#this has probably been done but it’s fun

[skellyrose]

"the shiny you've been looking for fucking killed itself, for fun, while you were taking out the other pokemon, in a vain attempt to still catch the shiny, even though it's a horde battle, because apparently this person you're playing as who has likely practiced throwing a pokeball at things since they were a young child is too bad at throwing pokeballs to hit one pokemon (who is holding still) in a group of other Pokemon, probably because gamefreak either didn't know how to code it, or were running out of time before release. Fuck you! Horde battles could have been a cool new addition to Pokemon, but we made it terrible, just to fuck with you!!! :)"

These cats are very cute, but I have always been mad about horde battles. I needed this. I remember the first time I encountered one, when I was playing the game they started in (I forget if it was X/Y or Sun/Moon), and it was one of the hordes with a bunch of a common pokemon, but one slightly rarer pokemon in there, so I got excited, like "wow, this is a cool new way to do this! You can have multiple rolls on the encounter table all at once, kinda!" And then I weakened it, and then tried to throw a pokeball. "Oopsie!! You are dumb, and stupid, and not smart. You gotta defeat the other ones before you catch this one, dumb dumb!!! It's so dumb and stupid of you to think you could POSSIBLY hit just one of these 3-5 pokemon who are not moving at all, when your trainer has reliably done that for a few hours, now!! You are bad at video games, and also existence as a whole!!" And then I think that pokemon died, somehow, before the encounter ended, and I never saw another one ever again.

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

Basic prompt but the pc saving Kalim life some how or helping him just because it's the right thing to do. Kalim struggles to process the pc saved him but also turns down a reward. They tell him they did it because their friends. Que a heart to heart where it sinks in to Kalim the pc is that genuine.

HELLO?! THIS IS SUCH AN INTERESTING AND FUN REQUEST?!?!?!

Note: . . .what does pc mean? I got a request with it and thought it was a typo at first but then I got more, and I have a feeling y'all aren't talking about a computer. Y'all really got me feeling old (/it's funny to me tho to feel like a 19yo grandma)

(Note Note: I came back to this after a few weeks (I'm busy, okay?!). . .does pc mean playable character?)

Summary: You save Kalim from getting nailed by a spelldrive disk and have to explain to him that acts of kindness from friends don't need monetary compensation. (Kalim x Reader)

It wasn't anything big, or it wasn't to you at least. A spelldrive disc had been hurtling at Kalim's head and you simply pushed him out of the way (you knew how bad those things hurt (once you woke up from them knocking your lights out that is)). It was a simple gesture: just a nice thing to do.

But, to Kalim? You were a saint that needed to be rewarded immediately. He insists that you take a cash reward as compensation for saving his life, but you refuse (and sevens know you could use the money).

Kalim initially thinks you're joking or being polite when you refuse, but he soon realizes that isn't the case. "What?" he gapes, his eyes the size of saucers.

"No, thank you. I was just being nice. I don't need a reward for that." as you repeat your words, you notice Kalim shaking his head.

"Still! A lot of things people get rewards for are from being nice! Like finding and returning a lost cat!"

Your brow quirks and an amused smile creeps onto your face, "Yeah, but in that situation the two parties aren't usually friends." It was clear from the look on Kalim's face that something about what you were saying wasn't clicking.

The smile slowly fades from your face as you speak, "You know that you don't have to pay friends for just being nice right? For just helping you out?"

He's quiet for a moment, his face scrunched up in contemplation, "Cater and Lilia have said stuff like that after they help me with something, but it's usually just something like explaining homework."

It's then that it clicks for you that Kalim has probably never actually had a friend other than Jamil help him out with something significant before, and Jamil is on his family's payroll. Kalim grew up sheltered in an environment where everyone who was kind to him was paid by his father to do so.

Your hands reach to gently cup his. This time, you speak in a softer, more definite tone: like you're explaining a homework problem, "Friends help each other out because they're friends and because they care for each other. They don't do it because you pay them to."

A mix between distress and disbelief cross Kalim's face.

"Jamil doesn't count" you add: assuming that's what he was upset over. "You can be friends with someone who works for you."

He remains silent for a moment, his face keeping that same, odd expression. "Oh." is all he says when he finally does speak. Despite what many believe, Kalim isn't stupid. He's naive in certain situations, but that's only because he's much too experienced in the harsher realities of life. This is to say, he's competent enough to realize that your words are not too subtly insinuating that most of the people who have done acts like the one you just did for him weren't being genuine. They weren't his friends.

Unable to think so something to say that would ease his pain, you do all you know to and offer him a hug. You open your arms with a soft, inquisitive look, and Kalim collapses into you like a runner exhausted after a marathon.

No tears leave his eyes, nor sobs his mouth, but you can tell by the way his body lays limp against yours that he's not okay. There's nothing you can say to him. His worldview just got shattered. That takes time no amount of words can compensate for to heal.

So you hold him. You keep the pieces of him that chip off and crack away held firmly together in your embrace.

And you keep holding him. You will continue to hold him until he's ready to pick his pieces back up on his own again.

When he is, he'll have you, one of his first real friends there by his side.

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[eden031]

First meetings

Part 1 , Part 2

Pairing: Jack Abbot x female!intern!reader

Warnings: age gap (reader is mid 20’s, Jack mid/late 40’s), cursing, medical inaccuracies, misogyny (by one of the patients), mentions of suicide attempt (of a patient), mentions of child injury (of a patient), Jack Abbot is emotionally constipated, jealous!Jack Abbot, night shift shenanigans

Summary: After agreeing to do Dr. Robby a favour and transfering to the night shift she has to face that working with Dr. Jack Abbot might not be the easiest.

A/N: Soooooo we are so back baby. I am already working on a part three for this and in all honesty I might make this a longer series. Also Robby might be a bit ooc, but I wanted him to be kind of the ED dad, so here we are. Writing this is actualy so fun, though this part is more there to set up the next parts and get the story moving. Another thing is I made a playlist for the vibes, so if you are interested just click HERE

For two weeks she had successfully avoided Dr. Jack Abbot, well avoiding him was the wrong term: she had practically fled the area every time she had spotted him and if she had to go near him it was only if Whitaker or Mel were with her. Talking to him alone would probably make her brain short circuit within the matter of half a minute. Still she had tried to be as subtle as possible about it, never going too fast or just turning on her heel without apparent reason and from her perspective she had done an outstanding job at pretending to everyone around her that she was not avoiding him.

She had promised herself to be angry at him if she ever saw him again, that promise had been made about two weeks after their first meeting, between drinks and pizza shared with her roommate. Yet once these hazel eyes found her she was just putty and it scared her. Hell she had not even reacted to her first real boyfriend like this, she had never reacted to anyone like this. The only reason why she had been able to be angry at him or at least snappy was that she had been incredibly hangry and would probably have snapped at a lot of people in that state when she had met him in the Pitt, and there was probably also some shock to it.

The shift was finally coming to an end, she had thought that her first shift had been grueling, but this shift, the first shift in her third week in the Pitt, had probably been worse, there had been a pile up on the interstate and all victims were brought to the PTMC. There were about ten people severely injured and twenty six more minorly injured, it had been all hands on deck and the interns and med students had been left to make sure that the people with minor injuries were treated quickly.

That had kept them busy the entire day while they still had to deal with the usual flow of patients. Glancing at the clock she saw that it was seven thirty, the shift was officially over, though she could not leave yet. Dr. Robby had asked to talk to her, something that was strange in and of itself, usually if an attending wanted something from an intern like herself they would talk to the senior residents first. Shaking her head she ran her hand over her face, hoping that it wouldn’t take too long and that it wasn‘t something too serious. Afterall she had a date with a hot bath and left over lasagna. Watching as most of the other day shift staff was leaving she let out a low grumble of discontent.

“Sorry that took so long,” the voice of Dr. Robby caught her attention, just waving her hand in the air she shook her head.

“No worries,” the issue had not been that she had to wait for him. The issue was that the waiting had induced some anxiety in her, wondering what the hell the man could possibly want from her.

“So,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his head, he stood hunched over, an almost guilty expression on his face, “I need to ask you something,“ he sounded so guilty and unsure that she was beginning to get really worried. It sounded like he was fighting with his inner moral compass. „Usually interns and med students stay on day shift, but due to the issue with Dr. Langdon not being with us anymore and there being four people we somehow need to make sure stay supervised most of the time it‘s a bit much,“ he looked at her with those big brown puppy eyes of his that made him look about ten years younger than he actually was. At least now she knew in which direction this was going. He was about to continue with his explanation of the situation as she decided that she would just address the elephant in the room.

„So one of us needs to change to the night shift?“ she asked, tilting her head slightly. Dr. Robby sighed, his hand going back to the back of his head, scratching awkwardly.

„You don‘t have to, but it would lighten the workload on everyone and make Gloria happy,“ well there it was, there was the reason Dr. Robby seemed to feel so bad about asking this. It was probably Gloria being a pain in the ass and bugging him about it.

She knew why he had asked her specifically. Bridgit had taken a liking towards her, some had started calling Bridgit her work mom. The older woman always checked in on her during shift change, always made sure she had eaten something before leaving the hospital. Dr. Ellis and Dr. Shen also seemed to like her, from what she knew she was one of the people from the day shift that chatted the most with them, she and Dr. Ellis had even had coffee together once. They had coincidentally met in the same coffee shop and decided that it would be a good idea to have their coffee together. Still there was one question that burned on her mind now.

„Did you talk to Dr. Abbot about this already?“ she asked carefully, trying to gauge how far this process had already gone.

„Yes, but not only you.“ Dr. Robby paused, „I talked to him about the four of you,“ the four of you probably being Santos, Whitaker, Javadi and herself. „He told me that he would be glad if you joined his team,“

That almost knocked the air out of her, butterflies in her stomach doing happy little flips. She had thought that Dr. Abbot would be unhappy about her coming to the night shift, hell she would have thought that he might even tell Dr. Robby that he did not want her around him at all.

„I just have to ask: what did you tell him? It‘s not like I performed a damn RABOA in the field like Santos did, or even worked through the MCE like the others,“ she glanced at the floor, it was a genuine question, the others had a lot more experience and confidence thanks to that. She heard him sigh, cringing internally, knowing that this was probably a bad idea. Before she was able to tell him to forget it he spoke in that kind and gentle voice he used when talking to patients when he knew they were feeling uncomfortable or scared.

„You know that it is not always about what a person has already done, right?“ he gave her a small but kind smile, „There is a lot of potential I see in the way you work,“ he paused, „Do you still remember the unresponsive kid that came in last week?“ There had been a few unresponsive kids last week, but she knew exactly which one he was referring to.

She nodded silently, it had been scary to see that kid, not older than four that had apparently taken a tumble while playing with his brother and was unresponsive afterwards. She had asked one of the nurses if someone had already checked his glucose levels because she had looked into the chart and not seen anything regarding them. Apparently everyone had forgotten to do that, the worry of a little boy having taken a tumble while playing with his brother was too great, everyone focused on the fall, though his blood glucose level had actually explained the tumble and the unresponsiveness.

„Or the veteran suicide attempt?“ Dr. Robby asked.

That one had hurt her so badly, the man had survived four tours, then just a week after he had come back from his fourth tour his wife and daughter had been hit by a drunk driver, both dying on sight. She had been one of the people that had initially treated him and also been the person to get him to calm down with what she was saying he had been alert and very aware of what was happening. Afterwards she had always checked in with him, in his attempt he had lost both of his legs above the knee, recommended him a support group for veterans in the most gentle way possible, one she had been told about by a friend of hers from med school. After he had been able to get a bed upstairs she started visiting him after her shifts, always having tea or coffee with him before she headed home completely.

„Yeah, of course,“ she nodded, she hadn‘t worked here long enough that cases would start blending together.

„That is why Abbot wants you on his team,“ he paused, „It‘s because you care, you pay attention and yet somehow work quickly,“ he shook his head, „To be honest I am not too happy with letting you go.“ a friendly smile on his face.

——————————

After that conversation she could never have refused Dr. Robby. So that was how she had ended up at the ED, at six fifty in the evening with two huge boxes of donuts balanced in her arm as she tried to put her backpack into one of the lockers. Pressing the door shut she looked around, the stethoscope resting against her neck, this time she had opted for a long sleeved thermos underneath her scrubs, from what Bridgit had told her the ED could sometimes get cold during the night, even if the AC was running. People from the day shift were already filtering out, apparently for once shift change had gone smoothly and people could pack up and leave the PTMC on time.

Suddenly Dr. Shen appeared from behind her, in one hand his coffee, the other one tangled in his badge.

“Precious cargo you have there,” he gave her a slight grin as they continued to walk towards the entrance to the Pitt. The donuts slowly got heavier in her arms as the door leading into the organised chaos of the Pitt came closer. She could feel her heart hammering in her ribcage as they walked together, she would have to face Dr. Abbot today and she knew that she needed to stay focused on the job.

“Thought that I could bring them as a bribe so that you go easy on me,” she joked as he held the door open for her so that she could slip into the hallway, luckily the next door was the staff break room. Dr. Shen laughed as he shook his head slightly.

“Abbot never goes easy on the newbies,” he continued to slurp on his coffee. A slight shiver ran down her back as she thought of his warm and steady hands guiding her through a procedure. Shaking her head she quickly deposited the two boxes holding 25 donuts each onto the table in the breakroom, the sticky note still attached to them, a little note she had written wishing everyone a good shift.

“Great,” the sarcasm was dripping from her mouth as they turned to head towards the nurses’ station. Dana was still there, talking to Bridgit, who seemed to be extremely focused on the info Dana was giving her. She looked around, seeing Dr. Robby and Dr. Abbot talking to each other, Dr. Ellis standing beside them, nodding along.

Dr. Shen was approaching the group of Doctors, his coffee still securely clasped in his hand, she trailed behind him, glancing around, trying to see if there were still people from the day shift there that she could say hi to.

“Shen, finally,” Ellis greeted the junior attending that now stopped his rapid approach, moving to stand in the circle of people.

“You have looked better before,” he commented in a teasing tone as he slurped his drink, she crossed her arms over her stomach, doing her best not to look at Dr. Abbot who seemed to have his attention on the board more than anything else. She could feel the crackle of tension between them spark up again, it was unnerving as she stood there, waiting to be told what she was going to be doing during this shift.

“Yeah, no shit,” Ellis gave Shen an annoyed glance, “Olsen called in sick half an hour ago, can’t get a replacement in at this time,” she muttered. A sigh escaped her lips, realising that this would mean they were probably going to be in a bit of trouble, she had asked around a bit before her transfer and she had learned that Dr. Olsen was an R2 on the night shift.

“Ah great, but we got our intern now,” Shen patted her on the back. “And she brought donuts,” he announced, with that statement the mood of Dr. Ellis seemed to shift slightly.

“Chocolate glaze?” she asked with hopeful eyes.

Nodding she smiled slightly at the senior resident of the night shift. It already felt more familiar in this setting, maybe it was also because Santos was not bugging her the entire time.

“Chocolate glaze with chocolate sprinkles, got them specifically for you” she nodded, along to the silent glee spreading on the face of the senior resident. Dr. Robby laughed softly, giving her a quick smile.

“Alright, I am heading out of here, have a good shift,” with which her old attending disappeared somewhere in the depths of the Pitt, Dr. Ellis followed close behind, probably going to grab a donut. Standing there with Shen, who was still slurping his coffee, which was slowly getting on her nerves, and Dr. Abbot, who still had to address her, was slightly unnerving. Suddenly her name cut through the silence like someone had dropped a glass, it had been her last name, but it still sent a shiver down her spine as she looked at Dr. Abbot who was now directly looking at her, those hazel eyes focused on her and only her.

“Yes?” She tried to sound professional, but her voice came out in a quiet squeak, tilting her head slightly and she cleared her throat. Secretly hoping that it was good enough of a cover up for her squeak. He uncrossed his arms, the muscles in his forearms flexing slightly as he moved, his biceps flexing.

“You think you can handle the wound care cases on your own?” he asked, his eye contact never wavering, not even a little bit. At first she had thought it to be incredibly attractive, the way he always made sure to have eye contact with the person he was talking to, but now it flustered her, especially since her mind went back to how intensely he had looked at her when he hovered above her. She nodded courtely, watching as he seemed to think about something, his eyes drifting away from hers, lower on her body, she knew that if she moved now Shen would definitely notice it, “Also check in on the waiting room, bring back the more serious cases you spot, someone will take a look at them then.���

“Understood,” she could feel the heat rising to her face as she saw his eyes drifting off again, it felt like something began to crackle between them, suddenly he snapped his head up as Bridgit called his name. As he began to head towards her he turned slightly while walking.

“Oh and Josie will be helping you!” he pointed at an older nurse who was currently busy talking to Myrna who was sitting by one of the charting stations.

“Got it!” she muttered under her breath and headed off towards the waiting room, deciding to check out the situation there, evaluating how long it would take to get rid of the backlog from the day.

Most of the shift until a certain point was spent stitching up cuts, getting glass out of wounds, then getting them stitched up as well, treating minor burns and all that belonged to wound care. Josie was extremely helpful and made for great company, meaning that every single conversation with a patient became somehow amusing or at least not a complete disaster. She had just finished up a small head wound that needed two stitches when Dr. Ellis had swung by, telling her that the waiting room was practically empty now, something that was a huge relief. The only person left to be treated, who was currently being brought to the back, was a man that was slightly agitated from the wait and had cut his hand open while cutting an avocado.

As she stepped out of the room from the man with the cut on his head, who would be discharged in about half an hour, the cut had been from nothing serious and keeping him for observation was simply going to block the room. She heard an angry voice coming from one of the rooms, waiting for a moment Josie came out of it, shaking her head.

“Was that the guy that cut his hand when trying to cut an avocado?” she asked as she fell into step with Josie, she wanted to get the discharge papers for the man with the head injury ready before going into patching up the man with the cut on his hand.

“Yes, and I am telling you sweetheart, take either Dr. Shen or Dr. Abbot with you when you go in there, or maybe Nico or Tommy, but for your sake and my conscience don’t go in there alone,” Josie gave her a pointed look, her gray hair pulled back with a claw clip.

“That bad?” she cringed internally as she continued to head towards the nurses’ station. Josie nodded softly.

“I think the only reason he didn’t insult me or try to punch me was because I gave him some pain meds,” she sighed, shaking her head softly, “People these days.”

After getting the discharge forms ready she started looking for someone to take into the room with the patient. Seeing Tommy, one of the nurses leaning against the other side of the nurses’ station, quickly getting up she moved over to him, not wanting to bother him, but knowing that she needed to get this cut out of the way before the late night falls started coming in, Josie had told her that that time was approaching rapidly and she wanted to take a breather before those came in.

“Of course,” he nodded after she had explained the situation, walking towards the room she felt her heart beginning to hammer in her chest. During the day shift she had already experienced various disgusting behaviour from patients, but never had she feared for her actual personal safety during these times.

“Fucking finally,” was the first thing the man said as she entered the room. Taking a deep breath she greeted the man and started to prep for the suture.

“Mind telling me why the nurse is going to stitch me up, Doc?” the man asked as she put on the nitrile gloves, he was looking over at Tommy, who had taken a seat on the other side of the patient, getting all her suture materials ready.

“Because she is the Doctor and I am the nurse,” Tommy responded dryly, his voice was low and gruff, though he was clean shaven and she could only describe him as smooth looking.

“Gotta be kidding me, letting women do all kinds of shit nowadays,” she glanced at Tommy, Tommy glanced at her, their conversation did not need words. She needed to figure out now if it was safe for her to patch him up or if she should just call Shen or Abbot and get them to do it. Well she knew that Abbot would probably be annoyed when he was called away from his case, if she had caught it correctly a few moments ago there was a big trauma heading their way, meaning that neither he nor Shen would be available anyway.

“You will have to live with it,” she said with humour lacing her voice. She explained the procedure to him and as she started to inject the lidocaine into the palm of his hand after checking for nerve or tendon damage she heard one word very clear and very loudly coming from him.

“BITCH! You fucking bitch!” he practically hollered as she continued to inject the lidocaine, not taking it to heart, even though she knew he was actively cursing her out, not just shouting in pain, she continued. Finally she was done and soon was able to start stitching the cut shut. The man continued to grumble about her and her stitching, but the look she and Tommy shared made the entire procedure a lot more bearable.

The end of the procedure couldn’t come soon enough for her, especially not after she had given him a few instructions on wound care and having to come back to get the stitches removed. He had given her one last harsh glare, muttered something about her sleeping with her boss to get where she was, then took the discharge papers Josie had thankfully gotten ready while she was working and left.

Now sitting at the nurses’ station she felt a little uncomfortable, she knew that no one knew about her very first encounter with Dr. Abbot, but the words of the man had hit a nerve, trying to shake it she took a sip from her tea. The trauma case was now upstairs and there was a lull in the buzz of the Pitt.

“So what do you think about getting coffee before tomorrow’s shift?” Tommy asked as he leaned back in the chair beside her, his eyes gleaming softly in the light. A small grin on his lips, she licked her lips nervously. There was a moment where she hesitated, but then she decided that it might be a good idea.

"Yeah, why not!” she smiled at him, leaning back in her chair as well, suddenly a crack sounded through the low hum of the Pitt. She felt the back of her chair fall and she tumbled to the ground, the laughing started before anything else. Tommy hoovering by her side also started laughing as she held up the broken back piece of the chair.

As her laughter died down she glanced over to the side of the station where she felt like a dark storm cloud was brewing. Abbot stood there, his thick arms crossed, watching the interaction with an expression she could only describe as disapproving, still laughing slightly she raised her eyebrow at him, he simply walked away. Even if she did not want to admit it, a stinging sensation of hurt settled in her chest as she watched him walk from her away again.

——————

Tags: @antisocialfiore

[love-quinn]

THE GOOD WITCH

[coming soon!]

featuring . . . ! patrick zweig, art donaldson, remus lupin, rafe cameron, steve harrington, spencer reid, aaron hotchner, tasm!peter parker, dodge mason, dave lizewski

─── hello hello how are we ??? i’ve been a huge maisie peters fan for a few years now, and since she’s been teasing her next album i thought i’d do something fun to kind of commemorate the good witch before we move on to MP3. i’ve also been experiencing some major writers block :/// so! to combat that, here are some fics that are VERY VERY loosely inspired by some of the songs from the album <333 i hope you enjoy !!

TRACK ONE : THE GOOD WITCH [patrick zweig x reader]

when all i do is think about the past, create a universe that you can live in

you’ve done a lot of growing in the 4 years you and patrick have been broken up. you’re hoping he has as well because you’re still desperately in love with him.

TRACK TWO : COMING OF AGE [dave lizewski x reader]

baby i am the iliad, of course you couldn’t read me. so i’ll leave you behind but that don’t mean it’s easy

dave’s had a crush on you since he could remember, but he’d driven you away with his superhero duties. you’re the TA of his class and he’s determined to get it right this time.

TRACK THREE : WATCH [spencer reid x reader]

nobody actually happy and healthy has ever felt so desperate to prove it

you’re trying to show the team that you’re fine after spencer’s return from prison. if you were coping well, you probably wouldn’t have to try so hard.

TRACK FOUR : BODY BETTER [art donaldson x reader]

i can’t help thinking has she got a better body? has she got a body better than mine?

your boyfriend patrick is convinced that you have a thing for tennis players. you say the same about him. it doesn’t help that you’re both sleeping with one.

TRACK FIVE : WANT YOU BACK [remus lupin x reader]

and what was cheap to you, to me was all i had. the issue is i know all of this and i still want you back

remus was punishing you for something that wasn’t your fault. you should hate him. unfortunately, you can’t bring yourself to.

TRACK SIX : THE BAND AND I [dodge mason x reader]

told her you were just a friend, told her i was homesick. i hadn’t thought of home twice

after moving across the country to go live with your aunt and participate in panic, you’re wary of the boy who works at the diner she owns. he’s wary of you too.

TRACK SEVEN : YOU’RE JUST A BOY (AIKTM) [aaron hotchner x reader]

don't you see what i'm giving up and you can't even text? don't be surprised now i'm giving up, god, what did you expect?

aaron isn't a bad boyfriend, he just tends to get caught up in his job. you wouldn't mind his constant abandonment so much if he didn't always forget to tell you.

TRACK EIGHT : LOST THE BREAKUP [tasm!peter parker x reader]

so, i'm feeling and i'm dealing with the heart you broke, while you do press-ups and repress us and take off her clothes.

for peter parker, you're it: the one that got away, the best thing that ever happened to him. now that you're broken up, he expects that you hate him. he could be right; you can hate someone and still need them to save your life.

TRACK NINE : WENDY [rafe cameron x reader]

then you're evasive on the phone until you're sorry on the floor. so i'm throwing you a bone cause you want me and you're sure. if i'm not careful i'll wake up and we'll be married and i'll still flinch at the sound of a door.

it's been unspoken and set in stone for as long as you'd known each other: you and rafe were in it for the long haul. you've loved rafe since you were young. now that you've grown up, your feelings haven't changed, you're just waiting for him to grow up as well.

TRACK TEN : BSC [steve harrington x reader]

i'm gonna throw you down the river, your mom can watch it over dinner, golden boy you've dropped the ball. i am annie fucking hall. if you don't love me, what was april?

steve thought breaking up with you after his experience with the upside down would be his best bet of keeping you safe. unfortunately for him, you don't know how to keep your nose out of his business.

these will come out every so often depending on how well they do lmao i hope u like them ik this is different than the stuff i’ve done so far :]]] ty to @robinsgrl and @xxepherr for letting me yap abt these as much as i like :]

[manmuncher777]

I can’t get the thought out of my head, choso def has a Prince Albert. But what if he had a split tongue 😜!!!!???

You read my mind nonnie!! Wrote this quick Drabble but I do have a pierced choso fic in the works, hope you enjoy xxx

It started so innocently.

Well, relatively innocently.

Choso had messaged you early that day, something about a surprise. Of course you naturally got excited thinking that he was bringing you choso late or taking you on a date of some kind. But you certainly werent expecting this.

Your boyfriend arrived, looking no different to normal, holding no chocolate in his hands, but a big smile on his face. When he came in he was practically buzzing with excitement. Showing off his latest look.

Opening his mouth, sticking out his tongue to show its new look. Split.

It suited him well, and at first you were just happy he was pleased with it, it matched his style well, and looked pretty cool. You couldn’t help but watch as it flicked out over his lips, travelling over the ring he already had in the skin. He couldn’t stop looking at it himself, having fun with the added movement it gave him.

It was the way he split his tongue when he smiled —

the two tips curling, parting, moving independently — slow and teasing.

You swallowed thickly, trying to focus on the book in your lap, but your thighs squeezed together automatically.

He noticed.

Of course he noticed.

“You like it,” he said, voice low and amused, tapping his bottom lip with a black-nailed finger. “Staring real hard, sweetheart.”

You glared at him — or tried to — but he just grinned wider, tongue flicking out again, twisting in the air.

And god help you, it was filthy.

Your mind raced with images you probably shouldn’t be thinking about.

What that tongue could do between your thighs.

How it would feel, split tips curling around your clit, teasing you from two sides at once.

You bit your lip — but Choso’s eyes locked onto the motion immediately, dark and heavy-lidded.

“C’mere,” he murmured, voice like velvet, patting the space between his legs.

Your body moved before your brain caught up.

You tossed the book aside and crawled over, settling yourself between his thighs, heart hammering wildly.

“Good girl,” Choso praised, voice rough.

“Wanna see what else it can do?” he asked, voice low and thick.

You nodded dumbly, breath catching in your throat.

Choso leaned in — so close your noses brushed —

and then dragged one forked tip along your bottom lip.

Then the other.

You shivered, gasping softly.

He smirked.

“Sensitive,” he teased, letting the twin tips trail lower — over your jaw, down your neck, until you were squirming under the feather-light touches.

“Choso—” you whimpered, hands grabbing uselessly at his shirt.

“I know, baby,” he rasped. “Been thinking about you since the second I got it done. Thought about how good you’d look crying on my tongue.”

You let out a broken sound, and Choso finally pushed you back, pinning you gently to the bed.

“Lemme show you,” he whispered, nuzzling into your neck, nipping lightly with his teeth. “Promise, gonna make you feel so good you’ll never think about anything else.”

Before you could respond, he was moving down — kissing over your collarbone, your ribs — tugging your clothes off with clumsy, impatient hands.

And when he finally got between your thighs —

oh god —

you barely had a second to prepare.

Because Choso’s split tongue was everywhere.

The difference was immense. The control he had over each tip of his tongue was amazing, and he was certainly putting his skills to use. Using each tip to trail teasingly between your folds, moving in sync one moment, and in opposite the next. The stimulation unlike anything you had ever felt before. Skin of fire with every movement he made.

Back arching off the bed as he teased you

Tips flicking against your clit — soft and fluttering

It was overwhelming — like being teased twice at once —

too much and not enough.

You were gasping, back arching off the bed, grinding up helplessly into his mouth.

“F-fuck,” you sobbed, hands flying to his hair, tugging hard — but it only made him groan against you, vibrations shooting straight through your core.

“So good,” Choso mumbled, tongue flicking faster now, messy and wet and obscene. “Taste so fucking sweet, baby, fuck—”

You barely registered your own moans, loud and desperate, as he worked you over ruthlessly, dragging you closer and closer to the edge.

When he curled both tips of his tongue around your clit — squeezing it lightly, flicking fast and filthy —

you shattered.

You came hard, thighs clamping around his head, body shaking uncontrollably.

Choso groaned, lapping you through it, split tongue never once stopping until you were sobbing his name.

When you finally slumped back against the mattress, boneless and gasping for air, Choso pulled back —

lips shiny, eyes dark and possessive.

He licked his lips slowly — twin tips dragging sensually over each other — and grinned down at you.

“Told you you’d like it,” he said, voice hoarse.

“And I’m just getting started, sweetheart.”

[seoulmatez]

𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝑜𝓌𝓁

boothill happens upon your conversation with a friend back home — a conversation that leaves you considering what exactly you're meant to do with these feelings of yours.

• boothill x f!reader ﾉ 2k wc ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ non-canon compliant ﾉ farmhand!boothill ﾉ non-sexual partial nudity ﾉ light teasing ﾉ petnames (darlin')

previous part ♡ masterlist ♡ next part

It’s late—you know so because the sky has turned to a deep navy. You can hear the crickets chirping through the open window, feel the cool night breeze whisper against your skin. Beyond those telling signs, your eyelids are beginning to feel heavy. They’re screaming at you to close them but you know that if you do, you’ll fall asleep in a second. You can’t do that now, not when you’re on the phone giving your weekly update to your friend back home. 

“So,” her voice crackles over the line, “how are things in farmville?”

You snort at Meg’s nickname for the little town you’ve come to know as a second home. As much as she pokes fun at the idea of having a ranch to run away to, she’s been supportive of your decision to retreat here for solace. She keeps you in the loop when it comes to the drama unfolding in the office and listens attentively when you tell her what you’re up to on the farm.

You have a feeling she might be offended that you didn’t tell her this bit sooner.

“Fine.” You draw the word out, rolling onto your other side on the couch as if repositioning will give you enough time to stall. Despite not being able to see her face, you imagine that the woman is wearing an expression that says something along the lines of I know you’re hiding something. Even through the phone, she can see through you. “I might have gotten a concussion a few days ago.”

She gasps and you can hear her slap her hand over her mouth. You’re sure if she could, she’d reach through the phone and shake you by the shoulders before thinking better of it and rushing out a string of apologies. Though, she can’t, so she settles on questioning you instead. “What happened? Are you okay? Why the hell are you just now telling me?”

You relay the series of events to her—how it happened, boothill finding you, your visit to the doctor, and boothill playing nurse since then. Her worry seems to dissipate as you explain and by the time you’re done, she’s laughing.

“What are you giggling about?” you ask her, but a little part of you already knows. Boothill’s name always seems to make its way into your conversations and since the start of these weekly calls, Meg has held onto the belief that you’re harboring a crush on the farmhand. You brush her off every time she suggests that you like him but like a leech, the thought always latches on and lingers.

“Probably hard to deny your feelings now, huh?” You can hear the smile in her voice. You pucker your lips in annoyance. You didn’t think telling her about the way Boothill makes you feel would result in Meg throwing it back in your face at any given moment. Though, you suppose you can’t be surprised. She’s frustrated that you’ll admit those feelings to her and not him, that you won’t act on them. “He’s already taking care of you like you’re his girlfriend—how romantic!”

“It’s not romantic,” you tell her, shaking your head, “he’d do that for anyone.”

“Even better!” Meg squeals. The shrill sound makes you pull the phone away from your ear and you only return it to its former position when the woman lowers her voice. “If he’s like that with everyone, that means he isn’t trying to impress you. He’s just a compassionate, caring guy who happens to have a thing for you.”

You chew on your cheek as you contemplate her words. You’ve never doubted that he’s a good guy—you’ve seen too many instances of his big heart in action to think otherwise, though, the part about Boothill having a “thing” for you is a bit harder to believe. Sure, he’s called you pretty numerous times, unintentionally held your hands on a couple of occasions, but that means nothing, at least when it comes to whatever feelings he might have for you. You’ve convinced yourself that most of the things he does that make your heart flutter or your cheeks burn are simply to get a reaction out of you—a little embarrassment for the sake of his entertainment.

“Ugh, when are you going to be brave and spill your guts to him?” Meg’s voice cuts through your thoughts.

“Never! I’m not telling him anything.” You close your eyes and take a deep breath to ground yourself. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here and, more importantly, I have no idea if he even likes me.”

“And you’ll never find out if you keep running away.”

You’re about to tell her that you aren’t running away or avoiding anything but you press your lips together before the words can hit the air. Because you have been—you can recall a number of times you have in the past and you’re even thinking about it now, leaving without coming to terms with your feelings or figuring out if Boothill reciprocates them.

“I’m not—” Not running away? Not going to tell him? Not ready to tell him? You huff out a sigh, one that’s a mixture of frustration and confusion. “Not now, Meg.”

“That’s fine,” she assures you, her voice soft. “I just don’t want you to regret anything.”

“I know.” You nod even though she can’t see you.

She’s right. You’ll regret it if you don’t say anything, if you go home without facing your feelings head-on. The what ifs and what could have beens will follow you there, mercilessly haunting your mind.

“It’s getting late,” you tell Meg, “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

“Sure,” she hums. There’s a brief pause like she wants to say more but she settles on, “Good night.”

“G’night.” You pull your phone away to end the call and toss the device on the other end of the couch. You should go upstairs and get in bed like you planned to but all these thoughts so fresh in your head make you feel like falling asleep won’t come easy tonight. Slumping against the arm on the couch, you let out a groan, one quiet enough to not wake your grandpa and Boothill upstairs but loud enough to grant you the slightest bit of relief.

Though, the sound is cut off by another. It comes from the kitchen and you sit up to peer over the back of the couch to see if you’re hearing things—you’d prefer it that way. Your fantasy comes to an end when you see Boothill standing at the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and closing the door once he’s finished.

He meets your gaze and shoots you a smile before uncapping the water and taking a few gulps. It’s strange seeing him at this hour; he usually sleeps early so he can wake up with the sun. You rarely ever see him wearing anything but his jeans and his top of choice but the look is traded in for pajamas now—if you can call nothing but a pair of boxers pajamas.

You gasp at the sight and turn around. He just wanders around the house half-naked? Carelessly risks running into you while wearing nothing but his underwear? You might not have heard him but he certainly must have seen you stretched out on the couch or at the very least heard you talking to Meg on the phone.

The call.

You quickly turn around to face him once more.

“How long have you been there?” The question comes out rushed but you’re frantic to know if he was around to hear you talking about him.

He shrugs and swallows, setting his bottle on the counter before leaning against it. “I don’t know. Long enough to hear you’re having some boy troubles.”

The confession makes your heart jump into your throat. You choose not to expand on it, instead reprimanding him for eavesdropping. “It’s rude to listen in on conversations you aren’t part of.”

“My apologies.” He raises his hands in mock surrender. “I just didn’t wanna interrupt.”

You stare him down in an attempt to read his expression and the look in his eyes. His perpetual smile is in place like usual but nothing else about his countenance seems knowing. He’s either very good at hiding it or he didn’t pick up on the fact that he was the one you were talking about.

“Want some advice?” Boothill speaks up, tilting his head in a question of its own.

You look at him for a second before a laugh bubbles up from your chest, permeating the air. Boothill’s smile slowly falls and that’s the last you see of him before turning your back to him. It seems a little more polite to laugh at him if it isn’t in his face.

He doesn’t stay at his place in the kitchen, feet carrying him to the back of the couch. You’re still giggling when he gets there. He’s never heard you laugh like this before—not at anything he’s said or done. As captivated as he is by the sound, he’s a touch more curious as to what brought it about. A cushion in between you, he leans over the back of the couch to ask, “What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry.” You try to clear the humor from your voice but it lingers with your explanation. You turn your head to look boothill in the eye. “It’s just—what do you know about problems of the male variety?”

“Hello?” He straightens up and gestures to himself and it’s only then that you remember how…undressed he is. That’s enough to sober you up from your humor. “You’re looking at a man, sweetheart.”

You don’t need him to tell you that—you’re more than aware of that. You just meant that he doesn’t seem like the type to help people out of romantic hardships, rather, he’s the one who causes them. Strangely enough, though, you consider hearing his perspective. After all, he is the subject of your “boy troubles” as Boothill called them.

“So, how about it?” He rounds the couch and plops down on it beside you, leaving a safe amount of space between the two of you. You hold his gaze, light gray irises glowing like stars in the darkness of the living room. “Wanna hear my opinion?”

Your heart rate quickens and you can’t tell why. Because he’s this close to you and practically naked? Because those gray eyes are boring into you, urging you to hear him out? Because his advice could be the courage you need to admit your feelings or the very deterrent to keep you from doing so? 

Maybe you aren’t quite brave enough to spill your guts yet but it’s time for you to stop being so scared of the what ifs. “Okay, go for it.”

That seems to be the answer boothill was looking for, if his growing smile is any evidence. He doesn’t waste any time sharing his insight. “I say throw caution to the wind, tell him how you feel. And if he doesn’t feel the same way, well then, that’s his loss. Because you, darlin’, are a catch. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

You know Boothill isn’t one to sugarcoat his words. Every word he says, he means. Is that the case here, too? Any man would be lucky to have you—would he feel the same if that man was him?

“I'm headin’ to bed.” He groans as he stands up, stretching his arms above his head, mouth falling open in a yawn. You watch him silently, pondering his words. He doesn’t comment on your silence, doesn’t bother to tease you about your staring. All he does is offer you a wink before telling you, “Sweet dreams.”

Just as quietly as he appeared, he’s gone.

You let out a shaky breath that you didn’t know you were holding. Instead of following Boothill’s lead and going to sleep, you rest your head on the arm of the couch and turn your eyes up to the ceiling. Your heart is still beating wildly against your rib cage but it’s not bad nerves this time around, it’s anticipation.

Courage it is.

sua here ( ≧ᗜ≦) thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[angelasscribbles]

Personal Update April 2025

Hey guys. It’s been so long since I’ve done a true update. I haven’t posted much at all in 2025 and there are a lot of reasons for that.

Tag list clean up is coming next, just FYI.

I’m not sure what, exactly, was the final straw that pushed me away from Tumblr. Drama, declining readership, real life demands. Probably a bit of all of the above.

September 2024 my sister was dx with terminal cancer. November 2024 a convicted felon took the White House. I have people I love that are part of vulnerable communities, and that’s all I want to say about that here.

I had a rough time, emotionally, for the last six months or so. Add in my own dx with a chronic illness, my kids overwhelming volleyball schedule, rescuing a puppy, etc. I was honestly just exhausted. My entire family has been sick (and I mean, out of it, can’t sit up for days sick) four times since Thanksgiving.

I lost my sister last month. The state I live in is trying to make it illegal for people I love to exist.

And wow, that sounds like a litany of poor me. It’s not. It’s simply what the last six, nearly seven, months have been like. That’s over half a year. When I look at it like that… no wonder I’ve been MIA in a lot of areas of my life.

The good news is that my neurodivergent brain just decided, for whatever reason, to unvapor lock.

My birthday was two days ago, and it was a good one. Despite the last six months, I had fun. I smiled. I laughed. I relaxed. There was ice cream and singing from friends. A campfire and s’mores at home. My husband cooked my favorite steak tacos.

I don’t know. I just feel like I received permission to start living again. To feel joy again.

Earlier this week, I randomly completed a 1200 word one shot and have over 2000 words on another (completely unrelated to the first). And so many ideas, I can’t reign them in. Just like old times lol.

It feels good. Writing feels… joyous to me.

That’s not saying I will ever return to posting two to three chapters a week again. I have other writing projects going on that will never be posted here. In a lot of ways, I have outgrown Tumblr. But TRR will always have a special place in my heart.

So even as I refocus my writing energy on original fiction, I imagine that the one shots and the open ended series I have created will continue to intrude upon my consciousness and demand to be written. And they shall be.

I'm not leaving. I intend to post more than I have been in the last six months, but not as much I was posting two years ago.

I am so close to finishing both Law’s End and Savage Love, I can taste it.

My asks are currently closed because I have a backlog of asks already. I make no promises about any of those. That said, my inbox is always open if you just want to say hi.

Tagging under the cut.

@walkerdrakewalker @kingliam2019 @twinkleallnight  @secretaryunpaid

@karahalloway, @harleybeaumont @alj4890 @aussiegurl1234 @nestledonthaveone

@lovingchoices14  @bascmve01

 @tessa-liam @queen-arabella-of-cordonia

@emersyn-in-cordonia @indiacater @mattiematt1234

@twinkle-320 @tinkie1973

@differenttyphoonwerewolf  @jared2612  @belencha77 @gabesmommie1130

@irishgrl2022 @queenmiarys

@kristinamae093 @sillydg @bebepac

@3pawandme @dcbbw  @amandablink

@phoenixrising0308 @lunaseasblog  

@hollygirl1269 @mainstreetreader @ohmyeightpastlives  

@gardeningourmet @21-wishes @73geenalove @jennieausten

@princessleac1  @kachrisberry @tornbetween2loves @fangirling12566  @pinklipsandmasonjars @savannahdix

[chrystal-ink]

Okay, so first off, the hedgehog harem prologue? Amazing! Loved it and looking forward to how this progresses. I couldn’t help but notice something…

Now this is about Tower who I assume is Boom!Shadow (if I’m wrong, please correct me I did the best I could keeping track of which one was which). If I have that correct…

I find it hilarious that the most aggressive Shadow fell for y/n the quickest 😂 (original Shadow excluded, obviously). Didn’t even have anything done for him like the others and yet he’s already hooked.

Btw, love your take on Lancelot and his lack of modern day knowledge, especially birth control!😂😂😂 he’s going to view so many things as some sort of magic or witchcraft 😅. Go easy on the poor guy, he at least has the excuse of not knowing any better.

Thank you so much for enjoying it! I really appreciate it! So sorry for taking so long to reply I’ve been sick and haven’t felt up to writing or doing much of anything this past week but I’m finally starting to feel better and I’m getting back into the swing of things.

Yes Tower is Boom Shadow sorry I probably should have added that in as a note I’ll put a list of who’s who just in case.

X shadow = Edge ❌

Boom Shadow = Tower 💥

Movie Shadow = Dual 🎬

06 Shadow = Six 6️⃣

Lancelot = Lancelot ⚔️

And OG Shadow will just be referred to as Shadow

Shadow in boom is so funny to me because of all his adaptations he is kinda the most asshole of them all (and I mean that in a loving way). He gives off a very “I like this therefore it is my whole world” vibe.

He’s also very set in his ways once he makes a decision he sticks with it, I think that once OG brought up the topic of being in a romantic relationship his interest was piqued, because he very much looks down on others he had high expectations for Y/N all of which were met pretty much from the beginning before reader opens their mouth.

Now don’t get me wrong the love that boom feels at this moment in the story is very superficial, he has a lot to learn and his romance style is going to be the most immature starting out but as we progress there’s going to be a lot of self reflecting not only in boom but in the others as well. The therapy sessions are actually going to come into play in some fun and interesting ways that I hope to make really good like I’m kinda nervous writing it out in a way that makes sense.

Don’t worry about Lancelot I won’t make him suffer too much lol (maybe just a little). In part one I was going to add a part about the Shadows teaching Lancelot about indoor plumbing but I decided against it because it was making an already long chapter even longer and it also didn’t add anything to the story.

I might do some little side blurbs about the Shadows living together without Y/N being directly involved or even mentioned because frankly the concept of six different Shadows living together could be a whole fic in itself. but that’s only if I find the time. I’m going to be super busy in May to the point where I’ll be lucky to get one or two fics out.

But as for Lancelot he’s definitely the one I’ve had the most fun writing for. I also have the most ideas for him that I’m excited to write about (sword fighting lessons anyone?). But all in all I plan on giving each of the shadows some well deserved love, So long as they don’t break anything lol.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

max once again for 🪽

i am no longer intrigued i am enamoured, this is soo fun to me

hehehe this is an important 1K

---

Chris is growing up. He’s more self-conscious than he’s ever been; that just comes with that age. If he’s too nervous to say something in front of his dad, that’s fine. Eddie can take a lap around the cemetery.

Of course, his lap isn’t alone. Buck appears beside him, he links his arm with Eddie’s. If anyone sees Eddie, it’ll just look like he’s awkwardly holding out his elbow. But it’s a quiet day. No one else is around. 

“You okay?” Buck asks him.

“Yeah,” Eddie says quietly. He tries to speak while moving his mouth as little as possible. “Just… Worry for him, you know?”

Buck nods. “I bet. But you’re doing a great job with a really tough circumstance.”

“Thank you,” Eddie whispers. It doesn’t escape him, how close that could have come to not being true, if Buck hadn’t intervened over that Shannon lookalike. 

“Hey, uh… I’m not here, right?” Buck asks.

Eddie frowns. He has no idea what he means.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Like, in this cemetery,” Buck clarifies. “You said Bobby visits me, so I must be buried somewhere. But probably not this one, or you’d have shown me at some point.”

Eddie’s whole body goes cold. He stops walking. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. How could they have gotten this so wrong?

“Buck,” Eddie asks cautiously. “Do you think you’re… Do you think you’re dead?”

Buck steps away from Eddie.

“I am dead, Eddie,” Buck says. “You… You were there. I died.”

Holy fuck.

“No,” Eddie shakes his head. “No, you didn’t. Buck… You’re alive.”

Buck shakes his head. “No.”

“Yes,” Eddie argues. “You haven’t died. You’re not buried anywhere.”

“You said you were sorry about what happened,” Buck says. “You said Bobby visits me.”

“I am. He does,” Eddie says, feeling sick. “Buck, you’re… You’re brain dead.” 

“Brain dead?” Buck whispers. 

“Or… I don’t know exactly. It was weird. It was inconclusive because of some abnormalities, but… But brain death was…” Eddie huffs. “It was the most likely case. The doctors suggested they pull you from life support.”

“But I haven’t been?” Buck asks. “In five years?” 

Eddie shakes his head. “Your parents… There was a legal dispute about it between them and Maddie. They won.”

“I don’t want that,” Buck says. “I don’t want to be kept alive… Where… Where am I?”

“A facility in Pasadena,” Eddie says quietly. 

“Pasadena,” Buck repeats. “Oh my god. Oh my god, Eddie, I’m just… I’m just…”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie exhales. His hands are shaking. “I thought you knew.”

“Why would they do that to me, Eddie?” Buck begs. “Why? They don’t even love me.”

And Eddie swears he feels his heart crack. 

“Buck, I… I wish I had the answers.”

“I can’t… I…” Buck looks like he’d be hyperventilating if he needed to breathe. “I need to-”

But before he can finish the sentence, Buck disappears.

🪽

Eddie can’t find him.

Hours pass, and Buck never reappears. He’s not in the cemetery. He’s not at home. He’s nowhere. 

Eddie feels like he’s losing his mind. He feels frantic. Desperate. There’s nothing he can do. He doesn’t know where Buck goes when he’s not with Eddie. He doesn’t know how to summon him without putting himself in danger. And he doesn’t know if, by revealing the truth, he destroyed Buck somehow. What if Eddie ruined his connection with the only person who really knows him? With the only romantic partner who he’s really, purely loved, with no complications? 

What has Eddie done?

ix.

A day passes and Eddie doesn’t see Buck again. He feels utterly distraught. Unfocused. Glum. He misses him so bad it’s a physical ache. 

Work doesn’t help. Nothing helps. In fact, work just makes things worse. They have this new captain, who replaced Bobby in the wake of what was apparently a misguided resignation before his heart attack. He was struggling. In a dark place. He made the wrong call, and is trying to undo it. But for now, they’re dealing with Gerrard. A man who feels comically like a villain, except it’s far less comical when Hen and Chim explain his history of racist discrimination. 

So work doesn’t make anything better at all.

Eddie isn’t the only person who seems off. Chim is in a bad mood. Cranky, honestly. It takes a few hours into the shift before Eddie, Hen, and Ravi hear why. 

“Buck nearly died yesterday,” he tells them.

Eddie goes completely rigid. “Wh-what?”

“Yeah,” Chim sighs. “Maddie’s been beside herself. It’s like… This is always there, hanging over her.”

“I’m so sorry, Chim,” Hen frowns.

“What happened?” Eddie presses.

Everyone looks surprised at his intensity. 

“Uh, we don’t really know,” Chim says. “They’re bringing in some fancy neurologist from the UK to consult, apparently.”

“Wow,” Ravi says. “That serious?”

Chim nods. “Ever since his accident, he’s had these weird, random spikes of neurological activity. They’re unexplained and… And well, indicate some sort of complication with his brain death. It happened again yesterday morning, but unlike anything they’ve seen before.”

“Yesterday morning?” Eddie practically croaks. He sounds sickly. He feels worse.

“Yeah,” Chim nods.

So… So right when Eddie told him he wasn’t totally dead. Right when he disappeared. 

“His vitals went crazy, I guess,” Chim says. “I don’t understand it, but he flatlined. And because of the Buckleys…”

“They had to resuscitate him,” Hen sighs. 

“Yeah,” Chim says. “That could have been it, you know? For him and for Maddie. For Bobby.” 

[ladyloveandjustice]

Winter 2025 Anime Overview: From Bureaucrat to Villainess: Dad’s Been Reincarnated!

From Bureaucrat to Villainess: Dad’s Been Reincarnated!

Premise: Kenzaburo is a middle-aged otaku dad to an otaku daughter, and she plays an otome game in the living room a lot, so he’s vaguely familiar with it. Then one day he finds himself in the world of the game, and he’s turned into the game’s villainess, Grace. He decides he’ll play his role as villainess well and give the main character, Anna, a chance to shine! But unfortunately for him, he just can’t help giving wholesome fatherly advice and encouragement, so all the characters love him.

Sometimes you just want a sweet, wholesome show where people are nice and dads are good. While it may not have super deep characters or a fascinating plot, and it’s more cute than laugh out loud funny (though there is that amazing credit sequence), Dad’s Been Reincarnated fills that need well. It has a fun gimmick and a unique twist on a villainess isekai. There’s a lot of annoying or gross things the show could have done that it neatly avoids—Kenzaburo barely comments on the fact he’s turned into a woman, instead just being pleased with how his eyes are better and his body is less achey. He also never makes fun of or thinks less of otome games and "girly" media, instead just respecting it and committing to following the story.

The main joke of the story is our main character is a good dad and thinks of all the characters as children he’s proud of and wants to nurture, so he’s just not that great at being a villainess. In fact he's accidentally so kind and supportive, it makes Anna adore him more than anyone else. Now she’s not particularly interested in any of the male love interests she’s “supposed” to end up with and wants to spend all her time with “Lady Grace”, and all the boys are so impressed with "Grace", he's inadvertently taken over the main character role. Despite the fact he keeps trying to set Anna up with one of the love interests so he can complete her route, everyone just sees how he's supported Anna and their affection levels up.

Another cool and fun little element is that we check in on his wife and daughter in “our” world a lot. Both of them are otaku just like he is, and they’re fully aware Dad’s been transported into the game (he’s in a coma rather than dead like most isekai protags, and his fam figures he’ll come back when the game is finished). So they're actually playing the game to move him along and witnessing his struggles. They’re both fun characters, and it’s sweet to see them nerd out together. Also Mom has actual good taste in isekai, and even reminds her daughter about the earlier female-oriented isekai anime that predate the current isekai stories!

Seeing a Twelve Kingdoms reference in a modern show is incredible. I was so happy. I also realize being into the same stuff Mom is probably reflects how I'm aging (though to be fair, I did get interested in these media many years after they first released).

Incredibly, this anime even manages to do a weight loss storyline and not be terribly offensive, which is an actual feat for anime. Anna gains some weight and decides to go on a diet, and Kenzo is actually against it and a little worried. He has to hold his tongue on giving her fatherly advice (some of it misguided even if it's well intended like “a lot of boys like girls with meat on their bones” and some very good and accurate like “it’s dangerous to diet when you’re young and you don’t need to anyway”) because he remembers how it annoyed his daughter when she was teenager. Instead, he reminds her to be careful because it’s not worth putting her health in danger, and then soliloquies that it makes him so happy to see how much she enjoys her meals, which convinces Anna to eat the same amount but exercise more. It also does a crossdressing play and isn’t offensive about it.

It's truly a show with a good heart, and while it’s sometimes thin on plot and formulaic—it's not gonna blow your socks off—it can be soothing to experience that. It’s not a complete story though, the ending episode even introduces a lot of ongoing plot elements. The implication that the real Grace was more complex and compassionate than she let on, and that she might still exist and be trapped somewhere, is genuinely very intriguing but the show only makes a few brief references to this possibility.

I don’t know if we’ll get a second season that furthers these storylines, but I definitely wouldn’t mind one!

[year2000electronics]

I think you should regale us with your thoughts on the addisons

THE ADDISONS! i like them a lot. i don't think i need to reinvent the wheel much though and claim that i have my own totally unique avant garde nouveau interpretation. i think people have done a really good job over the years of extrapolating what little dialogue we have of the addisons to think up some character traits The Addisons may have as a group of, say, five entities. one for each colour we see.

speaking of them as a group:

i headcanon them as a group of coworkers rather than siblings!

i prefer a more humanoid look for the addisons (given my track record) and i like it when people make them luminous/glowing. its fun!

i give them little cheek marks for fun. ive been calling them addison cutie marks

i'm of the belief that spamton was one of the orange addison's mannequins brought to life, and that's why he's so short/gains more doll features later on- his inherent differences are invisible at first (i draw him with very faint mouth lines and a far dimmer glow than the others as well as with no cheek marks) but the further he slips, the more they slip out. it makes sense to me because as a spam email he's inherently more malicious/less desirable than regular ads and it isn't until he slips through the cracks that he stops being able to mask as a regular addison

(yeah im drawing a bit from neurodivergence here. "for some reason he's different from us" being echoed by the addisons and nobody can really see why until it gets so bad that spamton's different traits have no choice but to bleed through because he's going through a total meltdown)

pink:

diva. catty diva. ambitious to a fault- a lot like spamton

based on the fact that pink is the one to have the lines that outright imply jealousy towards spamton when he got big, and also the fact that pink is the one who offers kris and noelle the freeze ring

he and spamton had a homoerotic rivalry where they were always butting heads and annoying each other, even including picking up stock of two rings nobody wants, but pink doesn't realize how much he really liked spamton until spamton's gone

but at that point he and the others had already walked away from him. it'd be a blow to his pride to ever reach out. not his fault spamton went wrong anyways. he made his choice

blue:

bleeding heart. bit of a pushover. kind but that kindness won't kick in until it's too late

based on the fact that his role is one that literally gives people stuff for free (free samples) and the fact that a blue addison is given the lines about going back to check in on spamton after everything's said and done

enjoyed spamton's company and worried about him but he was never able to grow a spine and make things his problem until it was too late. he's a bystander and that's the problem

tended to coddle spamton a little bit

orange:

the one who introduced spamton to the others, cos obviously i think it was HIS mannequin

the addison with the biggest ideas and the biggest quirks

if pink has spamton's ambition, orange has the same outspoken eagerness spamton does

fashion mogul (is the one with the mannequins!)

treated spamton as a bit of a "mini-me" because of being the one to find him, but that meant he never really saw spamton as being able to be on the same level as him

probably shied away from even thinking of spamton because he thinks "well HE messed up but that would never happen to ME". self recognition through the other (derogatory) basically

takes the biggest risks (aside from spamton) so he's about middle of the road in terms of profits cos he gains and loses a lot

yellow:

quiet, a bit distant, more businesslike

based on the fact that the yellow addison can only be seen from behind in the trash dump after spamton neo is defeated. perhaps he's more on the managerial side of things? or in even higher company than the city?

the one who most openly views spamton as a level below the rest of them thanks to his failing profits

still, he tries to rein in the others like pink from trying to push him down. wanted to see spamton prove himself once and for all

saw spamton's fall and disappearance as being unable to make it in the business world once and for all. that's showbiz, baby.

tl;dr:

[slexenskee]

What Moon Songs (Do you sing your babies)

Sorry I've dissappeared off the face of the earth I'm crawling my way out of the abyss 😭 to make up for it here's 10 google doc pages of the GojoxHawks mpreg AU

(this is AU after the first few chapters of FLW)

//

It’s only afterwards— months afterwards, that he realizes the full extent of his own stupid actions. 

So many things had to perfectly align in exactly the wrong way for this to happen. But each and every one of them was his own damn fault, so there’s really no one to blame here but himself. 

It had to have happened when Hawks had been sick and recovering in his hotel room, that’s the only way the timing lines up. Gojo has always been good about practicing safe sex— considering how he sleeps around, he sort of has to— and has never slipped up even once… until Hawks. Multiple times, actually, not even counting the time he was sick. There’d also been that time in Palawan, when he hadn’t brought any condoms with him because he’d honestly thought he wouldn’t need them. That had been rather profoundly short sighted of him, in hindsight. And then of course there were the time(s) when Hawks was staying in his hotel room, when they couldn’t keep their hands off each other and once again Gojo hadn’t thought to go out and buy any condoms because he’d genuinely thought he wouldn’t need any. Hawks had been sick! Basically delirious! How was he supposed to know that the moment he’d recovered enough he’d jump him? And on a related note, how was Gojo supposed to summon up enough willpower to stop him? 

To that point— how was Gojo even supposed to know he should stop him?

That too, though, is entirely his fault.

Apparently it’s a regular part of sex-ed during middle school— except Gojo never went to class in middle school, so he’d entirely missed the memo. With the advent of quirks came a rare genetic mutation that allows for male pregnancies among a small subset of the population. Rare, but not entirely unheard of, either. It was certainly common enough for a segment to be taught in public schools, and testing to be done as part of the gamut of health checks most kids go through around puberty. Most kids aside from Gojo, who was out terrorizing organized crime syndicates just for fun at that age. 

Yeah, he’s a fucking idiot. This entire situation was so laughably avoidable, and yet he’d managed to end up in it anyway. 

Anyway so now he’s having an existential meltdown in the middle of his still unfinished bathroom, staring numbly at the flecks of grout still flaking off the new tile, wondering what the fuck he’s supposed to do now.

“Satoruuu,” a voice whines from the other side of the bathroom door. “I need to pee.”

Gojo scrambles to his feet, binning the evidence of all the pregnancy tests and burying it under a cloud of toilet paper just before he wrenches the door open, smile fixed in place. “Sorry Eri-chan! I was spacing out.”

Eri just takes the excuse at face value, bounding into the only current usable bathroom in the house and shutting the door behind her.

Gojo sighs wearily, slumping against the wall just outside the door.

Alright, first on the agenda is finding a temporary residence for them while he gets an army of contractors to fix the worst of the ‘home improvement’ sins he’s committed upon this house as quickly as possible. He’d originally thought redoing the rooms would be a fun bonding activity for him and Eri, but now he knows all those chemicals will be bad for… for the baby, so that’s probably a bad idea now. He’s also going to need this house in livable condition as fast as he can make it happen, because apparently… there’s going to be a baby here in less than six months. 

He’s also going to need a doctor, and a very good and discreet one at that. From what he’s read in his mad frenzy of online searching, male pregnancies are very high risk. He’s not at all worried for himself, seeing as though he can heal from just about anything, but that same protection doesn’t extend to the other person currently taking up roost inside him. He frowns. Or does it? Wouldn’t his reversed-curse technique still work on them when they’re still a parasite leeching off of his body? When exactly does their cursed energy start to deviate from each others to the point he can no longer heal them as an extension of himself? Man, what he wouldn’t give for a conversation with Shoko right now.

He can worry about things like clothes and furniture and baby food after he’s settled the most immediate concerns on his list. Namely, fixing this house and finding a doctor. And telling Eri, although he doubts that will be much of an issue. The girl will be beyond excited to be an older sibling.

Now as for telling his family and telling Hawks…

Gojo winces.

Yeah, okay. It says a lot that he’d rather tell Endeavor, to his face, that he’s getting another grandchild than fessing up to Hawks about carrying his kid. Even the thought of it is going to give him a stress tumor.

Well, stress is bad for babies, right? So maybe he should just table the thought for later. You know, for his health.

At any rate there are a lot of things he could have done differently to stop himself from getting in this situation, and plenty more he could have done to salvage it had he known about it. 

As it stands, mulling in his own regrets isn’t going to help anyone, least of all himself. 

All he can do now is try to find a viable path forward… whatever that may be. 

“All done,” Eri announces as she closes the bathroom door behind her, sounding inordinately proud of herself. “I washed my hands.” 

Gojo huffs out a laugh under his breath. 

She’s so adorably precocious. With the way she quietly longs for a loving home and family, she’ll be ecstatic to hear she’ll get the chance to be an older sister. She already bosses Meow around like he’s a little brother, and has a troop of stuffed animals she often pretends are her baby siblings. Between living with him and starting a life outside of the traumatic confines of the Shie Hassakai, bringing a new kid into the mix will be a lot on a little girl. But Gojo doesn’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing; the change will be good for her, and help her focus on things to look forward to. 

“Good job, Eri-chan.” He reaches down to ruffle her hair. 

It feels sort of silly to praise someone for using the bathroom and washing their hands properly afterwards, but Fuyumi had told him these kinds of habits are good to ingrain at this age. And at least he never had to worry about teaching her how to use the bathroom in the first place.

He internally winces at the thought. 

At almost six years-old, Eri is fairly self-sufficient. She can’t be left alone in the house, and needs supervision for things like bathtubs and cutting up her own food, but he doesn’t have to worry about her accidentally rolling over and suffocating herself, or falling down the stairs and breaking her neck. She can use words to express herself well enough, and for the most part can be trusted to sleep through the night by herself without incident. 

A baby… can’t do any of that. From what little he remembers of Fuyumi and Natsuo’s births, they can’t even lift their own heads up. 

And he remembers what it was like, having those two toddlers running about the house. Rei tried her best, and she even had housekeepers and maids to help her, but more often than not Gojo ended up having to figure out what the hell to do with these strange babbling creatures that kept trying to follow him around entirely on his own. It was definitely a trial by fire. He remembers dragging Fuyumi and Natsuo to the park by himself, trying to push Fuyumi on a swing while Natsuo wanted to climb on his back. Natsuo had ended up falling off his shoulders while he was attempting to keep Fuyumi from jumping off the swing. The two year-old Natsuo had, shockingly enough, brushed the fall off after a few seconds blinking up at Gojo waiting to see his own reaction; seconds in which Gojo had swore his heart stopped. He’d thought he’d accidentally broken his little brother’s neck. 

He’d refused to come out of his room, let alone spend unsupervised time with them, for weeks after that. 

Eventually he’d had to come to the startling realization that the little brats were more resilient than he thought, but he wasn’t liable to forget how easy they were to kill by accident. 

He didn’t do a… completely terrible job with them, in hindsight. 

He tends to forget about that time in his life, before he’d started sleeping out of the house more often than he did in it, before Rei started locking herself in her room for weeks at a time. But he’d been there for it, even if he didn’t have to care for his siblings in the manner he eventually would once both Rei and Endeavor were out of the picture. And despite his best efforts, there were times when a toddler would be thrust at him and he’d had to figure out what the hell to do with them without making them cry. 

But he hadn’t wanted to be put in that situation, and he’s not sure if he wants it now, either. 

He’s all for owning up to his own mistakes, but there’s more at stake here than just his own sense of responsibility.

He looks down at Eri, who’s blinking up at him with a curious expression. 

“Say, Eri-chan, you wanna go on an adventure today?” 

She tilts her head. “Adventure?” 

//

His very first instinct is denial. 

After that comes a surge of fear. He’s not ready for a baby. He’s not even ready for kids, despite the fact he currently has one. He’s never been ready— not in this life, or his last. He’d always shoved the thought out of his mind before it could take root. 

But standing in the backyard of the Todoroki house, he feels a strange sense of peace and inevitably overcome him. 

Sure, this was unexpected, but is he truly as unprepared as he thinks he is? 

Fuyumi is taking advantage of the unseasonably warm afternoon to spread a picnic blanket out by the pond and pull out a bunch of old picture books for Eri. She wants to start a scrapbook for Eri, now that she’s going to be part of the family, and the first step in that is apparently going through all of their old photos. Fuyumi is a little sad to see the box is mostly full of unused materials, and the books themselves are almost entirely untouched, but rallies admirably and decides to use the afternoon as an opportunity to finish them. 

This wasn’t what Gojo had intended when he’d dropped by the house to see her, but they seem to be having such a good time that he can’t bring himself to interrupt them.

He ends up sitting with them and going through the photos, feeling a bit overwhelmed by how nostalgic they make him. 

As much as he’d tried to run away from it all at the time, he’d been just as much of a parental figure in Fuyumi and Natsuo’s lives as their own two parents. Not because he’d wanted to fill that role, but simply because there was no one else. And at the time, it hadn’t seemed like that monumental of a responsibility. Gojo wasn’t alone in raising them; Endeavor could be counted on to fund their lifestyle, and there had been a vast array of staff to help with various household chores. There were some days when the cook had time off, and the messes around the house became too big to wait for the weekly cleaning service, and Gojo would step in to fill the gap, but for the most part he didn’t have to worry about little tasks like that. Their basic needs had always been taken care of, so it was only the more… personal duties that he ended up shouldering. 

They didn’t have staff for things like walks to school and back, or help with homework, or bedtime schedules. If Fuyumi needed help in the morning with her shoelaces, or Natsuo threw a tantrum because his favorite soccer ball was missing, Gojo had been the one to fill the missing parental role. He was the one who bought them all slip-on shoes just to bypass the hassle of shoelaces entirely, and he was the one who took Natsuo on an adventure to the nearest Donki to placate him with a brand new soccer ball and several other toys on top of that whenever he had a tantrum. 

At the time he’d just brushed all that off as the bare minimum an older brother (who was actually mentally a full grown adult) should do for their younger siblings, but looking back on it, that was parenting. 

The amount of meltdowns he had to endure was enough to make him shudder. Rei was never any good with handling those to begin with, growing anxious and frustrated the longer Fuyumi or Natsuo spent crying, and as the years passed she stopped trying to handle them at all. Gojo wasn’t any better at it, at first, but he’d learned through practice when to distract them and when to just let them cry it out. He’d learned a lot of childrearing tricks through pure trial and error; how to get them out the door for school on time without any whining or tears; how to entertain them on rainy afternoons; how to get them to brush their teeth and comb their hair before bed; how to pick out clothes the night before school so they weren’t scrambling around and wasting time in the morning. 

In hindsight, that was probably why he had very few issues with Eri. Aside from her trauma-related meltdown at the toy store, he very rarely had any problems with tantrums. 

Looking back on all the photos of his youth, he actually comes to realize… he’s more experienced and prepared than he’d originally thought. 

At this point in his lifetime(s), he’s technically raised two sets of kids— three, if he wants to count Eri. And each time he’s ended up in this situation, he’s gotten better and better at handling it. Sure, in all three of these situations he’d never asked to be put in the position of a parental figure, but that didn’t make it any less true.

He’s stunned to realize that at this point… he probably wouldn’t be all that awful at fatherhood. A damn sight better than either of his own fathers, at the very least. 

“So, I’m assuming you didn’t come all the way out here to reminisce on old photos,” Fuyumi says, after they’ve distracted Eri in the yard with an old bouncy ball. 

Gojo sighs, scratching at the back of his neck. He supposes he ought to just rip the bandaid off. “No, I didn’t. I actually… had a bit of a favor to ask you.” 

“Of me?” Fuyumi asks, looking rather mystified and perplexed, as if the thought of Gojo needing anything— let alone help from his little sister— was so surreal she could scarcely believe it. 

“Yeah.” 

He really hates to do this, but he can swallow his pride when he needs to. And right now, there’s really only one person he can entrust with this. 

“... Can you call Endeavor here for me?”

//

Truly, this child… Endeavor is never going to meet with him without having heart palpitations, is he?

“So,” Touya claps his hands, grinning brightly at him. “Remember when I said I couldn’t have kids? I lied.”

Endeavor staggers into the seat behind him, wondering if he’s having an out of body experience. This can’t be happening. This is… he cannot comprehend this. 

The strongest villain— and hero— on the planet, with the spotlight firmly fixed on his every move, with so many viciously hungry enemies waiting to tear him down on all sides of the law, is really trying to tell him that—

“You’re pregnant?” He repeats, voice high with disbelief.

“Surprise!” Touya cheers. “I’ve got… I think six more months until I have a baby? Give or take a few?”

“We have to start shopping,” Fuyumi gushes at his side, already looking effusively giddy at the thought. “We have to come up with a theme for the room! Not to mention all the clothes and the toys… let’s do something matching with Eri-chan! That’ll be so cute!”

Endeavor stares at her like she’s grown a second head. She’s taking this news without breaking stride. She actually looks pleased about it. She’s excited. There’s a new addition to the family, and a new child to dote on. A baby, no less. An excruciatingly helpless, tiny, little baby…

Endeavor cannot share in her joy at all.

He’s absolutely, unequivocally, terrified. He doesn’t think he’s been this afraid in his entire life. 

Despite all the chaos he regularly kicks up on a daily basis, Touya is a hard person to worry about. He’s too powerful, too in control of his own abilities and the world around him, to ever truly worry about him, no matter what life or death situation he finds himself in. 

And right now, at what is undoubtedly the most dangerous time in his life— he’s also at his most vulnerable. 

The fact that he’s here, coming to Endeavor at all, means he’s well aware of this fact. 

Endeavor sighs heavily. 

He wants to be happy for his eldest son. In a way, he thinks he is. Touya is an excellent older brother to his younger siblings, and already a wonderful father to Eri. He’ll be a wonderful father to this new child, too. And he doesn’t hate the thought of grandchildren. The thought of them throws him into a bit of an existential panic, but he’s hardly against the idea. If anything it’s a good thing, that his children are growing up and having families of their own, that he hasn’t ruined that for them in the same way he’s ruined so much of their lives… 

But it’s hard to be happy for him when, at his core, he only feels fear. 

Todoroki Enji has always been a creature full of fear. Fear of his angry drunk of a father, fear of being abandoned by his mother, fear of her new husband that was even worse than her first. As he grew, that fear quickly turned to anger, anger into hatred and, finally, into suffering. It’s a cycle that, in hindsight, he’s shocked he hadn’t pushed onto his own children. Torn of any outlet to feel anger towards, all he can feel now is fear. 

“No,” he finds himself saying, abruptly cutting Fuyumi off.

Both his children turn to look at him.

“It’s too dangerous,” he says. “We’ll have an assistant procure the necessities. No one can find out about this.”

“But, dad…” Fuyumi starts to protest.

He shakes his head adamantly. “This is a very dangerous situation, Fuyumi. You may be a private citizen, but you are well known as my daughter. Even that is worrisome, but if anyone was to connect you to Touya…”

Touya tilts his head at him, expression impossible to read. “You think I’ll be putting her in danger?”

“I think you’re putting yourself in danger.” Endeavor shakes his head. “Touya, this is… your situation is already precarious, and for the next few months, you’ll be at your most vulnerable. The media is already hunting for any information they can find on you, to say nothing of law enforcement and the government. You cannot have word of this getting out.”

Touya just raises a brow. “Are you trying to tell me what to do, old man?”

“No!” Endeavor denies, loudly, scared that his eldest will dismiss his concerns out of hand simply because they’re coming from him. 

He knows he’s never had a good relationship with his eldest son. It’s bold of him to assume he ever even had a relationship with him, at all. Touya has never wanted his advice, even as a child. As an adult, he probably wants it even less. 

“No,” he says, softer this time, closing his eyes. “I know I have no right to tell you what to do— just as you have no reason to ever heed my advice. But if I can offer you any bit of wisdom from my own experience having children in the spotlight, let it be this.”

He all but deflates in his seat, opening his eyes. He’s surprised to see Touya isn’t leaping for his throat at the very thought of his worthless father attempting to lecture him in any capacity. But Touya has always surprised him at every turn, so perhaps he shouldn’t be so shocked. If anything, Touya seems rather willing to hear him out, sitting placidly across from him.

He meets that unyielding, crystalline gaze with a solemn expression. “Your mother went to all her prenatal appointments under a false name,” he starts, slowly. “The doctor was aware of her true identity, but I avoided going there in person.”

That was, in truth, both a precaution and a personal choice. He’s ashamed to say he wouldn’t have wanted to go in the first place, and the security the anonymity gave her was simply a convenient excuse. 

“I can vouch for the security of Mustafu General,” he continues. “Almost every hero in the area uses them, and their discretion is top-notch.” 

He rubs warily at his forehead.

If he’d thought having children as the Number Two Hero was a liability, he cannot even fathom what it will be like for Touya. Rei was a civilian, and the secretive nature of their marriage made her easy to slip under the radar. His face and name may have been known unanimously across the country, but hers had not. But Touya was not only in a physically vulnerable position, he was also the one in the spotlight. And if the father is who he thinks it is…

He clears his throat, awkwardly. “May I ask who the father is?”

Fuyumi looks tentatively towards Touya, brow creasing. Touya doesn’t even bat an eyelash as he says, blandly, “No.” 

Endeavor nods. He’d expected that response. Touya has no reason to confide in him. 

“... Touya,” Fuyumi starts, hesitantly. “Do you think it might be… better to tell him?”

Touya shakes his head. “No, I don’t,” he says. He stares Endeavor down in a way that’s rather pointed as he adds, slowly; “I think, for everyone’s sake, it’s best if that’s left to interpretation. Plausible deniability, and all that.”

Endeavor swallows down the dry lump in his throat. 

Yes, Touya is right. It’s best if he doesn’t have definitive confirmation on who the father is. Nonetheless it’s a damning thing to say. Does Touya not trust Hawks? Perhaps. But more than likely, Touya does not trust who Hawks works for. Even now, the HPSC is maintaining a worrying, awful silence when it comes to International Pro Hero Six Eyes. And Endeavor, as a hero licensed under their jurisdiction, is just as beholden to them. If they come asking, for whatever reason, it’s better for everyone if he has nothing to tell them.

“Touya is right,” he agrees, voice grave. “The less people who know the truth, the better. Myself included.”

Fuyumi purses her lips, but says nothing else.

[muletia]

I just rewatched The Sea Beast on Netflix (which if you haven't seen it HIGHLY RECOMMEND!! It's basically HTTYD vibes but with sea monsters) and it got me thinking about mer shark breakdown

Sharks have a bad rep cuz while there have been shark attacks on humans, for the most part sharks aren’t aggressive towards humans and would rather feed on marine life. Something that apparently happens is “mistaken identity” where a shark will mistake a human for a natural prey. Basically shark attacks are actually pretty rare in the grand scheme of things.

Imagine Merformer Breakdown, as a blue shark mermaid, has had if rough with humans. Even when he isn’t doing anything human sailors or hunters still try to harpoon him. Thankfully cuz breakdown is a big lad he’s able to sink most ships pretty easily, but imagine one day when Knockout, Breakdown and you are all chilling you notice harpoons sticking out of Breakdown’s tail. Since Breakdown would probably be a LOT bigger than Knockout, and probably rightfully cautious about people, at first he gives a low warning growl to you approaching- and then out right shrieks when you manage to pull a harpoon out of his side

Breakdown snarls at you as you quickly toss away the harpoon, hoping to god this giant shark merform isn’t going to eat you. But then Breakdown realises how…nicer it feels to have the harpoon out, it had been bugging him for weeks. So, he settles, still letting out sudden, sharp growls when you pull more harpoons out of him, but by the time you’re done Breakdown is mentally swearing up and down that he will kill for you

Ohhh you just unlocked memories for me with that movie. I think I watched it about two years ago. Really nice and fun film!

Breakdown content let’s gooo

Since I don’t want to separate this canon couple too much, just imagine: the first time Breakdown screeches, Knockout immediately darts toward you, ready to defend his mate. So now you’ve got to somehow convince two pissed-off mers that you’re trying to help, not hurt them (good luck with that). But once they realize you’re actually doing them a favor, they stop with the growling and tooth-showing, and you’re allowed to continue your little spa day.

And not only have you earned the trust and loyalty of a massive shark but now they also feel like they need to repay you somehow. Breakdown is the first to lean down toward you, his huge helm nuzzling your head, and low but sweet chirps slipping from his lips. Then Knockout joins in, with the exact same intention of smothering you in affection.

So now you’re stuck between two needy, clingy mers who have no intention of leaving their sweet little helpful human alone <3

[wrapupbunny]

DILF! YANDERE TROPE! I can't help myself. He seems dashing.

Let's set up the scenerio. Personal perspective because dang it, he's perfect.

The event has gotten dull after some moments, and individuals discuss it with one another. I idly sip my champagne, wondering when it will be appropriate to leave. My 'friend' invited me. It was probably a case of formality rather than a necessity. People would wonder. Unfortunately, I would have done the same.

"Mind if I sit? The other tables are fully occupied." The emphasis perks me, and I turn to the voice.

He's wearing a suit, likely custom from how well it hugs his form. The pair of Oxfords further emphasises him, shiny under the light. The most alluring detail of all are hints of silver that make their way across his hair and slight wrinkles that represented his maturity.

He's visually appealing, to be honest.

"Hm...sure." I respond, and he sits two seats away from me, but close to my eye view. I am right. He's dashing.

"Thanks." He places his drink on the table, observing me. "How's the event so far?" I ask, seemingly lost for words and feeling as though a request to know his name might be too intimate. I'd prefer if he requested mine first.

"It's good. ['F'/N] planned well. It has about everything we would enjoy." He responds, a polite smile on his face which has me reeling. I smile as well, infectious to his. "Yes, I'm sure she's happy to see her guests pleased."

"Hm...what's your name?" He finally asks, a gentle smile still on his face as he leans on the table. I'm flustered beneath his perceptions but answer. "[...]? It's a beautiful name, it suits you." He responds, eyes on my own for a moment before sipping his drink. "I'm [...]."

"[...]. It has a nice ring to it."

We discuss much about the party and snippets of our lives. Unfortunately, someone requests to speak to him, looking at me as well for permission. "This night has been eventful. Thank you for your time, [...]." He says, standing up. "You're welcome, [...]. It was fun." He moves his hand to shake with mine, and I accept.

His hands are larger than mine, and fill me with a second's worth of comfort. "Have a pleasant night, [...]" "You too, [...]"

He leaves, and I check the watch and the event. Some have begun to leave, and it's a sign that it's the perfect time.

Oh, how I wish numbers were exchanged. He probably has a family of his own and conversed for pleasantries. Well, that's the end of that.

What I don't notice is the lingering look he has while I place my phone in my bag and a raw determination to see me once more.

Good thing he's close to multiple sources of information.

Aaah, I want him so bad it's criminal! ((o(^∇^)o))

Yes, I have a thing for older men. (*´∇｀)ﾉ

I was thinking of going with a country perspective, but I love this version. I wanted to add a yandere element to this and to write more, but it's been a while, and I'm rising from my C.AI slump.

Old DILF Yandere, save me, please? (Even if I don't know what to name you.)

Also, I wish I was a bunny hybrid right now...guess my persona.

[thedancingcostumeyoungadult]

Installment - EM

Camp counselor!Eddie Munson x camp counselor!Reader

Part one here

Eddie pays (most of) his debt and Reader has a realization or two

Contents: fem!reader, probably inaccurate depiction of summer camps

Eddie's boot knocks against the step of your cabin with a dull thud, realizing there are very few relaxed and cool ways to hold a pastry box. He shifts it into one hand, then back to the other, his knock goes unanswered for a few agonizing moments. This is a normal thing that coworkers do, coworkers buy and hand deliver pastries all the time, yeah.

The door is yanked open and Eddie stands straighter on instinct, his eyes snapping up to - oh.. not you. Your roommate, Mindy of troupe 2, stares back at him from the other side of the screen door, her eyes flicking from his face to the box and back.

"She's not here." Eddie wants to commend himself for keeping his cool under the knowing and a little bit smug look she fixes him with, her curly ponytail swinging as she cocks her head. "Can I take a message?" Eddie shakes his head.

"No, uh, could you just," He gestures forward with the little cardboard box, "make sure she gets this?" Mindy seems to be in a merciful mood, unlatching the screen door and swinging it open to take the pastry box.

"Sure, Eddie."

"Lover boy went all out." Mindy flops onto her bed as you stare down at the two huge lemon poppyseed muffins sitting primly in their box on the table. You scoff maybe a little too fast at her words.

"No! it's not like that, Eddie's just a friend."

"Riiight, babe," you can hear the pointed look she's sure to be giving you, "a very good friend that took the time to drive aaalll the way into town to the bakery and back on his only morning off this week?" Well when she puts it that way.

You don't reply, your thoughts yanked sharply off track and okay, yeah, you'd be a liar if you said that you'd never snuck an extra glance or two at him or blushed at a flirty comment, but he's like that with everyone right?

Or maybe it might just be time to believe what he's showing you.

Finally, finally, the last bus rolls out of the gravel lot by the main camp building, throwing up a puff of dust that swirls and lingers in the streaks of sunlight through the trees and you heave a sigh, slumping dramatically against the rough wood siding. The first four-week session of the summer is done, and it's just starting to get the real heat of the Indiana summer and the little hairs that have worked themselves loose from your braids stick uncomfortably to the back of your neck even in the shelter of the woods. You make a slightly disgruntled sound. You're running on fumes, all of the counselors are by now, especially because there always were a few campers that just struggled and some that could be mean in that way really only middle schoolers can be no matter how hard you all tried. But you all tried anyway, trying to make these few weeks fun and fulfilling for the campers.

"Your cabin start worshipping a pinecone or just mine?" Eddie stirs you from your thoughts, turning over your shoulder to look at him. He's got his hair pulled back in his camp bandana and his arms crossed, tattoos dotted here and there on his forearms and you can't help but feel a little fluttery in the chest at the sight.

"No, but I heard tell of Zovmos the Great, how'd that go?" He shakes his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets with a shrug the nonchalance of which is completely ruined by the air of pride dripping from him.

"They came up with some messed up shit for the thing's backstory I think I'm gonna have to steal the high points for my next campaign." He follows as you start to make your way back towards the counselor's bunks, setting an easy pace side by side. It's been like this recently, you'd known him last summer but something about the last few weeks had been different, shifting, orbiting closer almost without noticing.

"Anyway," he continues, as casually as possible "you going to the bonfire tonight?" His shoulder brushes yours, probably accidentally but nonetheless sending an electric jolt down your arm. The question feels loaded and you think again to the muffins in their little box.

"Yeah." you miss the way he lights up at your soft reply. By now you've made it to the counselors cabins, smaller and considerably older than the ones for the campers but hung with dozens of trinkets, gods eyes and rubber ducks jostle against wind chimes and sunglasses. No one knows how the tradition started but every counselor chooses one thing to hang on their cabin on the last night, something for the camp to remember them by over the long empty months until the next summer.

"Good." He stops with you at the step to your door and you get the uncanny feeling of being walked home after school and try to ignore the way it made your chest feel when you look up at him. "I'll pick you up at eight." His words catch you off guard, not what you were expecting, and though his tone is light you catch maybe a bit of a waver. Was he hopeful? Or were you hopeful that he was hopeful?

Uncertainties and promising wonders aside, you let a smile rise across your face as you look at him.

"You'd better."

[enjoythesilentworld]

writing tag game!

thank you for the tags @phneltwrites @iwouldnevergetintofanfic @saynomorefic <33

1.How many works do you have on AO3?

23

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

416,618 (though some of these are collabs)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

young royals <3

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

so loaded, eye low aka the Met Gala au <3 i don't even have thoughts on this i just cant believe its almost got 700 kudos like that's crazy. y'all like angsty angry sex huh

just if for a minute aka fake marriage au <33333333333 my Miami idiots

all our words were worth it aka my collection from Simon's month. so many one-shots here that deserved a solo work or continuation but alas i only have two hands

for the tree's sake aka tree boys au aka the fic that started it all.

we sure make things work aka Wille's month. i feel like you can see how much my writing has improved since these, even when you just compare it to Simon's month

5. Do you respond to comments?

i do my very very best to. i have gotten very behind on it but i do read every comment and my heart bursts out of my chest at every single one

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i usually try to give a happy or hopeful ending? maybe Only for Coffee because they're still technically broken up and we don't know what happens after? although I guess also Fright Fest! because they're both still actively bleeding out lmao

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

'just if for a minute' probably? spoilers i guess but they sort their shit out and are literally legally bound together. but like i said i try to give all my Wilmon a happy ending. (for now)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

so far so good! i've been put in jail quite a few times but i think that was all out of love/hate

9. Do you write smut?

haha. yes ✝️

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

no crossover yet :/

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

i dont think so?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

no

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes :) i have three separate collabs with some of the best people (and writers) i know, which is so cool and fun and i love fandom

14. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

anything i publish i have the intention of finishing. i promise i have not forgotten about call ur crush! 💀 i will give y'all ch5 if it kills me

15. What are your writing strengths?

oh lord. i dont know. i've gotten comments about my like, descriptions of the setting? and world building.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

i worry i am a bit repetitive, esp with like metaphors and shit. there's only so many ways I can describe tension, u know?

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

uh. fun? no harm no foul? i think in some fics it matches the vibes, but me personally i dont usually do more than pet names and the occasional 'tack' or 'snälla'. for funsies.

18. First fandom you wrote for?

i believe all my 1d and hp and other rpf has been wiped from existence (thank god) but young royals is the first i've actually posted on ao3 for

19. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Running with Wolves. so much love to all my other fics - special shoutout to ftts for being my first wilmon born - but this crime fic has taken over all my thoughts and i have had so much fun crafting ways to make these boys miserable and to make this world feel real and tangible and dangerous. it's one of my least popular and i literally don't care because.... little lamb.

i think lots of people have done this and or been tagged a million times so here's some more tags for u <3 @pagegirlintraining @willesredlights @hergrandplan @royalwilmon @skibasyndrome