#there are more i want to see that i haven't yet

[zanarkandfayth]

I'm just answering these because I want to, and skipping the ones that wouldn't be relevant or I don't feel like answering lmao

01. How many fics have you worked on since January? Hmm, five? I finished the Noct & Gladio one, I've been working on the rewrite of the aftermath one, I started the one inspired by @quartzguts fic Lost Signal (go fucking read this if you haven't), I did some more backstory for the college au, and I edited the secret one.

02. What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? I've been trying to do a sliiiightly closer POV than before. I think it came out nicely enough in the Noct & Gladio fic. Definitely a challenge for me though.

05. What ships captured your heart? Ignoct still has my heart forever and always, but I've definitely had a growing fondness for Gladnoct. More platonic than romantic but I don't mind the romantic.

07. Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year? I mean I guess the Noct & Gladio fic is the first time I've written a fic centered on the two of them. I thought about writing a fic for Sword AF, and for Breath of the Wild, but I didn't. I'm unlikely to for either fandom, tbh. Too many for ffxv to focus on.

08. What fic meant the most to you to write? Aftermath fic, even though I'm not finished with it. I've been basically writing it since 2019 and it's the most in-depth fic I've ever written and I've put so much fucking work into it and it's over 600K I'm super proud of it even if it's slowly killing me and the fandom will be 100% dead by the time I'm done.

09. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on? college au, my self-indulgent beloved. I have no idea if I'll ever successfully write you, but I love you nonetheless.

10. What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing? lmao I only finished the Noct & Gladio one so I guess that by default.

11. What fic was the most difficult to write? the one inspired by Lost Signal. I have it all plotted out and I'm excited to write it but fuuuuck when I tried back in the summer it was not cooperating. and then writer's block just came knocking in general. I've got one finished chapter and I low-key hate it so I'm trying to ease back into things with working on my rewrite of aftermath fic before I attempt this fic again.

12. What fic was the easiest to write? I mean the Noct & Gladio one was pretty easy to write once I kicked my own ass and stopped procrastinating on the battle scene lol.

14. What were your go-to writing songs? I like to listen to a lot of EDM stuff. Especially Industrial but other stuff too. KMFDM, Assemblage 23, Lost Signal, Neuroticfish, Rotersand, Seabound, Lionhearts, Covenant, Wolfsheim, Acretongue, Michael FK... I also listened to Linkin Park and the Ori and the Blind Forest soundtrack.

15. What was the hardest fic to title? only two fics got titled this year... the secret one I ain't sharing lmao and the Noct & Gladio one, which was actually hard to title. Ameliorate. It fits but I kinda hate it ngl. I couldn't think of anything better. I still can't. It's whatever.

16. What's your favorite title of the year? the secret one. I'm so mean for it but as soon as I was done editing I knew I HAD to make that the title. I'm sorry my beloved blorbo. it was just too perfect lmao. one of my mutuals knows what I'm talking about XD it's all good.

21. What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story? my ass in 2019: I already wrote a lot of Noct dissociating in Under Grey Skies, I don't need to do it in aftermath fic. my ass in 2024: huh, Noct doesn't dissociate enough in this fic. soooo I guess now that's gonna be a thing. it has very much changed the story, several scenes have been changed/added for it and I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with it yet but that's why I'm writing without posting for now. wasn't expecting to do it but we'll see what happens.

22. What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand? no to by hand, I only sometimes do that for notes/plotting. I use scrivener <3333 I bit the bullet at the start of this year and used the money I had left from selling my car/after buying a freezer to upgrade to scrivener 3 and though I miss some things from scrivener 1, I mostly like it. I've gotten a lot more into the organisational features and it's been a godsend for making the rewrite of aftermath manageable.

25. How did you recharge between fics? Killed myself 100%ing breath of the wild. including all 900 fucking korok seeds. and then started playing tears of the kingdom with the intention of 100%ing that too but fuck me upgrading the armour was such a fucking slog even with duping diamonds for rupees and I still don't even have all of the sets collected and the koroks are more annoying this time and hhhhhhh I went back to fic to recharge from that fucking game.

28. If this were an awards show, who would you thank? @ivorydice for letting me endlessly ramble about my fics and helping me with plotting some of them. @quartzguts for writing an amazing fic that has inspired me with one of my own that I will write and finish eventually hrgh. @smallest-turtle for also letting me ramble that one time and for stabbing me in the heart with painful headcanons that made me think more about my own. literally anyone who's read my fics regardless of whether they've left kudos or comments or bookmarked them. anyone who talks to me. anyone who likes my venting as support. all my mutuals for being my mutuals even if we've never had a single interaction.

29. What's left on your to-do list for 2024? to just keep pecking away at the rewrite of aftermath fic. by the end of today I should have 38 of 62 chapters rewritten... send help T^T

30. What would you like to write next year? I just wanna finish aftermath fic for the love of god. pls. also the fic inspired by Lost Signal, and I'd like to maaaaaaaybe (big maybe) write a companion fic to the Noct & Gladio fic, showing Ignis & Prompto's hunt, but I don't actually have any ideas for it rn. so we'll see.

A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!

How many fics have you worked on since January?

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

What ships captured your heart?

What characters captured your heart?

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

What fic was the most difficult to write?

What fic was the easiest to write?

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

What were your go-to writing songs?

What was the hardest fic to title?

What's your favorite title of the year?

Share your favorite opening line

Share your favorite ending line

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share your funniest line

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

How did you recharge between fics?

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

What would you like to write next year?

[un-creativename]

Yule Ball

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It was the year 1994, almost four months from that dreadful day at the Quidditch World Cup. Almost four months since she broke things off with Fred after one too many comments from his mother about her and her family.

“What a coincidence seeing you here, Malfoy.”

Clearly, Fred Weasley did not get the memo.

“Coincidence?” She repeats as she raises an eyebrow in a mix of annoyance and suspicion. “The castle has seven stories and yet I’m expected to believe our meetings are pure coincidence?”

“Like I said, coincidence.”

The cocky smirk on his face should’ve aggravated her but after a year of their secret little tryst, she’d reluctantly grown fond of it. But she wasn’t naive by any means, Fred was as cunning as a Slytherin most times—a statement that he very quickly feigned offensive to when she mentioned it. There was no way he kept finding her on accident.

“How do you keep finding me, Weasley?”

“I have my ways,” He grins with a shrug. “But that’s besides the point, what’s this I hear about you hanging out with Pucey? I thought you didn’t socialize with your former affairs.”

Now that piece of information she wasn’t surprised he’d known about, not when most eyes were on her due to the Yule ball being just weeks away. “I’m speaking to you, aren’t I?” She mutters as she attempts to move past Fred.

As she tries to walk away, Fred swiftly blocks her path with a mischievous glint in his brown eyes. “Oh come on now, you know I’m different from him,” he teases as he moves to stand in front of her. “You actually love me.”

As they stood in front of each other, she felt a mix of frustration and longing wash over her. Fred seemed to have a skill at getting under her skin, despite how hard she fought to keep herself in check. She’d taken the plunge into a relationship with him early in their fifth year, something she didn’t or rather couldn’t find in her to regret.

“I loved Pucey.”

Fred's gaze softened slightly, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. He knew her well enough to sense when she was putting up walls. “Right,” he drawls, not at all convinced by her response. “Is that why you broke up with him after three months of being together? Because if we do that math, love, we were together for almost seven months more than you and Pucey. Wonder what that must mean?”

She rolls her eyes, trying to mask the way her heart skips at the reminder of their secret rendezvous. “It means you’re insufferable and persistent, Weasley. But now that’s over, so it’s high time we move on, don’t you think?”

Fred's jaw tightens at her words, his usual playful demeanor slipping for just a moment. "Move on?" he echoes, taking a step closer until she can feel the warmth radiating from him. "Tell me honestly, Malfoy, have you managed that yet? Because I haven't.”

His words hang heavy in the air, and she finds herself unable to look away from his eyes. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes that she hasn’t seen since they broke up the day after the World Cup. She’s desperate to ignore the heartache that passes through her. “The Yule Ball is weeks away, it’s the perfect chance to move on. For the both of us…”

Fred's expression hardens at her words, his hands clenching at his sides. "Right, because that's exactly what you want, isn't it? To watch me take some other witch to the ball while you go with someone daddy dearest picked out for you.”

She flinches at his words, the truth in them stinging more than she'd care to admit. "That's not fair and you know it," she says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“No, what’s not fair is that you broke up with me without even giving me a chance to defend you against my mum’s accusations.”

Her breath catches in her throat at the raw pain in his voice. She wants to tell him that it wasn't just his mother's words that drove her away, but the crushing realization of how doomed their relationship really was. The thought of watching him defend her against his own mother, potentially fracturing his family relationships, had been too much to bear.

She closes her eyes briefly, fighting back the emotions threatening to spill over. "I couldn't watch you lose your family over me. We both know how this story ends – a Malfoy and a Weasley, it's like some tragic tale waiting to happen. We would’ve broken up eventually…”

Fred's hand suddenly shoots out to grasp her wrist, his touch gentle despite the intensity in his eyes. "So you're telling me you'd rather live with 'what-ifs' than fight for us? That's not the fierce witch I fell in love with." His words hang in the air between them, heavy with unspoken emotions and possibilities.

“Yeah well, that witch you fell in love with has a family filled with blood supremacists. So forgive me if I didn’t think we’d last for much longer anyway. So, please—and you know I don’t say that often—just let me go.”

The silence between them stretches, heavy with unspoken words and shattered dreams. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper, “If that’s what you want, fine—but don’t expect me to pretend I don’t still love you when I see you at the ball with whoever your dad chose.”

୨ ✦ ୧

The Great Hall was decorated in its finest Christmas splendor, ice sculptures glistening under the enchanted ceiling. Her burgundy dress robes swished softly against the floor as she danced with Robert Hoglund, a Durmstrang student her father had chosen for her. She couldn’t help but scan the crowd, inevitably landing on a head of ginger hair. Fred was dancing with Angelina Johnson, his usual cheerful smile in place, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. When their eyes met across the dance floor, she looked away quickly, tightening her grip on Hoglund’s shoulder. The music swelled around them, but she barely heard it over the thundering of her own heart. As Hoglund led her through another turn, she caught a glimpse of Fred whispering something in Johnson’s ear, making her laugh.

She forced herself to look away, reminding herself that this was how things had to be. The weight of her family name felt heavier than ever on her shoulders as she continued to dance with Hoglund, mechanically following the steps she’d been taught since childhood. Each twirl seemed to move her further away from what her heart wanted, but closer to what was expected of a Malfoy.

“Miss Malfoy?” Hoglund called in his thick accent, pulling her from her thoughts. “Would you like to take a step outside? You seem…distracted.”

She forces a polite smile, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Fresh air would be lovely, yes,” she responds, allowing him to lead her towards the entrance. As they walk, she can’t help but feel Fred’s gaze burning into her back, and she silently curses herself for still being so aware of his presence.

The cool night air hits her face as they step out into the courtyard, providing temporary relief from the stifling atmosphere inside. She takes a deep breath, trying to clear her mind of the ginger haired twin. Hoglund stands beside her, maintaining a respectful distance that annoyingly makes her miss Fred’s casual invasions of personal space even more.

Hoglund clears his throat, drawing her attention back to him. “You know,” he starts with hesitation, his accent thick with uncertainty. “I can tell your heart isn’t in this. Perhaps we should call it a night?” The suggestion, though politely delivered, carries a layer of understanding that makes her relax.

She nods, feeling a mix of relief and shame at his perceptiveness. “Thank you for understanding,” she manages, her voice barely above a whisper. As Hoglund bows and turns to leave, she catches a flash of movement near the entrance to the Viaduct courtyard, and she hates the way her heart stutters when she recognizes that familiar silhouette lingering in the shadows.

Fred steps out of the shadows, the moonlight catching his features in way that makes her unable to look away from him. His dress robes are slightly disheveled, his bow tie loose around his neck. “You had me worried for a second there, Malfoy. What’s a bloke too think when the witch he loves leaves a ball with another guy?”

She stares at him, her heart racing at his sudden appearance. “You should be with your date,” she whispers. The moonlight casts shadows across his face, making it harder for her to maintain her resolve as she takes another step towards her.

“She’s more interested in George, which is great for me, I’m more interested in blond Slytherin witches anyway.”

She hates the way her heart flutters at his words, once again putting her mind and heart at war. “Must you be so persistent?" she asks, wrapping her shawl tighter when a cold breeze blew past, trying her best to feign annoyance though she’s sure he doesn’t believe her.

“You love me for it,” Fred replies, taking another step closer until they’re merely inches apart. His fingers brush against her arm, and she can’t help but shiver–though whether from the cold or his touch, she’s not entirely sure.

Her gaze flickers down to his lips before she can stop herself, fully aware of the twitch of a smile he does when he notices. “Freddie,” she whispers, his name a warning and a plea all at once, but he’s already leaning in, his forehead resting against hers. In this moment, with the distant sounds of the ball fading into the background noise, she finds her carefully constructed walls beginning to crumble a lot faster than she would’ve hoped. “Why’re you so hard to get rid of?”

“Because you’re impossible to forget,” he murmurs against her lips, his hands coming up to her face. “And clearly you don’t want to get rid of me yet, you would’ve hexed me by now if you did.”

She lets out a shaky breath, her resolve weakening with every passing second. The familiar warmth of his touch, the sound of his voice so close to her–it was all becoming too much to resist. Before she even realizes what she’s doing, she’s tilting her head up, closing the gap between them as their lips meet in a kiss that feels like coming home.

Time seems to stand still in this moment, the world around them fading into nothing but background noise. His hands thread through her hair, careful not to disturb the intricate updo she'd spent hours perfecting, while her fingers grip the lapels of his dress robes. When they finally break apart, both slightly breathless, she can see the familiar mischievous glint returning to his eyes.

“Fancy a trip to the Room of Requirement? Because personally, I think a certain Princess owes me a dance.”

She can’t help but laugh, the sound mixing with distant echoes of the ball. “Contrary to Draco’s behavior, Malfoys aren't really royalty,” she says, but she’s already reaching for his outstretched hand.

Fred’s grin widens as he tugs her closer. “Well you’re royalty to me,” he says, pressing a quick lingering kiss to her temple. “Now come on, I’m owed a dance after bravely watching you dance with some Durmstrang git for over an hour.”

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©un-creativename : All rights reserved. Do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms.

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[saturnianoracle]

I AM SO SICK OF POP CULTURE BS MODERN ASTROLOGY , LORD FREE ME FROM THE SHACKLES OF HAVING TO READ THESE SELF ASSURED MODERN TAKES.

If I have to see one more comment or post relying on the ABC house system or modern rulerships I'm gonna crash out fr. What a tragically bastardised ancient art astrology has become.

If you really want to understand and appreciate astrology, you must understand it's context and the richer symbolic meanings behind its foundations (e.g. thema mundi, trad rulership and by extension reevaluating your understanding of the planets and signs, dignities, whole signs, Egyptian terms, chaldean decans, lots etc). This is especially vital for predictive work e.g electional and horary astrology.

Not everything modern is bad, i use many modern things myself. But better discernment is needed in order to separate misinformation and deep misunderstanding from something that is genuinely pertinent, and learning traditional (e.g. hellenistic astrology) can help with this. You have to let go of overly subjective interpretations from 'working backwards on a chart analysis and seeking confirmation bias , and you have to let go of default modern premises which you probably never questioned. Trust me, I learnt the hard way. There are a few things which I didn't agree with in hellenistic astro when I first started just because I couldn't relate it to myself or others...rookie error fr💀🤡🤡

Nothing is more freeing than taking the long and initially confusing plunge into the "scary complex" og astrology that is traditional astrology. Especially when you're trying to unlearn so much bs which you dont even think is bs at first. But it is so worth it. Once you properly understand the foundations of it , it becomes so much clearer to see the implications of these nonsense modern takes.

I've been super busy lately and suffering from my lack of executive function so I haven't written as many posts as I'd have liked to yet. But more will come eventually🤞. In the meantime, some extremely helpful resources to get started:

- Chris Brennan / The Astrology Podcast (his books are also good apparently)

- On The Heavenly Spheres: A Treaty on Traditional Astrology by Helena Avelar & Luis Ribeiro (pdf of this is easy to find online. Very solid primer into trad astro)

- Astrology and the Authentic Self , and Ancient Astrology in Theory and Practice , both by Demetra George

- Sevenstarsastrology.com - an absolutely fantastic blog writer who deep dives into plenty of traditional topics. E.g. 12th parts , antiscia , arabic lots, and some more basic things too. Long articles/lessons but extremely extremely informative. Genuine goldmine.

- Patrick Watson, he alao writes some brilliant articles too. His article on the ABC house system was especially useful in getting me out those trenches.

- @/illuminiah , @/0degreestaurus, @/ellieremotigue, @/saturnandhoney, @/ilanastrology, @/bloodyjupiter_ are all just a few tiktok accounts off the top of my head which have been very helpful in helping me unlearn modern shit.

- www.skyscript.co.uk

- Nightlightastrology on Youtube / Adam Elenbaas

- Lee Lehman is especially good for horary and electional according to my horary-specialised friends

- Robert Hand

- u_StellaGraphia on reddit posts some amazing explanations (in comment sections usually) , really helpful stuff

- stop reading costar, cafe astrology, astroseek, etc interpretations :)

[sweetflanfiction]

Assymetrical Symphony - Part 11

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

A.N: I am going on a little vacay and I'll probably won't be able to update it as regurlarly, but I'm going to try and schedule this chapter and another one. Good news is more time to write :D

A.N. 2: Apparently the tags have not been wroking. If you asked to be tagged and haven't been, let me know!

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10

• ··········· • ············ •

It was the morning of the day after Viktor had come to the penthouse and taken a twelve-hour power nap. 

You walked into the kitchen with a yawn that stopped abruptly when you saw the three people in the room. Two of its usual occupants: your mother, Wyllah, but also a very tired Jayce. Your eyes shifted between your mother and the tanned man on the table, hunching sheepishly as he sipped from a mug filled with coffee to the brim.

“Jayce?” Your tone is a mix between a welcome and a question, not even bothering to call him by his title.

He mumbled his reply, and you looked back at your mother and Wyllah. They both gave a sad smile and a shrug.

“You left the lab.” You began, trying to get him to talk, and he nodded. 

His hair was unkempt, and his beard was starting to emerge, meaning he probably had not even been home yet.

“I needed to find Viktor.” He said, not looking up from the mug. “Your mother found me halfway out of the Academy.”

“I left one of my security guards at the lab door,” Wyllah explained proudly. “No one is getting in unless we say so.”

“Thank you.” Jayce said, still looking at his reflection.

“Did you two argue?” You asked, knowing the answer.

Viktor would have never just walked out of the lab, leaving his best friend behind, and Jayce wouldn’t look half as dejected if they had parted ways amicably. Although Viktor had probably already gotten over the argument, Jayce liked to mull over it. 

“How…?” he asked. “Wild guess…” you answered.

He sighed, putting his head on his head, finger digging into his unkempt hair.

“What was it about?” You inquired, pouring yourself a cup of coffee, even though you could also guess the subject.

“What do you think?” He snapped, and you sat down in front of him at the booth, grabbing a cookie from the plate one of the older women had placed on the table.

“The great mystery of Runeterra.” You grinned, and he just stared at you, eyes narrowed. “I know it was about the council shenanigans, but what was it specifically about? Gods know you two can fight about a fleck of dust in the window.”

Jayce looked at you and was about to retort but closed his mouth and looked at his coffee before sighing and reopening his mouth.

“I told him I want to give the Hextech freely to the council in exchange for keeping us there as engineers for it, no matter what. I would rather be there to stop them from screwing up than have it destroyed or sold to someone else.” He sighed. “Viktor would rather grab everything and run as far as he can to keep it safe.”

You smiled softly at him gently and touched his white-knuckled hand on the mug. He relaxed his grip and looked at you.

“You can both be right, you know.” “I know, but it’s not that I want to be right… It’s just…” he scoffed, frustrated, looking at the window. “He has stood up for so long, taken so many beatings from topside, kept a straight face throughout everything we’ve ever been through; he has made his mark in this world whether he signs on it or not… And now he wants to run? It feels like a step backward.”

“You both know what hunger feels like, what a wind so cold that seeps through your clothes feels like in your bones. You both know how it is to have nothing and then have everything.” Jayce looked at you both confused and interested. “The difference is Tallis; he knows what happens when you just wait and watch. You get eaten by the big fish eventually. He stood up so many other times because he knew you’d have his back. But right now both your backs are against the wall, and there will be no sorcerer to help you escape the storm.”

There was silence in the kitchen as Jayce searched your eyes for answers all the while trying to assimilate what you said about Viktor.

“How…?” He asked again. “Your past and my present aren’t that different.” 

His eyes widened for a second, and he was about to start talking again when you shook your head.

“Discussion for another time and place.” 

He nodded, still reeling but quieted down when the telltale sounds of a cane making its way to the kitchen were heard.

“What do I say?” “Nothing…” you whispered back. “He is your friend Jay. He understands the same way you do…deep down…”

Viktor was also stifling a yawn as he made his way to the kitchen, stopping mid-stride just as you did when he saw the other man in the kitchen. 

“Jayce?” He puzzled, eyes still blinking the sleep away. “Hey, buddy! You got me worried there for a second.” Jayce got up from the table and walked towards him, scratching the back of his neck. “Listen…I’m sorry if I said something I shouldn’t.”

Viktor blinked a couple of times and gave him a nod and a smile.

“Do not worry, Jayce. I understand.” He patted the bigger man’s arm and limped to the small breakfast nook, where you sat.

“Thank you, Madame Rainemour, for the hospitality.” He smiled at your mother, and she smiled back. “I don’t think I had any say in it this time, but you're welcome, my dear.”

He shifted his eyes to you, and you shrugged.

“You looked like exhaustion and tiredness had a child and left it out in the rain.” You paused and raised an eyebrow, conveying you were joking. “No offense…”

“None taken.” He smirked and grabbed a cookie from the plate.

“Well,” your mother clapped, and everyone’s eyes turned to her, you noticing a small grin on Wyllah’s face. “Since everyone is now sort of awake and looking less dejected…I have a plan…” “A plan?” Jayce asked, leaning against the door frame. “A plan.” Wyllah repeated. “Should I be scared?” Viktor asked, and both older women shook their heads in sync. “That makes me scared.” “Alright, you two... out with it...” You motioned with your head for the ladies to sit and talk.

Your mother started to explain what she had been doing yesterday after she left you and Viktor. Esther had put on her detective’s hat and gone to investigate the ins and outs of whatever was happening with the Hextech vs. Council situation.

She found that the council was going to make the decision to take control of Talis Lab and Hextech in a week or so, with Councilor Salo spearheading the efforts, being the one that seemingly had lost more in the rocket attack.

He had announced to all of those who wanted to hear him about the dangers of the usage of hextech by those who wanted the worst for Piltover. The topsiders had clutched their pearls and agreed he was right and that the council, the voice of all citizens of Piltover, needed to seize control of the tech.

Jayce bonked his forehead on the door frame where he was leaning, and Viktor rolled his eyes.

“I’m starting to see the beauty of him as a stain on the hex gate’s floor…” you mumbled, munching on a cookie. Viktor looked at you questioningly, and you shrugged him off. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Do not despair, my dears; as I’ve noted, I have a plan.”

Between her and Wyllah, the plan was laid out in front of the three of you. Your mother would rally up all of the investors and get them to stop the tech from falling into the council’s hands. It seemed simple and very straightforward, but knowing the Topsiders, there will be money exchange and drama and fights. Something your mother seemed very willing to do.

Both of the scientists had nodded in agreement to whatever your mother had put on the table, and you realized how much trust they all had in each other. The universe had to find a way to make up for you not being here. It had put your mother in their path so they could have her instead of you. It hurt as much as it elated you. 

“And what do we do in the meantime?” Viktor asked, breaking a cookie in half. “Well, we will need Jayce’s assistance.” Esther pointed at the broader man. “His place as a councillor and one part of the Hextech team will help us get to certain people. But I don’t think that would be your cup of tea, so you can keep securing the lab and the projects, making sure nothing ends up being shown to prying eyes.” “Are they allowing us to work?” Viktor asked Jayce. “No. No hextech projects are allowed to go forth.” Both men sighed. “I’ll stay in the lab with Viktor. I don’t want to get mixed up in that crowd again…” “Again?” Jayce raised his eyebrows, and you matched the expression.

After a while of discussing and more planning, between calculation and scheduling, your head was about to burst, so you excused yourself for a bathroom break and walked to the living room. You sat on the chair that wasn’t Viktor’s favorite place on earth and, drowning out the noise from the kitchen, felt the sunshine on your face.

You jumped at Jayce’s voice calling your name right next to you.

“Holy blue balls of Hextech.” You mumbled, putting your hands on your heart and leaning back on the chair. “Oh, so that’s where it comes from…” Jayce joked. “Sorry…” “Don’t worry about it.” You looked up at him, leaning your elbows into your knees.

“About that thing you said before.” Jayce took a deep breath. “I never told that to anyone but Viktor, and I know he would never tell anyone…” “Like I said, your past is my present. I was snapped here the same way you were.” “Yeah, I got it the first time. I’m as smart as the other co-creator of Hextech, believe it or not.” He grinned. “How? I have searched and researched high and low to figure out why it happened to me, and I never found the answers. Did he appear to you too? The mage? Did some runes in the sky and…new place, new you?”

You shook your head and looked at your hands. He was taking this considerably well, which made sense since he had also lived through something similar.

“I don’t know how it happened; I was there one second and here the next.” “That’s why you ran to the council room; you did know what was gonna happen.” He frowned, his eyes searching the air for connections. “Were you in the council room? Or in the Undercity?”

“I was in the lab when it happened. All was quiet, and then…boom…”  “What changed?” Jayce asked, and you shook your head. “I’m not going to tell you. Not all of the details. You…from there…lived it…you felt it…If I tell you, it might make you do something that would lead to the same path, and…I can’t go through that again.”

He nodded, understanding that the addition of knowledge to a situation can drastically change the outcome. You looked at his wrist, the leather band secured tightly around it and the teardrop-shaped gem encased in it. Stretching your arm, you grabbed his hand, turning it palm up. The rune was different. 

Jayce also grabbed your hand and turned it palm up. A different rune was carved there, not glowing since you had spent most of the night remaking the star rune in case Viktor woke up. You looked up at him and sighed, his eyes searching for answers.

“I think the technical term is Rune Speaker…” You smiled at him, finding amazement in his eyes.

• ············ •

It didn’t take the group long to have a sort of guarding schedule around keeping the stuff in the lab from prying eyes. Because it was involved in council business, the boys couldn’t work there, but they refused to leave anything unsupervised. And that’s why they had looked like exhaustion itself.

Between the two of them, yourself and some of Wyllah's personal security, it was manageable, although Salo had shaken his fist at having the unknown guards at the door. To which your mother promptly told him she had more money invested in that lab than he could count; she was merely securing her investment.

Your endeavor to enter the orchestra was still in full swing, so you took the time at the lab to write out some of the music you were composing. You had an outline of the piece, but it needed tweaking and cleaning up.

You were not a composer. You hated writing your music. It felt strained. You’d rather just sit at the piano and play something from the top of your head. You were good at that. This was hell for you.

Groaning, you laid your forehead on the cold lab table and groaned. A hand patted your arm, and instinctively you jumped back as far as you could.

“Eh. It’s just me, good old Viktor.” the scientist announced, limping around you and placing a cup of tea and something wrapped in a cloth on the table. “One of those days, huh?”

He sat down next to you and peered at what you were doing. 

“Looks complicated.” He said, taking a book out of his shoulder bag, and you look at him sideways, glaring at the man. You pointed to the chalkboard that now has a sheet covering it and raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve seen what you do…” you mumbled. “Numbers. I crunch numbers. Calculation and variants. It’s easy. I see them in my mind. Some are more complicated than others, but… It’s easy. This…?” He touched the clean sheet of music and made a negative sound with his throat. “Cannot comprehend.”

“Remind me to teach you the scale at some point. My mother is catching on pretty quickly. I fear she might get the position faster than me.” “Position?”  “I’m trying for the orchestra. I’ve learned that being a stay-at-home Piltie is not for me.” “Piltie?” He frowned at the nickname the Zaunites gave the topsiders. “How very uncivilized of you.” 

You both chuckled at his joke, and he nudged your shoulder in a friendly manner. He mentioned the wrapped thing with his chin, and you grabbed it. A small little cake was inside. A round little creamy thing with a slice of strawberry on top.

“Don’t expect much.” He said, opening his book. “It’s from the Academy’s cafe.”

You took a bite out of it. It was a little dry, but it was sugar, and you welcomed the feeling of something sweet in these desperate times.

“Where's Jayce?” You asked after you finished with the pastry. “I thought he was supposed to come with you.”

Viktor took a sip of his cup of tea and shook his head, rolling his eyes in the process.

“Councilor Medarda asked to see him.” He scoffed. “Confraternizing with the enemy, more like it.” “Spending time with his significant other.” you corrected, smiling when he made a ‘yeah yeah’ face.

Silent took over the lab while the two of you both got entranced by your tasks; only the scratching of pens on paper was heard. It was a friendly silence, with both of you sitting close enough that your knees would bump occasionally. Sometimes you would hum the melody you were writing, and he would stop writing to listen to it.

After a while Viktor stretched, moving his arms up to the ceiling. You looked at him and mimicked the movement but stretched your arms in front of you. The two loud ‘aahs’ of pleasure came from both of you in sync, making you both snort.

“I have been thinking…” Viktor began relaxing on the table, his shoulder hunching over. “The other day, you kept having to remake the rune.”

“You noticed?” You looked away from him, slightly embarrassed. “I thought you were sleeping.” “I caught you once or twice. It was a nice gesture, so I kept quiet. In any case, you had to keep redoing it. And well, we have had the same problem with the cores.”

“Vik…” you warned, but he raised his hand, stopping you.

“I know, but technically I am not using your magic for Hextech; I’m using Hextech for your magic. We solved that problem by introducing an artificial rune to the process.” He drew two squares touching on one corner, a crude infinity symbol. “That sustains the power of the core indefinitely. If we work at this the same way we work with Hexcore, your rune ‘push’ simply means you have no other inputs to add to it, and that means that inputs can be added.”

You remembered the rune circle in the council chambers. Going by what Viktor was saying, it made sense; the magic didn’t happen until you had pushed it forward, waiting until you finished the whole rune circle to work and slamming your hand on it to work.

“Could work, but if you tell it to keep going indefinitely, how do we stop it?“ You looked back at him and saw him scratch his neck.

“Usually we have buttons and dials…sometimes an emergency lever.”He placed his head on his hands and looked around for inspiration to strike.

You looked down at your music sheet and rolled your eyes. The answer was right in front of you. You slid the music sheet towards him.

“When you want to bring your composition to an end, you add this…” You pointed to a circle enclosing a crosshair.

“The runes are a language, and languages are fluid. New words are being introduced every day. We can keep adding to it until it works…” Viktor continued excitedly. “We have to test this theory.”

“I’m not going to test something that has a possibility of permanently staying in your lab. I don’t think a never-ending whirlwind is very discreet.” 

His shoulders slumped for a second, and then he pointed to a small door next to the front door. That was a cleaning supply room spacious enough for the janitor to keep his cart there, but it was closed off so that if something were to happen in there, it would be contained.

“Alright…Let’s test this out.” You rolled the stool away from the table and slapped your hands on your thighs, watching Viktor move with efficiency.

• ············ • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr

[sanguineterrain]

Sanne on the topic of femjay... do u think she'd like giving gifts? I feel like she's the type to shower u in gifts and act like it's nbd she didn't even think about it when she got it for u (she is lying)

ok anon I'm pretty sure this isn't what you meant buuut it's kinda related? anyway i was inspired so please enjoy awkward arkham knight femjay who doesn't know how to interact with her old best friend/girlfriend when she returns from the dead so she starts leaving gifts instead. i ❤️ my weirdo wife

ak!female!jason todd x fem!reader.

****

Someone has been leaving you presents.

Normally, you'd be freaked out. Probably, you should be freaked out anyway. How someone knows your exact dress size and what chocolate you like and your favorite flowers and your birthstone... well, it would scare anyone.

But. But the thing is. Every gift and every placement of the gift feels very familiar. It feels like the habit of an old love. Because she used to do the same. Pretty rocks or flowers found on patrol. A t-shirt for the band you liked. A kiss.

It feels like training, like muscle memory: here is how to break in without breaking anything. Here is how to leave a scene undisturbed. Lessons that a friend shared with you.

A friend you loved. A friend you mourned.

The dresses are beautiful and certainly not cheap. But they have a familiarity to their design. They're extravagant, fairytale dresses that you dreamt of wearing when you were young. Dresses you have no reason to wear now.

They aren't revealing or risqué either, and that comforts you too, even though it probably shouldn't. Bruce would be upset at your lack of self-preservation.

This is you living in the past. This is hoping for the impossible.

The jewelry is also beautiful and nothing you could wear to work or to a grocery trip. It's all necklaces and bracelets heavy with diamonds or emeralds or sapphires. But there's a single ruby ring you've received, and it's plainer than everything else. You wear that regularly, even though that definitely encourages your admiring stalker.

The gift-giving is random but they never go more than two weeks without a visit. And there's no note, no demand, nothing. It's like you have an invisible pet raven who likes bringing you trinkets that cost more than your rent.

After the seventh gift, you plan a trap. You want to face this admirer, show that you're not afraid. Well, you're a little afraid. Mostly, it's fear at the fact that you haven't called the police or Batman, even though you and Batman haven't been simpatico for a long time.

No, something stops you. The hand that leaves your gifts is a hand you know. You're certain of it.

You set up a camera behind your shuttered closet, then leave for the day.

You return to the camera gone and a beautiful gold carved statue of a dove. And a note.

Not yet.

Well, fine. You can wait. You're mad because that camera wasn't cheap, but you can wait.

Weeks pass. Gifts arrive. You make a batch of cookies as a thank you on one occasion. Three cookies are missing when you come home. You smile.

Then the night comes.

You don't know how you know it's the night you'll meet them. You just have a feeling. You've written them notes, certain they've been received. No notes have arrived for you besides the one from all those weeks ago.

You put on one of the dresses, a delicate, frilly blue creation that shows your shoulders and neck. You finish it with the sapphire necklace, one of the first gifts you received.

She slips in through your window and freezes when she sees you, even though you know she timed it so you'd be home when she came.

"Hi," you say.

She doesn't speak. She approaches you slowly, carefully. She's very tall, very muscular. Her face is covered with an intricate helmet and she wears similar armor on her body. A new hero in Gotham? Or a villain?

"Do I know you?" you ask.

She shakes her head. You study her for a moment. Glowing eyes stare back. You can't tell if she's lying. It seems like she means it: you don't know her.

"But you know me?"

Your admirer hesitates. Then she nods.

You close the distance until you're a foot apart. Her breathing remains steady but her fingers are restless.

"I like the gifts," you say. "Though I'm confused why you're giving them to me."

Her fingers still. She says nothing.

"A friend used to give me gifts too," you say quietly.

You're both startled. Why did you say that? You don't know.

"You don't want to hurt me," you say.

She shakes her head fiercely.

Suddenly, you want her to touch you. You lift your head and expose your neck. You can tell she's tracking the movement. It sends a thrill down your spine. Maybe something's wrong with both of you.

"Do you like your necklace on me?" you ask.

Touch it. Touch me. Prove you aren't a ghost.

You hear her swallow and inhale shakily. She reaches for you and lightly touches the gold chain around your neck with one gloved finger. You close your eyes. A name falls from your lips. God, you miss her.

The window creaks. You open your eyes. She is gone.

[lvndrdaaze]

any virgin ororon x virgin f!reader thoughts? if you write nsfw of course 🫣

bestie... I had so many thoughts on this, and I hope you enjoy 💜

wc: 2.5k

Ororon's thoughts on sex were confused - in nature, it was a simple biological act of reproduction, of continuing a species, and he knew he wasn't prepared for children yet. However, in his time with the Fatui, some of the more vulgar agents drunkenly described the pleasure and thrill of it in ways that made his naive cheeks turn pink - he couldn't help but feel curious. Did it really feel that good?

In a similar fashion, the people of his tribe described it as a spiritual experience of two souls reaching out and touching each other in a way that brought the purest form of ecstasy known to humanity. This opinion had always led him to believe that sex simply wouldn't be for him - what pleasure could a broken soul provide, or even experience?

But a short while into your relationship, something started to happen to him. A simple touch from you had always set his heart racing, but somewhere along the way that rushing blood began flooding down to his cock, making him stir and twitch in his jeans. He found that he couldn't take his eyes off you when that happened, that the plush of your thighs suddenly seemed so inviting and the mere thought of your cleavage made him throb. 

Ororon touched himself to the thought of you, sprawled out across the bed in his messy bedroom as images of you flashed through his mind. His leaking cock twitched, precum lubricating his rapidly pumping fist as obscene moans echoed around the room like a reverberation of the pleasure he was experiencing at his own hand. He came the first time with a surprised shout of your name, his back arching off the mattress as he spurted thick, hot fluid onto his own stomach and chest. He didn't know all that much about sex, but he knew it was firmly on his mind now.

So, he was the first to mention it out of the two of you. "Have you ever had sex?" He asked bluntly one afternoon, and he was surprised to see the pink tinge to your cheeks and hint of shock in your eyes. Hadn't you been thinking of it too? He had assumed that you were, but now he wasn't so sure... But then, you answered his query with a faint shake of your head.

"W-why do you ask?"

Ororon may be naive, but he was no fool. He could recognise interest when he saw the glimmer of it in your beautiful eyes, heard it in the tremble of your voice. The seemingly innocent question was an opportunity, a door you were holding open for him. 

"I haven't either, but I've been thinking about it lately." He answered in that same nonchalant tone he always used. "With you, specifically. Have you ever wondered what it would be like?"

You blushed even more, taking your soft lower lip in between your teeth, and that was all it took for things to begin.

Ororon was gentle and a little clumsy as he figured out how to touch you for the first time. His kisses were chaste and experimental until his fingers traced over a spot on your inner thigh that made you gasp, and he was welcomed to the wet heat of your mouth. Oh, the taste of your mouth, the slickness of your tongue against his... his cock was throbbing, painfully hard in his pants, and he wanted nothing more than to see if your pussy was just as warm, just as inviting.

He wanted this to be good for you, though. So, he restrained himself for just long enough to tug your panties down your legs and familiarise himself with your slick heat. With your legs spread apart and his face level with her, he stared at the wetness gathered in your folds, hardly even noticing the way you trembled in anticipation. He hadn't even touched you yet, but the sight of you already soaked had him fascinated, and he darted his tongue out to taste the tempting, glistening flesh.

The sharp moan you let out at the contact was more than he could have ever dreamed of hearing. Within moments of registering the sweet tang of you on his tongue, he was bucking his hips against the mattress as the lapping motions of his tongue grew more persistent, and he moaned openly against your cunt with every dull pulse of pleasure that built in his gut. His eyes were closed in a pornographic image of contentment as he feasted, his fangs grazing over your twitching pussy and his hands gripping your thighs tighter than he intended as he held them open.

Ororon was equally concerned with your pleasure and his own. He explored every fold of your sweet pussy with his tongue, grinding the wet muscle around the clenching hole whilst trying to memorise the feeling and taste of it all, all whilst he humped the mattress with a growing desperation. The sounds you were making were fascinating to him - did this really feel that good to you? It felt incredible to him, so incredible that he knew he would probably cum in his pants like this if he kept going for much longer, but how good could it really feel to have someone's mouth on such a private part of your body?

At least, that was what he thought until you pushed his head away with a shaking hand and decided it was his turn. The moment your lips, wet and pink like petals in the morning dew, wrapped around his hot, needy tip, he was gone. Gasping and whining like a tragic little puppy, his fingers found their way into your hair with a surprising strength and anchored themselves there, grounding himself as you ran your tongue around the sensitive tip of his cock experimentally.

It wasn't a particularly talented blowjob, yet Ororon sobbed when you worked him only halfway into your mouth, sucking lightly and hardly bobbing your head due to the fingers gripping tight to your hair - and then he was barrelling towards the edge. The feeling of approaching an orgasm in your mouth was so intense, so much more powerful than with just his hand, that he didn't even think to warn you, and only realised his mistake when you let out a muffled yelp around him.

"Oh... sorry." He mumbled, flushed and expecting an earful from you about how inconsiderate it had been - but then he saw the glimmer in your eye.

"It's okay." You whispered, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of your messy lips, and you ran a hand up his thigh in a way that could only be described as sinfully alluring. "Do you want to keep going?"

"Yes." He answered immediately with a sweet little nod and wide eyes that stared at you. "Can we, please?"

You nodded, and Ororon had never been quite so excited in his life. Helping you out of your clothes felt like peeling open his first ever Bulle fruit, shipped all the way from Fontaine... it was new, and exciting, and he couldn't wait to delve in and taste everything that the sweet flesh had to offer. 

You helped him undress similarly, and he grew even harder just from watching you tugging at his tight jeans with a groan of frustration. Maybe you were feeling just as desperate as he was right now. He helped you to get them off, shucking them onto the pile of clothing on the floor with a heavy thunk, and suddenly you were both naked and nervous.

Ororon's hands found your cheeks as he knelt between your parted thighs, holding your gaze unwaveringly. No matter how difficult you looked to resist all spread out like this, it was your comfort that was his priority.

"Please... tell me what feels good. I really have no idea what I'm doing." He murmured earnestly. 

His hips slotted easily between yours, and he quickly figured out the best way to hold his weight without crushing you with it. With one arm reaching to wrap a fist around his already throbbing length and the other anchored to the bed beside your head, he angled it towards you, dragging the thick head through your soaked folds, but a whimper from you caused his actions to pause.

"Sorry, did I hurt you? Am I going too fast? We can stop, if you want to." Ororon asked, panicked and anxious. 

"N-No, it was just... new. It felt good." You assured him, your chest rising and falling rapidly, and he relaxed a little.

"C-can you..." he mumbled as he tried to find where to aim his tip a little clumsily.

Your hand joined his around his cock, and guided him towards your entrance. He felt it catch, felt the very tip slip into your warm, wet heat, and his teeth sank into his own lip. If this was what just the tip felt like, how was he going to last once he was inside you?

The process of working his way in was slow and overwhelming. Ororon had never even considered whether his dick may be bigger than average, but slipping it into your tight pussy inch by inch seemed to take forever. His hands clenched on the sheets as he watched it disappear inside your fluttering hole, and he tried his best to bite back every whimper he wanted to let free just so that he could hear your breathless moans. 

Finally, his slow rock into you was stopped as his pubic bone met yours, his aching cock fully enveloped in the warmth of your most sensitive area, and the feeling took his breath away. He could feel all of you, every ridge and bump, every twitch and clench, all accompanied by the sound of your heavy breathing mixed with his... and he understood the appeal of all of this now. He had never been so truly connected to anyone before, both literally and metaphorically. Even his broken soul was far from the forefront of his mind as he leaned down, one arm still caging you in beside your head and the other intertwining his fingers with yours, giving a reassuring squeeze.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his soft voice coming out far hoarser than he had intended.

You nodded, blinking up at him with those perfect eyes, glassy and hooded with the overwhelming sensation of being stretched around him.

"Yeah, Ororon, please..." you whispered, hooking your knees on either side of his hips and pulling him somehow deeper, as though this was natural to you. "Y-you can move..."

He released a shaky breath, and gave a slow, experimental roll of his hips. His cock dragged along your inner walls sinfully, pulling out only a couple of inches before pressing back into the addictive wetness, and he moaned, loud and obscene. 

Everything he had heard about this act seemed to make sense all at once. It was instinctual, the need to bury himself deep and never leave, just like the animals in the wilderness. It was joyous, something he wanted to gush about to anyone who would listen, just like those Fatui had. But most of all... it was spiritual. He was inside you, and it felt incredible. His tribe were right.

He kept his pace slow and deep, never withdrawing all the way out of you before canting his hips forward until his pubic bone pressed against your twitching pussy, drawing out the sweetest sounds from your lips. It took a little while to truly find a rhythm, simply because of how distracted he was by all of the different stimuli going on, all the new sights and sounds and scents - Archons, no one had warned him about the smell that clung to the air, heady and sweet.

Eventually though, he found a pace that worked for you both. One of his hands found its place on your waist, pulling you in gently against his thrusts. The sounds you were both making were loud and uninhibited, and it only made him more desperate, more in love with the experience.

"Hah... I'm, ah, I can't stop," Ororon whispered, staring down at your expression; your parted lips heaving pants and moans into the air, your eyes glazed and heavily lidded - you were a picture of obscenity, and he imagined he looked similar.

"D-don't stop, Ororon, please," you whimpered, and he felt himself throbbing inside your gummy walls, the end he had become so familiar with in recent months coming ever closer, and it was far more intense than it had ever been with just his own hand.

He picked up the pace, grunting and moaning hoarsely with every plunge of his cock into your cunt. The sound of every collision, that heavy wet squelch, was driving him wild. 

"I... oh, I'm c-close," he whined, ducking his head down to kiss at the curve of your shoulder, the perfect column of your throat. "A-are you going to..?"

"Yes," You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut and nodding frantically, "yeah, oh Archons, I-I'm close..."

He moaned, and without thinking, bit down on your shoulder, sinking his fangs into the soft, smooth skin. It felt primal, he couldn't explain it, but it seemed like it was the right thing to do, because suddenly you were clenching around him, crying out in bliss and gushing around his cock as you came.

Ororon kept going, kept thrusting his hard length wildly into the sopping hole until he could feel his release approaching, it was right there... then at the very last second, he pulled out of the warmth of your pussy, barely having time to wrap his fingers around himself before he was cumming, gasping and spurting thick lines of cum over your stomach. His body twitched and bucked, his eyes closed under the weight of it all for a few moments.

Then, he collapsed back down, hardly even bothered by the sticky sensation between your bodies as he laid atop you like a blanket.

"Wow... I had no idea it would feel so... powerful." He mused quietly, his voice a breathy whisper against your collar. He pulled back slowly, looking down at you with unrestrained affection. 

"Me neither." You whispered back, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Archons, you were so pretty.

"W-was it good for you, too?" He asked softly, his gaze falling to the marks left my his teeth on your shoulder. "Oh, I'm sorry... did I hurt you? I really didn't mean to, I just, I don't know what came over me..."

But you shook your head, looping your arms around his neck to pull him down closer, until all he could focus on were the tiny details of your face. The soft flutter of your lashes, every tiny freckles on your face, the flyaway strands of hair that tickled his cheeks as he leaned in.

"It didn't hurt at all." You whispered, brushing your lips against his. "It was amazing, Ororon. You were amazing."

His heart could have exploded in his chest right then; he knew in that moment that he would never be able to get enough of this, of this feeling of warmth and connection and love.

[ckret2]

It's established that Bill is perceived as wildy different ages by different people. Do all the teens see him like Wendy does? I think she said he looks around 15. Or do one or more of the teens see this 22-62 year old guy slowly incorporating into their clique and just accept it because the other seem chill about it. Like what if Thompson thinks he's as old as his mom and just doesn't want to say anything to bring the vibe down.

I haven't decided how ALL of them see him yet—although how Bill's viewed is strongly influenced by someone's first impression of him.

If when someone meets him the first time he's begging Stan to let him drive please please please he promises he knows how to drive and Stan's going hell no, he looks 16; if when they meet him the first time he's talking about that time he pulled some strings to help a music producer avoid getting subpoenaed to testify in front of the House Committee on Un-American Activities in exchange for the producer putting out an album by his shitty band, then he looks 70-something.

Since their first impression of Bill was as Toga Lady, most of them will probably see him as like, the age somebody might wear a toga + own a Pony Heist bedsheet. So, 15-25.

Except Robbie, whose first impression is that Toga Lady's got the hair and body of a PTA mom.

[uhhhj13iguess]

kiss it better

stiles x reader

wc: ~1k

like the stydia kiss in season three when stiles is having a panic attack, except you're the one panicking and he kisses you!

obviously details a panic attack so trigger warning for that

"(y/n)?"

stiles knocked softly on your door, frowning at the lack of response. he called your name a few more times to no avail, slowly opening the bedroom door with a deep breath. he called out your name again, sounding his presence before even looking in the room. was he concerned you were unresponsive because you were dead? yes. but he was still a man of respect.

his heart grew heavy in his chest as his eyes fell on your frame. you sat on your window sill, legs curled to your chest and a heavy blanket wrapped around your figure as you balanced on the ledge of the open window. not in a concerning way, stiles decided. you didn't appear ready to jump, but rather more... pensive. he couldn't see much of your face, as you faced the activity on the street below, but he could hear that you were crying. the entire scene was gut-wrenching to him.

you, on the other hand, considered it pathetic.

you didn't hear stiles entering your room, lost in your own world as tears stained your cheeks. your once racing thoughts had been numbed by feelings of dissociation, no longer having the energy to even ruminate anymore. you pulled your weighted blanket tighter around your body, hoping at this point it would just crush you and swallow you whole. you nearly fell out the window at the the sound of stiles calling out your name.

"... (y/n)?

you turned to face him, and you swore he almost looked as sad as you did.

he stepped hesitantly towards you. "i'm sorry, we just, we haven't heard from you all day. are you... are you okay?"

the fatal question.

as soon as the words came out of his mouth, you choked out a sob. the emotions you had detached yourself from came flooding back into your system, and you lost control.

you couldn't breathe. you couldn't think, yet that was somehow all you were able to do -- no words would come out no matter how hard you tried. stiles ran to your side immediately, pulling you from the window and onto the ground. he tugged you against his chest, holding you as tight as he possibly could as if he was afraid you'd run.

as if you had that kind of control over your body in this moment. you felt yourself beginning to hyperventilate, no longer feeling like you could get any oxygen into your lungs. it made you panic more, and while you knew stiles was talking to you, begging for your attention, you just couldn't seem to pull out of it.

everything was overwhelming again, and you felt like you were in a trance -- if a trance could be absolute hell. you needed to snap out of it. you screamed in your head, begging, pleading with your brain to think rationally.

it was no use. you were stuck like this forever, you thought.

stiles didn't know what to do. he'd dealt with his own panic attacks before, but seeing you in one short-circuited his brain. he was panicking himself, the thought of you hurting this badly physically bringing him pain. he pulled you off his chest, trying to get you to look in his eyes. trying to pull you out of it.

"(y/n), please, I need you to listen to me."

"please, just please look at me."

"i need you to breathe, please, i need you to listen to me. you're right here, I'm here, you're safe. whatever this is, it's okay, I promise, just, please."

there was nothing you wanted more than to cooperate, but you weren't in control anymore. you sobbed harder, feeling defeated.

stiles' breathing was getting quicker too, feeling helpless. he just needed you to hear him, to come back to the present. he needed you to breathe, he needed you to breathe, he just --

his lips hit yours with a force, silencing your mind in an instant. your eyes widened as you felt him against you, his hands pressing on either side of your face holding you close to him. you saw his eyes squeezed shut tightly. you felt his choppy exhale against your face. suddenly, you were here again -- present. you could smell his cologne and hear your stereo playing softly in the background.

your eyes fluttered closed and stiles let out a sigh into your mouth as he finally felt you relax against him. he held there for a moment, his soft lips on your chapped and swollen ones, lightly running his fingers through your hair as he felt your body begin to calm down. you let out a shaky exhale through your nose as you laid a hand against his chest, and he knew you had come back down to earth.

he pulled back slowly, his eyes opening to lock with yours. your lips remained slightly parted, shaky breaths coming out at a much slower pace than just moments before. you both just sat there, inches from one another, and your eyebrows furrowed as you took in what just happened. his eyes flickered down to your lips, causing him to lick his own subconsciously.

stiles spoke first. "i, um,"

"i read somewhere once that holding your breath can help stop a panic attack."

he paused for a moment to clear his throat. "so, when I kissed you, you, uh, you held your breath."

"oh,"

"yeah,"

you nodded slowly, feeling your heart rate return to normal for what felt like the first time in days. you leaned back slightly, taking in his whole frame. you took a deep breath, butterflies beginning to replace the sickly feeling in your stomach. "thank you."

"no problem."

[mollyrolls]

stop the clock 𖦹 matsukawa i. x reader

day 8: the name drop

in collaboration with get ugly by @eggyrocks @warlocksoup

an: if you guys haven't seen my rampant screaming, eggy's new phenomenal fic get ugly is in the stc universe!!! you must go read it and give eggy love otherwise ill eat you

uquiz 𖦹 pinterest

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“You broke my heart, you know that?”

Issei calls out to the expanse of the store as he enters, foot barely past the threshold before he speaks.

“Uh, sorry?”

Suddenly, his blood runs cold. The voice coming from the desk is not the one he’s come to love, but a completely new one. He turns slowly, preparing himself for the embarrassment he will have to endure.

Sitting in her perch was a shorter guy, with a streak of blonde cutting right through his hair. He’s looking at Issei like he knows him, which is confusing because Issei’s sure this is the first time he’s seen him.

Upon seeing his face, the guy from the counter breaks into a huge grin.

“Oh my god, you must be Mattsun.”

Adjusting slightly to appear more relaxed, he gives a tentative smile.

“Uh, yeah. I am.”

The guy leans forward on his elbows, watching him like a TV show.

“How much money have you actually spent on cherries? It’s got to be like ¥4000 at this point.”

This peaks his interest significantly. He hasn’t told anyone but Makki and Suna about the cherries, because he had to explain the new business expense he’d been logging, so it must have been her.

This of course means-

“She talks about me?” He can hardly contain his glee at this news.

“Yeah. It’s not-”

Issei puts a hand up to stop the guy. He doesn’t care to hear what she’s been saying, for better or for worse. Since it’s likely worse, the knowledge that he consumes the tiniest bit of space in her brain is enough for him.

As he does so, the guy splits into a huge grin.

“You’re just like I imagined. Can I please watch you flirt? I need this for science.”

Before he can do anything, the guy behind the counter yells out to the store. 

Yells her name. Something in Issei’s head starts to spin. 

He wanted to know her name. So badly that he was chastised relentlessly by Makki for spending his whole shift on his phone with Suna. They had scoured every corner of her spotify account, looking for anything to identify her.

Tragically, she’d prepared for him. Her username was just a bunch of numbers, she had no profile name or picture, and all the playlists were simply numbered 1-16. 

So yes, knowing her name was like fireworks sparking in his head. But this was not how he wanted to learn it. He likes that she makes him work; he wanted it to be a prize that he’d earned.

At the sound of her name, she appears behind the little isles and looks over at where they are. Issei can’t help but notice she’s in his corner. Where the cherries are. 

As she makes eye contact with Issei, her facade cracks. Surprise, embarrassment, realization, embarrassment, collected, all in the span of a few seconds. She comes around to round out their circle, not really looking at Issei. 

He thinks it’s weird seeing her from this angle. She’s not different, maybe a little nervous, but not enough to really change her demeanor. Yet, without the safety of her counter she looks more vulnerable. 

“Is something wrong, Noya?” She asks the guy behind the counter, seemingly unprepared to handle Issei. 

Noya grins cheekily, and gestures to the space between them as if inviting the show to begin. She glowers at him but he seems unaffected. Issei’s impressed; if he was on the receiving end of that glare he’d need some new pants.

Noya beams wider before turning to him again. “Cmon, let’s see it! Lay on the charm man.” 

“You’re gross. And stealing from me by still being clocked in,” She bites back before Issei can even start. He just stands back and watches their exchange, like a spectator at the zoo. 

Something in him is jealous of Noya and the way he can get her to shed her skin. Regardless, he takes what he can get. Despite his nasty gut feeling, he’s seeing a side of her he’s never gotten access to. What she’s like with her friends, when she’s not putting on her facade. Who his mystery girl really is.

Noya eventually concedes after being threatened short of death and is pushed out of the store. Before he disappears into the dusk, he whispers something to her that makes her eyes roll all the way to the back of her head. 

She watches him turn the corner and disappear into the night, and Issei notices the steadying breaths she has to take.

Upon re-entering the store, she looks more collected. As she tucks her hands in her back pockets, she rocks a little on her feet. He looks down and notices the boots she’s sporting, and the tiniest little streak on the toe.

“So.”

His attention is brought back up when she addresses him, still swaying slightly.

“So?”

She shifts her shoulders back reflexively, like she’s ready for a fight. “You know my name now.”

He looks back at her, saying nothing. She doesn’t take the bait.

“What, you aren’t gonna berate me to death? Wax poetic about how beautiful it is and how it suits me and how when you heard it, angels sang?”

He tries to hide a smile. “Do you want me to?”

“No.”

“Then I won’t.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “What happened to you?”

He gives a tiny shrug.

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m still the same old Issei.”

Unconvinced, she glares at him a little longer. He takes it on the chin. When she presses, he stands firm.

Issei thinks she’s sorting things out in her head. He’d give her whatever she needs, even if it makes his knees a little weak, and right now that means a silent dressing down. His hands are sweaty.

“This is unnerving.” She admits after a few moments, then turns on her heel to walk back deeper into the store.

Issei waits a couple moments then follows.

“What is?”

“You.” She reaches her destination, and starts to restock his cherries.

“Haven’t I always annoyed you though?”

“Yeah. But this is different.”

She continues picking up the pots from the box, rotating them around and sliding them into their place. There’s about 20 little jars, only taking up a single shelf.

Issei lingers nearby, leaning on the doors of a fridge. His back radiates enough heat to make some condensation. “How do you mean?”

She stops for a second in contemplation; looking over her shoulder to peer at him again, turning thoughts over in her mind. She opens her mouth to say something, but closes it just as fast. 

In her hesitancy, Issei notices a touch of vulnerability in her eyes. It’s hidden deep behind her irises, but he knows her now. With a blink, it’s gone.

 Instead, she lets out a deep sigh, a bit of frustration and a drop of disappointment.

“I dunno. Never mind.”

“Hey, cmon.” Issei tries to probe her again, keep her talking, but she grows resolute in her decision. She quickly emits an energy that is impenetrable. He doesn’t have the tools yet to identify a crack.

He stands and waits for an opening, one that she doesn’t give. The condensation from the fridge starts to drip down his neck. 

He feels a buzz in his pocket, and sees a text. 

suna [9:57 pm]: ur gonna b late. get some salt while ur there, quit harassing women, and hurry up

He can’t help the small grunt of annoyance he lets out, resentment growing at everything around him. 

When he looks back up, she’s staring at him in a way he’s never seen. There’s not a lack of emotion, there’s too many to sort. He expects her to glance away, and she does.

The whirr of the fridges is louder than normal.

“I’ll uh… I’ll see you around,” Issei starts, feeling oddly small. He scuffs his shoe, hoping she’ll ask him to stay, or ask him a clarifying question, or anything other than this suffocating silence. When nothing comes, he pushes off the wall and starts down the aisle.

He really does try to leave, but sometimes he can’t help himself. He pauses, and she watches.

“For what it’s worth, I think it’s lame your friend ruined that bit. It was kinda fun having the mystery.”

She takes the peace treaty gratefully, but still doesn’t speak.

“If you want, we can agree to forget it? I’ll earn it fair and square?”

There’s a little chuckle, mostly to herself, before she replies.

“Are you even capable of forgetting that?”

He laughs, somewhat from relief that he had managed to salvage whatever he’d fucked up.

“Nah, probably not. I can try though.”

She dismisses that with a wave of her hand.

“Why bother. I’ll just… put bleach in Noya’s shampoo or something.”

He grins at her, easy and open. She doesn’t return it, but stands up a bit more casually. 

The unspoken words between them weigh heavy in the air, but it’s returned to a level that Issei can manage. They’re closer than he’d thought.

He realizes he’s been staring, trying and failing to place her perfume. Issei ducks his head quickly, before turning and walking out more intentionally.

Right before he reaches the door, he turns around one last time. To his surprise, he meets her eyes. 

“I- I hope the concert was good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He can’t hear her from across the store, but sees her mouth ‘bye.’

By the time he gets to work, he’s distracted. Anytime a woman tries to flirt with him, all he can think of is the melody behind her eyes, and what was going through her head. 

Issei doesn’t make that many tips that night.

She’s hunched over her drawing table, various trashed doodles surrounding her. Her phone is plugged into the wall, just above 14%. It always dies faster when she’s on the phone.

“I don’t see what the big deal is?”

Seven’s voice is breathy over the speaker, she’s out in the cold. She fills in the background of her strip with haphazard crosses.

“So he’s a little dorky guy with a crush. Is he threatening?”

She lets out a half-there chuckle. “No. He likes batman band-aids.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Her pencil tip breaks from the pressure. 

“I-”

Instead of sharpening it, she fishes for another.

“I think he actually likes me. Like, not as a bit.”

Over the speaker, some rock radio comes over from Seven’s side. It’s loud enough that she can hear it. It makes her cringe.

“Is that so bad?”

The response takes so long that Seven has to ask if she’s there.

“Yeah. It is.”

She hangs up before she’s faced with the next probing question.

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taglist: closed.

@bakingcuriosity, @nobodybutnnoorr, @ciderscape, @lilchubbyyy, @soulfullystarry,

@interstellarz, @wakashudou , @myromanempiree, @notverymarley, @aozui,

@lllaw,, @cnnmairoll, @cosmiicdust, @reignsaway,

@wyrcan, @garfieldissocool, @soobin1437, @guitarstringed-scars, @adorerinn,

@thiisisntlovely, @miliondollagirl, @snail-squasher, @pocketful-ofdaisies, @cherrypieyourface,

@honeekyuu, @rivaiken,

@ineednanami, @akaashislovee, @kodzu-ken

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@introvertsince2003, @thechaosoflonging, @kameyyy, @riousluvs, @totallytatum

@animenaces-world, @layskettlecookedchips, @chaotic-neutral-ig, @jadeoru, @anniewings

[grammarpedant]

Thanks for activating my trap card, buddy. You see, I haven't actually explained how Gurathin is irrational yet. Now I'll show you.

First, let's be clear about what "irrational" means here. This post is not interested in whether his concerns were justifiable or understandable for the situation he's in. I am arguing that his arguments aren't logically sound, and are principally driven more by fear and unexamined belief in propaganda than solid evidence.

If the SecUnit is rogue, if its governor module is broken, then it can't be controlled. Gurathin theoretically knows this—"there is no control over its behavior," he says—and Volescu clarifies for the group that the governor module "can transmit commands, but can’t enforce them or control behavior or apply punishment." The governor module is the crux of the concern, the whole reason they're having this conversation—everyone in this conversation understands that much.

So then what's the basis for Gurathin to believe The Company is controlling it? His theory is that "It’s acting for the company" to sabotage them—but if it can't be controlled, then how is the company controlling it? Why would they not just give it orders as normal and then make whatever claims they want about its governor module later, rather than risking it doing Literally Whatever as a free agent this whole time? Like, is it a rogue SecUnit or is it a company tool? It can't be both.

Ah, but as a matter of fact, PresAux does know how a SecUnit might be controlled without a totally intact governor module... they know because Murderbot told them. Immediately prior to this scene:

“The unknown SecUnit inserted a data carrier, a combat-override module. It’s downloading instructions into me and will override my system. This is why the two DeltFall units turned rogue. You have to stop me.” [...] “You have to kill me.” [...] So I grabbed the handweapon lying on the seat, turned it toward my chest, and pulled the trigger.

I've cut out all the parts of Murderbot's narration to show you only what PresAux knows and can see. Gurathin, buddy. If the SecUnit is part of the sabotage, then why did it explain how the sabotage was done, and then instruct you all to kill it, and then try to kill itself?

He only even HAS the opportunity to find out that the SecUnit is rogue at all because it put itself in that vulnerable position, in the active pursuit of keeping PresAux alive. If it was part of a sabotage, that wouldn't make sense. If it was a malicious free agent, then that also wouldn't make sense. Any number of other actions would make more sense.

Let's say for the sake of argument that there's some kind of long con going on here. According to Gurathin at his most skeptical, its log "confirms... what the Unit believes happened." The logs seem to be more or less a record not only of what Murderbot does, but also what it thinks and believes. That's why it's worth it to go digging in Murderbot's brain for them. But if that's the case, then why doesn't Gurathin find any evidence of other suspicious behavior in the logs when he looked? Things Murderbot actually did to sabotage PresAux? Is it because the logs can be doctored? In that case, why wasn't the reference to previous murder removed? What, did the SecUnit need some kind of dramatic backstory to explain the governor hack when Pin-Lee et al. went to look at Murderbot's code, which wouldn't have been necessary if it had just murdered all the witnesses in the first place? Hell, why weren't references to its name, "Murderbot," removed, if the logs were part of a long con? It'd be a simple CTRL + F + replace all to get rid of something that would complicate an attempted manipulation. Either SecUnit's under the direct control of a malicious party that can make it believe anything, in which case this is a really bizarre, stupid long con they're playing here, or its logs are its own, and reality as a rogue SecUnit is messy.

Moreover, Gurathin's argument relies on the very logs he's skeptical of. How does he know that Murderbot is rogue, that it killed 57 clients previously? Because its logs say so. What do its logs also say? That it spends all its time watching Sanctuary Moon, and that it believes the mass murder was caused by the governor module malfunctioning, and so hacked it to prevent further murders. Corroborating the fact that the governor module can be corrupted is the existence of the combat module, code for which Pin-Lee JUST spent a lengthy procedure removing from Murderbot. Corroborating the fact that it does absolutely watch the soap operas is Ratthi. Corroborating the fact that it does want to prevent further murders is the continued survival of Bharadwaj and Volescu, of Mensah, Pin-Lee, Ratthi, and Overse, and the fact that, you know, it shot itself in the chest rather than give in to the combat override code. Murderbot's story is supported by evidence. Gurathin's argument for distrusting it is based on corporate propaganda and evidence cherry-picked from a source he can't decide is trustworthy or not.

And it's absurd to say that they don't really know it. They know enough. They know it's not a mindless robot, and that its human face shows how it feels despite its best attempts to hide it. They know it knows it's a slave, that it's being abused, and that it's uncomfortable with having attention drawn to that. They know that it's previously acted within the parameters of its job to keep them safe, that it's demonstrated self-control and rational action towards a goal. They know it's gone above and beyond for their safety, actively putting their lives before its own. And now they know it's a free agent. At bare minimum the evidence of its prior actions show that it's worth negotiating with, that it is a rational actor with opinions and desires that can be used to persuade it that its interests align with PresAux's.

But let's say for the sake of argument that even despite all the compelling evidence that Murderbot is a person who can be trusted, or at least a person who can be negotiated with, that's not enough to outweigh the possibility that maybe it'll sell them all out for some reason, or kill them randomly because of whatever. Let's say that the lives of the in-group are worth more than the potential danger of trusting an out-group individual. Okay. Then the rational thing to do would have been to kill it before it could wake up. "I've had HubSystem immobilize it" with what, Gurathin? How is HubSystem immobilizing it? Why is the governor module so important if all it takes to neutralize a rogue SecUnit is having HubSystem immobilize it. How do you know HubSystem is safe if the SecUnit isn't. You dumbass, Gurathin, do you think you've succeeded where all the victims of past alleged mass murders had failed? You think as long as you control things, everything will be okay? Or is it just that the little part of you that has internalized Preservation's belief in the sanctity of life flinches from the idea of murder?

If Gurathin's fear, prejudices, and cynicism had been right, his irrationality would have gotten him and his teammates killed.

No, the rational move, especially for someone who draws the line at murder, is to negotiate. Parlay. Talk it out. We can call it "manipulation" if we struggle with the belief that nonviolence is naive. Put simply, if the SecUnit is a person, it can be influenced or even controlled the way people can be: with shows of good faith, with bribes and threats, with emotion, with convincing logic, with propaganda. If you're good at getting people to do what you want them to do, it's not hard to get a read on a person who's never dealt with other people as a person before and tie their self-interest and self-concept to your goals. Study up on abuse and indoctrination tactics if you don't understand what I mean, or crack open a corporate management handbook. If you care more about getting out alive than anything else, then THAT'S the smart play here! Talking like it might still randomly murder them for ??? reasons is not only insulting to its personhood, but a stupid waste of the good faith and strong opening position generated by showing that PresAux was willing to save its life in return. Mensah had the right idea—that (and the fact that she is a principled person who would never actually stoop to psychological abuse) is why she is the voice of reason and direction in this scene.

And finally, let me talk about what those prejudices are that make Gurathin appear rational to a reader in the real world.

Why do we assume that propaganda about SecUnits as mindless killers that have to be controlled from a known-untrustworthy source should be so compelling over hard, experiential data regarding the behavior of an individual? Because that's how racist, prejudicial logic works in the real world. You work backwards from a received assumption about, say, the dangers of immigrants or angry Black people, and everything either supports the conclusion, or is an exception to the conclusion that can be discarded.

Why do we assume that the best way to deal with a dangerous SecUnit would be to remove its bodily autonomy indefinitely? Because that's how carceral logic and retributive justice work in the real world. Some people are inherently Bad and deserve abuse, and if they aren't tightly controlled, they'll hurt other people because that's just what they do. Because if an abuse victim had the same power to harm as you do, or heaven forbid MORE power, then the first reasonable, justified course of action is to react with violence. Because if someone who's been abused gains power, of course they will treat us the way we treated them and take violent revenge. And we don't want that, our comfort and safety matter more than theirs.

Don't get me wrong, the way Gurathin acts in this scene is very understandable. It speaks to us as a reasonable response because fear of death and fear of the stranger are very deeply human experiences, and so is panicking in the face of that fear, so is jumping to conclusions, so is lashing out, and so is trying to maintain control or the appearance of control to cope with a bad situation. We've all done similar. We all have prejudices we have to unlearn because the purpose of prejudice is to make it easier and less effort-intensive to figure out who to trust and who not to trust, to keep us safe when things get dicey. But that doesn't make the logic of fear and prejudice rational or right. In fact it's pretty irrational when you look at it closely.

No, in fact, it's the rest of PresAux who actually looks at the evidence that they have access to regarding Murderbot and its trustworthiness, weigh it logically, and make the rational decision to trust it. They do this despite the prejudice and propaganda, despite Gurathin's jumping to conclusions, despite even Murderbot's own distrust in itself.

Because Murderbot, a literal product of the Corporation Rim, has internalized the same prejudicial thinking, carceral logic, and retributive justice that we have, for much the same reasons: because that's how you live and survive in a dehumanizing system that perpetuates those things. We're biased by its perspective, yes, by its obvious personhood, its dry humor and care for humans despite itself, etc, but Murderbot's narrative is also itself biased by these same cruel beliefs as many of us have internalized in our real lives. Remember, it believes Gurathin is reasonable. Murderbot really truly deep down believes that it's One of the Bad Ones, that rogue SecUnits are killers and the only way to deal with them is to kill them first, that the safety of the human in-group comes before any out-group, that trust and vulnerability will get you killed.

And Murderbot is wrong, too. PresAux was right to take a chance on it. Not only were they right, it was the rational, logical choice to make. Because they put their trust in it, because Mensah and the others took the time to connect with it as a person, they get a far more powerful ally out of Murderbot than they would get a tool, and PresAux survives with 100% of members because Murderbot rises to meet their trust with everything it has. Challenging its deeply-held cynical beliefs is one of the fundamental themes of both All Systems Red and of the series as a whole: Empathy and compassion are not just good moral principles, but a rational approach to survival and building a better world.

Gurathin is not only wrong, his argument is fundamentally irrational

Gurathin's argument in ASR:

We need to immobilize this SecUnit stat, because it's going to kill us.

I know it's going to kill us because its logs show that it's rogue. If there is no way to control it, then it is dangerous to us.

It is controlled by the Company to sabotage us. "The missing hazard report, the missing map sections. The SecUnit must be part of that." If it wasn't, that would be a coincidence, which is unbelievable.

This SecUnit has gone rogue and killed people in its charge before. It may do so again.

PresAux's counterargument:

It may be rogue, but that doesn't logically mean it will kill us. "The fact that the Unit has been acting to preserve our lives, to take care of us, while it was a free agent, gives us even more reason to trust it." (Volescu)

Someone may be sabotaging us, but that doesn't logically mean it's the Company or our SecUnit. "There were only three SecUnits for DeltFall in their specs, but there were five units in their habitat. Someone is sabotaging us, but I don’t think our SecUnit is part of it." (Ratthi)

If the SecUnit was trying to sabotage us, then why would it tell us about the combat module sabotage and shoot itself? (Bharadwaj, Overse)

The SecUnit believes it went rogue as a result of malfunction, and that hacking its governor module would prevent a repeat occurrence. Confirmation of its sincerity comes from the same logs that Gurathin accessed for his arguments. (Volescu)

Gurathin's counter-counterargument:

Well it gave itself an edgy nickname

[jesswritesthat]

Bakugō Katsuki: Not Yet

Fandom: BNHA // MHA — [Masterlist]

Summary: ~0.6k, fluff, humour

Warnings: Cursing

>>>>——————————>

The airport, that's only destination on your mind and you were currently on the verge of missing the deadline when speeding through the city in your hero attire.

It just so happened that timing was not on your side, an unfortunate coincidence when an explosion rattled your eardrums the moment you passed the local jewellery store. With a pained sigh and a curse sent to fate, you spun to meet debris littering the street and excited thieves stumbling out of the building.

"Are you kidding me?!" You chastised them like children being caught red handed at the most inopportune time which left the criminals snapping to your imposing figure in complete shock.

"Crap it's (H/n)!"

"How'd they get here so fast?!"

"Doesn't matter, with four against one we can take 'em."

For once you'd hoped the criminals would make it easy so you could make it in time to meet your boyfriend at the airport. Dynamight was required for a mission abroad, and had left the week you'd started dating - all these years of friendship finally developed into something more and neither of you had the chance to act on it.

They regretfully put up a fight with their dangerous quirks, each aiming for a fatal blow which only agitated your further. Bit by bit with each brocading event, you were slowly losing any remaining semblance of patience you had left in the fibres of your bones.

"Stand still and die already hero!"

"You don't get to kill me today - I haven't even got to kiss my boyfriend yet!" You yelled utterly frustrated, temper snapping, and quirk flaring to maximum strength.

They chose the wrong day, the wrong time, and the wrong damn hero. In an instant you'd taken the quartet down, tied them up, handed the stolen items over to the authorities, and disappeared before any outlet could get ahold of your for an interview after filming the fight.

Unfortunately for you, such a slip was broadcast live across monitors littered around the city and as you raced through the streets dodging them, the boyfriend in question found himself staring it down with a flush of his skin.

Still Bakugō Katsuki maintained a proud smirk with his bags slung over his shoulder, even more so when noting the quiet bustling of surrounding civilians all wondering just who your mysterious boyfriend was. The media would certainly be following you a little more closely from now on but you weren't stupid enough to let them catch you out.

It's why he wasn't surprised when loading his belongings into the awaiting taxi that he was embraced by a force of wind, lips suddenly occupied by an unfamiliar warmth that he could only smile into. He gladly reciprocated however, hands finding purchase on your body and a satisfied hum escaping him. Pulling away, you met his gaze, your own slightly more unnerved considering you'd kissed him out of nowhere like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Uh— welcome home?”

"One hell of a first kiss, knew you wanted me bad." It was spoken with a hint of victory, thumb running across your bottom lips as he teased you. Instantly you created a distance, glaring at him with a defeated sigh which he could only laugh at.

"You saw the broadcast, kill me now."

"I can kill you, since you've finally kissed your boyfriend."

It'd be a while before you gave him the privilege of a kiss again, instead punching the smug bastards’ arm and getting into the taxi together.

It'd be a memorable first kiss of your relationship certainly, and that video would undoubtedly be used to taunt you in the future, but right now you were glad to have Katsuki home.

Almost as happy as he was to see you.

Almost.

<——————————<<<<

[genderqueerdykes]

hi um. i’d like to ask you for some advice, since it seems like a lot of people come to you when they need it. i’m a trans girl who’s been taking estrogen for 2.5 years but. i’m just so disappointed and unhappy with what hrt has done for me. i feel like i’ve been completely taken over by doomerism from me constantly comparing myself to other transfems both online and irl, and from spending too much time on trans reddit (i’m sending you this ask instead of writing another vent post on r/mtf). through this i’ve convinced myself that i will never be happy with my body, or that i’ll never have real boobs or a feminine body at all. i really really don’t want to give up hope, but it just seems so far out of reach, and i’m stuck down here in this inky abyss. what do you do in dark times when you need to regain hope, but you can’t do it yourself?

first of all, i wanted to say i'm sorry that you're feeling this way. medical transition is a very finicky thing. there is no way to predict what will happen and when, so it's okay to feel just. completely bummed the hell out when you're not seeing the changes you hoped for yet. i definitely see how it can be crushing, especially when you know your body needs to look a different way for you to be happy. it's important to consider people look a lot different irl than they do in photos and videos. camera lenses can only capture so much. pictures and videos can be edited. it's hard to compare yourself to something like that

& i did want to say that you're definitely not alone! there are a lot of girls in your exact situation. with everyone responding to HRT differently, you'll see girls who get changes right away, and girls where it takes a long time. changes with HRT generally happen very slowly, way slower than the eye can perceive, so it's okay if you feel like nothing is happening. your body just may need more time to adjust

have you ever increased your dose? if not, that is totally an option! you may also want to look into progesterone if you find that you're not happy with your breast growth after some time. it's best to look into progesterone first to make sure it's right for you, as it will affect more than just breast growth, but i wanted to throw it out there as an option! if you're not on an androgen blocker, this could also potentially help you

for both estrogen and testosterone HRT, it can take a minimum of 5 years for people to begin seeing the effects they were desiring. 5 years, minimum! that's a very long time, comparatively, you are very early on in your journey. the effects you want to see may just come along further on down the road. i know it's easy to fall into the trap of comparing yourself to others. it's good to remind yourself that they are not you, they do not share your genetics. they look like them. you look like you. it's okay that you don't look like those people- they're not you.

it doesn't make you any less of a woman just because you haven't seen these changes yet. there are plenty of women who look just like you, cis, intersex, trans, genderqueer, and otherwise. there are many cis and intersex women who don't "pass", and it doesn't make them any less of a woman: the same applies to you, and every trans girl. dysphoria can be a real pain in the ass and make things harder than it needs to be. it's okay to not be content with where you're at now. it's okay to be frustrated that you're not seeing the changes you want to right now. many, many trans people feel just the same way you do.

you may feel awkward and uncomfortable right now because you're literally in a transitional phase. think about when teenagers go through puberty, about how awkward they look and feel. cracking voices, bodies that are "in the middle" and not fully developed. that's what you're going through at the moment, and its okay. it just takes time for things to fully settle in.

what i would suggest is trying to find ways to do some self care that affirm your gender that don't involve your appearance. validating yourself in other ways is extremely important. building yourself up takes time. if you feel insecure about how you look, it's okay. you can start building your confidence in your identity and gender in other areas of yourself, first, then move on to your appearance. try to spend time with people who respect you for who you are, no matter how you look. try to surround yourself with people and things that affirm you

i hope you start seeing those changes you want to see soon. if you need more advice, feel free to ask! if any other trans girls on E have any advice for the asker, or relate to the experience, please feel free to chip in with some feedback on this ask, or by sending an ask! due to being intersex, i was taking estrogen and progesterone despite not wanting to, so i was not cataloguing what was changing or anything like that, so i can't speak from personal experience there despite having been on E HRT in the past.

take care of yourself for now. try to go easy on yourself, you're still in your coocoon. the day where you emerge as a butterfly is on its way, it just takes a little time. please feel free to come back any time. i hope we can get some good insight for you

[mitsundere]

🔞 can't keep your hands to yourself, can you? [gepard x gn!reader]

NOTE: minors and ageless blogs DNI. 571 words. i haven't written proper reader insert, much less smut, in a while //head in hands

TAGS: thigh riding, gepard awakening that service top in him idk, possible fwb or one night stand situation (relationship is vague) but gepard likes the reader romantically

-

“That… was amazing.” Gepard lets out a shaky breath as you look down at him. His eyes are fixed on how you use your hand to wipe off that bit of drool and spent from the corner of your mouth.

A chuckle escapes your lips, bringing the blond man back to reality. “Glad to hear it.” You look at him with an amused smile, and Gepard shifts uncomfortably underneath you.

“But… What about you?”

He was utterly drained after you sucked the life out of him (heh), but he couldn’t deny that it was unfair for him to be the only one who came undone between the two of you. The flash of confusion in your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Me? I’m good.” You shake your head, looking fondly at the pout on Gepard’s face at your words. “I know you’re exhausted. Don’t worry— I feel satisfied just looking at your cute little face.” Your voice takes on a teasing tone as you cup his face a tad too gently for this to be anything casual.

“I insist.” He squeezes your thighs gently, “I want to make you feel good, too. And I won’t take no for an answer.”

There it was— that Landau stubbornness of his.

“Please.”

Coupled with those puppy dog eyes of his, you just couldn’t resist…

“Alright,” You let out a defeated sigh, moving down to press your clothed sex against his thigh. “But you don’t have to do anything.” There’s a look of protest on Gepard’s face, yet he doesn’t say anything when you give an experimental grind onto his muscular thigh. “Let me do all the work and you can watch, okay?”

“Okay.” Gepard says, a bit too quickly, mesmerized with how you start to move your hips in a steady rhythm against his thigh. Feeling the wetness from your underwear burning hot on his skin. Your consideration of his stamina was sweet— he knew that he made the right choice by falling in love with you, even if you didn’t see him in that way yet.

“Use me.” You had murmured against his lips a while ago. Those words kept ringing in his ears since then, and Gepard would love nothing else but to show you that you weren’t just someone to be used as stress relief.

You had told him to just watch, but his hands twitch every time you let out a sigh while grinding on him, the wet spot on your underwear growing more prominent by the minute. He wants to touch you. To make you feel the same bliss he experienced from your mouth earlier. His expression was cute, you said. Maybe you would make the same face. He wants to see it.

Gepard is a disciplined man, but he doesn’t think he can obey your request of just watching any longer. He gingerly places his hands on your thighs, pleased with how you gasped at the sensation. 

“Let me help you, please.” He knows how to get you by now, using that sweet tone and puppy eyes on you once more. A weak nod from you is all that it takes for him to grab your hips, squeezing just enough to control your movement, and setting the pace. The whine you let out just eggs him on, and he swears that he felt his cock twitch in anticipation, despite having just released earlier.

…He could get used to this.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 3

Source for pic

Trouble 3

Word Count: 4959

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Dead Animals Mentioned; Reader in a terror-like state; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: I should have chapter 4 already finished... but it's not completed yet... I haven't written almost anything this week! I know with the hollidays it will be hectic around here, but I have a few days where the office is going to be closed, so maybe I can write a bit more! Fingers crossed! Until then, please enjoy the calmness before the storm!

Masterlist

“Morning, Bug.” Shanks fills a mug of coffee for you and sets it down on the table near your plate of bacon and eggs, beside a bouquet of wildflowers. 

“Morning, Dad. Thanks for the coffee, but aren't the flowers a bit too much? It's not my birthday…” You mumble between yawns. 

“They're not from me…” Shanks smirks and nods at a note that's tucked in with the silk ribbon. 

Brow rising, your fingers brush the petals of a deep crimson poppy before they catch the note between them. ‘Wild and beautiful, just like you.’

What? Who? 

Despite the lovely gesture, you can't shake the slightest feeling of unease, it tugs at your stomach, leaving you queasy and suspicious. 

“Who's it from?” Shanks tries to hide his curiosity but falls short when he reaches over your shoulder to glimpse the note. 

“I have no idea.”

“Come on! Not even the slightest hint?” You shake your head while your mind conjures up images of a slightly not-safe-for-work dream you had with a certain green-haired cop, and you blush unintentionally. 

Obviously. Shanks picks it up. 

“You and Zoro seemed pretty cosy when I arrived yesterday…”

“It's not from him… I think.” You deflect the implications, not wanting to read too much into it yourself. “He’s not the type for grand gestures.”

Shanks hums in agreement while placing his coffee cup in the sink. “I see what you mean.” But then he places his hand on your shoulder, forcing you to look at his unbearable smirk. “Though do not underestimate a man in love.”

“Dad!” You feel your ears getting hot as you get up suddenly, looking for a vase to set the flowers on. 

“I’m just saying.” He shrugs. 

“He’s not… we… we’re just friends! I just got back.” You fuss with the flowers until they’re all spread beautifully on the vase and then set them at the centre of the table.

Shanks pouts and stares at you through the flowers, across from you. “Friends.” He air quotes with two fingers. “I’ve been there, Bug.”

“Agh! You’re impossible, Dad.”

But he might also be right. Because if last night was any indication, you and Zoro might be crossing the ‘just friends’ barrier soon. 

And, honestly, there’s nothing wrong with that. 

-*-

Shanks tells you to put a hold on your job hunt because he’ll be gone for about three weeks to a month for a horse show on an island in the South Blue and he’ll need you to take care of the animals and manage the farm chores. 

So you spend the next week getting reacquainted with most of your father’s tasks in addition to the ones you had taken over ever since coming back. 

The gifts keep coming. 

Every morning there are chocolates, or flowers, or stuffed animals, little trinkets… The notes are rather simple, always evoking your beauty, but short and nondescript. You are no closer to knowing who they’re from now than you were on the first day you got them.

Shanks keeps hinting that it might be Zoro, but you doubt that very much. Besides the fact that he’s not one for romantic gestures, he would’ve said something about the gifts after six straight days.

And it’s not like you haven’t been chatting… not in person, since you’ve been busy at the farm and he’s been pulling double shifts to have the Saturday off again, but you text every day.

Short texts, to the point, much like Zoro is, but he always asks how you are and if you need anything. 

And knowing he’s trying to take care of you leaves a very warm feeling in your chest. Especially because your clumsiness almost brought you to the clinic twice just this week. You have to thank whichever deity is watching over you because, even though you hurt yourself, it’s never serious enough to send you to the hospital. 

“When are you leaving?” You ask Shanks while packing beverages, muffins and a cake you’ve baked for today’s chosen group activity. 

“Let’s see, today’s Saturday, Beckman says his helper will arrive Monday morning to keep in charge of his farm, so sometime Monday afternoon, Bug. Why? Missing your Daddy already?”

You are.

“No! I just want to make sure you carry all of your medicine and that you have Dr. Law’s emergency contact with you, in case you need it–”

“I’m not going to drag Law all the way to the South Blue just because–”

“I called him and he said you should call anytime, so you’re going to call if you need him!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!” Shanks has got to be the most stubborn man you’ve ever met. 

“Where are you going?” He hisses when you swat his hand away as he tries to steal a salty bacon muffin you’re storing in a container. Then you relent and let him have it.

“Just one, Dad! We’re going on a picnic in the park.” You say with a grin. “Nami organised it, of course. We’re going to spend the day hanging out, playing games, and socializing.” 

Shanks nods, never breaking your gaze, while trying to surreptitiously steal another muffin. This time you slap his hand with the lid of the container, and he yelps. His pout is quickly replaced by a smirk. “Is Officer Zoro going?”

You’re sure your nonchalant look can’t disguise the crimson blush tainting your cheeks, but you try to pay it no mind.  “Yes. And Luffy, and Usopp, Chopper, Sanji–”

“I was going to tell you to be careful, but I’m sure Officer Zoro is going to keep you safe from all harm.” Shanks taunts and you seethe, hands flying to your hips. 

“What are you, Dad, ten?” He guffaws as he successfully manages to distract you and steals another muffin before sprinting away from you and the kitchen.

“Be safe, Bug! Have fun!”

Seriously. How is this man a father?

-*-

Nami swings by your house with Vivi to pick you up for the picnic. You notice Robin’s absence in the car, and both girls giggle.

“Sabo’s picking Robin up. They’ll meet us there.” Vivi answers, and your mouth hangs open.

“Are they a thing?”

“Not yet, but it shouldn’t be long.” Nami laughs as she fixes her hair in the rearview mirror while waiting for the light to turn green. “Much like you and Zoro, I think.”

You choke on your own saliva, and it takes you a good minute to regain proper breathing functions, all while Nami and Vivi erupt into cackles and giggles. 

“We’re just friends!” You say after you’ve caught your breath.

“Sure, honey. We all believe that.” Vivi turns on the front seat to pat your knee in a condescending manner while you blush. 

“There’s so much heat coming off you two whenever you’re close that I don’t know how you still haven’t spontaneously combusted.” Nami quips, and you purse your lips. She’s not wrong there. “I mean, you’ve always sort of clicked, but now… daaaaamn!”

You sigh and bite your lip, trying to contain a giggle from erupting. “Who else is going to meet us there?” You ask, changing the subject and Nami shakes her head, knowing all too well what you’re doing, but not pressing on the matter. 

-*-

It’s a beautiful day for a picnic, and the park is the perfect setting for the beginning of a wonderful midday. There are rows and rows of trees, shade galore, small cobblestone pathways for long walks, and even a small creek providing a soft lull alongside the soft giggles of children. 

You and the girls are setting up rows of blankets on the grass, by the shade of the tall trees, when the group begins to arrive. You lift your head, hand sheltering your eyes from the sun, and scan the crowd. Luffy, Barto, Usopp, Kaya, and Chopper are approaching the treeline. They probably rode together.

A slight breeze dishevels your hair as your eyes linger behind, but there’s no green mane of hair in sight yet. An absent sigh leaves your lips before you spy Nami’s knowing smirk aimed your way.

She doesn’t say anything, but you blush anyway. Her unspoken words linger around you like a thick fog. You are eager to see Zoro. She knows it, you know it, hell, anyone who saw you two interact lately knows it. 

But you vow to retain some semblance of dignity and pretend to fuss over the blankets and small folding chairs. You’re so absorbed in your task that you don’t even see him approach.

“Hey there, Troublemaker, making trouble?”

The smile that graces your lips is instant and unstoppable. You turn slightly and bite your lower lip when your eyes meet his. Why does every shirt he wears seem so tight against his muscles?

“Hardly! I’m just setting up chairs!” But as you deliver the words, the chair you were opening snaps shut, almost catching your fingers, and you yelp. 

“You’re a menace.” His tone is both amused and resigned, almost as if he knew something of the kind would happen, was expecting it, even. 

“It attacked me!” You defend yourself weakly, a giggle bubbling up in your chest because he is right. You are a menace.

Zoro ends up helping you set the chairs, and you don’t even try to stop him. Both because you’re very likely to end up either hurting yourself or breaking a chair, and because he keeps brushing his shoulders and hands with yours, and the touch is welcomed. 

Robin and Sabo arrive with flushed cheeks - you can almost see Nami registering that fact for later probing - and soon after, Franky and Brook, two older men you still haven’t met but Luffy quickly introduces you to, saying they’re also part of the gang. 

You see Sanji already setting up food on the blankets, and he greets you warmly. “Hi, Sanji. You rode with Mosshead?”

“Oi?” Zoro snaps, and you ignore him.

“I did, Madame, and it was the most unpleasant ride of my life. Please remind me not to do it again.”

You giggle when Zoro’s brows knit together, his hands clenched into fists. “Tch, shitty cook, next time you ride with me, it will be in my patrol car and I’ll be dragging you straight to prison.”

Sanji starts to fume, his pursed lips crumpling the cigarette dangling from his lips, and you grimace. “Hey, hey, boys, it was just a joke!”

Nami sighs as they butt heads and continue arguing. “Never mind that.” She tells you. “Any chance they get to get up close and personal, they take it. They have a weird bromance thing going on.” She raises her hands defensively in the air. “I swear, for a moment there I thought they were going to be a thing, but Sanji loves women too much and Zoro is a man with a goal-oriented mind. Even if it’s someone he set his sights on a lifetime ago.”

Your brow raises at her as she smirks that all-knowing smirk. But she leaves it at that and stands in the middle of the boys, dragging Sanji by the scruff of his dress shirt, telling him the girls are hungry, which promptly sets him back to the task of setting up the food. 

“Shitty cook…” You hear Zoro mumble as he sets his hands in his pockets and kicks a blade of grass. It’s cute how flustered he gets. Then his eye sets on you and he frowns with a low grumble. “Oi, I didn’t forget you called me Mosshead.”

You set a hand on your heart, feigning repentance. “Oh, do forgive me, Mr. Mosshead. I forgot your title.”

“Trouble…” He lowers his tone in mock warning, and you smile, taking a step back, hands in a defensive stance. 

“Lord Moss, Knight–” Your antics are cut short by a piercing yelp when Zoro jumps and tries to catch you, but somehow, you swerve away from his grasp and start to run, an unbridled laugh filling your lungs. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I was just joking!”

“Repentance doesn’t dissolve the crime! Come here, Trouble!” He sprints, though you suspect he’s hardly even trying, and you cackle, running faster, the voices of the group fading into the distance. 

“You’ll have to catch me first!” Maybe you should’ve measured your words, because as soon as he hears the challenging tone in your voice, he sprints faster, and you barely have time to breathe before his arm wraps around your waist and he swirls you in the air, making you scream and laugh before he pulls your back against his chest.

Heart pounding against your ribs, cheeks flushed from running and breath catching in your throat, you feel your legs shaking when Zoro’s warm breath tickles your neck. “Gotcha.” He whispers, and you notice he’s not even out of breath while you look like you ran a marathon. 

The world dissolves into just this moment. The chirping of the birds and the rustling of the trees are nothing but background noise to the deafening pounding in your chest and the buzzing in your ears. 

Turning your head slightly to the side, you catch Zoro’s eye fixed on you, a wild smirk on his lips. “What now, officer? Are you going to arrest me?”

Damn. That was supposed to come out playfully, not sultrily. Right?

“Depends.” Did his voice get huskier? “Are you going to resist arrest, Trouble?”

You feel your throat bobbing up and down at all the wild fantasies running through your mind. The way he uses that nickname manages to send shivers down your spine and heat straight into your core. 

“Obviously.” You sound breathless, and it's a good thing you can blame that sorry state on the run, or you wouldn't know how to explain it. 

“Figures.” He chuckles low, and you feel it rumbling in his chest. Then, with a swift movement, he turns you, bends his knees, and hoists you up, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

“Wha–”

“Let's go.” Your flush deepens as you feel his strong hand against the back of your thighs, holding you in place. “The humiliation will teach you not to call me Mosshead.”

“Come on, Zo, I said I was sorry!” You whine, and he stiffens, his pace slowing for a beat, and you feel his shoulders shake slightly. Then he resumes his pace. 

“I like that.”

You stop pounding your fists against his back and raise your brow. “What? Me apologizing?”

He grunts and keeps walking, the blanket and your laughing friends nearly in sight. “That nickname. Way better than Mosshead.”

Oh! Zo! Another small blush creeps into your cheeks, but before you can reply, Nami whistles. “What you got there, Zoro?”

You hear your friends laughing and bury your face in your hands, feeling mortified. “Someone’s been naughty.” Zoro replies with a smirk and an edge of amusement in his tone. 

“Seriously?” You grumble, pushing against his back to try and wiggle out of his embrace, though it’s all for naught because he has an iron grip on your legs. 

“Well, either set her down so we can all eat or take her to naughty jail and punish her. Away from our sight, please.” 

“Nami!” You yell, exasperated, but Zoro merely chuckles, swerving right as if changing directions. 

“Naughty jail it is, then.”

“No, no!” You whimper. “I’m sorry!” Chopper stares at both of you, not sure if you’re being serious, so you try to take advantage of him and stretch your hand. “Help me, Chopper!”

He reaches his hand out before Nami swats it away. “Let them be, Chopper. They need some alone time.”

You seethe at Nami, a pout on your lips. “Traitor.”

Zoro lets out a low chuckle before settling you down at the edge of the blanket. “Learned your lesson, Troublemaker?”

You steady yourself, hands against his chest, and a permanent blush tattooed on your cheeks. “Damn you. I’m never calling you Mosshead again. You won.”

“I see you’re a fast learner.” His smirk is impossibly smug. “Zo’s fine, though.” Then he turns his back on you, opens the small cooler, and takes out a beer, cracking it open with one hand and chugging at it without another look back at you. 

And, damn it, if that doesn’t mess with your heart.

-*-

“Who wants another drink?” You ask and count the raised hands before getting up, heading towards the cooler to satiate your friends’ thirst. Zoro moves his hand before you reach it, and smooths the blanket before you can trip on its raised edge.

You smile at him, but he’s not even looking at you. His eye is shut, one arm behind his neck as he leans against the tree, though you know very well he’s attentive to everything. You pass the drinks around, then return to get your own.

“Watch your head.” Zoro mumbles, and you raise your brow but don’t heed his advice and, therefore, hit a low branch of the tree, releasing a string of curses while rubbing your forehead. “When are you going to start listening to me, Trouble?”

“When you stop sounding like a smug jerk.” You mouth, annoyed at his attentiveness and at how he seems to perceive danger before you even realise it’s there. He chuckles and you retrieve your drink, returning to your seat.

After a while of relaxing in the shade, Luffy drags everyone to a frisbee game. The boys are all down to play, but the girls just sit by a bench near the open space the boys chose to throw the frisbee and tackle each other. 

You sit on the back of the bench, a case of water bottles by your feet because you know the boys will be thirsty soon. Vivi sits on the grass in front of Nami’s legs, and Robin and Kaya are on the bench. 

After a small chit-chat about meaningless stuff, you decide to bring up something that’s been bothering you. “So I’ve been getting a lot of gifts lately…”

Four heads whip your way, and you sigh, already expecting that reaction and the bombardment of questions that follow. So you raise your hands, and they stop to let you continue. Though you decide to focus on the game in front of you instead of the way they’re all staring at you.

You especially focus on a very athletic green-haired man who constantly gazes up to where you are before focusing back on the game. 

“It’s flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals… It started last weekend, after the party at Luffy’s. They have notes, but nothing personal. No name, no nothing… I don’t know who they’re from, and I don’t even know if I should be flattered or freaked out by them.”

“How do they make you feel?” Robin asks, and you shrug, not quite knowing how to answer that question.

“The first ones made me feel good. I thought they were from– I thought I might know who they were from. But since he didn’t say anything about it, I doubt they're from him. So now they just feel weird…”

“Honey, we all know you’re talking about Zoro.” Nami says in a very condescending manner, and all the girls agree.

You sigh and bury your face in your hands. You’re so obvious it hurts. 

“Fine, yes. I thought they might’ve come from him, at first. But he’s not one for romantic gestures.”

“I wouldn’t say that, exactly.” Nami quipped back, a smirk tugging her lips as her eyes fell back on the game. Sure enough, Zoro’s eyes are back on the bench - on you, to be more specific. “I think it’s quite romantic the way he’s always checking to see if you’re safe. Keeping you away from trouble and making sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

A small blush creeps its way into your cheeks. It is quite romantic. “That’s just Zoro being Zoro. He’s a cop. He protects and serves.” You roll your eyes.

“Oh, I’m sure he would like to serve you.” Nami giggles and all the girls try to stifle their own laughs. “But you’re wrong about that. Sure, he’s always attentive to any kind of threats, but it’s different with you.”

“What do you mean?” You can’t stop the way your heart pounds maddeningly against your sternum. 

“She means that Zoro doesn’t usually go out of his way to keep people from tripping on stuff or from bumping their head. And with you, he’s always extra careful.” Robin finishes with a small smile. 

“Like the way he’s playing now, but keeps looking at you to see if you’re still in one piece. It’s like he’s expecting you to spontaneously combust or something.” Kaya adds with a giggle. 

“It’s very endearing.” Vivi finishes, and your blush deepens, so you bury your head back into your hands, stifling a loud groan. 

“But you’re still right.” Nami continues as if you’re not breaking down in front of them. “I don’t think he’s the one leaving the gifts…” She laughs suddenly. “But there’s one way to tell for sure.”

You raise your head from your hand cocoon to tell her to keep her mouth shut, but Zoro is already halfway to the bench and you squeak. “Nami…”

“Hey, Zoro!” She starts with a wave of her hand. You see Zoro raise his eyebrow at her, his long strides bringing him closer to the bench. 

Shit.

He’s sweaty all over. Fat droplets of perspiration drop from his temples to his perfect jawline and neck, and you gulp, feeling hot and bothered. So, it comes as no surprise that when he reaches his hand to grab a bottle between your legs, you lose your balance and fall back on the bench.

Yelping, you expect to hit the floor with a dry thud, air escaping your lungs and sharp pain blinding you. Instead, you feel a strong hand wrap around your forearm and tug hard, then your face being squished against a muscular, sweaty chest.

Zoro saved you from an ugly fall. Again.

“Seriously, Trouble? Why?” His voice is gravelly and rough, but with an edge of exasperation lacing it. “I’m starting to feel like I have to be with you 24/7 or you’re going to end up in the hospital.”

Your breath is still leaving your lips in ragged gasps because of the slight scare of facing an inevitable fall, and your face is still pressed against Zoro’s chest. You feel the girls’ gaze on both of you and Zoro seems completely unfazed by it, while saying you’re embarrassed would be the understatement of the year.

So you disentangle yourself from the predicament that is Zoro’s muscles and laugh it off, a hand scratching the back of your neck. “Ah, thank you. I got… distracted.”

“By what?” He asks while taking a sip of water.

“Well, Zoro,” Nami begins, and he shifts his focus to her, “we were discussing who could be her secret admirer, and then you showed up. Curious.”

“Secret admirer?” Zoro’s gaze falls back on you, his brow scrunched.

“Ah, no. It’s nothing like that. It’s just–”

“She’s been getting gifts. Flowers, chocolates, love declarations…” Why is Nami exaggerating? Is she trying to fish for information or make Zoro jealous? “You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with it, would you?”

He drinks the water in three long gulps before answering, his scowl now permanently etched on his lips. “Do I look like the kind of guy who would do that?”

You look down and bite your lower lip. You knew it wasn’t him, but maybe, secretly, there was still a little part of you that hoped he could be showering you with that kind of attention. 

“Well, I just thought–” Nami begins, but she’s swiftly interrupted by Zoro, whose eyes can’t seem to leave your figure.

“When I want someone, I make it clear I’m interested. You’ll know.” He finishes drinking the water just as your eyes meet his, and the fire burning there scalds and melts. Was he telling you he’s interested? Was he saying he’s about to make a move?

With a smirk, he turns his back, grunts a gruff ‘try not to fall again, Trouble’, and gets back to the game, leaving you more confused than ever. 

“Did he–” Nami starts.

“Nobody says anything. We’re going to act like nothing happened.” You mumble before getting up and chugging down an entire bottle of water yourself to try and calm your nerves.

It doesn’t work.

-*-

The frisbee game makes everyone tired - and hungry - so, after all the bellies are filled again, the crew is relaxing in the blanket, enjoying the warmth of the late afternoon and the lulling sounds of the park. 

Chopper, Usopp, Luffy, and Barto are enjoying a card game. Franky seems interested, but he’s only overseeing and throwing advice that only seems to make Usopp lose the game. Robin has a book in her hands and Sabo’s head on her lap, his eyes closed with a blissful smile on his lips. 

You have serious doubts that she's paying attention to the book, especially since she seems to be stuck on the same page for over ten minutes, but you don’t say anything. Kaya is braiding Vivi’s hair and Nami is snapping photos of the crew, taking little candid shots with her cellphone. Brook is gracing everyone with a nice, mellow song on his violin - he's a wonderful musician - and Zoro seems to be sleeping peacefully, leaning against the tree.

Everything seems peaceful, quiet, and idyllic. 

But you can’t seem to shake the feeling of unease in the pit of your stomach. It’s like someone is watching you, but you can’t quite pinpoint who or where. It’s a prickling on your neck, something you’re already growing so used to that you start to think you should have this checked out by a doctor. 

With a heavy sigh, you stand up, stretching your arms to justify that action. “I’ll be back soon.” You say softly to Nami, who’s closer to you and she nods. Then, you look around before taking a step. The park is one big open space - with the exception of some trees here and there - except for the dense treeline behind you. 

So that’s where you’re headed. 

-*-

Zoro senses you getting up and opens his eye slowly, following you with his gaze and scowling when you don’t see the tree root sticking out and stumble a little before steadying your pace. 

You’re such a damn klutz.

And damn it, if he doesn’t want to be there to catch you and protect you from everything. 

His heart constricts slightly at the thought, and he sighs softly. He thought absence had made him forget how he felt about you. He even had some ‘relationships’ while you were away. Wait… can he really call something that never went past three months a real relationship? He never truly bonded with those women. Never truly cared.

No one ever made him feel the way you did.

The way you do.

But time and distance did nothing but make him pine harder for you. When Nami told him casually that you were returning, he almost didn’t believe her. You didn’t even come back for any of the holidays or to say ‘hi’, let alone come back for good after experiencing life in the big city. 

But you returned.

And then he thought he wouldn’t quite forgive you for having literally abandoned them. No text, no email, no letter, nothing. He would be salty, at least. Grumpy and upset, at most.

But he forgave you instantly. 

One look at your dishevelled form, chasing a goddamned tire with dirt all over your clothes and face, and he was a lovestruck teenager again. 

Fucking heart, what a useless organ. 

All those thoughts forgotten, he simply reached out. And you reached back, almost like no time had passed between you, and you could basically continue your story where you left off. 

And he was willing to try.

Though he didn’t want to rush too fast - damn Nami should just stop intruding and let you two figure things out yourselves. He’d get there. He almost kissed you already, so the feeling is mutual. 

He’s got time.

Sitting up, he watches as you peek behind trees, a cautious demeanour to your posture making him raise his brow. What the hell are you doing?

“Just go to her, dumbass.”

“Shut up, Witch. Mind your own business.”

Nami sticks her tongue out at him and snaps a picture of his grouchy face before turning her phone towards you and snapping another candid shot. 

“You look like a lost puppy in love. It’s cute, you know? The way you keep looking out for her.” Zoro feels his ears heat up and leans back again, trying to close his eye and return to a state of relaxation, but he can’t very well do that when you’re doing God-knows-what near the trees, looking creepily at everywhere and everything. “Just make sure you make your move soon… or maybe that secret admirer will one-up you and poof!” She makes an exploding gesture with her hand, and Zoro scowls at her. 

“You’re insufferable.” He quips before getting up and dusting his jeans.

“Word of the day? How smart of you, Zoro.” She giggles when Zoro passes by her and messes up her hair with his hand, earning an indignant gasp from the orange-haired girl. “I just went to the salon, you brute!”

Zoro smirks at her reaction and starts pacing towards you, Nami’s antics behind him. Well… all except one…

‘Make sure you make your move soon…’

Perhaps he should. He doesn’t want to lose you before even having the chance to have you.

Tag list: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks

[yooniesim]

Just wanted to let you know that tearybite might be making some good points but shes over on twitter acting the fool throwing the R slur about on the daily and interacting positively with transphobic and ableist accounts.

There are better people out there making the same points. This girl is just mack with a dental plan.

Nonny, im going to sue you for making me look on fucking twitter smh. it's like i can feel the terminally online virus entering my veins 🤢

anyway, I'm all for getting the truth out, but what we're gonna do is try to be accurate in our claims bc atp I hate random people the internet just saying whatever they want because they dunno how to compare bad behavior accurately. Mack was an extremely fucked up bigot that was openly racist, ableist, transphobic, targeting black & trans ppl specifically, and harassed many people on this & other platforms for months at a time. What we're not gonna do is compare anyone to that freak without sufficient evidence to back up that claim. Ppl can have levels to their shittiness so let's remember that first. Unlike Mack, I'm... hoping she'll have a genuine change...? 😭 (inb4 my hope for ppl gets destroyed yet again)

Now... when I went on Twitter and skimmed, what i saw was an account that seemed to make fun of some transphobic/awful ppl (nick fuentes, djt) at times, but an... overall concerning amount of slurs and questionable vibes. Now idk what her story is, idk if she's trans and/or autistic & doing the reclaimed thing or if she genuinely just throws slurs around bc she thinks it's ok for some awful reason, but yeah. I'm kinda getting the vibes that she could be autistic (hence the referring to herself/inward with the slur at times) but i just personally don't really like ppl throwing that shit around flippantly like that. Plus the trans shit and tweet re: white sins gave me a specific ick. I'll post what I saw & let yall judge for yourselves and if she wants to respond she can, or not. She said shes a lurker on my page so I'm sure she'll see this. I'm thankfully not online enough there to say if the other accounts she interacts with are known bigots or not so I can't really say on that. Is she as bad as Mack? I don't think so. But it's a lil... it's a lil ick ngl.

(tw for r slurs, trans related slur, yt ppl, kinda weird vibes idk)

Edit: there's more that I missed, seems like there's a lot of dogwhistles and shit. I haven't been online enough lately/on Twitter enough to recognize it all but yeah. It's giving Terf vibes too. Ick.

[just-existing-as-you-do-blog]

Just me screaming about Virwood really quick:

"Don't run away from me right now." "Okay." Elwood abandonment issues in the phrasing there. Also just the immediate okay changed my brain chemistry.

"I thought that I could fix it and if I could fix it then I wouldn't have to keep it a secret for longer. I didn't want to ruin things." Virgil! Noooo! Also yeah that tracks with Pietro saying that Virgil would know what to do.

"Yes I would take that on! I would take in any weight to make things easier for you." Love confession number 1

"No! It's not happening. I'm not letting it happen. This shit happens to good people. It happens to good people and kind people and I'm tired of it happening to the people I actually care about." Love confession number 2

"I'm not going to accept a world that you are not in." Love confession number 3

"I don't have the words for this, but I care about you so much. In a way that I don't have the words for for the first time in my life." Love confession number 4

"Don't apologize to me. I'm glad you told me. If you hadn't told me I doubt I would have any amount of courage in saying anything." Love confession number 5

"Like I said people care about you, in more ways then words can say." Still part of love confession number 5 but HELLO?

The hug was more dramatically satisfying than any kiss could have been.

All the "Kite and Prejudice" jokes are funny because it's giving Jane Austin mixed with dark Romantisism(the literary movement not dark romance novels)

"Don't try to play hero." GOD IT'S SO DRAMATIC AND TRAGIC.

"Normally you're warmer than me." SHUT UP. Virgil is managing being gay very well by not dying on the spot.

Accurate depiction of confronting your own mortality.

Okay. Okay. Actual analysis time.

It's 1 am whoop whoop.

I like that they haven't said love yet! I like that love wasn't a word, they didn't need to say it. Especially since they said 5 separate love confessions as I have listed. I LOVE that they didn't kiss, they didn't need to (though I won't ever mind if they do.) Also I'm ripping apart the tragedy of it with my teeth. It tastes like grapes.

Also Virgil wanting to bear the people he cares about burdens along with his anxiety makes me think this void sickness thing is going to be a bad time for him. A REALLY BAD TIME.

And poor Elwood's previous belief that he is the common factor for why people leave him WHILE he has a partner who is dying means that this is also going to be a really bad time for him.

Anyway, bad times and demiromantic feelings all around! Love is an action. They are birds of words. I can't wait to see where this goes.