#she’d be an awesome dm

[podsprout]

I

networking night

[moomine]

backwash II | daisuke

author's note: totally awesome people should check out part one as well ⍢ also, if you want to be part of a taglist for future updates feel free to reply or dm me! (cover image credit)

summary: (daisuke x f!reader) It's been a little over a month since the Tulpar departed on its 382-day long haul. Anya takes the reader aside to perform her monthly psych eval, where she discusses her experiences with her peers and life on the ship so far. After she's clear to go, she runs into Daisuke who's drawing in the lounge.

word count: 2,291

warnings: mild language? all characters are 18+

now playing: Radiohead - "Motion Picture Soundtrack"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

EMPLOYEE STATEMENT 028—

I’m starting to feel more and more homesick. I miss my mom’s roast chicken. I miss swimming pools and the feeling of the breeze. I miss burning incense. I miss my friends. It hasn’t been that long since we left Earth, but I guess I just never considered how still outer space would be. How lonely I’d feel. The others have been nice, yeah. Especially Anya. And Daisuke. I get the feeling that Captain Curly is still warming up to me. I wonder if he’s ever taken on another apprentice before. I don’t know about Swansea, or Jimmy. They seem to tolerate me at best. But then again, those two kind of just tolerate everyone, except for maybe Captain Curly. It’s only been almost a month. I just have to keep my head. 

If mom were here she’d say: “Everything gets easier with time. Time and patience.”

DAY TWENTY-SEVEN—

“Everything okay, [Name]?” Anya asked in a gentle tone, gingerly placing a hand on the table in front of you.

Your shoulders tensed at the sound of her voice as it filled the otherwise silent lounge. You looked up at her, feeling the tension seemingly wash away by the sight of her face. She offered you an understanding smile, her tired features softened as she looked down at you.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. Just lost in thought, I guess,” you responded. 

You raised a hand to rub your eyes. It had been difficult to find sleep lately. The groaning of the ship was almost haunting at night. Laying in your bed, staring at the ceiling, you spent the few hours allotted for sleep thinking about Earth, about what laid just beyond the door to your room, about the ceaseless whining of steel and steam. About the next three hundred and fifty four days.

Anya nodded sympathetically, moving her hand from the table top to your shoulder blade. “It gets easier. I promise,” she paused as Jimmy and Curly entered the room, their voices loud and booming. “Are you ready for your psych eval?”

You nearly didn’t hear her over the sound of the other two. They were reminiscing, shouting stories back and forth of college parties, bar fights, and past lovers.

“As I’ll ever be,” you said with a timid grin. 

Anya nodded once more, motioning toward the door just past the kitchen space. You came to your feet and followed her until the two of you made it to her domain. The medical bay had become a safe haven for you. Over the past month, you gravitated toward Anya the most. She had been kind to you from the very beginning, almost sisterly. When there was no more work to be done, you often found yourself walking straight through the lounge and into her office. Anya didn’t mind. In fact, she had grown to rather enjoy the company.

She walked around the desk before taking a seat in her chair. Behind her was a wall of white shelves and cabinets with glass doors. Inside they held assorted medical supplies and books on psychology and basic clinical practice. To the right of her was a bulletin board, cluttered with posters, a calendar, pictures of her hometown, and notes and reminders. A number of Daisuke’s doodles had made it up as well, namely ‘Yimpy’, a rather horrible caricature of Jimmy. It was pretty realistic.

You sat across from her with your hands interlocked in a tight ball. “Same as last time, right?”

Anya grinned as she organized your file. “Yep, same as last time. Since it’s only your second evaluation, I’m going to go over it one more time. Is that okay with you?”

You nodded.

“Lovely,” she said with a soft hum. Tapping the papers into a neat pile against the desk, Anya glanced at you once more. Her eyes flickered from the page to you, you to the page as she read aloud. “I’m going to ask you a series of questions about your experience, relationships, and general well being during your time under contract with Pony Express. It is your responsibility to answer as truthfully as you feel comfortable and/or deem necessary. Your answers remain confidential unless you give reason to believe you are at risk of harming yourself or others. Do you have any questions?”

“No questions here,” you replied with a shake of your head.

“Perfect. Let’s get started. On a scale of one to ten, how confident do you feel in your capability to complete your work and responsibilities on a day to day basis?” Anya read.

“Maybe eight? I’m still getting a hold of some of the more technical aspects. The Tulpar is an older ship… I wasn’t exactly trained on her special quirks in school,” you said with a nervous laugh.

“You’ll catch on fast. You already have,” she reassured, jotting down your response with that sweet smile still on her face. “Okay, next question. You mentioned last time that you’ve been having difficulty sleeping, is that still a relevant cause for concern?”

“I don’t know if it’s that concerning. I think I’m just having a hard time getting used to the new environment. It’s been getting easier to fall asleep though,” you responded. A little, white lie.

“I’m happy to hear that, [Name]. Your rest is important. I remember not being able to sleep at all during my first haul. I spent all night just tossing and turning, reading my books if I could focus on them long enough. It’s normal, but from the sound of it, you’re doing a great job adjusting.” Her gaze softened as she spoke. It was clear that she had grown to care for you quite quickly, and you did the same for her. “Only a couple more left to go…”

Anya listened intently while you answered each of her questions, taking the time to write down key details of your responses. Between questions, the sound of her pen etching against the paper filled the room. As Anya wrapped up the second to last question, your eyes wandered to the evening window screen. The warm orange and reds of the artificial sunset made the room look like it was on fire. You looked back to your hands, reaching up to take a piece of your hair and twist it between two fingers.

“All right,” Anya spoke up. “Last but not least, how do you feel about your relationships with the rest of the crew? Is there anything I should know about in particular?”

“No, I don’t think so. Everyone has treated me fine enough. Other than you, I’m still trying to get to know everyone better,” you said, still focused on your hair.

Another sympathetic smile graced Anya’s lips as she looked over at you. She knew how it felt to feel slightly out of place. “Look, I’m technically not supposed to tell you this, so you have to keep it a secret. Okay?” Anya let out a quiet laugh as you nodded quickly. She watched amused as you dropped your strand of hair and leaned in closer. “Daisuke mentioned during his eval that he wanted to get to know you more. Maybe you could try talking to him? You two have more in common than you might think.”

You looked down at your lap again, biting at the inside of your cheek. “Yeah, okay. Maybe I will.”

“Well, you’re all set. You’re free to go.” Anya closed the file and tucked it away alongside the others in her desk. “Thank you for your time, [Name]. I assume I’ll see you here tomorrow. Same time as usual?”

“Same time as usual,” you echoed, beaming as you got out of your chair and left the room.

From the hallway leading to the medical bay, you could tell that the lounge was quiet now. Curly and Jimmy must have wandered off elsewhere. It would have been completely silent if it weren’t for the subtle sound of pencil scratching coming from deeper within. As you entered the room you noticed Daisuke, hunched over the table as he sketched something in his sketchbook. Completely oblivious. You leaned against the doorway and watched from a distance for a moment, admiring as he tucked a tuft of fried brown hair behind his ear. 

“What are you drawing?” you questioned.

Daisuke jumped in his seat like a cat that had been snuck up on. His eyes shot to you, the surprise he felt immediately quelling into a tenuous excitement. He hastily closed his sketchbook —almost like he was hiding something— and smoothed out his hair. His mouth broke out into a wide, infectious smile, the gap in his two front teeth a thin ravine and the dimples on either side of his mouth tiny sinkholes.

“Me? Oh, y’know, just doodling,” he said, leaning back in his chair as if trying to act casual. “Where ya been? I couldn’t find- I mean, I didn’t see you back in the cockpit.”

“Psych eval.” You pointed over your shoulder with your thumb as you pushed yourself from the doorframe. “Can I see it?” you asked, walking up to the table and taking the seat across from him.

“Uhh… see what?” Daisuke asked in turn, voice coy and simultaneously flustered.

“Your doodles,” you responded with a laugh. “Only if you’re okay with that, obviously.”

“Oh! I mean, yeah. That’s like, totally fine. But, fair warning, they’re not that incredible or anything.” Reluctantly, Daisuke passed you his sketchbook. He looked rather bashful, cheeks slightly flushed and smile wavering.

“Hey, that’s not fair. I’ve seen your stuff on Anya’s corkboard. You’re really good.” You took the sketchbook in your hands, looking down at the cover of it. It was absolutely littered in a random assortment of stickers. Only through the few and far between gaps could you see that it was once a pure black. It looked much cooler now decorated with the various games, bands, and whatever else Daisuke liked. “Are you sure you don’t mind me looking? Again, it’s perfectly fine if you changed your mind.”

“Nah, it’s all good. Just don’t expect too much, ‘kay?” he replied, running a hand through his hair.

“No expectations,” you agreed.

You turned over the cover, revealing the first page. In red ink you read ‘if found please return to Daisuke, thank youuuuuu’, alongside it was a doodle of himself looking particularly grateful. Or maybe he was pleading. You chuckled under your breath and began flipping through the rest of the pages. Each one was filled with sketches and those increasingly familiar doodles of predominantly other people. Friends, maybe family, and characters from the different games he liked. His work wasn’t quite realistic, but not the most stylized either. Rather, it seemed to be a perfect mix of the two. Something entirely unique to him. To Daisuke.

The deeper you got into the book you started to spy familiar faces. Captain Curly, Swansea, Anya, even Jimmy, but mostly you. You glanced up at him, seeing that he was seemingly avoiding eye contact with you all together. His hand was still tangled within his hair, head turned to the side, and lips knitted into a fine line. That mole —high on his left cheek— stared at you more than his own eyes.

When you finally got to the last page you realized he hadn’t been doodling at all. Instead, there before you, in soft pencil sketching, was a portrait of you that Daisuke had drawn from memory. It wasn’t perfect, but it was incredibly detailed nevertheless. You held up the book, taking in the details with a look of awe on your face. He captured all of your little imperfections —the tilt of your eyes, the quirk in your smile, all of it. 

“Daisuke, these are actually so good!” you exclaimed, setting the book down and passing it back to him.

“You… you really think so?” He let out a breath of relief, finally looking at you again. “Man, I thought you would find them totally weird. I’ve been too scared to show anyone else but Anya.”

“Why would I think they’re weird?” you asked.

“Shit, I dunno…” Daisuke trailed off.

You shook your head. “You’re really talented.”

“I- Thank you,” he breathed. Daisuke’s face softened as you looked at him from across the table. The flush in his cheeks was barely noticeable, a fair pink dusting the peaks of his features. “Hey, I noticed you brought a Walkman on board with you. I never thought I’d actually see one of those things in the flesh.”

“Oh, yeah,” you laughed lightly. “It was a gift from my mom. It’s outdated as hell, but I’ve got a bunch of custom tapes back in my room. We should totally listen to them sometime.”

“Are you kidding? Dude, I’d love to-”

“Daisuke!” Swansea called from down the hall, cutting him off. He rounded the corner, sticking his head into the lounge with a sweaty brow. “There you are. Get your ass up, break time’s over. We’ve got work to finish up before dinner.”

Daisuke looked noticeably disappointed at the sight of Swansea. “But I-”

“No ‘buts’. C’mon now, I don’t have all day,” Swansea said with a huff before he turned around, walking back toward the utility room.

“Coming,” Daisuke sighed. He stood up, tucking his sketchbook under his arm with a slight frown. “Guess I’ll see ya later, [Name].”

“Yeah! I’ve got to show you some of my mixes, remember?” you responded sweetly, smiling up at him.

Daisuke nodded enthusiastically. As he left the room, he adopted a pep in his step. A smile was glued to his face as he beamed down the hall. The human embodiment of sunshine in that moment.

[kitteecassee]

MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION PLS ♡⁠

precious babies in need of home and some food pls nd tnku if you’re able to spare anything at all!

if you’re located not too far from Fort Lauderdale/Miami area and are interested in fostering/adopting any of these precious beans please dm my friend whose username is in the picture or me!! she drives all the way back to the shop she used to work at to feed these babes and with the new ownership coming to the building she has no idea how much longer she can continue to feed them so she’d like to find a home for each one that she can! ♡⁠

if you can send for some noms awesome! if you can’t that’s always okay, please reblog this post in case anyone else can and/or are interested in adoption! ♡⁠

(no notes other than emojis pls)

cash app: $casseeyjoseph

venmo: casseejoseph

thank you for reading (: ♡⁠

[teletunkie]

Tgcf mall au related words ⬇️

•San Niang sucks on her own hair as a nervous habit.

She probably has other ones but hair sucking is extra pathetic and makes her hair gross and crunchy sometimes and she’d kill herself if Xie Lian ever found out. Xie Lian, in reality, would not mind and would just be concerned about what was upsetting her San Niang.

•Beefleaf are t4t in this au

We’ve theorized that the “switching of fates” concept could be applied here as He Xuan having waited years on a waitlist for her bottom surgery only for swd to place one call and have sqx’s top surgery on that day instead. Just a theory, a game theory.

•San Niang and He Xuan have both been to juvie

San Niang probably for breaking and entering into the Xie family’s home after they fled/were killed followed by threat of a deadly weapon or something. Whatever makes her sentence 6 or so years long

He Xuan was framed by Shi Wudu but the specifics of the crime don’t really matter yknow… just important to note that she gets out when she’s 18

•San Niang is usually “cool and suave” (to Xie Lian, to everyone else she’s a jackass and kind of weird/disturbed) but very desperately wants to be Jiejie’s pet… hence the collar.

Puppy/kitty/fox girl-mode San Niang tends to sleep at the foot of the bed because it’s awesome for everyone’s boner that way… she is very embarrassed about being pathetic and soggy in front of Jiejie initially but it’s okay Xie Lian likes it and thinks it’s very cute

•Qi Rong is a rave-goer who… idk I’d have to come up with a 2006 version of “Night Touring Green Lantern” because that’s crazy but I’ve chosen to represent this with her and her camp exclusively using green glow sticks… yah.

Guzi is a just a lil gal and that’s awesome. Qi Rong probably dresses her in adult tshirts she’s stolen from other RVs….

•Chu Wanning and Mo Ran are in this au and they aren’t R63

Chu Wanning is both He Xuan and Hua Cheng’s…. Social worker? I don’t remember the specific title we gave him but yes he’s helped them get their an apartment and has also very sweetly tried to furnish it for them but he has no eye for aesthetic so it’s just a bunch of mismatched stuff. He Xuan probably doesn’t mind much and is grateful, San Niang is an asshole and is probably less grateful but won’t say anything… she’ll just refurnish the place herself when she’s got the money. Chu Wanning really cares about both of them though and is such a sweetheart everyone say thank you chu wanning 😭 it probably helps a lot that neither girl minds how standoffish and awkward he is… have you met them?

Mo Ran works at the footlocker with Feng Xin and they are PALS who HANG OUT WITH EACHOTHER ON THE WEEKEND/AFTER WORK. Individually they’ll probably give you decent customer service and send you home with a nice pair of shoes, together they will give you the makeover montage experience of a life time. Watch as two geniuses collaborate to have you walking outta there with the freshest shoes one can imagine. Mo Ran is probably a few years older than the Xianle trio and is just a cool guy… our txj tie in is that he’s also a massive sneaker head who gets into shady sneaker dealings…when that man puts his SnapBack on…you better watch yourself 😨 Mu Qing hates him and is very bothered that Feng Xin hangs out with him instead of her at times… the thing is is that they’re dog-coded so ofc they’re best of buds. We also had a conversation about Mu Qing being horrible to Chu Wanning because of course her rude judgemental ass would be but I really don’t remember the specifics… Anyways Mo Ran and Chu Wanning get to experience two very different sides of the tgcf crowd’s nonsense and definitely spill the hot goss over dinner every night

That’s kind of it for now… I spent way too long scrolling through dms to find specific scenarios we’ve discussed but couldn’t find what I was looking for so I’m sleepy tired now…. Feel free to ask questions, though I warn you that the au is at times dead dove and to proceed with some caution if that’s not your jam.

[willothewispwisteriadawn]

Until Dawn Character’s D&D game headcanons:

I saw some fanart a while back about how Chris got the group together to learn D&D to cope, after the events of the night. And it amused me because I believe Chris canonically plays/knows about D&D. He references it when calling himself “Spirit Master” during the seance. And the idea of this group playing Dungeons and Dragons amused me. I wrote this up a long time ago.

Chris/ DM, and he works hard to be an enjoyable one and to create a compelling experience; his overall story is pretty good. He does do that thing where he creates a villain or monster and it takes the players a while to realize it’s basically some stupid pop culture character built of D&D terms. Or the group will realize that an entire side quest amounted to a stupid pun.

Sam/ Chose to be a wood elf druid. She was stoked when Chris mentioned animal companions. She has a black bear, and she wrote more lore for her bear than her own character. She brings healthy snacks to the sessions. She is usually the one to call the session in favor of sleep and tries to deescalate fights when she can.

Josh/ Chose to be a half-orc bard because it amused him (he’s an artificer the next time he builds a character, though). He wrote a very detailed, violent, tragic backstory that made the rest of the group a bit worried. Frequently, he goes “Okay but can I—”then proceeds to give a completely outside-the-box and wacky plan to Chris, and Chris has to scramble to figure out how to react to that. Josh ended up getting the group to move from Chris’s house to his house, and then he created a super awesome setup for them with a screen built into the table and a cool sound system and everything. He will often ask to seduce monsters.

Emily/ Picked a human rogue. She acts like the whole thing annoys her, but has picked up the game really quickly and is very adamant about her opinions while playing. Several times every sessions, she goes: “DO A PERCEPTION CHECK!!” She wants to be the one to divide loot because she feels like she knows who it should go to best.

Mike/ Chose to be a dragonborn paladin and was super enthused about how cool it sounded. He rushes into things and, typically, it actually works. But once, he initiated with an enemy way above their levels because “Come on guys, we can do it,” and Emily died. She was so mad that she wouldn’t play for a month. Mike tries to seduce female enemies and random NPCs all the time. He probably has a wolf companion.

Ashley/ Chose to be a changeling bard. This caused a fight between her and Josh. They kept arguing about who could be the bard until Chris assured them that they could both be bards. She wrote the most well-conceived backstory for her character. Chris subtly flirts with her through the NPCs.

Matt/ A human fighter. He’s not so sure what’s going on a lot of the time, but is happy to be there and very pleasant to the NPCs. He spams the same bludgeoning attack each round. He chooses to be a human fighter each time he has to make a new character. Note: Emily chose to be human because she liked the versatility of the race. Matt chose human because he’s a human in real life.

Jess/ She’s a fairy cleric. She completely picks favorites and heals Mike at a disproportionate rate to the others (if this happens while Emily is still dating Mike, then she’d be saving Emily a lot. Because Em is her girl). She frequently likes to describe how hot her character is.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Light on the Darkside - Chapter Twenty One.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 3,849

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

“Babe, if you get glue on my seats, your arse is getting slapped. Or bitten.” 

Ella’s lips pursed, slowly curling into a grin as she looked out from beneath her lashes at him. “Don’t you threaten me with a good time.” 

He chuckled filthily, very much looking forward to having a night in a hotel with his wife, where he could make as much noise as he liked while having sex with her, all while feeling the long, dark red false nails she was glueing on shredding his back to pieces.  

“Just you wait, princess. You’re gonna be sore.” 

“What are you two grinning about?” Lyra suddenly spoke from the backseat, removing her headphones to detangle the wire, Freya asleep next to her (as per the usual with any car journey lasting over fifteen minutes) and Zara reading while her i-Pod blared.  

“Nothing your ears need to be picking up on,” James confirmed, unable to keep the smirk from his face. 

“Is this about auntie Andrea accidentally answering the phone while she was... you know... with uncle Steve this morning?”  

He barked a laugh, still entertained at her gaffe of rolling over on her phone and ending up giving James a live action rendition of her sexual howling, only aware of such after hearing his voice boom “G’won, Ands! Give it some, darlin’!” from the phone’s speaker. Lyra only knew because she’d walked into the kitchen at the same time her dad was relaying the hilarity to her mum. “Nah, not about them.” 

“Old people shouldn’t be having sex still, it’s disgusting,” she snorted, her eyes then rapidly flitting between her parents. “Wait. You two don’t still... do you?” 

James shared a side eye with Ella, unable to fully bite back the wide grin. “Number one; we’re all late thirties and early forties, not dead. And number two; you know when we ask you to keep an eye on your sisters of a Saturday morning? Guess what we’re doing?” 

There was a pause, Lyra curling her lip in the exact same way her father did too when he was displeased. “Ugh! So that means you were doing it this morning? That’s so wrong!”  

“What?” he exclaimed, his laughter filling the car. “How’d you think you three got here in the first place? Massive amounts of banging your mum, innit.” 

“Dad!” 

“I’d do it more often if I wasn’t so busy.” 

“Dad, stop it!” 

His laughter only escalated further, Lyra frowning deeply, Ella hiding her face behind her hands. “Okay, enough mortifying our eldest, baby,” she finally spoke, reaching to squeeze his thigh.  

“What? That was tame compared to what I could have said,” he shrugged, snorting again when Lyra made a whining noise in the back. 

“Are we far from auntie Mary’s? I don’t mind getting out to walk,” she bargained, James gesturing around himself with an outstretched hand. 

“Yeah, monster. Pedestrians are a real common thing on the effing motorway, ain’t they?” he snorted. 

Putting her headphones on again, she frowned heavily. “Why’s my dad have to be like this?”  

“Because I’m shitting awesome!” he chuckled, not that Lyra could hear, the sound of who he recognised to be black metal band Satyricon blaring loudly through her headphones again. At least two out of three of his offspring had picked up his taste in music. No prizes for guessing that the second was Freya.  

Although Ella’s tastes had changed drastically over the years, now listening to a whole host of alternative music as well as her beloved dance, the black sheep of the family where music was concerned was most definitely Zara, being a little pop princess. The other two, though, they lived and breathed metal.  

It also gave their eldest severe bragging rights with her friends, her little group of die-hard metalheads all amazed over who her dad was, and who she got to hang out with backstage at festivals every summer since she’d been a baby. There weren’t very many twelve-year-olds who could boast that they’d sat on the shoulders of Nergal, frontman from extreme metal band Behemoth and good friend of her parents, while watching their dad on stage at Hellfest.  

Ten minutes after leaving the M6 and they were pulling into the new-build estate on the outskirts of Glenfield in Leicestershire, where Mary now lived. Even though she was no longer in Warwickshire, it was actually closer, just half an hour up the motorway from their home in Atherstone.  

Pulling into her driveway, the lady herself opened the front door with her usual huge, beaming grin, padding out in her slippers. “Where’s me kids?” she announced, receiving three huge smiles after opening the back of the truck, unclipping Freya from her car seat and bundling her into a hug. “Hello, my little peach! Hello!”  

“Auntie Mary, I made fire!” 

“Ya’s never did, pet! If we gave you matches, there’d be nothing left, like!” she laughed, tickling her. 

“I might’ve let her put lighter fluid onto the fire pit yesterday when I was burning a load of old wood,” James confirmed, scratching his chin. “She might’ve sprayed on a bit too much, innit.” 

“How big were the flames?” 

He snorted, still entertained. “About four and a half feet.”  

She threw her head back, laughing hard as she imagined it, James moving to give her a hug and kiss. “Eee, I meant to ask ya’s, how’s ya mam getting on at the moment with her hip?” 

“Finally got a date for the op. I’m taking her up there on Tuesday morning for the pre-surgery meeting and all that.” A life of activity, especially horse riding and running around an arena for eleven hours a day while she’d taught others how to ride had left Alice with an issue in her left hip, with it being decreed she would need a full replacement.  

“Well, give her me best won’t you, sweetheart. I know how it is with having both of mine done,” Mary spoke, greeting the other two girls with warm cuddles and kisses, Ella too. “Now, have ya’s got time for a cuppa, or are you shooting off?” 

“I will, and yeah, we’ve gotta shift off, unfortunately. Need to get moving before we get stuck in piles of weekend traffic.” James confirmed, moving to begin taking the girls bags from the back of his truck. With their parents hugged goodbye, the kids all ran into Mary’s house, ready for a weekend that usually involved films, lots of sweets and camping out with her in the lounge. As for her parents... 

“Right! Let’s go do this, babe! Let’s go eat too much, drink too much, and I don’t think there’s any such thing as too much sex, but let’s give a shitting good go, innit, Mrs. K?” James spoke as soon as they got back into his truck, waving goodbye before roaring off, motorway bound.  

Their next stop was back the way they’d came to collect Steve and Andrea, the four not seeing the sense in taking two cars on the same route when they lived so close by. As soon as James saw his best friend’s wife emerge from the house when they pulled up twenty minutes later... 

“Alright, porn princess! Should have charged me by the minute for that this morning!” 

Andrea hid her face, Steve guffawing behind her. “Oh, fuck right off, James!” 

“What? Sounded like you were giving the old man a right good seeing to! It’s a dirty job but someone’s gotta do it!” 

“Oi, less of your mouth, sunshine,” Steve warned, sliding back the cover on the rear of the truck and putting their bags in. “I’ve already had one gobby shit to deal with this morning!” 

“Wolf?” It usually was their youngest, the five-year-old child exactly as mouthy as his father was capable of being.  

“However did you bloody guess?” he spoke, climbing into the back of the truck and clipping his seatbelt in. “So, I’ve took ‘em up Sainsbury’s this morning to get them snacks and stuff on the way to their grandmas, and we’re waiting in the queue when all of a sudden, he shouts ‘look daddy, it’s Batman!’ I’ve turned around, yeah, and he’s pointing right at this poor Muslim woman wearing all the garb,” he began. 

“A burqa,” Andrea filled in. 

“That’s it, one of them! And he wouldn’t shut up about it, fucking Logan chipping in an’ all, asking her if they could go to the bat cave! Thank fuck the woman in question thought it was hilarious, said it was nice to be profiled as a superhero rather than a terrorist for once. Nah man. Them kids. Fucking mortify me every second of the day!” he laughed, James exploding as he turned right at the end of the road. Wolf was nothing if not complete hilarity.  

“That’s top grade funny, man,” he began, wincing a tiny bit thereafter. “I feel bad for that woman, though. Poor bird can’t even dress how she wants to without being accused of all that bollocks. I bet Batman really did make a welcome change, innit.” 

“Nothing will ever beat Freya and that poor woman who’d had her arms amputated, screaming ‘are you the Venus de Milo?’ at her across the beach in Newquay,” Andrea began to hiss, her scream giggle filling the car. 

Ella turned with wide eyes. “I have never been so bleedin’ embarrassed by her mouth. Thank god the woman found it as hilarious as she did!” It was indeed lucky that most people understood the innocently unfiltered nature of children. At the mention of the event, James and Steve roared, the former remembering how he’d had to abscond to the sea to have a few moments to laugh it out. He’d been impressed, though, that at two years old Freya had remembered the name for the famous armless statue.  

A drive of four hours got them to the capital, the four checking in at their hotel before hopping in a black cab to get over to Camden, where the food festival was taking place. 

“How’s them fleas doing, dickhead?” James spoke over Snedders’s shoulder, kissing his cheek as the drummer turned to eye him disapprovingly.  

“My fleas are pedigree, I’ll have you know, Jim,” he replied, giving his mate a big hug in welcome. “Happy birthday for Thursday, you old bastard. Here, Nell got a round in, for once.” 

“Oi!” his new wife exclaimed as she released Ella from her hug of greeting, passing James a pint while pointing at Snedders. “Gonna catch a fist to the chops for your mouth, Liam.” 

It was still bizarre, hearing anyone refer to him by his actual name. Snedders, Sneds, flea circus, or uncle Ginge, as James’s kids liked to refer to him as. “Aw, Jim mate, there’s a place over there doing a challenge. If you can finish the Carolina Reaper chili fries, you win a hundred quid and your food for free. Said to the missus as soon as I saw ‘em, I said, our Jim’ll be up for that.” 

James nodded, grabbing Ella’s hand. “Easy fucking money, my friend.” Taking their drinks with them, they all walked over to the truck in question, James requesting the aforementioned fries.  

“I think you’re about to lose a hundred quid,” his wife spoke, eyeing her husband with a grin. “He eats phal curries and doesn’t even flinch.” 

The man heaping chilli over the fries smirked in a way that should have made James feel much more worried than he did. “A phal scores one point two million on the Scoville scale. Carolina Reaper’s are at one point six million. Best of luck, buddy.” 

Taking the fries, he dug the fork in, eating the first mouthful with relative ease. Then the second. That was when the spice kicked in. “Shitting hell, that’s a bit warm, innit?” 

Blowing out a long breath, he frowned, continuing to eat. “Mother fucking hell, that’s proper aggressive!” His friends all laughed, never before seeing him react in such a way to spicy food. 

“Good freakin�� god,” Ella chuckled, “has my baby met his match?” 

“Never!” Another mouthful was forked in. 

“I think the wife is right, mate. Is the cast iron stomach about to be defeated?” Steve spoke, wiping a tiny bit of the sauce from the side of the tray and popping his finger into his mouth. His eyes nearly exited his skull. “Nah! What the fuck? Oi mate, did you get that from a fucking volcano?” he cried at the vendor, coughing, quick to down half of his pint.  

“I can finish!” James vouched, another mouthful going in at he felt his face beginning to bead with sweat, turning to Ella. “Wanna try a bit, darlin’?” 

“No. Big time no, baby. You enjoy it,” she spoke, shaking her head in wonder. The things he put himself through. Truly, he didn’t need the hundred pounds, but James being James, he wanted the bragging rights. Even though his mouth felt like the epicentre of a blast furnace. 

“Mate, your arse is gonna be like the gates of hell tomorrow morning,” Snedders chimed, hardly able to believe he’d finished half of the food already.  

“I’ll worry about that then!” On he continued, a few people gathering to watch until much to the disbelief of the people who had served him the meal, he finished it entirely. It was not without feeling like his head was about to explode, though, the meal perhaps the most painful he’d ever eaten.  

“Here, bud, have that. Well done!” the vendor spoke, handing him a glass of milk as well as five twenty-pound notes, the small assembled crowd applauding his success. With the glass of milk downed, his mouth began to tingle a little less, James heading to the toilet portacabins to wash his hands and mouth, making sure he had every last trace of spice rinsed away.   

The rest of the group chose much less violently spicy foods, Ella almost choking on hers as she attempted to take a bite of the chicken gyros stuffed flatbread. 

“G’won, gorgeous,” James nodded, “you’re used to wrapping your mouth around way bigger things than that!” 

“What, before she got with you, Jim?” Steve couldn’t help but chirp, grinning widely as Ella’s laughter failed her attempt at a bite. James gave him the death glare, as standard. 

“Shut your hole!” she pointed at her husband. “And you!”  

“What?” Steve chuckled, “just sympathising with your plight, honey!” 

Ella grinned, winking. "Don't you worry, mate. I married very well in that respect.” 

Her husband beamed, aiming a raised middle finger at Steve. “That’s fucking told you, innit?” 

“How’s your mouth now?” she asked, Steve distracted by Andrea bringing him a drink.  

“Like I’ve got a fuckload of angry bees stinging my tongue, but getting better.” he admitted. God, it really had been a painful eat. It tasted amazing, though, he had to admit. The full entourage had arrived with them after a further hour, Jane and her husband, Sam and her boyfriend, as well as Dan (hilariously with a girl he’d picked up on the train down there) and finally Gaz and Hester.  

Of course, her dalliance with Steve had ended the moment he’d become acquainted with Andrea, and with Gaz and Jane never being anything more than a one night stand all those years ago, eventually the pair had struck up a connection, marrying five years before and now with their first child on the way.  

“Sorry we’re a bit late, Jim,” Gaz began, greeting him with a hug, “had to pull over about five times on the hard shoulder so this one could honk her guts up!”  

Yes, Hester was suffering severe morning sickness, which she felt to be a very unfair description since with her, it could often last all day.  

“Bit queasy, eh, Hest?” James spoke, kissing her cheek. 

“Oh god, darl. I feel like death. But I’m here, raising a glass of pop to your status as a forty-year-old!” 

“Stop shitting reminding me.” he muttered, Hester laughing as she held a soft hand to her tiny bump. While she gravitated over to where the other women grouped together, Steve and James decided to have a little fun at her husband’s expense.  

“Telling ya now, mate,” the former began, swigging his pint of Guinness, “you will never know rage like that of your wife in labour. It ain’t beautiful and it ain’t serene, no matter what they tell you.” 

His eyes widened a little. “Seriously?” 

“Oh, yeah,” James began, pointing at Ella. “The number of times she threatened to cut my bollocks off with the first two. They get vexed and I’m telling you, man, you will be enemy number one for knocking ‘em up in the first place, innit.” 

“Hold on,” Gaz spoke, scratching his head, “didn’t you say it was great with Freya?” 

“Yeah, yeah with her it was fucking over and done within a few hours. Proper speed birth. We were in at 5am, the destroyer of worlds flies out four hours later and by five in the afternoon we were on our way home again. But that was just her. Thirty-nine hours with Lyra and nineteen with Zara. Screaming, shouting and blood everywhere. I lost the feeling in my right arm for two weeks from where she bit down on it, but you gotta do what you gotta do, mate.” 

He gulped, his friends absolutely falling to pieces laughing. “Just giving you a heads up an’ all that!” Steve spoke, gripping Gaz’s shoulder and giving him a little shake. “And then, my friend, then there’s everything that comes after it! Ya get roughly twenty minutes of sleep at any given time when they’re babies, all while being shit on, pissed on and thrown up on by the new tiny overlord of the house.” 

“And you can forget being able to have any relaxing time, like taking a bath on your own unless you go after they’ve gone to bed,” James added, shaking his head. “They have no clue over personal space so they will dive all over you and kick you in the balls. How Freya ain’t fucking neutered me by now, I dunno, man.” 

Steve laughed hard, licking Guinness foam from his top lip. “She still throwing herself in with ya, yeah?” 

“Yeah! Get a fuckload of bath toys lobbed at my bloody head, stood all over, hair fucked around with. Only time she’s bearable is when she’s knackered and then she curls up on my chest and falls asleep. Then I’m stuck there in the bath with the chaos of the night fast asleep, and I can’t call for Ella or I’ll wake her up. So, I’ve gotta try and get out, not drop the wet child on her fucking head, get her dry, pyjamas on, put her in bed and then get back to my stone-cold bath for all of five minutes before she wakes up and comes steaming in again, gabbling her nonsense.” 

“See, that isn’t putting me off much, because Freya is a fucking riot. I’d love a girl if she was like her,” Gaz spoke, laughing as he remembered the various escapades of the tiny demoness of darkness. 

James pointed at him, arching an eyebrow. “Everyone says this, but living with the right honourable princess of doom is another matter entirely. With the screaming and the using my back as a trampoline, kicking me in the dick and yanking my hair, the bathtime invasions, trying to get in the bedroom when I’m trying to get in her mother, the wailing fits, hiding my keys so I can’t go out without her, trying to assemble her own murder of crows by yelling at them at five in the morning, yanking my piercings out, colouring in my tattoos, threatening strangers with witchcraft and in general, being more mental than anything I saw when I was sectioned!” 

Steve and Gaz were in hysterics by the time he took a deep breath after rattling off the list. “But you wouldn’t change her for anything, right?” the latter spoke.  

Change the destroyer of worlds, the commander of the army of the dead? “Nah mate. She’s top grade amazing.” 

“Threatening someone with witchcraft, shit, that’s quality!” Steve guffawed, James nodding vigorously. 

“Didn’t like being smiled at by the nice lady in Sainsbury’s, so screamed that she would, and I quote, ‘do a black magic on you!’ while I’m just standing there, face palming myself to death and trying to think of ways I can shut her up. Ain’t easily done. Even if you cram a lolly in her gob, she’s still loud. It’s just muffled noise.” 

How time had changed the men. Twenty years before and they’d have been standing there talking about women, usually. Now there they were, married fathers, chatting happily about their kids. “Still, though, nobody beats Wolf threatening to blood eagle that fella at the zoo for telling him not to try and climb into the lion enclosure.” 

Steve threw his head back, booming a laugh. “Yeah, and me carrying him away by the arse of his jeans, explaining that it isn’t eight hundred AD and he ain’t a Viking either.” 

Indeed, the tiny versions of them where, whether Steve or James truly wanted to admit it or not, chips right off of their blocks. Hearing his phone beep, the latter pulled it from his jacket, opening up a picture message from Mary. There they were, the three little people who his heart thrummed endlessly for, covered in cake batter and beaming widely.  

He kept it to himself that he’d only been gone from them for six hours, but already, he missed them. Becoming a father was one of the best things he’d ever done, after the happy accident that was Lyra’s conception, making him a dad much sooner than he expected he would be at twenty-seven. Since then, the urge to breed had collared him strongly, to worship his wife’s body as he spilled into her, gave her another two babies, that urge still existing within him.  

They’d said they’d stop at three, and mostly he was content with that, but there was nothing more beautiful to his eyes than seeing Ella pregnant. She’d glowed with sheer radiance throughout each of her pregnancies, thriving as she’d carried his daughters, James unable to keep his hands off her. Nobody thrived on sex quite like a horny pregnant woman.  

Except maybe two parents who found themselves child free and drunk later that night, James ducking down and throwing Ella over his shoulder as they walked across the quiet hotel foyer.  

“Been a while since I’ve thrown you over my shoulder, Mrs. K,” he chuckled, smacking her bum and pressing the button for the lift to descend.  

“It’s throwing me around the bedroom I’m more invested in the idea of,” she spoke as he stepped in, placing her back down on her feet. 

Leaning to her, his lips pressed soft to hers, hands roaming over her hungrily. “Yeah. You can definitely count on that, innit.”  

[hannahmanderr]

DannyMay Day 3 - Blizzard

slowly, she starts to catch up lol

Words: 1,947

Summary: The kids of Amity Park receive a cryptic message telling them to come to the park one July day. Of course they're gonna do it! (FFN)

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Brooke bounced on the balls of his feet. “Are you sure you have the time right?”

His twin - his older twin, as she loved to remind him - scowled. “You’ve asked me, like, a million times already! I swear it said 3:00!”

Well, Brooke’s watch said it was 3:08. Judging by the number of other kids milling about the park, they did have the right time, but as it got later and later, he couldn’t help but be paranoid. 

Plus he felt stupid dragging his boots, coat, and sled around the park. He wasn’t the only one, of course - almost every kid in Amity’s Park at the moment was lugging around snow gear of some sort. Most kids just had boots and pants and coats, although a good handful also had sleds and had dumped their gear in them. One boy Brooke recognized from the fourth grade had one of those awesome-looking snow innertubes with him.

So yeah, he wasn’t the only one with his cold weather stuff by any means.

Except it was the middle of July, and it was 85 degrees out with a thunderstorm on the horizon. So he still felt stupid.

“Pleeeeease, Maeve?” he whined. “Just check one more time for me?”

“Ugh!” Maeve said, throwing her hands up in the air. “If you hadn’t gotten grounded for messing up Mom’s garden, you wouldn’t be asking me every five seconds.” Grumbling under her breath, she dug in her pocket and pulled out her phone. She didn’t have to scroll to get to the message. She’d already had it pulled up from the last five times he’d asked to see it.

“Look, see? 3:00, just like I said.” She jabbed the phone at Brooke with a smug grin. He took it, even though he’d already read the message dozens of times himself.

Calling all AP kids! Come to Amity’s Park this Saturday at 3:00 pm for a surprise you won’t want to miss! Only requirement is to bring your snow gear - I’ll handle the rest! ;)

The message had gone out on nearly every social media site a kid would be found on. Rumors had even circulated that a bunch of the middle and high schoolers got it emailed, texted, or DM-ed to them directly. He and Maeve weren’t so lucky, especially only being fifth graders. One of his friends had texted it to him after their older brother had shown it to them, and he’d proceeded to show it to Maeve. 

The message had been sent out on Monday. By Wednesday it’d seemed that every kid in Amity Park, kindergarten through 12th grade, had seen it.

Of course, the adults saw it too. A lot of them had worried that whoever sent the message was planning on doing something horrible, with so many kids in one place. The friend who’d texted Brooke said that supposedly, the Fentons had immediately pegged it as a ghost’s evil plot. Brooke didn’t know if he believed that. True, he hadn’t been through a bunch of ghost attacks or anything - they usually stayed near the high school, not the elementary school - but this didn’t seem like some evil plot.

Still though, he knew a lot of kids whose parents had forbidden them from following the message’s invitation. At least three of his friends in his group chat hadn’t been allowed to come. And even then, a lot of parents had refused to let their kids come alone, Brooke’s and Maeve’s being in that group. Their dad was sitting on a bench a short distance away, although many parents didn’t even let their kids leave their side.

It made for a weird sight, though definitely not the weirdest Amity Park had seen. A bunch of anxious adults and a slew of kids towing their winter stuff in the middle of July. No, definitely not to the level of Amity Park weird.

Brooke handed the phone back to Maeve. “Maybe it’s a prank?” he said. The words came out timid. He was a ten year old boy - of course he loved surprises. Especially ones just for the kids! No one ever did anything special for kids. To think it was all just some cruel setup crushed his spirits.

“I don’t think so,” Maeve said. She pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It’d be a dumb prank. Like who would even want to get a bunch of kids in the middle of the park all for nothing? It’s not even funny.”

“Someone could have done it just to be mean.”

“I don’t think so,” she repeated. “There’s a million other things someone could do to be mean.”

Brooke’s watch ticked over to 3:10. He stole a glance at their dad, who was watching the two of them like a hawk. “You don’t think a ghost did it, do you?” he asked. He hit himself mentally for letting his voice waver. He tried to appear brave in the face of ghosts and their attacks, but he was secretly pretty terrified of them. Except Phantom, of course. Phantom was cool. But he wouldn’t admit his fears out loud to anyone, least of all his sister. He was ten, ten-year-olds weren’t supposed to be scared of things like ghosts.

Maeve furrowed her brow. “Probably not?” The way she said it definitely sounded more like a question than anything. Less confident than she’d sounded before.

“What if it is a ghost?” he pressed. Usually his sister was very sure of herself, like annoyingly so. To hear her being unsure didn’t exactly alleviate his concerns. “How would we even know?”

He got his answer when a shriek erupted from behind him.

Every head in the park turned towards the sound. Parents instinctively lunged to shield their kids. Most of the older teenagers seemed more annoyed than anything. Brooke’s eyes landed on a tiny girl bouncing up and down, pointing at something in the sky. Squinting, he realized something dark was streaking through the air, rising straight up from the horizon.

He caught a glimpse of something much lighter against the dark. “Wait a sec,” he said, realization dawning on him. “Is that…?”

“It’s Phantom!” Maeve squealed. Brooke resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His twin, just like every other girl in Amity Park it seemed, always ended up acting like, well, girls when it came to Phantom. At the same time, he couldn’t exactly blame her. A real life superhero in his hometown? Of course it was something worth getting excited about!

The dark blur shifted course and made a beeline for the park. Sure enough, Danny Phantom’s stark white hair and signature emblem came into focus. Kids began whooping and hollering as they too realized that the ghost boy himself was on his way. Some of the parents relaxed a bit once they realized who it was. Brooke’s heart began to pound. On one hand, it was always thrilling to see his hero up close and in action, but on the other, Phantom really only ever showed up if another ghost was causing trouble. Did that mean the invitation really was a ghost’s scam?

But there was something else, too. Phantom was flying just beneath the low hanging clouds, one arm extended up and to the side. Some sort of blue mist trailed behind his hand and drifted up into the clouds. He cleared the length of the park in a matter of seconds, but then he doubled back and began flying the length again.

“What’s he doing?” Brooke wondered aloud. It was definitely bizarre behavior, even for a ghost superhero.

Maeve had her phone’s camera angled up towards Phantom. “Who cares?” she said with a wide grin. “Keira’s gonna be so jealous! Her mom wouldn’t let her come today!”

The cheers started to die away as Phantom continued his methodical back-and-forth flying, although some of the braver kids kept trying to shout praises and questions at him. He never stopped, although he acknowledged the crowd with a shy wave at one point.

As he continued to fly, Brooke began to notice the temperature cooling rapidly. Goosebumps emerged as the sweat on his arms evaporated. He shivered and grabbed his coat out of his sled. Seriously, what the heck was happening?

When his watch ticked over to 3:13, Phantom stopped abruptly. He held his hands out in front of him, and a grin suddenly broke out across his face. Drifting down closer to the crowd, he shouted, “Anyone wanna join me for a snowball fight?”

Brooke and Maeve exchanged glances. “He’s kidding, right?” Brooke said, frowning.

Maeve’s face mirrored his. “I don’t know,” she admitted, keeping her phone trained on Phantom even as she started to shiver from the dropping temperature. “I mean he likes to pull pranks and stuff on other ghosts, but it’s kind of weird for him to pull a prank on us.”

Some of the younger kids had started jumping up and down, shouting, “Me! Me!” Brooke had a feeling they didn’t exactly understand the absurdity of what Phantom had said; they just knew it was him saying it, and so they got excited.

Phantom’s grin grew wider. He cupped his hands together, and a perfectly round snowball formed in them. He leaned down even closer to the ground to hand it to a little boy, who took it and gaped at it as if he’d just been handed a huge diamond. Some of the kids around the boy craned their necks to see the snowball, but most began clamoring for their own.

Brooke’s own excitement immediately grew, though he was held back by one thought. “I still don’t get it,” he said to no one in particular.

“Um, Brooke?” Maeve said.

“I mean Phantom’s super awesome and stuff, but how is he gonna make enough snowballs for everyone without it taking forever?”

“Brooke,” Maeve repeated, this time more insistently.

“Can he do it any faster? Or make more at once? Like look how many kids are already there, and there’s still -”

“Brooke!” Maeve shouted, this time elbowing her brother in the side. “Will you look already?”

She was pointing up. Brooke looked, and to his wonder, he saw snow fluttering down.

“No way,” he breathed. “Phantom made it snow?”

Maeve laughed. “No way!” she echoed. “It’s July! I so have to figure out how to post this somewhere, kids are gonna be so jealous!”

Slowly, the other people in the park began to notice the snow falling faster and faster. Kids were pulling on jackets and boots with barely contained excitement, and parents tried to huddle in what little extra clothing they’d brought. The kids closest to Phantom, trying to get snowballs from him, took the longest to notice, and when they finally did, many began scooping together the bits of snow accumulating on the ground to form their own snowballs.

Brooke finally couldn’t control himself any more. Laughing, he ran forward and also began collecting snow. A snowball fight with Phantom? In the middle of July? How much more awesome of a surprise could it be?

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“So, I take it things went well?” Tucker asked with a grin as Danny finally managed to break away from the throng of kids who’d decided to team up against him and try and take him down with a giant snowball.

Danny’s face shone brightly as he shook excess snow from his hair. “They were asking me if we could do it again next week,” he said. “I couldn’t say no to them!”

Tucker shook his head, laughing. “You’re gonna have to get Frostbite to teach you how to make a lot more snow, man.”

[kanerallels]

Day four of @kaneraweek is here, and with it, my fourth fic! It's absolutely insane to think that we're already this far into the week, but it's been awesome so far! This one is a follow up of sorts to day two

Read on AO3!

Taglist: @laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @day-to-day-thots @heckin-music-dork @firefoxtessa @auroramagpie @cassie-fanfics @opalknight (DM me if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!)

The plan had been for them to pick up supplies— that was all. Just land, grab the supplies, and get going. But Hera was starting to learn that almost nothing went to plan where the Empire, to say nothing of her crew, was concerned.

So she was almost unsurprised when a group of raiders showed up and told them to relinquish their supplies, or they wouldn’t be leaving this planet alive.

And now, here she was. Crouched behind a crate next to Kanan and a few yards away from Zeb, wielding her blaster and ducking red bolts as they zipped past her.

Fairly typical for her life, if she was being honest.

Glancing up, she met Kanan’s gaze. Lifting an eyebrow, he said, “You never take me anywhere nice.”

“As I recall, this was your plan, dear,” Hera shot back.

“Knew there had to be some way this was my fault,” Kanan said, darting up to take a shot at one of their opponents. Ducking back down, he said, “It made sense at the time.”

“Well, figure out one that makes sense now,” Hera told him, peering over the rim of the crate. “Because there’s no way we’re going to make it back to the Ghost in one piece without one.”

He still hadn’t made it back to the Ghost. 

Hera pushed aside her concern mingled with irritation for what felt like the hundredth time that evening, and focused on rewiring the console in front of her instead.

But it wouldn’t completely go away. When Kanan had asked for a little time off that night, she had assumed it meant… well, she wasn’t quite sure. But he’d left that afternoon, and there was no sign of him. And when Hera remembered what day it was…

She’d seen him handle Empire Day poorly before. Namely, last year, when he’d gotten drunk and blown the op they were planning to pieces, endangering both of their lives. Hera had been furious— more than that, she’d been frightened. She’d seen Kanan drink before, but not like that day.

Luckily, her reaction had hit Kanan hard. Hard enough that he hadn’t drunk since then. There had been some rough days between then and now, but she was proud of him. Proud of him for fighting the addiction he’d let control him for so long.

But now… he was gone. Hera hadn’t planned an op for today specifically in case of something like this, but she hadn’t really expected it. Kanan had promised her it was over, and she’d wanted— needed to believe him. 

But what if that need had blinded her?

A clatter down in the entry bay caught Hera’s attention, and she rose to her feet, heading down the hall with her heart pounding. If it was him, then things could be about to get ugly.

Force, she didn’t want that.

Reaching the balcony above the cargo bay, she looked down and saw Kanan facing the wall, hand pressed against it as if to hold him steady. Oh, no.

“Where have you been?” Hera knew her voice was harsh, but she couldn’t quite prevent herself from snapping. Because she’d been scared, and she still was. She was terrified that she was right.

“Out. Sorry, I didn’t mean for you to worry.” Kanan’s voice was… not quite slurred. But still off enough that Hera’s heart plunged. “I, uh, I’ll be in my room.”

He took a step towards the ladder, then stumbled just enough that the light caught his face. Hera’s eyes went wide. “Kanan!”

“Hey, Kanan!”

Hera followed the sound of Zeb’s shout to where the Lasat was waving to them. He had his bo-rifle at the ready, and nodded at where their attackers were firing on them. “Got any ideas?”

“None that are any good,” Kanan called back. He paused, his eyes narrowing, and Hera knew his mind was racing. Finally, he nodded at Zeb. “On three, throw one of the crates at them. I’ll give it a boost. Hera, you cover us.”

Gripping her blaster firmly, Hera said, “This is crazy.”

“All our best plans are,” Kanan quipped as Zeb grabbed a crate, crouching in wait for Kanan’s signal.

Despite how serious she knew the situation was, Hera couldn’t help but feel a flash of determined readiness. There was something satisfying about being side by side with Kanan in a fight.

To say Kanan had been in a fight was a wild understatement. One of his eyes was swollen shut, dark bruising discoloring the entire left side of his face. Blood oozed from a split lip, a long slash in his forehead, and his nose— which had already been slightly crooked— was definitely broken now. As Hera stared at him, she saw he had one arm wrapped around his torso, his stiff posture radiating pain.

She moved forward without stopping to think, slipping down the ladder to catch him by the shoulder as he swayed on his feet. “Force— what happened, Kanan?”

“Slipped,” he mumbled, and Hera could swear she saw a smile cross his face before it twisted in pain and he grabbed for the wall again.

“That is not funny,” Hera snapped, frustration swirling with concern in her chest as she helped Kanan to a crate on the floor nearby. He sank downward with a gasp of relief. 

“I don’t know,” Kanan said as Hera moved to get the med kit they stored in the entry bay in case of emergency. “I think it’s a little funny.”

Grabbing the kit, Hera flipped it open. “Now is not the time to joke about this,” she bit out, digging through the contents. “You’re a mess, and I want to know why, and what you did.”

“Who says it’s something I did?”

“Kanan.”

“Fine.” Kanan sighed as Hera brought the med kit over. “I… picked a fight. And I was very outnumbered.”

They were outnumbered, and outgunned. But Hera wasn’t giving up. She never did. So, as Kanan gave Zeb a nod, and the Lasat started to move, she popped up from behind the crate, taking out one of their opponents with a single shot. And she kept firing, not flinching at the incoming blaster bolts. 

She heard Zeb let out a snarling roar of effort as he launched the crate at their enemies, and didn’t have to look to know Kanan gave it an extra boost through the Force. It soared through the air and smashed into them, bowling three of them over and sending the others scattering. This was their chance.

Hera didn’t have to look at Kanan— she knew it was time to move. As Zeb vaulted over the crates, Kanan bolted after him. But Hera hesitated, for just a moment. Because their supplies were right there, and she hated to leave them behind—

She heard a blaster fire, and pain burned through her. A gasp was forced out of her body, and she stumbled backwards— just in time to feel the second blaster bolt hit. As her knees gave out, all she could think was, Oh, this was a bad idea.

“It was a bad idea, I know,” Kanan said as Hera set the med kit next to him, flipping open.

Pulling out a stim, Hera jabbed it into his arm, and he let out a yelp. “I know that,” she said. “What I asked was why you started it in the first place.”

“I… because.” Kanan’s gaze dropped, and he was silent long enough that Hera was about to speak when he said, “Because I promised you I would make the same mistake as last year.”

“What?” Hera frowned, confusion spiraling through her. “What does that mean?”

“It means I wasn’t drinking. I haven’t since last Empire Day. But I— I did end up at a bar.”

Hera pulled the antiseptic out, not speaking. Turning his words over in her mind, she coated a piece of gauze in the antiseptic, and paused for a moment before she finally said, “Okay. Explain it to me.”

“You don’t need to—”

“Kanan.”

Sighing, Kanan said, “Listen, I’m sorry, Hera.”

“HERA!”

Vaguely Hera heard her name called as she slammed into the ground, pain searing her back and her arm. Everything hurt, and she let out a slight gasp, unwilling to let out any other sounds of pain. This is not good. Oh, Force, I screwed up now.

Blaster fire and shouts echoed in her ears, and Hera vaguely saw a blue, glowing blur out of the corner of her eye, moving towards her. What? Is that…?

For a brief moment, the vision before her solidified— Kanan, wielding his lightsaber with expert confidence. Zeb, at his side, a snarl marking his face as he took out attacker after attacker.

Kanan was moving towards her, his expression fierce and unflinching. And even as pain sent her world spinning, she couldn’t help but think, This is the first time I’ve seen him use his saber.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve picked a fight with someone, and I didn’t mean to—”

“Kanan.” Hera caught hold of his chin, lifting it so he had to meet her eyes. His eyes widened a little as they locked with hers. “I asked for an explanation, not an excuse.”

He was silent for a heartbeat, gaze holding hers, then said, “I know. I… I went there out of habit, honestly.”

Lifting the gauze, Hera gently dabbed at the cut in his forehead. She felt him flinch, but he kept talking as she cleaned the wound. “But I wasn’t going to buy a drink, and I didn’t. But there was this… group of Imperial pilots there. Drinking and celebrating the glorious Empire.” The bitterness in his voice shifted in something raw as he said, “And I just… all I could think about was my Master.”

Hera stilled, just for a moment. He barely ever talked about his past, let alone the Jedi side of things. So she kept quiet as he continued. “They were celebrating the people that had her slaughtered, gunned down by the men she trusted. And I… it hurt. And the only way I know how to dull that is to drink. So I decided to try something else.”

“And what’s that?” Hera asked, setting aside the gauze. As she reached for the bacta patches in the med kit, she could feel his heart beating against her fingertips.

Her heart was pounding as Kanan reached her, the blue light disappearing in an instant. Everything was blurry with pain, but she knew it was his arms that she was swept into. “I got you,” he said, cradling her against his chest. “Don’t move, Hera. We’re gonna get you out of here. Hera?”

She could hear him saying her name, but his voice was fading, along with everything else. All she could really be aware of was the pain, searing its way through her body as the sounds of Zeb and Kanan’s voices, blasters firing, and then the Ghost’s engines— a sound that she knew better than herself, that lived inside her— faded away.

And then, the pain was gone, too, and there was nothing.

“Nothing smart,” Kanan said. “I just figured… when one thing hurts more than the other, you tend to focus on the worst pain.”

Hera’s eyebrows shot up as she gently smoothed the bacta patch over the cut on his forehead, fingertips lingering briefly. “So you tried to get your face smashed in so that things would hurt less?”

“I know,” Kanan said with a sigh. “It’s stupid.”

“No— well, yes,” Hera amended herself. “But I know what it’s like to want something that hurts so much to go away. To think that you would do anything to stop it.”

She saw the curiosity in his eyes, and knew he would ask. But he didn’t. Instead, he quietly asked, “Does it stop hurting?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m not exactly the authority in either of our cases. But… I hope so. Maybe someday we’ll be able to focus on the joy, not the pain.”

“Sounds like a nice thought,” Kanan said quietly.

“Maybe,” Hera said with a sigh. Turning her attention back to him, she said, “You’re going to need something for that eye— and your nose, too.”

Grimacing, Kanan said, “Right. I can take care of the nose if you’ll find me some frozen peas or something.”

Hera nodded, turning towards the ladder. As she made her way up to the kitchen and dug out a bag of frozen mixed vegetables they’d picked up in their last supply run, she heard a strangled yelp of pain from down in the entry bay. When she returned, Kanan was blinking back involuntary tears of pain, but his nose was closer to its former, less crooked placement. He had a handful of gauze, which he was using to wipe away the residual blood on his face.

As she entered, he glanced up, and she held up the frozen veggies. “Perfect,” he said, accepting them and pressing the bag against his face with a grateful sigh. “Thanks, Hera. For everything.”

“Of course.” Hera was silent for a moment, watching Kanan as he cleaned himself of the last of the blood, setting aside the crumpled handful of gauze. “You’re a mess,” she said softly.

“I know.” Kanan gave her a wry half-smile.

Hera weighed her next words briefly before saying, “You don’t have to go through this alone, you know.”

His eyebrows hiked up, surprise crossing his face. Somehow, that encouraged Hera. Holding his gaze, she said, “When next year comes around… can we talk about this? Instead of you throwing yourself into a fight just to make it stop hurting? I know it feels like it’ll help, but there has to be something else we can do that doesn’t involve hurting you more.”

She saw him hesitate, and said softly, “Please.”

“I… yeah, okay.” Kanan let out a sigh of defeat. “I’ll try.”

“Good.” On an impulse, Hera took his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. “I need my best crew member in one piece, you know.”

That crooked smile of his turned up the corner of his mouth. “Pretty sure I’m your only crew member, Captain Hera. And that Chopper would be very offended to hear that.”

“You want me to take it back?”

“Not at all,” Kanan said, leaning towards her a little. “Thank you, Hera. And I’m sorry, I really am.”

Nodding, Hera said, “Apology accepted— and you’re welcome, Kanan. We take care of each other, okay? That’s what we do.”

“Understood.”

Hera held his gaze for another moment longer, then turned to the med kit, starting to put it away. “We should probably take a look at your ribs.”

“What, trying to get my shirt off, Hera?” Kanan said, his tone teasing. “I thought I was more to you than that.” His voice turning a little more serious, he said, “But I got it. You should go get some rest. I kept you up late, and you must be tired.”

She was tired, so tired. Her limbs refused to move, to cooperate. She knew, vaguely, that she should be getting up, that there was something urgent she was forgetting. But sleep threatened to pull her back under.

And then she heard a familiar voice. Kanan’s voice.

“She’ll be okay?”

Another voice— automated and impersonal— assured him that she would make a full recovery, and that it was only a matter of time before she woke. “The time in the bacta tank helped considerably. Now, all you can do is wait.”

“I see. Thank you.”

There was a brief silence, then she heard footsteps, moving towards her bedside. Chair legs screeched across the floor, and Kanan sighed. “You’re gonna be okay,” he said.

Fingers laced through hers, and she felt Kanan lean his forehead against their clasped hands. “Force, Hera. You can’t scare me like that.”

His voice shook a little, then he cleared his throat. “Just… I’m glad you’re okay. If a stupid supply run had taken you away from— from us… I don’t know what I would have done.”

The supplies! That’s what Hera had been forgetting. Straining, she finally managed to force her eyes open. Blearily, she took in the hospital room around her. They’d made it out, although she wasn’t sure where to.

Her voice was a croak when she said, “Kanan.”

“Hera!” There was a rush of movement, and she was staring into Kanan’s blue-green eyes. “Wow. When the med droid said you’d wake up soon, I didn’t think he meant that soon.”

“You and Zeb?” Hera managed. Her mouth was dry, her throat a desert.

“We’re fine,” Kanan assured her, reaching for something out of her sightline. “Here— drink this.”

Water. Hera let out a sigh of relief as she drank from the cup Kanan held to her lips. When she had quenched her thirst, she cleared her throat, her voice coming a little easier as she said, “And the supplies?”

Kanan shook his head. “There were too many of them. Zeb and I barely made it out of there intact, and you—” his voice hitched, and he stopped, his gaze dropping. 

Hera winced as the vague memories came back to her. The pain, the ground rushing up to meet her. Kanan and Zeb fighting like mad to get to her.

One memory in particular solidified— Kanan, wielding a blue lightsaber. Confident and unhesitating as he batted away blaster fire.

He’d never used his saber before. Hera had known he had one, but this was the first time he’d actually used it. And he’d done it to save her. He’d endangered himself to save her.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

Kanan glanced up. “What?”

“For saving me. For— putting yourself in danger.” She held his gaze meaningfully, hoping he’d understand what she wasn’t saying.

He nodded, expression serious. He understood. “Always, Captain Hera. We take care of each other, right? That’s what we do.”

“Right,” Hera said, feeling that spark of warmth blooming in  her chest that she felt so often around Kanan. It was a spark that she usually squashed, pushed aside. A spark that she knew she couldn’t feel. But right now, she let it stay, let it warm her. 

“I remember the first time you told me that.”

Kanan’s voice was soft and contemplative as he spoke. “I was… such a mess. And you helped me back to my feet. Showed me that I could handle these things in a different way. Showed me that I wasn’t alone.” Shaking his head, he said, “You changed my life.”

“I think you’re exaggerating, dear,” Hera said, trying to keep her voice casual. But her heart was pounding, because she knew what Kanan was about to say. She’d known this conversation would happen someday, and she’d selfishly hoped to avoid it for as long as possible.

“You know I’m not,” Kanan said. He was still holding her hand, and Hera knew she should let go but she couldn’t quite bring herself to.

Following her gaze to their clasped hands, Kanan was quiet for a long moment. “Why don’t we ever talk about what happened?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Hera knew she was playing for time, she knew she had to face this. But Force, she didn’t want to, and she knew it wasn’t just because she didn’t want to hurt him.

“You know what I mean,” Kanan said, his voice even. “I mean the fact that you kissed me a couple months ago, and I know we said we weren’t going to talk about it—”

“Then you know why we haven’t talked about it,” Hera snapped. “Because I said we weren’t going to talk about it—”

“Hera, you kissed me,” Kanan said. “And I kissed you back, because— because this isn’t just a friendship, and you know it. I care about you, and—”

“You’re just saying this because of what happened,” Hera told him.

“Because you nearly died? Yes, that is part of why I’m saying it. Because your heart nearly stopped, and I almost lost you before I could tell you how I felt about you. Before we could even consider giving this a chance—”

“Stop.”

Hera could hear the harshness, the anger in her voice, and it hurt her. Because she knew it would hurt Kanan, and she didn’t want that. But she didn’t think there was anything they could do to avoid it now.

He didn’t speak for a long moment, and Hera closed her eyes. She knew what would happen if they kept talking. She’d tell him what she didn’t want to say, that nothing could ever happen, that they could never be anything more. And he would leave.

Hera had always hated crying. And feeling the prickle against her eyelids, she knew this was no exception.

“Explain it to me.”

He spoke quietly, sounding calm. It surprised Hera enough that she managed to banish the tears for the time being. “What?”

“You’ve always listened to me, when I’ve made messes that are way bigger than this one,” Kanan told her. “So explain it to me. Please?”

The pleading in his eyes tugged at Hera’s heart, more than it should have. She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a deep breath. “Okay.”

She felt Kanan watching her, silent and patient, as she opened her eyes. “I… you know what my goals are. And you know how much they matter.”

“I do,”

“Then you know I have to prioritize them above anything else.” Forcing herself to meet Kanan’s eyes, Hera told him, “This is only going to get bigger. And that means everything I have has to go towards this fight. It means I’d be keeping secrets from you, and— I can’t possibly manage a real relationship at the same time. One of them would be neglected and—”

“And you think it would be me,” Kanan finished, and Hera nodded, frustration burning in her throat. This is the part where he leaves.

“I think you’re underestimating my tenacity, Hera.”

Hera’s gaze flew back up to Kanan’s. He didn’t look nearly as hurt as she expected. If anything, he looked amused. “Hera, I’ve spent the past year and a half knowing how I feel about you and never really expecting anything in return. Do you really think that, if I know this could be real, I’m going to let anything get in our way?”

“You’re being unrealistic,” Hera argued, trying to shove aside the hope rising in her heart. “I would ignore our relationship in favor of—”

“Fighting for what’s right, which is what I love about you,” Kanan said. “And I’d be fighting right alongside you. We’ve been doing just fine so far.”

“It’s different, and you know it.”

Sighing, Kanan said, “I forget how stubborn you are sometimes.” Leaning forward, he locked eyes with her. “If you’re not ready, I can wait. But I also have no intention of giving up on this. If I have to wait until the end of this war, I will. Because Force knows being around you is worth it, Hera. Every single minute of it, whether we’re just friends or not.”

With Kanan’s face only a few inches away from her own, Hera found herself… speechless. Words fail me, I suppose, she thought with a flash of humor. Clearing her throat, she managed, “Now who’s being stubborn?”

“What can I say? We make a good team,” Kanan said, a smile crossing his face. Leaning back, he said, “Just think about it. And get some more rest. We’ll check out of here tomorrow, okay?”

“Hmm,” Hera said, dropping back into her pillows. As a wave of fatigue swept over her, she mumbled, “I thought I was supposed to be the captain.”

“You are,” Kanan said, his voice gentle. “But listen to me about this, okay?”

“Whatever you say, love,” were Hera’s last words as she dropped off to sleep.

Before she dropped off to sleep that night, Hera’s last thoughts were about Kanan. She knew he was a mess, that he’d been through a lot— but that he was working through it, and figuring out how to live with it in a healthy way.

And she knew one other thing for certain— she was glad she had him in her life.

[leffee]

“Sunil?” Penny said.

Sunil turned to face his friend, but still keeping note of anything in his peripheral vision, “Yes, Penny? Is something the matter?”

Penny and Sunil walked down the sidewalks of Downtown City.

“It’s just… you’re in a band, right?”

“I mean, as we are currently on our way to one of my rehearsals?” Sunil gestured to the guitar case slung over his back, “Yes, that is correct. I am indeed in a band.”

Penny chuckled, “It’s just, I was wondering; could you tell me a little… about your bandmates?”

“Hm? Okay then, I suppose. Hmm… well, there’s Shivers, our drummer. You remember him from before, right?”

“The guy who tried stealing from the pet shop for no real reason? Him?”

“Yes. He is working on it, however, and has made good progress.”

“That’s awesome! Wow, I sure am glad to hear it.”

“We also have Tootsie. He’s our bassist. I quite like him, actually. Very chill. You may actually remember him too from the time Zoe mistook him as her sister. I am not quite sure how that happened, considering how different they actually look from each other…”

Penny nodded along, “And then who’s next?”

“Our lead singer, Scarletta.”

Penny squealed quietly in excitement. She hoped Sunil hadn’t noticed.

Sunil continued, “She runs everything, makes sure we’re all doing everything right. She’s quite new in town, so I imagine that you afe not as familiar with her.”

Before Penny got to excited, she’d have to confirm something.

“Okay, but… Scarletta… who?”

“Hm? Uh… Scarletta Redd, I believe. Why so?”

A quick beat, as Penny thought about what to say. She figured there wouldn’t be any harm in telling Sunil. Part of her wanted to save that conversation for later. She eventually decided on;

“Nothing. That’s all I needed to hear.”

===

I wanted to write this scenario so bad but never knew where to put it cause I’ve never given info abt the band other than a few dms. And I also wanted to try putting smth into your askbox. So here i am :DD

That tootsie and gail thing is 100% a self diss on my own designs,,

Ah yes, welcome to my inbox! For the second time actually, but still, it is absolutely the right place to send whatever stuff you want especially if you don't know what else to do with them.

So yeah, I now get even more to know about the stuff with Scarletta and Penny (and sometimes Sugar Sprinkles, not here. They're just some sort of trio in a way). This little thing makes me think that they're both going to Sunil's rehearsals, so Scarletta will be there, yeah? So different things and emotions might be awoken, condiering the different scanerios of how they split and what emotions were involved. Though from this context Penny at least is positive about this possible meeting.

And the Gail and Tootsie thing xD. I just... they have pretty different skin complexions, huh? No worries though, I say Zoe just saw him from behing, no skin exposed in any way because of it so I suppose that would make sense, yeah? I mean as long as they don't interact.

I think that's all I can say here. Thank you for sending me this, I always try to make sure I put some real effort into those replies knowing that it takes effort to write the actual thing, so hopefully that was satisfactory and feel free to send any other stuff you'd like my way.

[shrinkthisviolet]

For Talk Shop Tuesday - what gave you the confidence to start writing OCs, and how do you manage to mesh them so well with their respective universes?

How I got confidence to start writing them…well honestly, it’s because of Morgan’s existence and the outside encouragement I got from a friend of mine 😂:

Morgan’s not my first OC—I wrote a couple OCs for Warrior Cats back in the day; I’ve had a couple vague Ace Attorney OC concepts since 2018; and although Lucy was recently fleshed-out and made a proper OC, the Skywalker triplet idea is one I’ve been trying to make work since 2015 (the Kenobi show just finally made that click).

But Morgan is the first OC to grab me and not let me go, and there was just…so much potential there, even a year after I came up with her in 2020. So with the encouragement of a Tumblr mutual (who would eventually become an irl friend), I wrote Morgan’s intro fic! Though…even then, she wasn’t the version of her we know and love. That evolution would come with time (and she’d also gain new and wonderful relationships…hello, platonic-soulmates Barry & Morgan, besties Morgan & Iris, etc). She would also, slowly but surely, become the lens through which I engaged with the show 😂 I still write non-Morgan Flash fics, but it’s definitely infrequent because of how entwined Morgan is with my Flash viewing experience (ever since I first watched s2!)

To put it simply…I had an awesome cheerleader and a thirst to get to know Morgan more. And the same is true for Lucy, whom I’ve written! Once it finally clicked how she could fit in, it was like I kept going “okay and?” and filling in more blanks, and it just snowballed 😂 in a good way ofc, which I’m very glad for.

It definitely comes down to which OCs stay in my mind, which ones I feel I can actually write a story for. Some of my OCs probably won’t get written, simply because I’m either not super active in those fandoms or putting them to prose is more daunting. It’s a feeling I get 😂 but I definitely advise any newbie OC creators…if you’re unsure about writing a fic for any of your OCs, start small! Start with snippets, oneshots in a series, drabbles. Don’t try to force it, or you’ll kill your muse. And having cheerleaders helps—joining the OC community has been wonderful, because I’ve gotten to meet people with wonderful OCs who love mine too! It’s a win-win 💞

As for how I mesh them so well with their respective universes…aww that’s very sweet 🥰 honestly it just comes down to rewatching the source material and figuring out where to fit them in. Outlining helps…but sometimes I also just get a gut feeling.

Example: Morgan wasn’t initially going to be part of rescuing Ronnie, and her finding out after the fact would cause tension between her and Team Flash later, but…I vetoed that because a) too much tension gets to be a hindrance and b) her being there gives me a chance to show the reader her and Ronnie, rather than just telling…and set up Barry as a parallel to Ronnie in her life (showing that, rather than simply telling). It was a deviation from my outline, but it’s the feeling I got while rewatching 🤷‍♀️ and I’m glad I kept it!

The key is definitely to know the source material inside and out…and be flexible! Try different things, even if they don’t work out! Who knows, you might strike gold you never expected. And know which relationships are key. Which ones have you shown? Which ones have you shortchanged? How can you fix that (if you want to fix it)?

Of course, this advice won’t work for everyone 😂 I’m guided by characterization above all else, and not everyone’s like that. But hopefully that gives you (and anyone else reading) some insight into me as an OC creator.

talk shop tuesday!

Taglist (send an ask or DM to be added or removed):

@ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @vexic929 @raith-way @ironverseocs @thechaoticfanartist @goldheartedchaoticdisaster

[sengoku-nadeko]

(this ask was on main! in the future, please feel free to ask fandom questions here 🫶)

What is the Game of Life if not the ultimate TTRPG?

Jokes aside, I think there would be some aspects of TTRPGs that Nadeko would like but other aspects that she wouldn’t! I’m not super well-versed in TTRPGs, so I may be off about some things, apologies in advance 🥲

What she’d like: A chance to be creative! I think that as a participant she’d have the most fun with this (not being a DM and crying inside when your group derails the story you worked so hard on lmao). Nadeko would have a chance to explore a setting and collaborate on an awesome story with folks! Based on her taste, I think she’d enjoy herself best in a home-brew and/or niche game… I can’t see her particularly favoring a high fantasy/default D&D setting over other kinds of settings.

What she’d struggle with: Social skills... absolutely 100%. I think Nadeko would struggle with all aspects of this, which includes some level of acting and of social improvisation. And like, I know that sometimes people who play TTRPGs end up being in groups with folks who they do not get along with outside of the game… it’s a lot of social stimulation, and she’s just awkward! Nadeko might be done being avoidant with others, but that doesn't really mean she's suddenly better at handling people haha.

Math, in Otorimonogatari it clearly states she’s not good at math (or much else at school 😭) and I do know that at least D&D has some calculations! That could get in the way of her enjoyment, but I imagine a DM could help mitigate the frustrations there.

With that in mind, I’m not sure Nadeko would be great at organizing a group either (like as a DM)! Creatively, it would be a neat chance for her to create a neat world for other people to participate in. But she certainly would struggle with the administrative tasks of being a DM (doing the calculations, smoothing things over if something happens in the group, etc.)

[flowerandjewel]

[PRIVATE DMS]

Perfect! Ok that’s awesome.

I’ll fly to you guys in this next week? Mum said she’d go with me this first time to make sure things go smoothly.

(Dms from @flowerandjewel )

Hey! It’s Juliana. I’m just sending on some information and touching base for adopting Lapis? ((Insert personal information someone would need to send to adopt a Pokémon))

My mum helped me get all that in order, so it should be everything you need from our end!

I can make the flight to you guys any time before September since classes haven’t started yet, but for follow up appointments for you guys to check on her it’ll have to be on weekends because I’m going to have classes so I’d have to fly out on Friday, be there for the checkups on saturday, and fly home on Sunday.

[PRIVATE DMS]

Oh hey! That should be it for what information I need about you, and now it's all stored don't worry.

Also, weekends are fine for check ups!

The follow up appointments should be monthly for about six months, then you should do a yearly checkup with Lapis. It doesn't have to be with us, but you can come over to us anytime Lapis needs medical attention!

[chen-chen-chen-again-chen]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tags, @martsonmars, @artsyunderstudy, @cutestkilla, @bookish-bogwitch, @sailorblossoms, and @hushed-chorus!!!

Once more, I bring shitpost energy to WIP Wednesday! I’ve been having Way Too Much Fun playing with Canva lately, so I mocked up some clothes from my ongoing WIP, Jelly Babies. Behold the shirt that Gregory stole from Simon: 

Hello tags, more clothes, stories about clothes, and a bonus pic of The Artist as a Victorian Baby (XD) under the cut!

And here is Sophie's sweatshirt, a Christmas present from Tyr:

I’m honestly furious that Canva doesn’t give me the option to make this entire sweatshirt tie-dye. COWARDS. The text is based on Lizzo’s Tiny Desk. 

Here is the shirt that Tyr is wearing at dinner:

This is a real shirt, and a shout out to my spouse's friend Tim, who will never read this or my fic. Hi Tim!!!! The first time I met Tim, he went on a long, intense monologue about Desert Bus (which New York Times called The Very Worst Video Game Ever Created) and the very cool charity event Desert Bus for Hope. Tim actually did design some art for DBfH, which is insanely awesome.

He's a very nice dude and the most wonderful DM; he did a one-off Christmas campaign for us a few years ago where he let me be Genji, a fuckboi YT influencer geisha/bard whose winter outfit was a red knitted thong, a cropped jacket, and no shirt (my nips were always tastefully covered).

I will always remember how, on the afternoon of his wedding, Tim said, "I feel like I'm DM'ing right now. I've set the context, gathered the players, and I'm just here to see this unfold."

Sadly, I don’t have a graphic yet of the God’s Gym shirt:

Gregory borrowed some of Simon’s clothes to sleep in, so he’s in old basketball shorts and a very soft, faded t-shirt that says “GOD’S GYM” and has a picture of Jacob wrestling with an angel. It’s extremely gay. 

This is A REAL SHIRT, owned by a professor of one of my high school English teachers. I’ve never seen the shirt with my own human eyes; it exists in the sacred homoerotic theatre of my mind. At some point, I think I need to actually draw it / design it so I can wear it on my bod.

And lastly, as a bonus, here is a (very blurry, low-res picture of a) picture of The Artist as a Victorian Baby that inspired the photo of Baby!Swithin.

“He just,” Gregory chokes, “he somehow looks SO BORED and yet SO SERIOUS?? He’s just a baby and yet his eyes look a HUNDRED YEARS OLD?? Why does this photo look like it was taken in the Victorian era? How is he so adorable?” 

I wish I could share the entire photo, because part of what makes it hilarious is that the rest of my family looks perfectly normal and happy and very 90s. And then. There’s me. The Grim Spectre. But like, a baby.

TRUE STORY: My best friend did lose her tiny mind over this photo, and she did save it as her lock screen. Every once in a while, she’d catch people doing a double take at her phone. She’s white, and I’m sure people assumed she had adopted an Asian baby. Whenever anyone asked, she would just say, nonchalantly, “Oh yeah, that’s my best friend,” and refuse to explain any further.

As always, pressure-free hello tags! @captain-aralias, @excalisbury, @facewithoutheart, @fatalfangirl, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @johnwgrey, @larkral, @moodandmist, @nightimedreamersworld, @raenestee, @thewholelemon,  @whogaveyoupermission, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe  

[beautiful-songbird]

Can You Keep a Secret?

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Baker!OC

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: none

Summary: Astrid hasn't had time to work on any music lately because of her busy life, but when she returns, she finds a message from one of her biggest fans, and their conversation sparks a collaboration between the two of them.

Like every adult, Astrid had her hobbies.  They weren’t easy to keep up with when you owned a bakery, but she put her time in wherever she could.  Recently, she’d been a bit busy with life.  Between Jungkook and their trip to Australia and everything in between, she hadn’t had much time to make her music.

She felt a twinge of guilt when she opened her business Instagram and found a dm from one of her biggest fans.

“Hi, Atti!  It’s been a while since you released a song :( I don’t want to bother you, but will you be releasing anything new soon?”

Sometimes she found this person a little odd.  Their username was atti_love_bot.  It was clear the account had been made just to follow her, because they were following her and three other people, but she had to wonder why.  She wasn’t someone widely famous, and it wasn’t even like anyone knew her.  She just made music on Spotify.  She didn’t even have a face.  So, why would someone make an account just for her?

“Hey, Jo!  So sorry I’m responding nearly a month late!  Life’s been busy recently.  I’ll be working on something over the next few weeks here, so maybe I’ll release a mini album at the end of the month?”

She was shocked at how fast the other person responded.

“Awesome!  I’ve missed your voice”

Weird.

She wasn’t really sure how on earth Jungkook dealt with all the attention that came with being famous.  She had 5,000 listeners, and she already felt a bit suffocated.  She couldn’t imagine having millions of people know her face, her name, and everything about her.  Online, she was just Atti.  No one knew anything about her other than that.  No one in real life knew that she wrote music, either.  It was a little secret between her and her computer.

She’d considered telling Jungkook in the past three months, but it had never seemed right.  Did she really want him knowing she wrote French and Swedish ballads?  No.

Whenever she listened to his music, she had to admit that it reminded her of her own.  The two of them both had a love for slow, quiet songs, and she was very glad for this.  She wasn’t sure she could marry a guy who was into metal or rap.  Not that she was thinking about marrying him already…definitely not.

She double-checked that her door was locked before booting up her music laptop.

“I had a suggestion, if you’d like it.  I’ve noticed you don’t use a lot of variety of instruments in your songs.  Maybe you could try something with string instruments?”

That sounded interesting, but Astrid wasn’t sure she knew how to make those work with any of the songs she had in the works.  But as always, she wished to please her favorite listener, so she’d try something out.

After a few hours of messing around with beats, she was beginning to lose hope.  She had absolutely no ideas that sounded good to her.  She responded to her listener’s message.

“I’m sorry.  I’m not too sure I can make that work.  Any other suggestions?”

“Could we call?  I could help you out with a few ideas.”

Astrid was taken aback by this suggestion.  Call?  She had no clue who this person was.  Was it really a good idea to call them?  She paced the room for a few minutes, but there was no tight feeling in her chest telling her not to do it.  Maybe she should just do it.  After all, the last time she’d done something absolutely insane, it had been the best time of her life.  She sat down at her computer to type out a response.

“Sure!”

After a few moments, she received an incoming call from the person.  She accepted it.

“Hello.”

Astrid froze.  Oh my.  Atti_love_bot was a guy.  And his voice was deep.

“Atti?”

She stared at her screen for a few seconds.  She couldn’t like this.  She had a boyfriend.  This was bad.  She cleared her throat.

“Hi there.”

“Hi,” the man chuckled.

“You’re Jo?”

“Yep.  That would be me.  I hope I’m not making you too uncomfortable.  You probably don’t talk to strangers over the phone much.”

“Uh…yeah, I don’t think I ever have just to have conversation.  Was there a specific reason you wanted to call?”

“Yes, actually!” his voice came out a couple octaves higher.  He cleared his throat. “I mean no offence by this, but I was wondering if I could write a melody for you?  Your voice is absolutely lovely, but I thought that maybe you could experiment with some other tunes?  Only if you want to, of course.  If you don’t want to, that’s fine.  It was just a thought-”

“I’d love that!  You’d do that for me?”

“Uh…yeah!  Of course!  I…uh.  Actually, I already have something I was working on.  Would you like me to send it?”

Astrid grinned.  This was not what she had expected, but she was thrilled.

“Please do!”

Astrid spent the rest of her free time that week holed up in her room.  The melody he’d written was amazing, and she had no clue how she was supposed to do the song justice.  There was no way her lyrics would ever be good enough to be paired with this tune.

She rolled around in bed that Sunday as she considered her options.  She really wanted to ask Jungkook for help, but she was far too intimidated by his musical expertise to even consider that.  She was sure that if he didn’t like her music, that would be the end of their relationship.

So, she wrote the lyrics by herself.  It didn’t take her as long as she’d expected it to, and once the song was put together, it sounded better than she could’ve ever dreamed.

It wasn’t long before her Instagram was updated with a link to the new song and a note: For my biggest fan, @atti_love_bot .  Thank you for writing the lovely tune!

Her Spotify was dry for a while after that.  Writing songs took time, and Astrid didn’t have time.  Something about the fact that Jo was a guy made her more nervous to talk to him, too.  She didn’t really know how she’d explain to Jungkook that she had an online guy friend if the topic came up, and besides that, she was already awkward when talking to strangers.

It wasn’t till June rolled around that she got another message from Jo.

“Hey!  Life’s been busy lately, so I never got a chance to tell you how much I loved the song!  Would you like me to create another melody?  I’d love to see what you do with it!”

Astrid clicked her pen as she stared at her computer screen.  Could she do something with another melody?

“I’m glad you liked it!  I thought maybe I wouldn’t be able to write lyrics good enough to go with the song, but it turned out pretty well!”

“I’ll admit, I don’t know enough French to understand the lyrics.”

Astrid laughed at that.

“You don’t need to understand the lyrics to enjoy the song.  I could send you the translation for them, though.  Would you like that?”

“That would be awesome!  I’ll send you the next melody for your trouble.”

◇◆◇◆◇

“Heyyyyyyy!” Astrid exclaimed when the call finally connected.  She and Jungkook hadn’t called each other in over a month.

“Hey!  It’s been a while!”

She laughed. “It has been.  Have you been busy?”

“Very.  We’ve been dealing with a lot.  You know, we’re planning Tae’s wedding, Rosa and Jasmine are both expecting, and now…goodness.  Did I tell you what’s been going on in London?”

“No.  What’s been going on?”

He groaned, and Astrid realized it was the first time he’d sounded frustrated while talking to her.

“The media made a mess of something.  It’s a long story, but basically everyone’s after this girl Jimin met now because they think he’s dating her.  It’s probably one of the worst scandals we’ve had to deal with, honestly.  She’d a foreigner, and she’s a recently graduated university student.  It’s just a massive mess.”

“That’s awful.  I feel so sorry for her.  Are you guys still in London, then?”

“Yeah, I have to head to The States tomorrow, though.  I wish I would’ve had time to come see you while I was here, but I just couldn’t fit it into the schedule.”

“It’s ok!  Don’t worry about it.  I barely have time to breathe while I run the bakery, anyways.  And Elliot’s birthday is in a week.”

“Oh!  Tell him happy birthday from me, then!”

Astrid sighed. “He’s still acting weird about me dating you.  I don’t really think that’s a good idea.”

“Will he be weird about it if I send him money?”

She gasped. “Do not do that!  He’ll start expecting it!”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Definitely.  He does not need to buy more video games!”

Jungkook chuckled. “More video games is always a good thing.”

She shook her head. “Ok, what’s up with wedding planning?”

“You’d be surprised.  Have you not been in the loop?”

“Not really.  Zelda and I are going to go shopping for my dress when she’s here in a couple weeks, but it makes sense that I’m not really part of the planning, right?  I don’t live anywhere near her, and she’s got, what, three sisters?”

“Yeah.  Honestly, I haven’t been too involved either.  They’ve seen each other quite a bit recently, so they’re doing most of the planning together just the two of them.”

Astrid hummed. “Well, good for them.  I’m honestly shocked Zelda asked me to be in the wedding.  We barely know each other.”

“I’m not surprised.  People tend to be a hit or miss for Zelda.  You were a hit.”

“I suppose so.  Does Rosa know what she’s having yet?”

“Yeah.  They’re having a boy.  Jasmine’s finding out what she’s having next week.”

“Oh, fun!  I’ll have to come to the baby showers.”

“I’ll let you know when they have dates for them, then.”

The air was silent for a few moments.

“What have you been up to?” Jungkook asked.

“Mostly just working at the bakery.  One of my girls quit last month, so I’m working overtime.  We’re looking around for new people to hire.”

“That sucks.  Don’t have a lot of time on your hands then?”

“Not really.”

“Well…we should probably head to bed now.  It’s getting late.  And I have a flight tomorrow morning.”

“Oh!  Yeah, of course.  Talk tomorrow?”

“Probably.  I’ll text you when my flight lands.”

“All right!  Goodnight.  Love you!”

“Love you too,” Jungkook replied, and she could hear his grin in his voice.

◇◆◇◆◇

Astrid tapped her fingers against her desk the next night as she tried to write something.  Jungkook hadn’t been able to call tonight, which made sense.  He’d probably been exhausted from the flight, and on top of that he’d had to get to his hotel.  She was partially grateful for it.  Something felt wrong about not telling him about her music, but she wasn’t sure how to tell him.  He was so much more experienced than her, too.  Showing her music to one of the most famous artists in the world was terrifying no matter whether he was her boyfriend or not.

“Heyy.”

Astrid blinked at the Instagram notification that popped up on her screen.  Jo was back.

“How’s writing going?  Can’t wait for something new :).”

She cringed.  She had absolutely no ideas.  There was no way she’d be able to get a new song out any time soon.

“Hey there!  It’s not going too well, sadly.”

“Writer’s block?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I suggest something?”

“Sure!”

Now she was curious.  What was he going to suggest she do about this?

“When I get writer’s block, I always try to find something that’ll inspire me.  Sometimes I’ll go and take a walk, or other times I’ll find a story to read.  Lyric writing is generally just telling a story, so find a story to tell.”

Astrid grinned.

“That’s a great idea.  Thanks for your help!”

◇◆◇◆◇

Her new song left a lot of empty space for the melody to play on its own, but it seemed appropriate to write this song in English for Jo, who didn’t speak either of the languages she sang in.  The melody clearly had string instruments in it, which Astrid was sure had been put there intentionally.

“I’m kinda feeling lost,

“Stuck up in a rut.

“Just spinnin’ and spinnin’ and spinnin’ and spinnin’.”

There was a pause for the music to play before she started singing again.

“I look up, and there’s no sky.

“I look down, and there’s no ground.

“Feelin’ a little bit lost in space…

“Will you be my anchor?  Holdin’ onto me?

“Will you be my home base?  Keepin’ me safe?

“Would you just be there?  Be there for me?”

There was a long pause as the song slowed down this time in preparation for the next verse.

“I haven’t been honest with you.

“Can I be honest with you?

“Feels like lyin’ to keep a secret.

“Feelin’ like crying, if I’m honest.

“Can I be honest with you?

“Can I be honest with you?

“You’ll never hear this song,

“But I don’t wanna pull you along.

“Can I be honest with you?

“Can I be honest with you?”

The melody played on its own for a while longer than the last time, this time coming to a slow stop.

“Can I be honest with you?

“Feels like lyin’ to keep a secret.

“Feelin’ like crying, if I’m honest.

“It’s a secret to you, but it’s life to me.”

The melody returned again after this.

“Will you be my anchor?  Holdin’ onto me?

“Will you be my home base?  Keepin’ me safe?

“Would you just be there?  Be there for me?

“Just tell me it’s ok.

“I can keep a secret…”

Once the song had been posted on Spotify, she posted the link to her Instagram. “Another great melody by @atti_love_bot .  I think they should take my place at this point!”

Astrid turned her computer off after that and turned off her Instagram notifications.  She couldn’t handle thinking about it right now.  She’d want to send it to Jungkook if she did, and she wasn’t ready to do that.

◇◆◇◆◇

“Hey?  Astrid?  I think I’m the one that needs to tell you a secret.”

Instagram’s settings weren’t working, apparently, because she woke up to this message from Jo the next morning.  It was staring back at her on her home screen after her alarm had gone off.  Her phone alarm wasn’t the only one that was going off, though.  How did he know her name?

“A secret?” she asked, ignoring her name.

“Can we call?”

Screw Instagram and their calling option.

“Sure.”

She hit the accept call button a little too fast.

Jo cleared his throat. “Astrid?”

Oh…oh.

“Jungkook?!” she nearly yelled.

He laughed. “Um.  Hi there.”

“You’re Jo?  Why didn’t you tell me?  And…how did your voice sound different last time we talked?”

“Well, uh, I figured you had a reason you hadn’t told me you wrote music, so I thought I’d wait for you to tell me.  And…Tae’s been teaching me voice acting.”

She blew a breath out of her nose. “But you’ve been following me for three years?”

Jungkook chuckled. “Yeah.  I figured out it was you after we called on the phone for the first time.  You sang, remember?  I heard you and I was like ‘hey wait I know this voice…’ and then I put it together.  Atti.  It’s what your brother calls you, right?”

“It’s my nickname.”

“Ah.” He paused. “I suppose I should delete my account now?”

She nearly shot out of bed. “NO!  Oh my gosh, no.  I love your account.  I’m just…shocked.  Sorry.”

“It’s ok.  Can I ask why you never told me you wrote music though?”

“Are you kidding?  You’re one of the most talented song writers on this planet.  I mean, even before we met most of the songs on my playlist were your songs.  I didn’t realize it then, though.”

“…I’m not that talented.  And come on.  I’m your boyfriend!”

“You are that talented!  Are you kidding?  Those melodies you wrote me were lovely!”

“You made them lovely.”

She scoffed. “They were awesome by themselves.”

“If you say so.”

She smiled. “Are you going to write more melodies for me?”

“I could.  Do you want me to?”

“Of course!  Your melodies are beautiful!”

He laughed. “You really like them, don’t you?”

“I do.  Thank you for making them for me.  It took a lot of work out of song-making.”

“I prefer making melodies, actually.”

“We should be a team, then.  You can make melodies and I can write the lyrics.”

“Great!  You can help me work on my next album.”

“As long as you don’t use my real name to credit me.”

“Don’t want the publicity?”

“No.”

“I can’t blame you.”

Astrid glanced at the clock and sighed. “I’ve gotta head out.  We’re opening in two hours, and I have to prep this morning.”

“Aw, that’s ok.  I should probably go get dinner.”

“You haven’t had dinner?  Isn’t it eight for you?” she asked in exasperation as she rolled out of bed.

“Yeah.  We’ve had a long day, and I ate lunch at almost four.”

“Wow, that’s a late lunch.”

“We snacked all morning.”

“I see.  Well, I’ve gotta go now.  We can talk later.” She giggled. “I still can’t believe you’re Jo.”

He grinned. “It was fate for us to meet, I guess.  We’ve met on accident four times now.”

She smiled. “Yeah…fate.  I love you.”

“I love you too.  Talk to you later, Atti.”

“Haha.  Bye-bye.”

“Bye.”

This is part of the Dad!BTS series that can be found here

A/N: this definitely didn't take me a month to write....also please tell me that plot twist was predictable because it was supposed to be

It would be greatly appreciated if you reblogged the story if you liked it!

Taglist: @jiminie-and-his-pinky-finger @jinnie-forthe-winnie @fly-you-dam-fools @thornedswan @kookstempo @armys-dna @aianloveseven

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Dream - Chapter Sixteen.

Big thanks to everyone for your engagement on this, still! :) 

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)

Words - 2,790

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

“Dare I even believe my eyes and ears?” Keri put to David, being handed rinsed plates and cutlery she loaded into the dishwasher.  

Shaking the excess water from a large dish, his mouth upturned. “I say it’s safe to call it. I think mommy likes him.” Placing the dish into her outstretched hands, he chuckled. “I mean, god, I didn’t think I’d ever meet anyone else as obsessive over Breaking Bad as your mom is, but apparently it’s very much a common ground.”  

As soon as Angell had mentioned it over dinner, Meryl’s eyes had lit up, the two of them mostly dominating the conversation, discussing the layers of the plot, the characters, how they both considered the only redeemable characters to be either Mike or Jessie, and Angel’s theory that Walt began mimicking certain traits of the characters he killed, thus showing him as a true sociopath.  

What he didn’t reveal was that until someone had called him one, he’d had no idea what a sociopath was, checking with Google, finding that the pissed off woman he’d been having sex with very briefly was incorrect in her assertion. The term fitted Walter White wonderfully, though, he’d thought.

Meryl had listened to him with fascination, suddenly experiencing a pang of guilt that she’d assumed him to be a dead beat who hauled scrap metal around, day in, day out. She knew she could sometimes be a little judgemental, and very overprotective when it came to her only child, so thus worked hard in making an effort, even though she found that through Angel’s charming nature and ability to engage well with conversation, she truly didn’t have to.  

Her mind wasn’t one hundred percent made up, but so far, she found him to be quite likable. As for David...

“Well, little. I gotta say, I think he’s great. I like him, he's a straight up guy and seems really genuine, too. And let me tell you, you’re the apple of his goddamned eye.”

She bit her lip, looking away. “Hmm.”

“Hmm? Psht. Hmm, nothing. You’re onto something good, mark my words.” For once, she actually dared believe that she was. There he was, prepared to do the whole meet the parent's thing on only the second occasion he’d actually spent physical time with her, flying over seven hundred miles to do that, and fine with being ordered to the spare room. And he’d witnessed her various states of calamity.  

Yes. Things were looking promising, she had to admit.  

“So, I think you have the parent's approval, I haven't heard my mom laugh like that in years! She’s fun once the icy exterior thaws a little,” Keri told him much later in the night before they went to sleep, hugging him in the doorway to the spare room.

“Yeah, I think she’s great. Kinda freaks me out a little that she's only eight years older than me! And David is fuckin’ awesome, really good guy. He’s just like how I pictured him to be from what you told me.”  

His words made her beam brightly, reaching to kiss him. “Well, until the morning, you gorgeous man.”  

“Goodnight, tiny. Try not to miss me too much.”

She kissed him again, stroking his chest through his shirt. “I’ll try, but if I do, I can’t say that my hands might not wander while I imagine you there.” Licking her top lip, she winked, turning to enter her room, leaving Angel both frustrated and...  

“Get the fuck back down,” he spoke, looking to where his cock was beginning to swell in his jeans, closing the door. “We ain’t getting shit tonight.”  

The following morning, Keri was up before him, heading downstairs to find David pulling on his jacket.

“I'm just going out to pick up a paper and get some gas, do you want anything from the store?”

Stretching, she shook her head while yawning. “No thanks, I'll have a read of your paper when you're done with it, though.”  

“Okay I'll be back in about twenty minutes.” Opening the front door, she noticed that her mother’s car was absent, wondering why, at 9am on a Saturday, her mom wasn’t still in bed. Meryl loved a weekly lie in. David noticed her inquiring expression. “Ruth called her into work. Apparently, Agnes got her days off mixed up, so she’s had to go and cover for her.”  

“Wow,” she began, her eyes rounding. “I bet she was pleased.”

He laughed softly through his nose, remembering her fury, until Ruth had revealed the sweetener. “Actually, she was. She’s getting paid double time. Anyway, I’ll see you shortly.”  

Twenty minutes of a house to herself. Hearing the shower being turned on upstairs, armed with the knowledge that there were no parents currently under the same roof to catch her doing it, she decided that it was the perfect time to get her own back on the man currently standing under the jet of hot water.

Since the lock was broken on the bathroom door, she tapped it softly and called out 'only me' from the other side after removing her pyjamas, casting them to the floor as soon as she entered the white brick bathroom. Angel turned around in the shower cubicle, his eyes virtually popping right out of his head at the sight of a naked Keri walking towards him.

She could barely conceal the satisfaction at such a reaction, Angel gaping as she stepped in with him. “Move over buddy, there's room for a small person too.” He was rendered mute. “Oh, and good morning.” Fluttering her eyelashes, she stood there beneath the water, her bare skin not quite making contact with his, the large corner shower spacious enough for them both to stand comfortably in there. “Can you speak at all?”

Seeing her naked in the flesh for the first time had truly caught him off guard, the last thing he expected to be seeing that morning, but fuck, he was appreciative. Her body was incredible. Even more so than their dreams had alluded to.

Finally, after watching the water running down over her breasts, he found his voice. “Not that having a beautiful, naked woman in the shower with me is something I’d ever turn down, but if your mom or David come in now, we're dead.”

“Mom got called into work, and David went out to the store. He’ll be gone for twenty minutes. Besides, I’m doing nothing naughty. Merely taking a shower,” she stated sweetly, reaching around him to take her shampoo from the shelf.  

Damn her. “So, you're gonna stand there in front of me and expect me to keep my hands to myself, huh?' he said, his eyes travelling across her body, feeling a certain part of his begin to react to the sight he was presented with.  

Rinsing the suds from her hair, she once again reached past him, grabbing her conditioner and applying, placing the bottle back, her lips meeting his chest. “Yes, I do expect that. Maybe, though, I don’t have to.”  

She finally let her gaze fall, looking down, her smile broadening when she saw his cock standing erect, biting her lower lip as she grasped it with a gentle squeeze. “God, that’s so thick. See when we dreamed, it was always a little hazy, the exact size of your cock. I could never truly gauge what I was working with, but now, wow. The reality is a very nice, big surprise, I have to say.”

Her hand, a little slippery from the conditioner she’d just applied to her hair, ran up his shaft, her thumb stroking swirls over the very tip, pushing him back against the glass cubicle. He reached for her, Keri stepping back a little, her eyes warning him. Knocking his hand away, she closed the gap once more, her lips soft as his neck, a faint whine of a moan fluttering from her mouth. “Does that feel good?”  

Her whisper had him shuddering more than the deft ministration of her hand, slowly pumping at his shaft, kissing the column of his throat once more, a deep rumble vibrating against her lips, her tongue swiping where his beard met his neck, that black grit coarse against the soft lick. “Yeah, feels really good.”  

He twitched within the warm, slippery clutch of her grasp, his groans thickening as rapidly as his cock, her own furnace beginning to burn brightly. “You want me badly, don’t you? I bet you’d love nothing more than to bend me over right here, and bury this beautiful, big cock right up inside of me, wouldn’t you?”  

“Mm.” That soft grunt was all he could manage, their mouths meeting in a kiss of fiery honey, sweet heat burning between them as she quickened her hand, her other bracketing his throat and pushing him back when he tried to assert himself over her. It was an action he hadn’t expected from one quite so diminutive, her strength taking him by surprise.  

“Oh no, Angel Reyes. There’ll be none of that.” Her purr set the hairs at the back of his neck to stand on end, his chest beginning to rise and fall quicker, wanting nothing more than to grasp her waist, lift her up and drop her straight down onto his aching cock. “In fact, there’ll be no more of anything. I think I’m done here.”  

Releasing him, her mouth tilted into a smirk as she rinsed her hair, soaping herself down quickly before puckering her lips and leaving him there smouldering. His eyes narrowed at her as she swathed herself in towels, chuckling with amusement at his anguish. “I hope you enjoyed your preview.”

“You’re gonna pay for that, mamas.”

She pouted, licking her top lip. “To use your words, bring it.” Leaving the bathroom, the atmosphere definitely steamier than when she’d arrived, Keri went back to her bedroom, her eyes glancing in the direction of her nightstand drawer. God, she’d kill to take the edge off with her vibrator, but time wasn’t really on her side.  

After applying a liberal smothering of lotion to her skin, she dressed in her black skinny jeans and her lovely, soft, pale grey sweater that perpetually hung off one shoulder, revealing the dark leopard print undies she had on beneath. Finger combing her hair with some styling cream, she gave it a blast with her hairdryer, her tresses falling into their natural waves, Keri pinning it back to apply a little makeup, laughing as she heard Angel mutter about her being a demoness as he exited the bathroom and walked past her door.  

She was affixing her small, diamante stud earrings in when he arrived in her room, folding his arms, still glaring. “I hate you.”

Chuckling, she stood up, moving to kiss him. “Next time I have my hand around it, believe me, I won’t stop.”  

“Yeah, I’d appreciate that, rather than having to finish solo.” Just the thought of him relieving himself of what she’d stirred sent a pleasant quiver through her, kissing him hotly before they went downstairs, finding David in the kitchen, cooking up one of his mammoth sized breakfasts. Once they’d eaten, David heading over to their neighbour Steve’s place to continue helping him work on his classic truck rebuild project, Keri sat at the island reading the paper while Angel stood at the window, looking out into the garden as he drank his coffee.  

Five minutes passed before he got his true first taste of the local wildlife.

“Holy fuck! There’s a huge assed bear in your garden, come check it out!”  

“Colour?” she asked, not looking up from the paper.

“Black.”

She looked up, her face curious with anticipation. “Brown snout, and a chunk taken out of his left ear?”

“Yeah, it has actually,” he replied, puzzled at the specificness of her question for a few moments.

Her face lit up, flying from her seat at speed. “He’s back!” She ran at the refrigerator, pulling out a plate of meat cuts, taking it to the back door. “And where have you been?” she demanded, turning back to Angel and signalling with her hand that he should stay where he was.  

“Keri, what the fuck are you doing? That's about four hundred pounds of wild bear coming towards you,” he hissed, his eyes wide.

“Relax, he’s my bear,” she began, the huge beast approaching, making noises of greeting in his throat. “My mom found him abandoned on the side of the highway after his mother had been hit by a truck. He was only a few days old, so she brought him back here to raise him herself. My granddad used to do wildlife rehabbing, so she knew what to do.  

“He lived in the house with us until he got too big and was able to go back to the wild, but he comes to visit once a week or so. He thinks we’re his family, and we are, I guess, especially since he used to sleep in mom’s bed with her when he was tiny, before she made his own space for him when he got too rambunctious. He only came out of hibernation last week, though, so I haven’t seen him for months.”

Angel couldn’t help but feel his panic rise as the bear ambled closer, taking in the sheer size of the beast, but his anxious heart melted instantly when he saw it reach Keri, who put the plate down and crouched to fling her arms around his neck, the bear pushing his face against hers. “Hey boy, hey! I missed you so much! I wasn’t home when you came by last week, no, I was out taking lots of pictures of things not nearly as beautiful as you, yes I was!”

He was speechless at the sight, watching the bear put his head down and begin eating the meat from the plate, Keri continuing her talk. “We shouldn’t really feed him as it encourages them scavenging, but he’s never raided the trash, same with the neighbours either. He’s a good boy, he has his manners. He used to come back quite a lot, but it’s less regular now he’s older.”

“How old is he?” Angel asked, viewing the bear with fascination.

“He’s fourteen, and his name is Rufus! I named him after a bear in a book I read as a child.”  

He laughed, thinking it a very cute and non-threatening name for a creature who could disembowel a person with one swipe of his claws.  

“Don’t look so worried! I used to ride him around the lounge when I was nine! He’s lovely, but not good with new people, so you’ll have to stay there or he might become agitated,” she advised, her nails scratching his thick fur, Rufus fluttering his ears as he licked the plate clean of the blood trails. “Your breath stinks, boy. Yes, it does. I love you, though.” she continued, Rufus sniffing her face and giving her nose a lick before he turned and ambled away.  

“Well I gotta say it, you've got probably the most unusual pet in the world, even if he is a wild animal, and he seems to think the world of you,” he told her, stepping outside and lighting up a cigarette.

Her cheeks dimpled from her sweet grin. “Most gorgeous, big animals do.”  

Once he’d finished his cigarette, they headed out, Keri able to take him where she’d wanted to the previous weekend, up to the dinosaur museum, stopping for dinner on the way home at a steakhouse David had recommended, and then going for drinks with Ash and Rachel on the evening.  

His time with Keri was over way too soon for Angel’s liking, hating to leave her at the airport when Sunday morning rolled around, especially since he wouldn't get to see her for two weeks, with club business penned in the following weekend, making plans for her to go to him next time. She was able to fly down on the Thursday afternoon and stay until Monday morning, figuring she could head straight to college from the airport for her afternoon lectures.  

As soon as he walked back into his house, he couldn’t wait until she’d be there in it, too. After unpacking his bag, though, he saw a tiny part of her already was. His hand hit something fuzzy as he pulled his tangle of clothes out, peering down and removing what turned out to be a small triceratops beanie baby she’d obviously bought secretly at the museum giftshop and snuck in there when he hadn’t been looking.  

“Keri Jane,” he hummed, looking at the little plush toy with a smile. “Too fucking cute by far.”  

[nobodysdaydreams]

@sophieswundergarten all amazing ideas:

#and sq would have no concept of internet fame and would just be like “Thank you all for being so nice! I hope you have a great day :D”#meanwhile he has thousands of followers and everyone goes nuts over his art because it's awesome#and sq just found a loophole/was given access because curtain can control his access to online friends better than real ones

I feel like SQ would have an “official” account that Curtain knows about that just reblogs stuff from his dad’s account, posts the art they do together, and has the whole society blocked, and then SQ would have a secret anon side blog that has his dad blocked (so he never finds out about it) where he posts his thoughts, whatever art he wants, and can DM the society (I imagine him mostly talking to Reynie and Nicholas. It’s anonymous, but Reynie suspects it’s him. Poor Nicholas has no idea and thinks SQ is just a random nice person).

#and i can so very definitely see constance leaving anonymous mean poems in his inbox

She would and Curtain would go nuts trying to figure out what account is hers so he can block her (she has a separate anon account just to leave him hate messages).

#i think mr. benedict would follow garrison because he genuinely likes her stuff/they have similar interests#but he doesn't realize that she's one of his brother's inner circle#so he thinks they're friends#and she's just absolutely freaking out over what this could possible mean and what to do about it#because he's so nice and she wants to be friends but she also wants her job

This would happen. She’s looking at her phone, having a panic attack over whether she should follow Nicholas back and reply to his DM’s, meanwhile Curtain is ranting about how awful his brother is. If Garrison doesn’t use her actual picture, I think she’d just answer his questions and not tell either brother about her relationship with the other. If she’s using an actual picture of herself, I would love a season 3 scenario where the brothers confront Garrison (which they would. Regardless of whether the show did an SOS style backstory, Garrison is trying to get revenge on Curtain and kidnap Nicholas’ daughter (Constance) so presumably they’d all meet eventually). And Curtain’s like “oh no. It’s my friend Garrison who I betrayed and stole everything from she’s gonna kill us now, Nicky we need to run.” And Nicholas is like. “Wait…. You’re THAT Dr. Garrison? My brother’s ex-friend/employee? Well, this is surprising. I must say, I loved your thoughts on my symposium! Though I’ll admit I’m less than thrilled about the fact that you hired a fake water polo team to kidnap my daughter.”

Out of all of the kids in the Society, Reynie is the most likely to have a Tiktok account. No I will no elaborate.