#she just didn't quite fit any of the categories

[gabbiecasso]

Just me and my reflections on Shikatema

I've been weirdly hyperfixated recently on Shikamaru and Temari, and so I reflected a lot just to properly dissect the reasons myself because I initially couldn't really understand why I liked them when I was really young, more so as an adult (and as demi/ace) LOL so imma yap

As a demi, I've always struggled with romance themes. I always subtly feel like my circuits are frying when I watch anything romance or I often just plainly feel indifferent. Thankfully I managed to spot a few patterns by spending a lot of time in my head; one of them is that I prefer romance when it's not under the spotlight (idk I noticed I always prefer the side pairs more than the main pairs in any story HAHA) I guess that was one of the categories that Shikatema falls under.

I spent more than a decade watching/reading Naruto and it was enough time for me to have a close affinity with these characters and love them for creating such a huge impact in my childhood without the heavy emotional flairs that Naruto and the rest of characters put upfront. They ultimately became my two favorite characters in the series because I share the same traits and tendencies as them. It also wasn't a surprise that two of my favorite characters ended up together because their relationship was slowly developed and it didn't come off like shocking news.

Unlike the other pairs in Naruto where it seems to have characters fixating on someone or characters overshadowing the other, Shikatema operate on a level playing field. They're each strong leaders and strategists in their own right, both competent enough to recognize each other's strengths. They don't feel the need to change the other nor prove their worth. They're their own person and it clearly shows early in the series and even as it progresses to Shippuden.

I personally dislike being the center of anyone's attention or constantly feeding someone attention so I gravitate more to people who are deeply more passionate about purpose/duty/service/something more than about me and my presence. Shikatema has that dynamic where their relationship feels more like a partnership than a romance based on dependency. They both have important (political) roles in their own respective villages, and they know their purposes and the weight that they carry very well—which prolly explains why both are self-sufficient, independent, and capable. They both take their duties seriously and you don't see a scene where one craves for the other's attention (it’s funny how actively and arduously they work on their duty while in each other’s presence so you can definitely say they were literally there for (and with) each other as they fulfilled their roles as diplomat escort/advisor and diplomat/royalty)

Another that I value DEEPLY to my core is individuality, and I've always adored how Shikamaru and Temari preserve their individuality while still thriving together. It's one of the main factors why they see each other as equals and why none of them overpowers the other.

Shikamaru, laid-back and often understated, complements Temari’s directness and assertiveness. His relaxed demeanor helps her stay grounded and objective rather than just taunting in combat or in general LMFAO

Meanwhile, Temari, who is confident and comfortable taking charge, gives Shikamaru's abilities more buoyancy—she openly calls out his BS and he welcomes it because he knows how unassuming, and, at times, self-deprecating he can be. He never seeks the spotlight and often downplays his own abilities and it's where Temari's outspokenness fits the bill (this energy is also quite evident in Shikamaru Hiden)

Both characters also challenge gender norms (I'm inclined to believe that their characters' subtle sexism when they were first introduced in the series was part of the writing, there is an active discussion about this somewhere and I genuinely believe it has its purpose) Young Shikamaru yaps about her being too troublesome because she's incessantly outspoken/spunky. Young Temari yaps about him being too emotional because he didn't seem to receive emotional training.

Yet in the long run, Shikamaru's honesty and vulnerability allow Temari to soften up and witness the act of kindness by someone who wears his heart on his sleeve (which was first seen during the Sasuke retrieval arc at the hospital where Shikamaru had an emotional breakdown) and Temari's unwavering strength and energy nudges Shikamaru into action when he might otherwise hesitate (Temari often banters with him to make him commit to his decisions and not spend too much time in his head)

Both characters also have innate leadership. I noticed that one of my main attraction points is leadership (as an act of service girlie) and these two have that strong nature: Shikamaru leads with his introspective nature, while Temari leads with her assertive nature.

It was evident first during the Chunin exams when they were pitted against each other—both read their opponents exceptionally well and they both show a strong sense of battle awareness while keeping their cool and executing their strategies effectively. It's no surprise that Shikamaru was promoted Chunin and Temari was promoted Jonin & Ambassador (it wasn't clear when Temari was promoted, but in the early episodes of Shippuden, she was already a Jonin & Ambassador who frequently visits Konoha) They both learned to grow as leaders who first serve their people before themselves in their respective villages and it stretches further during the war arc where they serve not just people from their respective villages but the entire Alliance.

Both were also Chunin exam proctors, so ain't that great LOL I think it was one of the many factors why I never doubted their parenting (and Shikadai did grew up to be such a fine and disciplined shinobi with a strong moral code) Both did seem to question each other's parenting styles since Temari favors intense training while Shikamaru advocates leisure (which I believe is a great balance) but both parents have fostered Shikadai's agency; allowing him to come up with his own conclusions and decisions based on his critical thinking because both Shikamaru and Temari share the same values in their youth.

In the series, high intensity emotions are almost always present in every relationship but their relationship has a subdued nature—They don't need long stretches of dialogues to understand each other because all they needed was experiences, and a little observation and deduction.

They didn't need to prove their worth to each other (or to anyone honestly) because it's built on deep understanding rather than overt passion. Altho it had a different interpretation in the manga, both characters even agree that marriage is troublesome LOL (but welp)

Last one is that both are strategists. Chess is my sport and puzzles/tactical games that require mental effort has always been my comfort, I guess it's natural for me to gravitate to these two. (I like any strategic characters who also wear their heart on their sleeve)

They also approach strategy differently: Shikamaru’s intellect makes him highly logical and analytical, often relying on foresight to plan for every possible outcome. Temari is a decisive, action-oriented strategist; often has the courage to commit to a decision quickly. She also heavily thinks on the fly to understand an opponent's motive and naturally adapts.

This was again exhibited during the Chunin exams where Shikamaru's strategic skills allowed him to use his environment to his advantage while Temari displayed her adaptability and quick-thinking capabilities to counter Shikamaru's offenses since she's a heavy thinker herself.

Temari may not be as exceptionally creative as Shikamaru but she highly values intel, reason, and logic in order to come up with a counter. This was exactly the reason why her battle with Shikamaru was further stretched; up to the point where Shikamaru exhausted his chakra.

I deeply adore how both characters value planning, precision, and patience in combat while other characters in the story value power, tenacity, and speed. Irl, I value the same set of values as Shikatema in chess/games/puzzles and so I guess it’s no surprise. I get to just admire the intellectual aspect of their relationship where it allows them to not just connect emotionally but also challenge each other mentally in every screen time they had.

Thanks for coming to my yapping thread if you ever made it in the end LOL

[fuckyeahpedropascal]

Pedro boys smoker matrix

Friendly discussion and even fiery debate welcome as always! 🔥

I'm back! In true Cee fashion, this idea attacked me from nowhere and I couldn't stop until I was done. This was so much fun to put together, and I have many thoughts to share under the cut.

• Masterlist •

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Chain smoker

Javier

The OG who makes these sucking on these cancer sticks look sexy AF, he is the only one out of the Pedro boys who deserves this accolade. Whether he's lighting up, talking around a cigarette, staring into space smoking on one - it doesn't matter what he's doing with it, he sells it.

Stress smoker

Tim Rockford, Dave York, Marcus Pike, Maxwell Lord

I wanted to put Tim in the chain smoker category, I'm convinced this stressed detective easily smokes a pack a day, but since we weren't treated to any evidence of his smoking habits, I decided to put him in this one instead. The others are pretty self-explanatory given the nature of their jobs, but can I just say - I would kill for a glimpse of Dave York smoking.

Social smoker

The Thief, Max Phillips, Nico, SNL Charlie

You know these guys wouldn't miss the chance to schmooze, especially over a cigarette.

Weed only

Dieter Bravo, Ezra, Oberyn Martell, Javi Gutierrez

I mean, if they had weed in Westeros, Oberyn would be all over it, it fits right in with his lifestyle. Both Dieter and Javi do recreational drugs in the movies, and Ezra? He gives the vibes that he grows his own weed.

Quit after kids

SNL Meemaw, Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Jack Daniels

Don't @ me, Jack didn't lose his baby and his wife, he had two more kids and is living happily ever after 😭 We saw Joel's reaction to Tommy smoking, and I like to think that Frankie quit smoking and drugs after his baby arrived. And you just know that Meemaw used to smoke cos she's badass.

Never smoked

Din Djarin, Pero Tovar, Edward, Ricky Hauk

Din for obvious reasons of his religion, and Pero because I did some *research* and the movie is set in the early 11th century, which is before tobacco was introduced to Spain or China. But I just know that Pero would be a chain smoker in another life. It's so much fun including the two baby P's in this compilation - I've never watched Buffy or Touched by an Angel, but you can't convince me these two literal angels have ever touched a cigarette.

[linkemon]

Start in your head (Yuri Plisetsky x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

"ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴀʟʟᴇᴛ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛꜱ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅ." ᴍᴀᴋꜱɪᴍ ᴡᴏɪᴛɪᴜʟ

ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: 1. ᴘɪʀᴏᴢʜᴋɪ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʀᴜꜱꜱɪᴀɴ ᴅᴇʟɪᴄᴀᴄʏ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ 2. ꜰᴏᴜᴇᴛᴛᴇ́ ɪꜱ ᴀɴ ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛᴏʀʏ ꜱᴛᴇᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴀ ᴘɪʀᴏᴜᴇᴛᴛᴇ

[Reader] looked around the rink. She had been coming here for a week in a row and these visits promised to be a new, quite interesting tradition. Partly because she enjoyed teasing Yuri on most occasions and it was an interesting new form of an old game. Whenever the boy saw that she came to stare, he immediately gave her the best kind of taunts. The day before yesterday, he even deliberately extended the training to see if the girl would leave. However, he failed to achieve the intended effect and she returned with him chattering all the way.

— What are you doing here again, you idiot?

— Nice to see you too, Plisetsky. — She grinned so widely that Yuri swore her jaw was about to stretch.

It was hard for him to admit it to himself but deep in his heart he was surprised at her behaviour. Most people hated him from the beginning (or didn't want to be friends with him after some time). He weeded out a lot of those individuals who fit into the two categories because he didn't want to associate with them. Apart from his fans and family, with whom he already had problems, he was left with only a small group of people who wanted to see him and whom he allowed to do so. And she was slowly starting to belong to that group.

— I told you not to come. — He started unlacing his skates.

— Nothing new. — She leaned against the board. — Today we're going to town.

— For what reason? — he huffed.

— They opened a Russian food stand near the park and are selling pirozhki.

This was his weak spot. [Reader] knew well how much Yuri appreciated his grandfather's delicacies.

The boy was aware that the taste probably wouldn't be as good as what he usually ate but the thought of a warm buns after training almost made his mouth water.

— Okay, let's go. — They better be edible, though — he muttered.

The walk to the park consisted mainly of [Reader's] monologue but it was nothing new. Since the ballerina arrived with Lilia Baranovskaya, he managed to say goodbye to silence for long moments.

—... and then I do a pirouette, and she says... — she stopped abruptly. — Wait a second!

The skater was about to comment on how he wouldn't freeze like a fool on the street in sub-zero temperatures when he saw where the girl had turned.

— Who is sweet and charming? Who is? You are!

[Reader] was just lifting an adorable, furry, ginger ball into the air. The kitten snuggled into her shoulder, clearly craving warmth.

At the same time, his second, less trusting companion appeared around the corner and, after sniffing the girl's shoes, he gave up her company in favour of Plistesky.

He looked a bit like Potya, so he started stroking his fluffy head without hesitation. He already missed his pet.

— I don't think they're strays — [Reader] said, examining the collar that should have a contact address on it.

Before she could add anything, a young couple with a child turned from the main street into an alley.

A little girl who was missing several baby teeth stopped shedding tears as soon as she found the kittens. As if on cue, both of them obediently jumped from the teenagers' arms and wandered over to her.

She mumbled a thank you, which her parents told her to repeat, and then disappeared.

— It's a pity. — [Reader] glanced at her now empty hands.

— It's not a pity. They found the owners.

— I know but still... — An unfinished thought hung in the air.

Without any further obstacles, they finally managed to reach the booth. The girl had to admit that it looked quite pretty in the pastel colors of the Russian flag, lit by a row of light bulbs.

While standing in line, she managed to argue with Yuri three times. The customers closest to them looked at them strangely and parents covered their children's ears. And when they reached the ordering stage, she was afraid that the seller simply wouldn't serve the two of them because his murderous look indicated exactly that. However, nothing like that happened and she received her pirozhki.

The girl sniffed it, and then reluctantly bit into her portion.

— Wow, it's sooo good! — She looked at the filling, trying to guess the composition of the it in the dim light of the lamps.

— Tch — he snorted. — My grandfather makes better ones — he said but he ate the rest of his portion.

After this trip, it turned out that it was the first but not the last.

[Reader] liked Russian food so much that she dragged the boy to the booth every day, ordering new delicacies.

The system added a new item to the menu every day and worked quite efficiently. When they were halfway through the list, one fateful afternoon occurred.

It was starting to get dark. The boy's training was almost over and the girl still hadn't shown up at the ice rink. Baranovskaya stood by the board, which never happened at this time. As usual, she was accompanied by a careful look and a frown.

Yuri drove towards her in a fluid movement.

— Was [Reader] here?

The question, short and to the point, required the same type of answer.

— NO.

— If she does show up, tell her to come to me. It's true that she took second place and she can do better but for God's sake! Instant break down? We have to fill out these papers and she disappears right after the competition. — She waved the stack of papers angrily and walked away.

The skater had no desire to return to training. He left the rink, wondering if [Reader] had told him anything about the ballet competition. However, he came to the conclusion that despite letting some information out through the other ear, he would still remember something so important.

It was hard for him to admit it to himself but the ballet mistress's words and tone worried him.

He searched the Internet for recent news. The photo in a recently published article showed the lucky winner of the gold medal. However, it was not [Reader]. He managed to find an amateur video showing the performance of the girl and her competitors.

He called her once but only silence answered on the phone.

With quiet hope in his heart, he decided to go to the park. It was a bull's-eye. It's true that the girl, although she didn't choose their usual bench, didn't really hide. Her cheeks and nose were pink from the frost, and delicate snowflakes settled on her hair. Moreover, she was bathed in the dull light of the park lamps. She would have looked beautiful if the image hadn't been spoiled by her red eyes from crying. [Reader] held the unfinished pirozhki in her hand, her eyes fixed on the dead center. She only broke out of her trance when she saw familiar shoes and their owner a few meters in front of her.

— What are you doing here, idiot? Baranovskaya is looking for you — he huffed.

— Then call her and tell her I'm here — she replied in a flat voice.

Yuri was speechless. The girl had never seemed so emotionless to him.

— I won't handle things for you, call her yourself — he provoked again.

— I'm not going anywhere. — She shrugged. — Nothing will happen if I don't sign these papers. I want to quit.

— What exactly? — He frowned.

— Ballet. — She bit into her food. — I've spent a lot of time here today thinking about it, and I think it's a pretty good idea. No more training and competitions. I will finally be able to return to normal school. Plus, seeing family every day sounds good too. I won't have to spend half my life abroad. By the way, you're a damn hypocrite. You kept saying that I was dragging you here by force and now you came of your own free will.

This was too much for the boy. Her condition, so different from what he had been accustomed to over the past weeks, was getting on his nerves. He couldn't deal with it.

— Have you gone completely crazy? — He asked in the coldest tone [Reader] had ever heard from him.

Yuri pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed, and then sat down on the bench next to her.

— I saw both performances online. You may be on a similar level but you are better than her. Just look at your fouetté at the end. Those damn judges must have been blind when they gave you half a point less.

The girl raised her head to look at his face. She had rarely seen him talk about something with such conviction. She was ashamed to admit it but she didn't suspect Yuri of ever being able to give anyone a compliment. For that reason, however, this one had a stronger effect on her than most she had heard about her dancing before.

The Yuri's green eyes seemed sincere. The decision she had made that afternoon now seemed to her like a less than fantastic vision, driven by the impulse of failure.

— I'm grateful but...

— If you think I'm just saying this because I want to comfort you, then...

— That's not what I meant — she quickly denied. — I appreciate what you said but I still need to think about whether I want to enter the next competition. Go back and tell Lilia not to worry.

— But if you do, just know that at the next competition I'm going to sit in the audience and watch you beat the crap out of all of them and...

— Yuri!

The boy rolled his eyes and stood up from the bench. [Reader] did one of the most spontaneous things she had ever done. She ran to him and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

— Thank you again — she whispered and returned to her seat.

The Russian smiled to himself, feeling a feeling of warmth spread throughout his body.

That night neither of them could sleep.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Clueless

Casey Novak x autistic fem!reader Warnings: N/A Word Count: 1,075

Your makeup bag sat on the counter as you dabbed on foundation in the dusty ballpark bathroom. You didn't used to be a makeup person, but a new job in a professional setting had changed your tune. Now you wore it almost every day, except when you were playing softball, of course.

Your thighs were burning from an hour and a half of playing catcher, and you knew you'd need an extra bit of green-tinged concealer to negate the raging red in your cheeks. You'd changed out of your dirty shorts and tank top and into a baggy pair of pink trousers and a band t-shirt. You were just starting on your eyebrows when Casey emerged from the stall behind you and moved forward to wash her hands.

You'd only lived in the city for a few months, but you'd already made several friends, thanks to the local LGBTQ+ softball league. Casey was probably the one you were closest to so far. You often went out for lunch or drinks after your Sunday games.

"You look good," Casey said, eyeing you. "Like really good."

"Thanks!" you chirped, brushing mascara on your eyelashes. "You too!"

Casey did look good in her light high-rise jeans and tank top. But, then, Casey always looked good. She looked stunning. You'd been deeply awkward around her at first; she was so pretty you often stumbled over your words in her presence. But after you'd hung out a few times—and convinced yourself that she was way out of your league and, therefore, solid friend material—you'd found your stride, able to be your awkward, quirky self.

Unbeknownst to you, your awkward, quirky self had Casey in an absolute chokehold. Casey had dated a lot of women and, fair or not, she often found herself categorizing them. As soon as they fit somewhere, she got bored. It was her job to predict people, but she didn't like to be able to do it in her relationships. She wanted someone who didn't fit in any of the categories. And you. You didn't quite fit anywhere. Soft and strong. Masculine and feminine. Serious and smart with a wickedly sharp of sense of humor. Awkward in a way that somehow made you cool at the same time. Every new thing she learned about you—and there was a lot to learn—made her like you more. The only problem was that you didn't seem to be getting the hint. Or maybe you were, and you just weren't interested.

"What are you doing after this?" Casey asked, pulling out her own makeup bag and trying to sound uninterested.

"Going out with Emmy and Tom," you said, smearing on a little blush—you'd overdone it on the concealer. "To that place with all the frozen margs. I can't remember what it's called."

"With Emmy and Tom," Casey repeated, trying not to sound as jealous as she was.

"Mmhm," you said, dabbing your lipstick with a bit of paper towel. You threw it away and turned to Casey, leaning on the bathroom counter. "You want to come? I'm sure they'd love for you to join."

"I was thinking," Casey replied, "that me and you could do something."

"Well, yeah, sure," you said, twirling your fingers next to your ear—you didn't know it, but it was Casey's favorite of your stims. "Obviously, I can't today because of, you know, Emmy and Tom, but we could grab coffee or something later this week?"

Casey stared at you so intensely that you had to look away; you didn't do well with prolonged eye contact. "Promise me you'll look this nice?" she teased.

"Please," you said, shrugging your shoulders and throwing your makeup bag into your backpack. "I always look this nice. Well," you faltered. "When I'm not feeling lazy, that is. Which..."

Casey laughed and ran a hand through her hair. "Damn," she said. "You are so clueless, you know that?"

Your face flushed, and you worried that you'd missed a social cue. Maybe an important one. Your brain raced backwards through the conversation, trying to figure out where you'd messed up.

"Y/N," she said, leaning down so her eyes were level with yours. She was so close you could smell the perfume on her neck—something woodsy and intoxicating. "When I say you look nice, I mean it in a gay way, not in a friends way."

Your stomach flipped. "Oh," you said quietly.

"When I say we should do something just us, I mean I want to take you out on a date. I'd like to kiss you. And I'd like to take you home after, if you're up for it."

You were, quite literally, stunned into silence. You had never had a girlfriend, never even had anyone interested in you. And because you were comfortable on your own, you were perfectly fine with that. But a girl could dream, right? And here was an absolute dream of a woman who said she wanted you. You hadn't even tried to be cool around her, so sure were you that you'd never have a chance.

Casey's confidence was waning the longer the silence went on. "I mean, if you're not interested, that's okay. Just say the word, and I'll back off."

"No, no!" you exclaimed, working yourself up to meet her eyes. "I'm definitely, definitely interested. I would love to do something just us. But, uh, still not today because Emmy and Tom."

"—Emmy and Tom," Casey's voice overlapped with yours. She tried and failed to hide a ridiculously big smile. "How about Friday?"

"Sure!" you said. "Sure, I can't wait!" You knew your stims betrayed a little more of your emotion than you'd like, but you couldn't help yourself, eyes pinching shut and fingers shaking frantically next to your ears. You felt your cheeks growing red in embarassment.

"Great! I'll call you," Casey finished, throwing her softball bag over her shoulder. "By the way," she said as she walked by you, your hands still twitching at the side of your head. "You're really cute when you do that." You blinked in surprise. Casey planted a quick kiss on your cheek before walking out, letting the bathroom door swing shut behind her.

You waited a beat before meeting your own eyes in the mirror and grinning like a lunatic. "Holy shit!" you squeaked. "Holy shit!" You fist pumped the air a few times before stimming your fingers and eyes again, a little less self-consciously this time. You took a deep breath to calm yourself and walked out the door, knowing it would be torture not to tell Emmy and Tom and maybe everyone you knew about your date with Casey. But you didn't want to jinx it. Not when someone like Casey Novak was on the line.

[changingplumbob]

Glenn had a good sleep his first night, like his body was relaxing into the surroundings. When he woke up the sun was shining and after going for a quick run and showering he headed to another spellcaster's house. He had meant to visit Harmony yesterday but Drusilla had kept him too busy. Practicing his smile, he knocked on the door of the house she and Koko shared. He stood for a minute before hearing the sound of it unlocking and took that as his cue to go in.

Glenn: Good morning

Koko: Morning. Harmony this is Glenn, I met him last night during a gap in my meditation

Harmony: Nice to meet you Glenn. Are you getting settled back alright?

Glenn: For sure, I did miss all my plants when I was gone

Harmony: *chuckles* I know exactly what you mean, they're like my kids. I'd hate to be parted from some of my favourites

Glenn: You're in to gardening?

Harmony: I enjoy nature. I'm not a massive academic on plants though, I just have a few favourites. I enjoy water based magic, not as much as Marisol obviously, but enjoy using all the elements together

Glenn: So your powers are like Jackson and Coleman

Harmony: Not quite. They mainly deal with the transfer of heat, I work all elements and make new ones

Glenn: New ones?

Harmony: I have a gift for conjuring

Glenn: Like Carmine then?

Koko: Harmony is more powerful than her

Harmony: I'm just older and have been at this longer. Carmine transfigures, she takes what is there and changes its form. Similar to how Gillian changes her form. Conjuring is different

Glenn: I thought they were the same

Harmony: Not quite. Conjuring is crafting something from nothingness. The creation of matter rather than the manipulation of it

Glenn: I mean... is that even possible

Harmony: I've conjured a lot and I assure you, it's possible

Koko: It's just your science brain telling you it's impossible

Glenn: I said I don't follow science much anyway

Harmony: But you like plants, yes? There is science in that. Ph of soil, grafting of different types-

Koko: How much light they should get, that's super important

Glenn: I suppose. I just didn't think it was that technical since I understand it so easily

Harmony: Lesson one Glenn, never downplay your talents

Koko: Others will do that all by themselves, it's best not to help them

Glenn: Well... I guess I do have one good trick

Harmony: Care to share?

Glenn: Well, I can tell what a flower is going to be

Koko: Like what species

Glenn: That sure, that's easy if I've seen the type of plant before. But I mean like when the flowers are starting to bud, I can tell what colour they'll be when they flower, even if I'm not sure what type of flower they are

Harmony: Oh now that's pretty cool. See, we'll have you shouting about your talents in no time

Glenn: I'm normally pretty good at showing off. The whole bc experience just shook me a bit I think but I want to get back to who I am

Harmony: Sounds fair. First time I got my heart broken I was awful company for months, it really stifled my practicing

Glenn: Practicing! I almost forgot that's why I'm here. Phoebus wanted me to check in with you for any magic tips. He said you're the best at untamed stuff

Harmony: Untamed is just a category for stuff people can't fully comprehend but sure. I might be able to teach you to conjure small things, or umm... you enjoy plants, can you move the earth?

Glenn: Move the earth?

Koko: Earthquakes *makes rumbling noises*

Glenn: I don't know about earthquakes

Harmony: There are smaller applications. Scooping dirt and moving it with magic rather than your hands. Being able to tell what bugs are in the soil, that kind of thing might be helpful

Glenn: For sure. Oh, do you reckon I could cast a barrier to keep aphids off the plants

Harmony: Probably but with such small creatures it requires a lot of finesse

Glenn: I'm good at finesse

Harmony: Okay. Well I'm often busy with my own studies in conjuring but I'm sure I could fit in some tutoring once or twice a week

Glenn: That would be amazing

Koko: Oh if you're wanting to learn more everyday type of magic you should talk to Elise

Harmony: Oh absolutely! She's right next door, gems are her thing

Glenn: Alright. Well thanks for the chat

Harmony: Any time Glenn, good luck with that confidence building

Koko: And happy dreams

Previous ... Next

[shinyrhinestones]

Two doors down

Summary: Reader has had a bad day, and tries to cheer herself up by going to a party she has been invited to, where she ends up meeting a cute boy. (Yes, it’s based on the Dolly Parton song). Reader doesn’t work at the BAU.

Pairing: Spencer Reid X Fem!Reader

Category: Oneshot

Genre: Fluff and smut.

Warnings: Alcohol, partying, kissing, Reader has quite long hair, Reader is studying to become an archaeologist, but Reader is about the same age as Spencer. Smut, soft intercourse, petting, protected intercourse, making-out.

This is my first time writing a little more explicit so it might not be that good…

Also English isn’t my mother tongue, so there will probably be some mistakes.

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Bad days happen, and that's okay. But they definitely don't make the targeted person feel very good. I guess, it's only a bad day if you let it be. But honestly today had just been straight up a horrible day, and I wasn't sure if any of that could be saved. The day wasn't over yet, but still, it felt like alot to make up for. First of all, the weather had been horrible. It was raining heavily. Thunder coming every now and then giving me a shock, because of how loud it is. Everything had been so irritating today. My sleeves kept getting stuck onto doorhandles, kept dropping things and my hair wouldn't cooperate with me.

The rain drops had felt like sharp diamant pieces falling onto my skin and hair. I had let out a deep sigh entering the warm building of my school. But it was the most uncomfortable feeling in the world sitting on those unbearable chairs in my school, and just walking around in general with completely wet and soaked socks and pants. And my long hair dripping onto the floor. My classmates had been obnoxious. Maybe I just felt that way, because I was already in a bad mood and on edge.

I had completely forgotten about the whole party my friend, Elle was having. Work had been taking up my whole mind that day, that when I looked at my calender I almost had a heart attack. Luckily, I didn't need to worry about the weather and having to find a way of transportation in it, because Elle lived just two doors down from my apartment.

I didn't know what to wear or if what I wanted to wear was even clean. So I decided to worry about that later, and jumped into the shower. One thing at a time.

The warm shower, helped with relaxing and clearing my mind. Also, that meant my hair could sit better, than it had the whole day. I found some clothes that fit a party, like the one I was going to. It wasn't going to be anything wild, but just a gathering with some music and games. I never really went to wild parties anyways.

-

Music was playing at a fitting volume, with people chatting and some playing games like limbo. It was entertaining watching how low people could get until it was just impossible, unless you wanted to break a bone. I was watching some of them, smiling and laughing at it. I did feel a little tired, rubbing my eyes here and then, but I found the athmospehere of my friends apartment too comforting to leave. Also, I didn't want to just show up and then quickly scram from the whole event. Unless, I had a good exuse, and I didn't. So I was sitting there on her black couch, leaning an elbow on my leg and resting my head on my fist. I had a can of beer infront of me, but I had only taken like one sip from it. I really wasn't in the mood for getting drunk or being hungover. I felt the weight on the couch shift when a young man sat next to me. I looked over shortly to see who it was, and to my surprise I didn't recognize him. I knew everyone else at the party, except for him. I straigthened my posture a bit, studied his side profile as he looked at the limbo that was happening. He had a sharp jawline, cute button nose and dark hair. Hair that wasn't to short nor was it too long. "Hi"I softly said. The man turned to me, with raised eyebrows and curious eyes. I already loved staring into those brown doe eyes. "Hi" He replied. A small vague smile formed on my face, and I could see one on his face too. "I'm Y/N" I said, and studied his face further.

"I'm Spencer" He said like he had been holding a long breath. He nodded a little at me, as his way of greeting me, and I must've mirrored his gesture. "How do you know Elle?" I asked, and started fidgeting with the can. The can had gone warm, after just sitting on the coffee table for so long. "I work with her. We're really good friends from work" His lips went into a straight line alot of the time, and I couldn't stop staring at them. They were pink and looked so kissable.

Elle had recently gotten the opening at the BAU as a profiler. Maybe that was why she held this little party, to celebrate in a way. I'm not sure. She didn't say so. I looked over at Elle, who was already eyeing me and Spencer. She smiled at me, and then looked back at the game she was occupied with.

"At the BAU?" I asked, knowing the answer already. But it was just to hear more from that pretty mouth of his. He nodded. "Yes, we work as profilers." He said a little low, like he didn't actually want me to hear him. I felt a warm feeling spreading through my chest, just by looking at him. His own fingers were fidgeting, and he looked around alot. Behind me, infront of himself and only managed eye contact for a few seconds. He tucked his hair behind his ears, and I really wanted to touch it myself. Run my fingers through his dark hair and feel the hopefully soft and nice feeling. I could only imagine it being delicate.

"How do you know her?" He wondered. "I met Elle, when I moved here. I wanted to see if law enforcement was for me, and during my search for maybe my law enforcement education I met Elle. She worked with sex crimes." He smiled the whole time I was trying to find the right words, for my explanation. He nodded along the whole time. "So did you choose law enforcement?" He asked. "No. It felt like there was other great stuff out there for me. I think law enforcement would've been fun, but I feel like there was just more fun stuff out there" I tried to explain my best, but I was truly nervous around this beautiful man. Everytime I meet a handsome man, I find it hard to not be anxious just a little. I bounced my leg up and down, looking around the apartment. The window had been opened to probably ease the smell of alcohol. A cold breeze was lingering in the apartment. Cars were driving by and stars were shining down onto earth. "So what do you do?" "I am studying. I want to become an archaeologist."

Spencer had seemed very intrigued by my interest in history, and talked to me almost all evening about facts and stories including the past. I listened to him, finding it cute the way he was talking and rambling. And honestly, I was happy to have met someone who was interested in something I was. After alot of talking, people were moving over to the living room to rest, and sat down around where me and Spencer had been sitting.

"Hey, do you want to maybe go somewhere more private? A lot of people are moving over here. We could talk about it more, if we just moved." I leaned in close to Spencer, so only he could hear me. My voice was almost a whisper. Spencer felt my breath on him, which only made his fluttering heart go wilder.

He'd been feeling so lucky to have been able to keep a conversation with a stranger, and that that person made him feel that special and rare feeling inside.

"Oh..yeah- uhm..sure" He looked down, not being able to look at me anymore. I could see a small blush being painted onto his pretty cheeks. I stood up, and waited for him to follow my lead.

I stopped walking for a moment to talk to him shortly. "We could just go to my place, it's in the same building"

Spencer had agreed with a shy: Yes. And a nod.

-

Elle had given me a funny look, when I told I was leaving as Spencer did too.

But it didn’t really matter what Elle was thinking because I was now in my own apartment with a guy who was very attractive both physically and personally.

He was shy, kind, clever, sweet and understanding. He seemed to actually listen and be interested in what I was saying. I did go to school with a bunch of people who are also interested in it, but none of those people made me feel the way Spencer did. He had a soft nature to him, and it was almost like I could see the goodness ray and shine around him.

“You have a nice place.” He complimented. I wasn’t sure if he felt obligated to say that, but I appreciated the kindness.

“Thank you.” I replied, and sat down on my couch. “You can look around if you want” I’m not sure why I said that, to a man who I just had met, but it slipped.

He looked through some of the books I read, and kept going on these ramblings about facts and whatnot about what these books reminded him of. And I just sat there and listened with a soft smile, and probably pink cheeks.

He sat down next to me, and a small silence filled. He didn’t really look at me, when he sat down. But at one moment he did, and that’s when my I didn’t even think before I acted. I kissed him, and brought my hands up to his face. I let my hands caress his cheeks, and up to his hair. I felt his own hands wrap around my body holding me closer than before. His lips were so soft. I could feel every single butterfly basking it’s wings in my belly.

At one point we had to pull away for air.

We just looked at each other. In to the others eyes, studying them. I know, I could look into his pretty ones for an eternity. I tilted my head while looking at him. My arms rested around his neck, and his were still around me. They were careful and gentle. His hands were large and honestly so beautiful.

Then I kissed him again. I swear I could see the almost hypnotized look in his eyes, and the way his breath got caught in his throat. But he melted into the kiss, just like his body did. I couldn’t keep my hands away from his hair. He started to lay his body on top of mine, which I was only happy to experience. Feeling his weight on me, but of course he didn’t lay all of his weight on me. But it still felt nice to have him so close.

As we laid there just kissing and letting our hands wander on each other, we both got more into it.

So I asked him. Carefully though. I really didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but I wouldn’t know if he wanted to if I didn’t ask. He seemed completely hypnotized in some way. He mumbled a yes, and I had pushed him off me to sit up on the couch both of us. I think that had scared him. That he had done something wrong, but that was not my intention at all. I just wanted to ask him about his boundaries and what he likes, and then I told him my own aswell. I’ve always found it important to know each others boundrasies and no-go’s in order to have a good time together.

I normally wouldn’t really have gone this far with someone I’ve only known for a few hours.

I guess, the reason why I did it was because I had had a bad day and just needed something to relieve all of my tension and frustration.

I remember holding his hand and guiding him to my bedroom, with him following me like a puppy in a crowd.

The light in my room wasn’t too bright because I just turned on the bedside lamp. I went over to close the door, and when I turned around Spencer was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for me. I decided to just lay down on the bed guiding him on me.

He started kissing down my neck and went down to my collarbone. His hands slid under my blouse, and caressed the skin under. I had reached for the buttons on his shirt and started unbuttoning them. I immediately let my hands roam over the already exposed skin on his chest. We didn’t even break the kiss, while we snuck our hands under each others clothing.

But at one point we had to break the kiss to get off each others clothing completely. Being intimate with Spencer was a time worth remembering. He was a lover who really cared.

We were both bare at this point. He had taken my shirt off and didn’t even throw it. He just let it fall from his grip onto the edge of the bed, not even looking where it landed. He kissed down my neck and down my collarbone. I sighed, and my hands ran through his dark hair. His hands slowly and carefully brushed down my belly, and right when he was to touch my most sensitive spot, he looked up at me.

His brown puppy dog eyes looked up at me through his eyelashes. “Can I?” His voice was low and comforting in a way. “Yes” I looked back at him with a subtle smile, resting my weight on my elbows. He ghosted his middle finger above my already wet folds. He didn’t put any pressure yet. He kissed my belly and kissed down my hips, and then let lingering kisses on my inner thighs. I closed my eyes, enjoying the gentleness from a man like him.

I opened my eyes again, looking at how pretty he was exploring me. He caressed one of my thighs with one of his large hands. His other hand softly sliding through my folds, before hus middle finger ended upon my clit. He started to rub his finger against it in circles. I started panting just a little, my breath getting heavier. I let out a barely audible whine, but because it was quiet in my quite small flat, and it was just me and him, he heard it.

I reached for a condom in drawer of my nightstand.

“Could you wear protection?” I asked so I wasn’t just doing stuff without being thoughtful.

He noddded. “Oh- No, yes of course”

I remember how his eyes were observing my figure. He looked completely star struck. I probably had the same look on my face. It was rare for me to see a man who was handsome, cute and beautiful but Spencer was definitely all of those. His eyes were a mix of brown and green, shining with admiration. His hair framed his face perfectly even though it was messy, and all over the place.

My finger traced down his nose. I opened the condom and let the wrapper be on the bedside table.

He had been hard ever since I guided him on top of me. He was holding himself up with his hands on the sides of me. I put it on him, and held him closer to me right when I got it on him.

I kissed him and he immediately kissed back. His thumbs were sliding up the sides of my waist and I slowly guided him towards my entrance. I sighed, and held my arms around him, caressing every now and then. Before I let him enter I reached my hand down to wrap my hand around him, and letting it stroke a few times. His eyes fluttered, and he let out a short moan. Hearing him moan like that, made me a little impatient. It only made me want more of him. I kissed his jawline and then left kisses on his throat, holding him closer to reach him.

I then guided him towards my entrance letting him enter this time. I took in a breath, feeling him like this was a little surreal. This man was so sweet, and here I was being this intimate with him. Spencer let out soft moan, and kissed him on my lips. He didn’t move, until I let one hand reach his lower back and told him to.

“Move Spencer” I whispered against his delicate skin. I whined when he started to move at a steady pace. I knew he was trying to hold in his own sounds. I saw him biting his bottom lip, and how he only let out small huffs every now and then.

“I wanna hear you, Spencer” I said in between breaths. Everytime he hit a spot that really felt good I let out a real moan. But it wasn’t that loud. Not that it didn’t feel good, but normally I’m not that loud. Whenever someone would be moaning with their chest I knew they were faking it. Its supposed to come from the down in the stomach, where the pleasure shoots up. He hid his face in the crook of my neck, before he finally let himself relax and let sounds and noises go.

I closed my eyes, and held him as close as I could. “Hold me” I muttered and he immediately obeyed. His long arms and large hands held me securely but gently in his grip. His chest close to mine.

I’m not really sure how much time had passed, but I guess that doesn’t really matter. All that matters is that it felt good. He was doing it just right, hitting the right spot inside of me. I was panting much heavier now along with Spencer. I felt it building up in my stomach. “I’m almost there” I said almost breathless. “Spencer” I barely whined. His lips parted a little his eyes studying me before he let out: “Oh god” I felt his thrusts getting more slow, but it still added onto the heavenly feeling. My body tensed. I held onto him for dear life, letting out a choked moan. He started leaving butterfly kisses on my jawline, before he let more lingering kisses on my neck. My back arched a little, and my head leaned into his touch.

Shortly after I felt himself let go. I heard his low moan, and felt his body almost collapse on me. His body was sweaty and his eyes closed in a moment of bliss. I relaxed in his embrace and let myself rest against my bed. I let out a final sigh and Spencer smiled at the sight of me. I saw his soft smile at me, when my eyelids fluttered open. A breathy giggle came out of me, and I caressed his cheeks, as he leaned his face into my hands. He crawled next to me and sat up. I admired his figure, before I got up myself to get cleaned up just like him.

Even though the day had started badly it ended up becoming a good day. Or atleast a better day.

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[sapphicdib]

"i could gush about my sig headcanons all day but auuughvjgghh". You know what, do it. I dare you. After that sleepy iterators post I'm itching for more headcanons to ponder.

SORRY THIS IS RLLY LATE, IVE BEEN WORKING A LOT

THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME HAVE AN EXCUSE TO HAVE A CATEGORY 10 AUTISM MOMENT ON THE DASH. this is legit about to be a better essay than anything ive ever turned in for university so strap in, obv everything is gonna be under the cut bc this is prolly gonna be long as fuck

Okay! My main headcanons for Sig are:

He uses he/she/it pronouns, but mainly he/she!

He's a bioengineering dork.

She's a specialized medical facility!

She doesn't really care much about the great problem, and thus has a lot of hobbies. He knitted her own scarf!

She has a lot of friends, even outside of the local group. He's incredibly close with Chasing Wind.

He's a mid-gen iterator, (Ages being: LTTM, SRS, SOS, CW, NSH, UI, FP), so his emotional AI is a lot more advanced than Suns' (there's quite a gap between the two, Suns is closer to Moon in terms of age).

She considers Hunter to be her daughter, Hunter calls him her dadmom and Moon her mom.

He tends to bury these emotions down for the sake of others, which leads to...bad situations.

She's terrified of being alone :)

Sig just gives me gender fucky-wucky vibes. Her pronouns are the/bit and he's committed to it. There's not really a basis for this in canon but it just fits his personality of being pretty laid back and goofy when not in um. emotional distress. Also the accessorizing to his puppet (ie the scarf) makes me think he likes to experiment with her appearance and presentation. To add on to this in the streamer au she goes by any pronouns and is pretty androgynous, so none of his followers can tell his AGAB, and its funny to him to watch the chat argue about it. (He's AFAB, tbh I can't see her as anything else). No one can guess his sexuality either, the only "confirmed" thing seems to be polyamourous, but other than that it's "whatever makes it gay", or "whatever pisses you off most".

Sig obviously has a knack for bioengineering, as he was the one who started investigating the idea of using purposed messengers to stay in contact with others once the comms degraded, not to mention the creation of the slag reset keys. Yes this is my incoming rant of "Sig is not bad at making slugcats", since sometimes people tend to act like "Sig didn't follow Suns' instructions" or something like that, and that's why Hunter is sick. There are MULTIPLE points in their conversations where it's outright stated that Sig was the one who did it first:

Sig was the one who showed Suns the process:

SRS: I purposed a messenger, and sent the information by land via a data pearl. NSH: How original of you. SRS: I learned from the best.

Sig clearly has experiences with messengers, and Spearmaster happens before Sig begins working on Hunter:

NSH: I feel like I need to be simplifying my speech patterns. Is that something you do when conversing with your messenger?

SUNS SAYS "ANOTHER" MESSENGER, AND THEN LATER SIG SAYS "ANOTHER MESSENGER" AS WELL. SIG HAS MADE MESSENGERS BEFORE:

SRS: Do you suppose you'll ever raise another messenger?

NSH: I'm tempted to start work on raising another messenger as a last ditch effort, but to be honest I don't think there is any point.

And then, in her reply, she says, "*I* started investigating the method".

NSH: If the need arises, I certainly would. After all, I started investigating the method out of the inevitability of our situation.

And just to nail it down that Sig was the one who purposed them first, the gossip between Wandering Omen and Pleading Intellect:

PI: You haven't heard about what No Significant Harassment did? WO: All I heard was the complaining. Didn't he send an iterator something distasteful? PI: Well, yes, but more importantly, he trained a purposed organism to deliver it!

WO: How do you even get a dull creature such as that to follow orders? I may consider asking him to teach me his ways.

So yes, Sig was the one to purpose the messengers first. She had already made at least one in the past, to send the "distasteful message" to someone. I'd honestly say he probably made more between that/before, to test the efficacy and also just to mess around with the process.

This leads into my next headcanon: Sig was a specialized medical facility! Five Pebbles mentions to Hunter that "I was not a medical facility even when the equipment was functioning," so I believe that there were some more specialized iterators built. Sig's knowledge of bioengineering could be an indication of this specialization, not to mention it fits with him not really caring about the great problem to the same degree as everyone else. Purely headcanon after this point, but when Sig was first built, Moon was very nervous about getting a new model of "specialized" iterator that she wouldn't be able to help train as well! Moon was a more generalized iterator as she was older, so she does have knowledge about medicine and bioengineering, as all iterators did for the health and growth of her city, but nothing to the degree Sig would need. Thankfully, iterators are fucking supercomputers, so its not like Sig needed much "training" in the way of that, but still. Moon wanted to be a good mentor to her! And she very much was, considering how Sig turned out. That's why they ended up so close.

After the mass ascension, he became the resident "doctor" of the local group. Pointing back to the slag reset keys, Sig seems to have shoved as many as he could into that thing, since Pebbles reacts to the amount of them with surprise, so he knows his way around iterator biology. In pure headcanon mode now, when they develop my tangible projections thing (which Sig and Moon were heavily involved in), it meant that she could actually help others by preforming repairs on their puppets, and even their structures by sending her overseer into them. Moon's inspectors enjoy head pats from her whenever he's passing by.

Her being a medical facility also means she doesn't give as much thought to finding the Triple Affirmative as others. His processing power was delegated more towards finding cures, aiding the sick, and engineering better production techniques for medical equipment and such. His city is also highly accessible and optimized for the disabled and elderly. When you're a medical facility, your goal is more to keep people alive than perma-kill them! I mostly get this headcanon from the fact that when Suns is faced with "what to do" other than solve the great problem, they respond with "What else CAN we do? You're stuck in your can, and at any moment you have no more than two alternatives: Do nothing, or work like you're supposed to.". Meanwhile, Sig responds to Suns' question about purposing another messenger with "There's nothing better for me to do with my time, though.". Not to mention, he was already purposing messengers before this, so she certainly wasn't dedicating all of her time to iterating the great problem! Of course, he probably did iterate on it, just not to the degree his peers did. He also jokes about it in that broadcast where Wind is telling everyone about erratic pulse, saying "Haha with the slimers, lizards and etceteras? Surely the answer was in a lizard skull all along!" so it really seems like he doesn't take it very seriously.

Her disinterest in solving the problem led to her developing a wide range of hobbies. He's an iterator after all, they probably get horrifically bored if they're not doing something! She taught herself to knit (telling his citizens it helped her focus so they would provide her with needles and yarn), and eventually learns to make garments as well. I headcanon he plays video games too, especially with Chasing Wind, mostly just because she probably wanted to see if an iterator could run Doom for the lolz. Probably also trolls in the group chats sometimes, considering the "distasteful pearl", and I think her being being NGI ("No Great Ideas") would be funny as hell. This also makes it pretty obvious why I made the streamer au, Sig's a top level player for multiple FPS games and has won some pretty prestigious awards in esports tournaments. And then she goes home and plays Hollow Knight randomizers with Pebbles in a maid outfit.

Sig's personality also lent itself to having a lot of friends. Her and Chasing Wind were built less than 50 cycles apart (Wind is older), so they're practically attached at the hip. Wind isn't in her local group (He's in Sliver's), but they're still very close. It's not really explored much in canon since we really only see her interact with Suns for the most part, but given her personality, I don't think it'd be a far off assumption for him to have lots of friends. Because she's younger, she also has a more sophisticated emotional AI...which can be detrimental at times, but is helpful when it comes to maintaining friendships!

AHAH So here comes the um. SAD portion of the rant lol. I feel like Sig buries her emotions down a lot, for the sake of others. In her conversations with Suns, we do see him get snappy with him, but for the most part he remains either calm or sympathetic, at the most a bit pessimistic towards the end. When she finally does call Suns out for their bullshit, he (presumably) stops replying to Suns for a short time before apologizing and continuing to talk to them.

SRS: I'm in noticing you are becoming more defensive. This obviously wasn't the end result I was aiming for, you know. SRS: Please respond to my messages. I don't want to leave it like this. I need someone to talk to. NSH: I don't mean to be cold, I'm just very worried.

After this interaction, Sig seems to either just reply with facts/possibly explanations for Moon/Pebbles' actions, or completely changing the subject to Suns' messenger, which then leads to the broadcast where Suns is telling her all the ways they modified their messenger to sneak past Sig's overseers, by not giving them the mark and hiding the pearl, we see Sig's replies become very short, single sentence answers.

This to me reads as slightly passive aggressive, but Suns doesn't seem to pick up on it. To be honest I in my head I hear this as Sig hissing this shit through clenched teeth if he could, but it's just text so I suppose we'll never know.

Additionally, he still does let his emotions overwhelm her at points, (such as during the "Your plan was a complete failure" broadcast), but the most blatant is probably in the messages she sends to Moon and Pebbles.

Starting with the Pebbles one:

NSH: Five Pebbles, I will say once again. You need to stop. Immediately. NSH: I know you are going to trash this message like the rest, but... NSH: I hope eventually when you are out of this state of mind you will look back at these. NSH: Look back and reflect on all the regrets you've set yourself up to have.

Sig is angry. Like he shows no sympathy for him, and just hopes he wallows in regret for the rest of his life. She does express his dislike of Pebbles while talking to Suns as well, but manages to still be nice by saying "I think a lot of us were like that in the beginning.", and such, and then drops the subject by the next broadcast by talking about Suns' messenger. He only ever talks about Moon's condition, likely to keep himself from being a dick about Pebbles in front of Suns because talking directly about him is obviously pretty touchy. But this broadcast is straight up mean. She doesn't manage to hold back her emotions but to be honest? I don't think he actually cares, if he burns that bridge with Pebbles then fine, because Pebbles burned it first.

Pebbles took away one of the few friends he still had in this dying world.

I really and truly believe that Sig's biggest fear is being alone. She makes the slugcats as a way to keep in contact with others after the comms arrays degrade. After being snappy with Suns, she immediately backtracks, apologizes, and keeps talking to them, even if it hurts. His messages to Moon also emphasize this:

NSH: Moon? Moon, are you able to communicate?

NSH: Moon? It's me again.

NSH: I need to talk to you. I need to know you're okay.

The fact that we are provided two of these broadcasts and not just one seems to point to the idea that these are not the only two Sig sent. "It's me again." There is more desperation in her tone compared to the messages he shares with Suns, possibly because he's more comfortable expressing his profound distress with Moon because they're closer. A part of me headcanons she...never stopped sending messages. He needs to know she's okay. You can even find a green overseer in outer expanse and subterranean, locked out of the facility but still searching, still looking for any sign of Moon...or Hunter.

When Sig sends Hunter to Moon, the pearl he sends is goofy and lighthearted. He doesn't want to bring her down when she's already suffering enough. It's short, and sweet, because anything longer would probably devolve into something unpleasant. She's holding the words on that pearl together with tape and glue. Once again, hiding the pure grief he feels for the sake of others.

I also think that's why Hunter is sick. Once again, pure headcanon, but Sig mentions this on the pearl:

Excuse the unorthodox delivery method, equipment eroding etc etc.

I kinda interpret this as Sig pushing herself too hard to make Hunter in time to save Moon, and in turn, irreversibly damaging himself in the process. An emergency shutdown occurred after he ignores the 50th pressure warning his systems desperately tried to get her to pay attention to, causing Hunter to become sick thanks to the sudden disruption in his concentration, much like Pebbles and the rot. This is also why no other messengers were sent after this, Sig simply couldn't make any more that were healthy. She loved Hunter, and I fully believe that, as Hunter's last vision in the void sea was to return to his arms. Continuing the pure headcanons now, but he treats Hunter like a daughter and knits her a scarf for her journey. She tells Hunter that Moon is her mom. She gives Hunter a name, which were held in very high regard in ancient culture, a gift so she can at least be remembered for her sacrifice: "Hunting the Stars, Moon's Savior."

All and all, Sig is desperately trying to delay the inevitable, watching the walls of loneliness close in as she loses contact with friends, slowly encroaching on her until he's locked up in a box. Alone.

HOWEVER!

I for one, absolutely adore the goofy, flirty personality the fandom gives Sig. I really do believe when he isn't in extreme emotional distress, she is like that. The motherfucker uses tildes in his texts and teases Suns and makes jokes about slimers and lizards. I just like peeling apart the little snippets we see of him, which are mostly at pretty low moments unfortunately, and just seeing what I can extrapolate from that. Even if some of my headcanons are far-fetched and shit, I do at least try to keep most of them at least slightly in character with some explanation.

I hope you enjoyed my unhinged rant about my favorite guy!!!! I put this in google docs and its literally like, 2.4k words, I could genuinely have turned this in to one of my fucking college courses LMFAO. It's probably better than some of the garbage I DID turn in tbh. If you want more I am totally happy to provide, cuz I could make a whole OTHER ramble about Hunter that's just as long LMAOOOO

(Oh also none of this applies to rot au Sig. that freak deserves her own post bc at this point he's 50% oc and 50% No Significant Harassment Rain World LOL)

[double-0h-no]

The Rising Sun

For the prompts "captured" and "helpful non-MI6 agent" from the prompt tables.

on ao3

James Bond has been captured on a mission in New Orleans, and the radio just won't stop playing the same song again and again.

There is...

A house...

In New Orleans...

Sweat was dripping down from his brow on to his thigh.

They call the Rising Sun...

His mouth and throat were dry as the desert. As thrilled as he had been to be sent somewhere warm, that sentiment had left him a good twelve hours ago. The humid warmth was suffocating him alongsaide the makeshift gag made from a rag that was soaking up even the last bit of sliva. 

And it's been...

The ruin...

Of many a poor boy...

New Orleans was too nice a city to die in.

He didn't know why, but especially when it came down to missions in American cities, James liked it here. He'd liked the weather the few times he'd been before, the people, the food, and moving around the city set him at ease in a way. Some cities simply had an aura to them, like he could just blend in and make himself at home without much effort, while others made him permanently suppress the urge to look over his shoulder. New Orleans fell into the former category.

And God...

I know...

I'm one...

It would be an awful shame to die here.

Rather anticlimactic, too. He had no doubt the dehydration would be the thing to do him in. His captors had scattered after some shots were heard outside, and they hadn't returned since. By this point, he wasn't even sure anymore it had anything to do with his mission.

My mother was a taylor...

She sewed my new blue jeans...

Maybe they had just seen a white man who was dressed a bit too finely for the area and had hoped to make a nice bit of money with him. Wait for his phone to ring and ask ransom of the first person to miss him.

Only that his phone wasn't supposed to ring any time soon. Or at all, really.

He wasn't wearing a three piece suit. He'd have stuck out like a sore thumb, but he did wear chinos and a button down made of very light fabric that was unbuttoned just enough to be tastefully enticing. Fitting right in at a bar for a night of games.

My father was a gambling man...

Down...

In New...

Orleans...

They didn't seem to be coming back for him. If those had been the right people, they would have. He was worth more to them alive than dead, and right now he was more the latter than the former.

Now the only thing a gambler needs...

Is a suitcase and trunk...

And to add insult to injury, he'd been drugged.

Theyd spiked his drink, grabbed him, and that was that.

And the only time he's satisfied...

Is when...

He's all...

Drunk...

He had drunk his drink and flirted with the right people to wind up exactly where he was, tied to a chair that was fucking bolted to the floor in a mostly empty room. Sunlight was still filtering in, the sun was slowly setting again, and he tried to do the math again, but the music was too loud. He had been here for going on twenty four hours, though, that he could say. He had gotten water in the... morning?

Oh mother...

Tell your children...

Not to do what I have done...

He couldn't get out of his binds. There was nothing he could reach, and even after dislocating his thumb he couldn't slip out of them. Now all he had was a dislocated thumb he couldn't set. It was quite vexing.

Was the music growing louder?

Spend your lives in sin and misery...

In the house...

Of the Rising Sun...

The sun had wandered a bit lower, and his pulse was picking up a bit. Had he heard something? The music was almost deafening.

Well, I got one foot on the platform...

The other on the train...

His head felt like it was wrapped in cotton, which was vastly preferable over the horrible pain he'd felt before. It was at the same time sharp and pounding and even though he couldn't think further than the tip of his nose, he was glad for it.

I'm going back to New Orleans...

To wear that ball and chain...

 

There was a circular wet patch on his thigh where his sweat was dripping on his thigh.

 

Well there is...

A house...

In New Orleans...

He could feel his heartbeat flutter in his throat and he looked expectantly at the door, waiting for it to open. He might not have control over all his faculties anymore, but his subconscious was better than that. If his heartrate was elevated, he had probably heard something.

 

They call the Rising Sun...

 

Now that he had raised his head to look at the door, sweat was dripping into his eyes and it burned. He was tired.

 

And it's been...

The ruin...

Of many a poor boy...

 

It was a miracle his body could still sweat at all.

And God...

I know...

I'm one.

He breathed a sigh of relief when the last note of the song rang out. The  door, against all hope and expectations, remained closed.

There is...

A house...

In New Orleans...

Bond wanted to scream, but even if he tried, not a sound came out.

There sure as hell was a bloody house here, and he was sitting right in it, and he'd really rather not, if that was all the same to whoever was playing that blasted song.

They call the Rising Sun...

He was really rather sure it was setting. Or was it rising again? It shouldn't be. If the sun was rising, it was a miracle he hadn't indefinitely lost consciousness. Maybe if he dislocated his thumb... A clumsy attempt followed by sharp pain made it abundantly clear that he'd already tried that trick.

And it's been...

The ruin...

Of many a poor boy...

And God...

I know...

I'm one...

He was neither prone to religion, nor to self-pity, yet he couldn't help but agree.

My mother was a taylor...

She sewed my new blue jeans...

Someone was kneeling in front of him, but he couldn't make out who it was. The gag was removed and he tried to cough, tried to swallow, but all he did was convulse and threw up all ofer himself.

The other man grunted.

"At least you waited with that until you got someone to make sure you don't suffocate on it, brother."

My father was a gambling man...

Down...

In New Orleans...

A hand, warm like a branding iron, cupped his cheek, something was set against his lips and blissful water was slowly poured into his mouth. The bottle disappeared way too soon.

Oh mother...

Tell your children...

"Spit out a few times first, or you'll just throw up again," the voice murmured. Bond knew the voice, but he hadn't been able to see clearly for a bit now, no matter how much he blinked. He did as he was told, though most of it landed on him again because moving his head any further felt impossible.

Not to do what I have done...

Water was poured over his face, and it felt like a waste but it felt too good to object. Once the bottle had run empty, he tried to blink his eyes open once more. It still wasn't all clear, but he could make out shapes, could see that there was a man kneeling in front of him, cracking open yet another bottle of water and raising it to his mouth.

Spend your lives in sin and misery...

He drank in careful sips, his throat aching with every single one, but it felt good, so good, even with the headache making a comeback.

The only time he's satisfied...

Is when he's all drunk...

"Felix?", he managed to croak.

James could see the mirthful smile on the man's face. "One and only. Here to save your sorry ass. Your Quartermaster sends his best, by the way."

What did Q have to do with anything?

Not to do what I have done...

The bottle was tipped against his lips again and in small sips, he drank a bit more, though he could already feel his stomach revolting.

Well I got one foot on the platform...

The other on the train...

He groaned, and the water stopped.

"What?"

He tried to form an answer, but it came out slurred and croaked and by the end of it, he himself wasn't sure anymore what it had meant to mean.

Well there is a house in New Orleans...

They call the Rising Sun...

He tried again, with more success: 

And it's been...

The ruin...

Of many a poor boy...

"Turn off th' music." He could barely hold himself upright. He hadn't had to, the last few hours, but now it felt prudent.

And God...

"James,"

I know...

"there isn't any music."

I'm one.

After that, it was a good thing that consciousness didn't hold on to him too tightly.

[anthrophobixx]

can u share with us why/how you chose the typings for the characters like why karen fairy, why oliver ghost and so on

of course !!

Karen got the fairy type because fairy types are mostly known for being quiet, calm, collected, but also very hard hitting, which I feel like resembles Karen quite well

Oliver got ghost because of the spooky mansion !! At the end of his good route he talks about how the cinema was indeed haunted by ghosts, but he managed to befriend some of them. This was actually suggested by a different tumblr ask, since we originally wanted to give Oliver the electric type :]

Randy got poison, since poison types usually live in conditions that are deemed "poor" by humans, but they're infact optimal for them. That's kinda how they found Randy actually. Bro is also probably a walking hazard so it only makes sense. Not to mention the kind of poison type pokemon that exist that just...scream Randy Jade (eg garbodor, who's actually his strongest guy)

Gabby got electric since she works at a phone shop and her job is to fix phones, printers, typewriters, all that good stuff. Since she fixes items that require electricity we thought electric type was the most fitting. Even if electricity isn't always needed when repairing things, pokemon such as magnemite, magneton and rotom can be useful regardless as shown in the games

Jerry got normal since he is probably the most casual citizen in dialtown. He's just livin his life, got nothing too special going on, he's just a regular guy

Norm got fighting and I feel like it's kinda self explanatory why. Fighting types are known for being angry and aggressive, but also reasonable and kind once they get used to their trainers. Some fighting type pokemon are also known for wanting justice and they fight for whatever they feel is right (eg lucario). Sounds kinda like Norm imo

Mingus got dark because she's a corrupt mayor, but also because the dark type has the most cats. Majority of dark type pokemon are sassy and they all give off this weird mingus energy I can't put into words.

Callum got steel because he works with metal. His arms, legs and his head are made out of metal. There's pokemon that shed pieces of metal when they evolve (aron) so he doesn't only use his pokemon in battle, but also in his workshop, kinda like Gabby. I can't explain it any better sobw

Bunny got ice since he's "cold as ice" iykwim. Tried to give him as many passive aggressive pokemon as possible (and this includes alolan ninetales somehow)

Gingi doesn't have a specific type since it probably ate the gym leader guide book it got from the higher ups. It also doesn't keep it's pokemon in pokeballs since 1. no money 2. the concept of big ass creechurs being trapped in tiny balls terrify it and it doesn't want its pokemon to be "put in ball prison". Gingi also resembles the player in this au thing

Abel got fire since fire does resemble anger, but also power. Abel owns a whole ass funfair and is also part of the minglings !! Bro got plenty of power !! He is also angry at Gingi for wasting his time, bothering his employees and pissing on one of his attractions I totally didn't forget what it was but I remember it happening !! We tried giving him all the passive aggressive fire type pokemon we could find in the dex (he's also matching w his boywife bc love wins)

Mr. Dickens got psychic since psychic types are known for being the wise, knowledgable pokemon. Like fairy types, they're also calm, quiet and collected, but they got a lil touch of wisdom in there. They also represent the power of the intellect, which is pretty mr. dickenscore if I say so myself.

Theoroar got the dragon type, since theo doesn't actually give a damn about building a bond or relating to his pokemon. He wants the rarest, most powerful pokemon under his grasp and dragon types just so happen to fit in both of those categories. His logic is that his pokemon work for him and whatever gets him to the top he will use it

Hobo got all the gods. Dialga, the god of time, Palkia, the goddess of space, Xerneas, the goddess of life, Yvetal the god of death and Arceus the creator of it all and the being above everything. He probably has Groudon and Kyogre in his pc, since they're the god of land and the sea respectively. He got herdier for good measure, it's kinda like Red's pikachu in the johto games.

Tango and Billy are both rocket executives so they don't have a specific type they specialize in, but Billy has a more offensive team no pun intended, while Tango has a more defensive one

Shooty and Stabby well....they obv don't have a type they specialize in since they're pretty much just rocket grunts. Their goal is to become executives one day

[mizu-chin]

Yes My Lord "The Encounter with the Undertaker"

*English is not my first language, sorry for any mistakes*

The Phantomhive mansion was in a frenzy that morning, with Ciel ordering everyone to prepare for an important visitor. The Undertaker, the enigmatic and eccentric funeral director who acted as Ciel's informant, had requested a meeting. The Undertaker's arrival was always a peculiar event, marked by his eccentric personality and macabre humor.

S/n was in the library, reviewing some documents related to the ongoing investigation, when Ciel entered, closely followed by Sebastian.

"S/n," Ciel began, his voice calm but urgent. "We're expecting an important visitor. The Undertaker. He may have crucial information for our investigation."

She looked up from the papers and nodded. "Understood, Ciel. Should I prepare something special?"

Ciel shook his head. "Just be present. Your observational skills may be useful."

Sebastian remained silent, but his eyes tracked every movement of S/n. He knew that the Undertaker's arrival could bring complications, especially because the eccentric funeral agent had a tendency to show interest in things that were out of the ordinary. And S/n, with her strength and mystery, certainly fit into that category.

Later, in the main hall, S/n, Ciel, and Sebastian awaited the Undertaker's arrival. When he finally appeared, his characteristic smile and sinister laughter filling the room, all eyes turned to him.

"Ah, what a delightful gathering!" exclaimed the Undertaker, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "And who is this fascinating creature that I haven't had the pleasure of meeting yet?"

Ciel stepped forward. "Undertaker, this is S/n. She has been a great ally of ours."

The Undertaker's eyes fixed on S/n with a curious glint. "S/n, what a charming name for such an intriguing lady. May I ask, my dear, what brought you into the company of young Master Phantomhive?"

S/n held her gaze steady but friendly. "I was hired to assist Ciel in his investigations. And it seems our collaboration has been quite fruitful."

Undertaker laughed, a deep and resonant sound. "Fruitful indeed. I see the young master has good taste in allies."

Sebastian, who was watching the interaction closely, felt a pang of jealousy growing within him. He knew that the Undertaker's interest was not merely professional. There was a genuine curiosity and perhaps something more, something he didn't want to admit to himself.

"What have you brought us today, Undertaker?" asked Ciel, trying to steer the conversation back to the main focus.

"Oh, just some information about a recent move by our common enemy," replied the Undertaker, not taking his eyes off S/n. "But I must say, I'm more interested in learning about the new addition to your group."

S/n, sensing Sebastian's discomfort, decided to intervene. "I'm here to help Ciel, nothing more. If you have information that can assist us, I'm eager to hear it."

The Undertaker smiled even wider, a gesture that seemed almost paternal. "Direct and to the point. I like that. Very well, let's get down to business."

As the Undertaker began to detail the information he had gathered, Sebastian couldn't help but observe the interaction between him and S/n. There was something in the way the Undertaker looked at her, something that made the demon inside Sebastian stir. He had always considered S/n an ally and, more recently, something deeper that he was still trying to understand. Seeing another show interest in her stirred up feelings that he preferred to keep hidden.

After the meeting ended, Ciel retired to his office, taking the documents provided by the Undertaker with him. Sebastian and S/n were left alone in the room, a tense silence filling the space between them.

"You didn't like the Undertaker, did you?" asked S/n, breaking the silence.

Sebastian looked at her, his eyes darkening with conflicting emotions. "The Undertaker is... peculiar. And his curiosity can be unsettling."

She smiled, a soft and understanding smile. "He's intriguing, for sure. But don't worry, Sebastian. I'm here for Ciel, for our mission."

He took a step forward, the intensity in his eyes growing. "It's not the Undertaker that concerns me, S/n. It's what he might uncover about you."

S/n tilted her head, curious. "And what could he discover that would bother you so much, Sebastian?"

He hesitated for a moment, his conflicting emotions reflected on his face. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but laden with intensity. "You're more than you appear, S/n. And that worries me. Not because I fear for Ciel, but because... I fear for you."

She reached out, lightly touching his arm. "Sebastian, I'm capable of protecting myself. And I trust you to help me with that. But there's something more here, isn't there?"

He looked away, a rare display of vulnerability. "Perhaps there is. But it's not something I can easily admit."

S/n stepped closer, her eyes locked on his. "Then maybe we should start by trusting each other. There's much we still need to uncover, both about our enemies and ourselves."

He looked at her hand, feeling the warmth and strength in her touch. "You're right, S/n. Maybe it's time to let some barriers fall."

As they stood there, a new understanding began to form. The Undertaker's presence had stirred up emotions that both were trying to deny, but perhaps it was the key to understanding what they truly felt for each other.

Sebastian finally looked at her, his gaze softer. "Let's face this together, S/n. And whatever may come, we'll face it together."

She smiled, a smile that lit up the room. "Always, Sebastian."

As the two shared this moment of connection, Ciel discreetly watched from the doorway of his office. A feeling of gratitude and affection enveloped his heart as he witnessed the interaction between S/n and Sebastian. He subtly realized that S/n was not just an ally but a maternal figure in his life, a comforting and protective presence he had been missing since his mother's death.

With a slight smile on his lips, Ciel returned his attention to his duties, knowing that as long as S/n and Sebastian were by his side, he would have the strength and support he needed to face any challenge that came his way.

[granolawriting]

Could I request a platonic piece with Anakin and a teenage Padawan reader who’s having nightmares she thinks are visions? If this isn’t your style that’s ok ^^ If you do write it, plz tag my sideblog, eternalwanderlustvagabond

Oh sweetheart, this is totally my thing! I just don't see all too many people wanting it, is all. I will gladly write any kind of fic, and this one was a sweet deviation from the norm. thank you for the request <3

·˚ ༘ fears of a padawan; Anakin comfort text ·˚ ༘

word count: 1.2k!

request for @eternalwanderlustvagabond :)

Screams. That's the thing that you remember most. Alongside the clashing of blades and the thuds of bodies dropping, that's all that stays in your mind as you wake up covered in your own sweat. Heavy breaths, petrified over what you’ve just seen. 

For weeks now it seems, every so often you’ll have a dream, perhaps, of what seems to be all of your friends, family in a sense, in a battle they can't win. It haunts you. You don't even want to sleep properly anymore, anything to get away from the prospect of those visions returning. 

Visions. They have to be. Despite being only a padawan, you found yourself to be quite the well-versed one. People had a lot of faith in you, they roped you into the same category they often did Anakin-- which undoubtedly made him one of your closest confidants. Both having been picked by the council to train past the average due date, and both displayed grand abilities with the force. But he just seemed to have such a better time handing such a blessing and a curse. You were in awe of him. 

These dreams, premonitions, began to affect even the way you trained. Staying up until late into the night, and limiting your sleep to short increments that don't lull you into enough comfort to dream, doesn't do too well with days that require mental strain and physical fitness. You began falling behind in a way, and people noticed. You were stuck at a crossroads of sorts; did you relieve yourself of having to handle these visions you had, or did you rest yourself well enough to perform at the level everyone expects you to? 

Then, it’d hit you. You'd never properly talked to anyone about this, you never told anyone how you felt, keeping it locked away deep inside of you you’d rather carry your sorrow by yourself and bear the consequences of silence than speak up about it. A part of you felt as though it wasn't important enough to justify a council meeting, that your pain didn't warrant any help, and you didn't want to be a burden to anyone else in a way. Who could you even talk to about this? Surrounded by younglings who wouldn't understand, or padawans focused on their own training, and heaven forbid you spoke to the higher-ups on this matter-- when they have actual pressing matters to attend to. Some worse than your dreams. You decide to stay to yourself once more. 

The soft clacking of blunt heels echoes in an otherwise empty hall-- another unsuccessful training session under your belt, apparently. You felt dejected, and those around you grew curious about your behavior. Another night you would spend awake in your room, tossing and turning over the fears that you couldn't tell anyone about. Or, so you thought. 

A second sound of feet growing rushed in the hallway you both shared, an unfamiliar tune of what seemed to be an even unfamiliar stride draws ever close to you until you look behind you to see who could greet you at a time like this. 

“Hey, do you think we could talk for a minute?” 

It was Anakin. You had almost forgotten about him as you were so wrapped in yourself, but this question makes your heart drop. Is he here to talk about your low performance? Did your master send him? Did something really happen and you never said anything? 

“Oh, of course, what's the issue?” 

You respond in the most casual tone you can muster, just barely coated over the fear and worry lacing every syllable you speak. 

“Is, everything okay with you? I mean this genuinely. I've seen the way you’ve been training recently-- it's not like yourself. And I know you like I know myself. You are strong, and something really must be getting to you right now, I can almost see it in your eyes.” 

You stand there silenced for a moment. 

“Oh- but, please, correct me if I'm wrong. I don't mean to assume I just wanted to check on you. I care for you.” 

You feel a tear well in your eye at the sound of that. He was your friend. And as you stood there, a mouth slightly open as you tried to get the words out you felt that realization wash over you. Maybe he could do something about it, maybe he would understand what you were talking about-- maybe, he's experienced them too. 

“Anakin, I've been having visions. Visions of our masters, our friends, they were-” 

Getting choked up on your words for a moment you pause to compose yourself. Anakin looks at you with eyes full of attentiveness, not a smidge of judgment is found within his eyes focused on you, a mouth closed to allow himself to listen and even more let you compose yourself without interruption. 

“They were, in a battle that can't be won. I watched them get hurt, and fail. There was nothing I could do, it was like I was an outsider to my own future. And, I can't sleep over it. I can barely eat anakin. To be honest I'm a mess. And I just don't know what to do, I don't want my family to die.” 

A frown forms upon Anakin's face, but it's a sentimental one. Empathetic, even as he opens his arms for a hug and you with tear-ridden eyes follow his embrace. His arms folded around your back he soothes your sniffles into his robe with a thumb tracing your back, and a soothing reply;

“Oh- oh, it's okay. I know what you’re talking about, truly. It's okay to be afraid of those. You love us, and we all love you just the same. There's no reason to feel bad to be so scared of things like that, it's more than natural. But listen to me okay?” 

He raises his hands to your shoulders, as means to look directly into your eyes before what he says next; 

“You don't have to worry, okay? You and I are alike in so many ways, and I can promise you, they’re not visions. No matter how vivid they may be, the force can't do that to us. You can't see into the future, not even master yoda can, okay? So don't feel like you have to bear that kind of burden. You’re just afraid, and that's okay. I am too. Every day I walk these halls I worry I won't be good enough. And sometimes, that seeps into my dreams as well. And I feel hopeless, just as you are. But you can't let that overtake you. The only way to overcome these dreams is to overcome the feeling of not being good enough to help those you love the way they help you. And the first way to start is knowing that you help me, just as I help you too. We’re in this together okay? And we always will be.” 

His eyes are stern, but they’re coated with care. Said with a small smile on his face to comfort you, he brought you into an embrace once more. 

“You’re a wonderful person, okay? And I will always be here for you. Always."

Is said close to your ear, a comforting voice and body overwhelms you and he holds you once more, and as you allow the tears to subside the words he said to you truly resonate with you. You are more than your fears, and your insecurities. And he's reminded you of that. Those who are strong, first have to convince themselves that they are strong. And just like Anakin, you wish to be strong. And with him by your side, you’re sure you can do just that. 

[mamichigo]

On his first visit to Alhaitham's bedroom, Cyno was surprised by the vanity in one corner of the room. It didn't quite fit with Alhaitham's preferences, its appearance clashing with the rest of the decor in the room. Despite that, it looked well used: lined with jewelry and fancy looking products. His eyes lingered there for quite awhile.

"Although I noticed the makeup on your eyes, somehow seeing the actual packages in your room threw me for a loop," he admitted after a bit, unable to contain his curiosity. "The vanity was beyond my expectations. Do you really use all of that?"

Alhaitham studied the vanity with a fond, melancholic look that Cyno couldn't understand.

"Not all at once, and certainly not everyday."

"I've… thought about using it. My job doesn't often allow indulgence, however." He traced the faint red line under Alhaitham's eye with his eyes, imagining doing it with his fingertips instead. "I can at least say I like how it looks on you."

"Are you complimenting me?" Alhaitham asked with a smirk.

"I don't believe I have to justify myself for admiring my partner's look," Cyno scoffed.

"Of course not."

Alhaitham held up a small brush and what looked like an eyeshadow palette as a peace offering.

"Do you want to try it?" He offered. "We'll start simple, that way you can just wipe it off if you don't like it or if it causes you any discomfort."

"We have the time, and the opportunity," Cyno thought to himself. He nodded. "I wouldn't mind it, if you're okay with sharing."

"There's very little I'm unwilling to lend to you."

Cyno raised his eyebrows in challenge. "Your toothbrush?"

"Hm." Alhaitham made a face, his nose scrunched up cutely. "I believe that falls into the 'very little' category."

"Good, I might have had to do something drastic otherwise."

"Would you hunt me down, dear General?" 

As if to show how little he was threatened by that prospect, Alhaitham steered him towards the chair by the vanity. He resolutely set Cyno down. He tilted his head to the side, expression as deadpan as ever, except for the slight crinkle to his eyes.

"May I?"

Cyno tipped his chin up in assent. Alhaitham took a step closer, slotting himself comfortably between Cyno's knees.

"Close your eyes," he instructed, words as soft as the summer breeze.

Despite himself, Cyno tensed. He became all too aware of his exposed throat, Alhaitham's hands hovering close to every vulnerable point of his skull. In his head, he counted to ten and inhaled. He could smell Alhaitham's cologne, the scent of old books, and the faint trace of roses coming from the makeup.

He was okay. He was safe. Cyno closed his eyes.

Alhaitham's fingers were gentle on his cheeks, and the makeup brush even moreso. Cyno realized he could easily fall asleep just like this, in his grasp.

The silence endured for quite awhile. When Alhaitham interrupted it, it was with a barely there murmur. The sort of tone he knew Cyno alone could hear well.

"You're curious about it. Not the just the makeup, or the jewelry. I could tell." A pause, as if Alhaitham was measuring his words. "I used to get into my grandmother's belongings and try on anything I liked."

"Did she mind...?"

"Not at all. She always said I did a much better job than her with the makeup. In fact, this was her favorite look." Alhaitham ran a thumb along his bottom eyelashes. "Just a little bit of black eyeshadow to the corner of the eyelids. She always jokingly admonished me for looking so 'provocative.'"

Cyno chuckled, a little incredulous. "Provocative?"

"She was convinced we'd have a line of suitors at our doorstep at that rate," Alhaitham replied, just as amused.

"I suppose it's just me, now."

Another pause. Cyno wished to see Alhaitham's expression, a sweet ache settling on his chest.

"It's just you," Alhaitham whispered.

He succumbed to his urge, eyelids fluttering open just a smidge. Like this, Alhaitham was nothing but hazy blur. But even that little glimpse sparked a fire in his stomach, the desire to kiss him on his bitten lips growing stronger. Cyno quickly closed his eyes again. 

"She sounds like a wonderful woman," he said instead.

"She is." Catching himself, Alhaitham ammended: "She was. I didn't inherit any of it, just the physical possessions. Her rings, her spare glasses… even this vanity was hers. There, I'm done with your eyes."

Alhaitham turned the chair to the mirror, and the loss of his body warmth made Cyno shiver. It was quickly soothed by the hand resting on his shoulder blades.

He couldn't pay attention to the makeup, not immediately. Cyno could tell that little story had been calculated. Answering trust with trust. He would bet Alhaitham rarely shared it with others, if he did it at all.

Cyno caught the hand by his shoulder and kissed Alhaitham's knuckles. "Thank you for telling me about her."

"I'm doing myself a favor," he huffed. There was a waver in his voice Cyno had never heard before. "I'd be in deep trouble if I didn't introduce her to my partner."

"It's my honor to get to know her."

Alhaitham leaned down and planted a kiss on his forehead.

"I know she'd agree with me when I say you look beautiful."

At that, Cyno did look in the mirror. Not just at the soft halo of black eyeshadow around his eyes, but at Alhaitham behind him. Their hands caught in each other's, the adoring look in Alhaitham's eyes, and even the smile on his own lips. Being in love suited them, he thought with some surprise.

Seeing it reflected so clearly in the vanity's mirror, Cyno hoped it meant she, too, would agree with the sentiment.

[generalluxun]

So, I now we've discussed the Marinette Butterfly user Villain AU a bit and I wanted to share some musings I thought you'd find interesting.

I mentioned in talking I sort of had two distinct themes/ideas in mind that don't really fit together but that both are interesting to me.

So the basic set up is the same in both versions, something bad happens to Marinette's family over the school break. So she's got enough isolation from that when she's gifted a pendant as a comfort present, no one is present enough to notice her shenanigans.

She & her family are good people and they didn't deserve this (True) he resolves to access the power "Greater than Death" to right this wrong, & starts by sending out butterflies to locate the Miraculous.

With the broad empathy of the pendant & the more direct line via the butterflies, her perception of people becomes deeply bitter. People are becoming as miserable and angry as she is over the most minor of things! Leading to an increasing alienation from other people that makes her fall to villainy after a disastrous (Through butterfly) conversation with a transformed Fu.

This leads to "Dark Wings Rise."

Anyway the two variants I envisioned are as follows:

1: A deconstructive theme on the nature of "Good social skills VS bad social skills.

By which I mean, Marinette canonically is quite deft socially when not flabbergasted by her crush or super stressed. She offers genuine aid to those around her and gifts gives freely. This leads her to being very well liked.

In contrast, Chloe has terrible social skills in most casual scenarios she's exposed too and is actively disliked. & Lila, while well liked is only that way through using "Bad" skills, such as lying, rather than genuine one's.

The contrast would be in them, despite falling into the traditionally 'bad' category being her opposition. While Marinette uses her influence in the class to target them cos good skills can still be used for bad things.

In this context I imagine her Catalyst would be Sabrina. Whom she whisked away from Chloe and whose drive to be useful to others made her very easy to convert into an Akuma that existed to empower Marinette.

Lila's response to the class would basically be, "Is this a cult? Am I being educated in a cult class?" While Chloe's is more just "Everyone hated me anyway, & I don't trust anyone any-how bring it!"

The biggest hurdles would be Marinette's social skills not taking a dive with her head space. That she'd need to be transformed to use Nooroo's empathy power. & the fact she's not naturally that kind of schemer anyway.

2: A Good Victim Becomes a Bad Victim, VS a Bad Victim

Messily put, but fairly straightforward. A big issue many have with the show, and that can be analyzed inside it, even in the earlier seasons. Is how "Bad victims" who act out of hurt, ignorance or malice brought out in them don't usually get the same kind of empathy as the "Good victims". IE, the people whose trauma doesn't manifest in ways that are inconvenient or unpleasant or messy.

Let alone the perception of needing to earn people's assistance by improving before you get support, even when one is a child with no support networks, minimal guidance and struggle even identifying the problem. Yeah sure that may make it easier for people to help them but that's like asking someone with PTSD to stop having panic attacks before they get therapist for their panic attacks.

In this case, Marinette's not a character who canonically can easily grasp the "Bad victim" experience, or more subtle coercions. As a result, even when in a position like Ladybug she sometimes fumbles some major points or misses red flags Chloe & Gabriel/Audrey respectively.

So thematically she's unaware of it but her decline into villainy also involves her becoming a "Bad victim". One who chases away people trying to comfort her, if perhaps less overtly than Chloe, as her pity well taps out because "being embarrassed over a crush isn't as bad as what I went through but you feel as bad, how dare you!"

Meanwhile Chloe, largely due to circumstances is put in a somewhat better situation, be it a team, or via access to the Kwami or even just the admittedly clumsy efforts of Fu to stop her from getting killed by Akuma every few days.

The point is she's getting the help first and improving her standing in class and her mental health because of it. A fact which boggles Marinette who can't see how, or why, this is happening and perceives it as another injustice.

Her Catalyst would be Lila who sees the skilled seamstress has become socially isolated by her own hand. Her casual use of Akuma & efforts to see if Marinette can be a useful 'friend' lead her to becoming an accomplice. One who likely realizes too late just how out of hand this all is.

I think he big struggle with this idea would be how things got 'that bad' and 'that isolating' for Marinette. At least without making either her social network look shitty, or her own inclinations being naturally towards villainy regardless.

Conclusion:

I think over all the second version feels more coherent. Good social skills can be used for bad is more like an episode theme than a series theme. Plus as said it requires more explanations for how things go the way they do than the other.

Especially if Lila's less "Machiavellian villain" and more, "Oh she makes good outfits & has no friends, I can fix that & get free clothes! Oh she has magic powers, I want magic powers, I-... I think I am in over my head here... Double down double down!"

Notes:

Though it could also easily be linked with some other ideas I had recently. Like that more expanded villain cast from the regular AU.

IE, Sorcerers seeking the Miraculous, temple monk survivor after Fu, the Tsurugi's being anti villains/antagonists but not villains. Lila actually being Volpina, ETC.

Let alone the recent "Butterfly can do everything Peacock does with creative thinking" idea. Tough in that case explaining where Adrien came from may be hard without more of an overt AU...

Unless, the story starts into the school year, and Adrien, having befriended Marinette early on gives her his mothers pendant perhaps? Could still have Gabriel causing his own kind of trouble too... Hmm...

I muse, even as I know I likely lack the time to write this ><

Anyway I hope it was interesting!

I like the analysis. Second scenario definitely feels more viable. Drop senti-Adrien and the blending of the Butterfly/peacock doesn't matter. I would *not* bring sorcery/other stuff in. You already have a *lot* going on. You are past the point of adding complexity.

[itslouisan]

Headcannons: Urahara Kisuke

Heyo tumblr, for anyone that knows me it's no surprise I love this dork and have a slight bleach hyperfocus (not slight at all, thanks Philza for getting me onto it). And Urahara is probably my favorite character, not only in bleach, but in fiction, I do have a sort of list of characters I love in general and he is on number 6 in a list of 262 characters. So needless to say I got A LOT of hc of him.

Note: yes you can count some of them for C!Philza, bc I'm silly and Phil def got some inspiration writing wise.

Also thanks to @saranel (which is one of my fav blogs bleach wise even though it has no updates in AGES) since she inspires a lot of my headcannons and analysis for Kisuke.

Without further delay, let's get into it.

These headcannons are a bit all over the place but I talk a lot about science related stuff (but I do plan on making a separate post ONLY about scientist Kisuke, more specifically MAD scientist Kisuke) it's a bit of everything so enjoy

• First of all, Kisuke is a person with trust issues, this is obvious considering how he acts towards others during the series, but even more so when you notice we've never been shown his lab, room or any interiors that he spends a lot of time on aside from the shop, which makes me think he never lets ANYONE inside. The only exception being Yoruichi, Tessai, Ururu and Jinta. After all, they are the closest thing he has of family (a found family if you will), and spaces such as his room and lab are too personal, a place where he put his soul and time onto, not only to feel comfortable but bc is where he can hide from the outside and focus on his projects and curiosity without worrying about others or being too vulnerable.

• His lab is quite neat normally, but, when he gets IN THE ZONE. He definitely has a messy lab, coffee cups, snacks (if he even cares about eating), papers, components, materials, and everything scattered, probably has a futon laid on the floor (which Kisuke didn't want to place, it was Tessai worried for his friend's health since HE WAS SLEEPING UNDERNEATH THE TABLE OR IN THE CHAIR FOR *DAYS OR EVEN WEEKS*) which has some plushie and pillows and a single blanket, prob has a ton of books in the tables too and in general a messy place that only makes to him

• Kisuke IS a clingy sleeper, Yoruichi can't escape when they are together sharing the same bed since he clings onto her like a pale octopus, or a claw arcade machine and with a bear tight grip. So he def owns a couple of plushies or soft pillows for hugging when he can't have her near this way he doesn't feel alone

• Kisuke definitely spends some time searching about random science facts, experiments and so on, I like to think while he is smart, he is more smart towards technology,human mind wise and battle wise science fields, so he tends to search more about those specific topics in depth, being a poison master.

• Due to his passion for science, he started collecting books, rare documents and archives, rare samples of experiments, things like specific components still in development and so on, and keeps it all in a secret place in his lab

• Sexuality and gender wise, I view Kisuke as either bi or pan, he definitely experimented a bit of everything and that included different gendered partners and he found out he likes it, so yeah. Gender wise, Urahara in at least japanese uses non-binary but also female speech, which made me think perhaps he would be interested in crossdressing but also that he falls into the category of a man who doesn't care or want to fit the male stereotypes and expectations, plus probably wouldn't care THAT much for gender, so you can say either he is a cis man that only vibes with feminine stuff, or he is agender (which I like a lot), hell you can go as far to say he could even be genderfluid.

But in a resume so I don't make a whole ass post about this: pan or bi, agender or just feminine man.

• Video game nerd, BUT MORE IMPORTANT, A NINTENDO STAN. I view that his favorite Nintendo franchises would be Zelda and Mario, hell maybe he would even cosplay Link

• he totally went NUTS when Minecraft was released (considering bleach takes place in 2002 in the beginning so...yep) and def loves to play Minecraft (cof cof Philza) in his free time, would make a server for everyone to join, be a redstone nerd and only play in hardcore or in super modded servers.

• He would absolutely LOVE to make complex farms that break EVERY SINGLE LIMIT in the game scripts, plus make builds that take AGES to make and call it simple, plus he'd love the game since it's a great way to teach the kids stuff and practice everyone's creativity while hanging around in a fun way

• Would get famous in Karakura due to being a REALLY good player in any types of videogames, but then would brush it off as "just a hobby" to make kids feel better and keep trying to improve (while maybe selling merch in the shop to improve in the games.)

• When he came to the human world, he became CRAZY for coffee, he likes it pure black, no sugar, sometimes adds cream but that's it

• Loves to watch announcements of new technologies and discuss how he could improve them, or how he is impressed by how far they are coming, plus he loves 64 and 32 bits but was MARVELED at the first 3D he saw like a Nintendo 64 type or 3D and couldn't stop talking about "how realistic" it was getting and how he is excited for the future of technology

• He isn't a programmer, but I think he has knowledge of how to code stuff, I could imagine if he needed to expand his store or be away for too long or be needed in 2 different places, I can imagine Kisuke coding an 64 bits version of himself to welcome people to the store, kinda like a recording or prototype ai to talk with people about certain things while he is away and it would be a lot of different screens with different dialog and functions

• Loves to paint his nails and would make the craziest designs and show it off to everyone, but his to go nails are either:

A- plain black

B- green and white nails matching his hat

• I'm 100% convinced he owns multiple pairs of the same clothing. I'm talking like straight up 50 hats, same samue, same pants, same geta, SAME EVERYTHING. AND HE WILL POUT AND GET MAD IF FORCED TO CHANGE.

• autism codded. That's all I'm saying

• Probably a fan of metal music, baby metal too, hell he'd be CRAZY about vocaloid and his favorite would be Miku, Vflower and Len (perhaps kaito too)

• He is a big fan of going to temples to talk about the history of the place, how religion shaped the culture in Japan, why each temple is special, and despite being an atheist (and proud of it) he prob bought one or two fans from their gift shops because he finds them extra pretty and detailed

Well that's probably it for today, you can ask me anything about Urahara or bleach characters in general and I'll go bonkers with it and answer in the most complex way possible, so yeah, see ya chat

[emotionallychargedtowel]

shuffled (sort of)

I was tagged for this by @lurkingshan and it looked like fun, so I made up a way to participate even though I don't listen to music on any of those services that people tend to use for these things. The closest I get is listening to things on youtube so I made a list of songs the YT algorithm suggested to me. That list was a bit long so I used a random number generator to pick ten. Well, I really hit paydirt. I couldn't have come up with a better list if I had chosen it all myself.

And then weeks went by and I sat on this nearly-finished post for no good reason! Now I'm dusting it off and getting it out of my drafts.

I'm never big on tagging people on these things, it makes me incredibly anxious. But after this much time has passed, I really can't imagine doing it. That said, if anyone reads this and feels inspired to do it too, please consider yourself tagged.

Orange Juice - I Can’t Help Myself

One of the best tracks on my favorite Orange Juice album. This is a really good distillation of their sound that shows their influences really clearly (postpunk, classic soul, the Velvet Underground, Chic, the Buzzcocks, etc. etc.) while showing how they did something with them that's completely their own. It doesn't hurt that no one sounds quite like Edwyn Collins.

SZA - Ghost in the Machine

For a couple of years now I've been trading song recommendations with a close friend of mine. In other words, we take turns giving each other a song to listen to. It's been great, in part because our tastes are pretty danged different (though with enough overlap to have common ground). I've found out about a lot of amazing stuff through her but I don't think there's a song that has stuck with me more from this project than Ghost in the Machine. This song just keeps giving me goosebumps after...it's been a year and change, I think.

Taemin - Criminal

Years ago I asked my old internet friend Kate (who I've been interacting with since our livejournal days) about kpop. She has always been better than I am at keeping up with new music and I knew she knew a thing or two about it. She gave me a short list of songs to check out and Criminal was on it. It didn't quite click at first but it stuck in my brain somehow. I came back to it later and boom. It clicked big time. It reminds me of a few things. The la-la-la part definitely has a debt to Kylie Minogue's Can't Get You Out of My Head and the lead-up to the chorus reminds me of Roy Orbison's I Drove All Night. It has a retro quality that probably makes it more palatable to a middle-aged listener like myself but when I hear the synthpop tones of my childhood through a contemporary filter I don't get nostalgia so much as a distorted time-warp feeling (in a nice way).

Brave Girls - We Ride

A while back I was emailing back and forth with another friend of mine who I talk to about music a lot--wow, I didn't know that was going to be such a theme here, but I love it--and we were talking about new and old East Asian pop genres. He made me a list of a few recent kpop and jpop songs that he thought were reminiscent of city pop, an 80s genre out of Japan that's a favorite of his. There were quite a few winners on that list but this song is the one I've listened to the most. There's another theme: sounds from my formative years filtered through a contemporary lens. I can see why my friend associated it with city pop. The combination of disco/funk elements (like that choppy Nile Rodgers guitar part) and soft pop (the harmonies, the synth strings) fits right into that category. These elements were everywhere when I was a kid but they didn't get put together in this way.

Tsunami - Be Like That

This song about a has-been ex-boyfriend is more relatable to me in my 40s than it was when I first heard it in my 20s, but that's how old Jenny Toomey was when she wrote it. I've never gotten super into Tsunami despite liking a couple of their songs quite a lot (this one, and Valentine, from their album Deep End). I should probably revisit them. They always had a way with washy guitars and interesting chords, and Jenny Toomey's voice is legendary for a reason. (The version of I Only Have Eyes for You that she recorded with Grenadine, her side project with Mark Robinson from Unrest and the drummer from the Eggs, makes really good use of that voice. It's fucking exquisite and literally gives me goosebumps.)

Spoon - Me and the Bean

This one's a bit personal. I was active in the indie rock scene in Austin in the early 'aughts when Spoon was transitioning from their status as a cautionary tale of major label abandonment* into the period where they reached greater heights on an indie than that major label ever would have allowed. That scene wasn't very big so it's not surprising that in addition to Girls Can Tell-era Spoon being nearly omnipresent for a period of my life, I also have some personal connections there. Anyway, people seldom notice that this song is a cover. I never saw the Sidehackers, the band who originally performed the song (I'm not sure if they even managed to record it). But if this song ends up being what people remember most about them, it would make a respectable legacy. I don't know the later Spoon stuff as well as this era, but back then, there weren't a lot of Spoon originals that were as overtly emotional as this one. (You didn't typically hear a line like "I have your blood inside my heart" in an original Spoon song.) Britt Daniel may not have written this, but he doesn't hold back in his performance. So I always appreciated how it balanced out the more emotionally reserved style of the other songs on Girls Can Tell.

*They channeled the experience into songwriting to good effect. "The Agony of Lafitte," about the A&R guy that signed them to Elektra before the label screwed them over, is probably my favorite Spoon song.

the Chills - Pink Frost

I feel like so much has been written about this song that there isn't much point trying to say anything about it. It has a truly important place in the history of New Zealand indie music, and the events surrounding it are pretty interesting. But mostly it's just a really well-crafted piece of dark, sneakily poppy post-postpunk. Among people my age with similar tastes to mine, I can't think of a song that ended up on more mixtapes. (Though a friend of mine always used to say he regretted that he couldn't really put it on mixtapes for girls he was interested in because of the whole murdered girlfriend aspect of it.)

Veronica Falls - Misery

This song is obscenely catchy. It only takes one listen to get me singing it to myself in the kitchen for months. It's pretty fun to sing to oneself, in the kitchen or otherwise, but I'm sure it would be a million times more so if you could reproduce the harmonies with a partner. Veronica Falls really are unparalleled in the harmony department, and it's even more enjoyable because they usually use those pretty harmonies to sing about morbid, depressing things. And that juxtaposition never feels like a schtick to me, which it easily could in the wrong hands.

Bolbbalgan4 - Dream

I've gotten into quite a few songs because they were featured on kdramas, but this is the only song where it happened the other way around—I liked it first, then watched Hwarang because of it. There was a video for it on youtube with clips from the series and the song made the show seem more interesting. Not to imply anything negative about the series, I think there's a lot to be said for it. But it was this song that made me want to watch it. I love this kind of super emotional kpop song that's so plentiful in kdramas. Maybe it's because during the decades when rock music was de facto banned in South Korea the country's dominant genre was the ballad. Maybe it's because of that particular brand of despair that kdramas excel at so much, coming up in a slightly different setting. This type of song is just more emotional in a certain way that any other genre I've run across. And this particularly example is, to my mind, the pièce de résistance.

Shearwater - Breaking the Yearlings

This is one of the highlights of Animal Life, which is my favorite Shearwater album. It took me a while to warm up to Shearwater. The thing that really sold me on them was going on a whim to see Jonathan Meiburg play a solo acoustic set in front of a tiny audience at the Cactus Cafe. I think maybe some friends of mine opened for him or something, because something must have gotten me in the door. I ended up being really glad I went. Meiburg's set was downright mesmerizing, and I was sold on Shearwater from that point on. This particular song gets in my head a lot because the washing machine in my building puts out this one repetitive tone when you're starting a load of clothes that is really close to the opening notes of this song.

[artdecosupernova-writing]

Fictober '24 Prompt No. 4 — "No, we're not doing that."

Category: Original WIP: WASTE Rating: T Timeline: before the main events, I believe. pretty sure. CW: drug mentions Word Count: 1,120 Additional Notes: just a quick thing I slapped together. we'll say it's canon until I change my mind lmao

***

A man with enough reaver rock in his blood system to put down a large alien animal snarled and snapped at Dazia Fourteen, spittle flying everywhere, his teeth gnashing, and I can proudly say that the man was not, in fact, me.

I watched this happen from a distance, and I noted Dazia's demeanor—not once did she flinch, except maybe once when a glob of that spittle landed on her cheek. I know she views spitting on someone as one of the most disrespectful things you can do to a person, so I was only somewhat surprised to witness her then break her unwavering stare to punch the man in the throat. He went flying backward, slamming into the other junkies standing behind him, one or two of whom had nothing to do with this encounter at all.

The other junkies—the ones there to back up their buddy, anyway—scattered quite admirably, darting off in every direction imaginable, running into Node walls and slipping on pointedly non-slip floors. One tumbled onto the tracks of the tram some feet away, and Dazia bore down on the one that spat on her, her teeth bared and fist clenched with intent to beat the brains that weren't degraded by reaver rock out of his skull...if there were any left.

"No, no, we're not doing that," I muttered, striding to her and swinging her literally off her feet with an arm around her torso. Her entire body was tense, her muscles taut with the need to draw blood in brutal ways. "C'mon, baby girl, you're not gonna get bit by an addict today. Maybe tomorrow, where it can be controlled and pleasant for both of us."

As soon as she realized I'd interfered, she struggled against my hold. I kept a grip on her, impressively, until we were too far away from the situation to justify running back. I set her down, and she took a swing at me, and I ducked it, catching her next swing in my hand and pressing her back until she hit a bulkhead.

"Maybe don't knock out the only addict around here who still kind of has enough faculties to realize going against you is a colossal mistake," I grunted, keeping her at arm's length until she calmed significantly.

"You're not even supposed to be on duty today," she growled through her teeth, shaking me off of her.

I watched her dust off her leather jacket and adjust it so it fit how it was supposed to, and my eyes swept over her figure before I glanced behind me to make sure she didn't rile up any of the other junkies enough to light a fire under their asses and give chase.

"Yeah, when have I ever done what I'm told?" I turned back to her. "The fuck were you doing over there, anyway? Southern District is known almost exclusively for—"

"Yeah, you don't have to explain it to me," she snipped.

"—The less fortunate and the victims barely surviving the wrath of Oren Altavian, and I don't like to be interrupted, Miss Fourteen, if that is your real name."

"You know it's fucking not."

I narrowed my eyes imperceptibly at her. "What were you doing?"

Dazia hesitated here, which surprised me, but I didn't show it beyond lifting my eyebrows expectantly.

"It's not a mission," I continued, my voice low as I attempted to piece it together before she inevitably spilled. "You're not on duty now, either. Could you be looking for family? A loved one? Who do you know that's on reaver rock right now? It's not my business, but I'm gonna make it my business."

"Guetry," she sneered.

"And if you're mad at me for being complacent as Oren preyed on these poor people, I wouldn't blame you," I said, running a fingertip under my eye, smudging my dark liner. "Get in line, right behind me."

"Guetry."

The finality in her voice, the steel in her voice that caught the light outside the tram station, commanded my attention. I took in her set jaw and her flared nostrils, the tightness of her arms folded over her chest, and I straightened my spine.

"Yeah," I grunted, ire rising in my own chest. "Yeah, I'm clearly not gonna be here, am I?"

"You're here now, aren't you, Guetry? You were here to step in and save the day, weren't you?"

I grinned down at her at that, a humorless one I'd usually save for the likes of Oren. "Very cute. You're gonna lump me in with the unlucky ones? You think I'm just as bad a victim of Oren as them?"

"Are you gonna stand there and try to tell me you aren't?" Dazia growled. "You gonna try to sell me a fuckin' bridge, too?"

"Oh, baby, I know I'm not doin' so good," I purred, taking a step back and holding my hands up defensively. "Your mistake is thinking I'm new to this. You know how long I've been here? Do you understand that I was once Oren's actual partner in just about everything he's done, up to and including the kind that gets his rocks off, reaver and pleasurable alike?"

Dazia ran her teeth over her bottom lip as she scrutinized me, but she didn't respond for a while. "So if you're above where these people ended up, why are you here?"

I lowered my hands after running one through my hair, and I glanced over at the ruckus we'd been actively ignoring—the junkie that fell on the tracks had been knocked clear out and a tram was scheduled to arrive very soon. People of all species gathered around, cool and collected, to get the guy out before he was made into mincemeat.

I watched this happen with a slight frown, far into a well-dressed human kneeling beside the man as soon as he was lifted out and settled onto the platform. I recognized her...a woman who takes the tram from this station every day. Her job was to assist the addicts, to give them resources and assistance the government otherwise couldn't provide.

"Guetry," Dazia said gently after some time. "...You're not them."

"I am," I mutter, eventually peeling my gaze away from the scene. I shrugged stiffly. "That's me. Thing is, though...I've come to terms with that ages ago." I circled a finger tightly in the air. "Wish everybody else would fuckin' do the same."

I remembered her expression directly after that. I never forgot it, even when, months later, I ended up braindead for five months after a failed mission sent me spiraling into drinking a whole bottle of gin to chase the lethal amount of reaver rock I smoked.