#technically! same continuity AHA

[ilovebeingaturtle]

Adding Lita to 87 is fun in concept but there’s on thing that needs to be remembered upon doing so, and that’s that the 87 turtles do not know how to take care of small children

[a-french-coconut]

Sheer Dumb Luck

It’s not common knowledge, but Camp Half-Blood did have a manual of rules. 

Will Solace considered himself as the sole reader of his generation. He had found it rotting away in a infirmary cabinet, and it had entertained his night shift well enough. 

Though rules might be a strong word for it. They’re more akin to guidelines, to advices one is strongly advised to heed and follow. 

There’s one advice in that unpopular book that had been underlined many times, faded red ink dragged across the yellowish and old paper. 

Wandering alone outside camp’s grounds is strongly not recommended, unless you are a proficient fighter. 

Now, to Will’s defense and honor, the forest surrounding camp is technically considered as “camp’s grounds”.  

At least of section of the forest where they play Capture the Flag, stretching from the creek to Zeus’s Fist, is. 

Surely, the Dangerous North Wood Where Nobody Is Allowed To Go Alone as Chiron had named it when he had given a new, round-shaped face, glowing Will Solace his first tour many years ago counted as camp’s grounds too. 

Forget the fact he was on the other side of the border, and that Will had to sneak out at 3am, in his beloved flip-flops and cargo shorts, and run like a headless chicken as to avoid any kind of attention. 

He had every right to be outside, alone, in the middle of the night, and covered in wet dirt because during his little sprint, he slipped on a puddle of mud. 

A total, one hundred percent, kind of allowed take of those guidelines. 

Will wasn’t a rulebreaker. That was his boyfriend’s motto, not his. 

It wasn’t his fault the best plants for ointments were the hardest to find !  He took his head medic job really seriously, and Apollo forbid he didn’t have those plants just because they were in the dangerous part of the woods. 

A snap echoed somewhere to his right, almost stopping his beating heart. 

Will always had someone checking he never forgot something. First, it was his wonderful mom then his siblings and now that mantle had fallen over Travis. 

So maybe, in his fist unsupervised adventure, he forgot to bring a flashlight. And a weapon. Add to that list a hoodie, because the weather outside camp borders was chilly. 

“Just a squirrel.” He muttered, eyeing nervously the vague direction from where the noise had come. It was pitch black, and only sheer dumb luck prevented him from tripping on invisible roots and uneven ground. “Nothing more than a friendly, squirrel-sized, squirrel.” 

Or a hellhound. His traitorous mind oh so helpfully proposed.

“No, squirrel it is.” Will said firmly, continuing his precarious walk towards the clearing where the plants were. He had a good feeling about where he was going, since the path towards that clearing was littered with holes in the ground, and Will had almost broke his ankle at least twelve times. 

Again, sheer dumb luck was his biggest ally. 

“Come on, I know you’re here somewhere…” He squinted, cursing his eyes for not adjusting to the darkness. They stayed stubbornly blind as bats. Luckily for him, the plants he was looking for happened to be bioluminescent and- “Aha ! There you are !” He exclaimed, spotting the bright dots beaming in the dark. He carefully snipped them and tucked them away in his bag. 

Mission accomplished. 

Now, he just needed to make it back to Camp. 

Which was a super-duper easy task for him. All he had to do was to make the same trip but in reverse. Alas, to his great and uprising horror, there were three paths in front of him, engulfed in darkness. Odds were only one was the right answer, and the other two would take him to some monster den, and make him monster food. 

“Are they edible ?” 

Will isn’t afraid to admit he screamed from the top of his lungs, jumped an impressive record of two feet in the air and almost passed out from the way fear lurched as his heart. 

“What-“ He took a big gulp of air and a moment for himself before continuing, “the actual fuck are you doing here ?” 

“Me ?” Travis Stoll, otherwise known as Boyfriend Who Was Supposed To Be Sleeping Right Now, raised his eyebrows, looking way too calm to Will’s displeasure. Perhaps it was due to the dagger strapped to his mid-section, that Will had not. “You’re the one who sneaked out into the forbidden section of the woods.” Travis took another look at him, and added in flat and disappointed tone. “Unarmed.” 

“It’s not a forbidden section, it’s a Strongly Not Recommended For Unarmed Demigods section.” Will corrected his boyfriend. “And I had a purpose.” He held out his bag, judging it explanatory enough. 

It seemed Travis did not, if his judgmental silence was anything to go by. 

What a tragedy. 

“Plants.” He explained himself further, taking out one for Travis to see. “I need them for the infirmary.” 

“Ah.” Travis simply observed, looking at them with open curiosity. “Are they edible ? You haven’t answered.” 

“No, they’re not.” He answered, thinking about it. “Probably. Actually, I don’t know, I never tried them.” 

Travis reached out for it, seemingly ready to test his theory, and Will was quick to put it back in his bag. “You’re not trying it, Travis. They’re too rare to waste them.” 

“As the doctor commands.” Travis grinned, getting another step closer to Will and sliding his arm around his waist. 

Now, thanks to their proximity, Will could see it. The faint glow of Travis’ eyes, turning the already beautiful blue into shining diamonds. Whereas Will couldn’t see a thing in the dark, Travis was at ease thanks to his night vision. With the super speed, that was one of the handy tricks of being a Hermes kid Will was the most envious about. 

“You know you can glow right ?” Travis whispered in his ear, the smile dancing on his lips as clear as water even if Will couldn’t see it. “Or did you forget that too with your weapon ?” 

Indeed, Will did have that power. 

And with Travis so close to him, holding him and those shining, gleaming eyes, it came as naturally as breathing. 

“Right.” He cleared his throat, now seeing perfectly Travis thanks to the soft glow meaning from his body. There it was, the smile. “I knew that.” 

“Mmmh.” Travis mused, and right there, the golden light illuminating his face, he drew Will’s breath away. There was something wrong with his stomach. Turning, coiling up, with one thought in mind, echoing and tuning out anything else. 

Kiss him. 

He thinks Travis was saying something. He’s isn’t sure. It doesn’t matter, actually, what was Travis doing before Will cupped his face and kissed him. 

Even now, Travis smiles, because Travis wouldn’t be Travis without his ever-present lopsided grin. 

“Will.” His boyfriend breathed, parting away only to whisper his name. They’re still close, enough to feel his breath, to see his lashes flutter. And the eyes, Will could never forget the eyes. Wide black pupils, and those irises. They’re a mix of different shades of blue, each one gleaming a little brighter. “North section. Monsters. Dangerous.” 

“Yeah.” He replied, stealing yet another kiss, even pushing his luck for a third, and his sheer dumb luck was limitless today. “Don’t care.” 

“And you’re supposed to be the reasonable one.” Travis chuckled between the kisses, letting Will guide him against a tree, entangling his hands in his hair. 

Will is the reasonable one. He’s the one reluctant of stealing despite being in the middle of a war and absolutely appalled by the idea of raiding candy stores. 

But well. Travis was the rulebreaker, and he wasn’t an exception. 

“As much as I love where this is going,” Travis said, pressing his forehead against Will’s. “we do need to go back. We’re a beacon for monsters.” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Will sighed, stealing one last short kiss before stepping back, but not letting go of Travis. 

“Come on, I’ll lead you back.” His boyfriend smiled, leading them towards the far-right path. Will had been so sure the middle one was the right one. 

“I know the way back.” Will grumbled, still letting Travis guide him through the dark. He most certainly does not know the way back and thank the gods for his walking GPS human of a boyfriend. 

“Right.” Travis answered, and Will could feel the smirk on his face, that irritably beautiful taunting grin he had been feeling against his lips seconds ago. He kind of wants it back, but he guesses survival comes before making out. “Whatever you say, mon soleil.” 

Will huffed, only amusing Travis further, only now grateful for the darkness hiding the blush spreading on his cheeks. My sun, Travis’ cherished nickname for him since they got together. 

“Shut your mouth.” Will hissed with no heat behind it, earning himself a gleaming gaze and arrogant smile. 

“You sure, mon soleil ? You seem to like it more when I open it wide-” Will cuts him off with his hand over his mouth, glowing and blushing furiously, much to Travis’ delight. 

***

Wandering alone outside camp’s grounds is strongly not recommended, unless you are a proficient fighter. 

Will crossed the rule/advice/guideline and wrote it again, with a bright red ink pen just below. 

Wandering alone outside camp’s grounds is perfectly fine if you have a handsome boyfriend willing to follow you, and some sheer dumb luck on your side. 

I was craving Willvis :3

Btw, "mon soleil" means my sun in French.

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

Lol Ive got an Artoria Pendragon prompt for both saber Artoria and lancer Artoria. Where a previous male master of hers is summoned as a heroic spirit that she has a romantic relationship with that turned into a marriage after she stayed with him as a familiar after the grail war ended. She's constantly spending time with him and having alone time with him leaving the knights of the round confused on who reader are until they finally ask Artoria and she announces that That The newly summoned servant is her spouse and therefore her queen.

I went in a bit of a more... Chaotic direction for this then I intended...

Still, I had a blast writing it!

NOW! YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND!!!

Mordred’s 1000 yard stare bored into the cafeteria wall, coming dangerously close to burning a hole through it.

At the most definitely not round table next to her’s, the knights of the round sans their king were drawing straws to ask Mordred what was wrong.

Now let us all pray for Gawain and thank him for his sacrifice.

Oh, now he was sitting next to Mordred with the same traumatized stare…

Then Lancelot.

Then Bedivere.

Then Tristan.

Then Merlin, who began to laugh his ass off as if he was in on an inside joke.

That left only Gareth, who, upon asking what cursed knowledge caused this, followed them promptly.

That cursed knowledge in question being this.

Mordred heard moans from the king's room, and the king telling the newest Caster of Chaldea “Don’t Stop”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The Knights stealthily watched Artoria and you from across the room, a sense of impending doom hanging over them.

And that sense of impending doom was growing with every second as Artoria began to slowly and very conspicuously scoot closer and closer to you on the couch.

Eventually Artoria was sitting as close to you as she possibly could, a content smile on her face as she began to whisper something to you.

The Knights were quite concerned about this, but there was nothing they could do about it.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Artoria eyed her knights conspicuously watching her as she stealthily slid closer and closer to you with each passing second.

She should probably tell them who you were.

Alternatively, she wanted to keep you to herself as long as she could.

Needless to say, she knew what option she was going with.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

This torture of the knights continued for a month.

Mordred saw Artoria share food with you, nearly killing her from the shock of it on the spot.

Gawain saw the king give you a secret kiss on the lips, causing him to faint dead away.

Lancelot has been into the infirmary for head trauma a concerning amount this month from slamming his own head into walls.

Tristan was mostly normal about all of this. Mostly.

Merlin was laughing his ass off.

Gareth had gone into overdrive with making food and sweets to keep her mind off things.

And Bedivere was really just still traumatized by the implications of what happened.

Eventually this all came to a head when Artoria had her fill of fun and called the knights to assemble.

After that things got… chaotic.

Especially when she explained that, through a surprisingly well thought out powerpoint, you were the Queen and then you popped in to say “So that means I’m your mom now Mordred! Technically at least.”

Mordred kinda… checked out after that…

Slowly things began to fall into place, but a certain flower mage wanted to keep his entertainment going for just a while longer.

So, Merlin being Merlin, asked “So then Artoria, how was it to have your bed warmed by your lover again?”

“What do you mean? We haven’t… wait… wait! Oh! HA! HA AHA AH!” you said before beginning to laugh, leaving the knights confused and Artoria blushing as you laughed while falling to the floor, unable to control yourself.

“T-that wasn’t… intercourse…” Artoria said before muttering something under her breath as you howled with laughter on the floor.

“What was that my king~?” Merlin cooed, a mischievous grin on his face.

This when put together with your laughter and her knight’s confused stares led to the inevitable.

Artoria cracked, and, much to her shame, told them exactly what happened.

“IT WAS THE QUEEN GIVING ME A SHOULDER MASSAGE!!!”

Artoria Lancer, unlike many of her other counterparts, can be rather… mischievous at times.

Not to the same effect as Merlin, but she does take some amusement at others' expense on occasion.

And so when you showed up one day and after all of the hugs, kisses, and crying, Artoria knew just what to do.

She was going to introduce her knights to their queen.

Eventually.

Until then however, well, Artoria was going to ensure her knights were kept on their toes.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

First up was Mordred, and Artoria’s plan for her was simple.

A hickey on the neck, or what looked like one at least.

The reaction, to be expected, was Mordred completely breaking.

Second was Bedivere who showcased similar results after seeing her exiting your room. 

Next up was Gawain where all she had to do was make a few implications to have him clutching at his proverbial pearls.

Lancelot was next, and he was a slightly tougher nut to crack, at least until she gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

Gareth simply received an off-handed comment from Artoria about you being “Someone rather important from her point of view.” This left Gareth confused for a few moments until the dots connected in the way Artoria had predicted.

Tristan was… already in the know… somehow…

 And so, with all her little pieces of chaos sowed, Artoria sat back with you at her side and had some popcorn and a massive buffet of other foods.

However, she eventually ran out of food after… several months.

You were surprised she had that much self control.

You were also surprised when the knights of the round kidnapped you in a very dramatic fashion.

Bag over the head, handcuffs, the whole nine yards.

“WHAT IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH MY FATHER YOU HOMEWRECKING RIDER!!!” a very distressed Mordred shouted as she tore the bag off your head, revealing a room covered wall to wall in bulletin boards filled with pictures, red strings, documents and the other, equally distressed Knights of the round..

It seems Artoria’s little mischief has gone a *Tad* too far…

And now Mordred was shaking clarent in your face…

It is probably time to start talking, fast.

Then the door was blown off its proverbial hinges as Chaldea had sliding doors.

And there stood your one and only, Artoria Lancer, looking very, very irate.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

One quick ass whooping later, the Knights of the round were sitting on the floor, lumps on their heads and looking very ashamed of themselves.

After all, they had just kidnapped the queen…

And that was a whole other can of worms for Mordred…

Nonetheless, the entire charade came to an end, and you were only slightly disappointed the amusing antics Artoria had caused were over.

Simply put, there is no pomp or flashiness when Artoria Alter is involved.

When you are summoned she is going to find you, kiss you, and tell everyone in no uncertain terms, that if they were to even think about touching “Her Berserker” she will use their head as a doorstop and feed their bodies to pigs…

After that, she refuses to elaborate and leaves, you following her closely behind.

This left a very scared Chaldea and a very confused Knights of the round.

This is because of the following.

They had just been threatened by a very, very scary lady.

Artoria Saber Alter had just walked up to someone and claimed ownership of them like a lost puppy.

ARTORIA SABER ALTER JUST KISSED SOMEONE IN A VERY PASSIONATE AND LOVING MANNER!!!

ARTORIA SABER JUST DID SOMETHING IN A LOVING MANNER!!!

So, the Knights immediately set to trying to track you and her down.

This took a lot longer than any of them thought possible seeing as the two of you had simply disappeared into thin air.

Then everyone heard a massive crash from the material storage room…

On that day Guda was to be found in the fetal position upon finding their entire storage of materials having an absolutely massive chunk bitten out of them when Artoria forced you to eat them in order to have you in your “Final Ascension” as Guda dubbed it. She did this because she wanted you in “The right clothes for my queen.”

This left the Knights in shock, however, Artoria simply went off gallivanting with you again instead of clarifying anything.

[blueishspace]

Secret Life if everyone had only one life

Most health losses remain the same as they were accidents: mobs, heights and generally being a little dumb.

Scott never stops Jimmy and Scar from talking as Jimmy has done severely better in this continuity never being out first, maybe he even joins in the conversation for a while before walking off.

With Third Life being completely different Scar never gives Grian the cactus monopoly as that has no significance. Perhaps he gives him sugarcane as Double Life has taken Third Lifes place as the birth of Scarian? Thinking about it Scarian would probably be referred by fandom as Bamboo duo or Panda Duo having been created in Double Life.

Session 1 remains basically the exact same for everything else mostly, same for most of session 2.

Martyn still goes to the Nether and is killed by the piglin, he is the first player out of the game.

Session 3 is where the changes start...

Joel doesn't reroll his task for a hard one as failing would basically mean being extremely close to being out, so he sticks with the deja vu task...which he likely fails as its a task that realistically I can't imagine someone being able to do at all without luck... This means he doesn't die failing the bucket clutch.

Jimmy still dies to the drowned and is out second, the big dogs never happen for obvious reasons. Gem still dies to an enderman while trying to do her task and is the third player out. Lizzie still dies to a skeleton on the water slide and is the fourth player out.

Martyn Isn't there to guess Tango's task so he likely succeeds, he gets 3 hearts and 7 items.

Grian's session 4 task is different as there are no yellows, the same is applied to all tasks that are based on the green-yellow-red life system from here on out, each of them has been slightly changed. In this case he simply needs to convince anyone that singing is his task, which he succeeds. This is easier as it allows for more people to be target but harder since It's harder to be sure you have fooled them without them calling you out as a yellow life...so it evens out. He still joins Cleo and Etho later.

Martyn is also not there to make Scar's life more miserable as he can't cause him to fail, Scar succeeds getting 6 hearts and 4 items.

Etho also never gets his task from Martyns suggestion so aHa Etho never happens.

The same that happened to Grian applies to Skizz, Skizz likely fails either way.

Lizzie is out so she also never makes the paths which means movement across the server is technically more difficult. Also Scotts task is likely failed without Lizzie.

Importantly, without Gem and with everyone having only one life they can't risk the dragon is likely never slain and Bdubs fails his hard task losing 10 hearts.

Without Gem there is also no tower off so no questionable mounder towers, Mumbo never climbs the now Gemless Scotts mountain to judge which is tallest and never falls to his death in the process.

BigB's task is different as stated before, so he probably doesn't betray the heart foundation. No trust issues this time around.

Tango and many others also never lose lifes because there are no red life tasks. Cleo race against Gem is also not a thing which means Cleos task is to simply get people to hand their doors.

Joel can't use Jimmy or Lizzie to target Scott (aka basically two of the few people willing to) so he likely fails his task.

Bdubs is still pushed in the zombie pit by Scar, Mumbo still falls in lava, Skizz still dies to something as his health is extremely low and BigB still dies while fighting the wither. They are fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth out respectively.

With only one life Grian likely doesn't run in front of the wither to press the button, he doesn't die yet... however he does likely have extremely low health so he probably dies against the wither anyway. He's the ninth player out. (Or eight if he dies before BigB)

Scott has the charisma to still complete his task without Gem, so he does. Scott also has 1 heart, he probably dies even without trading his life to Martyn.

Gem is already out of the game, there is no boogeyman/zombie apocalypse in session 7 so ... nobody dies, not even Tango who is never killed by BigB's dog as BigB is out and is later also not killed by the non existant zombie army.

There's also no Angel Jimmy as Grian is out of the game and can't get the task.

At this point in time there are 7 players left in the game: Pearl, Joel, Impulse, Cleo, Etho, Tango and Scar.

Everyone also has very little hearts each as there have been no respawns... Which means when that creeper explodes next to Pearl...she probably doesn't survive it, tenth player out, 6 to go... Knowing Joel erratic behavior gets worse without his teammates he's likely to accidentally kill himself sometimes soon... 5 left.

The last 5: Impulse, Tango, Cleo, Etho and Scar. I can see Impulse and Tango working together... Seeing the weird competition between Scar and Heart foundation I think Tango and Impulse target and kill Scar, 4 left...

Cleo does the nice vs naughty thing, I don't think she gets to kill anyone but I think someone kills them in response... Maybe dogs if she's accidentally punched... 3 left.

With Impulse working with Tango I think they work together to kill Etho putting him in third leaving those two to fight for the win as the finalists... I think Impulse has a higher chance to win...just slightly, the difference isn't that severe, but I think in this case Impulse wins.

The winner of secret life is Saturn.

(Third Life)

(Last Life)

(Double Life)

(Limited Life)

[propenseverbosity]

WIP Wednesday

Aha! Actually on a wednesday this time! We did it boys 😎

(Thank you for the tag @basedonconjecture ^_^ )

Tagging: @ceremorph0sis , @priya-san, @inquisiorastoria, and @himluv (Only if you want to! I realize wednesday is almost over)

This will technically be a part 2 because it's a direct continuation of the wip I posted last week. More Bellara, now featuring Lucanis!

[Part 1]

While it was difficult to determine the passage of time in the constant daylight of their corner of the Fade, Bellara noticed the courtyard was unusually empty for such an early hour. Even Assan, who was normally curled up in his nest, had already gone to sleep in Davrin's room. Had everyone gone to bed early? Sweet smells wafting from the kitchen quickly disproved her theory. As she entered the dining room, she found Lucanis frying up several pans of something delicious. Her stomach growled in anticipation, reminded of how long it had been since she last ate. "Hey, Lucanis." Bellara said, by way of announcing herself— though the assassin had likely already heard her coming. With Spite wreaking havoc on his sleep schedule, Lucanis could be found in the kitchen at almost any hour (unless, of course, he was spending the night with Rook). Cooking seemed to soothe him in the same way writing soothed her. "Bellara," Lucanis nodded, cordially. "Are you hungry? These are almost done." The scent of chocolate and cinnamon emanating from the stove was all the encouragement she needed. "Oh, yes! What are you making?" "Churros." he replied, stirring a small pot of melting chocolate. "They'll just be a minute." It wasn't until Bellara sat down at the table, eagerly waiting before an empty plate, that she remembered the reason for her visit. "Right," she said aloud. "Lucanis, have you seen a journal anywhere in here?" She began to search the room from her chair, but couldn't remember exactly where she'd set the book down. "Brown leather, red-feathered pen attached to it?" "Sorry, not that I've noticed." "That's alright." Bellara assured him. "I'll find it eventually." Once Lucanis finished rolling the churros in a plate of cinnamon-sugar, his finely-tuned gaze quickly glanced around the room to double-check. His resulting expression wasn't as promising as she'd hoped. "Is there anywhere else you had it?" "Well sure, I bring it lots of places when I'm working on it— the story, I mean— or when I let Neve read what I have so far." Suddenly it clicked. Neve had been reading the latest draft.

[gardenoflies4]

Stan Bros Birthday Fic

Okay so technically that's a lie. This is just one of the Ford sections, but I REALLY want to put something out for their birthday and this is the only one that's complete. Also it's my favorite. The whole thing will be posted on AO3 tomorrow (fingers crossed), so stay tuned for that!

Also this is my first time writing Bill, but I really really like him and I think I did a good enough job. Enjoy!

June 15th, 1981

Gravity Falls, Oregon

The lockbody mantis jumped from his grasp just as he was closing in, and Ford growled in frustration, giving chase yet again.

This had been going on for nearly an hour. The damn thing had been unlocking doors in the cabin all day, including the door to his darkroom. The light had fried about 10 pictures of the Abominable Bro-Man, and even though Ford wasn’t particularly fond of the creature, a discovery was a discovery, and now those photos were ruined. As much as Ford wanted to squash the creature, he decided it would be best to put it in a jar to add to his insect collection. At least a jar didn’t have any locks to open.

Ford rounded the corner and found the little insect busy trying to unlock the door to the garage, and without a second to lose, he launched forward. Before the creature had time to react, it was too late, and with a satified “aha!” Ford had it cupped in his hands. The mantis poked insistently at his hands, but Ford was determined, already making a beeline for the kitchen to find a jar.

Ford searched the few cupboards he had left open and the counters. Moving things around and opening cabinets was difficult without any free hands, so he had to do with things that were elbows-reach. As he passed by his kitchen table, his eyes grazed a calendar on the wall, and he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Today was… today was Monday, right? Last week had been his revisit to Crash Site Omega, which was the SECOND week of June, so that meant today was…

June 15th.

It was his birthday.

Ford felt his stomach drop, and something panged deep within his chest.

The date was uncircled. Unlabeled. Just a number, surrounded by other numbers.

Just another date.

This day had felt… odd, since he and Stanley had parted ways. Every year, he was faced with the same dilemma: did he call Stanley or not? He always chose the later, instead going about his day like nothing was wrong even with that weight heavy on his shoulders.

He had spent most his birthdays alone. This wasn’t new. But it still felt strange, to spend a day so precious by society’s standards by himself. Especially when- for him, at least- it was a day to be shared.

Ford shook it off. No, no, none of that. This wasn’t the first birthday he’d spend alone, and it wouldn’t be the last. Today was just a regular day.

He brushed by the calendar, continuing his search.

No jars in the kitchen, but maybe he still had a few lying around his room. Ford swiftly made his way down the hall, shaking the lockbody mantis as it poked him harder, jabbing the edges of its infernal key-arms into his fingers. Ford shouldered the door to his room open only to stop right in his tracks, stumbling back. The mantis took the opportunity to jump from his grasp, racing down the hall and into the darkness. Ford didn’t have the heart or stamina to chase it again.

There, in the middle of the room, was… wait a minute, what was he even looking at? Ford recouped and breached the entrance, stepping tentatively toward the- oh, yup, that’s exactly what he thought it was.

It was a pile of dead rats. In the shape of his name.

About 18 rats, dead as could be, were arranged into the letters of his name. F-O-R-D. Ford leaned down to inspect despite everything in his mind telling him NOT TO GO NEAR THE CREEPY PILE OF RATS THAT SPELLED HIS NAME. He was curious, what could he say?

The rats hadn’t been killed by blunt force. No trap markings, no knife wounds. Not a single drop of blood. Ford hovered a hand over one and found the body still relatively warm, so this had been done recently. But they were definitely dead. Poison, perhaps?

Also, who the devil could have done this?! Ford was fairly certain he would have heard if anyone broke in; there were delicate things all around the house; surely if someone had snuck in, they would have broken something by now.

Then again, that damn mantis had been unlocking doors all day- who knew if one of those doors happened to be the front door? Maybe Ford had made some enemies in town already; the lumberjacks didn’t seem too fond of him, and he was DEFINITELY on bad terms with the local bird watchers.

Ford didn’t want to deal with this. He glanced over at his bed; it wasn’t made by any means, but it looked so INVITING. Today had been a stressful day, and it wasn’t even noon.

Ford got to his feet and side-stepped the rats. Folding his glasses and placing them on the nightstand, he flopped face-first into his pillow, already feeling drowsiness overtake him.

He just needed to skip the day and sleep. He hadn’t done that in a while. If someone wanted to kill him in his sleep, so be it; he was too tired to really care.

...

The familiar nothingness of the dreamscape was unexpected but welcome, and as soon as Ford opened his eyes, he found himself floating in a sea of blues and greens, the space devoid of the mess of notes and equations it usually was. He always expected it to be cold; he anticipated it, even, but the mindscape was devoid of both sunshine and shadow, completely neutral in every way. Ford willed a floor beneath him and it appeared, tiled and grey. As much as his Muse enjoyed floating about, the sensation was still foreign to Ford, and he preferred his feet to be on solid (although illusory) ground.

Speaking of his Muse, Bill suddenly popped into existence before him, eye crinkled in delight.

“Hiya, smart guy! Did you like my present? It wasn’t easy possessing that many raaaats!”

As Bill strung out the world, he spun in a circle around Ford, making the scientist a bit dizzy as his eyes fought to keep track of the little yellow triangle. When Ford leaned a little to one side, head spinning, Bill stopped before him and reached out a tiny black hand, pushing him back up.

Ford held his head, letting those words sink in. Bill had… what?

“Wait, that was… that was you?”

“Sure was!” Bill replied, looking rather pleased with himself. “Animals are always giving each other dead things, I just went the extra mile! Plus, it doubles as a treat if you’re into that sorta thing!”

Ford stared at him for a moment before a laugh escaped him. Bill narrowed his eye before disappearing in a poof, reappearing atop Ford’s head. “Hey, what’s the big idea?! Really, it was hard getting all those rats to your room! I had to keep jumping in and out of their consciousness because they have- ironic, I know- one-track little rat brains!” As Bill was saying this, he grabbed a clump of Ford’s hair in each hand and yanked, not enough to hurt but enough to make Ford lurch back slightly. “Honestly, it’s a miracle I got them into place before they flat-out DIED on me-”

Ford chuckled, waving Bill off. The triangle, surprisingly, released his hair, peeking over his head to stare on with a skeptical look in his eye.

“No, no, my Muse, I do appreciate it. However, I do feel your grasp on human customs is a bit… imprecise.”

Bill rolled his eye, hopping off Ford’s head and floating down in front of him. Ford felt himself lifting, and he looked down in time to see a sofa float up beneath him from god knows where. He caught himself on the plush cushions as he was plopped down, and when he looked back up, Bill was seated across from him, a notebook in one hand and a cartoonishly large pencil in the other.

Bill lifted the end of the pencil to his eye, and small teeth popped out from the eyelids. He chewed on the eraser for a moment before the teeth retracted, and he leaned back (somehow), getting into a more relaxed stance. “Enlighten me.”

Ford cleared his throat, twiddling his thumbs nervously. “Well, uh, I’m probably not the best person to explain, but I will try my best. First off, gifts given are generally chosen for the other person. Things they like, or something useful.”

“But rats ARE useful!” Bill exclaimed. “They don’t have much meat on ‘em, but there’s a lotta protein packed in those bad boys! Plus, you love rats!”

“I don’t love rats, Bill, they’re just everywhere in my house. I’ve been meaning to call an exterminator, actually.”

“Okay, okay, fine. Rats were a bad call, should’ve gone with moths. What else?” Bill clicked the eraser, and the pencil morphed into a pen, still retaining its ridiculous size.

Ford thought for a moment. “Well… I’ve never been particularly good at giving gifts. So sometimes an experience is better. A good time with a few close friends.”

“But you don’t have of those,” Bill stated, completing Ford’s unfinished thought. Ford looked away, face a bit hot. While that was true, it hurt to say aloud.

Ford jumped back as his Muse appeared right before him, cat-like eye taking up his entire field of vision. Bill extended an arm and it wrapped around Ford tight, ensnaring him in his seat. When it finally reached his chest, the hand attached to the end poked his cheek teasingly, like a child.

“But you’ve got me now!” Bill crowed, and Ford couldn’t help but smile.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” he mused, and the arm squeezed him a bit tighter, like a snake would, seemingly pleased.

Bill tilted himself to the side- without a head, a simple head-tilt was impossible- and the mindscape itself seemed to tilt with him, the couch sliding away and falling into the unknown. Ford found himself suspended in the air, still held tight by Bill's serpent-like appendage.

“So rats were a no-go. Good to know! How about I mix you a drink to make it up to you?! It’s called the ‘Myoclonic Jerk’ and it can get you loaded in your sleep. Salvador Dali loved them!”

As Bill said this, he twirled his free hand dramatically and a glass appeared in his hand. Inside was a liquid that looked to have trouble maintaining a color; it switched from purple to neon green to fordtramarine to red. Bill twirled it and mixed the colors together, and a tiny umbrella sprouted at the top along with a bright orange silly straw.

Ford stared at it for a second. It did look enticing, but… it had been a while since he drank. Besides, he didn’t know the real-world logistics of drinking just a single drop of this dream-drink; if it could really get you drunk simply in your sleep, how would it affect you in the real world? He honestly didn’t want to find out.

Ford, as best he could given his restrictions, waved a hand and shook his hand. “Thank you for the offer, my Muse, but no. I’m not much of a drinker.”

Ford suddenly found his world ablur as Bill unwound his arm incredibly fast, sending Ford spinning like a dreidel. He stopped abruptly as a chair was roughly shoved under him, and his back hit the back of the chair so hard it knocked the wind out of him. When he finally came to his senses, he found himself sitting in his usual seat across from Bill, a chess table between them.

Bill used his cane and pushed his first pawn forward. “That’s okay, Sixer. I’ll convince you tomorrow night!”

Ford rolled his eyes, leaning forward and moving his own pawn. “I seriously doubt it.”

Bill laughed, high and loud. “Oh, good one! Hey, wanna hear the statistics for the number of people who die in freak accidents on their birthday?! Cotton candy machines are involved in more than you’d think!”

Ford chuckled, watching as Bill moved his rook. Alright. Different strategy today.

“Oddly, yes. That sounds rather intriguing.”

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias/Trent Alexander Arnold x Reader - Dark Rivarly Part 1/15

Yeah, y'all ain't ready.

Don't even think you're ready cuz you're not.

Part 2 and 3 are already out on my Patreon for FREE!

Reader is Trent Alexander Arnold's twin sister. The two have been inseparable since childbirth, more so now when Reader is fresh out of university looking for a job, crashing at her brother's place whilst doing so. One day Reader gets a job offer that she cannot refuse, however it would mean working for her brother's biggest rival in football, Ruben Dias. 

Enjoy!

"Y/N!"

It was six in the morning and Trent was already shouting.

"Y/N!"

You groaned, grabbing a pillow and smothering it against your ears. His footsteps emerged from down the hall and just like when you were kids, he had no respect for your privacy.

"Y/N, did you take my....."

He yanked the door open to the sight of you pretending to be asleep. He gasped, seeing you wear his Liverpool knee socks.

"I knew it, you fucking..."

Or to you they were knee socks, perfect for sleeping in.

"Hey?"

You twisted in bed, kicking your feet as you were suddenly being attacked.

"Aha. I knew you were bluffing." Trent exclaimed, and continued yanking the socks off your feet. "How about you buy your own clothes rather than stealing mine?"

"Why would I do that when you wear the same size as a girl?"

Trent got the socks off your feet, however your words made his cheeks grow red.

"How about you stop treating my closet like a fucking shopping mall you homeless parasite!" He stormed out of the room to the sound of your laughter. You had definitely struck a nerve.

"Technically, I'm not homeless. I'm job hunting." You said, after getting out of bed, entering the kitchen to make yourself some breakfast. Trent was washing the dishes, using the running water as an excuse to ignore you.

"I promise to be out of here once I get a job."

"And when will that be?" He muttered, shutting off the water. "You can't be job hunting for five years Y/N. How about we call it for what it is."

"Which is?"

His smile was spiteful. "Unemployment."

You pout your lips. "You're very mean whenever you have a game coming up, did you know that?"

He rolled his eyes, setting up the plates to dry. You watched him gather his things, getting ready to leave for the day. His team had a light training session ahead of their game tonight.

"Grandma will be at the train station at twelve." He informed. "Are you picking her up or should I give mom and dad a call, tell them to do it?"

"I'll do it." You nodded.

"Cool thanks."

"In one condition...."

He had turned around, reaching for the door handle. He sighed having to face you again, knowing damn well that whatever was about to come out of your mouth was not going to be to his benefit.

"What?"

"I'm going to need the keys to the Bentley."

"For what? To pick up Granny?"

You shrugged. "Take it or leave it."

Trent muttered under his breath, reaching for the keys in his pocket. It was amusing, seeing him give in so easily. The perks of being two minutes older than him. Technically you were twins, but on paper you were also his big sister.

He tossed you the keys.

"Have a nice day." You smiled.

He ignored you, slamming the door on his way out.

The silence that followed was soothing. Outside the sun was shining and you could simply feel it, the start of a wonderful day.

********************************************

"Grandma please, we're gonna be late. You don't need another Chanel bag."

You had spent all day tending to her needs. When the time came, getting your high maintenance grandmother to the football stadium was nearly impossible.

"You're late." Your patients said, stating the obvious as the two of you arrived at Anfield.

"Well, blame Grandma. She forgot to pack her scarf so we got her a new one, but of course the whole day then turned into a shopping spree."

Grandma was a retired seamstress, who still tended to a few shops where she lived in Manchester. Nevertheless fashion was her passion, some of it having rubbed off on you, however not as much that would make you run late to an inter-city football derby.

"How is Trent doing?" You asked,  searching for him out on the pitch. You spotted him in seconds, enjoying the fact that he looked cooked already. The game had only been running for twenty five minutes.

"Manchester City looks to be a real challenge this year." Your dad said.

"Good." You muttered.

Ever since you were a kid you had the habit of rooting for whichever team that Trent wasn't rooting for, especially if the game was shown on the TV, and his team was losing. Liverpool seemed to be losing big today. Their coach was seen gesticulating vividly on the sidelines, shouting at the players to get their shit together.

"What's he doing?"

At some point a fight broke out and you were grinning at the fact that Trent was involved. They'd usually have him somewhere in the back, playing on the right side of the pitch, during this game however, he was seen running around in the middle getting into more trouble than he should.

"What's he doing, ref!!" Your dad stood up and shouted in protest, along with other fans in the stands. It looked to be some of the City boys giving Trent trouble after a fair but hard tackle that he made on one of the younger players on their team. There was one guy in particular that seemed to be all up in Trent's face, shouting at him, deliberately giving him shit. At one point Trent must have had enough because he ended up shoving the guy, to little effect however because the guy was huge and immovable. Nevertheless, it was all downhill from that, Trent ended up getting booked by the referee and his coach must have decided it would be best to send him off quite early into the second half of the match. It was safe to say that Trent wasn't happy when your family returned home.

"It was that dickhead Dias fault." He snapped, having slammed every door that he had stumbled upon on his way through the house to the living room.

"Please Trent, it's just a game." Your mother said, trying to calm him down.

"Yes but why was I the only one that got sent off? The referee didn't even bother to book any of the City players that came at me. You saw it, didn't you Dad?"

"I saw it son. We all did. It was complete bollocks."

You snorted.

Trent frowned. "What's so funny?"

You shrugged. "I dunno, maybe when you tried shoving that guy but ended up falling back yourself. That was pretty funny."

"Y/N." Your parents sighed. Grandma however, slapped her knee as her head tossed back with her laughter, fueling your own.

"Oh, so this is funny to you?" Trent stood, his expression trembling with rage. "How about I shove you and then let's see who's laughing."

"Trent!"

Your parents held him back, nevertheless you didn't even flinch. Everyone knew that out of the two of you Trent couldn't fight.

"Y/N, apologize to your brother. He's had a rough day." Your mother demanded.

"So? It's a part of life. Sometimes we get booked, sometimes we don't."

"You think you're so funny." Trent said,  through gritted teeth. "Let's see who gets the last laugh."

A jolt of your heart. "You wouldn't."

He smirked. "Mom, Dad, Y/N has been lying to you about her internship in London."

"What do you mean?" They frowned. Even Grandma looked unsure.

"Trent." You warned him.

He ignored you.

"She's been unemployed for five years, crashing on people's couches. Her university friends must have gotten tired of her because she's been living with me for the past three months, eating my food, stealing my socks. She's never even offered to help pay rent.

"You didn't."

Trent was the only person in the room with a smile on his face, your parents on the other hand....

Part 2 and 3 are already out on my Patreon for FREE!

[chaos-has-theories]

Villeneuve Accurate Beauty and the Beast AU (yes this is a phrase nobody else uses but I make up for it in frequency), but for Miraculous Ladybug.

You might say, yeah yeah Marichat, we've seen it, but AHA! It is only TECHNICALLY Marichat. Yes, Adrien is the Beast. Yes, Marinette is just Marinette. But!!! For Villeneuve reasons, their dynamic comes up much more Ladrien than expected.

Adrien hasn't seen his father for years. He's been touring the world, doing shoots and public appearances, all while glued to Lila Rossi.

He is afraid of her.

She's been getting worse and worse as they've been getting more famous, and sometimes it feels like the entire world is wound around her finger, and of course - well, they're not dating. Half the world thinks they are, but they've never confirmed it one wqy or the other.

Until Lila asks him, out of the blue: "When are you going to ask me to marry you?"

She's already planning the specifics, the most media-friendly location for the proposal, and what time of year should the wedding be? And he can't just - he can't just say no, she'll go to the next reporter and tell them she's pregnant, and then his father was going to kill him.

His father.

"I'm sorry," he says. "You know I need permission from my father for things like that."

It's the perfect solution. Adrien hasn't seen his father in years, not even on a video call. He's always too busy. He won't ever be able to ask for permission, and so he can continue as they are: vaguely miserable, but at least with something like a future.

Lila smiles and says, okay!

Three days later they are in Paris.

There are a million interviews to give. "Paris' darling returns home! Keeping up with the Agrestes - is Gabriel releasing a new fashion line?" He's almost glad to have Lila by his side, throughout it. The sight of the old skyline makes him so homesick that it hurts, but she keeps the conversations running smoothly.

It's been years since he's been in the same city as his father. The same country, maybe. He'll do something wrong to embarrass him, and anyway, Lila is so competent. Gabriel will give his blessing, and he'll be chained to her forever.

Gabriel hears the proposal and scoffs. "Marry Adrien? Certainly not. You should be grateful you've been allowed to be the setting to this Diamond for as long you have.

Lila argues. She's the one who turned him into a diamon, she says. Do you think he'd have gotten this far on his own?

Gabriel looks her over, tells her that she's fired, and turns away.

“So it is the beauty of this precious son of yours that makes you so vain,” she told her, “and this is what exposes me to such a scandalous refusal. You believe me an unworthy spouse. Well, then,” she continued, raising her voice to a furious pitch, “after taking such pains to render him charming, I must now crown my own creation, and give you both a new and visible reminder of what you owe me. Go, wretch,” she told me, “and boast that you refused my heart and hand; go and offer them to the woman you find worthier than me.” (Madame de Villeneuve, 'The Young American Girl and Tales at Sea', translated by Aurora Wolfgang)

[alemonyoyo]

No Country for Young Humans - Chapter 5!

Hi guys! Got this chapter out a little earlier than expected. I am going overseas tomorrow, so I assume my upload schedule of every 2 days will get a little slower. Sorry about that.

Also, I would really appreciate any feedback on my writing if you have any. I've found myself a little unhappy with the way I write recently, so any tips to improve are wholly welcome <3!!

This one's a bit more lax than the previous chapter, hope you enjoy!

Missed the previous chapters? Check out the Masterlist!

Words: 2969

Tags: GN Reader, No use of YN, Flirting, Forbidden Romance (????)

Summary: A morning mission with your new trio goes down as well as you could hope for. But a stunning victory is interrupted by some concerning news.

Chapter 5 - The Search: Undertale Yellow OST: 066 The Train Problem

You pressed your back firmly against the wall of the building, feeling the warmth that its bricks held onto seep into the back of your shirt. Peeking your head around the corner you saw that familiar green tint. You still felt Ed’s presence by your side so you turned back to him, giving him a short nod. You both readied your guns, the air dry and crisp, not carrying a single sound with it as you rounded the corner of the building.

“Hands up, Virgil!” You screamed, getting into character. Ed was by your side, his larger pistol, more suited for his huge hands, was pointed directly at your prey.

“This is the last time you get away with stealin’ Mooch’s gold.” Ed’s voice commanded throughout the Wild East, if only you had such confidence. He played the role of the tough guy very well.

Vengeful Virgil, like the vermin that he is, scampered from side to side to get around you two, but was met with the fellow swoop of one of Ace’s cards slicing a shallow cut in his cheek.

“Not so fast, V.” Ace cut in, blocking Virgil’s only way to escape. “We’re not leavin’ till we get what’s ours.” Virgil panicked against the wall, trying to hide his fearful glance under the brim of his hat. But his snout was too long, and his grimace was extremely apparent.

“Y-you don’t understand, Feisty Three.” Well- you supposed that was correct. There were only three of you right now, but the others would be here with backup any minute! 

After agreeing to stay in the Wild East, North Star had given you the highest of privileges; to join the Feisty Five as its newest member! This was to Ed’s dismay as “The Feisty Six” did not have the same ring to it that the alliteration of “The Feisty Five” provided. But alas, you were happy to be a part of whatever game they were playing, title be damned.

“I think we understand just fine.” Ace said, taking a menacing step towards Virgil.

“She- she stole it off a’ me! Mooch stole *my* gold! I was just stealin’ it back!” He squirmed against the wall.

“Aha! So you admit to stealing Mooch’s gold then?” You smirked, the loophole in his words falling carefully into place. This was a confession! You could have him imprisoned! Your first bandit capture while on the team! “I oughta lock you up for just that. But running away from the law, trying to shoot our dearest sheriff? I think you might get *life* in jail!” You hammed up your accent, really getting into character.

“Sounds good to me, rookie.” Ed responded with a nasty smirk.

“Agreed, give him what he deserves.” Ace continued. With that, you pulled out a lasso you had been gifted by Ace, who had stepped you through Lassons 101 for the past couple of days. Virgil squealed pathetically at the sight.

As you readied your throw, you kept in mind all he had taught you. You whirled the lasso around your head, feeling the loop tug and pull against itself. Keeping your hand in position you threw the lasso with all your strength. It soared across the air gracefully, and you watched in awe at your own technical prowess.

“Um.” Virgil responded, watching as your lasso landed in a pathetic heap in front of him,

“That’s okay.” He started as he bundled up the coil of rope and handed it to you, returning to his frightened position against the wall of the building. “You can try again.”

You repeated the same steps in motion, though this time with far less confidence and much more embarrassment. Your loop flopped against the side of the building with a thunk, before tripping on itself and falling to the floor once more.

“No no, you have to twist your wrist! That’s what’ll keep the loop horizontal!” Ace insisted, picking up the rope from the ground. “One more, Virgil.”

You felt your face grow hot. You were lucky North Star wasn’t here to watch this pitiful display. He’d probably still be proud of you nonetheless, but the thought was highly embarrassing.

You held your hand at the base of the loop in the lasso. Swung it round; one, two, before lifting it above your head and allowing the loop to slip from your grasp. It launched forward, nicking itself over Virgil's hat. The lasso lightly fell around his shoulders.

“Okay, okay now pull!!” Ace whispered eagerly. You pulled the lasso taught, and suddenly the menacing Vengeful Virgil was captured! The three of you cheered as Virigil remained still against the building. Face blank and clueless.

“Let’s take this guy to where he’ll be stayin’ the night.” Ed offered.

“Sounds like a plan!”

You walked off happily, Vengeful Virgil in tow.

“Wow, can’t believe you caught him just like that! Those lasson’s are really coming in handy.” Ed gave you a light pat on the back, but due to his strength it felt like a poor-man's heimlich manoeuvre. “I’ve never even captured a bandit with a lasso! My hands are too big to hold those tiny ropes.”

“That’s because you lack class, Ed. A real Cowboy, a *refined* one let’s say, would use the standard traditional methods.” Ace replied, “*I* for one have captured all of my prey with a lasso.” Though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel the smugness of his expression dripping throughout his tone.

“And how many’s that?” You ask, feeling Virgil tug at your rope.

“... Three.” He mumbled. You tried not to giggle, but Ed took charge, his roaring laughter was infectious.

“Seems we all suck at this a little.” You chuckled out, finding all your embarrassment dissipated.

Eventually you made it to the jail in the heart of town. Ed walked up ahead and held the door open for you. Ace walked inside and unlocked the door to one of the two cells the jail held. You stepped inside, a momentary respite from the harsh rays. You pulled the rope to guide Virgil into his cell. It felt like having a dog on a leash. Virgil voluntarily walked into the cell, seemingly forgetting he was supposed to be the struggling criminal, captured by the mighty Feisty Three! You loosened your rope, coiling it up as Ace locked the cage. 

“See you later Vengeful *Vermin*.” Ace spat.

“Ooo good one.” You teased, chuckling at him.

“Oh shush. As if you could do any better, rookie.” You both laughed and left Virgil to rot in his cell for your predicted sentence of a lifetime.

“Good job team!” You congratulated the other two, beaming with the newfound confidence that a successful mission brought. “I think we’ve done some good today. We should find Star and the others and tell them to stop the search! We’ve already caught the bandit right?” The other two nodded, satisfied with the morning’s mission.

North Star, Mooch and Moray had been assigned to patrol the West-most side of the Wild East after Vengeful Virgil had escaped from the clutches of your group. It wouldn’t be too hard to find the three of them. 

You had been a little disappointed at first when you hadn’t been assigned a team with North Star, though he insisted it was necessary, you were sad nonetheless. You liked hanging out with him more than anyone. He’s what made this game of Cowboy truly exciting. Ace and Ed were great, and you were honestly becoming closer to them than you had anticipated this morning, but they didn’t have the capriciousness, the risk, that Star did.

The three of you had barely started walking down the road to the western section of town when you saw the rest of the gang walking back empty-handed. At your appearance, Mooch ran over excitedly,

“Oh, oh! Did you do it? Did you find him?” She scurried along the sand, looking up at the three of you.

“We sure did!” You said triumphantly.

“That’s great to hear!” Said Moray as they approached.

“All thanks to our newest recruit.” Ace butted in. You gave him a thankful nod.

“Oh, gettin’ the hang of the ol’ lasso already, are we sweets?” North Star inquired, catching up with the other two. You prayed that Ed nor Ace would speak of the pathetic display earlier today to save your ego. 

“I- I guess you could say that.” You mumbled, feeling yourself fluster at the other nickname Star had given you.. He was quite relentless with them; “Darlin’”, “Sweets”. All of which were spoken in his delicious accent and you happily drank them up.

“So, did you get my gold back?” Mooch asked. Your stomach dropped.

Shit, you had forgotten Mooch’s gold- The whole reason you were hunting this guy down in the first place! What sort of heroes were you?

The three of you fell silent, your expressions each uniquely blank. Embarrassment filled the silence in the air.

“You forgot, didn’t you.” Mooch responded flatly, highly disappointed.

“Ah, Mooch. You don’t understand. Today's mission wasn’t about gettin’ your gold back it wa-”

“It wasn’t?!” She interjected, stomping a foot down in the sand.

“Well- I- It was about *heart*!” Star tried to pull together some sort of moral, “Our team has stopped Vengeful Virgil from stealin’ from *more* vulnerable pockets. Thanks to your gold pouch, we were tipped off to that.” 

“It was a noble sacrifice, Mooch.” Moray responded from behind them, trying to push the conversation along. You all nodded with a melancholy facade, mourning the loss of Mooch’s most-likely-stolen gold. Her expression scrunched up and she crossed her arms but didn’t say anything.

The group was silent for an awkward moment, before North Star suggested;

“How about we go celebrate this victory of Justice over a round of drinks?” To that, the rest of them cheered, except for Mooch, of course. She remained disgruntled.

You followed the group as they bumbled along the path back to the saloon. Another great morning in the Wild East! And, you had a whole afternoon of adventuring to look forward to! This time as a group, so you wouldn’t be away from Star for too long. 

You were right outside the saloon, the relentless rays of the Dunes pounding down on your skin. The wind washed around your ears, and in the crashing of its waves it carried a small sound. A chant, maybe? Someone was yelling, but for fear or for joy you couldn’t tell.

“Uh, who is that?” Moray pointed out beyond the limits of the town. You all turned your heads to see a tall, blue figure kicking up sand as they ran.

“Martlet-” You let out in an astonished whisper.

“Who?” North Star inquired,

“She’s a friend of mine. From Snowdin.” You reply, confusion littering your tone. You hadn’t seen Martlet since the day of the duel. What was she doing here all of a sudden?

You fumbled down the saloon patio back onto the sand, meeting her halfway. Her run became a tumble as she nearly tripped over her own legs trying to stop herself from crashing into you.

“Oh my gosh!” She squawked out as she screeched to a halt. “They-They’re coming. You have to leave, they’re coming!” Martlet placed two feathered hands on your shoulders and shook you violently as she repeated herself. However, after a day out in the hot “sun”, it had your head spinning. North Star hurries himself across the sand in response to the violent jolting you’re receiving. He steps in between the two of you.

“Hey, hey, stop it!” His yell seems to snap Martlet out of her panicked stupor, she stops shaking. Now she seems frazzled, her eyes whizzing around the Wild East looking for a comfortable place to land that isn’t you or the man giving his all towards intimidating her. Star puffed out his chest, his eyes shooting daggers into Martlet. “I don’t care who you are, you have no right to treat our deputy like that!” He continued. The title of “deputy” rang in your ears like the bell in the centre of town. He hadn’t let *that* slip before.

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.” She started, holding her feathered hands up in defence. “This is just really important!” Martlet insisted, trying to get around North Star to face you. She scrunched up her face in annoyance when he wouldn’t budge.

“It’s okay, Martlet. Anything you can tell me, you can tell him.” You hoped this would placate any worry of hers, but instead it simply seemed to feed further into Star’s confidence, as he flashed a knowing grin to Martlet. Though, there was an evident light blush on his cheeks.

“Ah yes, me and the deputy are as tight as the knot in a lasso!” He crossed his gloved fingers. Martlet crossed her arms.

“Okay, sure. Look- You need to get out of here.” She said, turning to you. Her tone was deathly serious, a far departure from the dorky bird you had known previously. “The Royal Guard got wind of your little “duel” and they’ve decided to do a search of the entire Dunes!” 

“Shit-” You heard Star mumble under his breath. “How long do they have?” He inquired. 

You were too stunned to speak. You had been here for quite a while with no issue, and now you just had to get up and leave! You tried to get out any words but your throat held them back. Too panicked to say anything, you remained paralysed in silence.

“About an hour. I’ve taken a head start but they’re heading over from Hotland.” Your head starts to spiral, it’s getting hard to stand. Your mind is overwhelmed, waterlogged with the idea of your own capture. Possibly the Feisty Five’s capture for treason too- 

You were lucky that your run-in with the Royal Guard went so smoothly. But you got the feeling that the rest of the Royal Guard wouldn’t be as forgiving as Martlet. This was not good- This was horrible. This was the worst thing that could happen! Where could you even go from here?

Something pulled at your hand. Looking down you could see North Star’s hand slip its way into your own. Looking up at him, he gave you a smile. You felt your mind clear itself at the feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours. It was a small gesture, but it was more than enough to ground you to your senses.

“...I think it’d be best for you to head to Waterfall. It’s in the opposite direction to Hotland, and it’s far more cavernous and easy to hide in.” Martlet advised.

“I’ll come with you, sweets.” Star reassured you, his thumb running over your knuckles, “You ain’t never been to Waterfall, have you?”

“No.” You shook your head. Looking back at Martlet who met you with a worried expression. 

“I would love to come with you, but I have to join the search.” She turned away with a pained expression, “I’ll come find you at Waterfall when it’s over, but until then, stay in Waterfall.” She had quite a demanding tone. Perhaps she was more fit for the job of a Royal Guard than she thought.

You sighed, trying to let out all of the worries that fizzled in the base of your stomach, leaving you nauseous.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be like one of our adventures!” Star turned to you, “Exploring new places, hiding from the bad guys!” Though his voice was cheery, his expression was dampened with hesitation.It was clear that he was trying to quell your anxieties, so you attempted meeting him with a grateful smile.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You squeezed his hand.

“I gotta head off now. Good luck!” Martlet said before flapping her wings and setting off, soaring through the sky as if the ground never held her. You wished you had such freedom, to leap from gravity’s clutches at will, escaping from all those who sought you harm. But as soon as the thought crossed your mind, it left, ashamed. You had your freedom on the surface, and you let it go- This was your punishment; getting hunted down like meat.

“You okay, deputy?” Star let go of your hand, instead resting both of his arms on your shoulders. He looked right into your eyes, his gaze analysing every feature of your face, digging for any sort of apprehension. He wouldn’t have to look hard to find it.

“I- No, I’m not okay.” You sigh, “But I will be. I hope.” You look away from his unrelenting gaze, feeling judged.

“Well then, rookie. Pack as much as you can for the both of us and meet me out here in 10. I’m going to alert the others, okay?” You nodded with a huff.

“It’ll be alright, darlin’.” He brushed his knuckles on the side of your face. “I know this is scary. *I’m* scared.” His hand turned to cup your cheek, “But if we lay low, like real bounty hunters, I’m sure it’ll be just fine.” He ran a hand through your hair, brushing it out of your face. He turned and reluctantly walked off towards the saloon.

Fuck, you were scared- But the look he gave you, mixed with the feeling of his fingers against your cheek was a feeling worth fighting for. You turned away from the saloon, heading off to get some supplies.

You weren’t going to let the Royal Guard win.

***

“The locals around here say they haven’t seen anything, boss.”

“Keep trying. We need this soul more than anything, understand?”

“Y-yes.”

“Continue your search. I’m going to make a head start eastward.”

“Rumour says there isn’t much around there. Just an abandoned old town.”

“We’ll see about that.”

[firefly--bright]

peeks and blinders (you know me)

jean kirstein x gender neutral! reader, modern au

summary : being loved required patience and time and hope. luckily, jean provided all of them, without hesitation.

warnings : feelings of being deeply alone, heavy, hurt/comfort but mostly hurt, reader might sort of have depression

a/n : aha. lol. lmao. uhmmm yeah this is incredibly self indulgent and a projection. if you relate to this please PLEASE know that you're a) not alone and also b) I'm here if you ever need anyone to talk to. i wrote this with an unhappy ending in mind but with the poll results (and let's be honest, the aot finale) I decided to make it a happy ending instead. don't worry, everything works out in the end. this fic might just be terrible if you're already sad, so reader discretion is advised! i dont expect anyone to read the whole thing!!! but if you do read it, I hope you like it because I spent way too long on it. the ending might've been a little rushed only because I wanted to get this out as soon as possible so I could move on with a new fic idea ;)

taglist : @mrsnobodynobody @holding-infinity-and-a-book @jeanscremebrulee (side note- thank you for the kind words in my taglist form's criticism/comments question. i truly, deeply appreciate it :) )

masterlist is in pinned post! ✿ requests are open! ✿ likes and reblogs are appreciated! ✿ join my taglist ✿

✿ recommended playlist to listen to while reading ✿

living with someone meant showing yourself, something you weren't afraid of. well, not afraid, more just apprehensive. there was too much of a potential to fucking up a relationship; showing yourself too much in the one place you're allowed to be yourself without restrictions and limitations. you love your friends, you love jean, but sometimes the quietness of being alone was more than welcome because it had to be.

so when jean asked you with eyes that didn't meet your own if you wanted to move in with him, you didn't answer. quiet literally, you paused from eating the slice of pizza in your hand. he continued on with his nervous 'making-up-for-the-lack-of-response' ramble, explaining how you technically already lived together, how he liked finding your toothbrush next to his, and reluctantly admitted that he sometimes used your soap when he wanted to have a good day. a speech that warmed you despite your answer.

because no matter how comfortable you'd be with anyone, sharing the same space with them was a different kind quiet, unrelenting vulnerability. the fact that you existed and let someone percieve you without hinderance was...too much to think about. you had been alone your whole life, not in a pitiable way, but in a way where you didn't have a childhood best friend. you didn't have people stick around, like you were only at a corssroad of people's lives and greeted them with familiarity and comfort that they'd craved, despite your want and desire for it yourself. they'd continue on with their path while you would sit there, patiently, passing time.

jean admitted it to you. indirectly, he had confessed that he wanted to see you vulnerable and bare open in a way that people wouldn't know you normally. in a way where you were simply a locked window that noone had the key to. but there wasn't anything special to hide, no great overview of the city or the sea or rolling hills and valleys and large fields. no, just an unimpressive view of an unmowed backyard. untamed and messy - again, nothing special. just years of neglect while also being looked at. nothing special.

you didn't want him to see it. and technically, he asked you. you stopped spiralling just as he started his own, realising the effect your non verbal answer had on him, you simply said "I'll think about it." and tried to crack jokes along until the end of the night. because if nothing, then jean deserved some peace to balance out the turbulence that came with loving you.

in all honesty, you didn't know what you did. how you comitted the monsterous feat of getting him to love you. how he loved you in your entirety (or lack of it), how he woke up everyday and chose to love you despite everything that you took from him, drawing out his grumbling patience and gentleness because loving you meant waiting. loving you always, somehow, meant not loving you, because there was no way someone would know you, all your stories and opinions and ideas and still choose to love you.

living with you meant knowing your anatomy. not of your physical, breathing body, but the inside of your organs. it meant knowing that your stomach was filled with guilt, that your mouth could only utter whispers of people who once loved you and 'im sorries' to someone who won't know. it meant knowing that your hands were always aching to be held, that your skin was only ever warm when it was loved. it meant knowing that your chest was always heaving, yearning for a breath of relief that would never arrive. it meant knowing that your eyes always wandered off to the weighing scale kept at the back of your closet, always wandered off to find another pair of eyes that would look similar to yours. it meant knowing that your hair was always knotted with the doubts your mouth would never ask. it meant knowing so much about you, about the grey matter in your brain and about what flowed through your veins was nothing but pure doubt and discomfort with the unholy temple that was your body, the temple without a god, the temple that noone went back to. a body without a home.

he wouldn't want to know. he shouldn't want to know, and more importantly, he wouldn't like finding out. it would either be too much or too little, and his fingers would cramp up with the effort it took for him to pry you open, only for no prize to be met with. besides, you were okay just talking to yourself, no matter how insane it sounded. you got through so many years being self-sufficient, right? you didn't know how to handle it, handle someone actually loving you without doubt. you had lived long enough without it. someone loving you was new, something you didn't have a map for, something you didn't have any precautions against.

you and jean slept together that night. in the same bed, breathing the same air, under the same covers. you didn't share the same sleep, however, as his mind made dreams and yours went on like an unfinished painting - a list of unfullfilled answers, no meanings, trying and failing to come together. you found yourself watching him breathe; just his chest moving up and down and up and down, your hands twiching to rest on top of his but you didn't know if that's where they'd belong. if his body would wake itself up because of your touch - everyone was always surprised by how cold your fingers were. you were used to it.

maybe living with him wouldn't be that bad, right? as he said, you already shared the same space to a point where the pair of you felt comfortable enough to not care if your hair was groomed perfectly or if the colours and patterns of your outfit were clashing. but would he like it? would he like just how much more comfortable you could get? just how much you could ask for? just how long you could lock yourself up in the bathroom and try to cry? would he like to know just how long you sometimes spent on your bed, refusing to get up because your heart felt too heavy for your chest? for when your heart felt like it could fall through your back, punch a hole through the ground and bury itself in the earth until it could somehow bonify and fossilize and archeologists would recognise, instantly, that it didn't belong there.

he'd leave. that was something you knew for a fact. your love wouldn't be wasted, ofcourse not, neither would the time, but maybe he'd leave feeling like he'd wasted himself at your expense. or maybe he wouldn't think about you at all.

your night was spent with your brain spiralling - thoughts about how you didn't know how to handle being loved the way he loved you, about how you probably never had a childhood best friend that was still in your life because the phases of your life weren't meant for anyone but yourself to see, about how much your hair fell due to the stress of distracting yourself from overwhelming sadness by studying and creating while also being only slightly average at it. you fell asleep thinking about how the abundance of being alone, to you, meant being not alone at all, because there was no differenciation of company and lonlieness because there hadnt been any company to remind you of the lonliness at all- your eyes had fluttered closed and breathing evened.

jean always wondered if you were hiding something from him. not in a bad way, not in the way where he couldn't say he loves you, but in the way where you'd hesitate. and if he didn't love you as much, he probably wouldn't have even noticed. but fortunately, he did know you. a little too well.

he knew how much you loved the crunchy autumn leaves, so much so that you would alter your paths just to crunch one under your boot, a smile of satisfaction gracing your face after hearing the noise it made. he knew how much your fingers would reach out for his. he knew how much you tried - with everything. he knew of your unsaid struggles, knew when and what made your mood sour. and he loved it, he loved the fact that he knew all of those thing but more importantly, loved that he loved them.

loving you felt like it was a built-in feature.

but despite all of this, he didn't know why. he didn't know why you were the way you were. he knew you tried, but he didn't know why. he knew you struggled, but didn't know why. and it was driving him crazy, especially after last night. he couldn't help himself, even if he could see you, again, trying to diffuse the situation with lighthearted jokes, he couldn't help but think a little too much.

did you not want to? jean had always been honest about how much he struggled with being either too much or too little, about how much the words hurled by his friends when he was young hurt him, about how much his love proved to be uncomfortable and silent and resigned. maybe his honesty was too much for you. maybe you didn't like the burdens he came with, maybe you didn't like knowing how much his father's absence had affected him, or about how much his previous partner altered the way he saw himself to a miserable extent. you hadn't asked for all of this, all of him, all of his parts. maybe you were getting sick of it.

or maybe, if Jean's knowledge about you served right, you were being hesitant again.

he swears he doesn't mind it. you not wanting to move in with him wasn't a problem, but he just wished he knew why. the whole day, the only thing on his mind was how he could feel less hesitant towards him, god, anyone but him. he knew, firsthand, how it felt being so overwhelmed by inconsequencial doubt where he was left with so many regrettable unanswered questions engraved into the palm of his hands because he kept them hidden in his fist for too long, where he wishes, prays, and hopes for an answer that he knows will never arrive even if he doesn't look for it.

there are many things jean wishes and prays and hopes for. you're not one of them. but only because you're here. he doesn't need any other wish to be fulfilled or prayer to be answered or hope to sparkle. you are, inadvertently, all of them. a love without doubt, a wish without a cost, a prayer without a sacrifice, a hope without desperation. you're all of them. you're everything.

but he knows that if he's hesitant this time, if he doesn't reach out to grab you, if he doesn't do something, no matter how desperate, he will most ceratinly feel a deeper regret than he has ever felt before. and yes he may be exxagerating it, but he doesn't care. he'd learnt not to care when he was with you - he's learnt to be comfortable with you and around you. he wants to tell you that it's okay if you don't want to move in with him because his home is wherever you would be, his home is his hand on your thigh, his home is watching you blink in thought, his home is the sound of your footsteps. his home is anywhere with you. you are the only person who has the right to know that.

he makes his familiar way over to your apartment. you're not home yet, sasha informs him with a sleepy voice and messed up hair, "but you can wait in their room." she says because everyone knows that you wouldn't mind him waiting in your room. including him.

he does your routine - the one he's seen you do countless of times when you enter your room - take off his coat and hang it on the back of your door where one of the hooks is kept empty for him, shoulder his bag off and put it down on the spot next to your desk, turn on the desk lamp and the night lamp because you refused to turn the overhead lights on, because "they are so hideous why would I want to turn them on," according to you, and then finally occupy the space on your bed, laying his back down and his hands resting on his stomach as he waited for you.

staring at the cracking paint on the ceiling of your bedroom, jean thinks. from his pending homework that he's mentally figuring out how to schedule to how he's going to conduct this new group project with people he has never talked to before to how is it already the second last year of University because it felt like the first day was yesterday, until finally his thoughts landed on you. of course it would always lead to you.

it started from him thinking about University, then about how he met you on the second day, seeing you in one of his classes, sitting diagonaly across him, how you conducted yourself, slipping your bag off and checking your phone. then it turned to him seeing you at the freshers party where he saw his now ex-partner with someone he knew he shouldve questioned more. how he stormed off of the party with half tears of sadness and half of anger, catching a glimpse of you in the corner of the room, looking kind of lost. he saw you multiple times after that but never talked to you. he saw you at an ice-cream parlor once. he wanted to talk to you, but Connie had loudly confirmed the tickets to this new concert, which took away Jean's attention from you. but then he was introduced to you by Marco, because of course it would be Marco who had the pleasure to befriend amazing people. he met you then, properly, when you introduced yourself, and he nodded at you with little regard.

jean shook his head with a little smile. he had been so stupid, that day. he barely looked in your direction as you got acquainted with Marco, Connie and sasha, but he didn't disregard the fact that you looked less lost than you were at the party.

you had a way of sticking around, jean found out after that. he didn't realise when you had slipped into his life, hiding in plain sight. one night he found himself awake the same time as you and the next, he found himself saving a seat for you in the class you shared with him. soon enough, you knew him as well as he knew you, and there was softness in the recognition your eyes held when they met with his. the same appreciation of his existence, something he hadn't felt before. he couldn't say that he knew you as well as the back of his hand, because really, he knew you like the back of your hand, because he'd looked at your hands more than he'd ever looked at his, noticing all the little creases and scars and veins and hairs. he knew what warmth they held, he'd felt it after your hands made their way into his while walking back to your dorm on a cold night. a night jean would never forget because he had frantically knocked on your door right after leaving you there, because his senses had finally worked and he had finally found out that he wanted to kiss you. and he did, and you kissed back, and jean swore he had never been happier even while he could hear sasha and Connie and Marco cheering for the both of you. he kissed your forehead as a goodnight that night. you were in his shirt.

you were his home before he even knew what his home was, before he could find out for himself. you became an answer with a question.

he sighed, hearing your footsteps make their way through the tiny apartment, saying a small "hi," to sasha who was sleeping on the couch. the door to your room swung open just as jean sat up, his weight resting on his forearms on your mattress. you didn't seem surprised that he was there, just flashing a smile at him before removing your bag and placing it down, and jean felt his heart flutter with comfort as your presence filled the room.

his eyes trailed you as you did the same thing he did a few moments ago, plopping yourself down right next to him. your breathing evened out with his as the two of you lay in silent comfort before jean spoke.

his voice was a low hum. the words were barely different, but you understood them anyway. "yknow you can talk to me about anything, right? even if it's sad or not funny or not...I don't know, not remarkable. you can say it. i won't laugh unless you want me to." he says. it's a flimsy promise, but you know his words hold a meaning that you can't quiet grasp.

his palm lays on top of the back of your hand.

he's warm. scarily so, because why would someone hold so much warmth towards you? more importantly, jean extended his hand without even meaning to, like muscle memory, which was, again, terrifying, because loving you as habitual purpose was scarier than you having to prove yourself for it.

your shoulders relax almost instantly; habitually and with purpose. was the purpose of it to not have a purpose at all? was the meaning of your being to not have any meaning at all? was it just to love despite it?

you wanted to do good. not in a special or overly remarkable way, because you knew you would never reach that mark because you never had, but in the way where you'd be recognized. in crowded rooms, you'd be sought out for because of your "goodness" - be it reliability, comfort, all the things you usually associated with jean. which was ironic, because noone who didn't know him like you did would ever think of jean in that way.

"i.." you say, trailing off. you want to say that you know, but it'd be a lie. it'd be a false promise, and jean didn't need that any more than he needed you. so you say, "I'll keep that in mind."

jean doesn't buy it. his hand squeezes yours, stubbornly. "no, i don't want you to keep that in mind, I want you to want to do it." he says. his head turns towards you, watching the side of your face with an expression you know better than anything. the slight furrow of his brows, slightest scowl on his face that was masked by a layer of genuine concern.

"what I mean is.... you don't have to be so hesitant with me." he says. you want to blink back surprise, except that it's not really surprising. he's seen you, more so than anyone ever has, so it's not surprising that he'd see if one day was affecting you worse than the other days. it makes you want to scream because you don't know how to deal with it.

you close your eyes as if that would help. it wasn't like you were good at running away from affection, mostly because you never needed to. if anything, you were used to running towards it, desperately, just trying. but here it was, now, the resolution of it all, of all of the aches and creakings of your deepest yearnings, yet you couldn't seem to look at it. look at him - at jean, your best friend, someone you'd do anything for - with eyes that matched his.

you sigh. there's a deep silence, and jean isn't anticipating anything. his hand is still on yours and he feels you squeeze it tightly, but he isn't going anywhere for you to hold on to him. even if he wasn't tethered to you, he'd want to stay by your side, without any precautions or promise of a fruitful result. he'd stay with you regardless.

he isn't waiting for you to say anything, because being with you feels more than adequate, like it's instinct, like his shoulders relaxing when it's just the two of you, or like that tingly feeling in his chest when you kiss his cheek after a long day.

but when you do speak, it's with resignation and certain grief. "i dont think you'll like me. if I... if we move in together, I think, realistically, you won't like it."

"how can you be so sure?" he asks. it's not a serious question, but he thinks it's a start. you're doing it, you're being less hesitant, and atleast that's somewhere to begin.

"i just am." you say, shrugging. but it's not a fact, atleast, it shouldn't be. it isn't to jean. he's rolling his eyes now, but he's not annoyed or digusted. "how?" he presses, because he knows there's more, there always had been with you.

"i get too much. and then too little. like none of it is ever just right. and I'm scared that you'll see it and...I don't know, get frustrated at my lack of everything." you say. there's truth in every word even though you desperately wish there wasn't. you're still hesitating, but it's less so. your hand is still in his, still squeezing it. it was predictable - something you found yourself relying on - the warmth of his palm and the way his hand would also engulf yours with the same echoing softness it always had. even if his fingers were calloused and a little rough, it didn't matter. they still held you the same.

he's clinging onto every word you're saying, every small explanation, every twitch of your eyebrows. he knows what's going to come, he knows there's going to be an admission of guilt coming on soon enough but he also knows, more importantly, that he'll be there to tell you that no, he does not regret loving you, and yes, he will keep doing it over and over and over again.

"I've never been... wanted like this. or like anything, I guess. and I'm so scared," you breathe in deeply, keeping your tears at bay. jean pushed himself onto his forearm, looking at you in a way you've never been looked at before. "I'm so scared of disappointing you because I think that's all I've ever done. that's all I know how to do." the box is open now, and it's not forced or pried with effort. jean has always known how to open it, you think, you just didn't let him. he does it now, with the same hands you find comfort in, the same gentleness that his eyes have always held for you.

you're crying. you don't have anything else to add to your statements, and they hang in the air as if waiting for you to complete them, expecting you to do something. but you don't and you can't and jean is holding you, his hands are at your sides and your nose is buried into his shoulder and you think the words and the expectations can wait for now, or for however long jean is willing to take care of you.

your shoulders shake. jean is whispering into your ear, asking you to breathe. he's saying it so kindly that you feel the need to comply, and when your lungs finally calm, he rewards you with a kiss on your forehead.

you think if how much of a liability all of this is. about how much you weigh in emotions when you're this open and vulnerable. not even like an open, unhealing wound, but more like that feeling you get when you finally decide to read an unread text message that had been sitting there for a month, but you're the person who both sent the text and also the one replying to it and also the one who was watching it unfold. you caused this, you were the only one who was replying, and you were also the witness to all of this.

but now jean was here. it was unusal and strange - someone being there, actually, physically and mentally present instead of those placating "you'll get over its" that were repeated to you by the few people you decided to open up to.

the two of you are silent now, only broken up by deep, almost heaving breaths from you, something you wish you would stop doing. instead of you digging your nails into your palms like all the other times, your nails are clinging onto jeans clothes, and he doesn't seem to mind. instead of it being your blankets like all the other times, it was Jean's soft heat wrapped around you, moving with each breath you took until your chest didn't feel as heavy anymore.

"i know." he says, finally. he doesn't expect you to answer, ofcourse, but he knows you're listening because you shift slightly in his arms. "i know...too well, what it's like. i know that moving in means more to you than it means to people in general. i know that it's not even about moving in together. i.." he's being hesitant. finding the right words, but for once, Jean's happy about this trait of his. he's glad he rethinks decisions and the next time when he tries again, he's more sure of it. hes sure that he loves you, hes sure that he wasn't made to love you but he grew into it because there's that choosing again, the fact that yes, he did probably have a choice, but he would never even consider it. he doesn't want to consider it and maybe that's more important than there even being a choice. he wishes he could put it into words that would make sense.

instead, he opts to say, "I am so sorry you had to think all of this all alone for so long. but I'm...I'm here now. i know that won't solve everything instantly, ofcourse it won't, but I will be here until it will. i will wait."

there's promise in his voice, a conviction that you hadn't heard before. you trust him, you always have, but you don't know if you trust yourself with this. you don't trust yourself to be someone he loves. he's quick to quiet your concerns after yet another peck on your forehead.

"but don't you think I take too much?" you ask. its doubtful, the steps you're taking on the usually thick ice that has turned too thin too fast. you're afraid you're going to offend him, but you stand no chance against Jean's all-knowing sigh. it's not a tired sound, not one anyone gives before they're about to give up. you're not sure what kind of sigh it is, but jean doesn't let you figure it out for yourself because he's answering.

the ice turns into concrete. he's become your footing, the reason you're still standing and not under numerous feet of cold water. "i dont think you're taking. your....your love doesn't ask to take. you love despite everything, not because of it. everyone, including me, focuses on how to be loved, on how to be a perfect image that probably won't last for too long, but you..... you focus on shaping your love, the love you give. i dont know if you've noticed it, but you do. you don't take too much, you give without expectations. you give with hope. it's beautiful." he pauses. "you're beautiful." he says. he's not looking anywhere else but your eyes that are welling up with familiar tears.

you suck in a breath. "im not used to sweet words, jean," you say, the breath you held releasing with a bittersweet smile. "i dont know how to handle all of this love you're giving me. i think... i think you love me too much." another tear down your cheek and onto the mattress. jean wipes away it's remnants.

"i dont love you nearly enough." he says with the same laugh you had given him, "but you'll grow into it. just like how you grew into everything else, you'll grow into being loved. i grew into it too," he says. his forehead touches yours. the proximity makes you shiver. "i grew into just how much you love me. and I wanna keep growing into it because I love loving you. i love you loving me, as selfish as it sounds."

you take a moment to register his words. yes, you weren't used to being so vehemently and stubbornly loved and taken care of, but you could. you could get used to it, get used to crying in your beloved's arms, being fed spoonfuls of carefully heated up soup that would settle into your belly, being looked at for more than a split second. you couldn't fathom it now, sure, only because you could've never believed it before, but that could change. you could grow into loving love, into accepting it just as freely as you had given it.

jean wasn't holding you with a death grip because he knew that you wouldn't leave, atleast, he didn'tanymore. he would've done it, he had all the reasons to. if he were still fifeteen, he would've thought that he had to come beg and cling on to love to make it stay. he had to do something spectacular, something entirely not himself in order to prove that he was atleast worth giving a try but with you...he didn't have to beg. he didn't even have to ask. for a while it felt undeserved, all of this care you were giving his somehow beating heart, all of this ointment you were providing to his broken bones, but he somehow, miraculously, grew into it, because he let you in. he let you see him with the eyes that would rival the ones he was sure the gods had, he let you see him and all his unknown and unsaid sins and let you love him anyway because you wanted to, because you didn't see something in him - a potential of something greater - but you saw him as he was. as he is. and nothing in your smile changed. and if you could do that, then he'd be damned if he didn't love you the same.

no words were said after that, only Jean's heartbeat mingling with your own in your ear. both of your eyes were closed, his hands relaxed on your back, your chest no longer heaving, commanding you to pay attention to it.

you fell asleep in the silence of promise.

---

the promise continued even a week later, turning into two, turning into four, wherein jean kept loving you despite and because of, unafraid and unwavering and for the first time, without any hesitance.

you were keeping up on your promise too. trying to accept it - all of this affection, his affection - without hesitance. it was hard but mundane things usually are and you continued to grow and mend and try, above all else, which was more than jean hoped for.

he's passing you the brush he had slathered the perfect amount of toothpaste on, slipping into the comfort of the cool night warmed by the heat of your previously taken shower in your bathroom. you smile at him as a thanks, and he nods as a welcome, and no words are spoken. no words need to be spoken, and his right hand makes its way to the small of your back, his left brushing his teeth as you start brushing yours and you think that maybe everything is uncertain. everything always has been and always will be, and loving someone has always been uncertain, too. being loved has always come with doubt and guilt and shame. but the only difference was that now, both of you hoped. you hoped that everything would be alright in the end, jean hoped that he'd get to share the same bed as you in the end.

hope was flimsy and hopeless, too optimistic, but now it served as something you both shared. the shared sentiment of hoping that you'd have eachother till the end was more important than the uncertainty. it meant that both of you would keep trying. you don't need to be sitting, waiting patiently and hopelessly at the same crossroad now, because Jean's hand is on the small of your back, the watch on his wrist is still and unticking, and you're walking down the same road with the same landmarks and the same gravel because you want to. you've moved from your old spot on the pavement because you want to. you're learning how to love the sound of your own footsteps, how to love the action of one foot infront of the other, and the best part is, Jean's learning too.

loving isn't a reciprocal or a transaction or a grand 'aha!' it's an act of hope. hoping they'll see you the same. hoping they'll have the same hopes as you. hoping they'll want to be loved by you, because hope doesn't require anything grand, hoping doesn't require a god to pray to or a cost to pay. it requires soft, undettered, unsaid patience. something jean, persistently, had. something you, stubbornly, held.

you paused from brushing your teeth to look at your love. you were wearing his old t-shirt that had faint stains of ink and old paint on it, and he was donning the headband you had owned for years to keep his hair out of his face. he glances at you through the mirror, then turns to you, nodding to you, eyebrows arching in a question.

you spit out the toothpaste into the sink. looking back to him, you say, with all the conviction and hope you can muster up, "I want to move in with you."

jeans mouth turns upwards, still full of toothpaste. he doesn't say anything. he doesn't need to say anything.

everything's already been said, already been understood.

because he knows you. and he couldn't be more happier to.

(when you pick the curtains for your new home, you are held up by jean, who's hands grasp the ladder you're on. you're looking down on him after the work is done and he's smiling, and you're smiling, and at night you're using the same stove to make the same dinner that the two of you will share along with some old wine and old stories. he holds you when you fall asleep, and your arms are around his torso as he snores softly. your love is stored in the blood of his veins. his love is stored in the palm of your hands, and even if you don't hold it, it still stays there, unmoving, growing, attached.)

✿

[venaue]

guys guys guys seriously you NEED to read this fic YOU NEED TO.

i will never ever ever recover from this fic i SWEARRR AAAHH

if youve heard of the infinite loops project (i hadn't before reading it but) its !!! that !!! and if u haven't its exactly what it sounds like its a fic where basically twisted wonderland keeps timelooping over and over again due to a like really really higher power called yggdrasill its uh iykyk i dont know so i cant like really explain AHA but

basically yuu and grim are the center of the loops and as they continue more and more characters get included in them

its crack mixed with actual plot and lore its SO GREAT

so far theres 5 (technically 6 according to the end of the recent chapter) people looping (including grim) !!!

anyway yeah its just you should just read it its good i pinky promise

(and if you want a bit more context abt whats going on in the multiverse in relation to 'the thing' (you'll know) you should read this one its by the same author its the same principle but centered around prsk and it has connections to the twst one its srsly so good even if ur not into prsk you can definitely skip to the parts about twst if u want ill have to find exactly where they are at some point) EHE

oh also while im talking abt this author (AngelMyst we love you) you should also read THIS FIC oh its soooo good im so obsessed with it

just . just look at this part of the summary .

ITS SO SILLYYYY I LOVE IT

sorry im yapping im in class and im so bored but too braindead to do anything meaningful (story of my life)

ANYWAY ANYWAY YEAH RAAAAA

[celestialtitania]

reading year in review

ty @bittersweetresilience beloved for the tag. i have gone diving deep into the archives to pull these out (about 140 pages into my history on ao3 to be exact)...so just about every month has around 2 fics. until i did this i had no idea i read THIS MUCH. insanity.

very long post so under the cut

January

#thatjacksonkid by the_german_grim_reaper (Percy Jackson & the Olympians)

Following an episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved, several twitter users do their best to uncover the truth about Percy Jackson. They get surprisingly far.

hilarious. the fic had me in stitches. i love a good outsider pov and esp when it has mortals look into the godly world. it really puts into perspective how crazy their lives are without context.

Internet Friends by limited_edge (My Hero Academia)

All For One, like many other individuals, has non-violent hobbies. Said hobbies result in him trying to troll quirk analyst SmallMight41 online and getting repeatedly (and accidentally) wrecked in the process.

izuku getting the chance to spar with afo, even mentally, is one of the best gifts of fandom. i love seeing izuku winning and afo seething. this fic had me intrigued, in awe, and on tenterhooks the whole time i was reading.

February

Primary Sources (And Historical Epiphanies) by hoover_the_fish (Miraculous Ladybug)

Mary Beauréal hates history, so she's not too jazzed for the history reports and group presentations that Caline Bustier assigns for her class. However, the people in her life have an odd connection to an era her teacher refers to only as, "Ladybug and Chat Noir," a connection that none of them seem to want to remember. "For some reason, there aren’t a whole lot of newspaper articles, but there’s an old blog online that might be worth checking out. As far as I know all the pictures, interviews, the articles that still exist- they all ended up there at some point or another." "Do you know what it's called?" "I believe she named it the Ladyblog."

ive been following this fic for awhile and the MYSTERY has me hooked. this fic is so much more than it seems and it has me so very invested.

fishing in alaska by CaffeinatedFlummadiddle (Percy Jackson & the Olympians)

“This… this would qualify as a mental breakdown, right?” Triton asked, frowning over his shoulder to where Percy was still fuming in the corner. The lady at the counter curiously glanced over before lifting a questioning brow. “My brother – half-brother, technically, I have much better breeding – decided to run away from home to where our father can’t reach him and now he won’t leave. And now I can’t leave unless he leaves,” Triton continued. Percy opened his mouth to object that wasn’t what happened at all, but the tyrant only waved a hand to silence him. “He’s seen war or whatever, so if you could maybe just drug him then I’ll throw him into a suitcase and we can be out of here by the Summer Solstice!” Silence. Finally, the woman cleared her throat and turned to Percy. “I’m guessing he’s the one you want checked into the mental hospital?” She asked. Triton gasped as Percy punched the air in victory. “Aha!” Or Getting in trouble works a little differently when your parent is an all-powerful god. Sometimes you have to escape to the land beyond gods and get your immortal brother turned human to drag you back so you can be exploded a million pieces. You know, normal teenage stuff.

one of my favourite fics of all time, ive read this so many times. So Many Times. ao3 says 37 and i believe it. there is comedy, there is angst, and the emotional beats are to die for. 11/10 would recommend.

Life is A Dream by selenemoon (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

One minute Aang and Appa were fighting a storm, the next Aang was holding a baby. When two soulmates are asleep at the same time they create a dreamscape instead of dreaming. Aang has been sleeping a long time. Long enough to raise five soulmates... (Aang is really tired given how long he's been sleeping.)

love seeing the gaang grow up. really taking a closer look into their childhoods is so fun, and they're so babey but true to character. amazing fic.

March

In A Moment Like This by dreamlittleyo (BBC Merlin)

When Prince Arthur vanishes in the middle of a hunt, replaced by a significantly older—and more kingly—version of himself from the future, the world goes a bit topsy turvy. This really isn't Merlin's fault. But somehow, he needs to fix it anyway.

time travel? magic? shenanigans? you can't get me more hooked.

hidden by glacialdawn (Spy x Family)

"Opayshun Sticks gonna fail?" Anya mumbles, fast asleep. Loid freezes on the spot.

coming from the ml fandom, i love a good reveal fic and man does this deliver.

April

Egg-legant Parents by Ewq1111 (Spy x Family)

The kids have to take care of caterpillars, Damian is more concerned why Anya and Glooman are laughing.

this fic is just pure silly. i love those chapters when the kids are goofing around at eden and this fic is exactly that.

a small world, isn't it? by marzipan_maples (My Hero Academia)

Shouto realises there's never a dull moment when it comes to his boyfriend. OR, alternatively: Two times Midoriya Izuku accidentally met Todoroki Rei and the one time it was on purpose.

this may be a tododeku fic on the surface but its really such a character study on rei at the same time. i just love the interactions between the characters and how well portrayed the todoroki family is in how much they care for each other despite the dysfunction.

May

it runs in the family by cloudyheaven (My Hero Academia)

It takes Nana three seconds of knowing Izuku Midoriya to know Toshinori chose the right successor. Or, sometimes a family can be just you, your emotional support Gran Torino, your #1 hero pseudo-son, your adopted grandson, and your adopted grandson's mother.

found family is my kryptonite. just all the wholesome vibes ever.

it's raining, it's pouring (i need you here 'cause i'm a mess) by bleugris (trivia_cypher) (My Hero Academia)

It's raining and Shouto is exhausted, physically and emotionally. It's been hell the past few weeks and his friend, the one person who can possibly understand, is gone, but when Shouto comes face to face with Midoriya again, he realizes that maybe he isn't the one his friend needs, no matter how much Shouto needs him.

ANGST. PINING. TODODEKU. does it get better than this? i dont think so.

June

room to grow by Mysecretfanmoments (Haikyuu)

Third year Kageyama is considerate, careful, doesn't grab Hinata's hair. Hinata's still trying to figure out how he feels about it.

as the title says, just them growing and developing their relationship together. i fully enjoyed them maturing but still being their silly volleyball obsessed selves.

i've been waiting to smile by themorninglark (Haikyuu)

And he’s calling him Shouyou like they’re old friends already. So, Hinata decides, they must be. (or, The Unlikely Tale of how Hinata Shouyou builds an odd friendship with a super-smart, super-quiet rival setter.)

kenhina my beloved. *and* canon compliant. it fills in all the missing gaps and shows just how they became such good friends despite living so far from each other, just what i needed to be fulfilled, really.

July

A Completely Normal Cooking Show by CoreyWW (Omori)

The dream always ended the same, but the start kept changing. This time, the beginning was Hero on his own cooking show.

chills. literal chills down my spine. this was so intense and well written. a psychological horror piece indeed.

all lights turned off can be turned on by Toasted_Waffles (Fairy Tail)

“Loke…” Lucy whispers. “Is there anything I can do to help you? You seem so…sad.” “Maybe you could distract me from my troubles,” Loke blurts. He follows a sudden impulse, allowing his intense homesickness to guide his voice, “I’m curious. Which spirits do you have contracts with?” or: Ever since Karen died, Loke’s been fading away, mentally and physically. Lucy brings some light back to his life.

nothing like hurt/comfort from the early arcs.

August

monster by FireDragonPhia (Fairy Tail)

Monster. How many times has someone called him that?

a natsu dragneel character study. everyone portrays him as super goofy and silly so its nice to delve into his mind and see the serious stuff going in there.

stars on the water by liketolaugh (Percy Jackson & the Olympians)

"I dunno, I just think it would make a lot of things easier for a lot of people," Percy said to Thalia, when she just stared at him. His cheek rested in his hand, a rare pensive look leaving his eyes distant and unfocused. "Mom has Paul now, so it’ll be easier on her if she doesn’t have to worry about me mucking things up. Dad won’t have to keep threatening war every time Zeus gets his toga twisted. The prophecy’s done, so I won’t be bringing it down on Nico. And no one will have to worry about me blowing up another volcano."

this one. this one was....A Lot. in a good way. it's a percy goes to therapy after the og series fic and it really dives deep into some dark areas. watching percy heal from it was beautifully done. pls check the tags carefully if anyone decides to read this, because you definitely need to be in a good space to read this.

September

Lingering Memory of You by ReaderError72 (Fairy Tail)

Natsu seems to be the only one in Fairy Tail that's aware something is missing. Day: Twelve: "Can you feel me? I'm right here"

nothing like whump for the soul.

October

water into wine by magnuschases (Percy Jackson & the Olympians)

Dionysus accidentally claims Percy. They both take advantage of it. (five times percy was the son of dionysus and one time he was the son of poseidon)

one of The best things to come out of the tv show. i said what i said.

All Roads Lead to Your Grave by nemali (Original Fiction)

this fic was like being hit by pure lightning. you think you know exactly where it's going and it does not go there. drove me insane in the best way possible.

November

dots of stars by Ladykyriaa (Apothecary Diaries)

As he took on a closer look, he realized she looked rather…different, today. Her hair was the same, the usual half ponytail and several strands of hair divided on either side. Her clothes were the usual green robe and brick red skirt. Her freckles was.. Hm?

a bit of a charcter study...or perhaps relationship study. digging beneath the surface and connecting it with the future knowledge is so rewarding to read.

December

Through the Decades...Hour by Hour by TicoryBlues (My Hero Academia)

Against all the odds, through a dozen eras and seven billion people at any given point of time, he had the ill luck of running into Midoriya Izuku. Every. Fucking. Time. Or Immortal Izuku and Time Traveller Katsuki and their non-linear love story

this fic made me whole and broke me apart all over again. and i would read it again. and again. and again.

the love quirk by minimeowngi (My Hero Academia)

For Katsuki and Izuku, their last day of work studies takes a dangerous turn when a villain's quirk alters everything they thought they knew about each other. Katsuki, usually fierce and aloof, wakes up acting uncharacteristically sweet and protective toward Izuku—a behavior that the class can't ignore and Izuku can't explain. While the pros scramble to reverse the quirk's effects, Izuku finds himself caught in a bittersweet dream—watching the person he's always loved shower him with affection, knowing it's not real. As Katsuki's obsession grows, Izuku battles his own emotions, torn between cherishing their fleeting connection and bracing for the inevitable heartbreak when the quirk is undone.

aka the fic i am currently obsessed with. i read every update immediately, as soon as i can. so so SO excited to see where it's going.

phew. that was so many. wow. i def read less in the final few months as i got busy with work, and also concentrated on reading more long fics but still, that was so many fics. at least this way i found some i don't remember and plan to reread hehe. not sure who hasn't been tagged but anyone who feels like it, is free to join!!

[clumsiestgiantess]

Part 9 of the poll story; you arrive at the park.

You pull into the parking lot to the large protected park; Ralyr is practically bouncing with excitement.  Sliding your bag over to him, you motion for him to get in, but he shakes his head.  “I trust you.  Just hide me in a pocket until we get away from the other humans.”  

You smile at him softly and nod; offering him your cupped hands.  He hops in on all fours, curling up and settling in like a little animal.  That is what Ralyr is, after all — a satyrian, technically — but still a little creature.  You hide him by stuffing your hands in your large hoodie pocket.  He wiggles around slightly as he readjusts, but otherwise he stays neatly within your palms.  

It's enthralling; your hair stands on end.  Ralyr's bare chest presses against you — tiny lungs expanding and shrinking against your fingers.  At the same time, little padded paws the size of your fingertips press and shift and settle over your hands.  It almost feels as if you have two seperate creatures in your pocket — one a tiny human, the other a small rat.  Two things held very close together, but not possibly one thing.  Pressing your finger lightly against his back to keep him from being jostled, you can feel the almost perfect cut between his leathery human skin and wiry fur.  

Once you walk out to a trail and step a ways into the woods, you scoop Ralyr out of your pocket and let him off on the ground.  In a split second, he leaps out of your hand and scampers away into the underbrush.  Gone.  

Briefly, you worry that he just ran away from you, but moments later, he comes bursting out of a bush beside you, startling you slightly.  “This is amazing!” he shouts, “Come on!  Let's go find a form!”  He rushes down the path ahead of you, skittering along on four limbs instead of two like he used before.  He's a lot faster now.  “Wait for me!’ you call, rushing after him eagerly.

Both of you slow after a while.  Ralyr trots along beside you.  “I didn’t know you could walk on fours like that,” you tell him, glancing down at his little limbs racing over the trail below.  “Isn't that tiring?”  He chuckles, “Not at all!  In fact, walking on two limbs is more tiring.  However, it is more useful and dexterous to do so.  So, I do.”  Along the trail, Ralyr notices a snake sunbathing on a rock, and spots a fox darting into a hollow — eagerly taking note of each potential option, as well as the benefits that would come with each.  

As you continue on down the trail, you begin to notice something strange.  Up ahead, crossing the path, is a clearing of broken trees.  Once you both come to it, you can see it’s very clearly a trail of sorts, splintered and broken through the forest.  “What..?  Did a storm come through here?” you ask, bewildered.  “You would think,” Ralyr muses, “but it almost looks like something rather large walked through here…  Hold on.”  

The little being steps over to a tree and begins clambering up its side.  “Where are you going?” you ask.  He keeps climbing up, and you instinctively walk beneath the tree with your arms out to catch him if he falls.  “I'm checking to see if-  Aha!  Yep, footprints.  Just as I thought.”  Ralyr scrambles halfway down the tree, then leaps onto your outstretched hands.  As he does, a possum screeches from the same tree, scrambling away thinking it was caught.  Ralyr watches it eagerly, hands twitching, but shakes himself off and turns back to you.  “Thanks!” he says with a cheeky smile, sliding off your arm to the ground below.   You follow him slightly off the trail and he points to a divot in the earth.  It's shape is rounded – almost a perfect circle.  It's unlike any animal track you've seen before.  “I think it might be one of my own kind…” he says in awe, “but why in the world would they choose such a big form?”  Ralyr glances back down the park trail, then back down the broken trail.  “I'm itching to go get myself a new form, but…  It's so rare to find another one of my kind just out in the wild like this.  What do you think we should do?”

A) You think a fox would best suit his new form — fast and agile. “Let’s circle back after you get a new form. How about the fox?”

B) You think a snake would best suit his new form — easily hidden and tricky to catch. “Let’s circle back after you get a new form. How about the snake?”

C) You think a possum would best suit his new form — a similar yet bigger version of what he has now. “Let’s circle back after you get a new form. How about the possum?”

D) You’re curious about the destroyed trail. All these animals would always be here, but another satyrian? “Let’s see where these footprints go. We can get you a new form a bit later.”

[peculiar-potato]

My Art Fight 2024 Stats & Summary!

(This might be really boring but I like numbers and this is my tumblr so too bad)

For starters, here’s my progress on the Art Fight Bingo card, almost blacked the whole thing out! I hit a lot of categories with the same attacks, so to avoid too much repetition I decided to fill in the blocks with attacks I thought fit the brief the best, even if they weren’t the first one to check it off.

A few things of note, compared to previous years:

I had 28 level 1 attacks I needed to revenge (not counting chains). This most direct revenges I had to do so far! (Previous record was 21 in 2021). Essentially a lot more people attacked me first this year!

My attacks to defenses ratio this year (including mass attacks I was included in) was 42.2%. This is my lowest ratio of all the years, and the first time it fell below 50%. I did revenge everyone but I got a lot of attacks back for my mass attack so I technically received more art.

I did 38 attacks, which is my second-lowest amount of attacks (I did 31 in 2018). This was because my mass attack took up a ton of time, and now it just takes me longer to make attacks of the quality I want to.

18 of those attacks were friendly fire, which ties for the most friendly fire attacks in a year (I also did 18 in 2020), but friendly fire overall made up a higher percentage of my total attacks this year.

I had at least one character included in 19 mass attacks, which beat my record of being included in 12 in 2021. (Worth noting that between both 2022 and 2023 I was included in only 8, so I was not used to this many ahah).

This year my mass attack scored 9609.75 points, which absolutely destroyed my previous personal record of 3750.25 in 2021.

That helped my total points scored this year land at 12445.75, which is way more than previous years, my previous record being 7340.75 also in 2021.

In general, my fan characters took my art fight by storm, receiving wayyy more attacks than any of my original characters, which hasn’t happened before! I think a big contributing factor to this was all the mass attacks I was included in, but still, it was really interesting!

This year’s “fan favorite” (character who received the most attacks) was actually a tie between two characters- Twelve and Cyrus, both being included in 12 (aha) attacks each! Gray was a pretty close second being included in 11 attacks.

New/different things I did this year:

A lot more animation! I’ve done tiny bits here and there, but this year I actually fully animated a few attacks (including my mass attack)

Also my giant amv mass attack lol. So much fun but so much work ahah.

A traditional art attack! I’ve never actually submitted a traditional art attack in all my years of art fight despite originally being a traditional artist before I got into digital art in like 2017.

More comics! I did quite a few comics as revenge, (usually as revenge for others’ comics), and those were really fun too.

A lot more character interaction! I included my characters in attacks on other characters more, usually as revenge for people who already drew our characters together. Building off of other attacks and kind of “continuing the story” when I got a coupe comics was really fun.

Bonus doodle reward! Whoever was the first to draw one of my characters for the year got a bonus mini-doodle in my cartoony style of the character of theirs I attacked/revenged with. This was in an effort to try and get more of my characters attacked instead of people just focusing on some of the same ones. I don’t know if it actually made that much of a difference in getting more of my characters attacked, but it was kinda fun. I almost forgot to add the doodles though sometimes ahah. I haven’t decided if I’ll bring that back next year or not

Overall I had a great time! I would say this has been my favorite year of Art Fight so far, beating 2021 which was my old favorite. Only disappointment is not getting to do quite as many attacks as I wanted to due to time constraints- there were a few people I wanted to attack but didn’t get to. In general though, this year was awesome, and I’m sad to see it end. Already cooking up some fun ideas for next fight though!

Here’s a few screenshots from my overcomplicated spreadsheet that break down some of the numbers!

[streetcleanrr]

[img id: a tweet by latif nasser reading "Last January, I noticed something peculiar in my 2yo's bedroom that - after a year of obsessive reporting - led me to a profound cosmic revelation about what's even possible in our universe. a thread" below is an image of a moon.

img 2: all following images are continuations. this one reads "So about a year ago, I was putting my little guy to bed in his crib and I noticed a strange detail on the solar system poster up on his wall ..." below is an image of the poster. it depicts the sun in the middle, and is overall mostly normal, except venus, which has a moon annotated zoozve.

img 3: "Venus had a moon named Zoozve. Huh, I thought. Never heard of that." below is a zoom in of the poster, highlighting venus and zoozve.

img 4: "Put the kid to bed, went back to my room and googled "Does Venus have a moon?" First hit was from NASA: "Venus has no moons." Weird." below are two(2) images of the pages. both are on venus, one seems to be an overview, and the other circles that venus has no moons.

img 5: "Then I googled "Zoozve" and got no results, literally zero results in English. Only results were in Czech and they were about zoos. Not what I was looking for." below are two(2) images. the first is the search results, the second seems to be a promotional image for a czech zoo.

img 6: "I called a friend (@lizlandau) who has worked with NASA for a decade and she confirmed: Venus is completely moonless. And she had definitely never heard of Zoozve" below is an image of assumedly lizlandau shrugging.

img 7: "This started to bug me: why make up a moon on a kids' poster? And why call it Zoozve?! (Best guess: it was a prank and Zoozve was the illustrator's dog's name.)" below is the same zoom in of the poster from image 3.

img 8: "So I called the illustrator, a brit named Alex Foster. (He does have a dog, but it's named Winnie.) He didn't know much about astronomy but swore he didn't make it up. He said he found it on a big list of all the moons online. I believed him, but couldn't find the list." below are two(2) images of seemingly alex foster. the first image shows him next to the poster, and the second image shows him working on an illustration.

img 9: "Around that time, I got a text from Liz at NASA: "Wait Latif I think I figured it out!!!" below is an image of liz pointing excitedly.

img 10: "It wasn't ZOOZVE, it was 2002-VE, which is an actual object near Venus. The illustrator Alex confirmed that he probably misread his own writing. Aha! 2002VE! So what IS 2002VE??" below are two(2) images. the first is a screenshot of the text messages from liz. the second is the zoom in of the poster from image 3. zoozve is crossed out and to the side reads 2002-ve.

img 11: "2002-VE68 (its technical designation) is a giant rock. Imagine a gray pockmarked potato the size of the Eiffel Tower. (We don't have pics of it, but this one is similar.) But the weirder and harder question: is Zoozve (gonna keep calling it Zoozve) a moon of Venus or not?" below is an image of an asteroid.

img 12: "So I tracked down the person who discovered it: Brian Skiff at Lowell Observatory in Arizona. He has discovered so many asteroids that when I talked to him he had no idea what I was talking about, he genuinely didn't remember this one." below are three (3) images. the first is an image of brian skiff. the second is an image of the inside of the observatory. the third is an image of the observatory from outside.

img 13: "He said that he found it as part of the LONEOS project, an industrial-scale asteroid scavenger hunt that Congress during the 90s/00s when everyone was obsessed with what would happen if one hit earth. Sometimes they discovered hundreds of asteroids in a single night." below are three(3) images of book or movie posters related to asteroids.

img 14: "Once Skiff realized Zoozve wasn't a threat, he stopped tracking it. BUT I found 2 astronomers who kept looking: Seppo Mikkola in Finland & Paul Wiegert in Canada. They told me Zoozve is NOT a moon of Venus. But it's also NOT NOT a moon of Venus. It's both and neither. WTH?" below is an image of a scientific paper on zoozve.

img 15: "Turns out basically everything in our solar system orbits ONE thing. Earth orbits the Sun. The Moon orbits the Earth. Etc. If you are a body in the solar system, you hula hoop one bigger thing. That's what you do ... Except for Zoozve." below is an image of a diagram of orbit.

img 16: "Zoozve orbits one thing: the Sun. It spends all day doing that. BUT Venus also has a teeny gravitational toehold on it such that it ALSO ORBITS VENUS AT THE SAME TIME." below is a gif of a man taking off sunglasses.

img 17: "It's a whole new category of thing. Something that orbits a planet and a star at the same time. Something that is not a moon, but also not not a moon. They call it ... a quasi-moon" below is a promotional image on netflix for rebel moon. rebel is crossed out and quasi is above the crossed out text.

img 18: "Astronomers had been speculating that such an object could exist for 100+ years, but this was the first time that anyone saw one ... not only in solar system but in the entire universe!!" below is an image of the universe.

img 19: "But since they found Zoozve they've been finding all sorts of other quasi-moons (aka co-orbital objects) all over the solar system. They ring around the sun, but then seem to do weird patterns around their closest planet" below is a gif of a commercial. it has text saying "but wait, theres more!"

img 20: "Some (called Trojans) stay in one spot ahead of or behind the planet, like a secret service agent. Some do horseshoes: mostly go around a planet but then turn around and go the other way. My favorites do a comma shape, just wiggling back&forth. Those are called tadpoles." below is a gif, assumedly of one of those more unique orbital patterns.

img 21: "And by the way, Earth has at least seven different quasi-moons dancing around us right now!!! The most recent one was discovered in 2023!!!" below are two(2) images of headlines relating to earths own quasi moons and one additional image of one of them.

img 22: "Also quasi-moons can switch planets! We (Earth) were probably the ones who - 7,000 yrs ago - flung Zoozve over to Venus in the first place. Zoozve is going to leave Venus a few millennia from now, but no one knows where it will go." below is an image of a scientific paper related to zoozve's history of moving.

img 23: "Anyway, I think this is so cool because everything else on the solar system map is so regular and orderly, but not quasi-moons! It's like we discovered a bunch of new weirdos who seem to be dancing to the beat of their own drum." below is an image of someone dancing while a crowd looks on unamused.

img 24: "Contrary to the posters, we don't live in a big clockwork, we live in a big dance club, and while some of us are doing the same old waltz with our same old moon, there are bodies do-si-do-ing their way all over the solar system." below is a gif of stars flying around in a dance.

img 25: "How inspiring is it that we are alive at a time when we are just discovering this new class of paradoxical and promiscuous like Zoozve that remind us how weird and temporary and connected everything in the universe is. And how much we still don't know." below are two images of various orbital patterns.

img 26: "One last thing. If you want to hear more about this strange object, check out the latest episode of Radiolab. Tons more there that I haven't mentioned here." below is an embed to the radiolab site.

img 27: "Including my detailed plan to officially rename 2002-VE68 to "ZOOZVE" to immortalize the typo and thus retroactively make the poster in my kid's room correct! This plan falls into the category of so-crazy-it-just-might-work. And we will know the answer VERY soon. END OF THREAD." below is an image of the zoomed in poster. zoozve is crossed out, next to it is 2002-ve, now also crossed out. next to 2002-ve is zoozve again, this time not crossed out.]

thank you for coming to my long ass id. this took me a fucking hour

Zoozve, my beloved

[inhumanresourcesmkg]

Here's to the Greater Good || Prologue (1/2)

For some of you, maintaining professionalism while you wait for further instruction comes naturally. 

For others...

Well, your efforts are seen and appreciated all the same.  Any pleasantries exchanged taper off into an awkward silence, filled only by the ticking of a wall clock.

Eventually, the door to the conference room opens.

Another tall, imposing man-- not quite as tall as the green-haired receptionist you spoke (?) with earlier, but certainly just as broad.  Unlike the receptionist, he bears a wide, cheerful smile.

"Aha!  My trainees!"

Arm lifted in a wave, he regards you all, grin never fading.  He claps once, twice, thrice, before continuing.

"Alright, alright!  You all showed up!"

Why... wouldn't you?

"Oh, this is gonna be a rockstar team, I can feel the energy already.  Love it!"

The joy radiating off of this man, as bleedingly corporate as it is, somehow seems genuine.

"Alrighty, then.  First things first- call me Manny!  I'll be your... manager, technically, but that feels so darn formal, doesn't it??" 

Another laugh, another clap. He glances from name tag to name tag, nodding as he does.

"You can think of me as your personal coach!  I'll be showing you the ropes, guiding you through all the ins and outs and all that!  If you find yourself with any questions, you can ask me!”