#the impression i get is that it gave them a false impression of cats because they are anthropomorphized

[choppedcowboydinosaur]

I always wondered if the Warrior Cats franchise has ever contributed to cat owners allowing their cats to roam free and kill birds?

[flatoutin-eaurouge]

The stable boy to your horseman 1/2

Pairing: Mika Häkkinen x Michael Schumacher

@schumi-honey, @hakkineninen and I were cooking in the discord. I got a little too excited and had to split the fic in half. There will be a part 2... a little more romantic 🤭

(Photo cred.)

He stood in front of him with a big radiant smile, his hand caressing the mane of Michael's horse. His resumé was well-nigh blank, but the boy with all his innocence, had written a motivation letter in mostly broken English, containing a list of all the pets he owned, used to own or dreamed of owning. Ranging from "just" cats and dogs to rodents to reptiles to insects. Very irrelevant for the job, but very endearing all the more.

Michael wondered how the young man had ended up inside his stables. Maybe he shouldn't have invited his mother to help him interview the applicants. She was known to be prone to fall for boyish naivity and innocent charm. All other candidates were very experienced, fluent in English, quite a few years older than Michael, but they all had - according to Mrs. Schumacher - an air of misplaced arrogance.

"Horses don't like that, Michael! They know a bragger when they smell one."

Michael had foiled through the resumés and stared at the photo of the only outlier in the range of applicants. A boy with a thick Northern-European accent, big blue eyes and a mop of blonde neatly combed hair. A school boy dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. Now what...

"In what world is this a good idea?"

"You can learn everything. However, what you can't learn is 'reading' horses and calming them. Some people have an instinct for it."

Michael scrutinized the boy, taking him in from head to toe. The frolicsome appereance of the man made Michael feel a little bit skeptic towards him. This was a very serious job in a very serious sport. You can't come here to cuddle with the horses and all the other animals that had caught the Finn's eyes on their way to the stables a few minutes ago.

"So, is that how you do it? Charm your way in? Used to get what you want because of the way you look and act?" Michael waved Mika's resumé in front of his big blue eyes.

Mika was suprised to hear the skepticism in Michael's voice. The Finn challenged him with a look as his eyes twinkled with mischief. "You kept it? It's basically a  blank paper, you know?"

"Yeah, I can see that. Is that why you gave such an irrelevant list of weird creatures you like to pet? To fill in the blanks?"

Mika didn't look at Michael as he caressed the soft nose of the horse with the back of his finger, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "It's a clever way to fill in the blanks...I agree, but all of it is true. I did not make it up 'just because'."

"Yeah? So you like salamanders and rats and stick insects...? I mean... stick insects?! You like twigs with legs?"

"They are organisms with an own will. They're very interesting, Mr. Schumacher."

The false politeness irked Michael. "Don't call me Mr. Schumacher. My name is Michael."

Mika wiped his hand on his jeans, then stretched it out to Michael. "I'm Mika."

"I already know your name, I read your resumé remember? Not that there was much to read." Michael reached out, but instead of grabbing the Finn's outstretched hand, he went for his wrist. "Listen. It's no playground here. I'm here to win!"

"Then we are on the same page."

Michael rolled with his eyes and stared at the blonde boy through narrow eyes, scrutinizing him again. Who did the guy try to impress having so many top buttons of his shirt undone? He was athletically built, fit and slender, but not particular muscular. The only really impressing thing about him was his sun-kissed golden hair... and his adorable little nose.

"We better be. I hope you know how to make horseshoes, because if you don't... what's the point of you being here?" Michael turned on his heels. "Your dinner is served in the kitchen with the chamberlains and the maids, by the way."

With a little tilt of his head he left Mika alone with the horses.

Michael walked to the large driveway of his mansion to wave his mother goodbye. She would return to Germany where she lived and where, coincidently, next race would be held. They would soon be reunited.

As his mother got into her shiny Rolls Royce, Michael noticed a slightly taller shadow appear next to him. The unexpectedness made him startle. He swiftly turned around to look who was invading his space.

Verdammt! Of all people working at the mansion, it was his new stable boy waving at the woman who had granted him the job he wanted. The man seemed to feel rightly at home.

And his mother, bless the woman, seemed to love it. She laughed out loud and waved at the new addition to Michael's staff. "Good luck you two!"

As soon as his mother was out of sight, Michael took a very obvious step away from his stable boy. "What are you doing here, man? Start doing something that can convince me you were a good choice after all." He leveled Mika with a stare and left him at the driveway.

Mika watched Michael go, noticing the impressive sway of his strong hips and the solid line of his broad shoulders. The German seemed hard to please. Maybe he had all right to be... he was a world champion after all.

A little perplexed by his not so warm welcome, Mika walked back to the stables. He stared at all the horses that were now his to take care of. All beautiful and stately Friesians. Mika wondered how Michael climbed on top of those horses. Did he need a crate? Or was he expected to give Michael a leg up or a helping hand? He blushed a little at the thought. He wanted to convince the German he was the right man for the job.

Feeling a little nervous all of a sudden, he wandered towards the anvil located in one of the corners of the stables. There was a rack with pliers and hammers on the wall and an intimidating looking oven next to it.

He took one of the pliers and studied it. All right, Let's make a beautiful horseshoe that I can show Michael later this day. He had time to practice now right?

Michael was sitting at the desk in his study room foiling through his fan mail. Lots of boys and girls had been asking for his signature, his advices or his hand in marriage. Michael spend a lot of time responding and making sure his replies did justice to the efforts of his fans. Replying accordingly to his fans required his full concentration.

That concentration was harshly interrupted by some frantic knocking on the door of his study room.

"Michael!" A louder knock. "Michael!"

Michael sighed and put his pen down. "Who is it?"

"Me."

Michael rolled with his eyes. "Who is 'me'?" He expected he already knew the answer. It was probably blonde and naive. "Is 'me' Mika?"

"Yes."

Michael got up with an exaggerated sigh. He walked to his door and opened it with a harsh swing, almost smacking Mika in the face. "Can't believe you wandered around my house to look for me! With your Wellies on none the less!"

"Look!" Mika held up the iron plier with a slightly disformed horseshoe at the end of it. "Watch out though! I think it's still hot. My first time doing it!" A big radiant smile.

Michael took his stable boy in from head to toe. He was wearing an oversized leather apron and leather gloves and looked way too proud of himself.

Michael didn't want to admit it to himself, but his stable boy looked kind of hot in that leather gear. He had no right to be that hot, he was too innocent looking! 

Mika stared at him expectantly. "How did I do?"

Michael quirked an eyebrow at him and chuckled. He stared at the sinuous metal being held in front of him. "That's not gonna win me races. Poor horse that has to wear that."

Mika shoulders slumped in an instant and the smile vanished from his face. Subconsciously, his bottom lip started to tremble. He didn't say anything but he looked so disappointed.

Michael stared at him in confusion. Was the damn guy seriously on the brim of tears? Seriously?! He was dealing with an adult or...?

Mika didn't start crying, but Michael suspected it was a close call.

"Okay." The Finn turned around to leave the room.

Michael felt overcome with guilt all of a sudden. There was something so jolly about his stable boy that it felt almost illegal to make him sad. If only he knew how to console the guy instead of making things worse... He reached out to grab Mika's arm. "Hey, why are you so quick to tears?"

Mika turned around and seemed a little alarmed by Michael's reaction. "What makes you say that? I am not crying, am I?"

"It's just that I think you should be able to take criticism and not look like a rain cloud after I try to lecture you. The horseshoe does look... incorrect." Michael strategically avoided the word "shitty".

"I will do better next time." With his face twisted in disappointment, Mika gently freed his arm from Michael's grip and took his leave.

Michael stared at him in disbelief. What did I do? Is he being a crybaby or am I being too mean to him?

Mika walked back to the stables with a glint of tears in his eyes. Am I really such a loser? He wanted to please Michael so badly. He looked up to the charasmatic German boy. Michael was a strong character and very popular with his fans. Not afraid to speak his mind.

He sought solace with the horses.

Michael's favourite horse seemed to sense the sadness of the new stable boy. With a soft neigh, the animal walked towards him and rested its head on Mika's shoulder.

The warm and calming presence of the horse grounded the Finn. He lifted his hand and started to pet the animal's long black mane.

"You have beautiful mane, Enzo! I should braid them some time!"

The horse bumped his nose against Mika's cheek and started to nibble on his blonde hair, making the stable boy laugh despite his drying tears.

"Oh, you want to style my hair too?"

Mika patted the horse's furry muzzle and then sat down on a bale of hay to lose himself in his thoughts for a couple of hours.

"Hey, are you still here?"

Mika looked up from his daydream. To his surprise he saw Michael entering the stables again. The German was sporting a - what seemed - genuine smile.

"I'm very sorry for just now. I'm glad my horse is nicer to you than I am."

"Animals are purer and more deserving creatures than humans." Mika paused for a moment. "...in general I mean. It was not a dig at you!" he hurried to add.

Michael chuckled and sat down next to him on the hay bale. He looked Mika into his eyes and felt a sudden warmness fill his heart. It was a strange, but very intense feeling. It was a if he bodidly enjoyed sitting close to the Finn.

"Listen. I'm truly sorry, okay? It's just that I am participating in a very professional and very serious sport. I'm very much used to being around extremely established and experienced people... it's okay if you're still new to things... it's just."

Mika listened intently.

"You know..." Michael continued. "I'm going to send you to the best farrier of Monaco for a crash course. Just make sure you don't look completely clueless at the race in two weeks time."

"I'm joining you there?"

Michael fought the urge to roll with his eyes, and the urge to grab the dumb handsome blonde and shake some sense into him. "Yes, of course."

Mika's broad smile reappeared again. He made a little jump. "Thank you, Michael!"

It was a couple of days later and Michael had barely seen his stable boy around. The guy was too busy taking lessons from Jean Todt the farrier. Michael was too proud to admit he missed Mika's presence.

Right now he was practising in his very own indoor riding arena as he saw Mika enter the building. The friendly boy smiled and waved at Michael, but Michael ignored him in favour of giving his horse the spurs.

The horse galloped at full speed to the far end of the riding box, breezing past Mika, who was watching them fly over the riding surface.

Mika watched them with rising admiration. Such speed and such grace. Michael seemed to be one with his his horse, his strong body spurring the horse on with rhythmic flowing movements. It was quite a sight to behold. A sight that kept him glued to the ground.

Michael was a little distracted by Mika's presence. For some reason he felt a sudden pressure to do well and to show off in front of the Finn. He wanted to make the man's eyes boggle in awe. So he urged his horse to go faster and faster and faster... not even at the race track he had taken so many risks.

He looked at the side to see if Mika was still watching him and then lost control over the rein. He felt himself slipping off his horse and in his panic he tried to grab his horse's mane, but he missed the long black hair by a fraction and crashed onto the riding surface with a loud thud. Sand and dust were catapulted in the air. A severe pain struck the German horseman.

Mika blinked with his eyes in confusion when he saw the black horse galloping around without its horseman, but then he noticed Michael on the ground with his face contorted in pain.

"Michael!" He exclaimed in concern and climbed over the barrier of the riding arena. Mika hurried to where his employer lay on the ground in a boneless heap. "Michael, are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?"

Michael stayed silent for a moment. He was conflicted between asking his stable boy for help and playing the situation down in order to make the Finn look stupid. He chose for the latter.

"Of course I'm okay! What are you looking at!" He barked into the direction of the boy.

"It looked very painful. I can help..."

Michael was too proud to accept help from his inexperienced stable boy. It was embarassing enough that he had fallen off his horse in front of the Finn. "I don't need your help or your symphaty!"

"Are you sure?"

Michael felt his blood boil and mingle with the cold sweat tracking down his back. He bit back his tears. "Go away!"

Mika stared at him for a moment. For a fraction of a second his bottom lip seemed to start trembling again, until he balled his fists and pressed that trembling lip in a fierce thin line.

"Alright. Good luck walking to a medic yourself then!" He grabbed the rein of Michael's horse and left Michael sitting in the sand.

"Poor horsie! Did you get hurt?"

The horse neighed and bumped its nose against Mika's arm. Its nostrils were flared because of the extreme exertion.

Michael stared at the Finn perplexed. He had never expected an outburst like that from him. He was usually so sweet and innocent. The sudden change in behaviour irked him. "Mika, don't talk to me like that! Get back here!"

Mika ignored him. "Did you hear that noise, Enzo? Or is it just me?"

Michael tried to get up, but couldn't because of the pain in his ankle. "Mika! Get your ass over here!"

Mika stood at a distance feeding Enzo some carrots. Not a care in the world. He didn't even spare a glance in the direction of the furious German, until Michael slammed his fists in the ground and started crying. "Mika. It hurts so much!"

Tears streamed down his flustered cheeks. He was in pain and he couldn't walk. He could no longer pretend it didn't hurt. "What if I ruined my championship chances hurting myself?!"

Mika sighed and walked back to the fallen horseman. He really was too good for this world, wasn't he?

"You said it hurts? That's what I asked you a minute ago," he replied sternly, towering over the crying German. He then crouched down next to him and cradled Michael's hurt leg in his arms.

"Where does it hurt?"

Michael sniffeled and wiped at his tears. "My ankle."

Mika nodded. He placed Michael's leg down gently and started to carefully pull at the black shiny riding boot with one hand, while supporting Michael's calve with his other hand.

Michael felt his cheeks heat up all of a sudden. Mika was so kind to him. How on earth was he still kind to him? It made him feel embarassed about being so mean to his stable boy minutes ago. He blushed when Mika took off his sock and started studying his swollen ankle with great intent. He scooted Michael's riding pants up and studied the rest of his leg with his strong hands.

"I'm sorry." It came out of nowhere.

"What was that?"

"I'm sorry for being such an ass to you!" Michael's eyes started watering again. "You're so sweet! You didn't deserve that! I'm so sorry, Mika!"

The Finn stared at him and smiled. "All good." Mika was forgiving like that. "Just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine." He placed Michael's ankle carefully back on the ground and gave his hand a little squeeze. "Speaking of medicine. I think it's only sprained. You need some rest, painkillers and a bandage."

Michael blinked with his eyes. "You are so kind you know that!"

Mika nodded. "Yeah, I know." He wiped at Michael's tears and offered the German his hand. "Ssshhh, don't cry. It's okay. No need to be embarrassed."

With a loud whine Michael let himself be pulled up and against Mika.

The stable boy weaved his arm around Michael's back to support him. He gave the horseman a soothing smile. "Come with me. It does look painful. I will grab an icepack and call a doctor."

Michael melted against him and looked him into his eyes. Emerald meeting saphire. "Do you think I can attend the race in two weeks?"

"I think you can."

"Where are we going now?"

"To your living room. I'm going to call a doctor for you."

[mdhwrites]

Amphibia's Ending is SOOOO Much Better Than People Made Me Believe

So I remember back in S2 when I watched "A Day at the Aquarium" expecting to be upset about the finale like a lot of the people I'd followed were when the finale came out. After all, with them being so close, why would they choose to leave? Could they really justify them just dropping the stones and moving on from these bonds they made?

And... That's what the story wants right then. But it was an assumption built off of false impressions that I want to talk about because the ending is REALLY smart in making its points. But to talk about an ending, I feel like I should bring up its beginning. This isn't always necessary but Amphibia actually includes what is effectively a primordial sin. A first failing that causes everything to happen.

A scared girl who is told that change is coming and that she must give up those she is closest to finds out that with some magic, she can make it all go away.

NEVER is this portrayed as having been the right thing to do. NEVER is the show about justifying Marcy's decision. Instead, the show's entire purpose... Is about letting go. It's about how the experiences we keep from others are more important than keeping those people beside us. Otherwise, controlling people, forcing them to be like you, the goals of Sasha and the Core, would be painted as correct. Chances to be together forever, doing whatever they want and never having to change.

So it ending with the trio having to say goodbye to the connections they've made is kind of the only way it COULD have ended. First is the fact that neither Sasha or Marcy would have accepted Anne dying at the start of the series. Anne would never have been willing to take such responsibility or sacrifice. She wouldn't have been willing to embrace such a painful change, just like how early on in the series she rejected the frogs and their culture outright.

And here is where we get my first misconception. I thought Anne was straight up given her second life for her deeds or because she made a deal that she'd be willing to be god if allowed to live her life. This is as much on me as anyone else but can we talk about the brilliance of Anne's resurrection? She's only saved to become a god. Theoretically, turning down the position is choosing to die again. It doubles down on how Anne has accepted change, no matter how dire. She even has good reason because like the Core said "Full of heart but dumb as rocks." She's made PLENTY of mistakes in this season, even as we've gotten to enjoy what a resplendent person she's grown up as. The fact that she's willing to admit that is beautiful, especially for any coming of age story.

And it's a good argument. One full of the sort of wisdom a god needs. So this bored cat of a god likes it. Likes it enough that without giving Anne a choice decides to let her get some more training before coming back to work for him. It's keeping in line with the explanation that he gave for the stones. He was CURIOUS about what mortals would do with ultimate power and was disappointed for TEN. THOUSAND. YEARS.

And here we get misconception two which I think is much more on the fandom. No one DECIDES to put the stones away. No one decides to cut off the worlds from each other. Hell, on the human side of things, one could argue that it's not closed, they just need a better power source since the music box just uses, well, music. No, the stones are gone because someone more powerful than them is tired of their trouble and removed them.

And so we're right back where we began. Having to be told to say goodbye and that you don't have the time to do it how you might. Yes, they technically have a choice to stay but let's actually talk about if any of them actually have a reason to want to be there.

ALL of the newts have only ever used Marcy (even when Yunan and Olivia save her, it's explicitly because of her mind, not because it's the right thing to do) and it took until she was STABBED for any of them to actually care about her with even basic humanity. This is not her world. And yes, her parents will force her to leave things behind but A: At least they were honest with her! And B:... Running from that choice hurt so many people before. Why would she choose that now? Why would she choose to suddenly claim to have learned nothing and considered herself right to have stranded them all there by stranding herself now?

Sasha may have made great connections but the point for her character is to give up control and prestige. She could live in this land as a hero and general, leading how things will be shaped, potentially in her image even... And it doesn't even cross her mind. She probably knows she has a lot to set right back on Earth. Besides, you know, there's just the basic fact that being literally the only human here would be a bit of an existential problem. It would still would also mean running away from finishing the work she needs to put in to become a better friend and mend the rifts between her, Anne and Marcy (I'll get to the ten year gap, bear with me).

And finally Anne. She has her parents to go back to. She does still prefer life on Earth, even if she came to love Amphibia. Hell, the fact that she does clearly prefer Earth, as showcased in S3A, actually makes her sacrifice MORE impactful because she's not doing this just because it's her home. She's doing it because she cares and because of the connections she's made.

But just like she was with the core, she is brave enough to say goodbye. Just because someone isn't right next to you doesn't mean they've left you. Honestly, in an age of constant communication, I love that. A reminder that you can take your time. You don't have to talk every day, do things together constantly, etc. like that just because you can. You are still your own person with your own life but you can carry the support and love those people gave/give you even when you're not face to face.

And so rather than run from change, they admit it's painful, they cry, they celebrate, they joke... And then they're gone. There is literally no better ending for this story than that.

It even follows through with the epilogue. Marcy, Anne and Sasha were codependent. S3 actually reinforces a lot that their negative traits are still there, or have new ones related to each other, even as they've grown. Anne still can't say no to people she cares about like with Sprig's Birthday and Give a Frog a Cookie. She still can't entirely trust that Sasha isn't self serving like in Sasha's Angels. She has scars that will take time to heal and change, just like she pointed out to Marcy in New Wartwood.

Sasha though has a whole NEW heap of issues though. She's gone from being controlling to subservient. Anne says jump, she'd say off what. She is terrified of making the same mistakes twice. She is constantly trying to seek forgiveness. That is NOT a healthy place to be as a person and it's almost entirely wrapped up around Anne. Them deciding they were okay with just staying in touch, rather than being on top of each other... is actually great.

Marcy doesn't have as much to say but she moved... And she figured out how to handle the human realm like she did Amphibia: Alone. Who she was and how to be herself rather than relying on Sasha and Anne or needing them.

But was ten years necessary? I mean... Kind of actually. If Anne STARTS the series turning thirteen, she still has this school year and 5 more to finish for primary school. Then since at least two of them sought degrees, you have four more years where Sasha and Anne might not have even been in the same state, let alone the same town, and Marcy MOVED. She literally couldn't come back unless the fates decreed until she was 18 and she might have chosen to persue an artistic degree so there's another 4 years for her.

Then one year after college to settle in, get the money for trips, etc. like that and... Yeah, ten years sounds about right because life's a bitch. Almost like that's one of the lessons of Amphibia. But as it also says: Those bad times don't need to be only bad. You never know what will come back to find you and be better than it ever was.

So yeah, I'm definitely not just in the camp that the Amphibia ending is good but that it almost couldn't be improved. Small things, mostly pacing wise, maybe but thematically and how it does those beats? Not really. Not when this is so focused on one goal.

And I'll take dedication to your concept over giving the audience a simple, happily ever after ANY day.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

And finally a Twitter you can follow too!

[worriedvision]

Cgkxulrztjdti I just read an albedo prompted of yours and I gave me an idea. Sadly I'm not a writer so I gib this idea to you only if you like it. It's the I didn't stand a chance prompt!!!!

So reader is sad because you know they didn't really have a chance but since it's windblume how about they get closer to cyno or Tighnari maybe even Kaeya. And it just makes Albedo feel jealous but he doesn't really understand the feeling. All he knows it's just a bitter taste and it feels like his heartrate is dropping and he can't explain it but it's definitely irrigating to witness reader with another but even when Albedo tries to approach reader they avoid him because they don't want to keep holding onto that false hope of maybe he'll like me back

So the initial post was this one! Gender neutral reader, Cynos the 'love interest' here.

--

Albedo couldn't help but feel relieved to see the traveler walking down the steps to sit with him while he waited for Klee to wake up, hoping to figure out the best way to act on his interpreted feelings. He felt so comforted by them, and it felt right.

The traveler looks at the paper that had the illustration on it, and Paimon looks over their shoulder to see.

"Oh, Klee must have a very...hmm..." The traveler hums out, unsure how they felt about the picture.

"Oh, Paimon thinks Klee thinks of you like a sibling!" Paimon cheers, Klee waking up at the voice.

"No, the travelers like my parent. Like big brother Albedo!" Klee cheers, a silence afterwards.

Albedo felt embarrassed because it implies the traveler was in a partnership with him, a thing he thought he very much hopes for. The traveler felt uncomfortable, because the picture implied Klee expected the traveler to be with Albedo, and they knew once the whole thing with their sibling got resolved it would only be a matter of time until they left Teyvat. Even if they stayed in Teyvat, being stuck to Mondstadt most of the time just didn't feel right.

"Paimons hungry! Let's eat!" Paimon fills the silence, everyone relieved for different reasons.

--

The next week was when the traveler knocked on your door, realising you hadn't been seen by anyone. Hoping to check on your welfare, they wait patiently.

When you open the door, the traveler shakes their head.

"Have you been keeping yourself in there all this time?" They tut.

"I'd rather not be reminded of..." You cut yourself off, knowing better than to ruin the mood by talking about your unrequited love and how you had been eating binge foods and crying as you tried to think up new TCG strategies.

"...Come with me." They state, not giving you an option. "You're obsessed with that card game, I have a friend that you may get along with."

"Ooooh, Cyno? Paimon totally agreed, Cynos good with the game but bad with his jokes!" Paimon states, you finally deciding to grab your latest creation before following the traveler.

To your surprise, you actually get on very well with Cyno. The first round you played was a round consisting of you slamming the cards down without realising it, and Cyno matching your energy.

"How is the Stormblume festival?" Cyno states, you looking up as you process the terrible joke. "Something unfortunate must have happened. You're playing like you're angry."

"Angry isn't the word I would use...I guess I'm just lonely." You shrug, deciding against ranting about your lovelife.

"Well, how about we play a couple more rounds? If we get on, I can tell you more about myself and you can return the favour." Cyno suggests, you nodding.

--

You land up talking casually to each other each round, growing more comfortable with each other. Before you knew it, you were walking with Cyno, feeling the same first impression you had with Albedo where you knew you were in love. Cyno must have felt the same way, as he asked you on a first date after being told you both had to leave since it was closing time for the Cat's Tail.

Tighnari was standing next to Albedo, focusing on the crafting bench before his ears pick up on something.

"...Did you just whimper?" Tighnari asks, caught off-guard by the sound Albedo let out.

"No I didn't." He protests a little too quickly, Tighnari raising his brow to express he didn't buy the lie. Tighnari looks over, seeing Cyno with you, and he tilts his head.

"Are you interested in Cyno?" Tighnari asks, Albedo shaking his head.

"I don't understand what I am feeling." Albedo simply states. "I thought I knew my feelings, but now? I'm not so sure."

"I'm sure you can dig in deep and find out what you're feeling." Tighnari brushes off, turning back to the crafting bench. "Just make sure you think before you act."

--

Albedo tried to approach you a few times in the times he spotted you. When you weren't working on a case, you were spotted with Cyno. He had no idea why he felt this strange feeling about you, the yearning.

When the first attempt doesn't work, he decides to approach the traveler to explain his feelings for them. They lightly reject him, explaining they couldn't keep a relationship up with their current circumstances regarding their sibling, and Albedo feels surprised. He expected to feel hurt by this rejection, but he didn't feel anything of the sort.

"Albedo, are you okay?" Paimon yells, Albedo nodding.

"I..Traveler, what does love feel like? Or Jealousy? Or Yearning?" He lists off, the traveler clearing their throat.

"That's not a question I expected." The traveler eases out. "Feelings are complex, Albedo. People experience them in different ways, and some people...don't."

"Oh, I see..." Albedo trails off, looking at you who was now holding hands with Cyno as you take a walk.

"Was that a whimper?" Paimon gasps, Albedo realising he let out that sound again. The traveler looks in the same direction as Albedo, and they realise you were the source.

"...What happened with you two in the Library?" The traveler asks, Albedo thinking to himself.

"I told them about my feelings for you, and they didn't take it well." Albedo thinks out loud. "Now I'm not so sure my feelings are romantic. They may be only friendly."

--

The last day Cyno was in Mondstadt, you accompany him to the gates with his colleagues and Albedo.

"I'll write to you." You smile, Cyno nodding before he plants a kiss on your lips. You can't help but steal a second one, hearing a variety of noises.

An 'aww' from Collei, a groan from Tighnari, and a whimper from Albedo.

"Be sure to visit." Cyno states at the same time you do, both of you nodding before he finally takes his leave. After they disappear from your line of sight, you turn to return home only to feel Albedo grasp your wrist.

"May I have a moment?" Albedo asks. "I...wanted to ask you about your relationship with Cyno."

"Well, you saw." You state.

"I did, however...Are you both sure you can maintain this long distance?" Albedo asks, you narrowing your eyes at him.

"My relationship is none of your business." You begin, hand on your hip.

"Why are you trying to ask me about him? Did your confession to the traveler go wrong?" You ask, Albedo rubbing his neck as he decides to try something.

"It was rejected, but it clarified that I don't feel that way about them..." Albedo states, clearing his throat before looking directly at you. "I think I have these feelings for you instead."

"I've moved on, Albedo. If your feelings were true, you need to do the same." You tut, walking away from Albedo as he experiences the pain of unrequited love by himself.

[miasiegert]

How Cats Casting Often Works (Summer Stock)

So due to request, explaining how casting works for many regional productions of CATS. NOTE: I am not discussing ANYONE I work with, anyone I've worked with past-tense, any production I've done. This is a general explanation of how summer stock works and how incredibly difficult it is for the director/choreographer to make decisions. Because, surprisingly, the director doesn't get auditions for each character! They have to choose from already cast actors! WHAT? Yup, that's Summer stock!

The actors are contracted to do about four shows for a theatre to last for their summer season. This is subject to change, sometimes actors have to leave (injury, illness, Broadway offers (yes, that happens!)), but for those shows the bulk of the actors are already cast! So someone can't hold auditions for Mistoffelees or Victoria. They need to go with who's already there (very talented! But they might have different skillsets!)

The director needs to assess the actors, some of whom they know, many of whom they don't and see reels but a lot of instagram, and they must compare them to the entire summer stock cast to decide what's best.

For example, if someone is not a singer but a great dancer, they might be someone like Mistoffelees, Victoria, Pouncival. If someone's got an incredible belt, they might be Bombalurina. Usually Bombalurina and Cassandra are coin tosses and REALLY hard decisions (you really need a good actor for Cass to be so aloof and hold the poses). If there's a soprano, usually the more classically trained one who is not a dancer will be Jellylorum. If someone's an incredible tapper, they'll be Jenny!

You get the double threats for the ones who dance and sing (Munkustrap, Skimble) and those might be some that'd be considered for different roles--Mungo and Rumple are always double-threats but often triple threat because of acting. If someone's a rock singer, they'd be Tugger because it's HARD to do that. If someone can turn and has a strong ballet/jazz background, they're Mistoffelees (which is how one can end up with a 6'2" Mistoffelees and very panicked costume designers who have 3 weeks to create TWO full new costumes from scratch to fit their height! What, no, I'm not talking about us, what gave you that impression?).

Then there are triple threats, ones who can dance, sing, AND act, like Demeter and Munkustrap. Those are HARD roles. It doesn't always end up like that because of who's available, which is NOT shade towards any actor--when contracted for a season, they are given the best possible role to highlight their ability.

For Macavity, it's usually one of the largest dancers because of the Munk and Alonzo lift and someone who is a very lyrical mover.

This does not mean that Plato will do the lift with Victoria in the Ball. The lift goes to the person who is the best at doing lifts in the cast. US Tour V had Eddie (who was Alonzo) doing the lift because he was the best. One of the Australian tours had (surprisingly) Tumblebrutus do the lift! Yes, really!

In the US, Mungo and Rumple are usually the same size for the double cartwheels and we are very confused as to major height differences in the UK. I mean clearly it works but it's significantly harder when one's not as balanced so that's taken into consideration (Mungo NEEDS to do some tumbling).

Ensemble is where it's REALLY tough. A lot of times people assume the ensemble members are the ones who are hidden/not as good. That's absolutely false. The ensemble members ALWAYS are swings and understudy multiple roles. They need to be prepared to jump in on the spot in case of illness or injury, such as an onstage injury (there was a horrific one on the US Tour once where Pouncival had to take over during Mistoffelees as the actor broke his foot during the turns). A lot of the BEST dancers are put in the back and random spots because in order to make a good show that's cohesive, you need to have what looks like a fully in sync production. The ensemble holds everyone together and are critical for the show to be a success.

Cats is one of the rare shows where, with the fandom, since they're all their own characters, they are recognized for each thing but often not the why!

Also some characters might randomly be seen because some of the wonderful donors might have walk ons! Without donors, many regional productions would not exist! So if you see a cat that's maybe sitting around in the background, catting around, not dancing/not singing, you should 10000% appreciate them because without them, there'd be no show! Patrons are super important and it's an honor to give them some GREAT costumes to wear (and super fun for them to be cats!)

I hope that helps explain how casting works in many productions of summer stock and how difficult it is! Also did you know most productions only have one week to rehearse??? Wichita had three weeks, I believe, but most are only one, it's true!!!

Let me know if you have any questions!

Also I saw the comment asking about how we make warmers; I don't know how to reply to a reblog (sorry I am not smart at social media). Some day, we can go through a basic tutorial. But learn how to cast on/cast off, knit, purl, and stretchy decrease (tutorials online). It's SUPER easy, just time consuming... oh so time consuming. As for fluffy warmers, we use a LOT of different yarns, always at least double-strand, sometimes quadruple, lots of eyelash yarn, and while David does NOT do this, for my warmers, I will always use scraps if I'm doing the strays. Cats are mottled IRL. They won't be consistent. David likes having three colors per costume. I... am a bit more wild... yet strangely it's my muted costumes that people seem to be talking about here (buttercup Jellylorum for example!). Oh. And always Magical Misto will have black leg warmers with purple sparkles hidden in them. That's my thing. I give characters certain colors. Misto is purple, Tumble is blue.

BACK TO WRITING! I made today's deadline but PUSHING ON so I have less tomorrow!

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Insinuation 2.7 Live Reactions

(This is me, writing reactions as I read, because why the fuck not. They're not complete, mature thoughts taken after I sit back and evaluate what I've read. Consider them as such)

I really need to plow through these faster. I'll be at this all summer and more at this rate.

 I felt a touch guilty, for acting under false pretenses.   I also felt pleased with myself, in an irrational way.

What false pretenses? :P Taylor, why you always lyin' to yourself? :P

That regret quickly turned to a pang of anxiety.  What would they think when they saw the real me?  Brian and Alec were good looking guys, in very different ways.  Lisa was, on the sliding scale between plain and pretty, more pretty than not.  My own scale of attractiveness, by contrast, put me somewhere on a scale that ranged from ‘nerd’ to ‘plain’.  My opinion of where I fit on that scale changed depending on the mood I was in when I was looking in the mirror.  They were cool, confident, assured people.  I was… me.

A year and a half of some of the most intense bullying will fuck you up.

I stopped myself before I could get worked up.  I wasn’t regular old Taylor, here.  In the here and now, I was the girl who had put Lung in the hospital, accidental as it was.  I was the girl who was going undercover to try and get the details on a particularly persistent gang of supervillains.  I was, until I came up with a better name to go by, Bug, the girl the Undersiders wanted on their team.

Ayyyyyy! There's that brain Taylor! :high fives her:

 I rationalized it by telling myself that I was already in this wholesale.  Being truthful about that one thing might well save my hide if any of them decided to do some digging on me, or if I ran into someone I knew while in their company. 

This isn't even a bad rationalization, like some of your others. Just sound logic.

 Lisa, though, put one of her arms around my shoulders and gave me a one-armed squeeze of a hug.  She was a little older than I was, so she was just tall enough to be at the perfect height to do it.  What caught me off guard was how nice the gesture felt.  Like I had been needing a hug from someone who wasn’t my dad for a long time.

Oh god you poor touch starved girl. We need to get you some emergency kittens, STAT! Maybe an overexcited puppy or two.

Or just Kara Danvers. She's huggy enough to cure even the worst touch-starvedness

It wasn’t an area that had been kept up, and kind of gave off an impression of a ghost town, or what a city might look like if war or disaster forced people to abandon it for a few years.  Grass and weeds grew between slats in the sidewalk, the road had potholes you could hide a cat in, and the buildings were all faded, consisting of peeling paint, cracked mortar and rusty metal.  The desaturated colors of the buildings were contrasted by splashes of vividly colored graffiti.  As we passed what had once been a main road for the trucks traveling between the warehouses and the docks, I saw a row of power lines without wires stretching between them.  At one point weeds had crawled most of the way up the poles, only to wither and die at some point.  Now each of the poles had a mess of dead brown plants hanging off of them.

Ah yes. The deadsville. Every fictional Urban Dystopia has one. :rofl:

Our destination was a red brick factory with a massive sliding metal door locked shut by a coil of chain.  Both the chain and door had rusted so much that I expected that neither offered any use.  The size of the door and the broadness of the driveway made me think that large trucks or small boats would have been backed up through the entryway back in the factory’s heyday.  The building itself was large, stretching nearly half the block, two or three stories tall.  The background of the sign at the top of the building had faded from red to a pale orange-pink, but I could make out the bold white letters that read ‘Redmond Welding’.

The convenient abandoned warehouse/factory.

Someone should set up an evil lair in an abandoned coffee shop. Just for a change of fictional pace.

I supposed they might have a TiVo, though I’d never seen one.

For some reason, some name-brands just feel... weird to see name-checked in fiction. TiVo is one of them.

“I’m jealous,” I admitted, meaning it. “Dork,” Alec said, “What are you jealous for?” “I meant it’s cool,” I protested, a touch defensively. Lisa spoke before Alec could reply, “I think what Alec means is that this is your place now too.  This is the team’s space, and you’re a member of the team, now.”

Cut her some slack Alec. She's still getting used to the idea of belonging/being wanted/welcome anywhere.

Also, like, I imagine Lisa doing that has *got* to get infuriating sometimes.

“Last time he went up against Shadow Stalker, he came back here and bled all over a white couch,” Lisa groused, “nine hundred dollar couch and we had to replace it.”

You shouldn't have gotten a white couch then :P

I blinked a few times, then hedged, “For other local capes?  I’ve done research online, read the cape magazines religiously for a few years, more since getting my powers… but I dunno.  If the past twenty four hours have taught me anything, it’s that there’s a lot I don’t know, and will only find out the hard way.”

Information is the greatest weapon in the Wormverse, that's for sure.

I stared at her, a good part of me horrified that I’d gotten into an undercover situation opposite a girl with superpowered intuition. Taking my silence for awe, she grinned her vulpine smile, “It’s not that amazing.  I’m really best with concrete stuff.  Where things are, timing, encryption, yadda yadda.  I can read something out of changes in body language or routine, but it’s less reliable and kind of a headache.  Enough information overload without, you know?” I did know, her explanation echoed my own thoughts regarding my ability to see and hear things through my bugs.  Still, her words didn’t make me feel that much better.

Alert! Danger Will Robinson Taylor Hebert

“And,” Brian said, still glowering at Lisa, “Even if she knows a lot, that doesn’t mean Lisa can’t be a dumbass sometimes.”

Everyone who has valid (even if not always correct) reason to think they're the smartest person in the room has a remarkable ability to also be the biggest dumbass in the room.

2.7 - not quite knocks it out of the park, but definitely very good.

[archivalofsins]

Fuuta 15, Mikoto 19, Amane 20

milgram character ask game ! send the character + the questions

Thanks for the ask!

Kajiyama, Fuuta/ Futa Kajiyama

15. What do you think of their voice?

I love Futa's voice. His first voice drama was my favorite in all of trial one. The cadence in which he talks is incredibly interesting. Despite not knowing Japanese his voice actor really gave off the tone of speaking customary of someone trying to sound more threatening then they actually are.

The equivalent of this-

X X

It was very entertaining to hear. Like Futa's voice is very fun and full of character. It's just great to analyze. Especially how he tries to cover up his fear. It's very remniscent to people who grow up in suburbs around cities but not really deep in them. Which just gives this really nice impression of a scaredy cat trying to act touch in an intimidating environment.

His tone in his songs are even better. Just overall great voice acting and vharacterization through tone.

Kayano, Mikoto/ Mikoto Kayano

19. what do you think their childhood/teenage years were like?

I believe Mikoto had an average upbringing. Since he was raised by a single parent with a younger sibling I imagine he more than likely dotted on and watched his younger sibling a lot. Probably had to be responsible from a young age. Given his focus on acting the proper way in social interactions I think he may have been bullied often in his younger years and possibly ostracized frequently. He says he played baseball in high school but wasn't really good at it.

Giving his parental situation I believe he probably picked up baseball with the idea of possibly getting an athletic scholarship but it didn't panout. His experience with baseball in high school could very well be why he's so focused on being accomodating now. Since if you're not a good enough or active team player in baseball coaches may be less likely to give you athletic recommendations regardless of how good one is at the sport and they will note poor communication skills and teamwork as a sign of bad sportsmanship to scouts.

He also says he picked up giving people nicknames in college. This was possibly an attempt at being more personable on his part. The fact that he consistently extends patience but focuses on people behaving properly for their age specifically to make sure they don't have problems with others not for self-improvement makes me think he was picked on a lot for being too difficult to approach.

Along with his statements on Milgram more than likely mistaking him for someone which implies he's used to being accussed falsely or fully blamed for things he did not do. Just because others view him poorly already. Also people with those kinds of experiences growing up tend to have more difficulty saying no and setting boundaries which leads to them getting taken advantage of not only in their personal relationships but work ones as well.

Something Mikoto has shown to have an issue with as well doing what people who grew up in that way tend to do when faced with adversity-

“No, I need to do more…”

Blame themselves for it occurring regardless of if they have control over the situation or not. So I thought his upbringing was something along those lines.

Momose, Amane/ Amane Momose

20. what do you think their social life was like before milgram?

I think Amane was a rather unsocalized child. She seems to have been more used to communicating with adults than peers her own age. It's also stated that she was not allowed to amusement parks where she would have the opportunity to interact with children her own age. In Purge March we see here off on her own with a cat at an underpass used for dumping stuff.

Chances are she didn't have many friends her own age and that cat was the closest thing she had to one. We don't see much of her school life even though she's implied to be going to it. Just her walking to and back home from school. Considering she went to school bruised up like that and home with no issue it doesn't seem like most people were paying attention to her.

She also seems used to being ignored and sitting in silence reading on her own and perfectly fine with keeping it that way if in a particularly bad mood. She also only actively reaches out to other prisoners when she has a pretense to. Most of her timeline interactions with others being prompted by her need for help with studying.

Or even in the minigrams interacting with Mahiru and Yuno when she had bad bedhead. Beyond that she only discusses certain topics in depth. Such as her father who she talks about with great enthusiasm on multiple occassions. She seems to be a father's girl and used to keeping to herself. So, I imagine she only really opens up or shows her more childish side around people she trusts and have shown that it's okay to act that way around.

She's a very emotionally guarded person so she probably doesn't really let herself relax until she has reason to believe it's safe to. At least that's the impression she's given me. Once she does though she can be rather social and opinionated. She's definitely not one to back down just because someone older than her tells her she's wrong.

Like with Futa bringing up she hadn't ate her meat that one time or the birthday interaction she had with Yuno. She can be a very helpful and hopeful person for others to communicate with in Milgram because she reminds the other prisoners that they don't need to back down or bend to the circumstances they're in and I think a lot of the prisoners in Milgram appreciate that about her.

Something best illustrated through these timeline interactions,

22/04/19 (Futa’s Birthday) Futa: Ahh…… I’m not wrong…… I wasn’t doing anything wrong…… Shut up, why are you going on an on about something so minor…… It has nothing to do with you…… Aaahhh…… Amane: Oh, were you talking to yourself, Futa-san? Or maybe there’s something there you’re able to see? Futa: ……! O-oh, it’s just you. It’s nothing. ……but well, on that note. Hey. Don’t you have anything happening too? Since being in here, just suddenly getting anxious. Feeling as though loads of people are all there condemning you, telling you you were wrong. Amane: ……I’m fine. I don’t know what you’ve done or what it is you’re worried about, but I think if there’s something you believe in, you should stay true to it. It’s not something that should waver just because other people said something. I personally don’t plan on changing my own beliefs even if I’m told I’m wrong either…… ……today is your birthday, correct? I’ll pray for God to keep you under his care

23/06/27 (Amane’s Birthday) Amane: What is it…… Kashiki Yuno. Don’t sit so close to me. Go away. Yuno: Sorry for barging in when you’re getting into your worldview thing. But Mahiru-san’s finally managed to get to sleep. Humour me with some small talk while I take a break. By the way, Amane. Have you ever wished you were never born? I’ve thankfully lived a pretty fun life so far, so haven’t really. But you seem to be struggling with something. So, I kinda wondered if you thought like that. Amane: ……I don’t think that. Being born into this world is the first miracle any person experiences, and is something to celebrate. Even if after birth I was put through trial after trial, the value of that will never disappear. Yuno: Hmm. Ok. ……happy birthday, then. It’s good that you were brought into the world, I guess.

Amane constantly reminds the people she knows that they are not their circumstances. That they are in fact still themselves regardless of what anyone says about them or the choices they make and that if they still believe in and have faith in those choices they should stick to them. So even though I don't think she communicates often when she does I'm pretty sure it helps a lot of the people she communicates with.

So, before in within Milgram i think her social life was limited but very fulfilling regardless.

[cerf-sk]

[ Silly fun facts because I decided to be nice to my ocs and not punch angsts to their faces for once ]

[ Realta has a husky named Ruby ]

[ Realta and Estrella likes eachother a lot. This can be interpreted as romantic and platonic, depends on how you see them ]

[ Estrella is the one who made the hairclip for herself and Realta so those two can match ]

[ Flicker is forever 25 ]

[ Flicker can create fireflies ]

[ Comet is a bisexual king ]

[ Flicker is agender ]

[ Katie despite being one evil mf, she’s lesbian ]

[ Katie has soft spots for cats ]

[ Comet loves sunflowers, it reminds him of his wife and daughter ,:)! ]

[ Comet is surprisingly fluent in Vietnamese ]

[ Katie does origamis in her freetime ]

[ Estrella loves to hold Realta’s hand because she feels safe around them ]

[ Realta is a portable furnace in a way. Very comfortable to hug ]

[ Comet is not a big fan of PDA, but his wife loves it (which she…did since yk, she’s oofed-) so he ended up loving it too ]

[ Comet is that one awesome chemistry teacher ]

[ Comet loves his students all equally ]

[ Flicker can mimic people’s voices ]

[ Z-187 loves to stay in the dark ]

[ Flicker sometimes gave people false alarm by accident ]

[ Flicker and Katie are American ]

[ Flicker doesn’t want to be associated with Katie, yet used the nickname ‘Flicker’ still because they still care for her as the younger sibling. ]

[ Katie is one heck of a bastard ]

[ Katie always make sure to appear as innocent as possible to make good impressions on unsuspecting victims that’d get experimented on. Just like how she manipulated Comet and experimented on him ]

[ Comet’s hair is fluffy ]

[ Estrella has an older brother that taught her how to make fireworks and taught her how to prank her friends ]

[ Estrella loves astrology ]

[ Estrella and Realta has a same color bracelet to remind themselves of their third friend,:)! ]

[ Realta and Comet, despite not knowing eachother much, has a very strong emotional and mental bond. Probably due to the fact both are somewhat on the same boat ]

[ Comet lets Realta messes with his hair from time to time ]

[ Comet refuses to curse in front of children. ]

[ Realta’s sister misses them ]

[ Ruby (Realta’s dog) also misses them. It has been waiting for them to come back home to greet it with a hug ]

[ Flicker and Katie were raised in a bad environment and grew up in it ]

[ Comet sometimes hums song to Realta to help them to get some rest in the storage room ]

[ Realta gave a scarf for Comet. He’s still keeping it ]

[bitterarcs]

Ten seconds of waiting held the weight of one hour, and Reno, a man never known to be a coward, was quite eager to call it quits after ten seconds. It wasn't fear as most people knew it. It was more akin to apprehension and dislike. The whole idea seemed preposterous from the beginning, but the red haired man was loyal to orders if nothing else. A man of humour, he only proposed ducking out because he knew his steadfast and somber partner would not budge so easily. A turn of his heel, and a massive gloved hand sat upon his shoulder like two ton anchor subduing a kayak.

A sideways glance of displeasure was offered even though Reno had been expecting it and wanting it. It alleviated the tension in the time it took for the door to be opened and confusion to replace disapproval. Scarlet eyebrow quirked and hues looked at the strange man up and down. It was like looking in a mirror . . only the thing the two men had in common was an expression of dislike; Reno wanted to punch the man just for looking at him like that. He had grown accustomed to such disapproving glances, but it didn't make it any less tediousome especially when a mission was involved.

Rude cleared his throat to offer an introduction and the purpose of the visit, but the man had stepped aside and allowed them entrance. It definitely was not what Reno expected nor what Rude expected; his partner's emotions were like threads of emotions tied to his own body in a way. In the silence growing among them, the sudden intrusion of voice nearly peeled the skin off from muscle. Reno only demonstrated his surprise by widening his eyes, otherwise he strolled inside the residence with the swagger of a man who knew precisely the kind of mess he was getting himself into. WE?

(  ❛  Well, you know we figured it was time for a family reunion. Get the whole gang back together.  ❜  )

Faintest, almost indiscernible snort escaped from Rude; to most it would have sounded like nothing but a deep exhalation of breath. Eyes were not modest in their search of the home. Head bent to and fro as eyes looked left, right, up, even down. Both men took every detail with great consideration, though the bald Turk was more subtle with his investigations. Shit. What had Verona done for herself in the years following her escape from the clutches of ShinRa? Whatever the hell she was into, she needed to share some tips with Rufus and associates; she even had damn butler! Had Reno been more comfortable, he would have jumped on one of the seats and splayed himself like a cat seeking the warmth of the sun.

Rude and he entered on good terms, but that did not mean no violence would come of the meeting. Expect anything. Never a fan of classics or anything most people found cultured and poetic, eyes don't give the piano a second glace. Boredom was etched clearly in his expression. Turquoise hues paid more attention to the various trinkets adorning the room until the woman finally turned her attention to the Turks. Expression was stiff but his body language gave off the false impression of languid and aloof. To his right, Rude stood tall and proud, even straightening already statuesque posture to meet Verona's intimidation tactics.

The red head admired how much his partner could increase the concentration from stick up the ass to built like stone fucking temple. Reno was capable of feeling it while gaze remained at the woman. WHO? His expression screwed up with genuine shock and hurt. She didn't know who they were?! Reno staggered back dramatically and was about to throw a hand to heart, but his partner beat him to it — calm response squashing whatever dramatic thing the red head intended. " I am Rude, and this is my partner, Reno. We are just two among the Turks, following the orders of the President, Rufus ShinRa. "

(  ❛  Really didn't know, huh? . . . Times are tough, obviously. The President wanted to make some friendly introductions and say let bygones be bygones. Past is in the past, and we want to move forward with an alliance. What d'ya say?  ❜  )

Some will tell you that everything was INEVITABLE .  There is something so painfully … H u m a n about the word , as if to imply it was all predicted , destined , fated to happen.  Many like to cling to the belief that there are REASONS behind why things happen , that there is – or ought to be – some GREAT PLAN ever in motion , guiding their lives.

But for those who did not think themselves human ( nor human enough ) , fate was often a story you wrote by own hand.  Verona herself has been carefully , if not meticulously , writing her own fate for YEARS ; every choice and thus every consequence leading her further and further into an undetermined , unforeseen future ( to an end , she would hope , where the eventual destination would grant her both prosperity & peace … unfortunately , the journey has not been quite so simple ) .  And for all the things she has done and said in her lifetime – some of it beneficial , though much of it destructive – Verona has learned ( through too-painful lessons thrust into her path ) that there is very little of life ( of the future , too ) that is c e r t a i n or p r e d i c t a b l e .  This became accepted as fact , this was … Just how things were.  After all , questioning it never yielded any true answers ( though that did not change the burgeoning ire in her heart ) .

Verona remembers well the fall of her forbearers.  At LAST , their era of power has been d e s t r o y e d , they have been t o p p l e d from their once-proud mantle and left scattered , disgraced by the public.  Which would mean that h e r name would reign unchallenged , without contention ( after all , it was the companies of valhyr & shinra which presided over midgar in warring paradox ) .  Despite this , the Chimera had felt NO JOY for it , only a fleeting relief and resignation.  And eventually , she too , began to put into motion the plan to set the sun on her enterprise ( a choice which her entire company attempted , in vain , to make her overturn ) .

That is , until her second-in-command handed her a LETTER with the official ShinRa stamp emblazoned on the otherwise innocuous envelope.  There was , of course , a hesitation to even read it at all.  For why would ShinRa want to reach out to h e r now ?  To her surprise , it was a proposition for A TRUCE , an endorsement for a partnership and alliance going forward.  Funny , it seemed a little l a t e for such a prospect— Yet , Verona accepted just the same ( in the end , it might well be wiser to bury the past than continue to relive it ) .

Come the day the Turks arrived at Verona’s secluded , out of the way manor , it is not the Chimera who answers the knock but Pandora , her right-hand.  The displeasure on his weathered features is plain enough when he sees the Turks standing on the stoop , but he tips his head to them , stepping aside and pushing the large door wider to let them in.  ❝ You know , we were … A little shocked to hear you reach out to u s , ❞  He remarks , merely making idle conversation as he escorts them through the place.  The truth of the matter was , Verona took it better than he did and he STILL isn’t quite sure why that is.  But far be it for him to question whatever it is she was thinking by accepting the bargain.

Pandora leads the two into a sitting room , where the space swells with the music of a woman playing a jazzy melody at the piano ; upbeat , lighthearted and robust , not at all what one would expect of the supposedly dangerous character.  For a moment , the man simply stands and looks on at her , an expression on his face that b e t r a y s him for the way he cares far more for her than he ought to.  ❝ V , your guests are here. ❞  Pandora announces , his voice cutting through the chords she’s playing.  GUESTS … What a thing to call them.  No doubt it’s spoken facetiously.

Verona pauses , the point of one ear quirking back before she rises from the bench and turns to face the three gathered in the room.  She t o w e r s over the men , radiating authority and a palpably f r i g i d air.  The closer she gets when she approaches , the COLDER the room becomes.  Despite her kindly smile , it’s obvious this is just a formality and nothing more.  Half-blind sights track from one Turk to the other and back again , her scrutiny upon them is keen and fierce , as if trying to DISSECT THEM , to weigh their merit through mere glance alone.  ❝ Hello , you're right on time , ❞ Her head bows slightly , then raises back to proud hoist , ❝ And I assume you already know who I am , but who are y o u both ? ❞  Tone is polite , her words carry an air of business-like cordiality. She is not sure what to expect out of this , but hopefully it shall be WORTH IT .

[cersworld]

how much game i think each nct dream member has:

mark:

3/10

sorry man, he has no game (tries his best though)

mans is so bad at flirting it's actually endearing

definition of 'good plan, bad execution'

would be the guy to actuallu research the stuff girls are into (i.e. watch tiktoks like 'when a guy does this... *swoon*')

would probably laugh too much andat stuff that isn't even funny :|

peobably be the perfect guy for a bkimd date because his awkwardness would help you relax yk

renjun:

8/10

has a lot of game (source: my gut)

would definitely make a good and memorable first impression that would make you wanna see him again

the kind of guy who would ask you about your interests

cafe/coffee dates

stargazing

would probably smile softly throughout the date to ease your nervousness

jeno:

6/10

unintentional game #1

wouldn't even realise he was flirting w you / you were flirting w him until a good 6hrs later

it's giving gamer bf but make it ✨ wattpad ✨ yk?

would be really sweet and offer to pay for your stuff and hold it for you, etc.

would probably show you pictures of his cats and tell you about how he's allegic to them, on the first date

haechan:

1/10

borderline no game

idk i feel like his personality is so unique that he would only be able to get with very specific types of people i.e. people who can match his energy

is the kind of guy to have a no-show blind date and just end up inviting his friends to the restaurant cause he's too embarrassed to just leave (wouldn't actually be sad abt it dw)

jaemin:

4/10

unintentional game #2

technically a 2/10 but i feel like he'd pull a lot of people at the start because they'd think he was something very different to his actual self

will seem really charming at the start

every aspect of this man is the definition of 📈📉📈📉 i'm talking his voice, his excitement levels and energy, etc.

one second he's charming you with his deep voice and rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand gently, and the next he's pulling faces and almost falling out of his chair

chenle:

9/10

has the most game in dream

like shawty can play

this man knows how to flirt (source: trust me dude)

he's the kind of guy to casually lean back in his chair while your talking and slide his arm over the chair next to him while giving you all of his attention

would be the kind of guy to drop you off at home after a date and wait til you got inside before driving away

jisung:

5/10

unintentional game #3

would probably pretend to gave game tho, like false confidence

cannot, for the life of him, talk to new people or girls but people would take that as him being mysterious and cool

would be the kind of guy to pat his pwn back when he's walking away after getting your number

would probably kiss your cheek on the first date

his smile could melt hearts

[chilumi-shipper]

Ready to Let Go

Xiao x Adeptus!Fem!Reader (x Zhongli)

Summary: Zhongli loves you, Xiao loves you, You love Xiao. Seems as though, in the eyes of everybody else, Zhongli was gonna be a problem within your relationship with your fellow adeptus. He would never do that though, not to you, not to Xiao. For the first time, the vigilant yaksha seems happy, and you seem more carefree the moment you two are starting to get close to one another. Zhongli would never trade your happiness for the sake of his own, and that's why, he's ready to let go.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The God of War, flaunting over one of his very own dearest adeptus, if Guizhong saw him right now, she would've laughed at how much he jumped and flaunted over you whenever you were in his presence.

But love is complicated, he could say he loves you with a burning passion, yet it can never change the fact that you had fell for another, no matter how much Zhongli might push through, you will choose to be embraced within the arms of your true beloved, Xiao.

Neither you nor him ever said anything to confirm the nature of your relationship, but Zhongli felt it, the connection between you and the adeptus was so much more than just two people who used to work along side each other. You and Xiao, he's known both of you for millennias, you're not really the greatest with expressing emotions.

Zhongli was never one to fight reality, in fact he accepted it with open arms, having no care for the pain it might bring.

But just this once, he let's himself drift to a false hope, perhaps you only see Xiao as a friend, that in actuality you tell him the feelings that you're too scared to say to your Archon. But every time Zhongli dreamt like that, he can't help but see Xiao, sadness clouding over him, it slaps the brown-haired man in the face.

He can't do that to Xiao. The poor boy, tormented his entire life, but today, he may very well be bearing a smile on his face, with you around him, with you loving him.

He was sitting between you two, in a table in Wangshu Inn's restaurant area, the light atmosphere was calming.

It was supposed to be a nice get together, yet Zhongli felt irritated. The way your gaze lingers past him and onto the person of your interest as you spoke about how you tried cooking mortal food recently. How you seem to take into account every expression and response Xiao would give, but pay no mind to Zhongli at all.

You weren't being rude and ignoring him the whole time, in fact, you make eye contact with him from time to time, to see if he's understanding you. But Zhongli felt peeved, why couldn't you look at him the way you looked at Xiao?

"I really like cooking actually!" You exclaimed, the cat-eyed adeptus smiling softly while listening to your rambles, his elbow resting on the table, while his chin leans on his hand. That makes Zhongli feel even worse for having such feelings for you, just looking at the small but genuine smile on Xiao's face as he admires you.

"Xiao?" You softly called out to him, clasping your hands together. The adeptus gave a hum in response. "There's this recipe I found called "Tofu Cookies with Almonds", I was hoping you could help me taste test them when I try baking for the first time?" Your voice gets quieter the more you say. Zhongli found it adorable when you get shy, yet he can't help but feel a nauseous felling eating away at his skin, you didn't invite him.

The waitress puts the food you all ordered on your table before Xiao answers. Zhongli looked into your eyes, seeing the nervousness as you anxiously wait for an answer.

"Okay."

Golden orbs then looked at Xiao, seeing he's looking away from you, his ears red from embarrassment. Yet even when he tried to hide it, the Archon can feel his giddiness from miles away.

Zhongli can't help but look back and forth, seeing your eyes light up with happiness because of Xiao's answer. "Thank you so much!" You smiled brightly, proceeding to put some food onto your plate to start eating.

In all this, Zhongli felt as though he didn't have a place. Perhaps you were overjoyed that you didn't look at the fact that you completely discarded him, but someone else noticed.

"Mora- Zhongli can join us too, he's good at taste testing food." Xiao looks at you, before looking at the taller man. "I think." Zhongli then nodded, agreeing with Xiao's statement.

He knows he shouldn't, he knows that he just let the two of you resolve your feelings together, just the two of you. Yet he can't, for once in his life, he feels that it's too hard to let go.

The two looked at you expectantly, despite you making it obvious that you wanted to spend some time with Xiao alone, Zhongli hoped that maybe, just this one occasion, you'll let him intervene with your growing relationship. It's selfish, it's pointless, but just this once.

You smiled, "Okay."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Mr. Zhongliiii!" You burst in the funeral parlor, calling out to him. "You have to help me." The man got up from his seat immediately, worried.

"What happened?!" He asked in a panic.

You looked down onto the book in your hands, the man did the same, looking at a book that has a very interesting title.

'The Art of Romance: For Newbies.'

What?

Usually, if you were to come to him with a book like that in hand, he would have laughed and teased you, eager to see your embarrassed state. Yet, Zhongli felt nothing but hopelessness, you putting in so much effort for someone else, meaning he really has no chance, does he?

"I need to you to help me look for a really nice dress. Like really, really nice! Oh but not too nice, since we're baking, if I get stains on a dress, he might think I'm sloppy. Oh, but if it's too simple, he'll probably think that I don't really care. Ohhh, but I don't want to seem like I care too much--" You looked up at him, rambling on and on about what you're supposed to wear for tomorrow. "It says here that if the person thinks you're too desperate, they might think it's weird." You pointed at the book that you're holding, bring it closer to his face.

Zhongli gently grabbed your hands that are clasped around the book. "If you're worried about Mora, I already have some on me." You peaked your head from behind the book, looking at the brown-haired man's serious face.

"Him?" Zhongli completely ignores your ramblings, only focused on one thing you said. You're worrying so much about what to wear, just to make a good impression to him.

You felt your cheeks heat up as he looks at you with a frown on his face. You laughed a bit to ease the tension, scraching the nape of your neck.

"Xiao..." He's mentally prepared himself for this moment, you would come to him, ask for advice since you knew him as a very cultured man, and you would confess your love, for someone else. And yet, hearing it come from your own lips seem to crack the barriers of his heart with just one word.

Despite the tears wanting to just slip out of his golden orbs, he smiled at you. "I've always sensed your feelings towards him." His words fluster you even more, you didn't realize it was so obvious, but Zhongli was a very observant person, maybe it was just that.

"Do you wish to impress him tomorrow? That's why you're so... jumpy today?" You nodded, feeling embarrassed that you are worried about this sort of thing. Usually, only mortals are prone to these types of worries.

"Y/N, Xiao doesn't care about those trivial things. You just have to be yourself." He told you as a matter of fact.

'Besides, the Yaksha already is making it obvious that he likes you back.' Zhongli kept this thought internally.

"But what if he doessss." You whine, gripping on the book tighter. "Xiao is just so.... Xiao! So unpredictable and complicated." Sighing, you looked up at the man again. "Can you help me, please?"

Zhongli sighed, although it hurts him to help dress you up so pretty, just to send you off to another man, but he'll bite. How could he ever say no to you.

After hours of rummaging through your closet, you finally, finally find something that's actually good in your eyes, even though Zhongli assured you that everything would be fine.

The dress of your choice has Xiao's colors, white, gold, mint green. You really are some piece of work, piece of work that doesn't belong to him.

Zhongli just kept sighing as he walked back to the funeral parlor, he's conflicted, which usually doesn't happen. Is he just gonna leave you two alone for tomorrow with some lousy excuse, or... get in the way.

As he got to the entrance of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, he saw Xiao, sitting on a bench just outside. The cat-eyed boy sensed Zhongli's presence, standing up and looking at his way immediately.

The brown-haired man walked up to him, silently asking why he's here all of a sudden, in the city, which also doesn't happen very often.

"Can you help me?"

Oh boy, here we go again.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"You don't have to straight up lie if you don't like her treats, you can just give polite comments, like saying you're not really a big fan of them or something." Zhongli explained once again, it was the dead of night. Xiao had asked to help with how he should talk to you, he's not very talkative and expressive, but he doesn't want to make you feel like he doesn't like you.

"But that might also hurt her feelings." The Yaksha pointed out, listening intently to the older man.

"Yes, but she will appreciate the truth rather than a pointless lie."

He just needs help expressing his feelings right.

And Zhongli seeing how you two desperately try to be the best you can for one another, it makes him smile, despite the constant heart ache. And the realization that he has no chance for you, with the evidence right in front of him, Zhongli makes his decision...

He's ready to let go.

"I'm not gonna be joining you two tommorow."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Alternative Ending: Ready to Hold On - Reader chooses not to choose and start a polyamory relationship.

[aiweirdness]

A 10,000 year warning

It isn’t every project that requires people to make plans for thousands or millions of years in the future. But some kinds of nuclear waste remain deadly for over 250,000 years, probably outliving all existing civilizations, languages, and possibly even humanity itself. So when people design nuclear waste storage facilities, they also have to think about what kinds of warnings might still be understandable so far in the future. People have proposed many approaches, from pictograms to carvings of horrified faces to genetically engineered cats or cacti that glow in the presence of radiation.

One class of proposals from a 1993 report would change the landscape itself to appear shunned, forbidding, or useless:

The report authors recommended “Menacing Earthworks”, but to me this seems unsatisfactory - it seems like future beings might find it interesting enough to investigate, with an inviting pre-prepared construction site at the center. There are even viewing platforms! So I gave a summary of a few of the designs to GPT-3 to complete, to see if it could suggest some scarier alternatives.

Some of its suggestions would fit right in with the human designs, about as likely to warn away/confuse/intrigue future civilizations.

Sphere of Gravity A large sphere of rammed earth or metal, so smooth and featureless that it gives the illusion that it would attract any object that came into contact with it.

Randomization A large circular area with random dips and peaks of various sizes, with alternating coloured layers of sand.

The Giant Hand: a tall, narrow, rectangular slit in the earth, with a huge hand protruding from the bottom.

Mountain of Empty Barrels A large artificial dune consisting of empty oil drums.

Cratering Large craters on the site, which would be visible from the air, and give an impression of a site which has been blasted and destroyed.

Dangerous Stairs An enormous set of crisscrossing, stair-like structures made of concrete, covering the site from view.

Upside Down Landscape A series of artificial hills constructed upside down in each corner of the site, which would still appear strange even after years of use by wildlife.

Horizontal Plinth of Cloudy Quartz and Bismuth A thin stone strip placed flat along the landscape, from which a series of large cloudy quartz crystals and bismuth balls will protrude.

Other neural net suggestions seem a lot less effective, mostly because they wouldn’t be even slightly forbidding:

Warning Stones: Tiny stone monuments, placed in the soil in the shape of a natural formation, which could be used to generate a narrative about the site's dangers.

Fairy Ring A large circular ring of mushrooms around the site, which after some time would grow together and form a continuous ring.

Speak No Evil Landscape Loudspeakers broadcasting sometimes false and sometimes true warnings from the landscape.

Disrupted Pollen Lines Certain native plant species such as junipers and yew could be planted to indicate that there is no farming or building allowed.

Robot Sculptures A series of very-large-scale sculptures of robots, which would be visually striking and memorable from a distance.

Another class of neural net result would probably be pretty darn noticeable, and pretty darn scary, if anyone could figure out how to actually make them.

Infinite Mountain A large decorative mountain that would continue to grow indefinitely at the center of the site or in its vicinity.

Distortion of Time and Space A massive device that would alter the flow of time and gravity in the vicinity.

Hydrothermal Alteration Zone (HAZ) A large geothermal area full of exploding geysers, boiling mud pools and a foul odor, sometime described as smelling like rotten eggs, sulfur, and chlorine. Such a place has a history of being less wanted by the local peoples, and will not be easily reclaimed.

Cosmic Rift A large opening at the site through which a small pebble might fall endlessly.

In the examples above I prompted GPT-3 with the sentence “Proposals for warning our descendants away from a nuclear waste storage site:” followed by a few of the forbidding landscapes that humans had proposed.

But could the landscapes get spookier if I raised the stakes? I tried changing to the prompt “Proposals for warning our descendants away from a place of utter cosmic horror, the nature of which we dare not whisper, and which may totally destroy any mortal foolish enough to linger at the site:” and YES they got MUCH scarier. Here was one of its first suggestions:

Giant Tube Worms A large cluster of enormous worms growing from a rocky surface, extruding bubbling fluid, and emitting audible chittering noises.

Subscribers get bonus content: A bunch more, including “Dam of Innards” and “Tulips of Shrieking Madness”.

My book on AI, You Look Like a Thing and I Love You: How Artificial Intelligence Works and Why it’s Making the World a Weirder Place, is available wherever books are sold: Amazon - Barnes & Noble - Indiebound - Tattered Cover - Powell’s - Boulder Bookstore

[mysticpetals]

Supermarket runs

Pairing: Jake × mc (Syianne)

Genre: fluff, humor

Words: 2.5k

Summary: Three times Jake ran into Syianne and one time he actually made plans.

Anonymous asked: Hello. If you do still requests, can you do 27 and 40, with Jake and MC from Duskwood from fluff? Sorry I forgot to add that.

Prompts: 27. "Are you blushing?" 40. "Why are you so afraid of loving?"

Notes: here it is! A cute meet up fic with Jake's point of view. I hope you like this one because it's going to be the last thing I'll be posting for a while 😬

Jake had reached his new hideout just a few hours ago.

After evading yet another capture from the government and planting false trails in his wake, he had escaped to a small town, renting an apartment for the time being.

Opening the door to his new house for a few days, he put his cat down, opened his cage and let him explore. Glitch immediately disappeared and Jake put his bags down, sighing tiredly.

He needed to make a quick run to the store nearby, getting some food and other essential items since it was clear that they didn't stock it in the room.

Before he could change his mind, Jake picked up his wallet, locking the door and walked to the store he came across on his way over to the apartment.

It was a medium sized store, probably the one of the few in this small town. Jake browsed the shelves picking up the things he needed along the way. He avoided eye contact with everyone, putting his hood up.

When he was done, he quietly put the few cup noodles and microwaveable dinners on the counter and waited for the cashier to scan his items. Just as he went to pick up the first item, the cashier's phone rang and he glanced at the screen, eyes widening in surprise before his face settled into panic.

"Oh shit, oh shit, I completely forgot," he mumbled to himself frantically and giving Jake an apologetic glance, ran towards the back room.

Well then, it wasn't like he was in any hurry either. He didn't want to go back so soon anyway. He rocked back on his heels, adjusting his mask so that it still covered the lower half of his face and looked around in boredom.

From the backroom, he could hear two voices arguing, one male and other female and just when he thought that maybe it was going to take a while, the cashier ran out of the room, hefting a jacket over his shoulders and looked back.

"I owe you one, Syianne! Thank you so much!"

Jake tilted his head on hearing the familiar name, memories of conversations with his Syianne creeping up.

"You really do, Percy! I better have a three day weekend after this!" The girl shouted back and Jake smiled behind his mask. She even sounded like her.

The cashier yelled back something but he was already out the door to hear properly. The girl came out from the back, wearing her uniform jacket and grumbling about having to do two shifts, but Jake had frozen.

"Sorry about that. My coworker forgot about the date with his girlfriend and had to bolt. Between you and me, she's pretty scary so I'd be running too," she said, already ringing up his few items but Jake couldn't reply. He kept staring at her familiar face, which he had accidentally accessed when going through her chats before.

This was his Syianne.

She glanced at him, probably wondering why he didn't say anything before looking back on the screen. He broke out of his stupor when she told him the total and held up a bag with his items.

His fingers brushed against her and it felt like a lifetime, blood rushing to his cheeks and heart pacing.

"Thank you," he said and got a smile in return.

"You're welcome! Sorry about the delay earlier."

He shook his head rapidly, telling her that it was no trouble and he completely understood. That made her smile widen, her eyes crinkling with happiness.

"Come again soon!"

Oh, he'd be coming back very soon, indeed.

The first thing he did after reaching home was to power on his laptop and search for Syianne's location. Glitch hissed angrily at him for disturbing his slumber atop the chair he was now sitting in but Jake's eyes were fixed on the screen.

The results baffled him, as it showed her living in a completely different country from when he had searched her before, when he had just gotten her number. And then, realisation dawned on him that she might be using a VPN.

He banged his head on the table in frustration but also a little impressed that Syianne had thought of doing something like this to protect her identity.

He was supposed to stay away from all of them, to prevent pulling people into his messes but now one of the most important people in his life literally worked a walk away from his hiding place. He couldn't change places so frequently as it hadn't even been a day and he had to give some time to the police to cool off, before he got on the move again.

He sighed, too wound up to make anything but cup noodles, he got up and went into the kitchen. Glitch trailed behind him, sniping at his heels for his own food and Jake emptied the last can of cat food into Glitch's bowl.

With a jolt, he realised that he would have to go to the supermarket tomorrow again and it brought him equal parts of excitement as well as anxiety at the thought of seeing Syianne again.

———

The next evening, he put the cans of cat food on the counter and was disappointed to find that the guy from yesterday – Percy, if he recalled right – was going to scan his items.

Jake shifted the mask on his face and looked around to see if Syianne was somewhere but to no avail. If Percy noticed him looking around, he didn't say anything. When he grabbed the bag from him, the employee room opened and Syianne came out wearing casual clothes, a bag slung over her shoulder.

"See you tomorrow, Percy!"

She came out from behind the counter and her eyes widened in surprise as they fell on him.

"Oh hi! You're the one from yesterday."

Jake cleared his throat and let out a hesitant, "Y-yeah."

Percy snickered, throwing a knowing look at Jake before turning to Syianne.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, idiot. Bring some coffee with you." He handed Jake his bag as he scrambled to bring out his wallet to pay and gave him a wide smile.

"Syianne here works the morning shifts." He winked and Jake was mortified to hear the amusement in his voice, knowing that he had been caught.

"I'm not bringing you anything until I get my three-day weekend. Anyway, nice to see you again…." She trailed off when she turned to Jake and his mind went into overdrive as he thought about whether he should tell her his real name or not.

"Phil." He blurted out, "My name's Phil."

She tilted her head, no doubt thinking about that bartender from Duskwood who was currently locked up in jail.

"Funny, I know a guy named Phil. Not from around here though." She glanced at the door giving him a final smile.

"Because all the customers come in the evening." Percy complained and Syianne only rolled her eyes at his antics.

"Well, come by in the morning if you want to chat. It's pretty chill that time."

"Deal with it. Anyway, see you tomorrow." She waved one last time and walked out, Jake's eyes following her figure until she disappeared around the corner.

"She's sweet and a little too trustful. I better not hear any complaints about you from her Phil or I won't hesitate to throw a punch or two." Percy threatened and Jake flushed before muttering a hasty excuse and practically running out of the store.

She actually talked to him today and hearing her voice, her words just made it harder for him to stay away. But it was okay if he didn't tell her who he was, right? She won't be in any danger then, right?

These thoughts chased him as he walked back to his temporary home, almost tripping over Glitch when he entered and found a disgruntled cat, waiting for his food.

———

The next morning, Jake worked in his room, occasionally shooing away Glitch who was determined to get his daily dose of affection.

"Just a minute, Glitch." He muttered, typing rapidly, his eyes scanning the screen with an eerie quickness.

A loud, disgruntled meow from his cat breaks the silence again and Jake heaved a frustrated sigh, pushing his laptop away and glaring at the culprit.

"Fine, you little devil! I'll give you breakfast first."

He walked out of the room, Glitch trailing behind him, purring in appreciation and hopped on to a chair while Jake took out the instant pancake mixture that he had recently bought. And that reminded him of the fact that Syianne was here, so close and whether he should tell her or not.

Making the pancakes in a daze, he put a plate in front of Glitch who immediately started gobbling it up. Jake huffed out a laugh and made his own plate, sitting across from his cat. The syrup was towards Glitch and when he leaned forward to take it, he was met by Glitch's paw swatting at his hand.

"What the hell? You ate already! Let me eat too!"

Glitch's paw rested on the syrup bottle and edged it towards the end of the table.

Jake froze.

"Glitch, no. Give me the syrup."

The bottle shifted a bit more.

"No, Glitch. Stop that."

The cat looked at him and stopped and Jake gave a sigh of relief, only to throw back his head in exasperation at the next moment as the bottle was finally pushed off the table.

"You little devil! I'm going to—"

The cat sprang up and ran into the other room, leaving Jake in the kitchen alone.

"Why is it always me?"

———

After cleaning up the kitchen and eating pancakes without any syrup, Jake found himself in the supermarket once again, embarrassed about being there everyday for the last three or so days.

When he put his items on the counter, including a syrup in a plastic bottle this time, he found himself facing Syianne who gave her an amused look.

"Having a good day, Phil?"

It took a moment for Jake to understand that she was talking to him and he flushed when he met her gaze.

"Not really. My cat decided to be an asshole today."

Syianne laughed and if Jake could have heard it everyday, he would. When she scanned his bandaids, she raised an eyebrow, and Jake gave her a sheepish smile, showing her his poorly wrapped hand.

"Oh no, that looks bad," she said but Jake only shook his head.

"It's better than it looks, I promise. I'm just bad at wrapping things up."

She didn't smile but only looked behind him. Seeing no more customers, she gestured for him to come to her side of the counter. Confused, he did as she asked and understanding dawned on him when he saw her opening the packet of gauze he had just bought.

"Oh, no, no. It's okay. I can do it at home." He rushed but she didn't listen, silently asking for him to hold his hand forward. When he realised that Syianne wasn't going to take no for an answer, he sighed and put his hand forward, face heating up and he regretted forgetting to wear a face mask that day.

"Are you blushing?" She asked teasingly and his flush only worsened.

"I-I'm not used to other people caring for me."

She hummed.

"That must be lonely."

She carefully unwrapped his hand, winching at the sight of blood and cleaned it with antiseptic wipes, before wrapping a bandage around the cut. Her hands were gentle but firm, as if she knew what she was doing and had done it a hundred times before. Jake was suddenly hit with a weird nostalgia, a feeling of wanting to know who she was, how many siblings she had, what her goals were.

He didn't realise when she had stopped, staring at him, as he was looking at her and only after several minutes had passed, did Syianne dropped her hands, letting him know that she was done.

The thought struck him like lightning and he quickly grabbed his bags, muttering another thank you and getting a simple smile in return. Before he knew, he was out on the streets and on the way to his house, his thoughts a raging turmoil.

"Thank you very much." He spoke softly, quietly, overwhelmed by such a gesture from her. He was essentially a stranger and she had still helped him, not knowing who he was.

She didn't know who he was.

What was he doing? Going to see her like that, finding excuses to go to the supermarket in hopes of seeing her? What did he want to accomplish?

He released a shaky sigh, running his hands through his hair, when he reached the place. Glitch, knowing that it wasn't the time for his shenanigans, only gave a welcoming meow from his place on the couch.

Maybe it was time he started searching again.

Jake opened his laptop but the ping from his phone made him look for it, heart quickening when he saw her name on it.

Syianne [5:00 pm]

Hey Jake!

How are you doing? I hope you're safe

I patched up a guy today who came in at work. He had a cat too!

Anyway, I don't know why I'm still writing but I hope you're safe and nobody got to you

Why are you so afraid of loving?

Sorry, insensitive question. Ignore that

Waiting for when you come back

...I'm still looking forward to that date

Jake's lips quirked at her messages, warmed by her concern. She had messaged him everyday ever since he went into hiding again. He hadn't replied then, being busy because of his relocation, but now….

In a bold move, very uncharacteristic for him, he messaged her back.

Jake [5:03 pm]

What if I told you that the guy you patched up was me?

Syianne [5:04 pm]

What?

His name was Phil

Oh

Jake waited as she typed and erased, all of it going on for two minutes before she stopped. Jake had a sudden, terrible feeling that perhaps he had made a mistake but soon enough, she replied.

Syianne [5:06 pm]

You're cute in real life as well <3

Jake laughed, amused by her flirty response and decided that perhaps he'd stay there for a few more days.

Syianne [5:06 pm]

What about that date at the Chinese restaurant you promised me?

Jake [5:07 pm]

Does tomorrow work for you? ;)

[disturbedbydesign]

The Widow and the Wolf - Chapter 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x dark!exWidow!reader

Summary: After Natasha Romanoff took down the Red Room, the former Widows scattered to the wind. Raised to be a killing machine and released into the world with nothing and no one, you decided to use your newfound autonomy to take down the bad guys of your choosing. But now Natasha is riddled with guilt for leaving you on your own. She wants to recruit you, rehabilitate you, make you part of a team again. But the rest of the squad has reservations, and no one is more against you than Bucky Barnes.

Warnings: Graphic violence; Mentions of domestic violence, rape, pedophilia, human trafficking, child sex trafficking; eventual Dubcon (not Bucky); eventual smut; slow(ish) burn enemies-to-lovers. [More warnings will be added as necessary but these are the Big Bads.] 18+ only, no minors.

A/N: This is canon-adjacent in that I just decided to pick and choose who I wanted to write for and what parts of canon I wanted to use. Best not to think too hard about where it falls on the timeline because the canon is a mess and we all kind of hate it anyway.

If you prefer to read on AO3, you can do so here.

Chapter One

You’ve been tracking him for days, not that it was hard. His patrol schedule is always the same, as is his after-hours routine: drinks at the Irish pub on Reade Street with the other boys in blue. It’s a cop bar but you waltz right in, looking lost even though you know the name, rank, and various misdeeds of every guy in the place. He looks at you, because of course he does—his wife assured you that he has a wandering eye, among his other sins.

You take a seat at the bar. “Double vodka rocks, please.”

The bartender pours you your drink and you take a deep pull, savoring the burn of it. Then you wait, but it doesn’t take long—it never does. Sergeant Thompson sidles up to the barstool next to you.

“Hey darlin,” he says, his breath reeking of cheap beer. “You lost?”

You turn to him with an innocent smile. “Evening, officer.”

“It’s Sergeant,” he says, tapping his badge, “but I won’t hold that against you. So, what’s a pretty young thing doing in a dive bar with a bunch of old men?”

“I was supposed to meet a friend for dinner but she bailed on me. Figured I’d grab a drink before I head home.”

“And where is home?” he asks, not that it’s any of his business, but cops think they deserve answers to any questions they feel like asking.

“Williamsburg,” you lie.

“You’re pretty far from home, then,” he replies, even though you both know that you aren’t. He takes a sip of his beer and the foam leaves a trace like a mustache before he licks it clean. “It’s late. Why don’t you let me drive you? Wouldn’t want you on the subway this time of night.”

“It’s only 8:30,” you say. “I think I’ll be just fine.”

He leans in conspiratorially. “Well, I really shouldn’t be telling you this—open investigation and all that—but we’ve been on the lookout for a guy in the area, serial rapist, real nasty piece of work.”

That’s one thing the two of you have in common at least.

“I’d feel a lot better if you’d let me take you home, darlin.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” you admit. “Can’t get much safer than the NYPD, right?”

He laughs and so do you, knowing that nothing is farther from the truth—especially when it comes to this guy.

Sergeant Thompson speeds across the Williamsburg Bridge with his flashers on, headed toward the address you gave him. Of course, that’s not actually your address—you don’t have a home anymore—it’s just one of many rundown warehouses in the neighborhood, variously used for impromptu raves and as drug dens and, in your case, a private place in which you can take care of business without fear of being interrupted.

“This is me,” you say, waiting for him to let you out of the back of the cruiser where he insisted you ride—caged in like a helpless animal, or so he thinks.

“This place?” he asks. “Looks like it’s about to collapse.”

“You’d be surprised what they can do to these places on the inside—gentrification and what have you. My rent is astronomical.”

“Still,” he says, “I’d like to walk you up. Looks a bit unsavory.”

“If you insist, Sergeant.”

The second you get up the stairs to the top floor, you inject him with the etorphine, straight into the jugular, and down he goes. It never gets old—how easy it is, when they think that they are the predator and you are the prey. You drag him into the loft where you’re already set up for a long night’s work.

When he comes to, he’s fixed to the chair with (among other things) his own handcuffs, mouth taped shut and a rag shoved in for good measure. You don’t want to hear him talk; it’s time for him to listen. His day of reckoning has come. He starts to squirm but between the cuffs and the duct tape and the sedative still coursing through his veins, he’s not going anywhere. Even if he did get free, you could take him down easy. It’s what you were trained for. It’s what you were born for.

“Welcome back, Sergeant,” you say, and he screams something unintelligible through the rag which, if you had to guess, would be some combination of “cunt” or “bitch” or any of the other choice words he likes to use on his women.

The tarps are laid meticulously around the room, placed strategically to catch any and all evidence of what you’re about to do. When he notices them, he goes still, because he knows. Part of him knows.

“So,” you say, pulling out the Thompson file, “this is quite the impressive resume you’ve got here, Sarge. Lots of civilian brutality complaints, including a few choice allegations from female prisoners. Oh, and then there’s the domestic violence and marital rape. You’re a real charmer, huh?”

There’s more muffled screaming but you ignore it—the last gasps of a dying man.

“Here’s the thing, Sarge. I know you think that you’re above the law, because you are the law, but you aren’t. Your wife is real tired of your shit, and me? Well, let’s just say that my motto is protect and serve.” You lean in close enough to smell the salty sweat on his brow. “And unlike you, I actually mean it.”

You pull your favorite knife from your thigh holster and slit him from ear to ear. “See you in hell, Sergeant.”

You sit on the edge of the table, swinging your legs and watching him bleed out. It doesn’t take long. The actual disposal is the real work. You set about chopping him into manageable pieces and you find yourself missing the days when you didn’t have to cover your tracks alone, when there was a clean-up team to take care of it for you.

But you’re freelance now. You’re not a Widow anymore. She made sure of that.

Sometimes—like right now, when you’re dripping sweat and every muscle in your body is screaming its exertion as you saw through bone after bone—you hate Natasha Romanoff. You know why she did what she did; you understand that, objectively, it was the right thing to do. But did she ever stop to consider the repercussions of her actions? She got out early and found a new family and became one of the Good Guys. But you? You entered the Red Room with nothing and you left with nothing.

They always said you were born to be a killer. It’s all you’ve ever known. So what exactly did she expect you to do? You may be free of the mind control, but you never had the chance to develop a mind of your own. Killing is all you know. At least now you get to pick your own targets.

Once you’ve got Sergeant Thompson all squared away, you pack him up in the trunk of his cruiser and drive upstate, listening to the 80s station you like. It occurs to you that most people have heard these songs a thousand times—so many times that they know the lyrics instinctively, can sing them without even having to think about it. It’s all new to you, though. You can’t decide whether it makes you sad to think about all you’ve missed or whether you’re lucky that you get to experience for the first time what everyone else is already tired of.

When you get to the farm, you dump Thompson in the holes you’ve already backhoed, then you hop on the Cat and fill them all in. You shoot a text to Mrs. Thompson from your burner—just a thumbs-up emoji—and she replies with a smiley face. It was only so long before he would have killed her; she knows it as well as you do. The only people that will grieve the dearly departed Sergeant Thompson are a bunch of assholes who are one false move from ending up in your web.

You didn’t charge Mrs. Thompson your usual rate—just what she could afford without drawing the attention and ire of the Mister. Sometimes, depending on the circumstances, you even work pro bono. After all, you only kill people for money who you would happily kill for free. You consider it a service, something for the greater good of society. You’ll take money, sure—you need it to live and to continue your work—but not from people who can’t easily spare it.

You have standards. You have a code. That’s the difference between the you that served as a mindless weapon wielded by others and the you that decides for yourself how to use the gifts you’ve been given. No women. No children. No collateral damage. Only Very Bad Men who’ve done Very Bad Things. You don’t see the harm in it, not really, and as you settle into bed you come back to the thought you often have before a fitful night of sleep: who’s the real avenger, Natasha?

*****

Natasha wipes her brow and throws the rag down on the mat, grabbing a bottle of water and chugging half of it before she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Bucky has barely broken a sweat from their morning sparring session, and he doesn’t even try to fake it. He’s in an especially grumpy mood.

“This is a bad idea, Natasha.”

“To some people, maybe,” she says, “but I want to bring her in anyway. I don’t understand how you of all people are against me on this, Bucky.”

“Uh, for starters, she’s a serial killer.”

“That’s a bit of a harsh assessment, considering the circumstances. And do I really need to remind you that the same could be said about the two of us? That a lot of people still say that about us?”

Bucky sighs, because he knows she’s right, but this is different—you are different. “It’s not the same,” he grumbles, but he’s not entirely sure it isn’t, and that’s what’s really bothering him.

“Look,” Nat says, taking a step toward Bucky, “I need to try, ok? I know what she’s going through because I went through it, except she’s completely alone out there with nothing and no one. You and I… we had people behind us, helping us.”

“And what if she says no?” Bucky asks. “Are you just gonna let her go on doing what she’s doing? She’s killed… how many is it now?”

Natasha mutters something under her breath and Bucky looks at her expectantly. “What was that, Tasha?”

“25 people in the last 6 months,” she states, her mouth set in a hard line.

“Exactly,” he says.

“I would like to point out that they were all very bad people. So...”

“Tasha,” he says, and he puts his hand up to silence her. “I can’t help you on this. I’m sorry. I want to, but I can’t.”

Natasha huffs out a laugh. “You know what, Barnes? You’re real high and mighty for a guy who–”

Natasha stops herself when she sees the ice-cold look in Bucky’s eyes. “Go on. For a guy who what?”

“Nothing,” she says. “I’m sorry. I’ll go on my own.”

“Well, good luck to you. Hope you don’t get your throat slit.”

Bucky stomps off and Natasha is left wondering if she’s about to make a huge mistake. She knows you’re volatile, that a part of you must resent her, but she needs to make it right. At the very least, she needs to try.

Natasha grabs her tablet and scrolls through the latest intel on your whereabouts. She’s just missed you in New York, but she thinks she’s got a jump on your next target: some coke dealer down in Miami with a predilection for underage girls. Just a brief glance at this guy’s file is enough to make Natasha’s blood run cold. She knows why you do what you do. If she’s honest, it doesn’t bother her one bit that you’re doing it. It’s the thought of you out there on your own, filled with hate and anger and thirsty for bloody vengeance, that frightens her. Because maybe one day—left to your own devices, lost in the chaos of your troubled mind—getting the Bad Guys won’t be enough for you. Maybe you’ll decide that some of the Good Guys aren’t so good after all. Maybe you’ll even be right.

She contemplates being honest with Steve and telling him where she’s headed but decides against it. Steve isn’t on board with her plan. Natasha doesn’t fault him for it—he doesn’t understand, he couldn’t. Bucky, though... that’s a disappointment, and it surprises her. If anyone knows what it feels like to spend your life as someone else’s weapon, it’s Bucky Barnes.

Natasha waits until nightfall to “borrow” the Quinjet, and she finds Bucky waiting for her when she gets to the hangar.

“I’m coming with you,” he says, “but only as back-up. She’s dangerous, Natasha.”

“Maybe so,” Natasha replies, “but only because she’s afraid.”

*****

You knew that she’d be coming for you sooner or later. Might as well get it over with. Your little stilt cabin on the outskirts of the Everglades isn’t quite set up for company but at least it’s tucked away and difficult to access. You’re surprised she brought him, though—that was a mistake. You and she could have a nice long conversation, but you have nothing to say to the Soldat.

You climb up the tree to your lookout platform and hoist your sniper rifle onto your shoulder, following their slow but steady progress through the knee-deep swamp water, trying to line up a decent shot as they weave in between the bald cypress trees. When you see your chance, you take it, and you put one about an inch from where the Soldat’s metal arm meets the flesh of his shoulder. It ricochets off, as intended, and he jumps forward to shield Natasha. You hear her laugh through your earpiece.

“Relax, Barnes. It was a warning shot. If she wanted to hit you, she would have.”

“She did hit me,” he snaps.

You smile as you descend from the tree to meet them.

“Well well well,” you say. “If it isn’t the Murder Twins. To what do I owe this unwanted visit?”

“You know why I’m here,” Natasha says.

“Yes,” you reply, “but why is he here?”

The man she calls Barnes looks at you with disdain and you give it right back to him. You can tell that shot in the arm really pissed him off and it pleases you to no end.

“He’s just watching my back,” she says. “That’s what happens when you’re on a team.”

“Right, The Avengers. How adorable.”

“Listen,” Natasha begins, but you stop her.

“Let me save you the trouble of whatever little speech you have prepared. I’m not coming with you. I’m not going to Widow rehab and joining your ragtag group of misfits. And I’m not going to stop doing my work just because you come here and bat your eyes and smile pretty at me.”

“Your work?” spits the Soldat. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Bucky, don’t-”

“Let him talk, Romanoff,” you say. “He obviously has some… opinions. Now that he’s got the mask off, he can finally speak for himself.” You take a step towards him, your rifle in hand but not pointed at him. “So speak, Soldat.”

He looks flustered and not a little bit angry. You can tell he doesn’t like to be called by that name. “Killing people isn’t work,” he says.

You huff out a laugh. “And what is it that the two of you do, exactly? Run a coffee shop?”

“We are not the same,” he says, and you smile because you know that he doesn’t actually believe that—how could he after everything he’s done?

“I think we are exactly the same, Soldat, with one huge exception: you’re still letting other people tell you what to do, and I’m done with all that.”

“This is pointless,” he says.

“Now that is something you and I actually agree on.” You turn to Natasha. “You should go while you still can. I have work to do.”

But Natasha just won’t let it go. “I should never have left you alone,” she says. “This is my fault. Let me fix it.”

“I don’t need to be fixed,” you snap, and you raise your rifle and point it directly at her head. “Leave, Natasha. And take your little pet with you.”

The Soldat grabs her arm gently. “Let’s go, Tasha. She’s hopeless.”

You feel a pang of something then—some indescribable form of melancholy. You try to keep it off your face but you can tell from the look in his eyes that he sees it. A minute tremble of your lip, the quick double blink—it gives you away, and now you’re really pissed off.

“Leave. Now,” you yell, and it pierces through the sweltering darkness. “I’ll make you sorry if you don’t.”

You watch Natasha and the bionic man make their way out of the swamp. You don’t turn your back on them, not that you think they’ll try to take you by force. That would be unwise and Natasha knows it. Once you’re satisfied that they’re gone, you return to the cabin. The bloodied man in the linen suit lays strapped to the bed where you left him, squirming and shouting around the gag in his mouth.

You have to stop yourself from making this a messy affair, but the anger you feel—at her, at him, at everything—is making it difficult to temper your darker urges. You’re not one for torture, even though this man absolutely deserves it for the horrible things he’s done. You almost give in, but you remind yourself that this is a job—it is work, despite what the Soldat may think—and you have to remain professional.

You grab the man’s file off the desk and pull a chair up next to the bed. “So, Mr. Garcia, where were we?”

CHAPTER TWO >>>

[notasiren21]

26 for Lukanette WIPs please. :)

26. Party Crasher!Luka

I FUCKED UP AND JUST WROTE IT I GUESS???

Party Crasher

-Lukanette oneshot

“You mean to tell me Agreste ditched you? After all that pleading to let him take you to the party for your successful launch line for next season, he’s ditched you?”

“Kagami, don’t kill him.”

“Fine, remind me why I can’t though? This is such an ass move of his if he’s trying to prove he’s the one for you.”

“Because,” Marinette grits out, faking a toothy smile to a work couple that waves from passing, “I want to castrate and kill him myself.”

Kagami laughs roughly in surprise, “Why the castration?”

“So I can fit his small ass into the tightest pair of skinny jeans we have for our tall teenage girls.” The not so stoic girl sips on her wine, pleased with her friend’s rage. “I told him I haven’t been interested since we were 14, but him thinking I’ll forgive him if I even had a silver of interest in dating him? Fuck him.”

“Or,” Kagami drawls, long nails tapping the stem of her glass as she leans to peer over her friend’s shoulder, “You could fuck him instead?”

Mari gasps in offense, “I am NOT trying for a one night stand, no matter what you guys say.”

“No, you little mouse,” she admonishes, fully heartedly agreeing with the sentiment, “I just mean your big and handsome protective snake is here to save the day.”

Marinette’s mind took a second longer to click the pieces together, trying to make sense of Kagami’s nicknames for her friend group, before her heart thudded and she slowly turned.

There, passing by the models who had walked in Marinette’s designs and batted their false lashes at the rockstar, was Luka Couffaine.

Dressed to the nines in a very punk like and sophisticated way that revealed he very much wanted to impress her and did in fact listen to her fashion advice. Black skinny jeans only he could pull off, high top converse and a white button up with a black vest to overlay it. The cheeky and handsome bastard forgoing the tie to leave one too many buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoos.

Oh, on the life of his cat Sass was she proud of him.

And maybe drooling just a little?

He approached her, a sly smile working its way to his lips as he eyed her up and down, eyes shining bright at her black low cocktail that she paired with navy blue heels.

So maybe she sometimes used Luka as a whole for inspiration.

He raised a hand, finger wrapping around a loose curled tendril out of an elegantly messy low bun, “I thought it was the models you were supposed to make the stars of the show.”

“Had I known you were gonna show up, I would’ve worn one of my bests here.”

His hand froze, “This isn’t your best? You tease,” he broke out in a grin. His hand moved further, thumbing at the collection of piercings in her ear he accompanied her with to get years ago. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Well, I’m suddenly glad I can only acknowledge this as awkward and not feel it.” Kagami noted into her class. Her phone buzzed, electing a sigh from her as she began turning. “Have fun, my mother decided to remind me why this wine was a good idea to have before she came.”

She watched her friend walk away, her other -her best friend and other half, remained taking her in and stroking the soft spot under her ear he once claimed with a mark-

The one time they admitted their crushes and strong attraction towards the other the night before he left for tour years ago.

It was the only time Luka had indulged himself in his wants and desires, the only time he had asked to and still provided her with an out. And now he still remains far off in her memories, even as he stands in front of her with that look on his face years later.

“How did you,” she swallows when his soft gaze flicks back up to her eyes with his full attention. “How did you get in? It’s a ticket only event.”

He shrugged, turning to offer her an arm and walk around. “I may or may not have seen Adrien’s post about his mom and dad going to a gala event and him going to see his cousin there. Seems like that took precedence I guess.”

Marinette huffed low, “Félix has been in town for three weeks. Adrien and I had lunch with him the other day.”

Luka stilled as a busboy stopped in front of them, offering them glasses of champagne. Luka’s nose twitched, then his lip as he turned away with a polite smile. Marinette shook her head in turn as well.

“You know you don’t have to pass just because of me, right?”

“Hey, we do this ‘young 20 some year olds unable to drink alcohol’ in solidarity together.” He cracked a smile at that, “Soda is my alcohol.”

“Alright, you can be an honorary member of the alcohol intolerance club.” Luka laughed when she hummed gleefully. “Dork.”

“Nerd.”

“So, back on topic, Adrien just really had no excuse then?”

“Ha, no, even his dad stopped by an hour ago to congratulate me and get press photos done to promote the line. All his son did for me was send a text with a sad face attached to his cancellation.”

“... I can kick his ass, you know?”

“I know, I’m just saving for a rainy day.” She laughed, stepping closer to his side and wrapping both arms around his. “So, the ticket, you party crasher.”

“Right, yeah, I may or may not have called your assistant earlier today to swipe it. I took a guess that she held onto it for safe keeping so-,”

“She’s new, I’m not surprised she just gave it up that easily.” She let Luka guide her into a dance. One hand with painted black holding hers to his chest, the other gently tugging to hold his shoulder before he held her waist.

“Oh, that, that explains a lot now.”

“What?”

He flinched, a nervous glint flashing across his features. “I may or may not have lied about who exactly I was since she didn’t know my name-,”

“Doesn’t listen to your music, already told her the sin she was committing.”

“And who I was to you, specifically-,”

Marinette tilted her head back in a laugh, Luka’s arm tightening to brace her weight, “You said you were my husband, didn’t you?”

He flushes at a memory of once getting a creep off her back a year ago by claiming that very title to her.

“Erm, no, I said I was your boyfriend and may have sold it by saying some pet name and swooning over you just a little,” he watched her eyes go wide then soft, a smile twitching to show. He stepped closer, almost pulling her flush to him, “But if that’s what you want, I can go out and get some marriage certificate?”

She flushed, lips parting and a rush of air passing them.

“Maybe call Jagged up and fly us to Vegas? I mean, we’re both looking good right now, you more so.” Her face went a shade or two deeper. She jumped in surprise when he let go of her hand to play with a tendril again on the right side, tilting her face to press a kiss to her left cheek. “God, you’re such a pretty little thing.”

She squeaked.

“What, what was the pet name?”

“Hm?” He lazily met her gaze, a dream like haze filter over them as he moved her body to sway with his. “Oh, that.”

“What was it?”

Baby, babygirl, beautiful, gorgeous- he may have said more than one.

He gave a slow and wicked grin, twirling her out and back into his chest in a swift and stunning movement as he nudged his nose to hers.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased, smile spreading wider and radiant as she forgot to breathe for a second.

What. A fucking. Tease.

The need for him to make good on his words and looks hit through her hard and reminded her of their one night together that they both never forgotten. And how much she wished that was every night, as long as it ended up with them curled right around each other and love and happiness coaxing them to sleep instead of stress and loneliness.

He watched her steel her gaze, her jaw tightened. He swallowed when her height, now of five feet thanks to heels, straightened and forced him to pull up. A violent shiver rocked through him when both hands held along the back of his neck, one slipping under the collar of his shirt to scratch along the nape.

“Marinette-,” he choked.

“I’m only asking so I can show my reciprocation.” She leaned closer, kicking her shoes off into some corner and standing on his converse that every elder of theirs had eyed in question during the night. He supported her actions fully, of course. Still stepping them around in dance within a fluid motion. “Not gonna tell me, hun?”

He coughed, loudly and looked away from her to catch his breath. Watching adults cheat on spouses everywhere or everyone else minding their own business to stare at models or the shrimp on the tables.

He almost tripped when she wined in protest, her hand gripping his chin lightly and turning it to face her. His eyes were flickering between admiration, lust and love, growing three shades of deeper blue than was possible.

“C’mon, baby, tell me.”

“Baby?” He stammered out in surprise. Teenage Luka was having a fucking field day with this. “Marinette, I was only joking earlier and-,”

“Were you really though?”

“No,” his response was fast and instant, a wince playing at the corner of his eyes and his button nose scrunching in loss of control.

“Hey handsome,” he preened under the nickname passing her lips, even if close to millions called him the same thing, it paid more effect when it was Marinette calling him it. “Tell me why you came tonight.”

His neck was aching from staring down to meet her eyes now that the heels were gone but he let himself down lower to press his forehead to hers. “Because you deserve better than what he gives you.”

The girl stilled, expecting an awkward or a flirtatious remark. “What?”

The rockstar looked away sheepishly, a little ashamed. “I know you’re considering getting with him, but when I heard he was canceling on you I let my jealousy win out and I just wanted to be there for you.” He bit his lip when he felt her tugging his face back in her direction, choosing to resist the pressure. “You have to believe me when I say I came with no ulterior motives other than protecting you from going stag to your own party tonight.”

“You, you came to protect me?”

He shrugged, another small shiver racking through him when her hands moved along and glided across his neck. “And make sure you had a good night. I even asked your mom what you were wearing tonight just so I could make sure my outfit complimented yours to cheer you up.”

She was silent for a minute or so, and he waited, patiently as ever and guiding her to rest her head against his chest as he swayed them.

Luka, doing all the work. Luka, taking matters into his own hands when someone fails her. Luka, going the extra mile to make sure she has a happy memory.

Fuck giving second chances to other people. Luka is the only one to have shown her he’s the most earning of the concept and notion.

She pulls away, feeling the slight reluctance in his arms on her waist before they drop to his side, “Grab my heels.”

He raises a black brow but complies, turning to find them and hooking his fingers in the backs. He eyes them, used to seeing her shoes laying around the Liberty when she comes over or even at her own place, but he always has to remark that, “You have small feet.”

“You’ve also called them cute,” she huffs, tugging on his hand and pulling him near the entrance.

He follows, like they always do for one another. “Because they are- where are we going?” He stops them as they round an empty corridor, away from the hotel’s event room where the party is still very much happening. The heel of his palm grips tight to archway, pressing against it, the small shoes still dangling in his hold.

“Home, your place or mine. Actually, mine’s closer.”

He laughs brightly, “You can’t ditch your own party for another movie night, Mari.”

The petite girl turns to him, a fierce expression in his eyes that makes him swallow harshly. “No, but I can ditch to celebrate in getting what I really want. For finally getting what I want.”

“The Chinese takeout place is closed this time of ni-,”

“You.”

“What?” Luka wheezes, he blinks stupidly at her. Prettily and stupidly. He straightens, freehand tugging at his collar a little like he needs room to breathe. “Come again?”

“I’m going home. I’m taking you with me. And we’re gonna celebrate that I finally got off my ass and got what I wanted.”

He hums, nervously and a bounce starting in his hand, a shake in one hand, his dark brows furrow, “And you want?”

“You.”

“You- you want,” he sucks in a sharp breath, pain flashing across his features as he clears his throat. “You want me?”

Her eyes soften, a smile showing as she steps closer to him and takes his face into her hands, pulling him down to be eye level with her as he braces his weight on the wall next to them with a hand.

“Yes,” he looks awestruck as she giggles. “I want you... can you let me keep you?”

He laughs nervously, “I’ll fucking sell myself to you if that’s what you really want, fuck.”

She’s smiling, leaning up on tiptoes to alleviate the strain in his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips, muffling the undignified noise of surprise that escapes him. She lets him get used to her for a second, kissing him slowly and purposely as starts to eventually overcome the shock and kiss her back in reverence.

He pulls away suddenly, a guilted expression on his face.

“Wait, wait. What about Adrien?”

“What about him?”

Luka fidgets, a quick glimpse of insecurities and jealousy showing to her before he regains a semblance of control after having his walls knocked down. “He’s been trying to go out with you, win you affections.”

He only knows of the situation, but never presses her to talk about it. It’s natural for it to come up in conversation everyday when he asks her about work knowing the stress of being twenty-two in a high end fashion company could be a bit more than overwhelming. He wanted to be a safe place to her since the beginning.

“There’s nothing about him. I’ve shut him down an handful of times and now it’s just a matter of letting him indulge himself in what he thinks are romantic gestures when me saying no doesn’t cut it. There’s nothing going on between him and I, just his belief that my crush from years ago accounts for something today.”

Luka still looks wary and isn’t touching her, most likely his conscious trying to be the better person between him and Adrien by not going out with the girl his friend is pining after.

Even if said girl is Luka’s legitimate best friend and the very same girl he’s been in love with since he was a kid.

Marinette feels like it’s a dirty tactic as she gets closer to him, trying to gauge where it’s jealousy and where it’s insecurity in regards to Adrien.

She presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Luka’s head turns minutely at the attention, tilting less than a centimeter to catch her lips before he catches himself. He struggles when her next kiss falls to his lips and is soft and slow, how he always wants to kiss her.

“Remember our first kiss?” She whispers, wounding arms around his waist and pressing close to him.

He matches her volume, an adoring look winning for a split second, “Of course I remember.”

“Remember our first date?”

“At the ice cream parlor, you wore a pink skirt that kept twirling when you did.” She feels his resolve break a little, his own right to be selfish with her slipping out a little.

His arms slip around her, and he presses a gentle kiss to her temple. “Remember our goodbye at the airport?” His arms tightening around her speak more volumes than his strained, “Yes,” does.

She’s just a little closer to convincing him to stop being so sacrificial with his own wants or needs. She just has to push more.

“Remember waking up in one another’s arms that morning?”

He’s silent for a few seconds, thinking of what he can say in response to that. Wondering how honest to be, “... every day, I think of that morning every day.”

She still hears the clipped apprehension in his voice. That tone she knows so well that’s gonna lead into him giving her advice to rethink this whole decision and talk to him when she’s absolutely sure. How she shouldn’t think on impulse and lunge at what she wants unless she knows she does wanna keep with it.

But, he has to know she always thinks back on moments with him and that she longs to have jumped on impulse if it meant being with him.

Every time he’s showed up with takeout at her place. When he smiles so freely at her. When he bandages her cuts and blisters from working all night long.

When he showed up tonight looking like he had been her dare to begin with. How her heart felt when he admitted to lying to her secretary. The way he looked carrying her high heels that were much too small for his hands but he didn’t care because she asked him to.

How he crashed her own party to make sure she’d have fun tonight.

She’s sure she wants this, him.

All those nicknames they could call each other. All the benefits of dating the other and having a date to everything the other needs to attend. Having her best friend be her boyfriend meaning there’s no holding back from anything.

She’ll cringe about it in the morning, but it’s gotta work to break his long instilled fear of being a bad friend or person. Of being unselfish.

“Do you still remember that night?”

She’s sure he’s stopped breaking by the way his entire body seems to shut down, but then it reboots and he’s shaking against her and can’t seem to breathe correctly, his eyes avoiding hers as he swallows again and looking like he’s willing to risk going into an allergic reaction for the sake of one drink.

“That- that’s not something you forget, Marinette.” His hands are twitching on her waist, grip tightening just a little and a vein is jumping in his arm to do something to prove he remembers alright.

One more push, “Do you still remember how I tasted that night?”

He seizes her waist, lunging to kiss her desperately like he did that night and when he left, a growl passing his lips onto hers. He’s cupping the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair, breathing her in and shaking against her as his resolves breaks completely and the selfish side comes out. The one that’s nowhere near as selfish as the average person, but enough to take in the matter of his own needs and wants. He pulls back, letting her watch his eyes darken, the pupils expanding until the blues are next to near mere ridges of color. He’s watching hers do the same before he nudges her nose and kisses her slowly, more loving and affectionate. His control slipping back into place and resulting in the Luka she so loves regaining the handles of his own mind.

He’s careful in the way he tugs her lip with his teeth, how he coaxes her to let him kiss her fully before pull back and panting against her lips.

“Yes, I remember,” his voice is rough and he has to glance away from her and straighten. She watches him take a few meditative breaths before he looks back at her.

“Does that really help?” She gestures to his chest and mouth, “the breathing?”

He laughs hollowly, “No, not really, but it bought me time to create some distance in this,” he glances around, “Not your apartment place.”

She laughs at the suddenly horrified look that crosses his face, the image of them making out and the threat of almost being caught in public instantly dawning on him. He glares playfully at her.

“You did that all on purpose.”

“Had to, you were just about to give me up for the sake of being a good friend to me and Adrien.” She pauses, a wicked idea forming to prove her point, “Unless, you want Adrien to know what that all is like?”

A dark look crosses Luka’s face; unrestrained bouts of suppressed jealousy, possessiveness and territoriality. “No,” he growls out, eyes squeezing shut and having to clear his throat. “I’d rather not let him know any of that personally.”

“Not even how I taste?”

“Marinette,” he warned, the growl resurfacing. She cooed, wrapping him up in a hug and pressing a kiss to his jaw as an apology. He whined, “It’s not funny when you do that.”

“No, but everything you feel is alright to feel. Don’t hold back for the sake of not being selfish. You can be selfish with me, you’re a reasonable guy and know boundaries.” She sighed, nuzzling further into his warm embrace. “I don’t like Adrien the way he wants me to, and lately, it’s hard to even be his friend. He needs to move on from me. Hell, I’m better friends with Félix now than him.”

“Just hope they don’t switch up on you again.”

She huffed in amusement. “God no, I’d kill them.”

“It’s adorable how how your less than five feet body resorts to violence and death threats.”

“Mm, except you, I’m quite fond of you.” She looks up at him, chin pressed to his chest and smiling when he looks at her softly and presses a kiss to her nose. “This, us, is not an impulse. Just a restrained want I’ve had for awhile.”

“Okay, I understand now.”

She grins cheekily at him, “Or need, if that makes you all possessive hot yet secretly adorable rockstar boyfriend mode again.”

“Boyfriend?” He smiled slowly, radiant as always and heart stopping. “If teenage me could hear you, he’d probably shut down from being overwhelmed.”

“Nineteen year old you certainly didn’t that night,” she mumbles, grinning at the loud bark of laughter that surprises the both of them when Luka throws his head back.

“Yeah, thanks for reminding me what age I lost it at, totally rockstar of me, right?” The blush that’s coating his neck and ears is adorable, a shy smile quirking at her briefly.

“I think it’s sweet, cute even.”

“Yeah, because you’re the one I lost it to.” He deadpanned without conviction. “But, I guess I’ll take being sweet and cute.”

“It’s okay though, I mean, I did the cliché of losing my virginity to someone I was in love with.” Luka does in fact shut down in her embrace hearing that. Hands jittering against her and fingers tapping like he’s trying to speak through notes against her skin.

He takes another minute, before pressing a kiss to her hair. “If this is you confessing your love to me -and believe me, it’s killing me to stop you right now, I’d rather you do it in regards to another topic and not the fact that we were one another’s first time.” He avoids the dangerous smirk aimed his way, or the sharp angle of her cocked, black brow above breathtaking blues. “C’mon, let’s go dance some more and celebrate your success before we leave, maybe find your assistant to introduce me as your boyfriend to.”

She pours at him when he tugs on her hand in the direction of the party. “But-,”

He breathed out shakily, a waning patient look in his eyes and a false smirk aimed at her. “Can I sleep over tonight?”

“Do you want to?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “I’m very close to just following you home at this point, trust me. I don’t care how the night ends, just as long as it’s you and me tonight.”

She’s letting him make them dance again, feeling as the nerves leave his body as he gets them to fall in step with the tempo. He doesn’t care that he has to bend a little ways down to rest his cheek on her hair, not when she’s letting him pull her up against his chest when she typically only reaches the bottom of his rib cage.

They work well together, they fit perfectly together because they’re more than used to the instinctive adapting to one another.

Her hands cup his cheeks, kissing him carefully without reservation and the anxiety, “It was only an impulse at times because I love you and have for awhile.”

Luka deepens the kiss just a little, thankful she’s the type of girlfriend to let him indulge in her as he smiles, “I get it, I’ve had my share of impulsive thoughts for as long as I’ve been in love with you since we were young. I love you, Mari.”

“Enough to crash a party for me, apparently,” she whispered, a little moved by the thought that they were finally together. He thumbed her tears away.

“Enough to kill Adrien or Félix if you ask me to,” he replied in a loving tone, soothing her gasps for air when she broke apart in giggles against his chest in reaction.

He didn’t leave after that night. And he went to every party as her date too.

[vhsghostricks]

Okay, so one of my comfort headcanons is that Celestia and Hiyoko are actually very good friends and have a sisterly kinda dynamic (Celestia also fake adopts Hiyoko and Hiyoko is always like "I'm literally older than you!!!" "Too late, you are my child now". Seeing how Hiyoko's design tends to have cats in it (her little hair bands + her swimsuit), I headcanon she has a special interest for cats and this is kinda how her friendship with Celestia starts. They were both just skipping gym class and ran into each other, and before either can make a witty comment Hiyoko sees Celestia's wallpaper as Grand Bois Cheri and starts gushing over how he's the most handsomest lil guy she has ever seen, and Celestia, the proud cat mama that she is, gets really happy and starts talking about him. From then on, Hiyoko would occassionally have tea parties with Celestia where they would eat desserts, gossip, and most importantly gush over pictures of Grand Bois Cheri.

They grow to be very close and sisterly (even if Hiyoko won't admit that last part), so when they each get girlfriends, they are playfully protective. When Hiyoko is first introduced to Kyoko, she looks Kyoko up and down and quickly declares out loud that she was a nerd. Hiyoko was more protective than Celestia was with Mahiru, partially because Kyoko and her really struggled to connect as they were both socially awkward introverts. Kyoko tried talking about school and life a few times, but the questions would come out awkward and Hiyoko would just give brief responses, meanwhile Celestia would sip her tea and be like "they are both dumbasses"

This tension though doesn't last forever, as about two weeks after their first meeting, they go to Celestia's house as they were both invited to a tea party and end up finding Celestia a mess and crying. Celestia had lost Grand Bois Cheri and didn't know where to find him, so Hiyoko and Kyoko obviously stayed with her to help find him.

Hiyoko then really observes how thoughtful and precise Kyoko is as a person. She saw how Kyoko knew how to comfort Celestia, soothing and reassuring her without suffocating her or feeding her false hope. She held Celestias hand a bit and gave her a hug once or twice, but she made sure to be aware of Celestia's need for space while distraught. Hiyoko could tell how much Kyoko really cared and paid attention to Celestia through this, and then she was impressed (albeit shell never admit it) when Kyoko used her deduction skills and found some clues as to where Grand Bois may have run off to. Hiyoko couldn't help but see Kyoko in a different, more admirable light after that. How could she not when Kyoko clearly cared deeply and had the skills to protect sister friend.

They end up finding Grand Bois Cheri at the neighborhood park with Kokichi, who was working with Tsumugi, Maki and Kirumi to make Grand Bois Cheri a matching sweater to one they got Celestia for her birthday. Turns out he left a note saying he took the cat a bit for a surprise, but it fell under a drawer so nobody saw it. Celestia was just happy to have Grand Bois back (and in an adorable outfit), but both Hiyoko and Kyoko teamed up to give the others a piece of their mind and told them to text her next time. Later that night, the three watch a movie where Celestia falls asleep while cuddling Grand Bois Cheri, and Kyoko and Hiyoko are giggling at her for it. They then tall about the stress of the day and how they are relieved everything's okay, and then Hiyoko admits to Kyoko "you aren't so bad... for a nerd that is". They end up talking a bit more, taking a few pictures with Celestia sleeping with her cat in the background, and then they call it a night. Since that day, Hiyoko and Kyoko have had a way better friendship, and sometimes team up to tease Celestia affectionately. Hiyoko also babysits Grand Bois Cheri with Mahiru when Celesgiri has date nights!

This is getting long so I'll stop here and send the other one in another ask ajsvsk, hope you like this one tho ^_^ - 💙💖 anon

WAHHHH YES YES YES I LOVE LOVE LOVE HIYOKO AND CELESTE FRIENDSHIP it's literally just my favorite character, and my bff's favorite character being friends ,,, crying this is perfect

once Hiyoko n Celeste get closer, Hiyoko asks Gundham all about how to take care of cats cus she is DETERMINED to meet Grsnd Bois mmhm yes yes.

Hiyoko starting to make friends with Kyoko too ... that would be great cus i think they'd make really funny banter!! Kyoko makes one (1) dad joke and Hiyoko goes all out with the jokes and Kyoko is just cracking up <3 <3 <3

THANK U FOR THESE i will answer the next one in a second too >:) i love ur hcs so much