#technically the monologue happened late at night?

[chirpsythismorning]

For the last 24 hrs I’ve been trying to find the real motel from that production assistant’s s4 bts pic…

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Hello! I just saw your Matriarch post! Can you possibly do a prologue about her backstory and her going to the other dimension with a batfamily and batmom that are still alive and together? And possibly a part 1 where she just walks into the Batcave one night after she sends out an all-call to the bats and the league and once they all start questioning what is going on she comes out and tells them about her backstory and how she'll prevent her future from happening by offing the rogues one by one and saying something like "I'm the only one who could ever succeed in doing this. And do you know why... it's because I know exactly how each and every hero and villain alike think. I know every plan and protocol in place that both sides of the gallery (i.e. meaning the heroic side and villainous side) have in place, how to stop or outsmart them, and every single possible move any of you could make against me. If you think you can stop your wife, mother, friend, or whatever else I am to you, then by all means... I invite you all to play my game, if you can capture me AND discover my plan, then I'll stop for good and go back to my time. But should I be victorious, well, the world and all of you are MINE."

Sorry for it being so long! And for the long monologue!

[Damn, that is good!!]

[Matriarch Au]

Notes.

In this au (Y/N) pretends to be a hero for the public sake. A part-timer of the league in the future.

Bruce doesn't know (but has suspicion) she is killing or torturing almost half of his rouge gallery.

She's afraid that Bruce won't love her become of his no-killing code.

There's technically a "(Y/N)" in this timeline who meets Bruce and falls in love. But, The Matriarch technically killed her before she could meet Bruce.

But here's another question. How does this (Y/N) interact with the Batfamily?

Since (Y/N) knows of each horrible thing that has happened to her children and lover. Batmom is very protective then most other Batmoms.

She still wants to give her children freedom, but also knows that when she did... They were beaten or almost killed for the sake of protecting others.

Batmom decided to mess with this world's timeline so it would be better than her own. But still deliberately decided to let some things stay the same.

1st Example, Dick Grayson. Now depending if Batmom came around before Dicks parents demise is up to you. But in this instance where she did, Batmom would try to save his parents but it doesn't work out.

2nd would be Jason, this is where it gets kinda fucked up.

Batmom is a very caring individual but Matriarch isn't.

Batmom would do whatever she can to make sure Jason will never know of his mother being alive. Batmom will even go out of her way to guilt-trip Jason and emotionally manipulate him. To the point where he doesn't care if his real mother is alive or dead.

But, if Jason does end up curious and decides to find his mother. Aw hell he ain't gonna be free from Batmoms protection. Including Matriarch.

Batmom will get Bruce on her side to not let Jason out of the house or better yet city to look for his mother. It will take a lot of convincing and emotional manipulation part two. Anything regarding Jason's mother or possibly anyone close to bearing resemblance is wiped from the Bat-computer database.

If Jason managed to find a way to convince Batmom or escape Gotham. You are three steps ahead as Batmom or Matriarch.

The only way Jason could even wind up dead is if Batmom was a second too late.

From that point on if that happens, it'll be a much worse for the latter members and friends of the Batfam.

(Y/N) has and will install trackers on everything and anyone. Your always listening, always alert.

You'll put on the facade sure, but the truth of it all is that.. You're no longer just "scared". No you're terrified, to the point you have the smallest threat or villain is your biggest enemy.

-

[I'll write more for Batmom/Yandere/Villain reader! I swear! If you guys want more let me know, I still gotta describe how Matriarch Au deals with villains.]

[Maybe even write a angst dead dove do not eat fic later hopefully. Thank you for reading!]

[barananduen-blog]

Top Nine TV Shows tag game

Was invited to do this by @lovesickfolly I'm going to do it with cdramas, bc that's what I'm into lately, but if anyone wants to do this, you can do it with any kind of show.

My top nine cdramas, in no particular order...

Before I begin, I should probably point out that I'm more "plot" over "ship." I like ships, but usually as a means to showing character depth; they're not the thing I tend to focus on the most.

What these nine have in common is:

good plot and writing - not just the plot, but the storytelling

3D characters who are also likeable

hooked my attention - my mind didn't wander while watching, AND I wanted to watch more than one episode in a row

memorable

I'm going to include another indicator, too. If it "got" me good enough to make me make fanart: 🎨lol I mean, I'm SLOW. If I was willing to dedicate days/weeks to make a drawing out of it, that's SOMETHING. lmao

1 - Word of Honor🎨

Martial arts adventures (+ a steampunk sect), BL.

This was the first cdrama I watched, and I loved it and it still has a special place in my heart. I rewatched along later with @ginsoakedgirl80 and it was as enjoyable to watch the 2nd time as it was the 1st.

Awesome story and characters, beautiful scenery. And it gave me my first two favorite drama actors.😆*cough* My fav characters were, in order: Ye Baiyi and the Scorpion King. My fav actors, the same two, but reversed; I like comedians, OK? XD

Just a word of advice to anyone planning to try this: I don't know why the opening scenes character-dump on you; most of those people aren't even that important. Just learn Prince Jin and Zhou Zishu (a few others will show up later, but you can learn them then), and then start learning names only once Zhou Zishu becomes a homeless drunk man.

2 - The Taoism Grandmaster (technically, I have a drawing WIP, but it'll probably stay a WIP)

If the Triwizard Tournament from Harry Potter and a Final Fantasy video game had a child in ancient China, you'd get this, complete with items shop before boss battles (the store ox is so cute!).

No but look, this is like my gremlin child. I'm not a fast watcher, but this is the only one which I binged so many episodes in a row, that it made me lose track of time, and before I knew it, it was past 2am on a weeknight and I had work the next day. I may have made it to 4am one of those nights; I don't remember. After it happened twice, I had to set an alarm. Have also watched twice+

Yes, the CG is bad, the costumes were cheap sometimes, and the plants did not pretend to not be plastic, but I love the story. It's well written and has so many details and ways things tie together. And THE CHARACTERS! They're all lovable dorks AND I LOVE THEM!

3 - The Legendary Life of Queen Lau🎨

Romcom.

AAAAAAAAA!! I love comedy and this was GREAT in that sense! Really had me laughing out loud every episode! This is one to watch more for the funny and ingenious situations than for plot, but it was SO enjoyable, I'd even watch them do slice of life. So cute, so fun, love it love it love it!!🥰 Another one that I rewatch whenever I need something uplifting and cute. Also, one of my two favorite OSTs. So uplifting and danceable!

Alright, those are my top 3. The ones I'm sentimental for. The stuff I squee over. But I have 16 starred on my list as excellent / recommendable, so let's have six more.

4 - Song of Youth

Case-solving; mini-cases and the one overarching one.

I loved the format of one case per couple of episodes, so it was broken up into smaller chunks. Super interesting and creative - each case was solved in an unconventional way, which was fun and engaging. All the actresses did a fantastic job. The jewelry, props, lighting, etc. were absolutely beautiful.

5 - The Blood of Youth🎨

Martial arts adventures with a group of friends.

Story: 💯Characters: 💯 Fights: 💯 Visuals: 💯OST: 💯

Xiao Se as the tired babysitter I love him! Wuxin! OMG Wuxin as the sassy fake monk who monologues before every fight and people just let him. I love him! (Wuxin spinoff, please! and I love his theme song!) The whole cast is gorgeous and acted wonderfully, so no sacrificing talent for looks; these people had both in spades. The supporting cast, too. OMG Baily Dongjun and the thunder guy!😍 It had funny moments. Mr. Sikong! The fights were SO creative... how many ways can you design a martial arts fight?? Way more than I thought! No two were similar; it was amazing, the creativity.

As an artist, I really enjoyed the cinematography... the scenery, lighting!! composition, all absolutely gorgeous. Those shots of Xiao Se with soft backlighting? Chef's kiss. And, as a photographer, I know they're not as easy to achieve as it looks. Alright, this one got 2 paragraphs already; need to move on, but watch if you haven't. It's on YouTube.

6 - Till the End of the Moon

Doomed love fantasy; watch them struggle against themselves and their destiny.

THIS IS SO GOOD!! The story is great, excellent plot and pacing. Characters are 3D and always surprising. Gorgeous costumes (Tantai Jin's especially! And the clam clan makeup!), sets, and special effects. THE SOUNDTRACK IS EMBEDDED IN MY BRAIN IT'S SO GOOD (🎶favs: "Use my Body as a Shield" or whatever it's called, I keep seeing different translated titles for it; "Reborn" instrumental; and "Holding on to a Thought" instrumental).

7 - The Blue Whisper

Fantasy romance and adventure. Merman. Animal-spirit people. Angst, treason, and undying hope.

Gosh this drama is so beautiful. This, Till the End of the Moon, and Blood of Youth are up there as the top 3 visuals in dramas I've completed (there are others that have stunned me visually, but haven't been able to watch in full). Excellent story, too. It's a tearjerker, but it's SO GOOD!

8 - My Uncanny Destiny

Romcom. "Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

Lots of fun. Very enjoyable and bingeable.

9 - Guardian, the one with Bai Yu and Zhu Yi Long

Modern urban superpowers type of thing, which is a genre I like, and the story is so good! By Priest, the same author for the Word of Honor novel. Never a dull moment. Tearjerker warning, but so good. Excellent theme song, too, btw. (I don't have any screencaps that aren't a spoiler, so that's what this is XD)

I ran out of slots, but I'll list the other seven in my Excellent and Recommendable list. Order is just as I watched them:

The Untamed

Legend of Fei

A Female Student Arrives at the Imperial College

Be Reborn (modern, heist/police)

The Romance of Tiger and Rose

A Familiar Stranger (mini-drama; watch the movie version)

Reset (modern, action, investigation)

PS: I've been here one month, and have done two tag games and they both had the number "9" in them; is this a tumblr thing?

[heliads]

Tasm!Peter with male reader who’s basically Jean grey telepathy and telekinesis ALL THAT GOOD STUFF, and they patrol together but since reader is a telepath he picks up on peter crushing on him the whole night and waits for him to ask but he doesn’t which leaves reader confused

all that good stuff? not just some?

masterlist

You are waiting for an event that hasn’t happened yet. Technically, you shouldn’t know about it at all. You have never been one to stumble for long in the unknowable dark, though; not for lack of trying, not for any particular hatred of ignorance, but for something utterly out of your control.

You first read someone’s mind when you were about ten or eleven years old. You were young enough that it didn’t seem strange, just another part of growing up. It was silent, and then you heard someone speaking, the words floating to you as if over radio lines. It would have been perfectly normal were it not for the fact that no one had ever opened their mouths to breathe a single syllable.

You caught on to the fact that this was unusual soon enough. You kept it to yourself, having read enough comic books and seen enough movies to know that such secrets were best hidden from any and all grown-ups in sight. You still can’t decide if that was a good decision or not, but it feels too late to suddenly confess to your parents that you have been able to tell everything they’re thinking for years now.

Besides, it’s not just telepathy anymore. A few years after that first mind reading incident, you started to notice more anomalies. You can levitate objects with your mind, crumple soda cans from across the room, and flick off your lightswitch with a single thought. At first, it was confusing, trying to keep straight everything you did with your hands versus the background tasks you could conduct with your mind, but practice enough times and you can do anything.

Control came frustratingly slowly, but at least it came. You’ve learned how to put on the blinders regarding telepathic communication, what it feels like to carefully block out everything but the words rattling around your own head. You’re never quite certain that the inner monologue wending its way around your senses is one hundred percent your own, but it’s the closest you’ve ever come, so that must count for something.

The same thing goes for telekinesis. Sometimes, when you get angry or hurt or experience some other tidal wave of emotions that makes it difficult to keep such a tight lock on your mind, your control slips and the objects around you start to go a little haywire. The radio in your car starts to switch rapidly between stations whenever your knuckles go tight on the steering wheel. The lights flicker when someone says something a little too cruel.

Still, no one’s figured you out yet, so you mark that down as a win. You think that might be because you found a rather unusual extracurricular. It won’t be going on your college applications anytime soon, that’s for sure, but it does let you have an outlet for all the otherwise pent-up mental activities that aren’t suitable for normal eyes.

Your city tends to frown upon vigilantes, especially the police and newspapers, but you’ll be damned if they don’t need you like crazy. It feels like there’s a robbery happening on every street corner, a mugging in every alleyway. You’ve certainly stopped enough to make it seem that way, at least. The first time you put on a mask and decided to put a stop to all the wrongdoings to cross your path, you thought you’d never rest. Every time you dropped your fists, someone else showed up to try and ruin the city all over again.

You’ve learned how to rest since that first day, though, and that also comes with practice. You know when enough is enough, how to drag your beaten body back to bed for a good night’s sleep before school the next morning. Part of that is a need to maintain some kind of work-life balance, but another reason is your favorite of all, and that would be your partner in anti-crime.

You had never intended to work as a pair of heroes instead of just by yourself, but Spider-Man surprised you. You can still picture the first time you saw him, how he came swinging down out of the dark nowhere of night to save you along with the most recent smash-and-grab victim. You’d chewed him out for ruining your perfectly good heroism, of course, but both of you knew you’d been outnumbered anyway.

The harsh front hadn’t lasted for long, of course. Spider-Man has a way of breaking down your barriers, of making you laugh even when you’re sure you’ll never smile again. It’s just what he does best. That, and leaping off of tall buildings to save lives with all the agility of the very arachnids he claims as a namesake.

Spider-Man’s not his real name, of course. That he told you free of charge. No, Peter Parker is and will always be Peter to you, forever more than a mask. You hadn’t wanted to read his mind to gain that particular secret, but Peter had shared his real identity soon enough.

He’s also the only one who knows about your abilities. That night had truly been something else. Peter had stood opposite you on a roof, the wind blowing so hard it almost stole away his words before they even reached you, and told you exactly who he was. No secrets, no alibis, just his truth, bloody and bare and yours without a second thought. He took off his mask, and your first thought upon seeing his face was that it made perfect sense. Of course a boy that sweet would have a countenance that kind to match.

You followed suit, and then it was Peter and Y/N until forever. Two boys up there in the starry sky, exchanging phone numbers and stories of your real lives until you lost your voices. You were in class the next day and saw him at the water fountain, trying to swallow down enough liquid to heal his throat again. As if the evidence of your secrets could be washed away with something as simple as lukewarm water. As if anything could stop the two of you from being connected with something better than the blood you’ve spilled for each other.

That day was one of the best of your life, but also one of the worst. Once you saw Peter’s face, you can’t seem to stop looking. He has a way of hovering there in your periphery, reminding you of all that you have that no one else will ever know. If you could sink every moment of your life into those patrol nights, when the moon is high in the sky and the sun is gone from sight, when the city belongs only to the two of you, you would without a second thought. You need him to fight, to breathe, to die.

The most confusing part is that you know for a fact that Peter feels the exact same way about you. You hadn’t meant to read his mind, really you hadn’t, but it was almost impossible to avoid. Peter has been all but screaming his thoughts ever since the moment you met. No amount of mental blinders can stop the fact that he is broadcasting his truth your way every second of every day.

You can hear this internal monologue of his with particular strength now. The two of you are sitting listlessly on the edge of a rooftop, waiting with no great patience for the next crime to occur. The two of you really do make terrible vigilantes if you’re hoping for a good robbery or murder attempt, but peace is rather boring if you’re trying to maintain it.

Your fingers tense at your sides as you try to focus on you and only you, but Peter’s mind is stuck on an endless, deafening loop of how much he really, really likes you. Every few seconds, his train of thought keeps circling back to one main point, which is that tonight is going to be the night that he’s going to finally ask you out. Tonight. It has to be tonight.

You already know what you’re going to say. Yes, of course, a thousand times yes. You haven’t had a single romantic thought about anybody since you met him, not even a pointless crush on someone cute in your physics lab. Peter is the one for you, not anybody else. You have pages of proof that he returns your affections, so all you have to do is wait for him to just get it over with and ask you out.

Waiting has never been a great strength of yours, though. This should come as no surprise; you’ve almost exposed your powers in front of your friends and family about a thousand times over because you’ve used your telekinesis to summon something to your side rather than waste the seconds in walking over to get it. Efficiency is your best friend, and the minutes seem to stretch into eternities as you wait and wait and wait for Peter to finally get himself together.

Seeing as Peter mentally decided that he was going to ask you out about a thousand times tonight, you assumed that would mean he would actually do it. However, when your patrols finally come to an end and he still hasn’t asked you, it occurs to you that all that talk was just that, useless murmurings.

You tried to seem like nothing was the matter, but maybe Peter’s just as good at guessing your emotions from your face as you are by reading his mind, because he holds out an arm to stop you as you move to leave.

“Wait,” he says, grabbing his mask from beside him and sticking it in his pocket, “what’s wrong? You’ve been fidgety all night.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you claim, but Peter just rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, right. Come on, spit it out. What’s got you so frustrated?” He asks again.

You sigh, then look away. “Why haven’t you asked?”

Peter pauses a moment, then speaks carefully. “Why haven’t I asked what?”

You glance at him cautiously, then give in. “Why haven’t you asked me out? You’ve been saying you’ll do it all night, but nothing. Did I do something wrong to change your mind?”

Peter is dead silent, then: “You were reading my mind again? Y/N, boundaries–”

He’s halfway to a laugh, though, which is what lets you give in and shove him jokingly on the shoulder. “I didn’t want to, you dork, but you were practically yelling it the whole time. I literally couldn’t avoid it if I tried. And I tried. Several times. For days. Honestly, I think this is your fault.”

Peter sputters. “My fault? How is this my fault?”

You grin. “You couldn’t just ask me on a date. Come on, Parker. Six words. You can do it.”

He groans. “You’re really not making this any easier, you know that? Hey, since you already know what I’m going to ask, how about we cut to the chase and you answer me?”

You shake your head. “I’m not letting you off the hook this quickly. Ask.”

Peter gives you a sour look, but the corners of his lips are already starting to prick up into a familiar smile again. “Fine, fine. Y/N, will you go out with me?”

You spread your hands. “See? Easy as that.”

This time, Peter’s the one to swat you. “Answer. If you’ve made me struggle all this time, I deserve an answer, and quickly.”

You laugh and do as told. “Yes, Peter, I would love to go out with you.”

“See,” Peter smiles, repeating your own words from earlier, “easy as that.”

Both of you are grinning too hard for the teasing to matter much. At the end of the day, you have each other, and that counts for far more than anything you’d dare hope before. It’s official now, too. Nothing could be better.

marvel tag list: @namoreno, @thatfangirl42, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @amortensie, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver

[canyouhearthelight]

Nihilus Rex, Ch. 12: Aftermath

Here we have what should be the last really technical chapter for...hopefully the rest of the book. Fingers crossed. Although I am sure we can sneak some more stuff here and there if someone asks for more technical stuff, just not so many unending chapters of it.

As always, on the even-numbered chapters, I wrote while @baelpenrose co-wrote and beta'd.

Some legends are told

Some turn to dust or to gold

But you will remember me

Remember me for centuries

And just one mistake

Is all it will take

We'll go down in history

Remember me for centuries

Fall Out Boy, “Centuries”

Lash

“I heard it was part of a bigger hack.”

“Everything I’ve seen about that goes back to some QAnon boards. They think everything is a conspiracy.”

My heart rate picked up just a bit as I looked over dozens of similar conversations across several message boards.  It was entirely too close to home, but felt completely surreal at the same time - I had been part of a coordinated attack against major financial institutions, and no one even believed the scale of what had actually happened.  Not even the people directly impacted, if everything from our botnets was accurate.

In the immediate aftermath, over truly horrendous spinach pie and far too many dolmades, Nils and I had kicked around what-ifs and half-assed contingencies.  It had all boiled down  to keeping an eye on our feeds, waiting for updates from Bishop if he caught anything, and laying low until the attack had aged out of the news cycle.  If online communities started piecing anything together, the plan was to sow misinformation and redirect.

We had definitely called it on the news portion - pundits were still arguing over whether the slain men were heroes of the middle class out to free people from the bonds of financial indenture, or anti-capitalist villains trying to destabilize the global economy.  Every late night show had a self-referential monologue about the deceased, followed by a person-on-the-street segment with split opinions like some ghoulish, real world version of the Boondock Saints.  No one could agree if their goal had been just the one attack, or if there was a secret manifesto somewhere with their ultimate strategy.  What everyone did agree on, however, from the Department of the Treasury, to the OCC, to all major news networks, was that the people responsible had been gunned down by police.  Body camera footage had been released, sometimes uncensored, with all six men declaring loudly that no one else was involved, nobody had put them up to this, nothing had inspired them. 

No One. Nobody. Nothing.  Anyone who had interacted with Nils online and had two brain cells left to rub together would have known immediately.

Except… Our damage control had done its work for us.  Every single time I had been alerted that someone was suggesting a larger plan, the same response had come: That’s QAnon nonsense. A conspiracy. I bet you think the moon landing was fake, too.

Nils had joked about his handle then. “Would you buy that my handle is also an Odyssey reference to be a contingency for exactly this?” He’d said, half joking.

I squinted, half smiling at the memory. “I bet your minion morons believe that.  I do not.  Especially not having seen how far back your handle goes, in some form or another.” She waggled a bite of food at him. “Nice try, though. The bravado almost sold it.”

“Fair enough. Speaking of handles, Lash. Can I get your real name?” He’d said, as they’d shared dinner after the fact. “I haven’t tracked it down as a matter of respect, but we’ve been friends for a while and I would like to know. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” 

“You aren’t allowed to use it,” I had made him promise. Something about sharing my first name had always felt too… exposed. “Not in person, not via text, not at all.”

He’d given that weird smile that seemed almost like his signature, the one that seemed like he was laughing at something somewhere else, and said, “I promise. I’ll only call you Lash.”

“Then I will tell you when all this dies down and you can’t rat me out to the authorities.” He hadn’t been expecting that, and I winked at his shock. “Shouldn’t be too hard. Not like you would rat me out anyway.” Truth be told, I liked having him at something of a disadvantage.

He inclined his head at a little bow, “As you wish, Lash.” He raised a glass. “This was really fun though. Good working with you.” 

Now, I was staring feeds on three monitors, a week out, watching the entire financial sector and public refuse to believe anything more serious had happened than six armed men breaking into a major bank Guy Ritchie-style.  All three of us had expected some form of damage control, but there was nothing to control.

Almost like I had cursed myself, my phone started buzzing violently across my desk, sending me to my feet hard enough to almost knock my chair over.  “Spam Spam” showed up on my caller ID - Bishop.

“Please take me off whatever list this is,” I answered carefully. Bishop did not call me. He messaged me through about a million proxies, but calling was a no-no.  Paranoid did not begin to describe the man’s communication habits.

“Just a moment of your time, Miss,” the voice came through. “I am calling on behalf of Bloomberg to offer you a one year subscription for only $1 per week. That’s all your basic financial and stock news, for $52 a year.”

“That’s nice, but I’m broke,” I sighed, taking note of the site before hanging up.

My stomach sank when the phone buzzed again, this time a message from Nils. “Uh. Quick meetup somewhere secure. We may have overshot slightly. In a good way.” 

Definitely not good. “Let’s meet at the usual spot. We need to talk about the project for class, anyway.” I sent the message and didn’t even check for confirmation before gathering my stuff with one hand while I checked my news skimmer with the other.

Well, fuck.

Nils was waiting at the shitty hacker cafe, and he looked tense, eyes sharp. He barely waited for me to sit down. “So. There’s a thing. Remember when we were making the worm? And we had to shave some stuff off to make it small enough to still function? And we had to simplify some of its seeking parameters? Uh…it…I just realized that everything in Blackbox…”

“Shut the fuck up,” I hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention. “You and B reached out within about five minutes of each other, and he managed to tell me to check the news. I saw. We overshot by a couple orders of magnitude, yeah.”

“Yeah. Explains why no damage control. Until someone leaked it, I don’t know that they were legally allowed to admit it could be hacked.” 

“We need coffee,” I stammered out, running a hand over my head. “And B. But coffee first.” Without waiting, I bounced up and ordered for us both. When I came back to the table, he was bouncing a knee - not out of place in a place that specialized in caffeine addiction for the ADHD set, thankfully. “I don’t suppose you carry a flask or something? Could only make it taste better.”

“My flask is for energy drinks when I need caffeine in emergencies because my head is starting to hurt from withdrawals, so, no. It absolutely would not. I appreciate the suggestion though.” Nils’ voice was flat. “I’ll reach out to B and tell him to get over here. We have a bit of a security concern to address. A slimy, perverted security concern to address.” 

“He doesn’t know my actual name or my face,” I told him pointedly. “I’ll drive the bus if you’ll do the throwing, it comes to that.”

“He knows your handle, he’s better than we are at breaking encryptions and worse about boundaries, he absolutely knows your name.”

“I don’t think anyone is going to trust any records scavenged from a defunct elementary school or a birth certificate. Those are the only places my actual name is listed. I don’t even drive.” I thought about it for a minute. “But backing up his stuff remotely to make sure we have any sex trafficking or worse would be a good idea.”

“Honestly I was thinking simpler. We have a crime that he was accomplice to, he can’t blackmail us without incriminating himself without claiming he didn’t know what it would be used for. He might get immunity for the tip, but that takes time. He’s attempted to solicit you for indecent shit a lot, and attempted to get me to engineer…basically letting him do sex crimes, a few times. I kept the messages after turning him down, you? If nothing else it kills his credibility as a witness and ruins any ability he has to get us convicted of anything.” 

I gave him a dirty look. “What kind of amateur do you think I am? I have all my dirt on everyone backed up where no one can find it except me or my parents. External drives, somewhere safer than that server we just fucked up.”

“Of course, my apologies.” He looked a little calmer with the idea that Weasel was handled. “They’ll try to trace us but our databombs will have made such a brutal hash of anything they could trace that they won’t know where to start looking. At a guess they’ll move to a different system against future hackers - and I don’t envy the next suckers to try this.” 

I tapped my chin, trying to think what Bishop would point out. Something simple we would be missing. I wasn’t good a peopling, but Bishop was surprisingly adept - “They have six dead bodies, a drive designed to fuck shit up, and six cell phones that had been in contact with you.  So, first link is you. Let’s start there.”

“Burn phone, pre-paid, cash, with an out of state number, picked up ages ago for something else entirely, under an alias I no longer use, again invented for something else entirely, and called through wifi service using a vpn. Said burn phone has now been utterly destroyed with its remains scrubbed of fingerprints and the remains tossed into a dumpster, whilst I was not carrying my normal phone, on the opposite side of town from where we normally spend any time. I think that about covers it.” 

“I don’t ever want to hear anyone say women watch too much true crime,” I muttered. “You literally could have just taken it apart and used a belt sander on it, handed the pieces to a makerspace. Or donated it to a Goodwill bin.”

“I’ll remember that for next time.”

Bishop showed just after that, making a point to ignore us while getting his coffee and sitting at a table two over from us, facing away.

“I knew getting involved with both of you at once would get exciting. So. We want to talk about what you little maniacs have been discussing before I got here so I can go over what you missed?” B’s voice was vaguely amused, and a little tense. “I should mention, I’ve already gotten a message from Weasel. He put it together. Hopefully you two have a contingency for that.” 

“Oh, the usual,” I answered airily, arching a brow at Nils. “Blackmail and making sure there aren’t any other tracks to cover. Nils overdid it with his phone, but it should work.”

Harvey’s voice took on an amused note. “Alright then. I’ll tell Weasel to pound sand. Am I to take it you kids had fun the night of the job?”

“Food was hit or miss, and there was some half-delirious contingency planning around damage control.” I rubbed my face. That felt like a decade ago.

Nils was looking embarrassed and Harvey looked amused as the older man continued. “Pity. You two were getting really wound up and I was hoping you’d be able to take a load off that night. From the looks of things, Nils’ usual bullshit and choice of pawns is working out on deflecting suspicion against a bigger conspiracy - I think the feds are reluctant to give conspiracy wingnuts credibility.”

Someone isn’t paying attention to politics, I mused internally. On the surface, I just smiled and took a sip of my coffee, suppressing a grimace at how bitter and nasty it was. Cold brew…. How hard did you have to try to fuck up cold brew, I swear. “Either way, the damage had controlled itself so far.  Any updates since you called? I checked my skimmers right after, but the news was sparse.”

“So far an announcement that 4Chan white supremacist boards are going to be looked at more seriously as a breeding ground for stochastic terrorism coming from the FBI, unsurprisingly now that they’re affecting rich people.” 

Nils gave an evil chuckle. “Oh good, that’s a pot I was stirring a bit ago. Unmanaged retaliation against cops in a predictable timeframe for whatever happens to them and we can let the system eat itself and look away from us, thank you very much…”

The only reason my head didn’t bounce off the table when I dropped it is because my arms cushioned the fall. “Don’t get me wrong!” I held a hand up blindly. “After the revenge porn thing, yes, scrutinize breeding grounds. And at least everyone knows the guys who are currently taking the fall are not - “ I pointed at myself emphatically. “But I am not a fan of ‘unmanaged’ retaliation against a group with airtight legal protections and a poor track record of reading perp stats correctly.” It was the most polite way I could say ‘racist assholes’ without everyone in the cafe looking at me.

“Options: I have to actively take command of the right wing gun nuts a la some shitty real life Code Geass-ripoff shenanigans to manage them, or I let their anti-government shit lead them to fight actual problems for a change, or I let them continue believing that the Jews were running the world and that everyone who couldn’t pass a paper bag test were their foot soldiers in need of shooting - right as the ax was about to fall on them. Guess which option I figured involved the least collateral damage? If you prefer I decide to go whole hog on the aesthetic and try ripping off Lelouch vi Britannia harder, which to me seemed worse than telling them they were going to have a cop problem rather than a Jews run the world problem…” Nils response was less annoyed than exhausted, and unlike our previous conversation where it was clear that he hadn’t thought it out and felt bad about it, his tone indicated that he’d thought this one through and had simply picked the least evil available option he saw. 

Thankfully, Bishop’s unending focus on ‘simplest solution is best solution’ saved me palm abrasions and an assault charge from strangling the cute but dumb motherfucker on the spot. “Since the heat right now is on an actual breeding ground for incels, alt right, and revenge porn entrepreneurs, we could just let them chase their tails and keep laying low. White collar crime is historically white, et cetera, ipso facto Columbo Oreo.”

“I like that idea,” I agreed, putting as much reluctance as possible behind the sentiment. Realistically, Nils as Commander and Chief of the Fucknuckle Wingnut Army was not giving me the warm and fuzzies.

[fitrahgolden]

Lilies and Soap: 6 - Someone to Keep

[NOTE: What’s this? A chapter whose word count actually surpasses 2k? From little ole moi?]

"Knew what I wanted

Didn’t know that I had it

Someone I’ll continue

To see while I sleep

I'll love her out loud

Kneel at her altar

She's ever above me

Someone to keep"

"Someone to Keep" by A. E. Bridgerton.

Lyrics by A. E. Bridgerton.

—

Anthony and Benedict sat in the green room of a late night talk show, watching the monologue on the screen that was mounted to the wall.

"I know I've been an idiot." Anthony rested his head against the back of the couch, not looking in Benedict's direction. 

"Brilliant. Are we talking about anything specific?" Benedict asked with a grin. 

"Fuck off," he scoffed, then added quietly, "but, yes."

"Oh."

Anthony turned to look at his brother. Benedict seemed to already know what Anthony was talking about.

"I've really hurt her, haven't I?"

Benedict shrugged as he started to answer and Anthony knew from the look on his face that that answer was going to be short of the truth. 

“Ben, come on.”

Benedict sighed and his shoulders slumped. "You didn't mean to, Ant. You didn't do anything wrong."

"But I've hurt her."

"She's…been having a hard time."

Anthony winced. "You've talked about it?"

"Not technically. We've been not talking about it for a little while now."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because it's for you two to sort out. To say something or not say something. To name it or pretend it isn't there."

Anthony raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's true,” Benedict insisted. “And… she may have asked me not to say anything."

Anthony nodded. "While you were 'not talking about it.'"

"Right."

"Right," Anthony parroted.

"So… I take it you've had some sort of revelation?"

Anthony laughed ruefully. "Yeah, you could definitely say that."

"And?" Ben implored.

"And…we'll see what happens after tonight."

—

Anthony was always meant to do this interview and performance alone. It had been booked months ago. Kate had a scheduling conflict with her family plans, as the date of the taping was the same day as her late father's birthday. However, it was too good of an opportunity to turn down, so she and Benedict encouraged Anthony to do it on his own.

Now, Anthony was thankful for the opportunity to perform without Kate. It was auspicious timing, getting a chance to perform this song for her. Benedict was wary of changing the song choice, especially to something that hadn't even been recorded, let alone released. Anthony didn't fully explain, but he was convincing enough to get Benedict and the label to go along with it.

Now, as the interview was coming to a close, it was almost time for his big swing. Considering the reason Kate wasn't there, Anthony knew it'd be insensitive at best to make sure she'd be watching when the show aired. He knew she'd see it soon, if not tonight.

In the final few minutes of the interview, the host, Lulu, leaned in conspiratorially and said, "So, Anthony, I heard the live performance you're giving us tonight is a bit of a world premiere, eh?" She turned to the audience with raised eyebrows. "Using your band mate's absence as an opportunity to launch your solo career, are you?"

"Oh, absolutely. Can't put all my eggs in one basket." Anthony laughed along with the audience. 

"OK, well, I just have one more question. Just for fun. Let’s settle the debate here and now: Which one of you is Lilies and which one of you is Soap?"

Anthony knew he ruminated for much longer than Lulu had expected for such a purposely silly question. Eventually, he responded with absolutely no humour. "It's Kate. They're both Kate. It's all… Kate."

There were a few "aw"s in the audience, but mostly silence. Lulu looked like she was at a bit of a loss after the unexpected answer, but she recovered quickly. 

"Well, in that case, we'll just have to see how you do without her, hm?" She was teasing him goodnaturedly, but Anthony couldn’t help but think about how poorly he would do without Kate in his life.

—

The other stage lights were turned down, leaving the spotlight on Anthony alone at the piano. He could make out Benedict in the shadows giving him a supportive nod.

He started playing the opening chords of “Someone to Keep.” He hadn't realised how nervous he was. His hand slipped. He stopped, took a breath, and said "oops" into the mic, eliciting a laugh from the audience, which gave him time to clear his mind and start again.

It went smoothly after that. He really couldn’t have asked for a better performance. What had become a recurring vision of Kate spurred him on. He poured everything he had into every word, every stroke of the keys. And before he knew it, the room had erupted into applause. Lulu came over, gave him a handshake, and turned towards the camera to close out the show.

—

Anthony was high on adrenaline as he stayed after the taping to meet with fans and sign a few autographs. By the time the meet and greet was over, Tom had watched the early, unedited video of the performance LMG requested, and texted Anthony.

Tom (LMG): Fuck, yeah! We're gonna record that shit for sure!

So, apparently the label was happy. 

He'd lost count of how many times Benedict patted him on the back. "She's gonna love it," his brother told him.

And all Anthony could do was pray that Benedict was right. 

—

Anthony watched the show that night. The family text thread was blowing up during and afterwards. The messages were coming in too fast. Not just from his family, but from his friends and LMG as well. It was too much to even attempt to respond to. He'd get to it tomorrow once they stopped, or at least slowed. When Hyacinth texted, asking what he planned to do once he saw Kate, however, he did feel the need to answer immediately. He said he didn't know and asked everyone on the thread to please not say anything to her until he had a chance to talk to her. 

One person who had not reached that night was Kate. He tried not to read into it. She could easily have not seen it yet. Or she did and was processing it. Maybe she didn't even know it was about her. Was that even possible? There was, of course, a fourth possibly. That she saw it, understood the message, and wasn't interested. Anthony didn't want to think about that prospect. They had plans to meet at the studio tomorrow evening. He figured he'd know something by then.

Sleep didn't come easy, but it did come eventually.

—

Anthony was too nervous to do much the next day before it was time to go to the studio.

Benedict texted and asked if Anthony had heard from Kate and if he wanted to hang out before the session.

He declined the offer to meet up, but said he had actually heard from Kate. Anthony had worked up the nerve to call her while she was on the train home. He asked how her stay in Somerset for her father's memorial went. And, to his surprise, she asked how the talk show went. He stammered a bit as he told her it really well, not adding much detail. There were a few beats of silence before he made himself ask if she’d watched it. He was a little relieved when she said she hadn't, but the nerves came back in full force when she said she would before they met tonight. He didn't trust himself to keep it together for much longer, so he ended the call shortly after that, but not before asking if she needed a ride. Kate said she would meet him there, but would appreciate a ride home afterward.

And so, all that was left to do was wait. And hope.

—

"Hey, you OK?" Anthony asked as he greeted Kate with a hug that she leaned into.

"Yeah, it was good seeing everyone, especially Appa and Amma's family from Bengaluru. It's basically the only time I get to see them."

"Yeah, I know. I'm glad it went well."

Anthony was staring at her, the plea for Kate to say something about the interview exceedingly obvious to her.

"Um, shall we get started?" She was almost afraid to watch his reaction. She saw disappointment flash across his features before he smiled softly and nodded.

She followed him into the studio with a heavy sigh.

—

Try as Kate might, it wasn't working out to be a particularly productive session. Her nerves were making it hard for her to look Anthony in the eye and hold a conversation. Anthony seemed distracted, which wasn't surprising at all. She felt a bit silly for thinking they'd be able to work without addressing the elephant in the room, but she wasn't sure she wanted to. 

She’d known the plan had been for Anthony to perform "Bane of My Existence," since it was popular, and he provided the main vocals for it anyway. The fact that LMG approved the performance of a brand new song that she hadn't even heard was surprising and made her very curious. 

When she watched Anthony's segment during the tailend of her train ride back to London, so many emotions came to the surface. The hope that blossomed scared her, the love she felt warmed her, the ache she could sense in his voice brought her to tears. And the doubt made her pause. What if she had massively misread things?

"Lamb?"

Anthony's voice jostled Kate out of her thoughts.

"Sorry. Yes?"

"It doesn't seem like we're feeling it tonight."

"No, no." Kate sat back down at the piano. "Let's just finish this bit." She started playing the incomplete phrase they had been trying and failing to work on. She could feel Anthony's stare as he slowly moved to sit beside her on the bench. He put his hands on top of hers. She stopped playing and reluctantly met his gaze.

There was silence for a few moments before he spoke, softly. “Why don't you want to talk about it, Lamb?”

There was no point in acting as if she didn't know what he was referring to. It was all she could think about, and apparently it had been the same for him.

"Because I'm not sure what to say. Or what you want me to say. Or what I should say."

Anthony nodded with understanding.

Kate took a big breath. 

"Was it for me?" Her voice was small.

—

Anthony was flooded with a sense of relief. She'd gotten the message, even if she needed confirmation that she’d understood it correctly.

He turned to her and looked her in the eye. He wanted to be absolutely clear. "It was it for you, Lamb. Every word. Every note."

"Oh."

Anthony's nerves began to work overtime. He wasn't taking anything for granted, but, judging from what little Benedict had said, Kate felt something, too. Maybe not to the same degree, maybe not exactly the same thing. But Anthony thought he had reason to hope.

"How long?" She asked.

A completely reasonable question to which he didn't have a particularly good answer.

"Now that I know, it feels like it's been a long time. But… Honestly, I didn't realise it until a couple of weeks ago."

Kate said nothing.

"I know how it sounds, Lamb. But I don't know how to explain it. It feels new and it feels like it's been forever."

"I understand, Tony."

"You do?" He felt his heartbeat quicken.

"I went through something similar. A few months ago."

Anthony grabbed her hands and pulled them to his chest.

"Lamb, why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you're my band mate. What we do requires a good relationship between us. Because you're my friend. I love your family. My family loves you."

"Those last few reasons sound like an excellent argument for us to be together, actually." Anthony managed to smirk.

"Tony…"

"What do we do now, Lamb?"

Kate thought about it for a long moment. "Can we go to mine and talk about it?"

Anthony smiled as he cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead.

"Yeah, of course. Let's go."

—

Anthony took a chance and held Kate's hand as they walked down the hall. His chest tightened when he felt Kate intertwine their fingers as they exited the studio–directly into a downpour of rain.

“Fuck!” Kate backed up against the door, underneath the awning.

“The car isn’t far. Let’s just make a run for it.” Anthony tugged on her hand.

She exhaled sharply and moved towards him. A bright flash of lightning and booming thunder had her retreating back inside. Anthony followed.

Kate slumped against the hallway wall before sliding down to the floor. “Fucking pop up storms.”

Anthony sat against the wall opposite Kate, concern written all over his face. “It sounds like it’s right over us. It’ll pass soon.” He pulled out his phone. “Want me to check?”

Kate’s gaze was fixated on the door, but she answered quickly. “Yes.”

After a few moments, Anthony held up the radar image on his screen. “See, Lamb? It won’t be long at all.”

Anthony stared at Kate as she stared at the door. He’d seen her like this several times. He knew she didn’t need help, that this one wasn’t too bad. 

After about 10 minutes, Kate turned to Anthony, eyebrows raised. “Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you check?”

“The radar, or can I open the door?”

“The door, please.”

Anthony hopped up and opened the door about a quarter of the way.

“All’s clear. Well, it’s still spitting, but I can see some stars and it’s pretty quiet.” He reached out to Kate. “Shall we, Lamb?”

Kate took a deep breath before getting up and taking Anthony’s hand. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Anthony put his arm around Kate’s shoulders as the rain misted them on the way to his car. Once they reached it in the otherwise empty car park, Kate leaned against the door as Anthony was moving to open it for her. “Um… Are we getting inside?”

“If I told you I wanted you to kiss me right now, would you think it was because of the storm?”

“Hmm.” Anthony put his hands against the car door on either side of Kate, levelling their gaze. “No, I wouldn’t think that.”

“Why not?” Kate tilted her head.

“You’ve never kissed me after a storm before.” Anthony reached to twirl a lock of Kate’s wet hair around his finger.

“I’ve never kissed you at all.”

Anthony gulped after looking down at her lips, which were dotted with water droplets. "Do you want to change that?"

Kate didn't say at first, just studied his face.

“Tony?”

“Yes, Lamb?” Anthony whispered.

“Please kiss me.”

[jonaantara]

Sharing my monologue script

Numbers Don't Define Us

What is it about numbers? Why do some people care about them so much? Why are some of us judged or treated unfairly because of them? Numbers are in every part of our lives. They tell our age, our grades, our weight, and the value of the things we own. But numbers are supposed to be just that—numbers. No deeper meaning, no hidden implications. Yet now, numbers have become more than what they are. They’ve become sources of judgment. They shape how the world sees us.

I’m 19, and for others, it seems to mean something more than just my age. Some say, “You’re 19, you should know better by now.” Others say, “You’re still so young, you wouldn’t understand.” What’s that supposed to mean? Am I supposed to have everything figured out because I’m legally an adult? Or am I expected to remain clueless because I’m still technically a teenager?

And it’s not just me, it happens to everyone. A 12-year-old’s thoughts get dismissed with, “You’re just a kid.” An 18-year-old is expected to grow up overnight because “You’re an adult now.” A 31-year-old is pressured to marry and have children because they’re “past the calendar.”

But isn’t it unfair? Age is just a number, telling us how long we’ve lived. It doesn’t define who we are, who we should be, or what we should do. It doesn’t reflect our wisdom or maturity. I could be 10 and responsible. I could be 30 and still love watching Barbie. I could be 60 and still make impulsive decisions, or be as strong as a cow. We shouldn’t be limited by society’s expectations of our age. Being young doesn’t equal ignorance or naivety. Being old doesn’t equal the end of growth or weakness. We are not our age.

But it’s not just age. Grades are another way numbers are used to label and judge us. Some students are praised as smart and promising for having good grades, while others are labeled lazy or not trying hard enough for struggling academically. But isn’t that unfair? Grades don’t tell the whole story. They don’t show the late nights spent rereading the same lessons, the tears of frustration when we struggled to understand, or the courage it took to ask questions when everything seemed easy for others.

We are not our grades. They don’t define what we’ve learned, the effort we’ve put in, or our growth. They don’t measure our creativity or resilience. And they certainly don’t determine our worth, intelligence, or future. A number on a piece of paper doesn’t reflect who we truly are or what we’re capable of achieving.

Aside from grades, we are also judged on our weight and material possessions—numbers on a scale and price tags. If you’re too skinny, people tell you to eat more. If you’re overweight, you hear whispers or rude comments. We’re made to feel imperfect and pressured to fit into certain beauty standards. And it’s unfair. Weight is just a number. It shouldn’t measure our beauty, it shouldn’t limit our confidence, and it shouldn’t determine our self-worth.

And then there are price tags. Wear expensive clothes and people respect you. Wear something cheap and you’re suddenly less worthy of attention. And that’s wrong. The value of what we own says nothing about the value of who we are. Respect shouldn’t come with a price tag. 

Age, grades, weight, and the value of the things we own – they’re all represented by numbers. But those numbers do not represent us. We are more than our age, our grades, our weight, or the price tags on our possessions. Numbers might quantify some parts of our lives, but they will never define who we are. We are our smiles, our dreams, and our strength. We are people with stories that no number can ever explain.

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

You falling asleep on them after a long day

Characters: Jean / Yelan / Ei x gn!reader (separate)

Warnings: none, just fluff

a/n: I scrolled through some old posts of mine and found a request someone sent in when my requests were closed a few months ago, and it just seemed too cute not to write it. It was requested by @khanhlinh6809

If there are any mistakes, I'm really sorry. It's pretty late and I'm honestly really tired, that's also the reason why it's a bit shorter than my usual posts.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Jean

While Jean had noticed your signs of exhaustion the moment, she laid eyes on you that evening, it was fair to say that she hadn’t expected you to nod off the moment the two of you sat down on your couch.

At first, she couldn’t help but freeze, her face to heating up, once she remembered how often she had read about such situations in the romance novels she liked to read whenever she needed to a quick and effective way to de-stress from all of her work. And while she felt embarrassed to admit that she had always silently dreamed of being in such a situation herself, she had imagined her to be the one to fall asleep on the other person’s shoulder, not the other way around.

When she finally somewhat managed to calm down, the next issue at hand was what she should do. She could just follow suit and close her eyes, and while the couch was far from the worst places, she fell asleep on, the bed with her favourite pillow, sounded much better. But she also soon realised that trying to move you to bed would most likely result in you waking up, you were somewhat of a light sleeper after-all, and the alternative of sneaking off herself and leaving you to sleep alone also left a bitter taste in her mouth.

But as her inner monologue dragged on, Jean’s own eyelids started to feel heavy, and before long she began resting her head against yours before falling asleep and mumbling out a few last words.

“Good night, my love.”

Yelan

Naps have always been one of Yelan’s favourite past-time activities, especially after completing a tiring task or finishing her workload at once. So, when you fell asleep on her after finishing a workload even she couldn’t help but shudder at, she was more than considerate.

That being said, the schedule she had made for the day technically required her to get to work, and while she thought about actually following it for a few seconds, she eventually decided that work could wait. There were still a few weeks until she needed to be done with it, after all, so it wouldn’t hurt anyone if she simply did it another time. Her schedule couldn’t have possibly predicted your sudden decision to use her as a pillow, after all.

But while she’d have to remake her schedule because of you, the time spent sitting motionlessly by Yelan was far from a waste of time, especially after you began mumbling a few words while asleep, and while they weren’t coherent, the whole situation being more similar to someone reading out random words from a dictionary than actually saying anything, it still amused her.

“And? How was your sleep?”, she asked you once she felt the weight lift from her shoulder as you finally awoke, instantly starting to blush once you realised what had happened.

Yes, she was going to have a field-day with this.

Ei

While you falling asleep on Ei was far from rare, you clearly remembered how hesitant you were to do so at first, the thought of resting on your god seeming semi-sacrilegious to you. The goddess in question didn’t have anything against it however, seeing it as a nice way to spend more time with you, and while you weren’t awake, your simple presence was enough to make Ei feel at peace.

When you finally fell asleep against Ei’s shoulder, she immediately moved your head over on her lap, enabling her to have a better look at your sleeping face. Normally the Archon would use the time you spent asleep for her meditation, but this time, Ei’s eyes never stopped staring at your face, and before she had even noticed herself, her fingers slowly began running through your hair, as her mind wandered off to all kinds of memories.

Memories from centuries ago and memories of just a few days ago, some of them happy, some of them not, all of them found themselves in Ei’s mind, and while those containing her sister and friends were still by far her favourites, the ones she shared with you were the ones, that consistently brought a smile to her face.

But her memories eventually were interrupted when she felt something grab her other hand, only for Ei to be greeted by a tired smile of yours when she was brought back to the real world, making her realise how long she spent silently looking at your face.

“Good morning, Ei”, you greeted before letting out a small yawn, instantly covering your mouth with your other hand before giving her yet another smile. “Good morning.”

[twocorvids]

oooo what about an inner monologue or thought process and Morty's feelings about Rick Prime?? :0 (for the writing thing??)

helloooo again! I’m sorry I send these so late at night but I guess that’s just when the mind starts working for me lol. more notes at the end! sorry if ooc!

———

Morty sometimes wonders what sort of person he'd have to be to catch his original grandfather's attention. It's not often, but it's an occasion that catches him in the night when his sheets are rustled around him. When the night reaches its pitch, and his mind is the lighter that flickers on and off, an annoying brightness in the corner of his mind that keeps him restless.

And when he inevitably turns to the ceiling and accepts it, his mind comes to take the chance to spark and catch fire. He comes alight with questions like What is he like and Could I see myself in him?

In the mornings afterwards, Morty doesn't think about them too much. He doesn't have to, when his real grandfather comes grumbling about. He can watch his Rick slouch in his chair and huff and puff as he makes his way through his breakfast. And Morty can tell himself to not think about it, and he doesn't.

For these fleeting moments, C-137 Rick can be his real, biological grandfather. No doctor would certainly know the difference, and Morty himself wouldn't know if he hadn't been taught. If Rick could be his grandfather for as long as the daylight stays, why couldn't he be all the time?

Yet, there was moments where this frozen moment in time thawed. Rick would slip and say something a little too mean, and Morty would drown in it. He would be caught in the waves, but his eyes would be caught in the stars, in the pitch black, in a different place.

How much is Rick like my Rick?

That particular thought struck him when he was in the garage, handing Rick some sci-fi tool that he can't be bothered to remember the name of — because his throat is closing up with the realization he doesn't know who he really means by 'my Rick.'

My Rick, he answers himself frantically, dropping the hard metallic thing in his hands. It makes a resounding enough clack on the floor to make him jump.

"Morty!" Rick hisses through his teeth. "Oh, goddamnit! Do you realize what a pain in the ass those are to get?"

"Uh, I don't know, ca — can't you just make a new one?" Morty says, a strange dissociation washing over him. Drowning him. He feels like he's floating somewhere far away. Something in him is perfectly neutral, uncaring about all the thoughts that rummage through him. This isn't his real grandfather, is he? This was a sad, weary old man, with wiry arms that would shake the wrath of God if he could, if it were possible. A man lonely enough to set up shop in someone else's life, enough to cling to flesh and blood that technically wasn't his own. But does that really matter?

Rick raises a bony hand to his head, rubbing at his uni-brow. Morty is stablizing with the weird knowledge that he can see the wrinkles on his grandpa's face and hands, the age, when Rick stops abruptly and he smiles. More of a snarl, if anything.

"You know what? I can," Rick reaches out and shoves his newest project to the side of his desk, "and I'd tell you what a fucking ball-buster it is, but I don't need to. Because you're about to find out, you little destructive bitch. Fucking brown-hair-that-looks-like-a-helmet looking asshole."

The remaining day is a long one. For once, it's one Morty is grateful for. It distributes the distraction he needs, and the jarring insults Rick dishes out along their merry way anchors him, even stings and heals like antiseptic.

"You know," Rick calls out right as the clock hits the 4AM point, "even through all this, you're still the biggest ball-buster. Seriously, think long and hard about this, Morty. This is the shit that always happens when you fuck up my shit. And just how many times do you pull it?" Rick sneers at him, screwing something into the halfway-done device.

"Enough times for it to be your fucking hobby, practically a college course you take in order to figure out how to screw my stuff up as much as possible. Is it a fun little pastime, pissing grandpa off? Pissing Rick Sanchez off? Huh, Morty?”

Morty's mind flickers again, on and off, and his sigh was deep when he looked up at the ceiling. Another night long and gone, past, with him harboring the same thoughts like some terrible secret.

It's in week four of this nonsense when the problem seemed to finally solve itself.

"Rick — Rick!" Morty howls, twisting and turning. "I'm, I'm sorry, okay? Fine, I was being a — a cocky asshole, okay? You win." All that answers him is the rustling of leaves and a wind that chills him down to his pulsing heart. It thumps louder in his ears when he grabs his hair, right as the realization that he's lost and alone on the alien planet, Zateria, strikes him like lightning.

Alone on Zateria, with hunters right on his tail. Man-eaters. Alien hunters with a penchant for human flesh. He's dizzy with it, with the way he can feel his pulse spike if he presses his thumb hard enough to his veins when he hears the familiar yells in foreign tongue.

He bolts, weaving through the black-leafed trees. His ears ring at the sound of guns and his legs shake, but he still jumps over the occasional purple log easily enough.

In a way, this is the easy part. His extraterrestrial sojourns with his grandfather have made the simple act of running more than instinct, more than human nature. It was innate, both to his general sense of identity and his desire to live. As long as his blood keeps rushing, he ought to as well.

He smacks into a dense tree, bark scratching at his hands and arms, and cowers behind it. He drops to his knees and sits, heart racing. Now, this is the hard part. Waiting, hiding, having enough time for the adrenaline to cool in his body. It's enough time for his head to kick into overdrive, for his mind to scald and burn.

He hears a shot right next to his right ear, jolts up to his left from his hiding place, and he's suddenly burning all over near his abdomen.

"For the love of god, Morty," Someone — Rick — yells as Morty drops to the ground, overcome with heat and nausea. He feels as though his thoughts are dragging behind him, barely processing in his brain, hardly paying attention to the influx of gunshots and cursing. He presumes that Rick is the body that crashes next to him.

He feels his grandfather's calloused hands grasp at his shoulders, gently hoisting him up.

"You do realize we don't have portal travel anymore, right? You — You can't just bet on me being able to save your dumb little ass all the time." Rick says, moving to hold Morty up with one arm as his other lifts his shirt to assess the damage. Morty winces, but if he looks close enough, he can see the creases, the cracks starting to show on Rick's face. He can feel Rick’s hands shake, the way he looks like he’s seeing a supernova burble to an end, the core of it collapsing in on itself.

“I told you not to run off. I fucking told you. I — I don’t even know if I have another one of these things on me.” Rick is rummaging through his labcoat, practically patting himself down as Morty weakly tries to balance himself. He tries, if nothing else can be said for Morty, he tries.

“You’re my grandpa.” Morty whispers, eyes watery. “Grandpa Rick.” The guilt bubbles up him like poison at the realization.

Rick breathes a shaky breathe and adds nothing, pulling a syringe out of his pocket.

“Jesus, would it kill you to listen to me instead of counting on dumb luck as your failsafe?” Rick snaps, holding Morty still as he sticks him with it. Morty spasms and wiggles, tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Morty says, suddenly. It’s brisk like a draft of wind. “I’m sorry, for being stupid.” He mumbles, head lowering as his shoulders shake. The wounds start to heal and patch themselves up, yet Morty still claws at his grandfather’s arm.

His mind flickers again, frantic. My grandpa, my grandpa, his mind resounds, my grandpa.

Rick merely stares.

Morty wraps his arms around him, arms like rope, tying him to this moment.

“You’re not like him,” Morty whispers, “I — I’m not. Neither of us are.”

And maybe that was the biggest insult to a man who had spent the majority of his life trying to achieve exactly that. To mirror, to reflect, all in the name of never having to truly look at himself again and inspect what that meant.

Rick is tense like the wood of the trees. Maybe, in a way, Morty is still trying to protect himself, trying to hide behind something sturdy. Behind the grandfather that actually stayed, the one that brushed his hair out of eyes and held him every once in a while.

He doesn’t have a way of knowing if Rick understands, but he raises his arms like he does. He holds his grandson in his arms cautiously, and it’s not clear who he considers to be most in danger here.

“We’re not,” Morty mumbles with the same weight of a star that quietly burns in the galaxy, in the distance. “We’re not.”

———

haha, yeah. I thought this would be shorter than the other one but it didn’t quite pan out that way. I have mixed feelings about this one honestly, but a big part of getting through these requests is getting myself into writing again, and I’m not sure I could do much better with the idea/ideas I had with this one. i think I may have done too much at once tbh. and I feel this one’s a lot more ooc than the other one. I hope you still enjoy it regardless! EDIT: in retrospect, I think I was being really cruel to myself last night lmaoo. it was late and I think I’m realizing I get really self-critical then and when I’ve been working on something awhile. I was rereading this A LOT and i guess it just started to blur together into something nonsensical to me. i actually like it a lot better now. It reads smoother than I thought it did so I’m actually kinda happy with it now lmaooo

[bonkywobble]

Soulmate AU - Jake Jensen - t...imers are set on the wrist of every person once they are a certain age, slowly counting down until the day they meet their soulmate.

Fucking Brian

Pairing: Jake Jensen x Reader (Soulmate AU)

Warnings: awkward first meetings, humour, language, slight fluff. 18+ only. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION.

Word count: 750+ words

Disclaimer: I do not give anyone permission to take, repost, copy or translate my stories, regardless of whether or not they are credited. This blog and all works associated with are 18+ only. Minors please do not interact or follow.

A/N: Trying to break away from my imposters syndrome. Slowly going through the ask box. Dividers by @firefly-graphics. Will tag in the morning because I need to sleep now x

Main Masterlist / Add yourself to my tag list!

Your frustration mounts with every increase in your workload: Brian from marketing has yet another complaint made against him for not showing up to work, and fucking Cheryl keeps forcing IT to change her password for her because the stupid bitch never writes it down. Above all, your boss - still somehow Brian - has magically lost the handout you’d previously typed up for the company latest pitch, forcing you to sift through masses of corporate files to find and print the damn thing again. But even that isn’t the biggest upset of the day.

You’re meant to meet your soulmate today, yet because of all of this it looks like you won’t even make it out of the building. A quick glance at the timer that you’ve had on your wrist since your thirteenth birthday confirms your worst fear: 000:00:00:10.

Only ten seconds left.

No.

Fuck.

Your opportunity? Gone. Just like that.

Dropping your head in your hands as a mixture of anger, despair and disappointment washes over you, you fail to hear the set of heavy steps racing down the hallway. And it’s only when a disheveled blond man practically throws himself into your office - slamming the door closed with enough force to rattle the shutters on your windows - that you finally notice the commotion.

Failing to see you the stranger takes a moment to adjust both his breathing and his glasses. Your hand moves to rest near the phone at your desk, security only a phone call away. His eyes snap up at your movement, and that’s when you both hear it - your timers going off in sync.

Your gaze drops to your wrist and the realisation quickly sinks in, your confusion leaving you; it actually happened.

No way.

“Holy shit,” he lowly exclaims. “Holy shit, it’s you.”

You can only nod in delight, the clubbed expression on his face mirroring yours. This guy - this beaming, broad shouldered stranger with a puppy-like face - is your soulmate?

“Christ, I definitely did not expect to meet you this way. Granted, I thought it’d be more along the lines of me saving the sexy damsel in distress. I had a whole hero monologue planned and everything but technically I’m still on a mission so this totally works-”

“Okay, stop.” You cut him off, eyes blinking in slight bewilderment. You catch your breath as the realisations of he was running from the staff and you don’t know him begin to sink in. “Who are you, and what reason do you have to be hiding out in my office?”

His blue eyes widen as you point at the door. Before you can ask about the guards chasing him, you hear faint footsteps grow louder. Both of your heads snap towards the door.

Your soulmate steps forward, hand raising in a gesture that’s meant to placate your worries. It only slightly works.

“My name is Corporal Jake Jensen,” he swallows, “and I’m here to investigate a Brian Milson. I may have been caught going through his things-”

Of course it’s fucking Brian, of course this is his fault.

Goddamnit.

“-only because he’s into some mysterious, dodgy shit. Like, extra parking lot late at night, no witnesses, never ever leaves a tip kinda dodgy-”

It’s with a mixed bag of emotions that you cut him off again, too painfully aware of both the growing outside noise and his right hand steadily drifting towards his waistline, searching for something out of habit. “Story time later, under the desk.”

He stares confused at you for a second before a second downwards jerk of your head spurs him into action. Moving your seat as needed the captain scrambles into position. His eyes briefly meet yours as you push your chair forward again, and you feel with growing certainty that this man would lay his life down for yours in a heartbeat. (Albeit in a very overly dramatic way, probably.)

“Don’t make this awkward.”

“Yes ma’am.”

His breath is hot on your knees, making your own hitch. “And don’t try anything.”

There’s a very short pause before you receive another response of, “yes ma’am.”

You swear for the briefest moment before the latest hires in security knock on your door that you feel the pad of a finger gingerly graze your ankle, unsure if the action’s meant to be reassuring or teasing, or both.

(Jake confirms three days later on your first date that it was both after his flimsy excuse of “I liked your… shoes” fails to land. You also both agree that - as much as it pains the two of you - it was Brian and your mutual loathing of him that brought you both together.

Your soulmate sends a thank you card to his cell once a year.)

[twst-bs]

NRC Students and an Anxious MC

And with this, I've done all of the students at NRC!! Well, with the nervous MC, anyway, I have some other stuff in the works too.

Also, in case anyone was wondering, I'm open for both requests and commissions!

-----

Ace: “You look awful.”

The Ramshackle Prefect shot Ace a glare, but it lacked their usual fire. “Thanks, Ace.”

“Come on, I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.” he caught up with them easily when they turned around to keep walking. “I just meant you looked like you had a rough night. Or like you’re stressed out. You know.”

“Your grave only has to be six feet, Ace, you can stop digging now.”

Ace rolled his eyes. “You aren’t usually this crabby. Seriously, what’s up?”

They sighed. “You’re right, I had a rough night.”

“Any particular reason why? Or just ‘cause?”

The two of them had reached Crewel’s classroom, but they still had a few minutes before they had to be in there. The Prefect bit their lip nervously. “I kind of freaked out last night because of the homework.”

“It was pretty hard, huh?”

“Well, that too,” they crossed their arms, almost like they were trying to hide themself. “But, it’s like...I feel stupid, you know? You guys all know this magic stuff, but I’m struggled to handle even the basics. Then I thought, well, if I can’t handle the basics, I’m going to get punished, and I would deserve it because I’m an idiot, and...you can see how the spiral went.”

Ace was quiet for a moment, studying them with an unreadable expression. Then, he heaved out a side and grabbed their wrist, tugging them into the classroom. “I guess it can’t be helped, then.”

“Huh?”

He plopped unceremoniously into his seat and dug around in his bag. “Be quick about it, okay? Queen only knows what Crewel’s punishment for getting caught copying homework is.”

The Prefect stared at Ace with wide eyes. “Seriously?”

“It’s better than nothing,” Ace shrugged, slapping his notebook down on the desk. “If he says anything, I’ll tell him you helped me word it. Now, come on!”

Deuce: They weren’t getting anywhere.

The longer they stared at the question on their worksheet, the less they could focus. Apparently this was supposed to be basic stuff, but there were so many strange ingredients with different magical properties that they couldn’t keep track. And the more that had to flip back and forth between their textbook and worksheet, the more stupid they felt.

“...right? Hey, are you alright?”

Deuce’s voice broke through the panic that was beginning to set in, and when they finally looked up, his blue eyes were wide with concern.

“What? I’m sorry, Deuce, I kinda...spaced there for a minute.”

That only made the crease in Deuce’s brow deepen. “You looked really freaked out. Is something wrong?”

The two of them had made a habit out of studying in the library together. Since Deuce wasn’t the best student and the Prefect was playing a very intense game of catch up, they figured they could motivate each other while studying. But lately, all they had been able to do was sit there and be anxious about everything.

"I...um…" They absent-mindedly clicked their pen, unable to look Deuce in the eye. "I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" he asked incredulously. "For real, are you alright?"

The genuine worry in his expression made something in them burst. They threw their pen down on the table and buried their face in their hands. "I don't know what I'm doing! I went from magic not existing to suddenly having to study it, and I can't even master the basics! I'm terrified that I'll fail and Crowley will kick me out and -"

"Whoa, whoa, hey, it's okay!" Deuce's chair scraped against the floor as he hurried over to their side, grasping their hands in his. "Everything's gonna be okay."

Their chest heaved as they tried to suck in enough air. "But -"

"Listen," he cut them off. "The stuff you have to deal with is a lot. And I'm sorry for not realizing it earlier. If you want, we can go to Professor Crewel and ask for some tutoring, or even remedial lessons. Whatever you need, I'll help."

Cater: “What are you looking at?”

At the sound of the Ramshackle Prefect’s voice from behind the couch he was sitting on in the Heartslabyul lounge, Cater lolled his head back to grin at them. “Heya! Just scrolling through Magicam, what else is new?”

“That is your favorite pastime, huh?” they leaned on the back of the couch, looking at the screen.

“What are you doing in Heartslabyul, anyway?” he asked.

“Ace thought he could get away with not studying if he ‘forgot’ his textbooks at Ramshackle. I’m returning them before Riddle thinks I was in on it.””

“Yeah, that tracks.”

The two of them lapsed into a companionable silence, the Prefect watching as Cater scrolled. However, out of the corner of his eye, he could see their expression gradually get tighter and tighter, like they were trying to control whatever emotion was trying to show through.

“What’s with that face?”

“What face?” they asked defensively. “This is just my face.”

“That’s the face you make when you start having bad thoughts but don’t want anybody to know.”

“Get out of my head, Cater.”

He snorted, turning so he was sitting sideways on the couch and could get a better look at them. “Come on, tell Cay what’s on your mind.”

They hesitated, picking idly at the loose thread on the couch. “...It’s just me being stupid.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“...The people on Magicam are way more good-looking than I am.” the finally mumbled, looking away. “I keep wondering when you’ll realize that.”

Cater’s green eyes widened before he giggled. “Nope.”

“Nope what?”

“I won’t realize it,” he reached around them to pull their face closer, kissing them affectionately on the cheek. “Because it’s not true. And whenever you start to think like that, you tell me, so I can reassure you.”

Jack: Something felt off.

Nothing in particular had happened, it was just one of those days. But, it was bad enough that they thought about just going back to Ramshackle instead of waiting for Jack like they normally did. Waiting outside of the classroom just made them feel even more antsy.

Just as they were about to shoot him a text to say that they weren’t feeling well - which wasn’t technically a lie - said wolf came out of the classroom, tail wagging involuntarily when he saw them waiting like it wasn’t an everyday occurrence.

Before he could even greet them, however, his nose scrunched up. Furrowing his eyebrows, he leaned down and began sniffing them.

“Jack, what the hell?”

“You’re nervous about something.”

Right. Nothing could beat that canine sense of smell.

“It’s nothing.” Jack opened his mouth to reply, but they cut him off. “No, literally. Nothing actually happened, it’s just a...a weird day, I guess.”

It was clear from the expression on his face that Jack didn’t quite understand, but the guy was nothing if not sympathetic. “Do you need help with anything?”

“Nah, it should eventually work itself out.” They tried to muster up an encouraging grin, but from the look on Jack’s face, they didn’t quite hit the mark. “I’m fine, Jack, promise.”

His tail had dropped, and his ears were pressed against his head. “...When I get worked up, going for a jog usually helps me. Gets all the energy out.”

They raised an eyebrow. “You and I both know that your jogging is my sprinting.”

“Then I’ll walk and you jog,” he grinned. “If you want to, that is.”

They paused before shrugging. “I probably won’t do a good job on the homework if I’m like this, anyway.”

Floyd: Don’t fall asleep. Don’t fall asleep. Crewel will turn you into a rug if he catches you falling asleep.

Their internal monologue was the only thing preventing them from passing out onto their desk. They had had a hard time falling asleep last night, and of course they were working on sleeping draughts in Alchemy today. The vapor wafting from the cauldron was enough to knock them out.

They hadn’t noticed that their eyes had closed until a hard knock on the classroom door startled them open. When Crewel called out for whoever it was to come in, the door opened to reveal Floyd.

“The Headmaster wants to see Shrimpy!” he sang, leaning against the doorframe. Crewel nodded, motioning with his pointed cane for the Prefect to get out.

Physically shaking themself awake, they stood. Next to them, Ace went “Oooooooh~”

“Trappola, just for that, you’re responsible for giving them the notes for the lesson.”

“Aw, come on!”

They didn’t even have the energy to stick their tongue out like they usually would. They just inched past all of the other students until they were at Floyd’s side. The merman casually slung an arm around their shoulder and steered them out of the classroom.

“What does the Headmaster want?” they asked. It could literally be anything, honestly.

“Oh, I lied!” Floyd giggled. “He doesn’t need to see you at all.”

“Huh?”

“You looked exhausted this morning,” Floyd tugged them closer. Not quite a squeeze, but there was something intensely protective in the embrace. “I figured you could use a nap.”

“So you busted me out of class?”

“Yup! This makes me your favorite, right?” he grinned, showing all of his teeth.

“Definitely.”

Epel: They always did have a nervous stomach.

There was a test in Trein’s class that day. No matter how much they studied the night before, they didn’t feel prepared, and their stomach was committing mutiny in response. They hadn’t been able to eat any breakfast, so now they were nauseated and hungry at the same time. They were either going to puke on the test or eat it, they hadn’t decided yet.

“Are you alright?”

They jumped. They had been so caught up in their own head that they hadn’t even heard Epel approach. “Hey. Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit of test anxiety, haha.”

Epel didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure? You look kinda pale.”

“Really, I’m fine. I was just a bit too nervous to eat breakfast.” they insisted.

“Well, that’s not good.” Epel frowned. “You’ll do even worse on the test if you’re hungry.”

Oh, why did he have to phrase it like that? Just the thought made their already roiling stomach turn, and they whined softly as they hugged themself around the middle.

“Ah, wait, I didn’t mean it like that!” he backtracked. “I just meant it won’t do you any good!”

Epel reached into his bag for a moment, mumbling to himself. “I know I have some in here...ah-ha!” he pulled out a bag of dried apple chips. “Here! It’s not exactly a full meal, but it’ll help. And they’re really light, so if you’re sick because of nerves, they won’t upset your stomach.”

“Are you sure?” they asked as Epel handed them the bag.

“Pos’tive.” he grinned. “I’ve got plenty back at the dorm. And Ma’s always sending me stuff from the farm anyway. So go ahead, I don’t want you passing out!”

Sebek: They had no idea what he was talking about.

It was a feat in and of itself to be able to not pay attention to Sebek. The man was a walking lightning bolt. But today was just not a good day, mentally.

A pity, too. They always liked walking around in the woods with Sebek. Something about being in nature and listening to him talk passionately about whatever was on his mind was almost soothing, but it just wasn’t working this time.

“Are you listening?”

They jumped when he said their name. They had gotten so sucked into their own head that they hadn’t noticed him turn his monologue into a conversation. “I’m sorry!”

“What are you sorry for? Is everything alright?” he looked them up and down with sharp amber eyes, scanning for anything that could present any danger. “Are you ill?”

“No, no, it’s not…” they sighed, shoulders slumping. “I didn’t sleep well last night. Nightmares.”

Bad dreams had been a problem before they arrived in Twisted Wonderland, but now they were really plaguing them. It made concentrating difficult, even on simple things such as a walk with their partner.

Sebek stepped in front of them, forcing them to stop in their tracks. His angular features were serious, thrown into deep contrast from the light of the sun setting between the leaves. He clasped both of their hands in his own, holding them tightly as he looked into their eyes.

“You needn’t worry about such things. I will not let anything harm you, even your own mind.” he squeezed their hands. “On my honor as a knight.”

Silver: Watching Silver train with a sword was...something else.

They could watch him all day, going after the training dummy like it was actually an enemy.

Well, usually, they could.

It had been another sleepless night, up worrying about all the various things they needed to do. They only managed to fall asleep around four AM, and they needed to be at their first class by eight, so they hadn’t exactly gotten well-rested. They were impressed that they had managed to stay awake during their lessons, but now it was catching up to them.

The warm sun shining on their face and the rhythmic swishing of Silver’s practice sword was vaguely soothing, and before they really knew it they had slumped against the tree they were sitting under, fast asleep.

When they awoke, they were moving. It took a minute to gather themself, and they blinked sleepily at their surroundings.

“You can go back to sleep.” Silver’s voice rumbled against their side. He was carrying them. “We aren’t that far from Ramshackle.”

“...You could have woken me up.” they mumbled, nuzzled closer to his chest. “I would have walked.”

“You looked so peaceful.” he responded, adjusting his grip. “Unless you want me to put you down?”

“No.” they sighed. “This is nice. Me and Grim are always saying that it takes forever to get to Ramshackle from anywhere in the school, I’ll take the ride.”

Silver chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to their forehead. “Go to sleep.”

[lovelyelbowleech]

hello!! hair anon here!! sorry for the late comment—had what the kids call a “bad brain day” except it was like a week (and also it’s my whole life it was just worse than normal the last few days lol). but i read the new chapter!!! and i LOVED it!!! which is unsurprising bc i always love them lmao but still. ❤️

anyways, the chapter: god, it never fails to amaze me just how well you’re able to capture sokka’s voice. and actions! his internal monologue as he snuck through the fortress read like it could have come directly from an actual episode of the show. i’m also stanning suki’s confusion over zuko and whether or not li is aang (I’m fully just imagining her thinking back to the kids on kysohi as she is Actively escaping, comparing their growth the “aang”’s growth, and being like, “…… yeah i’m pretty sure kids don’t grow That fast????? nor do their voices drop that much that quickly?? and i could be wrong, but i haven’t been away from kyoshi for that long, i *think*??” and just like OBSESSING over this internally as she is actively beating up guards and trying to escape, but just rolling with it bc regardless of whether or not the blue spirit is aang an escape is an escape lol). also stanning suki in general. <3 also stanning the countdown to zuko getting a new one torn by suki which it reads like is reaching its final seconds. NOT stanning the shen realization which is presumably about to happen. like hopefully it works out but i’m very scared for zuko’s sake 😬

thank you so much for sharing this, again!! i’m so glad my long-ass comments bring you joy—i hope they bring you even the smallest amount of joy your story brings, because that would be so, so, so much joy 💖💖💖 I hope you’re having a wonderful day and/or night, and that you’re staying safe and (at least relatively) sane in our scary world, lol. i’m vERy excited for the next chapter and will be waiting for it eagerly, patiently, and respectfully 😚💖

also, HAPPY PRIDE!!!!! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜 💙💜💗 ❤️🧡🤍💗💜 (the gay and bi flags are for zuko and sokka, the lesbian flag is for me cheering them on 🎉)

Your comments do indeed bring me much joy! I hope your week has improved! Sorry for the late reply, work has me too tired to do thinking, lol.

Glad you are looking forward to the upcoming Suki and Zuko 'discussions' I like the dynamic between suki and both the boys, so these next couple of chapters have been very fun to write. (technically, its one chapter, but it got too long, so i'm going to chop it up again)

Happy Pride! and I hope your next week is better than this past one has been!

[itsthemoofacewriting]

The very first night

This is for the SaNa Day Gift Exchange event me and ray are running over at @sanamievents! I love the film ‘Hitch’ and the moment I saw the prompt ‘blind date on valentines’, I couldn’t not do this (also, hands down one of the best romcoms). Besides, with speed dating you don’t know who you’ll see that evening, so although I’ve stretched it slightly, it’s technically not cheating?

This is for my lovely giftee, @yumedarling!

Summary: Speed dating was not Nami’s idea of fun but she was there to make sure Robin would be okay. Which was why she was blindsided by the smooth talking, suit wearing chef sat opposite her. Rating: T

This can also be found on AO3 and FFN. 

Enjoy! 

In all honesty, Valentine’s Day wasn’t something Nami gave a lot of thought to. Sure, she’d spent it with people before and she wouldn’t say no to the attention lathered on her from her partner at the time but she also didn’t lose sleep about being single on the day and staying home by herself.

Hence why she wasn’t thrilled about this arrangement.

“It’ll be fun,” Robin said, smiling patiently.

She wouldn’t be saying that later when they had bags over their heads and trapped in some random guy’s basement.

Okay, fine, she was being dramatic and maybe a bit mean, she knew that, which was why she kept the sarcastic thought to herself. Robin actually seemed a bit excited, she knew the older woman didn’t have the chance to date much growing up and she didn’t want to put a damper on that.

So instead, she nodded, trying to seem positive and like she wasn’t here just to make sure nothing bad happened to Robin.

In her own head though, it just seemed desperate and if it wasn’t for her best friend asking her to come with her, she would never willingly attend. She didn’t even know why Robin wanted to in all honesty, she was attractive, had plenty of men falling over their feet for her but instead she wanted to spend her Valentine’s night in a worn-down youth centre with a conveyor belt of questionable men asking the same questions, over and over again. Although she could hardly judge the men when they were both there too.  

It didn’t improve when they arrived to thirty tables lined up in rows of two, woman already seated and men standing off to the side, waiting for begin. She scrunched her nose, they looked like a pack of hyena’s. It didn’t help that the last two tables free weren’t sat next to one another. That was what she got for dragging her feet and making them late.

“Just signal if you need help,” Nami whispered, throwing an apologetic look to the women seated as they made their way closer to the tables.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

They gave their parting words and split apart, Robin in the second isle at the top and Nami in the first in the middle. At least she could keep an eye on Robin this way.

“If I could have everyone’s attention,” the room feel silent as the host started to speak, cutting through the nervous energy in the room. “I’ll go over how the evening it going to work. The women will stay seated the whole time and the men will move to their left. You’ll have two minutes to talk and as soon as you hear the gong, your times up and the men will move onto the next table. Don’t fret though, if you met someone, we’ll have a half an hour session at the end so you can chat more and exchange phone numbers if both parties want to. Any questions?”

The room stared back at him.

“In which case, let’s get started.”

.

.

.

Nami was bored.

And this had been exactly what she’d expected leading up to the night. The attention was nice, don’t get her wrong, but how many times could she answer the same questions and listen to the same monologue from different men without her mind drifting?

She was only on the seventh man and not one of them had been worth remembering.

So far, she’d had quite a broad selection of men before her, ranging from too nervous, trying too hard, too dull or, the one before her was too cocky. He was telling her about his business that she hadn’t asked about and she’d never welcomed the sound of the gong more than she had in that moment. He stood and arrogantly told her he’d see her later. Clearly no one had told him that that there was such a thing as too much confidence.

Well, it’s not like she’d be sticking around once this was done. Only twenty-three more men to go.

Everyone there was dressed up to a certain degree, women in dresses, men in pressed shirts and trousers, maybe a tie. The man about to sit down before her put them all to shame; tailored trousers, tie, crisp white shirt covered by a navy double breasted suit. He didn’t look stuffy though, he looked comfortable and she wondered if that meant he worse suits often. Regardless, she could respect a well-dressed man. And it maybe didn’t hurt that it was paired with the bluest eyes she’d ever seen and trimmed facial hair.

“Hi, I’m Sanji,” he introduced himself as he sat down opposite her and if her eyes didn’t deceive her, he just given her a very obvious once over too.

“I’m Nami.”

“How’s your evening so far?”

Nevermind, he was going to be like just the others. ‘How’re you?’, ‘You’re gorgeous’, ‘You’re beautiful’, ‘What do you do for fun?’, ‘What do you do for work?’

Maybe she could signal to Robin to save her?

“It’s good, yours?” She answered patiently, ready for the routine.

“Getting better.” He smiled at her, eyes unwavering as he met her gaze and it was obvious what he meant. Subtle and not too cheesy, a fine line he was playing with and it shouldn’t have worked on her as much as it did. She wondered if he would be a smooth talker like some of the others.

“What’s your favourite food?”

She blinked, not expecting the U-turn but he didn’t look smug about it though, he waited for her to answer patiently.

“I love oranges.”

He didn’t give her the chance to ask anything back, going in with a follow up question. “What’s your favourite dish?”

Was he going to play twenty questions with her? It’d certainly mix up the pacing at least.

“There’s a difference?” She asked, eyebrow raised.

“Not always, but sometimes it’s different or an extension of their favourite food.” He seemed confident but he the way he played with his fingers made her question that.

“Roasted duck and orange sauce.”

“So, orange related?” Not judgemental but curious.

“I grew up on an orange orchard when I was a child, so I guess that’s where it comes from.” And so organically, she was opening up instead of him having to pry it out of her with forced, stilted questions like all the others. He was good. “What about you?”

“Hm?”

“What’s your favourite food?”

“I like a spicy seafood pasta, although I’m a chef, so I prefer making the food.”

Hm, well the food related questions made a little more sense. “Okay then, favourite dish to prepare?”

And his face lit up at the question. He’d been very polite and composed up until now but he became more animated by the second and it was so different from the men before him. He told her about the first meal he’d ever cooked by himself when he was young, the meal he cooked for his dad and why he loved cooking that one in particular. Although he was talking a lot, it was peppered with fun stories and it wasn’t to brag or because he liked the sound of his own voice, he was showing her a piece of him and one that really loved cooking. She found herself leaning forward, engaged and asking follow up questions or laughing along with him. She’d relaxed.

The cheap, tacky sound of the gong went off and for the first time that evening, it was too soon. She wasn’t relieved to hear it like she had been before, she felt frustrated that those two minutes were gone and she found herself disappointed as the man at the table next to her stood to take Sanji’s seat.

Except, Sanji didn’t look like he was moving.

“Would you mind if I stayed a little longer?” He asked, eyes on her, not interested in the irritated man huffing and puffing next to him. He’d asked politely, face trying not to give anything away so she wasn’t pressured but she could see it. Beneath it, he looked nervous, like this was make or break and it was again, another side to him that she hadn’t expected. It was rather flattering.

He wanted to stay and if she were being honest with herself, she wanted him to stay too.

She couldn’t go back to boring standard questions. His were obviously trying to get to know her, like all the others, but they were fun, kept her on her toes. It wasn’t just him firing questions and her responding, or him doing all the talking, it was genuinely a conversation.

“Not at all.”

He looked relieved at her words, his shoulders relaxing and the smile he gave her was worth it all. His smile stretched to his eyes and she wanted to see it again.

“You heard the lady,” Sanji took his eyes off her to face the other man, and although the words could have sounded smug, they didn’t coming from him.

It was still apparently the wrong thing to say as the words grated on the man waiting, regardless of the tone.

“Listen man, I’ve been waiting to speak to her. You heard what the host said at the beginning, after two minutes you move on.”

As much as this may be stroking her ego, she wasn’t interested right now, she was aware that she was on borrowed time. Afterall, she had no idea how long they’d let Sanji stay seated with her when they finally twigged it and ushered him along.

Leaning forward, she gained both of their attention before Sanji could respond and in her most innocent voice asked, “Would you mind humouring me? It can be our little secret?” She finished with a wink, the words rolling off her tongue with practiced ease.

Hook, line and sinker.

With round eyes, he nodded, wordlessly moving on to the next table like he was hypnotised. A bit of cleavage, innocence with a hint of something more and they were eating out of the palm of her hand. Men were so easy.

She almost laughed when she turned back to Sanji and he had a matching expression.

He swallowed and tried to compose himself as best as he could. “That wasn’t even directed at me and I’m dazzled,” he told her honestly.

“Good to know it works on you too-” the pink on his cheeks extended her teasing grin, “-but I can’t have you too dazzled, we have another two minutes to go.”

“I’ll try to multi-task then.” Her teasing grin softened and God, when had she been a sap for soft words? “Do you enjoy cooking?”

And they were off again. Nami was telling him that she did, probably not on the same level as him, but she had enough recipes she enjoyed making and the whole time, she had his undivided attention.

Really, he wasn’t doing anything that different from the others before him. He was just smoother without being forced. It was almost as easy as breathing talking with him, he’d ask her questions and hung on her every word as she answered. Their conversation flowed naturally, from one topic to the next and it got to a point where no one would bother interrupting them anymore. The gong would go off, Sanji wouldn’t move and she wouldn’t say anything, nor did she have to charm any more men into leaving them be.

She was telling a story about how she’d been kicked out of her favourite supermarket in the city because her best friend had convinced her it was a great idea at the time to see how quickly they could finish shopping if she was in the trolley and he was running her down the aisles. Sanji had only interrupted her as soon as she’d said his name.

“Did you say Luffy, as in Monkey D. Luffy?”

“Yeah, do you know him?” Which wouldn’t surprise her, everyone knew Luffy.  

“I met in a little while ago, he comes into the restaurant all the time!”

Nami snorted. “Of course he does. He’s a bottomless hole for food. Although if he’s coming back for your food, that’s the highest compliment he could ever give.”

He smiled boyishly at her, clearly pleased with the compliment. “He’s one of my favourite people to feed. He eats whatever he’s given and appreciates food. Although, maybe don’t tell him that.”

“Your secret’s safe with me. Has he tried paying with an IOU yet?”

“Tried it the first time and ended up washing the dishes,” he deadpanned before smiling at her to let her know he was more amused than anything.

She shook her head. “Of course Luffy befriended a chef! That’s so like him. Tell me, how often does he pester you to cook for him?”

“The worst part was telling him where I live.”

She giggled, already imagining him hammering on the door excitedly or climbing through the window if he couldn’t be bothered with formalities. Sanji joined her though and she wished she could see what was going through his head.

“You think you’ve locked all the doors, yet he always finds a way in, right?”

“I’m pretty sure he knows I don’t really mind, no matter what I say or do.”

“You still have to pretend though, otherwise he’ll only get worse!” Sanji nodded sagely, as if taking her pearls of wisdom seriously and storing them aware for later. “So if you know Luffy, you must know Zoro, right?”

He looked at her blankly for a second.

“Green hair, scar over one of his eyes?”

Recognition flashed in his eyes and he paused, as if deliberating what he was going to say next before settling on a tight answer. “Yeah, I know him.”

He said it like he was trying to hold himself back and then it clicked why. He didn’t like Zoro. Which looking at him, made sense. She knew Zoro well, he was gruff, looked grumpy most of the time and knew for a fact, he had worn a t-shirt for a week straight without washing it. A stark contrast from the man sitting opposite her, who was well groomed, well-mannered and dressed exceptionally. No wonder they clashed when meeting, she only wished she’d been there to see it.

“Don’t pretend to like him on my account, he’s my best friend and we don’t always see eye to eye.” She thought about her much they bickered, even if they met at the same time as her and Luffy.

Sanji looked serious as he offered, “If he ever crosses you say the word and I’ll kick his arse.”

Interesting, maybe not as well-mannered as she’d initially thought but she supposed that made sense if he was friends with Luffy. She didn’t mind it though.

She gave a short, sharp laugh. “I have a mean right hook, so you won’t have to defend my honour anytime soon.”

He didn’t look put off by that information, which was a pleasant surprise.

“Oh really?”

“That’s why I’m here. My friend wanted to come and I couldn’t leave her by herself.”

“Because it felt like throwing her to a pack of hungry wolves?” He asked, amused.

“Exactly!” She agreed, glad he wasn’t offended. It seemed he didn’t count himself in with the others.

“Which one is she?”

“Over there, with the long black hair.”

She was pointing to the other side of the room and he leaned over the table to follow the direction of her finger. She tried not to stare at him, instead seeing if she could catch her friend’s eye. He smelled nice though, whatever perfume he had on suited him and there was a hint of smokiness beneath it. She wondered if he smoked? She hadn’t smelled it on his breath.

Robin saw them both then, raising an eyebrow at the both of them looking and the smile on her face told Nami she’d be teased later.

“How did you meet?” He asked, drawing her attention back on him.

She told him about her time at university, how her and Robin had been roommates in her first year before living together for a little while even after Robin had graduated and how she’d met Chopper there too.

“That’s how Robin and Chopper joined me, Luffy and Zoro. Although it’s less joining and more Luffy forcing people to be his friend- but you know how that goes.”

The gong went off again and people shuffled around the hall to find their next seats. She’d lost count of how far they were in anymore.

“So how come I’ve never seen you around when Luffy and Marimo come by the restaurant?”

She huffed a laugh at Zoro’s nickname, knowing she’d store that away for later if she needed it.

“You normally see Luffy during the week, right?” She’d better be right, Luffy had never invited her to where Sanji worked. Maybe they could’ve been doing this sooner if he had.

“Huh, I never realised it but yeah I do.”

“I don’t work on the weekends, so when I’m not at work him and Zoro are normally invading my home.” As well as trashing the place and drinking all her beers. “But with you as a friend now, I’m off cooking duty.”

“He makes you cook for him?” He looked serious again and she realised may have been serious earlier about kicking Zoro’s arse. Chivalry wasn’t dead, it seemed, or at least not with him.

“It’s normally when I’m cooking for myself, so I just make more. Don’t worry, I charge him for it.” She winked playfully at the end of her sentence at him.

“As you should, he has the most beautiful women cooking for him, he’s the luckiest man alive.” It was the first time he’d commented on her looks tonight and after getting to know him better, all the previous compliments she’d received paled in comparison.

Although it did bring back that niggling voice in the back of her head that reminded her that he was good a this. A bit too good. A bit too smooth. And although he’d spent his evening with her, with no signs of his attention flagging, she still had to ask.

“You seem quite good at this; do you do this often?” She kept her tone casual but eyed his reaction.

It caught him off guard, she could almost see the cogs in his brain working as fast as they could, desperate to do damage control before he’d even said anything. She bit down on the grin she could feel pulling at her cheeks.

“No- I mean yes- but not like that!” He tripped over his words, growing flustered.

She almost felt a little mean but it was refreshing to see another side of him that was less composed.

“I suppose I’m a bit of a romantic,” he admitted. “Not that I sleep around or go on lots of dates or anything, I’m not that type of man. It’s more about trying to find the right woman, so I suppose I come to these sorts of events.” He played with his hands nervously, he hadn’t done that since he’d first sat down. “I saw you come in and I knew I needed to make a good first impression because I wanted to get to know you. It probably wasn’t fair to the women before you, I wasn’t exactly giving them my full attention.”

He'd laid himself bare, not a hint of deception on his face and she threw him a bone after such honesty. “That was a good answer.”

The relief flooded onto his face and for the umpteenth time that evening, she thought about how much she liked his smile. She’d be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t won over by the man sitting opposite her.

The final gong chimed to let everyone know the evening was coming to a close. People left their seats, moving to leave or to catch someone they might have been interested in, yet they stayed where they were.

“I know I said I wanted to speak with you when you walked in but I couldn’t have imagined I’d have the pleasure of spending the whole evening with you.”

There were butterflies fluttering in her stomach and she almost cursed herself for feeling like a school girl. “You exceeded my expectations; I was on the verge of signalling to my friend and I was here to rescue her.”

He looked indecisive for a moment, before finally asking, “Would it be okay if I asked for your number?”

And for the second time that evening, she saw his nerves creep back in. He was such an interesting mix but it seemed regardless of the fact she’d spent her whole evening talking and laughing with him, he doubted himself when truly putting himself out there. She wondered where that came from.

“Yeah, you can ask.”

How was she going to live this down when she was so against coming here but was leaving with the number of the man she’d spent her whole evening with?

“Would you do me the honour of giving me your number?”

The laugh tumbled out, of course he’d ask like that. He was smooth, confident, attentive, a bit unsure under the surface but ultimately, he was also a bit of a dork. And she liked that apparently.  

She nodded.

His hand slipped into his pocket, pulling out a mobile to hand over to her and for the first time that evening, they were quiet as she typed her number in, double checking it was correct. She felt like a teenager again. When she handed it back, he made it look like she’d handed him a winning lottery ticket and well, if that didn’t feel good, she didn’t know what would.

When his phone was back safely in his suit pocket, she thought that would be it, left to awkwardly say goodbye with the promise of him texting her but the breath left her lungs as he reached for her hand, lifting it with his head tilted to brush his lips against her fingers. Electricity shot from her hand, up her arm and left a pleasant tingle as her cheeks warmed under the attention. It was like something from the movies, she didn’t think that happened in real life.

His lips lingered before pulling away, his breath warm along her skin and goosebumps lined her arms. He didn’t drop her hand though. “Hopefully I’ll see you soon?”

She nodded, for once speechless, the words lost on her.

With one last look at her, lingering over her face like he was memorising it, he turned to walk towards the door. She watched him go, still stunned and just as he was about to leave, he looked over his should at her once again, beaming and giving her a small wave.

Good grief, had she just been dazzled?

Robin was making her way over then, expression promising nothing but an embarrassing conversation and red cheeks for herself.

Her phone buzzed to momentarily distract herself from her fate-

Hi, it’s Sanji. I had a really good time, is it too early to ask when you’re free? x

-she grinned down at her phone.

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

I just want to say a massive thank you to Ray for helping me put together this event and to our ever-growing discord of lovely people who joined us!

If you’d like to join our sannami discord, you can do so by clicking here. (Might be worth doing as I’m sure there’ll be some more events coming up later in the year. Hint, hint, nudge, nudge)

As always, please excuse any errors.

Thanks for reading.

[kumapillow]

Psycho-Pass Radio CID 24 Hours a Day: Mandatory Happiness #03 Learning Crime Prevention Measures with Komissa-chan [24H]

Here’s a translated summary of the third audio drama from the Mandatory Happiness web radio, a.k.a. the mandatory Komissa PR program episode per season.

Read after the cut. I hope you enjoy 😀

(I also opted to post the audio for this since Tsurugi and Kou imitating Komissa-chan’s voice sound ridiculous lol)

—x—

Tsurugi (monologue): "Psycho-Pass is the indicator of a happy life." That has become an accepted truth, and with it a lot of things have changed.

     Crime prevention is one of them. Before, "crime prevention" meant taking measures in order to steer clear of crime. But in this day and age where the Sibyl System is in operation, the crime rate is virtually zero. Because of this, the meaning of "crime prevention" has also changed. Now...

Tsurugi and Kougami have been assigned to present a kid-friendly crime prevention program. Tsurugi expresses his surprise at this, and Kougami comments that it's probably the PR department's doing again; apparently they always seem to request for CID Division 1 whenever there's an event where Komissa is slated to appear. Tsurugi says this kind of task is more suited to Akane or Kagari, but Kougami mentions they're busy with another case, so it's up to the two of them.

Tsurugi: Oh, yeah, Gino-san mentioned that you're the Komissa pro, 'Gami-san... Kougami: What kind of nonsense is that guy telling now...      Whatever, this is also part of the job. We gotta work for our paychecks.

Kougami then asks for tomorrow's script, so Tsurugi brings it up. Kougami's really not up to it, but decides they should at least see what's in it. Tsurugi reads the program's title:

Crime Prevention Quiz with Komissa-chan! Which of these keeps your Hue clear?

He gets confused at this, asking if what they're doing isn't a crime prevention program after all, and Kougami answers that crime prevention in the PSB's definition is preventing people from becoming latent criminals, so the program's content isn't technically wrong. Tsurugi thinks about it and agrees; if someone is thinking of some crime like burglary, their crime coefficient will have increased and they probably won't be able to freely walk outside. Kougami says that the premise in their society now is that crime doesn't and won't occur, which means that crime prevention nowadays means thinking of oneself not as a possible victim but a perpetrator, so it's become important to take preventive steps from becoming a latent criminal. Even though in reality, crime does still occur.

Tsurugi then comments that's just turning a blind eye to what's happening, and he doesn't particularly like it, but if that's what the government is saying, then so be it; with Kougami adding that them hounds just have to follow along with their owners' whims. He then urges the junior Enforcer to continue reading.

Tsurugi: Umm... (imitates Komissa voice)     Question no. 1: "Early to bed, early to rise" is one of the first steps to have a clear Hue. But one night before a rest day, you carelessly stayed up late. What will you do? Kougami: (imitates Komissa voice)     A. Wake up at the usual time, and sleep at the usual time later.     B. It's okay to oversleep.     C. Wake up at the usual time, and sleep earlier later.

Tsurugi says it's probably okay to oversleep if it's a rest day, but Kougami disagrees, noting that since they're talking about keeping your Hue clear, then A is the correct answer because keeping your habits is one of the basics in mental care. Tsurugi isn't convinced, saying it's also important to loosen up a little, and it's difficult for a child to be sleep-deprived, so Kougami thinks maybe it's C, since sleeping earlier next time will make up for staying up late.

They then look up the answer: All choices are correct! (Tsurugi: What the hell?!)

Kougami reads the explanation: "A is correct because it's good to keep your regular habits. B is correct because it's good to keep yourself well-rested. But let's make sure to sleep at the usual time later. C is correct because it's good to wake up early. We should make up for the lack of sleep by going to bed earlier later."

Tsurugi then continues reading, that in case they're not sure what to do, they should consult their home secretary AI that monitors their condition, which will surely give them a good answer. Kougami then notes that a commercial for one of the sponsors is going to play right after, a company called Paradise Shift which specializes in creating home secretary AIs.

They proceed with the next question.

Kougami: (imitates Komissa voice)     Does everyone here eat their food without being picky? Enjoying different flavors and tastes is good for your Hue. Tsurugi: Hm, yeah, that's true. Kougami: (continues in Komissa voice) But if there is something in your meal which you don't really like, what do you do? Tsurugi: (imitates Komissa voice)     A. Eat it without leaving anything.     B. It's okay to not eat it.     C. Add some flavors to it that you like and eat it.

Tsurugi chooses C, saying that if you're gonna eat it anyway, at least make sure it'll taste good. Kougami disagrees, choosing A, adding that the hint is there in the topic (enjoying different flavors is good for your Hue). Tsurugi counters that that would only make them feel unpleasant.

Looking at the answer: All choices are correct! (Kougami: Wha-! Again?!)

Checking the explanation, Tsurugi relays that A and C are correct based on what the two of them surmised, and B is also correct since "the nutrition content of Hyper Oats-based products can be adjusted, so leaving food you don't like will not have a bad effect on your health."

Kougami continues reading, that auto-servers can always make food to your liking, and can also help you get used to tastes you don't like. Then another commercial is going to play, this time for Gusto, a company that makes premium auto-servers.

Tsurugi: Hey, 'Gami-san, isn't this program just a— Kougami: Don't say it. Tsurugi: But look at the next questions: "Who do you consult when you get into a fight with a friend?", then, "When is a good time to stop and take meds when you're depressed?" Kougami: All of that is relevant to mental care. Tsurugi: Then, commercials for a counselling employment agency and a pharmaceutical company come right after! Kougami: All of that is relevant to mental care. Tsurugi: This program is just one huge commercial! And it just basically tells you to rely on Sibyl for everything! Is this really ok?! Kougami: It's fine, right? We don't really have the right to say anything about it. In this world, to abide by the Sibyl System is the right thing to do. Tsurugi: Man...is it really wrong to feel strange about all of this...? Kougami: Don't worry, I feel the same way. But that's precisely the reason why we became latent criminals.

(both sigh deeply)

(end)

[thespineoftherighteous]

when it comes to studying and school in general, aaron, kevin and Dan are the most intense and thus: headcannons

the reason that they put more effort in their studies than the other foxes varies between them:

kevin is a borderline perfectionist and it only makes sense that his grades are immaculate

aaron is really smart and dives into his studies because for one he enjoys it and for another he likes having something that he is in control of

dan never cared too much about grades in high school (exy was the only important thing) but when wymack gave her psu as a ticket out of her old life, she swore to herself that she wouldn't waste it and she's not about to lose her foxes by throwing her scholarship away

they study together a lot because it helps them get into a productive mindset and they're also good with helping each other out in different subjects of their core classes

aaron is the designated science boy (the likes of which i will never understand but it's aaron so I'll let it slide) and I'm pretty sure it's canon that kevin studies history and it is my belief that dan is really good at writing and English in general

they usually hold their study sessions in either their claimed corner in the library or in aarons room

matt has learned by now to stay out of their way and he usually either reads on the couch or goes to play video games with neil and nicky ("you could study yourself you know" *he just smiles sweetly at dan and blows her a kiss*)

when aaron has to write a paper, it's common to find his drafts littered with kevin's "constructive criticism" (he insists on using a red pen because he's a prentitious ass) and dan's more practical corrections

dan has a complicated relationship with chemistry but finds aarons explanations far easier to understand than her dipshit professors

he ends up teaching her like half the course but he doesn't mind because he likes chemistry and he likes the feeling of explaining things and he won't admit it because he is also an ass but he likes dan because she's smart and she's willing to work hard and he respects that

kevin is appalled the first time he sees dans notes because she only writes in pen and has no problem scribbling things out which sCANDalizes kevin who will rewrite his notes three times if necessary because he can't study from them unless they're neat

during midterms and finals, their sessions become more chaotic and it's not uncommon to see them drowning in a sea of books, papers and writing utensils

once during an exam period, kevin spent five minutes looking for his highlighter before dan just silently pointed to her ear and he found it tucked behind his

aaron gets annoyed when kevin and dan don't ease off practices around exams and brings it up every time one of them so much as sighs about their workload (kevin: *groans* Aaron: well you know you wouldn't be so- kevin: give it uP aaron we have to WIN dan: boys, shut UP *they both glare at her* dan: thank you! now aaron what does this mean...)

they all have certain habits that they subconsciously do when studying: aaron puts his pen between his teeth when he's reading and bites on it when he's thinking, dan plays with the corner of the page and pulls at her hair when she's frustrated with a problem, kevin's fingers are always tapping and he clicks his pen quickly right before he figures out a concept (the pen clicking doesn't bother aaron or dan but if one of them so much as clicks their pen twice, kevin looks murderous)

eventually they become familiar with the others systems and don't even use full sentences when they need things from each other.. matt is very confused the first time he hears a conversation between the three of them that consisted of exactly eight words

they know each other's dunkin orders and at least once a session one of them will grab their phone to send a text and fifteen minutes later one of the foxes or katelyn shows up to drop off lattes and espressos

also, sometimes matt will find them hours after he left them and just be like "guys, stop. eat something" and they'll look up with eyes burning from the books and blink at him and holy shit when did it get so late

they have a group chat ("only because it's convenient" "shut up aaron")

they ask each other how their exams/quizzes/assignments in general went, especially when two of them know the other was stressed about it

this leads to kevin going on a twenty minute rant on the incompetence of dan's history teacher when he gives her a B on an assignment kevin helped her with

dan and aaron find his indignation amusing, particularly because kevin seemed more upset than dan herself

during exam periods, sometimes some of the other foxes will join them and, though they won't admit it, kevin, dan and aaron will roll their eyes at each other every time someone interrupts their flow because clearly they don't understand the way this works

all the foxes do study together every so often tho..not the way the other three do but more like they all just gravitate to the same room and are spread out everywhere with their own books

on days like this, once their backs hurt and their brains are stuffed, they'll order in and spend the rest of the night trying to get dan (and kevin) to cancel practice

it never works

one time it worked

well, technically kevin had fallen asleep as soon as the food came and so convincing dan was easier

nicky thinks that the dramatic monologue he performed to dan was what swayed her (he was right)

so they leave kevin on the couch (renee put a blanket over him) and move the food to the girls room so they don't wake him

he woke up twenty minutes after they were supposed to be on the court, understood what happened immediately and stomped over to the girls room, hair sticking up every which way

he walks in to find them all eating and playing cards and when he glares at them they just shoot him bright smiles and "good morning kevin" "why hello there sunshine" remarks

for once he decides not to fight it and their mouths drop when he just shuts the door (still glaring) and moves toward the food

"you should be disappointed in yourself," he grumbles at dan as he reaches past her for one of the cartons

"what can I say," she says around a mouthful of noodles "they're persuasive"

"real strong will you got there, captain"

"fine, we'll do extra sprints next practice to make up for it, how's that?"

the others all groan and kevin grins at that and finally relaxes and allows himself to unwind for the rest of the evening

they never really acknowledge it but they all enjoy these slower moments where they can be just regular boring university kids with their friends

anyway dan, aaron and Kevin are study buddies

[stansamwilson]

Sambucky headcannon time road trip edition!

Where are they going? That doesn’t matter because they’re just going to have a nice relaxing road trip.

Until Bucky looses his wallet, they get a flat tire and a new cat and the gps leads them to the woods and says “you have arrived” while they’re on an old abandoned path. (True story)

But before all of that happened they had some fun on the way!

Hour one:

Sam isn’t driving because he won Rock Paper Scissors and now he’s in charge of the music. (Spoiler alert it’s mostly Marvin Gaye)

Sam: You know what, let’s play I spy

Bucky: Sam we’re not 5

Sam: Come on Buck, I’m bored and I know you don’t want another Marvin Gaye marathon.

Bucky: I like Marvin Gaye, Sam!

Sam: Whatever you say.

Bucky: Fine. I spy with my little eye… something beautiful

Sam: … Is it that obnoxiously large poodle?

Bucky: No

Sam: Is it that mural on the side of the building?

Bucky: Nope

Sam: Alright I give up. What was it?

Bucky: It was you Sammy.

Sam: that was… very corny

Sam: but very sweet

Hour two:

Sam fell asleep listening to Bucky talk about his new favorite show and now Bucky is thinking out loud about him being deeply in love with Sam. Meanwhile Sam woke up when he was in the middle of his external monologue and heard pretty much everything.

They stopped to get gas and find an adorable stray cat roaming around.

They left pretty late so now it’s almost night. They plan on going to a hotel that’s 5 minutes away.

At the hotel:

When they got there Bucky kept asking him questions about adopting a cat. (Weird right?)

Sam took all of the little lotions and soaps. Bucky thinks that’s illegal but Sam reassured him it’s not. (Bucky still doesn’t believe him but he doesn’t care about that right now)

When they went to bed they cuddle but Sam ended up pushing Bucky off the bed in his sleep.

Back on the road:

Right before the set off to go to wherever they’re going, they go to a small cafe to pick up some breakfast ( the hotel was shit and it wasn’t even free)

At the cafe, the cashier starts to flirt with Sam because who wouldn’t, but Bucky is having none of that. He keeps close to Sam while he’s talking to the cashier and gives him small kisses just to spite the guy.

When they get their food, Sam gets his coffee with a phone number written on it. He only texted the cashier to tell him that he was in a relationship but Bucky was still very jealous.

Hour one (technically hour three but whatever):

They’re about 20 minutes away from the hotel and 15 minutes away from the cafe when shit hits the fan.

Bucky realizes that he left his wallet at the cafe and they go back to get it. But only come to find that his wallet was STOLEN! Bucky blames the cashier but keeps to himself.

But it’s fine! Maybe some kind hearted samaritan will sent it back to him in the mail.

Now they’re definitely back on the road!

Everything seems to go smoothly with Sam now driving and Bucky listening to him talk about something. It’s when sam is really starting to get into the topic when they hear a tiny meow.

Sam: What was that?

Bucky: *sweats nervously* I don’t know what you’re talking about

Sam: You know exactly what I’m talking about Buck. Did you take that cat from the gas’s station!

Bucky: Maybe, maybe not.

Sam: How are we gonna take care of a cat on a road trip?

Bucky: Don’t worry Sammy I’ll take care of Figaro.

Sam: You named her?!

Bucky: Of course I named her!

Sam: Buck, I love you, you know I do, but we already have a cat and she probably doesn’t want us to to have our attention on another cat

Bucky: I love you too Sammy, and I assure you were completely capable of taking care of two cats.

Sam: You know what I’m trusting you with this but if our cats end up killing each other I will kill you.

Bucky: That’s fair.

Hour two/four:

Now they’re in the countryside and there are just trees. Trees everywhere.

The GPS says that they’re only 10 minutes away from their destination and they are nowhere close to where they’re supposed to be. They’re just in the woods.

Sam: Uh, this isn’t where we’re supposed to be right now.

Bucky: Huh. Maybe the GPS predicted the time wrong

Sam: Yeah that’s probably it.

The GPS: You have arrived!

Bucky: Uh oh

Sam: What does it mean we’ve arrived? We’re in the middle of the fucking woods.

Bucky: I guess we’re lost now!

Just as Bucky says this they’re a loud popping noise. Almost as if a tire went flat. Because that’s exactly what happened. Their car now has a flat tire.

They both groan out of annoyance.

They’re lost in the woods with a flat tire and a loud ass cat in the backseat.

What will the unlucky couple do now?

Stay tuned to find out what happens to Sam and Bucky in the next Sambucky headcannon time road trip edition!