#this was inspired by me not knowing what to say to my supervisor because i haven't done all the work

[starrywangxian]

i do find it very interesting how stede has to be in the field to become a fierce pirate captain, like he has to put in that situation where someone is running at him with a knife or sneaking up behind him with a gun to do anything.

it's almost like he's whim prone or something??? i don't know, many that's too far fetched

[tentacle-therapissed]

I’m so glad the Guillermo Del Toro Pinocchio movie is being received really well, because it was literally my most anticipated movie of the year! So here’s some fun facts about the crew, concept, and production that got me excited about this movie and that I think would excite much of tumblr as well:

-the screenplay was cowritten by Del Toro and Patrick McHale, creator of Over The Garden Wall and a writer on Adventure Time.

-the movie was codirected by Mark Gustasfon, who was the animation director of Wes Anderson’s Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009)

-the primary art/animation designers of this movie (production designer Curt Enderle, art director Robert DeSue, character designer Georgina Hayns, animation supervisor Brian Leif Hansen, and photography director Frank Passingham) previously worked on projects that include Coraline, the Corpse Bride, Paranorman, Isle of Dogs, Frankenweenie, Kubo, and Chicken Run.

-Besides Netflix, it was produced by the Henson company (always a good sign when you’re doing anything with puppets) and ShadowMachine, who have produced a lot of Adult Swim shows including Robot Chicken, Moral Orel, and Tuca and Bertie, as well as the Netflix original BoJack Horseman.

-Del Toro was inspired to make this adaptation due to the similarities he’d always noticed between the original Pinocchio story and Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Both are about a man-made character’s relationship with his father/creator, and his attempts to understand what it means to be human. This inspiration is why the film takes on a gothic feel at times.

-the movie is over 10 years in the making. Del Toro announced the project in 2008 and production began in 2012, but it went into development hell and no further updates were made for several years. Del Toro has described it as his passion project, saying "I've wanted to make this movie for as long as I can remember.”

-the backdrop of Mussolini’s Italy was intended to show how Pinnochio was able to find his own humanity and will in a time where everyone else was acting like a blindly obedient puppet. Del Toro wanted to deviate from the original book’s themes of obeying authority by making his Pinocchio virtuous for questioning the rules and forging his own set of morals. (Also if you know anything about Del Toro, the guy likes to dunk on fascism.)

-Del Toro didn’t feel the need to have Pinocchio become flesh-and-blood at the end of the movie, saying all you need to be a real human is to behave like one.

I was lucky enough to see this movie in 35 mm in a movie theatre on Thanksgiving weekend. If there are any movie theatre showings near you and you’re in a position to be able to attend them, I would totally recommend it especially if you can go with loved ones. It was a gorgeous, heartwarming, and magical movie to experience on a big screen and perfect for the late fall/winter holiday season.

[bestofmultiverse]

Between the pages || 4

Aubrey plaza x fem!reader

"It’s hard to save people from themselves. But if they’re willing to try, it’s worth the risk.”

- Paperweight by Meg Haston

A/N : this part talks about mental health, i don't know if its on triggering level but it was important for me to let yall know.

Got inspired by my trip to the ER today because of anxiety attack that left me feeling like i was literally dying. Im okay, conveniently had a therapy session as well afterwards so had a pretty rough day- but pushing trough it 🤍

I love you guys hope you will like this one x

1 • 2 • 3 • 5

When Aubrey stormed into the ER, she wasn’t sure what she was more furious about: the fact that her girlfriend hadn’t told her she was there or the casually infuriating way she explained it when she finally did.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” her girlfriend had said with a weak shrug, as if chest pain and difficulty breathing were minor inconveniences she could brush off.

“Didn’t want to bother me?” Aubrey had echoed, disbelief flaring in her voice.

The younger woman, seated in one of those awful plastic chairs, simply nodded, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. “It’s not the first time,” she added lightly.

That had nearly sent Aubrey over the edge, but then her anger had crumbled the moment she took in her girlfriend’s slumped posture, the way her hands trembled slightly in her lap. The fight in her drained away, replaced by a deep, aching worry.

Without a word, Aubrey knelt in front of her and wrapped her arms around her tightly. Her girlfriend stiffened for a moment before her shoulders sagged, and tears, born of frustration and weariness, spilled from her tired brown eyes.

“You scared the hell out of me,” Aubrey murmured against her temple, her voice breaking.

“I’m sorry,” came the hoarse reply.

“What did the doctor say?” Aubrey asked after a beat.

“Nothing yet. It’s been two hours since they checked me, so I guess that’s a good sign,” her girlfriend said, trying for humor, but the weak smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Aubrey frowned and brushed a stray strand of hair from her girlfriend’s face. “What made you come in today?”

Her girlfriend hesitated, looking down at her hands. “A coworker noticed I was struggling and told my supervisor. They basically forced me to come.”

Aubrey’s heart clenched at the thought of her being too stubborn—or scared—to seek help on her own. “I’m sorry that happened, baby.”

“It’s not your fault,” her girlfriend said softly, shaking her head.

Aubrey pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Still. I wish you’d told me sooner.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aubrey sighed, her thumb tracing comforting circles over her girlfriend’s hand. “I’m going to talk to the nurse and see what’s going on.”

Her girlfriend grabbed her wrist, her grip surprisingly firm. “Please don’t make a scene. They’re doing their best.”

“I won’t, I promise,” Aubrey said with a small smile. “But I’m not just going to sit here while you suffer.”

She stood and approached the front desk, her patience already worn thin. “Excuse me,” she said, keeping her tone calm but firm. “My girlfriend’s been waiting for two hours with chest pain and trouble breathing. Is there any way to get an update?”

The nurse didn’t even glance up. “It takes time,” she said dismissively.

“I understand that,” Aubrey replied, clenching her jaw. “But is there any way to know how much time?”

Before the nurse could respond, a doctor appeared in the doorway, clipboard in hand. “Y/N?” she called out.

Relief washed over Aubrey as she hurried back to her girlfriend. “Come on,” she said gently, helping her to her feet.

They followed the doctor into an exam room, and Aubrey stayed close, her hand never leaving her girlfriend’s.

“After running several tests, we didn’t find anything concerning,” the doctor began, offering a reassuring smile. “Your heart and lungs are healthy, and your bloodwork came back normal.”

Aubrey’s girlfriend nodded slowly, her expression conflicted.

“So what’s causing this?” Aubrey asked, her tone carefully measured.

The doctor hesitated before answering. “It seems to be psychological—likely a panic attack.”

Aubrey’s girlfriend let out a bitter laugh. “Figures.”

“It’s more common than you think,” the doctor said gently. “There’s nothing physically wrong with you, which is good news. But I’d recommend following up with a therapist to explore potential triggers and coping strategies.”

“Right,” her girlfriend muttered as she stood, grabbing her bag. “So, I’m crazy. Got it.”

“You’re not crazy,” Aubrey said firmly, standing as well and pulling her into a hug. She held her close, one hand cradling the back of her head as her girlfriend let out a shaky breath against her shoulder.

“Thank you, doctor,” Aubrey said softly before leading her girlfriend out of the hospital.

The drive home was quiet, the radio turned off at her girlfriend’s request. When they reached Aubrey’s apartment—a place that had gradually become their shared home—they settled on the couch, the silence stretching between them.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Aubrey asked after a while. “No pressure, but… I’m here.”

Her girlfriend pulled her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them. “It’s just… stuff. Work’s been rough, and… other things too.”

“Other things?” Aubrey prompted gently.

Her girlfriend hesitated. “It started about five months ago.”

Aubrey froze. Five months ago—the same time the media had started dissecting their relationship, plastering their faces across magazines and social media.

Her girlfriend must have noticed the look on her face because she quickly added, “This isn’t your fault, Aubrey. Please don’t think that.”

Aubrey shook her head. “I should’ve protected you from all of that.”

“You couldn’t have. I chose this. I chose you,” her girlfriend said, her voice trembling. “And I’d choose you again. Every time.”

Aubrey pulled her into her arms, kissing her temple. “I’d choose you too. Always.” She paused, stroking her girlfriend’s hair. “But I think we need help—someone who can help us make sense of this.”

Her girlfriend looked up at her, confused.

“I’m talking about therapy,” Aubrey said gently. “For you, if you want it. And maybe for us. Together.”

Her girlfriend frowned. “You think we need couples therapy?”

“I think it’s worth trying,” Aubrey said honestly. “You were scared to tell me what you’ve been going through, and I can’t stop blaming myself for what you’ve been feeling. I don’t want either of us to carry that alone.”

Her girlfriend sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I’ll think about it,” she said quietly.

“That’s all I’m asking,” Aubrey said, kissing her hand.

After a moment, her girlfriend stood. “I need a bath. I feel gross.”

“Want company?” Aubrey offered with a small smile.

Her girlfriend nodded. “Yeah. I don’t want to be alone.”

Aubrey followed her into the bathroom, and they sank into the warm, bubble-filled tub together, with a book of y/n's choice as their worries temporarily melting away in the comfort of each other’s arms.

[oddthumbswetsleeves]

Hiding - Oneshot

Inspired by this post by @crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington <3

“Have you heard from B today?”

Elita-1 looked up from her datapad at her former-incompetent-subordinate turned leader. He looked stressed, or maybe nervous? It was hard to tell ever since he received the matrix.

“No. I haven’t seen him since the last time he messed up putting the supplies in storage.’ She looked back at the forms she was filling out. “He’s probably avoiding us cause he’s embarrassed.

“Embarrassed?” Optimus sounded confused. Elita realised she had neglected to tell the prime about B’s latest incident.

“He put a lot of the supplies he was sorting into the wrong places. I mean, seriously! I gave him possibly the easiest job I could have, and he still messed it up.” Optimus didn’t look like her answer had put him at ease. “He’ll be fine. If he’s embarrassed it might teach him to listen a little more.”

“Just-“ They met optics, “Tell me if you see him, or if you can get through to him. He won’t answer my comms.” He sighed. “I’m worried.”

He definitely looked nervous now.

“Yeah, sure.” Elita went back to reading. Optimus was silent for a moment, as if he wanted to say something else, but left quickly.

Once he was out of audial-range she tried B-127’s comm, certain Optimus was exaggerating. B never missed an opportunity to blabber.

“B”

Nothing

“B-127, respond.”

Still nothing

“B, this isn’t funny. Answer me.”

Silence

Elita never thought she would be able to use that word to describe the yellow bot. She started feeling slightly worried before it was replaced with something else.

How dare he hide away from his duties as an Autobot because he was embarrassed. He wasn’t the only one struggling with his new status. Being the Autobot commander and essentially second-in-command of Cybertron was exhausting. Every moment she wasn’t recharging or refuelling she was working. B was not going to get away with skirting his duties.

She was gonna find him.

Where the frag was he?

Elita had spent nearly half the orn asking around for the little mech. No one had seen him since she had. Not Jazz, not Ratchet, not even Prowl, who was usually aware of all Autobot activity. The other scouts had gibed her about B-127’s unrivalled skills in what they called “Extreme Hide and Seek”.

“If B’s hiding from you there’s no chance you’ll find him” one taunted. Primus, she hated being around the scouts, nosy bunch.

“Wait, why do you think he’s hiding from me?”

“Why else would you be looking for him? He’s told us about how busy you are.” Another one answered.

“Well, you’re not helping!” She stormed off before they could peeve her off more.

Elita was definitely getting hangry, so she decided to stop to get energon before anyone could risk mentioning it to her. Everyone had really been enjoying the abundance of it. The decreasing rations had been affecting the cogless bots hard. She remembered after being transferred to waste management seeing how some of the supervisors were stealing others rations off the delivery lines for themselves. That was one of the first things she fixed, especially since many of the bots on lower levels didn’t leave their stations during their breaks. Mostly the bots on the sub-

The sub-levels

“The best hiding spots are ones that other bots don’t know exist.” B-127 told her that once while he was training to be a scout. He was mostly talking about places that taller bots couldn’t get to, but almost no one knew about the 10 extra sub-levels.

“Scrap”

The elevator rattled more the lower it went. It was also getting noticeably hotter. The doors opened and after stepping out they surprisingly didn’t close behind her. Strange. She didn’t say anything at first, trying to hear any noise that wasn’t coming from the furnace.

She felt isolated.

Even though Elita knew she could contact anyone she wanted instantly, there was just something about the room emanated loneliness, but B had to be here.

She looked around. The room was small, nothing besides the furnace, the conveyor belt, and the trash chute.

Unless…

One of the walls seemed to have a handle, and when she moved it... Another room! She pushed it over.

What on Cybertron?

The walls were lined with multicolour string lights. The room had a table and chairs, but in the chairs were 3 piles of trash. They were kind of bot shaped. She guessed one of these were what “Steve” was, who Orion supposedly killed and D-16 insisted wasn’t real. Primus this guy was weird. Just before she turned away, she saw it. There was something golden-yellow barely poking up from behind the table. Elita had to stop herself from groaning. Some hiding expert he was.

“B” He didn’t move. Elita crossed her arms.

“B-127 I can see you.” He slowly ducked out of view. Elita’s face scrunched up, “Get out here right now or so help me, I will drag you back up to Iacon by your finials.”

The bot cautiously stood up, looking anywhere except her face. Neither one said anything for a few moments. Elita tapped her finger against her arm, making sure B could hear it. He still did not say anything. Elita started feeling nervous again, B didn’t even recharge this quietly. She wouldn’t show it though, he wasn’t getting any pity from her.

“Well?” she prompted.

“Why are you down here?” He asked quietly.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Elita leaned forward, but B still didn’t look up. “Why are you hiding? Do you think I’ll just forget your screw-up if I don’t see you for a few orns?”

“I’m not hiding. You know I’m here now, you can go back to work.” He fidgeted with his servos.

“What, so you can keep sulking here?”

“I’m not sulking.” His voice was low, but a bit rough.

Had he been crying?

“Then why are you down here?”

“You were really mad at me the last time I messed up. You said I was running out of chances.”

“So?” Her gaze steeled. His breath hitched.

Was he going to cry again?

“Well, that’s what supervisors used to say to me before I would get demoted” their optics met, “and you were a supervisor…”

“So, you came down here?” She gripped her arms a bit tighter.

“I’ve never had a boss who was my friend before.” He looked down at his servos, still keeping his voice low. “I just didn’t want to see your face when you decided to give up on me.” Fluid dripped from his optics.

“Give up?” Her voice was suddenly much softer. She cleared her throat. “Why would you think I’d give up on you? We’re friends, you said it yourself.”

“Megatron was Optimus’ friend, and he dropped him to the centre of Cybertron.”

Elita felt a pang in her spark. That might have been the scariest moment of her life, including everything that happened leading up to it. B had been the one to stop her from trying to grab Orion as he plummeted. In the frenzy she might have fallen after him. B had probably saved her life.

She was definitely failing to hide her pity now.

They were both silent for a while, the furnace rumbling softly behind her. Elita sighed and walked around the table. B shrunk under her gaze. This was the first time she had ever felt bad about making a subordinate scared of her. She put her servos on his shoulders, taking care to be gentle, and bent down slightly to be at optic level with the scout.

He was definitely crying.

Elita wrapped her arms around him tightly. He tentatively moved his servos up to her back. She felt him shake.

“Are you not mad at me?” B’s voice quivered. She sighed, squeezing tighter.

“I’m not sure I am anymore.” Letting go to hold his shoulders again. He sniffled and she moved her servos to cup his face. “Why haven’t you answered any comms? Optimus is practically beside himself.”

“I didn’t know you guys were calling me.”

“What?! Is your commlink broken?” She turned his helm to look at his audials. He pulled her servos away from his face. They had tears on them.

“No.” He looked towards the furnace. “I’m pretty sure no signals reach down here from the surface.

Elita’s face scrunched. She turned away, reaching a digit up to her commlink.

“Optimus, come in.”

No response. She swore quietly.

“We’re going back to Iacon before the boss starts pulling walls down to find you.” She held her servo out. B hesitated.

“He’s looking for me?”

“Of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be?” B tapped his pedes nervously.

“I thought you guys were kinda fed up of me.” Elita chose not to address that. She grabbed his servo and pulled him towards the elevator. It was still open.

“How come these doors didn’t close behind me?”

“Cause they don’t open from this side. It’s so if somebot comes down here to get something they won’t get stuck.”

“But that means…” Her spark sank in her chassis.

“Yeah, I can’t call the elevator.”

She stared at him. She felt the rage she frequently had for Sentinel and his lackeys build up.

“So you planned on staying down here forever?” B started wringing his servos again.

“I dunno”

“Well how would you have come back up if I hadn’t found you here?”

“Optimus, Megatron and I climbed up through the chute.” He pointed at it. “I probably could have done that again.”

“Would you have?”

B didn’t answer.

“You’re coming back to Iacon with me.” She put a servo on his shoulder. “I cleared my schedule when I went looking for you so we can do whatever you want, ok?” She led him into the lift. He shrugged. “There are a couple movies I’ve been too busy to watch. We can watch them in my quarters if you want.”

“Sure” He smiled for the first time since she found him.

“We do have to go see Prime first. I’m a bit worried he has actually turned headquarters upside down in my absence.” B giggled. Elita felt a weight lift off her spark. Once the elevator started moving, she pulled him into another hug, more forcefully this time.

“Never scare me like that again, or I will actually kill you.”

“Okay”

[astrologanize]

august 2024 sun sign horoscope

aries sun: it's a good thing that you guys are usually able to find motivation for yourselves because this month you will have bouts of feeling down & out. within this year's lessons for you surrounding what is & is not worth the energy, subsequently there will be situations and opportunities that fall away from your path and leave you dazed. this month you're going to encounter a bypass/obstacles that make you feel hopeless, like you don't know what to do, and you may be tempted to become withdrawn. there may be something that falls apart or has already fallen apart and you need to try to put your very best foot forward regardless - time to get re-inspired! there may also be a situation that happens that is unfair or challenges you and it would be in your best interest to speak your mind. for the past few horoscopes your advice has been to not act, take a seat, but now it is time to stand up.

taurus sun: all year long there has been lessons for you in your one-on-one connections, the receptivity/give & take, conflict resolution, and hopefully you have been paying heed to such. this month has strong decisive energy coming through for you; your motivation may be increased to do something different with your life, to do away with certain things, you may have some chip on your shoulder that causes friction with others or you may just be involved in friction with others, you may be hasty or make hasty decisions, and its up to you to remember that you need to remain open (to the possibilities) instead of dying on hills. this is a great month for you to try new things, to plan new experiences, to consider alternatives, to listen to new perspectives, to have some spicy time & experiment in the bedroom, this is not a month to be persistent and/or endure.

gemini sun: lol transit mars in gemini wants cause some trouble for y'all i see. you geminis are gonna be feeling stuck like chuck this month, there is a situation or something going on for you in august that will make you have to put aside your feelings/wants and persist because there's not too much you can do about it - at least not at this time. but! you must try to keep up your productivity levels and do what you can with the hand you've been dealt, try not to shrug it off and be 'whatever' about it, get those gears in your head turning for good.

cancer sun: eh, i'm seeing potential carelessness for y'all this month because there are certain things that are being left in the air, there is a focus on options, and it's really on you to decide whether or not you're going to (continue to) struggle in vain or make the choice that is right/best for you - which of course will involve some difficulty for you in some way. it's time to straighten that backbone up, try to be proactive, try to have a good/healthy structure for yourself, and avoid letting things happen/come & go all willy nilly. rise above tomfoolery! very specific situation in my head but say you have a coworker that is shitty and this month something happens with them that puts you out and you have to take the high road. you've never gone to a supervisor about this shitty coworker but this time you need to say enough is enough and stand on business.

leo sun: for whatever reason i had a heavy feeling come through when i was reading for yalls month and i think its because this month the accumulation of everything that has come to pass is going to be nipping at you. you're not going to be in your feels in some woe is me way though, there will be a strong self-focus, you will be action-oriented this month, and you are going to be working towards finding or facilitating resolve. this isn't a month where you need to prioritize progress, what you need to do is take a step back and put the effort into tying up those loose ends - prioritize resolution indeed! try to avoid any crass behavior, you may experience crass behavior from others, find proper resolve where you can, and try to think before you speak (lol pretty similar to the june horoscope of needing to watch your words).

virgo sun: saturn in pisces has really had y'all out here like "what in the world am i doing?", huh? well, there's been a lot of floating for you throughout this year and this month will not be much different in that respect but you will be trying out new flavors for yourself! your expectations will be lessened and re-explored in august so that you can experience a new kind of freedom for yourself. it's like being on vacation in a foreign place and getting to experience all types of new foods and activities and spaces. lessen your expectations but try to have a healthy & flexible routine in place for this month so that you have a bit of balance as you slowly but surely rediscover what resonates with you.

libra sun: ooou la la look at y'all having a productive august. i'm seeing any petty emotions you had or may have being discarded and you actually choosing the mature path as you put your priorities in perspective and recognize the efforts you need to put forth. you have things to work on and by the end of the month you will definitely be far closer to your goals. amongst the productivity is also good rapport with others ; you will be cooperating with others and vice versa, maybe you hear people out more this month, perhaps you get closer to someone in your life, and your one-on-one interactions will be positive for the most part. it's a good month so don't waste it! don't try to control situations, avoid drama, avoid paranoia, and ultimately be open (even vulnerable perhaps).

scorpio sun: now why am i seeing potential messiness and you being reactive, hm? let's try to avoid that if we can buuut regardless. whatever you may have mind for this month i am seeing follow through so if you have a commitment to something then i do see you being able to step up to the plate. surrounding your month is a lighthearted energy and you may be more sociable this month, any plans to meet up with people will happen, there may be some notable gossip about you or adjacent to you or it's just somehow relevant to you, and there is potential messiness...you might get in your feels and want to be petty, you may have certain situations or connections in your life where pettiness is the norm and i do think it will be the same ol' same ol' with those connections (eyeroll emoji lol). you still have situations or habits in your life that you're needing to put an end to or are in the process of doing so and it isn't going to happen overnight, you just have to persist with choosing what's best for you.

sagittarius sun: well the good news is that this will not be a month you need to endure per se but it still involves growing pains nonetheless. this month is about being attentive to your life and any woes that are residual and/or current for you and being honest with yourself about them - i am emphasizing 'with yourself' because it's coming through very strongly that you should not confide or try harder with some connection in your life. either you have a connection in your life that you are struggling to distance yourself from because you're so used to the person (so it's a matter of comfort & familiarity) or you have/will take something more personally than you should. this is a time for you to stop enduring, to quiet your mind, to listen more than you speak, to attend to what you need to for yourself, and recognize any lack within yourself and your life.

capricorn sun: back in june you had a lack of certainty in yourself and the decisions that you were making but by this month you will be feeling, or will begin to be feeling, far more assured in yourself and ready to take life on again. you will have bouts of getting in your feels, you may get impassioned at times this month, but for the most part you're still in a space of trying to remain objective. there is something(s) in your life that you're wanting to let go of or you are in the process of letting go of and you're going to be feeling ready to find a new chapter. buuut like back in april, you need to remember to pace yourself instead of jumping in full force. not the best example but say there was a cat stuck in a tree, instead of you thinking you're a superhero and risking your own well-being in an attempt to retrieve the cat, it would be in your best interest to call the fire department to handle it - there are situations this month where you may have the urge to extend yourself further but try to refrain from doing so, you may feel a lil helpless at times and that is perfectly okay because you may need help this month!

aquarius sun: there is definitely potential for this to be a prosperous month for you if you choose to get inspired because there will be a new path formed for you in doing so. throughout august you will be making decisions to do things and to put things in place but you will also be having to rely on others at times, and this may create difficulty for you. for some of you, you need to be careful of taking advantage and using others this month but there may be an opportunity that does involve you relying on a connection to someone - it's like if you need a supervisor to vouch for you to help get you a promotion. you will have times throughout the month where you gain experience and/or you will feel more experienced or 'above' another. try to seize new opportunities, sign up for a new hobby/allow your energy to be released somehow, welcome in good energy.

pisces sun: there is something you have in mind or will have in mind this month that is not going to happen or it won't happen the way you want it to. whatever it is, you're going to deal with it and throughout august you will be dealing/having to deal with situations that force you to put your feelings aside. even when you have moments where your feelings pour out, you will be quick to suck it up and recognize that you have priorities to attend to. some sort of regret may come up, maybe it's one from the past or a regret that develops this month and again, you're going to deal with it - and by the end of the month you will have a more detached attitude towards it like 'what's done is done, i'm going to focus on what i can do presently'. try not to get in your head this month because that's how you make mountains out of molehills, focus on the reality in front you, be realistic, and be action-oriented in a practical sense.

[vodika-vibes]

I saw that you asked for crosshair requests, and I had an idea I figured I'd run by you in case it gave you any inspiration. I was thinking about a kind of friends to loves situation with crosshair and his casual flirting suggesting a friends with benefits situation, but the reader says no despite clearly being attracted to him, and when pressed confesses to being afraid of falling in love with him if they hook up. idk if that's smth you want to write, just hope you focus on stuff you want to do and don't burn yourself out :)

We Could Be More

Summary: Summary: You and Crosshair are friends, only the emotions are a little…more. You’re not really surprised when Crosshair comes to you with a proposition. Friends with benefits would make sense, it’s not as if the Empire will allow you more. You’re both surprised when you turn him down.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 1577

Warnings: Discussions of a friends with benefits type situation, some adult discussion, Crosshair demands an explanation when the Reader says no, discussion of the lack of clone rights

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I hope this is close to the idea that you had. I had fun writing it, and I'm so glad that people are feeding my sudden, and surprising, crosshair obsession. RIP me.

You enjoy your job.

You’d enjoy it more if you had your own workshop, or even a workspace that wasn’t a small, unused, section of the ship.

Hell, at this point, you’d be happy with having a chair and a desk so you don’t have to sit on the floor while repairing the mouse droids. You’d also accept a cushion, or a thick blanket.

But no.

You have to sit on the floor with little mouse droids zipping around you while you make sure they work properly.

Still, you like working with droids. They’re easy. Easier than your co-workers.

Well, easier than most of your co-workers.

You flip the mouse droid back on its wheels, and it zooms around you, chattering happily. “Alright, you’re all set,” You say to the droid, “Watch out for more Admirals.”

The little droid chatters and then zooms out the tunnel that leads to your…hallway(?) and you sigh and stretch your arms over your head. Maybe if you send a very polite email to your supervisor you can get a desk…or at least a proper cushion.

“You know,” You yelp at the voice coming from the doorway, “I think you like those droids more than anyone else on this ship, kitten.”

“Don’t do that! You nearly gave me a heart attack,” You say as you press your hand over your pounding heart. And then you drop your hand and glance up at the much taller man, “I thought you were on a mission, Cross?”

“I was, and now I’m not. Funny how that happens.”

“Ooh, you think you're funny, don’t you?” You say with an amused grin on your lips.

“Funnier than most of the people on this ship, yeah.” Crosshair leans against the wall and slides down so he’s sitting next to you, his knees raised and his arms draped over his knees, “Busy morning?”

“Isn’t it always?” You ask with a sigh, “One of the mouse droids was in the way when a member of the Imperial Guard came though, and nearly crushed him to pieces.” You gesture to the side, “It’s over there, somewhere.”

“Bad luck.”

“Tell me about it.” You say with a sigh, “It’s going to take me days to rebuild it.”

“Hm.” Crosshair hums noncommittally. “What’s the Imperial Guard doing here?”

“Hell if I know. You think anyone tells me anything?” You ask with a grin.

“Nah, but I know the mouse droids pick up audio.” Crosshair replies.

“Crosshair, are you implying that I’m spying on my coworkers, because that would be very, very wrong of me.”

“Uh-huh.”

You keep his gaze for a moment, before a grin cracks your face, “Okay, apparently the Emperor’s ship needed repairs, some kind of space debris.” You shrug, “I dunno, I don’t work on ships, I work on droids.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they could fit a ship in your hallway.”

“Excuse you, this is my office, sir.”

“And you can’t even afford a chair, or a desk. Shame.”

You laugh and bump him with your shoulder, “Rude, maybe I like sitting on the floor.”

“Do you?”

“No. I think my butt is numb.”

Crosshair’s eyes glitter with mischief, “Want me to massage it for you?”

“I don’t think you’ve earned butt touching privileges.” You counter with a sniff.

“Shame. You have a really nice one. Very round and squeezable.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like a massage. It sounds like you just want to grope me.”

He shrugs, “Same thing.”

“Very different.” You correct him with a laugh.

“Not the way I do it.”

“Oh? You have a lot of practice then?”

“Well, I might be a little out of practice. I haven’t had the chance to practice my skills since the Republic fell.” Crosshair admits.

“Aww, poor thing. How ever will you survive?” You tease him lightly as a new mouse droid limps in and you grab it and flip it immediately.

“I have a pretty good idea,” Crosshair counters as he leans back against the wall, his gaze locked on you.

You hum thoughtfully as you examine the wheels.

You and Crosshair are friends, because that’s all the Empire will allow. It’s illegal for Crosshair to have relations with people. And actual relationships are out of the question. Which is a shame, you’d be interested in seeing where this, whatever it might be, could go if given the chance.

You pull a piece of metal out from the wheel well, and then set the droid back on its wheels, and it scurries away. “Sorry, you were saying?”

Crosshair stares at you, a small smirk on his lips. “I have a…proposition, of sorts, kitten.”

You arch a single brow, “Go ahead.”

His smirk grows, “When was the last time you got laid?”

Your face burns, “I’m not answering that.”

“Come on, kitten, it’s me.”

You fold your arms, “If you tease me even once-”

“I would never.”

“Yes, you will.” You grumble. Crosshair flashes, what he probably thinks is, an angelic look, and you huff and avert your eyes. “...fine, I’ve never actually-”

A broad grin crosses his face, “Kitten, are you a virgin?”

You scowl at him, “You heard me.”

He looks absolutely delighted, and you consider kicking him in the shin for half a minute. “That makes my proposition even better.”

“If you’re about to tease me-”

“How do you feel about a friends with benefits type situation?” Crosshair interrupts you.

Your words die on your tongue, and you blink at him, “...what.”

“You heard me.”

“I did, I’m just trying to process.” You admit, you hold up a finger, “I just told you that I’m a virgin, and you want a friends with benefits situationship. With me.”

“Did I stutter?”

“Just making sure I heard you correctly.”

“You did.”

You frown at him, rolling the idea around in your mind.

It’s not that you don’t want. Because you do. More than you’re ever going to put into words. Crosshair is so handsome and while he’s not kind, he is good. Good in a way that he doesn’t seem to see in himself.

You could love him, if you gave yourself the chance.

And you can’t risk that. You can’t risk him.

So, hating yourself a little, you focus your attention on him, “I’m flattered, Cross.” You say slowly, “But I think that’s a terrible idea.”

“Why?” His eyes narrow at you, “Because I’m a clone.”

“Of course not. That’s never been important to me.”

“Then what? You’re not attracted enough? I’m not nice enough?”

“Cross-”

“You didn’t flat-out refuse, you said it’s a terrible idea. Why is it a terrible idea?” Crosshair demands.

“Because.”

“Because isn’t an answer.”

“Because I’m afraid I’ll fall in love with you, and you’ll get hurt.” You say honestly.

Crosshair pauses, “...You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

“I’m not dumb, Crosshair. I know it’s illegal for you to have sex with anyone. And it’s even more illegal for you to enter a relationship with someone. And the Empire isn’t the Republic, they will kill you before they’ll punish me.”

He leans back, his gaze calculating, “What if I said that I didn’t care?”

You frown at him, “I care, that’s enough for me.”

He leans in so that his face is only a few inches away from your own, “What if the Empire wasn’t a concern?”

You lean in as well, so that you're even closer, “You can’t bring down the Empire, Crosshair, you’re one man.”

“I could try, if you wanted me to.”

Your gaze softens, “As strong and broad as your shoulders are, that weight would still crush you, Cross.”

He searches your face for a moment, “What if we defected?”

“Please tell me you don’t want to defect simply so you can get laid?”

“I’m not dumb, it’s only a matter of time before they decommission me.” Crosshair says, “The Clones are expendable.”

Your hands curl into fists, your nails digging into the palms of your hands, “Cross-”

“So what do you say? If we defect, would you be willing to consider a friends with benefits relationship?”

“You’re impossible.”

“Hey, if I’m about to risk my life by running away from the largest government entity in the galaxy, I’d like to know if there are some perks on the other side.”

“Oh my god,” You push your hands through your hair, “Okay, fine. Yes. If we defected, and I knew you weren’t going to get yourself killed simply because you wanted to get your dick wet, then yes, I would agree to a friends with benefits relationship.”

He leans back, “Deal. We leave tonight.”

“Do you have a plan?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Is it a good plan?”

Crosshair just smirks, “How many mouse droids can you call back right now?”

“...all of them, why?”

“Call them back, we’re going to rig them to blow up.”

Your jaw drops, “My babies-”

He rolls his eyes, “You have a better suggestion?”

“...no…”

“Great. Then get started. I’m going to come and get you tonight. We’re going to escape on one of the smaller ships.” Crosshair says.

“And go where?”

“Pabu.”

“I have questions.”

“My batch mates live there.”

“...I have even more questions.”

“They can wait.” Crosshair leans over to you and lightly kisses your temple, “You have work to do, kitten. I’ll see you tonight.”

And then Crosshair is gone, and you’re left feeling like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.

[therulerofallpotatos]

Hannigram Fic Rec List

In no particular order, some hannigram fics I recommend

This is in response to @cassyglenn 's post from a few hours ago I just saw.

So Delicate the Bones by unrealshrike

Summary:

After her father's unsolved disappearance, sixteen-year-old Adeline finds herself at the mercy of a new school, serial killers, FBI agents, and an unorthodox psychiatrist. Meanwhile, Hannibal wants to provide Will with a child after the fatal incident at the Hobbs’ home, and who better than his opportune new patient?

Chp 26/26 Word Count: 177,096 Words

So Delicate the Bones is one of those special fics in this fandom that introduces an original character into the main cast that is both genuinely interesting on their own and fits in with the established ensemble seamlessly. The story is riveting and I was sucked into it almost immediately. I highly recommend this. My bookmark notes (which I design specifically for me) were: An absolute epic of a novel. Adeline/Addie/Del

The Voices and the Shadows by darlinghogwarts, MaddyHughes, and slashyrogue

Summary:

“The Chesapeake Ripper? The serial killer? That's a grisly thing to find at the bottom of a drink. Most people say oblivion ...or possibly sex.” Hannibal sips his wine again. “Why are you thinking about a murderer on your birthday, Will? Is it part of your degree?”   “He is a part of my degree by my own choice. My supervisor didn’t approve, but…” He sighs. “I insisted.” AU where Will—a Masters student studying the Chesapeake Ripper—gets drunk on his birthday and meets an intriguing man at the bar.

Chp 36/36 Word Count: 114,625

My personal bookmark note that I wrote in 2017 when I made this bookmark: The sweetest slowest most infuriating and beautiful burn you will ever experience.

In all honesty I read this in high school when I first started reading Hannibal fanfiction. I might've even read this before watching the show. That said, I don't make a note like that lightly. I only ever write notes like these when I want to remind a me years in the future why I bookmarked something in the first place. Some of the best novels I've read were a handful of fics that I'd make that note for. I know that this enthralled me, sucked me in. I was invested. I was glued to it for days. If this were another fandom, I might expect for it to hit softer if I were to reread it now, but Hannigram in particular has a habit of hitting just as hard at 25 years old as it did at 17 years old.

Light Up the Torches by HigherMagic

Summary:

"We need to find out who this rogue agent is," Sutcliffe says. "Right now, I think it would be fair to assume they're one of ours or our allies', since only our enemies are being killed." Hannibal nods. "Hold briefings with all your captains," he tells them. "I want no stone unturned. Tell them that whoever is doing this will not come to harm; I would very much like to meet them."

Chp 1/1 Word Count: 7,197

My bookmark note was: Oh fuck yes

It must have been delightful. I know myself well enough to know this is just a good time to be had.

The Living Doll by Anna_Jay

Summary:

Will is aware of what he's getting himself into when he buys the dreaded Doll House. Because of the cursed doll, no one has been able to stay longer than a month. He doesn't mind. Perhaps death would be kind after everything he's been through. Over the next few days Will finds himself attached to the strange doll he's named Hannibal. After all, it is just a doll. Right?

Part 2/3 Chp 9/9 Word Count: 35,675

The Living Doll is a 3 part series in which part 2 is the bulk of the story. The link above is for the series so you can easily start at the beginning. This is hands down one of my favorite fics. Ever. Like across all fandoms. actually no. it's one of my favorite novellas I've ever read period. I actually wrote my own haunted ball joint doll fic for a completely different fandom because of this fic's inspiration (it is nowhere near as good but I can share it if you're interested I suppose. It's still a very different story). It's creepy. It's romantic. It's intense and classic. It could easily get picked up by Blumhouse Productions and make a very good movie out of it. If you read anything on this list, read this.

Darling, Don't Be So Shy by murdergatsby

Summary: Will is a paranormal investigator with a special gift. Hannibal is a demon swelling with boredom. Their meeting was supposed to lead to a simple exorcism, but Will has a nasty habit of getting attached.

Chp 13/13 Word Count: 34,571

This was also one of my first Hannigram fics I read back in high school. I adored this fic. I'm a big fan of haunting each other/possession/melding each other into one type dynamics and their distinct dynamic in this story drew me in like a moth to a flame. i read it more than once and saved it here for safekeeping. I will likely reread it after finishing this list.

How to Save a Life (The Cannibal-Friendly Handbook) by KittenDiamore

Summary:

There’s a man looking up at Will, who has clearly been distracted from - Oh. Throwing limbs into the river. Human limbs. Lovely, he thinks sarcastically. Then he thinks it again because it actually is kind of lovely. The man looks confident. At ease with what he is. He’s kinda hot, too. Or: Will tries to jump off a bridge but ends up offering himself up to a cannibalistic serial killer...as you do.

Chp 1/1 Word Count: 3,463

For a shorter rec, this is a delightful little one-shot with a different first meeting (I love different first meeting fics). Delightful premise. Delightful follow through. Had this in my bookmarks for years as well.

There is also one more fic I was expecting to find in my bookmarks and now am going to ask anyone to help me find because it isn't there. There was a series that I read early on (probably 2017) that was about Hannibal who had a 10yo son at the time of the show. The story evolved into a series that was about that son and it deserved to be. It was one of those special projects where an original character naturally stole the show and we were reading to see where his story would take him more than anything else. These were novels and they were epic and I would love to get my hands on it again. This child was cunning and devoted to his father and his own personal ambitions. Any help finding this fic and any fics similar to it would be extremely welcome.

Oh! and a link to my bookmarks as well because there are more fics there. I just listed the ones that stood out the most/that I remembered enough to write my own spiel about them. I have not actually read every single fic I've marked, but even those are interesting enough that I saved them for later.

[oh-saints]

Fellow engineer here! Thank you for not writing us off ❤️ Can you do an F1 engineer and that's how you meet Ruben Dias or Mason Mount?

i'm sorry this takes AGES but here's to you fellow engineers <3

paddock

rúben was only supposed to enjoy another favourite sport of his over the weekend in monaco and she was only supposed to drag george russell from the william’s garage, for the driver hung around too much with alex albon. but life, as we know it, never made it as simple as it seemed.

rúben dias x f1crew!reader

word count: 1.8k

note: good god, this has been sitting for far too long... time to let this out! mainly inspired by pictures of rúben watching f1 in monaco and as usual, i happen to always write around dawn so ofc this is not beta-read.

request still open & you can drop them here!

goddamn it, russell.

the young british racer was infamously known for his mischief way of life, pranking people here and there whenever he wasn’t driving his racing car, and—unfortunately—you happened to be on the other end of his antics, more often than not.

as the junior engineer to someone who didn’t bother to hide his distaste towards rigorous technical discussions, your job sometimes required you to flip the entire paddock upside down to hunt george down until he finished all of the nitty gritties he’d rather bypass.

it was another case of haas team finding out mick hang around in mercedes’ garage a while ago. except for you, it was more of a weekly case.

as soon as you spotted the bright blonde locks amongst brown heads, you forced your feet to move faster because your supervisor’s wrath wasn’t something you were fond of. especially when you were now tired from hearing it’s been weeks and you still can’t get him to work together with you? endlessly every weekend.

“george william russell!”

at your shout, alex albon and nicholas latifi immediately went into a disperse. they knew george was due for a wee bit of finalizing this weekend’s machinery, but the brit managed to coax them into playing with him, and now that you were barrelling towards them, they didn’t want any part of it.

you were already using george’s full name, anyway. definitely time to run for the williams racers.

“alright, alright,” the youngest between the racers, groaned. “I’m coming, okay?”

you didn’t say anything else as a response to that, other than dragging george by the hand.

“I said I’m coming, okay!” he shouted at you this time but you paid no heed. he wasn’t the one rolling your paycheck anyway. “let me grab my tumbler first, jesus.”

george stashed your fingers away before he walked away from you. only then did you realise that everyone’s eyes had been directed towards the quarrel between you and george, and you had never felt so small in your life.

this was exactly why you insisted on working behind the scene, despite your immense love for motor racing since childhood.

“hi, there.”

you were so startled that you jumped on your feet, almost knocking off someone in front of you that definitely looked like an important guest, suits and all.

“I’m sorry,” the man continued with a soft chuckle, and you melted in your place at the sheepish grin plastered on that gorgeous face. “I didn’t mean to surprise you.”

your eyes couldn’t help themselves when they scanned the hanging lanyard, indicating he was a guest of this side of the paddock. when your vision went back up, you noticed he was now flashing a full-watt grin—he’d caught you checking him out. well, sort of.

you coughed yourself while you straightened your spine and feet, in order to regain your composure, but before you could open up your beak to reciprocate his effort—you love a good banter—george shouted for your name from a far.

“let’s go!” with his wicked smile, george knew what he was doing to mess up your chance on scoring what could possibly your big shot

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“hi again, there.”

the meeting had ended well—it always did because george actually knew what he was doing and his feedbacks were always valuable. he was just too lazy to sit through the meeting, dealing with technical jargons and everything. so now you were back to the paddock, just in time for the mechanic’s pit-stop practice.

you had stepped aside, giving the performing team more space so they could work more freely under countless eyes of the VIPs and paddock-club owners who were interested with the whole ordeal. so certainly, you didn’t expect the man from earlier to sneak up behind everyone’s back so he could reach you.

it seemed like he had a knack for surprising you.

“oh, hi,” but you didn’t want to complain. you’d be too shy to come up to him if you had the chance, anyway. “fancy seeing you again, monsieur.”

seeing you weren’t giving off a bad signal whatsoever, he stepped in closer to you, which meant closer view to those fit, bulging arms he was folding in front of his chest now. you were about to remind yourself to breath when he spoke up, “you certainly look like you belong here more than william’s.”

“and white certainly looks better on you than blue,” you had been mentally taking note about the white Mercedes shirt he was now dangling messily over his own beige shirt, but you didn’t mean to say that out loud. realising your slip of tongue, you averted the conversation elsewhere. “sorry i haven’t had the chance to introduce myself.”

“rúben,” he replied after you said your name, welcoming your extended hand. “i’ve got to say i’m impressed with your garage more than william’s or mclaren’s.”

you had to remind yourself to breath and act normal after you felt his hands. it was pretty much what you imagined them to be—damn, you were swooning over a hand? that was the first. “why’s that?”

“well, beside the fact that you’re here?”

chuckling, you had to give this man a kudos for sporting no-nonsense. this indicated he knew what he wanted and for you, that was a very sexy aspect a man could possess. “here i am thinking to give you a pass to let you watch the race from here,”

rúben couldn’t help but laugh at your playful banter. you were exactly how he thought you to be and god, isn’t this refreshing? all these models on his DMs were giving him one-dimensional conversations. “oh no, i’ve blown my chances!”

you found it impressive that rúben was able to make you laugh effortlessly, despite the lame joke. is it because those big, brown eyes? “if you promise to be a good boy, i might cancel what i said.”

“of course i will, mother,” he stood up straighter, hands were now behind his back, in line with the act he was putting on.

the attractive gummy smile was still attached to the face, though.

“i was saying that mercedes’ better because i spot some different equipment and tools and other things i don’t see on other garages and it’s interesting you’re a part of why it runs smoothly here.”

“alright, alright, here’s your headphone,” you rolled your eyes as if you’d heard enough of the same pick up line, but in truth, you were trying to mask your palpitating heart from the last part of his sentence. “please stay behind this line right here and do not, at any circumstances, use the mic here. i’ll be very busy during the race so if you need anything, you can ask nicola here.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

the silver arrow gained 1-2 deadlock till the end of the most legendary street circuit and the whole team erupted in cheers. it’d been a long while since they’d last done it here, and it meant more for you because you got to soak in the experience as the lead engineer for george russell. another achievement unlocked for you, to stand winning amongst those brilliant group of men as your teammates.

the euphoria almost blinded you and swept you away to join the rest of the crew in the side line as the cars pulled up for post-race procedures. until you forgot your sunglasses so you could look up to the historic podium, and that was when you realised rúben was still standing not far from where your working post was.

the reality dawned on you.

“you’re still here.”

he did not move an inch from the post you’d designated for him, not far from you. he’d seen you working, through ups and downs of a stressful race. while deep down you felt ashamed he must’ve seen you cursing and cussing like those words were water to your tongue, you were more touched at the fact that he was waiting for you.

waiting for you while you worked, waiting for you while you celebrated with your teammates. all without imposing—the paddock had seen and invited so many celebrities inside, and the guests would jump as if they contributed to the win the team was achieving. but rúben wasn’t like that, at all, and you could feel whatever wall you were trying to put up, obliterated at that second.

noticing you were too stunned at whatever sight you were witnessing, rúben walked up to you. “you think i’m going somewhere?”

“well, would you wait? until the podium’s finished?”

you knew you were shooting for the stars because this man was a VIP guest, albeit for another team on the grid, but heck, you had to try. it’d been a while since the last time a man intrigued you the way rúben had been doing.

it’d been a while since the last time rúben felt the same way too. “for you? absolutely.”

you didn’t know if it was the adrenaline or the longing feeling of a man sweeping you off you feet—you’d grown steel since being surrounded by men almost 7 days a week—that fueled you brain, and fuck did you not want to know. rúben’s cliché answer was enough of a reason for you to reach for those muscular, long arms hidden under his shirt and pulled him to join the crowd heading towards the podium.

you laughed as carlos’ manager spotted you dragging rúben almost like a ragdoll and the carefree, out-of-pressure laugh brought a wide smile to rúben’s face. he liked this, a woman handling stares thrown at them like a second skin to you, more than he’d like to admit. and maybe, he needed this more than he thought he would.

rúben used his huge, muscular figure to maneuvered you to his front, protecting you from push and shove from people around you both just because they wanted to see their favourite racer lifting the trophy. such gesture would usually scare you because you’d gotten used to such treatment during your trip to the club, but this time, you couldn’t help but melt under his ministrations.

feeling you getting comfortable, rúben dared himself to shoot for the stars this time. he dipped down, levelling his lips to your ears so you could hear him despite the loud atmosphere. “ditch the party tonight and have a dinner with me.”

it didn’t take you a second to respond, “where do you have in mind?”

[staybabblingbaby]

Janitor AU (Ambush Part) a1 d2

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Reader is a member of the cleaning staff at JYP. With a decent history of managing to avoid the idols on staff, Reader keeps to themself and keeps their head down. A chance encounter with SKZ in one of the practice rooms may change that...

Word Count: 1,293

Notes: LMAO Just saw that I already posted this and just didn't put it on the ML. RIP. I'm keeping this one instead of the old one <3

I remember spitting this out really fast and then hitting a dead stop and hating everything about it. Not sure what that was about, it's a pretty standard first attempt for me. Not feeling editing notes rn, so just. have at.

This was pretty heavily inspired by a BTS fic on Ao3 that was MUCH smuttier and about a Brat, but I can't remember the name anymore. If it reads as familiar to anyone, will you please tell me what it reminds you of? I'd love to give proper credits.

Original Notes: This is the first one that really looks like the w.i.p it is lol. The beginning is super awkward and I'll probably redo that entirely. This concept is inspired by another fic, but I'll have to hunt it down bc I can't find it rn. I saw that one and went "I want that but without the smut" and so I wrote it lol. This one needs a lot of work, but I probs got frustrated bc it looks like I left off in the middle of sentence lmao.

Warnings: None that I know of?

Masterlist link |

You hum lightly to yourself as you pull your hairband up from where it rested around your neck and push your hair out of your face. You double check that you have the appropriate ‘cleaning in progress’ and ‘wet floor’ signs up and turn to hijack the sound system every practice room was equipped with.

This was the most envied privilege of your assigned areas - you got to blast your music loud and proud as you cleaned instead of hoping your headphones can go loud enough to be heard over your machines without bursting your ear drums. It was envied in your opinion anyways. You wouldn’t trade areas for anything, even if the stink of sweat was overpowering sometimes.

You can’t help your amusement at the thought that there were some fans of the idols you worked for that would adore having to smell their stank every day. It was just an occupational hazard for you, though.

You’re sure being janitorial staff is no one’s dream, regardless of which building you happen to be cleaning. It works for you, though. You wouldn’t say it had been remotely in your life plan to be scrubbing huge mirrors, or airing out the smell of sweat from the JYP practice rooms, but you enjoyed the peace it allowed you.

Two years out of college, with an unrelated degree, in a country you’d never dreamed of moving to, and you still wouldn’t trade it for the world. The twists and turns of life that had lead you here hardly mattered anymore.

Besides, you don’t see the idols as much as you’d assume for someone who cleaned their practice rooms for a living. It was another privilege of yours, if anyone were to ask your opinion. Not that anyone asked you much of anything, aside from your supervisor. Your quiet existence as just another cog that kept everything running smoothly was soothing to you.

You could be loud and take up space outside of work. Not that you really did, but you could if you wanted to. Maybe you should. You were still virtually friendless a year and a half after getting this job. You only really spoke to your coworkers, and barely at that. Your homebody tendencies continue to sabotage your social life.

You had plenty of online friends, it was fine.

You’ve digressed. No idols equals privilege of your area. Right.

You knew several of the newer folks spent a few weeks after their hire giggling to each other when they got to see the idols just casually hanging around and doing their jobs, but you’d avoided them from the start.

At first it was just because you were shy and many idols had a bit of rbf going on. You’d been incredibly intimidated by both their beauty and their success, and your Korean hadn’t been as eloquent as you’d have liked it to be. By the time you’d spoken to enough trainees to relax around the idols, you’d still been unsure with your Korean. And then when you’d gotten that in order it’d been so long you simply felt awkward.

You’d been working in the building for a year and a half and had done a spectacular job at crossing paths with as few idols as possible. You weren’t about to seek them out now. You’d been sought out yourself a time or two, by idols that were close to the trainees you spoke with more frequently. Apparently you’d been labeled “the nice janitor noona with the snacks” and curiosity and food were fabulous motivators.

It didn’t happen frequently. When you’d asked about it, you’d learned that apparently you were being gatekept by the trainees. Ostensibly so they could keep your snacks for themselves, but you liked to believe they just liked you.

You finally get your phone connected to the speakers and start to blast your work playlist. You can’t help doing a little dancey-dance as you begin to sweep, mop, and wax the hardwood floor. What could you say? Your playlist was simply bop after bop.

You’re in the middle of dipping your mop handle low and pretending to sing along to Fall Out Boy when the door creaks open slowly.

You straighten quickly but there’s no way the person at the door didn’t see you goofing around.

“One sec!” You call out quickly, forgetting to speak Korean in your haste. You dash over to the sound system to pause your music, your ears ringing in the silence. When you turn around you’re confronted with the amused eyes of one Lee Know of Stray Kids.

“Ah, Lee Know-ssi!” You bow quickly but politely in greeting. “I’m sorry, this room is being cleaned right now, it’s not available for practice.”

Lee Know gives you a slow nod, looking like he was holding in a laugh.

“I know, I saw the sign,” Lee Know replies, tilting his head at you. You secretly let out a breath of relief at that. For a second there you’d thought you’d forgotten. “I was just curious who was playing music loud enough to hear outside.”

You immediately fluster at that, waving your hands in front of yourself, “Ahhh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to disturb!” You gesture at the floor machine sitting pretty in the corner of the room with your supply cart.

“I’ll be waxing the floor in a bit, usually the machine is loud enough to cover it. Hadn’t gotten there yet, though.” You laugh nervously, popping your wrists and fingers just for something to do with your hands.

Lee Know shakes his head, waving your apology aside. “No, you’re good, I got to see something fun out of it.”

You’re sure you flush bright red, and you cant help but bury your head in your hands with a groan. You can hear Lee Know stifle a laugh, but you’re too busy languishing in your humiliation to pay attention to him.

After a moment you peak at him from between your fingers. He still looks like he’s trying very hard not to laugh at you.

“If I bribe you with snacks will you erase this from your memory?” You plead with him. He raises an eyebrow at you and hums consideringly.

“Depends on the snack.” He finally concedes, prompting you to start towards your cart, much more at ease with a potential solution in sight.

“I’ve got a couple kinds,” You start to explain, “Everyone likes to ambush me for them, so I’ve learned to come prepared.”

You hear another huff of laughter from far closer than you were expecting, Lee Know having wandered over while you were distracted with rummaging though your cart. You have to move several things out of the way before you can grab the small basket containing your prize.

You may have gotten used to being ambushed for snacks, but that also meant you’d gotten used to hiding them so that you’d at least get to eat some of them. You swore the trainees could smell when you had their favorites stocked up. Animals, the lot of them.

“Who’s ambushing you?” Lee Know questions with amusement.

“Everyone who knows I have them.” You reply with false despair. “The trainees have a sixth sense for them, I fear.” Lee know snorts at that and you grin at him with equal mirth.

“Ah, yes, as a former trainee, I can confirm that they do.” He tells you somberly. You click your tongue and shake your head.

“I knew it.” you say, “They only love me for my snacks. And here I thought they just liked to talk.” You place a dramatic hand over your heart, acting hurt and betrayed.

Lee Know chuckles at you, but doesn’t respond as he leans in to

[supertwist-royalty-ttr]

I was writing an interaction between Auditor and President and I realized that nobody talks about the other supervisors bondings (If someone does, PLEASE LET ME KNOW 👀)

So, I'll show you...

✨ Mag's silly list of TTR Supervisors bondings headcanons which nobody asked for✨

I know I said that I'm a fan of the idea that they all hate each other, despite their bosses are besties, but how are the particular bondings for me? 😛 I think that ALL the bondings have a base of distrust, but they vary in another ways 👀

1. Foreman 🔥 — Club President 🏌️‍♀️

They HATE each other, SO MUCH, WITH PASSION, WITH THEIR ROBOTIC HEART ❤️‍🔥

They are the LEAST tolerated. Foreman has very little patience and President has a very intense personality, so their attitudes crash a lot and very often. Club President criticizes him A LOT about his work (OBVIOUSLY INSPIRED IN SUPERVISING THE SUPERVISORS PLEASE READ IT IF YOU DIDN'T), which Foreman obviously doesn't like. But all of this conflict, ends up with they thinking a lot about each other, maybe they can be confused with silly feelings? 😏

And, based on "Supervising the Supervisors"...They tend to meet to play golf ⛳ Maybe that's another reason of their beef (But he ends up repairing President's arm loses 💕)

2. Clerk 📚 — Club President 🏌️‍♀️

Very, very good friends! (I think we all assumed it after the 1st UNM announcement). They meet a lot in their facilities, they play golf together when they have time, and they talk a lot.

I like to think that they talk about how powerful they are, and gossip (In a moral and legal way) about what CJ and CEO do and say. And Clerk is very used to hearing the President's complaints about Foreman.

President always tries to ask her for Virtual Skelecogs for her, but Clerk always denies it.

3. Foreman 🔥 — Auditor 📈

They are good friends who tend to meet often. Auditor sees friends in people who don't want his money and Foreman is one of those. I like to think that they meet to have some drinks and talk about life and against toons (?)

But Foreman is the one who complains the most because of Club President, so Auditor is very used (And a little tired) of his venting, but he always listens to him :)

AND NOW THAT WE KNOW THAT THEY ARE BOTH BALD, they could comment about it HAHAAHA

4. Foreman 🔥 — Clerk 📚

In the same line of my headcanon of Clerk being a skilled programmer and knowing a lot of technology stuff, I think that Foreman is a very skilled mechanic (bc he works at the Factories, kinda obvious :U), so all of their conversations are based in cog making stuff.

He knows that President is her friend and tries to not talk about her too much because he is afraid of being silenced. On the other hand, she knows that if he gets angry, he will start to yell in a loud voice (Overtime reference), which she dislikes a lot, so they both talk with a lot of respect trying to not hurt the other.

5. Auditor 📈 — Clerk 📚

In the same line of my headcanon of Clerk being a skilled programmer (AGAIN), I like to think that they meet when Auditor needs to write stuff in excel, digitalize documents and all of the technology stuff that the Auditor might need (?) and Clerk can do. He doesn't pay her money because he STINGY (But pays with favors). They don't trust each other well (And Clerk doesn't like his voice), but they treat each other with respect.

Because they are friends with Foreman and President on each side, they end telling each other how fed up they are about their constant comments and venting of President and Foreman, something like:

— You know, I'm a little tired of hearing Foreman complaining about President...

— I'm also tired of hearing President complaining of Foreman, despite she is my friend.

And, as an extra, he tries to ask Clerk for Virtual Skelecogs to make his work easier, but she denied it.

6. Auditor 📈 — Club President 🏌️‍♀️

I like to think that they have one thing in common: ✨ BEING OBSESSIVELY PERFECTIONIST WITH THEIR OWN FACILITY ✨ Something like:

— I'm so done with these toons entering my Mint and trying to steal my perfectly organized money...

— I KNOW, RIGHT!? I HATE when toons enter MY countryclub, I DIDN'T ASK FOR THEM!

Besides that, I think that they get along well, with respect and maybe they can have a good time when they meet. I also think that she asks the Auditor about what Foreman says about her and he takes the chance to tell her in exchange for some money hehe.

I like to think that she invites him to play golf, but he doesn't like to leave the Mints because is afraid of being robbed (?

————

That's it! What do you think? Do you have more headcanons? I READ YOU 👀

[reineyday]

i posted this mishanks fic where shanks takes calculus 1 as an elective for fun thinking rayleigh's gonna teach it only to be confronted with ray's TA mihawk teaching the class instead.

in the a/n i mentioned that mihawk's having a bad morning and shares an open-concept office with the other warlords, all doing their phd's in the same department, and someone asked what they were specializing in. i thought about it enough that i figured i'd just post my reply here too. 😂 i am but a humble bfa-haver, so if any of these topics seem wrong or unlikely, let me know! 🥲 it's all based on their devil fruits (if they have them).

i was thinking mihawk is probably getting a doctorate of philosophy in mathematics, inspired long ago by his swordsmanship practice (both in meditation and in analysis of movement and connection) and tendency toward logic and rational thinking. he also likes problem-solving. rayleigh has a joint appointment professor job at new world, and while he teaches mostly hard mathematics, he also teaches philosophy courses. mihawk is following a similar path of research, and thus chose him as a supervisor.

i think it might be interesting if boa was studying philosophy as related to the subject of love and logic. rayleigh is her supervisor as well, because he did his own thesis back in the day on picking apart aristotle's body of research in the modern lens, and she's focusing on aristotle's three sources of affection/types of objects that are loved and lovable (the good, the pleasant, and the useful). she probably has to be talked down from some heavy-handed metaphors on turning to stone lol.

croc is probably studying something that has to do with the physical properties and manipulation of sand, especially in its power to change topographies over time, and perhaps branching into individual uses of sand as a method of force. he probably thinks about sandblasters too much.

moria... hmm, sciography (study of shadows) and the neurological and psychological effects differently-shadowed spaces have on a person. sciography is something that mostly architects use when designing spaces, but he's interested more in the effect on one's psyche in (un)lit spaces as opposed to the art and design of it all.

kuma uuhhhh actually kuma's devil fruit is already pretty philosophical, seeing as how he can repel actual concepts. if you can repel pain and fatigue, what's stopping him from repelling something like gender, or time? so he could be doing research on human constructs in society and challenging the way society is structured, but that seems more like a humanities subject so maybe he's researching actual physics and delving into something extremely niche about how things get repelled on a molecular level, even by the human touch.

doffy's doing something in the physics field as well. something about gravity and thread and force and manipulation. no one's actually sure, they just know it always ends in him tying invisible string to literally anything and everything in the office and saying it's for his thesis whenever he pisses someone off, which is always. and yes, the worst thing about him is he's always getting good grades, which makes them wonder if it really IS for his thesis, which then makes them somehow even more pissed off, because there shouldnt be any good reason for tripping over all this goddamn thread all the time in the office. 🤦🏻‍♀️

and jinbe is studying movement in water and the human kinetics of it all, also inspired by the martial arts that he does. benefits of training in water, how it strengthens the muscles in different ways, etc. etc. mihawk is very interested to read his paper when he's finished haha.

[ghostoffuturespast]

Writer Interview Tag 📝

Tagged by @luvwich. Thank you! These were fun to think about.

Q&A Below

When did you start writing?

For funsies, in 2022. I was working part-time then and had just binge read a bunch of fics. While I enjoyed what I read, none of them quite scratched the itch I had for more, so I was like guess I’ll have to write this story I want to read, yolo. As someone who hated writing growing up and all throughout school, I also figured it’d be good practice for me lol. Never fancied myself a writer until I started doing it. I sorely underestimated how much this hobby would consume my life.  

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I can get into just about anything, regardless of themes or genre, as long as it holds my attention and I think it’s interesting. I really enjoy reading non-fiction books though. Mainly science, history, ethnographies, or some mash up of all three. (That’s where the real money’s at.) They’re fascinating and can be very entertaining if you find the right one. Plus, it’s excellent inspiration fodder. Real life is often stranger than fiction, and real life is the primary source for all fiction.

I was in the book store recently and realized I had multiple Mary Roach books to catch up on. I very much wish I had more time and the peace of mind to read. Alas, modern society prioritizes The Grind™ and why is my house always dirty? Please feed me.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I honestly can’t say there’s a particular writer I’ve ever tried to emulate. Every writer’s got their own style and strengths, and the reason as to why I enjoy their writing is always different. They way I write is undoubtedly a mash-up of influences, but as for sorting them out myself… Eh. 

I’ve never been compared to anyone, which I’m fine with, much rather be known for just being me. But folks are free to share if they have an opinion on it though, I’m always curious to know what stands out to readers. Nobody tells me these kinds of things lol.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I bop around spaces a lot, but my primary spot is on my art table in my office. I have a desk for my computer lol, however I prefer the art table because it’s in front of a window and feels like a more creative space. Otherwise, I’m staring at the wall and sitting next to unopened stacks of mail and paperwork that I haven’t filed. I also like to write on my tiny porch with three different beverages when it’s not 8 million degrees outside or an arctic wasteland.

Sometimes I write at work when it’s one of those 10 hour days, I’ve finished everything pressing I needed to do, and I’m by myself in the office… Know your taxpayer dollars are going to a good cause and funding contributions to fan fiction. Willing to bet money I’m not the only government employee doing it either.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

For me, inspiration and motivation are two separate things that almost never happen at the same time, so my writing process is fairly compartmentalized. I’ll jot down ideas in my draft when they randomly strike then find ways to incorporate and string those ideas together when I actually sit down to write. “Muses” for me are less a choir of angels descending from the heavens and more my one brain wrinkle occasionally handing me a post-it note. 

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

As my supervisor likes to remind me, a theme needs to be a complete statement/sentence.

Topics/subjects/interests that appear frequently in my writing: violence, the inherent violence entrenched in colonial and capitalist systems, aikido, anthropology, nature is the answer, grief, intergenerational trauma, obvious and/or obscure references, callbacks, structural symmetry, body worship, teasing, the red-tape of bureaucracy, the sanctity of the mundane, being seen, self-acceptance, monsters and old gods, ghosts, the ancient and the archaic, personifying places, the poetry of paragraphs, grumpy characters, puns.

And I’m not surprised by any of these. I love (or love critically examining) all of these things.      

What is your reason for writing?

It is my greatest desire in this life to haunt people.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I love it when people take the time to comment at all, regardless of the type. Just the fact that someone took the time to connect is lovely! Most of the comments I get aren’t super in-depth though (I don’t get those analytical essays that I sometimes see in other comment sections) so the ones where a reader takes the time to explain what they thought, how they felt, or about what they noticed in my writing (even if it’s brief) are super special to me. It’s like “Yo! Thank you for seeing this thing I spent a bunch of time on. I appreciate and love you!” (cue spider-man pointing meme)

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

A friendly ghost.

I feel people tend to find me intimidating for reasons I don’t fully understand (irl and online, maybe it’s my resting ghost face). But, my dudes, I just wanna hang with you all. Truly. I know I’m bad at initiating conversation but please, I not scary. Weird for sure, but not scary.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Environmental descriptions/storytelling, action scenes, and big picture logistics. I get an idea for a story, sit down with it, and fifteen minutes later I’m rolling out full infrastructure blueprints. I got the plot, main story beats, and themes all mapped out. I’m good at assessing and planning, but also leave a lot of room to improvise too.

How do you feel about your own writing?

It ain’t perfect but it’s solid. Refining skills is a perpetual task. There’s always room for improvement, my writing’s gonna evolve over time, I’m gonna learn from other people; I’m okay with all of that.

Fuck proper grammar and punctuation though. It’s a social construct that I ain’t got time for. Linguistically I can do what I want because all the rules around that are made up too! I’m emulating modes of irl speech. As long as it mostly makes sense, I don’t really give a shit. Bite me. 

(Editors everywhere trying to strangle me.)

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

Purely for myself. Sometimes I write something and I think “so-and-so would probably appreciate this” but, unless it’s a writing project for someone else or I’m designing it for a specific audience in mind, I don’t put stock into what other people want. I tell the stories I want to tell.

Tagging with no pressure: @shimmer-like-agirl @baublekute @scarlettspectra

@genocidalfetus @dani-the-goblin @fly-amanitaa

[hannahmanderr]

DannyMay Day 16 - Fangs

Words: 2,122 (FFN)

Summary: A few student interns at DALV notice some odd things about Mr. Masters. The reactions vary, to say the least. (inspired by a prompt borrowed from @danphanwritingprompts: A few student interns at DALV notice some odd things about Mr. Masters. Like hell they’re gonna call him out though; this is the only paid internship in the county)

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

“Hey, have you guys noticed anything… weird about Mr. Masters?” Tariq asked as he slid into his cafeteria seat. The other four interns at the table looked up.

Dylan was the first to speak up. “Not really,” she said, looking back down at her lunch. “But I haven’t really seen him much. They’ve had me practically locked in those server rooms downstairs since the data breach last week.”

“They should just hire you at this point,” Linh-Nhu said as she began to peel an orange. “You’re basically doing the work of a full-time employee anyway.”

“I’m just glad this is a summer stint. I’d be a dead girl walking if I had to deal with this on top of classes.”

“Wait, wait,” Tariq interrupted. “That data breach, wasn’t it that weird ghost with the mullet that attacked last week?”

Dylan sighed and picked at her fried rice absently. “Unofficially? Yes. Officially? Apparently no. Something about having to deal with PR and all, since random CEOs from California apparently don’t buy the whole idea of ghosts in the first place.”

“You had better not be insinuating anything about Mr. Masters,” Marc said hotly, unfazed by Dylan’s woes. “Especially if you don’t have evidence to back it up!”

“Whoa, man, take it easy,” Tariq said. He raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Who said I was insinuating anything? I’m just curious is all.”

“I did overhear him talking to someone named Maddie over the phone the other day,” Linh-Nhu offered. “I don’t know what they were talking about, I was just passing by his office, but I was just confused because I could’ve sworn Mary-Claire said that Maddie was his cat.”

“He’s filthy rich,” Dylan said, pointing with her fork. “Rich people always do wacky things like talking to their cats on the phone.”

Tariq shook his head. “Nah, I’m not talking that kind of weird. I mean more like, physical things you’ve noticed about him.”

Marc slammed his water bottle onto the table with a little more force than was probably necessary. “Nope! Nuh-uh,” he said, wrinkling his nose into a look of disdain. “We should not be having this conversation in the first place! Do you realize how much trouble we’ll get in if someone overhears us?”

“Please, no one pays attention to the interns of all people,” Dylan retorted. She flipped her long brown ponytail over her shoulder. “I should know. My supervisor keeps calling me Diane. Any time I tell him it’s Dylan, he thinks I’m talking about the other Dylan, and he quit three weeks ago to move to Dallas.”

“Katarana, you haven’t said anything,” Tariq said, panning his eyes to the fifth and final member of their little intern group. “Have you seen anything weird going on with Mr. Masters?”

Katarana was still staring at Tariq with wide eyes. “No way,” she whispered. Then, with much more energy, “You’ve seen it too?”

“Seen what?”

She turned her head to Linh-Nhu, who had asked the question. “Vlad Masters is freaky,” she told the table. “We’re talking major freaky vibes.”

“Will you stop?” Marc hissed. “We cannot be talking about our boss like this!”

Dylan shrugged. “Free country, bro. What’s he gonna do to us?”

“Oh, hmm, I don’t know, how about fire us from one of the most prestigious internships in the country?”

She just grinned impishly. “And go back to Delaware, where I don’t have to worry about some dumb ghost thing interrupting my commute? Or try and steal all my cereal boxes again? Sign me up.”

“Marc, just shush for a minute, I wanna hear what Kat has to say,” Tariq said, flapping a hand dismissively at Marc. The latter drew his thick eyebrows together in a deep frown.

Katarana met each of their eyes in turn. “They say you can hear him talking in his office to other people, but when you open the door, he’ll be all alone. And others will swear up and down that the room will literally get hotter when he walks into a room, especially if he’s in a mood.”

Tariq scoffed. “Yeah, the same thing happens with my mom when she finds my dad’s sports magazines lying around all willy nilly. Come on, I’m looking for the juicy stuff here! I wanna see if any of you saw what I saw.”

“Your dad still gets actual, physical sports magazines? Like, in the mail?” Dylan said, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“I’m being serious here!” Katarana insisted, completely ignoring Dylan’s comment. “Jarvis told me the thermostat was reading 80 after a conference call gone wrong.”

“Wait.” Linh-Nhu frowned as she tried to process the information. She’d grown quiet and serious just within the past minute. “Am I the only one here from Amity Park?”

“I mean, I literally just got done talking about going back to Delaware, sooo…” Dylan shoveled a forkful of rice into her mouth.

“Not me,” Tariq said. “I basically go to school in the middle of a cornfield in Iowa. And honestly, I thought I was applying to the main branch for DALV in Madison.”

“I told them I was good with either,” Katarana said, shrugging. “Anything to get out of freaking Texas.”

“I haven’t lived in Amity Park, but I’ve basically been close enough,” Marc told the group. “Grand Rapids. About an hour or so north of here.”

“Bro, in what universe is an hour up the road ‘close enough’?” Tariq asked.

Linh-Nhu simply nodded. “So none of you have experience with ghosts,” she said. It was a statement, not a question. “Because if you did, you would know that Katarana’s claims are absolutely plausible.”

“What?” Marc screeched. “There is no way someone can heat a room just by entering it! Especially our boss, who gave us these jobs, need I remind you!”

“Says the guy who tried to say he pretty much lived here,” Dylan muttered under her breath.

“Wait, seriously?” Katarana said to Linh-Nhu. “I mean, not that I didn’t believe it was possible, but it has to do with ghosts?”

Linh-Nhu hesitated. “Possibly,” she conceded, “but not for certain. Here, it’s a well known fact that ghosts tend to have an effect on their immediate external environment, especially in times of heightened emotion or power. Most make it colder - especially a ghost such as Phantom - but there have been known to be some who can make the environment warmer instead.”

“How do you know all this?” Tariq asked. His eyes shone with a curious thirst, and accusation was nowhere to be found in his tone.

Linh-Nhu blushed. “I graduated from Casper High. It turned into a hotspot for ghost activity during my senior year,” she explained. “Plus I, um, might have sat in on one of Dr. Fenton’s public lectures. Or… more than one.”

“So you’re saying Vlad Masters is a ghost?” Katarana breathed. Dylan whistled, impressed.

“Oh, no! Nothing like that, of course. But… it’s certainly possible that ghost activity could be involved.”

“Both of you!” Marc seethed. “If you don’t quit making false accusations against Mr. Masters, I’m going to report you!”

“She literally just got done saying she wasn’t making any accusations!” Dylan said, gesturing towards Linh-Nhu, who had hidden her face behind her dark hair. “Like what is your deal, man? Why go so aggro all of a sudden?”

“Well, excuse me for having a sense of preservation about this internship!” he shot back. “Do you know how hard I worked to get here in the first place? This is one of the most competitive internships in the country! I had to go through a lot to make sure I got this job!”

“We all worked hard to get here,” Katarana said as she folded her arms across her chest. “Doesn’t make you any more special than the rest of us.”

“Can we go back to the part where Mr. Masters is potentially involved in some ghost crap?” Tariq whined. “I wanna tell you what I saw!”

“No one’s stopping you,” Dylan said. “Well, other than Marc apparently.”

Marc had buried his head into his arms. “We’re so getting fired,” he moaned, his voice muffled by his sweater.

Katarana practically glommed onto Tariq. “Do you have proof he’s a ghost or something?” she asked with her eyes gleaming in excitement.

“Alright, alright,” he said. He moved his arms in the universal ‘quiet down’ movement. “Gather ‘round, kids, ‘cause you won’t believe what I saw him do earlier.”

“I don’t know. You have to have a pretty open mind to live in Amity Park,” Linh-Nhu muttered quietly, the hints of an amused smile on the corners of her lips.

“Okay, so I’m in the copy room, right? Trying to un-jam one of the printers after it ate my reports. In walks Mr. Masters, and he’s on the phone going on about some deal with the S. Culcar client. He’s like, super up in arms about it all for some reason, and it literally gets to the point where he growls into the phone!” Tariq said, waving his arms theatrically.

“Growled? Like, a dog or something?” Dylan asked through another mouthful of her rice.

“Yeah, basically! It was so weird, but it wasn’t even the weirdest thing!”

“Because things can get weirder than a business mogul growling at one of his clients?” Dylan deadpanned.

“Oh, they absolutely can,” Tariq said with the air of someone trying to create a mystery. He took a long, dramatic swig from his Dr. Pepper before continuing. “He keeps getting angry, something about a failure to find someone, or something, I don’t know. But anyway, he yells something, and he’s got his teeth all bared and stuff, like he was seriously channeling a dog or something. And I look over, just cause he’s being so loud and stuff, and he’s literally got fangs showing.”

The table was silent for a long moment. “Wait, hang on,” Katarana said, waving her hands. “You’re telling me Mr. Masters has fangs? Like he’s some sort of lion?”

“Yes! Exactly!” Tariq exclaimed with a vigorous nod. Clearly, he was waiting for a different sort of response.

“You know, some people just have really sharp canines,” Marc said, apparently interested enough in the conversation to temporarily get past his resistance to it in the first place. “Are you sure it wasn’t just that?”

“Nuh-uh. These things were bonafide fangs, all long and stuff and poking into his lip and everything!”

“Do ghosts even have fangs?” Dylan asked. “I thought they were supposed to be all gooey and stuff inside. Or something, anyway. I guess the two ghosts from last week weren’t super gooey.” 

“Ghosts can present in a number of different ways,” Linh-Nhu said, re-launching into her teacher voice. “Many are humanoid, like Technus and Phantom - the two from the ‘data breach’ you’re talking about. Some are more blob-like, others are more like animals. Really, they can take any form, as far as I’m aware.”

“Oh! Oh! What about that thing they can do where they can possess people?”

Linh-Nhu hummed. “I don’t know if that would necessarily alter a person’s appearance. Usually the ghost takes over the person from the inside to avoid detection. I don’t know much else about that, though. I suppose there were a number of students and teachers who were possessed during that first major ghost attack, but they didn’t show any physical signs, I think.”

“So then he is a ghost?” Tariq asked.

“I still think we need to wait to make calls like this until we have certain proof,” Marc said, his chin propped up on his arms lying on the table. “I might not be from here, but I’ve been here long enough to see that one couple, the… Fontaines? Finleys? I’m not sure. Either way, I don’t want to lose my job and find myself on the wrong end of one of those guns.”

“But if he’s a ghost, or possessed by one - whatever - shouldn’t we tell someone?” Katarana frowned. “Like the one ghost kid who stopped Techno-babble or whoever it was.”

Linh-Nhu laughed lightly. “I’d be impressed if you could track him down. He’s a slippery one.”

Dylan suddenly slammed her hands on the table, startling the other four interns. “I got it!” she shouted. Her voice drew the attention of a few other employees sitting nearby.

“Think about it!” she continued. “Those fancy suits, the whole white-hair-at-the-age-of-40 thing, now the literal fangs and have you seen how pale that man is? There’s an obvious answer: Vlad Masters is a vampire!”

The table fell into a stunned silence again.

“Well, at least he’s a vampire who pays his interns,” said an utterly defeated Marc, letting his head fall back into his arms.

[songmingisthighs]

Ignominy

introduction pt. i | pt. ii | pt. iii

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ch. lxxviii - private matter

hybrid!san × human!reader

buy me coffee ?

everyone wants to belong, it's basic human need to connect with people around them. what happens when you're responsible for someone who belongs to two worlds but at the same time belongs to neither ? worst part is, what happens when it's your ex ?

It was odd for Seungcheol to see the work floor so empty. Usually, the science department never took a day off when there were no public holidays. But knowing that the company was in a rather dire situation, Seungcheol didn't think much about it and just went in as he usually would.

It had been a while since he worked at the company for his own company's gain and frankly, he liked the vibe in High Breed. Truly, an inspiration as to how he wants his own company to be. He was sure he could achieve it and he was sure that if anyone were to achieve it, he would be able to do it. The proof is in the pudding, he had managed to save a company that was two and a half weeks away from official bankruptcy and even get enough money to buy his uncle out. Seungcheol was a born businessman and it was a true testimony of what the Choi's nature and nurture can do.

"Took you a while,"

Seungcheol jolted slightly as he opened the lab door, not expecting to see his cousin San to be sitting on the supervisor's chair whilst twiddling his thumb. "Fuck, you scared me," Seungcheol huffed, closing the door and standing in the middle of the room, "What are you doing here? I thought you were on administrative leave indefinitely?" San's ear twitched at the mention of him being put on administrative leave and he had to fight off the urge to smirk and immediately punch the guy down to the ground. But he held it in. For now.

San shook his head and sighed, leaning back into the rather comfortable chair, "Technically I'm... Working from home, administrative leave is just something the HR director put on my file to appease the investigators, making it seem like I won't interfere which I intend to do until this whole damn shit blows over." At the mention of the HR director and his file, Seungcheol visibly stiffen and he even tried to mask it by turning his back on San and pretending to check the nearby file which upon inspection, was not even a work file whatsoever as he saw it was a doodle someone (most likely Yunho) made of a monkey riding a dog like a horse. Though usually, Seunghceol wouldn't care much about random doodles anywhere and whatever it is, San's presence made him want to have a full-blown thesis defence. But of course, that was not why San came in the first place.

"But to answer your question, I actually came here because I have some things I want to ask you," San stood up from his seat and walked over to Seungcheol, "Something I think you know concerning the current issue at hand." Seungcheol started getting nervous and the closer San gets, the more Seungcheol tried to move away to avoid being in near proximity. "Have you... Noticed anything weird about my employees?" San asked, casually trapping Seungcheol in a position where if he move more, San would DEFINITELY know something was up. Well, little did he know. "Employees?" Seunghceol raised an eyebrow at his younger cousin, "Can't say I do because I only worked with a few of them for my project and even then, I can't say I'm that close as to know what constitutes as... 'weird'." Now San knows his cousin quite well and when he rambles like that, he got him cornered. "Well, what about Yunho and Yeosang? You've seen them a handful of times at gigantic family events before and they're in your team. How have they been?" Seungcheol cleared his throat and pretended to fix and organize some things, completely avoiding eye contact but still responding to San. "Like I said, I don't really pay much attention," in Seungcheol's mind, he was trying to find ways to rush the conversation but not because he was afraid of getting caught. No, he just wanted to finish the conversation so he could go back to pretending like he knew and did nothing.

But at the awareness of how evasive he was being, Seungcheol looked up and unlike before, stared at San dead in the eyes, "Do you think they have something to do with your employees accessing files by hacking into stuff?"

San didn't think it would be that easy to catch Seungcheol in the act. For a guy who has been mining company secrets through illegal tapping for the past several weeks, he sure does get sloppy when he cockily thinks he's going to get away with it. "How'd you know we were hacked?"

Fuck.

It didn't occur to him that San hadn't said anything about hacking. Seungcheol's eyes widened and he replied with the first thing that popped into his head with a dismissive laugh as his eyes once again drop to the desk, "Please, you talking about this issue to me personally? I can only imagine Yunho and Yeosang were involved," San raised an eyebrow challengingly at his cousin, "How'd you know Yunho and Yeosang were involved?" he challengingly asked. Seungcheol had to force his breathing to slow down to not panic at San's retort. "I mean they're your friends, I'm just saying their names as a representation of your whole friend group," he shrugged. "Really? Are you sure it's not because you know exactly what happened because you have something to do with it?"

Seungcheol didn't like the tone of San's voice. It was (rightfully) accusatory and judging. "What is that supposed to mean?" the older man scoffed in disbelief. San rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, "Oh, come on hyung, let's not debase ourselves by pretending you don't know what exactly I'm talking about. You're smart enough to know I've caught you and you're smart enough to know that I have all the proof I needed." Any normal person would be sweating, getting scared or nervous over how relaxed San was considering what they did was something of a criminal offence. But no, as a wolf hybrid, especially as a Choi, Seungcheol has a significantly higher pride.

They both stared each other down; San challengingly wanting to get to the bottom of the issue and Seungcheol wanting to uphold his pride. For a moment, that was all they did. Until a smirk broke on Seungcheol's face, surprising San slightly as his facial expression faltered momentarily. "God, you really are such a goody-goody, aren't you?" he said mockingly. It was San's turn to not like Seungcheol's tone and he showed it, his chest puffed up and he stood straighter, shoulders squaring and eyes narrowing. "You found out I did something bad and you just HAD to swoop in heroically as if to make a point," Seungcheol scoffed. San stared at his older cousin in disbelief, "You leaked my private information to the press and made BASELESS accusations of my company whilst working in it for your own gain," San said matter-of-factly. "Rhetorics," San's fists balled at how easily Seungcheol waved the fact that he was so close to ruining someone's entire livelihood, "Point is, I want to show the world, and especially to Grandpa, how you're handling the company that you were oh so graciously given for absolutely no reason at all."

At the mention of their grandpa, San's furrowed eyebrows and narrowed eyes that showed the intensity of his anger and frustration melted into one of confusion. "What does Grandpa have to do with this?" he asked. "What doesn't he have to do with this? He made the wrong choice by giving the company to you because it's obvious that you don't have what it takes, you don't know what you're doing and obviously, under your care, your company is crumbling." With each word spoken, Seungcheol's voice got louder and with each passing moment it became obvious that Seungcheol had a lot pent up. San was about to reply but Seungcheol just kept going on and on with his rant. "I really don't get why Grandpa would just give you a position like that at his company. And not just you, our other cousins too. You all barely did anything and you were all just being handed everything on a silver platter without considering anyone else. I don't get why I, one of the oldest, cousins, had to work my ass off developing a failed company from the ground up and even then I got nothing, not even an acknowledgement or even scorn from Grandpa."

It took San a moment to completely comprehend what Seungcheol was saying because he was sure that he had somehow misheard him or something. Surely his cousin couldn't be this stupid, could he? The cousin had just stated that because their Grandpa had said nothing about his work to him directly, he was so hellbent on ruining his entire life. How can he not account for the fact that in the family, he's the cousin that's known to be such a huge success for being able to salvage a whole company with almost nothing?

"You have to be the stupidest person ever." Seungcheol's neck tensed and without sparing a moment, he pushed a nearby chair so hard to the floor that it made such a huge noise and one of the legs bent. "What the fuck did you just say?" "You have to be the stupidest person ever because you know so little about general knowledge for a person who knew how to be such a great success." The initial anger after San called him stupid dissipated and turned into confusion and he did nothing but stood on his spot, confused. "Hyung, you're one of the pride and joy of our family and even Grandpa said it, just not in front of you because he thinks complimenting anyone in front of them will just inflate their ego and then they will let themselves go because they received even just the tiniest bit of compliment. Trust me, I myself have never heard him compliment me to my face unless it's in front of non-family members to make a show. And for the record, Grandpa didn't give me my position because High Breed doesn't belong to Grandpa, it belongs to my parents so he didn't get a say in it. He only has 3 main companies and its subsidiaries but High Breed isn't one of them. So our cousins got their position and achievements here based on their merits, they were given the exact same treatment as any other employees and maybe even slightly worse because scrutiny is obviously needed so really, all of the crap you pulled were absolutely baseless. You thought you knew something and you ran with it, jumping into conclusions and pulling the trigger so quick, things just turned to shit. Things that weren't supposed to happen, happened because of you and it damn near ruined someone. You're already so successful in your own field in your own way, so this? What you've been doing to me? Is completely unnecessary and it will end up just hurting you."

Seungcheol was left stunned.

Embarrassment coursed through his body and he felt dread. It was true, he hadn't taken into account the possibility that maybe, just MAYBE, the situation isn't what it seemed and that he was wrong about what he initially thought he knew. Surely, he could've gone straight to his cousin or even talked to the other cousins be it San or not San. The thoughts running through Seungcheol's head seemed visible to San as his posture relaxed as he let out a long sigh, "I used to look up to you hyung. But when you started taking over for your current company and tore yourself away from us, I saw nothing but someone who is bitter and jealous despite his own magnificent achievements. It was as if your own self-acceptance wasn't enough, as if you did what you did so other people will give you recognition and frankly it's sad, hyung. It's sad for such a successful person to need affirmation from people he viewed as less than." he stated, leaving his older cousin speechless.

Though San got the answer he was looking for, he realized that it didn't feel as good as he hoped it would. Sure, questions were answered, but he was just disappointed that the situation got so out of hand for such a stupid reason. Maybe there was even a smidge of disappointment after he realized that his hyung could've come to him for help or to talk it out. San was not a perfect person, obviously, but he sure would have tried to do something. Granted, he wasn't completely himself a while ago, but still.

Before any of them could talk, San decided that he was done with the interaction and turned his body around to leave after letting Seungcheol hear what he was going to do next. "I'm gonna need you to clear your physical stuff in an hour or else the security will escort you out. Whatever files you have in our database will be sent over but I, as a representative of High Breed, retract our aid for your MFDS application and the progress of said application to MFDS will be retracted immediately pending legal involvement and a decision as to how this situation will be handled. And don't even try to do anything stupid, we have CCTV everywhere and there's a 24-hour automatic camera recording of activities in this lab."

"You're right," Seungcheol added suddenly, halting San in his steps just before he could get out of the room, "What I did was stupid." San was torn between turning around and giving his full attention to his cousin or just ignoring him completely, refusing whatever he had to say which he assumed was an excuse for his behaviour. So San stayed in his position, hoping it would pass soon enough and he could go conclude the mess that was still growing bigger. "But how could you talk to me about jumping the gun and creating a mess that should've never existed after what you did to (y/n)?" Seungcheol smirked.

Chills ran down San's back and his head whipped so hard and fast, he swore he got a whiplash as an impact. It was Seungcheol's turn to look cocky after seeing the look on San's face, visibly seeing the realization sinking into his brain. "Didn't you start your punishment on her that led to her resigning before you even realized what was going on?"

With shaky hands, San pointed at his hyung, trying to figure out what to say to him as he was left rather dumbfounded. As hard as he tried, San couldn't seem to get the exact words out. His bottom lip trembled and his throat felt dry, he wanted to defend himself for what he did but even he knew that it was no use, his action was inexcusable and frankly rather pathetic after realizing the truth.

"Get the fuck out before the hour ends," was all San said before rushing out, leaving Seungcheol who looked so satisfied despite everything, alone to clear out. His feet took him to the elevator back to his office as quickly as they can, he couldn't even remember if he pressed the button or not but it didn't matter, not really anyways. When the door shut, San had to brace himself on the railing, the realization of his action weighed heavily in his mind as if anchoring him down to the ground. A sudden wave of nausea passed and he couldn't help but punch a dent into the elevator wall before pressing his forehead to the cold surface, closing his eyes in hopes that he could calm himself down.

"Good fucking grief, Choi San, what have you done again?"

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[stuff-plus-textposts]

Nothing At All is a Good Song

Nothing At All is a song from How To Dance In Ohio the musical that I really really like. I have this whole animatic to it mapped out in my head, but I haven't got the skill or patience to actually draw it. But the song's singer Desmond Edwards said that they would want to read the outline I've written, so here it is! It's very long and I'm sorry.

I work in a lab at a hospital, and this is about my job.

I walk into the lab, into the break room, and put my purse down. On “It’s not like I’m shocked by the ableist cliches, but they do make me tired,” I reach into my purse and put on a barrette (which I actually wear everyday). The barrette then turns red and becomes a wisp of smoke following me. 

“Do I only exist on this planet to make somebody else feel inspired?” I’m grabbing a lab coat from the closet when the wisp flies away from me, I turn to follow it and see one of my coworkers waving at me. Said coworker is drawn with no eyes or nose, just a mouth and eyebrows - everyone in the animatic is drawn like this except for myself. I wave awkwardly back. 

“I’m no object of pity, and if that’s what you see, then clearly you aren’t seeing me” the camera circles around me, showing a hallway that looks like I’ve made it longer for dramatic effect but that actually is that long, and then pans around so you can see my face as I start walking down the hall towards the core lab. 

I pretend to be my own OCs a lot, so the characters I turn into are my own characters. As I turn into each one, the wisp of red smoke becomes an article of clothing on them. First is Jaimy, who has a big red bow. Then Tris, who has a red ring, and finally Jada, who has a red headband. As the line gets to “today’s look is nothing, nothing at all” I fade back into my normal self with the wisp of smoke at my shoulders, and walk over to my work station. I type at my computer with the wisp curling over my wrists, I grab a pneumatic tube that’s just come in with the smoke curling around the tube and my hands. 

“I try to have patience meeting folks where they’re at” I sit at my chair talking to my boss, who is on one knee in front of me because she's really tall. “But this gets under my skin” she stands up to walk away. “Cause if you’re writing about me, then getting to know me should be where you begin” my boss goes over to one of my coworkers, a guy who acts like and is treated like he’s a supervisor even though he’s not, and says something. The two of them look directly at me, then back at each other. 

“It’s so condescending assuming the worst” We see my hand reaching towards a piece of paper on a printer, which is me attempting to do an assignment that I’m capable of doing but don’t have permission to do. The wisp of smoke curls around my hand and pulls it back, forcing me to turn away and see my boss. I glare daggers at her but that’s all I can do. 

“When I’m Wanda Maximoff” My glare fades and I turn into my OC Taylor, the red wisp becoming a wand in my hand. “I can change my own reality” using the wand, I open up a centrifuge and remove the tubes of blood to float in front of me. Unlike most of the animatic, which is black and white, the tubes are in color. They’ve been spun already so you can clearly see the red blood cells at the bottom, the separator gel, and the plasma/serum on top. Some of the tubes have light green tops and some have gold tops (if you’re curious what I’m talking about, look up centrifuged blood gold top). “When I’m Gaga I’m ready to rehearse” I change into my OC Jodie, stepping forward into a pirouette, the red wisp turns into a rehearsal skirt, and the tubes of blood are still floating in front of me. “When I’m Miles Morales I really do believe I am a superhero in the multiverse” I change into my OC Cytherea and start to float, the wisp becomes glowing red eyes, and for a moment the tubes of blood turn into crystals in front of me. “But todays look is nothing, nothing at all” I morph back into myself and come back down to the ground. The tubes of blood become tubes of blood again and return to my hands. The red wisp goes back to being a red wisp at my shoulders. 

“Then come the voices of doubt saying right on cue” we see the core lab, where my coworkers are doing regular core lab stuff, like typing at computers and putting stuff into machines. “This world will never make space for people like you” my coworkers all look at me, now looking angry, and now shaded red. I take a step back. “I see my past rejections framed and hung on the wall” The tubes of blood fall out of my hands, not like I dropped them or anything but just like in a floaty way. I also start to float as the background becomes black behind me, and we see representations drawn in red of various crappy things that have happened to me. This includes F’s on papers, children laughing at me, and mean quotes people have said to me. They scroll by in the background. 

“And I wish I felt nothing, nothing at all” I start crying and I curl up into a ball. The background changes to say in giant red letters “Autism.” But then the red disappears from the actual word, turning it white; the red becomes becomes the wisp again, circling around my whole body. “Nothing at all” the black background fades, leaving me in a cloud of red. “So sick of good intentions, that only make me feel small” still surrounded by the cloud. I look up and see the lab in front of me, except I am literally small now, and it is huge. “Your good intentions all add up to” I fall to my knees with my hands over my ears. “Nothing at all” suddenly I am normal sized again, holding the tubes of blood like I was before. I shake my head a little bit and look startled, as if I was trying to shake myself back to reality after zoning out. 

In the instrumental break, I walk over to one of the stations in the core lab and put the tubes of blood in the rack. Then I’m seen getting my purse and leaving the lab. 

“That’s why tomorrow night I will not be at the formal dance” we see me driving home, coming inside, and walking upstairs to pull out my laptop. “though I’ve worked hard to get there all this year.” The red wisp settles around my shoulders, still weird and wispy but not floating anymore, just resting. I take a deep breath and open my laptop. “That’s right, tomorrow night I will be doing my first livestream” I open up a zoom meeting entitled ‘Ableism in the workplace’ and click join, “to discuss the controversy further here!” I wave at the people in the meeting, and you can see the clock behind me displaying the time 5:30. “Cause the whole conversation” we see a girl wearing noise cancelling headphones talking on the screen. “Needs a huge overhaul.” We see a boy talking on the screen. “And if we simply do nothing.” I wave again, and you can see that the clock reads 6:30 now. I close the laptop and look sad. The red wisp starts to float again “nothing will change at all.” The wisp becomes a single red tear which falls down my cheek. 

In the final instrumental, I wipe the tear away. My hand stays on my face as I move it up to rub at my head, like I’m pushing my hair away from my face. When I pull my hand away, the red is gone and it has turned back into the barrette that I put on at the beginning. I set the barrette down on top of my laptop, alongside my employee badge, and stand up to walk away. The end.

Don't worry though, this makes my job sound awful, but it's actually really cool and most of my coworkers don't suck. This is a picture taken for lab week a few weeks ago, I'm the white girl sitting in the front :)

@wakanda-never I hope you like it! I know it isn't exactly what the song is about, but it's what it makes me feel. Thank you for everything you did with HTDIO, it's one of my favorite musicals ever because it makes me feel so seen.

[aniron48]

24. just really needed a hug sort of hug for 00leiter would be amazing if inspiration strikes! 🥰

Alex, mi vida! Thank you for always inspiring and indulging my deep-seated need for 00leiter, and thank you for this prompt. 🥰 Your wish is my command, my friend! It's here, continuing below the cut, as well as on ao3:

sometimes it takes the night to fall

“My mother wanted me to go to law school,” Felix says. His tone is measured, and this, this, is something he’s going to include in his annual performance review at the Agency, which his supervisor signs every year without reading a word: Agent Leiter is calm and measured, even when he is soaking wet, covered in pink feathers, and holding a flash drive with the plans for a chemical weapon designed to take out half of Europe, circumstances which Agent Leiter would have avoided entirely had his MI6 counterpart not been a fucking asshole.

“‘You’ll make good money, son,’ she would tell me,” Felix says. He pulls his Glock out of his holster, pointing it toward the floor to let the water drain from the barrel. “‘You’ll wear nice suits.’ But no, I knew better. I didn’t want to take the motherfucking bar exam.”

“You wear nice suits now, Felix,” Bond drawls, looking him up and down, and Felix is either going to punch or kiss that look off his face, but he hasn’t decided which, yet.

“Normally, I would agree with you, James,” Felix says. Measuredly, again, because he’s a goddamn station chief for the CIA. “But right now, my nice suit looks like it survived simultaneous explosions at a poultry farm and a Pepto-Bismol factory.”

Felix had had plans for their mission in Prague, plans which involved a timeline, and coordinates on a map, and the judicious use of SIGINT. James Bond had had instincts, and even if those instincts had been accurate, as far as identifying the Belarusian middleman they were looking for went, his methods left a lot to be desired, seeing as they primarily involved a chase through a crowded craft fair in the center of town, followed by what could charitably be called hijacking a bachelorette cruise in order to chase said middleman down the Vltava River. And now here they were, on a deserted dock in a decidedly seedy part of town, mercifully free of bachelorettes, but with an unconscious henchman tied to an oil barrel behind them, waiting for the ride that would take them not to their warm, comfortable hotel room near Karluv Most, but to the U.S. Embassy, where Felix could hand off the hard drive and then spend the rest of the night filling out the ream of paperwork required after the sort of nuclear-grade shitshow James Bond tended to leave behind him on a good night.

“I think I know what you need, Felix,” Bond says, and the way his mouth turns up at the corner can’t mean anything good.

“What I need,” Felix says, “is not to be picking penis-shaped confetti out of my beard.”

“No,” Bond says, stepping closer, and if the British exfil team doesn’t get there soon, Felix is going to paddle to the Embassy on a goddamn inflatable canoe, “No, that’s not it.” 

He brings a hand to the back of Felix’s head, drawing him in close. “Why don’t you start by putting your arm around my waist.”

They’re Felix’s own words from years ago, directed back at him with Bond’s characteristically lethal precision. Not long after the events in Bolivia, Felix had flown into London for the memorial service of another MI6 colleague who had died in the line of duty. Later, after everyone else had left, he’d joined Bond where he stood in the back of the church, stiff with grief and the bone-deep chill of the British winter.

“She drowned, you know,” Bond had said, his tone conversational. “004, I mean. She deserved better. It’s a terrible way to go.”

Bond and Felix had been lovers for mere weeks at that point, if that designation even applied to the handful of hours they’d stolen in South American hotel rooms and, on one memorable occasion, the lost luggage room of a train station in the middle of nowhere. But Felix wasn’t an idiot. He’d been in Venice when Vesper died. Even then, he’d known Bond well enough to know what wounds would be fatal to him, if left untreated.

“It is,” Felix had said. He hadn’t dared to say much of anything else. “I’m sorry for your loss, James.”

“It’s England’s loss,” Bond had said. He’d already begun to go distant around the edges, all of the lines of his body tensed for a fight. Felix had wanted nothing more than to demand Bond come back with him to his hotel room, to fuck him fast and merciless until all the tension bled from his body, until he was easy and louche again, unspooled against the Egyptian cotton sheets. But his first instinct with Bond wasn’t always the right one, back then, and he’d looked at Bond in silence for a long moment before making his decision.

“Come here,” he’d said. “I’m going to give you a hug.”

Bond had looked at Felix like he’d just suggested they piss in the baptismal font. “A what?”

“A hug, Bond. Jesus Christ. Come here.” He’d pulled Bond in by the lapel of his expensive wool coat. “You start by putting your arm around my waist, like that. Then you put your other arm around my shoulders. Like this, asshole. And then—” Felix had squeezed with all his might. “Then you hold on tight.”

They are here, now, tonight—and by “here” Felix means Prague, means the dock, means covered in dirty river water and the detritus of phallus-shaped souvenirs, but he also means so much more than that—in no small part because all those years ago, his own instincts had been right when he’d taken James Bond in his arms in an empty church, and so as angry as he is, he’s powerless to deny James this, now. He gives in to the inevitable and steps into the embrace, dropping his head against James’s neck.

“I hate you,” he says, but there’s no longer any heat in it. “This was the worst night of my career.”

“The ladies liked it,” Bond says.

“The ‘ladies’ thought we were strippers. One of them threw her drink on me when I refused to take my shirt off.”

“The night is still young,” Bond points out. Felix refuses to turn his head to look at him, on principle, but he can feel Bond’s smile against his cheek.

“Fuck you and your entire country,” Felix says. “I’m glad we threw your fucking tea in the harbor.” But his head is still on Bond’s shoulder, and his arms are around his waist, and he’ll stay that way until the sound of a distant motor signals that their ride is near, and the night moves on around them.