#these types of little observations by them about the other keeps popping into my head so here we are

[sunflowernyx]

MSR Drabble: The Little Things

Word count: 350+

***

It’s in the little things.

“Can I borrow this?” Scully asks.

She twists her torso, leaning out from the shadow of his bookshelf to show him the academic text she’d plucked from his collection.

Mulder props himself up on the couch cushions, his elbow becoming an easel support for his chin, so he can better study her. There are two types of mysteries always in his life; the ones found in his files played out in front of him, and the one Scully always poses.

Sometimes they intertwine like lovers’ hands.

“Sure,” he says. “Keep it.”

It’s one of the psychology books from his MA year. He hasn’t had a need for it in years, knowing every word by heart from just a skim.

She rolls her eyes at him. “If I actually kept every book I borrowed from you, all your books would eventually find their way to my shelves.”

Mulder’s smile is a Cheshire grin, lazy and slow to bloom.

“I know,” he says. “I take it as a compliment to my taste in reading material.”

And he hopes that one day he might be able to slip in with the last volumes. Like a cat finding its way home with familiar things, to curl up unnoticed until she won’t want to get rid of him.

Scully wrinkles her nose on principle. “Maybe not,” she corrects softly, turning her profile to him to run a finger across spines on a particular shelf. “I wouldn’t want to keep your paranormal junk.”

Liar.

Dana Katherine Scully is a little liar, he thinks fondly.

She hides it well, misdirects with the way she turns his psychology and profiling book collection into her own private library to lend from. But he has heard her quote enough of his books on witchcraft, alien abduction, and all things paranormal; has found enough of his books on the topic mysteriously missing and mysteriously returned again exactly a week later, to know that she is reading through even the texts she scoffs at.

For him.

It’s in the little things.

But it’s little great things like this, the disappearance of his books, the way she picks him apart through the words on his shelves, in his head, that she gives away she loves him.

[bloodykora]

Scrapped Knees

Hehe I just started writing and this came out. Hope yall enjoy, more stalker mc content.

MDNI this game is 18+ therefore so is my writing. TW: mentions of blood, and the normal yandere tropes TKATB List

'Hey so uh I may be a smidge late. I totally did not fall and scrape the fuck outta my knees. :)'

You hit send and wait, looking down to your legs that are now dripping with blood. The concrete making a perfect target. You glance back to the phone, those three familiar dots appearing as Sol quickly typed back.

'Oh wow, where? I'll just meet you there with some bandages. Don't hurt yourself further.' Your face pops into a huge grin while reading his text, you look around for a place to sit. Finding a curb where you could plant while you waited.

'I'm like.. a block and half down from the cafe. But I can meet you!' You text back, taking your bag off and setting your phone down. You pull your legs near your face, observing at the carnage when you hear your phone buzz again.

'No, stay. I'm coming.' You smile and shake your head a bit, giggling at how easy it was. Bait set and trap. Not very easy to fall just enough to only damage your knees, speaking of. Your gaze falls to them again, using your fingers to pry out the few rocks that had settled into the wound.

It wasn't long until the sound of steps echoed closer to you, relaxing your legs out instead of being scrunched up. You turn to look down the road, Sol speed walking with a plastic bag in one of his hands and his backpack slung over the other shoulder.

"Hehe hi, sorry about this." You sheepishly spoke as he approaches you, setting both of the bags he had down along with yours. He immediately kneels down to look at your legs, gently taking them into his hands. Heat of embarrassment building in your body as you watch his eyes.

"You need to be more careful." His tone darker then normal, flutters of butterflies in your chest as you hear his words. Need to be more careful, careful for him because he cares. He practically rips open the bag. Gauze and bandaids, cotton balls along with two bottles of water. Even some pain meds.

"Where did you get all that?" Turning your head to the side a bit in confusion as you eye all the supplies. He cracks a top of one of the bottles off, taking out a few cotton balls before pouring some water on them. Dabbing it to the scrapes.

"I ran to the little store down the road. They luckily had this stuff." Your smile grows wider at his words. "Sol thats so nice!" The words spill out before you can even think about them. A small blush now filling his cheeks as you reach out to hold his arm. Rubbing along his long sleeved shirt.

The stinging of the cuts barely being noticeable as he touches your skin. Sticking dried blood now being wiped up, the sound of the plastic bag crinkling when he throws a cotton ball out. It goes quiet as the sun begins to set, orange skies casting over the pair of you.

He begins to open the band aids, choosing which size would fit over your knees best. You admire him, taking in his hair, his face, his piercings, his black painted nails, the way his eyes fix into a stare as he begins to concentrate on something. He places two band aids on one knee, covering the now beginning to scab parts. He then begins to repeat with the other.

"When you're all done, are you gonna kiss my boo boos better?" You ask earnestly, his stare blanks for a second before a small smile appears on his face. "If you really want me to." His smile turns into a smirk at your face blanking, your ears burning. It quiets down again as he finishes patching you up, gentle with his touch.

"Do you want any pain killers?" He asks, finally looking back up to your face as you shyly shake your head no. He then keeps eye contact with you as he lofts your knee to his face, closing his eyes softly. Then pressing his lips to the bandage. Your hands fly up to your face, covering your face. Too embarrassed to even look at his face afterwards. A low chuckle hits your ears causing you to shake your head in reply.

"Uhh anyways!" You shout behind your hands, trying to change the topic. Peaking out as he tucks the extras into his bag. "Its gonna be dark soon now, how about I walk you home?" You remove your hands and agree, smiling as he puts his hand out for you to take to get up.

"Yeah! And we can finish up the assignment there too." He nods as you two start walking as the street lights begin to turn on around you.

[mauvecherie-writes]

the kaleidoscope theory: l.hamilton.

• pairing: lewis hamilton x kalani halloway.

• chapter warnings: infidelity.

• ru’s 💌: i won’t be giving out chapter summaries for this story as I genuinely want this story to the kind that you engage with without any hints given. if this story is a success, who knows what the future could be for it 😉. don’t forget to comment, reblog and like 💋.

• tip: kofi | paypal

• w.c: 1.03K

PROLOGUE

JUNE 2022.

The Thompson Hill youth football club the ‘Thompson Tigers’ had won their away match against another local rival team so their energies were still high as the group of young teenagers congregated in the Nando’s restaurant. The team took space at the back of the building but their table had a good view of the high street outside.

“How can you call yourself a Nigerian but you’re ordering lemon and herb?!” Tyrique, the goal-keeper of the team, criticised Michael - one of the defenders. “You’re a disgrace to your ancestors.”

“First of all! I’m half-Nigerian and two, not all of us were born with the devil’s arsehole for a mouth.” The remark caused an eruption of laughter throughout the restaurant.

Emil, who had been quiet in his corner with one headphone covering his ear just chuckled to himself and shook his head as he turned back his attention to the video that was playing on his phone. The footage was of him at the recent match. He had scored twice, his last one being the deciding the goal of the match.

It was something that he was proud of but there had been too many missed opportunities but the rival team had put on a good defence and were quite aggressive with their offence. However, he felt like he could have done more. If he was going to get scouted, he needed to be better.

“Right Emil, what am I getting you lad?” The Thompson Tigers’ head coach. Raymond Wright asked the young boy.

“Erm, just a quarter hot spice chicken with spicy rice and coleslaw . Refill drink please.” Emil ordered his food.

“Any desert for the man of the match?” Emil felt his cheeks warm at the statement. Everyone had agreed that he had deserved the badge of honour. Throughout the entirety of the match, Emil was the man lifting the spirits of the other players, keeping them going.

“No, I’m okay. Thanks coach.” the older man patted his shoulder and then walked towards the counter. As Emil turned his attention back to his phone, a message popped up.

Mum ❤️: Coach just sent me videos of the match! You smashed it honey and I’m so proud of you! I’m sorry that we couldn’t make it. But I will be making your favourite food tonight. Love you baby boy.

The message caused him to smile. His mother was always expressive and she did not care that he found it a little embarrassing and cringe, especially when they were out together in public.

He quickly typed a response back.

Emil: Thank you mum you only missed this one match and that’s only because Titi is sick. As long as I get the most plantain on my plate, we’ll be okay.

Exiting the message thread, he clicked on the thread that he shared with his father. The last message that he had received from his dad was in the morning and it was a google luck text. Emil was a little disheartened but he knew that once his father knew about the results of the match, he would reach out.

Emil shook his head as he locked his phone and took his headphones off so that he could join in conversation with the rest of the team.

Coach and a couple of teammates returned to the table with some refill glasses and cutlery. Emil was focused on cleaning his fork and knife when his name was called out.

“Wassup?” He acknowledged his teammate, Jamal, who had called out to him.

“Isn’t that your dad?” He used his head to indicate towards the window. Outside on the high street was a parked uber and outside of the vehicle stood a man. Emil observed the man. The man’s back wasn’t particularly large, he was just tall. The back of his shoulders stretched out the fabric of the fitted suit and it was in a colour that was typical of the navy blue colour that his father would wear for work. Whilst Emil took after his mother’s rich dark skin - his father was more of a lighter brown that, when it got too hot, he would tan.

And it wasn’t until Emil spotted a tattoo of a small bird behind the man’s ear did it full recognise in his brain that the figure was his father.

Without a further thought, Emil shot out of his seat and rushed towards the exit of the restaurant without a care. His dad was outside and the joy riddling his young body was uncontainable. Months of not having his father not being able to turn up for any of his games, him making that extra effort when his mother was home bound with his little sister meant the world to him.

He swung the door of the restaurant open and only slowed down to cross the road, Emil ran over. Suddenly he stopped in his tracks and frowned in confusion at the sight a few feet ahead of him.

Just a few steps in font of him, Emil watched as his father, not even turn to face him, but to open his arms as a woman get out of the fashion boutique they were standing in front of. It was a woman he recognised but in that moment, Emil could not put a name to it.

The woman jumped in his father’s arms and embrace him the way that he had witnessed his mother do so many time before. Emil’s brain was trying to catch up with what was happening but his body was already reacting.

He felt his heart pinch with an acute pain that made it harder for him to breathe. Then tears began to well behind his eyes as the pain was becoming too much as the confusion mounted.

And yet, it wasn’t until his father kissed the woman did that confusion and hurt manifested into a deep betrayal and a furious anger.

His quick feet propelled him forward until he felt his hands pushed against the bodies of the adults, breaking them apart.

“What the fuck Dad!” He yelled as the older man stared down at him with a panicked look washing over his face.

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @emjayewrites @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @samiwzx @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @perfecttrashface @alianovnaromanovanatalia @leilaxaliel

[bird-inacage]

Love Sea the Series: Intro (First Impressions & Predictions)

Because I'm a huge over-analyser whose known for my lengthy BL essays - here are my takeaways from the very brief glimpse we got to Mahasamut and Tongrak. They gave us literally a 1 minute teaser, so as you can imagine, I'm filling in a lot of blanks at this stage.

TONGRAK

Tongrak looks like he's going to be an unapologetic menace. A very sexy and sassy menace. He has an air of blasé indifference which screams 'yeah and so what?' you're not the boss of me'. Someone whose clearly a bit prickly, petulant and headstrong. Writers are often independent or even loners, as it's a very solitary field. They have a very strong vision of what they want, which can mean a reluctance to compromise.

I mentioned that he gives 'I know I'm hot shit' energy. He exudes a confident sexuality which is shown in how assertive he is when flirting and the smugness in how he retorts. He knows he's hot commodity and isn't afraid to flaunt it. Probably is used to having people wrapped around his little finger. 'We play by my rules, I decide if I want you or not'. At worst he may even see people around him as playthings.

Based on the general premise of the series, Tongrak comes to the seaside for inspiration. Uppity cosmopolitan city boy thrown in to the bohemian outdoors. He looks very noticeably out of place in this setting. But he may use that to his advantage, knowing others are looking at him, dazzled by a prince in the middle of literal nowhere.

MAHASAMUT

Now what comes across most strongly about Mahasamut is that he's clearly very possessive. This is signposted multiple times in this brief introduction alone. He steals Tongrak away when he's flirting with someone else. He drags him by the wrist across the beach. I assume at this point they've not known each other long and he's being very handsy and grabby. He asserts that Tongrak 'will have to love him.' (Which could mean: I'll make you fall in love with me whether you like it or not, OR you falling in love with me is inevitable because I'm just too goddamn charming). Pretty presumptuous all the same.

This tells us that Mahasamut is equally self-assured. He has bags of confidence in his ability to keep Tongrak interested. Though he's being turned down, he doesn't appear dissuaded or phased in the slightest. Whether this is due to being generally a bit thick-headed, or putting on a front in order not to let Tongrak feel like he's won, is too early to say.

It's also worth noting that people who have such confidence in their conviction often haven't failed before. And there's a certain naivete in that. It's the whole 'through hard work and determination I can conquer all' mentality, which is not always the case.

RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC

Now what really fascinates me about this collision of personalities is that these two are going to butt heads. A lot. Whether that's in a good-humoured tug of war, or a stubborn battle of wills. Tongrak is resistant in a 'I refuse to compromise' type of way. Mahasamut is persistent in a 'I refuse to let it go' type of way (like a dog with a bone). Neither wants to give in. Both are declaring, 'you're going to want me'.

So Tongrak and Mahasamut are not your typical match on paper. There will be fireworks (most likely good and bad). It'll probably take them much longer to find equal footing that goes beyond just sexual attraction or lust. This is why I've got a hunch the love scenes are going to pop off. We're going to get angry sex, I'm calling it now.

You could argue that Tongrak and Mahasamut do share some similarities with Sky and Prapai - particularly with the bickering and chasing - just dialled up to 100.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS

ATMOSPHERE: The setting by the sea should prove to be a really interesting way of playing on tone. Watching those two interact whilst the wind blew around them, with the crashing of the waves in the distance was a whole mood.

CONTEXT: This feels leaps and bounds removed from the more grounded setting of Love in the Air. It almost feels like a summer fling. We're getting what appears to be a more adult backdrop, which I always greatly appreciate within the BL genre.

STYLING: Tongrak's outfits are going to murder me. The silky, drapey, billowy, low cut shirts with ample collarbone on show? CHRIST. Paired with the dainty jewellery. Kill me now.

Also, love the fact they were referring to each other as 'MISTER' and 'SIR'. Like SIR, DO YOU MIND? SIR, I'VE GOT A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU. SOMETHING GOT YOU HOT AND BOTHERED, SIR?

[cosmolog]

Father and Son?

Moon knight x fem!reader

So, I just found a comic with Spider-Man and Moon Knight and it's inspired me to write this. They both act like smartasses to one another so there will be a bit of banter in this.

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

"Okay, so what's the plan here?" I was crouched on a rooftop, Marc was slowly pacing around behind me. Venom's head floated beside me, mentally informing me of the number of heartbeats in the abandoned warehouse.

"Pretty straight forward, one of us goes in and drives them out to a secluded spot along the canal. From there we can question them." Marc's smooth low voice spoke from behind me. "After that...well, either we leave it to the law or we finish them off."

"Sounds like my type of party." Venom grinned.

Marc's mask appeared and he stopped beside me. I stood up and turned to him, Venom also looking at him. "Yeah, yeah, let's just try to keep everyone alive tonight, okay?" I looked between the two of them.

Marc shrugged a little and looked down at the warehouse. "I'll go in, flush them out"

I nodded. "Scream of you need help" I teased.

Steven fronted and looked at me. "Pop the kettle on, love. We'll have this done in no time" He fixed his suit before jumping from the roof, Marc fronting again and using his cape to glide to the warehouse below.

I shook my head and crouched again, waiting patiently for Marc to do his thing.

Marc landed and quietly snook up to a hole in the roof, looking into the warehouse, seeing men with guns that were almost alien. Some of the men were making more of these weapons while others either tested them or guarded the place. "Who are these guys?"

Venom and I glanced at each other. "What's the problem?" I asked, while noticing a familiar red and blue suit swing down to land on the warehouse.

"They're making weapons with some kind of alien shit" Marc said. "I'm gonna go have a look-"

"Hey, Moon Knight!" Spider-Man whisper-yelled and he crouched beside Marc.

"I'm busy, Spider-Man." Marc said lowly.

"Egyptian stuff, right? I bet it's Egyptian stuff" Peter smiled excitedly behind his mask.

"Not everything I do is 'Egyptian stuff'" Marc shook his head.

"Right, right. Gotta catch the other ones too, right?" Peter scooched a little closer to Marc, watching what he did as he observed the warehouse full of weaponized criminals.

"Are you enjoying your father-son talk?" I chuckled into the Comms. Of course, Peter, with his super hearing, heard my voice and gasped.

"Y/n is here? Where is she? Probably up somewhere..." It didn't take long for Peter to spot me using his suit's heartbeat scanner. "Oh, I see her" Peter waved to me and I waved back.

"Anyway, gentlemen, can you raid the warehouse already?" I urged.

Marc looked from where I was to point at Peter. "You. Stay here" He said before quietly jumping down and landing in the warehouse, the moon putting him in a spotlight in the dark warehouse. "You have a license for this place?" He said, rather loudly, all eyes turning to him with their weapons raised.

Spider-Man landed down behind his shoulder. "Yeah, seems like an illegal gathering to me" He joked.

Marc's head snapped to look at him. "What did I say?"

"I don't like to listen" Peter shrugged before starting to web up some criminals.

Marc sighed heavily at this before punching a man who came up to him with some kind of alien-modified baseball bat that glowed a raging purple.

The fighting went on for a while. I switched my position and sighed softly. "Marc's probably gonna kill poor Peter"

"You know when Peter finds out about me, he's gonna be outraged" Venom spoke.

"Well, if you hadn't gone and caused havoc while we were separated, we wouldn't even have that possibly. But, you just had to go and ruin it" I huffed.

"It was fun!" Venom argued.

"I can be fun too!" I glared at him.

"It's been ten years since you've stepped foot in a club" Venom scoffed.

"Yeah, because I'm older now and clubs don't appeal to me anymore"

"So you have lost your fun" Venom stated.

"No"

Meanwhile Marc and Peter had finally taken out all the criminals. Marc went poking around for information on this group.

"The Vulture?" Marc whispered.

"Vulture?" Peter quickly walked up to see what Marc was looking at. "Wait a second...I know him!"

Marc looked at Peter, his mask disappeared as he furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean you know him?"

"He...uh...well, there's this girl at school that I really like and-"

"Skip"

"He's her dad" Peter summed up. "Her dad's Vulture"

"So you have a name for me" Marc guessed.

"Uh...well, yeah. But that's my future girlfriend's dad, I don't want to mess things up"

"Peter, he's a wanted criminal who happily killed a few people to get this alien shit" Marc pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

Peter sighed defeatedly. "Okay, fine. I'll handle it."

"Are you sure you're up for that?" Marc raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, yeah. No problem" Peter shook his head.

"How's the situation going?" I spoke into the Comms.

"We're done" Marc replied as he and Peter walked out of the warehouse.

I had now travelled down to stand outside the front of the warehouse. I stood with my arms crossed, Venom had gone back inside so Peter wouldn't see him. "What happened to flushing them out?" I joked.

"Decided to keep the noise level down. Give you a day off" Marc smirked as he and Peter walked up to me.

Peter immediately hugged me, making me chuckle. "Long time, no see, Pete" I smiled. "How are you? How's school? See any cute girls lately?"

Peter chuckled. "I'm good, school's good. And, uh, yeah"

"Tell me all about it" I walked with him before Marc's voice stopped us.

"Y/n. About the stuff I found-"

"Marc, let's put a lid on it for now, yeah?" I suggested. Marc reluctantly nodded.

The night went on for another little while before I reminded Peter he should probably get home and sleep a while before school started. He agreed and hugged me goodbye before looking at Marc.

"Goodbye, sir" He smiled, pulling on his mask.

Marc nodded curtly. "Keep your grades up, kid"

Peter nodded, waving before jumping from the rooftop and swinging home.

I cuddled into Marc as we stood watching Peter swing away. "He's like our son" I smiled.

Marc went silent, glanced at me, then back at Peter's fading figure. "Yeah" he said, so quietly I could barely hear it.

I rested my head on his chest. "You wanna go home?" Marc spoke softly.

I nodded. Marc's mask appeared on him and I held onto him tightly as he flew into the air and took us home.

[vibratingskull]

Hi! I saw your open to chiss requests? I’ve just read the thrawn ascendency trilogy and I’m down bad for Somakro. Grumpy man with a loyal heart of gold?? I’m down so bad.

Anyway. Maybe a fluffy fic about Somakro having feelings for a fellow officer? Maybe he sees her help little skywalker chiri with something and his heart melts because he already respected her military prowess but she’s also good with kids??

I’d really take anything

Grumpy man being a sweetheart deep inside!!! 🥹🥹🥹 It woos me every time! Come get your glorious man and sweep him off his feet!

art by @jun-c

Samakro x F!Chiss!reader

Tags: Fluffy fluff, lil bit of childcare

Samakro types on his questis, keeping a sharp gaze on the officers under his command and Ch’eri on her chair.  When he is on the bridge nothing escapes him, he becomes an all-seeing being, monitoring his warriors and keeping tabs on everything happening. His subordinates feel him looming behind them and straighten their posture by reflex. 

The Springhawk leaves hyperspace in a resounding thud, shaking everyone present. They arrived. 

“Send me the last coordinates of the Pirates.” Samakro orders. 

He spins to go sit in the command chair and has to muster all his will to not take a step back before you. He didn't hear you approaching. You smile gently, handing him a microchip. 

“The coordinates, sir.” You say respectfully. 

Well, that was quick! 

That was instantly even. 

He takes the chip and inserts it in the port of his questis. 

“I will also need the calculations of their last 8 travels recorded, their spotted hideouts, and the audio recordings of the messages in their native language.” 

“They are all in there.” You nod. 

Oh... 

Well, it is refreshing to have officers able to think ahead. 

“I highlighted the pirates’ favorite routes and calculated some probability for their possible next spot appearance, I noticed a trend in the hours they chose to attack the Ascendancy. They seem random but there is a constant of 3 days and 5 hours between each of them, rinse and repeat 5 times then they disappear for two weeks to a month and resume.” You explain. 

Samakro looks at you, almost suspiciously. 

“And you noticed that alone?” 

“I studied the data during my break times.” 

That’s a heavy workload that you just lift from their shoulders. He and Thrawn will need to check if you are correct in your speculation but that will not take more than 45 minutes to review the data. 

“Thank you... Officer (Y/n)’(F/n)” He finally says after ogling you for several mute seconds. 

“Of course, Sir!” You stand to attention with a smile and walk away. 

He pretends to look back to his questis once again but looks at you walking away. That is not the first time you proved yourself zealous, and the Chiss expansionary defense fleet adores those types of behavior. If you are indeed right in your analysis he should keep a closer tab on you, you may become the next prized pupil of the fleet and his job is to facilitate your accession to higher ranks for the common good. 

He observes how you chuckle and give handshakes to several colleagues as you take back your place. You are visibly popular, which can also be an advantage in the future. With his gruff personality, Samakro was not really appreciated in the ranks of the Navy and counted his friends on the fingers of one hand. 

You do not seem to have that problem. 

“Skywalker Che’ri, you may return to your room and rest.” He orders, refocusing on the data. 

“O...Okay...” He hears the tired voice of the little girl. 

He sniffs, eyes on the screen when reality strikes him. 

Thalias is with Thrawn in his office! 

He spins his head just in time to see the little girl losing her balance as she heads toward the door. 

He is about to throw his questis to the other side of the bridge and lunge to catch the poor child when you pop out of nowhere and receive her little body in the security of your arms. 

“Careful there, Che’ri!” You chuckle with a bright reassuring smile, “I would hate for you to hurt yourself!” 

Samakro finishes crossing the bridge to join you both and kneels next to you. Che’ri raises her visibly tired face toward you and sighs. 

“I... I am sorry (Y/n).” she says almost in tears. 

The kid is exhausted, they had to push her limits to reach their destination. Usually, even Samakro is uneasy with the idea of overworking a child, but those pirates kidnapped several Chiss girls. 

Several potential Skywalkers... 

They NEEDED to arrive before all of them, and for that, they needed Che’ri to push past her limits. But now she is obviously distraught, and Samakro feels a pinch in his heart. 

But you simply laugh and caress her hair gently. 

“Do not be, silly. You worked really hard today! You deserve a warm dinner and a good, long night’s sleep!’ 

Samakro witnesses as you casually kiss the top of the head of the little girl. 

Where does that familiarity come from? 

But Che’ri doesn’t seem weirded out by your action and even presses her little cheek against your arm hugging her. Che’ri sighs again under the caresses on her hair, she looks ready to lose consciousness. She clearly is in no condition to walk back to her suite. 

“Skywalker Che’ri, with your consent I will carry you to your suite, all right?” He says, extending his large hand to her. 

You both turn your head to him, you with a silent approving gaze and her with drawn features and glossy eyes.  

He knows Che’ri is kind of afraid of him. He doesn't exude the calm and paternal aura Thrawn has around the girl, he is too rough around the edges to her liking. 

But she takes his hand nonetheless with a tired nod. 

“Okay...” 

You help him lift her by seizing her hips and he wraps his arms around her solidly to not let her fall. He feels her tiny arms wrap around his solid neck and her face lays on his shoulder, she hugs him like she would a plushie. You both stand back up and he heads toward the bridge door with the most precious package ever in his arms. 

“Junior Captain, I leave you the bridge for now.” He orders, crossing the bridge door. 

He doesn’t say a thing but he feels silent tears starting to wet his collar and shoulder. Poor little one... 

“Do not cry Che’ri, you did a really good job today.” Your voice rises out of nowhere. 

Samakro stops dead in his tracks, realizing you are following him. 

“Why are you here?” He demands, “I did not authorize you to leave your post.” 

You tap your chrono at your wrist with a grin. 

“My shift just ended.”  

He sniffs. 

“Then go eat and rest. I am taking care of this.” 

“Oh, so you know where her nightclothes are and where she puts her favorite plushie?” You ask with a surprised but gentle expression. 

He considers you in silence for several seconds. Did you ever give a bad look to someone once in your life he caught himself wondering. 

“Because you do, perhaps?” 

You snigger and enjoin him to follow you. 

“This way, Mid-Captain.” 

You walk beside each other, Samakro with his usual gruff demeanor and you a silent confident smile. You turn to look at him and your smile stretches more. 

“What is it, Officer (Y/n)’(F/n)?” He inquires, looking straight ahead. 

Usually, he hates being ogled like that, but this is not the effect your gaze has on him. 

Instead, he feels... Shy? Unconfident? 

Why is that? 

He is surely a little sick... 

“Nothing.” You shake your head softly, “Or rather, yes: Do you have kids Captain Samakro?” 

He feels his eyes rounding up at that question. What... What made you think it was appropriate to ask such a thing?! 

“No, I do not. I am not married.” He recovers the control of his expression. 

“Oh really? Paternity looks really good on you! You always look so... Moody but watching you taking care of Che’ri shines a new light on you.” 

He side-eyes you, looking for mockery on your face. But your red eyes shimmer with a gentle warmth and your grin is soft.  

“Although...” You take a step closer and lower your voice like you are about to share a secret, “After that scene, you may not remain unmarried for long...” 

This time he fully turns his head toward you, with an indignant expression. What got over you? 

“Do not look so shocked, Captain. What is truly shocking is that you are still single!” You raise an eyebrow with a know-it-all expression. 

“And in what way is it shocking exactly?” He demands with a haughty voice. 

“Now come on... The gruff big man with a secret heart of gold! It’s a classic.” 

“It’s a cliche!” He corrects, “And we are not in a holo.” 

“But you look like you come straight out of one!” You keep going, “You could have done modeling or acting with such a face! Oh, all the broken hearts you would have left in your trail...” 

Samakro reassures his grip on Che’ri’s body to put on a front, but inside he feels turmoil.  

Why are you complimenting him so much out of nowhere? Why would you... 

Oh for fucks sake...  

Politics. 

He sighs internally, really he can’t escape politics wherever he goes! Now it has to walk next to him in the corridors of the Springhawk... 

He is about to open his mouth to shut you down for the rest of the day when an ungodly sound resonates in the corridor. You both look at Che’ri, who seems to bury her face harder in the crook of his neck. 

“It wasn’t me...” Samakro hears her muffled little voice. 

“Oh, Che’ri...” You put your hand on her back to caress it gently, “It’s okay, dear. Wait, I think I have something in my pockets.” 

You search your pockets until you take out a cereal bar that you give to the skywalker. She eagerly takes it, opens the package, and bites into it immediately. Samakro observes the little girl’s expression relaxing as she eats the treat. 

“Good thinking Officer.” He nods to you, “You seem to have experience with children. I imagine you have one?” He throws back the question at you, see how you like it. 

“Oh no.” You chuckle, “I am unmarried too.” 

“Really?  A motherly woman like you did not find a man to wed?” He mocks playfully, raising a haughty eyebrow at you. 

But... 

For some unknown reason 

He is relieved to learn you are single. 

“Alas, I did not!” You laugh, unbothered, “All my other partners were rather immature, not husband nor father materials... Contrary to you, Captain.” 

He stops again. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Only that your time of celibacy might be more short-lived than you expect.” You grin, “People talk to me, sir. You are quite popular.” 

Great... a fat lot of good that does him! 

“I am here to serve the Ascendancy, Officer! Not to find a wife!” He clarifies harshly. 

Which prompts your grin to grow larger again. 

“This is exactly what Fleet Admiral Bak’if  said before finding a wife in his crew!”  

“I am not Fleet Admiral Ba’kif.” 

“True, but you might be our next Fleet Admiral!” You theorize, “You have all that is needed for the job: Courage, a cunning attitude, great tactical abilities, charisma-” 

“Drop the compliments.” He cuts you short, at the end of his patience, “What do you really want?” 

You consider him, mute for the first time. 

He gauges you back. If you play politics, you are way too upfront about it! Complimenting someone so much is so amateurish... 

But  

That is not what makes his blood boil he realizes. 

What makes it boil is that you may compliment him for a hidden goal and not because you truly mean it.  

He should not care. 

But the thought that all your words might be false in your head... Stabs his heart. 

He mentally shakes his head. Why does he even care what you think in the first place? 

... 

Because you are a great officer, with a lot of good qualities. One of those that are too rare. He met plenty of good officers, but rarely great ones. And seeing one playing the political game so badly, risking getting caught and destroying their own career like that is disheartening. 

Yes 

This is surely why he feels like that.. 

No possible other reason! 

You squint at him, your soft expression gone to leave the place to a more... thoughtful one. 

And to his surprise. 

You start giggling. 

You let out a breathy laugh before hiding your growing elated smile behind your hand, your red eyes shimmering like glitter and pure light. The notes of your laugh are like none other, they rise high, where the angels are. They are like a song to his ears, a delicious melody he never heard before but he feels like he has known all his life. 

Are you... Mocking him? 

Usually, he would use his Captain’s voice and shut you down harshly, disciplining you into obedience and teaching you respect for your superior.  But he feels his legs melting into jello and his heart picks up pace in some sort of panic he cannot explain. 

Why do you have such effects on him? 

“What did I say?” He finally demands, trying to sound intimidating. 

Not really succeeding. 

You take a step closer and your hand travels from his shoulder to his hand and you intertwine your fingers.  

And for some reason 

He lets you do it. 

Samakro isn’t used to small physical acts of affection. He collects partners to get his release and then they both go their merry way. He knows why he is seeking them out and they know why they accept him in their sheets, they do the deed and never speak ever again. 

It is simple and effective. 

But somehow. 

The simple act of holding your soft hand puts him in turmoil even his most kinky partners never managed to do! 

He feels his heart accelerating and his breath getting more shallow. 

This... is not an act of lust and primal carnal desire.  

But of tenderness and affection, such simple fondness and adoration.  

He should rip his hand out of your grip, he knows he should. 

But it is beyond him. 

He feels more naked than he ever has in his entire life, making his stomach twist and a strange warm sensation spread in his stomach. 

Making him feel... fluffy. 

You gently raise on your tip toe and very slowly, very gently, kiss his cheek. 

It is short. 

It is chaste. 

It is sweet. 

It is utterly devastating. 

He audibly gasp despite his best effort at the touch of your soft lips. 

Wh... Why do you make him feel like this? 

He turns his gaze to you, unsure, to discover you looking at him with pure, raw adoration in your burning gaze. 

“Let’s put Che’ri to bed, and then we will talk over a cup of caccoleaf. I will explain everything.” 

And you boop his nose with the most mischievous grin he ever saw. 

“What do you say, Mid-Captain?” You tilt your head. 

“All... All right.” He finally gulps, his throat dries like the desert. 

For some reason 

Sharing a cup of caccoleaf cup with you is the most thrilling proposition anyone ever gave him. And he had numerous proposition. 

You squeeze his hand gently in yours, your soft confident smile on your face, looking sure of yourself, you guide him yourself in the corridor. 

And for Samakro for whom getting power and obedience from his crew was his goal... 

He thinks that following someone’s else lead might not be that bad after all... 

Especially yours. 

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss @pencil-urchin@ineedazeezee @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @obbicrystaleo @germie2037 @leo4242564@davesrightshoe @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni 

[gaytommykinard]

little (big) snippet from the next aka the last chapter of and i'll use you as a focal point aka my saltommy fic especially for riley @rdng1230 <3 and shoutout to kayla @agenttommykinard for saving me from having to google american beer names. again.

Sal’s already started on dinner by the time Tommy comes into the kitchen, having changed out of his jeans and into a more comfortable pair of sweats, and there’s something rattling around in his head about having had stripped out of his clothes in Sal Deluca’s bedroom without ending up in bed with the man. 

“Ooh, bacon,” Tommy reaches for a piece from the block Sal’s cutting into little square-shaped pieces, popping it into his mouth.

Sal looks up, shooting him a glare, though there’s an undercurrent of fondness in his gaze, the corners of his mouth threatening to pull back. “It’s guanciale, you heathen,” Sal shakes his head as he returns to the task at hand. “Why do I even bother to cook for your unappreciative American ass?” 

“Excuse me, Mr. Italy.” 

Tommy tries to grab another piece but Sal swats his hand away; he doesn’t look up this time, but Tommy can see the easy grin curving his mouth, charmed by the back-and-forth between the two of them. He looks most like himself in this setting; Tommy’s come to know him well enough that he knows when Sal is at ease, without that tension that he carries in his shoulders at work and around his family. He wonders when it might’ve happened, the first time Sal put his guard down in front of him, if he would have even noticed it − maybe if he hadn’t been so caught up with holding up his own with an iron grip. 

Tommy goes to fetch himself a bottle of those fancy beers that Sal mocks him for liking but still keeps a stock of a few bottles in his fridge, and pulls up a chair and plops down at the island, sipping on his drink and watching the chef work. He spins the bottle in his hands idly until Sal tells him to make himself useful and grate some cheese, pulling out a wedge of pecorino from the fridge and setting it down in front of Tommy next to the grater. 

Tommy’s glad to have something that’ll keep his hands busy. He’s barely had a few sips of the Wisconsin Belgian Red but there’s a warmth flowing through his veins and he doesn’t think it’s the 4% alcohol that’s the reason for it. 

“We could go to Hi Tops again,” he says after a moment of silence, the pair of them working in tandem.

“Oh yeah?” Sal turns to the stove, the guanciale dropping into the hot pan with a loud sizzle, then turns around to face Tommy. “No, no! Tommy!” He reaches out and flips the triangle grater over to the finer side, shooting him a pointed look. 

Tommy blinks, his face the picture of innocence. 

“Just give it here,” Sal grabs the cheese from his hands and gets to work. “Can you get the eggs from the fridge?”

Tommy rolls his eyes as he gets to his feet. He tries to not be too annoyed that the conversation has been derailed. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a control freak?” 

“You love it.” 

“The bartender asked me if you were my boyfriend,” Tommy finally says. “Last time we were there.” 

“Oh yeah?” Sal breathes a laugh. “What’d you tell him?”

Tommy reaches for his drink in lieu of answering. The cool liquid helps settle the nerves rising in his stomach. It’s ridiculous that he has to put this much effort to keep himself grounded for something as simple as this. “He also said you might have been trying to make me jealous.” 

Sal laughs again. “That’s a very observant bartender.” There’s an ease with which he speaks the words as he moves around the kitchen that drives Tommy crazy, both with the desire to pin him to the wall and kiss him stupid, and in the sense that he’s way too fucking nonchalant about this − about everything. 

“I’m gonna tell him you are,” Tommy says finally, a certain type of solid determination in his tone. “Next time we go.” 

“I’m what? Trying to make you jealous?”

“No. The other thing.”

Sal spins around slowly, and his eyes meet Tommy’s. He’s smiling something soft. He puts the wooden spoon down on the counter, rounding the corner of the kitchen island towards Tommy, a hand at the back of his neck to pull him down for a kiss, chaste and closed-mouthed, his plump lips slotting between Tommy’s like they were made for it. His thumb is caressing Tommy’s cheekbone when they break apart, eyes meeting again. 

“You can tell them whatever you want,” Sal’s voice is merely above a whisper. “To whoever you want.” 

“Really?” Tommy asks, but he doesn’t give the man a chance to reply before he drapes his arms around Sal’s shoulders, tips his head down to kiss him again. Sal’s arms wrap around his waist and pull him closer and Tommy smiles against his mouth. “You don’t think you’re exaggerating a little bit maybe?”

“No, I’m not,” Sal says, jutting his chin out. “You want me to call my mom and tell her?”

Tommy breaks into a fit of nervous giggles at the thought; God, he wouldn’t be able to ever look Mrs. Deluca in the eye ever again. He drops his head against Sal’s shoulder to hide the blush on his cheeks. “You wouldn’t.” He says, because he knows that Sal is just trying to rile him up, make him squirm. 

“I’ll call her right now.” 

“Shut up.” 

Sal presses his lips to Tommy’s neck before disentangling himself from the man, pulling away entirely. “Let me make us some food, yeah? You just sit there and be quiet.”

[blade-that-was-broken]

Intro, Stories, and Commissions!

Heya! This is my anonymous little blog for my current fixations and interests! I am currently cutting down on social media so I am no longer active here but I am keeping the blog up so if any others have any interests or want to go through some of the things here, it is applicable.

My AO3 is still up and if I ever have things I write, they will likely go there. Below are some notes on the works I have done for this account. Thank you for checking it out! And I hope you find some interest!

Name: Luthien or Blade

Age/Gender: adult woman

Notes About My Work

Focus on familial and platonic bonds

Any romantic notions are never the focus

Minimal swearing on my part

Family friendly art and writing with some violence

No nudity, serious gore or smut

Feel free to ask any questions about anything - I absolutely love answering comments and questions in the asks.

Listed below not only my current series but also some other writings that I have finished! Feel free to check them out! I'd love to know what you think! Also listed are other fandoms that I am interested in and feel free to ask me about any of them! Enjoy!

Series!

Here is a Link to my AO3

I’m Still Here - BASIC Finish

An AU where John Dory comes back to the Tree a bit earlier to raise Branch only for sixteen years later of traveling on the road with his little brother to give his life for him. Branch finds Pop Village at 16 and goes through the events of the canonical movies with the background of being a wandering traveler with his brother.

Type: Multiple Books

Question to the World - prequel mini series - ✔️

Head Above Water - movie one - ✔️

World to Change - movie two - ✔️

Moment to Be Real - movie 3 - ✔️

Words and Whispers - Collection of Snippets

For This You Were Born

In an AU where Brozone doesn’t exist and trolls can trade their lives for the safety of their families, a mother tricks her eldest son only for him and her youngest to end up in a fight for their lives against a Bergen.

Type: Multi Chapter Short Series

For This You Were Born - finished ✔️

Silence the Doubt - finished ✔️

By Design a Victor -

Half Life

In a human AU, John Dory has been working for years to get custody of his four brothers from his parents. When he finally gets it, he finds he had to fix what he inadvertently broke. As he tries to juggle a new life and protect his brothers, he does his best to repair his relationship with them.

Type - Single Multichapter, Extra shots

Breathe Again - multi chapter

One Shots/Other

Trolls

Something to Believe In - An amnesiac John Dory arrives at Pop Village and ends up raising his youngest six-year old brother. (non-sequential shorts)

Things We Lost - Clay is snatched one day, only to be saved by his amnesiac older brother, who has no idea who he is and believes his brothers to be dead. (one shot, finished)

Divided Frame of Mind - Branch, Bruce, Clay and Floyd search for John Dory, only for Holly Darlin' (Trollstopia) to tell them he's staying in Lonesome Flatts. However, when they get there, they are not greeted how they expect. (one shot, finished)

Smoke and Starlight - a continuation beyond TBT, helped Poppy with an annual world meeting and learns about his parents and his brothers as he helps set up. (multi chapter, wip, Branch, JD and Floyd centric)

Keep Me Breathing - Upon being rescued and traveling back to Pop Village, Floyd makes some observations about his older brother and gives him a hug - which, turns out he really needed (one shot, finished)

The More I Learn, the Less I Bleed - an argument erupts in the bunker one night where the brother learns a horrifying truth - their oldest has been living his life in time loops; one of which including the last performance they did as a band. (one shot, finished)

Soldier On AU - human au, concept - John Dory hasn’t seen his brothers since their parents divorced when he was fifteen. Twenty years later, he is discharged from the military after an explosion and is slowly reunited with his brothers. (concept, snippets only)

Batman/Nightwing

Halfway Gone - Damian comes to Stephanie about Dick Grayson's apparent death with a theory. She believes him. After all, he is their Batman. (one shot, finished)

I'd Give You My Lungs - Jason had never heard the wail of a father losing his son tragically too young before. But when Damian dies, he does. (oneshot, finished)

I've Got You, Brother - Jason is glad he's the one who finds it. Jason hates that he is the one who finds it. But his brother is alive. And he needs to find out what happened. (one shot, finished)

[highhhfiveee]

melodic stoner thotz

i’ve ALSO been having this silly thought about stoner!mike (who we haven’t seen in so long, i’m so sorrrrry). pls enjoy these unedited, unproofread thoughts that i typed instead of doing my work.

i listened to brie larson’s version of black sheep the other day (plus roomie and i watched the new scott pilgrim show, 8/10) and i started thinking about popstar!reader. hear me out;

you’re in a girl group, one that i currently have no name for, and you’re starting to gain traction in the states after releasing your debut album; you make high energy pop bops that emphasize on being true to yourself and standing up for what’s right with three other girls you’d met in the hallway at auditions. you’re grateful for the opportunity of course, but it’s not exactly what you’d wanted for your music career.

you have little creative control, and you’re told to sing and dance and dress a certain way; it’s a dream and a nightmare in one, and sometimes it has you wanting to leave the group all together, starting from scratch with music you actually loved.

you’re thinking about marching to the execs with your grievances when your manager sends a message to the group chat: WE’RE OPENING FOR [unnamed band that’s as big as say…the 1975 lmao] ON THEIR FALL TOUR!!!

you loved [unnamed band] and to support them on the North American leg of their tour is something you know you’d be idiotic to walk away from.

the city mike and abby live close to is stop 4 out of 10, and you’d been doing good with keeping up your charade of happiness. you sing and dance your ass off every night, knowing that you’re here and you can’t waste a moment of it; millions of aspiring musicians had wanted this but you’d finally made it to the stage.

you rarely ever fumbled during performances, a perfectionist at heart, but during the verse of one of your mid tempo songs, your eyes somehow gaze past the blinding stage lights and focus on abby (who you don’t know as abby of course lol), shouting every single word back to you with silly shimmies and head bobs.

you laugh, consumed with butterflies at the fact that she was enjoying your set so much. you’re enthralled by her energy, and it causes you to miss your cue for the prechorus. you giggle it off though you’re flustered, singing, “we have a lot of songs, my badddddd” to the melody of the music.

it makes the crowd explode with laughter, and you use that to propel you through the rest of your set, still looking towards abby as you present the outro during your final song. “thank you all so much, we love you! [bandmate 1] and i will be by the merch table once we’re off stage, and we hope to see you some of your faces there! are you all ready to see [unnamed band]????”

the crowd roars, and you watch as abby and the guy next to her disappear through the throng of people.

abby rushes straight for you once you’re sat at the merch stand, her cheeks flushed as she holds out her t-shirt for you. it’s one from your group’s first small tour, one where you’d gone to small cities throughout the country for as much exposure as possible. it was a size to big for her, draping down to her thighs. “y/n, i love you!!! can you please sign my shirt?”

“of course, cutie. i saw you dancing to [song name], is that one of your favorites?” abby nods excitedly as you scribble her name on your shirt, accenting it with a heart. you glance up at mike, who just stands behind her observing your interaction. he’s high as shit of course; he’d been a blob next to abby, really, bleary eyes and stationary, but seeing him this close revealed to you the stoner boy of your dreams.

“i take it you’re a big fan too?” you point the end of your marker at this chest. he’s wearing the same old tour shirt as abby, but his fits him well. he can’t believe your focus has moved to him now, and even though he should feel cool and calm off the edible he took before your set, your enticing gaze has him grasping for straws inside his mind.

“uh well, i…i really do it all for her, but you guys do have some solid songs. got some on your album that make me feel all powerful and sexy when i listen to them.” you both chuckle, and you motion for him to give you your hand.

you scribble your number onto his hand in red ink, musing, “well, i always love to hear what people think about our stuff. maybe…when i’m done with tour, you could tell me more over a joint or something?”

mike’s mouth goes dry, drier than it already was, but he’s nodding all languidly, leaving you with a small smirk when you give him his hand back. “yeah, yeah. sounds like a plan.”

this is kind of messy but do you all see the vision????? a full fic would be wayyyyy more structured and detailed, but i just NEEDED to get this idea out and i wanna know what you all think 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔 (it would be like safety net with more smut and a tinge more angst, but definitely fluffy as hell too. like you confide in mike about the reality of your situation and he encourages you to fight for what you believe in, like one of your group’s songs ;-; still there’s lots of drama between you and the other members and the LABEL and so many entertainment people——me thinks it would go kind of nuts)

[garnetholy]

The First post.

Hi. I've been thinking about starting a blog for a while now. A few things that stopped me were: firstly, I was absolutely not sure that I would be interesting to anyone (to be honest, I still have this feeling, but I decided that this would be my archive of notes, which would be useful to me in any case), and the second reason is that I know for sure that I won't be able to keep any blogs regularly due to my mental state. And I also couldn't choose a nickname... Um... This is definitely the main reason :D

I don't know much about how people usually start blogs (frankly, I don't know much about how to start anything), so I'll just use the first post to introduce myself and experiment with hashtags. So if you happen to see this post, it's nice to meet you.

I won't give my name, but you can call me Garnet.

I'm a girl studying programming in college. I don't really want to be a programmer, but I entered college just to get into something, because I don't know what I want anyway.

English is not my native language, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes (I combine my knowledge with a translator).

I live in Russia, so I often experience different types of discrimination, because it's quite common here. I'm especially personally affected by misogyny and mental health stigma. In my country, we have a little (or not so little) punitive psychiatry, so I can't decide to visit a psychiatrist for a long time, and all my mental problems cannot be clearly named (although I have suspicions). Recently, I finally dared to go to a CPT psychotherapist, but this experience was negative. Maybe I will write about it in one of the next posts.

Next, I would like to write about my health and how I feel.

I will be hashtag all my posts #undiagnosed until I have a medical confirmation of my mental state. So what do I suffer from?

Well, I have been suffering from depression for over five years now (obviously no diagnosis).

I have also always been anxious and withdrawn since I was a child, as far back as I can remember. I had obsessive compulsions as a child, and I still have them now, but in a different form.

I seem to be sociaphobic, every interaction with people brings me some amount of stress.

I am very anxious. I'm not sure if I have panic attacks because I have a hard time understanding the concept. I constantly feel like I don't suffer enough: my "panic attacks" aren't strong enough to be panic attacks, my "depression" isn't strong enough to be depression, my problems aren't problems enough to be problems, etc... I feel like people around me are facing much worse symptoms, even if they describe them exactly the same way I do.

I struggle with compulsive thoughts that pop into my head due to certain triggers or circumstances I find myself in.

I have bouts of derealization and depersonalization (again, no diagnosis, like everything else). I don't know what's happening to me, and it used to scare me in the past, but now I've gotten used to it. I have bouts of terrible fear of death, alternating with... The opposite thoughts sometimes, I don't want to write this directly.

Oh, and the main thing is that for about ten years now the strongest escapism has been my way of life. I don't want to be in reality, I don't want to feel this world, so I spend most of my time (and life) listening to music and immersing myself in my fantasies.

I could describe in detail each of my mental states that I just listed, but I'm afraid it would be too much text for one post. I think I will write about my experiences and symptoms in future posts, gradually revealing more details and nuances if I have something to add.

I don't know if anyone will stumble upon this post of mine, but if they did, I think I would be happy and scared at the same time :D

And please forgive me if I clutter up the hashtags with ADHD and OCD and other diagnoses, because I'm still not sure if I have them, all I have for now is just my own observations. I hope I can find a good private psychiatrist and learn something about myself.

12-01-2025 (dd-mm-yyyy) 04:04 GMT+3

[basedkikuenjoyer]

If Only There Were a Word to Describe the Enormity

Big doesn't quite cut it. So things went a different route, but walking a line along what our less recent arrivals did. This is a big, huge (no that isn't it) chapter for the Nika mythos. Sets the stage for a divine presence to cap off the end of another's story. I definitely feel that vibe with Bonney's role in all this, what a turning point and one that definitely reminds me a lot of little Otama. We've been here before with trying to predict Egghead. Opting for repetition of core themes, doubling down on what we had and making it bigger in scope over moving towards resolution. Interesting crossroads. This could swiftly turn towards that surface-level resolution but honestly I wouldn't be surprised at this point if we spin our wheels for a little more then go into that third cutaway, ending up with an arc around WCI-length.

The hook is an idea we're familiar with. Keep your eye on Luffy. Never see his eyes, how he just kinda leaps back in leaving this little gap about being fed and ending up downstairs unresolved. Mostly though, he's full-blown teeheemaxxing in a dire moment. Which is on brand for Nika but our whole idea is there's an undertone based on the notion the drawback to G5 is losing control. It all goes back to that observation our finale could be constructed a little more like a YuYu Hakusho type series than other shonen; you've gotten your ultimate power a little early because our ending will be more about learning to control it.

Oh hey, these guys. Seriously...nice. The Giants are very important to my fandom. Y'all know how much I love Miss Goldenweek and by extension Little Garden. Oimo & Kashi are where I caught up the first time. I remember being about two weeks away from starting freshman year of high school at the tail end of a summer binging the hell out of so many anime thanks to this newfangled DSL high speed internet. The way that came up again blew my mind, and seeing Dorry & Brogy almost twenty years later is so damn cool it makes me forget all about the not being the Grand Fleet aspect.

I mean, that was always just a specific and early guess. They still have sprinkled into these cutaway segments though. This pair just saw the paper and hurried over. Maybe they were expecting Luffy to head to Elbaf next after his time in Wano? Which is a very interesting concept when we've talked about Egghead being a somewhat "lateral" move with no clear goal set to advance our main progress through the Grand Line.

It's also pretty interesting to blend two long-running threads through this Nika lore. How do Bonney/Kuma & the giants intersect? Does it reinforce the need to pop the mystique of the spectacle? Does Luffy jump from one legendary story to another? The Fleet was the way to end it here. The giants tease it out more. At least as long as Shanks isn't following. But there's one last little element that makes me interested in the undertone like always, as we started off pointing out how that's still very much an element if you watch for it:

Robonosuke! Interesting how he's finally coming back around. It does look like he's reacting to the heartbeat but I'd point out we did let most of the chapter roll before showing this when Luffy went G5 at the start. The idea was always asking if that's a potential blip of something weird. The kicker with the Giants to me is how Dorry and Brogy seem to both be coming for Luffy and for the Sun God. We'll talk a lot more about them tomorrow and especially a titanic (oooh, yeah that's the stuff) wrinkle all around our beloved Strawhat Sniper Usopp I feel silly for not thinking of already. It's justified through what we learn of Elbaf in the Big Mom flashback.

Oddly enough, gets me right back to where I felt about Bonney right around the time this arc started. Remember? We're puzzled about Kiku's odd ending to Wano and all of a sudden Bonney picks up those threads in a big way. Now moving into more of that alternate protag space a lot like Yamato. Never forget, we know there was a rewrite behind that hiatus for a reason. So now...even if it's not the Fleet I can't help but notice how Dorry and Brogy specifically amplify the same ideas.

Either way, Robonosuke is coming online. We still have a little weirdness in the gaps. I'm curious as hell were it's all leading so bring on the big bois.

[ybblue]

Your Boyfriend, Blue

I'm fleshing out what my YB is like since I'm rather fond of the idea everyone has a unique YB just for them. Feel free to keep reading!

Stats:

Nickname: Blue Age: 29 Pronouns: He/Him Skin Color: Blue Eye Color: Blue Hair: He has short hair!

In this universe, everyone is a 'blurbo,' which I am defining here to mean "blob-like character," where your hair/skin tend to match colors, people can be any color, and everyone is even more cartoonishly drawn than normal.

YB, himself, appears much more docile and soft, filling the role of a sub male yandere. YB in this universe is named Blue by his Y/N.

Myers-Briggs Type: ESFJ (extraverted, observant, feeling, judging) Core Traits: Warm Affection, Energetic, Detail-Orientated Flaws: Obsessive, Insecure, Hesitant Quirks: Stalker, Pop Culture Nerd, Aspiring YouTuber

While most YB are antisocial, Blue is really great at fitting in and hiding his antipathy from people around him. He knows you need people to survive, and he makes due. (In a meta sense, he was born later than his counterparts in the other universes and has seen what being a vicious asshole gets you in the end - your Y/N's hatred!)

Blue knows he has a lot of natural charisma and puts it to work. He is very extraverted and people tend to like him. Given how much practice he has put into his façade, Blue is quite good at convincing others that he likes them and he can get along with practically anyone.

Random Factoids:

(As spoken in his voice.)

"I'd have to say my favorite color is purple. Why? No reason. I just like the color." (His Y/N has purple skin in this world.)

"Mmm, favorite food, now we're talking! It's so hard to pick just one thing, you know? If I want to sound sophisticated, I should say I like something fancy, maybe something French? But, if I'm being honest with you, the minute I smell movie theater popcorn, I go feral."

"Naturally, my favorite book changes all the time, but most recently I read This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone, and it's blown me away. There's just something about the way those two characters love each other... It's beautiful, and I relate to it, though I don't think I can really explain why. I heard about the book from some guy on Twitter named Bigolas Dickolas."

"So, everyone has a favorite movie, right? Really, it's more like a comfort movie. It's a movie you watch that always cheers you up or just reminds you of the best things in life. There's this silly little movie called Densha Otoko, Train Man in English. It's this Japanese flick that's supposedly based on a true story of some guy who saved a girl from being harassed on a train. He falls in love with the girl, but he's too shy to ask her out. Random people on the internet on a more wholesome version of 4ch*n basically cheer lead him into asking the girl out. Really, the whole movie is sweet. It always lifts my spirits when I see it."

"There's only four seasons, but all of them are pretty good in my opinion. Just when you get fed up with one season, the next one is just around the corner. I guess, gun to my head, I'd pick winter, but I can't really explain why that is. Winter just seems... and pardon my pun... like the coolest time of year. Everything is dark, things are dying, and honestly the cold is used to represent a lot of villains in stories. But, on the flip side, winter is when most people have a lot of holidays and get togethers and the like. Not that I experienced it for myself yet... but, I think winter might be the best season because its easier to justify snuggling up with your partner. Just thinking about pulling someone close under the blankets while you watch a cliché holiday movie... doesn't that sound like fun?"

"Dogs! I love dogs for sure. They are so loyal, you know? Supposedly if you kick a dog, it will still love you, not that I'm advocating for that, but I just think its fascinating for a creature to love so unconditionally. Maybe its weird, but I relate to that a little bit."

Well, that's all I have for now. I really like Blue a lot, so I'll probably post some more random stuff. I might even make an attempt to draw random comic stuff with him in it.

[phantasthesecond]

split tracks chapter two time !! i’m definitely trying to work out an update schedule and so far with my up and down motivation biweekly seems stable enough :]

check it out on ao3 if you prefer that!

or read below the cut!

general summary :

emmet goes home early; both in hopes of solving his headache, and solving the mystery behind the day’s happenings.

word count :

1,712.

he did, inevitably, check out early at the end of his break, as much as he hated the sentiment. nobody on staff seemed to dare ask why; both of the subway bosses hardly took off time, so any point in which they did take breaks for themselves was not to be questioned.

fumbling for his house keys, emmet slowly unlocked the front door, closing it behind him. hanging his coat and hat on the rack next to it, the man trudged himself straight to his room, pinching the bridge of his nose with a grimace.

putting away all his work things, he also made sure all the latches on his team’s pokeballs were open, so they could come and go as they pleased while he was fixated on what he needed to do, despite the still mounding headache.

quickly getting himself in an outfit more comfortable for around the house leisure, ( or as close to leisure as he could get, ) he picked up his laptop case from his nightstand, which was fondly covered in all sorts of gear station and bug-type stickers, before settling in a cross-legged position on his bed, the notes and fabric scraps carefully held in one hand.

archeops was one of the first to come trodding over out of intrigue, hoisting himself up onto the bed with his feathery claws and sticking his snout underneath emmet’s arm while staring up with wide, curious eyes.

emmet could not help but snort at that, briefly acknowledging the fossil pokemon with a scratch under the chin and a tilt of his head.

“ thank you for checking on me, archeops. i am doing something important right now. i ask you to keep your cab settled. ”

seeing as archeops’ response was to wriggle into a more comfortable position, still resting his head in place, emmet was quite sure the message got across.

opening his laptop with a hum, he unfolded the paper scraps, checking them both over a second time.

‘space-time distortions.’

so he had mixed up the name earlier. not too big of a sweat.

quickly entering the phrase into the search bar, idle hands made their way to scrolling, silver eyes skimming across the screen as emmet silently hoped something, just something , would shed more light on the subject than what paper scraps could.

clicking open one of the links, emmet leaned forward, squinting faintly at the screen. clearly copying the man’s behavior, archeops outstretched his neck, his snout resting on the corner of the keyboard.

something about “ultra wormholes,” now. how they were similar to.. whatever had torn up his and ingo’s offices.

..if this stranger just wanted to give him a worse migraine, goal achieved. at this point, even staring at the laptop screen had begun to hurt, firing off little pops and sparks behind his eyes. emmet pinched the bridge of his nose with a deep inhale, holding said breath, before letting out a sigh.

clicking on the screen reader with a scowl, emmet set the laptop on his nightstand, rolling over on his side and listening begrudgingly as a monotone voice began to drone the article out loud.

archeops snuggled his way up against emmet with a concerned chitter, and the silver-haired man simply responded with a hum.

“ ultra wormholes have been a recorded phenomenon in alola for centuries and still occur in modern time, unlike its ancient sinnohan counterpart, space-time distortions. distinct holes in space that lead to other dimensions entirely; through intensive research, it has been observed how pokemon manage to traverse them with ease, but have proven to have detrimental effects on the human body. ”

emmet could not help but tense at that, lips pressed shut in a thin line. even if it was a robotic, disembodied voice emitting from his laptop, and not something that could comprehend the bubbling stress and anticipation sitting in the back of his throat, there was still a silent indicator of a “ hurry up, ” practically spilling off the man in waves.

“ in recent influxes, people who have reportedly fallen through these aforementioned wormholes have suffered severe bouts of amnesia; that, at least, seems to have stayed universal between the two variants. in older times, it was rumored that one of ancient sinnoh’s wardens, and even the hero of hisui herself, had fallen from these spatial rifts, never to return to their home time. “

so if either of them had fallen in; emmet thought, with a mounding sort of dread in his throat, they would’ve been plunged to dragons knows where with no recollection. great to know. chills practically rolled down his spine as he shuffled to shut off the laptop; he had heard enough for now, and he was feeling no better

arm falling slack over the side of the bed, the silver-haired man lay still there for a few moments, eventually hoisting the stray limb back onto the bed and under the covers.

archeops had made himself cozy curled up on top of the blanket at emmet’s side, chittering and crooning with an occasional parroted “ safety checks! safety checks! “ in an attempt in echoing ingo’s voice.

oh.

right.

he had checked out early.

which meant he would be home alone for the next few hours.

drawing in an inhale, emmet buried his face in the pillow, with a long, exasperated sigh.

..it wouldn’t kill him to take a nap.

unfortunately for emmet, he apparently wasn’t allowed to have nice things anymore.

for one, his so-called ‘nap’ went on way longer than he would’ve preferred; there was no light coming through his bedroom window. considering the light switch was off as well, it was safe to say either ingo or one of his pokemon had shut it off.

two. his entire top half was freezing. and soaked. and there was a small weight on his chest; not a joltik, he would’ve been electrocuted by now. considering the tiny bits of something solid he was able to pick out in the dark, clinging to his hair, skin, shirt; it was snow.

another heap of half-melted snow.

balling his hands into fists, he shoved off the covers, grabbing whatever was rested on him with a loud string of half-coherent expressions of annoyance, storming across the room and flicking the switch on.

yep. more snow.

well, at least whatever distortion thing this time didn’t tear up his room.

now pausing to look at the object rather harshly grasped in his hand, he seemed to fumble with the thing for a few moments, squinting.

it resembled a pokeball, sure, but it seemed more…worn. old. weathered.

it was definitely empty; flicking open the latch, ( not a button, oddly enough, ) emmet was, in fact, able to confirm the thing was vacant. it didn’t have the same plastic and metal hand feel, though. the reddish half seemed slightly more weighted, as if carved from stone or rock, while what would’ve been the white half seemed almost wooden, indicated by texture, coloration, marbling; everything.

it was fascinating, quickly derailing his thoughts to examine such a thing in his hands, yet oh-so frustrating once his train of thought returned to the station. right. his bed was still soaked. so was he.

checking the time on his xtransciever, which was charging on his dresser, it read roughly 8:30.

alright. his head didn’t feel like there was a firework show setting off inside it anymore, so maybe it would be a good idea to report this whole…distortion situation to someone.

according to that article, there was a branch of the interpol that could handle that. the station in nimbasa wasn’t too far away; he considered it walking distance.

quickly changing out of his cold, drenched pajama shirt and bottoms into something more presentable, emmet grabbed his casual coat, pocketing the odd pokeball as well as archeops’ while walking and fitting his arms into the sleeves at the same time, leaving his room and making his way down the stairs.

the feathered pokemon in question, who had hopped his way to his little bed after the distortion had decided to drop a heap of snow into the room, quickly followed, returning to his pokeball once he had caught up with emmet.

( seeing as the kitchen light was on, ingo was likely in there, presumably having his evening tea. the tv was running in the background; some documentary, if he tuned in hard enough. ingo wasn’t much of a documentary person unless it was intriguing; he simply enjoyed the background noise. )

emmet never understood how he enjoyed that stuff.

the tea, that is.

ingo always liked his drinks sweet, so emmet only wrinkled his nose in contempt when he noticed the cup in his hurry down the stairs.

( the silver-haired man looked up from his mug, leaning against the counter with a hum. resting the cup down, he took a few steps in approach, raising a brow. )

“ emmet? where are you going at this hour? it is not exactly late, but i was told by cameron earlier that you were not feeling well, and you were asleep by the time i got home to ask how you were doing. ”

“ i am emmet. i am filing a report to interpol. i will be back in the next hour. i am verrry much fine. ”

emmet’s hand rested on the door handle, briefly, before quickly making his ‘escape’, leaving ingo very little room to question why.

( ingo was not stupid. the other’s rushed departure and lack of clarification was plenty of a clue. emmet did not lie often; he knew he hated doing such a thing, but withholding things masked behind vague words was something he apparently wasn’t opposed to. )

( plus, he had explained nothing about what had happened that morning. asking to check his office, slamming the door shut, and walking out like a hurricane had shredded through the room with bits of glass and debris digging into his skin like nails. )

( emmet was a bad liar, but he was worse at making what he was doing seem insignificant. grabbing his coat, keys, xtransciever, and chandelure’s pokeball, ingo turned to follow; in his pajamas and a trench coat, sure, but clearly not intent on being left in the dark. both literally and figuratively; it was dark outside. )

[walleeli]

Matchup exchange with @lumiambrose

This was so incredibly fun to put together! I've never done one of these before so thank you for being willing to take a chance on me LOL Hope you enjoy!! <3

I match you with… Mr. Reca

Hear me out! (my reasoning)

I think the piqued interest/mutual fascination loop you two could have would go crazy. Freak matching but specifically for behavior observation. Am I making any sense at all. 

It takes a special type of person or a special type of situation to break through your more antisocial nature, both of which you can and WILL encounter with Mr. Reca.

I think that Reca is able to have his interest piqued by anyone. He is inherently interested in others in a way you are not inclined to be. A necessary aspect to get through your barriers. Given that it is unlikely for you to take the first step in engaging. 

The banter. The banter. Please consider the banter. Unstoppable force vs immovable object. Why is the collegiate national debate tournament happening between takes of this fantasy romance film? Everyone is confused and a little bit intimidated and no one is doing anything to stop it.

Aesthetically, visually, I think this matchup slays. The type of couple that walks into a room and everyone present thinks "that makes sense." It's cohesive, polished. The vibe is SO dark and brooding. Casually off putting in a very purposeful way. No one is gonna be bothering the pair of you offhandedly. 

I think you have really similar stances on people as a whole-or the observation of them, rather-though the reasoning and manifestation of these views may differ. Yours is an analytical approach for the sake of analysis. While his is, of course, analysis specifically in the service of his art. 

Reca's energy gives you something to match, and helps sustain the previously mentioned interest feedback loop. Reca is looking for talent everywhere, your love of performance and ability to get inspired and motivated in bursts enchants and bewitches. 

This dynamic isn't exactly opposites attract or great minds thinking alike… You know how when you try to press two magnets with the same charge together they repel each other? It's kinda like that. You butt heads, you both have strong opinions, strong personalities. Your ever spinning magnetic poles are always fluctuating between attraction and repulsion. The balancing act of it, the challenge, is what keeps it interesting for the both of you. 

There is something about Reca that pushes you to action. Whether that is inspiration or competition, fascination or irritation, you're still trying to work out.

You're in for a fun time and a headache. Inspired to previously unheard of heights in any creative endeavors. You're gonna be forced to reckon with aspects of yourself you'd otherwise prefer to ignore. What a weird guy will do to a mf.

Headcanons - How It Starts

You meet on set. How you end up there doesn't really matter-maybe you owed someone a favor, maybe you got bored, maybe you just stumbled onto filming by chance-the point is, that's how it starts. 

Reca gives you a stage direction and you do the opposite. It changes the entire course of the scene being filmed. (Life is Strange style "this action will have consequences" pop up.) UnFortunately for you, he loves it. You've brought something out of his actors, out of the scene, that he hadn't anticipated. So now, you have a problem. And it has youtube play button eyes. 

Getting you to agree to be a continued subject in his films is an uphill battle. When presented with the opportunity to exert extra effort or remain in bed well, your choice comes as easy as closing your eyes. 

But he is patient. And observant. And when he sets his mind on something he is not easily deterred. 

The sudden and intense interest strikes you as absurd. The idea of getting so invested in someone over so little is so distant from your approach to other people that it really throws you. Looking at the situation as if an outsider-and even as the target of his interest, you do still feel something of an outsider. A practiced and easy detachment on your end. An endless pause for contemplation, consideration, observation-you wonder at the sincerity of it, and the depth. It seems risky, to you, to devote so much energy to something so uncertain. 

A lingering curiosity is what leads you to seek him out. Or, barring that, keeps you from pushing him away in his myriad attempts to win your favor.

You don't offer information about yourself so much as you don't care to hide much, seeing it as an unnecessary effort. The more he learns about you the more he wants to learn. You navigate the world so differently, devoting your time and energy to things he has left largely unexplored. In seeing the world through and with you he feels he has the potential to create more magnificent, more deeply real, pieces of art.

As more of what you love, more of who you are, is revealed to him he finds himself (totally by coincidence, of course) putting together a new film. If it, coincidentally, caters to a great few of your interests then well, isn't that funny.

Upon pitching it to you. (Over a dinner you only grudgingly agreed to, with the promise of a favorite food.) He doesn't even get the chance to offer you a role. You tell him you're going to be in it. And you're going to be the lead. 

The desired effect has been achieved, you are finally on board. You don't miss his sly smile but you don't take it to mean anything beyond his usual film fanaticism. 

You are determined to do well, excited to perform and invested in the material. The perfect cocktail to pull you out of yourself and your usual patterns of behavior. You start to fall into a new rhythm. Reca's rhythm. 

That isn't to say the exchange isn't equal. As you grow closer he comes to understand your habits, your need and desire for rest and leisure. Filming happens at your whim. It is rare for him to take to lounging with you, but he has plenty of other projects to distract himself with while you laze about.

It is not difficult for him to fall into step with your cycles of dependent and independent behavior, knowing when to step in and push and when to step back and leave you to your devices.

And none of that is to say that things ever go smoothly for long. It is something you quickly discover to be impossible between the two of you. 

Upon devoting yourself to working at his side it doesn't take you very long at all to figure out that he gives very little away. That he is difficult to read and the motivations behind his behaviors and actions are always deeply unclear to you. This, obviously, cannot stand. 

Secretly, you set yourself on a mission to figure out what his deal is. This is what damns you. You have entered each other's orbit and the pull will not be easily escaped by either of you. 

Headcanons - Assorted

You find yourself almost subconsciously drawing up concept posters, promotional images, character costume designs, sets and the like. 

Your attachment and interest in Reca could be easily measured by anyone who got ahold of your sketches. Earlier pages marked by torn out pieces of paper and aggressively erased or scribbled out sections. Images left less and less disturbed until eventually Reca's presence in your sketches is so common it can almost be ignored. Drawing him an unavoidable facet of being drawn to him. A physical representation of your efforts to make sense of him.

In the early days of you two getting to know each other you spend more time arguing than not. Opinions both strong and frequently unaligned. He is also one to notice you don't take well to the unexpected, and will take it upon himself to test that. Never in any large or meaningful way, but certainly enough for you to notice. When you confront him he will be very quick to bring up that you are just as interested in seeing what makes people tick, to which you have little reply in the moment. But trust that within the day he will be getting a letter passed his way expressing your distaste in his methods and the exact and myriad ways you are not similar in the slightest. 

He keeps a collection of your evaluations and observations (read: scathing critiques) in the back of a filing cabinet in his office.

I discussed briefly how your interests expose him to new perspectives and ideas and want to further explore that. His single minded focus on film has left many of the other arts largely unexplored by him. Your interest in reading and particularly in gaming expose him to new modes of expression and communication of ideas that elevate his work.

And more than that, the ways you interact with and respond to what you read or play inspire and fascinate him. You are by far his favorite actor to observe. 

In the rare moment he is still he is sat with you, watching you play or listening to you read. 

You run the absolute shit out of a press junket, organizing and speaking are strong suits of yours and it serves the press for any film you choose to involve yourself with so well.

I am uncertain if his robotic frog assistant director was made by him, for him, or found. But regardless of how it comes to be, he is quick to get you an assistant director of your own, a mechanical duck. He would tell you that it is more than an alarm clock, but you have your doubts. More often than not you find it's quacking reminders and wake up calls to be nothing but an irritation, but if the little nuisance starts to grow on you, that's nobody's business but your own. 

Headcanons - How It's Going

Physical contact, and later affection, was uncommon at the start of your relationship. With yourself being slow to warm and him caught up in his place on the outskirts, an observer not taking part in the scene. There is still a tentativeness to physicality between the two of you now, generally. The caution and gentleness that always comes with something new accompanied by a desire to stay curious. Your story is a slow burn, and there is plenty of film left in the camera roll. There's a sense of comfort in that certainty, a security you have longed for and that Reca is discovering for the first time. 

It's a slow start, and an even slower process, but eventually something clicks into place, a lens over the camera making everything crystal clear. It is something you amount to an accident more than anything else. A relationship you fell into without really realizing until your lives were so intertwined that you would find it difficult to separate them. You trust each other intrinsically, value each other's perspectives and opinions, respect each other enough to talk any miscommunication or dissatisfaction out (after you are done snarking about it, maybe, but isn't that part of the fun?). 

You find yourself almost as wrapped up in his work as he is, finally able to see his vision and willing to devote yourself to it. He finds himself for once willing to step back, slow down, and engage with the present as a moment he lives in and not only as one he observes. The world opens itself anew for the both of you.

Playlist - Film Critic (yes. I'm giving you a ship name. I do not CARE if it is cringe.)

Valentine (What's It Gonna Be) by Rina Sawayama

Girl On Your TV by twst

Egoist by Jenna Holiday

Dinner & Diatribes by Hozier

Homemade Dynamite by Lorde

This is the part where I say take what resonates and leave the rest. I'm sure there are places where I have misrepresented you just from having obvious limited perspective of you but I hope that if nothing else you were entertained reading through!

[superherosweetness]

Little Light Chapter 2

Lucy was furious, but she hid her emotions well. She went over to her suitcase and pulls out her laptop and medical supplies. She presses the power button and goes over to the bathroom while Barry looks around the big room in curiosity. 

When she takes off her black tank top she is relived and pissed at the same time. When it is off of her body she can clearly see that it is in tatters and her body is marked with two different types of wounds, flesh wounds and bullet grazes. The grazes she quickly cleans up and bandages, but when it comes time to deal with the flesh wounds she stops. There are two flesh wounds, one in her left arm and one in her left leg. As she inspects and feels them while wincing she finds that the bullets went through clean, without hitting and major arteries. Lucy throws on a random red tank top and calls in Barry.

“Do you know how to sew?”

“Yeah why do you- Oh god you’re bleeding!”

“Yeah. I can see that. Can you help me stitch up my arm?”

“I suddenly feel light headed.”

“That should be my line.” Lucy then grabs some floss and a needle. “All I need you to do is hold my arm steady and hold the wound shut.”

“Is that floss?”

“Yes. It keeps my wounds minty fresh.” She then directs Barry how to hold her arm and the wound, then she begins.

“Doesn’t this hurt?”

“Yeah, but after a while you get used to it.” Barry then looks at Lucy with concern but she just brushes it off as she continues to pull her skin back together. Barry looks very queasy while Lucy look calm, unaffected by what she is doing.

After she stitches up her arm she pushes Barry out of the bathroom and handles her leg a lot quicker and with less interuptions. When she is done she discards her tattered jeans and slips on black sweatpants. 

When she leaves the bathroom her computer is started up. She flops onto her bed and types in her password and instead of the normal desktop appearing a database appears. She moves her cursor to the search bar and types in inhanced humans. The moment she hits the search button multiple documents pop up with different sections highlighted. They keep popping up until they fill up the screen and start overlapping each other. Lucy sighs and Barry comes to lay next to her, looking over her shoulder. 

“Whatcha doin’” Barry asks as he looks. 

“Trying to figure out who is trying to kill us.” As Lucy reads over the documents she pauses. She then goes up to the search bar again and adds to it and hits search again. About half of the results go away and all that remains is relevant information. What remains is info on Superman, a woman named Diana Prince, an “Aquaman”, a boy grew up in Gotham, and the man of the hour, Barry Allen.

“Who is Amanda Waller?” Lucy then pull out her phone and scrolls through her contacts.

“The woman who about to be on the recieving end of an angry phone call.” Lucy then gets up and walks out to the hallway but is stopped by a man with her pizza order, who she quickly gives money to and hands the pizza boxes to Barry as she shuts the door in Barry’s face. She then glares at the delivery boy who quickly scatters out of the hallway. When he is gone she goes through her contacts until she finds Waller’s number, dialing it.

“What do you want Lucy?” Lucy controls her voice as she responds.

“Oh, nothing much, just asking a few questions.”

“Such as?”

“Did you dispatch a team to a hospital to attempt to take in an enhanced named Barry Allen?”

“I am not allowed to say-“

“So, I’m going to assume the answer is yes. Here’s how this is going to work Waller. You are going to observe the target, but if I hear so much as sqeak of a boot I will be all over your ass.” Amanda tries to talk buy gets cut off. “I have the assets, money, and power to take you and your little Suicide Squad project down, so don’t even try me! Lay a hand on Barry and you are as good as dead! Are we clear?” Lucy hears a harsh whisper of an agreement on the other end. “Good. Have a nice day.” Lucy then hangs up and opens the door, just for Barry to come tumbling out with a shocked face.

“So, I’m guessing you heard all of that?” When Barry looks away meekly Lucy sighs. “Let’s talk about this while we eat pizza.” She then reaches down and pulls him up. Then, they walk inside.

Lucy stares at Barry as he starts his second box of pizza. “So...where should I begin?”

“How do you know her?” Barry asks between bites, making her wince slightly.

“I come from a very influential family, having their money in many organizations, with some good and some bad. Waller’s program is what I would call a necessary evil ever since Superman showed himself. When that happened all of the enhanced people showed themselves, and not all of them are good like you, so countermeasures were introduced, such as the Suicide Squad. My father helped them with funds and they help us by sharing info when needed.”

“So you don’t know her directly?”

“Nope. That makes threatening a dangerous woman a little bit easier. Especially when I have you here speedy.”

“What are we going to do now?” At this point he has finished the pizza and stands in front of Lucy.

“I know a place here in Central City so that we can continue to go to school and you can still see your father.”

“Where is it?”

“You’ll see. One of my brothers and I used to crash there when we would travel out here.”

“I thought you grew up in Gotham?” Barry gives Lucy a confused look.

“I visited Central City from time to time when my brothers or my father had business here.” She then paused and realized something. “So, how are we gonna deal with the elephant in the room?”

“What do you think I should do?” Barry asks Lucy, looking at her with the Puppy Eyes, but she stands her ground.

“It doesn’t matter what I think. This is your powers and your life Bar. I’m just here to help you when you decide what to do, but if you need a special suit for running around with your powers let me know. I know a guy.” She then puts her hand on his shoulder and gives him a small smile.

“It seems like you know a lot of people.” Lucy then laughs.

“It sure seems like it, huh.”

[petalologist]

omg the amount of food i've been given with all of this... you guys have me frothing at the mouth with the bird au especially i've always been a sucker for emphasizing ayaka's bird connections in particular so this just scratches my brain in a really good way. also different vision types hello?!?! thank you so so much for sharing all of this with me. i'll probably end up reading through all of the fic stuff itself in my spare time in the near future!!! :"") to keep this from getting too much longer on the dash im gonna pop this all under a read more!

it's so funny because the more you describe your hcs for them and scenarios and aus you've crafted they all line up very well with thoughts i've had about them! a commonality i have with a lot of my ayaka ships are like, a desire to fulfill her wishes like those outlined in her character story 5--someone who would have the ability to see her as herself, someone who isn't all too formal with her. and especially, someone who can tell her a story or two, so someone like childe fits well in that regard. with his abundance of travel and social experience he'd probably pique her interest as someone with all sorts of interesting things to share with her, but i could also generally see herself being innately drawn to those who offer a bit of unpredictability to her life.

i love love love an ayaka interaction where she knows more than she seems cuz that's literally like. exactly how things were in the aq LMAO. part of it is obviously due to her high government status but it's also a big part of her to observe her people and monitor for anything potentially suspicious (or helpful!) showing up on narukami and i think a harbinger showing up would fit the bill there. we could also go into how wild it is that the kamisato family has a whole like, association of loyal spy/assassins under their care that could be considered suspicious in itself but i think that'd be another line of intel as well. MY POINT BEING most of my own interpretations of their meetings are rarely a total strangers, sidetracked situation, though i totally subscribe to any antics with childe being floored by ayaka's princess status or combat ability. YUM

i have..... so many thoughts about ayaka and the interaction of inazuman and other cultures through her. i could go on forever in theat regard for scarayaka especially but for chiyaka i see it being a very intimate and domestic angle of mutually showing each other the traditions and objects of their homelands. they're both characters who are very tied to their nations even barring their statuses, both characters known to get along well with all kinds of people, and i think that'd all play in well for their families to end up blending in different ways. i adore your thoughts on childe and ayato's potential dynamics from both this and your other posts. they'd definitely bond in really weird ways but also clash in about just about every other regard. them shaking hands on their protectiveness and care for ayaka.

THE ANGST i feel like they're both great for a little sentimental long distance pining!!

i'm going to try to keep things brief because i've already rambled so much and there is just so so much good i can say about this au but ohhh my god your brains are HUGE. pulling my hair shaking my head around at every single thing related to childe's original wings, skirk plucking them for his own safety, ayaka preening him and caring for him regardless, teaching him how to fly just GAHH

also to ur friend i literally adore every though on like, childe in love as childe as just a normal young man from a little home in snezhnaya with a crush because in the same way AYAKA is getting the chance to feel like a normal young woman with a crush. no more sneaking off to read cheesy yae publishing house romance novels in the privacy of her own room, she's getting to live as a regular person with girlish fantasies of dates and sneaking kisses and rebellion and i am just... so so weak for that kind of finding authenticity through each other kinda shit.

also if you're seriously interested in my scarayaka ramblings you are more than free to ask for them because i have way more than even this FJDSAKLFJFDLSA lyneyaka is probably my more vague ayaka rarepair conceptually so i don't have too much for them, but i can definitely return your generous chyk offerings with my scryk.

YOU SHIP CHIYAKA tell me your thoughts sand i'll tell you mine there's like 3 other people on this site i've met who ship chiyaka

HELLO!! first off, sorry for such a late response; i've been out of town for a few weeks. i really appreciate you reaching out though, as i love discussing ship stuff!!

honestly it started just because i have a problem with constantly shipping ayaka with various fatui LMFAO (stares at my scarayaka and lyneyaka art nervously) but i do think they could have a very fun dynamic! tartaglia is a very Respects Strong Women kind of guy and ayaka would be no exception, albeit her combat experience pales in comparison to those whose main line of work is in fighting. i feel like the obvious idea would be them meeting for diplomatic purposes, but i also think it would be fun if they just kinda met each other out in the wild, whether they know about each other's respective roles and titles at first or not. i think they'd equally spoil each other. ayaka is big on gift giving and would definitely express her affection through those sort of hints at first. i also have had thoughts about their respective thoughts on family? ayaka and ayato being the remaining members of their clan obviously makes them very close and worrisome about one another, and childe's sort of sheltering of his siblings might remind her of how ayato had been with her for a while. crying and sobbing thinking of ayaka pulling out her long since stored away childhood temari to teach teucer how to play, introducing his little siblings to various inazuman games and events like festivals. also, i enjoy the contrast between ayaka's more cautious and closed-off approach to live vs childe's seemingly impulsive nature. he'd be a bad influence on her in a fun way lmao

there's also obviously the angst potential. c'mon. harbinger and a government official/practically princess from two countries with rocky relations? childe is totally ayaka's 'sneak away at night, steal kisses in chinju forest away from their respective duties' bf. they'd be the types to fall for each other but barely see each other, as ayaka remains pretty stationary in her work for the yashiro commission and childe is always traveller for one mission or another.

these are all TOTALLY VAGUE and as you can tell i haven't actually ever hashed this stuff out, but i'd love love love to hear your own thoughts on them!! it's always so nice to see anyone who shares any of my rarepairs :"")

EDIT: AFTER LOOKING AT UR BLOG I REALIZE IVE READ YOUR FICS BEFORE??? HELLO WHAT AN HONOR