#usually i run a poll for the people to choose

[definitelyblanc]

gonna try and stream tuesday if i got some energy in me, got a 6 am shift + some housework so everythings up in the air atm if i do itll be the same time as last time, 'round 7-8 pm est, hopefully wrapping up signalis and getting to decide on the next game(s)

[sixosix]

'cat' the son | itoshi rin

( a/n ) when i came back the poll was 50/50 so i got bribed and it’s now decided that rin is the winner + little highschool au bc we all know they dropped out:/ idk what to title this im ngl

there’s a cat on the sidewalk.

you have about six dollars in your hand, a faltering mission to treat yourself to a cold drink, and an aching heart at the sight of the little animal seated like a king on concrete, looking up at you with blank eyes.

its dark fur and near-teal eyes remind you of someone. of a back facing your seat, dark hair always kept neat and looking like it’s conditioned meticulously, and the sharpest eyes you have ever seen on a high schooler.

it has been a long day, long enough for you to have stormed out of the room as soon as classes ended to rush to the nearest shop that would sell what you’re craving. alas, there is a cat on the sidewalk, and you can’t just ignore it.

“stay here, kitty,” you say before rushing off with the six dollars in hand and a new goal to head straight to the nearest sign with an animal cardboard cutout printed on it.

eventually, you find one; eventually, you come out of the store holding cat food and a tiny cat bowl because you were worried about letting the cat eat straight from the can. it’s baby blue with little fishes added as design, though you think it’s rather gruesome to put that there, considering the canned food you bought is made from fish. still, you hope the cat will appreciate it.

the cat is still there as if it’s understood and blessed you with patience. the unimpressed look it has on its face says otherwise, though. grateful, you kneel beside it, slightly mesmerized by the fact that it hasn’t run away yet.

maybe other people are feeding it, too? it doesn’t look worryingly thin. needs a little cleaning, but looks well-fed. you’re relieved.

“here you go,” you coo, ignoring the strange looks of the passersby. you place the bowl down and crack open the can. the smell has the cat walking over, meowing all crankily. “i know, i know.”

the cat doesn’t dig in until you’ve finished shaking off its contents, staring at you in the same way the itoshi guy in your class would. the resemblance is uncanny.

you spend the rest of your afternoon keeping the cat company. its face speaks as if it’s far from amused, but the way it rubs against your ankle contradicts it.

cute. the cat is cute.

another student comes to visit the cat, carrying two cans of cat food. it’s been sitting in the plastic for a little while because as he had been going in the same routine he usually has, he spots you, his classmate, bent to the knees next to his cat, and paused.

rin thinks you’re scared of him because everyone in the class is. he lets you have your moment, choosing to come back later when you’ve finished so you don’t freak out and scare the cat. he thinks he can strike up a conversation tomorrow where there are no cats to frighten.

the cat walks up to him, instantly familiar. he doesn’t even meow up at rin impatiently, which confirms rin’s suspicions.

“y/n fed you well,” he mumbles. “i guess you can have this tomorrow.”

you’re suddenly all too aware that rin sits in front of you. he’s right there, uniform stretched over his broad back, most likely because he’s the prodigy of soccer in your school.

the neatness of his hair reminds you of the cat from yesterday, with its silky dark fur despite being a stray. you resist the urge to touch it, missing the cat already. you make a mental note to refill your water bottle so the cat can drink after.

while left thinking about the fact that you’re three dollars shorter than yesterday's budget, you fail to notice that class has ended and rin has his arm slung over the top of his chair to turn to look at you.

rin’s eyes flicker down to the paper bag next to your feet. “what’s that for?”

startled by the smoothness of his voice directed at you, you choke out a: “t-this?” you gesture lamely at the bag containing the gruesome bowl.

“what else am i referring to?”

you scrunch your nose. “okay, no need to be so rude. maybe i won’t tell you what it is.”

rin stares, and you’re intensely reminded of piercing eyes looking up at you, patiently waiting for the canned tuna.

“it’s a cat bowl,” you murmur, defeated.

“cat bowl,” he repeats, a gleam in his eye. he probably thinks you’re weirder than he already thinks you are.

“for a stray. i don’t want to bring it around because some other cat owner might steal it. i can’t have that.”

“show me,” he demands.

a little terrified by the fact that the class grump is actively maintaining a conversation with you; you obediently show him the bowl, spinning it around to show all sides. rin hums, contemplative. your classmates are starting to stare. “it’s weird, right? fishes for the print and fishes for dinner. do you like it?”

“lukewarm.”

“what does that even mean?”

“it’s too small. buy a new one.”

“...you think?”

rin nods, standing up. the chair screeches while he says, “i’ll come with you.”

this is how you end up in the same pet supply store with a companion this time. rin picks the most expensive one for the bowl and the canned cat food, which makes you think he must really like cats a lot.

but as you two leave the store, you belatedly realize he’s leading the way even though you never told him anything about the stray you meet.

it doesn’t hit you until the same cat meows and purrs at rin, rubbing against his pants with its entire body.

“hi,” rin says, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

you gape. “wait, the cat’s yours?”

rin bends down, knees to his chest while he sets the bowl down and cracks the can open with one finger. “no. dad’s allergic. he doesn’t follow me back home anyway.” while he does that, the cat comes to greet you, and your heart aches on rin’s behalf.

so he just comes to feed him every day, huh… you muse, gently scratching the cat who purrs at your attention but still looks as if he’d rather be anywhere but here.

“do you have a name for him?”

rin pauses, having finished pouring everything. “...no.” he squints at you as if you’ve just asked him the exact coordinates of his birthplace: sincerely confused.

“what do you call him, then?” you watch as the unnamed cat starts digging down on the food, content. you wonder why no one else has already kept this cat to themselves. he’s so cute and polite.

“cat.”

“ah, of course.”

you two watch ‘cat’ eat, content with the silence. it starts to drizzle moments later, but rin is quick to pull out an umbrella and cover all three of you. the cat grumbles unhappily at the splatter of rain hitting him.

“do you always visit him?”

“yes.”

“do you like cats?”

“yes.”

a shame that allergies are the only thing keeping itoshi rin from getting a cat.

while you’re distracted, the cat goes back to rin. rin wastes no time bending down to pick him up, looking awfully domestic in the middle of a sidewalk in front of a busy coffee shop. your hands twitch to reach for your phone, but you’re too stunned to do anything but stare. they look so much alike.

cute, you think, horrified, rin looks so cute holding the cat.

while engulfed in rin’s arms, the cat meows at you. and you, with a too-tender heart, can’t resist.

“i’ll keep him,” you declare with newfound determination. “i’ll take care of him. if you let me keep the bowl you bought.”

rin’s eyes light up, though it wouldn’t have been evident if you hadn’t been his classmate and witnessed his varying expressions of death. (as if it was varying in the first place.)

“i’ll buy everything else he’ll like,” he says, like a true cat mom, his face glowing with barely concealed excitement.

since then, rin accompanies you home. you tell him that you’ve saved up three dollars from yesterday and now you have more than enough to buy a nice, cold drink and maybe catnip for the cat, but rin insists that he’ll pay for everything, including your beverage.

“you feed our son.”

“our son?” he repeats curiously.

“yes. he lives with me. he looks like you,” you explain absentmindedly, setting up the water dispenser on the new food bowl rin ended up buying. it no longer has fish for design or the painful lime green he bought the second time—instead, it’s a nice blue that compliments the cat’s eyes.

“and what are you implying is going on between us?”

you nearly spill water all over the floor. “i…” you honestly did not think about that, “—nevermind. don’t make it weird, itoshi!”

you think you heard rin chuckling, but you’re too busy being embarrassed to bother.

(during class, you will find that rin is far from intimidating. in fact, he’s actually a little bitch to deal with. you’re starting to think that he’s more of a pain to deal with than an actual grumpy cat.

“don’t forget to buy food for our son,” rin says after class, in front of students who gossip like there is no tomorrow.

“what?”

“for our son,” rin says, nonplussed at the sight of your haunted expression.

someone who has overheard the conversation pipes up, “you two have a son?”

“we don’t!” you hiss, face burning with embarrassment at the sudden influx of attention from your classmates.

rin frowns. “don’t lie.”

“you two are starting to act like a married couple recently…” another comments offhandedly.

“itoshi walks y/n home, i saw!”

“we have a son,” rin agrees, and you’re starting to think that he’s doing it on purpose.

“stop saying that!”)

thank u art aanobrain for giving me the idea of rin just naming the cat ‘cat’. that idea is so special to me.

anyway. RIN IS SO HARD TO WRITE HELPPPP. this was an excruciating process i genuinely did not know if i did anything right but WHAT’S DONE IS DONE. thx for reading <3

[infamous-if]

.2

I know, I know. It took 2 months to write the second drabble from the poll but...this is not even a drabble anymore. Instead, it's more of a collection of scenes mostly because if I do write how Orion found and began managing the band it would be an entire chapter. I will say that I condensed this due to that, but if I ever do write the whole thing it might look a *little* different. I had to cut corners and shorten scenes for the sake of length. Still, hope you like it! (This is 4, 363 words btw. what is wrong with me) I should probably find a more efficient way to share such long works but whatevs. As always, ignore any mistakes or typos or wordy sentences or sentences that probably make no sense upon reading it a second time. I don't edit drabbles and I always just publish the first drafts. haha.

“…Love me and hate me, I don’t mind as long as you take me—”

A low grumble rises in Orion’s throat when the song pauses, the car falling into an unfamiliar silence just as it slows in front of a red light. His large hands tighten their grip on the wheel, and his eyes glide to his co-worker, Marty, just as he’s pulling his hand away from the PAUSE button on the console. 

“Is there a reason you’re touching my stuff?” Orion asks, his voice carrying its usual calm that holds a level of ice that has even his superiors shuddering when they think he’s not looking. 

Marty licks his lips, his face twisting into its usual expression of guilt. Orion softens his face for his friend’s sake.

Orion Quinn knows the impact he has on people. The rumors that plague him have reached his ears on multiple occasions; he’s a shell of what he once was, never having gotten over the one who got away. He’s detached, the merciless worker that the boss goes to when he’s in need of someone who can do the firing.

 He’s the one people are afraid of crossing or talking casually to in fear of letting something slip. People fear him more than they fear the execs. 

It wasn’t always like this, sure. Once, Orion used to smile freely, used to talk openly and wear vulnerability like a favorite coat. But then the divorce happened and sides were taken. Suddenly, the armor he didn’t know he had was reinforced, dented and bruised from a battle he didn’t expect to fight, but reinforced nonetheless. 

Never date your co-workers. 

“The song is terrible, man.” Marty sighs, running a hand through his oily brown hair when he plops back in the seat. The same seat he pushed back at a 120-degree angle. Admittedly, it makes Orion’s nerves flare up. He says nothing;  he has enough self-awareness to know that complaining about his seat is a bit too much, even for him. “I was doing both our ears a favor.”

The light changes and Orion absently drums his fingers on the wheel as he drives on ahead, eyes gliding outside to soak in the densely populated street underneath the rising sun. “Yeah.” The word comes out in a resigned breath. “I was hoping it’d get better.” 

“We were on the bridge,” Marty throws back. “The only way it could get better is if it ended.” Orion’s lip twitches and of course, Marty can’t let it go. ”Oh! That was an almost-smile.” He leans forward to poke Orion’s rib. 

Orion lets out a laugh before his face quickly drops.

Marty grins, plopping his elbow on the ledge of the car door. “All I’m saying is you’ve been listening to demos nonstop this whole month. Not once have I seen you even mildly excited for any of them.”

Orion grits his teeth. “I haven’t had anything substantial to show the team in ages. Our last artist pulled out on signing with us last minute. Our established artists aren’t selling as well anymore. The industry is getting oversaturated—“

“—and we need to be ahead of the curve. Yadda, yadda.” Marty rolls his eyes. “Do you ever just relax? Damn. That stick up your ass is ten-feet lon—“

Marty chokes on his words when Orion’s eyes cut to his. “Say anything else and I’m kicking you out of my car.” 

Marty pouts but relents anyway, choosing to change the subject. “What about dating?”

Orion keeps his eyes on the road but quirks a brow. “What about it?”

“You know…” Marty starts, gesticulating vaguely as he searches for the right words. “Maybe putting yourself out there could help you relax. Or even inspire you—“ 

“No.”

“What? Okay, but—"

“Not interested.”

“You didn’t even know what I was going to sa—“

“Don’t have to.” 

Marty huffs and says nothing for a long moment. Neither of them rush to fill the silence; normal for Orion but unusual for his infinitely more talkative friend. It’s only when he pulls into Carolina Records’ parking lot that Marty speaks again and Orion realizes his silence was really just contemplation.

“I know the divorce was difficult,” he starts, delicate, “but—“

Orion’s jaw clenches.

“— that doesn’t mean you should give up.”

Orion sits there a moment, fingers clenching into fists. “It’s not giving up if I never tried in the first place.” He swings open the door and steps out, the car door slamming with a hint of finality.

. . .

Carolina Records boasts a twenty-floor skyscraper made up of floor-to-ceiling glass windows and sleek, dark marble floor. Orion has been here since he graduated college; going from a measly intern to an A&R representative responsible for finding two of the most promising artists in the company. 

That was a year ago. Since then, the well of new talent has dried up and Orion doesn’t know what to do.

Of course, he was offered higher positions, all of which he quickly denied. Orion always had a knack for numbers and trends, discovering what new genre is going to come to the forefront, seeing what kind of music the general public is listening to. Music: he understands it better than people. His understanding is almost clinical: while people listen to it for enjoyment, Orion seeks the patterns, the feelings that every beat and scale and vocal run they invoke. He takes it apart and puts it together like a surgeon does a patient. It just makes sense to him. 

He could do so much more, he knows that, but none of that interests him.

The music—that’s what he likes. 

Discovering new talent is what excites him. Which is why this odd dry spell has him walking with gritted teeth and tension between his shoulders-blades. He has to do something.

“Mr. Quinn.” 

Orion nods at a woman who passes by the hallway, ignoring the way Marty does a whole spin when he tracks her retreating frame down the hall.

Another one. This time a man from the marketing department. “Good Morning, Mr. Quinn.” 

“Morning.”

Marty scoffs when the man continues walking, not sparing him a glance. 

“Am I chopped liver or something?” Marty complains.

“Mr. Quinn, hey!”

“Hi.” Orion nods his head once and presses the elevator button. When his eyes land on a frowning Marty he says, “You’re just not sociable.”

“Huh?!” Marty then lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched sputter of a laugh. “And you are?”

Orion frowns. “Yes.”

Another laugh. “You’re smart, dude, you know it’s more because of that”— he gestures vaguely at him—“than your social skills.”

The elevator doors open with a cheerful bell and they step inside. “What?”

“You know.” Marty shrugs. “Your face. You look like you should be on a billboard advertising overpriced cologne with your shirt unbuttoned and your hand in your hair talking about your luxurious life or something.”

“That’s…specific.”

Marty shrugs. “I read a lot of GQ.” 

Orion wrinkles his nose when they spin to face the doors. “While it is true I would be considered objectively handsome by societal standards—“

“Oh, fuck off.”

“—I don’t think that’s the case.” This time Orion lets out a small smile. “Or maybe it is?” He quirks a brow at his co-worker. “Should I send a gift basket to my parents? A ‘thank-you-for-the-superior-DNA gift?’”

Marty shakes his head.  “You know, when you do try to be funny you still sound like an asshole.”

Orion hums, the joke tickling him enough for him to let out his first smile of the day. 

The elevator doors sing their arrival and they bid farewell once they part to go to their respective offices. Orion strides to his corner office where another one of his co-workers, Kass, is standing with a box in her hands.

“This week’s demos.” Orion is just putting his arms out when she plops the boxes on them. “You should really stop requesting unsolicited demos. It’s such an outdated way of doing things.”

Orion ignores her and unlocks his office door, turning the knob and pushing it open with his hip. His office is barren but spacious, with high windows overlooking the city. Marty told him once that people would kill to have his office, but really it’s just like any other space. What’s an office without a productive person to work in it? Orion hasn’t done anything of meaning in weeks.

Sighing, he drops the box on the table unceremoniously, picking up the first CD on the top of the pile. GROUNDED IN REALITY reads the title, and it’s so apt that he almost chucks the CD in the trash on that very fact alone. Still, he’s nothing if not fair. Another sigh escapes him and he gets to listening. 

. . .

Helpless.

That’s how he feels.

After hours of listening, the music has long since blurred together in a portrait of uninspired melodies and generic, radio-friendly lyrics. Nothing stood out, nothing made him want to dig into the song in search for more, nothing made him feel.

Is it me? Am I the problem?

Jaw clenched, Orion fishes out his phone, the usual flinch coming to him when he sees the background. He forgot to change it, and it’s always an (unwanted) surprise whenever he sees a picture of them together. 

One year ago. The beach. Happy.

Shaking his head, he sends a quick text to his mother telling her that he’ll have to raincheck on their dinner. He still has half a box of songs left. Looks like he’ll be staying late.

“Yo, Orion!” A knock. “Let’s go! I want to driiink.”

Or not.

Marty strides in without waiting for an invitation, a grin on his face. “Tab is on me.”

“Do you ever work?” Orion asks, eyes half-lidded in equal parts annoyance and indifference. 

His friend frowns. “This is work.”

“I don’t think getting drunk is in the job description.” Orion looks down, absently clicking on the button of his mouse in an effort to busy his hands. 

“Wah, wah. Don’t be a fucking party pooper.”

 “Too late.”

Marty shoots him a look. “A few artists are playing tonight. Call this recruitment.” He uses spirit fingers. “Maybe you’ll even loosen up for once.” When Orion looks at him, a brow raised, Marty drops his hands. “Yes, I do my job sometimes. Don’t look so surprised.”

“It’s not that,” Orion starts. He doesn’t immediately continue. Instead, they simply stare at each other. Marty wiggles his brows as Orion narrows his gaze. “When you say the tab is on you—“

Marty whips out a black card. “Company card, baby!”

Orion palms his face with a long groan as Marty begins to moonwalk across Orion’s office. “I was perfectly fine staying inside.” Even though he says this, a moment later he stands and grabs his trenchcoat from the back of the chair. “And you’re driving.”

“What!” Marty stomps his foot as he follows him out. “Nooooo.” 

. . .

The bar sits in a livelier part of the city, a part that Orion doesn’t often find himself in. It’s less about the scene and more about the memories associated with every damn corner of this place. Orion can pluck a memory from his mind like a petal from a rose garden: the diner they went to and fought for fifteen minutes over who would get to pay the bill, the park they spent their lunches at.

The shop where he bought the ring.

“This place is golden,” Marty says, breaking Orion out of the string of memories he wishes he could erase forever, “it’s like a real gritty, underground hole-in-the-wall vibe.”

“Sounds like fun,” comes out of Orion in a dour tone that has Marty rolling his eyes. 

They stride through the neon glow of the brick hall until it opens up to a dimly lit bar. The space is humble; the sparse crowd is compensated by the energy of the performers on the stage. 

“Stacy, do you remember when I mowed your lawn…?”

“Is the band really covering Fountains of Wayne?” Orion says through gritted teeth.

Marty bites his lower lip, his obvious attempt to stifle laughter only making Orion’s faux horror flare even more. “Maybe.” Marty spins around, shimmying his shoulder. “You don’t agree that Stacy’s Mom Has Got It Going on?” Marty then realizes something and laughs. “You know, I dated a Stacy once. Weirdly enough, her mom wasn’t that bad looking—“

Orion sighs and quickly moves to the bar. “I need a drink.”

Whatever hope Orion had of finding new talent is gone in the face of the line-up. It quickly becomes obvious that the performers are composed of people who aren’t taking the ‘gig’ seriously or patrons that are half-drunk and stumbling on the small stage.

Worse that the place is pathetically empty; it’s only them two and three other stragglers eating stale fries and bobbing their heads to the music, more out of obligatory politeness than anything else. Orion is suddenly regretting taking Marty up on his offer. 

Orion drinks his lager through periodic gulps, his desire to forget this night growing with every person that performs. The memories of this area coupled with his lack of work lately make him dizzy. He wants to escape. Quit. Scream. All of it.

“Get me another,” Orion says, much to Marty’s delight.

More and more people perform until Orion has lost any focus on the stage. Instead, he entertains himself by watching the game on the TV, having long given up on finding any new promising talent in a place like this. 

“Next up we have”—the bartender stops, her eyes narrowing as she tries to read something off an index card—“er, [band]. Yeah. Give them a round of applause.”

With how few people are in attendance, the applause is less applause and more awkward clapping that quickly dies after two. 

The people on stage are younger. Immediately, Orion notices that they’re equipped with actual instruments instead of relying on the karaoke machine in the corner. A decisive point in their favor, he decides.

“You said this was a gig…” He hears one of them say to what appears to be the lead singer. The boy wears a red hat, as well as an assortment of chains on his neck. Three other band members set up their instruments, trying not to look too disappointed by the turnout. Still, even with the lager creating a slight fog in his head, Orion knows that look. The moment when hope dies, burning like a napkin to a flame.

“No,” the lead singer says pointedly as they adjust their mic, “I said this was a favor.” In that moment, the singer nods their head at the bartender, who shoots them an appreciative thumbs-up. “A paid favor.”

The boy shakes his head but snorts. “I guess.” 

Once they’re set up, the singer looks ahead, gazing at the bar. Their eyes briefly settle on Orion as they gaze at the few faces in the room. “Hey!” they say, chirpy. “We’re [band]. Thanks for coming out!”

A chorus of muttering replies.

Marty taps on the bar. “Wanna head out?”

Orion, unable to look away, shakes his head. “No. I want to see this.”

The next few minutes feel like a dream. Orion is in a daze as the song plays, the beats piercing through him. The voice sends goosebumps up his arms, the instruments weave together in a perfect harmony that has Orion’s heart racing. When the song ends, it’s too soon. He wants it to keep going. He doesn’t want it to end. 

He wants more.

“Thanks!” The singer says to a smattering of slightly enthusiastic applause. This is the most energy everyone has had all night. They turn, grab their things, and disappear through the curtain. Orion bursts up….

…spilling his drink on the table.

“Oh!” the bartender squeaks as Marty hisses.

“Aw, fuck.” Orion curses, and then flinches. “Sorry. Uh….sorry.” He doesn’t know what his apology is for. Dropping the drink, cussing, or speeding away before he could help clean it up in order to catch the band backstage?

“Hey!” Marty calls. “Where are you going?”

Orion ignores him. He has a one-track mind right now, one focused on finding the band that just made him feel like he hit the jackpot. This. This is what he’s been looking for. 

The door swings open, and the band stop mid-conversation to look at Orion, who busted through the door without so much as a plan or script in place. Instead, he simply stands there. 

“Uh.” One girl, flaunting bright blue hair, says. “Yeah?”

Orion reveals his card, feeling a bit like a robot. He moves on automatic, working through the many thoughts in his head to utter the rest of his words. “Do you have a manager?”

. . . 

“You want to manage us?”

The din of the coffee shop sings with the sound of plates and aimless chatter. It’s been two days since he heard them perform back at the bar, and Orion has been running through his pitch the way one does before an interview. He’s never been this…nervous? Uncertain? In his life. 

“Yes,” is Orion’s only response. He sits on one side of the table while the band sits on the other; an invisible wall between them. He can see it, their apprehension. He is not one of them. 

Not yet, at least. 

“Wait.” The boy Orion learned is named Rowan leans forward, fingers on the table. “How do we know this isn’t a scam?”

“I’m not asking for money. All I ask is for you to show up to play for my boss. That’s it.” Auditions are a lost art. Nowadays artists are recruited through viral internet songs and connections. Two things that always exhausted Orion. It hasn’t been just about the music in a long time. 

Their eyes widen. They all exchange looks, equal parts excited and wary. 

“Why?” [MC], who he learned is the sole singer of the band, asks.

Because you made me feel something. Because listening to you is the first time I felt human in a long time.

He imagines himself waving off those words like mist. “Because you’re the first band that has caught my attention. And it’s not easy to catch my attention.”

The band member named Iris snorts. 

“I’m not trying to be arrogant,” he says blandly, leaning back in his chair to fold his arms over his chest. “It’s the truth.”

“Where do you work?” Another member, Devyn, asks. 

“Carolina Records.”

Multiple pairs of eyes widen.

“Holy shit.” Jazzy laughs. “The Carolina Records?”

Orion nods, used to this kind of reaction. Starry-eyed artists are pretty much the same when it comes to Carolina. “Yes.” He leans forward, his heart racing. “Just one audition. That’s all I ask.” 

He watches as they all exchange looks; a silent language only they share. After an agonizing moment, [MC] turns to him and nods. “When?”

. . . . 

Orion has been pacing for the last half hour.

He stands outside Carolina’s humble theater space, chewing on his nails as he waits for his boss, Jacob Hill, and a smattering of other executives and shareholders that will be the final word in whether Orion can work with [band]. He hasn’t asked for something this big in so long that Jacob Hill immediately said yes, more out of excitement and surprise than anything else. Orion did produce two of their most profitable artists in the company. 

The elevator doors open and Orion stops in place, head whipping up to see them walking through the hall in a wave of black suits and greased hair. Orion brushes down his shirt, trying to dampen his nerves. Jesus. Nerves? Get a grip, Orion. 

He doesn’t know how to stand as he waits for them to approach. Hands in pockets? Arms crossed? Orion is so indecisive he just resorts to standing straight, arms at his sides. 

“Mr. Hill.” Orion shakes his hand, clearing his throat. He makes his polite greetings to the rest of the team and says, “Thank you for making time for me.”

“Always, Orion.” Jacob slaps a large hand on his back. “You’re one of my best. You should ask me for favors more.”

Orion lets out a small, slightly nervous laugh. “Ah, you know. I like to—“

“—do things on your own,” Jacob finishes, a soft smile on his face. “I get it.”

He slowly looks up, meeting Jacob’s eyes. In them he can see the familiar pity he’s gotten since the divorce. 

It’s Orion’s fault, really. If he didn’t isolate himself and turn into what he is now, people wouldn’t look at him and assume he’s broken inside.

Would they be wrong in their assumption, though? Am I broken inside?

“Shall we?” another executive says, and Orion bobs his head in a nod, pushing away the image of Jacob’s face.

Inside is a small theater, the stage just big enough for one artist. The seats are plush leather, the lights dim but blue. Jacob always likes the spectacle, and he catered this space to feel like a real performance for possible signees. Orion decides against sitting, too nervous to do anything but stand in the back, giving them the signal he taught them in his pep talk before they came.

[MC] nods. “Um. Hi. We’re [band]. I’m [MC] and this is Iris, Rowan, Devyn, and Jazzy. And um…this is [song].”

Orion flinches at the lackluster introduction. Doesn’t matter, he thinks, unfamiliarly optimistic, the music will do the talking.

And it does.

But not in the way he thought.

All throughout the song, Orion peeks at Jacob and his team. He wants to celebrate when he sees them bobbing their heads, wants to curse when they get on their phones. Orion has never worried this much in his whole career. He’s never wanted something so bad. 

He’s never allowed himself to want. Not after the divorce. 

He didn’t think he was deserving of getting what he wanted. 

The song ends, and Orion lets out a breath. There’s muffled chatter between the men, and on stage the band crowd together, hopping in place as they let out their remaining nerves. 

Jacob stands, the rest following. Orion speeds ahead, wanting to see the thoughts on his face. Instead, Jacob simply regards him with thin lips.

“They were…good,” Jacob whispers, putting a hand on Orion’s shoulder and guiding him out of the room and to the empty hall, “but I think we’re going to go in another direction.”

Orion’s positivity leaks out of him like an open faucet. “What.”

Jacob inhales through his nose. “Look, the singer is talented. They all are. I understand why you like them but…” He shakes his head. “I don’t think the guys see it. And plus,” he shrugs, “they don’t have what we’re looking for.”

Orion’s brows furrow. His stomach drops in itself and his mouth dries. “They have another song. They could play it—“

“Orion.” Jacob gives him that pitying expression again. Fucking hell. He wants to smack that expression off his face. “I know you’ve been…off, since the divorce. You haven’t been on top of your game, and I’ve been giving you your space. It’s not easy, especially since you worked together—“

“I’m fine,” he says tightly.

“—but you can’t…fixate on something to get over it. You need to do it the healthy way. The old Orion would’ve brought me someone with pizzazz. With that unique Orion touch, you know?” Jacob pulls him close. Orion is reduced to a scolded child, unable to do anything but listen. “This isn’t the Orion I know. You usually bring me diamonds.” 

“I—“ Orion swallows. “I’m trying.” And it’s the most honest thing he’s said in ages. He’s trying. And it’s not working. He’s been trying the day he signed that fucking divorce paper and signed the only life he’s known away. 

“I know you are,” Jacob says, squeezing his shoulder. “Sometimes we miss, and that’s alright.”

The rest of the group filter out and both Jacob and Orion step back, trying to hide any sign of their tense conversation. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Orion nods slowly, the lump in his throat growing as he feels multiple eyes on him. His jaw is clenched, his eyes are downturned. He can hardly look at his boss.

He stands there, frozen, forced to listen to their careless chatter as they walk down the hall. The moment they stepped out of those doors, they forgot about the band. The same band that made him feel something, the first time since his divorce. The same band he can’t get out of his head. The same band that proved he is not broken. He can still feel.

And they don’t even fucking care.

“I quit,” Orion says, the words coming out of him before he could even think. Jacob and Co turn around, twin expressions of shock on their faces. Orion looks up, straightening, trying to look even an inch of the Old Him.

“What?” Jacob blurts. 

“I quit.” Orion swallows. “I’ll formally hand in my resignation tomorrow.” He bows, trying to muster up the little respect and professionalism he has in him. “I’m sorry.”

“Orion—“

He spins around, walking back inside. 

The band is still on stage, this time all packed up and ready to go. When the door closes, they all look up, their hopeful and wide eyes on Orion as he walks down to the stage.

He stops in front of it. He puts two palms on the stage, looking at the members of the band he will take to the top. He promised it to himself…two minutes ago.

“I’m going to ask again,” Orion says through his teeth, his heart racing with the adrenaline of his quitting. What the fuck is he doing? And why does it feel so good? “Do you still need a manager?”

When he looks up, the band stares at him in silence.  

He witnesses [MC] look behind him at the door, where Jacob and his team left. As if realizing something, they look back down. “Yeah. You okay with another artist in your roster?”

“Yes.” Orion nods. He’s okay with it. 

Because all he needs is one. 

[kangshxrtie]

ch. 22 ⤍ PICK ME

you started your stream with your usual energetic greeting, glancing at the chat as it started to flood in with messages. you leaned back in your chair, smiling, ready to dive into the updates.

"so earlier today, i filmed this video with leeseo and wonyoung," you began, trying not to laugh too hard at the memory. "first of all, never let wonyoung behind the wheel—she scares me. she couldn't keep her hands on the wheel because she freaked out every time the car moved even a little. now, leeseo? that kid is wild. for some reason, she's actually good at driving." you paused for effect. "like, way too good for her age."

user1 idk who even let wonyoung behind the wheel. she's literally scared of driving.

you nodded, laughing softly. "i was wondering the same damn thing," you replied, shaking your head.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ when do i get to drive you? 😏

you raised an eyebrow at the comment. "you driving? should i be scared?" you teased.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ of course not. i'm a great driver!

"i don't know... should i let zuha drive me around?" you asked your chat, knowing exactly how they'd react.

user2 hell no

user3 run yn

user4 ur def not making it out of that one

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i love being a mod. there's so much power here.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i'm banning everybody who said i can't drive!

you couldn't help but laugh at her response. "you can't just ban my whole chat, zuha!"

reinyourheart wait how is kazuha a mod b4 me? i've known u longer

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ 🤷🏻‍♀️ i'm just good like that.

🗡️_yujin_an damn imagine not being a mod

reinyourheart even yujin

reinyourheart she prob doesn't even use it

🗡️_yujin_an actually 🤓☝️ i use my mod powers all the time to run polls. i'm also an og y/n sub so i got mod

reinyourheart y/n plz mod me since apparently you're just giving mod to anybody these days

"i don't trust you enough to give you those privileges."

reinyourheart but u trust yujin???

"well, not really, but she's our leader," you joked.

reinyourheart banning u from my chat now

"that's fine, i never watch your streams anyways," you quipped, earning a playful gasp from your chat.

reinyourheart 😮 fake

"i'm joking. please don't actually ban me," you said, breaking into laughter. as your giggles faded, your eyes caught an interesting question in the chat.

user1 what type of person do u want to date?

the question made you pause for a moment. "i've actually been thinking about this a lot recently," you admitted.

you leaned forward, ready to dive into your answer. "so, first of all, i like someone with a cool and relaxed personality, but they also need to be bright enough to make me laugh—even with the corniest jokes." as you said this, your thoughts drifted toward someone in particular.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i feel like i can satisfy those requirements

you chuckled softly but kept going. "i also want to date a morning person, so they can help me fix my sleep schedule."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i hate sleeping in

"i really hope they can speak japanese too, 'cause i wanna visit japan so badly."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ me

you grinned, ignoring her comments for now. "another odd requirement—i want them to be good at ballet. it's a talent i just really admire."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ me 🙋🏻‍♀️

"oh, and if they look like bae suzy, that's a huge bonus," you added with a nostalgic smile. "she was my ideal type when i was younger."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ pick me! choose mee!

"and another weird one—they need to randomly start stretching or doing squats whenever they feel like it. bonus points if they have abs. that's just..." you sighed dramatically. "so hot."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i literally fit all the requirements

you finally broke, laughing as you read her string of comments. "i don't know if anybody can really line up to all these standards," you shrugged playfully.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ am i even here rn 😞

"y'all, if you know someone who meets all these standards, let me know," you told your chat, laughing at how many people were either playing along or just laughing at the interaction.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ chat suggest me #ynxzuha

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ imma start banning ppl that type any other name

"you can't threaten my chat like that, zuha," you chuckled, reading her messages aloud.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ chat she noticed me

you shook your head, smiling. "but since you're here, what do you think of all these suggestions?"

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ idk but i think that kazuha girl is pretty cool. i think u wld like her

you pursed your lips in thought. "hmm... i don't really know. i'll have to think about that one."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ trust

"i guess i'll trust you," you said, playing along. "but what are you doing right now? you should join me."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i cant im filming leniverse rn

you gasped. "what do you mean? stop watching me and go film!" you teased, mock-scolding her.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ we good. they're not rdy yet

"alright, just don't get into trouble because of me."

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ talking to u is more important tho :/

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ nobody tell chaewon i said that

"there's a reason i act the way i do—it's because she says stuff like this," you said with an exaggerated sigh.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i miss u lets hang out soon

"we literally hung out yesterday," you reminded her, laughing.

user5 u did?

user6 i miss when y/n updated us

you nodded, leaning into the camera. "yeah, because we filmed the collab!" you added, catching yourself before revealing too much. "when will that be posted, zuha?"

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ shld be posted next week

"okay, tell your team to edit me well," you said with a grin.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i will.

🗡️k_a_z_u_h_a__ i hv to film now talk l8r

"bye, zuha!" you waved dramatically, just as you got a perfectly timed message from yujin that she was almost ready.

"so, today we'll be playing games with yujin, who should be here soon," you announced to your chat. no sooner had you said it, you heard the familiar ping, signaling that yujin had joined the call.

"y/n, why didn't you warn me?" yujin exclaimed, her voice full of exasperation.

you blinked. "what do you mean?"

"leeseo just showed me what you all did in the video today."

"oh, that! yeah, she's crazy with it," you laughed, remembering the madness.

"she was all like, 'you wanna see what i learned?' and i'm thinking, sure, why not—'cause i'm actually curious about what y'all filmed. next thing i know, she reverses fast and does a freaking j-turn. i've never been so scared in my life."

"she did it first try, too. i was just sitting there, in shock."

"i just wish i had talked to wonyoung first," yujin muttered.

"i'm so glad you're the driver in the group. no way we'd be alive if wonyoung was behind the wheel."

"oh, absolutely," yujin agreed quickly. you both laughed before getting connected to the game, ready for the chaos that would follow.

zuhasgf connected

as soon as yujin's character appeared in the game lobby, you rolled your eyes, and immediately opened the menu, kicking her out without hesitation.

"alright, i'm in the game," she announced, unaware of what you'd just done.

"huh? y/n, did you just kick me out?" yujin's voice sounded confused.

you tried to act innocent. "wait, why'd you disconnect?"

yujin groaned, realizing. "you literally just kicked me."

"i think you need a new username," you replied.

"i can't get back in—did you ban me?" yujin chuckled.

"don't blame me because you can't get in the game," you said.

zuhasgf connected.

you immediately kicked her out again, this time banning her completely.

"y/n!" yujin yelled in disbelief.

"i told you to make a new username. i'm not accepting this one," you said firmly.

"just unban me!" yujin demanded, still laughing.

"are you trying to join with the same character?" you asked.

"yeah, did you unban me?"

"...of course," you lied smoothly.

once yujin finally decides to change her name back to normal, you two load into the game, the screen fades in, revealing your pirates standing confidently on a dock, the vast ocean stretching behind them, with a rugged ship rocking gently in the harbor.

"i don't have a shovel, so you're gonna have to do all the digging," yujin lazily announced.

"yujin, if you don't put some type of work in, i might actually fight you," you shot back.

you walk off in the opposite direction when you spot something off in the distance. "there's a ship here," you inform yujin.

she started her pirate roleplay. "arghh! i'm on my way!" yujin replied in a raspy pirate accent, rushing toward the ship with exaggerated enthusiasm.

suddenly, your screen started shaking violently. "what was that?" you muttered, trying to steady your view.

on the other end, you could hear yujin losing her mind, screaming incoherently. there were no actual words, just pure panic as she mashed buttons in a futile attempt to do... something.

while yujin flailed, you spotted an ocean crawler emerging from the sand. remaining calm, you casually pulled out your gun and shot it. meanwhile, yujin continued screaming in terror about something you couldn't even see.

then, out of nowhere, yujin set off an explosion—right next to you. the entire screen flashed red as both you and the surrounding enemies were blasted back.

"oh my god, yujin! what the fuck!" you yelled, your health bar dangerously low as you quickly ate some food to recover.

"you're welcome!" yujin chirped, completely ignoring the fact that she had almost killed you along with the monsters.

the battle ended, and you both wandered around the island, eventually stumbling upon a mysterious shipwreck. a spectral pirate appeared out of thin air, launching into an overly dramatic speech about ancient pirate lore.

"this is actually the longest speech i've ever heard. argh," yujin groaned.

you decided to pull out a ukelele from your inventory. yujin, never one to be outdone, joined in with her singing about finding the pirate captain, her voice cracking from the strain of trying to stay in character.

later, while you were still outside playing music, yujin's shrill voice pierced the calm.

"three ghost ships!" she shouted.

"let's go. we must go on an adventure!" you replied, dramatically diving into the water, heading for the ghost ship, determination in your heart.

however, as you swam, the tide came in, forcefully pushing your character back. you struggled against the current, while yujin, oblivious, had already made it onto your ship and was sailing away.

"yujin! get your ass back here!" you screamed, frantically swimming after the ship. "i'm literally sinking!"

after what felt like an eternity, yujin finally circled back for you. gasping for breath, you managed to pull yourself up onto the deck.

relieved to be back on board, you stood at the front of the ship, surveying the ocean ahead. you felt the wind in your face, the waves crashing against the hull. surely, yujin could be trusted to steer the ship... right?

but then you noticed something alarming. "yujin... we're gonna crash into this rock!" you said, your voice tense.

"anchor!" yujin screamed, but it was far too late. the ship slammed into the rock.

"we're gonna die on this ship. not even from the battles, it'll be from your terrible driving," you groaned.

"naww, we're good," yujin said confidently, somehow managing to reverse the ship and sail around the obstacle, acting like nothing had happened.

you decided to climb up to the ship's bowsprit, balancing precariously on the beam as the ship cut through the waves. "is standing up here a good idea?" you asked, already knowing the answer.

"argh! of course it is!" yujin replied without hesitation.

"is playing music as we go into battle a bad idea?" she asked, joining you upfront with her accordian, strumming an out-of-tune melody.

you pulled out your ukulele from the inventory, matching her energy, and for a moment, it was peaceful—just two pirates making music.

then, without warning, the water around you started to churn. from the depths of the ocean, a massive kraken emerged, its tentacles towering above your ship.

both you and yujin screamed in unison as chaos ensued. you were flung into the water but somehow kept playing your ukulele, refusing to let the music die.

"it's sucking us in!" yujin shouted, her voice on the verge of panic. "load the cannons! we gotta fight this off!"

"can we even fight this thing?" you asked through fits of laughter, doubting your chances.

you quickly switched to the cannonballs, aiming at the monstrous tentacles, firing off shots as fast as you could. you felt like you were making progress, but then you noticed the ship was being dragged deeper into the abyss.

your screen flickered and went dark with a red outline. "what is even happening?" you groaned as your character faded into the ghostly realm.

as a spirit, you wandered aimlessly, spotting another figure. thinking it was yujin, you approached, only to realize it was a random player—a man who's character gave you a casual nod.

"later, dude," he said, disappearing into the void.

you eventually respawned back with yujin, both of you standing on the remains of your ship, now just floating debris in the ocean.

"well, that was a great sea of thieves adventure. we lost everything," yujin said, pulling out her accordion.

you pulled out your ukulele, shaking your head but smiling. "yeah, it was great."

"the fucking kraken..." yujin muttered.

"literally right before the pirate ship, too," you said.

"literally the most random shit," she added, laughing.

"crazy," you agreed, both of you still basking in the aftermath of the chaos.

"anyway, i guess we have to end here," yujin said, the energy winding down.

"yeah, we do," you agreed, starting the stream wrap-up.

you exited the call with yujin, turning your attention to chat. "alright, chat, it's about that time," you said, leaning back in your chair with a relaxed smile. "i'll be live tomorrow for some more games, maybe with a few friends, but i haven't locked anything in yet."

you glanced at the chat as messages rolled in, then continued. "also, keep an eye out—our channel's dropping a new video soon, so make sure to check that out when it's up. but yeah, that's all for today!"

you gave a casual wave. "thanks for hanging out, and i'll see you next time." with a final smile, you ended the stream.

ALL CHAPTERS !!! | NEXT CH !!!

[barefoothighlander]

mary on a cross - until it sleeps

-simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader

-warnings: descriptions of violence, mdni, slight stalker!ghost, male masturbation, mentions of alcohol, unwanted male attention, mentions of smut

-word count: 4.5k

-summary: you've recently moved to manchester, while looking for jobs you come across a run-down pub looking for bartenders. upon meeting its owner simon, you find out there's more to him than meets the eye. mercenary au

next chapter fic masterlist

a/n: okay so the poll isn't over but this au was winning and I got too excited to write it.

Simon woke up to light peering in through the bedroom window, turning his head to glance at the woman that lay beside him in bed. It wasn’t rare that he went home with someone, usually some woman who had come to the pub alone and he ended up chatting with to kill time. To him, these hookups were simply a means to an end, an easy way to get rid of some stress, most times he’d sneak out of their flats before they woke up, praying they wouldn’t come back to the pub for some kind of confrontation, and they usually didn’t. The time spent with his hookups was almost the only source of sleep he’d get, spending his days at the bar and his nights on the streets or rooftops.

He gathered his scattered clothes from the floor quietly, hoping not to wake the sleeping woman whose name he couldn’t remember, carefully dressing and making his way to the front door, descending the stairs and walking out onto the streets of manchester. It was unusually warm for April, with barely a cloud in the sky, a welcome change from the constant rain that the city usually endured, the pub wasn’t far, maybe a couple of blocks, he’d shower when he got there, his own flat residing directly above the pub. The walk was short, Simon occupying his time by watching all the people wander the streets, going into shops or chatting together, he reached the pub, unlocking the door and heading up the steps to ready himself for the day.

You were utterly lost, the city streets a maze to you, you’d lived in the city for close to a month now but you spent most of that time unpacking and organizing your flat. It was modest, to say the least, the best you could afford, but it had a decent bathroom and kitchen, and you were determined to make it feel like a home. Decorating it with plenty of rugs and throw pillows, even having a small open cupboard designated to your collection of mugs, your building was mostly occupied by elderly people and their small dogs, you weren’t central to anywhere but there was a nice coffeeshop across the street which you frequented.

This morning you woke up in good spirits, determined to have a good day after the weeks of stress endured by your move and your ex-boyfriend, you had decided to make the move after finally breaking up with him, 4 years of your life spent being belittled by him and you finally got sick of it, choosing to put as much distance between you and him as possible, but you were running out of money, whatever you have saved up quickly depleting, so today, you had to find a job.

You had ventured to a handful of different shops around the city, giving your resume to anyone who would take it, hoping that one of them would call you back. Yours were exhausted and you heard your stomach start to grumble, facing forward you notice a small pub tucked between a flower shop and a boxing gym, deciding it was as good of a place as any to grab something to eat. Ushing through the heavy doors you’re met with the heavy scent of wood, cigarettes, and whiskey, setting yourself down on a stool at the bar, looking around for any sign of life. It was early but it also wasn’t rare to see a few people littering the pubs around noon. Calling out to anyone who might be there you turn your head at the sound of a door opening, standing up from your stool only to have your entire body freeze.

Your eyes locked on a large blonde man, he was wearing a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but he was massive, tall enough that you’d have to crane your neck to look at his face, his hair was damp, but what you notice first was the number of scars scattered over his arms, some shallow and some deep, all drawing your eyes to the large tattoo on his forearm, black and white but with a heavy amount of detail. Before you could make out any of the markings his deep voice rang through your ears.

“Can I help you love?”

You pull your focus to his eyes, they’re a deep colour in this light, as a smile pulls at your cheeks.

“Yeah, I was just wondering if you serve any food here?”

He shakes his head a little, staring down your form. “No, just drinks, sorry”

You don’t know why, but you feel inclined to stay here, even if it meant enduring an empty stomach.

“Any scotch?” you ask with a tilt of your head

He nods, urging you over to the bar, as you sit down he pulls out two glasses and a bottle of brown liquor.

“That’s bourbon,” you state

“I know, better than any scotch you’ll have in this town”

You laugh a little and he looks up to meet your face, smiling slightly to himself. He slides the glass over to you and you take a small sip.

“Not bad,” you say, he nods in agreement “So do you own the place?”

“Yea, bought it a few years back, needed something to do”

“And it’s just you that works here?” 

“Most nights, sometimes I have a friend come and help out if there's a football game on, too many people for just me”

“So you’re looking for bartenders,” you ask, eyes widening

“Not particularly,” he says furrowing his brows oh. You bow your head a little and continue sipping on your drink.

“You new in town?”

You nod your head, “yeah, moved here about a month ago, need a job” you say as you huff a laugh to yourself.

“You don’t want to work here,” he says as you look up quirking an eyebrow, urging him to explain. “It’s a dingy old pub, always full of rowdy old blokes, not exactly a great position for a pretty young girl” 

You smile, “I can take care of myself, I bartended in college, you should see some of the fights that break out during the Superbowl”

“Believe me doll, Americans are nothing compared to English folk,” he says, finishing his drink before placing the glass below the bar.

“C’mon, give me a shot, if I screw up you can fire me, I won’t be mad”

He stares into your eyes, thinking for a minute, weighing the options in his mind.

“We open at 1 and close at 3 am, can you be here tomorrow?”

Your face lights up and Simon can’t help but smile.

“Yes, I can,” you say, almost jumping from your stool. Simon nods his head.

“I’m serious kid, you mess up my pub and I will fire you,” he says, knowing in his head that it’s a lie.

You’re beaming with joy as you stand up and turn to leave. “I promise you won’t regret hiring me” Before you can leave he shouts over to you.

“Oi, I’m Simon by the way”

You turn and give him your name, and he smiles and waves you out. You practically skip out of the pub, making your way back to your flat, glowing with the joy of a successful job hunt. While Simon stands alone behind the bar, he can’t wipe the smile from his face, you’re just so different from anyone else who comes into the pub, like a physical ray of sunshine, a stark contrast to the environment he stands in. He finds himself repeating your name over and over while cleaning the bartop and preparing for patrons, he’s never felt that calm with someone before, usually keeping conversation to a minimum when people approach him, but you pulled answers from him so easily, he doesn’t know what it is about you that has him taking his guard down, but he’s sure it’s going to get him into trouble.

You wake up the next morning early, you don’t have to be at the pub till 1 but you want to get there early to get some sort of lay of the land, chucking on some denim shorts and a top you make your way, stopping first to grab a coffee for both you and Simon.

When you get to the pub you walk in and find Simon sitting at a table, flipping through papers.

“Good morning” you beam, placing the coffee infront of him, he looks up at you the down to the drink.

“What’s this?”

“Didn’t know what you liked, figured black was my best be” wrong

“I prefer tea” he states plainly as your smile falters a bit, “but thank you”

“Should’ve figured, people aren’t big into coffee here” you say, sitting across from him.

“You’re early” he says, turning his attention back to the pages

“Yeah I-” you stop for a second, looking at his arms, he has a bandage wrapped around his forearm and his knuckles are pink and swollen. Noticing your stare, he pulls his arms off the table to his side. “I just wanted to get a feel for the place before starting”

“Well there’s not much to it, pretty much everything in the front, extra of everything is kept in the back there, and the back stairs just go up to my flat”

“You live above the pub?” you ask

He takes a beat, “Yeah, makes it easy to get to work”

You giggle a little and he can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips.

“So you’ve bartended before?”

“Yea about 3 years total”

“Can you pour a pint?”

“Of course”

“Show me.” he gestures to the bar, you make your way behind it and grab a glass. Stationing yourself at one of the taps you begin to pour.

“That has to be the ugliest Guinness I’ve ever seen,” he says with a smile, you scoff in defence.

“Here let me show you” He scoots his body behind yours, eyes locked on yours. He grabs another glass and gives it to you, holding your hand as you grip the glass, mind suddenly fogging from the close contact. His hands are rough and large, they encapsulate yours. You can smell him, he smells clean, but there’s hints of cigarette smoke and amber. He grabs your attention by pulling the spout down, tilting your hand to hold the glass at a 45-degree angle before allowing the ale to fill the glass, turning it back upright before stopping the pour, letting it settle, then topping it off.

“There, that’s a proper pint,” he says, placing the glass down, chest still pressed to your back. You turn your head back to look at his face and he stares at you for a minute, then quickly breaks focus moving away from you. Chills cover your body at the sudden loss of contact.

“You should probably wear something a little less revealing as well,” he says, gesturing to your shorts “Men around here can get quite crude”

“It’s alright, I’m sure you’ll just beat up anyone who messes with me,” you say jokingly, but he would he’d do more than just beat them up, he nods and smiles in response.

The two of you fill the time making light conversation, it’s mostly you talking but Simon asks a lot of questions, he wants to know where you’re from, what you studied in college, why you moved here.

“Um, I just had to get away from a guy,” you say sheepishly, he nods in understanding and doesn’t pry more, but he can sense a hint of sadness in your tone when you talk about it. 

“So what about you, why a bar owner,” you ask

“Left the military and needed money”

You laugh, “Seriously, that’s all I get”

He grins, “There’s not much to it, I served for over a decade and when I left everything was just so quiet, needed some excitement and I guess I got that in the form of old drunk men shouting at a football match”

A few minutes of silence pass, you continue cleaning tables, “what’s your favourite movie?”

“Huh?”

“Films, movies, what’s your favourite?”

“Uh, I don’t really watch movies”

“Come on, everyone has a favourite movie, it doesn’t have to be some super macho pick, just, what’s your favourite?”

“Only one I can think of is Harry Potter”

“You’ve seen Harry Potter?”

“Yea I took my nephew to see it a while ago”

“Awh thats sweet, do you see him often?”

His smile fades and he turns away from you, “No”

You bite your cheek at the feeling that you’ve overstepped. Finishing your cleaning in silence before the bar opens and people start to fill in. The night was busy, people in and out, constantly running around to bring drinks, thankfully Simon helps you out a lot, pouring drinks and dealing with most of the rude customers. By closing time you’re exhausted, your hair is a mess and your feet are sore. Setting yourself down in a chair after wiping all the tables, you watch as Simon cleans a few glasses, stacking them neatly behind the bar.

“So, am I getting fired” 

Not a chance in hell, “no, you did pretty well” he says

You smile wide, turning to face the ground and blushing to yourself.

“Listen I’ve got some stuff to take care of, so you can take off now if you’d like”

“Oh no, I’ll help,” you say standing to move towards the bartop

“It’s mostly financial stuff, super boring”

“Oh, alright, well I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you say, smiling to him

“Yea, have a good night doll,” he says before turning back to his task.

You gather your things and start walking home, the streets are dark and few street lights guide your way. You still haven’t memorized the route and end up taking a few wrong turns, ending up in an unfamiliar alley, cursing to yourself you turn around before two dark figures come into your line of sight. You feel your breath hitch, quickly making your way out onto the street, you turn back and the men are facing you, picking up your pace, anxiety starts to flood your veins. You hear the men shouting something at you but the sound of blood pumping in your ears is too loud to make out what they’re saying, rushing your way down the streets, the men continue their pursuit. You stare ahead and continue, turning back when you notice their shouting has ceased, you stop in your tracks as the men have disappeared. Confused you look around, maybe they just gave up, you collect yourself and continue home, making it safely to your flat.

You set your things down and lock the door before stripping your clothes and entering your shower, taking your time to clean all the sweat and spilt liquor from your skin. Stepping out in a towel you walk into your bedroom, noticing your open window, you move closer and glance out the window, the alley behind your flat is dark, used mostly to hold dumpsters, but you swear you see the figure of a man leaning against a wall. Mind freezing you panic slightly, shutting the window and closing the curtains before turning to your dresser to pick out something to sleep in.

Simon stumbles into his flat at 4am, his body fatigued, stepping into his bathroom he glances at himself in the mirror, his face covered by his balaclava, only his eyes can be seen. He takes a deep breath collecting himself, before washing the blood from his hands and cleaning his cuts. His knuckles were raw and red, he wraps them loosely and sits on the edge of the tub. He had followed you home, he didn’t mean to but when he left the pub and noticed you taking a wrong turn he wanted to make sure you were safe. Following slowly behind you from the roofs of the buildings, he didn’t want you to see him and get scared, he never wanted to scare you. But when he noticed two men following you he couldn’t just stand by, quickly descending a fire escape to sneak behind the men, grabbing one by the throat and breaking his neck before removing the knife from his belt and placing his hand over the other man's mouth to keep him quiet, and stabbing him in the side of his neck. He pulled the two bodies into the nearby alley and positioned himself so he could see you. Making sure you got back to your flat safely.

He stood outside and waited to make sure you got in, he didn’t mean to watch as you undressed, it made him feel perverse, but he couldn’t find the strength to tear his eyes away, the way your breasts sat, the curve of your ass, he felt his pants tighten at the sight, quickly turning his gaze to anything that would distract him before, occupying himself with his own thoughts. 

It was late, you were home and safe, he should’ve left, but something in him couldn’t, he looked back to the window only to find your towel-clad body staring back at him, he froze, there was no way you could tell it was him, his whole body was covered and it was dark. He watched you quickly shut the window, removing any sight he had on you, Simon huffs a breath to himself, a silent get-it-together, before leaving and making his way back to the pub.

The next morning you woke with a strange feeling, you couldn’t shake the sight of the man in the alley, you make your way to the window and pull back the curtains to look out. Exhaling a breath of course no one’s there, you shake your head, feeling foolish and start getting ready for the day. You had a few errands to run before work, some tidying, and a little bit of shopping considering you had barely anything to eat in your fridge. 

You finished rather quickly, finding that you still had 3 hours before work to kill, you decide to explore the streets in the safety of the daylight. Finally figuring out the quickest route from your flat to the pub, and checking out a few of the small shops that scattered the streets. You engaged in small conversation with the vendors before checking your watch, 12:30, shit, you had to go, thanking the man at the coffee shop for your drinks you made your way to the pub.

You step into the pub but see no sight of Simon, calling out his name.

“In the back” you hear

Making your way to the back room you find Simon looking over inventory with a glass in his hand.

“Little early to be drinking no?”

“Not here it’s not”

You nod to yourself, extending your arm to hand him a hot tea.

“Didn’t know what you liked, just got some milk"

He looks up at you and reached over the accept the beverage before twisting to grab a few sugar packets behind him, dumping 3 packs into the drink. Your eyes widen at the sight.

“Never would’ve guessed you took that much sugar in your tea”

He laughs and shrugs his shoulders. The two of you exit the back room and situate yourselves across from each other at a table, both enjoying your drinks before you break the silence.

“So something really strange happened last night,” you say, Simon stops sipping abruptly, looking up to lock eyes with you, shit she saw me

You continue, “These two guys were following me on my way home and then I turned back and they were just gone” He doesn’t say anything, just keeps watching you.

You take a beat, “then I swear I saw this guy outside my window, but I don’t know, it was dark, was probably just tired or something” you say, shrugging your shoulders

Simon puts his drink down, trying to think of a response.

“Maybe, I mistake trashcans for people sometimes in the dark”

You laugh, “yea maybe”

He remains stoic, sipping his tea. The two of you finish your drinks and fall back into the same routine as the previous day, serving drinks, trying to mediate arguments between drunk patrons. Simon finds himself smiling while watching you engage in conversation with two men, you seemed passionate about what you were saying, throwing your head back in laughter at something one of them said before one of them places a hand on top of yours, Simon stops what he was doing and takes a step towards the 3 of you, stopping when he sees you turn to pour the man another drink. What am I doing, he feels so protective of you and he doesn’t know why, he’s known you less than a week yet he can’t keep his eyes off of you, he shakes the thoughts from his head and moves to the back room.

He spends a few minutes gathering extra liquor to replace what’s missing from the wall before he hears a glass shatter and you yelp, dropping the items and rushing to you he finds you standing over the bar sink, hand dripping blood.

“What happened?” he asks, hand reaching for yours, inspecting it before turning on the tap to run it underwater.

“Glass slipped, cut myself trying to catch it”

He scans your face for any signs of pain or worry but you’re composed, turning to the men in front of you, eyeing them over accusingly, you pull your hand from the water and reach for the medical kit beneath the bar.

“Here I’ll do it,” he says, holding your wrist in one hand whilst using the other to grab some gauze and wrap to dress the cut.

You chuckle to yourself, “Almost seems like you do this often” you comment watching how quick and precise he is with his wrapping.

“Yeah something like that”

He finishes wrapping your hand and you thank him.

“I’ll take over up here,” he says, nodding to you to move away from the bar, you oblige and occupy yourself cleaning up tables littered with empty glasses. The two of you close the bar early as there was barely anyone there by midnight, you offer again to stay back and help Simon clean but he refuses, telling you to go home and get some rest, so you do. Walking your route home on edge, anticipating any sort of unwanted follower but none come, the walk was short as you descend the stairs into your flat and once again prepare for bed.

Simon’s night wasn’t as simple, like the night before he had made sure you got home safe, thankfully this time he didn’t have to kill anyone, but he did find himself lingering at your window again, this time higher up on a set of stairs so that the darkness of the night concealed him. You had neglected to shut your curtains, whether it was ignorance or intention Simon didn’t care, not when he had a perfect view of your naked form, moving around your bedroom he watched as you put on some underwear and a loose t-shirt to sleep, silently wishing it was his clothes you wore to bed, he watched as you dozed off to sleep, sometimes jostling a little in your sleep. He found comfort in knowing you were safe, that he was the one to ensure your safety, before long he found himself getting a little tired, dropping down from his spot to make his way back to his own flat. Simon was no stranger to being awake for a long time, the military ensured that, and he used it to his advantage, easier to stake out a target when you aren’t dozing off, but something about your presence, it brought him peace, he found himself wanting to fall asleep, only to dream of you, your eyes, the way they crinkle a little when you smile that smile, it lights up your whole face, he can’t help but feel his body untense at the thought of your smile, always kind and warm, everything he wasn’t.

He made his way back to his flat without issue, stripping his clothes off before stepping into the shower, standing under the steady stream of warm water his mind wanders. Your face, the smell of your hair, your soft hands, he feels himself growing harder at the thought of your soft hands touching his body, he reaches a hand down to stroke at his length. Your body, the warmth of your skin against his, the curve of your ass, his mind continues as he begins pumping his hand along his length, small groans leaving his mouth. Your tits, how they would feel when he held them, how perfect they would sit in his large hands, rough hands teasing over your hard nipple, the moans you’d release, only for him. He braces his free hand against the tile wall, quickening his pace, he imagines all the noises he could make creep up from your throat, your whimpers, how you’d squeeze him when he told you how good you felt, how he’d make you scream his name while he buried his cock deep inside you. A strangled moan leaves his lips before he starts shooting warm ropes toward the floor of the shower, he takes a minute to collect himself, evening out his breathing. Fuck, he shouldn’t be thinking these things about you, not when you were so innocent and he was so corrupt, he needed you, craved you, but he couldn’t have you, if you knew anything about him you’d run away and he’d never feel your presence again. He’d be fine with never knowing your touch as long as it meant he got to keep you in his life, but God did he want to touch you, every time he saw you he had to fight the urge to press you against the nearest surface and plant kisses all over you, marking you as his.

He stepped out of the shower, turning on the news to try and distract himself from his thoughts only to see the reporter on his screen talking about how more bodies had been discovered in the streets of Manchester and how the police had no leads. He shook his head, he never feared being caught, not when he was so careful to remain unseen, but then, he had nothing to lose, now, he has you, he can’t won’t lose you, not to this, not to some immoral past time, he had to get more creative, the police can’t find any more bodies.

He lay in bed, watching the screen, feeling his eyelids grow heavier before turning to his side and drifting off to sleep. He’s woken abruptly to the sound of his phone ringing, he turns to check the time, 6am, he looks at the screen and answers the call.

“Hello?”

“It was you, I know it was you”

Shit

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles—Update 03/March/2023

We're getting soooo much closer to release, guys! Aahh! :D

This week was mostly social media days, which were really a relief to throw myself into. Had great fun writing the content for Patreon and getting lost in the lore of Wayhaven with asks!

Glad patrons have been having fun with the Spring scenario poll already—glad you guys are choosing them because I would seriously struggle to decide, hehe! ;D

We've also been continuing working on Book Three release content, which will be starting very soon because it's April next month! Can you believe it??? We really want to get the word out about Book Three and Wayhaven as we're hoping to build things from here on so as we can start some really exciting ideas in the future (which we'll go more into after Book Three, as that's the main focus right now, obviously, hehe :D).

I did sneakily get a bit more early planning in on Book Four and, well, along with a change in story, the villain is also getting a personality make-over, lol! I've had this antagonist in my head for soooo long but then a new form of them just popped into my head as I was driving home from the hospital one night, and it has seriously stuck. I can't imagine them any other way now!

For people asking if April 6th is still the release date for Book Three—it is as far as I'm aware! I haven't heard any different. Hosted Games handles the release and decides the date, so I'm just here with you guys with fingers-crossed that it sticks, especially as we've planned the run-up to release with content!

We just want to say again how grateful we are for all of your support, well-wishes, and patience during this tough time with our mum <3 She was taken in for a sudden operation on Tuesday and then Wednesday, and though it's going to be very slow, it really looks like we're on the recovery path now! Finally! It's been such a huge relief after so long. I'm actually writing this update from a table at the hospital waiting until visiting hours start so as I can go see her!

Next week will hopefully be the start of the release run-up stuff, some more not-so-sneaky Book Four planning, and maybe a last look over Book Three if Hosted Games can get the files back to me after their proof-reader (fingers crossed!).

Hope you all have the most fantastic weekend! We'll be offline as usual, but I'll update you all again next Friday <3

[trafficblrpolyamshipbracket]

Welcome to TPSB!

Hello everyone! I have not seen a ship bracket dedicated to polyam ships, especially for ships in the Traffic Life Series / Empires / Hermitcraft sphere so I am creating one. Obviously, this is characters not creators and this is for fun/entertainment, so please keep this lighthearted! Now, may the most beloved polyam ship win!

Current Blog Activity: Semifinals V2 has started! Vote for your favorite polyam ships and create propaganda to sway people to your side!

[V1 Bracket has been concluded! Feel free to make celebratory art of the winner and tag me! I will reblog with the TPSB propaganda tag!]

TAGS

#TPSB polls

#TPSB info

#TPSB propaganda

#TPSB update

INFO

Polls are set to one week and I'll post the next wave of polls soon after it ends.

If you tag this account with propaganda, I will reblog it. If it is nsfw propaganda, I will tag it with the #NSFW tag for minors/people who don't want to see it to filter out if they so choose. If it is not quite NSFW, but rather suggestive, I’ll take it #cw suggestive.

Feel free to put propaganda in the ask box once the shipping starts and I will clear the queue as often as I can!

No ship bashing/shaming please! Not every ship is everyone’s cup of tea, but that just means you stay away from ships you don’t like. As long as it’s safe and legal, ship and let ship :D

I accept ship nominations as first come first serve, no matter how rare or bizarre it may seem to you. If you want to make sure your favorite polyam ship hits the bracket, throw it in the ask box :D

If there is a ship name attached to it, it is usually because the person who nominated the ship used that ship name. Not all ships have ship names that I know of/that I was given so they may be “wrong” or whatever else. Feel free to leave a reply or throw it in my ask box for me to add a ship name if one has it.

Once we get to the end, if all runs well and people enjoy this, there is a chance to run another bracket with a new set of submissions. New ships can be added and old ships who lost can make a comeback.

The bracket is created at random. There is only intervention in round one if the ships pitted against each other are the same plus/minus a person or if the ships feel too unevenly weighted. If so, I dragged one ship and threw it up or down and left it where it landed if that was better than before. This will place popular ships against each other, but I can always run another bracket after this one to give your favorite polyam ship another chance against other ships :D

Winning ships do not get run again. They claim their spot in the Winners list and then get to rest to allow other ships to have a chance to shine :D

This account is run by @deityoftherain who uses they/fae/star pronouns. As one may expect, be as wonky and fun with your headcanons and such when doing propaganda :D

BRACKET

WINNERS

V1: Mumbo/Scar/Grian aka Mumscarian

V2: ??

[i-am-grell]

Anime Poll /lh

For those who are new here, I like anime, but am bad at making decisions, so I run polls to let Tumblr choose what I watch and pit fandoms against each other.

I do need something light-hearted in my life rn, so this will be an all-light-hearted poll (which is subjective, sure, but tailored to me personally).

As always, propaganda* (*rambling) below the poll. You're allowed to reblog this if you wanna bully your followers into voting. Other people's followers and misc., you don't have to know me, follow me, like me, or like anime to press one of the buttons - even if it's at random. Go wild.

Propaganda:

The Disastrous Life of Saiki K. - I have seen everything dubbed with Jerry Jewell specifically, but not the non-dubbed or Reawakened. I may do a rewatch and continue past where I usually stop. I will also have to Pay Attention to subs which is normal to do and possible to achieve.

Zombie Land Saga + Revenge - I'd call the undead girl power series light-hearted (enough to count for the purposes of this poll). Also JK R*wling finally shut the FUCK up so we must celebrate with our icon Lily <3

Horimiya: The Missing Pieces - Light-hearted romance anime shenanigans <3

Buddy Daddies - This anime is another that always comes so close to winning in every poll, so thank you Buddy Daddies fandom for showing up. I admire your hot DILFs.

Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?! - Four more years for me to go. I'll get those cool wizard powers someday. Also I've heard the dub is a li'l unhinged so I'm excited.

Zom 100: Bucket List of the Dead - I'm so down for a light-hearted take on the apocalypse, especially the sort concerning zombies. Dark, gritty, danger every moment? Fuck no. Dicking around because you don't have to go to work? Sign me tf up.

[lovifie]

A little update for everybody for my current and future updates 🩷: (please read it ❤️)

Her Royal Highness: Hiatus. Trust me, I am the saddest about it. It is the first thing I wrote and what made me want to start the blog, but I have kind of lost the vision I had for it and I can't write anything without hating it. Don't worry too much about it because I am really dramatic and might just keep it going on a month 🩷.

Lift me off my feet: Around 4 chapters left. It would make it a 13 chapter series, taking in consideration I started because of a fanart I'm quite impressed with. Still, the little plot that it has is starting to run out and I feel like it is just unnecessarily stretching it, especially since there are other series I want to work on and I can't until this one is finished. I wanted to ask, would you rather have me finish this one “fast” or alternate it with other posts? Fast would be as in focusing on writing only this fic until I finished, and I believe I could have it done next week most likely.

Switch Bodies: Plot wise, around 2 chapters. After that, it would just be random scenarios that I would think of or that you could want me to write. Still, this one doesn't really have a schedule as it is mostly jokes so I can't tell when I'll update.

Spidey: This one will have a slower than usual post schedule since it is going to be interactive and I'll need to leave time between chapters to let everyone vote their favorites. So I'll be a bit more relaxed rhythm of updates.

Poll Fic: Whichever wins the poll (I can't see the results until Monday unless I vote and I'm edging myself like a moron), I won't probably write anything until I finish Lift Me Off My Feet, plus I want to organize a bit the plot so the thing that happens with Her Royal Highness doesn't happens again and I have something to support myself on to finish it. So I'll be a bit of time still.

Those are the series, I'm also working on oneshots and just silly stuff that genuinely I'll post randomly.

Aswell, I wanted to let people know that the on taglist form I removed the option to choose on which fic to me tagged because I was getting everyone mixed and it was becoming too chaotic so now there will be one single taglist. I hope you guys don't mind too much and thank you for understanding. If you would prefer me to remove you from it you can also tell me on the taglist form without a problem. 🩷🩷

There are going to be a couple of days without updates because I'm going to work on tidying everything up a bit so it is easier to navigate the blog. And I'm also going to slow down a bit as well, because I don't understand why I have pressured myself into uploading as soon as possible to the point I'm burning myself out instead of enjoying writing like I should.

That being said, I'm done rambling and complaining. I'd love any kind of feedback, as comments, asks or DM, I always love to read you guys opinion and ideas so feel free to do so ❤️❤️

Sorry for the disappointment of this not being an update let me know what you would rather have happening on the Lift me off my feet fic 🩷

Back to Masterlist - Taglist Form

TagList (1): @1-800-choke-that-ho @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @anirok2 @arbesa-mind @avaleigh16 @blckbrrybasket @bunnysdaydreams @cassiecasluciluce @cheomain @cmbghost @cod-z @coldpaperwonderland @contractedcriteria @cringeycookies @crinoid90 @darkangel4121 @dilara-del @dontworryboutitokie @dukeofjjune @dumb12bvtch1212 @dumybitch @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @evolutionarry @fraserbraw @ghostlythots @ghosts-hoe @glocuseguardian3rd @grenkiesworld @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @hatterripper31 @herefor-tojis-tits @howlove @itsberrydreemurstuff @jaguarthecat @jupiternighties @justyourfriendlyneighbourhood1 @kayden666 @keiraslayz @keiva1000 @kristalhi @l0velifehatey0u @ladyxtiger @lilliumrorum @lolliepopsicle @lolly145 @lotionlamp @lunamoonbby @lunari0 @marymustdie @missmidnight-writes

[echoes-lighthouse]

Echo and Toga: The Full Story

Okay, I did a poll for how I should share my selfship stories, and 'text post with illustrations' won the poll, so I'm doing a full four-section post for each of my f/os: Backstory, First Meeting, Getting Together, and Where We're At! They're written to be as understandable as possible for people unfamiliar with the source!

With that said, here's my selfship with Toga! Content warnings for backstory abuse, poly!League of Villains (which has some funky age gaps that aren't commented on here), and canon-typical blood drinking.

Chapter One: Backstories 

Toga and Echo both grew up in a world defined by Quirks: powers that manifest at the age of five or six, when children are usually in Kindergarten. 

Toga’s Quirk was Transform: by drinking someone’s blood, she could transform into them. This Quirk began as a fascination with blood, which disturbed her parents, and they instructed her to stop the behavior. She was obedient and played the dutiful daughter until the age of 15, at which point a classmate was injured around her, and she attacked him to drink his blood. Her parents were horrified and rejected her, at which point Toga left home and became a murderer. 

About a year later, she was recruited to the League of Villains, a group looking for more freedom for villains, and she quickly made personal connections within the team. She is obsessive about love, blood, and looking cute. 

Echo grew up in foster families, was adopted at 12, and their family moved to Japan when they were 14. They ran away the year afterwards, their home life intolerable for multiple reasons: mainly their adoptive father and brother, both of which used their fire quirks to punish Echo. They have a lasting distrust for fire quirk users. Echo’s Quirk is Cat’s Paw, which gives them the ability to transform into a small black and white cat, and also gives them better senses in their ‘human’ form. 

They’ve been on the streets for two years, bouncing in and out of different situations, but tend to spend most of their time as a street cat for the ease of hunting and passing unnoticed. 

Chapter Two: First Meeting 

Echo can’t keep their cat form while sleeping, so they’re always looking for new places to curl up. One day, they find a warehouse full of empty boxes and choose a spot to spend the night. They wake up to Himiko cooing over them, and try to run, but get caught by Dabi while in cat form. 

Turns out the warehouse was a League of Villains meeting location, and the League was a bit confused to find a naked girl sleeping on the floor. They take a few minutes to establish that Echo isn’t a hero agent, and then decide to bring them back to base: their Quirk could be useful, and they’re not keen to have a safehouse compromised. 

Echo ultimately agrees because the League promises them food. 

Once they’re in agreement, Himiko sweeps in and the two of them have an instant connection: a kindred spirit in form and temperament. Echo’s years of hunting have made them well-attuned to blood, and their matching yellow eyes make them look a bit like siblings, whereas they set them both apart from their original families. They’re already bonding on the trip back to base, and they’re besties by the time they get home. 

Chapter Three: Getting Together 

Himiko and Echo share an immediate obsession with each other. After years of unreciprocated affection, having someone who actually liked them back was addictive. While Echo is quite nervous about the other members of the League, that only makes them stick closer to Himiko. The two of them reluctantly split up for the first night, but by the next week, the two of them are sharing a bedroom, unwilling to part ways even for sleeping. 

Echo also gets along quickly with Mr. Compress and Magne. Twice, Spinner, Shigaraki, and Dabi take longer for them to warm up to. They’re nervous around Shigaraki for a long time, aware of his status as the leader and the decision-maker, and they’re very on-edge around Dabi, who is a fire quirk user.

Getting used to Shigaraki is just a matter of time, and eventually Echo and Dabi sit down and have a proper discussion about everything and they end up friends at the end of it, although Dabi will take a little longer to admit it. 

Himiko and Echo getting together basically slams the overall sexual tension in the League through the roof, and eventually everyone figures out their dynamics, with Dabi and Echo forming two different centers of the sexy side of the polycule.

Chapter Four: Where We’re At 

I don’t tend to move this selfship through the BNHA canon, but this selfship starts in the lull between the Forest Training Camp Arc and the Shie Haissaikai arc. I suppose my s/i would probably take part in the Shie Haissaikai part, and saves Magne somehow, but I don’t like doing Big Plots in this selfship, so I don’t want to take it any further than that. 

Anyways, we all live in an apartment together: Twice and Mr. Compress have their own places but spend most of their time with us. Having two people with a civilian persona is useful! The rest of us are kind of recognizable. 

I mostly stay home while the others do villainy stuff: Kurogiri and I work together a lot, but he’s more useful in the field than I am, so I take over a lot of the housework. I’m useful for reconnaissance but not really for fighting. 

When the others are home, we play video games and tease each other and do puzzles and watch TV, all the normal stuff. We do movie marathons and argue about dishes and send Twice out to get ice cream from the corner store at 2am. Me and Himiko are always touching, but the others can come join the cuddle pile. We spend the night in our own room, most times, unless I’m with someone else for the night and then I have to make it up to Toga with a fun date the next day!!! 

Me and Himiko go out clubbing and pick up creepy guys and stab them in alleyways. We order way too many clothes online and have dress up parties and then return them all. We have pillow fights and snowball fights and tickle fights. We joke about running an OnlyFans account for the League. We generally have a lot of fun together!!!!! Every day!! 

[olgimslaya]

I feel bad continuing this discussion in the replies of someone else's poll SO. here I am. For me Termite Daniil/Utopian Artemy was also kind of reflected in my gameplay experience-- Daniil spends all day doing sidequests to (ostensibly) help people in the Town, even though a lot of the time he fails, and his main quests usually involve the people of the Town in some way. Artemy rarely talks to the adults in the Town, and on at least my Haruspex run I spent most of my time on the outskirts of town or in the Steppe...or killing people for organs at night. Felt like out of the two of them I actually had more of a reason to act to save the town as Daniil, even if he had to sacrifice his aspirations and some of his ideals for it.

yeah i agree with that, artemy's connection to the town in classic hd is pretty minor, especially if you consider how close he is with daniil in the haruspex route and how easier it is for him to be influenced by his ideas. i mean if you bring daniil to the cathedral there is some pretty unambiguous dialogue about how theyre going to keep the polyhedron and 'destroy' aglaya together? i think its the only time a character can outright say 'im gonna choose your ending' to the other, usually your two dialogue ending options on your last chat in the cathedral boil down to 'maybe, probably not, but i will think about it' and 'fucking kys you are so stupid'.

as for daniil, i also did play him as learning to care about the town and choosing to keep it as well, but i chose the humble ending in my first playthrough, unaware of what that really entailed. i do think he cares about the town and its people but at the same time im not sure if he cares about them as much as he does for the polyhedron and, most importantly, the idea of progress

[historical-fashion-polls]

Hi I just wanted to say how much I love this blog! The polls are fun and I like to learn more about historical fashion but my favourite part is seeing the poll results. I wonder how modern ideas of what’s fashionable influence which outfit people choose. Personally it usually comes down to silhouette and symmetry when I’m choosing an answer but I wonder how people from the 90’s or 2040’s or another time period would decide which outfit to pick! Thanks for running such a great blog ☺️

hi my dear! 💖

thank you so much for your sweet words about the blog – I'm so glad you're having a great time!! 🥰🥰

I also love seeing what people choose, and it's great when folks leave notes in the tags/reblogs about why they chose what they did, because it is so interesting to see the reasons people vote the way they do! 💕💕

it's so fascinating to think about what people from different periods would have picked! one of my favorite things is when I can feature a historical plate that intentionally references another historical period to see how they interpreted that earlier period within the context of their contemporary fashion trends 💖💖

thank you so much again for sending in this lovely message! 🥰🥰

[dangermousie]

Pusher post for Ja Myung Go (2009) - best period kdrama you've never heard of

It got zero votes on my poll probably because nobody has watched it, and it must be remedied.

In 2009, during the ratings reign of legendary Queen Seon Deok, another woman-centric period drama made its debut - Ja Myung Go starring Jung Ryo Won, Jung Kyung Ho, and Park Min Young back before she was a leading lady. Unlike QSD which became a huge success and extended its run, JMG had abysmal ratings throughout and ended up being only 39 episodes (a large number in abstract but a cut from the originally planned 50). Ja Myung Go took a traditional narrative - the forbidden and doomed love of Prince Hodong and Princess La Hee, heirs to enemy kingdoms, and disassembled it supposing what the story would have been like if Hodong had been in love with La Hee's sister Ja Myung instead.

Even though JMG is one of my favorites, its single-digit ratings (back when single digit ratings were baaaaad!) were no surprise - it took most period drama conventions of the time and even now and upended them. Proper royalty-based sageuks at the time after all centered around the progress and triumph of its protagonist - he or she may pay a great personal price but will triumph over rival factions/own shortcomings/bad background and emerge politically victorious - a great ruler to be remembered by future generations. JMG's rival Queen Seon Deok expemplifies that kind of narrative - Deokman is an outcast who, at the end, has lost the man she loved, but is a great ruler to be remembered forever and full of achievements. Yi San, Kingdom of the Winds, Jumong, etc - all follow this formula more or less. This is still the case when they make them nowadays, sadly rarer than they used to - GK War comes to mind. (Fusion-style sageuks which usually deal with 'common' people sometimes choose hopelessness as a theme - see Damo - but they have a different narrative thrust and vibe and we are not even getting into fluffiness of youth sageuks. People of JMG are miles away from that.)

But this is not the story of JMG. From the first episode it is clear that there will be no triumphant narrative. This is a story of the defeated - defeated Kingdom of Nakrang, defeated people. And, except for Ja Myung herself (cast in a traditionally heroic mold even if with enough flaws to make her interesting), her mother (a very minor character) and a few other other characters, most of the characters are not heroic either. They are either fascinating monsters (Muhyul, Wang Jashi (Ja Myung's stepmother), Muhyul's Queen) or people damaged beyond repair by their surroundings (Hodong, La Hee).

(Man is known as God of Battles, and not for no reason)

And even though I like Ja Myung, I confess that for me the drama is made by the clever, fascinating, monstrous Wang Jashi and Muhyul. Wang Jashi is a Korean Lady Macbeth - she is someone who is capable of poisoning her brother in order to protect her husband and her own power, but she is also someone who genuinely grieves over him. She is a wicked woman, but she is strong and irresistable. Muhyul (or King Daemushin, if we go by his throne name) is a counterpart for her (he rules a different kingdom, but I confess throughout the drama, I kept wondering what it would be like if they were married - they would rule the world). He is a capable, fierce ruler who has traded his humanity for success and rule - you see any remaining feelings leach out of him slowly during the course of the drama.

And so much of the drama is shaped by those two irresistible monsters - all the younger characters except Ja Myung are trapped and shaped and deformed by them. Princess La Hee, Wang Jashi's daughter, is not capable of truly functionally expressing her feelings - even though she likes Hodong, throughout their early meetings, she lashes at him over and over because brought up the way she was, she has no idea how express herself. And Hodong, Muhyul's son, is even worse off - at least La Hee had her saintly stepmother to love her growing up. Hodong has had his poisonous stepmother who desires his death (yet another amazing character - she is a horrible person but you understand and even sympathize with her) and Muhyul as a father (there is a scene later on where Muhyul gives an order that if Nakrang does not fall, Hodong is to be executed. Father of the year he is not).

In a way, that is why if it wasn't for his seduction-to-victory plan, Hodong would have never gotten together with La Hee even if Ja Myung did not exist - they are both emotional cripples and Hodong, at least, is smart enough to recognize that. I think that is a huge part of his attraction to Ja Myung - she is a breath of sane air (significantly she has been brought up outside palace environment). When I think of Hodong, it's the same emotion I get when I think of Jang Jae Min from Bali - he is twisted and deeply flawed but the wonder and the tragedy of it is that for his family he is not flawed and twisted enough. One of the last things Ja Myung tells him is that in their next life she wishes she would be his mother. I remember people thinking WTF but it made perfect sense to me - the thing Hodong lacked most and needed most was a loving parent - it is something he never got. (And of course it's also a show of love towards her sister - this way La Hee can have Hodong as a lover).

And this brings me to gender dynamics. Except for Muhyul, all the true movers and shakers in the story, every catalyst is a woman. Nowhere it is as evident as with Ja Myung and Hodong. I remember reading that Jung Kyung Ho was cast as Hodong and being genuinely puzzled. He has since gone on to be one of my favorite leading men and certainly terrifying and violent and feral enough in Cruel City to play the scariest warlord of them all if necessary but that wasn't the case at the time. I thought of him as the spoiled little brother to the angsty vengeance seeker of Sorry I Love You, or as a smart little brother to the amnesiac mob assassin in Time Between Dog and Wolf. Or, more likely, in his big break-out role as the male lead of Smile You. The thing is, in all of these, even Smile You, he is the quintessential nice guy (or as the term is in certain circles, "beta male.") He was about the last person I'd normally envision as a male lead in a period drama about war. But once I saw the drama, it all made sense and not because he was bringing his later Cruel City persona.

Because despite his undoubted ability to fight in battle, Ja Myung and Hodong are all about gender reversal - at one point she even becomes his bodyguard! If you think about it, they take gender roles usually reserved for the opposite gender - she is the proactive one, who sets the story in motion, the rebel leader. He is the one who conquered Nakrang through seduction of La Hee, something seen as a typically female method. His seducing La Hee into destroying the protective drum is a far cry from Jumong fighting through hordes single-handed or Dam Duk in The Legend taking on an army with a small unit armed with nothing but grit or even the Prince in Haechi or King in GK War outwitting his court enemies with balls and brains. And, as a typically female method, his way of victory gets him nothing but scorn - in the first episode, his stepmother calls him a whore to his face. It's the same with the relationship - Ja Myung can let go of him, but he cannot let go of her.

The women are uniformly fascinating and complex in this - even someone like La Hee does not just give in to Hodong's false sweet words - she genuinely believes surrender would save her country. The drama's respect for its female characters is summed up in a single scene - one of the characters is a widow of Wang Jashi's brother (the one she poisoned). Her 10-year-old brother-in-law marries her to save her from execution. 10 years later, they are still married and when she is doing the proper thing and helping him bathe, you see her experience and suppress her desire - because her husband is now a gorgeous gorgeous man. It could be a ludicrous situation - she changed the guy's diapers and she is not what you'd consider traditionally good-looking. But instead drama treats her feeling with respect and understanding. I loved it for that.

Oh, and I am just gonna leave this little father-son convo here:

Hodong: Your Majesty, what did you tell me before? You said if only you gain Nakrang without any blood being spilt, you would bestow leniency on them. Take pity on them. The other way there will be no end to rebellion and we will all die. Daemushin: Your own grandfather, King Yuri, killed his own two sons. I was young and I could not understand that. How could he? How can a father kill his own child. Unless he was crazy, how could he kill his sons? I finally understand him today. For a King, a son with other intentions is nothing but a political enemy. A political enemy that must be killed and gotten rid of. Hodong: Do you wish to kill me? Daemushin: [throws down a puppet of a woman] You must know who this wench is. Who is she? Hodong: It is Emperor Choi Ri's unknown daughter, Princess Ja Myung. Daemushin: Find her and kill her. Hodong: Father, I cannot do that! I...I...that woman... Daemushin: When you chop off the head of that woman Jae Myung, I will make you the Crown Prince. If your father is King Daemushin, who has expanded his kingdom, then you must survive and show all other nations how to rule that kingdom. Hodong: Your subject Hodong accepts Your Highness' command.

Parent of the Year indeed!

PS If you've watched enough sageuks, you will recognize that wily old monster Daemushin is actually the protag of The Kingdom of the Winds where he looked like this:

(I did a pusher post for TKotW before so won't repeat.) The funny thing is much as I adored the ML of TKotW, I can totally see him progress into that monster here. It would be logical.

Anyway, digression over, go watch JMG!

[tmntseparatedaucompetition]

I’m new to the tmnt online fandom, what exactly is this blog? Stupid question I know considering it says in your name 🙈

I don't think its a stupid question. You will get a needlessly detailed answer however.

Basically on tumblr, when they released polls, people were like "omg lets make our blorbos* fight." The blorbos then "fight" by being pitted against eachother in a poll and fans choose who moves on and who dies.

Blogs were created to be able to organize the blorbos fight and gained a lot of traction on tumblr in general. They go through brackets, kinda like March Madness. This is a blog that hosts such a competition.

So Pollmaster Coral (@rottmntpeepawpolls) created the Peepaw Polls to have the Rottmnt Peepaws duke it out for all glory and it made polls very popular, especially within the TMNT tumblr community**. @tmntaucompetition (Pollmaster Shadow) started around this time and

These competitions*** pit AUs against eachother and for propaganda people create VERY cool art. (I love seeing the art so much). I forgot what I was going to add to this paragraph.

Separated AUs are AUs popularized by ROTTMNT. They are AUs were at least one of the turtles is raised separately from the other turtles and end with them usually becoming a family at the end. Like a refound family type trope.

So in summary, this blog hosts a competition between tmnt separated aus.

Currently most of the poll blogs are on hiatus because most mods run blogs on their own and need a break. From what I can tell there's going to be a lot more activity in this coming spring (in the northern hemisphere).

Currently @last-ronin-tmnt-competition @tmnt-oc-comp are actively doing polls if you want to check them out!

*character you like

**I'm not really in other fandoms so polls could be popular in them but I wouldn't know

***I am aware theres comps that have like canon poll stuff (like character battles like Big Mama vs Sloppy Joeseph) but there's a lot of them that are similar (and confuse me) so I am unware of how many there are. So this mostly a discussion of polls that regard AUs

[acavatica]

Does voting make you anxious?

This isn't like me, but I'm going to give my fellow millennials (and younger) the benefit of the doubt: Are you not voting because you don't know how? Have you never done it on your own? Don't know where to start? Read on, I guess.

(This info only applies to the US, btw, I think the rest of y'all have it together better than us. I mean, maybe some of you don't, but I can't help you.)

Register to vote. Vote.gov walks you through the process. Note: There are primaries where each party chooses its finalists. Those happen before the main election in November. To vote in a primary, you have to be registered to one of the 2 real political parties. "Independent" doesn't mean you can vote for whichever one you like, it means you don't get to vote in the primary. I don't "identify" with the Democratic Party, either, but the fact is, any viable progressive candidate is going to be running as a Democrat and being a registered Democrat allows you to vote for people who represent you better. Do not register as an Independent. This doesn't matter for 2022, because primaries are over, but keep it in mind for the future.

Find your voting location. This time the tool is at vote.org. Right now, at least for me, my voting location hasn't been assigned. But when it is, you can put your address in here and find out where to go to vote in person. This page also has a list by state that takes you to your state's voting website. You can probably also do a mail-in or absentee ballot, but those rules vary state by state and I'm just some rando on tumblr. If you have going-outside-anxiety, google "absentee voting [the state you live in]." We are not allowed to vote online in the US.

Extra Credit for the Nerds: Look up who you'll be voting for. Put in your address, it shows you your ballot. Generally speaking, in a national (non-primary) election you can just vote down the party line of your preference, you'll usually only have two options, Democrat or Republican. It's really the primary where you can make the most difference, but we're here now, we vote for the lesser of two evils. But again, for the future, the less hype an election is, the more you can pick people you won't lose sleep over, we're talking local elections, midterm elections, primaries. When people only turn up to vote for the president, we get stuck with what we're stuck with. When people don't even show up for that, we end up where we are. I'm not blaming you. I have anxiety too. IMPORTANT: A lot of states have referendums for abortion rights this year. (California, Kansas, Kentucky, Michigan, Montana, and Vermont.) The questions can sometimes be worded really confusingly. The links above go to each state's individual referendum so you can read the question and make sure you understand before you get to the poll.

Make a plan. Find out if you need ID (bring it just in case). Arrange transportation. Get an accountability buddy. Put it in your calendar. My polling places are open 6AM to 6 PM and if you're in line at 6PM you're guaranteed to be able to vote. The list from Step 2 should get you to your state's voting FAQ. If you are scheduled to work on November 8, 2022 (or some voting day in the future), know that 30 states require employers to give their employees some amount of time off for voting. Many states offer paid leave for voting. My state offers 4 hours unpaid, but hey, that's half a day off work. 🤷‍♀️

Vote on November 8, 2022. Here's what to expect: you walk into a school or a church or a retirement home. There are signs pointing you to the right room, and there are tables where poll workers might do some of the following: find your name in a book, check your ID, make you sign next to your name. You will either be given a pen and paper ballot or you will be directed to a computer ballot station. The ballot will probably look much like we practiced in Step 3 (this is where you get your extra credit). If you're voting via computer you might get to time travel to ipod controls times. Either way, it only takes a few minutes, you submit your vote, get your sticker, and then you go home or maybe get yourself a little treat.

This feels pretty cheeseball, honestly. I'm as disillusioned as any other progressive, and I think politics are fake 80% of the time. But I do work in government (in a library), so I know how to do these things, and I know a lot of people don't or are stressed out or intimidated. You don't have to love who you're voting for. You don't have to be enthusiastic about it. You don't have to expect anything to change because of it. But if you're scared, you don't have to be.

My ask box is open and anon is on if you wanna ask specific questions. ✌

[chacusha]

Summer Quodo event poll

Because I have a "running events" problem (namely, that I like brainstorming events that would be neat, and then once I brainstorm an event, I get attached to it and want to run it), I am planning on running a Quodo event for the middle of the year.

So, please help me pick which event I should run this summer by telling me which one you'd be most interested in!

Explanations on each of these below the cut:

Option #1: Ship week

Here, the event would be a Quodo ship week most likely in early/mid August. Basically, the way a ship week works is that there is a designated week for posting fanworks for a ship, where each day in the week is associated with a prompt (or maybe two prompts, to give people choice). The last day in the week is usually a free choice day. Basically, it's a way to have a concentrated burst of fanworks for a pairing, and you can see the different ways people interpreted each prompt, and it's also kind of a team effort? Or you can treat it as a challenge to try to post one thing each day -- it's completely up to you how many days/prompts you fill.

The event will start by me collecting some prompt suggestions, holding a vote on them, and selecting a week's worth of prompts and publishing the list of prompts for each day. Then people make as many fanworks as they would like for the themes and post their work on the appropriate day.

Proposed timeline: April: Collect prompts May: Vote on prompts and release prompt list Jun-Aug: Creation period August: The ship week

Option #2: Collab event

For this event, basically, you would get paired with another Quodo fan and the goal would be to collaborate in order to produce a fanwork or a pair of fanworks. What a "fanwork collaboration" means can vary a lot and depends on what the members of the group are interested in (basically, when signing up, you would specify your preferences for the type of collab you would be interested in, and these preferences will be taken into account when I do the matching).

Here are some types of collaboration, roughly in order from least amount of coordination/cooperation to most amount of coordination:

1) Writing/creating to the same prompt/idea: Basically, the coordination happens at the beginning of the project with the two members agreeing on a general idea/prompt to work with, and then both members go off and create and share what they made at the end. This way you get two unique takes on the same idea. Very little coordination involved.

2) One person creates work inspired by/complementary to the other's: Here, the creators collaborate in order to produce a pair of related works -- first, one work is produced and then the second work is made in relation to that work. This could be the second creator's take on the same idea -- a remix/retelling/redraw of the original work, or an illustration for a fic or a fic inspired by art, etc. (It's also possible for both people to each create an original work and then swap, although this is more time-consuming and may not work with people's time.) This requires a bit more coordination, maybe sharing early drafts or handing work off by a deadline.

3) Collaborating on the same fanwork: This option involves two people working together to produce a single work. You can choose to do this however you like -- for example, with fic, maybe you swap the writer every few paragraphs, or do it roleplay style with each person writing one character. With art, maybe one artist does lineart and then hands it off to the other person to color (or both artists each do lineart and then send to the other to do the coloring). Hard mode!

You can treat this event like a bang or reverse bang if you like by using option (2). A bang is where someone writes a (long) fic (doesn't have to be long for this event) and they get an artist who illustrates it or provides some other kind of art or complementary fanwork (could be headers/graphics for the fic, podfic, etc.). A reverse bang is the opposite -- an artist comes up with a piece of art (maybe a sketch) and a fic writer crafts a fic around that piece of art.

There would be periodic check-ins just to see if there are any members/groups that have gone inactive and which might require reassignment to a new group.

The sign-up form would collect things like: - What fanwork medium you would prefer or are planning to work in. - What type of collabs you're open to. - What type of fanworker (fic writer, artist, etc.) you would prefer to work or not work with. - How often you would like to check in.

Proposed timeline: Apr/May: Sign-ups and matching Jun-Aug: Creation period August: Work reveals (in pairs)

Option #3: WIP-finishing/motivation event

The purpose of this event would be to provide motivation/company/social pressure to finish a longer/more ambitious sort of project. People can sign up with a new or existing project they would like to complete by the deadline, and then they would use the work period to see if they can finish the work, in the company of others doing the same. It's called a WIP-finishing event, but really, any project is allowed even if it's brand new. That said, this event might be useful for projects you've been meaning to get around to for a long time and haven't, or intimidating projects a bit beyond your skill level so far. Any media is allowed -- fic, art, comics, podfic, vids, meta, crafts, etc.

I am still figuring out the timeline and due dates -- below is what I have so far, but I would be happy to adjust the deadlines and format in order to accommodate what would work best and be the most motivating for the participants. So far, I am thinking that there is a date at which the project must be finished, and then there is a long posting period for people who would like to post their work in smaller increments. I would also pick 1-2 dates for each finished project to spotlight/advertise it -- one would be toward the beginning of the posting period for works that are fully finished and posted, or for works that have started posting (have posted the first installment); the second one would be shortly after the last installment of the work has been posted (if applicable).

The sign-up form would collect things like: - Your name and name/description of project - (Optional) Progress so far and projected length/time commitment of project. - (Optional) Goals you would like to have hit by certain check-ins.

It would be fine to drop projects at any time.

Proposed timeline: Apr/May: Sign-ups. May-Jul: Creation/posting period, most likely with optional check-ins at the beginning of Jun/Jul/Aug. Mid-August: Work completion deadline. Work posting and promos begin shortly afterward. November: Work posting deadline. Final wrap-up/celebration and masterlist.

Which one would you be most interested in? Let me know!