#(this has been stewing in the drafts for some time!)

[hungergameshyperfixation]

There are so many things I want to do before (and after) sunrise on the reaping comes out, so here’s a non-exhaustive list.

(Note: I know some of these have probably been done before, so it’s not like I’m trying to copy or steal someone else’s ideas, just that I want to do these on my own. I wrote a whole ass paragraph about it in my drafts but it’s basically just a worry of mine, and I overthink lol)

•Sunrise on the Reaping protagonist speculation.

•^Also, mock up SotR covers. I can see the bird on the cover being a canary or a mockingjay, OR it being purposefully vague.

•Just Sunrise on the Reaping speculation and theorizing in general. Especially because THG could just release the blurb or a confirmation at any moment LMAO

•Thg tier lists.

•The shipping polls—I actually originally planned for that to be a starting off poll for me to follow up and explain MY own personal thoughts on “every” Haymitch ship (I still ‘hardcore’ ship him and “his girl.”

•AU posts. Specifically pre-SotR “AUs.” Like rn I have this idea of exploring concepts if Haymitch’s “girl” was the protagonist of SotR. Or Mr. Everdeen (if the “Maude Ivory is Katniss’s grandma” theory follows true, or if that’s established in an AU, then Mr. Everdeen being the protagonist or a central character might connect the whole family narratively LMAO)

•Fanfiction posts…perhaps.

•Wiress and Beetee. Just them. Anything related to them.

•Sharing fandom related resources. I kinda wanted to make my own wikis at one point, but since the SotR announcement I’ve decided to focus on other projects. But the wiki idea is still in my heart. I wanted to make it personalized, or maybe two versions—one canon compliant/only using canon or confirmed information, and one that’s like my own little personalized information.

•Hunger Games OCs; kinda related to the Fanfiction bullet point but it would be fun to like actually craft a couple of canon compliant OCs. Or non-canon compliant OCs too. But I should probably do that before SotR comes out too💀 I’m just now realizing what a time constraint SotR is putting on me (jk it is literally all self-enforced)

•Book annotating “series.” I’m gonna annotate a thrifted copy of THG, CF, and MJ. I’d like to maybe share or document that process.

•Fanart. Specifically fanart of book-exclusive characters and scenes.

•Cosplay!! I kinda wanna do a Maysilee one and an Effie one, since I’m a lot more femme and I think those would come out well. Ish. Also before we (likely…?) see Maysilee on screen I want to get a chance to depict her while nothing is confirmed.

Etc etc. I feel like there are so many more

[unnatural-happenings]

Of Capes & Billionaires

Took a break from staring at my Persona drafts again to write this instead lol. Would be the first part to this if I decide that finishing the future drafts is worth the time spent away from the Persona fic (ie if I enjoy it)

Fandoms: Batfam x Reader x Avengers

Characters: Damian and Loki. Some of the Batfam and Avengers are here too, but the focus is mostly on them

Notes: Reader is They/Them, Loki is here because I want him to be, Reader is a kid of Bruce Wayne, While this isn't a neglectful!Batfam fic the relationship is still tense atm, for Marvel I try to stick to MCU personalities but a little bit of comic or cartoon quirks might make it in

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Living with Bruce Wayne has always been frustrating. The rules, the expectations, the press, galas, and vigilante nonsense makes for an extremely stressful environment. Adding family drama on top of all that is a surefire way to make you slip away at the nearest convenience.

Your second home with the Avengers is more carefree—less brooding, way less pretending, and always welcomes you back with open arms… and maybe a drink or two. They're your safe haven, and you'd love nothing more to keep it that way.

Unfortunately, your family has never been good at letting secrets stay secrets.

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Damian could not believe this farce you're playing is still ongoing. You continue to vex him even in your absence and make his evening worse.

It had been a long day. School was as dull as usual, the teachers not teaching anything new and his classmates completely vapid, he'd taken care of every one of his pets, already got Grayson to spar with him, the rest of his brothers have vanished, and patrols wouldn't start for another hour.

He was as free as can be and it left him annoyed beyond measure. His go to option for filling up dead time wasn't available—to his complete ire—so he spent time in his room trying to draw while Alfred the cat curled up next to him. Though he could barely focus on what he was actually putting to paper, as his mind kept drifting to the one person responsible for his current lack of activity.

Stewing within his head and staring at a sheet of paper filled with mindless doodles is when his phone buzzes next to him. It's in a familiar rhythm that has him instantly pick it up to check the notification.

Fury is the only acceptable word for what Damian's currently feeling.

His sketchbook is haphazardly thrown onto the bed as he gets up—annoying Alfred—and makes a beeline for the door. He storms through the manor, every step fueled by a deep, aimless frustration as he throws open one of the many entrances to the Batcave.

Everyone's already arrived before him—or it's better to say they were all already there, and all strewn about the place. Though he cares little for their positions when Drake is the only one that can provide any answers.

Damian's eyes dart to the Batcomputer to see what you just posted to your social on one of the bigger screens, and Drake typing away on another. It was a picture of you standing on the snowy peak of mountain—drinking hot chocolate, along with some blonde guy that definitely didn't deserve to stand in your presence.

"Drake."

"I know, I know, I'm already on it."

He stands there and watches as Drake goes through file after file, checking as much surveillance footage as possible and putting the unknown's face through every registry he could think of. By the end, everything comes back negative and he slides downwards in his seat with a groan.

Todd puts down the gun he was cleaning, obviously barely paying attention to what was happening on the screen having resigned himself to lack any expectations.

"Let me guess, nothing again."

Drake runs a hand over his eyes and Damian scoffs when he notices his leg start bouncing, "He still shows no results and they're no longer in that location anymore. This was posted long after they already left… Again."

He can't believe what he's hearing. To have gone this long without finding a single clue leaves Damian doubting Drake's skill altogether.

"I thought you were supposed to be the computer genius of the family. How come you still haven't found a clue as to where our sibling is located?"

Drake lets out a sharp exhale, "We've been through this ten over times now and every search has ended the same. They post the pictures when they're already out of the area, they have location tags and their GPS turned off, despite clearly being all over the world their profile always signs in from Sydney Australia, their email isn't real, they're using a highly encrypted device even Oracle is struggling to deal with, every purchase they make is either in cash or using another persons card, and somehow, not once have they been caught on camera by any surveillance."

He goes on to mutter under his breath, too low for Damian to make out any words, but it further irritates him anyway.

"Are you positive you're even trying? It's not like they're not some elusive figure."

Drake spins in the chair to directly face Damian, his extreme irritation made know at his prodding, "I wouldn't even slack during an investigation for Kite Man, to think I'd do so for any member of our family is insulting. I want to find them as much as you do. It's also necessary to learn how they've been able to avoid detection for so long—"

"Well it sounds like you're only searching because they hurt your ego."

"Are you hearing yourself—"

"Enough."

Their father calls out from the side. He doesn't do anything else other than stand their and stare, but it's enough to instantly silence both of them and keep them from continuing. He gestures with his head towards the screen, and Drake rolls his eyes before spinning back around.

From behind the bat, Jason speaks out while cleaning one of his firearms, "So what? Either he continuously wipes every database in the world, or he doesn't exist?"

Grayson also finally decides to join in with a comment of his own, "Could he be photoshopped at all?"

He walks closer to the screen to get a better look at the man you're posing with in the picture. Cain follows behind him, carefully studying the photo as well, but not adding anything to the conversation as of yet.

Drake sits up in his seat, his anger fading into exhaustion with another sigh, "No." He starts another scan of the blonde's face through a meta/mutant database, "Both options are seemingly impossible, considering they go everywhere together with no evidence of photo tampering. One moment they're on the beaches of Denmark and the next they're skiing in Canada!" He mutters under his breath, "Not to mention they didn't even take enough money to go on all these flights. I have no idea where they're getting the funds for this."

He slumps over again when the results turn up negative, just like every other.

Todd strolls over like he has no care for the outcome, but it only takes looking at his face to see how this is affecting him. His jaw tense as he glares directly at the light-haired man, no doubt trying to burn his appearance into his memory. Damian has also done this himself. but truly, he doesn't think Todd's earned the right to be as mad as he is at your disappearing act, and it makes his own blood boil even more.

"Tch. We wouldn't be going through such troubles in the first place if they took their phone with them. We should not be learning about their location through second hand sources."

That was merely meant to be a statement regarding the inconvenience of their search despite being family, but Todd felt the need to add to it and make it more personal.

"We wouldn't be trying to find them at all if they didn't run off without saying anything, then start hangin' out with a guy we can't track."

"They wouldn't have even left if you all didn't—"

"Are we really doing this now?"

This time, their father doesn't interfere as Damian starts another argument, merely grunt in disapproval. Cain takes one last look at the picture and leaves Grayson's side—who in particular is wondering if he should step in to stop the increasingly violent fight—to walk up to Bruce.

He acknowledges her with a nod and she gets right to he inquiry, "… What about Superman?"

Cain's interjection causes Damian to put a pause on reaching for the nearest batarang to fling past Grayson at Todd. He needs to hear if the Super family has any word on your whereabouts. They should, but if for some reason they know nothing or refuse to help, it shouldn't be to hard to get information out of Jon.

"He refuses to tell me anything, and has made a conscious effort to not report any potential leads to their location in Justice League systems."

Drake turns towards everyone again in the chair, "Conner hasn't said anything either."

Grayson's in the middle of picking up batarangs lying about the cave and putting them in his inner jacket pockets, "They don't want to be found that bad huh…" When he's collected all that he can see he steps in front of Todd—ignoring the hard look he's getting from him, "At least they seem to be doing okay for now."

Todd rolls his eyes and makes his way over to his bike, "Why are we even trying this hard to find them in the first place?"

Damian turns his attention back to Todd with a glare, baffled by the idiocy and his seemingly short-term memory loss. Before he could remind him again that this whole situation is partly his fault, Drake replies

"You were on B's side weren't you? You know why."

Todd looks back towards the group, and for a moment Damian could see how tired he actually was. His shoulders slouched and the bags under his eyes became more prominent, though the frustration at the world—or maybe just towards their father, is still clearly evident.

"I really don't anymore." And just like that he was back to acting indifferent about everything. He hops on his motorcycle and starts the engine, then digs through his bag for his helmet, "Goin' on patrol. Anyone joinin'?"

Already in her suit, Cain is quick to jump on the back of his bike. She accepts the spare helmet Todd hands her without question and swiftly locks it in place as he revs the engine.

Father steps forward, his tone stern as he watches them prepare to leave, "It's not—"

"It's already dark out. Don't start this again, we're still dealing with the consequences of the last one." Jason snaps back. With that, they take off out of the cave without another word.

Grayson leans over Drake to scroll through the rest of your pictures. Multiple of the recent pictures include the very same man that none of them are able to put an identity to. Drake and Damian also scanning each photo they go through, hoping for anything to make sense about the mystery man. In every picture you're happy and don't seem worried about him at all. None of your expressions seem fake either, if only a little exaggerated in some. You act like you've known this guy for years, so why hasn't anyone heard of him before?

Drake runs a hand over his face a d huffs out his next words, "This guy bothers me."

Grayson leans his arm on Drake's shoulder, ignoring his attempts to swat him off, "I know right? He's blonde, that just spells trouble."

"… That's not what I meant at all."

Damian tunes out the chatter from the peanut gallery and turns to his father to inform him on his plans, "I will ask Jon if Kent has informed him of anything, or if they know where they are already."

Drake snorts and lets out a quick 'good luck with that'. Damian has to fight the urge to turn around and insult him for even daring to laugh at his attempts. At least he was still doing something, unlike some of the others.

Then he thinks back on the argument that got you to leave unannounced in the first place and he changes his mind. Half of this family isn't good enough to go searching for you anyway. He's sure if you spotted them, you'd make sure you're never found again. All this over something so idiotic.

Whatever. Once he finds you he'll make sure something so asinine won't happen again, so you won't have to feel like you need to escape again. He'll beat it into everyone's head over and over to never look down on you again if it meant you'd tell him what's going on.

Maybe he should deal with that unknown with you as well. Whoever he is, he's way beneath you, and you shouldn't be giving your time to him at all. What would make you stoop so low as to hangout with random civilians over your own family?

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"I swear to God if you throw that blue shell—"

"Too late."

You can do nothing but curse as your position is threatened. All you have is a green shell with a single coin in your back pocket, with no item boxes nearby to try for a boombox. Within seconds you're screaming as the blue shell reaches you and blows you into oblivion. You watch the entire race pass you while waiting for your kart to stop spinning out, ignoring the cheering from the God of Thunder and the victory lap the archer is currently doing around the room. By the time you can drive forward you have no hope of catching up to the front of the pack with no items and no coins, and come in 7th place. You fall off the couch to kneel on the floor, muttering about how you've disgraced your entire linage.

Natasha nudges your back foot from her position on the couch. She doesn't look up from the book she's reading, but obviously is addressing you with her next words.

"You still won the grand prix. Clint isn't even close, and Thor wasn't really competition to begin with."

You shake your head and lean back onto your knees, "You don't understand Nat. Every loss is a severe scar on my record. A stain. Something to be held over my head for years to come. I need to make up for this failure by setting the new world record on the track I've let best me in a moment of weakness."

That's when she looks up from the book she's reading, her brow quirked, not even trying to hide her amusement at your misfortune, "Aren't you already the world record holder?"

"It's obviously not good enough."

"You only lost because of a blue shell."

Suddenly you're being lifted off the floor. Extremely muscular arms wrap around your middle and pull you into a toned chest. Along with the deep laughter coming from the man behind you, and noticing the missing God of Thunder on the couch, you're easily able to identify Thor's the one to pick you up.

"You did splendid! You're mastery has indeed improved since we last versed one another, as have mine! Though Barton…"

Both of you bring your attention back to the archer to see he's still doing victory laps around the room.

"'Twas but a cheap trick. I assure you his proficiency is far below yours."

"A cheap trick means nothing. I still lost, and to him."

Thor only responds with more laughter.

Clint finally stops his self congratulatory dance to… correct your very wrong opinion of him, "Hey, that was not cheap! I worked hard to drive that Blue Shell to the front of the race!"

You wiggle until Thor puts you down, not wanting to argue held in his arms, "You're bagging tactics are cheap and lame!"

"Bagging requires skill—Wait you were bagging our last race! Why are you getting mad at me!?"

Suddenly a book slams closed, cutting off your oncoming rebuttal and drawing everyone's attention to the corner of the room. Another god sits in the corner, his displeasure made evident through the scowl resting on his face and the closed book on his lap. He stands with a level of grace only a spoon fed, self righteous royal could attain, causing you to grumble under your breath—assuming he's only acting this extra because he either wants something, or is planning something.

He shoots you a glare before addressing everyone in the room, his voice underlined with irritation, "You lot are trying my patience with your incessant howling. Attempting to put up with this noise any longer may cause severe damage to my own sanity."

You're heart sinks a little as he makes his way to leave, but on his way past he grabs the back of your clothes and drags you with him without a second thought.

"H-HEY! LOKI WAIT! THE GAME!"

The others do nothing to help you, all used to you acting as the mischief maker's shadow, whether willing or not. You make sure to flip them off before you turn the corner, seeing Natasha shrug and go back to her own book and Thor wave with one of the largest smiles you've seen on him. Clint only laughs at your predicament, so you mentally note to make him your target the next time you play a party game.

Once you're far enough away and Loki has slid his hand from the back of your clothes to your wrist do you speak up.

"You could just ask me to walk with you y'know?"

"So you wouldn't have thrown yourself to further rot away by the hands of that game to accomplish some arbitrary award that grants you nothing but bragging rights?"

"… No?"

"Don't lie to me."

You don't respond, and it's silent as you let Loki take you to wherever he's going. Soon enough you find yourself in front of your bedroom, Loki letting go of you and easily phasing through the door. With a roll of your eyes and complaints under your breath you follow after him.

He's already taken a seat on the egg chair you have next to the bookshelf and opened his book. You huff before looking around for things to do. There isn't much in the room, you never stayed long enough to bother personalizing it, but you do spot the Gamecube Tony bought for you as a joke. He was getting tired of you not doing anything, so he got that and a shelf full of games—said he was buying you a personality.

"Do not tell me you're still going to play that aggravating racing game?"

You continue to set up the console as you reply to him, "It's only aggravating when I'm playing with Clint, and is the one thing I have over Tim, so I gotta make sure I stay better then him." You look over to him and see he's still got his head in his book, "And you're reading! what else do you want me to do!"

Loki ignores most of what you said, only focusing on one thing, "If you are that keen on thinking about your family through every action then why are you still here? I thought you hated them."

"I just need time away." You sigh as you're thoughts drift a little more to the rest of your family, "That house is suffocating, but that doesn't mean I love them less. They're just being annoying."

A laugh escapes you when you think about how annoyed some of them must be right now due to your recent stunt, "That, and it's really funny being petty."

Loki let's it go as he chuckles himself, "Speaking of being petty, where's our next photoshoot? I'm sure they enjoyed seeing our last in the mountains."

You laugh more freely now as you bring your attention back to the game, pushing aside the more troublesome thoughts, "I heard Tony owns a private beach house. I'm sure he wouldn't mind us dropping by for a couple pictures."

[aviiarie]

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ SUBSTITUTE BIG BROTHER. platonic pm!dazai & reader !

synopsis. dazai is reduced to his lowest form: babysitter for chuuya's sibling. contents. PLATONIC. chuuya's younger sibling!reader. gn!reader. they/them pronouns used. fluff. 1.9k words. notes. dazai gets some fluff, as a treat. and as an apology for the amount of pain i am putting him through with the next thing in my drafts. ALSO this is an old, completed draft and was my first time writing dazai so apologies for any mischaracterization.

“You’re kidding me.” Dazai said dryly, staring at the kid before him. They met his gaze with a fiery glare, daring him to continue.

“Do you have something to say?” they snapped. Dazai raised an eyebrow. “Go on, spit it out.”

“I’m only wondering how that yappy little dog’s precious sibling managed to escape their kennel,” Dazai hummed, the corner of his mouth ticking upwards as they began to protest. They sounded just as furious as their brother; the resemblance amused him immensely. “Aren’t you supposed to be… anywhere but here?”

The question was out of courtesy more than anything; Dazai knew the answer very well. Chuuya was tight-lipped about almost every aspect of his life that wasn’t intertwined with the Port Mafia, but his sibling was one detail that Dazai had managed to squeeze out. It wasn’t voluntary, mind you. It was more that Chuuya was explaining his life before the Mafia to Kouyou during one of their evenings drinking tea together, and Dazai had started eavesdropping at the right moment.

When he casually dropped their name during a conversation a week later, Chuuya has gone still for only a moment, before shoving him against the nearest wall and holding a knife to his throat.

“How the fuck do you know about them?” Chuuya had hissed.

Dazai wheezed, for once caught off guard. He’d been expecting Chuuya to react emotionally, but the idea that he would resort to murder within seconds had somehow slipped his mind. “Perhaps Chuuya shouldn’t leave the door open if he doesn’t want his conversations being overheard. I’m sure Ane-san would agree, it was her conversation too.”

Chuuya turned white. His grip loosened, and Dazai slipped away from his grasp. “Shit.”

“Mhm!” Dazai said in a singsong voice, readjusting his collar. “So, tell me about them. How old are they?”

“I’m not talking to you about them, you bastard.” Chuuya tucked his knife away, shoving past Dazai with far more force than was necessary.

“Oh, come on,” Dazai whined childishly, but there was a dark glint in his eyes. “Would you prefer to talk to Boss about them?”

Chuuya’s face turned the prettiest shade of red. “You wouldn’t dare—”

“Of course, Chuuya wouldn’t keep such a key detail of his life hidden away for no reason.” Dazai interrupted. “And maybe I could find it in myself to omit said detail when the Boss questions me about where he’s been disappearing to, for a price, of course—”

“You’re a real piece of shit, you know that?” Chuuya scoffed. “Fine. I’ll owe you a favour, and in exchange you do not breathe a word of their existence to anyone. They don’t exist to you, got it?”

Even when trying to appear confident, there was still a note of anxiety in his tone. The mere mention of his sibling was enough to rattle him, it seemed. Dazai paused for a moment, letting Chuuya stew in his restlessness.

“Well? Do we have a deal, asshole?”

He agreed. He wouldn’t tell a soul about [Name], and Chuuya would postpone smothering him in his sleep until he had reasonable cause. Their little secret, Dazai called it—as if anything could stay secret from the Boss for long.

One of the prerequisites for making sure the Port Mafia never knew of their existence, was ensuring that they took careful steps to prevent contact with members of said Port Mafia. An easy way for that to be guaranteed was to avoid any and all places associated with the Mafia, to minimise the chances of bumping into any unsavoury types that might consider their relation to Chuuya to be a weakness to exploit.

All this to say: the last place they should be was right in the middle of Port Mafia territory.

Dazai sighed. “Chuuya will be mad that you’re here, you know.”

“Who even are you?” they asked, in lieu of an answer.

“I’m hurt!” he gasped, grasping at the front of his shirt like a Victorian woman clutching her pearls. “Is Chuuya so cruel that he never mentions his own partner?”

“Are you Dazai?” they asked, wrinkling their nose at him. “Chuuya won’t shut up about you. He thinks you’re really annoying.”

“Oh, the feeling is mutual.” He laughed. “What else does he say about me? Does he tell you about how I can shoot a gun better than he ever will? How one touch from me renders his ability useless? How I’ve beat him in every round of arcade games we have ever played together?”

“He actually said you were big-headed, but I think I could have gathered that myself.” They said dryly.

“Tch. Such a mean dog, spreading lies about me.” Dazai complained, but his mind was elsewhere. He eyed the rumpled state of their clothes and dark circles around their eyes. If they were desperate enough to ignore their brother’s warning to keep away while he was working, the matter must be urgent, and Dazai knew Chuuya would bite his head off if he left them alone in such a dangerous place.

“Why don’t we wait for your brother somewhere nicer than here?” Dazai suggested. “I know a place that isn’t too far, that we both frequent.”

“Am I being kidnapped?” They asked warily.

“Why would I want to kidnap someone as unpleasant as you?” Dazai scrunched his nose up at the thought. “Besides, I’m supposed to be helping keep your existence on the downlow. That becomes difficult if everyone in the Port Mafia catches wind of a strange young person asking for Chuuya.”

“They won’t,” they said, but their voice was doubtful.

Dazai turned, tucking his hands in his pockets and walking back the way he’d come. “Come on. It’s not a long walk.”

The lights and sounds of the arcade were a dull comfort on Dazai’s senses. A chime of the bell above the door greeted them both when they entered, the cashier looked up and gave them a nod.

“Have you been here before?” Dazai asked, and they shook their head. “Excellent! As your benevolent guide, I will be happy to show you around.”

“I thought we were waiting for my brother?” They squint at him suspiciously.

“Of course, but we might as well have fun while we're at it.” Dazai steered them over to the corner to the best machine in the arcade, the game that him and Chuuya had a running bet on who could beat.

It was a basic side-scrolling hack-and-slash game, with only four controls and very simple graphics. What made it stand out was not the game itself, but how infamously hard it was. The first few levels were easy, but once the game deemed the player had an adequate understanding of the controls and how the game worked, it would increase in difficulty until the player was left in an aggravatingly high-speed bullet hell that took an inhuman amount of dexterity to defeat.

There were 100 levels in total. Dazai—who had his initials permanently at the top of the high score board—had only manged to get past level 96.

“This is the best test of skill that this arcade offers.” Dazai slid a token into the machine and he was met with a title screen he had seen many times before. The tinny music came out of the speakers, cheerfully announcing the name of the game. The player character appeared—a little red and black silhouette of a person—as well as the first enemy.

“It's deceptively simple—”

Jump. Punch. Slide. Dodge.

It was a pattern, muscle memory that had settled into his fingers. His movements were precise and measured and not a second off the mark.

“—But it gets difficult.”

Jump. Dodge. Punch. Slide.

He was close. So close.

“If you just—”

Dodge. Punch. Slide. Dodge.

Level 97 appeared across the screen—the highest he’d ever gotten before.

“—Keep going...”

Dodge. Dodge. Slide. Punch—

Game over.

“...Ugh.”

Dazai slumped in his seat, miserably entering his initials into the high score again. Chuuya would be cursing his name if he knew that he had managed to once again overtake him, but he could hardly savour the thought when he wasn't there to witness it.

With a sigh, Dazai glanced over to [Name] beside him. They were watching the screen, but their foot was tapping against the ground in an uneven rhythm, and they were picking at the edges of their nails without even seeming to realize it.

The anxiousness had set in again, it seemed. Dazai cleared his throat. “Do you want to try?”

“...Alright.”

Somewhere between the first and twelfth round of games, he’d sent a short message to the contact in his phone labelled ‘Slug’.

come to the arcade. i have a surprise :P

And when that message was left on read, Dazai decided to clarify further with a second.

the surprise is [name] by the way.

By the time their thirteenth round finished and [Name] left to use the restroom, the doors were slamming open and a familiar person with red hair and wild eyes burst in. He scanned the room, locating Dazai’s bandaged self easily heading straight for him.

“Where are they?” he hissed, turning back and forth like they would appear beside him when he wasn’t looking.

“Who? I’m not sure I know who you’re talking about?” Dazai asked innocently, as if he had done anything innocent in a long time.

“Don’t mess around! Where the fuck is—”

“Chuuya.” A voice dripping with relief cut right through Chuuya’s rising yell. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“[Name]!” Chuuya spun around, the tension melting from his stance as he saw them. “Where were you? I got home and you weren’t there.”

“I was looking for you.” They glanced over to Dazai, and lowered their voice. The rest of their exchange was muffled under the sounds of beeping and chimes from the arcade machine. Throughout it, Dazai stood frozen watching the pair.t

“We’re leaving,” Chuuya said, after what felt like hours of whispering. “…Thank you for looking out for them today.”

“You thank me like I did it out of the goodness of my heart,” Dazai said with a laugh. “That’s one more favour Chuuya owes me now.”

“Bastard. See if I ever thank you for anything again.” Chuuya growled, turning on his heel and pulling his sibling along with him.

Dazai watched the pair leave, his eyes lingering on their retreating forms. It was unsettling how easily they molded to fit the other’s company; the way Chuuya unconsciously matched his steps to theirs, the way the tension melted from their shoulders the moment they laid eyes on him. Even the tone of Chuuya’s voice softened when he addressed them, which was a sight that Dazai didn’t think he was capable of.

Was this family? Did Dazai act this way long ago when he had a relatives of his own? He could hardly fathom reaching such a closeness with anyone, let alone a family. Was he even capable of such a thing, being the broken, shell of a being he was?

Dazai shook his head, ridding himself of the trivial thoughts clouding his mind. When he left, he left alone.

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.

[chobani-flip]

ok, i have decided that i need tommy kinard to have some annoying qualities.

so far, in s7, he's been so patient and kind and thoughtful and open and funny and there for buck, and that's great. but i need him to have weird hangups. and do irritating things.

so, here's my new headcanons:

(adding to the existing ones of tommy is a coffee snob (here | here) and "if i sits i flies" tommy cannot pilot drones)

tommy is absolutely unreasonable about shutting doors behind you whenever you walk through them and he's in the room. even if you're gonna be right back and you're just getting something. whether it's summer or winter. whether it's hot or cold. doors must be shut at all times because otherwise there is a DRAFT, evan!

(im basing this on tommy's long-sleeved layer choices in s7)

tommy had worked on himself a lot in therapy, and he knows that being open with people is important, but sometimes he still likes to stew for a bit before he comes out with whatever is bothering him. and sometimes he has a hard time admitting when he feels genuinely upset about something. god, tommy, stop saying you don't mind about the buttons. i know it's just a shirt but it's your favorite shirt and i should have been more careful. i will get it fixed for you, baby, but stop saying you don't mind i can see the line between your eyebrows.

(im basing this on tommy insisting that he was absolutely not bothered by buck's famous picking-up-chicks comment. he was only concerned because buck wasn't ready. babe, you were at the very least disappointed, we could all see it, it's ok, you're allowed.)

tommy lowkey hates and is afraid of birds (the ones that can talk especially, but also in general) he is very embarrassed about this, and not very rational about it. buck finds out after they move in together and he suggests installing a bird bath near the kitchen window and gets an extreme NONREACTION in response. once tommy finally brings himself to explain his issue (no matter what howie says, cocks have NOTHING to do with it, evan! my grandmother had an parrot that she let fly all around the house and he'd shit everywhere and do horror film noises in the middle of the night. he was Evil.), they agree that birds are important for the ecosystem and, to the effect of them not dying of overheating in the furnace that is LA, buck and tommy's household should do their part. just far away from anywhere that tommy likes to sit.

(im taking maurice the terrifying rooster and running with it, folks. but in my headcanon, maurice merely exacerbated the issue that was already there. )

[silent-sanctum]

Hi! I'm a huge fan of your Jotaro writings, it's super refreshing to see someone else interpret him the way you (we?) do :'> Anyhow! If you still have requests open, I've had an idea rolling around; Eyes of Heaven timeline, so Jotaro is still trying to balance being a father with all the Stand nonsense, but he and Jolyne's mother are just too incompatible to work as a couple. Following the divorce, he meets Stand User!Reader and the two of them occasionally work together with the Speedwagon Foundation. After some time as friends, he starts getting caught between wanting to be in a relationship again and feeling like he shouldn't get any more people involved in his life. How do you think a love confession would go down in this scenario, and what would really push him to pursue someone he likes after all that? :D

Hello anon! Thank you for being a fan of my stuff :'D I always appreciate your lovely compliments. Helps motivate me. So, this prompt you sent is actually one that has been stewing in my mind for a while now, and you pushed me to write something out of that. Thank you for that as well ^^ This took a while to make, and it's pretty lengthy (mostly because it was an idea I really liked to explore, and I had to scrap one draft because it deviated from your prompt). But here it is now! Tags include: Banter mates to lovers, mild angst, hurt/comfort, drunken confessions Anyways, I hope you like this anon. This one's for you!

Partners - Jotaro x Reader

word count: 14.9k

What comes next after knowingly resetting the timeline? The question lingered in Jotaro Kujo’s mind for as long as he knew since the event.

After a life-altering fight against an overpowered vampire, he was given the choice to go back in time to undo one mistake in his life. For him, the answer came in the form of a memory: Of a little girl not older than 7 with space buns and a bright smile that had yet to fade as a result of his neglect.

And so he stepped back in time and inserted himself in the past, and he vividly remembered the utter joy on his daughter’s face when he stepped through the door with his luggage in hand- her small arms wrapped as much as they could around him, her excited chatter, her rosy cheeks. There, he knew that this decision was worth it.

Enemy Stand users be damned.

A few months have passed since then, and a lot has happened within that time frame, mostly stemming from Jotaro’s conscious effort to right some wrongs the way he could with the help of future hindsight. Most of the said changes were how his family would move forward, starting as early as possible at the age of 28.

His priority was always his child. Jolyne was the sole reason he rewrote reality, the guilt of being the reason behind his little girl’s miserable path to delinquency and hatred, weighing heavily in his heart that pushed and yelled at him to make amends and be there for his daughter. To not throw away the second chance he was blessed with.

But unfortunately, even if he did manage to maintain the relationship he had with his daughter before he could mess it up, the same couldn’t be said for his wife… or ex-wife at this point.

Jotaro tried. He genuinely did. The day he returned to the past and back at the doorstep of Madelyn's house where Jolyne stayed, she had greeted him with the same open arms but unlike the one with his child, he couldn’t feel the heart in him to fake the same enthusiasm back, which ended up in him giving her a half-armed embrace and a small smile.

Did anything change? He married her for a reason, right? The spark must be there somewhere… All that stormed his thoughts during the entirety of his attempts to catch up with her, to make up for lost time. He went along with her on dates (just like before), accepted her displays of affection (just like before), and somewhat returned her conversations (just like before).

Eventually, he concluded that it just wasn’t working. That “spark” he felt during his younger years was simply him looking for a semblance of normalcy, and he just so happened to latch onto the first person who wasn’t checking him out or screaming into his ear on the daily. But beyond that youthful romance, whatever fire he had for this relationship had dwindled into embers.

And he had to let her know truthfully.

It wasn’t emotionally charged nor did it hold as much resentment like it was when they ended things off at an older age. This talk was more civilized, speaking from the heart about him no longer having strong feelings for Madelyn and that she’d deserve someone who reciprocated her love the same way, instead of clinging to one that barely had any charge.

Jolyne, as he would have expected, wasn’t happy at the news, but with enough explanation from both parents, she would reluctantly have to adjust to the change. After the divorce, both he and Madelyn agreed to share custody of their daughter- she would have her from Monday to Thursday, and he would have her from Friday to Sunday. Another change from the previous timeline wherein his ex-wife had full custody of her.

Here he was now- sitting alone in his seaside villa’s manor office room, reviewing stacks of research articles and reports under the dim lighting of his lamp. On his desk were two picture frames: One was the group his grandfather formed- his friends- that banded together to defeat DIO, and the other was of Jolyne. He used to keep a frame of him and his ex, but there’s no point in keeping up images anymore.

The ring finger of his left hand never felt so bare, devoid of the silver band that used to adorn it.

Jotaro put down the pen and sighed, leaning back against his office chair. He pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his eyes. The place outside him was so quiet that even if this was what he wished for, he may perhaps have started to get used to a little bit of chatter. The silence always fucked with him, letting his head run a million miles into unwanted memories of loss and near-death experiences.

He needed to move. He needed to do something. Anything. just to keep him busy. And in perfect timing, his office telephone rang and he answered. “Dr. Jotaro Kujo speaking.”

”Good afternoon Dr. Kujo, your presence is required at the Speedwagon Foundation for another pressing Stand user case. It’s vital that you be here as soon as possible. Reception room A.”

He looked at his calendar and stared at the current day. A Monday. At least Jolyne’s with her mother today… “I’ll be there.”

Perhaps this was his fate. This was his new life and he had to get used to it: A life of doing his professional job and investigating Stand users of all varieties, all while he returned to an empty home and an overwhelming feeling of solitude. A lonely life in exchange for everyone’s safety.

Jotaro fixed his office, filing away the papers into folders before standing and getting his keys, promptly leaving his residence and getting into his car.

The drive to the Speedwagon Foundation felt like it had gotten shorter with each visit and it was almost routine by this point from the number of times he went back and forth from the place, but before he could dwell on that thought, he arrived at the familiar establishment of the private organization.

The security greeted his arrival as per usual and he nodded once in greetings before stepping inside to the meeting room told to him.

With a twist of the knob, he opened the door expecting to be met with the same agent with his glasses and folders in hand. What he was met with was not only the aforementioned man, but a woman sitting near the head of the table, wearing a pair of sleek shades and a 2-piece black cropped suit, holding a glass of red wine.

“Greetings. You’re on time.” Jotaro nodded once to him before glancing at the newcomer casually lounging in the space they were in. “Ah yes. My apologies. I had forgotten to introduce the new member to our on-field team. She’s-”

“I can handle the introductions myself, Agent Townsend,” you said with a raise of your hand. The agent in question immediately complied, his mouth clamped shut at your words. “I believe I told you that before contacting him.”

You took one more sip from your glass before you stood and strode over to Jotaro with an unsettling mix of confidence, intensity, and neutrality to your stance. You stopped a few feet away from him and allowed a quick second of silence for him to process your sudden appearance. And even he didn’t know he needed that one second of “who are you” until you did it for him.

You took off your shades and let them hang on the collar of your button-up dress shirt, staring up at him with a smile comparable to a businesswoman offering a lucrative deal. “Pleasure meeting you, Dr. Kujo.” You held up a hand to him. “Y/N L/N.”

“Jotaro Kujo,” he said in return, shaking your hand. “Though you already knew that beforehand.”

You nodded and shoved your hands back in your pockets, turning your head to the side. Without looking, you addressed the other person in the room: “You may continue with the rest of the introductions.” You looked back at him as the agent spoke behind her.

“Y-Yes. I’ll do just that,” Townsend stammered but with a cough and a clear of his throat, his professionalism slipped back on. “She’s one of the Foundation’s top beneficiaries that has been supporting us for 4 years now. It was only 2 years ago that she decided to be an active member of the organization.”

“Slight correction,” you started. “I decided to join because apparently, this organization’s leaders refused to branch out into more progressive paths, more specifically investing in improving this whole Stand investigation business. It appears you guys are short on agents dealing with this specific issue. Alas, I’m here.”

“W-Well to be fair, we can’t exactly find willing civilians with Stands who’d join our private organization-”

“I have contacted friends who also have Stands. They’ll be finalizing some local work and they’ll inform me of their transfer to the Speedwagon Foundation. I can start figuring out how to recruit for more after their adjustment.” Townsend, once again, zipped his lips shut and nodded.

“But for now,” you redirected your words to Jotaro with a light curl to your lip. “You and I will be handling these pesky Stand users. You can thank me if, at some point, you wondered why your workload in the Foundation has been halved.”

Jotaro was at a loss for words as he remained silent, staring at the new face in front of him with disbelief and confusion. This… this wasn’t the case in the previous timeline. Where were you then? Why didn’t you volunteer your services when he needed it before? Did he do something new that he wasn’t aware of?

“You…” He started. “You’ve dealt with Stand users?”

“I wouldn’t be investing my money and time here otherwise,” you said, matter-of-fact. “Nor would I be this annoyed, again, for the executives in this place for using my funding for medical use or research purposes instead of-” You cut yourself and took a deep breath. “Whatever.”

As much as Jotaro appreciated an extra hand, he had mixed feelings about having someone else help him. Stressful as his job was, at least he got used to it and managed to finish each case independently without having to worry about anyone else’s safety.

“Mr. Townsend, with all due respect, I can handle these cases by myself,” he said. “I have no doubts she has the capabilities, but my assignments are mine to deal with.”

You cocked a brow up at him and let out a drawled “ahh”. “Afraid I might get hurt, big guy?”

“I-” His brows furrowed at that unnerving guess because that was exactly it. He kept his calm and crossed his arms. “It’s not like that.”

“Then I don’t know what other reason you possibly could have for declining assistance,” you said, crossing your arms as well. “Unless you’re that type of man.”

He scoffed. “You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“You aren’t exactly giving me clear answers either.”

Jotaro glared at his supposed new “work partner,” who stared back at him with nonchalance, unaffected. If he was 11 years younger, he might’ve called you a “bitch” out of teenage pettiness or spite. Age does wonders for his patience.

Townsend cleared his throat the second time. “I apologize, Dr. Kujo, but the higher-ups have agreed that having someone to help you in the Stand investigation might garner quicker results for our research team to study.” He adjusted his glasses and continued. “The faster the Stand users are dealt with, the less you have to worry about your family being harmed.”

His family may be his top priority, but the allies surrounding him were a close second. If anything were to happen out of the blue, and you get injured or worse- “Kujo-ssi…” His train of thought halted at your sudden shift of tone. “Like Agent Townsend said, I took up half your workload and came out unscathed. He can attest that I delivered the needed results with time to spare. Trust my words when I say I can handle it. This isn’t my first rodeo.”

Jotaro warred with himself on what to do, his hands clenched in his pant pockets.

“If it helps, Ms. L/N comes from a convenient background that has been useful in this field. A former member of law enforcement, and has extensive knowledge of criminology and criminal justice.”

In all honesty, it should, but whether you were skilled or not, he still couldn’t help but be hesitant. His old friends were skilled. They knew how to use their Stands, and he knew they were strong allies. That didn’t stop death from taking them regardless.

But just like him, you were stubborn and didn’t know how to back down. “Let’s compromise, then. Just one case, and you can decide whether we continue our partnership.”

“Why are you so adamant about teaming up with me?” He gritted his teeth.

“Efficiency,” you shrugged. “You’re quite popular in the Foundation, and I’ve learned a lot about your skill set and competencies. If we put our skills together, we can breeze past several cases in comparison to a slower, one-man expedition. Don’t deny it. You want assistance.”

“How about you learn how to mind your damn business?” Jotaro said, both frustrated at your adamant choice and embarrassed with himself, knowing deep down you were right. He wanted to spend time with his child, and this new timeline gave him the human incarnate of volition who could help him with this job.

You crossed your arms and maintained eye contact with him, unperturbed by his intimidation. “This is my business, and I think you should learn how to trust in others and reinvest in new win-win deals, hm?”

At that moment, his youthful bite sparked and it took a great amount of restraint to filter “You’re such a bitch” into “You’re so annoying” but of course, you smirked at his retort. “I’ve been told.”

“Should… should we proceed with discussing the cases?” In the background, Agent Townsend interrupted the two, uncomfortable with the tension in the room.

“I don’t agree-”

“Yes, we should,” you said at the same time he spoke. “I believe introductions are over, and we have yet to be briefed about who we’re dealing with.” You took your seat, and with no other say in this, Jotaro took his spot with irritation and an inkling of concern.

He grumbled to himself under his hat and muttered a quick “Good fucking grief…”

---

Jotaro could’ve gone to the next assignment and left the first to you, but damn you for pitching the idea of keeping the documents in your possession.

Their first assignment was to investigate an unusual pattern of events in Jacksonville. Details of the occurrence traced back to a shaggy man in his mid-20s who had a habit of moving from a cheap apartment or motel room to another, each place of residence he left now covered with corrosive acid that burned not only furniture but nearby civilians as well.

Usually, he would just go to the different sites that the Stand user had been through, sweep the area to gather anything that the person left behind, and work with what he had to track down the target. It was time-consuming and more of a brute force type of method, but it worked for him every time, so he never deviated from it.

You, on the other hand, took the more proactive approach that proved your background as a former detective.

You took note of whatever details he found in each site, and spoke with witnesses about what the guy was like and whether he shared details in any conversations. You coordinated with other professionals (SWF researchers, local officers, security personnel, medical staff, etc.) and gathered more intel to formulate a pattern in his path of trouble.

And in the span of three days, all the information led the duo to another rundown motel by the edge of the city. Jotaro refused to believe your tactics worked just for the sake of breaking connections with you, but when you reached the location, the place was in the process of being corroded by neon green acid, other residents fleeing the scene screaming for their lives, leaving behind the young man stepping through a newly corroded door with unsteady feet, patting his stuffed duffle bag.

Well, I’ll be damned. Your approach was faster. You spared him one glance that said “I told you” before heading to block the Stand user’s next path. He held back a groan and followed after you.

“Hey!” The man stopped and stared at you with surprise like a deer caught by headlights. His pupils were unnaturally dilated. He stood a couple of feet away from where you were. “Where do you think you’re going?” He shrank in on himself and was about to turn to the other direction, only for Jotaro to block that path as well.

“You have some questions to answer, Mr. Deville. I’d rather we talk it out like adults,” you said. “Or are you too high to even care?”

Deville snorted and pointed at the two. “Who do you think you are, huh?” He spat on the pavement. “Don’t you see all this? I made that! And I can show you more if you don’t move!”

“You’re not convincing anyone with that bravado, so drop the act already,” Jotaro said.

The young man looked at you with confusion before it warped into another snort and then into a series of cackles. “Oh, you really want to end up as fleshy goop! Okay! I can show you!”

Jotaro tensed as Deville reached into his bag to pull something out, Star Platinum ready to attack, only for a gunshot to ring into the air, followed by the guy shrieking in pain as a bullet lodged itself into his bicep. Stunned, Jotaro turned to you as you walked over to him, a revolver in hand, still aimed at Deville.

You had a gun? “Hey, a woman has to be prepared,” you said. If she had a gun, then does that mean she was just a regular Foundation agent without a Stand?

Deville gripped his bleeding arm and sneered at you. “You dumbfucks actually fell for it. Every cop does, and now you get to see my cool acid in action yourselves!”

He braced himself for the young man’s Stand ability, and he heard an audible hiss flying through the air behind them. Star was already out, ready to deflect the incoming acidic projectile. It’ll burn his knuckles and it’ll hurt like hell, sure, but he had experienced worse injuries.

However, before his Stand could do so, a shimmering wall of rose gold had zipped behind them just in time to shield both of them from the acid, taking no damage from the corrosive substance. Jotaro furrowed his brows and trailed the length of the fabric, and when he found its end disappearing into your body, his eyes widened in realization.

You had a Stand.

A SWF agent with not only the skills of a seasoned detective but also the ability to wield a whole supernatural entity.

Deville stepped back in shock. “N-No way. No fucking way. That’s not fair! How?!”

“Kujo,” you started. “You get close to him and knock that guy out. I’ll cover you by dealing with his Stand.” On cue, the humanoid blob Stand gurgled with displeasure as it quickly moved closer to regurgitate another spew of acid. With no second thought, Jotaro followed your instructions and took off as your Stand shielded you from the corrosion.

The culprit cursed and turned to flee in a panic. In response, his Stand redirected its attention to him. His heart raced as soon as he knew that the blob was after him, but before it could touch him, your Stand’s fabrics had already stretched forward and wrapped themselves around the slime and yanked it back and away from him.

He shouldn’t waste any more time. With a silent command, Star Platinum froze time, halting the world around him as he continued to sprint toward the fleeing Stand user.

By the time everything began to move, he was already in front of Deville. In a split second, Star delivered a solid jab and two before launching into its signature fist barrage. With the man rendered unconscious, his Stand dissolved back into the concrete.

Jotaro took in a couple of breaths after all that running and went over to make sure that the Stand user was out cold. “Ah damn. A bit of acid got on my sleeves. Ruined it.” You said with a click of your tongue as you joined him a few seconds after, pulling out a long silver pin from your hair clip. “Just one more thing before closing the case and reporting to HQ.”

“What are you doing?” You didn’t answer as you quickly punctured the side of Deville’s throat with the sharp steel. “L/N! What the hell?! We’re not supposed to kill-” You stopped him with a raised hand as you withdrew the pin. The wound closed in by itself, and at the blunt end of the steel, a feathered quill emerged.

“A druggie shouldn’t have the possession of a Stand. I highly doubt he’d listen to any persuasion if we simply brought him back to the Foundation.” You tucked the quill into your pocket and slid the hairpin back into your hair. “So, might as well nip it in the bud, and then send him to rehab.”

“What… the hell did you do?”

“You know the whole Stand Arrow business? How they gift lucky people with Stands?” You started. “A colleague of mine has a Stand that just so happened to procure a secondary ability to extract other Stands without harming the individual, and convert them into these inked quills for documentation.”

“So what you did was-”

“Remove Deville’s Stand. He’s still alive, too, so you don’t have to worry about him dying due to blood loss.”

“You… might honestly be a little insane.” Jotaro sighed, tipping his hat over his face. “My god, you can’t just stab people out of the blue. At least warn a guy.”

You shrugged. “Alright. I’ll admit… I forgot to tell you about my closing process. I offer my sincerest apologies.” He cast a deadpan stare at you. “Let’s contact the guys back in the Foundation so they can deal with him.” At that, he nodded. “And after that, how about we treat ourselves to a little celebration before heading back?”

“A celebration?” He crossed his arms. “Isn’t that a bit too excessive? Or too early? This is just the first case after all.”

“There’s no harm in giving yourself a reward for a job well done, right?” You smiled, eyes glinting. “Let’s eat out. I saw this small sandwich restaurant, and the selection looked too good to pass.”

Jotaro grunted in response and spent a second looking at his watch. He’s supposed to head back by now, hand in his report, and return to finishing paperwork from his day job as a biologist, but then his stomach growled at his inconvenience. It just occurred to him that he hadn’t eaten properly for the past three days. A bad habit he developed out of stress. Damnit. Damn it all. “Fine, but let’s freshen up first and we can eat.”

You cocked your head and look down at your dust-covered clothes then back at him. “Good idea. Let’s do that.”

---

“You’re that good with firearms?”

“I’m one of the top marksmen of my batch. It may or may not also be a compensation for my shit grade at hand-to-hand combat. How about you? You look built. I’m sure you’ve put your physique to good use.”

“You could say that. After all, one has to be in good shape when you have people consistently after you.”

“Hm, you’re quite resilient. I like that. It’s no wonder the Foundation likes sending you out here to do their bidding.”

“Being recognized as reliable is a huge pain in the ass though. It has gotten me feeling like a war veteran in my late 20s.”

“Touché, but some people get used to it. Perhaps even use it to their advantage.”

“People like you?” You smirked and took a sip of your coffee. Intrigued, he kept his focus on you as he drank his cup.

Honestly, Jotaro never expected anything to come out of your suggestion to eat at a small restaurant. At first, he envisioned the whole night to be awkward, loaded with uncomfortable tension, considering how you and he were introduced. Hell, he dreaded the moment you might start small talk with him just because they were work partners.

But after a change of clothes, both of you entered the sandwich shop, and you immediately accommodated him as if he were an old colleague for months instead of days, which caught him off guard.

The moment you and he took your seats, you made sure to keep the mood light by naturally launching into conversation topics that he was familiar with- Stands, the Speedwagon Foundation, a couple of experiences working for them, etc. He’s supposed to hate casual conversation like this, but there was something in the way you talked with passion and depth, and how you responded to his thoughts with equal depth that kept him engaged.

It was a breath of fresh air when most of his life consisted of him having to be mostly the receiving end of a variety of small talks (most of which had people talk about their interests and something adjacent to that, while he could only give off some sign that he was listening), or be the other half of a formal discussion at work.

He didn’t mind being a listener, but it did get annoying and lonely sometimes.

You were a rare case when he realized that he reciprocated your every thought and opinion about Stand users and the system behind the Foundation. For once, he wasn’t hesitant when voicing out his frustrations and knowledge about this whole shadow job he got himself into.

Even as your sandwiches arrived, you somehow still managed to slip in interesting topics for them to talk about over dinner and coffee. He liked listening to you.

“Huh. So, you live something like a double life, sort of? You work as a marine biologist on the daily and as the Foundation’s favorite agent for half a week?” He nodded. “Don’t you have any spare time in that tight schedule? You must’ve.”

“I’d rather keep myself busy,” he said, not looking at you. “It helps distract me from… my thoughts. Besides, both jobs require me to work full time, and, fortunately, I’m able to use intimidation to just get by and do the tasks I want to focus on.”

“As a fellow workaholic, you should at least get some time to yourself. Work with no play can lead to misery.”

“Is it?” He huffed out a poor imitation of a chuckle, empty and a tiny bit self-deprecating. “It isn’t exactly miserable when I don’t think it to be.”

“My god,” You stared at him, dumbfounded. “That’s… masochistic.” You cocked your head. “Yeah, no. I am sure I'm going to drag your ass with me to my food stops after every assignment.” He scoffed but wasn’t completely against it.

Once sandwiches were consumed, Jotaro couldn’t help but share that observation about you. “Can I just say… You do know your way of getting people to pay attention to you. It’s also remarkable you kept finding new things to talk about to someone who initially didn’t want your help.”

“First impressions are not supposed to be a judge of character.” You dabbed your lips free from any sauce and shrugged. “I’ve learned how to build rapport over the years, and from that, I don’t see why I have to keep up any hostility around you.” You smiled.

At that reply, Jotaro paused. There were a lot of things he didn’t expect from you. He was ready to just bear a night of sass and passive-aggression and go home before his ex could drop off Jolyne into his care. And yet, here he was sitting in front of a surprisingly accommodating, sharpshooter SWF agent with a Stand, wanting to listen to more of your ramblings.

With a clear of your throat, you switched back to work mode and said, “Now we had our fill, I believe we still have 2 more cases to investigate. None of which has a set deadline so we can be flexible with the scheduling.” He nodded. “Are you down to starting the second case the day after tomorrow?”

Jotaro shook his head. “I have to watch over my kid for the next 3 days. That and I have to do some work with my day job.”

You raised a brow. “You have a kid?”

“A daughter. She’s just 7, and I’ve been wanting to spend more time with her when I can.” While she still accepted and trusted her father, that is…

“I assume you hire a babysitter when you’re out and about doing work?”

“She’s with her mother,” he said. He should stop revealing more information about himself, but being with someone willing to listen to him in return had urged him to just continue spilling them out. “I arranged all the heavier aspects of work on the days she’s with her, so when she’s with me, I can attend to her more.”

You didn’t answer for a second, choosing your words right most likely, before you spoke. “Shared custody?” His eyes lowered to his plate and nodded. “With your… ex?”

There was that hesitation before the “ex”, a side of you that didn’t want to assume, but you weren’t wrong, so he replied with a curt “Yes.”

“I see,” you hummed. “Well, I don’t see a problem with postponing duties. We can deal with our next assignment on Monday, then.”

“You’re easily swayed. Aren’t you supposed to be all about dealing with the issue as early as possible?”

“Like I said, there are no deadlines set. I don’t see why I have to be an asshole about ruining your schedule.” He had nothing to say, but he was grateful for your understanding. He looked at his watch to check the time. 8:00 PM. There was still a little bit of time before they’d temporarily part ways.

Jotaro low-key hoped you noticed the spare time and waited for you to enter into another conversation, but to his disappointment, you stood and got your things in order. “It’s getting late, and I know you’re itching to go home and rest.” No… I don’t mind staying a little longer… He kept those words to himself and just stared at you with a slight furrow of his brow.

“I have other matters to tend to, so let’s call it a night, yeah?” She smiled at him. He swallowed his feelings and masked nonchalance as he stood after you with his hands in his pockets, nodding. “Doesn’t feel all that bad having assistance now, does it?”

He huffed. “I suppose the whole ‘having a work partner’ doesn’t seem too bad…”

“Then, is it safe to assume I’ll expect to meet up with you again next week for our next case, Kujo? She raised a hand to him.

A ghost of a smile graced his lips as he shook your hand. He can’t wait to talk to you again. “Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”

---

“And that’s how the life of a beluga whale plays out…”

The little girl sitting on his lap pouted and looked up at her father, taking the storybook from his hands and furrowing her brows, “But Papa, how come Benny had to leave his pod at the end? Why not make friends with Blubber?”

He petted her hair with a low hum. “That’s just how nature works with species like belugas. Sometimes, there will be times when other animals are not that trusting and will hesitate to accept strangers into the group. This leads to the two fighting, and whoever wins gets to be in the group.”

“That’s so sad…”

“Did… did you want to hear a better story? I’m sorry I picked this-”

“No! I did like the story, Papa! Just like the stories of Ollie Orca and Penny Penguin! I learned a lot about the squishies!” Jolyne exclaimed, dropping the book to turn to him and press his cheeks together. “You make learning about sea animals nice!”

Jotaro smiled and nodded with a hint of bashfulness, his daughter’s encouragement never failing to make his day better. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Night had dawned on the father and daughter duo rather fast without either realizing. It took the ending of Benny Beluga for the child to realize that it was her bedtime and another day with her dad had gone by. Jotaro never felt confident in his parenting skills, but from the way her eyes glimmered at him and her smile widened with every laughter, he could almost feel proud that his efforts were coming to fruition.

Jolyne was her father’s little girl and she always made sure to remind him of that.

“Alright. You know what time it is,” he said as Star Platinum lifted the pouting girl off his lap and tucked her into bed. For Jolyne, she was used to the invisible ghost friend her father had and treated Star as her guardian angel. “Lights out, kiddo…”

“Will you stay up overnight again?” He offered a small smile and nodded. “But you always work overnight… you’re gonna get sick.”

“It’s fine, Jolyne. Papa’s used to it now.”

“But you look very sad when I see you working,” she muttered with a pout, gripping her blanket close to her. “I don’t like you being so sad…”

“I’m not. Trust me,” he said half-heartedly. He didn’t want to dump his adult issues onto his young daughter. Star handed her dolphin plushie and he adjusted the sheets over his daughter. “I’m feeling fine. You don’t have to worry about your old man because you’re here to make my day…”

“But what if I’m not here?” Jolyne pouted. “Who’s going to make you happy?

He averted his eyes and stared at his hand, still holding onto her blanket. He won’t admit it, but he could feel the loneliness start to drive him crazy. “I can manage those days.”

“Are you sure you don’t want Mama to come back and help you?”

He nodded once. “I’m sure and… I’m sorry…” Jolyne didn’t answer after that and settled into her pillow, hugging her stuffed toy, slightly saddened. He reached down to give her one more head ruffle and stood. “Get some sleep now. I’ll make your favorite breakfast when you wake up.”

“If not Mama… then can it be anyone else? I won’t mind… I swear…” He paused and looked back at his little girl, half-asleep. “I don’t want Papa to be alone…”

His heart clenched at her words. For his child to be open to him finding another partner just so she wouldn’t have to see or imagine his tired, overworked father alone, did a lot of emotional damage to his psyche, and made it hurt even more knowing that he had sacrificed this amount of love from his daughter in the old timeline.

“I have you and that’s enough for me…” Jotaro knelt one more time by her bedside and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t worry too much…”

At this point, Jolyne had already fallen asleep. He smiled and fixed her bangs before standing and leaving the room as quietly as possible.

---

A few months flew by, and working with you was probably one of the better decisions he reconsidered in his lifetime.

What felt like a slog to get through almost turned into a breeze with your added help. You proved to him countless times that tracking and catching criminals and suspects was your specialty. That your skills and methods worked well with his- his keen observation skills with your intuition, his grounded assumptions applied to your tight networking, his close combat prowess with your sharpshooter aim, his powerful Star Platinum paired with your impenetrable Silent Sanctuary.

Going with this rate, when 10 cases would take several months to accomplish, were finished within at least 5.

Outside of work, he surprisingly grew to like your rather no-filter, sharp attitude when he shouldn’t. It was never explicitly shared, but it was safe to say that you two grew to become close friends.

You automatically settled into a natural dynamic where he would more often follow after you while you were doing your own thing. When you had something in mind, he was there to lend an ear, and sometimes an opinion. There never was a quiet day when he was with you, and for the first time in a while, he didn’t mind the endless chatter you had. They piqued his interest, and you always had food or drink on the table whenever you had your tangents.

Then, to his unfortunate realization, he found out that all the traits you had that irked him in the beginning… were attractive. It wasn’t that the feeling brewed overnight. The moments of him stuck in his office after an assignment had left him mulling over a series of consistent interactions with the shameless agent, and how all of it wormed its way into his brain like a temptation.

Your authority and assertiveness:

”Care to answer why you chose to break the rule of ‘no stalking’?”

The former Stand user, tied up and heavily bruised, whimpered under the scrutiny of your gaze. His case involved having a Stand that was able to make him incorporeal, and with such an ability, he had multiple instances of stalking and harassing young women. But now, Jotaro doubted he would do any more harm, considering his Stand was extracted and he was under your intense interrogation.

The two victims stood behind Jotaro while everything unfolded before them and the eyes of law enforcement. “I-I didn’t mean- I only wanted- I mean- I should have-”

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and spat directly at his face, “Stop crying and talk properly, you degenerate.” You tilted your head and tugged at the strands of his hair. “Let me repeat myself in a more literal manner: What made you think it was alright to torment and stalk these ladies with such perversion?”

”I-I just wanted affection!”

Jotaro gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at the cheap excuse, more so when the girls behind him still cowered. You harshly let him go and made it clear you were not buying it either. “Pathetic. And knowing you’re married too?” You showed the man his silver ring. “You disgust me, and your wife should be too.”

One of the officers who arrived on the scene butted in. “We can take over from here-”

”No, the hell you’re not,” you snapped at him. “Not with you having the audacity to take your sweet time after these ladies have called for help. My partner and I will be dropping him off at the station ourselves and making sure he stays behind bars.”

”Now hold on. You dare speak to an officer of the law like that-”

”Girls, did I hear right that you said the cops usually disregard your calls and even heard them scoff through the phone?” You addressed the two women standing behind Jotaro, who nodded frantically. “And that he usually just lets creeps like him go for some reason?”

”We had to! There’s not enough evidence-”

”There are security cameras in the areas they went and people who saw it happen. You couldn’t go over the footage or ask anyone around? You couldn’t recognize a repeated pattern after many calls? Couldn’t you do your job better?” The cop fell silent. “Exactly. Like I said, I’ll be making sure he gets his due. I don’t care if I have to talk to your superiors, because I will if it means giving these ladies peace of mind.”

The officer bristled and turned to Jotaro. “What the hell are you doing just standing there like a bystander and letting your partner talk shit to us. You ignorant or what?”

He couldn’t care less getting berated out of the blue since it was stupid, but then, ”Hey!” You butted in, and his heart might have skipped a pulse. ”You don’t get to talk shit to him when I'm the one talking while he did nothing wrong.”

You pulled the tied man up to his wobbly legs and strode to the officers, staring them down as you shoved the man in the direction of your car. “Officer of the law,” you scoffed. “Earn your title first before flaunting it to my face just to get paid. A disgrace is what you are.” Again, the cops said nothing and avoided eye contact with you, cheeks slightly tinted with embarrassment.

Your care and protectiveness:

”You can be so reckless at times, you know that, right?”

”These aren’t that bad. I’ve dealt with worse…”

”The fuck do you mean ‘not that bad’?! You’re blood’s actively still soaking most of your clothes!”

Another case had been resolved involving a woman with a blade-based Stand. The whole investigation could’ve been better if she wasn’t neurotic and thought that everyone around her should bend to her whims. The encounter, in general, was nothing too unique in how she utilized her Stand to attack.

That didn’t stop her from landing a few deep gashes on his body when she managed to separate you from him momentarily.

But just like any other Stand encounter, he had the same pain tolerance from when he was younger and just brushed off his injuries as yet another common recurrence in his life. Even if, at times, said wounds would cause him to collapse and faint from blood loss.

And yet here you were, making sure he wouldn’t let him have another near-death experience by having him propped up against the headboard of a motel’s bed, and stripping him off his torn white coat and shirt, ripping it in some areas, if necessary. Despite feeling like he could pass out at any point, his cheeks warmed, almost feeling… shy as you exposed his skin and tended to his injuries with urgency and your classic intensity.

”You’re worrying too much. I said I’m fi-” You hissed at him, the sharp sound clamping his mouth shut immediately.

”You better stop downplaying your wounds or I might just leave you to die.” He was about to speak, only for him to wince from reflex as you poured streams of water on the large gash on his torso and the laceration up his arm. “Honestly, with the way you’re going about this, I think I’m growing more concerned you’re finding these injuries normal than the actual injuries themselves.”

Jotaro shrugged, looking elsewhere. “It is what it is. I got used to it… I even learned how to perform first aid by myself on the spot.”

”Shit,” you cocked your head with furrowed brows, your hands still cleaning his cuts with careful touches. With it still bleeding, you had Sanctuary lend her fabric to wrap around his gashes. “You call me insane, but I think you’re just as insane as I, but in a different way.”

At that, he let out an empty chuckle that sounded like a half-hearted scoff. “I don’t think resilience should be compared to being a bull in a china shop- ah!” He shut his eyes and yelped as your Stand tightened its cloth around his cuts, effectively preventing even more blood loss.

”I’m not that aggressive! Nor am I that brutish!” You said, and even with narrowed eyes, “At least say I’m like a rabid cat wrecking all her owner’s porcelain. At least I’d still look classy as I wreak havoc…” Jotaro looked down at you, and he could see your lips purse into a pout as you monitored his wounds. He could feel his lips curl into a smile. Cute… Wait.

”But that’s beside the point,” you huffed, removing your Stand’s fabrics and unfurling a roll of bandages to properly dress his gashes. “What I’m saying is that you might need further help if you’ve been this desensitized to severe wounds like these.”

”Oh? Suddenly, you’re a psychology expert?��

”No… but,” you gazed into his eyes as you tightened the bandages until it’s firmly secure, your hands holding his waist. “I am your partner. And partners look out for each other if they’re going to be together for the long run. And I’ll be damned to hell if I’m going to pretend you’re invincible or some other bullshit like that.”

Jotaro couldn’t say anything after that, speechless. If anything, his breath turned shaky when he could feel the rapid beat of his heart thumping in his chest as a swirl of emotions bubbled to the surface. “I am your partner”. He didn’t know why that struck a chord in him, but those words had formed a lump in his throat and a slight blur in his vision, even if he knew you meant it as work partners.

God, he wanted to hear that so bad…

You got up with a heavy sigh after his wounds were dressed and pulled the sheets over his abdomen. “Let’s rest here for the night and head back to HQ tomorrow. I’ll take the couch and…” You rubbed your arms from the chill and picked up his ruined coat, still stained with red. “Make your clothing still useful, I guess.”

”Don’t be stupid. The bed’s big enough for two,” he said, smoothing over the empty spot beside him. “And no, I don’t need all the space for a good night’s sleep even if I’m injured or a big person.”

You widened your eyes and spluttered with a hint of a blush on your cheeks, “You serious? I didn’t peg you to be a bed sharer, Kujo.”

The more you resisted, the more his cheeks warmed from embarrassment. He averted his gaze, turning flustered. “I’m just being practical. It’s a big bed designed for two. Might as well make use of it instead of toughing it out with my tattered coat as a blanket…” There was an awkward silence between you. “My god, just get in the damn bed already. It’s fine.”

You ended up under the covers with him, lying apart from each other. However, instead of facing away as they would’ve expected, Jotaro couldn’t help but face you, and you did the same, neither falling asleep. “Hey…” He hummed in acknowledgment. “When we’re together like this, I want you to promise me one thing…”

”… What is it?”

”Promise me you won’t hide your pains from me again. You have to tell me so I can do what I can to help you…”

He paused, his hand closing slightly from where it rested on the pillow. “And what if you can’t?”

You closed your eyes and muttered. “I’ll figure something out, but I’m not going to leave you to rot… that’s the least I can do…"

Jotaro pressed his cheek on his pillow and nodded once, his heart swelling with emotions. “Okay…”

He groaned and rubbed his face behind his hands, cheeks heating up significantly, more so remembering the day after. He couldn’t forget the second he had woken up, he found himself huddled close to you, both bodies curled against each other to bask in each other’s warmth.

What was he doing? This was dumb. He shouldn’t be thinking about this when he’s made peace with himself about being alone, and you had better things to do than to accommodate his tired ass. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but want more from the dynamic you and he had.

“Papa!” Jotaro snapped out of his thoughts and turned to look at Jolyne clutching his pants, looking up at him. “You’re in your deep thinking head mode again.”

“Oh… am I now?”

“Yeah! Your eyebrows do that thing where it gets close and it looks like you’re angry, but you’re not. That type- Like this!” She demonstrated by doing an exaggerated furrow of her brow, mimicking him. “You always do that.”

“Your Papa just has a lot of things going on in his mind, alright?” He stood and ruffled her hair. “It’s dinner time. Want to help me and Star in the kitchen? We’re making one of your favorites.” Of course, she already knew that. He always made her favorite meals when she was with him.

Jolyne beamed and nodded excitedly, her fists clenched and eager. “Which one?!”

“Which do you think?”

She hummed and said the first thing on her mind. “Ramen! The one in the big bowl!”

Jotaro cocked his brow as the duo stepped into the kitchen. “Again? Didn’t I make that for you last night?” He said that, but he had already opened the cupboard to grab the flour needed for the noodles. “You know, eating the same stuff over and over again isn’t good for you.”

“But it’s yummy!” Jolyne whined, bouncing on her feet with her hands on the countertop. “And Mama always cooks the same stuff all the time…”

“Are you saying her cooking’s bad?”

“No… It’s not bad… I just like Papa’s cooking better!” He chuckled as he gathered the ingredients together. Perhaps tolerating his mother’s cooking lessons throughout his younger years paid off.

But before he could start, the home phone rang. Jotaro furrowed his brows and placed down the pork. What the hell? I shouldn’t be receiving new assignments during my weekends. He walked over and lifted the phone to his ear. “Dr. Kujo speaking.”

He listened to the speaker, and his heart started to grow heavy. “Fuck. Again? Another emergency at the facility? Can’t you call someone else?” Jolyne watches on from the background, her face already despondent when she picks up on her father’s conflicted expression. “I can’t just leave my child by herself. I’m watching her. I’m cooking her dinner for god’s sake.”

I shouldn’t be working on my weekends. Damn it. “You swear this won’t take long?”

I don’t want to leave my daughter again. Not this time. “Fine. I’m going home as soon as this problem is dealt with. Don’t bother requesting my assistance again after.” He places the phone back down.

“Are you going back to work again…?” She muttered, gaze turning downcast to her hands fidgeting with the green onions. “I really wanted to play chef with you and Star again…”

Jotaro swallowed the rising guilt in his throat and approached his daughter, kneeling before her and taking her hands in his. “This won’t be one of my heavier duties. It won’t take long. It’ll only be for a few hours. I promise.”

Jolyne pressed her lips together, willing herself not to cry because she was a big girl now. “B-But what about dinner? You were supposed to make dinner with me…”

“I know. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” He looked at the nearby wall clock and cursed to himself. A babysitter was an immediate solution that came to mind, but he saw his fair share of those people, and he refused to put his only child under the supervision of some teenager who’s only in it for the pay, especially for parents as wealthy as him. Calling his ex was also out of the question. It just made him uncomfortable.

Leaving only one person in mind, though he doubted it would work out.

It took him by surprise when 30 minutes after he sent the text, of him trying to figure out alternative solutions, the doorbell rang. He opened the door, and you were there to greet him casually. “Hey. You have impeccable timing to text me just as I was finishing up my meeting with my company’s human resources committee. Hope I didn’t take too long.”

I thought you were too busy even to bother, but you came… “No, you didn’t.” He stepped aside for you to enter.

Jotaro watched you look around the house. “The Foundation wasn’t kidding when they said the Joestars had money.” You set your bag on one of the couches in his living room. “Spacious, a mix of modern West and traditional Eastern design, and I can imagine it must be scenic when it’s daytime, having it by the sea. It sets a nice ambiance for your home,” you said. “I like your style.”

His cheeks flushed at the compliment. “It was mostly thanks to my mother. I don’t pay too much attention to that kind of detail.” He shrugged. “My daughter loves it though, so I’m glad that worked out in the end.”

“Oh! Speaking of your daughter, where is she? May I get to know her?”

Jotaro nodded and left for the kitchen to bring his 7-year-old girl to you. She wasn’t the type to be shy around strangers, and to you, she merely tilted her head and stared at you with curious eyes before looking back at him, confused. “Y/N, this is Jolyne. Jolyne, this is my work partner Y/N.”

You squatted down to level with the child and smiled. “Why hello, Jolyne. It’s nice meeting you.” Jolyne watched her with wide eyes, never once breaking eye contact, even as you offered her a hand to shake. “I heard you’re quite adventurous. I feel like you and I will get along just fine.” She grabbed your hand with both of hers.

“Y/N will watch over you while I’m out,” Jotaro said, petting the little girl’s head. “Try not to cause too much trouble, alright?” Jolyne furrowed her brows and bit her lip, still upset that he had to leave, but she nodded reluctantly. He patted her shoulder twice before standing to prepare.

He sighed and went to retrieve his bag and car keys. “I appreciate you coming over. I owe you one…”

“We can talk about that when you get back. You handle your business first,” you said.

He nodded once. “Alright. I won’t take long.”

---

You saw him off as he drove to work and closed the door behind you. “Okay. Let’s see…,” You muttered to yourself. “It’s dinner, so I should deal with that first.”

Stepping into the kitchen, Jolyne sat on one of the island stools, holding onto the box of flour among the many other ingredients on the counter. She caught you staring and waited for what you had planned. “Planned to cook with your dad, huh?” She nodded. You rolled up your sleeves and approached the counter. “What was on the menu?”

“… Ramen,” she muttered. “I was supposed to help him make a big bowl, but he’s back working late again…”

“Well, we can still make that big bowl of ramen if you want.” Jolyne looked up at you with wide eyes as you examined each ingredient your partner had left. “Of course, it won’t be on par with your dad’s recipe, but I promise mine won’t be too bad. Is that fine with you, young lady?”

Jolyne puffed her cheeks and hummed, giving it a thought. She pouted and crossed her arms. “It’s fine because I’m hungry.”

Aside from the given ingredients, you looked in the cabinets and fridge to check what else was there to use. “Your dad stocked up a lot of food,” you commented as you took in the number of produce, meat selections, and spices in his kitchen.

“Mhm! Papa said it’s all for me!” Jolyne exclaimed. “He always makes sure to have plenty of food for when we cook together with Star!”

You smiled at the thought of this big, scary man preparing meals for his energetic little girl, with a bulky purple ghost helping him out. “That does sound lovely. Say,” You plucked a couple more ingredients from the fridge. “Would you like me to prepare some side dishes to go with your ramen?”

She tilted her head. “Won’t that take too long?”

“We can multitask together, Jolyne,” you said with a cheeky smile. “Because like your dad, I also have a friend who can help us with dinner.”

Jolyne’s eyes sparkled. “You do?!”

To show off to the little girl, you had your Stand simultaneously grab several items, utensils, and equipment with its many fabrics and let them hover around her. If you could recall correctly, to his daughter, Stands were invisible, so all she saw now were floating objects. She watched them fly about with childlike awe, her smile wide and infectious.

You chuckled and went over to the aprons you found hanging on the wall. “Ready to make a delicious bowl of ramen?” You handed her the smaller apron, and with renewed enthusiasm, she nodded with a determined smirk.

Over time, you two hustled and bustled around the kitchen, helping one another to put together a savory meal for both of you. While you did more of the heavier parts of the cooking, you taught and supervised the child with the lighter ones, and she was more than eager to listen, happy to just be involved. Silent Sanctuary assisted in handing you and Jolyne what was next in the recipe.

Of course, you weren’t one to make the scene settle into awkward silence. With a similar approach you used on Jotaro, you opened up a conversation topic that might trigger the young girl to start sharing her interests. At first, you talked about her favorites while preparing to simmer the broth and braise the pork belly. By the time you began plating the dish, it was Jolyne’s turn to open up about your work and what you did.

You entertained her questions and kept the conversation light and digestible for a child when talking about your job that involved catching bad guys with her father, all while you proceeded to do the side dishes next. She listened to your many stories with full interest, butting in at times to fire a multitude of questions.

By the time everything was done, Jolyne was more than happy to chow down on her dinner. And you watched the little girl scarf down your meal, making a mess on the table and on her face. You shook your head with fond amusement, grabbing a tissue to wipe everything down. “Well? How do you like my recipe?”

With stuffed cheeks, Jolyne spoke with glimmering eyes. “Yummy! Just as yummy as Papa’s!”

“That’s good to hear. If your father asks me to watch over you again, I can show you more dishes that taste like the ramen we made. Sounds good?” She nodded vigorously.

After swallowing, she wanted to talk more about your profession. “So, you mean the bad guys also have invisible friends to help them do all that bad stuff?”

You hummed in agreement. “That’s why your father and I have to work so hard to fight these people. Because getting rid of them makes the world feel safer for innocent civilians like you.”

“I want to be like you and Papa when I grow up!” Jolyne mimicked a boxer’s stance and jabbed the air once. Twice. Thrice. “It also sounds fun! I want to kick their butts and show them who’s boss!”

“Fighting these bad guys isn’t a game, Jolyne.” You grabbed another tissue to wipe her cheeks. “They’re dangerous and can cause big wounds. I may not mind it that much, but your father hates dealing with them because it’s that tiring.”

She puffed her cheeks again and furrowed her brows, her spirited determination flaring once more. “Then… I want to help him! I want to learn how to fight and help Papa so it’s not tiring!”

“Well,” You chuckled. “If you’re older and able to have a ghost friend to help you fight, then you can find me and I can take you under my wing and help you with that.”

The little girl widened her eyes and smiled widely. “Really?!”

“You have potential, young lady. With enough experience and exposure, I have no doubts you can do so much not only for yourself but for your father as well.” You huffed. “But then again, that’s only when you have a ghost friend. So, I can’t guarantee it would happen.”

“I’ll find a way!”

You smiled. “Of course you will.”

The rest of the evening was spent with the two engrossed in a non-stop conversation about each other’s lives. When Jotaro had told her that his daughter was too much of a curious kid, he wasn’t exaggerating. While watching her favorite shows and taking care of her, Jolyne would begin to open up more and more, wanting to know more about her father’s colleague and the job you and he found yourselves in.

She was a sweet child with a soul that yearned to explore the world, and you admired the young girl’s youthful energy. It wasn’t long until you grew fond of her, wishing nothing more than to help her reach her dreams and guide her along the way.

Likewise, Jolyne would grow a liking for you. You knew how to make delicious food, you were invested in her many ramblings, never once annoyed by the number of questions she’d ask, and she found you cool and fun to be with in general. And when you said about potentially returning to babysit her, she’d rather want you than some other babysitter.

Eventually, the night would come to a close, and you tucked Jolyne to bed after telling her one of your bedtime stories from memory, handing her favorite plush toy and drawing the sheet over her. “Do you sleep with the lamp on or off?”

“On…”

“Okay,” You said, gently brushing her hair. “Get some sleep. I’m sure your father will be here to make you breakfast when you wake up.”

“Can… you marry my Papa?”

You froze, your cheeks heating up as she muttered those words in her sleepy trance. “Huh?”

“Papa’s sad… when I’m not here… I don’t want him to be sad…”

You thought back to the times you spent with him post-case, where it was supposed to be two colleagues taking the load off their shoulders and unwind with a simple talk, and in the midst of all your talk with him, there was a consistent pattern of Jotaro purposely making his day job and personal life vague, often dismisses it even if the topic wasn’t being intrusive.

It wasn’t out of character for this man to do his work diligently, but there was something in the way he spoke about himself that sounded…defeated? Like he gave up on something he wanted when he was younger. You picked up on this, and his child did as well.

And as much as it shouldn’t be your problem, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to let your work partner wallow in self-imposed suffering.

But for Jolyne to ask a suggestion so casually caused you to reflect on yourself and your feelings towards your colleague. Was this whole support each other supposed to just be an obligation as partners? Or did you actually feel something for him? You had a genuine interest in the guy, found his subtle mannerisms and underlying values endearing, the times when he did smile and chuckle at your words sparked pride and joy in your conscience…

“I am your partner.” You had said that to him, and in the moment, you hadn’t thought too much of it, but in retrospect, you found out how that sounded more intimate than it should have. Just like the time he had offered to share the bed with you in the guise of practicality.

You turned back to Jolyne, who had fallen asleep during the entirety of your introspection, and sighed.

“We’ll see how all this will turn out, little one…”

---

One night. One night of undesirable circumstances was all that was needed to get some answers from him.

You finished yet another investigation and took him out to a quaint, rustic bar not too far from their target’s location. There weren’t many people occupying the area, except for the handful of loyal patrons and nomadic tourists who were in for exploring niche places. After battling with another non-compliant Stand user, both of you needed some peace of quiet.

The bartender stepped in to slide you both glasses and placed a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon red wine and a Jack Daniel’s whiskey for Jotaro. “I assume you can handle your liquor well, hm?”

He made a low sound as he poured himself a drink. “I’ve been making sure to dial down my alcohol nowadays and stick to caffeine. But… I did like beer during my youth.” He sighed. “Tonight? I just had to… pour myself one for now…” He took a shot.

You nodded, pouring for yourself as well. “During your youth, huh? Are we talking early 20s? Or I-hit-18-and-I’m-legal-to-drink-now age?”

Despite the tiredness in his eyes, his lips quirked up into a slight smirk. “A year before that…”

“Underage drinking?” You cocked a brow and sipped your drink. “How bold of you. Got curious?”

“Not really. It was mostly an act,” he said as he poured another shot. “I was a teenager. I had to look cool and so… did some rebellious crap that I stopped once I graduated: Be an asshole, smoke cigarettes, and drink beer to show off. That stuff…”

“You must have been a pain to everyone around you in your rebel days, huh?”

He kept his gaze on his glass and replied, “In a way, I still am.”

Your chest had a minor pang at that, but you kept that to yourself and held your head in your hand and looked at him, dubious. “Mm, doesn’t seem like it. Sure, you still got that menacing vibe around you, still stoic obviously, but in all honesty, you’re not all bad. You seemed mellowed out and definitely a better person than I.”

He scoffed and took another shot. “Shut it with the flattery.”

“It’s called a compliment, Kujo. Offering flattery isn’t in my dictionary,” you replied in that playful tone you’d use. “Here I thought you knew me already.”

“Oh? Was I supposed to study you, L/N?” You shrugged as you finished your first glass. “Are you implying that I should start analyzing my colleagues now?”

“Keep your friends close. Your enemies closer.”

“You’re not my enemy.”

You stared at him with mischief. “I might. You never know.”

He paused for a moment, and for the first time today, Jotaro huffed out a soft laugh. “Cheeky, but fine.” He shot another glass. “Since you’re so goddamn persistent, I’ll play your game.”

And it all snowballed from there. Unlike most instances of you being the instigator of your conversations, he was the one who asked the questions. You told your answers and hurled the question back at him. From one question would stem many more, and both of you would lose yourself in a night of GTKY and alcohol.

It hadn’t occurred to you immediately, but you hadn’t noticed that hours had passed until the bartender told you they were closing in 15 minutes. On your side of the counter was an empty bottle of red wine, and on his side were 2 empty Jack Daniel’s.

Jotaro leaned heavily on his elbow, holding his head that was on the verge of dropping face-first onto the counter. You furrowed your brows and lightly nudged his shoulder. “Hey, are you doing okay?” You always thought he could handle his alcohol just as you could, but his sluggish movements combined with the flushed cheeks told you otherwise.

“Okay?” He scoffed, smiling bitterly behind his hand. “Hardly. None of what I’m doing feels okay. Can’t even drink damn alcohol now. I’m just getting tired of it…”

“Oh my god, you’re drunk.” He shook his head, slurring something about how he wasn’t and he was just sleepy. You thanked the bartender for his services and stood to approach your colleague. “Alright, big guy. Let’s get you back to your place.”

You managed to get a good grasp on his arm and, with some effort, not crumble to the floor as you hauled him off the bar stool and on unsteady feet. His arm remained slung over your shoulders, his head lolling to the side and hanging low. “I need you to cooperate with me here.”

“Why bother helping me?” He said, groggily. “I can go home by myself…”

“Ahuh. Sure, you can.” You fumbled around in his pockets until you fished out his car keys. “I’m driving, though.”

You half-dragged Jotaro out of the bar and out onto the sidewalk where his car was parked nearby. He stumbled along with you, often wobbling to the side and occasionally pulling you with him due to his weight. He continued to slur out complaints and proclamations about how he was fine, that he just felt sleepy, and he could drive fine.

“Don’t be stupid, Kujo. You gulped down more whiskey than you intended. You’re drunk and I’m not.” You heaved and readjusted his arm around your shoulder. “It’s obvious who should be behind the wheel tonight.”

“I can do everything by myself!” He said, his muddled voice rising with tired frustration. “I’ve always handled my shit alone! Leave me!”

You sighed. “We’ve talked about this months ago. No backing out of an agreement now.”

“I don’t want to burden you…” You stopped in your tracks and turned to him. His head still hung low, cheeks flushed red. “All this Stand bullshit is all his fault. All my fault. I should fix it. I need to fix it…”

“Hey…”

Jotaro raised his head to look at you with squinted eyes and tight brows. “And I don’t know how. Isn’t that a fucking joke?” He laughed an empty laugh, his head leaning heavily on your shoulder. “My successes and for what? More stress? More attention? More ruined relationships? I can’t even be with my own daughter properly without my day job draining all my spare time down the drain.”

“And who needs friends when they all just leave and die in the end?” You stayed silent as he continued, his ironic chuckles now bordering on despairing sobs. Not quite on the latter yet, but even then… it still hurts to hear. He pressed his cheek to your shoulder and smiled at you with dull, wet eyes. “You chose to be with me and now tell me- when will you leave for greater things, or better yet… when will you die, hm? ‘Cause I’ll still be here, just ready to soak up all these bullshit feelings.”

Despite the uncharacteristically excessive and pessimistic talk, you knew there was no insult to his drunken speech. You knew what you were capable of, and your Stand’s primary ability prevented you from suffering any injury, and Jotaro knew that too. He wouldn’t have agreed to continue partnering with you.

When will you leave? When will you die? It was as if he was already bracing himself for the inevitable to lessen the pain. To expect the worst so he wouldn’t get his hopes up and get hurt when it comes.

He lazily pulled his head away from your shoulder and hung it low again. “Now, if you really want eff… effa… efficiency, you should just ditch me… and work on other projects-”

“Shut up and get in the car.” You didn’t know when you started walking while he continued to ramble into the night, but you did and found yourself standing beside his car. You opened the passenger’s door and nudged him to get in.

“I can-” You hissed at him, and he nodded. “Okay…” He begrudgingly stepped into the vehicle, bumping his head a little by accident on the car roof, and you closed it after he settled in. You walked around, entered the driver’s seat, started the ignition, and drove off.

The road back to his place was silent. You chose to keep the radio silent, thinking it might just irritate him. Throughout the trip, he remained slumped on the car door, half-asleep and the other half gazing out the window to watch the world pass by them under the evening sky.

Once you arrived, you parked the car accordingly and got off. You made quick work pulling the drunken man out of the passenger’s seat and dragging his ass through his front door. Struggling to get both your shoes off was one thing; getting him up the stairs was another challenge in itself. Eventually, you managed to reach his bedroom and dropped him onto the sheets. He went down easily enough like a toppled, semi-conscious tree log.

You exhaled a sigh of relief that you got to deliver him back to his room in one piece, but you didn’t know what to do next. Should you just leave him be? Or make sure he was comfortable enough? He groaned and used whatever energy he had left to rub his eyes, grimacing from how shitty he must be feeling.

Next thing you knew, you had already made up your mind. You rearranged his body and limbs so he lay properly with his head on the pillow and his feet on the foot of the bed. You paused in your caregiving and took a seat on the edge, sparing a few seconds to just watch him.

Jotaro might as well be already asleep by the time you get him on the pillows. You didn’t know the exact details of what you thought, but there was something about how he seemed more vulnerable when he was in his slumber. There was no trace of that stoicism he always had on, nor any of the more focused or sharp aspects that made him professional.

Instead, in his vulnerability, there was the defeat- his relaxed brows, the shadows under his eyes, the sad tilt of his lip, the subtle glint of a tear or two in his lashes. “How much did you have to suffer…? Since 17?” Your heart ached for the man whose life changed for the worse, where his attempts to make it seem normal just didn’t work. “You never wanted to be a part of this, huh?”

Without realizing it, you reached forward to brush aside the short curls off his forehead. “If you’d let me, I’d take over most if not all of your cases. Use the time for yourself.” He furrowed his brows and leaned his head into your hand. With a newfound sense of worry, you softly pet his hair. “You don’t have to shoulder everything on your own…”

Of course, he was asleep. He couldn’t have heard you. And he was still in his work clothes, which must be uncomfortable to sleep in. You leaned forward to lift his upper body so you could take off his white coat. And you did just that and pulled him up to lean him against you.

However, as you pulled the coat down to his biceps, you stiffened as his arms encircled you in a warm embrace, and his face buried itself on your shoulder. “K-Kujo! What are you-”

“You… mean that…?” He mumbled. “You’d… help me… that much?”

Your eyes softened. “When have I ever lied?”

“We’re partners… who got each other’s backs…” He gently tightened his arms around you and nuzzled closer to your neck, needing comfort. “Being your partner… was the best decision I ever made… in this new life…”

The tension in your body left, leaving only an immense amount of empathy and fondness for him. You returned his hug with a hand around his back, and the other cradling his head. He sighed shakily at the reciprocation. “I’m sorry… for being selfish… but… please…” He whispered. “Don’t leave me… alone…”

“I won’t…” You pressed your cheek on his and held him tighter, combing through his curls. “You know I won’t…”

As if he were reassured, his arms dropped limp onto the sheets, and his breathing evened out. You glanced down at him and confirmed that he had passed out. You returned to your task and pulled the coat off his body, and with that done, you eased him back on the sheets, got him comfortable, and drew the duvet over him.

“You’re lucky I like you,” you said under your breath. “Otherwise, I would’ve just dropped you off and left. You know that, right?” Jotaro remained asleep, turning his head slightly to the side. You contemplated what to do next as you kept watching over him, idly petting his hair.

An idea struck, and it was an impulsive one. But you already said you liked him. Was it that impulsive? What’s this going to matter anyway?

You stood and bent down, getting close to face. You gently cupped his cheek and thumbed the skin before leaning down to press a soft kiss on his forehead. He didn’t respond, obviously, but your heart did. Once you slowly withdrew, your heartbeat thundered in your chest, and your cheeks significantly grew three times warmer.

A hushed curse fled your lips. “Oh my god, what am I doing?” You stepped back and walked over to his drawers to find the nearest pen and paper. Keeping it short with a few words, you left the note on his nightstand before taking your leave and letting him rest.

Something came to mind just then. At that, you glanced one more time at him before heading out to do one more thing for him when he wakes tomorrow, already getting the pen and paper for a new note.

---

Jotaro woke up to a splitting headache.

Other than catching the Stand user red-handed and going out with you on one of your dine-outs, he could not for the life of him recall what happened last night. One moment he’s invested in talking with you on the topic of shorelines, and the next, he’s sitting upright on his bed in the same clothes with a throbbing head.

But it occurred to him that you were also there to witness whatever the fuck he had done during his lapse of memory. He held his face, groaning as his cheeks warmed at the thought of your fellow no-nonsense colleague watching him act out without inhibition.

“Good fucking grief…” He tossed his legs over the edge of the bed, and before he could stand, the savory aroma that wafted into his nose and the neon yellow sticky note standing out on his nightstand grabbed his attention. Looking over at it, the note was stuck onto a covered bowl of… soup? Sitting beside it was a spoon and a bottle of water.

He plucked the paper off the lid and read:

Rise and shine, lightweight!

I’ll have you know you were heavy as hell when I dragged you back here.

And no, you didn’t embarrass yourself in front of me. That’s if “being cute and sleepy” isn’t embarrassing.

Anyway, I left some hangover soup and something to hydrate yourself with. Just heat it when you wake.

I’ll drop by sometime tomorrow for updates, but in the meantime, take the time to freshen up.

Y/N

That warmth in his face intensified after reading it, setting the note aside and holding his face with both hands. “Cute and sleepy…” He scoffed. I shouldn’t have drunk that much whiskey. Never drink with others again, Kujo. Stick to caffeine.

Jotaro reached for the bowl and uncovered the lid, revealing a nicely made homemade beef broth soup. Even though the contents had turned lukewarm from being left overnight, it still smelled good. He grabbed the spoon and took a sip of the dish, and a soft moan was made.

Damn. It tasted good too, and to think that you made this for him? Jotaro’s cheeks would remain heated throughout breakfast.

He got into his morning routine right after he finished heating the soup and consuming all of it in a few minutes. He brushed, showered, got into new clothes, and stepped into his office to accomplish some pending tasks yet to finish for the upcoming research program.

Though he couldn’t fully focus on his work when all he could think about was not only the headache mildly being a nuisance, but also you.

He lost count of how many times he’d stopped writing or typing the second his brain flashed him a memory of you smiling at that bar, chuckling at an unintentional one-line he uttered with the faint blush on your cheeks, or you caging his bigger body against the wall earlier that day to protect him from an incoming projectile, or when you gazed at him under the dim moonlight of that motel room as you lay beside him on that bed-

He put down his pen for the nth time and leaned back on his chair, palming his heated face in frustration. It didn’t help that his heart would start to run a marathon at the mere thought of your snarky and unbothered banters, your face that had the right amount of audacity, and the number of your genuine caregiving gestures that never failed to set the butterflies in his stomach aflutter. “I am your partner.”

And you planned to visit him again within the day. How the hell is he supposed to compose himself when his feelings for you have gone awry?

With the devil’s timing, the doorbell rang in the middle of his attempt to get himself together. He schooled himself into nonchalance and headed to the front door, bracing for whatever physiological effect his body would brew at the sight of you on his doorstep.

Jotaro opened the door, and you greeted him with that smile that bordered on a smirk and a small wave. “Hey,” The butterflies flew wildly almost immediately, and his chest was on the verge of bursting. Yet his face remained neutral, save for the faint blush on his cheeks.

“L/N… You’re here.”

“I did say I’ll be dropping by today,” you said as you pulled out three folders from behind your back. “With updates. Remember? Unless you completely missed my note, then surprise! We have updates.”

“No. I got your note… and the soup.” He opened the door wider and stepped aside. “We should discuss this inside.”

You nodded and took off your shoes before entering his home. “By the way, how’s the hangover? Was it as bad as I assumed?”

He followed you into the dining room, tipping his hat over his face. “It’s nothing new, but it’s painful as hell. I can still feel it until now,” Jotaro grumbled and continued with heated cheeks. “But the soup helped… if that’s what you wanted to hear.”

“Just as I thought. I brought you a hangover relief drink to help with the lingering aches.” You placed the folders on the dining table and pulled out a small glass bottle with white and orange labeling from your bag. “This is newly imported, by the way. So, the effects should be at their best.”

Jotaro swallowed and nodded, reaching over to get it off your hand without looking at you for long. He gestured for you to take a seat, and out of the many empty seats, you settled for the one that was adjacent to him. To be fair, it wasn’t that close to him, but it was the nearest.

He fixed you a serving of the tea he had left in his cabinet, and you began detailing all the progress notes the Foundation had sent about the caught Stand users and their Stands- From how they reacted when they woke up in confinement, to present user background, down to what their choice was moving forward after being apprehended.

Unfortunately for Jotaro, he was still hung up on his newfound realization that he felt some way or another toward you like a dam of denial and denseness had been demolished. While he did listen to every piece of information you said, he’d chalked up half of his attention to the way you spoke with dedicated professionalism and the way your eyes glinted and lips smirked whenever you were pleased sharing a piece of intel.

His body’s physiological state is going haywire yet again, and his head throbbed. He uncapped the hangover cure and drank the tonic in a feeble attempt to distract himself from the irritating ache and his thoughts. And if it couldn’t get any worse, he drank too fast and ended up choking in front of you.

“Woah, hey now. You okay?”

Jotaro coughed behind his hand and nodded, waving a hand to dismiss your concerns. “F-Fine. Just choked is all.”

You chuckled and closed the folder to set aside. “Maybe slow down when drinking any other beverage that’s not water. That technique always helps prevent another choking episode.”

His cheeks flared. “I know that. I’m not stupid, L/N,” he said and cleared his throat. “I was… busy thinking.”

“Busy thinking?” You smirked, leaning on your elbow with your head in your hand. “Or distracted with something else?” Jotaro glared at you and grumbled to himself. “About last night, perhaps?” That… and the many other things about you. None of that was said, but did he even have to when you already knew?

At his self-imposed frustration and bashfulness, your teasing smirk softened into a smile. “Believe me when I say you didn’t do anything stupid last night. Well, to me at least. If anything, I felt privileged when you showed me a window into who the man responsible for DIO’s defeat was. A sneak peek into who Jotaro Kujo is now.”

He remained silent, watching you with a somewhat touched expression on his face. “And I found that brief moment of vulnerability fascinating and worth knowing.” His heart raced a million miles per hour the more you shared your thoughts. The playful gleam was still in your eyes when you continued. “There was nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I…You…” Jotaro was at a loss for words. What could he say? You telling him this was enough for him to shy away from your gaze in a mess of tinted cheeks. He’s aware of what he needs behind the walls of nonchalance and outward strength, and for you to learn said needs because of several shots of whiskey?

It was almost overwhelming. “You were never meant to know all that. They’re just… wishful thoughts.”

“And what if I said I can help make those thoughts real?”

He paused and stared at you with surprise. “What… what do you mean?”

“Let me rephrase that.” You sipped the warm tea and set it down, your smile still on. “I’ve said we’re work partners, and that we should always have each other’s backs, through thick and thin. Even if we met under ordinary circumstances unrelated to work, I think I’d still hold the same sentiment toward you.”

“Your reservation and stoicism can be frustrating, yes. But looking past that,” You swirled the half-full cup and tilted your head to him. “You are a delight to be with, in all your subtle acts of service, sudden bouts of humor, and fierce loyalty to those you hold dear.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I like you, Jotaro Kujo, and if you allow it, I’d want to get to know you more.”

His eyes widened. All air had left his lungs from your casual confession, blood rushing to his cheeks as every organ in his body went into ecstatic overdrive.

He genuinely had nothing to say, stunned to silence. He had spent the entire morning- no, the past few months battling with his feelings about whether to act on his pining toward you, or toss it away so you wouldn’t feel obligated to tolerate the dangers that came from being with him.

Every moment of overthinking, insecurity, and unwarranted pining… washed away with that simple sentence.

At his lack of response, you chuckled. “Cat got your tongue?”

“I… ah…”

“Here… let’s put it this way then. How about, for one time, I take you out somewhere nice for dinner? Then you can decide if you want to continue our partnership,” you said, just like the first time he had met you. “Sound good?”

“Good grief. Here I thought I’d be the one initiating, but…” From the depths of his heart, his lips curled into a smile, and he softly laughed behind his hand. “Always the professional, even when asking me out on a date, huh?”

You laughed with him, a faint pink tint blooming in your cheeks. “Old habits die hard. You don’t seem to mind though.”

He shook his head. “No… I don’t.”

You held out a hand to him, your palm open for him to hold. “Well? I’m still waiting.”

Jotaro looked at your hand for a minute. There were still parts of his mind that kept whispering to him about being a burden to you and how he’d only be led to more suffering when the inevitable threats would strike you down. But your determined eyes and the passionate fire held within them responded to his anxieties with a firm:

“I can handle it. Trust me and I’ll protect us.”

At that, he huffed and smiled as he reached forward to hold your hand, his chest surprisingly light. “I didn’t regret accepting to be your colleague. I don’t think I’ll regret this either.”

“Then…” You smiled and gently held his hand with both of yours. “I’m looking forward to being your partner, Jotaro.”

He returned the sentiment with a smile and nodded once. “Likewise, Y/N.”

[king-lears-fool]

After getting to stew on it for a week, I have some Mastermind thoughts. Crucially, I was SHOCKED in the Mastermind song when Stolitz became canon. Like, so soon?!

I think it's been interesting to see the portrayal of Stolitz from both perspectives over time, now that it's (semi-)canon. Frankly, my first draft of this post was just shitting on the portrayal of Blitzø falling in love with Stolas. And while I do think my initial views still hold merit, I did manage to talk my way out of it.

For Stolas, we have been really clearly able to see how and why he fell for Blitzø. He was his first friend, who then gave him an orgasm so good it caused him to grow a spine. Initially, it was just about sex, with the book as payment (because why would Blitzø come of his own accord?). But Stolas' admiration for Blitzø showed him he has the power to take agency over his own fate.

But for Blitzø, most of the moments showing Blitzø being into Stolas have been pretty blink-and-you’ll-miss-it (e.g. in Truth Seekers and Seeing Stars). The best exception is in Oops, where he literally lists everything that he likes about him as though they're bad things. Of course, it’s because of his self-hatred and all that, but I don’t think it was established well enough at all.

From my perspective, Apology Tour and (especially) Ghostfuckers was important for Blitzø to realise that he does actually love Stolas, and would have wanted a relationship with him. He seriously had not thought about it before the events of Full Moon. He could only admit he had fallen for Stolas when it was already too late.

Up until that point, he had been insisting on calling Stolas nothing but a "rich asshole" who looks down on imps. Recall, the “transactional fucking” line in Western Energy, that scene in Oops again. Like, anyone who knows him can tell that it’s bullshit, but from a writing perspective I really don’t think that was enough.

And I think that’s what’s gonna be interesting to see next season. Only in the last 3 episodes have we seen Blitzø openly caring for Stolas. Blitzø has historically fumbled every opportunity to show real interest in him, and while he is trying to change, that doesn’t happen overnight. I’m not sure if Stolas will be ready to believe/accept Blitzø’s feelings, and Blitzø doesn’t really know how to do relationships. The turnaround from the breakup was pretty fast. We saw how badly both of them took it, and they’ve addressed two of its causes (Stolas putting Blitzø on a pedestal, and Blitzø refusing to let others get too close)… to the audience. WE know they’ve each grown, but the other doesn’t.

I doubt their relationship will go smoothly at all. They still don’t really know how to communicate, they haven’t addressed what went wrong before, and Blitzø will have to see Stolas’ depression now that they live together (etc etc). I’m not sure if they’re ready for this at all, and rather circumstances thrust them into this situation. And honestly? I’m really excited to see how the show handles it!

[alice-after-dark]

A Dark Web Romance (Concept)

Just a fun concept that has been sitting in my drafts for a while.

@hiemaldesirae hope you feel better :)

TW for violence, abusive relationships, vaguely implied sexual abuse, cannibalism, gore, murder, implied NSFT, and other canon-typical triggers. Contains abusive StaticMoth.

Vincent Haynes, who goes by the online name "Vox," is an elite hacker who makes his money on the Dark Web doing jobs for the worst of the worst. It is through this work that he becomes acquainted with a user known as TheRadioDemon, a cannibalistic serial killer who hosts a podcast. Vox has never missed a show since discovering him and has developed a crush on the man. Sure, he may not have any interest in which parts of the human body are best suited for a stew, but he is more than willing to listen to that gorgeous voice explain it to him in graphic detail while he carves said flesh off his screaming victim.

When the host expresses difficulty with his website, Vox jumps at the opportunity and soon the two are exchanging private messages daily, even long after the problem has been fixed.

One day months later he meets Alastor Bourreau, a new resident in their apartment complex who has moved into the apartment across from Vox. Hailing from New Orleans, he has come to New York City for a change of scenery, a "change of flavor" as he puts it.

There is something...familiar about the man, but Vox can't put his finger on it.

Vox and Alastor become fast friends, something Vox's boyfriend, a jealous and unstable pimp named Valentino, does not approve of. Their relationship began after Valentino hired Vox to do some work for his snuff website and now Vox is trapped in Valentino's never ending cycle of love-bombing and abuse. He is too scared to leave the pimp, knowing full well that Valentino could have him killed if he wanted to.

He expresses these fears to TheRadioDemon during their nightly chat after a particularly bad fight that leaves Vox with two broken ribs and a sprained wrist.

And suddenly Valentino stops calling him. He stops showing up at his apartment unannounced over some perceived slight or another. He stops contacting him altogether. It's strange and confusing and Vox doesn't know what to make of it. Valentino won't answer his calls. In fact, they all go straight to voicemail until finally the inbox is full and he can't leave any more.

He decides Valentino is probably on another one of his binges and that he'll hear from him eventually.

But he doesn't. What he gets instead is a link to a livestream sent to him from TheRadioDemon. That's...strange. TheRadioDemon has never been a visual person, always sticking to his podcast format. Still, he clicks on it without hesitation.

Front and center is Valentino.

The man is strapped into a medical chair with his chest cut wide open. Vox can see the rise and fall of the man's lungs. A message pops into his inbox.

Do you like it, darling? He broke your ribs, so I took his. I also took the liberty of removing that foul tongue of his.

Another message.

What should I take next?

Vox already knows what he wants before the question even comes.

Cut off his fucking dick.

It's three hours before the video ends, the main chat alight with suggestions and comments. The video goes dark every time TheRadioDemon acts, broadcasting Valentino's agonized gurgles and wails and cutting back on to reveal the new damage done. Vox says no more, simply sits back and watches the show.

He is only half watching Valentino though. Instead, his gaze is constantly being drawn to the small red fawn plush sitting on the metal table, starkly innocent beside the bloodied instruments of torture and placed so purposefully.

He knows that plush. He bought that plush.

Moments after stream ends finds him in front of Alastor's door. He's barely had time to knock when it opens and he is yanked inside and subsequently slammed up against the door and kissed.

"I was so hoping you'd catch on," Alastor mumbles against his lips. "I've had my eyes on you ever since you first tuned into my broadcast. I could hardly contain myself when I finally found you. You looked so delicious."

Vox isn't sure if he means that literally or figuratively and he doesn't care. It might be both. It's probably both. He's okay with that.

[theamityelf]

If you don't mind do you have any hinaegi (makoto naegi x hajime hinata) cute/suggestive headcanons? 👉👈

Definitely!

Makoto is more into physical affection than Hajime. Under normal circumstances, he's initiating any hand-holding, hugs, kisses, etc. Hajime blushes but enjoys it.

When Hajime initiates physical affection, it's usually because something Happened. Like, when Makoto has been in danger or has gotten hurt, that's often when Hajime will be the one to initiate hugs or kisses. He hugs longer and tighter than Makoto.

Hajime really likes dorm-sharing. Makoto can take or leave it, since he doesn't think much about the main course vs. reserve course thing, and also Taka vocally disapproves of sleeping in someone else's dorm, but Hajime likes it when Makoto invites him to his dorm, or vice versa. If/when he overcomes his own insecurity about being reserve course, he likes for his classmates to see his boyfriend coming in and out of his room, and he likes that Makoto's main course classmates know him and treat him being in their dorm building as natural. Like he belongs there.

They give each other gifts all the time.

Hajime helps Makoto with schoolwork often; in group settings, Makoto makes frequent casual mentions of how smart Hajime is. It makes Hajime blush, but also he really likes being talked up around all these Ultimates without a hint of irony or self-consciousness. Makoto takes it as a given that everyone should know how cool his reserve course boyfriend is.

While Hajime helps Makoto with schoolwork by helping him go over things and learn, Makoto helps Hajime with schoolwork by helping him manage his stress and just generally reminding him that there's a world outside of this success or failure.

I've said this before, but some of Makoto's classmates who have a crush on Makoto are hostile to Hajime with varying degrees of subtlety. Makoto doesn't notice, but Hajime does. And in the case where he overcomes his feelings of insecurity, he feels lowkey smug about it. Suck it, Togami! He's mine!

Hajime gradually goes from preferring to hang out around Makoto's Ultimate classmates, to feel like a part of what they are, to preferring for Makoto to hang out around the reserve course because it turns out Ultimates are NUTS and those people are going to get him killed!

Where, in the Naehara book club storyline, Shuichi has a kind of stewing distrust and resentment toward Makoto's friends that he addresses to Makoto but not the people themselves, Hajime is vocally dismayed and openly runs interference whenever any of the Ultimates try to pull Makoto aside for something suspicious or ill-advised.

Mondo: Hey, Makoto, can we talk for a minute? Hajime: About what?

(Some of Makoto's classmates start to refer to Hajime as Makoto's secretary. Like, "Let's see if his secretary lets you get an audience with him.")

(Most of Makoto's classmates don't have a problem with Hajime, though. Most of them treat him normally and think the whole thing is kind of cute.)

Byakuya: Makoto, with me. We need to have a chat. Hajime: We're having lunch. What do you want? Byakuya: It's a main course thing. You wouldn't understand. Hajime: If it's a main course thing, then it sounds like you have plenty of classmates to choose from. Go talk to one of them. (cue continued snark from both parties until Makoto finishes chewing his food and interrupts them)

Edit: I could have sworn I removed the sentence "Makoto doesn't notice, but Hajime does." in the drafting process, because after I wrote it I thought it might be an insult to Makoto's social intelligence, but I guess I didn't save that change. And I won't remove it now, lest I seem to be revising history, but let it be known I rescind that sentence.

[skyddish]

choosing which Aaron HC i think is better-

Because it could be , despite Aaron's dreams to become a neurosurgeon, it's near impossible for him to retain information. Because of this he's never not thinking about what he's studying, spends hours and hours at the library, and prerecords lectures, playing them in his headphones like a podcast , Because class is not enough if he doesn't. he could always have his belongings misplaced, hardly able to read, and notoriously cannot plan for shhhittttt. Everyone's biggest pet peeve is that he's SOooooo time blind . (clock UNSEEN!)

When they have to be ready for something *importanttt* the monsters alr know they have to LIE. Colombia at 9:00? No. Colombia at 7:00. He's the only one unable to plan around this flaw– somehow everyone else knows exactly what time to tell him to be ready by and he's good to go. and part of him hates them for lying to him but also hates that they have to. He finally has to put a stop to it when Neil catches on. Aaron is fine totally fine being called out by Kevin, but he will drop out before Neil can lecture him on time management.

Despite all this— he's dedicated to being a doctor and he's extremely hard on himself in order to create routines that work for him because neuroscience makes him happy, and the burnout will be worth it eventually.

OR: his memory is exactly like Andrew's. Especially since the bonus content came out i feel like this is the more probable outcome. He doesn't breeze through his subjects by any means —(remembering all the facts doesn't mean you know how to apply them) but he has a lot more free time because as long as he pays attention his memory is perfect. This is the Aaron i'd most likely ship with Kevin. I think he wouldn't Know how good his memory is, or he'd just think everyone's brain works the same way his does. Aaron asks, "are you slow?" at least three times a week.

this has less comedic potential in my mind, and also i'm kind of fond of Andrew taking all the memory and leaving Aaron with some type of deficit in the brain cell department — but this has been stewing in my drafts so if i don't post it now it'll never see the light of day

[the-way-astray]

what are your thoughts on the Vackers?

you know, i really do have too many thoughts on them. that's why this is like. months late. this has been stewing in my drafts for so long, it's about time i released it. also, this is more of a headcanons list than an analysis. sorry, anon

i won't talk about aldella here because i already have way too many posts about them. as for everything else . . .

general vacker stuff:

they are all so tired from the pressure but they hide it well

more than a few vackers are pressured into doing the elite levels and joining the nobility even when they don't want to

vacker family gatherings are like "so, what did you get on your level seven midterms? do you want to be a mentor or regent? do you want to be a councillor or just an emissary, which is also fine because then you can have kids! more vackers, yippee. oh, what's that? you want to do art? and stay single? oh."

there have definitely been vacker twins and triplets, their parents just hide it the way tam and linh's parents tried to, except successfully

there has been one (1) pyrokinetic vacker. one. they were wiped from the history books and nobody remembers them. they're ancient now, so they barely leave the home, so that helps them fly under the radar, as well. even most other vackers don't know of their existence

being a vacker is like. i was born with a crown on my head. but it forced me down a path that i may or may not want. while everyone looks on in jealousy because they think i have it easy. but it's not

the vacker accent isn't natural. it's taught and learned from a very young age. fallon vacker started the trend when he was a councillor, and ever since then vackers have mimicked it because they're scared of seeming fake, and because it makes them feel more close to their family, or rather, the glaring spotlight their family's under (this is sort of canon-compliant: della has a hint of the accent, even though she's not a vacker by birth)

marrying a vacker is giving up your privacy forever and ever. you will never not be talked about again (think what happened at alden and della's wedding. that was over thirty years ago. imagine if i was still gossiping about the end of the cold war to this day)

once you "become" a vacker through marriage, you're held to a strict, somewhat arbitrary standard, where it's just like. nothing is ever enough. ever. you have to be an emissary or a mentor. if you get there, then you have to be the best emissary or mentor. being married to a vacker is arguably worse than growing up a vacker in that regard

many a vacker have wanted to be in a relationship that would be considered a bad match. but they don't do it. they stay officially single, but they do continue to date the person behind society's back. this is not uncommon, regardless of what the general public wants to believe

(i have three vacker ocs. not going to talk about them here. if you want additional details, ask me)

some thoughts on the main vacker family:

alden manifested late. like really late. like sixteen. and he was terrified that he would end up not manifesting at all and kids were whispering about him and he had like. daily panic attacks

when he finally manifested, he swore that he would be better than everyone else, so he trained twice as hard and kept it up through adulthood, which is the real reason he's such a good telepath

his mom always told him that his ability manifested late because it was twice as powerful, which he tried to believe

he met quinlin on a noble assignment

della definitely has days where she feels weird about being a century younger than alden

also she felt like she had to "prove" that she was worthy of marrying a vacker, which is why she knows so much random trivia about them

also she constantly refers to herself as a vacker because she feels like it needs to be advertised. like she doesn't belong enough if she doesn't make it twice as clear. but in reality she feels insecure about it

once she started dating alden, she felt like she couldn't stop because then there would be gossip about them

biana always felt like she'd never match up to fitz because he was the perfect child

so when she manifested before him and also got her nexus off before him, it felt like a reminder that she was worthy, which is why she talked about it so much

alden and della are actually good parents despite their own crumbling relationship

they act more like co-parents than partners

before fitz manifested, when he was the weird kid, it bothered him so much because he was a vacker and he felt he should be better than that

so he tried hard to be cool. but it never really worked until he manifested. then suddenly everyone loved him. because of that, he clung to his early manifesting as a sign of his worth, which is why he talked about it so much

he met keefe when they were both ditching (shut up. fitz definitely ditched a few times. i know it in my soul)

he thought keefe was weird so they weren't immediately friends but they kept running into each other so it was like. oh, well

(MY OWN PERSONAL HEADCANON, NOT CANON) while fitz's crush on sophie was real and sweet, it was at least partly subconsciously because he felt like he could only have interest in girls with powerful abilities, not because he was ever explicitly told that but because the society he was raised in told him he was only good for making kids with powerful abilities

this wreaked havoc on his self-esteem and he went into a spiral at around age 11/12 where he tried to find a life for himself as a sort of childlike way of "proving" to himself that he was someone even without an ability (this was before he manifested)

this is when he started to bake. which he was taught by alvar. which is how they ended up so close

he loved baking and surprising absolutely nobody, it became his emotional crutch because whenever he went into a negative spiral, he remembered how when he was 11/12, his way of furiously proving he had worth was to bake. so he did

then he manifested at thirteen and he clung to it. because it proved he did have worth. so that's the other reason

biana and stina used to be friends. like, really, really close friends

this is why biana isn't weird about being a bad match. because she (and stina) knew deep down that stina should be the kid of a bad match, but they never talked about it

they fell out because biana didn't like the way stina took out her frustration on other bad match kids

this is why maruca went to stina after falling out with biana. it made the hurt double

that's it for now. may come back with a part two

[artemis-73]

Suptober Day 14: Fave Episode

"…I need you to keep the faith, for both of us. ‘Cause right now, I… Right now, I don’t believe in a damn thing," Dean says, heartbroken eyes glimmering with tears.

Chuck hits pause. The shot holds on a closeup of Dean, so obviously changed by everything he's lost. With a thought, the lights in the movie theatre raise. "A perfect ending to the episode, right? All of Dean's angst and pain and suffering stewing in what was once a hopeful, bright-eyed and bushytailed kid. Him needing to lean on Sam. You love that, right?"

Becky hasn't moved. She's staring up at the screen with tears in her eyes. She looks back at Chuck. "What… No! What happens next? Does Cas come back? Does Mary?"

There's satisfaction in knowing that she's hooked on the story, even if she's being a little pushier than he'd like and is focused on all the wrong things. "Who cares? Mary's resurrection was Amara's failed experiment. I love my sister, but she's got no instinct for what makes a good story. And Cas? Cas should've been gone years ago. It's time for Dean to get over it. He's in the Empty, which is where he'll stay. Think of it as the cutting room floor. I can't see them; they can't see me. Come on. Let's focus on what matters: Lucifer's kid, huh? That's a fun villain."

Becky swipes at her eyes with shaking hands. "Jack?" she asks. "He's just a kid. He hasn't done anything wrong. He seems to really care about Cas, too. Maybe he can help Sam and Dean get Cas back."

"Enough about Cas!" The lights flicker, and the theater shakes. Chuck wishes he could find anyone else to be a part of his focus group, but Becky's the only one he can trust with all the lore. Sure, he doesn't always listen, but he has to know the rules before he can break them. "Now, Cas is gone for good. So let's talk about my outline for the rest of the season—"

"Wait," Becky interrupts, always so inconsiderate. "There's still a minute left in the episode."

Chuck whirls to face the screen. His little outburst must have jolted the electrical because below Dean's devastated face is the scrub bar with the episode length. It should only have a couple of seconds left, after all, there's no need for credits during a private screening with the Creator. Chuck is sure that when he cut the episode together, this was the last shot he chose.

But there's a still a minute and change left.

He scrambles for the remote. He has to know, even though he dreads what comes next. It has to be Amara. It has to be.

Dean's face twitches into action as he breaths raggedly for another second. Then it cuts to a shot of Castiel lying in a field. A familiar field.

"No, no, no, NO! I cut the meadow. I cut Dean spreading his ashes, and I cut Castiel."

Castiel stands in the sun, his smiling face tilted toward the sun, and then the episode ends, and the screen goes black. In the silence that follows, Chuck seethes. Bringing Cas back from the Empty would've taken some serious mojo. More than anyone but Amara has, but Amara doesn't care about the angel. She doesn't care about Dean, really. She wouldn't intervene. Maybe to spite—

"Jack," he breathes. He remembers the last episode when Jack overheard Sam and Dean's big knockdown drag out, and his eyes had glowed golden, and he'd said Castiel's name right before the episode ended. "It's impossible. He can't be that powerful already."

"Wait, so Jack saved his dad?" Becky is beaming because she has no taste.

"Shut up." Chuck snaps his fingers and sends her back to her boring life. He'll need to work through a couple drafts before bringing her back. He'd hoped for more time to pick her brain before wiping it again, but he has so much work to do.

Step One: Get rid of Jack.

Step Two: Get rid of Castiel.

[squarebracket-trickster]

9 People you want to know better

Huge thank you to uhhh *checks drafts* @words-after-midnight - their post here, @bluberimufim - her post here, @touloserlautrec - his/their post here

Currently reading: City of Bones by Cassie Clare. I never read it during it's peak when I was literally the right age demographic and I feel like I missed out. It's not the strongest writing in the world but I am enjoying it so far. It's been interesting to go back and reread a bunch of "older" YA - like pre-2016-ish. There is so much more filler, banter, character moments than in the post-2016 stuff, especially post-2019. Like it was right around that time that publishing shifted to the "everything has to advance the plot and be super fast paced" mentality. And tbh... I like the old stuff better. It spawned larger fandoms with more staying power - I mean, how many post-2019 booktok popular books have more than 100 fanfics on AO3? I think I'm not the only one who misses the slower, more character focused YA.

Last song I listened to: Avril Lavine's Keep Holding On was on the radio while I was driving home from work. 10 year-old me knew all the words. 20-something me still does.

Currently watching: I haven't watched any TV or movies is so long oh my gosh. But! I did go see murder mystery play with my friend last Friday night!

Current fic I'm reading: [do I confess to having a secret whump blog here? My anxiety is pretty bad rn. Which means I have been devouring and regurgitating whump like no tomorrow. I have read and written so much holy]

Current hyperfixation (changed from obsession because I don't use that language. I do, however, have ADHD): yeah... uhhh... whump.

Favourite colour: Green, specifically the shade of the underside of a maple leaf caught in the sun. But I am also very partial to any rich blue or pink.

Spicy, sweet, savory, or salty? A little bit of everything. I like it when dishes are made with really high-quality ingredients that speak for themselves and don't need to be disguised with sugar, spices, or salt.

Relationship status: *cries in single* where meet men in my city????

Last thing I Googled: hypothermia whump... yeah... (also apparently I googled the word lapel to make sure it meant exactly what I thought it meant)

Song stuck in my head: OH I am the QUEEN of getting shit stuck in my head! I once had "In Flanders Fields" the POEM - not even a song - stuck in my head in both English AND FRENCH. It wasn't even November... Currently, it's the "I had a little turtle, his name was tiny tim" song... it's been days help

Favourite food: Kiisseli (a Finnish stewed berry dessert.) I am also partial to a very juicy steak.

Dream trip: I wanna go to Ireland so bad. But I need to know some Irish person willing to teach me harp techniques first.

Gently tagging (you don't have to answer all of these. I just chose to combine three tags in one): @nacricissa *ahem*, @malapertmarquess, @ditzydisko, @dyrewrites, @toribookworm22, @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @blackrosesandwhump, @beloveddawn-blog, @unhingednovelist

[vxnillavampir]

All I Wanted .1 - Nice Shot

you thought your life was over until you stumbled your way in to jackson. being the new girl around town means that someone has to show you the ropes and what to expect on patrols.

pairing: ellie williams x afab!reader

content warnings: some violent themes, reader takes out a couple of dudes and infected, joel makes an appearance, reader has relations with a man (briefly mentioned, barely even an aspect of the story), bad writing, not proofread. even though it's not smut, please be 18+ when interacting with my account thank you <3

a/n: hi…so i originally posted a little snippet of this on my old blog, in case this seems like something you have read before! i decided to just post the full chapter here. this is part of a multi part series i have in my drafts. who knows if the other parts will see the light of day.

SUPPORT PALESTINE

word count: 2.3k

November.

The ice-cold water being thrown in your face is what woke you up.

"We're going to need you to start talking." A blurred man kept pacing back and forth in front of you, his southern accent distinct. You shake your head to come to your senses and notice that your hands are tied behind you. The room you were in was dimly lit, the limited daylight peeking through the windows. What time is it? How long were you out? "Tommy take it easy," said another man with the same accent, "she's just a kid."

"I’m not a kid." You spat out.

"So, she speaks." The one that was apparently named Tommy knelt down in front of you. "Who are you? Where did you come from?" His voice was stern.

"California." Your voice sounded pretty groggy, and you cleared your throat to try and get yourself together.

"Jackson is a long way aways...what brought you all the way out here?" You glanced over at the other man who had his arms crossed. He was comfortably leaning against the wall waiting for you to answer. "I had to get out."

"You were...in pretty bad shape when I found you out on the trails. Are you infected?" The other man spoke up.

Tommy jolted up and stormed over to the mystery man. "You didn't even check to see if she was infected? What the hell is wrong with you, Joel!"

"I didn't see any bites when I picked her up..."

"I'm not. I was only passed out because I hadn't eaten in a few days..." Your stomach chimed in at the perfect time and both men looked over at you, relaxing a bit.

Joel sighed and uncrossed his arms. "You can eat when we figure out if you're going to be a problem or not." A problem? You guys are the ones that tied me up! You thought. "I don't mean to be any trouble. You can untie me, and I'll be on my way."

"Not with injuries like that," Joel gestured to your several cuts and stab wounds, "how'd you get those anyway?"

"I had to fight like hell out of my hometown. I don't feel like reliving it just yet." Your voice trailed off, feeling a bit faint once again from lack of food. The bearded man nodded slowly and unbound your wrists. Joel helped you up and your legs couldn't help but shake and wobble. "Woah, easy." He said softly and wrapped his strong arm around you to help you up.

    "Hey, don't go passing out on me again." Calloused fingers tilted your chin up and you opened your eyes. You looked around at your new surroundings. A bar? Where the hell did Joel take you? "Food as promised." He passed a bowl of food over in your direction. You two were sat in one of the few booths while soft rock played on one of the speakers. It has been a long time since you had electricity. The smell of hearty stew filled your nose and your stomach growled once again. Before you could even think, you were stuffing your face. "Okay slow down or else you're going to choke." The man chuckled in front of you. "Now why don't you go ahead and tell me your name?"

You swallowed before speaking up to introduce yourself. "That's a nice name you got. As you probably already know by now, I'm Joel, and the other guy is my brother. 'S name's Tommy...sorry he gave you such a hard time."

"It's fine...I guess. This place is pretty nice...at least from what I've seen in the two minutes I have been conscious."

"Yeah, sometimes Jackson has its moments. Better than a QZ."

"I wouldn't know. I just stayed on my family farm this whole time. I've heard some stories about life in a QZ, though."

"Family farm, huh? Sounds like you're one of the lucky ones." Joel cracked half a smile, thinking about what it would be like to live by himself on a patch of land.

"Yeah. Guess you could say that..."

"Y'know...we actually do need someone to join our patrol team. Do you have any experience with that?"

"I mostly just fixed fences and made sure our livestock was taken care of. Since we were so far away from the city, I never had to take down any of those creeps at the time if that's what you're wondering...but I can handle myself."

That part was clear. You can't travel over a thousand miles on foot without being able to take care of yourself. "You could stay here for a night and rest up. We can see how you do on one of our routes in the morning. What do you say?"

"Yes! Just as long as you don't tie me up again." A dry laugh escaped your lips before you continued to devour your food.

            The next day you woke up bright and early in a studio apartment that Joel and Tommy had near their place. It was nice to actually sleep on a bed for once. After you got ready for the day you heard a knock at the door. An impatient auburn-haired woman stood in front of you, her arms crossed. "Uh, hey. I'm Ellie. Tommy told me I needed to show you the ropes. Whatever that means."

You nodded. "Okay. I'll just go grab my bag." You shifted around your things and stuffed your backpack with a few necessities you might need like your trusty bow and some arrows, along with your daggers and emergency pistol.

Ellie stood by a horse that you can only assume is hers, arms still crossed. You couldn't tell if she was cold or if she was just pissed off. "Got everything?" You nodded, watching her as she effortlessly got on the horse. "The stables are empty so...we're gonna have to share." She said awkwardly. "Oh..." You breathed out and attempted to climb on.

"Here, let me help." She extended out her hand and you reluctantly accepted it. All of this was so embarrassing. You have been on horses before and even grew up with them, but your injuries made it difficult to get on your own this time. Once you managed to get up Ellie signaled for the horse to take off. The jolt of movement caused you to instinctively grab onto her waist so you wouldn't fall off the damn thing.

Ellie couldn't help but feel a little smug about this situation, I mean, she had a pretty girl holding on to her for dear life. "So, I'm guessing that you never ride?" She called out to you.

"I ride a lot of things." You joked to ease how awkward this whole experience is, hearing a snort from Ellie. "Awful joke, new girl."

The scenery of this trail was absolutely beautiful, the lively green foliage was everywhere in this forest. It was well maintained—probably because of Ellie. "Wow..." You said in almost a whisper.

"What?" Ellie glanced around to make sure there was no danger.

"It's so...green."

"You don't have plants where you're from? They're everywhere. Literally."

"California is rarely this green. It's called the Golden State for a reason..." Mentioning the state where you're from sent you into a fight or flight state. The trauma you experienced was triggered just by thinking about your hometown.

"Mom? Are you okay?" Your mother was still...a little too still. She was standing over the dead body of your father. Her head turned to meet your eyes at the sound of your voice, her skin paler than usual and her mouth covered in blood. She was infected. Before you knew it, she was sprinting at you and thankfully your adrenaline kicked in.

She chased you out of the house and into the barn where you kept your livestock. The cows mooing at the sight of your uncharacteristically feral mother. She tried to hop the gates to get to the animals and you quickly grabbed the rake resting on the barn door, impaling her with it, the rake going through her neck with ease and the sound of her blood gurgling would be seared into your brain forever.

"Hey, you with me new girl?" Ellie's raspy voice broke you out of your flashback, your arms practically shaking around her torso. "Y-yeah...just...a bad memory."

"Do you...want to talk about it?" She suggested, not knowing if you would actually take her up on the offer or not. After all, you two had just met. "No. Sorry."

"Don't apologize. I totally get it." All of the stories Ellie kept secret would surprise you.

"Alright, this is far enough." She signaled for the horse to stop and helped you down off the saddle. "Stay here, Shimmer. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." You couldn't help but crack a slight smile at how Ellie communicates with her horse. The sight of her chiseled hand stroking Shimmer sent a shiver down your spine. God, how long has it been since you saw another mentally coherent hot person? Get it together.

She stepped away from the horse and ducked down behind some bushes, her rough hand grabbing your wrist and gently dragging you down to meet her level. "Hunters." She gestured towards the two men walking mindlessly along the trail. "Let's see what you can do."

You quietly take out the bow that you had packed earlier and a few arrows from your backpack. Your eyes fixated on the stalky blond man following a slightly shorter man, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. When the man in front of him bent down to tie his boots you took a deep breath to steady your hands and your mind. This is it. You released the arrow from your fingertips at the same time you released the air from your lungs. The arrow glided through the air before taking out the unknown man with a headshot. The sound of his body thudding to the ground sent the other man into a scared frenzy. "Where are you?! Come out here you coward!"

"Nice shot. Now him." Ellie watched you in awe as you loaded up another arrow, the first arrow hitting the hunter in the stomach and the second in the throat. "How's that?" You said quietly in case there were more enemies around. "Good. Really good actually." Her words made your cheeks flush. You were always a fan of words of affirmation and encouragement. "Looks like the coast is clear. Let's get back to the others."

             After everyone got back from their routes, you all decided to blow off some steam at the bar you were at just the night before. The charming place was lit up by fairy lights and candles to create ambient romantic lighting. It looked so beautiful. "Everyone, we finally have a competent person joining our patrols! Jesse, please don't sleep with her. Please. I beg." Ellie said to the tall dark-haired man with her hands held together like she was praying. "You know I can't make promises that I might not keep," Jesse said slyly before extending his hand for you to shake. You shook his hand politely and introduced yourself to everyone else.

An hour later you were slowly sipping at your whisky and started people watching. The last twenty-four hours had worn you out and it was nice to see so many people living...normally—or at least what would be considered normal now. Ellie was dancing with Dina, and you couldn't help but feel a little bit jealous at the sight of her cheeks getting flushed from having Dina's arms around her neck.

"Another drink?" Jesse chimed in, snapping you out of your jealous thoughts. "Trying to get me drunk?" You smirked at him before taking the drink from his hand.

"You caught me. That was my intention all along." He joked as he took a seat next to you at the bar. "So...wanna gossip? I know some pretty juicy stuff about almost everyone here." The offer did sound pretty tempting...

"Sure, I'll bite. What's going on with those two?" You gestured over towards Ellie and Dina. Jesse let out a prolonged sigh at the sight of the two of them. "Those two...a little bit of a will they won't they thing they have going on. I mean, I guess Ellie could use a win since she broke up with her last girlfriend." Girlfriend. That's promising at least.

"Do you know what happened between them?"

"No. Ellie is a closed book most of the time. You only know what she wants you to know." You nodded at his words and took another sip of your drink. The alcohol creates a warm pool in your stomach. "Dina on the other hand, we are kinda in an on-again-off-again relationship..."

"And right now you're...off?"

"Yeah..." Jesse looked at the floor to keep his eyes off the two of them. It was hard, he was friends with Ellie and his ex-girlfriend had an obvious crush on her.

"I feel like we're going to need another round of these." You say after taking one last sip from the clean glass and handing it to him. Jesse chuckled and went back to the bar to get more booze. If you were going to do what you had planned to do tonight, you needed more liquid courage to get over these nerves. It had been a long time since you had any affection and it seemed like Jesse would be able to give it to you. At least for the night.

So you went back to his place.

AHHHH omg there i finally posted something y’all. please let me know what you think!

dividers by cafekitsune <333

© vxnillavampir 2024 - don’t copy, steal, translate, repost, or plug any of my works into an ai.

[box-architecture]

I was rereading some of your stuff on Ao3, and went “huh. I know Sapnap kidnaps Dream out of a misguided idea of what’s happening at one point, but how does that all go? How did Dream react? What was Sapnap like?”

So now I’m asking you. At 12:20 am. I have class in 7.5 hours!

Okay so we're going to ignore how long this has been sitting in my drafts, half answered. Okay? Okay. Awesome

-

So at some point during the Discovery Of Many Kinks (because when you're having a weird poly relationship with your former Warden, you're going to try a bunch of different things. For Science) awesamdrunz attempt to do a sex tape. It gets left around and found within like three days. By Sapnap.

So of course because of burning curiosity he has to watch the mysterious tape to see whats on it.

Then the only reason he kept watching was shock and also trying to figure out who the hell the third person was, why they looked familiar but also what the hell happened to them. Fun ways to find out your former best friend wasn't lying when he said he was horrifically tortured by your kind-of finance: finding his sex tape.

And listen, originally it was a fun crack idea to have him see this relationship nonsense where awesamdrunz was basically fucking in sex dungeons (made by Sam) after kidnappings, and decided that this was actually a really good template to fix his own relationship. He ends up trapping Quackity and Karl in what might be a previously unused sex dungeon!

(Resounding success: both of his boyfriends did not murder each other (due to bars in between them) and even spoke to each other in order to escape. This is the most progress he's had in months.)

But then! Alternate Idea! Sapnap sees the sex tape and (honestly not unfairly given his prior knowledge) believes Punz & Sam are at minimum, pressuring Dream into this relationship, and somehow this is a worse crime than murder. No wonder Dream couldn't stay in the prison! (Which. Not inaccurate.) So Sapnap sets about needing to find and protect Dream.

Sapnap finds Dream, and tries to convince him that he'll protect him. Dream is confused about what Sapnap saw, and has a tough time refuting anything. He also does really miss his friend. So he,,, doesn't really fight when Sapnap takes him to a secondary location.

-

"The windows are nice. Not as defensible, but you'll know if the enemy approaches." Dream commented, staring at the cloud-covered sea.

Sapnap laughed nervously, pulling open kitchen cupboards. "Yeah, I don't know. There shouldn't be any way for someone to find us out here though; its not like I told anyone where we were going."

Dream pursed his lips, but said nothing, eyes following the way the waves crashed against the shitty boardwalk Sapnap cobbled together half asleep. He figured Dream wouldn't want to be cooped up in the cottage all the time, not after… everything, so they could go sit out on the beach and fish, maybe, or go look for seashells. They hadn't built a sandcastle since they were kids, either, so it would definitely be something fun to try. Just like old times.

The wheat was crumbling in his hands, so Sapnap quickly tossed it on the counter.

"Are you hungry?" He called out, trying for a bit more cheer. Dream's gaze pulled to his, and Sapnap began pulling more ingredients out on the granite. "I know I'm not usually the person who cooks, but I've been getting into it lately! I made rabbit stew for Karl the other day, and he didn't even make a face when he was chewing."

He didn't really think about the potatoes as he dumped them into the sink, but he did notice the way Dream flinched, drawing in on himself and towards the doorway.

"Dream?"

"Just…" Dream looked back out into the sea. His fingers, what remained of them, dug into the fabric of his pants. "Nothing with potatoes. Please."

Sapnap felt his anxiety roll like the tide.

"Yeah, dude, that's cool. Doesn't sound appealing right now anyway." He said uncertainly. Dream's shoulders relaxed marginally, but Sapnap still felt off. "Anything you're in the mood for, though? Beet soup? Cheese sandwich?"

"Whatever you cook is fine." Dream reassured him. A brittle, but teasing edge appeared in his smile. "Unless you somehow got worse at baking bread."

He had, but god forbid would he ever admit to that. He grinned, and sat up on the counter. "Oh, like you're so good at it. I tried your stupid 'Everything' bread, and it tasted like ash."

"You turned off the timer and it burned."

"Well maybe next time don't leave random timers on the oven and expect anyone to know what they're for."

"Maybe next time you should assume its there for a reason and not touch it." Dream said in exasperation. Sapnap stuck his tongue out, and Dream threw his hands up, exiting the kitchen. He was so dramatic, Sapnap thought fondly.

-

Its a lot of Sapnap attempting to reestablish their previous connection and realizing how much Dream has changed, and staring at the scars when he thinks Dream isn't looking. He gets Super Protective and promises he wont let anything else happen to him. Dream is instinctively upset (why now, why does it matter now, why do you care, I am Perfectly Fine) but its one of his People and he is So Tired.

Sapnap is sorta kinda keeping Dream with him. It's not exactly against Dream's will, but it's also like, if Dream could walk out the door and come back later without Sapnap freaking out he'd rather do that. But Sapnap is freaking out, and seems to believe that there is a credible threat against Dream if he leaves. Given Sapnap's previous relationship with Quackity, Dream is willing to believe he might know something and that alone makes him anxious enough that he wants to stay.

Sapnap gets more horrified the longer he's with Dream (Dream flinches under his touches, his fingers are gone, Dream makes a snide comment about Quackity when Sapnap asks about the scars,) and this only convinces him more that clearly he needs to be protecting Dream. Sapnap expresses a lot of fury towards Sam, and Dream doesn't have any good arguments against it. There's a lot of stuff that he just sorta, decided to ignore, and now that coming back up is messing with him.

They get into a brief yelling match when Dream gets tired of what he presumes is pity and fake behavior, and it ends with Sapnap holding Dream to keep him from leaving or collapsing.

(The irony(?) of Dream comforting Sapnap for most of his life only for them to switch places in this moment is not lost on him.)

He gets to snuggle with him under the covers and gets a kiss on the chin (Dream is half asleep, and thinking about how much he missed him.)

Meanwhile, Punz is going to Murder Sapnap.

Punz has no context for why Sapnap took Dream so he is assuming Sapnap is going to attempt to imprison Dream again (after failing to kill him) and while he is 100 percent confident in Dreams abilities he also is aware that Sapnap is one of Dreams People and therefore capable of hurting Dream emotionally. Hurting Dream is Not Allowed.

Sam is having a panic attack because Dream isn't within sight line and isn't with Punz and therefore everything is Wrong and Bad in his world.

When you finally get a confrontation between Sam and Sapnap (because at this point, they don't know that Sapnap knows about Punz, so Sam is going in first), Sapnap responds viciously, tearing into Sam both for the scars on Dream's body, but also stating he knew they were fucking, and there's no way that's even remotely acceptable given the position of power Sam had (he's not wrong. this is a true statement of fact for everything that occurred prior to the prison break. it's just that things got weird after that). Sam has no good rebuttal, and faced with violence from Sap, has to flee. He's left shaken from everything.

Dream: listen he may have enabled my torture and abuse, and starved and isolated me, and accepted sexual favors from me while being in a position of power over me But he's also a very sad wet cat of a man, and I'm a control freak

Punz tries to talk with Sapnap on slightly less,,, angry grounds? On his part. Knowing about the interaction with Sam, he feels better about the fact Dream is probably safe and Sapnap probably has good reason for what he's doing.

To be clear though, Sapnap is furious with Punz. Right out of the gate he reveals he knows Punz was involved. At first, he's assuming that Punz was paid off to help Sam, but Punz decides "fuck it" and reveals at least part of things. He explains he was working with Dream after the prison break, that he felt bad for betraying him, and that they had a relationship. Dream wanted to involve Sam post-prison, Punz was against it, but wanted Dream to be safe.

Sapnap: you're forcing him to do this! Punz: I DON'T EVEN WANT HIM TO BE DOING THIS Sam: >:(

Sapnap needs to take some time to processes that, but he then presses to clarify; Dream and Sam had a relationship while Dream was in prison? Yes.

Sam had a hand in the torture and Dream's condition? Also yes.

After he broke out, despite all of this, Dream still felt like he wanted to return to Sam? Yes.

Sapnap: And you LET him?!

Punz doesn't have a good answer for that, other than Dream is his own person, and Punz can't stop him from doing what he wants with his life. To which Sapnap responds, yes you can motherfucker

It's a very fundamentally rift in their two perspectives. Punz, particularly post-prison, couldn't morally justify restricting Dream or telling him how to life his life or cope. Sapnap, thinks that Dream was not in a position to make a choice like that.

Punz doesn't have a good answer for that, it's the exact thing he's been feeling guilty over. So he ends up leaving, Not for forever. Just to think.

Meanwhile, Dream overheard everything. He now understands what Sapnap is seeing as the "real issue" (or at least, the current threat at hand), and he knows that he's going to make his own choice here.

Dream: I understand that my decisions are problematic but have you ever considered that I've made my choices and will continue to make them, even if you don't agree Sapnap: NO

Dream tells Sapnap gently that he's leaving now. He wants to go back. Sapnap doesn't want him to, he makes fair arguments about how much Dream could be hurt here. Dream understands, but he's also an adult, and he's decided what he wants. He's forgiven his stupid creeper hybrid boyfriend. It might not make sense to, but he has. It's his choice in the end.

Sapnap doesn't like it, there's a long people where he's just holding Dream and in tears. He's apologized a lot. For leaving Dream there. He says it again for good measure. Dream gives him a soft kiss on the forehead and he doesn't say it's okay, but he does say that he loves him. That it will be okay.

Dream has to go now, but he promises to come back, they set a time and they get to just spend time together. Talking about things one at a time.

(Sapnap and Dream see each other a lot now, as he slowly enters Dream's life again. Occupying his space and checking up on him and fretting. They get more kisses, more cuddles in bed. Once a week they come back to their little cottage and grow something that isn't what they used to have, but its still good, and its full of love.)

Later, Dream will be reassuring Punz that he made the best choices he could make, sighing and pulling Sam out of his prison depression hole. Kidnapping once again proves to be a great way to solve problems.

[colossal-niamh]

A (Really Late) Series of Top 5s of My Favorite Things This Year

(Oops, left this in my drafts and forgot to finish it until now. please enjoy my out of season seasonal listicle!)

As we're inching closer to the end of the year I thought it'd be fun to do a series of top 5s for all the forms of media I've watched and enjoyed this year. I don't have a lot of brand new stuff from this year so expect a lot of "new to me" spots on these list. I'll also drop an honorable mention for each list before the final one. so to begin; Top 5 TV shows: 5. X-Men '97- A show that takes the ball of the original 90's cartoon and then proceeds to do some Michael Jordan shit with it. a stunningly animated series that also has some of the strongest writing I've seen in a superhero series. Episode 5 in particular is this gutcheck of tense romantic drama and nightmarish cruelty that rocks the foundations of every character in the series. easy front runner for best X-Men media with X-2 and First Class.

4. Game Changer- Game Changer feels like a show made in a lab specifically to tickle the dungeon master part of my brain. seeing Sam Reich put the Dropout cast through various saw traps every episode is just so entertaining, especially when the contestants get to test the borders of what Sam and crew set up. The real meat of the show is when Brennan Lee Mulligan has been singled out and a whole game is built around fucking with him. stand out episodes in my head are the Sam Says series, Escape the Greenroom, and Second Place.

3. Neon Genesis Evangelion- Eva is one of those things I've kinda had the wrong impression of for a long while, mostly because of people talking about it in a way that misses what I loved about it (or you know, are just wrong about it). I went in expecting the "deconstruction of the mecha genre" pitch I'd heard all my life, and while it's kinda there, I latched way harder onto the gripping psychological horror and masterful character writing. I spent a good chunk of this year stewing over how layered and interesting and deeply fucked up this cast is and how they bounce off of each other like electrons through a molecule. I will say I'm not super fond of the dub as it feels a bit stiff in places and sands off some of the sub's harder hitting lines, but the quality still shines through regardless. best episode for my money are the last 2 because DAMN what an ending.

2. The Haunting of Hill House- Hill House is a show that for a good 3/4 episode stretch had me in tears by the end, and every episode left me and the friend I watched it with going "goddamn" when credits rolled. A masterpiece of horror and a deeply chilling story of grief. So good it leaves me both excited and tentative for Mike Flannagan's other works because I'm worried nothing he does could live up to Hill House. Episodes 5 and 6 in particular are the zenith of the show.

The Venture Bros- I've watched this show 3 times this year, once by myself, once with one friend, once with another friend added on. My love for this show grew with every rewatch. Venture Bros feels like a show made just for me. It's thoughtfully crafted, it's got a great knack for character writing, it's funny-GOD is it funny. one of the rare long form series that somehow gets better as it goes to the point it somehow hitting new peaks some 70 episodes in. it's so hard to pick a favorite episode, Escape to The house of Mummies Part 2, Operation P.R.O.M., Spanakopita!, All This and Gargantua-2. There's too many to choose one. I love this show so goddamn much.

Top 5 Games of The Year:

5. Dragon Quest 11- I was spurred on by the passing of Akira Toriyama to finally dip my toe into the DQ series and it did not disappoint. I wonderful JRPG with fun mechanics, a beautiful art style and an all round phenomenal party. special shout out to Sylvando for being just the best at all times. I do find the post game pulls the rug out from the main story a bit as it undermines one of the best moments in act 2, but the core of the game is still so so good.

4. Resident Evil 8- I'm one of those big cowards who has a hard time playing horror games because the agency in the scare gets to me too much. So I've also been tiptoeing into the genre with RE8 (I've seen playthrough's of 7 so I know what's up plot wise). The map layouts and puzzles scratch the same part of my brain as finding a shortcut in one of the souls games and I love it. on top of this is I find the resource management very fun, the feeling that I have to make what I got count feels nice to me. easy standout moment of the game for me is the dollhouse section, the escape room and the baby are so chilling back to back, though admittedly I don't care for the hide and seek after them.

3. Potionomics- Potionomics is this difficulty sandwich where the early game and final week are some of the hardest challenges a management game has thrown at me, with a really easy middle where I get to coast by and chill with all the character I like. Those characters in particular are a blast to be around, especially with the new update giving them all voice acting to breath even more life into them. This is a cast with no losers but I in particular love Roxanne, Corsac, Boss Finn and Mint. also love that the post game is an endless mode so you can catch up on any relationships you put on the back burner to focus on the contests

2. I Am Your Beast- A blitz of a FPS game that incentivizes learning the maps front to back to get that perfect run. The gameplay is finely crafted so when you know what you're doing you feel like the ultra competent badass you play as. This also has my favorite story of any game this year, Harding is such a compelling protagonist and it's nice to get the rare anti-military military shooter. I also really want to spotlight how good the voice direction and acting is in this, every major character sounds incredible and all of the random enemies you fight have some of the funniest lines I've heard in a game this year.

Ultrakill- Ultrakill plays like if someone found a way to code a game out of pure cocaine. This game hits my brain is constantly spamming a dopamine button. It's level design, weapon loadout, art direction and that sweet sweet parry button are all expertly crafted. I had such a good time with this game that it was the only thing I played for a week straight on vacation. I cannot wait for the final act to finish and sink my teeth into the game one more time

Top 5 Comics of The Year-

5. The Summer Hikaru Died- One of my favorite reading experiences this year was plowing through the first 2 volumes of this on quiet afternoon with the Silent Hill 2 soundtrack on in the background. An excellent gay romance/horror series that captures a lot of feelings of grief, growing up gay and dealing with that in a small conservative town. Cannot wait to see where the series goes from here.

4. Ultimate Spider-Man (2024)- This exact book is what made me want to keep up with the new Ultimate Marvel line and monthly comic releases in general this year. The best goddamn Spider-Man book in years, Johnathan Hickman is running marathons around the other ongoing Spidey books by having incredible character writing. Peter's later in life exploration of a side of himself that was taken away from him, his relationship with MJ and his children, his blooming friendship with Harry Osborne, an actual fleshed out relationship with Uncle Ben, Ben and J. Jonah, BEN AND J. JONAH. It's all so so good.

3. Transformers (2023)- This and TF One have reignited the dormant Transformers fan in me from childhood. Daniel Warren Johnson uses the Transformers premise to weave an intense war drama while exploring themes of wartime trauma, loyalty and doing your best in spite of the worst case scenario. So many staple characters are shown in such fascinating lights. Optimus is constantly trying to do what's best for both earth and the Autobots even when his choices piss off his friends and allies. Starscream starts off the series as leader of the Decepticons and proves why he's so unfit for the role. Arcee and Carly dealing with different points of their revenge journeys. All this great writing with the icing on the cake of Daniel Warren Johnson drawing giant robots powerbombing and piledriving eachother cuz he's a big wrestling nerd.

2. The Nice House on The Lake- This was an 11th hour read for me this year but GOD was it a good choice. A knockout premise executed masterfully by writer James Tynion IV. I'm hesitant to even say anything that happens because the experience of seeing the mystery unfold is unmatched. genuinely one of my new favorite horror stories.

REAL- REAL is about finding that thing that drives you, that truly calls to you and gets you wanting to push yourself more and more. Then it’s taken from you, whether it be by bad luck, poor health or even your own mistakes. It’s feeling that driving dream leave you behind, and it hurts. But you have to keep going, you find something new and you try again. Takehiko Inoue paints this beautiful portrait of everyday people trying their best, even in their worst moments. Please, read REAL.

Top 5 Wrestling Matches of the Year-

5. Bryan Danielson vs Will Ospreay, 4/21/24- So heads up, the unofficial name for this list is "oops, all Bryan" as Danielson's final full time year has been the thing I was fixated on the most in the wrestling world. This one also happens to be my favorite Ospreay match I've ever seen. Will's performances tend to be a bit inconsistent for my tastes but Dragon helps him hone in for one of his best performances ever.

4. Daniel Makabe vs Timothy Thatcher, 4/4/24- Bryan wasn't the only gifted technical wrestler who said goodbye this year as this was also Daniel Makabe's farewell run. On this final run of the indies he had one more run in with his greatest rival, Timothy Thatcher. The 2 put on a wonderful epilogue to their feud by weaving back and forth between excellent mat based wrestling and an all out slugfest. Farewell Mr. Makabe and thanks for the memories

3. Swerve Strickland vs Bryan Danielson, 8/25/24- No other match filled me with sure pure excitement this year as this one. Bryan getting one more triumphant victory as a stadium full of people scream their heads off for him. This is probably Swerve's best non-Hangman match too as he shapes himself into the cocky domineering obstacle standing in our hero's way. One last feel good moment for the greatest of all time.

2. Bryan Danielson vs Jon Moxley, 10/12/24- Transcendent, Bryan Danielson dies on live pay per view and it's just as heartbreaking as it is enthralling to watch. Jon Moxley's greatest match hands down as he takes on the mantle of deranged killer who thinks he must slay the dragon to regain the title of king. Bryan fights like a wounded beast, trying desperately to stay alive, but eventually the wounds add up and he is inevitably put to sleep. so much about this match is perfect, to the opening brawl, to Bryan's ever great fiery comebacks, to Nigel McGuinness at ringside slowly dropping his spite and snide comment and showing genuine concern for his greatest rival. What more can I say except thank you Bryan.

Demus vs Mad Dog Conolly 4/4/24- The best dog collar match of all time, fuck you, fight me. Mad Dog puts on a bruiser monster performance that would make the likes of Bruiser Brody blush. Meanwhile Demus takes every lick Mad Dog can throw at him and comes back gritting his teeth and swinging back just as hard. A bloodbath that ends with some of the nastiest punches I've seen in a wrestling match, the best match on the best show of the year.

Top 5 Films of The Year-

5. Transformer One- This film was done so dirty by it's marketing team man, it's insane. Just a banger movie that's probably one of the best pieces of Transformers media, like, ever. an excellently animated, written and especially excellent voice acting from the cast. Brian Tyree Henry's D-16/Megatron is THE standout performance of the film hands down

4. Speak No Evil (2022)- A stomach churningly tense horror film where by the last stretch of the film myself and the friend I watched it with were screaming for the protagonists to get out of a situation we knew was hopeless. It's insidious, a scare formed from small moment until the full picture is in front of you and there's nothing the characters can do to stop it.

3. End of Evangelion- Every film from this point forward are all time classics that I will think about for probably the rest of my life. End of Eva is this awe inspiring balancing act; equal parts despair at the thought of being known and the euphoria at the thought of being understood. With this conflict I found myself wondering how the proverbial coin will land, only to be surprised that the coin lands on it's side and finds a beautiful synthesis of emotions. A simply beautiful film from my favorite director I discovered this year

2. RRR- WOOOOOOOOOO, FRIENDSHIP, BROTHERHOOD, DECOLONIZATION, LIBERATION, FRIENDSHIP!!! 3 Hours that sprint by as every half hour the movie tops itself with epic set piece after epic set piece. One of the greatest action films of all time

I Saw The TV Glow- Beautiful, no other word can describe it, but watch me try anyways. A haunting story about not feeling quite right in your own skin, that something isn't right in your life, that something about you isn't quite right. That freeing feeling of finding someone close to you through common interest, yet fear keeping you from following them as they change to be who they want to be. That fear paralyzes the protagonist but the film assures them and you the audience on one fact.

I needed to hear this. I needed to see some of my deepest fears thrown in my face. I needed to be reassured I'm not wasting my time, that the hour glass is far from empty. I needed to see the TV glow. If you feel as I did, please, I implore you to watch this film.

[space-writes]

@memento-morri-writes your whump wednesday posting from the other day has me wanting to share a little Valloroth whump, because i don't write much but this interrogation scene with Cherry was SO much fun to do! so, a rare Entire Scene (rough draft version), but ft Cherry having gotten into some rather hot, dracari-infested waters

[ID - a green and black decorative divider]

Some rooms are the last place a lot of people have seen. These rooms are dark, hidden, lacking windows and light and fresh air, possessing a single door of whichever kind is most convenient to their architects, which lock from the outside only, and which hold within them a distinctive stench of sweat, blood, and desperation. This particular room had all of these features, and lay beneath a small Imperial outpost on the fringes of Vostamur. Cherry had gotten a brief glimpse of the tower through the wyvern’s claws when they’d arrived—white stone, carved pillars, pinched roof—but hadn’t been granted any time to admire the building before her dracari captors had dragged her down to her current residence.

She’d had time to admire the carvings in here. Dragons over the doorway, patterns of scale around the top of the wall. The dragons were all Sirsassa, she suspected; the Eternal Empress seemed the type not to want competitors even in sculpted form. The dim light of the smokeless torches brought the carvings to life, making the scales seem to slither and writhe in the gloom.

Intimidation. Cherry admired it. They’d left her to stew for an hour or two after they’d chained her up—to the ceiling, not the wall, which meant she was really in for it—but when one of the dracari had returned and found her singing an Inverein drinking song instead of sobbing in terror, they’d upped their game. Now there was a bench set up along one side of the room, and a silver-scaled dracari with an impressive crest of spikes was presently laying out a sequence of tools and unpleasant-looking devices atop it. Both his tunic and the wrap draped over it were black, which didn’t bode well. Black was Sirsassa’s colour, reserved for her highest ranking, her most faithful, and, key to Cherry’s current predicament, her Inquisitors.

On the other side of the room, a less worringly-dressed golden dracari was going through her things. They’d clearly already done so, since they’d stolen her bag before they threw her in here, but apparently fancied a second go. Cherry shifted in her chains, trying to ignore the ache in her shoulders.

“Reckon there’s still some wine in one of those skins,” she called. “If you all haven’t drunk it.”

The golden dracari spared her a brief glance, then returned to emptying out her pack an item at a time. Most of the stuff belonged to Ahrim and his boys, but some of it was hers. Including the House Everent communication stone, which the dracari held up to Cherry.

“Sexual aid,” Cherry said. The dracari said something to their friend, a quick avalanche of Draconic. The Inquistor ceased their performative laying-out of torture implements, and plucked up the stone with interest. His emerald eyes regarded her with cold, keen interest.

“My colleague is an arcanist,” he said, in much smoother commontongue than any of the others had. “They say this is a magical device.”

“Like I said. Sex aid,” Cherry told him. He blinked once, slowly, then his hand snapped up and cracked her across the face. She cried out, pain lancing through her cheek. “Ash and fucking smoke, fucking bastard lizard!” She spat blood. “Fuck that hurt.”

“There are a small number of your kind in the Empire,” the Inquisitor said coolly. “I have had the good fortune to take several under my care over the course of my career.”

“How’d that work out for you?”

“Informatively.” The Inquisitor raised the stone. “What is the device?”

“Don’t know. Stole it,” Cherry said. Her head rocked sideways at another blow, eyes swimming.

“What is the device?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

The Inquisitor’s hand raised for another hit, and it was at this point that the communication stone began to glow. Cherry cursed her father’s timing as the House Everent symbol illuminated, casting its red light over the Inquisitor’s face. Vancis’ voice spoke through it, clear as if he were in the room.

“My patience is not infinite, Debuachery, and neither is my coin purse. Where are you?”

He spoke in Infernal, and though Cherry could understand him, it was quite clear the dracari could not.

“I do not have time for your games of stubbornness and aggravation, girl. I have other methods for dealing with Sorrow if you cannot hold to your end of the deal.”

“What does it say?” the Inquisitor demanded, thrusting the stone at Cherry’s face. “That is your tongue. What does it say?”

Cherry swallowed blood, head throbbing. “It says, go fuck yourself.”

Silence followed her statement. The stone had stopped glowing, Vancis having given up on contacting her for now. The arcanist watched the Inquisitor nervously—the Inquisitor clasped his hands behind his back, and strolled over to his bench of tools. His tail flicked idly from side to side, stirring up little eddies of dust from the floor.

“I have been told,” he said, “that infernii prize their horns greatly.” He lifted what looked like a very strange set of metal shears, with thick, curved blades. “These are designed to remove the horns from dead wyverns. I dislike nonspecific tools, but one must be able to adapt in this line of work.”

Heat pulsed at the base of Cherry’s horns, and whether it was from the blow or from the Infernal blood in her veins, she didn’t know. The Inquisitor brought the shears over to her, holding them up so she could see the magical marks inscribed along the blades. She tried not to flinch away. Surely they couldn’t cut through her horns. She was infernii, not some winged beast; her horns weren’t just bone, they were fire and magic and the Inquisitor set the shears around her left horn, where it curved back over her hair and there was some sort of tightening screw on the handle and he was turning it and she couldn’t feel it but she heard the rasp of the blades scrape against her horn and—

“It’s a communication device!” she blurted out. “It sends messages from Infernus—from my father, my employer.”

The Inquisitor angled his head to meet her eyes. He turned the screw on the shears again and Cherry whimpered as something made a small crunch. “Continue.”

Cherry wet her lips. “Vancis Everent. Third House. He wants me to find another infernii up here, that’s all. I was looking for him, sort of, when your people grabbed me, I don’t have nothin’ to do with the walking dead or any of that, I’m just looking for Prince Sorrow!”

Over on the other side of the room, the arcanist let out a noise of surprise. They said something to the Inquisitor; Cherry picked out Sorrow, and Kashoskalya. That was the capital, if she remembered right.

“It seems we have a friend in common,” the Inquisitor said. “You know this Mehendrahnos?”

Cherry tried to shake her head, but he held her still with the shears. “I don’t! Sorrow’s got fingers everywhere, tradin’ and smugglin’ and shit, wouldn’t surprise me if he’s got some in your hometown.”

The Inquisitor thought a moment, then let go of the shears but didn’t remove them from Cherry’s horn, where they were seemingly now locked in place. He stepped away, addressing the arcanist—in commontongue, presumably for Cherry’s dubious benefit.

“Have Mehendrahnos brought. If he works with imps, he will explain what they are doing with risen dead on our borders.” He glanced at Cherry. “Think on your own explanations before I return. They had best be more informative than today’s attempts.”

He left, taking the arcanist and her communication stone with him. The torches went out the moment the door shut, either by force of its closing or some dracari magic. Cherry hung in the dark, with metal clamped to her horn and her face throbbing and her arms screaming, and spat curses at the walls until she ran out of them. Then she simply hung there, hurting.

[ID - a green and black decorative divider]

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