#they are slightly unhinged in different ways and I think that works so well

[electricdazeworld]

Spinning the idea of Amadeus, Lin Lie, Cindy and Sam teaming up around in my head, plz send help.

[reiderwriter]

hi 💖 I’m literally ✨obsessed✨ with your writing atm and I’ve never done a request before so I thought this would be the perfect opportunity!!

I would love to read an established couple fic where reader drops by !professor spencer’s office and spicy times ensue 🌶️👀 the trope where reader is inexplicably jealous of the girls auditing his class gets me every 🤌 single 🤌 time 🤌 (but don’t feel like you have to include that trope!! I’m a sucker for any !professor spencer smut lmao)

- 🐺 anon

A/N: Thank you sm for your request!! I am also slightly unhinged about Professor Spencer (I think this is my second one this month lmao) so I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: use of sir, degradation, fingering, no contraception, PinV sex, semi-public sex, jealous reader (she's like 27 beefing with undergrads), age-gap (15 years), Spencer keeps a souvenir of her visit 😊. Also I don't even know if American lecturers have office hours, so like... For context I am a European living in SK lmao. 18+ MINORS DNI

W/C: ~2k

Check out my masterlist!!

You’d lost count of how many times you’d visited Spencer in his office now that he’d started lecturing semi-regularly. The break from his regular activities as a member of the BAU suited him well, and you had no complaints either, loving having an excuse to drop by the college campus he was based on to visit the cute student-run coffee shops and explore the space. And since you’d started working from home while you wrote your novel, you definitely had the time to visit.

Usually, you’d find him in some lecture theatre or the other, but having walked around all his regularly scheduled rooms, he was nowhere in sight. You shrugged a little, figuring that he must be in his office if he was nowhere else. You were right, of course, but he wasn’t exactly alone.

A line of undergrads had formed at his door as you noticed the sign pinned to his door mentioned his updated office hours for the semester in the run-up to finals week. Typical. You were never the best-timed person, and you could see that you weren’t going to get his attention for a while from the look of all the students. You waited outside for him to open the door and summon the next student into his office, settling onto a couch opposite his door.

You weren’t trying to listen in to the multiple conversations going on, but you couldn’t help it when they were being so loud and open.

“God, he’s so fucking hot, I just want him to bend me over that desk and-”

“-wonder if he’s single. If he is, I’m totally going to make a move-”

“-I just know it’s big-”

“- in that lecture about the serial rapist, all I could think about was his hands-”

You blushed a little deeper with each of their confessions. They didn’t know who you were, of course they didn’t, and you sure as hell weren’t going to tell them. But now you knew why it was that they were here, and honestly, you couldn’t blame them for lusting after the man, you’d done the same thing. Your relationship had started in a similar way. You’d knocked on the doors of the FBI with a case back when you were a journalist, and been met with those big brown eyes and it had taken your entire strength to not jump him then and there.

So you understood. But you didn’t have to like it, and you certainly did not. The longer you sat there, the older you felt, constantly resisting the urge to yell at these kids in an old maid's way. Gods he was old enough to be some of these girls’ fathers. You weren’t exactly close in age with him yourself, a gap of about 15 years separating the two of you, but come on.

The door to his office finally cracked open, and you followed the sound of his voice, still rambling out facts as he let the student out.

“Now that you have the difference between stressor and trigger down, you’ll find it easier to interpret some of the readings, just keep in mind that sometimes they can be one and the same.” The student nodded and thanked him before leaving, a slightly disappointed look shadowing her face.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” His smile lit up the second he saw you, and you held out the coffee you’d bought him earlier to him.

“Thought I’d drop in and see you. I missed you.” Maybe it was petty of you in front of literal teenagers and people who couldn’t even legally drink yet, but you wrapped a hand around his waist, underneath his suit jacket, and looked up at him with a big grin, fluttering your eyelashes. He looked at you with knotted eyebrows, trying to decode your words as if they were the key to cracking a case he was working on.

You felt the eyes of the students burning into you, heard them whispering to each other and your grin deepened. You’d marked your territory successfully.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got office hours for the next 25 minutes, do you mind waiting?” He looked apologetically down at you, speaking with a bit of an awkward tone, not used to the notable PDA.

“That’s fine. I can wait out here, right?” You asked, trying to give him your most innocent look. He nodded his assent, and you returned to your seat, grabbing a book from your bag and settling in as he welcomed the next student to his office.

An hour later, all the students had finally dispersed. A fair few of them had given up after you made your identity known, embarrassingly slinking away from the queue, but a fair few had stuck it out, still just wanting a glimpse of him. The conversation had dimmed though, now back on the topic of college parties and TikTok stars or something.

When the final student slipped out of the office, you jumped up enthusiastically and joined Reid inside, letting yourself in with a small knock and a sing-song “professor.”

He was sat at his desk, glasses perched on his nose looking down at some papers, and looking as attractive as he had the day you’d met him. You slunk over to him, swirling his chair around so you could sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a deep kiss to his lips.

“What’s gotten into you today?” He asked, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer to him, obviously not objecting to the sudden physicality of your affection. “It’s not an anniversary, we’re only on our 1,813th day of dating which doesn’t mark any milestones or other special cultural holidays, so what gives.”

“You know I love it when you talk numbers to me.”

“You know I love it even more when you spill and tell me what’s going on? Come on, Y/N, something’s different.” You pouted at this goddamn superhuman perception. It was going to be embarrassing to admit that you saw the gaggle of girls that had been crowding around his office as competition.

“There were a lot of students today.” You said, simply changing the topic a bit, hoping you wouldn’t have to explicitly name the green-eyed monster that had taken over you.

“Not really, that’s about the amount I get every time I open office hours.”

“Every time?” He’d told you often that you were an absolutely open book, your facial expressions baring your every thought and feeling. So you cursed yourself at the pout you felt forming on your lips.

“Woah, what was that? Y/N, are you… are you jealous?”He laughed a little bit as your frown deepened, a flush coming up to cover your face.

“So what if I am?”

“Have I not been paying enough attention to you, baby?” He trailed his hand up between your thighs and your breath hitched as you felt the tone of the conversation immediately shift.

“They were talking about you, y’know?” your breath hitched at the last word, as his hand found its way to your clit, beginning to press the tiniest of circles around that nerve.

“Oh? What were they saying that made my princess so upset?” The hand gripping your hip was nearly painful now, as he clasped you tightly, letting your legs spread for him as he slowly picked up the pace, your back now flush against his chest as he looked down to between your legs from over your shoulder. Your head was thrown back against him, your chest rising and falling with every small movement.

“They were talking a-about your hands,” you moaned out. His eyes stayed fixed on your center, but his free hand trailed up to your blouse, popping a few buttons expertly so he could see the rise and form of your chest, see your nipples sticking out through the thin bra you’d chosen that morning.

“Hmm, is that it baby? They just talked about these hands?” He continued at his agonizing pace on your clit as his hand lifted to your nipples, pulling one breast free of your bra and beginning to roll it between his fingers. You writhed at the touch, trying desperately to keep quiet, knowing from your time outside just how thin these walls were.

“Baby, I think you didn’t hear me. Was that all they said?” His tone was darker now, and you knew you had to answer before he made you.

“No!” You moaned out, trying to gain back some composure when all you wanted to do was relax into his hands and let him pull your release from you. “They… they said they knew you were big… Down there.” He laughed a little at that and shifted his hips underneath you.

“And are they correct baby?” You feel him pressing against your leg now and it takes everything in you not to let your eyes roll back in pleasure and let him use you as he wants.

“Yes, sir. They were… they were right, you always fill me up so good.” Your hips start grinding down into his, his hand stilling as you use him to get yourself off.

“There’s something else they said, right, baby? You’re holding something back?” He smiled, dropping hot open-mouthed kisses to your neck as you frantically rubbed yourself up against him. Your moans were ripping out from your mouth now in frustrated moans, as you felt needy in a way you’d never quite experienced before.

“Stop teasing, Spencer.”

“No. This is my office, and you come in draping yourself all over me like a whore in front of all of my students. You don’t get to call me Spencer right now, you’re going to have to show a little bit more respect.” With those words he pushed you up to your feet, pulling his hands off of you before quickly clearing a space on the desk and bending you over it.

“I heard this bit. They said they wanted me to bend them over and take them like this, right?” You heard him unzip his pants, bringing the tip of his cock to your entrance as he started teasing you, pulling your panties to the side. You moaned out a yes, but that wasn’t enough for him anymore.

“Use your words, baby. What did they want me to do to them?”

“They wanted you to bend them over the desk and fuck them like a little whore, sir.” With that confession out in the open, he finally pushed into you, stretching you out with a sinful groan slipping from his mouth.

“Fuck baby, so tight and wet for me…” His thrusts were hard and slow, and you could feel the wetness seeping down your legs, the wet sounds of your activity filling the space infinitely. His pace picked up and so did your constant mewls from the contact, the sounds completely unmistakable for anything but base lust.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, sweetheart. Going to come, right here on my cock in my office, huh?”

“Yes, sir, I’m going to…. Shit, I’m going to cum.” He grabbed your hair and pulled your face up to his, swallowing each of your moans with his mouth as he let his tongue explore, your body twitching still under his ministrations. He kept his rough pace up for another minute or two before hitting his peak as well, pulling out to empty himself out on your thighs.

“Shit, Y/N,” he mumbled, falling back into his chair and running a hand through his tousled hair as you fell forward back into the desk, chest heaving. He was at eye level with the results of his labour and you heard the sound of his phone camera clicking before you could pull yourself together.

“Spencer!” You giggled awkwardly, looking back at him with an incredulous look as he pulled some tissues out of the desk drawer and started cleaning you up.

“What? I always take notes during my office hours.” He grinned up at you, as you turned around and planted another kiss to his lips, pulling him back up to you.

“How many students do you think will actually turn up to your class tomorrow?”

“I’ll be lucky if the module actually has any sign-ups next term.”

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Do What I Cannot

This is based on My Graveyard Song because I was captivated by the idea of Danny’s parents burying him alive. That’s basically the only part I took though. This is about him being confronted with his parents again once freed.

This is unedited so feel free to point out mistakes. Contains graphic description of violence.

-----------

The Justice League’s newest hero has been a wonderful asset, truly! Phantom is a rather powerful hero and even though some of his methods are a little questionable he follows the ‘no killing’ rule more strictly then some of the long-term members. Even if it’s just because he doesn’t want to deal with them as ghosts it still counts. Some of the more magical people have an idea that Phantom is more powerful then he’s letting on, but they don’t push it. After all he’s still just a teenager, they don’t really want to have him dealing with universal threats either.

Honestly even if he weren’t a hero Batman at least would have kept him around for the impressively positive affects he has on Red Hood. Jason had been calmer and more reasonable then he had been since his resurrection since digging up that grave and teaming up with Danny. It was just a little unsettling sometimes honestly, sometimes his eyes would glint with the green of the Lazarus waters and everyone would tense up prepared for an aggressive outburst only for Jason to announce he needed to find Danny and leave. The more suspicious minds found it odd, but they figured it was just because Phantom could calm Jason down and didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

Really the only problem was that knowing Phantom had alerted them to a potential new source of threat that they really knew very little about. The JLD knew some but not enough and the ways they had to fight ghosts were clunky and unreliable, they needed weapons that would work on ghosts. Not Phantom obviously, though the overly cautious ones privately thought about him too, just in case you know? And there weren’t many people who specialized in such tech, so of course their search lead them to the Drs. Fenton.

The magic users thought their methods were crude and crazy but had to admit they clearly worked so maybe it would be best to invest in at least some of their tech. At least to study and see if it could be improved on. So they were invited for a meeting, and it was decided Phantom would Not be told. Mostly because they didn’t want to stress him out and also because they’d learned these two were ‘shoot first ask questions later’ types who apparently didn’t believe there was such a thing as a good ghost so they might actually try and kill Danny on sight, which would be awkward.

The presentation they gave to the Justice League was predictably unhinged and they knew well enough to take all of it with a grain of salt, especially the part about all ghosts being evil. Danny had already explained it to them, that ghosts were driven by obsessions which meant they behaved differently then humans but the majority only lashed out when something got between them and their singular passion. Some were different, some had malicious passions and some were more complicated. Diana and J’onn both looked like they were trying hard not to pick a fight but they’d all agreed to smile and nod till they got access to the tech.

There was a familiar sudden chill in the room, looking around Batman could tell a few others felt it too, though Flash was typically oblivious.

“Oh dear,” J’onn whispered before Phantom appeared.

“Hey guys what’s up?” He asked, cheerful but slightly accusatory, they should have known better then to think they could keep the meeting from him. Before they could think of anything to say Danny’s eyes caught on the Fentons and narrowed.

“GET DOWN!” Jack yelled pulling out one of those stupid blasters from somewhere.

“What a perfect chance for a demonstration,” Maddie said, sliding on a pair of gantlets.

“You-you don’t recognize me, do you?” Danny asked, and for a moment he looked hurt, then something happened none of them had ever seen before, his eyes turned red. The toxic green they were used to changed to a deep, blood red and his feet touched the ground as he stalked forward. Jack shot, Danny didn’t break stride, a green shield blocked the blast like it was nothing. Maddie tried to lung and was immediately hit in the gut by one of Phantom’s ecto-blasts, knocking her back against the glass.

Batman leapt up and tried to lung and stop Phantom only to hit a wall that rippled with green, a bubble surrounding the ghost and the two hunters, invisible until struck.

Danny grinned, shark like teeth on full display without any mirth, white hair whipping in an unfelt wind, flowing so it almost looked like flames. “I guess I look a lot different then I did when you buried me alive huh? How long did you leave me? Because you ‘couldn’t kill you son’ so you thought it would be more merciful to lock me away till everything human about me rotted.”

“No,” Maddie gasped, recognition suddenly sharp and painful on her features.

“Yes ‘mom’,” Danny snarled bitterly. Jack tried to shoot again but the blaster was knocked out of his hands so quickly no one was sure what hit him before it could fully charge. “YOU MADE ME! AND YOU ABANDONED ME! You’re lucky someone found me, I would have gotten strong enough to break out on my own eventually and if I had I would have destroyed everything.”

“Oh my god, his parents?” Diana nearly whispered. Batman understood how she felt, Danny didn’t like to talk about how he’d ended up buried ‘alive’, that his parents were the ones who had done it… that was horrific. It made sense why he had never been able to speak about it, but Damn that would have been good to know before they had invited Danny’s abusers to give a presentation on weapons that had no doubt been used to hurt him. And now.. what? They couldn’t get to Danny, it seemed like he had gotten to the point that Raven did sometimes when her emotions overwhelmed her, could they get to Danny? Could they stop him from doing something he might regret?

“You are not our son,” Maddie hissed, her breathing still coming in a harsh wheeze from the blow to her stomach. “Danny is dead! He’s gone. You’re just an acto-entity imitating him, and not even well, you’re just a parasite.”

Danny seemed to be losing some control of his form, it was stretching, getting taller, his fingers curling into dangerous claws tipped with the blackness of the star studded void. “Pathetic mortals, you act as if you will never die, but you will join my kingdom. Perhaps it will be punishment enough to become what you hate, perhaps not. Perhaps I will speed up the process so you can’t hurt anyone else,” He snarled his hands beginning to glow with familiar green of his energy blast.

“Danny stop!” Superman said, hitting the burier to try and get through but not even he could break it. Danny didn’t seem to be responding to them though he was hesitating.

Batman was resigning himself to watching Phantom kill his once parents before Jason walked by him. Batman wasn’t usually taken by surprise, but he was shocked, and worried, both because he could see the green glow of pit madness through the eyes of his helmet, which was worrying, and because he walked through the burier keeping the rest of the heroes out like it was nothing.

He walked to Danny, taking his hand, there was a soft sizzle as the gathered green energy burned Jason’s hand without him even seeming to notice. He pulled Danny down to the ground from where he was floating, pulling the young hero into his arms. Danny let himself be pulled into Jason’s arms, the green energy fizzling out as he wrapped his own arms back around Jason’s waist, hiding against his chest. As the anger faded he slumped against Jason’s chest.

Just as the heroes were breathing a sigh of relief and relaxing Maddie went for the dropped gun. But she wasn’t fast enough as Jason drew his own pistol, the one with live ammo, and put a bullet in her head. Diana cried out in shock and Batman froze as blood and brain matter splattered over the watchtower floor and her body slumped. Before anyone could recover Jack followed, another shot executioner style and Batman had to turn away.

The watchtower was completely silent, enough so that he could hear Phantom’s soft sniffles as he cried into Jason’s chest. When Batman looked back Jason had holstered his gun and was just holding Danny Close. The green had faded enough from his eyes that it seemed safe, Batman approached warily and wasn’t surprised to find that the invisible burier was gone now that both the Fenton’s were dead.

“I’m sorry,” Danny said softly as he heard the approach, without emerging from his hiding place in Jason’s arms where he seemed to feel safe. “I wasn’t actually going to kill them, but I guess my want to, my emotions, were strong enough to make Jason respond. I didn’t mean to call you that way.” He looked up at Jason, his eyes green again though red rimmed from tears.

“It’s alright, I would have done it anyway,” Jason growled, holding Danny even tighter. “I’ve killed people for less, they deserved it.”

Batman took a deep breath forcing himself to keep his cool about his son’s constant flouting of his no killing rule, now was not the time to make Phantom feel worse. “Jason why don’t you take him down to one of the sitting rooms so he can calm down.” No doubt Phantom was reliving trauma, and grieving because even if he wanted them dead they had been his parents.

Jason nodded and scooped Danny into his arm who let out an indignant little squawk and insisted he could walk while making no attempt to actually get down. Jason ignored Danny’s performative complaints and kept the young hero’s head hidden against his chest so he wouldn’t have to see the corpses of his parents while Jason carried him out of the room.

Now, how best to deal with the aftermath of… all this. And later on he really would have to ask Danny and Jason what he’d meant by Jason responding to his energy, because it seemed like there might be something more to their relationship then just Danny calming Jason down and that was worrying to say the least.

Part 2: here

[galactic-rhea]

I love your empress padme au, they should be evil and unhinged. I'm misly curious as to what the kiddos are up to, (and some of the other characters, I imagen they're mostly side eyeing anidalla like "wtf is happining over there???") Anyways I kind of love the consept of "evil chaos family fun"

Neither of them are stay at home parents but the imagen of vaderkin in a frilly apron trying SO hard to cook for his family has popped into my head and will not leave

Vader should get a cloak wich has "property of Padme" embrodered on the back

dfkjgnkjngfdjk thank you, Padmé would ask him to cook with an appron and nothing else

About the question, well! Just yesterday someone asked in the comments about the twins too! And well, you see, I'm undecided! This will get long!

See, when I originally envisioned the empress Padmé AU, what I had on mind is that Padmé spent about 5-6-7 years with the rebels, and that's why we have Vader as...as we known him, you know, almost-classic Vader. Unknown to the rebeels that Padmé's goal was sliiiiiightly different as theirs. She would have the twins (or at least, known where they're being hidden, and visint them and everything) and her goal would be to reunite her family, she's a bit obssesed with having her family fully and complete.

But! The idea that, for example, after having the twins she was unconscious for several days or something, and it was decided that hidding the twins was the better choice and told her they died it's so very tasty and angsty! Vader and Padmé would be EVEN MORE codependant and messed up out of the grief (also THE GUILT Vader feels about thinking he caused their kids death as he sees Padmé so distraguth?!!!! He wants to constantly kill himself, he probably wants Padmé to kill him, tasty angst) If she believes her twins to be dead, then she believes she only has her husband, and she's very overprotective of him (and possesive, a lot).

And then you would have the plot following slightly similar to the movies, but now the twins have to redeem BOTH of their parents who are kinda enabling each other so hjhbdgdfsf

(Either Leia wasn't given to Bail and Breha because...come on, or I'll have to invent a super duper and convenient explanation)

Also @squad-724 suggested the idea of Padmé and Vader somehow sort of bringing Ahsoka (inquisitor ahsoka, wahoo!) into this and now I won't stop thinking about it (unconsciously) having Ahsoka as their stand-in-daugther because they lost their twins. Messed up, messed up and all these conflicting feelings guys!!!!

BUT! On the other hand, Imperial twins raised by both EVIL PARENTS is super fun, like, this poor galaxy can't catch a breath. Because my Vader raises the twins AU have them being double agents with Vader trying hard to cover them up so the emperor won't kill them. But here it probably makes them less likely to turn against their parents! However, 5-6 years being raised among rebels, and then being raised in the imperial palace and becoming prince and princess and at the very least knowing your mom kinda betrayed the rebels is probably enough to give you suspicion and "huh,,,this is kinda bad? Maybe"

For Padmé and Vader though, I think it would bring a very devoted and angry protectiveness for both Padmé and Vader; they aren't that invested in the empire and power tbh, they just want to have their Little House On The Prairie fantasy with a family fully complete and safe, at all costs. It would make them even more of a team and less weaknesses. Though, I once kinda as a joke just imagined Padmé getting tired of all of it and going "ah whatevery, let the galaxy burn by itself while we ran a way somewhere" and that's it because seriously Padmé wanted to actually give up on all the work, no big redemption or big epic dramatic moment, the imperial family just disappeared one night and no one knows what happened (surely they were murdered?) when they're just chilling in some super random and secret corner of the galaxy doing, idk, the most boring thing ever, farming. Luke and Leia get bored and become spice smugglers . The end.

For the last question, though, I think half of the people think Padmé is a victim of this terrible situation somehow (oh noooo, she was kidnapped by that monster, who knows what she's enduring, or she's being mind-controlled :( ), that she's some sort of puppet empress while Vader actually makes all the choices because,,,come on, that was the emperor's second hand right there. The other half of the people remember Padmé was a bit of a political apprentice for Palpatine, and they're also both from Naboo, and it was also thanks to her Palpatine became the Chancellor, maybe she did want power from the start, maybe Naboo is fucked up, never let politicans from Naboo have power again.

And then there's the third secret thing, which is only a very limited number of people like Obi-Wan and Bail (and Padmé and Vader's palace staff lol), that are fully side-eyeing her.

There's also the problem that since she actually worked with the rebels, she,,,knows a lot, she probably knows almost all the names of the rebels' leaders, she probably knows there's a underground society helping jedi run and to which planets. She knows so much, and yet she doesn't actively chase them (or more like, she doesn't actively send Vader to chase them), and if she does send her husband, which is rarely since she wants him to stay where she can see him (remember when I said obssesive and possesive and overprotective?), she's probably doesn't tell him that much info because it's entertaining, giant galactic chess game, lmao.

Also, her empire isn't half as awful as Palpatine's, like, it's still very bad but it's leagues better and she does probably finally forces the good charity projects she never could as a senator, and well, complacency it's extremelly dangerous for freedom. So there's that.

[akirathedramaqueen]

Octavia's and Blitzø's potential relationship development

I believe that the show, despite Octavia openly hating Blitzø, gives us some hints that they have much more in common than it seems. I’ve noticed a couple of moments where Blitzø and Octavia are… pretty much in sync, if that makes sense.

Here are those moments I’ve noticed… maybe stretched in some places, but! Hear me out!

1. Here, they don’t hear each other, but both are repulsed by Stolas’s obnoxious language and express the same reaction. It’s funny that Stolas is the one calling them out.

[Blitzø]: WHAT [Octavia]: THE [Blitzø]: FUCK [Octavia]: DAD?! S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 4:52

2. They also share a distaste for Stolas’s behavior throughout the episode, albeit in slightly different ways. In fact, this serves as a great demonstration of how deaf and blind Stolas is to obvious social cues at the beginning of the series—he doesn’t stop even when directly asked to do so on multiple occasions.

Blitzø is disgusted by Stolas’s awkward, overly sexual advances and demeaning language towards him and his work.

[Stolas]: You are so cute when you are serious! S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 6:06

Octavia is taken aback by essentially the same. However, she blames both of them, understandably failing to recognize that Blitzø is just as uncomfortable as she is. From her perspective, Blitzø is a homewrecker who contributed to destroying her parents' marriage.

[Stolas]: You know, it's quite thrilling to see you on the job, Blitzy.[Blitzø]: Save it, bitch, I am working. [Octavia]: You both need to get a room. S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 8:20

3. They share the hate for the same clown!

[Blitzø and Octavia]: I hate that fucking clown. S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 8:50

4. They seem to have similar tastes in music! The song My World Is Burning Down Around Me, which Octavia plays to tune out Stella’s screaming, is also heard in Blitzø’s van when he comes to pick up Loona in the Queen Bee episode, although it’s only instrumental. Here, have a look. If, for some reason, the service with the timeframes isn’t working, I’ll also provide the timings in writing so you can check it yourself on YouTube.

Octavia turns on the song, and for a while, we can hear the lyrics before it fades into the background as the scene shifts to Stella yelling at Stolas and later to Stolas’s conversation with Octavia. S1EP2, Loo Loo Land, 2:52 - 3:50

The song’s instrumental version can be heard when Blitzø’s van arrives, and the background noise at Queen Bee’s club is different, so there’s no chance for misinterpretation. It is the music Blitzø’s was listening to. S1EP8, Queen Bee, 8:20 - 9:14

5. Haha, they freak out in the same way in the Seeing Stars episode! I know it’s probably just a stylistic choice to transition from Octavia’s initial experience with LA to Blitzø having to contact Stolas and explain what happened. However, I might be indulging in a bit of wishful thinking, suggesting that this similarity in their stress responses could have some deeper meaning.

S2EP2, Seeing Stars, 4:42

So-o... What am I trying to say with all these points I've made?

Like the kind of delulu who yells, "Ghostfuckers, save us!" (we know Viv, we know how trying to put our hopes up ends, haha), I draw a complete unhinged card and I am going to make a very bold claim:

I think that once Stolas and Blitzø finally get their shit and themselves back together, and Octavia realizes there’s much more to the story than, “Oh, it’s just horny dad cheated on my mum with a red lizard dickhead and my dad ruined my family,” Octavia could actually bond with Blitzø quite nicely, and he would make a good second dad to her! Well, don’t get me wrong. She might never want to take it to that level. Also, we don’t know how things will turn out, nor do we know her relationship with her mum, Stella.

But I do believe that their parallels were thrown in for a reason. Despite the circumstances, they can, and maybe will, be on much better terms than they currently are.

Go on, call me delusional and leave me be in my complete denial corner. <3 I admit I do tend to forget the current state of the Stolitz relationship in the series, as in my world, where I’m prioritizing my time working on that fic, they are finally together. I am bitter-sweetly excited that @tealvenetianmask and I are slowly but surely getting close to finishing it. :)

(Yes, yes, it was shameless self-promotion—sue me for the unlawful use of a speculatory-analytical post space to promote our version of Stolitz working hard to sort out their issues post Apology Tour and having some silly and horny fun along the way.)

[rahuratna]

Synopsis: A little gift fic for @musubi-sama Happy birthday!

You've enlisted the services of Geto Suguru to assist you with ridding yourself of strange dreams. In the world of curses, however, nothing is as it seems ...

CW: Mild sensuality.

There is something of the wolf in him.

Maybe it's the smile he wears like a summer garment, carelessly offered, carelessly discarded, a suggestion of bared teeth beneath. Maybe it's the languid grace, the ill-concealed strength beneath the rich material of the yukata.

It is, possibly, in the way his dark, dark eyes trace something unseen as their gaze glides along your seated form within the spacious, traditional room.

A predator's glance, yes, but one seeking tougher prey than you.

You start to wonder where you'd found the courage to mount those stairs, to follow the airy wave of the attendant, to take such a risk based on hearsay alone. It had been office gossip that had drawn you to this place, after all. It shamed you to say it, or even think it, but it was the truth. You'd been desperate, and you'd heard whispers of a solution, of his reputation in certain circles.

And here you were. It was too late for regrets.

As if reading your tumultuous thoughts, his eyes flick towards yours, the smile growing wider for a second. When he speaks, the afternoon breeze outside seems to still a little, to snake into the corners of the room, ready to do his bidding. Soft, cajoling, his voice commandeers your attention like a single, crisp footfall in a dark forest.

"You're here for my help, I presume."

Your tongue darts out, moistening your lips.

"Yes. I - You see, it's the woman who lives next door to me."

He nods, eyes narrowing slightly.

"Go on."

"She's elderly. Alone. I've never seen ... well, any family visiting her, but I've not been in the neighbourhood for long."

You pause, collecting your thoughts. How could this be phrased in a manner that didn't make you sound like the unhinged party?

"Recently, she's been asking to come over. I humoured her, a few times. Had her over for tea. I even gifted her a plant I'd bought. But then ... as soon she was inside the house, she changed."

"Changed?"

You shift slightly, the floor beneath the tatami mat suddenly harder against your knees.

"She becomes quiet. Weird. Like she's waiting for something. She's ... quite chatty outside, but when she's inside, she just ... becomes different. Anyway, that was just the first thing I noticed. I started to find ... these. Scattered over my doorstep."

You produce the dark, polished stone from your pocket, handling it gingerly. He makes no move, and so you approach, placing it a few feet away from him and settling back into a sitting position.

"And ... I know this sounds ... "

He waves a hand, nonchalant, as if nothing you say could possibly surprise him.

"After the stones started to appear, I started to have dreams. Really vivid dreams. In them, I am riding a train, like the one I take to work. It's a stormy day outside. So I look out the window, and I see clouds. Thick, dark clouds. And they start to form a shape."

For the first time, you see a glimmer of interest in those onyx eyes. The palm cushioning his chin drops away.

"Hmm. In your dream, is the train traveling away from, or towards the clouds?"

"Towards. In fact they ... form the shape of her face. With her mouth wide open. And she ... she swallows the train. It travels right into her mouth, with me in it."

"And what then?"

"I wake up. Nothing else really happens, except for ... "

He waits, fingers tracing idly along his earlobe. You clear your throat.

"Well, I wake up feeling like a ... child. A child who wakes up in the dark. Like I want my mother to come into my room and hold me. Many times, I cry. And it doesn't ... go away, the feeling. Even when I'm at work, even when I'm having dinner with colleagues, I just ... feel the urge to be embraced. By my mother. A parent. Someone. It's so strong that I ... locked myself in a toilet once and wrapped my arms around myself."

Your laugh is higher pitched than you'd prefer, brittle. You blink rapidly, fighting the cloudiness that settles across your eyes.

"My mother's long gone, and I've been living alone for many years now. I've never felt this way before. I can't explain it. I have a feeling. A feeling that it all has something to do with her. That she ... did something to me when she came to my house. The way she watched me. Like she was waiting for something."

He hums thoughtfully, straightening out of his semi-reclining position.

"In cases such as these, I think it works best to visit the site itself."

"The ... site?"

"Your home, of course."

"Oh. My - Oh. I really don't want to make you go out of your way. I live all the way over in - "

He rises, the fall of his dark hair echoing the slide of long sleeves as he gracefully re-arranges himself.

"And you've come all the way here, to me, for assistance. Please don't forget that you've paid us to render you a service. I hate to sound so ... transactional, but you've sought out our help. And you traveled by train no less."

His sly, sideways glance drags a reluctant smile out of you. He bows politely, the corner of his own mouth quirking.

"At your service."

He informs you of the time of his arrival, of course. His communication by text message is light, professional.

You arrange to leave work early that day, hurrying back to your home, eyes flickering across the fence to the door of the neighboring house. That's where she is. There is no sign of her at this time, but your imagination conjures up the twitch of a curtain, the soft shuffle of slippered feet within.

Your key slips slightly as you unlock the front door and you enter, closing it behind you with force. Taking a deep breath, you will your muscles out of their tense state.

He will be here soon. He will end this.

You busy yourself with tidying up, hands drifting aimlessly over dust-free counter-tops, shifting a few items around. Sitting is out of the question.

About forty minutes after you arrive, the doorbell chimes softly. Geto is standing a small distance away from the door when you answer it. He doesn't greet you immediately. His eyes are roving across the front of your house, sliding sideways, and you shiver as you see the look that crosses his face as his gaze lands on her house.

Not unpleasant. Almost eager. Hungry.

He turns to you with a smile, eyes curving slightly upward, and you're struck by how handsome he looks. In civilian clothes, a knitted sweater and jeans, black leather loafers and a silver wristwatch, he looks effortlessly beautiful, the swathe of dark hair gleaming in the mid-morning light.

Everything about him seems casual, luxurious. Besides the eyes, of course. They consume the warmth of the yard and reflect something you can't (and maybe don't want to) put a name to.

"Good morning, Geto. Please, come in."

You bow politely and he waves off the formality of your greeting. Somewhere, to the left, you hear a door creak slightly open. Geto steps forward and surprises you by slipping his warm fingers underneath yours, hooking and pulling you forward. You stumble out into the yard beside him and his smile grows wider. He spreads his arms out.

"Why go in when we can experience this glorious sunshine? Let's stay here for a bit."

The door of the neighbouring house is now open. You can hear the protesting squeal of old hinges, but you ignore it and play along with Geto's charade. It must have some meaning.

Shrugging, you finger the slightly frayed hem of your own cardigan.

"I haven't really stopped to soak up the sun for a while now."

He flicks your forehead in a manner that almost reddens your cheeks and by his knowing grin, he is aware of exactly what kind of effect his actions have.

"I've told you so many times. You're looking too gloomy. Flowers like you need sunlight and care."

It takes all of your composure to keep the soft smile on your face as you hear the slide of slippers across the paved garden path on the other side of the fence. Geto glances up and feigns surprise. Reluctantly, you turn to regard the face that has haunted your dreams for almost a month now.

She is openly staring, gaze fluttering between you and Geto with something that looks like alarm. You clear your throat.

"Miss Okoyama. You're out early."

She nods, but she is still scrutinizing Geto. Her voice is reedy, as always.

"Oh, I just ... saw you out. Thought I'd come over and say hello. Haven't seen you in a while."

Her tone sounds slightly accusatory and you feel a tinge of anger. Gesturing to the man beside you, your introduction is almost brusque.

"This is Geto. He's ... a work colleague."

"Ah."

Geto bows politely, playfully. He steps closer to you, and her eyes follow where he places his palm lightly on the small of your back. You feel the warmth of him through your clothes. Feeling more than a little flustered with how this entire situation seems to be unraveling, you grasp his sleeve and tug slightly.

"Let's not keep Miss Okoyama out too long. She needs rest."

Geto greets her politely and follows you back in. You can feel the interrogator's beam of regard on your back, the icy hot trail of watchfulness passing between you and Geto once again.

Once in the safety of your living room, you drop heavily onto the sofa, hands coming up to massage your temples.

"Well. At least you got to meet her."

He laughs and settles down opposite you.

"I'm beginning to see the problem here."

"You are?"

"All too clearly. You mentioned before that this ... strange behavior started last month?"

"Around then, yes."

"And you said that she changed when she stepped into your house?"

You nod, wringing your hands slightly.

"I don't know. Yes. Maybe. I just ... had a weird feeling come from her."

He rises and motions for you to stay seated as he begins a cursory inspection of your home. As he peers into various corners, a stream of questions keeps your attention focused on answering accurately, as opposed to wondering what he is searching for.

"What did you speak about? When she was here?"

"Different things. Our lives, I guess. My job. My family. Her family."

"You mentioned your mother to her?"

You hesitate slightly, watching him as he traces light fingers over the kitchen counter, moving towards your bookshelves.

"Oh, yes. She asked me."

You're not quite sure why you sound so defensive, but he appears not to take notice. He is now examining the books on your shelves.

"Interesting collection you have here. Have you ever leant out any books to her?"

"What? No, never. I mean, after I started having the dreams, I never invited her back here."

The wandering fingers have now flitted from the bookshelf to the stand beside it, holding a small basket for your keys and a potted plant. Feeling a sudden surge of impatience, you stand and make your way to the kitchen.

"Would you like some tea? Coffee, maybe?"

"Oh, don't mind me."

He is now softly brushing the leaves of the pot plant, and you're reminded of how those hands felt a short while ago, fingers coiled around yours. Large, substantial, warm, their strength beyond your ability to guage.

You busy yourself preparing coffee, the rich, decadent scent as enticing as his presence here, in your space. You hear a faint clink and rustle, but when you turn, he is making his way towards the kitchen, sniffing appreciatively.

"Actually, I'd love some coffee."

Your fingers drum across the counter-top.

"Did you ... find anything?"

He doesn't reply immediately, picking up the package of ground coffee and examining the label.

"Does she often ambush you in the yard like that?"

"Once or twice. I ... usually manage to avoid her."

He sets the package down, deceptively delicate. You raise your eyes to his. This close, you can smell the ocean bite of his cologne, cleaner and lighter than you expected. The faint shadow of long lashes falls against his cheek, magnified by the overhead light. His breath fans warm across your cheek, shockingly intimate in the small space. His voice, when he speaks, is soft, so soft.

"Do you know about curses?"

"Curses?"

He wags a teasing finger.

"Dont look at me like that. Curses are very real. They inhabit our world, and us."

You're aware of the line of confusion forming between your brows.

"I don't think I follow. Are you saying that she's cursed me?"

"Not quite. You see, a curse is something that can only be knowingly placed by an expert. And yet, so many of us go about our lives, unaware of the curses that others place upon us. The curses we place upon them. The curses we harbour within ourselves."

You're not sure about the source of your uneasiness, but it is growing. You place the blame on his proximity, the way you can hear his lips part when he speaks.

"You miss your mother, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I - "

"I can feel it. It's here, in the air. Your longing for her."

"After those dreams -"

"No. Before them."

His contradiction is matter-of-fact, a contrast to the feathery contact of his fingers with a stray lock of your hair.

"You must have missed her terribly, to be holding something like this inside yourself."

"What are you talking about?"

You don't mean to whisper. You never meant for that hoarseness to find its way into your voice. The fine balance of terror and desire, now on a honed blade's edge, glides across your skin alongside his fingers.

"I'm talking about your curse. The one you placed on Miss Okoyama."

"That's nonsense and you know it. I've never - "

The black pebbles clatter across your kitchen counter, falling from his fist like a miniature, contained hailstorm. Your muscles lock in place as you watch the sleek, dark grey stones scatter, as if following some unknown law of impact.

"Where did you get those?"

"From your pot plant. These stones are just beneath the surface of the soil. Was it a plant like this one that you gifted her? Did those pebbles on your doorstep really come from her?"

The marble of the counter digs into your back as you lean away from him.

"You need to leave. Now."

His laugh is easy, full of merriment, as if the conversation you've been having isn't fraught with confrontation, tension and (on your part), anger and fear.

"Now, now, there's no need for that."

He straightens, and suddenly, you're aware of how much taller he is, how that gnawing edge of perpertual starvation in his glance has focused its full force on you.

You are prey.

You can't let him go further, and so, you attempt to defend yourself.

"What are you doing? Are you blaming me for all of this?"

"I am. But not in the way you're thinking. You missed your mother. You invited this woman into your home, a presence who may have subconsciously reminded you of her. You gifted her this pot plant, and you began to see a change in her."

He reaches across, ignoring the way you flinch, and gently places his forefinger on the region of your heart.

"You carry a desolation in here. You don't even know it's there, most days, because does one question the desert one inhabits? The drought that came without another's love has been here for a long time. Your dreams of Miss Okoyama reflect your desire to be consumed, rather than escape her. It doesn't change the fact that you are fearful of this need."

He taps the stones.

"You fill the pockets of your heart with stone weights, and you drop them into a lake deep inside yourself. You unknowingly ensnared Miss Okoyama with these same little tokens. But curses never stay silent, do they, my dear?"

Your breathing has migrated to the realm of rapid, shallow pants, dampness breaking out across your brow. You are afraid, so deathly afraid. You want someone to hold you. You want arms wrapping around your body, around and around, a meteor belt lashed to the gravity of your never-ending need.

You want -

His hand is cupping your jaw, so warm, so warm, tilting your head up, your panicked gaze meeting his bottomless hunger. You have so much to give away, this curse as he names it, and if he can help you, then -

"Please."

You hear the desperation in your own voice, and hate every drawn out syllabyl of it.

"Please take it from me. Remove my curse."

"With pleasure."

His head dips with slow, dancer's grace, his mouth covering yours like a drift of autumnnal leaves over the cold earth. It is only chaste for a moment; he is now languidly prying you open with his tongue, lapping at you. The heat of his lips, the soft hum of approval that rumbles through his chest, the final firm slide of his arms around your waist seals in the perfection you have been craving.

This, this, is what you needed. It's all that you -

He licks a stripe across your lips playfully, and then, impossibly, deepens the kiss, your head tilting back under the force. You let out a small sound of pleasure, but your eyes snap open again when you feel something else.

He is hungry. That much is evident in the way he shifts his head from one angle to the next, dampness crawling over your lips and smearing hot along the sides of them. Something is different, though.

There is a strange coil in your stomach, one you'd initially mistaken for arousal. It feels almost as if ...

Gasping, you place your hands on his chest, as if to shove him away, but he is too strong. Keeping his mouth fixed over yours, he drinks of you deeply. And he draws something out.

Eyes widening, you go limp in his grasp as his teeth latch onto your bottom lip, nipping harshly. Those large hands map out the curves of you, tracing the valley between waist and hip, sinking into your flesh, tugging it relentlessly out of you.

For one, long, agonizing moment, you feel a tearing separation within you, one that makes you cry out, breaking the kiss, you head whipping back and forth. He speaks soft words of encouragement, unrelenting in his hold on you, pressing you back against the counter as equal parts arousal and fear war within your ravaged mind.

You eyes open, briefly, but you see it. It hovers in the air, a grotesque apparition of rolling eyes, spidery fingers and an oversized head, claws reaching for you, before it is drawn into a crushing black hole of darkness.

Geto's mouth opens, wide, so wide, and you watch, paralysed, as that black sphere disappears within him, gliding along the velveteen length of his tongue, drawn behind the pearly cage of his teeth, down, down, an eclipse of the throat, until nothing is left.

A terrible rush of fatigue assails you, turning your limbs to lead weights. And yet, there is such relief. It feels as if you've emptied your pockets of every stone you've collected, every little increment of isolation you've endured for such a long time.

Before your vision swims beyond the recoverable, darkness creeping in at the edges of it, you see the satisfied look on Geto's face.

He has swallowed your curse, and the heaviness it brings to your heart.

You regain consciousness hours later, tucked safely into your bed. There is no note, no communication on your phone, and yet, you lie for a moment, staring at the ceiling, feeling more complete than you have in years.

The gnawing hunger was something you'd never known was there, until it was gone. No wonder Geto had seemed so familiar to you in his presence. The thing inside you was just as much of a predator as he was, just so much weaker.

You do wish that you'd regained consciousness before he'd left, though. You'd have liked to thank him for what he's done for you. Glancing across at your phone, you know, with some kind of visceral certainty, that he will never contact you again.

Your fingers rise, trace softly over your lips, and your eyes close once again.

Maybe it's just as well that you were passed out. You hadn't seen Geto leave, hadn't seen him pause on the stairs and glance sideways before nodding slightly, finding no trace of your curse left hovering at the door of that hapless woman's abode.

Miss Okoyama would return to her regular self soon enough.

Geto paused on the street, sliding a small spray bottle of disinfectant from a pocket, as if by instinct. He raised it, the nozzle facing him, before considering it thoughtfully.

He smiled and tucked it away.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

You write for Kaz brekker too ? I didn't know that

How are you love ? Hope you're taking care of yourself , staying hydrated and getting enough sleep 🫶 .

Here's my request ( no Pressure pls ) : I was wondering what if y/n is a dreg , but she and kaz haven't worked together yet , but they go on a job or something and kaz finds out that she's even more unhinged and psychotic than him and he instantly falls for her , a few years later when y/n asks him how he knew she was the one for him , he tells her and y/n is taken aback but also happy that he fell in love with her because of her darkness , and didn't shy away from it .

I'm sorry if this was not coherent , I'm tired rn and I was too excited 😅 anyways tc 💜

warning: blood, mental of past trauma, touch aversion, murder, loss of family members.

Bloody hands

It's an early winter morning. A different one than a handful of years back. No freezing toes or fingers. No blue lips. Clattering teeth. A growling belly. A fireplace is roaring happily and the room is nice and toasty. A warm blanket is draped over your frame but the main source of heat is the body that you’re lazily snuggled against.

It takes you another handful of breaths to take in your surroundings. Ones that even after a couple of years still felt like a joke of imagination. Surreal. Like a dream. One before you die maybe… “Good morning, my darling”, a husky voice pierced through your mind. Making you turn slightly. And here he was. A soft smile broke on your face because there wasn’t a moment now that you weren’t grinning from ear to ear when you looked at Kaz. “Morning”, you muttered softly, turning to snuggle back against his chest. Kaz didn’t flinch. Haven’t been flinching for some time now. At least not when you touched him. Others still ticked him off at times and he was still firmly against any touching with his team and friends. But your touch had always been different to him. “It has healing powers”, Kaz had muttered on one of the first nights when you two had started working on his touch aversion. It had been a long process. One that required a lot of patience. But the result had been worth all the sweat and tears.

“How did you sleep?”, Kaz slowly moved his fingers through your hair, reaching to wrap his arm around you, pulling you even more tightly against his chest. “I always sleep well with you in my bed”, you muttered, palm resting over his heart and the neatly tattooed initials of your name there. “Touché. And to think that you go claiming that you’re an independent woman…”, you didn’t have to see Kaz’s face to know that he was smirking. “You, sir, think too highly of the company you provide”, you jabbed a finger against his ribs playfully making Kaz let out a barely audible chuckle. “You flatter me one moment and stab me the other”, the fake wounded tone that he carries made you let out a breath laugh yourself, as you scooted up on his chest, bracing your hands on either side of him before narrowing your eyes at the now man laying beneath you. Kaz stilled for a moment his hand coming up to cup your cheek before he used your delightful hum as a distraction to flip you both over. Both panting with breathy chuckles.

“Dreamt of you today”, he murmured, making you still. “What do you mean?”, you frowned slightly. Kaz had never been a dreamer. Through the years of you two being together, he only had nightmares or dreamless sleep. “Do you remember the first job we did together, miss black leather boots?”, Kaz teased, brushing his nose against your cheek before leaving a couple of kisses along your shoulder. “You never called me miss back then if I remember correctly you called me a bitch the first time we met”, you shrugged, “And you loved the boots so don’t give me shit for it mr. Black gloves”, you bopped his nose, making Kaz roll his eyes.

“You blew up my warehouse with your makeshift bombs, sorry my words of endearment were harsh”, he hummed right as your hands reached to comb through his way longer black hair. “See, the way I remember it. That building was in my way so the only logical solution was to move it”, you pointed out innocently. “I always liked this unbothered wild side of you”, Kaz admitted after a moment of silence, “No fucks to give, no fear for tomorrow”.

Even if by now you two knew more than well that there had been nothing but fear. Yes, you had made a name for yourself and yes your and Kaz’s paths crossed by accident but it felt as if your two were meant to find one another. Both were utterly beaten by the world but so in need of a company that understood without words what the other felt.

“And here I was thinking that you loved watching me pulling knuckles out of the two bastards the most”, there was humor there but by now Kaz knew that it was simply your cover-up for pain. “I didn’t love it but I was glad to give you closure”, he admitted leaning in to kiss your temple. The way you had helped Kaz to pay an overdue visit to Pekka. Kaz had found the man responsible for your family's murder. Turning a blind eye to the ways you dealt with them.

“Why do you even love me?”, your quiet words jab at Kaz like the sharpest of knives. “How can you even ask that, darling?”, he shakes his head in disbelief. He hadn’t believed in love before he met you. “You know I hate sappy but I read poetry to you, you wear my clothes and get to kiss me whenever you want”, you rolled your eyes at his statements, “Not to mention that I would slaughter a whole town without a second thought if that would lead me back to you”. You crooked your head to the side, watching him, “I like you with your hands bloody, Kaz Brekker”, you smiled up at him. “I’d gladly get them bloody for you Y/N Brekker”, reaching up Kaz carefully took a hold of your hand kissing the sparkling stone on your ring finger.

[pdpenpals]

omg wait i had the biggest crush on garroth growing up, could you write something for pdh garroth? I don't want to steal the confession idea from the other anon but the idea of garroth giving a letter after going 'oh wow I'm late for baseball practice haha! come see me after you read that!--' is so cute

OMG

YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT THIS REMINDS ME OF

THIS VIDEO FOR SOME REASON

also did you know i actually rewrote my own science notes digitally from last year for this request’s header

lol, hope you like it, nonnie! this one's built a little different for the sake of the #narrative.

sir raymond (he insists you use his nickname) always has an unhinged tale or two from his youth (he’s still in his mid-20s) up his sleeve, but the class doesn’t mind it with how he always manages to link it back to earth science, your last class of the week (well, before club period). he graduated from the university bordering phoenix drop, and he’s currently reminiscing about how he and his mates used to cling to its outer gates and hover above the sidewalk on the way there to avoid getting their clothes soaked by the flood whenever it rained (even just a little bit). it hasn’t improved for that area in ru’aun, but it’s always been like that. he should be getting back on topic in 3…2…

your train of thought is interrupted by garroth getting up from the table next to you when a senior pops by the classroom window and makes some motion that only the two of them understand. the class is used to it by now, so he’s able to quietly excuse himself and leave early for varsity duties. before you know it, his figure disappears down the hallway, basking in the afternoon sun. you’re about to chase after him to return the notebook he’s just left behind, but your name written slightly bigger than usual catches your eye.

you almost get caught zoning out when turning a page of his notebook reveals something you’re sure you’re not supposed to see. your cheeks heat up and your heart starts racing.

I’m pretending to be taking down notes, but really, I’m just writing this. Don’t get mad?

Anyway, so so sorry I can’t stick around again this period! Would it be alright to take a look at your notes during lunch period after intrams? I should be able to free up my schedule around that time now that the team doesn’t need me around when there’s no practice. The guilt is seriously eating me alive by relying on you more than I should for Earth Sci, can you not decline the next time I offer to make it up to you?

Speaking of, you should head over to the gym after club. I think the rest of the varsity teams need another pair of eyes to get them to work faster, and so we can finish event prep early. Your friends should be there too, I think? Still, I’d be happy to show you around myself! I can help you fend off anyone if they decide to annoy you.

Irene help me, I feel Sir’s stare on me right now. I’m definitely next to be called on for a question. But thanks to the Divine (I hope so), I can hear my team captain about to round the corner of the hallway outside and call me out for practice and intrams. Hope you don’t get called in my stead. Seriously. Now that’d be another thing to apologize for.

Getting off track now. Anyway! Really hope you’ll drop by later. Your company’s always welcome and such a delight to ha

Today’s To-Do:

🗹 Intrams, Log Committee

☐ ████ Application

🗹 Lunch @ Courtyard

☐ Look up ██████ & ██. ████

☐ Just confess already (keep it casual, it’s not that hard! — L.) (later after club then?)

[thyln4gf]

505

✞ Once again, Im back with the short little blurbs! This time, theyre rather cute and adorable, and are about some of my favourite drivers, a song assigned for each. (I have synesthesia).

✞ Word count - 2,8k

✞ Drivers included - Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Max Verstappen, Daniel Ricciardo, Logan Sargeant, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, Lewis Hamilton, Sebastian Vettel, Jenson Button.

✞ (P.S. - lemme know if you dont see any of your favs. Im more than happy to write something <3)

Lando Yeswins - 505, arctic monkeys

"No!" Your shriek rings out through the air of the somewhat empty room, quickly followed by both of your giggles, as Lando has launched himself into you, picking you up. The man has missed you so, so much. He didnt even think it was possible. Hed spend his free time with looking at pictures of you, wishing that he could feel that skin against his, and... smell it, really. Now, that he has finally gotten the chance...

Your back makes contact with the couch, Lando still clinging to you tightly, and just plopping on top of you. He buries his face into your chest, drawing a deep breath to take in your scent... But you smelled like... him??

"Baby... have you been living in my clothes?" He asks, amusement laced into his tone. His face was still buried right where his favourite place was, though.

Silence from your end. One awkward chuckle later, you burst into another fit of giggles, followed by the heat that rose to your cheeks. You werent so sure if it was the man making you blush, or him being a damn human radiator doing the trick. Either way, you didnt mind - the golden retriever goofball of a man was excited to close the distance between you two again. A little too excited, even.

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

Oscar Leclerc Piastri - teenage dream, katy perry

Him. You. Both of you. A lot of people have called you the dream team, and you have seen a lot of jealous tweets. Posts about your relationship in general - people seemed to be suckers for the childhood friends to lovers trope. So much that you could barely keep track of them anymore.

You have incorporated scrolling through the socials, and hunting for cute memes to annoy him, straight into your routine. His dms from you were filled with various kinds of those, mostly a spectrum of cat memes. Yes, a spectrum. You seemed to be unhinged enough to even ask for fun time alone through those. And, to be honest? They always worked on him. Always.

This time, it was no different - you were curled up on the couch, Oscar laying his head on your stomach, trying to nap. You could be seen scrolling, and... yep. Looking for some memes.

You find something else, though, your heart melting at the sight. You cant even hold the 'awwww' in, as much as you wanted to...

"Huh?" Oscar croaks out, rising from his slumber. All he heard was you making some sort of noise, and he instantly realized that he was about to get a phone right up his face. However... he slowly looks up and sees you... crying?

He doesnt say anything, but scoots up slightly instead, his face landing right by your neck. He looks at the little screen... Only to see a picture of two small children, both in race suits, both giggling on a makeshift podium. He quickly comes to the realisation that hes looking at both of you, at one of your first karting competitions together. And its all it takes to make a tear roll down his cheek as well. A happy tear. Hes quick to start kissing yours away, not even hesitating. Your skin tingled at the gentle contact, and you softly chuckle. Thats exactly what he wanted to achieve. A laugh out of those pretty lips of yours.

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

Max Verstappen - im yours sped up, isabel larosa

As tough as this man looked out there, in the face of the cameras... he turned into a whiny puddle whenever he was wrapped in your arms. Something about you made him melt each and every time, making him feel safer than ever. Is that because you usually used rather masculine fragrances and smelled like a dad that he never really had? Maybe, maybe...

He was getting his daily dose of cuddles in. This time it was more of a comfort than it has ever been - he didnt do good, and didnt even finish the race. He felt awful.

"Are you going to leave me now?" You suddenly hear a muffled voice, coming from a certain mans face, currently getting buried into your chest.

"Pardon?" You respond, a confused chuckle following the single-word sentence. He wasnt insecure... as far as you knew.

"I said what i said, Liefje... now answer." the man groans, almost making you chuckle again - he was awfully adorable at the moment.

"No, baby, im yours. For life. Have you forgotten?" your voice reminds him, as you slip one of your hands away from his waist, wiggling the fingers not too far from his eyes. He feels you pulling your hand away, the action making him look up slightly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. That quickly melts away as he sees the engagement ring on your finger, one that he proposed to you with a few days ago.

"Right... i still havent gotten used to that. Sorry, mijn mooie vrouw." He responds, a small, tired smile slipping onto his lips, and you cant help but give him a small peck. You might be a master at making this man blush, but he had the exact same effect on you as well.

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

Daniel Ricciardo - Iris, the goo goo dolls

Evenings spent with him on the porch were your all time favourite, easily - especially if it included watching the sunset. In that case, you had two incredibly gorgeous views to rest your eyes upon. And he definitely knew you were staring at him, instead of the pretty orange colours dancing across the sky - he just pretended not to see.

You two were cuddling on the beach chair - your body in his lap, your back to his chest. Hes currently zoned out just a little, honestly. He has adopted the habit of adoring the pretty clouds from you, and pointing out all the interesting shapes. This time, though, you were quicker than him, and an excited 'ooohhh!' coming from your mouth lets him know exactly that.

"Look! That one looks like a honey badger!" you excitedly blurt out, trying to point at the shape with your finger. He follows, and quickly sees what you wanted to show him. The cloud, indeed, is honey badger shaped. You earn a hearty chuckle and one of his grins that you loved oh so much. Yes, those grins.

His arms tighten around your waist, his lips not being able to resist from leaving a trail of kisses on the back of your neck, eventually landing on the back of your head. And you didnt need much more from him - you knew that it was his way of thanking you. By making you feel all warm and giddy inside.

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

Logan Sargeant - american teenager, ethel cain

Spring has just started rolling around, leaving you to deal with your allergies. Its not like it was something new, or something serious, but it annoyed you nonetheless.

You two had a date that you were looking forward to all week, but suddenly, you felt like you couldnt live two minutes without having to blow your nose. Great. Logan noticed your mood immediately, so he had offered to watch a movie at home instead. You didnt resist much - you wanted to spend some time with your man, after all.

After cuddling up to him on the couch... You silently thanked for the ridiculous misery of your fate - feeling his body right by yours felt way better than spending time outside. Hearing him quietly breathe by you left you almost ecstatic, the warm air brushing by somewhere on your body, and as of the current case, your hair. Speaking of hair - he liked planting those little kisses to the crown of your head whenever you had your back to him. Almost just as much as looking at your backside.

These little moments reminded you just how far you two have come - it sometimes still felt like you were a pair of awkward teenagers, trying desperately to get over yourself to talk to each other. You still tease him about it, honestly - watching the popular guy at the school blush and giggle was the favourite sight of many.

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

Charles Leclerc - k., cigarettes after sex

"Chéri, look! Thats cute, no?" You heard Charles come into the kitchen, cooing at something on his phone. You didnt have the time to turn around and look at him, honestly. So he was forced to come up right behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, his palm softly brushing by your stomach while in the process. You couldnt help but wonder...

1...

2...

Yep, here it is. A gentle kiss to the corner of your jaw. You cant help but chuckle as his lips make contact with your skin, pleasure shooting down your spine almost immediately. He usually stops at one, but he seems to be in a playful mood today - because he doesnt, and continues to trace a line, almost connecting the dots on all your little moles and freckles.

"What is it?" You ask him with a chuckle, trying to distract him. However, you just dont get an answer. Just a phone getting shoved almost right into your face. The video that he wanted to show unpauses, and a scene of a cute puppy running around could be seen. Your heart instantly melts.

Charles seems to notice, because he already looks like a kid on christmas morning.

"Can we... adopt him? I even have a name!" He blurts out excitedly, making you chuckle again. You knew of his passion for dogs... so one wouldnt hurt, right?

You didnt even get to reply before he launched himself into a rant about why getting a dog right now would be a great idea. You just knew that you were going to spend like an hour, just listening to him talk. But you didnt mind - you enjoyed the sound of his voice, and watching the way he speaks with his hands whenever hes excited. It was truly an awfully adorable sight to witness every time.

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

Carlos Sainz - good luck, babe!, chappell roan

He had a small ritual of hugging you before his races - he fully, firmly, and truly believed that hes not going to achieve any good results if he doesnt. And, look - it was true, so far. The win in Singapore? In his head, it was all because you initiated a hug that day. His arms had lingered on you for a little longer than they should have been for you two being just friends, but its not like you two minded, at all. You actually craved him and his touch. You craved to feel those hands around you, and to hear his voice murmuring something into your ear. You wanted, no, needed to feel the scent and the warmth of him being so close.

So you never really protested against his idea. In all honesty, it was the most desperate move that someone has ever tried to hit on you with. The most adorable one as well.

If you thought that you were going crazy from him invading every single nook and cranny of your mind... You should have taken a look into his. You and him both knew of the rumours floating around the internet, and all the fans almost straight up telling you two to just make out already. And that has almost happened, and multiple times - one of you always ended up awkwardly pulling away, though. Having him as a friend felt good, but you were sure that having him as a lover would feel like heaven.

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

Lewis Hamilton - older, isabel larosa

"Thank you, love." His voice floats through the air of his drivers room, effortlessly reaching your ears, making you blush. Just a little. You had passed him his water bottle - his hands were far too busy with your hips, caressing and squeezing them with great care. His legs were spread a little, you positioned in between them. Yet, it still didnt seem like it was close enough for him - he kept trying to pull you closer, almost desperately tugging on the material of your jeans. A hand of his was now occupied with the water bottle, so he finds that as an opportunity to wrap the other around you fully, bringing you closer, once again. You almost fall over, but you catch yourself with a hand on the wall right besides his head. Helping Lewis train sometimes did help, huh?

"Hey there, easy! I couldve fallen right on top of you!" You had mentioned out loud in mock annoyance, trying hard to keep a chuckle at bay. It was hard to do so, though, because you could see a grin appearing on his lips. No, onto his whole face - the entirety of it would light up whenever he smiled or laughed, melting your heart each and every time.

"Do you prefer to be under me then?" He murmurs as a tease, leaning in to give you a chaste kiss on your neck. He knew that it was one of your ticklish spots - so he had adopted the habit of placing the gentlest kisses of them all right there. They never failed to make you feel flustered and giggly, making sure to spread a blush all over your face. Lewis was just secretly happy that you never seemed to notice his own blush, just like right now.

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

Sebastian Vettel - too sweet, hozier

You were sat at your desk in your home office, working late. Again. All sorts of papers were scattered all around you, a pretty decent amount crumpled up and thrown aside as well. At first, youd aim for the trashcan, getting all giddy whenever youd make a shot. But the more time passed, the more you didnt care. You found yourself thinking of the fact that your husband wouldnt be really pleased at your current decision, and you being grateful that hes currently away for a few days. And you just happily continue focusing on your work.

You had focused a little too much, perhaps. Because you didnt hear Sebastian returning home, didnt notice him opening your office door either. You only did that when he spoke up, startling you a decent amount.

"Brought you coffee, schatz." He said, quietly walking to appear by your side, placing the mug down. You smiled at him in appreciation, tilting your head up to look at him. Right as you do so, you get surprised with a forehead kiss. You cant fight the smile that wanted to appear onto your lips, going back to your work. You fully expect Sebastian to protest, to go ahead and try to pull you away from the work. But what does he do instead? He lets his hands meet with your tense shoulders, and gets to gently massaging them, slowly kneading out the knots. No words said. A quiet hum escapes your throat. You two didnt need any words to communicate, really. He understood you on a deeper level, just like you understood him. Isnt it sweet?

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

Jenson Button - one of the girls, the weeknd

"Twirl around again?" Jenson requests, making a spinning motion in the air with two of his fingers. You had decided to make him watch your fashion show after the shopping spree of today, just like you usually did. Every time. You thought hed be a little annoyed at you for forcing him to sit down on the couch, basically pushing him backwards right onto it. It was far, far from it - hed even encourage you to go shopping sometimes. 'Honey, its our anniversary next Saturday. Dont you want a new dress?', 'Go get something new, we're going out tomorrow', and 'i think you need to refresh your wardrobe' were phrases that you heard pretty often. And not for the reasons youd think - this man just truly and genuinely enjoyed seeing you smile, and the enthusiasm that would possess your whole being when it came to showing him. You liked to call him a simp, but in his books, that was just being reasonable.

You gladly fulfill his request with a giggle, spinning around to let the skirt of the dress flow around. This one had a great score on both of the 'spinny' and 'shiny' scales, which he learned from you pretty fast. However, he sees you suddenly stop. The surprise on his face is almost as big as yours. However, you quickly gasp and start giggling again, shoving your hands into... some pockets?

"It has pockets!" You excitedly blurt out, turning both of the pockets inside out to show him. That earns a chuckle out of him. You play around with the pockets some more, and start spinning again. As much as Jenson adored your silliness, sometimes. Hed worry about you bumping into things... and it would happen pretty often. But he was always there to baby you, placing gentle kisses around the spot you had just hurt yourself.

[marq-lynch]

Goddamn It but I'm getting emotional thinking about the next phase of the StrickPage feud they've set up and how Swerve might just save Hangman Page with the Power of Love.

No, really. Hear me out...

Swerve approached Hangman initially with the intention of proving himself worthy of a title shot, but also because he saw Hangman as someone who had lost his way, squandered his opportunities, and forgotten who he was: a deathmatch dealing little maniac who channels his anxiety into truly unhinged Cowboy Shit when push comes to shove. And in pushing Hangman to remember that and see how far that rabbit hole went, Swerve found the parts of himself that mirrored and perfectly balanced Hangman: not only the obsession and violence, but later on his integrity, some aspects of his relationship to the fans, etc.

But as they spiral further and further into this obsession with each other, it becomes clear to Swerve that while he Sees Hangman, Hangman no longer sees him. Or perhaps, he never saw him. For all the grandiose talk they have of being bound together, Hangman seems to twist Swerve more and more into a cartoonish villain in his own mind while he himself sinks into horrific acts, while Swerve has always maintained a literal grin and a laugh at their games. They're playing, right. (He knows that they've been playing, right?)

So Swerve pulls away. He focuses on himself, he becomes champion, he does great, he disengages, this isn't healthy. But he can't avoid the pull. Hangman draws him back in, having let the game take over his perceived reality. The 'Go Home to Your Wife' promo before the house fire and cage match? Is so good at showing this. And by the end of that match Hangman seems to have a moment of horrific, slightly too late realization, that Swerve is Just a Man.

So what's the important difference between Swerve and Hangman then? I think it's that throughout the feud and before there is a continuous effort to show that Swerve Strickland is Unapologetically Himself. He starts the feud as a heel and face turns with a bit of introspection but no apologies as Hangman will point out, but mostly he owns every one of his actions. He is confident in himself, his gear is constantly updated and customized, he puts himself into his music, his name is literally Swerve the Realest. All those stupid posts about how being yourself is work you have to choose? Swerve does all that, and rocketed to the top of AEW at an insane pace.

And Adam Page? Adam Page is the Anxious Millennial Cowboy, who loses himself to every feud he's in, or to the AEW Men's World Championship which means that he's a Good & Successful Person, by the having of it alone. Swerve lost the Championship to Bryan and knocked it off his shoulder that next week, saying 'I will always be referred to as a World Champion', because he has the self-confidence and self-esteem so he doesn't let it define him.

Adam is the one won't admit that his wife left him months ago, who is hiding under layers of alcohol and rage and isolating himself to avoid further rejection again in a repeat of patterns he's had before, but this time even the audience has turned on him as well, clinging to the one remaining relationship that he can to define himself with Swerve.

He has a perfect, fucked up double in Swerve. But only Adam is the one with the broken mirror reflection.

We had The Redemption of Adam Page the first time he won the world championship, yes. But if he wins it again? It's going to be because he's hit a new kind of rock bottom that allows him to figure out who he is without the love of anyone to lean on as a crutch- Not the Dark Order, Not The Audience... All he has is a version of him that's already done it, successfully. And been loved for it.

Hangman just needs to let himself stop hating the warped perception of the version of himself that loves himself and kiss love him too

Thank you for coming to my ted talk

[astheworldgoesonitswickedway]

Get ready for yet another analysis of Count Olaf's behavior. Every time I make one of these I feel like I have to explain that I'm not justifying his actions but there's just so much complexity to him. Especially for someone who hides behind so much shenanigans. And honestly, the man is a psychopath, right, and he's one of the most chaotic fictional characters i can think of. The reason he is so interesting is because a character so chaotic and careless of his own well-being, doesn't usually last long enough to allow us a deep analysis of their unhinged behavior. Speaking of, let's talk about the way Olaf repeatedly tries to murder the Baudelaire children in drastically horrific ways such as decapitation, only to occasionally try to preserve their lives and keep them. Ok so, we know he needed at least one for the fortune, but that excuse doesn't explain all his behavior. Especially considering how rich Esme was, he didn't even need the fortune. There's definitely an element of being obsessed with the chase, he thrives on it sure. But how about his attempts at making them his henchpeople? I offer two reasons for this contradiction and he's so messed up, maybe both apply. I propose that 1. He believes corrupting them and making them his slaves is the best way to get revenge on their parents/corrupting them would make it easier to convince himself that becoming a monster wasn't really his fault. And 2. in a manner of speaking, he becomes attached. As far as corrupting them goes, he accepted their "help" without hesitation in the Penultimate Peril because it made sense to him they would be as disillusioned as he was and want to lash out. He thinks they HAVE been corrupted, and he's pleased. Yet, just before this, in the books, the children use their skills for him for once, and he is openly impressed by the things he previously mocked them for. I think he was secretly impressed the whole time, always wondering how they pulled off these unlikely escapes. They lost their parents, just like he did and he knows what that feels like. Its not confirmed whether it was by Olaf's hands but i hold to the idea that he was at least involved. Maybe a small part of him feels responsible for making them feel the way he felt. They've experienced horrible things, definitely by his hands, but they stuck to their principles. Sure this is part of why he hates them, it frightens him. If he recognizes they are right, its the same as recognizing he is wrong. It means in a way, they are stronger than him and he desperately wants to prove they are wrong and he is stronger. But I think a tiny piece of him can't help but admire them too. Later, in The End, he accepts them as his henchpeople strangely quick, and constantly repeats that offer despite their disinterest. Yes, he no longer has any henchpeople, but the Baudelaires have never been conformable to his wishes, it doesn't make sense to try so hard to keep them just because he needs new "employees." The harpoon incident is a good example of his attachment to them. Its slightly different between the book and show because the book indicates Olaf would have forced himself to go through with it and in the show he stands down. When finally given the opportunity to kill them easily and all at once, he struggles and cannot do it. Proving that at some point, he changes his viewpoint and doesn't REALLY want to kill them. He was relieved when they turned out to be alive in the Slippery Slope, even if he tried to play it off as being about the fortune. Which I know, its about THAT fortune, on "principle" but still. By the end of the show, he has changed his priorities from killing the children to keeping them. Don't get me wrong, he would have been horrible to them. But I think his plan was to do to them what his mentors did to him. As a side note, I love that as Olaf begins to associate himself with them, it works vice versa. They wonder if they ARE becoming as bad as him. Which is kinda sad to read/watch, because, of course they aren't. Don't you just want to reassure them?

[massivechildtidalwave]

Interesting prompts involving KHR in case anyone wants to use them. KHR X DP edition

This is part one there will be more. Feel free to use just tag me if possible so I can read them.

After a reveal gone wrong Jazz takes Danny and runs to Italy to escape their parents. (she took Italian for curiosity sake and it makes sense for her to go a area who’s language she could speak). Tucker and Sam help with the escape but because all of them leaving would be weird and raise questions they don’t need, are forced to wait until the end of the school year to join them.

Jazz takes the easiest job she could find that makes money because she’s not relying on her brothers best friends family money even if Sam insists, with Tucker giving school information to get through the required bits as quickly as possible. She lands on a high paying customer service job like hairdressing or

Tucker also gives them fake identification just to make sure the government can’t find them and force them back to the Fentons.

whoops! Some members of the Varia frequents the place that she works and are suspicious. (She is way to capable for the job, No CIVILIAN should be able to catch Bels knifes, do hair to perfection and still have time to coo at a cat from across the street while being completely unfazed by the KNIFE they just had to dodge. It’s just something that doesn’t happen.)

Something is clearly not right with Jazz Nightengale, they just know it! Whoever did the background check is getting fired!

Meanwhile with Jazz, she’s doing her best to be normal but she was born a Fenton and there is just a amount of insanity that is tied to that family no matter the legal connection.

Everything Danny learned came from her and I feel like she’s the kind of kid to have picked up knife tricks or random weaponry for the “experience”

Danny is healing, he’s doing online school, she has a well paying job and is going back to school to become either a psychologist or a therapist. In her mind everything is fine.

(Tucker is the kind of kid who breaks into government documents for fun with outdated technology, he could absolutely get his own handmade documents past Varia inspection, he was making them with the intention of them holding up to government scrutiny and is best friends with Sam. )

(Jazz lived in a murder house her entire life while basically parenting Danny, not only can she multitask she is also Flame Active. However I think she would instinctive hide her Flames because of how ‘unnatural powers’ have been handled in her family. I’d place her as either a Rain or a Cloud depending on how well she is mentally after escaping with Danny. This could lead to Cloud Gaurdian Jazz.)

🦋🦋🦋

For Angst or Hurt/Comfort lovers

Danny as Verde could lead to some interesting angst. Maybe Dani needed some help keeping her form and he went into science, maybe we threw himself into science after a Nasty Burger explosion to avoid becoming like Dan, or maybe he had to quickly find a way to earn money after a Reveal gone wrong and decided to use what he knew about technology from his parents to make things for selling.

Of course once he had money he could experiment a little bit. slowly making more and more things based on his interests instead of just for money. However it slowly gets darker as he makes slightly more unhinged experiments with different methods to explain them.

He wants to create a new better prosthetic out of boredom but doesn’t have any one to give him feedback, until he runs into someone attacking someone else. He saves the injured person but their arm is pretty messed up, he might have to remove it. And his prototype is an arm prosthetic so might as well get that feedback!

He remembers his parents muzzles quite well and makes a more horrible version after a nightmare as a way to help get his footing back. “If someone can get out of this, I have no reason to fear their variation of them because I could probably get out of them too! And I recently had to help someone escape an abusive ex so we already have a willing test subject!”

Just him justifying his projects as they get closer and closer to things his parents would have come up with, without noticing or acknowledging that that was what was happening.

The earth shattering revelation when he’s sitting on the ground recovering from an experiment on how to grow back to how he was before the curse, because he had no other lab rat to test it on, and slowly realizing that he’s acting like his parents.

That his fellow Arcobaleno aren’t just distrustful of him and his experiments because he is a stranger to them but that they slightly fear him.

The realization that they only come to him when desperate for an answer. Figuring out that he knows the least about the others not because he is busy but because they do not fully trust him enough to stay around him long enough to give him that information….

Verde, who used to spend countless nights protecting people so much it became an obsession before the accident and his core turned to discovery and the stars, isn’t sure how to fix this.

He gathers the Arcobaleno after making sure the cure works, sits through a meeting full of suspicion he had to talk his way through, slides the case holding the cure into the table and leaves for his labs. The labs he needs to throughly clean and bleach and sort through to make sure all his projects aren’t as bad as they were before, but at this point he had no clue what is supposed to be morally correct to him at this point.

The Arcobaleno are left confused. Verde was doing his mad scientist shit with the cure but he was acting…weird. Weirder than normal, he didn’t demand anything for the cure, nor did he stay to monitor the effects for *science* like he always did for projects like this. He was acting weird enough Skull even went to the lab they knew he was in and tried to talk to him. They were fully expecting him to get pulled into an experiment but Verde just yelled at him to go away.

He sounded panicked. What the fuck was going on with their resident scientist.

[kingconia]

I saw the Neuvillete one and I come bearing a different Fontaine Character!

So how would the following react to an MC with personality traits of Navia?

Rook Hunt (Romantic)

Idia Shroud (Platonic)

Professor Trein or Professor Crewel (Mentor) (Your choice as to which professor to write)

Please and thank you!

ROOK HUNT, IDIA SHROUD AND PROFESSOR TREIN WITH FEM!MC, WHO IS LIKE NAVIA FROM GENSHIN IMPACT

Rook Hunt; romantic. 💜

— I have a feeling him and you will be a lot like Navia and Clorinde dynamic, but slightly a more teasing one;

— You play your own very strange little games, in which Rook follows you everywhere, trying to stay unnoticed, and you suddenly disappear from his view as soon as he relaxes, leaving funny notes and roses after yourself. Moriarty meets Moriarty;

— You find a common tongue quite quickly, and it is not only about french! You both are undeniably loud, cheerful, strange in eyes of others, and, oh! You like unsightly hats!

— I feel like students feel strangely uncomfortable around both of you as you speak nonsense—for others it seems this way, at least—or genuinely act very unhinged. And your flirting? It the worst!

•

”Y/n, l'amour de ma vie, where are you?” Rook hums thoughtfully, narrowed eyes scanning the bedroom where he just heard your voice a few minutes ago. ”Y/n?”

But the room is empty now, and the only thing that catches his attention is one of your fancy hats being left on the bedside. Clearly, intentionally.

Rook wastes no time in raising it in the air. As he expects, there is a note and a breathtaking violet rose under it, just waiting to be found by him.

’Catch me if you can, mon petit gâteau!~

P.S: I found this ethereal little thing this morning, when I was having my daily walk with Riddle R. It was obscured by others, more pompous ones, shyly peeking out from the bush. Others was blind to it, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from this flower. It reminded me of you, and so I painted it violet to this resemblance being even more obvious.

— With love from the one, who would poison you, if you were by husband.’

A laugh that escapes his lips is ever cheerful as Rook swirls the rose between his fingers, noticing only now that to addition to everything it is thornless; a clear evidence of the work of yours.

Quickly, he takes off his hat, leaving it behind, putting yours on his head instead.

”Well-well, Y/n... The one, who would drink your poison if he was your husband, is coming. Beware.”

Ah! What a perfect match you are!

Idia Shroud; platonic. 💙

— I genuinely believe he doesn't understand how such a loud and extraverted person, managed to befriend him. But you did, somehow, so congratulations? Or condolences. He is not sure, who suffers the most out of two of you, yet.

— I also feel like you intentionally pretended to needing him for some work or project, just to get closer and befriend him, but Idia thinks it was an accidental, lmao;

— He is so happy, when you tell him, that though you never played games before, you are willing to learn how to play his videogames, so he wouldn't feel so lonely;

— And in return for your kindness, Idia agrees to spend time with you on your weekly shopping sessions! Ah, sweet summer child... If he only knew!

•

Idia groans, hiding his face in his palms as he hears your quiet musings behind the door of the changing cabin. It is some silly french song, but in given circumstances, it is a lot like a dead march for him.

When you first told him about shopping sessions, Idia seemed surprised why would anyone waste time on something like this, when online shops literally existed. But, nevertheless, he tagged along with you. Because he is a good friend.

And at first, everything seemed fine. Yes, of course, you chose a very questionable and flushy clothes that looked as if someone pressed a ’random character design’ button, but... At least, you was quick! A few minutes here and there, and you finished with each shop effortlessly.

Until you saw a shop with hats. That is where everything started to crumble.

You spent fifty minutes only on staring at different hats, touching and checking their material, and carefully analysing every part of it as if it was a peace of art. And then, you spent even more on trying them on by one one, with different bought outfits from before! And it is not even going to end soon!

”So,” you ask, while opening the door of your cabin. ”How does it look, Idia?”

He has no idea! All of these hats look similar to him: too bright, too much, too pointy. What are you, a witch from nineties?!

”Cool,” he answers, offering you an awkward smile, not willing to he honest in this one.

You sigh.

”I don't kno-ow... Something is off.”

You have been telling the same thing over and over again. At this time, Idia wants to say that your style is off in general.

”Everything is very cool, I don't know.” He repeats, shrugging.

Please, let it work, please—

”Let me try another one,” you click your tongue, before disappearing again.

Idia wishes he could die.

Ah, the things he is doing for his best friend...

Professor Train; mentorship. 🤎

— He is a proud father of a few daughters canonically, so as soon as he sees you as one, you are instantly becoming his favourite student off all the time;

— But truth to be told, you really make his life as a teacher easy. It is often that students ignore his subject, calling it boring and the most uninteresting one, so when you start to ask him questions during the lessons, considering the topic of it, he is pleasantly surprised;

— And, oh, Lucifer loves you! When this cat jumps off his arms, to hide on your lap, professor Trein is absolutely... Shocked. That is unusual for his cat, but it is undeniable now: you are a trusted face;

— You are such a diligent and quiet student on his lessons that he is genuinely surprised, when he overhears that you had been a real troublemaker on other lessons! What do you mean Crewel hates you for criticism of his looks? Had you really broke your broom on Vargas's lesson?..

•

Mozus realises that it is you, who knocks on his door, when Lucifer starts meowing quietly, trying to catch his attention by scratching the fabric of his pants.

”Yes, Y/n?” He calls for you, allowing himself to take a quick break of checking everyone's homework.

You peek from the opened door, eyes slightly wide.

”How did you...”

But the question never leaves your lips, and instead you march in with a big pile of old books in your hands.

”Good morning, professor Trein!”

He gestures you to come closer with his hand, that is not busy with stroking the cat's fur. As you do, he examines you again, remembering his conversation with headmaster Crowley he had this morning.

It is so hard to believe that he described you as ’a smart, yet worthy of getting expelled’ student! Professor Trein can't understand how would anyone say something so deceiving about you.

”Good morning. How can I help you?”

You put books in front of him with a loud thud, gasping for air, clearly tired of carrying it around. Smiling widely, you gesture at them.

”Professor Trein, do you remember how you said that it is unclear what happened in the history Shaftlands between 13th century, after the revolution?” He nods, and you puff out your chest proudly. ”I called my uncle, and look at what I found in our family library! Here it is, the secret information!”

It is his turn to look astonished now. Had you really gone for all these troubles because of the small note he muttered near the end of his lesson?

”So, I brought it to you, thinking that you will be interested, maybe?”

...No, there is no actual way someone sees you as a rude girl! You are the best students he had in centuries. He actually will leave this working place if someone ever tries to get you expelled.

”...Ah, thank you. That is very nice of you.”

You lean closer automatically, and he pats you head as a reward; a very common thing you bribe out of him for good studies.

Lucifer uses this opportunity to jump on you as you laugh, catching the cat hastily, clearly being ready for such an unexpected attack.

Mozus smiles shortly, watching you dancing around the class with Lucifer in your hands, and then, checks the books on his table again.

...Ah, perhaps, being a teacher is not that bad, after all.

[no-see-um-incorrect]

Correct Yuurivoice listeners 

These are things that I think the YV listeners have said (NSFW warning⚠️) Based off of things that I’ve said, or things that have been said around

(keep in mind these are my versions of the listeners so they’re slightly unhinged&out of context, )

Rook💋

“hell yeah it’s pullable” (referring to Auron’s hair) 

“i’m a little too hungry to fuck so maybe I should suck you off first”

“curiosity killed the cat is just a PG way of saying I fucked around and got my pussy pounded”

“🎶mama I’m in love with a drug lord~🎶”

“he’s a little Cunt, but maybe he’s just special”

“when I said that I want you I meant that I want all of you…..plus the scars give you bonus sexy points”

“here lies the heart that was shredded to pieces by the person it belonged to~” (Rook it has been 20 minutes. he will text you back I promise)

“oh, I am one heartfelt smile and half of poetic monologue away from having this man’s kids” (Afab Rook)

“Hear me out. what if I spelt mine on your tits with hickeys…..any thoughts? I am open to critique”

Casper🔪

“i’m not like other girls~ I’ve got a strap and a bad attitude”

“according to the state, I have committed no crimes…..that’s according to the state tho”

“if she tried to ask you out one more time I would’ve caught that charge”

“he’s just a baby and babies get cold….so I bought him six sweaters…and matching booties”

“or you could become a house husband…that would work”

“I took a secret sixth option. My love language is intimidation” 

“no wonder he became a villain. His nickname’s Goob!”

“because I love you and I love us and I really really really hate 4 AM”

“didn’t you fuck after that?”

Angel 🍳

“🎶without love~ Life is like a breakfast without waffles~🎶”

“oh please, everything can die even the devil”

“we are not putting your nudes on the wall for my parents to see”

“Just because emotional vulnerability is my weakness doesn’t mean it’s a weakness”

“well, I’m pleased to know that your mom would like me”

“We already had that this week….although now that I’m saying that out loud that has never stopped us before”

“no I’m not buying a bigger bed because I don’t want to cuddle. I’m buying a bigger bed because I want the life-sized psyduck plush”

“gotta love THEM TITS”

“if you kiss my ass anymore this will turn into a very different porno”

————————————————————————

I’ll do sugarboo, star and Sunflower later 

Sorry if there are any typos 

[onceandfuturelesbian]

another fic prompt cause i’m unhinged

in a closed council meeting w no servants (merlin as court sorcerer and next to arthur), arthur starts talking about how he thinks they shouldn’t called servants “servants” because he thinks it’s offensive/derogatory etc. and proposes they call them assistants because that’s what they do; assist.

“with all due respect, my lord,” merlin’s hard stare focused on the king, “that’s bullshit.”

“excuse me?” arthur, shocked by merlin’s comment, but more so by his language. he’d never heard merlin curse in their ten years of knowing each other.

“maybe you’ve forgotten, but i was a servant. your servant.”

“… yes, i’m aware.”

“servants do everything for their masters and more. we are below every other person living in this castle, we have to do whatever anyone tells us to do. we don’t assist. assistance implies we help with a task you are already working on. servitude means we do what we are told, no questions asked, no objections-“

“present company excluded,” merlin hears arthur mutter under his breath and fixes his glare back to his king.

“with only help offered by the occasional kind servant who has no urgent chores. which is very, very rare. we do the work for everyone in the castle, almost never sleep more than a few hours, before waking earlier than everyone else and do it all over again. we sleep even less if we have two jobs and also take care of secret, magical threats to the kingdom and its king.

“so no. we do not assist. we are not assistants. we serve. as servants.”

merlin catches his breath as he glanced around the table, everyone’s expressions ranging from annoyed to shocked to guilty and contemplative.

arthur absorbs every single detail that merlin had revealed. he felt impossibly guilty that not only did merlin do so much for him with no recognition and no rest, but that merlin had spoken as if he was still a servant. did he still feel that way? did people still treat him that way?

“so,” arthur begins quietly, resolving to speak to merlin about that later, “what would you suggest we do instead?”

merlin considers his question for a moment, finally calm after reliving his struggles of the last decade.

“make their lives easier,” merlin catches the confused faces of the council members. “hire more servants so you can give everyone days off without shortages and the chores won’t be spread so thin, increase wages slightly, the crown can afford it without tax increase,” at this, merlin makes sure he looks arthur and all the stuck-up noblemen in the eye.

“but most importantly,” merlin ensures he has everyone’s attention so his voice is truly heard. “be kind and protect them. servants do everything the nobles cannot, this castle would not stand without them. servants cannot protect themselves from visiting noblemen and women whose views are different from camelots. our servants happiness and safety should always be a priority.”

finally, merlin meets arthur’s gaze once again. he expects shock or maybe even anger, but all he sees is pride and adoration.

“it seems we all have a lot to think about,” arthur speaks like a king and merlin is enchanted (ironic). “council is dismissed.”

later, arthur asks merlin about his time as a servant, why he spoke as if he still was one, how people treated him now, etc

and if a few months later, the servants in the castle were happier than ever, well, everyone else was happier because of it.

—

aka merlin gets to be a bamf and school nobles on class issues while arthur is in awe

[chameleonwritess]

Okay, the babysitter polls have spurred enough thoughts in me that I need to yap about Wataru. Do I think he would be the world’s best babysitter? No, absolutely not. He’s still unhinged and a freak and would likely forget about the very normal aspects of childcare quite easily (i.e. he would be so busy entertaining them he’d straight up forget to feed them unless one of them reminded him food existed) (also see the time he handed in an essay that just read ”AMAZING⭐️”. He is not helping with homework.)

(Rest of my yapping under the cut bc I got wordy…. Again….)

But…. I do not think he’d be the worst. There’s literally a chapter of Dance Floor where a bunch of kids come to the park and Wataru uses it as an opportunity to try and teach the rest of fine how to entertain kids, and they’re ridiculously impressed with the amount of energy and stamina he’s got whilst endlessly entertaining the children. He captures their attention really well in Toyland, too. Approaching this as someone who spent the last 2 years working at an after school club, I found that the easiest way to get the kids to listen and do what you told them to when you needed them to do something was… to entertain them, match their freak, join their games, and get their attention. Sure, I was working with kids a bit younger than the 4Piece kids, but from my experience with slightly older kids, the theory still works. So with Wataru being canonically good at grabbing children’s attention & sufficiently entertaining them PLUS his willingness to do so (because with a lot of characters, I feel like they’d be bad babysitters because they wouldn’t want to do it. Wataru… is an entertainer, and he loves to surprise people and have them be impressed. Children are a prime target for being impressed and surprised by his new tricks. He has a homescreen voice line about trying his tricks on ppl from different agencies bc everyone else seems to be getting a used to them . The new kids are a perfect target for him to entertain! I think he’d be glad for the opportunity), I think he’s got this.

Now, with the topic of the juniors Wataru doesn’t take care of so well…. I think people often forget that the very prominent examples of how he treats Tomoya and Tori aren’t a blanket example of how he treats his juniors. He’s lovely with Sora and even takes him on as an apprentice despite expressing unwilling to teach him at first, and he was anxious about being looked up to at the start of Puffy Bunny, but he still entertained all his juniors and tried his best with them, even opening up to Hinata!! (and despite the others believing he was pushing them too hard, that wasn’t Wataru’s doing!! He WAS paying attention to their limits, and he felt bad when he thought he had been pushing everyone too hard, not knowing it was those guys putting in extra hours to create stuff for the performance). He’s harsh with Tori’s training because a) when he first met Tori he did NOT care about fine and was essentially just making sure to ruthlessly train him to an ability where his and Eichi’s plans could be carried out, and b) he knew that pushing Tori was going to pay off and release his potential (which it did!! Tori has said that Wataru’s training is effective, if brutal). And with Tomoya, we have stories such as Reloaded where… Wataru’s still a bit of a menace with him (let a guy have some fun- Tomoya is just…. So bulliable, look at him!!!) but he wanted to help Tomoya learn and find asking for help easier. A lot of the time his cruel treatment is to make Tomoya grow, and making him furious at Wataru is a good method, in a weird and warped way (okay it sounds like I’m condoning what Wataru’s done to him which, like, I’M NOT……. BUT IT DID WORK 👀). Remember how Tomoya used to hide in the cupboard of the theatre room until Hokuto was there to save him, and he was just so terrified of what Wataru would do to him that he wouldn’t leave? But now look at him!!!!!! Jumping from planes screaming that he hates Wataru and Eichi!!!! Idk man I kinda feel like Wataru played a large role in that growth hmm (okay I’m getting biased now ugh sorry)

Anyway, all this is to say that I don’t think Wataru would be the WORST babysitter, and I will stand by this firmly. He’s not the best- certainly not out of Puffy Bunny because Mika is right there- but I feel like the worst title could go to any of the others over Wataru. Shinobu is shy and would teach them probably dangerous ninja moves and also is likely to freak out if he can’t get them under control. Hinata…. Would possibly have a lot of fun with it! And COULD be a responsible babysitter!! But he also could very much decide it would be funny to take them out busking and start making them do tricks on the street for money! And Hiiro would take the phrase babysitting literally. And sit on them. Okay probably not and he MIGHT be okay at it buuuuuut I feel like he’s more likely to be confused about stuff and then the kids will gaslight him and Hiiro will leave more traumatised than the children. Love the lil guy but I don’t rate his responsibility when it comes to childcare…

This is way too late to change the poll outcome and I don’t really intend to achieve that. I just enjoy yapping about Wataru and Enstars in general. I’m also possibly wrong about some stuff in here- as much as I read as many stories as possible, I may be misremembering things and I haven’t read everything, so I do apologise if I’ve confidently lied in here. But yeah, if Wataru is cast in the role of ‘babysitter’, that’s a performance he’ll master with competency