medic's voice chimed in again from his table, his eyes still locked on the papers. "Ya, Archimedes, keep my little one company until I'm done, ok?"

Archimedes replied by flying over to a drawer on the other side of the room and perching on the handle. Curiously, you followed him and opened it, and you were met with a pouch. With a zip, you opened it up and saw a stethoscope. You glanced over at Medic, figuring he wouldn't mind, before putting the buds in your ear and holding up the diaphragm to Archimedes. You could clearly hear the ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump of his little bird heart, causing you to stare in awe and amazement.

You eventually put the stethoscope back into the bag and closed the drawer, walking around for something else to do. You turned the corner, and your eyes found the medigun.

You ran back to look at Medic. "Paps, can-"

"Ya, alright." He hadn't looked up still.

But you figured, he said yes! You ran back to the medigun, Archimedes following curiously. You carefully tried picking up the medigun, but it was much much heavier than it looked! Medic made it look so light! You wrapped your arms around it, barely managing to lift it up, before tumbling backward !

But your back was not met with cold, hard floor, but it was met with a big and warm arm. The hand took the medigun from you, and without even looking at the person's face, could recognize who it was immediately. "Papa!"

Heavy put the medigun back where it belonged, putting a hand on your back. You realised you must've been very focused to not notice him come in. "Are you ok?"

You nodded. "Mhm."

"Good. Be more careful next time."

Medic's voice called from around the corner. "Heavy?"

"Yes, Doctor." Heavy turned to you, smiling. "You look good in Doctor's coat."

You beamed, puffing your chest out proudly.

"Come, we show Medic."

You both walked over to him, finally managing to get his attention as he gave you a heartfelt grin at the sight of you wearing his coat.

It was clearly way too big for you. He glanced at his papers again, letting out a sigh as he couldn't help himself from getting up so he could pick you up and spin you.

Goodnight Kisses

You were clinging to Heavy like a koala as he tried to put you into bed. "M wanna stay with Papa!"

"Papa is busy," Heavy stated simply, giving you a kiss on the forehead, "you must rest now."

You shook your head and whined, still clinging as he tried to move your arms off of him. "Nooo!"

You heard Medic sigh from behind him, followed by his familiar voice. "Alright, Täubchen-" he moved past Heavy to lay down on the bed with you, "Paps will stay with you."

A huge grin spread on your face as you held onto to him instead. "Paps!"

Heavy chimed in, saying, "Is not good to spoil."

You felt Medic shaking his head. "Ya, I know. But look at the way our little one is clinging!" He stroked your hair lightly. "I don't know, I just.."

Heavy paused, then let out a chuckle. "Maybe a little spoiling is okay." He pulled the covers over you and laid down beside you, with Medic on your other side. He leaned down and gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead, holding onto you reassuringly.

Medic leaned down and kissed your temple, smiling a little when your hair tickled his face. You heard another smooch, knowing Medic must've kissed Heavy!

You bundled up happily under the covers. "Issa smooch party."

Medic let out a laugh. "Yes, I guess it is."

You turned your head to look between the two of them. "Papa and Paps gonna stay till I sleeps?"

"We will," Heavy replied softly.

"Of course, mein Täubchen."

The blankets were especially cozy as you slowly dozed off that night.

[princessmacedon]

In all the chaos of wintry envoys and seekers, Maria nearly forgets about her encounter with the new (probably!) student (maybe?) and his sugar cookie smile. Or, well, that’s not entirely accurate: she remembers him and his brightness and bafflement well, but she does not truly expect to see him again, and most especially not very soon. It’s a big school after all, with a great many classes and many more friends to be made; for him to spend his time searching for a cookie-bearing passerby he met briefly and by chance seems just the sort of thing to be lost in the chaos. 

It’s somewhat of a shame, though. As short as their interaction was, his-- what was it? His demeanor, his energy... his vibes! They had been so warm, like the sort of person who would be a great friend. Even if he forgot about what she’d promised him, she thinks it would be nice if they could meet again someday. 

So lost in thought is she that, when she blinks again, the emptiness of the classroom comes as a shock to her. Left in idleness after her last class of the day, she has no true need to rush, but the start is enough to send her skipping from the room in haste. She keeps the pace, skittering through the hall, until--

‘Hey, you!’

There are many ‘you’s on the academy grounds, and Maria is very rarely one of them. Nevertheless, she draws to a stop, glancing over her shoulder-- and there he is! 

“Oh!” She turns in two short half-steps, waving back at him as he clears the space between (and so quickly, to boot!). A hand darts near to her mouth, laughter seeming to dance upon her fingertips. “Hee hee, wow! You found me!” And that’s good enough, isn’t it? She’d told him to find her ‘secret identity,’ but in truth, she’s just happy he found her at all. But, if he somehow has... she should at least give him the opportunity to announce it! 

Her eyes narrow happily into crescents, mirth tinging her voice. “How have your classes been, new friend? I hope you’ve been alright since then!”

red riding hood's basket || maria + edward

starter for @princessmacedon

The empty cookie pouch lingers on the corner of his desk, kept from falling off by the modest weight of a smooth pebble he found out on a walk. Though he'd been trying for the better part of the week to keep an eye out for the girl who'd graciously welcomed him with a yuletide gift (and one that had saved him so much grief, too, as he never did manage to find the cafeteria that day), it was to no avail. He had no name to go off of, after all, only a face, those bright eyes, and that red, red hair of hers. He's being stubborn about not asking faculty, too, for some reason — It feels like cheating! She seemed so identifiable by vibes alone!

So, he searches. On one hand: Edward's having a lot of fun with this little game, like having a mystery envoy of his own, despite his arrival in the middle of the festivities; But on the other, he'd rather meet a new friend sooner rather than later, yeah? The little bag of apple chips he's planning to give her in return's been burning a hole in his bag for a few days now, and though it's not necessarily a perishable item, he's anxious to get it to her, anyhow.

Her not being in the Golden Deer became obvious pretty quickly, and she didn't have that strange, silvery uniform some other students wore when he saw her. Any time he'd poked his head into other classrooms, he was either quickly shooed out from a class in-session, or got so distracted talking to Leonardo or Micaiah that he forgot to look...

Until he remembered when he was already halfway down the hallway, and the classroom was already all but empty. Darn it!

His attempts thus mostly confined to wandering the hallways and popping into random communal spaces so far (he knows where the cafeteria is, now), Edward's holding fast to hope —

Until that fateful day finally dawns upon him, and he spots that head of red hair across the courtyard, bouncing as the girl runs, that very same gait he saw running towards him some days past. He's sure of it. He'd even bet Caladbolg on it, this time! The boy stops in his tracks on his way to the training grounds, never mind his previous attempts of stopping other red-haired students before (there were so many here, what in the hells), and shouts:

"Hey, you!"

And finally, finally starts running after her with an excited wave, sure to catch up.

[izar-tarazed]

Welcome!

What this is: This blog is mostly dedicated to my Elden Ring OC Izar (and well, her companion Ensha – more about them below). There might also be other content (other games, DnD 5e, writing) unless I’ll feel the need to create specific sideblogs for that (unlikely, I lack the energy).

What I do: I’ll mostly share screenshots, headcanons, storytelling, and writing snippets. (Here's my tag list!) While this is not a pure RP blog I very much enjoy RPing, so feel free to shoot me a prompt/starter whenever you like! (For more information regarding RP, flip through the Stargazer's Cookbook over here!)

Who I am: You can call me Zari. I’m over 30, she/her. Not a native English speaker, so bear with me if I say strange things. Expect occasional ramblings about the glory of freelance life, and know that there is never enough coffee.

Izar Tarazed, Tarnished Astrologer

Izar barely remembers anything from the time before her awakening in the Lands Between – just her name and what she knew of the stars. However, the stars above the Lands Between are different, their lore mostly lost to her, so she gathers stories and bits of information wherever she can.

Her most treasured possessions are her telescope and her map-making tools.

Whenever she gets the chance, Izar will sit and work on her celestial maps, preferably beneath the golden light of grace, trying to figure out constellations and their possible meanings. Working on her maps also calms her down and helps her focus.

She’s often more driven by her astrological curiosity than by the ambition to become Elden Lord – she’ll confront Rennala mainly because she wants access to the library of Raya Lucaria, and Radahn because she wishes to set the stars back in motion.

Izar relies mostly on her sorceries – the Comet and Night Comet are her favorites – and only starts improving her skills with melee weapons and a shield when Ensha insists on teaching her.

Personality

Izar is a little geek when it comes to astrology and will talk about it with neverending enthusiasm. At a new place, its (potential) view of the night sky is usually the first thing she’ll check.

She values the friendships and alliances she makes, being protective of those she cares about; that might be both her greatest strength and her greatest weakness.

Upon meeting someone for the first time, she'll rather be calm and cautious, but much more confident, cheeky and bubbly once she feels comfortable.

The fact that she doesn’t remember who she was before bothers her more than she lets on.

Izar soon realizes that she isn't as ambitious about taking the Elden Throne as she maybe should be. Her true dream is running the Academy of Raya Lucaria and turning it into a welcoming place where knowledge is not hoarded but shared.

When upset, she can be pretty defiant, sarcastic and snappy.

Sir, That’s My Emotional Support Skeleton

Izar spares Ensha’s life when he attacks her at the Roundtable Hold.

This leads to them being sent out on a mission together to track down Latenna (which, of course, doesn’t go as planned). While they start out deeply suspicious of each other, teaming up only reluctantly, they eventually come to trust each other and, despite some challenges, become close friends, which leads to certain tensions considering his loyalty to Sir Gideon.

(I’m not entirely sure what Ensha is, but I’m leaning way more into the headcanons of the somehow animated armor/actual skeleton with some kind of relation to the ancient king mentioned in the description of the Royal Remains set, rather than just being some guy with a skull mask.)

Ensha will often travel with Izar, having her back and finding picturesque dungeon walls to lean against and ponder how on earth this careless astrologer can still be alive. (He's exaggerating, of course. Izar can definitely handle herself ... most of the time.)

Ensha tends to be more wary of others than Izar is. He's extremely perceptive and quite good at reading people (and finding things). He often encourages Izar to put in the work to improve her skills, and be more disciplined about her goals. However, he's also surprisingly fine with engaging in all kinds of mischievous shenanigans with her.

Since Ensha doesn’t speak, their communication process is a little rocky at first but improves once Izar gets better (and eventually good) at understanding his sign language. From then on, they'll often have some partially silent banter going on, and are able to communicate subtly if the situation calls for it.

Izar is also able to sense Ensha's emotions to a certain extent (more on that headcanon here).

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

MICROGRID GENERATOR - This old cylindrical generator waits with its fuel cap open. Makeshift electrical wiring runs out of its side and across the floor.

Pour fuel into the tank.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant assists you, holding the canister up to the fuel tank as you tilt. Dark brown viscous fluid pours out and the room fills with a chemical smell.

Item lost: LUM Fuel canister

MICROGRID GENERATOR - There's a red starter switch on the side of the cylinder and a start rope on the other side -- the lieutenant flicks the switch.

Pull the rope.

MICROGRID GENERATOR - The recoil start wakes the old generator up. The machine sputters like an old war horse before settling down to a rattle.

KIM KITSURAGI - "That should do it."

Task complete: Find fuel for the generator

+10 XP

Oh, right, we had a skill point I forgot. I'm putting into Perception. For lack of anything better to do I'm just trying to get all of the skill colored in now.

FELD "INSULAR" CONSOLE - A dim golden glow animates the console. Faint, like a ghost-light. 'Urgence -- Ouvert!' reads one dial key. 'Allumer', reads another.

KIM KITSURAGI - "It's on..." He smiles. "Turn: Emergency -- Open!"

INTERACING [Medium: Success] - Automatic boot.

3. Push: 'Light (Interior)'.

FELD "INSULAR" CONSOLE - The lighting in the room turns on with a sizzle. A dim, ambient orange.

4. Slide: 'Radio' dial.

FELD "INSULAR" CONSOLE - The dial slides under the dusty glass, dark and silent despite the power being on. You make out defunct stations on the UKV frequency. The words "FELD INSULAR" are written on the band.

2. Turn: 'Emergency -- Open!'

SMALL BLAST DOOR - The blast door opens with a series of clicks. A shaft of light appears, then widens, as the light shines in.

HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - A sudden wave of anxiety makes your skin crawl.

SHIVERS [Legendary: Success] - No, it's more than that. There's something there, waiting.

KIM KITSURAGI - "After you." The lieutenant gestures at the opening.

Task complete: Open the blast door

+10 XP

"Before -- outside. When we were walking across the sand, I felt someone watching me."

"What's there?" (Point to the door.)

"I'm scared."

"Let's go." [Leave.]

KIM KITSURAGI - "So did I. Not back there, but... I've felt it since we came here."

2. "What's there?" (Point to the door.)

KIM KITSURAGI - "I don't know."

SHIVERS [Medium: Success] - A thin wisp of smoke rises from a charred black firepit... the wind picks up, then dies down again.

3. "I'm scared."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Don't be. I have a gun." He takes out his sidearm, checks the barrel, then holsters it again.

4. "I also have a gun."

KIM KITSURAGI - "I know. It was not easy to acquire."

5. "Let's go." [Leave.]

Walk slow. It might be dangerous...

Small white flowers blossom all around you...

A rubber dinghy. It's deflated, broken.

Hope in Work and Joy in Leisure

THE DESERTER - An old man wearing tracksuit trousers leans on the frame stock of his rifle. He gathers a big ball of spit in his mouth...

...then spits it out into the extinguished fire before him. He raises his black eyes, hooded by creased eyelids, to meet yours.

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Medium: Success] - Unclouded by cataracts -- his eyesight is sharp.

EMPATHY [Medium: Success] - He's practically tearing up from spite. Hatred got the best of him a long time ago. This man hates everything.

"Are you the *fire-guy*?"

"You've retained your eyesight."

"Did you close the blast door?"

"Nice gun you got there."

"Sir, I need you to put down that gun so we can talk further. We're with the police." (Proceed.)

"I'm with the police. You can keep the gun, but keep it down. Not *one* move." (Proceed.)

"Sorry for disturbing you. Good bye."

THE DESERTER - "The what now?" He cups his ear. "I can't hear you."

"Did you recently tell two kids to put out their fire? Two twins."

"Nothing."

THE DESERTER - "I may have. All sorts of little rats have come sniffing around, trying to give up the position..."

+5 XP

Level up!

This (final?) level is going into Esprit De Corps.

SAVOIR FAIRE [Medium: Success] - The *position*? Sounds like a hiding place...

THE DESERTER - "Fire-guy..." He shakes his head. "Regressive bourgeoisie henchman. Can't even talk like a grown up."

2. "You've retained your eyesight."

THE DESERTER - "My eyesight?" He clears his throat. "Yes. Helps me see all the shit."

HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - A shudder of disgust passes his right side. His left side remains motionless.

3. "Did you close the blast door?"

THE DESERTER - "I did," he breathes out with a wheeze. "And you opened it -- how?"

"I fuelled the generator. Then used the console."

"How did you know I was coming?"

THE DESERTER - "I should've burned that console down..." He shakes his head.

"How did you know I was coming?"

THE DESERTER - "Reactionary rock-and-roll music." He gestures north. "Playing on the water."

KIM KITSURAGI - "Told you we shouldn't play Sad FM."

"But you didn't say that, Kim."

"It was not rock-and-roll. It was Sad FM!"

"It was not reactionary. It was cool."

Say nothing.

KIM KITSURAGI - "I did."

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - We have entered a world where he said you shouldn't. It is the only world.

2. "It was not rock-and-roll. It was Sad FM!"

THE DESERTER - "Sad FM, huh? I always hated that station. Phlegmatic, counter-revolutionary dirges... Sadness is a mental illness, a weapon of the bourgeoisie."

"The fascists were right about rock-and-roll. It *is* degenerate... Hip-gyrating mental illness music."

4. "Nice gun you got there."

THE DESERTER - "It's not nice, it's a piece of shit." He shrugs. "But it gets the job done."

"Is that a Belle-Magrave?"

"What make of rifle is that, exactly?"

THE DESERTER - "It's a Triangong 4-46."

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Medium: Success] - Southeast Samaran-made. Exotic. Must be defunct too. No modern rifle manufacturer of that name springs to mind.

KIM KITSURAGI - "A Samaran rifle... How did you get hold of one?"

THE DESERTER - "It was sent to us by our brothers in the Hsin-Yao Commune. Military aid." He pats the rifle.

HAND/EYE COORDINATION [Medium: Success]- It has stayed true to him. He can still make it sing.

5. "The Hsin-Yao Commune?"

THE DESERTER - "You heard me. It's good now. Like chalk wiped from the board." His gaze turns inwards.

ENCYCLOPEDIA [Challenging: Success] - He's right. Almost no one remembers there was a third metastasis of the World Revolution, in the Safre Empire, extinguished in '06.

"It's not wiped from the board. *I* remember it."

Let it vanish.

THE DESERTER - "They wouldn't like hearing their name in your mouth. A damn dog..."

RHETORIC [Medium: Success] - The time will come to win his trust, comrade. It is not now. You need to take care of the gun first.

6. "Your weapon has stayed true to you. Mine has stayed true to me too." (Put your hand on your belt.)

THE DESERTER - "Yes, I bet you've killed a lot of people with it..." His eyes narrow. "...you fascist *fuck*."

"Have you come to make me one of them?" His grip on the rifle tightens.

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - His right eye twitches -- with what? Fear? Rage?

KIM KITSURAGI - "We have *come* to ask you questions, nothing more." The lieutenant puts his hand on his holster.

"If you do not comply, we will take you in. Do you understand?"

Another spitball lands in the ashes. That's all the answer he gives.

HALF LIGHT [Medium: Success] - The danger levels here are hard to read. One moment he's a fire, the next -- a fire gone out.

[charliehearted]

who: anyone!

where: the beach

That long, cold winter had made certain chores more difficult than Charlie would have liked. It wasn't like he disliked the responsibilities he had picked up, the same responsibilities that allowed him to remain with the crew that had so rapidly become his family, but the general loss of food, warmth, and general comfort hadn't done much to endear the things that had to be done to the boy responsible for doing them. Cold ocean water didn't make laundry any more enjoyable, and Charlie was rapidly approaching a point where if he had to wash clothes in more cold ocean water, he simply might stop doing the laundry.

Sitting back, resting his hands and allowing his muscles to relax from the pose they'd been in for hours, Charlie sighed, tipping his head back to look at the sky. "I really hate winter laundry," he said to the sky, completely unaware of the person near him. "One day, people will do their own laundry, and I can go back home in good time."

[aceoflilies]

do you have any interesting pokemon hcs or theories? love your writing btw :]

Hi????? Oh my god, I had to stop and check that this wasn't one of my other blogs getting this ask. Thank you so much, I really appreciate the compliment!!

As for my headcanons/theories... most of them are generally character-based, but i have a few I'd be happy to share! (readmore because this gets long ^^")

General headcanons:

All of the Pokémon Leagues in the world vary on strength and community investment. Near the bottom are leagues like Alola's (brand new, little support), Paldea's (made for multiple Champions, one of their leaders double-dips as Elite 4), Kanto's (prolonged, unresolved absence of one Gym Leader, lack of a Champion until your rival), and Unova's (consistent turnover in leaders, champions, and gym locations; only league to canonically be defeated by a Team). From there, Johto, Hoenn, Sinnoh, and Kalos are all relatively similar in "solid league" territory, with Galar's being the most heavily invested-in and supported league in the series.

Humans with psychic powers, medium abilities, special type affinities (think Iris's "understanding the hearts of Dragons", rather than typical gym leaders), or otherwise inexplicable abilities (whatever the Shadow Triad is doing?) tend to have slightly Pokémon-influenced genetics, as ties back to the infamous Japanese Canalave City library entry. This tends to go many generations back, rather than direct. (No, N is not a Zoroark. Could he be distantly related to one? Maybe.)

The average age for gym challenges varies by region. (Our protags do not necessarily hit that average.) Kanto through Sinnoh skew younger, from 10-12 (since they're all geographically in similar areas). Alola is solidly at 11. Unova and Kalos tend to be somewhere from 13-15. Paldea is literally any age, hence the adults in uniforms. Galar trends older, more towards an average of 16. Yes, this makes Leon's refusal to involve you in any situation ever look sillier. (Leon is considered exceptionally young for the challenge at 10, and all of your potential challengers in the Champion Cup look generally in their older teens. Also, I refuse to believe Marnie's wearing a crop top for her League uniform before she's 16.)

"Official" starter Pokémon are endangered species. Professors generally hope that by giving them to young trainers, they'll encourage species awareness and growth.

Battles follow anime rules more than game rules. Terrain advantages, move combinations to create effects, etc. are all a part of battles. The only exception, for the sake of my sanity when creating content, is that fish Pokémon float. And even I'm aware that's not realistic, even if it's funny.

Character headcanons:

The "main" protags in my mind are Red, Ethan, May, Lucas, Hilda, Rosa, Calem, Selene, Gloria, "Akari", and Florian.

In order of public perception from "weird kid" to "popular kid" for protags: Red, Gloria, Lucas, Selene, May, Hilda, Ethan, "Akari", Calem, Rosa, Florian.

None of the members of either the Galar Gang or the Paldea Gang are normal.

Hop is trans. While his being trans is in no way related to Leon, his attempts at proving himself and trying to live up to his brother's example of masculinity are at least a little related.

Bede's time in the orphanage is a result of parental neglect rather than money or being orphaned by definition.

Nemona is not a stalker, JFC. She's just excited to have a friend equally interested in battling as her for once in her goddamn life. She is very touchy, huggy, clingy without realizing it, though.

Penny is very heavily involved in whatever the Pokémon equivalent of Tumblr and AO3 are. She convinces Arven, Nemona, and Florian to watch anime with her on the regular.

[slashly]

@infernaliscor did not ask for a starter

a crack, a booming rip in the air like dry thunder against the impossibly cloudless sky foretells the arrival of a timeless vessel of heroes. a chariot, carrying its champion through thick and thin, war and peace, ferrying the enemy of evil through time itself that he may face it on any battlefield it chose.

a 1973 oldsmobile delta 88 royal.

said chariot crashes fender-first into the earth below, creaking and groaning under the strains of gravity as it falls back into place on its wheels. soon after a man also crashes fender-first into the earth below, creaking and groaning under the strains of gravity as he lays stiff against the unforgiving dirt.

he curses his god, his devils and a few mothers as he slowly rises to his feet. clearly, he's seen better days; his shirt is torn near to ribbons, and bleed, dirt and dried sweat cake his body where whatever ripped his clothing tried to do the same to his flesh. it wouldn't take a perception check to notice that he could use a break.

said break, which he was trying to take, is interrupted when ash locks eyes with the noticeably big, noticeably red person staring at him.

" woah, sssshhhhhii.. " he jumps immediately into a defense posture, hand raised, like he's trying to keep an animal at bay. anyone could tell by the wide-eyed, gawking expression on his face that he's never seen.. whatever it was he was looking at.

" take it easy, big fella, or i'll, ahh.. " he reaches, a few times too many, for something on his back that isn't there, then holds up his other hand, which is fixed with some kind of strange bladed contraption. he knows it as a chainsaw, but it probably looks like the most impractical axe to any onlookers.

" yeah, huh? that's right -- i'm not playin' around, so you just.. stay over there, got it? "

[pokemonbiologyirlthetabletop]

Umbreon (#197)

Umbreon (#197)

Mutabellus umbra

General Information: Umbreon are nocturnal creatures with excellent night vision. When angered, they are known to secrete toxins from their sweat glands into the eyes of their offenders. Their jet-black fur camouflages them in the night, and when they’re about to lunge, their rings are known to glow a faint ominous glow– right before they go for their prey’s throat! Umbreons gain energy from moonlight.

Habitat: It can appear in most any habitat, except the extreme heat or the extreme cold. But it is especially prominent in and around urban environments, especially under the care of humans. They especially like dark places, such as forests or even caves.

Diet: Omnivores who will eat most things that they’re fed. In the wild, they eat fruit, rodents, bugs, and birds.

Conservation Status: Least Concern

Relationship with Humans: Umbreons are immensely popular with humans the world over. While cultural perceptions around dark types may differ, in general Umbreons are seen as loveable and loyal nocturnal companions. Though they do not have many particular characteristics that allow them to specialize in specific fields, they can be found on any workforce team, especially in the Western world. Interestingly, Umbreons are one of the few dark-type Pokémon considered suitable for new trainers, and (by proxy of evolution from Eevee) the one of a handful that features any real prominence amongst starter Pokémon– seeing as how dark-type Pokémon are typically too rowdy or dangerous for beginner trainers to handle.

Umbreon and Lunatone are the mascots for the global corporate conglomerate, Dark Moon. Adorably, the mascots form the company logo, a stylized image of an Umbreon sitting on a Lunatone, designed after the founder’s now deceased partner Pokémon. Dark Moon Corporation is the parent company of a lot of other companies, including: Eclipse Pharmaceuticals, Poke-Bright Food (a very popular and affordable brand, as well as its generic), Dark Moon Technologies, News at Ninetales (popular media outlet), the Full Moon web browser, assorted phone apps, and Dark Moon Cocoa & Coffee, amongst many others. Their research is broad, eclectic, deep-rooted, and spanning the past 50 years. Also known to fund political campaigns. The company’s policy on being eclectic, is that it allows them to have income sources from many aspects of the economy without monopolizing anything in particular (since monopolies receive stricter regulations in this world). They frequently give out research grants to university students and scientists. Likened to real-world corporations, Dark Moon has the same social and economic influence as mega corporations like Nestle, Alphabet/Google, and Coca-Cola. Whether those are good or bad comparisons, is subject to interpretation.

~~~~~~~~

Hey guess what, if you like my stuff, this is my website where you can find other Pokémon I've written on and more information about the game that I’m slowly making! Check it out! I write books sometimes too.

[rclldamage]

Pain was a weakness that left the body. Dyron recited the mantra to himself as he took the bandage to his hand. Each wrap was slow and done with another line whispered to himself. His hands were not injured, not yet at least, but it paid to be prepared. Training yielded different results of which could never be predicted. Once his routine had been completed and his meditation ended, the wandering monk took in the sight of green flora about him and smiled. It was rare that one took in the beauty of the world. He was guilty of that. It was the reason he traveled and learned. One step closer to enlightenment with each worldly experience. His mentor would have been proud of him.

There was a pain that shot up his leg as he stood. An old injury that never properly healed, sat on for too long without movement. He winced, rubbing at the spot until the soreness started to subside into a dull ache that would eventually fade away completely. He moved around the camp, a slow pace, as he checked on the stew that had been warming over the open fire. Only there was movement that distracted him, his eyes darting upward and focused right on Ace among the greenery. Dyron’s gaze danced over the male’s form … noting while the male appeared human, his lower body betrayed him.

“You’re welcome to some food,” Dyson called. He walked around the fire, moving his pack closer to sit down and dip a bowl into the pot. Two filled and one sat aside for the satyr. He hadn’t been sure if the male had tried to move unseen but he wasn’t about to make him feel embarrassed about it. “I’m afraid it’s simply a broth of wild vegetables I found. Enough to give energy,” he continued and pulled out his waterskin, full of rich wine and held it up. “For your thirst if you have one,” he said.

requested starter for @cxncordia. perception check roll: 17

[heartsdefine]

@mindhallow — bg3 au lucy starter call / accepting!

        You've emerged from the wreckage of the Illithid vessel, bruised and shaken but somehow still alive. A quick once-over tells you that no lasting damage has been done, except perhaps to your mission. These are not familiar shores, and though the sun's refraction off the nearby waters is beautiful, there's no telling how far off course you've been set. And then there's that thing they put in your eye...

                                          PERCEPTION CHECK!                                     [ ROLL 1D20: 12 + 5 = 17 ]                                                   SUCCESS!

        “Oh, no. Oh, hecks.” You search the ground around you, spinning once or twice in place and checking back the way you came, but there is no denying what you've lost. You can feel a rising panic, and when you catch sight of someone else moving through the smoky haze, you don't stop to worry about what kind of person they might be. “Excuse me! Hello! Hi!” You approach the stranger, smiling despite the furrow in your brow. “Sorry to disturb you, but—have you seen my head?”