#I have a backlog of a week and some change of course I have a ton of stuff to post

[alllgator-blood]

DUDE HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU DRAWING THESE COMICS SO FAST???? I'm not sure whether to be impressed or intimidated goddamn (JK of course it's impressive, but also, don't work yourself too hard!)

TO BE FAIR some of these are from a couple months ago like the kallamar + heket comic. I pretty much always have a big comic in progress no matter what, but after my hiatus I've got a backlog to post while I finish up new projects. ALSO I have the font of autism that makes me want to just do the same thing like all day every day so that definitely speeds up the process.....comics take fucking forever but it's the thing I like doing the most rn so I'm having a good time! Sometimes my focus changes from comics to a different activity, and we get periods like the time I made around a dozen COTL plushies because I physically could not do anything else. I should post them sometime because my entire bed is just covered in kallamars at this point.

I actually just finished up work on the leshy comic I posted about a while ago, I'm torn between "I want to wait til next week to post it so I don't blow through my entire comic backlog within a month" and "THIS TOOK FOREVER I WANT TO JUST POST IT NOW" so it might be up soon, might not be, idk! If it's not up today it'll be up next friday-sunday for sure

here he is strollin around in the meantime

and also running into a tree

[knavesflames]

I come bearing an ask

Here me out: Arlecchino x pregnant!reader (who was already unsure if she wanted to go thru w the pregnancy + was scared of her body changing) where

Reader is in early pregnancy and she's starting to show a bit of a bump, BUT her and Arle haven't told anyone. So, one day while they're out, they encounter either 1 of Reader's family members or just someone she knows and they make a comment about her weight gain unknowingly which leads to reader uncontrollably crying

What does Arle do in that situation? Beat em up? Tend to her wife? A bit of both? Maybe threaten them?

Thank you for taking the time to read this!!! And thank you again if you consider write it!!

Hi! Sorry this has taken so long to get to, I have a major backlog of requests and I like to go in chronological order if I can. Anyway, here it is. I’ve never been pregnant or really around anyone who has been so I have NO idea how this works sorry 😭

Word count: 733

Contents: fluff, pregnant reader

UTC!

The day you realised your period was late was a day you’re sure you’ll remember forever. The dread you felt as you drove to the store as quickly as possible, practically slamming the box onto the counter as you paid. Then, of course, the wait. How stupid, you think. To have pissed on a stick and wait anxiously for some lines. Lines that could possibly change your life. You didn’t really want that. You’ve not wanted that, not since you were a teen, when you became conscious of your body. You swore you’d never get pregnant, you couldn’t deal with your body changing. You know you couldn’t.

Then, the wait was over, and the result was not what you wanted. You remember how your hands trembled as thousands of different thoughts ran through your head. You remember sitting on the toilet lid with your head in your hands for hours until you heard the soft click of the front door. The way you told her, your voice weak, your eyes filled with uncertainty, is something Arlecchino won’t forget.

She reassured you that whatever you chose was okay, that if you didn’t want to go through with it then she’d support you, and the same if you decided you wanted to go through with it. You spent a week deciding, but when you were in the city, your eyes caught a glimpse of the smallest little baby socks and your already growing maternal instincts kicked in instantly. The second you came home, you announced you wanted to keep it, though after conversation, you admitted you were scared. She promised that even when your body changed, she’d love you regardless. That anyone who commented would face her wrath. You knew she was serious, too.

So, of course, that brings you to the day when your bump starts showing. Arlecchino is in love with it, her hand resting on it whenever you’re sat together, her arm shielding you whenever you go outside if she senses danger. And she’s snapped at a person or two when they’ve bumped into you. Her sense of danger has been warped into whatever could possibly harm you and the child, though neither of you have told anyone yet. Your request, she’d tell the world if she could. She relaxes a bit when you meet an old friend, someone you haven’t met in years. You were quite close, she recalls. Even so, she stays by your side, listening to your conversation with a polite hum in response when she’s asked a question. Her ears perk up though, when the conversation takes a turn.

“Mm, you’ve gotten a little pudgy, haven’t you? Swollen in the face a bit, too. Cute.” A harmless comment usually, but for you, it’s a blow, and she knows it. She knows it the second the words are spoken, the way your face falls and your hands cover yourself. The way your eyes fall to the floor and your attempt at laughing. Your laugh is strained, though, your voice thick. Another ten seconds, and cue an outburst of tears. This is exactly what you didn’t want, for people to comment on your weight gain. For you, it’s been the worst symptom of them all. Arlecchino’s arm immediately wraps around you, her voice cold.

“Do not talk about someone’s body in such a manner. You should not be commenting on anyone’s body anyway, let alone her’s. You’ve known her for years, haven’t you? You should know how sensitive she is to comments like that,” between your tears, you can hear her speaking, almost snarling. She’s always been protective, but perhaps she’s gotten even more so since the news. “If I ever hear you speak about her in such a way again, if you ever make her shed another tear, I will break you. Understand?”

The old friend is quick to apologise and scurry off, leaving you, a tearful mess, and a sighing Arlecchino. Placing soft kisses into your hair, she strokes your arm, thinking of a way she can make you feel better. She opts to whisper all the good things about gaining weight while pregnant until she sees your tears stop.

“Now, do you want that craving we originally came out here for?” She asks, a smile tugging at her lips when you immediately nod and start complaining about how you really can’t live without peanut butter and pickles.

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 1

Surprise!!! I have six chapters of this and really need to start getting it out, so I figured with Act 1 ending last week and my backlog on this and Of Butterflies and Backstrokes (Olympic Swimmer) being so low thanks to me trying to the Halloween themed sequel to Icarus (Metal Band) that I would put this out until I build that back up and lower the amount of backlog this one has.

Summary: Eddie Munson is a in bind, set to go on a three month reunion tour, he is in need of nanny for his twin girls Janice and Joan since his partner, Ethan blew up their lives a year ago. Enter nanny extraordinaire, Steve Harrington. Both men struggle with treading the line between boss/nanny and their strong attraction to each other. Will Eddie learn to trust again? Will Steve realize that he was always meant to be right there by Eddie's side?

~

Eddie hung up the phone with a sigh. He wanted to do the tour, because of course he did. But he also had two very rambunctious little girls now. Eddie was a good dad, but he wasn’t the nurturing kind the way Ethan was. But sometime in the last year, Ethan had changed.

He had grown distant and cold, going as far as yelling at the girls which he never used to do. So Eddie quit producing music to give Ethan some much needed time for himself. Fat lot of good that did.

Because apparently Ethan was banging...well, just about everyone but Eddie’s friends. The pool boy, the guy who delivered their food, the cleaning lady, their personal trainer, hell even the barely legal dog walker got more of his husband’s dick than Eddie did.

Which he didn’t find out, by the way. Ethan had told him after handing him divorce papers and legally renouncing parental rights to Joan and Janice. He threw it in Eddie’s face the numerous affairs he had. The one thing he wouldn’t tell him was why.

Why was Ethan so unhappy when Eddie had done everything right?

He buried his head in hands. Janice and Joan were only four and they had been adopted at birth. They never met the mother and were only told that she didn’t want them and never wanted to see them ever again.

So how could Ethan look at those two little angels and decide the same?

Eddie was heartbroken and not ready to move on. So he had agreed to the tour as a way to cope with the sudden explosion of his life. His friends knew Ethan had left, but they didn’t know the extent of his ex’s destruction.

He thought about taking the girls with him, but they were too little. They wouldn’t have fun and would be more terrified then thrilled. So live-in nanny it was.

Thankfully he had a month to find someone who would cook and clean and watch the girls. Especially after having to fire all of his help in the wake of Ethan’s destruction.

He had this.

~

Eddie did not in fact have this. He only had three more days until he left and he was at his wit’s end. He had rejected candidate after candidate for a myriad of reasons. One only wanted part-time despite the ad before a live in nanny. Another said she was strict disciplinarian and thought spanking was the only way to teach a child. And even another just gave off weird vibes.

So he called the agency one more time.

“You’ve gone through all of our female nannies,” the woman huffed on the other end of the line. “We only have male nannies left, surly you don’t–”

“Just send the best male nanny you’ve got!” Eddie barked. “I don’t care about gender for fuck’s sake.”

“I’m not sure–” the woman protested but Eddie hung up on her.

He didn’t have time to listen to whatever excuse she was going to come up with. He was running out of time before the tour and needed someone. Anyone.

He got a call back five minutes later from another woman telling him that they would be sending over their best male nanny at 2pm if that was acceptable.

He sighed with relief. “Yes, that will be perfect. The girls will be down for their nap then.”

“That’s wonderful, Mr. Munson,” she said cheerfully. “The gentleman we are sending over, his name is Steve Harrington, and I sincerely hope he will be a good fit for you.”

“You and me both,” Eddie sighed again. “You and me both.”

~

When Steve got to the house, he would have liked to have said that he wasn’t impressed because he had seen dozens of large houses and even larger sprawling mansions in his time as a full time nanny, but he was. Very much so.

It wasn’t a gaudy modern monstrosity for starters. It liked a Victorian era manor that had been modernized for living in today. It gave off a spooky vibe, but in a fun way and not a horror movie way. Like the Addams family or the Munsters kind of vibe.

He really dug it.

He went up and knocked on the door. It swung open almost immediately to reveal a pretty, petite woman with sparkling green eyes and strawberry blonde hair. She had a sweet smile.

He knew this wasn’t the mother, the file said that it was a single father of twin girls. A rockstar of some sort, though Steve didn’t recognize the name. This must be some kind of servant or PA or something.

“Hi, I’m Steven Harrington,” he greeted putting out his hand for her to shake. “I have a two o’clock appointment with Eddie Munson about the nanny position.”

Her smile widened, dimpling her cheeks. “Hi, I’m Chrissy Cunningham, I’m Corroded Coffin’s manager. Come on in, he’s waiting for you.”

Steve followed her through the house. It was just as impressive as the outside. It was beautifully decorated in dark browns, reds, and black. God, he hoped he got the job. He could really see himself living here.

She opened the door to the office allowed him to walk through, closing it behind him. Which normally wouldn’t have been a problem for Steve but now he was in a room with the hottest guy he had ever seen in his life and he really didn’t need an erection at a job interview.

Eddie looked up, and yup. Steve was done for. He had the biggest brown eyes he had ever seen outside of a Disney cartoon.

“Mr. Munson?” he said, reaching out for a handshake, mustering up every ounce of professionalism he had. “Steven Harrington, how do you do? You can call me Steve.”

Eddie grinned back. “Hey, Steve. Thanks for coming at such a short notice. I understand you’ve been brought up to speed on everything I’ll be needed you to do?”

Steve crossed his legs and put his hands on his lap. Shit, even his voice was sexy as fuck.

“Yes, I’ll be watching the children twenty-four/seven,” Steve recited dutifully, “with doing all of the cooking and some of the cleaning.”

“That’s right,” Eddie said. “That normally wouldn’t be the case, but I’ve had to recently fire all of my staff. In fact, if you are hired on, you’ll be working with Chrissy over the next couple of months to help bring staff back on. I would be putting a lot of trust in you not to fuck me over.”

Steve nodded. It was a bit like Robin’s period dramas. He would be running the household while Eddie was away.

“Wouldn’t Chrissy be needed on tour with you?” he asked, not sure what her role actually was.

Eddie shook his head. “She usually does, but I need her here to help to get this house running again. It was hard enough trying to explain to the girls why everyone had to leave. Especially their other dad. She just has her own place and a very demanding job. And the other people I trust with my kids are going on tour with me, so...”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Steve said huffing out a chuckle. “I’m willing and able to take the job. There is just one more thing we have to do first.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “I don’t think I offered you the job yet.”

Steve burst out laughing. “No, I don’t suppose you did. But you really should. I’m really good with kids, I’m great cook, my references are impeccable, I have a degree in early child development, and you’re desperately out of time.”

“I noticed that all your previous families had older kids,” Eddie said picking up Steve’s resume. “Can you explain that?”

“Yes,” Steve said with a sigh. “Unfortunately, despite being practically perfect in every way,” Eddie huffed out a small laugh, “if I was a woman I would be the most sought after nanny in the whole god damned state. Even more so if I was older fifty. But because I’m a young man not even thirty yet and all they see is a predator.”

Eddie winced. He held up a finger. He picked up his phone and called the agency. “Hello? Hi Nancy, this is Eddie Munson. Yes, I will be taking Steve Harrington on as my nanny. Thank you so much for sending him over. Can you tell me who it was the first person I spoke to this morning? Yes, yes that’s the one. Kindly inform her that pushing harmful stereotypes only makes you look stupid. Mhmm. Yes. Yes. I want her fired. Thank you. Goodbye.”

Steve looked at him in awe. “Oh wow.”

Eddie grinned at him but before he could open his mouth to say something more, Chrissy poked her head in. “Sorry to disturb you but guess who woke up?”

“Janice?” Eddie replied with a fond smile.

“And guess who woke up her sister because she wanted someone to play with?” Chrissy said.

“Also Janice.” He sighed and turned to Steve. “You want to meet my little monsters?”

Steve smiled and stood up. “That was the one thing I was going to suggest we do before you hire me, is meet the girls. But having met their dad, I can already tell they’re going to be a handful.”

“Hey!” Eddie protested. But Chrissy laughed.

“Come on,” he said grumpily, “let’s go see the munchkins.”

Chrissy opened the door all of the way and Eddie and Steve followed her out. They reached the kitchen and there seating at a table were two of the cutest kids Steve had ever worked for. They both had light, curly brown hair and deep brown eyes, but that was where their similarities ended.

The one of the right had her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail with a denim overalls over a pink shirt. The overalls had a cute pink kangaroo on the pocket on the front. The girl on the left had her hair carefully braided and wore light blue shirt and a black pleated skirt. They were both munching on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

“Meet Janice and Joan,” Eddie said brightly. “Janice is the one on the right and the other is Joan. Janice is the oldest by seven minutes and she never lets Joan forget it.”

Joan stuck her tongue out at her dad around her sandwich and then went back to munching on it. Janice looked over at Steve and cocked her head to the side.

“Who’s that, Daddy?” she asked. And suddenly Steve was struck by how much the little girl acted like her dad.

“Girls,” Eddie said sternly, “do you remember when I said that Daddy was going to be gone for three months and you were going to be looked after by a new friend?”

Joan scrunched her nose and Steve was endeared. “Is he like one of those nannies that were so mean to us?”

“No, of course not, Joanie,” Eddie said, “not a nanny...” He looked to Steve for help.

“I’m what’s called an au pair,” he said brightly. “I’m here to watch over you and do a little of the cooking and cleaning, too. A nanny wouldn’t do that right?”

Joan and Janice shared a glance. And Steve was struck for the first time that they were really were twins. They acted so differently that he had already put them in separate boxes. But they moved in unison as they both shrugged.

“I guess not,” Janice huffed. “Are you going to be fun like Chrissy or strict like Daddy?”

The adults laughed as Steve walked over to the table. “My hope is to be somewhere in the middle. But I guess we’ll just have to see.”

He turned to Eddie and Chrissy. “If it’s all right, I’d like to get started now, give the girls time to get use to my presence while you’re still here, Eddie. That way we can smooth out any real problems before you go.”

Chrissy and Eddie shared a glance.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, “that’ll be fine. Great even. I’ll give you a couple of hours to get your things and come back here. Would you be okay making us dinner?”

Steve beamed at him. “Sure, give me an idea of what you guys like and I’ll find something to make you. Let’s consider it part of the interview.”

Eddie smiled back. “Well I think you have yourself a deal.”

Steve and Eddie shook hands.

This was either going to the best decision of Eddie’s life or his worst. Currently the jury and his brain were still out on that one.

~

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[murphy-kitt]

Ectoberhaunt Day 1 - Past

Word Count: 1822

AO3

When Jack and Maddie unexpectedly request Alicia take in Danny, she can’t help but worry that there are deeper problems at hand.

Tags: Angst, Slight Injury

—

It was an intervention, they had said. Some time away for him to deal with what had happened. The quiet din of the farm would be better for Danny than the constant clamour of Amity Park.

What has happened, Alicia still doesn’t know.

She sits at the kitchen table, the dogs circling around her feet. It’s only ever been her, Jip and Alec for a while now, at least since her last divorce.

And now Danny should be arriving soon. Of course, she loves her niece and nephew, even if it has been sometime since she’s seen them. The boy, she thinks, was obsessed with space. The girl, intuitive and a bit too in tune with the human psyche.

Alicia sips her coffee, pondering over what could be so bad it forced Maddie to take such a drastic decision. Amity Park and Spittoon aren’t exactly a stones throw away from one another.

There had been an accident of sorts, she remembers. Something to do with that ridiculous laboratory. An electric shock, was it?

But that was nearly a year ago. And Maddie hadn’t sounded half as concerned on the phone about that incident than the current predicament.

Then, she’s taken out of her thoughts by Jip whining, a high pitch that makes her ears ring.

‘Shush, you.’ Alicia scolds, chair scraping the tiled floor as she gets up. The collie dog paces to the door, the sputtering of an engine dying outside.

They’re here. Alicia’s not sure what to expect as she grabs the door handle, yanking it down with extra strength. She’s been too busy to fix that—but now it’ll be backlogged even more with Danny’s arrival.

It’s hard to miss the large tank currently imposing over her tiny house, gadgets arraying green and silver on the roof that she has no clue of.

“Alicia!” That’s the sound of one Jack Fenton leaping out the side of the..thing. Alicia doesn’t miss the clear bags under his eyes, the strain to his voice.

“Do I have to be here?” A sarcastic tone.

Danny is tiny. Alicia nearly topples over in shock, her hand finding the doorframe and feet cementing to the porch stairs. Jip whines, perceptive to the change.

Last time she saw him, a good few years, her nephew had been chatty and incessant about space. He’d always been small, a given since he was born six weeks premature. But this..it’s different.

He’s sickly. Frail. There’s a gauntness to his cheeks, a sharp edge where he was once rounded out with baby fat. His limbs are toothpicks, white needles marred with blemishes and blotches. A bandage twines around Danny’s left arm, clinging on as if it’s holding him together.

His clothes are filthy, torn and stained with green. She remembers Maddie mentioning...ectoplasm, perhaps? But after the accident, she thought Danny would have avoided the lab. At least that’s where she assumes it came from.

“Come in.” Alicia barely stutters through, shoving the door open. “Maddie not with you?”

“No.” Jack's demeanour instantly darkens. He turns to Danny, “I’ll get your things out the car, son. You go in.”

“Fine.” Danny folds his arms, scowling.

Great. Seemingly Danny’s sarcastic phase has set in, just another thing to deal with during this enigmatic stay. How long he’s staying for, Alicia doesn’t actually know. The weekend? Weeks? The whole summer?

They both enter the house, Danny begrudgingly following behind her like a lost puppy. As does Jack, two small duffel bags in his hands.

“Right son, I’ll leave you to it then?” Jack says, moving forward towards Danny, arms outstretched.

“Yeah, dad.” Danny takes a step back, hands in his pockets. Jack falters, the smile disappearing from his face.

“Oh—sorry, Danny. Your arm. I’ll—“

And with that, Jack vacates her small cabin, leaving only her and Danny standing around the table. He’s hunched over, like he’s being scrutinised. Or would rather be anywhere else.

What the hell happened?

—

“You’re in on it, aren’t you?” Is the first thing Danny says to her the next morning.

“What?” Is the only way she can respond as she pours milk into her cereal. Danny regards her, his glare icy.

She’d barely slept last night, ruminating over what could’ve happened. A fall out between Danny and his parents? Had he broken something in the lab, gotten injured?

“Why else would Mom and Dad send me here?” Danny folds his arms, looking down into his bowl of uneaten cereal.

“I don’t know. They thought you needed a break? They’re concerned about you.” An honest answer.

“They haven’t been concerned about me. Care more about the ghosts.” He shoves his chin into his hands, voice muffled so Alicia can barely hear.

She won’t deny Jack and Maddie are…absent as best. But she knows they do care deeply about Danny.

“Is this what it’s about? They’re focused more on their work than caring for you and Jazz?” Alicia asks, feeling the dread pool in her stomach. “Something happened to you and you wished they’d notice?”

Suddenly, the kitchen drops a few degrees.

Although the fire is blasting in the next room over, Jip curled beside, the hairs prick on Alicia’s neck. Tension curdles in her stomach as she watches Danny tense his fists into his hair. Toothpick arms, trembling.

He’s not the same as he was a few years ago. Sure, teenagers are meant to grow, become snappy, but this isn’t sarcasm or wit.

It’s fear.

“Danny,” she reaches forward, despite the trembling in her hands.

His eyes snap up. Icy. Once kind, sweet. Now filled with terror.

“Nothing—nothing happened to me!” He stammers out.

Which means something did.

“I don’t. It wasn’t meant to come out like this. Mom and Dad, they saw me, and I didn’t think. Not all of it, but they saw something. And now Mom won’t talk to me, and now they’re suspicious.”

“Suspicious?” Alicia hesitates. Danny has a secret of sorts? That he’s scared of Jack and Maddie knowing. That Maddie refuses to talk to him.

“It was this.” Danny gives her a fleeting look before gesturing to his shoulder, where the bloody bandage is still wrapped. On closer inspection she sees that there’s flecks of green in the bandage. Ectoplasm?

“You got into the lab? That ectoplasm stuff?”

“No, Aunt Alicia.I—I bleed it.”

What. Alicia’s ears ring as she shoves her chair back, the shrill noise echoing throughout the room. Rounding the table, she goes to Danny’s left.

“Can I?” She asks cautiously, gesturing to his arm.

The hesitance is clear in his posture, shoulders hunched by his ears, eyes wide, unblinking (were they always that blue?).

“You really don’t know, do you?” Danny mumbles, realisation seeping into his gaze. “They didn’t bring me here because they wanted you to get info.”

“You think they’d do that?” Alicia responds, trying to repress how appalled she is, both at his parents and his arm. The injury is far unlike anything she’s even seen, and living on a farm brings a range of afflictions.

Green bruises mottle most of the skin, from dark to lighter patches. It’s a burn of sorts, a mixture of green and red like a dated Christmas store.

“How’d you get this?” Alicia asks, as Danny tenses uncomfortably.

“Does it matter?” he deflects. “I’ve been like this for ages now.”

Ah. The green blood. Bleeding ectoplasm. What was a while back?

“Was it..was it your lab accident?” Alicia tenses. Now that she thinks, she can remember the phone call from Maddie, excitedly telling her about their ‘portal’, their life’s work. And then an extra tidbit about Danny having an electric shock, but that he was okay and seemed fine.

What if it had been worse, and Danny hadn’t told his parents?

“What if it was? What if it..changed me?”

”Look, kid. Trauma from that accident doesn’t mean you’ve changed, you’re still the sa—“

”It’s not like that, okay?! Sure, with the amount of psychoanalysis Jazz does on me, we know the accident traumatised me. But it’s not that.” Danny interrupts, twisting on his chair to face her.

Alicia pauses. Lets herself take a step back from Danny and sit back down, breakfast forgotten.

It’s clear this is serious. Alicia hates to think of the implications. Danny was in an accident much more serious than first thought. And not only he his hid it from his parents in fear of them finding out whatever it’s done, but they’ve never noticed.

How long ago was that accident? A year? And her sister and Jack had never noticed anything wrong until whatever had injured Danny had come to their attention?

”Okay, kid. I get it.” She puts her hands up in a placating gesture. If the accident was seriously altering, then it’s not something she wants to go interrogating him about. “How’d you get your wound?”

“What?!” The switch of topic has Danny sputtering, looking down at his arm. He regards her with narrowed eyes. “Why’d you want to know?”

”So I can re-bandage it. Is it a burn?” She gets up from the chair, opening the drawer besides the sink. Suddenly, Jip and Alec burst through the kitchen door, tails wagging.

”It’s not treats, you silly pair!” The dogs curiously nudge at Alicia’s legs as she approaches back to Danny, bandages and burn cream at hand.

”Yeah, a burn. Ectogun.”

”An ectogun. Isn’t that your pa—?”

”Yup.” Danny licks his lips, looking away, as if he’s considering something. “They didn’t know it was me.”

What?

”They shot you?!” This time, there’s no hiding the horror in her voice. This has to be a mistake. An awful, horrible accident. Maddie and Jack wouldn’t shoot Danny deliberately, they couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

Maybe they hadn’t seen him? Out ghost hunting and he’d got caught in the fray?

”Yeah…” Danny replies. “The accident, when I say it changed me..I look different?”

”What, you’re a ghost?” Alicia scoffs. Maybe it’s her mind trying to find reprieve in the absolute bombshell, to try and find humour.

Then she sees the trembling hands, the frozen posture. Temperature of the room dropped. Jip and Alec pacing, ears pinned back, needle-focused on Danny.

”You—y’know that one Mom goes on about?” Danny’s breath hitches, his eyes bleary, “The one she’s got a real hatred for, the one she wants to dissect?”

She can’t forget. Phantom. News channels have never reached Spittoon with ghost news, but there’s no need, since Maddie likes to update her.

How Phantom is evil, the terror of Amity Park. Yet how he’s different, somehow more complex and never sticks to a routine like the others—how she’d love to capture him.

’That ghost terrorises us, Lise. The day me and Jack capture it, imagine the breakthroughs we’d have. The research potential!”

Phantom, the ghost Maddie wants to experiment on.

Phantom, the ghost that is Danny.

Alicia feels sick.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 19

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words: 5k

Masterlist

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Monday, November 23; 9:40 AM - Class.

It's been a week since I returned to camp. Bronze managed to get my leave denied even though I had gone a week without any infractions. The worst part is, I hardly saw her during the week and weekend, even though she stayed too. The only time I'm sure to see her is in the morning during checks and in the evening to catch up on my classes. I could have finished long ago, but the teachers overwhelm us with too much work. It's annoying because I can no longer stand Bronze's silence. Not only is she still mad at me, but she makes it clear. If she wanted to punish me in her way to make me remorseful, she succeeded! I can't even blame her because I'm in the wrong.

Now, with a new week just starting, I content myself with scribbling on my paper at the beginning of class. I don't plan to make as much effort as last week if it means I won't get a pass in the end. I occupy myself as best as I can since the classes don't interest me at all. I'm lost in half the classes because of my backlog and have no desire to catch up. Unlike me, Alexia is very attentive for once. I try to entertain myself without her. I almost regret not deliberately arriving late this morning. I refrained, remembering Bronze's behavior. She would have certainly taken the opportunity to get back at me. I sigh for the umpteenth time in almost two hours to show my displeasure. Sometimes I wonder what I'm doing here.

- "Well, since I've finished my class and we still have some time... It's time to talk about your specialization for the second semester."

- "Our what?" I asked Alexia.

- "You don't know? We're supposed to choose an option for the second semester."

- "What? Is this a joke?"

- "It's always like this in the second semester. Wiegman Camp is a private school, so it's Wiegman who decides how it operates."

- "And what's the system?" I sighed.

- "I thought you knew. Well, we have general courses in the first semester and have to choose preferred specializations in the second. It's like this for three years. It operates this way so we can change specializations once if we think we chose the wrong path. It's good like this because if we join a new field, we have to catch up on everything ourselves."

- "Basically, I'd be screwed in any field since I wasn't here for the first two years..."

- "Yeah, pretty much," she chuckles.

A stack of papers arrives. I take two sheets before passing it back. I look at the form with curiosity after handing one to Alexia. It's an enrollment form with a list of options. I'm completely lost. I haven't been to classes for two years. How am I supposed to know what I want to do? I sigh, scratching my head. This is an unexpected problem. I would have preferred general courses until the end of the year.

- "You know the drill," starts our teacher. "Three choices are possible. You'll be accepted based on your first-semester report card and the number of available spots."

- "Will the classes be mixed then?" I asked Alexia. "Or will we only be separated for the options?"

- "No, the classes will be mixed," she grimaces at my dismayed expression.

Oh no... This means we risk being separated. Not to mention I'll have a new schedule and new teachers. My situation was fine as it was! Why do they always have to change everything?!

- "The enrollment form is due by the end of the week, with no extensions."

This whole thing already annoys me. End of the week? It's short notice for someone who wasn’t informed and doesn’t know what they want to do. I'm sure everyone already has an idea since they've had this before. I pack up my things as the bell signals the end of class. I'm the first to leave the room. I have five more hours of classes, including the lunch hour. Luckily for me, my morning passes quickly. To be honest, this options thing occupied all my thoughts during my last two hours before noon. I studied the sheet all morning. I reached the same conclusion: Nothing interests me. It's driving me crazy. Luckily, I can finally eat to clear my mind by seeing the others. This joy quickly fades when the main topic is about the specializations. I avoided the discussion until now, but Alba invites me to join by asking a question.

- "And you, Ona? Do you already have an idea where you're going?"

- "No, not really."

- "Join sports with me," she suggests. "It would be cool if we were together for once!"

I furrow my brow as the rest of the table bursts into uncontrollable laughter. A smile escapes my lips. I really like Alba, but she's very clumsy in her approaches. She should know that's not the kind of option that interests me, or she's really dumb. I find it almost adorable that she wants us to be together.

- "You're really dumb," Leah comments. "Ona, in sports?"

- "Everyone knows sports and Ona are like oil and water," her sister adds.

- "But you do jogs with Bronze!" Alba defends herself.

- "I haven't done them for a week. It was just to clear my head before classes. Your sister is right, I hate sports."

I smile at her adorable face. I almost feel bad for disappointing her like this. She's between the shame of proposing such a thing and the sadness of my refusal.

- "Come with Pina and me in engineering then," Patri suggests.

- "Engineering?" I repeat. "I'm good at practical stuff, but not in that field, sorry," I giggle. "I don't know what I'll do yet, I'll see."

- "You have a week to think about it, be careful, it's short," Leah tells me.

- "What are you taking?" I asked.

- "No idea," she shrugs. "Probably the same as the last two times..."

If I want reassurance, I just need to look at Leah. At least I know I'm not the only one lost. Sometimes I wonder why she's here. She doesn't care about anything and doesn't hide it. The proof is in all the infractions she commits. That's why I adore her and think it's mutual.

- "Too bad for you there's no art in the options," Alexia tells me.

- "I admit, I wouldn't have had to think if there was."

Since Bronze's gift, I haven't stopped drawing before bed if I'm not too tired. It's not a passion I would hide since even my supervisor knows about it. Alexia keeps asking to see my drawings. I find it hard to show her because I find my sketchbooks very personal. I tend to prefer sharing my paintings, which are more abstract, but I have no materials to make them. I finally gave in and showed her some because of her persistence. Alexia has a persuasion I underestimate every time. The topic didn't fall on deaf ears, given how the whole table reacted. I'm bombarded with a multitude of questions that I enjoy answering. It's always easier to talk about something you're passionate about. Now I hope my next classes will pass quickly, but it will be difficult given my racing thoughts.

Monday, November 23; 4:10 PM - Hallway.

My day is over. Or almost. Alexia suggested we work together at the library, but I had to decline, reminding her of my obligations with Bronze. So, here I am on my way to her office. Arriving, I'm surprised to find the door closed. It's the first time it has been. This stresses me out even more than I already am. Since my return, things haven't been the same with Bronze. I take a deep breath before knocking. I recognize her voice giving me permission to enter. She looks surprised to see me, given her expression. I quickly notice the empty desk opposite her. It's surprising that Engen is not at her post.

- "Ona," Bronze snaps me out of my thoughts. "What are you doing here? Did you do something I don't know about?"

- "No... Am I not supposed to come to catch up on my classes?"

- "Oh, right. I thought you were done. Well, sit down and leave the door open."

If I had known she would forget, I would have stayed with Alexia... I timidly enter the room while she clears space on her desk. I sit across from her, in my usual spot. She doesn't pay much attention to me and continues her work.

- "Engen isn't here?"

- "She has a day off."

- "Oh."

- "Do you still have a lot to catch up on?"

- "I don't think so. Do you mind if I prioritize my math? I have a test on Wednesday."

- "Not at all, manage as you see fit. It's you who'll stay here longer."

I would gladly do without this obligation, but it doesn't bother me much either. At least I'm at peace here. I'm not a diligent student, but I'm far from stupid. I just lack motivation, and my sigh expresses it well.

- "Bronze?"

- "Hmm? What do you want now?"

- "Never mind, forget it."

I was about to make a big mistake. Fortunately, her sharp response brings me back to reality. I dive into my math without adding anything. She sighs in turn.

- "Come on, talk, I can see you're troubled."

- "No, it's fine, don't worry. My request is ridiculous..."

- "No request is ridiculous if it's thought out. I have the right to judge it myself, don't I?"

I didn't expect her to insist. I know Bronze is naturally curious. The only time she doesn't insist is on taboo subjects related to my past. I nervously run my hand through my hair. I decide to show her instead of answering. I rummage in my bag and hand her a sheet. She takes it under my watchful eye. She quickly furrows her brow, looking up at me.

- "Why are you giving me this sheet? It's for choosing options, right?"

- "Uh...," I say, turning my head, embarrassed by the question I'm about to ask. "I was wondering if you could help me with my choices. I have no idea what I want to do."

- "Wouldn't you rather see this with your parents?"

I sigh, snatching the sheet from her hands. I knew it was a bad idea. I wonder why this idea crossed my mind. It was really stupid of me. I put the form away while answering her.

- "Forget it, I told you it was ridiculous."

- "Hey, don't take it like that," she smiles. "It was just a simple question. Why would you rather see this with me than with them?"

- "I'm not on good terms with my mother," I admit. "You're the only 'authority' I have," I added, miming quotation marks.

- "Why didn't you tell me? By the way, how did your return go? Tell me you still live with them at least?"

I can't help but smile at all her questions. Finally, my request is good. It feels like everything is back to normal, even though it's far from it. I take a deep breath. She has the right to know, after all. I just hope she won't ignore me anymore after our discussion. I couldn't bear it any longer.

- "I live with my mother, her boyfriend, and their son, Joan. So yes, I still live with one of my parents. Otherwise, my return went well until I saw my mother after work on Saturday. We had a violent argument about what happened, but well, it's not new," I shrug. "I cleared my mind by taking Joan to the ice rink and... And by going to a party," I admit, lowering my head.

Making the connection, I realize that Bronze scolded me for the same reasons as my mother. The difference is that Bronze has the right to be mad at me. Unlike my mother, Bronze gives me the chance to defend myself and understand me. She worries about me in a different way.

- You see, this is what I blame you for. Why didn't you come talk to me instead of forgetting your problems for the evening? I gave you my number for this reason. You could have avoided an argument between us too.

- I know, I'm sorry.

My throat is tight. I'm on the verge of crying, realizing my mistakes. Bronze forces me to lift my head, which makes things even harder to face.

- Everything is settled now, isn't it?

- Yes, I learned my lesson... I won't go to parties anymore, and I want to apologize again. I didn't mean to worry you.

She smiles at me in a strange way. I couldn't interpret her expression. All I want now is for her not to be mad at me anymore. I'm determined to listen to her for the rest of the year if necessary.

- If we go back to the first day you set foot here, you would never have said something like that. I'm proud of you Ona, you have evolved a lot since you arrived. I almost... I said almost, regret calling you immature.

I look at her with wide eyes. If she wants me to crack, she's close to succeeding. No one has said such words to me in a long time. I don't know how to feel after so much recognition.

- It's not perfect yet, but your behavior is redeemable, she says playfully.

- It's hard, you know... To get back up when you're at rock bottom.

I swallow hard, thinking back to everything I've been through since my teenage years. I haven't had an easy life. I feel like it's been rough on me, even though I'm partly responsible for some things. I try to convince myself that I'm happy, but that's far from the truth.

- I know, Ona. But you're making progress step by step, and that's very good.

- It's thanks to you, I whisper.

I think she heard my words, but I'm relieved she doesn't bring it up.

- Well, about your wishes, of course I'll help you if you want. You didn't have to be shy. You should know you can ask me anything. My answer was already yes just by hearing your question.

- Thank you...

- I'll finish my file first. It'll take me half an hour. You can continue your math, and we'll discuss it afterward, okay?

- OK, I replied, making her smile.

All my stress evaporated. Bronze has this influence on me, without me understanding how. I'm no longer used to asking for help. I feel embarrassed every time. It's the first time in a long while that I've made a request. Normally, I manage on my own, or Bronze always offers first. That was the case when she helped me during withdrawal. Everything was a proposition. This time it was different. I had to ask her. I tend to forget she's here now. Mapi is probably right. I should confide in her about my past. The only thing that blocks me is that there are so many things that are hard to say out loud. I've kept these topics deep inside, never having had the courage to talk to anyone about them. I push these thoughts away to concentrate actively on my math. I would like to get a good grade for once. It will be difficult given my level. Not only do I have a crappy teacher, but I'm also behind. These are chapters I've already studied in high school, but it's been too long to remember them. I feel like my teacher confuses me more than anything in my logic. I delve into my exercises without paying attention to the time. I started to think that half an hour should be long, so I looked up. It seems I was right. She must have been watching me for a while, given her amused look. I remove the back of my pen from my mouth with slightly red cheeks. I have the habit of nibbling it unconsciously when I'm deep in thought. I deduce that she finished her work because I no longer see a file on her desk. The show I was putting on must have been entertaining for her not to stop me in my work.

- Do you need help, perhaps?

- No, it's fine, thanks, I declined.

Without asking my permission, she takes the sheet full of scribbles. I must have restarted this exercise three times. She smiles before getting up. I don't immediately understand her intention until she sits on the empty chair next to me.

- Everything is wrong. Give me your pen.

I hand it to her without thinking. It's just a simple quadratic equation. I've always been good at math, even if it's not my favorite subject. However, nothing is working out for me this year. I feel like my teacher explains too much for nothing. I was forced to go back to basics because of him. That's what I was doing, but I realized that even I couldn't manage anymore. Bronze studies my sheet attentively. She must be looking for the mistake.

- If your formulas are wrong, you won't get far, she indicates.

She turns the sheet over to the blank back. She rewrites the new formulas as well as the equation before sliding the sheet back to me.

- Here, try again.

- You don't have to do this, we can-

- If I remember correctly, you have until the end of the week to submit your wishes, right?

- Yeah...

- So we have until Thursday evening to study them. The most important thing right now is your math test. We'll work on them together until dinner time.

I blush at the thought of her helping me with my homework. I think it's something that hasn't happened to me since primary school. She smiles at me and places the pen on the sheet. She leans back in the chair, crossing her arms.

- Come on, get to work, she orders. I want all the exercises you do tonight to be mastered when you leave my office.

- It's going to be hard to catch up on two years...

- Is it like this in all subjects?

- Not all, but most, yes...

- I don't understand why they put you in the final year if you haven't studied since high school, she murmurs, probably more to herself than to me.

- I was good in high school, I shrugged. My mother must have had something to do with it.

- Well, let's start by working on your math tonight. It would be a shame if you got a bad grade when you're trying so hard. For the other subjects, come see me if you have any problems.

- I don't want to bother you...

- If I offer my help, it's not a bother. The last thing we need is for you to fail your final exam.

- You really don't have to do this, Bronze...

- It makes me happy, I assure you. Don't hesitate to ask for help. I'm here for that too.

I don't know what to say to her. I doubt she's here to help me with my studies. But it's reassuring to know she'll be there if I have questions. I smile at her timidly before leaning over the sheet she points to. I start the equation again for the umpteenth time, with the correct formulas this time. Bronze watches me attentively while I work. It's strange to be under such supervision. It hasn't happened since I was old enough to do my homework alone. What delights me the most is that we're finally talking normally again after a week of silence. When I finish, I show her what I've done. She looks for a moment before smiling.

- See, when you want to! Give me that, she asks, pointing to my pen.

I see her write a new equation next. I don't complain. She's doing this to help me after all. I get back to work without a word. We continue this way for a good hour. She gave me simple equations at first to get me back on track, then she gradually increased the difficulty. On top of that, she varied the equations to cover all the chapters I've studied this year. If I got stuck on something, she took her time to explain my mistakes and gave me another one to do right after. I must be on my fifth rough draft sheet since we started. I admit I'm starting to get slightly fed up. While I don't mind continuing, it annoys me when I can't get it right. That's exactly what's happening with the sign tables. I think it's the tenth time she's explained the principle, but I still don't understand and I'm starting to lose patience. I hate when I don't get something right away. It often means I'll never understand.

- Make an effort, Ona. Focus, it's not that complicated!

- I can't do it! You can see I'm always getting it wrong! I grumble in frustration.

- Why did you put "plus" here? she asks me.

I remain silent in response to her question. I'm afraid of giving the wrong answer. Bronze sighs. She must be as annoyed with the situation as I am. She gets closer to the paper, and therefore to me as well.

- Did you listen when I explained it to you?

- Of course! I retorted.

- Then explain to me. Why did you put a "plus" here? she points to the table.

- Because it follows the sign of "a"? I say in the form of a question, not being sure.

-Are you sure?

She leans back in her chair again, crossing her arms when she realizes my hesitation. She just wants to destabilize me to see if I’m sure of myself, and she succeeds perfectly. She already did this earlier by asking me a question when my answer was correct. This time, I don't dare to respond immediately. I prefer to think it over to be sure, but I get nowhere. I groan in frustration, throwing the pen on the desk. I watch Bronze pick it up with an amused smile. I was about to make a remark, but we get interrupted by someone knocking on the door. We both instinctively turn to see Alexia at the door. I furrow my brows, not understanding why she’s here.

"Hello, Bronze."

"Hello, Alexia," she smiles.

"Were you looking for me?" I ask.

"Yeah, it's seven o'clock. We’d like to have dinner with the others, so I wanted to know if we should wait for you or go ahead?"

Is it already seven o'clock? I hadn't noticed the time passing. I first look at my unfinished exercise on my sheet before glancing at Bronze. I’d like to go, but I’m not sure she’ll let me before I finish.

"Don’t look at me like that. Of course, you can go. I’m hungry too. Just finish this exercise by tomorrow and think about the question I asked you."

"Are you serious? You’re giving me homework for tomorrow?" I ask, astonished.

"Remind me who we're doing this for?"

I roll my eyes, unable to argue. She’s taking time out of her day to help me, after all. I sigh but nod. I gather all my things that have invaded Bronze’s personal space and put them in my bag.

"Alright, for tomorrow. Always after my classes?"

"Always, you haven't finished catching up on your courses yet."

"At this rate, I’ll never make it," I laugh.

"Don’t say that, we made good progress tonight. We reviewed all your equation chapters in just two hours."

It's true that it's not bad for two hours. The best part is that I almost understood everything. I understand Bronze’s explanations so much better. She hands me my pen, and I put my things in my bag. I zip it up and stand to stretch my legs. I put my chair away and smile at Bronze, who has also stood up.

"Thanks for your help..."

"No problem. Don’t hesitate next time."

She walks around the desk to get her jacket after tidying up her desk.

"Well... Have a good dinner and a good evening."

"Thanks, you too. See you tomorrow."

We smile at each other before I join Alexia, who has been waiting at the door since the beginning. We leave, and she waits until we're far enough to talk without anyone eavesdropping.

"You kept your personal study sessions with Bronze a secret from me," she teases. "So, things are better with her now?"

I must have told Alexia about my weekend and how Bronze found out I was out partying. I would have preferred to avoid it, but Bronze’s behavior towards me hadn’t gone unnoticed. She inevitably asked questions that I had to answer. This earned me some remarks from her, agreeing with Bronze. I then had to reassure her that I didn’t intend to go back to drugs. My last withdrawal was more than enough.

"It’s not what you think. She just helped me when she saw I was struggling. Otherwise, I think things are better... We talked a bit and I’d say the tension has been relieved."

"Yeah! Anyway, I’m glad she’s talking to you again. It seemed like you were about to fall into a depression because of her ignoring you."

"Nonsense!" I retort, hitting her shoulder.

"Oh yes! You didn't even realize. How did you get her to listen? Because she didn't seem like she wanted to let you explain yourself."

"I asked her to help me with my preferences..."

"Oh yeah? Why?"

"I have no idea what to do... I haven't been in school for two years because of my detox and all that. So, we talked about it, and I ended up apologizing for my mistake on Saturday night..."

"Well, at least it ended well. Did she say yes to help you with the preferences?"

"Yes, yes. We're going to discuss it before Friday."

"That's cool of her. I find her cooler since you’ve been here."

"Bronze cooler? Are you kidding me? She was mad at me for a whole week!"

"You asked for it," she giggles. "But seriously, it’s true. She rarely takes care of anyone else besides you now, and it seems like she's nicer to you than the other students."

"Oh no, she’s not nicer to me," I grimace. "She’s demanding. Should I remind you that she banned me from all parties during my free time and threatened to revoke all my outings from the camp if I come back in a state?"

"She banned you from parties?" she exclaims. "Because of your last weekend?"

"Yeah," I sigh. "I guess I asked for it according to her."

"Yeah, but still! You're right, it's exaggerated! It's normal to go out when we’re free. She shouldn’t have the right to forbid you from doing things outside the school grounds."

"Except she’s completely right."

"Yes, but still... She shouldn’t. She has no influence outside, normally. She doesn't even have a way to verify it."

"True, except I'm a terrible liar in front of her," I laugh. "I mean, she knows everything I do here down to the second, so I have this impression it's the same when I’m outside."

"I see," she giggles. "If you’re acting strange, it’s normal for her to notice something’s wrong."

"At the same time, she has that look that makes me talk, you know? She has so much influence over me now that just talking about it, I feel like I could feel bad at a party just thinking I'm disobeying her."

"Are you serious?" she bursts out laughing. "I didn’t know Bronze scared you that much! Everyone thinks you’re the one who isn’t impressed... You’re breaking my heart, shattering the legend," she says dramatically, putting her hands to her heart.

"Shut up," I laugh. "You’re really stupid, you know that!"

I gently hit her, joining her laughter. We change the subject when we reach the cafeteria. I like talking to her, but I don't really want to discuss this topic with or in front of the others. Alexia is the person I’m closest to here, and that's just fine with me. The others are already at the table waiting for us. So, Alexia and I quickly get our food to join them and finish my evening more calmly.

[sweet-star-sketches]

Coloured Sketches from January 3rd-27th, 2025 Adult life has temporarily stopped the art train (I just need to survive the rest of this week and the beginning of the next and I should be good... I hope) but for now I can still upload some more of my doodle backlog. So, tonight on My Incredibly Self-Indulgent Nonsense™: Dragons! :D

I have a LOT more in the works for these, including silly doodles/interactions, full body drawings and design notes to go with them, but I figured the coloured head shots would be the most interesting to comp together for now :]

For anyone wondering, even for the ones that already have variants here (Saiou, Manjoume) I still consider all of these to be "first drafts" in general, stuff that I came up with on the spot based on what I currently know about each character and their visual and/or narrative motifs, rather than a more lengthy design phase like I usually do that involves more research and planning. So things are bound to change if I decide to explore or expand on these concepts more, but I already really like what I've come up with so far anyway! My buddy @eleanorose123 also gave me some really good suggestions along the way :D Dragons are incredibly versatile for this kind of stuff and have incredibly malleable lore/rules already, so I wanted to see how I could interpret different elements. Even for "first drafts" like these, I still try to obtain some level of context for a character in order to incorporate that into an interpretation like this. It's actually wild how well Yu-Gi-Oh characters specifically translate to dragon designs, I love it! Though it is obviously on my mind, I didn't actually plan for all of these to be from GX specifically, but of course that helps them go together here! That said, there are also soooooo many other designs across all of the Yu-Gi-Oh series that I can and will play with for this though, so stay tuned for more (seriously I could do this all day haha!) For now though, hope you like :]

[velvetfoxgames]

Following the MBTI stuff, for fun, here are some gathered quotes about knowing if the types are into you.

Alexei INTJ

"Ever the observer, they’ll want to know and engage in your likes and dislikes, dreams and goals, and more. They might even use this to help inform how they interact with you and what they do for and with you, often putting your interests above their own."

"Once they know, they’ll use that information to put a smile on your face. In many cases, their gestures might be small and subtle, but this isn’t something that they’ll do for just anybody."

“Sadly for me, I fit perfectly into the stereotype of INTJs being romantic disasters. The art of subtle flirting is unknown to and lost on me. I generally try finding events we would mutually be interested and asking the other if they wish to go see it. Basically, just asking them to hang out one-on-one, without explicitly asking them out on a date.”

"INTJs aren’t normally very physical. So if they do allow hugs or are otherwise willing to be touchy-feely, it means that they trust you a lot — especially if they’re the ones to initiate the physical contact"

Brooklyn ENTJ

"If an ENTJ has been unusually direct, taking the initiative to engage you in stimulating conversations, you may have just received an unmistakable sign an ENTJ likes you."

"The planning and strategic aspect of giving meaningful gifts and memorable moments are something an ENTJ will relish doing for the people they care deeply for. And while you may not even realize that they knew all the little things that would make you happy or have meaning for you, they would’ve carefully attended to this in the days and weeks beforehand.  

"When we are genuinely interested, our Sensing (Se) function draws us to focus intensely on you, making you the center of our universe."

"Compromise is something that isn’t necessarily often done. Still, when it is, you can be assured that ENTJ values you and your relationship – your happiness being more critical than their routine or goals will manifest in them changing plans, compromising, or finding a different way to make it work. This is a definite sign of their affection for you."

Leo ESFP

"We love to turn our full, sparkly attention on someone we're into!"

"If they are interested in you only as a crush, they can act more freely around you: smiles, giggles and, possibly, superficial conversations. But if they really like you romantically, then they’ll become a little shy." / "We get nervous when we are close to someone we like a lot. We can even become awkward."

"Of course consistency is a very good sign. ESFP are very independent and soon lose interest in someone. It’s easy for them to have a crush, but they fall in love with much more difficulty. Consistency means ESFP likes you a lot in 99% of cases."

"A rule of thumb for us: if you have to ask "does an ESFP like me?" The answer is probably no lol. Se Fi isn't exactly known for its subtlety. How this manifests for me is i will want to spend all my time around a person. I'll invite them places, I'll go places i know they'll be, offer to help them with stuff they're doing, and I'll pay extra attention to them in a group setting."

Milo INTP

"An unexpected warmth, heightened intellectual curiosity towards you, and unusual social efforts. Bear in mind, these cues may be subtle and sporadic."

"INTP pretends they dislike you. This is not so much a visible sign but rather a confounding and self-sabotaging defense mechanism INTP deploys, probably out of fear of rejection."

"We usually keep conversations lighthearted and cordial. However, if we start rambling about the latest conspiracy theory, that crossword clue we’re stumped on, or the documentary that tickled our brains—watch out, you may be in crush (or at least close friend) territory."

"INTPs have an uncanny talent for remembering an entire backlog of information about someone's past or preferences. When INTPs are in their feelings, they'll randomly bring those details up in conversations. Our crush becomes a fun trivia game we’re invested in exploring further."

Rory INFJ

"They might hand you a book, saying, 'I knew you'd love this,' even if you've never expressed your literary preferences to them"

"Have you noticed a fleeting touch, a seemingly awkward gesture emanating from your INFJ companion? Perhaps, a light brush of the hand that seemed unintentional but was, in fact, meticulously premeditated?"

"Something that INFJs are highly fond of doing, is showing someone that they like them by little reminders through music and art. If they create a playlist or share a song with you, they want you to know that they are thinking of you or that a specific song reminds them of you."

"More than anything, they expressed a deep desire to connect emotionally with someone they like. They will be more emotionally open, express more of their deeper longings, and become more vulnerable with you if they like you. If they’re not into you, they will probably keep these things closer to the chest and appear slightly more guarded."

Tobias ESTP

"ESTPs aren’t typically mysterious about wanting to impress you. They’ll lift heavy objects, crack the funniest jokes (winking at you afterwards), and challenge competitors to arm-wrestling matches just to show you their power or wit."

"ESTPs get a major thrill from seeing you laugh. Whether they’re impersonating cartoon characters saying over-the-top sexy lines, pranking someone (think Jim Halpert from The Office) or making silly faces at you during a serious board meeting, they’ll find some way to trigger your funny bone."

"These types are all about amping up the current experience and making it memorable and intense. Sometimes this means taking you on the steepest roller coaster in town or playfully stroking your hair while they whisper something in your ear. "

"ESTPs can grow impatient with the emotional ramblings of people they’re not especially close to. But if they care about you romantically, they WANT to know how you feel. In fact, they will put themselves on the line emotionally and try as hard as possible to express their feelings to you."

[gunplotato]

It's been a while without updating my Gunpla log!

This Ground Type from Gundam 08th MS Team (one of my favourite shows) was mainly build on March 2025 (stopped because I travelled to Japan for two weeks) and finished the weapons on April 2025.

Nice kit, but every time I tried to change the pose to take a picture some parts kept falling and it was annoying to fix it... Nevertheless, I am happy I finished it (it was a graduation present from my partner) and now I have the three kits I like from this show built (Ez8 HG, Ground Type HG and Gouf Custom HG) and I also have a Gouf custom MG waiting on the backlog

Next post I will show some gunpla-related memories from my travel (and also everything I bought of course)

[fourohfourlifenotfound]

A guide to inciting change in a corporate environment

Based on my own experience at large USAmerican companies as someone who has Gotten Shit Done before

This guide is not everything, but it's a place to start

Start with your own mindset

You won't get anywhere if you don't believe you can

First and foremost: Are you scared of losing your job if you speak up? Well, then I ask you: do you still want to work for this company if they do not change the thing you want to change? If not, then the risk losing your job may be worth it. It is your choice, but think on it carefully. What bridges would you burn in the worst case scenario? Is the change you want worth burning them? If so, proceed:

Stop being scared to rock the boat. The captain won't change course if the path is clear.

If you're worried about "complaining" and the social perceptions that come with that: Complaining doesn't always mean you hate something. Complaining can mean you love something but want it to be better. If you're trying to enact change instead of outright leaving, I suspect you lean towards the latter

Angry? Good. Productive anger is useful. But you need to take a deep breath and be collected enough to be in control of your words and actions. Balance is most effective thing here

Find where to apply leverage

Who are you mad at? Is that the right person to be mad at? If this person does not have direct control over the thing you want to change, you're mad at the wrong person. You don't want to be the asshole who yells at the waiter when the chef is the one who undercooked the chicken, ya know?

[Rest of post below the cut because it's long]

It can take some time to find the right person who is in direct control over what you want to change. The larger the company, the more convoluted the structure, and the more times you're going to hear "that's not my purview." It's not always the guy at the top. You need someone with enough power to start the change but who is close enough to the issue to understand what is going on. You might have to ask around and be redirected a few times before you find the right one. Take notes in this stage, it'll help.

General rule of thumb for finding the right person: the bigger the ask, the more power you need to enact change. This might mean recruiting more people, people with higher up positions who have more power, or people who are closer to the issue. It's like lever physics: a fulcrum closer to the load and more effort applied will result in lifting the load.

Talking to the "wrong person"-- someone who can't enact the change you desire-- isn't a waste of time. They might be able to direct you to the right person. Or they might be sympathetic to your cause and join your campaign. More bodies = more power = more leverage.

Beware the dead inbox. If you don't get a response after a week or so (with no indication of an away message for someone on vacation), then send a follow-up email, find a new contact, or both. (* this advice is for emails and does not apply to ticket help desks for technology things. Those people usually have a huge backlog of bugs and they'll get to it when they get to it)

Learn how to complain effectively

Not everybody you encounter will be resistant to change, so cool your jets before you talk to someone. Try the nice approach first, the one where you explain your problem with the assumption that they didn't know of the problem and will be sympathetic and willing to help. More "aggressive" tactics will become justified after your problem is brushed off.

Regardless of where you are in the process or how dismissive the other party is acting, always use polite corporate manners and a professional tone. You'll meet more resistance you're percieved as rude. Use a proper email format, avoid swearing, etc

Do some reading on how to write a clear corporate email, if you're not already familiar. Too much for this post so I'm gonna throw you some key ideas and phrases for further research: clear subject line, putting the ask up front, inverted pyramid, etc. There's tons of guides out there that can help

Have someone read over your written communications (or scripts for verbal communication, if you want to use those). It can be anyone, but bonus points if the person isn't super familiar with your problem so they can check with clarity. But anyone will work, just having a second set of eyes for typos and "does this sound too rude?" can be a lifesaver. (No, ChatGPT or another genAI chatbot does not count. Build your human network. It's good to have more humans who are in the loop on and sympathetic to your cause, remember?)

Use CorporateSpeak where appropriate. You know, "per my last email" and all that jazz. Maybe instead of "I'm going to quit if this isn't fixed" you mean "this thing will negatively effect employee retention." It takes time and practice to be able to do this on the fly, so below patient with yourself and iterate over your email drafts a couple times. Be careful: there is a fine line between corporate and professional versus confusing and unintelligible. Again, a human editor is a valuable asset while developing this skill.

Think through why the company should care. Yes, it's depressing, but sometimes people need to see why change is profitable because they don't care about human beings. You'll want both carrots and sticks for this. Example carrots: improved efficiency, cost savings, employee retention. Example sticks: fines and lawsuits for breach of legal requirements, customer dissatisfaction, additional costs. Don't just list these things, they're only outcomes. Explain why we'd reach these outcomes if the thing did/did not change.

Know when to email and when to meet. I know everyone and their mother has told you to get it in writing, but sometimes a meeting can be extremely useful for clearing up miscommunication that can easily happen over email, or for getting time from someone who is so busy that their inbox is on the verge of becoming a dead end one. If you're going to meet, send an agenda with topics/questions ahead of time (in the meeting description if you're in Outlook), take notes as you go on points discussed and action items on both sides, and send a follow up communication with those notes and emphasis on the action items and their deadlines.

More on dealing with the Corporate Bullshittery Machine

You need to be a persistence predator. Be respectful and understand it may take time for them to respond, but follow up if too much time has passed (a week is my general rule on emails without a specific deadline).

Be prepared for it to take time. Most teams at most companies have a minimum of a one year plan for what they're working on. I've seen teams with 5 year backlogs of work. Your change might not be important enough to go anywhere else than the back of the pile, and you might have to live with that. Ask for timelines and check back in when appropriate.

Express understanding with extenuating circumstances. If they say "we have all these other higher priority things going on" and/or "we would need to deal with a lot of other things to solve this" then responding with "I totally get it, I just want this fixed as soon as you're able" will get you more sympathy than trying to push back against circumstances they probably can't change.

Use systems where necessary. If a team funnels all of their new work in though service desk tickets, you're not gonna get around it with an email. If you think you have, someone is probably just making that ticket for you-- or worse, they're doing some work without credit for getting work done. So if someone tells you to make a ticket, do it. Especially if it's "this website / app / technology is broken". The help desk tickets system is the first place to go when finding the right place to be mad, actually. Emails are what follows when your ticket is not addressed in a timely fashion.

That's everything I could think of. More than happy to provide more advice to people in notes or asks.

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  LadyKailitha! @ladykailitha has 33 fics posted to AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 32 of them are in the Steddie Tag.

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @ladykailitha:

Little Runaway

Staking My Claim

I'll Be Your Knight

Eddie's Big Stevie Rescue

"LadyKailitha is a wonderful writer both on Tumblr (shout out to WIP Wednesday, makes my day!!) and on AO3! They absolutely deserve all the recognition and respect for their work. And now I'd like to share the love 🫶"-- anonymous

Below the cut, @ladykailitha answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I’m obsessed with them. LOL! On a more serious note, it’s because I relate to the two characters a lot and want to see them happy.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Childhood friends. I just love watching them be friends as kids and then grow apart and then back together again. I could read it a billion times and do it again. As long as there’s a happy ending of course.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

AUs. Just all of them. I like canon Eddie and Steve, but putting them in different worlds and still finding ways to make them who they are. chef’s kiss

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

There are so many good ones but one that I’ve read several times is STRIKE TEN by oaseas. So good.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

That’s the best part of steddie is not knowing there’s a troupe I want to write for until inspiration strikes. Like I never thought I’d do a sugar baby/daddy AU, but I’m currently writing one. Ditto for omegaverse, but now I’ve written two from the same universe. But as I’m typing this… probably sentinel/guide. The idea has always intrigued me.

What is your writing process like?

First is day dreaming up an idea. Then depending on how long the idea is, I’ll do a short write up about. If it’s long, then it gets treated with plot beats I want to hit. I don’t consider it an outline, because they aren’t in order. Then I will sit down and start writing. I will do at least 400 words a day and keep at it until I have at least 3 or 4 chapters into it before I start posting.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I have to have a backlog of unpublished chapters because I worry if I’m not putting out stories people will lose interest. It’s also so that if I write myself into a corner I can go back a couple of chapters if I have to and change it to fit the new direction the story is going.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Definitely on a schedule. I’ve tried waiting until I’m done and I just get too excited for other people to read it and start posting.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Well Met By Moonlight. I’m really proud of the world building and mystery.

How did you get the idea for Little Runaway?

When I first got into the fandom, there was a severe lack of Eddie and Steve postseason 2 and I really wanted to lean into that a bit.

When writing Little Runaway, what was something you didn’t expect?

Max becoming a reader insert in a way. Where you see the characters through her eyes at the end.

What inspired Staking My Claim?

LOL! Steve licking Eddie’s hand like he was a cupcake he didn’t want to share.

What was your favorite part to write from Staking My Claim?

Jeff. I loved how he just kinda rocked up and said, “As Eddie’s boyfriend, you are now my responsibility and no, you don’t get a say in this.”

How do/did you feel writing I'll Be Your Knight?

I love this one. It really does not get enough praise honestly. I loved the idea of the sound of Steve’s lighter as he lights and puts it out over and over again. I just really loved the idea of Steve guarding Eddie because he’s part of the group now.

What was the most difficult part of writing Eddie's Big Stevie Rescue?

The subject matter. It’s one of my darkest fics because Steve gets slipped a date rape drug and the fall out of not trusting the people you care about with the deepest parts of yourself. Also, keeping the tension ramped up.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

I absolutely love the scene with Billy and Steve from “Never Hold Back Your Step…” when Billy gets Steve’s lifeguard job and Steve calls him a washed up surfer. That whole takedown was cathartic as hell.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’m currently working on a couple that I think are just so much fun. “The Hellfire Exotic Club” a stripper AU that has been a blast to write. And “Of Butterflies and Backstrokes” the Olympic swimmer AU. I’m proud of that title, too.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

nope!

Thank you to our author, @ladykailitha, and our anonymous nominator! See more of LadyKailitha's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[thetomorrowshow]

just when i was getting to know you

TRUST AU

yeah yeah i'm posting a lot of trust au. i have a backlog ok

~

Joel wouldn’t say he was the closest person to Scott. Sure, they know each other. They’re friends. They've been in House Blossom councils together for the past ten years, and Scott's been joining in on family night, and the elf's engaged to his brother-in-law and best friend, so they have to at least be acquaintances. They happen to be friends.

Friends or no, they certainly aren’t best pals.

To suddenly be possibly the closest person to Scott at the time of his death is more than a little pressure.

Well, Katherine's there, too, but she seems even more shellshocked than Joel.

It's—well, the whole thing is . . . incredibly violent. Xornoth throws Scott around with tentacles, kicks him into the ground, breaks his wing. . . .

Katherine covers her eyes. Joel watches, flinching at every knock of Scott's head against the stony ground.

When Xornoth drags Scott up for the final time, Joel gets one last look at him—dusty, hair tangled, scraped and bleeding and eyes barely open, limbs dangling helplessly—and then he's thrown off the edge of the cliff.

Joel doesn't run with everyone else to peer over the side.

Joel flicks open his elytra and takes off into the sky, heading the opposite direction.

Xornoth watches him.

Joel doesn't know why, but Xornoth lets him go.

And that's terrifying, just a little bit.

Xornoth doesn't think the massive armies of Mezelea are enough of a threat to kill him here and now, like he did Scott.

Scott's dead.

Goodness, Scott's dead.

Rivendell has always been a force to be reckoned with. Ancient and up in those frozen mountains, Joel hadn't even considered that such a country could fall so early in a war that hadn't yet reached its borders.

The Codlands had fallen in one bloody day.

Now, in a reflection of its deceased lover, Rivendell has too.

Joel soars across the ocean, wondering just how long it will be until Rivendell is forced into servitude. Mere days, like the Codlands? Or maybe more gradually, a months-long process designed to make the elves feel in-control of their descent.

How many are left to fight the evil? Him, Lizzie. Shubble's certainly been conquered as well, seeing as Grimlands army would have marched through the Undergrowth to reach Rivendell. Katherine has thus far declared neutrality, as has Pearl. Pix hasn't been heard from since the war began. And Gem—

Gem's down, too. Possibly dead. And her students aren't really built for war, try as they might.

So it's just him and Lizzie.

Goodness. And they're supposed to win this fight, let alone survive?

It isn't exactly black and white, of course. There are likely fugitives leaving Rivendell and the Overgrown as he flies, and he has a small army of Rivendell soldiers in his forces that Scott sent over several weeks ago, and he and Lizzie have already been strengthened the slightest bit by dissenters from the enemy armies. They aren't as alone in this as he feels.

Still. The loss of Rivendell is a terrifying, war-changing blow. Rivendell gone, Scott dead—

Joel feels like nobody ought to be able to blame him for feeling a bit hopeless.

He needs to get back to Mezelea, reorganize his armies, inform his support from Rivendell that they cannot return home, contact Shubble and see what they can do to help. He needs to do all sorts of kingly matters that really shouldn’t wait.

But he stops at the palace rising out of the depths of the ocean, landing on one of the towers and hitting the ground running, elytra flapping in the wind behind him.

He sprints through the doors, down the hall, takes a left, Lizzie's probably in some sort of important meeting so he takes another left toward her war room—

There's a soldier standing guard outside of the room, and when Joel approaches, he shuffles to block his entrance.

"Her majesty is not to be disturbed," the guard says, blocking Joel from entering. "She is in a meeting with—"

"I'm her husband and I do what I want," Joel tells him, before shoving him aside and going in.

Lizzie is standing at the opposite end of a somewhat large, square table, pointing at a map, a gnome amongst three other advisors (one the Rivendell ambassador, another clearly fae) gathered with her. When Joel enters, they all look up.

Lizzie isn't wearing grey.

Her dress is purple, the sleeves billowy and light. Her hair is down, neatly brushed and falling into her face, her crown set upon it.

Her mourning period has ended.

"Joel?" she says, brow furrowed. "I asked to not be interrupted."

Joel strides across the room, stopping at the other end of the table. "Right, right, but—"

"These plans are only to be known between those of us present, it's frankly a war crime for you—"

"Scott is dead," he says loudly, and Lizzie freezes.

"I—what?"

"Scott is dead, and Rivendell surrendered," he says, and the elf in the room (Elif, if he remembers correctly) actually staggers back.

"The king?" Elif demands, his hands shaking. "King Scott? You—you jest!"

Joel shakes his head. "I saw it," he manages, the shock of it all really hitting him. "He's dead."

"What happened?" Lizzie asks, rushing around the table.

Joel shrugs helplessly. "He just—the demon killed him. Scott—he tried to do something, something with magic or whatever, but it didn't work, and the demon just. . . ."

He doesn't want to tell them everything he saw. He doesn't want to tell them of how Scott's body lay crumpled on the ground, his mourning clothes torn and bloody, while Xornoth towered over him, declaring victory.

He doesn't want to tell them that at no point in the battle did Scott have the upper hand.

That it was hopeless from the start.

That he didn't even try to help.

"He's dead," he whispers.

Lizzie's eyes are wide, horrified. She almost seems to search his face for any sign of a lie.

"No," she breathes.

Joel only nods once.

Tonight, he'll tell her what happened.

Tonight, as they get ready for bed, he'll recount in a whisper the demon appearing, the way ice had seemed to burst out of Scott in jerky and uncontrollable ways, the way Xornoth had broken free nonetheless and beaten Scott to the ground and cast him to his death.

He'll hold Lizzie close to his chest as she cries, and a year ago she wouldn't have cared if Scott lived or died but now it's almost like he was the last living piece of Jimmy other than Lizzie herself and with him gone, everything is lost.

He'll lay awake in bed, wondering what on earth will happen now that Rivendell has fallen—will the elves be hounded out of their lands, forced to find homes elsewhere? Will they be forced into servitude? Will Katherine declare loyalty to a side?

Will there be a funeral for Scott?

But right now, as Lizzie turns away, as Elif collapses into a chair, as the gnome mournfully asks Joel what has become of the Overgrown, Joel can't say anything.

He can only stare at the table (with maps and figurines and inkpots) and think of all he must do.

-

"I'm going to mourn," Joel tells Lizzie the next morning.

It's a senseless decision. He should be in gazillions of meetings, preparing his country for refugees and attacks, deciding how to divide his forces, proportioning what to give to those in need. He doesn't have time, in the wake of everything, to spend three days secluded in his quarters.

"You shouldn't do that," Lizzie advises, pinning her hair behind her ear. "You have too much to do."

Joel shrugs. "I'm gonna do it anyway."

"Why?"

"Just feel like I should."

Lizzie sighs. "Joel, you really can't. I need your help with this, your country needs you, you can't just—"

"It's only—"

"—other mourning periods, it would be fine, but Mezelean—"

"—without me for three days—"

"—total isolation, you have—"

"Who else is gonna do it, huh?"

Lizzie falls silent, arms folded. She raises an eyebrow, and Joel struggles to come up with the words.

"Who else is gonna mourn him?"

"His people," Lizzie is quick to answer.

Joel scoffs. "They've just been conquered by the archenemy of their dead ruler—you think the demon will let them?"

"Katherine."

"Katherine doesn't mourn, it isn't a part of her culture."

"Gem."

Joel remembers Gem, lying on the ground, hair entirely white, and shudders. "I don't think she can. She was . . . injured, yesterday."

"We're all mourning him," Lizzie waves him off. "We may not be wearing black, but we all miss him. We're all thinking about him. It's basically the same thing, just without any outward sign."

Yes, but that's part of mourning, isn't it? Scott, at some point last week (it's just like Jimmy, Scott was fine last week and now he's gone forever), had mentioned that his clothing is designed to be as similar as possible to his betrothal clothing, to remind him at every moment of his loss.

The outward signs aren't for others, aren't proof of how sad you are. They're a tool in grieving, in memory.

"You weren't even that close," adds Lizzie. "Would it even be proper to take the mourning period?"

Propriety doesn't matter. Not anymore.

"I know that we've got different beliefs on what happens with death and all that," Joel says awkwardly, trying to figure out how to word this. "But for us, we believe that . . . that there's this, like, waiting period to get into the afterlife. So the three days—it’s like you're waiting with them."

Lizzie nods. They've talked about this before.

Joel looks down at his boots, suddenly unwilling to meet his wife's eyes. "Nobody else will be mourning," he says quietly. "I don't want him to wait alone."

He and Scott weren't that close, it's true. But Scott had intended to marry Joel's best friend and brother-in-law, and that basically makes him family.

Lizzie doesn't argue any more. She only nods, then takes the pin out of her hair and ties it up into a tight bun.

And Joel goes back to Mezelea, and shuts himself in his quarters for three days, despite the contrary advice from his chamberlain.

When he comes out of the mourning period, he's resolved to save everyone he can.

-

And then Scott isn't even dead so it doesn't matter anyway.

But when Joel sees him—because the demon had blasted him to the side, and he'd heard a lot of shouting and chaos while blacked out and trying to regain his bearings on the floor, so it isn't until he stumbles out of the building that he sees him—, his heart actually leaps with joy.

He's alive.

Scott is alive, and he's right there, his back turned away and Joel has never seen him in homespun, brown peasant-like clothes before but it's definitely him, from the shock of blue hair on his head to the familiar satchel hanging from his shoulder.

When Scott turns around, Joel can't help the smile that breaks across his face.

He rallies the troops, claps Scott on the back (he wants to hug him, he wants to pull him in tight and never let go which is weird but whatever), and does his best to act normal.

"I don't know how you're alive," he says, breathless with—with wonder, or something. And maybe Scott isn't really alive, maybe this is some ghost version of him sent back to help them win this (but he feels awfully solid beneath Joel's hand). "But it's good to have you, for however long it'll be."

Scott only stares at him for a moment before asking (that's definitely his voice, his thick elvish accent, his funny-sounding Es and As, so inimitably Scott), "Why does everyone have weapons?"

And Joel just wants to laugh and laugh.

And later, when Scott's asleep in Rivendell's infirmary and Lizzie's some giant axolotl monster thing and Jimmy's also, somehow, alive (Jimmy’s alive Jimmy’s alive Jimmy’s alive), Joel laughs.

He sits on the front steps of the palace, exhausted and bloodstained and with aching arms from carrying bodies, and he laughs.

As his laughter dwindles into chuckles, he looks around at the reclaimed capital of Rivendell, the moon and stars illuminating torn palace grounds and those collecting the dead, and he sighs.

"I'm gonna claim this as my own country," he jokes to himself. "Who's gonna stop me? Rivendell's mine now."

"Good lord, your majesty, please do not," comes a tired voice behind him. Joel glances back to see Ilphas stepping out of the palace, easing the door shut behind themself. "I don't believe I would be able to restrain myself from attempting regicide a second time."

Joel snorts. "Right, wouldn't want to inconvenience you. A different day, maybe." Then, after Ilphas doesn't respond, he adds, "How is he?"

Ilphas offers a small, strained smile. "The king has not yet woken," they say, "though his majesty Pix believes it will not be much longer."

Joel had carried Scott to the infirmary after he had collapsed, the no-longer glowing sword under him. He'd hurried forward, while armies on both sides had remained frozen, and he'd dragged Scott out of the center of everything, laying him beside Jimmy's (Jimmy?) body, because Joel hadn't even known Jimmy was also here and now he was dead again?

None of it made any sort of sense, but as the soldiers of various armies tried to sort out whether or not they should continue fighting, Pix had pushed through the crowd and hefted Jimmy's limp body over his shoulder, before leaving without explanation.

Joel had stared after him for a long moment, wondering if maybe he had hallucinated the whole thing.

Then, gathering strength beyond his normal, he had heaved Scott up and carried him to the palace, where he had been met by several elves who quickly took over.

He'd really just hoped that Scott wasn't dead. Then he'd pushed it out of his mind and set to resolving this war.

Now, here he is. Jimmy is, somehow, alive, sleeping off a life-ending wound.

And Scott is also alive, asleep in the Rivendell infirmary.

Joel kind of feels like he missed a chapter somewhere, because nobody has explained to him how they're both here in the first place (and some part of him still believes that they are spirits, brought back by some ritual to help them defeat the demon), but they're here and they're alive and that's what matters.

And Ilphas, judging by the way they finally seem to be relaxed enough to let their shoulders drop, feels the same.

"It's good to have him back," Joel comments idly, and after a moment, Ilphas nods their agreement.

"It is," they say softly.

Joel's still exhausted. He's still confused. He's got no idea what's going to happen next.

But Scott is back, and Jimmy is back, and the war is over.

So he gets up, and claps Ilphas on the shoulder (the elf starts in surprise), then returns to the fields.

He has to help Rivendell rebuild if he's going to conquer it, after all.

[paper--moons]

Hello gang! Given it is the new year and the blog turned four last month, I have been reflecting and there's a small announcement below the cut for those interested.

So, it's time to give up the ghost, so to speak. I doubt this comes as any surprise, but I feel as if I owe all of you lovely people a little explanation.

As I've mentioned sporadically across a few different posts over the years, I have chronic migraines. I also lost my health insurance a couple years ago, and have since seen a steady decline in my health—on average, I currently have a headache of varying intensities five days a week now without my medication. This can make functioning regularly a struggle at times no matter how used to it I am, but it really affects my writing; I haven't been able to consistently do any substantial amount of writing on my fanworks or on my original projects in several months beyond the occasional note making or a few sentences here and there.

With that in mind, it feels unfair to say I still take requests seeing as how my output has severely dwindled. Thus, I have changed the request status on my pinned post to reflect this.

Until I can get my health sorted, the request status will be listed as the blog being on hiatus. Now, what does this mean? Essentially, I won't be taking requests of any kind—headcanons, paci designs, moodboards, icons, etc. I just cannot do so in good conscience with a turn-around that could be anywhere from weeks to months. That doesn't feel fair to me. However, as I have promised before, my inbox and my ask game will remain open to you all until the end of time. Those are smaller bites that are easier for me to handle at this juncture.

Having said all of that, I will still try and post some of my things when my brain permits it—things such as non-requested items from my backlog that have either been gathering dust, or things that have taken me a lot of time to piece together where it used to only take me a day or so. Of course, I will also still be reblogging things as well.

And I would like to thank everyone who has ever sent me a request, liked or reblogged my silly ramblings, left kind words in their tags, or interacted with me through my inbox. Truly, it has meant so much to me to be able to bring even a little joy to your day if I was able.

TLDR: I am not dead, the blog isn't dead, we are just hibernating and can (hopefully) return to doing requests in full some day. As always, my inbox remains open for chatting or for my ask game. Thank you all so much for sticking with me. 🌙

[sumoattack-gooddog]

Here’s the thing about WatcherTV,

Let’s talk about what’s being offered —

Let’s talk the financial —

Let’s talk the unanswered —

Let’s talk the solution —

Cumulatively since they began — trailers included — Watcher has 377 videos available for view. Netflix has 17,000 titles. Episodes, movies, and most recently games. If the minimum price of Netflix at $6.99/month provides that, how can one justify $6/month for WatcherTV? 2.2% of Netflix’s size is what Watcher is offering — all of which are currently free on YouTube.

The closer similarity, of course, would not be Netflix but Dropout. The prices of their subscriptions are equivalent, but again, what isn’t, is the amount of content. There is already a significant backlog of videos that can be consumed for new subscribers AND three different shows which post weekly. Had the company come forward with a backlog of new media at the ready to be watched, people would have been far more receptive to this proposal.

I understand that, as a creative, you have certain aspirations for making the best version of your idea. You want what you put out in the world to be as close to the image in your head as possible. Sometimes there are constraints due to time, due to money, due to manpower — so on and so forth. I recognize that. I, myself, have worked professionally, academically, and privately in film/media production. I Understand.

What I do not understand is the decision to ostracize a larger portion of your audience. Not everyone can afford a new streaming service — especially one that offers such little in return for the cost. But beyond the American-centric perspective of it. This platform isolates the majority of foreign fans, especially those who are subject to exchange rates. What I have seen some refer to as “the price of a single coffee,” for others is a week’s worth of food.

This community was beautiful and passionate and diverse as a result of its ability to be easily and freely consumed. That will be lost without change.

Furthermore, we see issue derived from the lack of transparency as to what is being offered. We are being promised “bigger and better,” new things, and the return of collapsed things. However, there is a significant lack of clarity and it is felt. Beyond Travel Season and its upcoming May time release, there is no clarity as to what (beyond the old content) people are getting. Yes, there is the vague promise of future seasons of the fan favorites, but there is no clear time as to when. If people subscribe now, how long will they be waiting for content that isn’t already free?

How can this be fixed? Frankly, good fucking question. Perusing through the comments, it’s pretty clear that a majority of fans feel blindsided and lied to. Watcher has consistently denounced capitalism and condemned corporate greed, and to what extent this behavior falls into it definitely raises some questions. I think it is worth acknowledging, they are a company that has grown to put out content. That means they are responsible for 27 (I believe) paychecks, beyond their own. But that is not the only explanation for why they’re doing this. Or their most prominent one — I’ve already acknowledged their bigger and better mindset, but their other reasoning was that they are at the mercy of advertisements. And that this will stop those.

Well, what if it didn’t? The most obvious compromise, in my mind, would be something like Peacock’s cheapest streaming option of roughly $1/month which includes ads to make up the subscription cost disparity from their ad free option. That is far more manageable for most, even with exchange rates, than $6. It would still be a luxury beyond free, but most people would be able to justify a 1 USD splurge especially while waiting for content backlogs to actually come out.

I don’t hate the Watcher company after this, but I am frustrated and disappointed by their announcement. I am sure it was not done without thought, but it does not feel like it given what they have to actually show for this decision. I have been a consumer of their content for 10yrs, and it is what helps me during troubling times — Just as Shane acknowledged caring about. I would hate to lose the connection to this wonderful community because of a narrow minded perspective on the future. I urge @wearewatcher to consider this moving forward.

[wanderingaldecaldo]

2025 Writing Resolutions

I'm not usually one for resolutions but I've been kicking around the idea of having some writing goals after the post I shared last week, and came up with a few that are feasible:

Finish the first draft for one (or both!) of the stories I started last year in new-to-me fandoms

Edit and post the Presidential PWP

Finish the DA:I Blackwall fic that's been 95% complete for years

Daily 15min sprint

Some personal musings about writing (and reading) and WIPs under the cut.

Last fall I lost my Cyberpunk hyperfixation but, after three years of nonstop Val and Mitch (and Rosalind) through VP and modding, it's been a boon to my writing, and once more I'm reminded why I love hate one of my oldest hobbies. I really wish I could reassure my younger self that actually, no, I'll never run out of things to write.

Over my tumblr break, I rewatched the whole Daniel Craig Bond series, all because I really wanted to watch Skyfall, my fave of the entire franchise. Something new happened this time around as I watched the films — Judi Dench and Daniel Craig's chemistry gripped me by the throat and wouldn't let go.

I'm not generally one to visit AO3 (or ff.net back in the day) after consuming a piece of media; I could list out the ones that have on two hands, and still have several fingers left over, even with including the new ones mentioned here.

This time, I was lucky to have found a ship with a backlog of fics to work through. For weeks I read fics, and rewatched their scenes ad nauseam, ever thankful I'd bought the 4-disc set and wasn't reliant having the correct streaming service. Eventually inspiration struck and I started what I thought would be a oneshot. But where there's a WIP there's always more ideas lurking around the corner, and suddenly the oneshot developed into two chapters, with the second spinning quickly into a third.

Over the course of a two-week head cold that knocked out all writing aspirations, I binged all of Ted Lasso and became enamored with the characters and themes, but especially the relationship between Ted and Rebecca. As I watched, I didn't know the status of the show; in fact I had assumed season 4 was in the works. :sad trombone: No slow burn for me. After I finished it, I wanted to rewatch it immediately but decided not to; I wanted to sit with it first, to let it digest. I really didn't think I'd reach the AO3 stage — usually it's like the proverbial bolt of lightning that strikes quickly — but this time, appropriately, it was the friends-to-lovers trope that I adore.

Again, I was lucky to find a veritable treasure trove of fics. I wasn't the only one who wanted more of those two, and again, I found myself inspired with an idea that was two lines of dialog and half a scene held together with spit and twine, and since then it's spaghettied into —yes, you guessed it — three chapters.

Neither of them are anywhere close to being shitty first drafts; they're hand-scratched pages written over consecutive nights where I wrote seven sentences, or maybe seven words or even paragraphs, before nodding off over the notebook. The 00M fic has 2k words transcribed, and that's just the first half of the first chapter, while the rest is mostly vibes and smut, and now there's a fourth chapter, because of course there is. The tedbecca has less than a quarter of that, but it's at least all transcribed now.

Enter Cyberpunk 2.2 and remaking Val and falling in love with this stupid kleptopunk streetrat all over again. Glory shared a "what AO3 tag are you" quiz and I got "only one bed" and said it was ironic since I'd never written one, and she jokingly (???) challenged me to change that. Welp, friends, my brain couldn't stop poking at that and now I have an idea for a new fic featuring fan fave "only one bed" trope, and also a fix-it, another first. Usually I am content to leave canon as is and play within the margins and behind-the-scenes of what we're given, though maybe I will add my own touch to scenes; but I always felt that Driss's death was cheap and easy to avoid. Maybe if we'd been given an actual RPG with real choices, it could have been, but that's a topic for a different rant.

And with the reignited love for Cyberpunk, plus the desire to mark things off my to-do list, I opened the Presidential PWP tonight when I was going through my folders, and my god, it happened — I'd forgotten it! I read a few paragraphs and decided I need to save the reread for another night when I can read it uninterrupted and take fresh notes on it. Probably should recruit a beta, too.

Another very long standing to-do is the Blackwall fic. I started it in maybe 2015, and worked on it off-and-on for a couple of years alongside a ME Shakarian/Shaeed love triangle (don't at me), trading off between them as the hyperfixations switched back and forth. The Blackwall fic is a true oneshot and has been waiting on an ending for for 6+ years now. It's literally 95% done, and I fucking adore it so much, and just need to Write It, and get that draft out the door (and maybe to a beta? idk, we'll see).

So that gets to the last resolution — this is the one that I know I'll fail in that I won't do it daily; I will miss days. But it's an aspirational goal, and I know firsthand how beneficial writing daily is, even if I only get a few words out of it. It still gets the ol' compost bin in my brain going in the background, churning all those ideas and thoughts into more WIPs.

I've also been thinking about the why. Writing is one of my oldest hobbies, following reading and video games. Returning to the Cyberpunk setting runs the risk of me picking up VP and modding again, newer hobbies that offer faster and more immediate feedback from other fans; hobbies that I know will cut into both my desire to write and my free time. By writing out my... writing resolutions, it will be easier to remember my priorities for the year.

Rat asked about our writing accomplishments in 2024. I answered that I wrote four new characters in two new-to-me fandoms, and that I let myself move from projects as did my interest without guilt. Now, it feels freeing to have four fandoms and a dozen stories to choose between when I want to write, but I will say the color-coded notebooks are getting hard to keep track of.

[day6source]

hello my loves!!! happy october!!!! 🍂🍁🎃👻🧡 personally, october is my favorite month since it's my birthday month (oct 5th, so soon!!), so i'm a bit biased hehe. i do have some small updates for you though, so, let's begin!! 💕💕💕

first: calendar is updated for the month with concert dates and whatnot on the desktop theme! so if you're curious as to when to expect a show, hover over one of the blue marked circles under the calendar tab!

second: the survey was so fun to read the results of!! it was so fun seeing the demographics and seeing what you guys had to say, also so many of you are so funny, i had a bunch of answers that made me laugh out loud. but as for things that'll be going into effect as a result:

- bubble stuff will be updated soon-ish! i have a backlog of things, so it might be a bit. i thought the way i was doing things looked a bit messy but you guys seem to not mind it, so i probably won't be changing the way they're uploaded aside from just not having them be as long and arranging them in two columns instead. - there's a couple interview things i have backlogged as well that'll come out, but maybe not immediately given their length, but they'll be done! if any new ones come out however, those'll take priority. - i've been inconsistent with updating on things like tickets and video calls and the like (mostly bc they keep catching me when i'm asleep, oops), but i'm gonna try and get those up more often if i haven't missed the window, primarily if it has to do with tickets. - things like old content and audios for stuff being uploaded will be sort of at leisure, but mostly because i don't have my own laptop right now! once i'm back with my own, things like that'll be more frequent, but this in particular won't be immediate. - you guys were actually pretty evenly split on fansite photos, so i'm going to hold off on them, BUT! a lot of you liked the idea of being able to find edits here, but i also wanted this to still be mostly news, so i came up with an idea. every wednesday & sunday (all day cst), i'll be reblogging things from #day6source onto the blog (and i'll be adding the tag to the pinned possibly and maybe description for easy access of knowing?). if you post any time during the week, i'll schedule them for those two days regardless. i'm actually pretty excited about this one, and hoping maybe it might mean seeing more content?

and that's pretty much it! i wanna try and get back into the habit of making posts like this again, this year got so crazy! but i hope it's been treating you well and you're all taking care of yourselves. make sure to bundle up (or not if it's hot. don't do that.), and get your halloween costumes ready, and favorite scary movies queued up! and of course as always, make sure you're drinking plenty of water and remembering to eat and stay happy and healthy.

love love love, tay 💕💕💕💕

[fallingforunrealisticromance]

High for love - Sherlock x reader

Request: "Can i request prompt #16 with BBC sherlock please? x"

Prompt: I may or may not be a tiny bit in love with you. Okay maybe a lot in love with you but that's beside the point.

A/N: I am thinking of doing a part two to this if people want? Let me know what you guys think!!

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of drug use.

PART TWO HERE

Word count: 2804.

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

You ran your hands through your hair as you paced back and forth in your boyfriends apartment. You didn’t ant to dump him – well no that’s a lie otherwise you wouldn’t be doing it- but your reasoning didn’t feel valid. But surely it was better to cut it off now, rather than stringing him along the whole time? Before you could debate the subject anymore, the keys jangled in the lock and there he was.

‘hi baby’ He smiled as he dropped his bag, walking over to hug you. ‘’god I’ve missed you, work was hell. Julie, you know the one from the dinner party we went to last week, she didn’t do any of here paperwork so we were backlogged the whole day and it’s just insane-‘’

‘’Tom, can you stop for a second?’’ You blurted out, cutting him off.

You saw his brow flinch in confusion as he stepped back slightly at your tone.

‘’Is everything okay?’’ The genuine concern in his voice pulled at your heart strings.

Tom was perfect, he’s everything you could want in a guy. He was kind, compassionate, funny – he’d had you in tears from laughing so hard more times than you could count. You felt so happy when you were with him and you knew you could tell him anything and he would love you all the same. Yet here you were, about to break this poor man’s heart. And why? All because of some stupid detective you’d fallen for months ago.

‘’I need to talk to you about something’’ Your hands shook as you spoke, which of course Tom noticed.

‘’Hey you’re okay, whatever it is you know you can tell me. I’m here for you.’’ His words weren’t making this any easier.

He reached out to take your hands but the thought of him touching you right now made your stomach turn, guilt consuming you. His expression dropped when you moved away from him, clearly on edge now as well.

‘’Y/N?’’ He questioned.

You couldn’t even look at him, opting to stare at your hands instead. You took a shaky breath trying to compose yourself. ‘This is the right thing to do’ You told yourself.

‘’We need to break up.’’

It felt unreal as those words left your mouth. A heavy pause settled across the room, both of you taking in what had just been said. You glanced up at Tom, expecting him to get angry. Instead he just stared at you, a blank expression on his face.

‘’Tom?’’ you asked tentatively.

He just nodded slowly, processing what he had heard.

‘’Okay. Um, wow I wasn’t excepting that’’ He let out a shocked laugh. ‘’What changed? Did I do something?’’

You stepped towards him slightly. ‘’No, Tom, no. You were-are amazing. Truly. I’ve been so lucky to have you in my life. It’s just-‘’

You didn’t even know how to phrase it.

‘’It’s Sherlock.’’ You spat out, your face burning with shame.

You knew you hadn’t cheated, not physically. But the fact you were in love with another man while being in a relationship somehow felt like a bigger betrayal. And Tom deserved better.

‘’Your in love with him, aren’t you?’’ Tom’s voice broke through your thoughts.

You nodded, not sure what words would help the situation. You were waiting for tom to yell, telling you how awful you were before demanding you to leave. But it never came.

‘’I know you love me. That’s evident. But if I’m not the one your in love with, then I can’t stand in the way of that.’’ His tone was soft, deflated almost.

You looked up at him, seeing the sorrow laced in his eyes. It hurt to see.

‘’I’m sorry. I know it might not mean anything to you, but I truly never wanted to hurt you.’’  You said, keeping your voice low.

It almost felt wrong to break the quiet around the two of you.

‘’I know.’’ Was all he said, before hugging you tightly. The two of your stayed like that, holding each other for a while.

‘’Go and tell him then’’ Tom said, sighing slightly as he pulled away.

You chuckled stiffly at his words before grabbing your bag and heading to his door.

‘’I’ll see you around then’’ He called.

You nodded and walked out the door, a few tears welling in your eyes as you closed it behind you. What had you done? You didn’t even know if sherlock liked you back. There was a huge possibility he didn’t, actually it would be the surprise of the century if he did. Sherlock didn’t do feelings, or romantic relationships. He’s more than cable of it, but as he likes to remind you constantly, it only distracts from his work. As you were thinking this, your phone rang. Speak of the devil.

‘’Hello?’’

‘’Ah, y/n, where are you?’’ Sherlocks voice swum through the speakers.

‘’On the way home, what’s up?’’

‘’Me and john are working on a case, come over would you?’’

‘’Sherlock, I’m tired can I just help you guys out tomorrow?’’ As much as you wanted to tell him how you felt, you were worn thin emotionally right now and did not have the energy to face either him or john.

‘’What’s wrong with you? He asked sharply.

‘’Nothings wrong okay, I just want to go home and rest’’ You sighed, slightly annoyed.

‘’y/n I’ve seen you quite literally collapse from exhaustion due to helping us out before’’

‘’well god forbid I start to look after myself’’ you shot back sarcastically.

‘’No what I’m saying is, you being tired has never been an issue before. So why now? Something must be wrong?’’

You rolled your eyes at his words.

‘’Fine if you must know I just broke up with Tom. Yes I’m fine, no I don’t want to talk about it and no he didn’t do anything wrong. Now can we please talk more tomorrow?’’ You snapped, harsher than intended.

There was a pause on the other line.

‘’Did you hear me?’’

‘’What- sorry yes I got distracted. See you tomorrow’’ Sherlocks words were sharp as he hung up the phone before giving you the chance to respond.

You sighed and pocketed your phone, continuing your journey home.

**************************THE NEXT DAY***********************

You jolted upright, your eyes having no time to focus as your head whipped round searching for the cause of the noise that had disrupted your sleep. Eventually you fumbled around enough to find your phone, clicking the answer button before reading the name of the caller.

‘’What?’’ You said, your voice sounding groggy.

‘’Hello Y/N’’ A familiar voice replied.

But not one you heard often. Something was wrong.

‘’Mycroft?’’ You eyes widened, suddenly alert. ‘’What’s going on? What’s happened?’’

You heard the older Holmes sigh through the phone.

‘’My brother went missing earlier tonight and-‘’

‘’WHAT? Where is he? Is he hurt? Oh my god right I’m coming over-‘’ You scrambled to get out of your bed, dropping the phone in the process.

‘’Shit’’ You threw yourself over the side of the bed to grab it. However, you miscalculated how close you were to the edge and promptly fell off with a rather loud thud as you landed in a crumpled heap next to your phone.

‘’Ow’’ You grumbled before finally picking your phone back up. ‘’Hello? Are you still there?’’

‘’Are you quite alright? That was an awful lot of noise’’ Mycroft asked, sounding more agitated then worried but that didn’t surprise you.

‘’Yep, yes all fine. Now where the hell is sherlock? Shouldn’t you be out looking for him instead of calling me?’’

‘’Well as I was saying before you interrupted me, we’ve already found him. He’s been taken back home and is currently with John.’’ Mycroft continued.

You furrowed your brow in confusion.

‘’Then why are you calling me? You do know it’s literally 3 in the morning. I was sleeping’’ You shuffled on the floor so you could lean back up against your bed, still feeling the tiredness wash over you.

‘’He may be home but he isn’t exactly…well, sober’’ The unease was evident in Mycroft’s tone as he spoke.

Even though he would probably deny it at any turn, he cared for sherlock deeper than he’d ever cared for anything. As did sherlock for Mycroft. They truly wouldn’t be the same without each other, even if they were both too stubborn to admit to it.

‘’What can I do?’’ You said with a sigh.

‘’Go and talk to him. He seems to trust you. Possibly even more than he does john Find out why he’s using again’’

You held your head in your hands. You hated seeing sherlock high. It hurt you to see him resort to such methods. Even if it was for a case. That man was willing to dance with death in order to prove he’s right about something.

‘’Okay’’ You replied reluctantly.

‘’There will be a car outside for you. Update me as soon as you can.’’ And with that, he hung up.

You took a few minutes to compose yourself, before getting up. You decided against getting changed, you figured showing up in some plaid pyjama trousers and the black vest top you’d fallen asleep in would suffice. You grabbed a jacket before slipping on your trainers and heading out of your flat. Sure enough when you got to the lobby of your apartment building, there was a sleek black car waiting to take you to Baker Street.

The whole ride there you were thinking about what to stay. I mean what exactly are you mean to say to someone who’s probably higher than the Eiffel tower right now. Even now as you stood waiting for someone to open the door, you were coming up empty.

‘’Oh y/n hello dear!’' '

’Mrs. Hudson greeted you warmly as she opened the door for you. ‘’Hi Mrs. Hudson. How are you?’’ You smiled at her.

You’d always been rather fond of her. She was endlessly kind towards you, welcoming you with open arms without any hesitation.

‘’I’m good thank you. You haven’t been round in a while. Come in, come in. We don’t need you freezing on the doorstep now do we.’’ She ushered you in closing the door behind you.

‘’No, I know things have been a bit mental at work lately, I’ve been meaning to swing by. I’m sorry it has to be in the middle of the night. I’m sure you don’t appreciate being woken up by all this.’’ You gesture up the stairs as you spoken.

She just shook her head. ‘’Nonsense darling, I don’t mind at all. You’re welcome at any time. As for Sherlock, well all I can say is at least he isn’t shooting my wall to pieces again.’’ She chuckled as she spoke. ‘’You’d better get up there, see if you can talk any sense into him’’

You nodded, looking towards the stairs ‘’Yeah, I guess. I’ll see you in a bit’’ You took a deep breath, before walking upstairs.

Sherlock must have heard you because suddenly you heard his voice calling your name rather excitedly. You went to open his door but he’d clearly got there before you, flinging it open. ‘

’Y/n, you’re here! John look, it’s y/n’’ Sherlock grinned at you, his eyes wide.

‘’Yeah I can see that, I’m not blind’’ john retorted from behind the detective.

‘’Hi’’ You said, chuckling nervously.

‘’You’re bloody amazing you know that?’’ Sherlock said.

You went to reply but were cut off by Sherlocks arms wrapping around you, pulling your body close to his as he rested his head on your shoulder. You let out a gasp as your arms hung awkwardly by your side. What the fuck had he taken? Just as quickly as the hug had begun, it was over as he pulled away from you still smiling. He turned and walked back into his apartment, focusing on some paper work spread out on his desk. You just stood there, a shocked expression smacked across your face.

‘’You okay there?’’ John asked, shaking you slightly. You blinked at him before nodding your head.

‘’What has gotten into him? Well drugs apparently, but he’s never normally this…’’

‘’Happy? Elevated? Fucking insane?’’ john suggested, looking over at the man who was now in a heated discussion with a skull that he kept on the fireplace.

‘’Yeah. I mean usually when he’s been caught high, he’s all grumpy and just curls up in a ball probably hoping we all shut up and leave him alone. But this, this is new’’

‘’are you saying you prefer the moody, short tempered bastard version of these events?’’ John asked raising an eyebrow at you.

You watched Sherlock move around the flat rather erratically, a feeling of discomfort forming a pit in your stomach.

‘’I don’t know yet’’ You replied honestly.

‘Ah y/n, come here’’ Sherlock waved you over to him, where he was now sat back down at his desk.

You shrugged your jacket off walking over to him, leaning against the desk.

‘’You need something?’’ You asked him, folding your arms.

He broke his gaze away from his laptop, looking up at you. His eyes took their time gazing over your figure making you shuffle nervously under his stare.

‘’You truly are beautiful you know.’’ His words sounded so genuine, you were taken a back. ‘’Anyway, I needed to ask you something but I forgot what it was. I’m sure it’ll come back to me’’ And with that, he shrugged and immediately went back to typing away on his laptop.

You just stared down at him. Sherlock never complimented you, or if he did the most you got was a short ‘’well done’’ or ‘’good job’’. He had never commented on your appearance, only ever on your work and he had most certainly never called you beautiful.

‘’AH’’ Sherlock clapped his hands together, making you jump. ‘’that’s what I was going to say, I remember now. It’s not a question mind you.’’ You rolled your eyes, slowly getting more agitated.

‘’What was it then?’’

‘’I may or may not be a tiny bit in love with you. Okay maybe a lot in love with you but that’s besides the point’’

For about the third time that night, you were stunned to silence. What. The. Fuck. There was no way you had just heard him say that.

‘’I need a drink do you want anything?’’ Sherlock asked as he got up and walked to the kitchen.

That’s when reality hit you. He didn’t mean it, he was high. It was just the drugs elevating his mood. He cared for you, you knew that. But now with whatever he’s taken he clearly thinks he loves you But he doesn’t. He’s made it perfectly clear in the past how he feels about love and relationships. Maybe he’d picked up that you had feelings for him and was now using them against you as some kind of joke? It wouldn’t surprise you. You’re heart sank as you faced the reality of the situation.

‘’Fuck you man’’ You mumbled as you moved yourself away from the desk.

‘’What?’’ Sherlock turned to see you with your back to him, standing by the sofa. ‘’Was that to me?’’

‘’Well it sure as shit wasn’t to john’’ You snapped, running your fingers through your hair.

‘’What did I do?’’ Sherlock asked. For the first time this evening, he looked sober. He looked like him again.

‘’You know what you did, you prick. Look it might be all a joke and funny to you now because you decided to go and inject fuck knows what into your body yet again – but the way I feel is not something I’m letting you mess with. Not anymore.’’ You grabbed your jumper, throwing it on before heading to the door.

‘Y/n wait please-‘’

‘’Make sure to tell Mycroft what you took. He wants to know’’ You said before heading down the stairs and rushing out the door, tears slipping down your face.

Your phone rang in your pocket. You knew it was sherlock and you had no interest of talking to him. Not now, or any time soon. First Tom, and now this. You were exhausted and you didn’t want to deal with any men for the foreseeable future. But part of you wondered, what if he’d meant it? Was there any way he truly could love you? You shook your head dismissing your thoughts. No, he wasn’t thinking straight. By the morning he probably won’t even remember what it is he said to you. What a fun conversation that would be. But you would deal with that later. For now all you wanted to do was go home, curl up, fall asleep and forget about the rather handsome detective.