#somehow this is reminding me of this one video i saw a while ago of someone saying he looks both gay and homophobic LMAO

[appallinnballin]

Ruvyzvat is so gender to me in the way of "anyone can headcanon him as literally anything and I would agree"

VERY WHOLEHEARTEDLY AGREE

[jjkamochoso]

I have a Gen Narumi request!

So basically Y/N turned very cold and distant to (almost) everyone, after she lost EVERYONE they care about from a kaiju attack, being scarred both mentally and physically, she closes off from the world trying to protect themself, but they're wonderful, weird, game addicted captain, just so happens to have broken that ice wall a tiny bit (Y/N's even giggled once in front of him!!) , but he's never seen her cry...until one day he heard quiet sobbing from her office, he checks it out being the great friend he is, but sees Y/N curled up in their chair in fetal position ,tears flowing down their face (Gen tries to comfort her obviously, he would be the best friend ever I swear)

Fluff/angst because I've been reading to much unholy stuff :)

Oooh I like this idea!! Angst and fluff is the best combo🤭 thanks for putting your trust in me for this story and I hope you love it!! 🫶❤️

Comfort from Your Captain

Angst, fluff

Gen Narumi x f!reader

Warnings: mentions of death, depiction of panic attack, small instance of cussing

“Hey, L/n! You wanna grab some lunch with us?”

“No, thank you. You guys go ahead.”

That was a common occurrence for you. Your teammates never failed to extend an invite to their favorite platoon leader and you never failed to deny their requests. They were all extremely nice people which was why you didn’t want to get to know them better—it would make life even more unbearable for you when it was their inevitable turn to die on the battlefield against the kaiju. You had already lost your entire family and friends years ago when a kaiju ravaged your neighborhood, that tragic day leaving an irreparable mark on your heart and mind. The attack hadn’t left you unscathed physically, either; you were haunted by it everytime you looked in the mirror and saw the scars littering your face and body, reminding you of all you had lost, all you were too weak to protect. Since then, you had sworn to never get close to anybody because you knew it was only a matter of time before they got ripped away from you as well.

Until a certain captain entered your life.

When you were transferred to the First Division, you kept to yourself as per usual, but somehow along the way, Gen Narumi was able to break down the walls you had built up for so long. Was it because you knew he was strong, so strong that he probably wouldn’t die in the hands of a kaiju? Was it because of those countless nights you spent together, when both of you found sleep evading you, up until dawn, him playing video games while you silently enjoyed his company, just not wanting to be alone for once?

Was it because you finally found someone who understood what it was like to have nothing and no one at all?

It was a mix of all those things, you thought. Whatever the real reason was, anyway, you didn’t care; all that mattered was Gen Narumi had become the only friend you could tolerate having. He was the only person in the past few years to have seen you crack a smile and let out a giggle when he was being particularly ridiculous. And, as neither of you were team players, you worked well together in the field for that very reason. He would always charge for the large honju while you would take out all the smaller yoju surrounding him. It was a silent agreement between you to stay out of each other’s way and you were glad to have that level of trust in someone for the first time in many years.

Oftentimes, especially lately, you wished you could embrace the happier, more communicative side of yourself you’d had to suppress all this time. Your division was comprised of many kind people who you would’ve loved to learn more about, but your fear of loss was much too strong to allow you to be so vulnerable and open with anybody else other than Gen. It pained you to turn down their many offers to dine together or hang out, but you really couldn’t bring yourself to agree to any of it. However, you were starting to tire of being so lonely all the time. Keeping up your cold demeanor around your team was starting to take a toll on your mental health and you found yourself becoming wrought with despair much more often than normal. When you bid the members of your team farewell, your heart began to quicken its pace and your breathing was becoming rapid. Words flowed through your brain at a swift pace, so quick you could barely create a coherent thought.

What is going on? I feel like I’m dying. Why am I doing this? I’m losing control.

I need to get out of here.

Your body was on autopilot—you ran to your office as fast as your shaking legs could carry you. You hoped the slam of your door wasn’t echoing across the base because the last thing you needed was someone seeing you in this state. Throwing your body onto your desk chair, you tried to even your breathing but your lungs weren’t cooperating. All of a sudden, akin to a thundering storm, came an onslaught of tears from your eyes. You began to sob, your body wracking with each cry you tried so desperately to hold in.

“It’s too bad L/n couldn’t make it to lunch with us. Maybe sometime later this week?”

“Maybe. She always seems to have something going on though.”

Gen listened intently to the conversation happening between your teammates as they walked past him, throwing up lazy salutes to the captain on their way to the dining hall. He frowned, letting their words settle into his head. He knew you had a hard time with opening up to others but it pained him to see you so blatantly blow off people who genuinely wanted to connect with you. He knew all the great qualities you had to offer with your friendship and he wished that you could see it was okay to lower your guard sometime.

I’ll go check on her, make sure she’s alright.

He waltzed toward your office, video game in hand. He had just beaten the level he was on when he raised a fist to your door but stopped in his tracks. Holding his breath and putting an ear to the barrier between you two, his heart immediately sank.

Is y/n… crying?

Gen didn’t know what to do. He had never seen you cry, let alone show sadness in any real sense of the word. You favored the emotionless side of yourself, never letting others see what you were going through internally. Now, with only a door separating you two, he hadn’t the slightest clue whether he should barge in or not. He waited for a moment, but you didn’t let up. In fact, it sounded like you were crying harder, if that was possible. With a gentle touch, he tried the door handle—it opened without protest.

She must’ve ran in here in a hurry.

He knocked on the door as he swung it open slowly. “Hey, uh, y/n? You alright?”

When he entered the unlit room, he could barely make out your figure, currently huddled up in your chair. Your knees were drawn close to your chest, your face hidden in the darkness of the arms covering it. Even with the curtains drawn, he could tell you were quaking in your position. When you didn’t answer him with so much as a threat to his well being, he knew you weren’t doing well. Your labored breaths, along with your sniffling cries, hadn’t calmed and it pained him to the core to see you hurting in such a manner. Without a second thought, he quickly ran to you and took you in his arms the best he could.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. You’re alright,” he consoled, rubbing his hands up and down your back. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

“Gen, I-I can’t,” you hiccuped, not daring to show your face.

“Can’t what? It’s alright, you can talk to me.”

“Can’t keep doing this.”

His eyes widened in concern. “Doing what?”

You didn’t answer, a fresh wave of sobs taking over your body. He didn’t let up in his care for you, hugging you tighter to his body. After a few minutes, your crying finally seemed to slow but Gen never loosened his grip, adamant on proving to you that he was there for you in your lowest of lows.

You raised your head from its downward position, tear stains all down your cheeks. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what, silly girl?” He cracked a smile, softly rubbing circles on your back.

“He-helping me. I’ve pushed you away f-for so long but you’re here.”

Gen shrugged. “We’re friends. And that’s what friends do.”

His answer came out like it was the simplest fact in the world to him. The response was almost enough to send you into another spiral of emotions, but you held back as much as possible.

“You know, there’s a lot of other people that wanna be your friend, too. I’m not happy about sharing ya,” he playfully nudged you, “but I will for your own sake. You deserve to be happy and feel loved. I know how hard it is to get to that point of opening yourself up to others, trust me, I do, but we can work on it together if you want. You, me, and the rest of the team. We all have your back.”

You nodded, wiping your bleary eyes. “Earlier, when I was having that panic attack, I was thinking I couldn’t continue pretending not to give a shit. I just don’t wanna see anybody else I love get hurt. I don’t need any more scars.”

“I know.” The captain pulled you closer, resting an arm around your shoulders. “But that’s why we train. We get stronger so we protect the ones we love. This world is cruel and unfair. That can’t stop us from experiencing joy in the meantime.”

“Joy from things like video games and Yamazon?”

Gen stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. “You’re already back to being mean to me? After my heartfelt pep talk?!”

“I’m joking,” you said, a faint smile gracing your lips. “Not used to that, are you, Narumi?”

“Not in the slightest,” he answered, his two toned hair flopping around with every word, “but I’m not mad about seeing you smile more.”

You broke out into an even bigger grin. It might take a long time and a hell of a lot of work, but you were ready to open your heart again—thanks to the comfort from your captain.

[davidtennan-t]

May Noble Guide You. Always.

Donna is always looking out for ways to help her best friend.

Major angst but a happy ending! Inspired by this post, because I still think about Fourteen morning, noon and night.

And yes, Skyrim is involved.

1592 words - also available on AO3

-

“Hey, Spaceman?”

“Yeah, Donna?”

A pause.

“Have you ever dabbled in video games?”

The Doctor glanced up from the toaster he was tinkering with, eyes peeking over the top of his glasses. Even after so many years of travelling, living, experiencing, he was sure he’d never been asked such a question before.

“Hm, not really,” he answered after a second of musing, “never really been my thing, with this face or any of my other faces. Not even the younger version of this face.”

Donna nodded and returned her attention back to her laptop.

An article was open on her screen, which she was attentively scrolling through.

‘Gaming as therapy? Research shows video games can provide distraction and escapism.’

“Oh, wait!”

Donna nearly jumped out of her seat – she still wasn’t used to his sudden outbursts, even if he had been living with them for nearly half a year now, and she had of course travelled with him all those years ago.

Some things never changed.

“Could you announce your brainwaves any louder?” she uttered but turned to listen.

“I once saved Rose from certain death by playing pinball,” the Doctor explained, “true story. And I did have a run-in with Iwatani Tohru when an alien invaded his base model for Pac Man… lovely bloke, he was. There was also that time I tried to stay with the Ponds, played on something called a ‘Wii’. Oh! Yaz once challenged me to a game of Tetris – I wasn’t very good at it.”

Somehow Donna knew that last part was a lie by the way his nose scrunched up. She shook her head in amusement.

“I won’t even ask,” she smirked. The Doctor smirked back and returned to his tinkering.

As she continued to read the article, listening to the sounds of the toaster slowly being dissected, Donna wondered if the idea forming in her mind would be worth it.

She would do anything to help her best friend. Even if they’d found ways and means to help him in this ‘semi-retirement’ period, it didn’t hurt to try new methods.

“Why’d you ask?”

Donna glanced up to the form of the tinkering Time Lord again and smiled.

“No reason, just curious… Rose dabbled with gaming for a while, but I don’t think it’s really her thing.”

The Doctor’s expression formed acknowledgement, just as a couple of screws fell onto the dining table.

“By the way, you know what happened last time you tinkered with that toaster. You can apologise to the fire crew this time, not me,” Donna smirked, “anyway, it’s time for dinner – your turn to make the toasties. And how you’re gonna make them without the toaster, I’ll never know.”

“I’ll use the grill!”

“You nearly blew the house up last time.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes.

Guess it was time to put the toaster back together.

-

A couple of weeks later, the Doctor was riding a storm. It was an invisible one, but Donna could see how hard it was affecting him this time.

Odd little things would begin to happen. His smile wouldn’t be as bright, his movements became slower, and his voice lost its erratic spark – the family were reminded they were living with an old, wounded man who’d been through unimaginable horrors.

It started with a nightmare, this time. Or, maybe it didn’t… Donna told herself the Time Lord didn’t always need a reason to feel the way he did. He didn't need a trigger point.

He’d told her himself – he’d lived a lot and suffered in the fifteen years since they’d travelled together.

He’d lost a lot.

And sometimes, that hit him like a brick wall.

“Doctor?” Donna announced quietly as she walked into the living room. It was just the two of them in the house for the afternoon, but she’d barely saw or spoke to the Doctor since breakfast. He’d hidden in the TARDIS for a while, but then she’d spotted that skinny frame trudging back into the house as she’d pottered in the garden.

And here he was. Sat on the sofa, hunched over, elbows on his skinny legs with his hands hiding his face. His hair seemed messier than normal, and he wasn’t even wearing that waistcoat of his.

“You okay?”

No response.

Donna didn’t hesitate to sit down right beside him, silently letting him know she was close.

Almost immediately, the Doctor uncurled himself with a heavy inhale, realising he wasn’t alone anymore.

Donna didn’t need to see the tear stains on his cheeks to know he’d been crying.

And then, the Doctor shuffled towards her like a wounded animal and wrapped both arms around her, while burying his face into her shoulder.

Donna’s arms wrapped around him in turn without hesitation. She gently held the back of his head, her fingers gently massaging through his hair – he seemed to like that. It calmed him, even if he’d never admit to it.

Silence prolonged for a few minutes.

Donna glanced over at the TV. Or rather, she glanced at the brand-new box sat beside it. A black box with a remote control perched on top. It was funnily shaped, almost like a Sontaran ship.

Obviously, she hadn’t mentioned that part to the checkout man when she’d purchased it.

Perhaps it was time to put that box to use. The box that held these forms of escapism and adventure... maybe it would work, maybe it wouldn’t – but she was willing to give it a try.

“You’re okay, Spaceman,” Donna whispered to break the silence, returning her attention back to the Time Lord, “I’m right here.”

“I know you are,” came the muffled reply from her shoulder – not in his ‘I’m not that dumb’ tone, but rather a proclamation of ‘I’m so glad you’re with me.’

His voice was still shaky and rough, so Donna gently leaned back to rest against the soft cushions of the sofa, while the Doctor followed and tucked himself against her, those long legs curling up like a cheetah after a run. She knew he was feeling rough when he didn’t want to leave her side, not for a while at least.

“M’sorry,” the Doctor said in a muffle. Donna heard the guilt in his voice, and she wouldn’t have it.

“Don’t be so daft,” she said softly, “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again. You’re home… and home is where you’re looked after.”

She kept a hand on the back of his head, stroking through his wiry brown but greying hair. 

And they sat like that for ten minutes. A sad but comfortable silence.

And then, Donna decided it was time – time to see if that box beside the TV could bring her best friend a new form of comfort.

“I have something for you to try,” she announced.

The Doctor knew what those words meant. It meant Donna was trying for him. His old, arrogant and younger-self wouldn’t have entertained any such ideas she laid out for him, but now, he did… he wanted to.

“What’s that?” the Doctor asked, sniffing lightly.

“Wait here,” Donna told him, gently easing herself away from the Doctor so she could get up and walk to the TV.

The Doctor watched, intrigued, as the TV lit up and beeps emitted from the large black box, now glowing green.

He didn’t question anything. Not even when Donna returned to him with some sort of controller in hand. He sat up and took it from her when she offered it out to him.

“It’s all set up for you. Rose helped me do it… pick any game you like. I’ll be making supper if you need me.”

-

An hour or so later, Donna hadn’t heard a peep from the Doctor.

All she could hear over the boiling potatoes and the rather noisy air fryer, where odd sounds coming from the TV. With everything prepped and ready, Rose and Shaun due home shortly, she took off her oven mitts and returned to the living room.

There, she found the Doctor, in a very different state to how she’d found him earlier.

He was perched on the edge of the sofa, but his head wasn’t in his hands this time.

Instead, his long fingers were gripping the controller, his tired but intrigued eyes watching the screen while his thumbs moved the joysticks.

Donna’s heart suddenly felt very, very full.

“Enjoying yourself?” she asked.

The Doctor didn’t stop what he was doing – on the screen, there was a cat-like creature wearing rags running around a medieval looking city.

“I used to be an adventurer like you… then I took an arrow in the knee.”  Came a voice from the TV, between the calming melody of music.

Donna didn’t have a clue about any of it, but she smiled.

“It’s interesting, I’ll give you that,” finally came the reply. “I’m supposed to be alerting some Jarl about a dragon. But I thought the flowers were more interesting, so I’m collecting them.”

Donna still didn’t have a clue, but she nodded.

“Okay, well, not too much longer, mister… Shaun and Rose will be back shortly, and supper is nearly ready.”

“Whatever you say, Mum,” the Doctor acknowledged.

Donna shook her head with a smile and decided to return to the kitchen.

“Donna-”

She stopped, looking back towards the sofa. The Doctor was looking at her, a small smile on his face. A smile which she could see was ladened with an appreciation, perhaps some relief, even.

“This is helping,” he said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Spaceman.”

[slippinninque]

😤Fussy 😤

Fontaine x black reader

Fontaine listens on as you get some things off your chest.

Warnings: fluff, cursing, fussy!reader, long fic, before work drop so may have some typos before I can edit lol

Fontaine can tell the difference between you being angry and you being fussy.

One would entail a cold front of emotions, you turned into an absolute Ice Queen when angry.

Fussy, on the other hand, Fontaine found you to be utterly adorable. He would never dare to say this as the Ice Queen will appear, but he did keep his smiles to himself.

You reminded him of a video he saw of a kitten at the vets office, just meowing and screaming at the audacity of being taken care of.

How you stomped around the house like an angry little bear, your lil' flip flops slapping frantically as you tried to remember what you came into the room for.

If he saw you wince when taking off your bra or feel you tossing in turning in bed, he knew what was coming. He kept the heating pad and ice cream bars ready.

The wrinkle in your nose? The sharpness to your gaze? The one dimple that came out when you purses your lips? Fontaine was weak for it.

He rather you have a rough day and come home spitting fire rather than see you tripping over your tears.

Fontaine knew you were a pot of emotions and not everyone that poured out may be pleasant, but he loved you more than enough for that not to matter. What mattered to you mattered to him. While he may rob you or poke fun, Fontaine will still offer any help you may need.

--------

"Whatchu doin', pretty?"

"Locking up."

"Mhn. Sound mad, you okay?"

"...smch, I'm fine. This dang-darn-damn-fuckin'-fuck ass gate won't close!

Fontaine choked on the other end of the line and you paused in wrestling with the iron gate. It was never the same since the Disastrous Book Fair of 2018. Poor thing.

"Don't you be sayin' that out loud, baby. No one should know yo' gate don't work."

"What? What they goin' do, burgle some damn books? At the free book house?"

"Damn, that's what they callin' libraries now?"

You growled into your phone as you strained to keep the latch lines up just enough to flip the lock.

"That's what Imma call 'em now. D'you know this old man got mad at me 'cause I wouldn't show him how to pull up titty pictures?!"

"Mn! Bold as hell."

"Right? Then gonna look me up an' down and ask for someone else t--!"

You gasped then shrieked as the latched pinched your finger before settling into place. Rage doused you and before you could recall yourself--you dropped your bag and kicked the gate.

"Fuck you, fucking broke-ass, rusty-ass, tragic-ass gate! Imma turn yo' ass into scrap!"

Furiously stabbing the lock home and finally securing the gate, you grabbed your fallen items. Still ranting and raving under your breath, you did take a look around to see you were alone before tattling to Fontaine.

"The gate fucking bit me..."

"Just come on home, baby, okay?" Fontaine's voice gentle and it somehow only fueled your indignation.

"I am," You snapped as you stomped towards your car, "I want to cuddle. Hard."

------

Yowling, crowing, and calling --you told on the day you had. Unreasonably unsatisfied patrons, rinky-dink electronics that should have been swapped out ages ago, and to top it all off the A/C died as the day reached its muggiest.

"That was when I decided to leave the house." You muttered, staring gloomily down at the bump of your belly beneath the seat belt.

You were only bloated but you hated how you looked like you were expecting in your favorite skirt. Your hair wasn't fuzzy in the way you liked and your locs were staging a rebellion.

As you crawled through the late-afternoon traffic, you noted that your tank was nearing half. You always kept a full tank if you could help it.

"I ain't worried 'bout that car," Fontaine's voice held no room for argument through the car speakers, "I'll take your car an' fill it up later--I asked you to come on home."

When Fontaine wouldn't let you stop for gas, you huffed and puffed to his unceasing fondness. All up until you pulled down the street and into your driveway.

As soon as you came through the door, Fontaine was there to meet you. He took away your purse and pulled you into his arms, despite your grumblings.

"I could have done it, y'know." You grumbled into his chest. It felt good to be home. It felt better being in Fontaine's arms but there was a restlessness under your skin. You resisted the urge to bite the

"I want to do it for you, how's that?" Fontaine countered before he began running his hands over your aching shoulders. You grumbled, momentarily lost in the feel of his hands on you.

Then you remembered your outrage.

"No, I wanted to do it 'cause I was out and I could have gotten my cinnamon bun early. I could have slept in an extra 5 minutes..."

He leaned put his lips to your ear, "Then how 'bout I get you your cinnamon bun, too. Hm?"

"I guess..."

"Yeah?"

His lips trailed softly around your neck to kiss your cheek, arms tightening around you enough that the next sigh that escaped you wasn't as hostile.

Fontaine took your silence as acceptance as he lead you away from the door and past the living room.

"I want to sit." You muttered, enticed by the blanket nest you made the previous night. Fontaine held you fast with as tsk and insisted you shower.

Your aggravation flared but before you could open your mouth to complain, Fontaine kissed you again. He grabbed a handful of your ass in tandem, swallowing down your surprised yelp.

"Get in there and clean up, Imma feed you and you can tell me all about it."

He released you with a pat to your ass and a "go on now" slant to his eyes. Stomping your foot was all you could think to do before turning on your heel and going towards the bathroom.

-------

The shower did help to loosen your body but the wrinkle in your brow remained as you left the bathroom.

Fontaine met you with another kiss, pressing a plate into your hands before wordlessly setting you toward the couch. You gratefully settled into your blanket nest and released a huff, your comfort and hunger coming at once.

Still...

You didn't eat. You craned your neck over the couch to try and see into the kitchen, only to be caught by Fontaine as he balanced his dinner and drinks for the both of you.

"I'm comin', baby." His knowing grin warmed your face as you settled back down. Then you registered what was on the screen and perked up, absentmindedly reaching for your folk.

"You don't mind, do you? You can put on somethin'--

"No, no--I want to see you play."

Fontaine had a talent for eating dinner and keeping himself alive on GTA. You liked the chaos of the game and Fontaine liked to ride around to cause some just for you.

By the time your fork hit the ceramic of the plate, Fontaine was joined by a few of his homies though he didn't bother with the headset. You watched them challenge rivals and loot their spots. The action sucked you in and hearing the gang laugh together and crack jokes loosened your frown up.

Belly full and suddenly feeling very lazy, you fell over to lay in his lap. Fontaine chuckled and leaned down to press a kiss to your temple. He shifted to put his feet up on the table, giving you more room to lay out and face the TV.

"Feel better fusspot?"

Maybe a bit pouty but the only remainder of your annoyance came from your bandaged finger. You could not recall too much, not while settled on Fontaine's warm thighs and perfectly encased in your blanket.

Content was creeping back into your chest, shooing away the yucky feeling and returning your balance. All you had to say about your day has been said ten times over, the horse was buried by now.

"...Yeah. I feel better."

Looking up at him in time to catch his fond smile, you felt the rest of your ire fade away. You just had an off day and you would have a better one tomorrow.

Now was time to enjoy the night with your man.

-----------

Ending notes: another before work drop of something that was flying around my mind! 🤣Tell me what you think and give me some prompts! Im slow but I love to get them! Please comment and reblog! 💕💜✨

✨taglist: ✨@megamindsecretlair @thadelightfulone @mag1calenchantr3ss @cocoeffects @wide-nose-and-wonderful @8ttached @thadelightfulone @hobiesmain @thickeeparker @longpause-awkwardsmile @ms-angiealsina @educatorsareslutstoo @mysterychick93 @sageispunk@hunnishive@notapradagurl7@mcondance@longpause-awkwardsmile@ms-angiealsina@educatorsareslutstoo@miyuhpapayuh@mogul93 @kindofaintrovert@blowmymbackout @mcondance @kindofanenigma @eggnox

[gemsofthegalaxy]

Jinx vs Powder, which is it? - Discussing the Present Moment and lack of an "end state"

Upon watching Season 2 I was a bit conflicted on the idea of Powder vs Jinx, and in thinking about it, the conundrum reminded me of some gripes I've seen many people reference about the season as a whole, which I will get into as this analysis goes on. First off, though, I didn't know how to feel on the whole Powder vs Jinx idea. The show makes such a huge deal of it in Season 1 and it ends with the "resolution". it's Jinx. Powder is gone, fell down a well, the final time.

Only for this conflict to continue on in Season 2, be a constant push and pull when we felt like the question was answered already! Jinx is Jinx, walks through life a shell of a person for a bit, then Isha comes into her life and throws everything into question. She has something to care about, someone to love, which feels a little more like ol Powder, and then that increases again and again by the reemergence of Vander, who calls her Powder, on top of the fact that months after declaring each other "no longer sisters", Vi's back in her life and they're getting along again, just like that.

This, of course, gets ripped out from under her again in no time as well. Jinx drops to her lowest point, Vi tries to save her, she forsakes her and runs away and tells her not to worry about her anymore. She knows, now, there's no good version of her, everyone who gets close to her gets hurt or dies. This happens, again and again.

Then, Ekko comes back after a whole episode dedicated to him meeting AU Powder. Powder as she could have been, as we might even think we want her to be. A Powder with a loving family and a good measure less trauma in her life. In some ways, this might affirm the idea that this is Powder, and our Jinx is Jinx. But we also see that this version of Powder reignites Ekko's hope in our Jinx, even though we know the reason they're so different is she hasn't lived that same life.

So. Ekko convinces Jinx, somehow, they can always build something new. What he means is she can always try again. She said, hours ago, possibly not even, "there's no good version of me" and Ekko (even having not heard that) says "bullshit, I just saw a version of you that was good." And then there's another aspect to it, AU Silco's message: there's no greater power than to forgive. Ekko forgives Jinx, forgives himself for giving up on her, and wants her to forgive herself. Now, it might have been nice to see more of this conversation, but, I think we can infer that all the lessons Ekko took from the AU verse were things he would at least start trying to instill upon Jinx. To plant the seed, if you will, that she can forgive herself, she can build something new, she can be whoever she damn well wants to be. Powder, Jinx- does it really even matter? What she calls herself is beside the point. What matters is what she's doing now, and what she ends up doing is joining Ekko in the fight.

I watched a great video essay that dissected a bit of Ekko's character and one of the reasons he's so good-hearted is that he is present-focused. In fact, he's one of the only characters who is present-focused and remains so most of the time. Powder/Jinx, and Vi, they're stuck in the past. Viktor and Jayce are trying to force the future to come towards them, Silco's also obsessed with making a future dream happen while allowing his past to harden him to all connection outside of Jinx, Heimerdinger is so far in the future he can't understand the day-to-day issues small or large that humans face. Ekko cares about what is happening now. He's a man of action. And his power, his z-drive, also exemplifies how things can change, moment-to-moment, he goes back in time briefly so he can make the best of the exact present he's in and get it right.

Which actually speaks to something bigger in Season 2 I've seen people have gripes about, how some conflicts get resolved very easily between characters with a lot of tension between them, mostly Cait and Vi, and how longstanding political issues get dropped for bigger political plots. I've talked about why Vi reacts how she does to Cait in the prison cell scene, but I haven't touched on when they meet at the commune, but I think it also sort of fits well into the theme of present-focused = morally good. Cait has been on a descent into worse behaviour, but, she's been waffling too. She doesn't fully trust Ambessa or know where she lies on matters. So, the moment she sees Vi again, she's given a new option, a new out, and she makes use of it rather than mince words about who did what or why. I don't necessarily think this is a bad thing, and Vi, as someone who appreciates action and is protective, would also probably see this favourably (although, they do get around to arguing a bit more later, which I think is fitting)

Now, I understand why people are frustrated that the Piltover vs Zaun conflict takes a backseat. It's something that I do think could have been handled better, but, I also feel like I understand a bit what they were going for here. Yes, they've been embroiled in this conflict for a long time, but right now, in this moment, if they don't stand together they're that much more likely to lose. You can't fight for the existence of a nation that was wiped off the very map by an outside force.

Again, being present-focused and dealing with what is happening now is the only way to deal with Noxus marching on them. They cannot continue to worry about locking Jinx up or striking a deal for independence, again, there's not gonna be a nation of Zaun if Noxus takes over, either. I get why this is frustrating, but, I think it's realistic and I don't think it's counter to the story they've been telling, especially not in Season 2.

The whole Jinx vs Powder thing doesn't get to be tied up with a little bow on it, because Powder will always, always, always be what Jinx was named as a baby, and she will never not have been a child called Powder with the same blue hair she has now. There's no version of her (in Arcane, anyway) who wasn't insecure and brainy as a child and didn't go through some heartbreaking stuff. Silco told her to let Powder die, because he let his former self die and it made him stronger- but did he really? He still wistfully sits at Vander's statue, pours out a drink for him, and laments over fatherhood. Does that sound like a man who has left Vander in the past? As well, he's still desperately afraid of losing Jinx, showing there's something of the humanity left that he clings to. If Silco was alive to meet Vander's new form, surely they would have had words, even for all Silco said he was a changed man. Maybe they would have even had the power to forgive, AU Silco did.

The thing is, for as long as Jinx is alive, she will be inventing herself every day, for the rest of her life, she doesn't just get to decide she's "done" now. We are all the sum of everything we've ever done + what we decide to do in this moment. We all carry our histories into what we do next. There's no final state of being a person who's still alive and breathing, things will always change, new experiences will happen and shape us or give us new ideas or affirm our previous thoughts. This is also true on a societal level, no country or city or town stays completely static, there is no Done, the world just keeps on turning and things will develop, systems will rise and fall and be torn down and be built up.

As long as we're alive, there's always a chance to build something new.

[putschki1969]

2024/11/28 Blog post by Wakana FCのドウガ‼︎をアップしたよ！〜版画と金魚とシチューの季節〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

I Uploaded a New Fan Club Video! 〜The Season of Art Prints and Gold Fish〜

Here are the postcards that I will send to the fan club members whose messages I read during my last podcast😊 The postcards feature gorgeous art prints of the Nikko landscape. I bought them at a shop just outside Nikko Toshogu Shrine🍁 They look so nice😳✨ Postcards with landscape photos are always lovely but this sort of print style has a very specific charm so I like it😊 The moment I saw them, I knew I had to get them for you😊 Sadly I forgot to take a picture of the Same-chan stickers...😭 This time I made brown Same-chans with autumn colours in mind🦈 Everyone, please wait a little while longer until you receive your present~✋

Hello, this is Wakana(0￣▽￣0)／

Now, as always, I would like to post a little reminder for the next episode's talk theme! ! ＼＼\\٩( 'ω' )و //／／ It will be posted on December 10th which happens to be my birthday so I'll talk about birthdays😆🎂 The theme is 【Everyone's recommended ways to spend your birthday】! Please tell me about your birthday routine, things you do every year, things you eat, places you go, and other favourite ways to spend your birthday!! ! I'd be happy if you told me things you want me to eat or do!

By the way, I'm planning to rehearse at the studio on my birthday this year, so I'm really excited to be able to spend my first day of the new year singing ＼(^o^)／ I'm looking forward to seeing everyone🤗 The deadline for podcast submissions is November 30th! I'm looking forward to your messages~!! ･:*+.\(( °ω° ))/.:+

Today I also uploaded a new fan club video＼＼\\٩( 'ω' )و //／／ I filmed this at "Art Aquarium Museum Ginza" which I posted about on Instagram the other day😊🐟💕 Please take a look at the many goldfish😍 I went with my family and we took a lot of pictures but somehow I ended up not being in any of the videos😂 I was way too busy filming my family (My brother was on a long-term business trip overseas, so I focused on filming my niece so we could send him a bunch of videos😂) At any rate, please enjoy this lovely goldfish video and a few more photos that I didn't post on Instagram＼(^o^)／

Last but not least, some of my recent meals🥦 I've been really into stews lately so I make them often! 🍳 But curry is still delicious too! 🍛 And I also often eat hot pot! 🍲 It's getting cold, so these sort of dishes are very comforting and keep you warm~🤤

Well, that's all for today! Until next time~( *'▽'*)/

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

2024/11/17 Instagram post by Wakana

A while ago, I went to the Art Aquarium Museum Ginza with my niece☺️ The theme was "A Fantastic Autumn Night with Goldfish," so there were lots of goldfish!! 🐟️💕 Many goldfish were displayed in various tanks, beautifully lit up and swimming✨There were many other exhibits besides the ones in the photos, so it was really fun🧚 I tried to do a "Kamehameha" pose just like my niece😂 On the way back, I bought a goldfish stuffed toy at the souvenir shop for her🧸(Source)

[cheynovak]

Texas sky – part 5 

Summary: Y/N, a former cast member of Supernatural, had left Texas for LA several years ago, citing career reasons but also escaping unresolved personal issues. During a reunion party in Austin, she reconnects with Jensen Ackles, who is still married to Danneel but also struggling with his own difficulties.  He confronts Y/N about her sudden departure and their past, hoping things might turn out differently this time.  

Warnings: Friend to lovers, old love rediscovering, marriage problems, cheating, alcohol, hurt, anger, fluff, story with smut, ...  

English is not my first language   

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

The morning started like any other, with the familiar ding of notifications pulling me out of bed. I absentmindedly scrolled through my social media, expecting the usual flood of fan posts and pictures from conventions. Jensen had been overseas for weeks, and while I tried to keep my distance, his texts and calls were a constant reminder of the unresolved tension between us. I could feel in my bones that he was going to beg me to reconsider, to give him more time, to hold on just a little longer. But I was exhausted, worn down by the emotional toll of it all. I didn’t think I had another fight left in me.

Then I saw it.

My thumb hovered over the screen as the headlines and fan theories exploded across my feed. Fans were buzzing with speculation, piecing together clues that had been floating around for days. The most glaring detail? Jensen hadn’t been wearing his wedding ring. But nothing could have prepared me for what came next.

A video from a panel Danneel had done the day before started autoplaying on my feed. She stood alone on stage, her expression a mix of bitterness and sadness. My heart raced as I hit play, dreading what I was about to hear.

Danneel didn’t mince words. She addressed the rumors head-on, explaining that she and Jensen were separated. She paused, her gaze hardening, and then she dropped the bombshell that made my stomach twist into knots.

“He’s been unfaithful,” she said, her voice cold and steady. The room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. “That’s why I’ve chosen not to do any photo ops with him. I need to take care of myself, and I won’t pretend everything’s fine when it’s not.”

I could barely breathe as I watched the video, my heart sinking further with every word. Danneel’s accusation felt like a punch to the gut, the kind that knocks the wind out of you and leaves you reeling. My mind raced, trying to make sense of it all.

She told the people she had her suspicions for a very long time, she didn't say my name but she mentioned it being a long time friend and co worker of him. The implications of what she was saying were too much to process. I knew there were problems between them, that much was clear, but hearing it confirmed in such a public, final way was devastating.

In the following panels, I saw Jensen trying desperately to put out the fire. His attempts to smooth things over were met with mixed reactions, the fans divided between those who supported him and those who sided with Danneel.

He explained it wasn't just a one time thing, that he fell in love and fell hard, that he and Danneel had been together for the public eye, not wanting to discuss anything publicly. Asking for his kids sake to let it be. Even though she made his life a living hell, he never said one bad word about Danneel. Taking the blame all on him.

The speculation was growing, spreading like wildfire across social media. It felt like the walls were closing in, the secret world we had shared crumbling around us.

My phone buzzed in my hand, and I glanced down to see a text from Jensen.

“Call me. Please.”

My hand shook as I read the message, the words blurring on the screen as tears welled up in my eyes. I wanted to call him, to hear his voice and somehow make sense of this mess. But I was paralyzed, unable to move, my thoughts spinning out of control.

I knew Jensen would beg me to stay, to stick by him through this storm. He would tell me he loved me, that he needed more time to figure things out. But Danneel’s words kept echoing in my mind, louder and louder until I couldn’t think straight.

“He’s been unfaithful.”

The guilt hit me like a tidal wave, pulling me under and drowning me in regret. I had been the reason for their separation, I was the one who had pushed Jensen to this point? The thought was unbearable, a weight on my chest that made it hard to breathe.

I felt horrible.

With trembling hands, I typed out a reply.

“J, I know we need to talk, but not like this. Not now. I’m sorry.”

I tried to hold my ground, to keep the distance I knew we needed, but Jensen didn’t let go. My phone rang again, his name flashing on the screen, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer. Then, a notification popped up—voicemail. I hesitated, knowing that whatever he had to say would only make this harder, but I couldn’t ignore it.

With a deep breath, I pressed play. The moment his voice filled my ears, my heart broke all over again. He sounded devastated, his words shaky and broken, and I could hear the unmistakable sound of tears in his voice.

“Please, just listen,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know she was going to do this. Before we left for Europe, Danneel said she wanted to come along to help our relationship, to work on us. I thought... I thought we were going to, I don't know, talk about how to work things out with the kids and divorce and all. I tried to reach you, to tell that I left her. Please just... call me."

He took a deep breath.

"She blindsided me. I had no idea she was planning to say all that. I swear, I never wanted to hurt you. I’m so sorry.”

He paused, his breath hitching as he tried to compose himself, but the next words came out in a choked sob. “I love you. I need you. Please, don’t shut me out. I don’t know what to do without you.”

The voicemail ended, leaving me sitting there in silence, my chest aching with the weight of his words. I could picture him, alone and broken, thousands of miles away, and the thought of him hurting like this was unbearable.

I couldn’t keep doing this to him, or to myself.

Without thinking, I grabbed my phone and called him back. The line barely rang before he picked up.

“Jensen,” I said, my voice trembling. “Where are you?”

He sounded relieved, almost desperate as he answered. “I’m in London for a couple of days. I would really want to see you.”

I didn’t hesitate. As soon as I hung up, I booked the next flight out. I didn’t know what I was going to say when I saw him, but I knew I had to be there. The distance, the silence, none of it mattered anymore. All that mattered was that he needed me, and I couldn’t let him go through this alone.

The hours until my flight felt like an eternity, my mind racing with what might happen when I arrived. Part of me was scared, terrified of what this might mean for us, for the mess that our lives had become. But another part of me, the part that still loved him with every fiber of my being, knew that I couldn’t stay away.

Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, I boarded the plane. The flight was a blur, my thoughts consumed by the sound of his voice in that voicemail, the pain in his words. I replayed it over and over in my mind, each time feeling the tug of his need pulling me closer to him.

When the plane touched down in London, I was filled with a mix of anxiety and determination. I knew that whatever happened next could change everything, but I couldn’t let that stop me. Jensen needed me, and that was all that mattered.

I stepped out of the terminal, my heart pounding as I scanned the crowd for him. And then I saw him—standing there, looking as lost as I felt, his eyes searching for me wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. The moment our eyes met, all the fear and uncertainty melted away, replaced by a deep, undeniable pull towards him.

I walked towards him, my steps quickening as I closed the distance between us. He looked exhausted, his face etched with pain and sleepless nights, but the moment I reached him, his arms wrapped around me, pulling me close.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he buried his face in my hair. “I never meant for any of this to happen, not like this not publicly.”

I held him tight, feeling the warmth of his body against mine, and for the first time in weeks, I allowed myself to let go. The weight of everything we’d been through seemed to melt away as I pressed my lips to his, not caring if anyone saw. Jensen didn’t care either; he kissed me back with a desperation that made my heart ache.

When we finally pulled away, I noticed a few people in the crowd recognizing him—recognizing us. But Jensen didn’t flinch. He grabbed my luggage with one hand, keeping his other arm securely around my waist as we made our way through the terminal. He only stopped once, briefly, to sign an autograph for a fan who had hesitated before approaching us.

“No pictures today,” he said gently, offering a tired smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The fan nodded, understanding, and thanked him before Jensen turned back to me and we continued walking.

I’d seen Jensen interact with fans countless times, and he almost never turned down a request for a photo. But today, I could see why he had to say no. He looked exhausted, like the life had been sucked out of him, his usual energy replaced by something heavy and dark.

--

We finally made it to his hotel room, the door closing behind us with a soft click. The room was quiet, almost eerily so, a stark contrast to the chaos that had been swirling around us. Jensen set my luggage down and turned to me, his expression a mix of relief and something deeper—something that spoke to how much he had been holding in.

“Thank you for coming,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, stepping closer to him. “Of course, J. I couldn’t just stay away, I just... needed time.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing my cheek as he searched my eyes for something—reassurance, comfort, maybe even forgiveness. “I’ve missed you so much,” he confessed, his voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t know what to do, how to fix any of this.”

I took his hand in mine, squeezing it gently. “We’ll figure it out,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “Don't we always?”

Jensen pulled me into another embrace, holding on like he was afraid I might disappear if he let go. I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and for a moment, we just stood there, clinging to each other as if the world outside didn’t exist.

After a few minutes, Jensen finally pulled back, his eyes searching mine.

We moved over to the couch, and he sat down beside me, our legs brushing against each other. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on his back.

“Talk to me, Jensen,” I urged gently. “What’s going on in your head?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back against the couch. “Everything’s a mess,” he admitted, his voice low. “I thought I could keep it together, keep everything separate, but it’s all falling apart. I never though she would hit such a low blow."

I reached out, placing a hand on his arm, feeling the tension radiate through him. “You told her about us?” I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper. The weight of the question hung between us, the answer holding so much more than just words.

Jensen nodded, his eyes clouded with a mixture of regret and resolve. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I told her everything. About how I feel about you… how I’ve always felt.” He paused, swallowing hard before continuing. “She tried to dismiss it, saying it would change, that it was just a phase, but I told her it wasn’t. I asked for a divorce.”

My breath caught at his admission. “And?”

“She said no,” Jensen replied, a bitter edge to his tone. “She’s refusing to let go, saying I’ll come around, that it’s just a rough patch. But now she’s telling everyone her side, twisting the story to make it look like I’m the one at fault, that I’ve been unfaithful. She’s dealing the cards her way, trying to make me the villain.”

"And I know in a way I am guilty, I did cheat I know that. But no one knows how many year I put up with her, just for the kids."

The pain in his eyes was palpable, and without thinking, I leaned in and kissed him, pouring every ounce of my feelings into it, hoping to ease the hurt even just a little. When I pulled back, his gaze was searching mine, fear flickering in his eyes.

“I’m afraid this will push you away again,” he confessed, his voice trembling slightly.

I shook my head firmly, realizing in that moment that he had chosen me, that despite everything, he was here with me. “I’ll never leave you,” I promised, my voice steady with certainty.

Relief washed over his features as he pulled me closer, his arms wrapping around me like he was afraid I might slip away if he let go. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

But I silenced him before he could continue, pressing my lips to his in a heated kiss, pouring everything into it—my love, my fear, my hope. The kiss deepened, our breaths mingling, our bodies molding together as if trying to erase the distance that had been between us for so long.

His hands moved to cup my face, his thumbs brushing away the tears I hadn’t realized had started to fall. “I love you,” he whispered against my lips, the words raw and filled with a desperation that mirrored my own.

“I love you too,” I whispered back, the truth of it echoing in every beat of my heart. "I've always loved you." The confession hung in the air between us, a truth that had been buried for far too long. Jensen pulled me closer, his hands wandering over my body as if trying to memorize every inch of me. I could feel the tension in his grip, the way his fingers trembled slightly as they traced the curves of my back.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice breaking as tears welled up in his eyes. The raw emotion in his words tugged at my heart, and I nodded, feeling my own tears threatening to spill over.

“I’ve missed you too,” I replied softly, my voice thick with emotion. I pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, trying to offer some comfort. “It’s late, J. You probably need to get some sleep.”

He looked at me, his eyes searching mine, vulnerable in a way I hadn’t seen before. “Will you stay tonight?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid I might say no.

I smiled softly, my heart swelling with love for him. “If you want me to,” I said, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “I’ll stay every night from now on.”

The relief that washed over his face was palpable, and he pulled me into a tight embrace, burying his face in the crook of my neck whispering. "I'd hoped you'd say that."

--

Jensen crawled into bed, his movements slow and heavy with exhaustion. From the bathroom, I watched him through the open door, brushing my teeth as I saw him fighting to stay awake. His eyelids drooped, and I could see the weight of everything he’d been carrying in the lines of his face. It broke my heart to see him like this—a wonderful man who didn’t deserve any of the distress he was going through.

As I rinsed my mouth, my thoughts drifted to all the “what ifs” that had haunted me for so long. What if I had been more straightforward about my feelings from the beginning? Would he returned the feelings a little earlier?

What if I had let him stay that night before his wedding, when he had been so vulnerable and unsure? Could I have saved him from all of this?

But those thoughts were a double-edged sword, filled with regret and longing. All I wanted now was for him to be happy, to find some peace in the chaos that had become his life.

When I finally joined him in bed, sliding under the covers, I felt his arm instinctively wrap around me. He muttered something under his breath, his voice thick with sleep, “It’s about time,” he said, his words barely audible as he nestled his face against my chest.

I kissed his hair, feeling the tension in his body slowly melt away as he held me close. “Sleep now,” I whispered, my fingers gently running through his hair in soothing strokes.

Jensen let out a content sigh, his breath warm against my skin. His body relaxed completely, his breathing evening out as he finally succumbed to the exhaustion that had been plaguing him. I held him like that, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against mine, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a sense of calm between us.

As I lay there, watching over him while he slept, I made a silent promise to myself—to do whatever it took to make sure he found happiness, to stand by him through whatever came next. And as the night wore on, with Jensen safe in my arms, I finally felt like we were on the path to something better.

--

Let me know what you think, like, share or comment <3 If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Taglist: -> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read!

@kr804573 @nancymcl@suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @call-me-mrs-winchester

@winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy @n-o-p-e-never @stefansring @mayafatimakhan

[sexybabystevie]

Hi! I just saw you reply the Steve comparing hands as flirting and I had to also then check that your requests are open, they are 😂 so could I please request that one? I had a boy flirt with me in grade 7 by doing that with shoes/feet (mind you I was oblivious 😂) and that reminded me of it and I had a giggle.

A/n: Okay so first of all, thank you for this request! It's SO cute, and I planned on this being maybe 1k, but it turned into a bigger fic, which I'm not mad about lol. This is seriously one of the softest things I have EVER written and I adore it. Like seriously, this has my heartbeat skipping down sixteenth avenue type shit 😭 Anyway, enjoy some soft Stevie, Family-Video-loserboy-with-a -crush style!

Small Hands, Big Heart

Steve Harrington x Reader

Tags and Warnings: No Warnings, Pure Fluff, Soft!Steve Harrington, Semi-Shy!Reader, Flirting, Steve Harrington is a Major Dork, Family Video!Steve Harrington, Crushes, Hand Holding, Tooth-Rottening Fluff.

Word Count: 3581

Summary: Steve Harrington has a massive crush on you, but his recent lack of luck in the romantic sense has him stuck on how to make a move. Plus, something about you makes him nervous in a way he's never been – in a way he likes.

His simplest solution? Flirting via the old 'comparing hand sizes' method.

Steve Harrington Masterlist

There’s an air about you – something laid back and relaxed, comfortable and familiar – that strikes Steve Harrington every time you walk into Family Video. Hair perfectly styled even on the days when you’re in sweatpants, gliding around the store like some kind of celebrity on the red carpet, he can practically see the golden, glittering stars surrounding your body like an angelic halo. You don’t even notice though, he can always tell in the way that you smile at him as you shyly ask if there’s a copy of Pretty in Pink available, like you might somehow be imposing upon him by asking him to do his job. Like he wouldn’t set his entire workplace on fire for you if you batted your pretty eyelashes and asked him to.

Okay, yeah, he’s in deep. Deeper than he should be for some enchanting stranger, that’s for sure.

But you’re cool. Yeah, that’s it, cool, and what’s he supposed to do? Just not think about slipping a paper with his number inside the case of the latest movie you decide to rent? Not have Robin point out how he gets lost in romantic fantasies while staring at you, completely forgetting to tend to the other customers in the store? As if.

No, Steve thinks he’s not about to let this go, even if it means eventually messing things up by accidentally saying his favorite genre of movies is boobies – massive apology to Rachel Moore for that disaster, although at least Robin found new reason to start up another You Rule, You Suck chart on one of the fancy sticky notes embellished with the Family Video logo. Yeah, that was great.

So far, he’s losing zero to twelve, a score that’s humiliatingly worse than anything he ever achieved – or didn’t achieve – working at Scoops Ahoy, and he doesn’t even have to wear that stupid hat anymore. His self-proclaimed best quality is flawless and in full view of anyone around, a little messier than his high school days but stylistically so, and yet he still can’t work the charm like he could just a few years ago. If it wasn’t the ridiculous sailor uniform or the hat that covered up his hair, then did he just lack game entirely?

No, absolutely not. He still had it, and he was going to prove it. He would find some way to talk to you – really talk to you, not just the small conversation he’d make while searching your name into the computer system to charge your account – and he would pull it off. He was going to get a perfect grade from Miss Professor Robin, doctorate in the study of loser and non-loser romantic interactions. So much so that she would have to give him a million You Rule tally marks, something totally achievable and normal to want, he was certain.

Were you out of his league? Absolutely. Did that deter his persistence? Not at all.

He was going to do this, even if it turned out to be a dumpster fire. Even if his hair wasn’t looking exactly the way he wanted it to be. Even if Robin was jokingly preying on his downfall in that long-time-best-friend way that she did. Even if the doorbell was ringing right now to signal your superstar arrival, and even if you were flashing him a smile that literally made him forget how to breathe for approximately forty-seven seconds.

Shit.

Steve’s leaning forward, his elbows plastered to the countertop, almost falling over it because he’s so glued to watching you. You give him a little wave that nearly sends him toppling backwards into the floor – now that he thinks of it, are you sure you aren’t a god with some kind of wind powers? You certainly are pretty enough to be one – before beelining straight to the romcom section. Like usual. He can’t help but smile to himself, definitely the lovesick puppy look Robin said he had mastered recently.

As you peruse the movies in stock, his mind does its typical wandering. Romantic-comedy seemed to be your favorite movie genre, but what was your favorite type of music? Favorite food, favorite color? Were you more into pop music, sweet vanilla cupcakes, and various shades of lilac, or did you prefer the darker hues of colors, savory cheeseburgers, and something a little more lyrically intense? Or were you a mix of both, maybe even neither?

Everything about you was addictively unknown; you were a package of silly little mysteries he wanted to unwrap bit by bit, saving the more intimate and personal details for later. The best for last, right? Thinking of the possibilities was driving him wild, though, because how could he not know your all-time favorite song yet? And, god forbid, your favorite ice cream flavor? Now that was something he was skilled in – he’d probably never forget the sweet but slightly nutty scent of pistachio ice cream ever in his lifetime – and maybe he could show you that. Would it impress you if he let you try the mean banana split he could conjure up? It was good enough to be the primary thing Erica Sinclair ever ordered from the ice cream parlor, even demanding that Steve be the one to make it himself instead of the other workers. Poor Robin – or maybe lucky Robin, knowing the sass of the young girl all too well. Yeah, lucky Robin, for sure.

But maybe Steve could be lucky too. He knew the moves other guys his age made, flirtatious comments that were borderline crude – and yeah, okay, he admits he has occasional conversations about boobies – but he doesn’t want to play that kind of game with you. He doesn’t want to be like all the other guys, expendable and almost disrespectful in his mannerisms and language; no, he wants to treat you right. He wants to be good to you, to treat you with all the care and love and wonder of a da Vinci painting, and if he’s finally lucky then maybe you’ll let him, because, really, what did the Mona Lisa even have on someone as beautiful as you, anyway?

Robin’s elbow crashes into Steve’s side a little too forcefully, which she seems to be aware of since she gives him a slightly serious, apologetic grimace before her eyes become knowing in that way that he sometimes is afraid of. Her head jerks to the leftt and she leans in to whisper, “Incoming, ten o’clock. Shoot your shot, dingus!”

It takes him too much time to realize that she means ten o’clock as in the direction the little hand of a clock makes, though, and he doesn’t have time to prepare his lines before you’re at the counter with a VHS tape between your fingers. He doesn’t even have time to properly wipe away his token furrowed brows of confusion, so when he turns to look at you, there’s a moment where his face is half grimace, half giant smile. Your eyes narrow a bit, undeniably trying to understand what that face is about, and Steve internally face palms. Great start, Harrington, you probably look like a total nutjob.

He quickly shakes himself out of it and relaxes his face into a kind smile, leaning off of the counter to make room for you to slide your movie on top of it. You do, but he’s too busy staring into your eyes – has he ever seen eyes as magnetic, as charming as yours? – to really notice.

“Hey,” he says, just like he’s talking to any other pleasant customer, except his voice is softer, more gentle. “How are you doing?” Unlike with any other customer, he genuinely wants to know the answer.

The way your eyes light up as he asks… he didn’t possibly think he could find them more adorable. If asking about your day did that, then how would you react to him actually making moves?

“Good,” you reply, tone matching the care in his. You then glance around the store briefly, giving Steve the chance to admire the soft curve of your jawline. He pretends not to have been staring when your gaze falls back onto him. “You must be pretty bored today. This place is empty besides me.”

Was there a hint of something teasing in that last remark of yours, or is Steve imagining things?

Either way, it’s only now that he realizes you’re right – they haven’t really had any other customers. Not very typical for a Tuesday night, but he couldn’t care less, really. Not when you’re here.

“Don’t worry. You’re my favorite, anyway,” he says, heart thudding with an annoying intensity. He resists the urge to wink at you – god, he really is a loser, isn’t he? – and his hand moves to rake across his head, fingers nervously tangling in his brown hair.

You don’t answer, eyes wide with a hint of surprise. Your smile grows more bashful, something that makes Steve’s mouth grow dry, and you look down, a few strands of your own hair moving to cover your eyes. The sight of you – so shy and cute – standing right in front of him, only separated by a mere old countertop, sends his mind reeling. So close, but there’s an island between you – literally.

Seeming to overcome your brief embarrassment, you look back at Steve and smile again, this time a hint of your teeth showing behind the tiniest gap between your lips. Noticing all the small details, wondering what other little things he could find out and memorize about you, he almost feels like he’s drowning in emotion.

Get it together, dude! he thinks to himself, the voice in his head sounding suspiciously like Robin.

He’s snapped out of it by your hand meekly pushing the tape further up the counter, undoubtedly trying to get him to do his actual job instead of being ridiculously distracted by you.

Like he could help it, though; you were practically his dream. Hell, he hoped that he had dreams of you each night, that he could spend time with you even if he managed to screw it up in reality. Dreams were less intimidating, despite the fact that he had no control in them. Reality was where he held the cards, where he could choose what to say and do. Somehow, that thought’s empowering enough to bring him back down to earth.

Steve takes one look at the movie you’ve chosen, though, and laughs to himself as he reads the title. Instead of staying in his mind this time, he can’t help but speak his thoughts aloud.

“Christine, huh?” He can’t fight the amused little smirk that takes over his face even if he wants to. “That’s quite a shift from your usual, isn’t it?”

You just give him a simple shrug, unapologetic aside from the way you cheekily bite the inside of your lip. Now there’s definitely a hint of that same playfulness that he thought he saw earlier, and Steve could scream out in joy as he notices that gleam in your eye. Maybe he really didn’t lose all his charm.

“Thought I might switch it up a bit, you know?”

Steve nods and turns to the giant computer next to him, tape in one hand as his other slowly and loudly types away at the clunky keyboard. He finds Christine in the film catalog and quickly flips over the tape to type in the exact product number before his deep brown eyes glance back at you. It’s like you’re a golden statue shimmering in the sun, the only neon sign in a pitch-black forest. His gaze just naturally gravitates towards you, not that he’d ever complain about it.

“You didn’t strike me as the type for Stephen King,” Steve remarks, unable to keep his true thoughts to himself.

“Is that a bad thing?” You let out a soft giggle, head tilting in a way that reminds Steve of a parrot learning how to speak. Have you been waiting to learn more about him like he has about you? You did always seem to stop by Family Video when he was on shift, making sure to have small conversations with him about your movie choices while he added the rented tape to your account, making sure that you always were in his line to be checked out, even if there were lots of other customers…

“Oh no, not at all. It was just a little surprising,” he says, shaking his head and letting out his own small chuckle. He makes sure to look you in the eyes as he says, “I’m the kinda guy who likes surprises.”

He doesn’t mention that he doesn’t like the more world-ending, Upside-Down-related surprises that seem to haunt him and his unusual friend group. No, that’s more of a fourth or fifth date kind of thing to bring up.

Steve relishes the more prominent curl of your lips – oh god, don’t look at them, don’t think about how soft they would be, don’t do it! – and the way it makes you look a bit smug as you say, “Noted.”

He could think of millions of ways for that to come back into play, each one making his chest swell in an almost delightful way, but instead he continues adding Christine to your Family Video account. He finally gets to the webpage where he has to type in the customer’s name, and you must be familiar with the process because you open your mouth, the first syllable of your name escaping your lips, before Steve cuts you off. He says your name before you can, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of himself for the way your mouth parted in shock.

A little cockily, he says your name again as he types it. “I remembered.”

You’re only left gaping for a few moments, your expression then changing into a smile that’s even brighter than any from before, if that’s even possible. Looking at you out of the corner of his eye as the computer processes your name, Steve Harrington feels like he’s hit the jackpot.

A part of him can’t believe that you’d be so stunned at him remembering you. As if he didn’t spend far too much time thinking about you, as if he didn’t somehow end up telling everyone around him about you despite barely knowing you. As if everyone else who knew him didn’t know he was utterly infatuated and bewitched by you and your pretty little smile.

The computer finally processes the movie with a ding! and Steve reaches under the counter for a plastic bag. He takes some time packing the tape, a tiny thread of dread sewn into his heart because, while he’d certainly done a little bit of vague flirting, he still hadn’t made his real move yet, and he was running out of time. His fingers fumble with the handles of the bag as he racks his mind for anything that can help him – any line or gesture that might seal the deal.

It’s when he reaches out to pass you the plastic bag, and it’s when your knuckles brush against his that he gets a last-minute idea. With no time left to lose, he goes for it.

“Woah, you have really small hands!” he exclaims, and he’s not wrong, which is part of why it works. The other part, unbeknownst to him at the moment, is that you’ve got just as much of a silly crush on him as he has on you. “Here–” he raises one of his hands, palm facing you, “–put yours against mine and you’ll see what I mean.”

You search Steve’s eyes for a minute, a glimpse of a knowing smile on your lips, and he doesn’t even have to worry about you disagreeing or getting upset. He can just tell that you’re catching on, and that you may even be up to something when you lift your hand and press it to his.

Skin meets skin, and Steve feels dizzy. Nothing could have prepared him for how soft, how warm, it feels to have his palm against yours. It’s barely anything, an action that could be casual or friendly with anyone else, but it still makes his fingertips tingle.

He’s never felt like this with anyone else, never been quite this flustered at such a simple movement before. Not with any of the girls he knew or messed around with in high school, not with anyone else that he had few fleeting moments with working at Scoops Ahoy or Family Video. Not even with Nancy Wheeler.

He was always the cool one, always unbothered and rarely found himself blushing, never ever swooning. But here he was, feeling like he could fly over the moon because your palms were flush against each other, and despite everything, the anxiety and nerves were welcome. He likes the butterflies that gather in his stomach, that being around you puts him a little on edge, but in the best possible way.

If this is what it feels like to have a genuine, no-bullshit-attached crush on someone, he thinks that maybe he can get used to it.

He was right too; your hands are small. With the heels of your palms level with one another, your fingertips end where his finger pads begin. It’s cute, only making Steve’s heart race even faster – and if he really thinks about it, he can feel the vague vibration of your heartbeat in your thumb. He doesn’t even have to wonder if it’s pumping far too quickly like his own, he already knows it is.

His gaze moves from your hands together to your face, flickering to try and see what expression will be on that gorgeous face of yours. It’s a timid, happy smile and eyes that are staring right back at him, soft and doelike. The expression is so gentle, so special, that it makes his breath catch in his throat. He silently hopes that he’s the only one you’ve ever looked at like that.

“Told you,” he says quietly, to match the intimacy of the moment. “Small hands, but… they’re cute.”

Seemingly an instant after he says that, you shift your hand around and position your fingers between his. Before he can ask any questions or really even process it, you intertwine your fingers to hold his hand.

Luckily his body responds before his brain does, curling his own fingers and moving his thumb to rest on top of yours. Heat rises to his cheeks as he stares, and he can feel the dopey grin hopping onto his face before it’s fully there.

You giggle again, a bit louder this time, and for once his goofiness isn’t something he wants to internally chastise himself for. You actually think it’s cute, maybe even silly. He can be cute and silly for you, if that’s what you want.

Something in your eyes tells him that it is exactly what you want.

“You know,” you start, pursing your lips for a split second. “I’m used to watching all these fluffy, silly romance movies.”

You pause, eyebrows slightly risen as you wait for him to catch on to what you’re implying. He doesn’t, though; you can blame his heightened state of absence on the warmth of your skin. He’s far too caught up in that, in the fact that maybe he still does have game – thank god – to process anything you’re trying to hint towards.

The trance he’s in is visible – eyes spaced out on your face, his lips left parted so he can breathe out of his mouth slowly, and his hand gripping yours with more strength than before, like maybe you’re too good to be true and will disappear if he blinks. It’s all too much and you laugh – a real, genuine, hearty laugh that Steve immediately loves with every ounce of his heart. He’s certain that your laugh could cure anything that ails him.

“What I mean is,” you start again, taking a deep breath to recover from your short bout of joy. “I might get scared watching a horror movie.” Your eyes focus on his, giving him a little wink as you continue. “I might need someone there to keep me safe, Steve.”

The gears click in his brain, everything falling into place, and he becomes the embodiment of smugness with that signature smirk of his.

With a chuckle, he shakes his head and replies. “Well, what kind of guy would I be if I denied you that?”

The smirk fades down into a heartfelt smile, and his voice softens as his hand gives yours a brief squeeze. He can tease, but he also wants to make sure that he is being serious. “I’d love to.”

Half an hour later, after a little more conversation, you leave Family Video with a movie, a Family Video sticky note with Steve Harrington’s phone number on it in swoopy penmanship, and a promise to meet at his house tonight for a movie date.

Robin makes a reappearance from the back room, smirk on her face – Steve doesn't even have to ask her if she was watching the whole scene on the grainy security cameras, he knows her too well to already know that she was – as she marks a line and writes ‘You did it!’ under the You Rule portion of her notepad in congratulations. “Maybe you can be pretty lucky sometimes, Harrington.”

Steve can’t help but agree.

[vodika-vibes]

Heyyyyy Vodikaaaaa!

I saw those first kiss prompts, and because I'm such a sap, I thought I'd mosey on over here and send in a request.

Can I have “worth the wait” with Fives?

You can take it wherever you want to (just no smut, please), or you could choose to ignore it. I will be happy with anything or nothing 😌

Please and thank you 💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

Worth the Wait

Summary: You are eagerly waiting for your first date with Fives.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x Reader

Word Count: 1356

Warnings: None~

A/N: You know me, I love me some Fives fluff! Thank you for the request~

divider by saradika

You absently tap your marker on your kitchen counter as you scan the calendar that’s spread out in front of you. Each day is carefully crossed off with a red X as you count down the days until you can finally meet Fives face to face.

A smile crosses your face as you open your marker and cross off one more day. And then you move the marker to tap on the paper right next to the neatly printed words that marked today.

Resolute lands at 10 am,

And directly underneath it.

Date with Fives at Martha’s Tavern at 6 PM.

You feel a surge of excitement. You’ve been preparing for this date for weeks now. You have the perfect outfit, the perfect shoes, the perfect hairstyle-

You may have obsessed over this date. Just a little.

It’s fine. Probably.

You recap your marker and drop it in the cup on the counter, and then pick up the calendar and hang it back on the wall. You grab your comm, and open your reminders, absently scanning down the list for the day, making sure that all of the alarms are properly set, so you aren’t late.

You can’t be late. Not to this.

You and Fives have been friends for almost a year now. Though, admittedly, your friendship only started because you both regularly visit the same chat room. 

It started out with a couple of conversations about whatever topic was the topic of the day for the forum. He quickly proved himself to be smarter, and more clever, than many of the other people in the forum, and you found yourself sending him private messages about things that you read in the forum that sat wrong with you.

And in return, he did the same. Sending you messages at random times, linking to a comment or a forum, with a quip or a snarky comment.

And before you knew it, you were sending him your comm code, and he was sending you his, and you were getting messages throughout the day about random little things.

Honestly, you didn’t even know that he was a clone, or even his name, until five months after you started talking with each other.

He’d had a bad day. A really bad day. And you got a message at one am-

I know you’re probably asleep, but I could really use a friend right now-

And you, who had intentionally set the notifications from Fives to be loud enough to wake you, immediately commed him. If he needed a friend, then you would be that friend.

You spent all night talking…and you talked well into the morning. 

It changed something in your relationship, though you didn’t realize it until much later.

Fives took to comming you on a daily basis, usually early in the morning for you, or late at night, and while he always apologized for waking you, or preventing you from sleeping, you always made the same joke, “sleep it for the weak.”

Somehow, though, in spite of the fact that he regularly returns to Coruscant, your schedules never quite manage to sync up. Either you’re working or visiting family on the other side of the planet, or he’s working or deployed.

It is, in a word, infuriating.

Three months ago, Fives sent you a message before the Resolute entered hyperspace. Girlfriend?

It was, easily, the most unromantic way to be asked to be someone’s girlfriend, but-

Well.

How could you say no? It’s Fives.

You learned, real quick, that you have an innate inability to say no to Fives. Which would normally concern you, but he’s so kind and sweet, and all he really asks for are pictures and videos of you going about your daily life.

He admitted, only once, that the pictures and videos help him feel like he’s there with you, helping you go through your life.

If you’re going to be honest with yourself, and you always are, you can admit that you’ve fallen, and fallen hard, for Fives. And you haven’t even been on a single date with him.

Which is why, when he sent a message telling you when the Resolute will finally be docking, you immediately replied with an offer for a proper date at one of your favorite restaurants. 

And Fives…well, Fives teased you about being so eager, but was just as eager when he agreed.

You stare at the chrono on the wall, it’s almost time for you to head out the door, and you’ve been dressed and primped and ready for over an hour. You ended up getting ready early just to work out some of the excited/nervous energy.

Plus, time was moving so slowly, that you were beginning to fear that it was going to run backwards.

You tap your nails, impatiently, on the arm of your couch, your gaze locked on the chrono, and you heave out a sigh as the minute seems to last an hour.

It’s worse than being in school, honestly.

You heave out another deep sigh as the time finally changes, making in a minute later, and you jump to your feet. You’re done. You can go and wait out by the restaurant. It’s fine. It’s a pretty day.

And if you have to sit here and watch the chrono for another second you’re going to scream.

You’re going to be early. By, like, a lot. But that isn’t a bad thing. 

One fifteen minute taxi ride later, you find yourself outside the tavern. You settle yourself on a bench, and prepare yourself for the hour-long wait.

However, less than ten minutes later, someone sits next to you on the bench, “You’re really early, cyare.” You turn to look at the man who joined you, a smile crossing your face when you see Fives grinning at you.

“So are you,” You tease lightly.

“Yes, but if I had to spend one more minute listening to Echo tease me about this date, I was going to throw him off a rooftop.” Fives replies with a laugh, “Speaking of which…we’re being followed.” He drapes his arm over your shoulder and points to a small group of men on the opposite side of the street.

“Ah. Which brothers are they?” You ask, amusement coloring your voice.

“Echo, Jesse, Hardcase,” Fives points out each brother to you, “Oh, and Rex and Cody are just over there.”

“Aww, they love you!” You coo at him.

He laughs, “You really don’t mind?”

You wave at his brothers, and Hardcase and Jesse wave back, “I think it’s cute.”

“Oh, they’re going to love that.” Fives says with a grin.

You turn to look up at him, the nervous energy fading into something warm and comfortable now that you’re in his presence, “Anyway, our reservation isn’t for another hour-”

“Because you’re ridiculously early.”

You bump him with your elbow, “You’re here too!” You say defensively, and he just winks at you, “Anyway,” You continue with a small pout, “We can either just sit here and hang out, or you can introduce me to your brothers-”

“I have a better idea!” Fives interrupts.

“Okay, what is it?” You ask.

And then his lips are against yours. His lips are warm and soft and his hand moves to rest against the back of your neck, holding you against him. 

It was a much better kiss than you could have imagined…and you did imagine it. A lot.

He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, his eyes sparkling with mischief, and affection, “I’ve been wanting to do that for months, cyare.” He admits.

You press one of your hands against his chest, while allowing the fingers of your other hand to trail against his jaw, “And?” You ask, sounding slightly breathless, “How was it?”

He chuckles lowly, and tilts your head so his lips can hover just over yours, “Worth the wait, cyare.” And then his lips are against yours again, as if he can’t get enough of you.

And, as you lean into his touch, you find yourself completely agreeing with him, this is definitely worth the wait.

[cleolinda]

Weekend links, April 7, 2024

My posts

This week feels like it has been a hundred years long (not in a bad way). 

Somehow we joined together to balance the seesaw just right so Ava Gardner and Jean Seberg could both go through in the Hot Vintage Lady polls (percentages rounded). Like, I’m wearing the Ava jersey and even I encouraged people to vote Jean when necessary. Honestly, I just wanted to see if it could be done. And it COULD. 

Round three has begun. It is already horrific. This is the first round that’s really going to hurt because we spent the last one really getting down in the dirt and championing our ladies, or learning about actresses we’d never heard of before and getting attached to them. And now? We are reminded: memento mori. Everyone loses but one. 

(I personally pitched in for Sara Montiel. “BUT JUST LOOK AT--” Yeah, I did, thanks.)

Reblogs of interest

April Fool’s Day: You were here for the Boopening, yes? The whole thing was that you only got badges for giving boops, not receiving them, which is a great way to not reward popularity contests, but also means that every last one of us was out here trying to figure out who to bap with a cat’s paw 1000 times. I said, listen, my notifications are already trash garbage today. I’ll take the bullet. Boop at will.

The Activity graph isn’t too clear on this point, but it looks like I had something like 65,000--hits? engagements? boops?--that day. Listen, I got the black paw badge too. We all did what we had to do in the Boopening. 

A Shakespearean boop of goodly length: “And, Meowntague, come you this afternoon, to know our further pleasure in this case, to old Food-bowl, our common judgment-place.” 

I had to go lie down awhile after a pun like “The Purrge.”

--

I had just gotten up from that pun and then I had to go lie down again.

Account security gothic

The Canada griffin

Dinotopia nostalgia

Two pairs of spectacles, one made from slices of emerald, and the other from slices of diamond

An old favorite: Cerberus as a puppy, guarding the gates to heck

I feel like these two posts have the same energy: Time cops will not let you travel back to the Titanic and bloodthirsty gazebos are currently in a dormancy period.

The birds are still troubled

PSA: The best sunscreens for your face

Video

A collection of various American Indian/indigenous American languages, including Navajo, Tlingit, Lakota, Colville Okanagan Salish, Cherokee, Yucatec Maya, Greenlandic, Mohawk, Yup'ik, and Mi'kmawi'simk. 

A trans health-and-wellness fundraiser (Mercury Stardust, Point of Pride, and friends) kept getting banned off Tiktok due to assholes. Here’s how to donate; I saw a few “here’s how they helped me” notes, so it seems like these programs are both legit and effective. 

You think you’re going to sit staring at this video because Chocolate Guy is weaving chocolate. Then you get into it, and it just keeps going.

“Too Sweet” is doing hilariously well on the charts for a song that didn’t even make the album proper. Hozier’s bees would like to thank you for your support.

I know I said that Stevie Nicks would make you sing backup on your own haunting, but late in this 1997 live performance of “Silver Springs,” she makes Lindsey Buckingham, the man she wrote this song about, look her in the eye while she belts it at him. This specific performance was released as a single (I was there, Gandalf) and nominated for a Grammy. Watch the video and you will see why.

The Women Those ‘Evolution Of Beauty’ Videos Leave Out

I don’t really know how to describe this rubberhose-style cartoon of Cab Calloway as a singing nightmare clown. Betty Boop is also there. “You just described it!” No, I really didn’t. 

How movable type worked 1000 years ago, from scratch.

Unrestrained seasonal yak fun

A snowy raven photoshoot

The sacred texts

I don’t know how to explain this double Sacred Text about ominous dreams that comes with its own comic, except to say that they’re so iconic that I first saw both posts in lo-res Pinterest screencaps.

April Fool’s: The ultimate sacred text.

Personal tag of the week

Wet beast Wednesday, which had both a headshake stickflip and bears on a swan boat.

[lil-melody-moon]

Today is a full year of my obsession with Keith Moon. One year without a day of a break or any shifts of attention to anyone else. It's special to me, because it never happened before that I was this interested in someone, going so far as to get his biography and read it in English - I had no other choice, but I could still give up because it's not translated.

Being his fan brought much happiness to me. The music The Who made helped me carry on in the worst moments at university, it kept me alive, making me realise some things, but most importantly, I think it's beautiful how being Keith's fan fixed me.

I came back to reading and writing, something that was always my passion, I don't feel as lonely as I did two years ago somehow thinking about him got rid of it and I started to feel more like myself again - I'm still in the process of recovering my true self and I think I'm nearing the end of this difficult path, I started smiling more often, feel pure joy, just feel better in general thanks to him and the music he helped to create.

There's no way I could thank him for that, but I do like to believe that he sees everything from up above and he's still happy that he can make someone laugh and not feel sad anymore. I hope I will not lose myself anymore and that I can carry on with him by my side, because for now that's all I want. To always have some means to hear him drum and sing, see him on videos or just to see him in photos.

I adore him more than I thought I will anyone, so that's why, besides this big thank you, I also wanted to write a one-shot. It's a self-insert, self-indulgent piece that's heavily based on what I've read about him. Hopefully, the ones who'll read it will have fun reading it. The fic is under the cut:

It was a lazy, very lazy afternoon at the beach house at Victoria Point Road. Standing on the balcony, the sounds of the sea were the only things heard and that was depressing in a way. So much money went in this house, it was in the best spot somebody could live in. Californian beaches were the greatest as far as the girl could say, but that still didn't push away how lonely it could be there.

Used to the heartbeat of the city, always having somewhere to go, to drink and party usually, this calm was leaving scars on her mental state and her boyfriend's one. Calm days were at hand, she saw him lurking somewhere in the corner with a book, she decided to not disturb him. Not after what happened two days ago.

Keith was almost always drunk and high, exceptions being the days of break, such as these ones. Caroline left the house to go do some shopping, she told Keith where she was going, how much time it'll take her and when she'll definitely be back at home. She was always giving herself extra time if she was to take longer at shopping. Keith was all okay with it until she came back home, late for the first time in a while.

"Where the fuck have you been?!" Came the shout when she closed the door. Only then did she realise she was late and a fight was already at hand.

Keith was drunk, not a single word was getting to him and so the yelling began. It almost ended in a physical fight when Keith lost his temper and raised his hand in an attempt to hit Caroline. She paled at that, but she didn't cover. "Come on, hit me!" she yelled instead. "Your drunk mind isn't capable of doing anything else than that!"

His hand didn't slap her cheek, his dizzy mind reminding him of why he lost his wife in the first place and he forgot it, letting his hand fall down. The relief that Caroline felt didn't show on her face, her expression stayed unchanged, still angry at him for lashing out at her for being late. From the very beginning she knew what she was signing herself up to, she only didn't expect it to be this bad.

A quiet "sorry" was mumbled, the anger disappearing, replaced by an emotion of regret. "I did come back" Caroline pointed out, her tone still cold. "I've got late because of the queue in the shop. I was rushing back home, knowing I might be a minute or so late, not this much." Her voice was becoming softer. She peeked at the clock seeing that she was almost 40 minutes late. Not what she wanted to do.

Caroline could guess that this moment started the calm days again, where Keith took a break from boozing. She only wished for the days to last longer, but she also knew Keith would grew bored of that and start the loop again. A sigh left her lips, these few days were only for her to prepare for the worst to come again.

How many times did she ask him to go seek help? She didn't know.

How many times did she plead him to go to rehab and promise that she'll help him get better? She hadn't had a clue.

How many times she tried to give him hope that they'll find a good psychiatrist to help him with his inner troubles? She would run out of her fingers and toes to count.

Maybe it was the time in which they lived that nobody was out there to help him or maybe fate just wanted it that way. It only left her to wonder on this lonesome balcony, her green eyes watching the waves. A call of her name brought her out of this state. She turned to see Keith walking towards her, his red and black bathrobe covering him. He got chubbier with years, bloated if she could use any other, more correct term, he looked older than his age indicated, but he was still the guy she met after the concert and who suddenly started to keep in touch with her.

The smile she loved apparent on his face when she looked at him. A smile appeared on her face as well, it was impossible to not smile back at him. "Finished with the book?" she asked, starting the conversation. Keith joined her on the balcony, hooking their arms together.

"Not entirely" he said, adding right after. "Felt a bit lonely there."

Caroline placed her hand on his, their hands laying connected on the railing. "You could tell me, I would join you in reading."

Sometimes they read different books and showed each other fragments, commenting on them. Keith was fond of peeking his head above her arm to see what was written on her page, forgetting about what he was reading. His hand was slapping her one when she wanted to turn the page and he didn't finish reading.

"You have your own book." Caroline always said.

"Yours is more interesting." Was Keith's answer.

And sometimes they read the same one, Keith eager to read the dialogues aloud, Caroline taking care of the narration. Keith took care to make the book one hundred times funnier than normally, causing even the most sad part be somehow unnecessary dramatic.

"I wanted to join you here" Keith answered, placing his other hand on her arm, stroking it. "Look, I'm sorry for what happened the day before yesterday." Keith looked hurt at the memory of how he screamed at her, he was truly apologising, like he always did. "I won't do that ever again."

It wasn't the first time he said it. "I know." Caroline shifted closer to him. "I forgive you." She didn't say it for the first time as well. They both knew that it will repeat in a few days at a slight inconvenience, but both couldn't live without the other. Caroline was too forgiving and Keith was out of control, yet the love that connected them made it possible to live together.

"Thank you." It was almost inaudible what Keith said, but the silence at their house made it possible for Caroline to hear it. "I'm so fucking bored" he complained, looking down at the sand.

"We can search for something to do" Caroline suggested and upon seeing Keith's curious expression she suddenly smiled. Freeing her hand, she winked at him, asking him to wait here a bit. She went inside to search for what she bought at the shop the last time. It was impossible for her to not go to the bookstore. It was mainly the reason why she got late, but she had to lie to Keith to not spoil the surprise.

Keith waited for her, seeing her coming back, hands behind her back. "What do you have there?" He got immediately interested, leaving his spot and walking to her, wanting to grab the thing. Caroline took a few steps back, until she hit the wall, denying Keith any access to the thing she held in her hands now pressed to her back. Keith pouted at that.

"Something you'll love" she started mysteriously, seeing that childish glint in his brown eyes. "Wanna guess?"

"This will take me only one try!" Keith claimed surely. "But maybe one tiny hint, please?"

"Hmmm…" Caroline looked up, thinking about a hint. She felt Keith's hands sneaking behind her back, she squirmed, covering the thing, saying: "No cheating Keith!"

"Then hurry up!" He had no patience, which only made Caroline more amused.

"It's something that has a treasure hidden inside" she finally said, making the hint as general as she could to not give him an easy one.

"Something like a box that has a hidden thing inside?" Keith asked, not caring if it was against the rules.

"No." Caroline shook her head. "But it has a treasure nevertheless." She giggled, adding another hint. "A treasure you need a map for."

Keith's eyes shined when he heard that. "A map that was left by someone? A pirate, perhaps?"

The childish grin that appeared on his face when she nodded could make her forgive him for everything. Sober Keith was the one who was hidden beneath that mask he was putting on when he was in public. It was her childish, insecure boy who loved a certain story. "Is it a book that you got?"

"Yes!" Caroline exclaimed, taking out from behind her back a new release of Treasure Island. "Look what I've found at the bookstore!"

Keith grabbed the children's book, not believing his eyes. He had to flip through it and read the fragments to really believe what he was holding in his hand. Caroline knew it was his favourite. Keith knew it by heart, but it never hurt anyone to have a copy at home.

"I thought that maybe… We could read it together?" Her suggestion was finally out, Keith hearing her still too mesmerised by the book to answer. She neared closer, looking with him at the text and drawings. She wrapped her arms around his waist. "What do you say?"

There was a moment of silence before she heard Keith's voice change, knowing that they will be busy with the book and acting for the rest of the day. "You can count on Long John Silver, my lady!"

[copwef]

My adventure with Rise of the TMNT and it's community.

I remember very clearly where I was when I heard about rottmnt for the first time. I was over at my sister's house for a night. Everyone else was asleep and I was still trying to watch TV. When all of a sudden their was an ad for a new TMNT show.

At the time I was a fan of 2012 TMNT, but as a child I was too dumb to keep up with the show on a regular basis. Plus we still use cable so I had no way to binge all the episodes. To this day I haven't watched all the all the episodes of 2012 TMNT.

However when I got home at like 11:00 PM the next day. I saw the the first episode of Rottmnt was on. I watched it and while it seemed kinda childish and goofy at first, I slowly grew to like the show more and more. I watched every episode at least once and watched the season 2 finale when it came out. This was the first show I kept up with like this.

However, as I said, I was a dumb kid. I was oblivious to many things such as Donnie's autism, Mikey's ADHD, How the show had been cancelled unfairly, and many other messages of the show.

However a couple months ago, I got reminded of the show and searched it up. I watched a lot of old clips on YouTube until I saw that I had missed the rottmnt movie. I had no way to watch it or the show, so I resorted to watching the few reaction videos I could find at the time. Then I watched character analysis and saw how much of the show's messages I missed as a kid.

One night while I looking at a rottmnt comic dub compilation, I saw something that seemed cool. A comic series that showed what the future turtle's did before the events of the movie. I quickly made a Tumblr account and searched up this au.

I quickly discovered the creator of this au was @somerandomdudelmao and the comic series in question was called the cass apocalypse series. If you have somehow not read this series I HIGHLY recommend it. The characters act like they do in the show, the art is fantastic, and I consider it the closest thing there is to as "season 3" of Rottmnt at this time.

This discovery led me into the rottmnt fandom. I discovered many other very talented artists and writers. If I tried to list all of the talented people in this community I would be here literally all day. It inspired me too both write my 3 part own series called "Rottmnt Atoning" and my first attempt at drawing Leo.

So consider this a thank you message to everyone in the rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles community. Thank you for helping me rediscover this show after forgetting about it. I have a couple good ideas for Au's and I will try to post them when I can.

Now if only we could get an official rottmnt season 3.... Actually at this rate the community is so talented that if don't get an official season 3 we could just band together and make it ourselves.

[theleotorrio]

Hello ♥ 19, 20, 23, 26, 31, 44, and 45 for the songs ask (if I may be greedy too)

Hi there!! You absolutely may be greedy, take whatever you want! 💙

19. A song that you’ve seen performed live

Absolutely have to go with 'Vegas lights' by Panic! At the Disco. I saw that years ago and it stuck with me because I did not like that song when listening to the album but then hearing it live was somehow a live altering experience, I can't even explain it, loved it since then.

20. A song that you’ve listened to on repeat recently

'Unsweetened lemonade' by Amelié Farren. I listened to that one for three hours on loop yesterday, so definitely on repeat. But it's so pretty and the subtle lyrics change in the last chorus gets to me every time, I love it.

23. A song from the soundtrack of your favorite video game/movie/TV show

'You see big girl /T:T' from the second Attack on Titan Season. The title is stupid, but the music slaps so bad, like the changes in the music the different instruments, the singing, it all just fits perfectly, especially the part around 4:22 min.

26. A song that reminds you of your favorite fictional character

The song 'Daniel in the Den' always reminds me of Levi from aot and basically everything that happened to him snd continues to happen to him. I think it's a really powerful song for him.

31. A song that you want to cover (regardless of how much talent you have)

Also entirely too many. I am lucky and got to do many of my musical favourites while doing musicals in school, so technically I got to cover those. A song I really want to cover but struggle is 'Do Re Mi' by trousdale because it is a trio and it sounds weird doing it alone, so it's difficult. And I want to do 'Cleopatra' by the lumineers, because it's beautiful.

44. A song from your favourite musical

Will I absolutely use this to give an additional answer? Yes, yes I will. 'legally blonde' from well legally blonde. Just the heartbreak in that song, the chemistry between elle and emmet, it hurts so bad, it's stunning

45. Your favorite Disney song

Well the entire Treasure Planet soundtrack, but if we go for one song it would be 'The launch' from the treasure planet, it's the best theme.

Thank you, this was a lot of fun!!

[only-mildly-evil]

ok this was a while ago but i just saw a video on instagram that reminded me of it and the gall. the fucking nerve of that one twitter user to accuse specifically bisan owda of antisemitism when she has visiably gone out of her way to make sure on her accounts that nothing she says or does could be misinterpreted as antisemitism.

like there are definitely palestinians in gaza who are accidentally making statements that sound antisemitic because english isn't their first language and because the official israeli apartheid policy does in fact designate the soldiers and settlers attacking them as "jews" and yes i am aware that there are also probably gazans making statements that ARE antisemitic because there is antisemitism everywhere in the world and believe it or not that is probably going to include a region where many people's only exposure to us has been through an occupying state body that directly claims "we are jews and we are doing this for the jewish people and we represent all jews everywhere".

but bisan is someone who is visibly carefully choosing her words so as not to seem hateful towards jewish people even though she is currently experiencing a genocide and should really not be needing to take the extra time to carefully translate every phrase she speaks in a second language just so as to not come off wrong. she's reposted jewish currents articles and opinion pieces from the forward on her story. she's recommended the work of historians like ilan pappé. her videos before the current assault on gaza are all about her lifting up marginalized voices. and she slipped up ONCE and put two words in a language she doesn't speak day to day in the wrong order and said "thirsty for blood" instead of "bloodthirsty" and now some twitter user is accusing her of blood libel.

i mean i love knowing that my palestinian comrades are entirely accepting of jews but it breaks my heart seeing palestinian journalists and organizers always make sure to uplift jewish voices and putting extra work in to make sure nothing they say can be misinterpreted and yet zionists will still somehow always find a way to accuse them of being antisemitic. honestly the fact that antizionist movements will commit themselves so heavily to reiterating, with every breath that they denounce zionism, that they have no problem with jewish people and recognize our oppression and stand in solidarity with us, in spite of the fact that they must know at this point it will do nothing to shield them from accusations of antisemitism, is a testament to their inclusivity and their real commitment to the safety of the jewish people.

[away-ward]

Your response to ask and answered 289 about PD's choice of making Damon and Rika related

"I'm of the thought that Rika and Damon being related served two purposes for PD. One, PD loves walking the line of incest, and the idea of Rika and Damon with their tension (which is sexual), being related was too delicious to pass up. Two, PD loves Michael for being the first horsemen that spoke to them. Damon is their favorite, but Michael was the first and that's special. So while they love the idea of hinting Rika/Damon, they don't actually want people taking Rika away from Michael (also hence why anytime Rika engages with Kai on a physical level, Michael has to be there for it to be okay)."

reminds me of ContraPoints (Youtuber) who talked about twilight, and how stephanie meyer made jacob as renesmee's (bellaedward's daughter) mate because she still wanted to make jacob somehow related to bella, even though bella already got together with edward. So in a way, it's still a win for her, the readers and bella ofc. i don't think that your opinion of this could be so far off, because if it can happen to twilight, why cant it happen to devils night series right? Even the origin of this story and the inspiration behind nichael's name are already questionable, why not just add up the weird shit for the sake of it. That's probably how penelope douglas thinks.

Side note: and recently i saw a tiktok video of penelope douglas interacting with a fan, and omg she's so beautiful!!!!! The impression thati got from her is that she seem very centered, intense and focused. Idk, because i've seen tiktok videos of other authors and PD really did seem different than them, but not in an ovjective good or bad way, but i can definitely tell that this person wrote something crazy. Like when i compare her to kennedy ryan, lauren asher or even sierra simone in events, PD seems like she got an edge? Idk just a vibe? Idk but i kinda like it? Haha, i like it when an author matches the overallvibe of her books. And i like all these authors in different ways, their personality shined through.

btw that tiktok video is from user: devilsreads_

Hey!!

If I remember my twilight years correctly, didn’t SM want to jump from twilight straight to breaking dawn, without giving Jacob the chance to develop? And the editors were like, we need to give that more context? While I didn’t love the imprinting on Renesmee as a whole, I do see how for SM it was a win/win. I am curious if the Rika and Damon situation felt like a win/win to a problem, if it came to them in a stroke of inspiration, or if PD would say it was always planned.

I think PD is very pretty too! I wouldn’t know much to compare their interactions with other authors, but I looked up the tiktok you mentioned and I did like that they seemed to be paying close attention to the fan instead of trying to rush them along.

I think PD’s creativity is authentic to them, and that nothing they’ve written is something they’ve done just because it’s a trend. I also think they’re proud of everything they’ve produced, and while I’m not 100% happy with it, I would never resent them for standing behind their work. They have every right to.

When I’m crying out for them “admit they did wrong”, I’m partly joking. It’s not that personal. But also, on a deeper level, it’s that as a creator and artist, we’re constantly growing. The work I produced five years ago isn’t going to be the same as what I produce today. I should have improved on a technical level, yes, but it’s not just that. I’m a different person with new experiences, and those experiences should affect my creativity. If PD can honestly stand there and say they wouldn’t change a single thing about Nightfall or the series as a whole, that seems weird to me. But there are some people who say they would never want to change anything because it represented who they were then, and that’s fair.

So, then, I guess my question for PD would be “if you were to approach Devil’s Night as a new project today, do you think there would be major changes or only minor ones, or none at all? And if there were some major changes, without asking for too much detail, what would they be?”

Thanks for sharing the tiktok. I’d forgotten they were going to France for a meet and greet, and it’s nice they got some good interactions. Also very cool that it seems like the fan got their copy of nightfall signed.

Thanks for waiting on me! And for the message. It was interesting to read, and I never expected twilight to be brought up!

-KO

[zerocarina]

Some random thoughts about life and how things move I guess.

Had some old books in my room that I didn't really care about, they've been there for a while and I never really read them because I'm not a reader. Decided to sell them, because I like having money. Realized I probably wouldn't get much out of it anyways, so instead I placed them in one of those boxes where people can place books and borrow them. I wasn't planning on taking one at all, but I saw one about the place of photography in society through time, and somehow here I was taking a book home.

It was in pretty bad shape, I thought it probably was in there for a while. Turns out it was printed 50 years ago, in 1974. My mom was 3 years old. It's always weird to think of the age of things. This specific copy of the book was there when the Berlin wall was destroyed. It was probably sitting on someone's shelf. Maybe someone was in the middle of reading it when they saw it on the news. I'll never know.

Suddenly, something happened. A hair. There was a hair in my book. Wasn't mine. Probably belonged to whoever used to own this book. Or someone who borrowed it from them at some point. So what did I do when that happened? I put the hair away, not thinking about it. Until I thought about it. This is someone's hair. Someone I don't know, just like they don't know me. Or maybe we know each other by coincidence. But it's more likely that I now have a stranger's hair in my house. This person has no idea one of their hair is currently in a stranger's house. When this hair was on their head, they never could've known it was going to end up here.

It reminds me of when I dispose of things in the trash. Let's say I buy a croissant, on the paper bag the bakery's name is written. It's specifically one from my city. Let's say I take the train and go to the other side of the country (France). During the ride I ate my croissant. When I leave the train, I put the paper bag in one of the many bins that I can find outside. And now, there's a paper bag in that bin, that comes from a bakery on the other side of the country. When I was given that paper bag with my croissant, the person who gave it to me never could've known it was going to end up here. It's fascinating I think. Probably. I don't know.

Maybe if I looked inside bins around the train station, I'd find things from different cities far away, maybe even other countries.

That hair in the book also reminded me of another book I got at some point. It was a Zelda Ocarina of Time manga. I knew it was second-hand when I got it as a teenager, but I wasn't expecting what I found inside. There was a note. An actual proof of someone else having held this book in their hands before me. It said something like "here's your sweatpants back, also read this manga you'll like it". Who wrote this? Who did they write it to? Of the both of them, who sold it so that I could eventually buy it? I'll never know. No one ever will. Unless something crazy happens, which is always possible. At some point this manga was lended to a friend with sweatpants, and now it's on my shelf.

So of course at some point I think of the opposite. Things that I used to own and are now someone else's property. I absolutely sold some stuff in the past. The books I put in the box are probably still in there, but they won't be forever. That same day I sold a CD in a thrift store. I knew I wouldn't get much out of it (0,05€ if you're curious) but I just wanted to get rid of it. I originally bought this CD to support the band because I used to know one of the guys. I hate him now so I can't stand having his band's name on my shelf. Maybe someone will buy it one day, and wonder what was the reason for me to sell it. Some video games I've sold in the past have probably been bought by now. They're in someone's house. Someone I don't know.

Some years ago, my mom gives me a ring. She tells me something like "your father gave it to me when we were together, I think you'd like it". Indeed, I liked it. It felt weird having a ring older than me on my finger, but I liked it so much I was wearing it everyday. Tragedy struck however, because of my very sweaty fingers. Some conditions have surprising side effects, and it's one of them. It damaged the ring very badly to the point where it broke in half. It had a weird shape ok. And right there, a ring that was in perfect condition for years, was broken so suddenly. Such is life, even for lifeless things.

That's enough rambling for tonight. Not sure if I accurately portrayed how interesting and fascinating all of this is. In any case, I've been thinking all this for a while and never really had the opportunity to put it into words. So here it is I guess.

Byeeee.