#this was my immediate thought after hearing what rat says at the end

[fox0war]

You are the one who lived, Rat, and you must not destroy yourself for it, make her proud by continuing to survive, she wanted you to survive

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

To protect something precious one must be willing to do anything

A dad!Vander fic (with my og character, Luna, Vander's fifth adopted child)

Set before Act 1.1.

Masterlist: there you go

Disclaimer: english ain't my first language folks

The Last Drop was quieter than usual, the low hum of conversations and clinking glasses a dull echo of its typical rowdy energy. The tension in the Undercity was rising. Whispers of the enforcers' movements trickled through the streets like oil ready to catch fire. Vander had kept an eye on it all, but tonight, he just wanted the evening to end quietly.

Luna had begged to stay upstairs with him while he tidied up the bar. Powder had already gone to bed, and Vi had promised to keep the others in line, though her tone suggested otherwise.

“Can I help, Vander?” Luna asked, perched on a barstool far too big for her.

“You can sit there and keep me company,” Vander replied with a faint smile, wiping down a mug. “That’s a big enough job for now, Lu.”

She nodded solemnly, as though she'd been given an important task, and began doodling on a scrap piece of paper. For a while, everything felt normal.

Then the front doors creaked open.

Vander looked up sharply, his hand stilling. The figure that slipped through the doorway was unmistakable: his dark coat swept the floor, and his mismatched eyes gleamed even in the dim light.

A man both respected and feared in the undercity. Whispers of his name were only heard in the darkest of corners. To Vander, he had once been a friend. Not anymore.

Silco.

Luna looked up from her paper, frowning curiously at the stranger. Vander’s chest tightened, but his voice stayed calm as he said, “I thought rats knew to stay out of my bar.”

Silco didn’t respond immediately. He closed the door behind him, his steps measured as he approached the counter. He seemed to take in the room—its emptiness, its stillness—before his gaze landed on Luna.

The girl blinked at him, wide-eyed but not yet afraid. Silco tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t realize you’d started a daycare, Vander.”

“Leave her out of this,” Vander said curtly, stepping around the counter between Silco and Luna’s line of sight. “What do you want? You know very well you’re not welcomed here.” his right hand clenched, the scar on his arm burning as if it was still a fresh cut.

Silco smirked, his good eye narrowing. “Straight to business, then. Fair enough.” He leaned casually against a stool, unbothered by Vander’s looming figure. “I came to talk about the enforcers.”

Vander didn’t flinch, but his grip tightened on the rag in his hand. He turned to Luna then, picking her up without a word from the barstool and setting her on the ground. “Go downstairs, will you kiddo?”

“But you said I could stay with you while you cleaned up,” she pouted, looking up at him with her big eyes, ignoring the stranger Vander didn’t seem to like.

“I’m almost done anyways. Come on, I’ll be downstairs in a minute to tuck you in.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

She huffed, but obeyed, heading for the basement.

She was curious, though. Too curious.

Luna had started to learn to sneak around thanks to her siblings. And she was good at it. It also helped that she was a small thing, which made it easy to hide in tiny crooks and creaks invisible to anyone who wasn’t looking for her (and also, sometimes, even when they were looking).

She walked downstairs and opened the door to her and her sibling’s room, but she closed it again without entering, staying silent in front of it. When she didn’t see Vander peaking through the door upstairs to see if she was still there, she tiptoed her way back up, making sure to not step on any creaky floor board.

Hidden from view, standing right behind the doorframe to the bar, she could hear Vander’s and the man’s voices just right.

“She seems like a sweet thing,” she heard the stranger say, letting out a light chuckle. “Seems to be taking after you.”

“Cut the small talk, Silco,” Vander’s voice was hard, impatient, uninterested, in a way Luna had never heard him before. “What’s it with the enforcers that has made you come all the way here knowing you aren’t welcomed?”

“They’ve been sticking their noses deeper and deeper into the Undercity.” Silco’s tone was soft but deliberate, dripping with the same quiet menace as always. “Your people are starting to wonder what you’re going to do about it. And I am asking myself the same.”

Vander didn’t answer.

Silco smiled thinly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “I’ve been hearing rumours. Word has it you’ve been awfully quiet, Vander. It makes me wonder… Do you have a plan? Or are you just hoping the enforcers’ interest will go away on its own?”

Vander met his gaze, unwavering. “I’m handling it.”

“Handling it?” Silco echoed, amused. He tapped two fingers on the bar thoughtfully. “And what does that mean? Shaking hands with the enforcers? Hoping they’ll play nice?”

Vander’s jaw tensed. He didn’t respond. He wouldn’t give Silco the satisfaction.

For a moment, the only sound was the slow drip of a leaky pipe in the corner.

Silco’s attention moved to the door Luna had disappeared into a few minutes ago, catching the glimpse of a loose strand of hair peeking from behind the doorframe. He didn’t say anything, but his expression softened, though the shift was more unsettling than reassuring.

“You’ve built quite the family here,” Silco said, his voice quieter. “But you can’t shield them forever, Vander. The world doesn’t care how tightly you hold onto them. It will take them anyway.”

Vander’s eyes flashed with anger. “Stay away from my family.”

Silco straightened, smoothing out his coat with a casual gesture. “Of course. You’ve made yourself clear.” His lips curled into a faint, sardonic smile. “But let me give you a warning, old friend: the enforcers won’t play by your rules. If you’ve struck some foolish deal to keep them at bay… well, it won’t last. It never does. I, on the other hand, plan to handle them keeping the upper hand. I suggest, solely because of the old friendship that connects us, that you do the same if you want to keep your… family, safe.”

Before Vander could reply, Silco turned on his heel, striding toward the door. He paused with his hand on the handle and glanced back.

“To protect something precious,” he said softly, almost as though to himself, “one must be willing to do anything.”

Then he left, the door clicking shut behind him.

Vander let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Luna ran down the stairs as quickly and silently as she could, opening and closing the door to the basement room the same way. She ran to her cot, seeing her siblings already deep in sleep, and she waited for Vander.

He didn’t take long, as he had promised.

Vander looked more tired than a few minutes ago, but he managed to smile at her softly, making the little wrinkles by his eyes deeper. He sat down next to Luna after pulling her covers all the way up to her neck, and he smoothed her hair down the side of her head, resting his warm palm on her cheek.

“Ready to sleep?”

Her voice broke the silence, answering with another question “Who was that man?”

Vander forced his face into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “No one you need to worry about, Lu.”

She frowned. “He looked scary.”

Vander huffed a quiet laugh, though it held no humor. “He wants to look that way, trust me. It’s how he gets what he wants.” His thumb brushed softly against her cheek as if trying to wipe away the thought of Silco entirely. “But you don’t need to worry about him. It’s late, and you’re safe here.”

“Promise?” Luna whispered, the word small but heavy, searching his face for certainty.

Vander paused. For a moment, he seemed far away, as though the weight of the entire Undercity hung around his shoulders. But then his hand lingered a little longer on her face, warm and solid, grounding her as much as himself.

“Promise,” he said at last, his voice steady, quiet, true.

Luna let out a tiny sigh, her body relaxing back into the cot. Vander stayed with her for a little while longer, watching her eyelids droop, her breathing slow. When he was sure she’d fallen asleep, he rose to his feet with the practiced quiet of a man who had tucked in children a thousand times before.

He stood at the door for a moment, looking back. The sight of her and the others—Luna curled into the tiny space they’d carved out of a brutal world, Vi and Powder cuddling as they slept, Mylo’s soft snores and even Claggor’s feet starting to dangle out of the bed—filled him with a fierce, wordless resolve.

Silco’s wrong, he thought, clenching his scarred hand at his side. I can keep them safe. I will. He had made a deal with Grayson. He’d keep the undercity under control, and she’d help keep the trouble far. He’d stick to the deal, even if it went against the morals he had defended most, if not all of his life, for the five kids sleeping in that basement he was standing it. He had to.

Vander stepped back into the hallway, ignoring the faint echo of Silco’s words on him like a shadow. The world doesn’t care how tightly you hold onto them.

He’d just have to make sure to hold onto them tight enough.

Taglist: @keira7664@starryhiraeth @eternallyvenus

[yanderelovlies]

Note: I know in my heart of hearts Halsin wouldn't be a Yandere, but like 😳😳

Warning: Slight NSFW and yandere tendencies

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character: Halsin

Pairing: Halsin x gn!reader

At camp, he would watch you interact with all the companions. He never said anything, but there were few he didn't like around you, afraid they would corrupt you. When you weren't in eyesight, he hoped thoughts of you would subside, but they never did. If anything, he thought of you more, especially when he is alobe in his tent at night stroking his cock to said thoughts of you.

When you had saved him from the goblins, helped the Grove, and helped him bring the shadow curse to an end. Halsin knew you were good. He would even go as far as to say you were too good for this world. The light and warmth you brought to the world was something deemed that needed to be protected at all costs. So he joined your cause, throwing himself in any danger to protect you. To make sure some absolute cultists or Gith didn't take you.

While traveling, he always sizes up who you're talking to for both intentions and weakness. He immediately steps in if he doesn't like where the conversation is going or the intentions of the person. He has to use all his strength not to butt in or lung when talking with Orin and Gortash. He loaths the emperor even more.

These protective and obsessive behaviors were new to Halsin. He always believed himself to be like his bear counterpart. Never mating for life, always roaming, and yet... When he sits at the campfire watching you play with the owlbear cub and the dog Scratch under the stars he can't help but want to keep you for himself.....away from anyone who wants to taint the pure goodness in you.

Eventually, his actions began to mirror his thoughts as he began to occupy all of your attention in and out of camp. He would even get the help of the Owl bear cub, scratch, and some local critters from wyrmscrossing and Baldur's Gate.

Shadowheart wants to share a bottle of wine with you? Not anymore, the Owl bear knocked it out of your hand, trying to get you to play with him, which he was successful with. Astarion wanting a little late night nibble from your beautiful neck? Not any more if scratch has something to say about it. Gale, trying to talk to you? Oh well, he was till a rat climbed up his trousers.

Anytime you tried to spend with any other companion was redirected most times in Halsin's direction. If not his, then Owl bear and Scratch. They are the only ones Halsin trusts. The other companions take notice but are unable to approach you to question or point out. They can barely get a word in during a fight.

Eventually, Halsin tells you his more domestic feelings. "You are all my heart wants. All it desires. Please tell me you feel the same." Anxiety rolls off of him as he waits for your response. What will he do if you reject him. He, of course, will respect your choice, but...He can't let you go....can he? The longer he waits, the longer his thoughts spiral down a dark path he was never treaded before.

When you accept his face lights with joy. His dark thoughts long forgotten. All he can think about is kissing you. So much so that he forgets to ask before pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. It was better than he ever imagined. He was becoming addicted.

Halsin had to pull away before he lost all control and devoured you on the spot. "It's makes me so happy to hear you feel the same my heart..." His large callous hand holds your soft face as he rests his forehead against yours. It was at this moment that he swore to Silvanus that after the defeat of the Absolute, he was going to take you away. Away from those who wish to take advantage of your kindness. Away from a world full of cruel beings. Away to were he can cherish and love you without fear.

You will be safe and tucked away like all of Silvanus's special gifts.

[stellarspecter]

STWG daily prompt 8/2/24: hanahaki

wc: 737 | pairing: pre-steddie, platonic stobin | read on ao3

this takes place in a world with chronic hanahaki! so it doesn't kill you, it just makes you kind of sick for a bit until it becomes requited or you get over them. most people end up getting it at least once in their lives.

“Got a crush, dingus?”

Steve stares at the retreating back of Eddie Munson, jingling through the aisles as he juggles his car keys and his stack of newly-rented movies. “...You can't prove anything.”

Robin snorts. “The fact that you need to say that is proof enough.”

“No, it's not,” Steve pouts. Is he really so obvious?

“It literally is.” Robin rolls her eyes. “What's so special about him anyway? He's a drug dealer who looks like a wet rat. I didn't think that was your type.”

Steve sighs. “It's… not,” he concedes. “I think my type is passionate nerdy brunettes.”

Robin wrinkles her nose. “Ew.”

“He's not ugly or anything!” Steve cries. “He's cute. His hair could use some work, but his eyes are… so brown. And his lips…”

“Don't say so pink,” Robin groans.

Steve clears his throat instead of laughing. “Well, they are very pink.”

“Showstopping. Unexpected. Incredible. Who could have seen this coming,” she deadpans.

“Okay, so I'm not a poet or anything,” Steve gripes, “but I'm not wrong, either. There's just something about him…” He trails off, thinking about Eddie's smile, the way his eyes sparkle when he gets to talk about his music, the little flourishes he adds to every movement. Everything about him is captivating to Steve, and he just can't get his mind off of him.

“Ugh,” he hears Robin groan over his thoughts. “I'm not gonna stop hearing about Munson for a while, am I?”

“Not if you keep hanging arou—” He's cut off by a vicious cough. He keeps trying to clear his throat, but something's stuck in it and he can't get it out. Maybe part of his bagel from breakfast? Gross.

He keeps coughing, a concerning rattle that doesn't cease until he spits a few petals on the counter.

He and Robin stare at them in silence.

“Looks like he's not going away anytime soon,” Steve says weakly. His head thunks down on the counter, just inches away from the spit-soaked petals.

“I cannot fucking believe, out of all the people on this earth, you have hanahaki for Munson. Munson. Threepeat senior drug dealer Eddie Munson.”

Steve stays folded over, mentally going over every interaction he's had with him, because hanahaki? Really? 

But he's always fallen easily, hasn't he? It's not like it's his first time with it. He'd gotten it almost every year since seventh grade, infatuated with classmate after classmate. Tommy and Carol always made fun of him for it, but he couldn't help how he loved.

He just didn't expect this time to be Eddie Munson.

“Like I said,” he starts, peeling himself off the counter to meet eyes with Robin, “I think he's cute.”

She just scoffs. “You know I'm never gonna stop making fun of you for this, right? This is literally so embarrassing for you.”

“You know, I thought I'd end up getting hanahaki for you,” he casually tells her.

She gasps, her mind immediately taken off of Munson. “No!”

“Yeah,” he confirms with a sheepish smile. “I didn't, I think cause we got kidnapped before I got too serious about it. But I really expected you to be my hanahaki crush for that year.”

She's silent for a moment. “You know, I can't decide if that's endearing or concerning.”

“Decide on endearing, please,” he says, and she snaps her fingers.

“Done. Now, back to Munson.” 

Steve lays back down and despairs that the topic change didn’t distract her well enough. “Do we have to?”

“If you’re gonna get over your case of hanahaki, then yes,” she tells him.

“If I ignore it for long enough it goes away,” he mumbles.

“Or if you ask him out, it’s either requited and it goes away or he rejects you and it goes away.” Robin’s too smart for her own good, Steve thinks. He doesn’t think she’s even had hanahaki yet. “You know I’m right, dingus.”

“Why do you have to be so good at logic?” he grumbles, but turns to peek at her anyways.

She rolls her eyes and gets her arms under his armpits, hauling him upright. “Get it together, dingus, we’ve gotta figure out our plan to woo Munson and cure your hanahaki. You with me?”

“I’m with you,” Steve says. He presses his hands over his eyes hard for one, two, three seconds, then takes a deep breath and meets Robin’s gaze. “Okay. Let’s get these flowers gone.”

dividers by saradika-graphics!

[my-heart-beat-for-anime]

HIS SONGBIRD

Warning: english is not my first language, aemond is obsessed, mention of masturbation

Kings landing was always bustling, whether it was merchants offering their wares or whores luring passers-by into the house of pleasure. There were thousands of voices in the city, but recently there was one more that was louder and kinder than the others. A voice that used to sing for money, food, or a place to sleep. A voice that every innkeeper wished to have with him, because his sound attracted customers even from the outskirts of the city. Lately, the owner of the voice has been seen in very crowded marketplaces singing songs encouraging the common people to support the rightful Queen Rheanyra. These meetings were always ended by golden cloaks that began to make their way through the crowd, but the girl always miraculously evaporated in the adjacent alleys.

Aemond left the brothel in the early hours of the morning. He was tired, stayed up all night and told his woes to the madam in the brothel. He felt a little better, but he was still bothered by the fact that without the coin, the madam wouldn't even look at him. All he longed for was his soft bed with its silky, cool sheets. When he saw a female figure dancing and tapping a tambourine to the beat of a song. Her voice left him mesmerized, he was used to bards from the court, or the songs of dragons as they soared into the sky. Her voice felt like cold water after days of thirst, he listened to her voice so much that he didn't even realize the words of the song.

In the shadow of the palace, the people cry,

Underneath the gilded rooftops, where the hungry die.

Golden crowns and silver spoons, but empty plates,

While the children of the kingdom face their cruel fate.

From the throne, they preach of grace and charity,

But in the streets, there’s only pain and disparity.

Hey, King, can’t you see?

Your people starve while you feast.

Hey, Dowager Queen, hear our plea,

In your kingdom of the beast.

No more, no more, we won’t bow

We’re rising up, we’re shouting now.

These words, although not directed at him, angered him. How could this street rat say this about the royal family and how people seemed to agree with her.

And you know what they say don't make a dragon angry.,, Hey you, stop now.” he yelled at her. Her face immediately realized that silver hair meant trouble for her. Before he could blink, her dark blue skirt was already disappearing around the corner. He immediately ran after her, pushing several people out of his way. He couldn't even see her properly for several streets, he always caught a glimpse of her hair, or the edge of her purple scarf tied around her hips. In one street he thought he had lost her for good, when he heard the faint strumming of a tambourine coming from under the cloak of a veiled figure walking hand in hand with a little girl. He slowly followed them, the tall figure didn't turn, but the little girl periodically turned and watched him. When the figure, which turned out to be an unknown singer, finally approached them within two steps, she pushed the little girl into the next alley. “Run Jenny.” she called to her and ran into another alley that turned out to be a dead end.,, Now what about songbird, looks like you're trapped.” he taunted. "Don't worry, prince, I won't be in it for long," she snapped back at him. He didn't even realize it, but they were standing in an alley that housed a woodworking shop. A log was leaning against the wall that blocked the end of the street. Like a wild cat, the woman leaped onto that log and climbed onto the roof of the wall and kicked the log down so he couldn't climb up to her.,, Goodbye one eyed prince I hope you enjoyed my performance.” she taunted him.,, Once I will catch you and then your treacherous head will be exposed for all to see.” he cursed at her. "That sounds very good, you're very interesting Targaryen prince, maybe I'll write my next song about you." But before the girl could disappear, her scarf got caught on a piece of chipped wall, unfortunately the woman was already jumping to the other side of the wall, so her scarf remained gets stuck in the wall.

The next day, a new song about the one-eyed Targaryen was heard throughout the city.

Hey, Aemond, how’s it feel to be so bold? With all your fire, yet your heart is cold. Hey, Aemond, playing the warrior prince, We all laugh at your pretense. In the shadow of your brother, you try to stand tall, But you're just a puppet at the grandest ball. Scheming and plotting, with your dragon's might, But when it comes to bravery, you’re out of sight. You talk of honor, of strength and pride, But without your dragon, where do you hide?

Although the song offended him, something inside him warmed his heart. He made such an impression on her that she wrote a song about him. He could only smile and listen to her voice waft through the city as he pulled her scarf to his nose and breathed in her scent. It was a mix of herbs and smoke, the combination made his cock harden again, and his red head was already leaking some of his spending onto his stomach.

Oh, the next time he sees you won't run away from him, he'll keep you as his own little bird just for his pleasure, he'll put you in a golden cage so you'll never fly away from him again.

Pt.2????

If anyone have request i would be happy to write it for you.

And only best for you. kisses

[itsabouttimex2]

man I NEED to hear what you think about Bakugo

Alright I dropped MHA (because of Mineta, Bakugo, and Aizawa, mostly), so I’m going with maybe half the series in mind, but I’ll try to compose my thoughts on this pretty quickly, going of my own watching and some general pop-culture osmosis.

Katsuki Bakugo’s very existence in the story of My Hero Academia breaks an extremely important core message that the show tries to send- “You should intervene in situations when wrongdoing is occuring, even if the victim is “good” (eg: stoic, strong, handling it well, Shouto being extremely composed and powerful, Bakugo being attacked by the slime monster, Eri holding herself together in spite of everything she’s gone through) or “bad” (eg: unattractive, poor, manic, Shigaraki being turned up by the old lady, Toga being forced suppress herself), because even trying and failing or just reaching will at least make an impact or offer a light in that dark tunnel (All Might selecting Izuku after he saves Bakugo, Shouto accepting the fire half of his Quirk after Deku reaches out to him)-

In other words, “Meddling when you don't need to is the essence of being a hero!”

So when MHA shows me this whole cast of children who are supposed to be “the next generation of heroes” and expect me to root for them, I can’t help but note that none of them ever try and stop the violent bully in their midst. They might disapprove or refuse to engage, but there’s never a moment that any of these “heroes-to-be” say “Hmm. Maybe if someone is threatening the life of my kindly classmate- especially in a form as immediate as unleashing literal explosions at him and needed to be physically restrained, I should intervene.”

They, and almost all of the faculty and staff, ignore this legitimately unhinged and violent child running amok, are not “true heroes” by the messaging and morals of the narrative itself, because they sit on their asses and allow a bully (and Mineta, the rat fuck) to do as he pleases- when a reaction does occur, it’s more along the lines of scolding/laughing at a toddler for cursing/throwing a fit than “holy shit, this kid is a violent threat to at least one of our other students, we need to intervene now”.

I don’t know, maybe this is addressed later in the series, maybe Horikoshi pulls some crazy shit to justify it, that could be what happens by the end.

I just couldn’t watch to that point, if it does exist.

TLDR: Katsuki Bakugo you will never be Cristopher Skyline

[missfrustration]

a psychic walkthrough (reigen x fem!reader) 18+ **WITH AUDIO, NSFW**

A/N: hi friends! this is my first tumblr post, because only tumblr can embed the audio! audio was made with elevenlabs, and will be sprinkled in with the fanfiction. feel free to play or not while you read!

tags: 18+, mdni, pwp, nsfw, first-time sex, loss of virginity, fingering, vaginal sex, praise kink, drunk, boss/employee relationship, mild dubious consent, one-night stand, saliva, talking you through it, disheveled rat man nomnom, audio fic, whats it finna play-WOAHHH

word count: 3.3k

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Drinking straight liquor tonight was not a good idea for you. It made you irrational and impulsive. You would always wake up with half the bottles empty, a killer headache, and always something to think about. 

Nevertheless, you kept calling your boss, Reigen, until he picked up. 

“Mph, hey,” Reigen calls out your name, voice raspy. “What do you need…? Middle of the night, y’know, we have to go to work in the morning.”

You are caught so off guard by the huskiness in his voice that your drunken mind can only freeze the words on your tongue. 

His voice comes out as a growl when it calls your name again into the night. You can tell Reigen is concerned, yet you can do nothing but feel turned on by his stupid voice.

“I… uhhm.” You moan out into the night. Immediately, you close your mouth in surprise and panic-end the call before Reigen can get another word in. You slam it onto the table next to your bed and instinctively curl into yourself out of embarrassment. 

You can’t even pick up your phone when it vibrates off the table–you almost booty-called your boss, for fucks sake! You know Reigen will keep bothering your line, but accepting any call could result in ratting yourself out and ruining your job position at Spirits and Such. There is no way you can do that. 

You neglect the floor phone, taking a nice cold shower to forget your horned-up mind. You don’t bother gathering clothes before turning on the shower and hopping in, feeling the cool water on your hot skin. It almost relaxes you from the dirty thoughts you’ve been having. If only you could tell your boss how you feel, how you want him. Even if you haven’t lost your virginity, you’ve seen enough videos to know what you want–and boy, did you want a lot. 

Okay, that’s enough thoughts about fucking your boss for one night. 

After half an hour shy of meticulously cleaning every inch of your skin, you get out of the shower feeling satisfied and refreshed. Your arm reaches for the fluffiest towel you own, covering your moistened skin. 

You frown at the bare shelf where you usually put a clean change of clothes, now regretting not taking the extra minute to get them earlier. However, you can’t dwell on it much when you hear a noise outside the bathroom.

You freeze when you hear constant knocking on your front door, nearly shitting yourself at the fact it’s past midnight and someone wants to see you.

“Hey, I know you’re in there!” The voice says, calling your name out.

You would prefer if that voice were foreign to you now, but you know exactly who’s at the door. You have half a mind to ignore it when you end up reaching for the knob and slowly peeking an eye into the crack.

It’s Reigen with scraggly hair, bloodshot eyes, and undereye bags. You could tell his clothes were hastily put on, and he seemed out of breath and agitated. 

“Reigen?” You’re nothing less than bewildered. “Why the hell are you here?”

You open the door an inch, forgetting Reigen knows where you live. You remember him taking you home after a work party at the bar because you were way too drunk that night to get there on your own. He must’ve remembered where you were, which is both endearing and inconvenient for the time.

“Me? Are you okay?” Reigen takes the liberty of pushing open the door, concerned about your health yet oblivious to what you’re wearing.

Within the second of bursting open the door, he immediately realized why you cracked the door so narrow. Although your towel is fluffy, it’s barely enough to cover your nipples and crotch, giving Reigen the most liberal view of cleavage and legs that he could ever see. 

Your wet hair drips down to the floor, and Reigen realizes what he’s walked in on. It doesn’t help that he’s already inside your house, the door now shut from his initial push. Under his quick eyes, you cannot deny the feeling bubbling up your stomach. 

“Shit.” He rasps, immediately looking away when he realizes what he’s walked in. “Shit, okay, I’m sorry I- goddamn.”

He turns away his back entirely now, “I’m sorry for intruding, shit, I will–okay, I need to see myself out, now.”

“Hell no. Not when you’ve seen me like this, Reigen,” You say, grabbing his arm and spinning him around. Nevertheless, his head looks away. “Take some accountability.”

“Okay, alright, I’m sorry! You were calling, and I needed to make sure you weren’t dead.” He holds his hands to shake back and forth, then turns to you while covering his eyes. “What the hell happened?”

“Oh, I…” You trail off.

He leans forward and sniffs the air, glancing to your right to see the opened liquor splayed over the kitchen countertop. 

“You’re drunk?”

“I was, but I’m fine now. I promise it was no big deal. I just–”

He removes his suit jacket, “Here, before anything else, let me give you this so you can cover up.”

“No, I don’t want that.” You stop his hands that hold out the jacket, rejecting any part in it. 

“What?”

“I want you, boss.” You grit. You snatch his grey suit jacket before tossing it to the floor and stepping closer.

He looks back at you and blinks a few times, shaking his head.

“No, you’re drunk. You need to go to sleep, seriously.” Reigen groans. His voice contains an edge you can’t quite name, yet he doesn’t seem at all mad.

“I’m not drunk anymore,” You sputter, “And I know what I want, Reigen. I want you. Don’t you want me?”

“Jesus, you cannot just say that to me, especially as your boss.” Reigen covers his face, peering at you between his split fingers. 

“I don’t care. I want you to teach me things you shouldn’t, and I’m ready to learn.” 

“Teach? Wait, are you…?” Reigen stops himself from saying any more, knowing the exact answer when you nod. Reigen stares in shock, slack-jawed in disbelief. “No, there is no way you could be.”

You ignore his remark as your face glows in heat, gripping onto the edge of the towel with a resistance that’s desperate to let go. It only takes the swipe of your hand before the towel's grip succumbs to gravity, draping to the floor to expose your entire body.

“Reigen, don’t you want me?” You seductively say. 

“Yes, God, I do, alright? Now, put something on before I do something I regret, or I cannot promise this will end well.” He covers his eyes again, feeling for the doorknob behind him. 

“Why don’t we test that?”

You take his tie in your clutches, using the brevity of alcohol to do your mind’s bidding. Your arm yanks Reigen over to you until he practically topples over you in a passionate and hastily kiss. At the last minute, he stops the fall by slamming his hand on the wall right over you, making your knees buckle into an awkward stance. 

His lips feel so warm against yours, with both dehydrated from the effects of the long night. Chapped lips caress chapped lips, and you hook your arms on the back of his neck as your body thuds against the floor, subsequently taking Reigen with you. 

You wouldn’t think he would follow you to the floor so freely, immediately towering above your deliciously bare frame. His arms are planted on both sides of your head as he takes the lead in the domination of tongues. You feel caged between the arms you work under, yet the treat that is his guidance feeds you. Your lips, which have seldom kissed before, effortlessly mesh into his as he puts his weight against you. 

It’s clear what’s ahead of you and your boss, and no amount of forgetting or reasoning will cleanse your questionable business relationship to a blank slate. Right now, it’s about filling that craving for you and, ultimately, your boss. Reigen must’ve had the same thought when his lips left yours, and he started to get up.

“We’ll think about us after. Right now,” Reigen gets off you, crouching at your side before scooping you in his arms. “I’m taking you somewhere else.”

“Second door to the right,” You whisper, letting him carry you to your bedroom. 

He kicks open the door, promptly placing you on top of the bed and standing back up to undo his tie. The way he rips off that pink tie you see on him every shift before plucking open his shirt buttons from top to bottom has your mind spinning, especially when his eyes drink in your body every second he’s not touching you. By the time he gets down to his boxers, he’s back on you. 

“I didn’t know that drinking made you a liar. I’m sorry, but there is no way you're a virgin.” Reigen snorts, caging your body between his arms once more.

“Why is that so hard to believe, dumbass,” You mumble.

“Come on. We see each other every weekday, and I find it hard to believe that someone hasn’t put themselves between these pretty little hips before. I cannot be the only one, much less the first.” His knees nudge between your legs, slightly opening them. 

“As truthful now as I am about this,” You forcefully take his hand, pressing it on your exposed, hardened nipple. His hand stays there, eyes and hands now frozen from the contact. 

“Fuck.” Reigen snaps out of his hypnosis, groping your breast, taking his fingers and gently rolling the hard nipple. You pant from the foreign sensation. He watches your reaction like a dog, almost hysterical in how his eyes widen. 

His mouth takes your lips with force, then follows to the neck as he nibbles down the skin, then to the apex of your breast. Reigen’s lips coddle your areola as his tongue teasingly flicks the nipple, and his hands slowly caress the small on your waist down to the wideness of your soft hips. 

Reigen leans back to gaze at all your delicious curves, particularly the ones in between your legs that ache to feel him. He gently pushes your left leg to the side with his knee before sighing. 

“I’m not sure it’ll fit. Not right away,” Reigen starts. “So I’ll do this instead. Do you need me to guide you?” His fingers lift, showing you what he plans to start with. The display of his fingers alone makes you tremble, yet you nod your consent. 

He starts his lessons on you. The only tool he needed to show you was your body right now. You are so wet that he wouldn’t even think of lube. Not for his fingers, at least. He still felt the need to dip his fingers into your mouth. 

“Lick them, and keep your eyes on me,” Reigen says.

You obey. You flick your tongue around the pads, tasting the saltiness of his skin. You’re sure he darted straight over here when he woke up from your calls. Your mouth lingers on him, lubricating his fingers with your spit until he’s satisfied. 

“Take them for me. Let me know if it’s okay first.” You nod, and he dips his arm down.

One finger starts to slowly enter inside you as you shift your body at the feeling. Reigen carefully studies your body language. After a few moments of his first finger entering, he puts another in. 

“Damn, nobody has ever touched you like this, have they?” Reigen asks, looking into your widened eyes as his fingers start to move. He seems almost delighted by the thought of deflowering you, causing that desire to transfer to your core tenfold.

“No, Reigen. I wanted you… to be my first.” You cannot deny the aches you suffer at night after your shifts with Reigen or the long nights you endure your lust for him, yet you would never surrender your own hands to take care of it. 

“How does it feel?” His fingers gently pry your tight hole, causing your back to arch, giving Reigen’s eyes a generous view of your body.

“So, so fucking good,” You pant, gripping the wrist that invades your pussy from your lust. You make it move at a faster pace now, holding onto his arm like it’s a damn stress ball. 

“Good girl. Tell me if I need to stop.”

You feel your insides writhe in you when his fingers start to curl, constantly pushing in and out of you in a calculated rhythm. He knew exactly how much this made your body hot. His constant eyes that glance down your body up to your face tell you he’s enjoying himself, yet his thoughtful eyes still check yours, ensuring you’re okay. 

“You’re so wet for me.”

You can hear your pussy squelch now with your juices. All for Reigen, all for the man who pleasures you. Even then, it’s not enough for Reigen as he palms his erection through his boxers.

“It’ll be painful if we don’t use lube,” Reigen says. “Do you have any?”

“No,” You whine in between huffs.

“Shit…” Reigen mutters, slowly pulling his fingers out, assessing the liquid practically dripping down his fingers. “I don’t know if you want to go farther then.”

“We can go without it,” You whine, rubbing your legs together from the emptiness. 

“Are you sure you want that?” He asks. “That’s going to be a lot for you.”

You pull him in for another delicious kiss, properly exploring his mouth before answering.

“I can take it.” 

Reigen leans over you, taking his hand to thread through your fingers. He uses his other hand to free his cock from his boxers. Suddenly, you realized why he was so worried about you– over it not fitting. 

“Fine. Squeeze me as hard as you need to, okay?”

You gulp down your anxiety nod, opting to replace it with your hunger from his dick as he positions himself. Reigen’s tip protrudes in between your legs; he takes his hand and starts adding pressure against your slit. 

Your pussy can only take the very top of his penis before you begin to feel pain, worry bubbles in your stomach. 

Almost on cue, Reigen can tell what the disturbed look you sport means, the uneven rises of your chest, and the squeezes you put on his hand.

“Breathe, pretty girl. I know you can do it.” Reigen orders.

His words cut into the pain, helping you recoup your senses as he presses on; the pain persists as you take his head, which was the thickest part of him. The pressure inside feels foreign, and the pain continues when your pussy swallows his shaft. 

“You look so good taking me in. Keep going.”

His words make your pain subside when he pushes his whole cock inside you. After letting you adjust to his length, he looks into your eyes, asking if he can keep going. 

“I can take it.” You repeat, blinking away the water that gathered under your waterline. You moan out, “please, Reigen.”

Reigen looks at you like he’s never seen anything so beautiful. “Good girl.” He whispers. 

He’s three pumps in when you start panting like a dog, and your hand is still entwined with his as he squeezes. 

“Open your mouth for me.” You instantly oblige to his request, opening your mouth with tongue hanging out.

His lips purse slightly before puckering, releasing a string of his saliva into your mouth; your eyes widen before taking the gracious liquid into your mouth, tasting it like it’s the last drops of water on Earth. You practically growl as you pull his body down to you. 

“Feels good?”

He has his answer when you crash his mouth into a deep kiss, tongues exploring each other so hard that it’s scandalous. You moan out into the cavity of his mouth. “More,” you pant. 

“That’s my girl.”

His arms tuck under your torso, his hands grip your shoulder caps, and he leans his head near the crook of your neck. Your thighs spread out more until his shaft has full access to your pussy. 

He thrusts the way he’s been earlier, but with the position he has you in, plus the extra spread in your legs, his entire cock claps into your hole, earning a loud whimper out of you. Despite the volume and jolts your body takes from him, you can’t help but encourage him with the siren cry of your voice.

“That’s it. Let. it. out.” He grunts in your ear, immediately picking up a devil's pace. Your sopping wet pussy sloshes like thunder each time he thrusts, balls slapping against your ass. Your arms and legs wrap around him in a vice grip that he has a hard time reeling back each thrust of his sex into yours.

Reigen clicks his tongue. 

“Tch, you’re making it hard for me not to pull out right now.” 

You don’t think about anything else but the overwhelming sensation that has taken over any other feeling. You have no control over it, yet you feel no reason to stop it as it builds and builds.

“I… I feel funny.” You breathe out, clawing at his skin with your nails, you can’t stop yourself from the sensation. 

“Ah, I know. I can feel it.” 

“What is it? What do I-” Reigen kisses you again, and you let out an accidentally loud moan into his mouth as his lips take you.

“Follow it for me, pretty girl,” Reigen whispers. His hand darts down, assaulting the neglected bud at the apex of your pussy. Your mind goes blank as white-hot fire engulfs your core. 

“Cum for me.”

The overwhelming sensation takes over your body like a train, rushing through every vein like electricity. Your hands latch onto his hair, roughly pulling at the soft locks and scratching down his back. A noise you’ve never heard from your throat rips out like a tidal wave, crashing and chipping away at any thought you could’ve had that didn't include him. Dear God, was this a delirious feeling.

Reigen’s voice didn’t carry to your ears when he talks you through it. The soft whispers of him, “I know, I know.” are lost from your waves of pleasure. 

His dick and balls clap into you like thunder a few more times before quickly pulling out of you, groaning as he uses his hand for the rest. His seed gathers onto his fingers shortly after, dripping onto the top of your stomach as he leans over you. 

Your eyes meet, gazing into each other’s eyes with bated breath, watching your faces once contorted, now relaxing to faces of bliss. After a moment, you get up to get some tissues across the room, leaving Reigen to wipe his cum off of the both of you. 

“Fuck.” You moan out. “Please tell me it always feels like this.”

“It does now,” Reigen catches his breath, giving you a goofy smile and tossing the tissues aside. “It sure as hell does now.”

You giggle at him, and he ungracefully, dramatically flops to your side–in proper Reigen fashion.

“Well, I’m calling out tomorrow.” He whistles, absentmindedly sweeping his fingers on the skin of your stomach, still partially covered in his cum. 

“It’s not like you’ll be hungover tomorrow morning.”

“You’re too dense for your own good. Look, when I have you in your own bed? I’m not letting you go anytime soon. I really need to reevaluate our business relationship when I leave this room.” 

“I guess I’ll have to keep you here then,” you jest.

“Hey, I’m not complaining.”

--------

ao3 | tiktok | kofi | masterlist

[msmargaretmurry]

I’m rotating Matthew Tkachuck in my head right now and trying to figure out what’s an interesting direction to take him in, in general, in a post SCF win world. Real Matthew is obviously living his best life right now but I feel like there’s interesting things to explore with fanon Matthew. What angst avenues remain after he’s reached the dream of every hockey player in the show, fulfilled the expectations put on him by putting the tkachuk name on the cup? I’ve always liked stories that explore characters after they reached their ultimate goal and the ‘now what?’ question that they have to answer, I’m having trouble figuring what that ‘now what?’ is for Matthew beyond play more hockey and win more cups. As the foremost Matthew Knower I know, I’d love to hear your thoughts on this.

(Also needless to say i’d love hearing the extra mattdrai take on this too, either already established pre-SCF, broke up before SCF, or never even got together yet)

OK HI ANON i am so sorry for taking so long to answer this! and thank you for sending such a fun and interesting question!! as usual this got long so i'll put it under the read more.

so first of all i've definitely seen people say that matthew is less interesting to them fannishly now that his narrative is "over" — he won the cup, he's getting married, he's got his ideal happy ending, etc — and i do understand that, both theoretically and having seen it happen before in fandom (after the caps finally won the cup fannish hockey interest in them seemed to drop off SO abruptly at the time, lol). which is fine! if the thing someone was most invested in was the narrative and the narrative concludes, if the tension they were interested in is no longer there, it's natural to move on to new victims players of interest.

however, anon, i like you am for better or worse still invested 😂 and despite writing almost nothing this past year (i cannot express enough how burnt out grad school had me, but i have WAY better plans for stress management this year, hooray for having writing time again) i have been rotating our beloved rat boy CONSTANTLY on the gas station hotdog roller in my mind. he is one those players who obviously i enjoy him as a real person and a hockey player but for fanfiction purposes i find him so interesting for his potential as a character, and that character is only very loosely tied to his real life circurmstances and is a separate, totally fictional entity from the real guy. so while the real matthew is living the dream, and i am so happy for and proud of him, i still have fictional matthew in my head like, well i can do whatever i want with you, lol.

so i think what maybe makes it more difficult for people to stay invested fannishly in situations like this is the (understandable) tendency to set "canon" fic (fics that aren't full AUs) in the here-and-now, and matthew's here-and-now, like we said, just doesn't have that much obvious tension and conflict, and the tension and conflict are what make for great stories! so i take a few different approaches here, and hopefully you will find one or some of them interesting or useful.

firstly i totally agree that "what now" stories are great. you've achieved everything you ever dreamed of — what now? well, as a writer, you figure out why that wasn't enough and then you send your character on a journey to figure that out, too. and honestly a lot of the time this is just about making shit up! like, in haw matthew is such an anxious character — obviously matthew in real life is not anxious like his haw counterpart, but haw!matthew has something real matthew doesn't have: his big gay secret that is constantly weighing on him and stressing him out, so the anxiousness (hopefully) makes sense, character-wise. with matthew as a character i am almost always ignoring his real-life love life (i have just never been a person to include real wags in my fic in any major way) so my immediate thought is: if he has the cup, but not the engagement, how does that make things different? is he lonely? does he need to admit to himself that he's lonely, or is he already aware and making a choice to stay that way? or, maybe he uses the cup press as a way to come out, and he's dealing with all of that? maybe he gets caught putting his tongue in some guy's mouth during the drunken cup celebrations and he's dealing with that. (insert matthew pairing of choice into any of this, obviously.)

or maybe we want a fic that lets him have the whole happy ending, cup and wedding and everything. fast-forward five, ten, fifteen years, and how has that happiness lasted? like, he's pretty young, he has a lot of career ahead of him! will he be content as his career winds down if in all those years he hasn't had another sniff at the cup? does his (fictional) marriage last (obviously not, if we're going to have him sucking dick in a supply closet or w/e, but ykwim)? does he get to end his career on his own terms? there are whole worlds of futurefic out there for exploring what happens when all your dreams come true so young and so you spend the rest of your life chasing that high.

and then there is like, we can write fic set in the past! we're allowed to do that! if we still want to write about calgary matthew or pre-cup matthew and explore the conflicts and tensions in those parts of his life, we can do that! i think that his first two years in florida are SO ripe especially for like, matthew/sasha or matthew/benny or other fic with his teammates culminating in that cup run. like with good romance novels, knowing it has the best possible ending doesn't make the journey less interesting. we love that real matthew has his real happy ending; it could be really fun to recreate that journey for him with bonus matthew/[insert hockey man of choice here] content. (obviously i love matthew/leon, but i really will read anything 😂 so this is me encouraging all pairings.)

and then for ME there is a particularly delicious option, one of my favorite types of of hrpf fic in general, with the canon divergence au. we have seen matthew live his dream; what happens if something in his life happened that derailed his path to it? how does he reach that level of joy and contentness and peace with himself if his perfect cup/engagement summer is taken out of his reach? i'm talking your classic career-ending injury aus, something else happens to derail his career aus, etc. maybe not for everyone and maybe not quiet what you're thinking about with a "what next" type of fic, but i love this shit so much, so i have to include it here.

finally, OBVIOUSLY, the matthew and leon of it all!!!!! like, man, WHAT a wrench to throw into our beautiful wonderful made-up mattdrainiverse. i think there are such fun possibilities in every version of the scenario like you mentioned — established relationship, broken up, not together yet, a fourth secret thing, etc. for established relationship, the question of, does this break them up (and then you the writer has to get them back together) (if you're feeling nice)? if not, how do they get past it? if they're exes, does it weirdly ignite something between them again, and how does that go? and honestly my favorite might be the "not together yet" option, just because the journey for leon getting over that resentment and growing feelings could be soooooooo good.

and i think maybe that is the key to post-cup fic for them, for me, if the fic is going to end with them happy together? is, whatever their relationship, taking leon's feelings about the cup seriously — his resentment, his pain, his annoyance, what have you — and showing me that journey of processing those feelings and getting to a place where even if he's not happy for matthew, he is happy with him. and on matthew's side, his own feelings — refusing to be sorry for winning, refusing to tamp down his joy, etc — are obviously also important, and i think there could be some really good conflict there as they butt heads and work through all that.

but every fic doesn't have to deal with that whole-ass emotional journey, obvs. not every fic has to be a 60k feelings journey 😂 one-shot encounters, hate-fucking pwps, whatever, they can all be delicious. (unsolicited fic rec, @hopetorun recently wrote me this matthew/leon post-cup fic that packs a punch in 10k.) for me though i think these feelings about the cup need to be centered in the post-cup era, even if they don't get nicely resolved. even if it's set 15 years in the future, those feelings are still going to be there, and whatever happens between them is going to be messy and complicated. and we all know i love mess 🥰

anyway, i'm not actually sure if i answered your question here but i hope it did! regardless, i had fun thinking about all this, and that's the most important thing!

[dandylovesturtles]

late night posting but I had a thought that spiraled into mostly Disaster Twins banter and I wanted to write it just because of that

I have no plan I’m just going sorry if it just kinda ends

takes place immediately after the events of Evil League of Mutants

———

Donnie’s in his bunk, doing one last nightly check of all his socials, when the curtain to his room is opened and shut. He doesn’t have to look to know who it is - his other brothers have the decency to knock.

“What do you want, Leo?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Donnie hears the sound of his desk chair rolling over concrete and looks down to see Leo making himself comfortable, reclined back so he can see Donnie without craning his neck.

Great. Donnie returns to his phone and waits for Leo to speak.

“I just can’t stop thinking about what happened today.”

“A lot of things happened today, so you’ll have to be more specific.”

“Uh, about Lou Jitsu being our dad, duh! I mean, it’s crazy!”

“Oh, I know.” Donnie actually grins at that, looking up at his ceiling. “Of all the people it could have been! You know, I’ve sequenced all our DNA, and if I go through the data perhaps I can isolate his badassery in genetic form!” He wiggles in excitement. “Maybe I can even make my own Lou Jitsu clone…”

“Okay, cool it on the mad scientist junk for a second,” says Leo, rudely jerking him out of his tiny Lou Jitsu fantasies. “I’m just saying… he’s our dad.”

“Yes, as we’ve established.”

“I mean, all four of us.”

“Good job, Leo, you are two for two.”

“And that makes us brothers. Like… biologically.”

“Yes, very good. You have a fifth grade understanding of biology, gold star.” He looks away from his phone and down at Leo, and feels a sudden rush of panic. “Aaaand you aaare emotional about this… for some reason.”

“Am not,” argues Leo, even though he clearly is. Leo doesn’t cry much, but sometimes his eyes get all big and shiny like he wants to, and now is one of those times.

Donnie cringes. “Are you sure you don’t want to have… whatever conversation this is with Raph or Mikey?”

“No.” Leo scowls. “They’d be all… weird about it.”

“I’m going to be weird about it!”

“Dee, can you just… listen a sec?”

He knows if he tells Leo no after that, Leo will get up and leave… but he feels bad doing that. No matter what reasoning led him to choose Donnie to hear out these feelings, if Leo gets rejected he’ll never tell anyone and just sulk in his room instead.

So Donnie sighs. “Fiiine. But I’m not sharing any emotions tonight.”

Leo snorts, but after a second he starts talking again. “I just… know it shouldn’t matter, because we’re brothers no matter what. But… I don’t know. I always thought, since we’re different species… But now I know we all have the same dad! And it doesn’t matter, but… doesn’t that make you kinda… happy?”

Leo’s looking at him expectantly, and Donnie mulls it over. Does it make him happy? He’s never thought too much about it before, but maybe there is something nice about sharing that connection.

He already said he’s not talking about feelings, though, and anyway… “I already knew.”

Leo is out of the chair and in his face in a second flat. “What do you mean you already knew?”

“Not that Lou Jitsu is our dad, obviously!” He isn’t intimidated by Leo, but he pulls back anyway so he has more room to properly display his annoyance. “But I sequenced our DNA, remember? And it took some work, because of the highly complex processes involved and the fact that we don’t have DNA that is purely human or turtle-“

“Donnie-“

“-anyway, I isolated our human DNA and found enough similarities to determine there was a 92% chance our human donor was the same person. So I already knew that we are biologically brothers.”

Leo gapes at him. “And you didn’t think to tell us that!?”

“I tried to tell you! I laid all my findings out in a powerpoint, and you said, and I quote, “Donald, it’s been fifteen slides already, if you have any more I’m shoving you in a sewer pipe and leaving you for the rats.””

“Hey, don’t pin this on me! You’re the one who didn’t put the important information up front! Effective scientific communication is critical!”

“The point is that it’s all important, and thus impossible to pare down! So if you could just be patient once and a while, you’d actually learn something!”

“Well maybe I just thought you would tell us something this important straight out!”

Donnie is all geared up to keep fighting him on this, but just like how he can tell when Leo is emotional but trying to hide it, he can tell when Leo is hurt and trying to hide it. Arguing doesn’t feel good when it’s like this.

He backs down with a small shrug of surrender. “I just… didn’t think it was that important. I mean, it’s like you said… We’re brothers no matter who our human donor or donors are.”

The hurt slips off Leo’s face as easily as it came, and he smiles just a little. “Yeah?”

“Yes. And if I’m saying it then it’s obviously right.”

Leo rolls his eyes, but he’s still got that smile so Donnie knows all is forgiven.

Leo decides to extend an olive branch too, apparently, because the next thing he says is, “What would you even do with a Lou Jitsu clone, anyway?”

“I haven’t decided.” He looks at Leo, then sighs and scoots over. “Since you’re here, you can help me brainstorm.”

Leo’s smile turns into a full grin, and he pulls himself up into the bunk. It’s a tight squeeze, but they fit.

[coramatus]

The Tumblr Sexyman Poll 2023 aftermath for the Submas boys.

Ingo could care less about the poll. Emmet has objections. Both see a good reason Ingo didn’t make it to third place again like last time.

Silly ideas that popped up:

The most absurd form Cecil could take for a sexyman poll is the Night Vale eye logo. So of course I went for it.

Reigen was fine in the end, if a bit traumatized. Cecil immediately lost interest in him when the results came in.

You know Cecil’s immediately handing that first prize to Carlos because he knows who the truest sexyman is. Which is why he even cares and is bothering to eye laser people.

No, I know Cecil never died. That was just the funniest thing Emmet could say in that moment.

Emmet went on a date with Cecil once. It went sideways when Cecil started saying weird things about spiders and they never tried again. Was Cecil eye-shaped or human-shaped? Emmet thinks it funnier to keep people guessing.

After beating Bruno twice, Ingo felt bad and gave Bruno a lifetime pass for the subway. As long as all his rats are in an appropriate carrying cage. They’re now friends and talk regularly.

Transcription:

Emmet: We have the same face, Ingo! At least work up some indignation for my sake!

Ingo: It’s just a silly poll, Emmet. It’s not a big deal.

(‘Waiting for the Bus in the Rain’ plays in the background)

Emmet: It is a big-! Uh… Do you hear ‘Waiting for the Bus in the Rain’?

Ingo: Huh… Yeah, I do. What is that about-?

KA-BOOM!!!

Emmet: !!!

Ingo: !!!

Cecil of Welcome to Night Vale in the form of the podcast’s eye logo: *somehow shooting an eye laser* WELCOME BACK DEAR LISTENERS TO NIGHT VALE

Reigen of Mob Psycho 100 (previous 2nd place winner): *running away from Cecil’s eye laser* AAAAAAAAAAA

Emmet: CECIL?!

Emmet: I thought he died!

Ingo: *speaking into Xtransciever* Hello, Bruno! It seems we dodged a bullet train with that poll thing!

[rosemary-morgan]

Javier Escuella X F.Reader - It's never to late to repent (Part1)

(Pictures found on pinterest/google. That one with Javier is mine. Collage made by me 🌺)

Many thanks to @fangirl-ramblings 🖤 she has been beta reading for me 🌹

And thanks to all who read and like my stories. Stay healthy and take care, my lovely bees 🐝🌺 You have no idea how much this means to me. I hope you will enjoy this story too!

👉Read Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Warning: angst, arguments

Summary: You thought that nothing could tear you and Javier apart, but nothing lasts forever. And after so many years you still shed tears for him. The nights without him are lonely and cold. You would give anything to see him just one more time. To touch him one last time...

Javier Escuella X F.Reader - It's never to late to repent (Part1)

"Javi, please! Can't you see what's going on?!"

"Y/N! Come with me or you're going to die! Don't you understand?!"

His hands had a tight grip on your shoulders, which was now starting to hurt a little. There was pure desperation in his gaze because he couldn't and wouldn't see that you weren't choosing his path.

"You will be the one who will die if you continue to follow Dutch, Javier!"

Did he really think she would let him run to his doom? Why was this man so damn stubborn? So blinded by pride?!

"Are you one of them now, Y/N?! Are you turning your back on Dutch too?!"

Javier didn't even wait for an answer, but pulled you behind him without warning. If you wouldn't go voluntarily, then he would have to force you to go. Javier did it out of love for you, because he firmly believed that his way was the right one. Oh, how blinded he was by Dutch. And Micah… that viper! Like poison creeping through his veins, Javier was now completely poisoned by Micah's words, his lies.

As much as you loved Javier, you couldn't go with him. Javier paused as you tore yourself away from him. Furrowing his brow, he looked you straight in the eye, searching for an explanation for your actions.

"Javier, I'm not going anywhere where Dutch or Micah will be!"

"What the fuck, Y/N?!"

Javier's voice suddenly got louder, something he had never done to you before. You couldn't even stay mad at him. The only thing you felt was pity and fear; the fear of losing him for good. And you feared that you would. You had grown apart over the last few weeks, barely touching each other, not even kissing. Javier had sat with Micah constantly, letting Dutch use him like a puppet.

"Micah is the rat! He betrayed us! And Dutch is on the verge of despair!"

But your words seemed to be falling on deaf ears because it seemed like Javier just didn't even care what you said.

"Come with me, Javier!" Quite desperate, you clawed at his arms, looking up at him hopefully. Maybe something would get through to him! It was worth a shot!

"I owe Dutch my life, Y/N!"

"He doesn't own it though! Stop saying things like that!"

Suddenly, gunfire rang through the forest. It seemed to be a firefight, farther away, but close enough to hear them clearly. Beaver Hollow was no longer safe. This place had been cursed from the beginning! You were convinced of that.

Javier immediately pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him, and in that moment you realized how serious this whole story was. But it also showed you that he cared for your safety. Closing your eyes for a moment, you enjoy the closeness with Javier. But your peace was not to last long. You hear horses approaching. It was Dutch, followed by Micah and his new "friends". Your withering gaze carries Micah with full force and his cold eyes just stare at you. He knew exactly what you thought of him and he also knew that you didn't trust him one bit. He couldn't fool you, so you were a danger to him. A danger that had to be eradicated. Like a venomous insect that needed to be squashed immediately.

And in the end, Micah and Dutch had succeeded in robbing you of the most precious thing in life. You will never be able to forget Javier's last words. Like a sharp blade of a dagger, they had pierced your heart.

"Well, fuck you then, Y/N! Go you traitor! Go die with them!"

♦♦♦♦

It has been five years now. Five years ago, your family had broken apart. Because of a man who had lost his mind at the end. Because he had trusted the wrong people at the end of his road. You'd never forgive Dutch for what he'd done to Arthur… To him and all the others. How he had taken Javier away from you. The man you had loved so much and still do. Not a day went by that you didn't think about him. The eternal long nights in which you lay in bed crying and restless because the longing was too great. You had believed that it would get better with time, but you had been very wrong. Now you felt only loneliness and emptiness, because your soul piece was missing. Still, you had hope that Javier had survived and perhaps lived a good life. Yes, maybe he had moved on. Like you had. Like John and Abigail. Or like Tilly and Mary-Beth. All of you had moved on, had managed to join society, to live an honest life.

"Wonderful, Y/N. I'll send you the fabrics you ordered then. It usually takes a couple of weeks."

"Thank you Mister Oelson!"

"My pleasure. And here's another little something for you!"

Mister Oelson provided you with fabrics because you were a dressmaker and you worked from home. And the best fabric just happened to be at Saint Denis. Besides, you had been buying so much from Oelson's merchandise over the past few years that you were getting discounts, which of course was very good for you.

"This is from my wife and me. As a thank you, for the beautiful dress you made for her!"

The gift from Mister Oelson was wrapped in such a way that you couldn't even guess what must be hiding inside.

"Oh, that's very kind of you! Thank you. Pass on my thanks to your wife. How is Harriet, then?"

"Oh, you know her. She makes a mountain out of a molehill. It's just a little cold, that's all."

Mr. Oelson laughed softly, making you smile with his words.

Mr. and Mrs. Oelson were a married couple in their late forties. They were very friendly and their merchandise was really popular in Saint Denis. One could purchase just about anything from them. Fine fabrics, perfume, fine wine, and jewelry as well. They had made a good name for themselves in Saint Denis.

"Goodbye, Mister Oelson. See you soon!"

And with that, you left the store, satisfied and happy with your order, which was soon to be delivered to you. It was already late in the afternoon and actually you would have liked to spend some more time in Saint Denis, but you still had a long journey home ahead of you. You lived in Strawberry, had made yourself at home there. It was a wonderful place, out in the fields, where you had fertile land to grow many things. Of course, all this didn't fall into your lap. It had been a long, hard road to where you were now. In the first years after you were on your own, you had worked hard, had to listen to many negative things as a single, young woman. Harassment had been the order of the day, but that had not upset you. And now you were your own boss, able to do what you loved from your home. Making beautiful clothes. It helped you to get other thoughts, but sometimes it happened that you thought back to the past and in such moments, you couldn't help but shed many tears.

Just as you entered the train station to buy a ticket, you saw the many people standing there. They looked angry. Some had their suitcases with them, probably eagerly waiting for their connection.

"Oh, miss. Excuse me, but all train service has been suspended for the day!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"There's been an accident on the line from Blackwater to Saint Denis."

With a soft sigh, you glanced at your watch. Well, there was probably nothing you could do about the situation, so it wouldn't do you much good to fret.

"Miss, it's getting dark outside. The streets aren't very safe here at night in Saint Denis."

You smiled at the police officers, nodding. You knew how dangerous Saint Denis was, even during the day.

"Thank you, officer."

A shrill and loud whistle was heard, followed by a yelling police officer, apparently trying to restrain a few of the travelers. You were getting too stressed out in all this chaos and without further ado, you started looking for a suitable place to stay.

Just as you were about to leave the station, you noticed a scent. A scent that you would recognize among thousands of people. Instantly you stopped, your heart stopped for a moment. Could it be? Your eyes grew wide as memories were evoked in you. Spicy lavender. It was just a small whiff in the air, but it was so intense for you. "Javier…" You frowned, looking down at the floor, trying to sort out your thoughts in the moment. No, that could be anyone here! Anyone could smell like spicy lavender! Or maybe your mind was just playing tricks on you. The worst part of the whole thing was the feeling of disappointment. Every time you had to realize that he wasn't there. Who knew where Javier was? Still, your eyes kept a lookout for him. But he was nowhere to be seen. There were only loud, strange people here. But the feeling of being watched was very intense. Still, without wasting any more time, you left this place and went to a hotel where you would spend the night. Hoping that tomorrow morning you could return back home. It will be another restless night for you…

♦♦♦♦

Looking up into the night sky, smoke slowly rose from his lungs to ascend into the dark night. Javier watched as the smoke slowly dissipated. He couldn't believe that he had actually found you. He had been looking for you for so long, but now he didn't have the courage to face you. Not after what he had done. You would probably send him packing if he suddenly faced you without warning. And he wouldn't even blame you. But his longing for you had driven him on. The thought of you had very often kept him from doing stupid things.

Since the thing with Dutch, Micah… and Arthur, nothing good had happened in his life. He was a lone wolf; though he kept telling himself that he didn't deserve it any other way…

[fulcrum-art-fox]

“Hello? Is anybody there? Can you hear me?”

Jedi over comms: “Identify yourself.”

“My name is -”

Might be an inconsequential thing to get hung up on, but I am curious: what name was she going to give?

First impulse, probably Osha’s. Would make the most sense, that’s the identity she’s assuming, that what she’s been trying to sell all episode, it’s the thing the Jedi are more likely to expect, definitely the safest thing to say. Except the scene that immediately preceded it and what happens to break her off mid sentence makes me wonder

As @midnight-melancholiaaa pointed out, the scene that immediately precedes this is the one in which it is likely that Sol figured out that she was Mae, and not Osha (the analysis is great and you should totally go read it). So if we’re to assume that, then for the rest of the conversation Sol knows he’s talking to Mae, but Mae doesn’t realise that the game is up, and so keeps pushing, under the guise of the questions being Osha’s, and she asks “Have you told me everything that happened on Brendok?” a very carefully phrased question. Sol’s answer, “You were very young,” is noncommittal and negative. Mae presses for an answer, and there’s a moment in which he steps toward her, like he’s about to speak, like he’s about to tell her. And then the power comes back on, and the moment passes. He isn’t going to tell her. And Mae sneers and storms away, angrily. She storms right up to the bridge, where she immediately calls the Jedi, of her own initiative and volition, and begins a dialogue. And before she can introduce herself, Sol stuns her, cuts off the transmission and jumps the ship away

Now this is a very long winded way of saying that I totally think there’s the distinct possibility she was gonna introduce herself as Mae, but I totally think there’s the distinct possibility she was gonna introduce herself as Mae

As to why Mae might want to call the Jedi as herself, I have no clear idea, Mae’s actions have been continually unexpected, but given that she did very seriously entertain the idea of handing herself over to the Jedi in order to achieve something a few episodes ago, she might have been intending to rat Sol out to the other Jedi. The revenge vs justice thing has already been raised, and so far Mae has been very firmly on the revenge end, but in this case, the event that immediately preceding the call was Sol disappointing her, reaffirming her attitude towards him. He says he intends to fess up to the council but I don’t imagine for a second Mae believes he will. It doesn’t appear, to her in this moment, that he’ll even tell her what happened (honey you’ve got a rough storm coming), why should she believe he’ll tell his superiors, after sixteen years of keeping the secret? So she might well out herself and take him down with her, what does she have left, really? Try and force him to face up to justice. But who knows. There’s always been a certain amount of mental gymnastics required to keep up with what Mae considers good decision making. As for Sol, by this point, as many have pointed out, he wants to go after Osha, and he doesn’t want the Jedi telling him to wait for anything, and “oh Mae Aniseya, the Jedi killer, is onboard the ship” is absolutely the kind of information that, if reported, would have the Jedi telling him not to go anywhere under any circumstances. If he was worried she was going to introduce herself under her real name, bog him down in official Jedi procedure rather than get to Osha as fast as possible, that would be further reason for him to stun her, not just that he’s identified her as a dangerous imposter, but to prevent that information getting out

Anyway, sorry for the long post, just thought it was an interesting little detail

[sirhyst]

Edgar Allan Poe (BSD) x gn!reader

TW/CW: suggestive language (nothing explicit), bottom!poe again sorry but 😔 I’m down bad for this man

Summary: Reader accidentally comes across some interesting poems Poe wrote about them.

Note: reader has more game than me 😔✊ I’m dog shit at writing poems so maybe later I’ll write what Poe might of sent you.

———————————————————————

You were sitting alone at your house when you heard scratching by your door. Most would have reached for the nearest weapon, but you knew all too well what was making those scratching noises.

“Karl,” you said reaching down to pet the little raccoon. Before your hand met his small head, you noticed he had loose papers in his mouth.

“Now what do you have there? Have you been stealing again?” Karl look at you begrudgingly, clearly annoyed that you would dare make such an accusation despite his track record. He dropped the papers at your feet before waltzing into your living room, towards your couch.

You immediately recognised the beautiful, yet slightly rushed, handwritten words.

Edgar, you thought to yourself, not realising the goofy smile that spread across your lips. As you carefully scanned the documents though, the smile was replaced by a look of shock as your face began to heat up.

A plethora of beautifully written poems sharing the many fantasies Poe had, many of which were very erotic, scattered across the pages in the form of a letter. Poe, in his usual poetic way, truly described what he saw and how that made him feel.

Your concentration was interrupted when Karl clung onto your ankle.

“Maybe I should take these back to Poe Karl, What do you think?” You asked, patting his head gently. Naturally, Karl let out an approving chirp.

You reached Poe’s house to find him already standing by the door.

“My darling, I-“ he paused, blush layering his face as soon as he saw the papers in your hand, immediately recognising them based on the smirk dancing across your face.

“I see you Karl ratted me out,” he said looking down, not daring to look you in the eyes. You had to admit, you didn’t expect such explicit words from your boyfriend, it was like night and day from his usual gothic horror stories.

Poe led you up to his office, Karl seemed to sense the change in the air and remained in the foyer.

As soon as Poe closed the door, you placed the unholy papers on the nearest bookshelf before pressing the tall man against the wooden door.

No matter how many times you caught Poe in this position, he always reacted as if it were the first time. A blushing, stuttering mess, only become more of a wreck as your hands made there way to his waist, deeply massaging it.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable,” he said, even after making note of his current predicament, he still worried he’d push you away.

“Of course not my little raven,” you said in a hushed voice. Your lips brushed against his, whilst pushing back his bangs to see his full face. You frequently did this merely to pull the nervous little whimpers from your partner that you’ve grown to love.

“Just a new side of you that’s all,” you took time to admire his features before letting out a content sigh before kissing him softly.

Naturally, the kiss ended long before Poe would have liked.

“Edgar~” you said in the manner you knew made his knees weak.

“You made me seem more attractive than I thought I was though,” you said, almost overcome with shyness. Poe furrowed his brows—he never wanted to hear his partner under-appreciate themselves.

“I simply wrote what I saw, and how I feel when I look at you,” he paused.

“I feel disappointed in myself when I think those things about you but, sometimes I can’t help it,”

“Especially since you’re so,” he didn’t know what to say next. When the writer runs out of words to describe the overwhelming feeling he felt around his lover, you know he is truly overcome by love.

“Hmm,” you said, moving your hand to fiddle with his jacket.

“it’s not gross, I love when you express yourself. Especially the cute noises you make,” you said with another smirk and a wink. Edgar pursed his lips in an attempt to hold back any noise threatening to spill out.

You took a step back, placing your hands back on his waist. Poe pouted from the sudden warmth dissipating, but briefly regained composure.

“I’m glad I didn’t push you away, I didn’t mean for you to find those,” he looked at his hands, “especially since they weren’t finished.”

As if the passed 5 minutes had never accrued, your face completely switched from a seductive smile to plain shock.

“There’s more?!” You said, a little louder than either of your would have liked. Poe stayed silent, not wanting to expose himself further, made his way back to his desk.

“Edgar! You can’t just drop that information and then walk away!” You said nervously, but still with a slight smile threatening to appear. That of course did not last long as the urge to tease your lover returned.

As he stood in front of his desk, you placed a hand on his shoulder turning him around, and leaning him against the wooden surface.

“Why don’t you tell me more about your little fantasies.”

[snowfolly]

So I got to the Daylight Inn in BG3 today and I had Astarion in my squad, and as we were hanging out and chatting up Isobel after rescuing her from Marcus, I started hearing a male character singing really softly. I switch characters around to see if I can find them and BOOM I find out ot's Astarion singing softly to himself while idle. I couldn't quite make the lyrics out but he sounded a bit distant and sad...made me want to hug him again.

OH NO… little guy, that’s so cute ;A; I absolutely love this and really, really hope this triggers for me in (one of) my current pts!

I have heard audio of him humming before (and it was so flat- which is super endearing to me lol), BUT this ask made me have some big hcs and I had to write and draw some boys about it lol

-

I imagine that Astarion really, truly loves to sing, that he gets catchy tavern songs stuck in his head for days and goes about his business singing to himself. However, the other spawn would continuously tell him to never to do so in their presence because he can't hold a tune, what kind of elf can’t sing? And what in the names of all the gods did he have to sing about anyway? Besides the song of agony that Cazador made him sing…

By the time he ends up a tadfool in our favorite merry band of misfits he’s learned well not to dare let his discordant voice slip in front of other people. He has to be charming, he has to be pleasant so that they keep him around. And his song is not a pleasant one.

He can’t help himself though, he still hums and sings quietly as he strolls through the woods, when he’s reading or sewing, in times when he thinks he’s entirely by himself. But Tav, godsdamnit, Tav takes notice. 

Tav startles him one night, telling him that they recognize the tune that he’s humming and that it’s one of their favorites. Astarion’s pissed that they were listening in on him, but he’s more surprised that he isn’t shot down immediately, that he’s not met with expected snark for not being able to carry a tune in a bucket, but Tav doesn’t belittle him… which is odd.

In time Astarion still keeps his songs to himself around the rest of the party, but as he begins to trust Tav he finds himself becoming more and more relaxed with them. He realizes that he can be himself around them, well, whatever parts of himself still left to him at this point anyway.

But it was a novel concept, this acceptance, a concept he learned to greatly appreciate. And Tav seems pleased to see (and hear) him being comfortable with them, being happy. Tav cares for him.

Tav cares for him after no one had given a rats ass about him for two centuries. What a concept indeed.

So Astarion continues humming flatly and singing badly,  Tav joins him often and they belt out old folk songs or bawdy tavern numbers together on their long journey, making up colorful (and hilariously crass) new verses as they go. 

And he comes to realize that this, this time with Tav is what being close to a person is supposed to feel like.

That being put down and belittled for something that a person enjoys is not universal. 

That constantly being on guard is not normal.

That another person can actually bring him joy, and that caring for someone is... possible.

Tav says that they enjoy singing with him, that they could go on singing with him forever, that they love his song.

And would it be so bad to sing of love instead of sorrow? Would it be so bad to share his song with them for as long as time would allow? He wasn’t quite sure yet, it was all so new.

But as he walks with Tav, arm in arm, belting out a bawdy old ballad to the heavens and all unfortunate ears within a mile, he had to admit that the thought of forever was enticing.

-

Thank you so much for the ask! And sorry it took 5ever bc it inspired me to make a little Drabble and doodle :>

[ridiasfangirlings]

Saruhiko decides to get a haircut because his hair is really long and he meets Misaki in the same barber shop

Imagine this post-betrayal, Fushimi decides his hair’s getting too long but he’s feeling too lazy to cut it himself so he finally drags himself down to a barbershop. Fushimi probably doesn’t normally like having his hair cut by other people, especially since I imagine the poor guy cutting his hair would want to make small talk and Fushimi’s just clicking his tongue and radiating ‘leave me alone’ energy, but he also doesn’t want to cut his own hair and he doesn’t want to be attacked by Hidaka with the scissors again so he has no choice but to get a proper haircut at a barbershop. Luckily the guy cutting his hair realizes pretty quickly that Fushimi just wants to sit in silence and have his hair cut so he just gets to work while Fushimi sits there with his glasses off staring blurring ahead.

He’s about halfway through his haircut when he hears the barber next to him chatting with his new client. Fushimi grimaces and clicks his tongue quietly, like oh great now I have to listen to idiots talking until my haircut is done. That’s when the client next to him responds to the barber and Fushimi immediately does a double take because he would know that voice anywhere. Imagine him sitting there silently, waiting to see if he’s noticed, and then when Yata’s barber asks him a question Fushimi pipes up in response instead with something insulting. Yata’s like wait what and then he almost jumps out of his seat like ‘Saruhiko!’. The barber tells him to sit down and Fushimi snickers, telling Yata he won’t get a lollipop if he isn’t good. Yata’s like fuck you I’m not a kid, Fushimi’s like if you’re not then why did the barber give you a booster seat to sit in.

This time Fushimi’s barber scolds him, telling him not to lean forward so much. Yata huffs like maybe you should pay attention before you end up bald Saruhiko, Fushimi says he thought Yata was the one with the receding hairline. Yata’s all what was that, almost jumping up again before stopping himself, and Fushimi says that’s why Yata wears the hat all the time isn’t it. Yata says well at least his hair doesn’t look like a rat’s nest full of product, Fushimi says if he has problems with hair products then maybe he should talk to his hair-dyeing King. Yata says Mikoto’s hair is natural and Fushimi snickers again, wondering how Yata knows that, did he ask Mikoto if the curtains match the drapes. Yata looks at him blankly all why are we talking about curtains and Fushimi sighs dramatically, what a virgin after all. 

Yata almost jumps up once again and this time imagine his barber isn’t able to tell him to sit down quickly enough and ends up chopping a big chunk of hair right off at the top of his head. Fushimi cracks up at this, because now Misaki really has a bald spot. Yata’s all that’s it, I’m gonna kick your ass, and Fushimi’s like any time Misaki — and he leans forward too fast, just in time for his barber to cut his long bangs neatly off. The two of them just stare blankly at each other for a moment, Yata with his bald spot and Fushimi with his short uneven bangs, and then the two of them are then promptly kicked out of the barbershop and told not to come back. Yata pulls his hat over his bald spot as he complains this is all Fushimi’s fault, Fushimi’s like how is it my fault you’re an idiot as he fusses with his bangs to try and get them to lay right.

[ohanny]

more of anny's pit babe season 2 plans that'll never come true

so before i go full delulu let's set up a basic premise of belief i have for season 2:

tony is dead-dead. we will see him but only in flashbacks or as a hallucination because lord knows he has fucked with our boys enough to do some ptsd ghost fuckery.

way is fake dead. he has the perfect power to make it believable and come on, what's one more fake death in this show? like he totally thought he would die but when he didn't, he was disappointed and thought a clean break would still be better for everyone and then, with nothing to lose, started a bit of a rampage but more on that later.

anyway. this would mean the second season needs a villain and while way will definitely be in that mix… we still need actual evil. now, if i was in charge, i would pick the prosecutor. even better if the prosecutor was a woman. because someone had to be in charge of handling the mess of tony’s deeds and the prison trio and oooh, a state prosecutor would be so tasty, because hear me out:

tony had his greedy, criminal fingers everywhere. he had to. he bribed and he did business - both regular crime and selling kids crime - with all kinds of people, including high up government officials. see our boy way would go on a shadowy mission to destroy and expose tony’s network, using his powers left and right to make people admit to their part in the atrocities. this would quickly become a huge problem to all those politicians, law enforcers and justice department members who were very happy to just sweep the entire mess under the carpet.

which is why the prosecutor, a bit corrupt herself, would use her power to get kenta, winner and dean out of prison on the condition they would hunt down way. they worked with him, right? considered him family? they know how he operates and not only are they expendable, but they're very willing to do her bidding for the price of freedom and clean records. (having their prosecutor show up in the prison yard would also explain those looks dundunduu.)

and this is where it would get spicy.

pete would have also been suspicious of way’s death from the start and after certain people connected to tony start ruining their own lives seemingly out of nowhere, he becomes convinced way is out there and starts looking.

the prosecutor tells the trio this is all about locating way and then the police would handle the rest but it becomes obvious - at least to kenta - not all of them got the same memo.

pete and the prosecutor having a tense, overly polite meeting where a handshake immediately sets pete on edge. he seeks out kenta afterwards, only to find out he doesn't need to convince his brother of anything because kenta looks at pete and says “she's plans to have winner kill way before he can talk.”

the prosecutor absolutely playing into babe’s trauma, creating a rift between some of the x-hunter members. imagine her holding his hands and looking him in the eye while softly confessing she believes way is doing all of this for babe, to win babe back, fueling his paranoia and ptsd and taking advantage of that vulnerability to manipulate him.

both charlie and kim smell a rat when they look at the prosecutor - charlie hates the way she speaks to babe and kim has a nose for this kind of thing. but since charlie is busy taking care of babe and keeping the hag away from him, kim volunteers to do the actual sniffing which would relate to my earlier season 2 hc about how kim ends up somewhat reluctantly teaming up with the prison trio and reporting to pete.

so the entire season two would be like a cat and mouse game between self-destructive, unhinged way, team lover boys and the corrupt claw of the law featuring babe’s fractured mental health, charlie’s guilt about causing it and if we want some added conflict between alan and jeff, well... i could see alan, busy trying to keep his family and the garage together, blindly trusting the law and jeff thinking he's being naive and feeling his concerns are being dismissed. and boom, you have all the drama and action you could hope for!

additional things i wouldn't mind seeing:

i know everyone raves about the northsonickim trifecta BUT jeff and north unexpectedly bonding as the two omegas. like jeff saving / stopping north from doing something stupid because north is shit wasted and heartbroken and all alone because sonic left and now kim’s ditched him as well. or have one of them go into a heat with the other being the only one present because everyone else is too busy playing detective or pretending there is no problem.

kim and pete sharing screen time. kim being cagey about pete’s powers and pete being curious about kim’s motives. the sexual tension of these two circling each other while discussing kenta!

winner and dean hate fucking and, once they're done, laying side by side, smoking and talking about their future. dean talks about getting ordained to pay for his sins. winner having a moment of guilt because dean still thinks he's doing the right thing here and this will help way.

jeff trying to seduce alan but alan falling asleep on him for the sheer comedic audacity.

that grave reunion being episode 10 aka the one before shit truly goes down. sonics back, it's a good day, but pete knows way is close by, winner is stalking the grave site with a gun, way is in the bushes...