#I answered a question of color associations before and I think my answers would be way diff now lolol

[infamous-if]

i associate seven with the colour red… is this true or. is this just in my head

I associate them with red as well but readers hit me over the head with a bat and said their representative color is green so I said yes captains and now it’s green 🫡

[signanothername]

From your killer post of him being a lapcat

in the timeline/future of where he leaves nightmare, do you think he’ll keep being a lap at to Color?? Like, Color could just simply be sitting down and reading on the couch and Killer could walk over and lie his head down on his legs, simply say “affection.” Or “pet me” and be like a cat????

The post Anon is referring to

Oooh that’s so adorable to think about

It’s a yes, but not immediately, just eventually

The thing about my lap cat post is that Nightmare’s not one to ask for permission, so he was forced to do such a thing rather than be ok with it

And Killer is also the type to not take affection positively, he’s been conditioned to be used to violent/unsafe environments, and conditioned to take such gentle gestures as simply emotional/ mental manipulation and a type of forcing control upon him, rather than any genuine love and care

Killer in general doesn’t truly understand the idea that he can even say “no” to any physical contact, he thinks people have the right to touch him whenever they like, even when Killer himself is uncomfortable with it or doesn’t want such contact, so even if somebody else other than Nightmare manhandles him, you’d see him let it happen like he’s some sort of rag doll, completely ignoring any sort of discomfort he feels, cause people touching you even when you’re uncomfortable is the norm right?

So he gets extremely fucking confused when Color asks for permission before touching him, and Killer would vocalize his confusion, telling Color, “y’know you don’t have to ask for permission right??”

Only for Color to hit him with the question “are you actually ok with being touched at anytime?” Cause that’s what Color does, he emphasizes and questions Killer about such topics that Killer usually wouldn’t question himself, to help Killer figure out that he has control over his life now, that he can say no to things if he doesn’t want to do something

And Killer, on autopilot would go to the answer “yes” only to stop himself before that word comes out of his mouth

Cause in reality, no, he’s not ok with touch everytime, sometimes he wants his personal space to himself, but Killer doesn’t vocalize that, instead opting to just drop the subject, and Color doesn’t push beyond that

Eventually, he would try and experiment by saying no, fully expecting Color to ignore him and touch him regardless, only to be surprised by Color backing off and actually taking that “no” fully seriously

Not only that, but the gentle touches Color does? Killer genuinely believes it’s just Color manipulating and trying to control him at first, just like how Chara and Nightmare used to do

Then as time goes on, Killer starts realizing that Color actually does those touches as a sort of showing genuine affection and love, and well, Killer would be lying if he said he hated Color’s gentle touches

So it takes time for Killer to let go of such negative associations with touch, before he perceives it in a positive light

So i feel like Killer is going to be hesitant to do such a thing at first, and since Killer won’t take physical affection very positively at first, it’s better for Color to keep his distance, lest Killer’s beliefs just end up even more engraved in his mind

But eventually as time goes on and as Killer gets closer and more used to affection and start actually accepting such affection for what it truly is, he might actually go to Color for affection himself

And yes Killer, would just act almost like a cat himself, putting his head on Color’s legs or leaning into Color’s hand when it’s touching his face

In fact, allow me to say that I love to think Killer would sometimes sleep around Color’s feet in a curled up manner, that’s peak cat behavior if you ask me chchch

Something like this

[lxvebun]

flurry of colours

synopsis: asking the genshin boyfriends what color they see you as

content: Alhaitham/Kazuha/Wriothesley x gender neutral reader. Fluff! Use of nickname darling/dove. Wrio is pretty short I wasn't entirely sure how to write him😭. English is not my first language so i'm sorry for any mistakes♡

D*rk content blogs do not interact (*a)

Alhaitham

"It's not your problem if Kaveh's struggling with his color schemes, darling" he replies quickly, not even bothering to look up from the page in his book.

"Archons, Haitham, it's not like that. Just look at me and imagine what color I radiate :)

he sighs a little, closing the book but keeping his fingers between the pages. Even if he thinks it's a bit of a silly question, he does take a moment to let his eyes trace over you, shamelessly letting them linger on your lips too. for a second you think he's actually going to answer your question but then you see him failing to suppress a smirk and his gaze meets yours with an expression you can only describe as Are you serious?

"Humor me Alhaitham"

Alright, let me think.. he completely closes his book this time, placing it in front of him on his desk and rests his head on his hand

"Colors can actually invoke a lot of thoughts and impressions. Most people associate red with warmth, and passion, but also with danger or fear depending on the context. A lot of people view black as a masking color be it clothes to hide certain parts of yourself or the shadows in your nightmares, but you can also see it as a protective color as it doesn't reflect. Blue is usually related to the sea, the lighter tones with sunny mornings walking along the shore, darker tones of blue can relate to the deep cold unknown depth that's hidden from prying eyes......if I had to describe you a color..it would be green. Not necessarily because of the associations with it, wisdom, calmness, and hope. which do apply to you don't get me wrong, but green is my favorite color, and you're my favorite person. Simple as that. Now, care to read with me for a bit?

*he's so annoying but he does it so well. Bites him*

Kazuha and wrio under the cut♡

Kazuha

kazuha has been a bit gloomy as of lately. His usual flowery words have lost their petals, His leatherbound notebook has not made an appearance in a while, neither have the little poems he writes for you to wake up to, and his fingers are clean, not covered with his usual, and at this point, you believed to be permanent, ink stains. It's clear he's been going through the infamous writers block. something that most artist go through and also get out of but it's nonetheless an infuriating part of being an creative individual. But since Kazuha has made you his muse as he told you many many times before, who are you to not try and help inspire your lovely boyfriend.

It takes you a while of bringing him to random locations for sunset walks or stargazing and asking him random questions until one finally hits the spot. His eyes immediately lighting up as he turns to you with such a warm expression of love and adoration you're pretty sure your heart skipped a beat

"That's a very beautiful question, dove"

He takes a moment to think about it, eyes lovingly tracing over every little detail of you, the backlight of the sun, the glimmer of the waves shining in your eyes

"I don't think describing you as one color does you justice. You shift hues as softly and gently as the day shifts into night, and the sun makes place for the moon in the sky. But if I do have to say just one, I see hints of purple in you, but that could also be because the color reminds me of my hometown and everytime I look at you, my soul feels at home" He answers with a new found excitement in his voice

"Actually, maybe I can use this for a poem-"

*i'm projecting can you tell?*

Wriothesley

You often come down into the fortress to spend some time with him on his break. With both of you living on different levels of Fontaine, you'll take any chance you can get to be around him and even when it's not officially his break time, he could never say no to you....or tea time

That's why you're here now sitting on the edge of his desk as he hastily discared the paperwork to make room for the teapot and biscuits. As quickly as the tea flows, the conversation passes from deep and meaningful, romantic ones, to terrible jokes and banter as both of you just talk about whatever comes to mind.

So he doesn't raise an eyebrow when you ask him what colors remind him of you. it's quite endearing how he just goes along with whatever silly questions or requests you throw at him without making you feel embarrassed about it

"Probably between a pearlescent white and a warm honey yellow."

"Interesting answer...why?"

"the colours remind me of the sun and the moon, and living at the bottom of the ocean here in the fortress we don't have either of those of course. You're the closest thing I have to feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin or experiencing calm atmosphere of the moonlight. And to be honest I prefer you over the real thing♡"

Hes so cute *cries*

Thank you for reading angels!♡

[reddamselette]

Kevin isn't sure when or how it started.

Or maybe he does know but refuses to acknowledge it.

There’s a number of moments swirling through his head as he thinks about it.

A jump in his heart when his hand covered Neil’s eyes in the beginning, asking for his game. Did it have to be anything other than that? Could there be a way to justify asking someone for their devotion on the court, to dedicate that devotion to him as he pours his heart and soul into the very thing that gives him life? 

The undeniable trust Neil handed over before he left to Evermore. Kevin felt like he’s been holding Neil’s life in his hands since they met. He couldn’t help but think what would’ve happened if Kevin never sought him out in Millport, if Neil heeded his warning to run yet still willing to teach him every night no matter the consequences. Would their paths cross in that other life? Would Kevin recognize Neil, not for who he was hiding, but for everything he’s seen in the other man for as long as he could remember? 

Recognize Neil by his blue eyes. His voice, his quick quips and sharp tongue, his hands and featherlight touches. The cheeky smiles and the dimples on either side of his face.

Then there’s the other thing.

The excitement bubbling in his chest as he came face to face with Andrew for the first time. The potential Kevin had seen and how he wanted to so badly utilize it as he knew inside and out Andrew is worth more than anyone could ever think.

Relief flooding his body when Andrew promised to stand between Kevin and the Moriyamas. To never be hurt, never be taken away again and live a life full of misery in Riko’s shadow.

Patting checks of injuries and late night practices when it was just the two of them like a secret only they ever had.

It’s ridiculous, really. How his mind and his body associates the smell of cigarette smoke to Andrew. The cliché of it all as Kevin compares the sunrise to hazel eyes.

Kevin thinks the irony isn’t lost on him.

How well Andrew and Neil look together like the sunlight against the blue sky or the changing colorful leaves to the fall season. The effortless way they communicate silently with matching armbands, a fire in Neil’s gaze and the slightest twitch of amusement to Andrew’s smileless lips.

Just like day and night.

We’re all born with something missing, so that we can find someone else to complete us, his mother once said so long ago. Kevin still believes it but living tends to carve out holes in everyone and it makes it easy to need more than one person.

He hopes it all goes away.

“You know, I always look for him,” Kevin says quietly, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs and he rubs his palms together. It’s an ache in his chest he can’t seem to get rid of. A void in his stomach that never goes away—it doesn’t matter what Kevin is stressed over because it’s there. It’s always there. “Even when I pretend I don’t care, I do. I care so much, I don’t know what to do.”

He sighs and peers over his shoulder to look at Thea sitting beside him. Her leg is crossed over the other, a thoughtful expression on her face as she listens. Kevin, though, didn’t come to her for advice but a peace of mind. To get it off his chest so it doesn’t affect his game on court. He’s not entirely sure if there’s anything to say about this.

Kevin can’t let anything go into ruin. He’d rather die than let that happen because he’d lose them both. It’s never one or the other, not when he wants something that’s his and could never be taken away. The scars on his hand and the two on his cheek made sure to engrave all of that into his soul.

“Are we talking about Neil? Or Andrew?” Thea asks and Kevin looks away. His silence answers her question and she places a tentative hand on his forearm. The touch draws his eyes back to her and he wishes he didn’t. He can’t stand that look in her eye. “It’s both, isn’t it? My god, Kevin.”

“I know.”

God, does he know.

Kevin drops his face into his hands.

It is incredibly easy to need someone but the cruelty of that, in which no one ever tells you about, is how excruciating it can be to need and want someone that isn’t yours the way you want them to be.

Kevin can practice and practice and burn himself down to the embers of his soul on the court until his stupid heart can give out but he will never have what he’s wishing for. Not here in this lifetime, not in the society where remaining heterosexual is easier, not when his entire life has been faced with cameras and articles.

Not when there’s countless people watching him at every turn.

In this moment, he finds himself wishing his mother was still alive to soothe him, offer reassurance or advice on how to navigate this issue because he has to be careful and watch what he says before it crumbles before him and he’ll need to start over.

“How did this happen?” Thea asks, carefully pulling Kevin’s hands away from his face before he has the thought to start spiraling in public.

Kevin shrugs helplessly with too many circumstances pounding at the doors of his mind, to allow his heart in and take control of the wheel, to guard the goal of logic and self-destruction. “I don’t know. It was easy to pretend it was nothing, that it is nothing, but I— It has to be nothing, Thea. I can’t have it not be nothing.”

“I can’t tell you what to do, Kevin. You can vent your frustrations. You can drink until you make yourself sick. You can try and fuck your way out of this but I can’t tell you what to do. I know you didn’t come to me for help so why are you asking me to help you?”

“I wasn’t,” Kevin sighs out.

“You implied it. I won’t tell anyone, you know that. And you also know that saying this out loud makes it into a bigger problem that you will need to fix,” Thea says without missing a beat, as harsh as she can but as supportive as she could be. Kevin appreciates the lack of sugar coating, though, she could’ve told him what he wanted to hear and they’d be parting in separate directions.

Kevin can’t talk about this to anyone.

Wymack seemed to pick up on it not that long ago and speaking as a coach—Kevin had to handle it, but speaking as a newly found father—Kevin could confess and request the advice he needs.

But it’s not the same as they’re still navigating the tightrope of their relationship.

It’s something only a mother could understand.

Kevin stands abruptly, brushing off Thea’s hands trying to pull him back and he doesn’t spare her glance. He merely shakes his head and inhales deeply. “I’m aware it’s a bigger fucking problem. It would’ve been easier if it was like what I had with you.”

“Kevin,” Thea scoffs and grips his arm to spin him around and face her. She rises to her feet as well and a frown settles over her face with furrowed brows and a narrowed glare. “Don’t walk away angry. You should’ve known what it would cost you if you got too involved. It might not be like what we had but it’s all the same, isn’t it? Don’t tell me you’re that stupid.”

“Should’ve known,” Kevin echoes and waves his hand around dismissively. “It’s not easy, Thea. I wasn’t in love with you.”

His words startle them both into still and stiff stances. Thea’s lips part and Kevin’s eyes widen.

Oh.

Is that what this feeling is?

The explanation for these dreams he has of them, daydreams and fleeting thoughts of what could be and what couldn’t be. The meaning to play with what if’s and obsessively watch over Andrew or Neil or the two of them when they’re in the same room. Is to love with a traitorous heart to believe the best of them, to act as a stepping stone to their victory and have a hand in crafting their futures because he only wants what’s best for them? Is to admire with wandering eyes tracking each and every mistake they make on court to help them work through it and grind it down into nothing so no one else can ever take advantage of them where they can feel somewhat safe away from what haunts them?

Is to speak with bitten lips as he glances once, then twice, then countless times in wonder of how it’d feel to have taste them on his tongue and swallow the sounds of their voices to always know it and always remember until the end of time?

Yes, he should have known what it would cost him for becoming too involved and too attached but the Foxes weren’t like the Ravens and sometimes, when speaking to Thea, he defaults to that mindset.

Kevin could ignore it before but he could never take those words back no matter how much he prayed and begged a god that would never listen. 

“You idiot,” Thea whispers and pushes at his shoulder harshly. “You idiot.”

“Don’t. Just…don’t.”

next

[wrestlersownmyheart]

"Yeet Of Fate" Chapter 3 (Jey Uso X Female Reader)

Title: Yeet Of FatePairing: Jey Uso X Reader

Summary: When you, an aspiring author, decide to take your skills to the world of wrestling, you decide to shadow and tag along with a couple of wrestlers to learn more about the sport for your upcoming book debut. None other than the Royal Rumble winner, Jey Uso, is the male wrestler you will be working with, and needless to say, that makes you nervous. You tell yourself, things will stay platonic. You tell yourself that…

Jey Uso is at the top of his game, the last thing he needs is a fan trailing around after him and fan girling all over the place. He wants to do his job, bask in the glory of it and call it a day. Not have to answer questions all day long from a wannabe writer. That’s how he feels, until he meets Y/N face to face. She isn’t what he expected. And he doesn’t like to be wrong. As beautiful as she is… He will keep things platonic. He tells himself that…

Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination.

Content/Trigger Warnings: Slight Blood Warning

Chapter 3

Jey drove back to the Sheraton quickly, but safely. He pulled into the parking garage and found a space to park in. Then before you could open the door and get out of the car, he took your arm and indicated that he would open the door for you.

“Thank you,” you replied when he opened the door and took your hand, helping you out of the vehicle.

“You’re welcome,” he answered. He didn’t let go of your hand right away and stared at you with his smoldering gaze. You looked down at your joined hands and avoided eye contact. His dark, chocolate eyes were too much. You noticed that on television as well, when he’d look into the camera, you had the urge to look away even then. But in person, it was even more intense.

His free hand reached up and tilted your chin back, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Don’t get all shy on me, now, Mama,” he mumbled. “I’ve seen exactly what you are capable of.”

“About that,” you said, “I hope you don’t think less of me. I was just having fun with the girls, and-”

“And?”

“And…the music got to me. Not to mention…you. You didn’t exactly try to stop me.  I’m not really one to…” You looked away again and he turned your face to his once more. You sighed. “To behave so promiscuously.”

“I didn’t think that was typically your style.”

You smiled. “Good. I’m glad.”

Still holding on to your hand, he led you to the elevator and you both rode up to your floor in silence. When the lift opened, he walked out of the elevator with you and let you lead the way to your door.  Once you reached it, you turned and faced him, a slight flush burning your face. “Thank you for getting Gunther to leave me alone, and for the dance–I had fun.

“Yeah, so did I,” he surprisingly admitted. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yes, I will probably shadow Rhea tomorrow, but yes, I’ll see you.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Y/N. Oh, and be sure you lock your door.”

You rolled your eyes and smirked cheekily at him. “Of course, I’m going to lock my door.”

“Watch that mouth,” he said, reaching up and brushing his thumb across the swell of your bottom lip. “I may have to give it something else to do besides run so much.” He immediately cursed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that I may have to kiss some of that sass out of you.”

Your face burned. “It’s okay. I didn’t think you meant it in a bad way.”

“I never said it was a bad way. I just said I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Jey…”

“Y/N…” he joked in a mocking way.

“Goodnight, Jey,” you said with a chuckle.

He smiled. His first real smile since you’d met him. “Goodnight, Mama.” He waited for you to go inside and until he heard the door lock before he left.

You immediately went to your bathroom and had a shower to refresh yourself and relax before bed. Once you were through, you pulled on your favorite teal-colored satin nightie that you loved to wear, and got comfortable in bed. You wrote a few things down in your notebook about the night’s events and how it could be a possible scene in your book. 

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep, but you came awake as a knock sounded at your door. You quickly rose to your feet and pulled on your robe before heading to the door. You looked through the peephole and saw Jey standing there, an almost pained expression on his face.

You quickly opened the door. “Jey? What’s wrong-”

He dashed forward and pulled you into his arms. His gaze stared at your face for the longest time before he spoke. “Gotta have you. Now.” 

Then his mouth was crashing into yours and he was kissing you as if there would be no tomorrow. He backed you into the room, past the door, and to your bed. He broke the kiss just long enough to gently push you down onto the large mattress and then he was on top of you, kissing you again. His hands went to the belt of your robe and quickly untied it, ripping the robe open and exposing your short nightie beneath.

“Jey,” you cried softly against his mouth. “What’s gotten into you?” Even as you asked the question, you kissed him back.

“You,” he growled. “I want you so bad it hurts.” He gave you another passionate, but short kiss, and then his lips tore from your mouth and settled against your neck, nipping the tender skin. 

“Oh, Jey… Yes…” you practically moaned the words as his mouth traveled down to your shoulder. 

“You like that,” he asked, his voice shaky.

“I do. Please don’t stop.”

“Oh, I’m just getting started, Mama…”

His hand slid down between the two of you and went lower, lower, even lower.

Is he really going to-?

Beep-Beep-Beep!

Your alarm jarred you awake and you let out a long breath. 

“Wow…”

Time to get ready for your day.

But, how in the world were you going to make eye contact with Jey after that dream?

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

You waited as Jey and Rhea finished up with the last of the greets they had to do. They each posed for photos and signed so many autographs until you thought their hands would fall off. You really admired them for what they did. It had to take a lot out of them, especially since they were constantly on the go. You didn’t see how they managed it.

“Y’all hungry,” Jey asked, as he stood from the signing table and you approached the two. You’d been careful to stay out of their way and not interfere with the fans’ experience. “Because I sure am.”

You nodded, avoiding his gaze, still thinking about your dream. 

“Why have you been so quiet today?” Rhea asked you, giving you a nudge with her elbow. “To be shadowing you sure haven’t asked many questions.”

“I just didn’t sleep well,” you replied quickly. “I guess because I was sleeping in a bed that wasn’t my own.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Rhea told you with a smile.

You nodded again and then the three of you were heading for the rental to go find a bite to eat.

“I vote Waffle House,” Jey said as you all climbed into the large SUV.

“Let me guess, the All-Star Special?” Rhea laughed.

“You know it! For real, for real.” 

Rhea laughed again and you chuckled at their enthusiasm for the Waffle House.

“So I take it that the Waffle House is good?” You asked from the backseat.

Jey had been backing out of the parking space, and nearly slammed on the breaks.

“Woman! You’ve never been to Waffle House?!”

“No.”

At your short and to-the-point answer, he floored the gas pedal and began heading for the nearest location.

“Jey! Don’t kill us,” Rhea exclaimed through her giggles. “The Waffle House isn’t going anywhere.”

“Sorry, but this is a five alarm fire that only I can put out!”

You and Rhea laughed and talked about what you might get as Jey drove for the restaurant.

No more than a half hour later, you were all settled in a booth at the Waffle House. You sat next to Rhea while Jey sat across from the two of you.

A waitress came up then and took your drink orders while also giving you menus. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes to take your order,” she told the three of you. And then proceeded to go get your drinks ready.

“I think I’m gonna get the Texas Bacon Cheesesteak melt,” Rhea reported, looking over the menu.

“Ooo, I want the Delmonico Steak and Eggs,” you said, eyeing the juicy steak.

You caught Jey looking at you as you glanced over the menu and smiled, “Hey, I love food, what can I say?”

“I wasn’t complaining,” he said. “I find it refreshing when a woman isn’t afraid to eat.”

“I’m certainly not that,” you joked.

“The worst is when you’re on a date, and they say, ‘Oh, I’ll just have a salad.” he mimicked a finicky eating woman and cracked you up laughing.

The waitress came back then with your drinks, and she quickly took your orders and left to get them started for you.

“Since when does Gunther eat at the Waffle House?” Rhea asked, discreetly motioning to her right.

“He’s probably just following me around to try and get in my head,” Jey answered, getting his phone out and scrolling through his X feed.

You glanced up, and felt that Jey was wrong.

Gunther was staring at you.

Uncomfortable, you looked away from the Austrian and focused on Jey and Rhea.

“So how excited are you guys for your title matches at Mania?”

Jey had a mixture of something cross his face that you couldn’t read. “I’m pumped!” He said, though you wondered if that was true judging by his initial reaction to your question.

“Me too,” Rhea said with a smile. “I can’t wait!”

Your plates arrived then, and you all settled down to eat.

Over the meal you discussed the next several days. Rhea and Jey, and many other wrestlers, were to be present for WWE World which was like a ComicCon for WWE–it lasted about five days. There was also the Hall of Fame ceremony which you planned to watch on the television at the hotel, so you wouldn’t be in anyone’s way. You couldn’t expect to be everywhere, after all.

And then there was night one and two of Wrestlemania. You couldn’t understand why, but you were nervous about it.

“Are you planning to go to the Hall of Fame with us?” Rhea asked suddenly, touching your arm. “It’s so fun! We dress up and party afterward.”

“How in the world will y’all get enough rest for Mania?” Jey and Rhea both laughed. “We’ll get plenty of rest. Don’t worry about us. We’re used to running on fumes.”

“So are you going?” Rhea persisted.

“Probably not. I don’t want to get in anyone’s way. And y’all will probably be tired of me by then,” you joked. “I’ll just watch on TV.”

Jey stared at you. He did that a lot. It made you nervous. You went back to your food and took a bite of steak.

You chewed and swallowed the bite as you saw Gunther rise from his table and began walking back toward your table. You really hoped he wasn’t about to cause some trouble.

That hope was in vain.

Gunther approached with his signature cocky smirk and you rolled your eyes. You looked over at Jey and he had a twinkle in his dark eyes as he gazed at you.

“I can see I already have our match won,” Gunther told Jey.

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that, G?”

“Because this little whore has you distracted. The championship is going to remain mine.”

Jey shot to his feet. “Call her that one. More. Time.”

Before you even realized what you were doing, you jumped up as well and got in between Jey and Gunther. “Jey… calm down. He’s not worth it.” He seemed to be ignoring you at first, until you placed the palm of your hand against his muscled chest and gently nudged him back. “We both know that you are leaving Las Vegas with that title. So calm down.”

This seemed to appease him, and he backed up a step. He looked at you with a respect in his eyes that nearly had you melting.

“She really does have you distracted,” Gunther chuckled. “I’d-”

“Oh, shut UP, Gunther!” You spun around and punched him in the mouth. He staggered backward, holding his mouth and then looked at his hand. It had a little blood on it. 

“You made me bleed,” Gunther said, a tone of surprise in his voice. “And I’m not done, you jackass!” You rushed at him again, but was instantly lifted over a broad shoulder. 

You heard Jey say, “Here, Rhea. Pay with my card. The food’s on me. I’ll take care of this one.” He swatted your rear end as you struggled to get free.

“Rhea, help me,” you whined. “Make him put me down.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Rhea laughed. “He seems pretty adamant about giving you a talking to.”

“Jey, put me down,” You hissed as he carried you through the restaurant to the exit. People were gawking and starting to laugh. “Everyone is staring!”

“Probably because you just punched a guy in the face.”

“No, they’re staring because you are being a-”

SWAT!

“Stop that!”

You were out on the parking lot now, and he was headed for the rental. He didn’t stop until he reached it and had the door open. He sat you down in the passenger seat and caged you in. 

“What do you think you were doing?”

“He was being a jerk!”

“He was, but you can’t just punch people for being jerks.”

“You do! It’s your job!”

His lips quirked up for an instant, as if he was fighting off a smile. “It is. It’s MY job.” He noticed you holding your hand that you punched with and gently took it in his own. “What’s wrong with your hand?” he asked softly.

“I think I connected with his tooth,” you said. “It hurts.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a cut,” Jey said, “eyeing your fingers. “Can you wiggle ‘em?”

You obeyed and wiggled your fingers. “Ow.”

“At least they’re not broken. Crazy woman.” He, to your surprise, leaned down and kissed your knuckles. “Thanks for talking me down in there. I’d hate to have gotten us kicked out of my favorite restaurant.”

“You’re welcome. And thank you for defending me.”

“You’re welcome.”

You stared at each other for a long moment, and then his head came closer to yours, slowly closing the gap between your faces.

“Okay, guys, dinner has been paid for!” Rhea exclaimed suddenly. She appeared just as the two of you jumped apart as if you’d been shot.

Was he really about to kiss me? You wondered. Surely not. But thanks Rhea, for the buzz kill, you thought, chuckling to yourself.

“What’s so funny,” Jey asked as Rhea climbed into the backseat.

“Oh, nothing,” you said quickly. “Just thinking about the look on Gunther’s face when I punched him.” 

“That was awesome,” Rhea laughed, patting your shoulder.

“Don’t encourage her,” Jey scolded.

“Let her live a little, Jey! Let her live a little.”

The drive to the hotel was full of conversation about the coming days and Wrestlemania. But soon, you reached the hotel and Rhea headed for her room, while you and Jey lingered at the car. 

You yawned, in major need of a nap.

“The schedule gettin’ to ya?”

“Just a little,” you admitted. “You guys must be superhuman!”

“Why don’t we get you up to your room and let you get a little sleep?”

You nodded, though you really wanted to spend more time with Jey.

He placed his hand on your lower back and urged you away from the car, guiding you to the elevator. 

Within minutes you were heading down the hallway of your floor, and stopped at your door. You really wanted a little more time with him despite being sleepy. “Would… Would you like to come in for a few minutes?”

“Yeah?” Jey looked surprised and nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

You unlocked the door and headed inside and waited for Jey to enter. Then you locked the door behind him. 

“Do you want a soda or something,” you asked.

“Nah, I’m good, thanks,” Jey replied. But he did head over to the kitchen counter and grabbed up a small towel, then walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out some ice which he loaded into the towel.

“What are you doing,” you asked, coming up beside him.

“Making you an icepack for that right hook you dished out.” He turned and placed the icepack to your hand. You winced initially, but then the cool of the ice soaked through to your bruised knuckles and you sighed in relief.

“So, uh, how are the notes coming along,” he asked you, as he led you over to the sofa. 

You both sat down on the small sofa and you smiled sleepily. “Pretty good. I think I’ve got enough to begin working on the rough draft of my book! Which makes me so excited. I’ve actually started working on it already. I’ve been staying up late, which is why I’m so sleepy,” you chuckled. 

“That’s great that you’re getting a start on it,” Jey smiled slightly and playfully slugged your shoulder. “I’m glad being with us has helped you.”

“It really has. More than you know.”

There was an awkward silence at first, and then Jey cleared his throat. “So, I heard you say you weren’t planning to go to the Hall of Fame Friday night…”

You nodded through another yawn, “Yeah. I don’t want to become a pest for you guys.”

“You’re not a pest. How would you like to go–be my date?”

“Really? Why? Is this a pity date?” You asked, wrinkling your nose. “Because that is so not-”

“It’s not a pity date at all,” Jey said. “I’m asking you to go because I want you to go with me, Y/N.”

You smiled. “Okay. Yes, I’d love to go. But I’ll need to go shopping for a dress. I wasn’t expecting to go to the Hall Of Fame, so I didn’t pack anything suitable.”

“I’m sure Nattie and my sister-in-law and Rhea would love the excuse to take you shopping.”

You giggled and then yawned and laid your head back against the back of the sofa. “That’s great to know.” You closed your eyes. Just for a minute…

}i{}i{}i{}i{}i{

Jey looked over at Y/N and saw that she appeared to fall asleep. 

“Y/N?” he whispered.

Nothing.

Chuckling to himself, he stood from the sofa and proceeded to lift Y/N up into his arms in a bridal carry. Then he was carrying her limp frame toward the bedroom and gently deposited her onto the large bed, pulling the covers up around her.

Leaning down, he brushed his lips across her forehead, and then her soft cheek. 

“Goodnight, Mama.” 

Then he was heading back to the living area and going out the door, checking to make sure it was locked before he left.

When he got back to his room, he sent her a quick text telling her that he’d put her to bed and that he’d see her tomorrow.

He stripped down to his boxers and lay down on his bed, falling fast asleep as well.

If you want on my tag list, Just ask! 😀

Tagging:

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[loveharlow]

What thoughts do you think are going through Rafes head when he found out JJ and tr we’re dating? Like after he got in a fight with him what do you think he did after?

thoughts?? I'll do you one better. here's what happened after the pogues drove off after rafe and jj's fight

*this can technically be read as standalone blurb but as a shameless self-plug, this is a bonus scene for my series SEVEN

swearing, mentions of r*pe/non-con

"Yo...man, you good?" Barry asked, bending down to help up a battered Rafe only to have his hand swatted away.

"...Don't need your goddamn help." Rafe muttered through a mouthful of blood, the boy pushing himself up off the grass. There was a dribble of blood trailing from the corner of his mouth to his chin, the crimson color consuming the entirety of his mouth as a nasty bruise formed on the side of his face. "Where's your gun?" Rafe breathed, wild blue eyes on the drug dealer next to him, palm out and facing upwards.

"Man, ain't no need for all that." Barry waved off the boy, turning away. "We need to lay low after that shit-"

"I didn't ask about what we need to do, Barry, I asked for your fucking gun-"

"Don't you see them lights through the trees?" Barry asked, getting increasingly annoyed, motioning to the flashing blur of red and blue through the gaps in the forest surrounding the trailer park as he whipped to face Rafe once more. "We needa get the fuck back inside. I can't have twelve on my ass right now, especially after the shit you just pulled-"

"Then go back inside!" Rafe roared, blood splattering in Barry's vicinity. "If you're so worried about the fuckin' cops, then go back in your goddamn trailer." Rafe hissed. "You...you think I'm gonna let some pogue think he has a one up on me? Not a chance in hell. Especially not JJ motherfucking Maybank." Rafe ranted, pacing the length of the overgrown yard. "That fuckin' piece of shit thinks he can put his fucking hands on me? On me?!" The erratic boy roared, fury blooming in his blue eyes as his fists balled at his sides, his breathing rapidly increasing as he moved to tug on his strands on hair.

"The fuck did you think would happen, Rafe?" Barry sneered, eyeing the Cameron boy with a hint of terror. "You kidnapped the girl. You drugged her. And you were about to do a lot more if I hadn't-" He reminded, counting each offense on his fingers.

"You did, too." Rafe retorted, shooting Barry a look. "Don't try and put all this shit on me." He warned, in a low and uncaring tone.

Barry seemed to get lost in his train of thought in that moment, eyes roaming Rafe's restless figure. "...That shit that was going around the island a couple months back, about you doin' somethin' to her..." The drug dealer started, his face contorting into something distantly relative of disgust. "That shit was true, wasn't it?"

Rafe simply side-eyed Barry before rolling his eyes, grinding his jaw as his thoughts ran rampant, ignoring his associate's line of questioning. But Rafe's lack of response seemed to be the only answer Barry needed.

"Nah..." The man shook his head, backing away from the Kook. "That's fucked up, man. No wonder Maybank jumped on you like that. You raped his girl-"

"Alright, just shut up!" Rafe snapped. "Okay? Shut up." He reiterated, his voice less desperate this time, more assertive. "Don't you ever say that shit again. She's not 'his girl'." Rafe mocked, face twisting into one of pure disgust and annoyance.

All Barry could do was laugh unbelievably. "She is, Country Club." He countered. "She always has been. And everyone but your dumbass seems to know that-"

"I had her way before he ever did!" Rafe shouted, getting closer to Barry. "Alright?! She's not his, she's mine." He asserted boldly, gaze firm. His jaw was clenched, fists balled as he turned to watch the flashing lights grow closer to the trailer park, making twists and turns through the trees. "And if I ever see Maybank again, I'll kill him." He nodded, breathing heavily and walking swiftly towards the trailer. "...I'll kill 'em all."

©loveharlow.

[seriouslycalamitous]

Dumb question, but im super slow! Do both Slayer/Gem and Furioso/Joel have hero costumes, or are they more like uniforms they are mandated to wear to show their association

for who they work for? Do they share some of the same features/ color pallets on their suites, or are they completely unique to their own fighting style/person. I know for sure that Furioso weilds dual swords and that Slayer specializes in the crossbow, but I was wondering if you could ever be so kind and expand on the details on each of their weapons in depth and how they look like, if they're unique to their own person. You've mentioned their armor being "heavy plating" and "orange and green," but I was wondering if that applied to both or just one of them? I just think it would be so awesome if you could tell me more about the cosmetics of their suites and weapons! If you end up answering this, I really appreciate you taking time out of ur day to answer this silly question!

AAAA i typed a whole like page long response and tabbed away to grab a reference picture and tumblr deleted EVERYTHING. I’m falling to my knees. i’ll do my best to remember what i wrote.

So, not a stupid question, i do want to answer it. I have actually talked about Joel’s costume in this other post before, but I’ll revisit some of it here too!

Just to preface though, I’m really really shit at fashion in real life and it kinda bleeds into my writing if i try to describe things in detail, so please excuse how little logical sense this is about to make

So, the Agency does have standards when it comes to costumes. Costumes usually have to be identifiable and easily differentiated from that worn by villains to prevent false reports from civilians, confusion during fights, accidental reactions from law enforcement, and so forth. It’s also good for marketing, though they wouldn’t mention that part in an interview.

They also have to have a certain amount of armor plating to protect themselves. Some heroes have to follow this rule less than others, typically the heroes whose powers affect the parts of the body.

Joel, for instance, has a costume that mainly prioritizes the protection of his upper body, since his legs need to be able to move for his high jump. Gem, however, has plating all over her body, as well as weapons and a quiver built into her suit.

Her suit is best explained as something akin to that of Black Widow in the MCU, but less risqué and with armor plating. The armor is orange with her suit beneath being more of a forest green. It doesn’t match heavily and that does kind of bother her, but it works with the Agency’s rules of being identifiable from a distance.

She has, as mentioned prior, a crossbow mounted on her arm. This is a bit clunky during battles, so she compensates for that by being a hard hitter who values lighting-fast movement. Her aim is impeccable, but villains recognize this, so it isn’t often she is able to fire off shots.

It resembles something similar to the picture above, compact enough to only inhibit her movements a little bit, but still large enough to fire off effective bolts. There is a fabric quiver sewn onto her back to make for easy access.

As for her hair and face, she few a bit more liberties there. Her hair has a lot of leaves and flowers braided into it, and is kept in a high bun atop her head. I cannot off the top of my head recall if i mentioned what covers her face (keeping up with this stuff is hard without help) and i’m too scared to exit out of the app now because it might delete my hard work. For the time being though, if I said nothing, let’s just state now that she has a green mask covering her eyes, her upper nose, and a bit of her cheeks, which spirals out into the shape of vines and leaves.

[inkie-does-whump]

Hi! I’ve been thinking about your lab au and was wondering, what are the lifer’s specialties and what are they advertised as? Like, you mentioned Etho specializing in coding and Scott being advertised as a personal assistant, so I’m curious about the others! Just whoever you have things for already is fine! Oh, and how do the watchers decide how to advertise as what? Hope you have a lovely day and remember to stay hydrated!

I've been keeping this ask on the back burner for a while now, and every time I check my asks I see it and remember to drink water lol

When it comes to what jobs the subjects are rented for, the Watchers have suggestions but it's ultimately up to the renter.

Sometimes the Watchers will ban subjects from certain types of work due to... Hazards. For example, Joel is not allowed to do any type of public service work due to his tendency to bite literally anyone he can get his teeth on. Instead those jobs will get filled by someone else, Pearl, Scott and Martyn all work well in that field.

Renters can sort their purchase by subject or by the work they're best suited for. You know you like Lizzie? Easy peasy, just click and click and she'll be at your door in a day! Or do you know you need someone to do a job, but don't care who exactly? Sort by their work and you'll have a whole list of subjects that can help you!

Technology problem? Here's information on Mumbo, Etho, Impulse, Tango and Doc! Take your pick!

Need someone to do manual labor? We've got a list of subjects for that too!

Additionally, their website automatically sorts itself by location. Since there are several locations, renters probably want to order from the lab closest to them. And if they want a specific subject that's not near them, they'll be shuttled to the closest lab before being sent from there to the renter.

Why is it that Scott is in nearly EVERY smp? Well, he just has lots of fans all over :3

When the Watchers get a new renter, they will be categorized by skill. Of course the Watchers already know tons about them from their background checking before the kidnapping, but they also let new subjects have unlimited access to the Practice Room to see what they naturally gravitate to.

Hmm, seems like Cleo likes art? Let's make sure she's suggested for architecture, and painting murals, and sculpting.

Tango is immediately drawn to the trinkets and wires? IT work! Engineering! Welding!

You might think the Watchers would want to avoid putting subjects with work they enjoy, but they actually do it on purpose. They force the subjects to associate the things they enjoy with work. Unrelenting work.

For example

Lizzie is used to unwinding via painting. She's been pushed to her limits all day, she just needs a moment to herself. Something to get her mind off all the demands.

But her paintbrushes have been in her hands all day. She's covered in colors. The thought of painting anything else today makes her sick.

So she just goes to her room, and lays in bed, and stews in her exhaustion and anxiety.

The Watchers eat it up.

Rarely, like in Gem's case, subjects will be captured for a very specific purpose without regard for their skills or enjoyment.

Gem was taken just for her body. Her whole purpose tied up in lace and corsets. She's here to look nice and be agreeable and be punished if she doesn't comply.

Her biology degree doesn't matter. Her scientific studies will be abandoned.

She doesn't need any knowledge in her pretty little head actually. She doesn't need to be able to do anything with her hands.

She just needs to smile and nod. To do just what she's told.

To answer your original question, here's a quick rundown of the popular jobs and who it suggested for them:

Technology: Etho, Impulse, Tango, Mumbo

The arts: Cleo, Bdubs, Scar, Lizzie

Manual labor: Impulse, Cleo, Skizz, Jimmy, Joel

Public service: Pearl, Scott, Martyn,

Escort: Gem, Lizzie, Scott

Pet/childcare: Cleo, Scar, Jimmy

Home assistant: Skizz, Scott, Jimmy

Grian doesn't get rented anymore, and Ren is only ever rented for one very specific reason

[ludolka]

A small Activity detected ficlet for you guys, because my previous post about Joel’s favorite color being purple wasn’t leaving my mind

Word count: around 1800 ; mostly told from Joel’s perspective, also it’s dialogue heavy

“Actually, my favorite color is purple. One specific shade of purple really”

Joel interrupted Jimmy’s ramblings about color association. He wasn’t sure how this topic started, but it started with Lizzie and Oli having an argument with Jimmy about color theory and it has since turned into Jimmy listing which color he associates with whom. It was one of those late night drives after a recording with the heating turned on, which made everyone even sleepier and that usually resulted in everyone just talking about whatever came to mind

“Wait, really? But you are the green guy. Why purple?”

Jimmy sounded baffled which got a chuckle out of Joel. He was a man of many surprises after all. But it got the rest of the car’s attention on him, seemingly now more awake than before

“Dunno, I just like it better. It’s prettier than green”

Joel just shrugged and kept his hands on the wheel. It wasn’t that big of a deal, not to him at least. He glanced over to the passenger seat where Grian sat. Grian didn’t contribute to the color argument, he cozied up to the door with his legs loosely hugged to his chest, leaning his head against the window. Joel thought he was asleep, but he now saw him staring back at him with furrowed brows. He didn’t dwell too much on it, turning his attention back to the road after a second

“Oh wow, big character development here then. Which shade do you like?”

Lizzie sounded excited about figuring it out. She was big into colors, she was an artist after all, so she wanted to be able to picture which specific shade it was since Joel added that detail instead of just sticking to the all-encompassing purple

“I don’t know its name”

Joel hummed and laughed again at Lizzie’s sigh at his response. It was expected, but it made her job of finding it harder

“Of course you don’t. Do you even know some of the names of the shades of purple?”

Joel could hear the eye roll in her tone, making him smile harder

“Not really, I usually just say purple and whether it’s light or dark if I need to specify it”

“You’re such a man. Alright, let’s find your purple then. Can you describe it?”

Joel rolled his eyes with a smile at that comment, hearing the three in the back laugh at it. He glanced over at Grian again, who looked like he was studying him. He thought for a moment, recalling the purple he was thinking about

“It’s a light purple”

He concluded with a nod, like that was enough information for Lizzie to find that one specific shade

“Very descriptive. Is it more blueish or pinkish?”

“A bit more pinkish I think”

“And how light is it? Is it a pastel?”

“Uhh, I don’t think it’s that light”

While he wouldn’t have admitted it to the others, he was kind of glad Lizzie was this invested in finding it. He wouldn’t have looked by himself, he didn’t care to know enough, but it would be nice to put a name to the color. He could look it up that way if he ever wanted to see it outside his dreams. There was a bit of silence and he could hear her tapping on her phone

“Okay I pulled up a basic shades of purple image with names. This is kind of hard with you driving and you also not knowing the names. Does lavender or mauve mean anything to you?”

“Not really”

Lizzie sighed again as she thought about what other basic questions she could ask to get closer to the answer when Grian turned back and held out his hand

“Let me see”

She handed the phone over to him and after he found a comfortable sitting position again he looked at the screen. He seemed to be in thought for a bit before typing something and turning the phone over to Joel to look at

“Just a hunch, but could it be lilac or lavender? Here’s the two next to each other, just glance at them”

Joel glanced at the phone for a second, it was easier to pick out a color when it was just two options instead of having to look through multiple. He frowned a bit at just how accurately Grian narrowed it down to only two

“Oh, yeah, the pinker one, that’s similar, just maybe not that light”

Grian nodded and typed a bit again before turning the phone to Joel again. He sounded tense for some reason Joel couldn’t figure out

“Okay, how about this?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. How did you know? Do you see inside my head or something? You kinda creep me out sometimes”

Joel laughed it off, Grian’s ability to correctly guess things or just know things have long stopped freaking him out. It bothered him in the beginning, Grian’s uncanny ability to seemingly stare into his soul and just know things he shouldn’t, but he has gotten used to it by now. It even comforted him sometimes, having someone understand him without having to say anything. And it has became just one of those unsettling, but somehow endearing things about Grian that made him him

“I’m not that surprised, you two sometimes act like you can telepathically talk to each other. But what’s the name?”

Judging by the giggles and Lizzie’s teasing tone, no one else was all that bothered by Grian just knowing the exact shade Joel was thinking about

“Bright lilac”

Grian quietly told them while he handed back the phone to her, so she and the boys beside her could take a look. Joel made a mental note of the name and when he glanced over to Grian again, he was turned towards the window again

“You’re right, it is a pretty color. It is also very specific for someone who doesn’t care about colors. Why bright lilac in particular?”

It was Oli’s voice from the back this time. Joel hummed and maybe it was the tiredness, but he didn’t think too much about how to respond and just said the first thing that came to mind. It was almost 1 am after all

“It’s the color of my dreams. Like actual dreams”

He felt himself get a bit flustered and immediately regretted opening up like this because of the reaction he got for that. Oli and Jimmy laughed and Lizzie cooed, but non of it felt teasing or mocking, which somehow made it worse

“And you say I’m corny. I never took you for a guy who cares about dreams and their meanings”

Jimmy mused after his laughter died down

“Because I don’t. But this color is in a lot of them and it’s grown on me”

Joel shrugged again, accepting how they aren’t going to let this topic go and just decided to play along. He could see Grian tense up in the corner of his eye

“Ooh let’s check out what it means to dream with the color purple, I’m curious now”

Lizzie piped up again, taking her phone out again and typing away. Oli and Jimmy glanced over at her phone and they seemed just as excited to potentially learn more about Joel as she was

“You can, but I don’t think it’ll be accurate”

Joel shook his head with a smile. He doubted they’d get the right answer or if there even was a right answer. He doubted the color purple symbolized anything in particular. He of course wouldn’t tell them he already knew where the purple came from, how it’s the color of his birdie’s eyes and wings. They couldn’t water board that information out of him that he has been regularly dreaming about Grian, or well not exactly Grian, but a winged, more eccentric version of him in this color

“Shut up, it’s fun. Alright, first article doesn’t say a whole lot, it just kinda walks you through what purple usually symbolizes and how it’s unique to everyone what it means in a dream. Not the most helpful. Huh, another says purple is linked to psychic abilities and the supernatural. Maybe this hobby is having a bigger effect on your subconscious than you’d think”

Lizzie summarized what she was reading while she skimmed over the articles and whatever results Google gave. Her last comment was obviously meant as a dig at their resident sceptic, but this association stood out to Joel

“The supernatural, huh?”

He quietly said mostly to himself as he mused over his thoughts regarding birdie again

“It also says purple symbolizes royalty, power, spirituality and luxury. Oh interesting fun fact, a lot of ancient leaders wore purple because they were thought to be descendents of gods. So I guess it can symbolize godhood in a way as well?”

Lizzie added, either not hearing or ignoring Joel’s comment. This sparked even more intrigue in him

“I think you’re getting too into it when it’s not this deep”

Grian interjected with a somewhat annoyed tone, not turning away from his window. Joel could feel he obviously didn’t want to talk more about this topic, like it hit a nerve or something for him, but he couldn’t understand why. He liked to think he knew Grian pretty well, they were close after all, but Grian was still unpredictable and full of surprises sometimes. Just like birdie

“I like that though, my favorite color is the color of a god. That seems fitting”

And it did. From Joel’s perspective birdie always had this air of divinity around him that he couldn’t explain, but could feel regardless. And the other descriptions were fitting too, power, royalty and luxury. He could easily describe birdie with those adjectives among many other things. He never thought of him as a god before though, or as anything other than Grian really. But it felt strangely right for him to see him as something divine, something sacred, something only for his eyes to see and his hands to touch. Maybe he romanticized birdie a bit too much, but it was his dream and fantasy after all. It wasn’t reality. He chased away the creeping thought that that would imply he saw Grian as something divine and his subconscious amplified that in his dreams. He wasn’t that down bad

“Of course you’d think it’s fitting with your god complex”

The three in the back laughed at Jimmy’s comment and when Grian finally glanced over at Joel for the first time since the name of the shade has been found out, he didn’t see the expression he expected. He expected maybe annoyance or a smug smirk, but instead Joel looked content and had a soft smile, his eyes never leaving the road ahead as he looked deep in thought, no longer paying attention to the people in the car

[celesomnis]

anon thank you VERY MUCH for the ask!! 🥹 It had so many good questions in it, and was very thorough in detail /pos!!! I hope you don't mind me breaking it up and answering different individual questions in it over several posts! I want to give each q some real time and answer :D BUt here if the first answer to the first inquiry~!

Cinder and the Second Years －•・

[character dynamics under the cut!]

Cinder is not quite eighteen yet when he's hired as the NRC janitor, which would put him alongside all the Second Year crew, age-wise! Unsurprisingly, the princess boys have an almost supernaturally high connection. They're first meeting does not go . . . as peacefully I think people expect (cough cough hints at a fic i'm writing c o u g h) but besides that initial hitch, they DO become very quickly close. It's almost like their souls were friends before their persons were. (The odd, mutual influence over small cute creatures is also a bonding point.) Silver is also one of the few people to call Cinder by his real name Avery, because true names are important to Silver. Jamil as well! Since he and Cinder have a lot in common socially/expectation'ally. The servitude situation would definitely mirror some of Jamil's own experiences. Not nearly to the same extreme of course, but it does give them a direction of bonding during their initial friendship! It's very possible they become venting buddies lolol. Cinder's resolve of unwavering kindness and keeping a pure heart during HIS situation might eventually begin to butt heads with Jamil's long simmering resentment over his own circumstances though. ... Or, he'd envy Cinder for it ...... Or admire it?? Idk. Some more advanced-knowledged Jamil girlies (gn) may have to pipe in for that!  Cinder and Kalim are friendly, but there is the small case that Jamil got to Cinder first, so Cinder's impression of Kalim was a little colored by what was told to him. But! (Unless for in extreme cases) Cinder isn't someone who lets that affect him into being impolite to anybody. So he and Kalim are kind to one another! It's sorta the equivalent of meeting your good friend's coworker, who is very nice, but you've also very mentally privy to everything your friend has complained about them whilst they've worked together lol lol RUGGIE! I love ruggie 🥺 so my bias might have affected Cinder into being extra nice to him lol. he's innocent of all crimes, your honor. Trust, I was there. In all seriousness, I like to think Cinder would be sweet to him and care for him - much alike Cinderella did to GusGus and the other mice in the movie! Leaving him little snacks in a special cuboard in the kitchen, sewing him some new clothing items when Ruggie's stuff starts to weather. Affectionate big brother vibes, even though Cinder is like only two months older than him lol. So,,, Cinder and the Heartslabyul crew would be great pals, but purely from repeated plot related accidents - they just keep ending up on opposing sides of situations. 😭 There was the unbirthday mouse kidnapping situation with Ace, a secondary "chandelier situation" with Deuce, a haywire Magicam post incident with Cater that almost got Cinder fired, and a smaller kitchen fire mishap that partly involved Trey. Riddle specifically though ---- they're cool with each other. There's no incident that associates a negative memory between them. Cinder wasn't hired yet during Riddle's overblot, so they bypassed that whole drama. Riddle admires Cinder's work resolve and adherence to the integrity of the school too, so if anything, I think the fact that so many Hearts students keep accidentally inconveniencing Cinder is mildly embarrassing for Riddle 😭 Cinder does not really have the fondest impression of the Octavinelle boys, and it's solely because of the AMOUNT OF MOPPING HE HAS TO DO around their Dorm entrance. There's a good, long while between when Cinder is hired, to when Dire Crowley starts permitting him to clean within the actual dorms. So luckily that saves Cinder from having to deal with the lounge for awhile, but yeah.. also, Floyd lowkey make Cinder feel a liiiittle unsafe fhjddhjsk So Cinder doesn't start getting to know them until much later.

Thank you for reading~! 🩵✨ ;v;

[officeofcommanderfox]

7. You're not as bad as everyone saids you are. (Reader saying to Fox)

22. If you're still wondering who left flowers at your desk I think I'm ready to put your mind at ease. (Reader surprising Fox with flowers.)

I’m excited to see how you would maneuver these into the story.

Thank you so so much for your ask @darkangel4121 and please accept my (@firstofficerwiggles) apology for the delay in the response. Life has been rather crazy for me. Big props to my co-author @imabeautifulbutterfly for keeping the ship running. But now without further ado, we give you...

The Commander & The Civvie, Chapter 6

Previous Chapter | Fic Main

Pairing: Commander Fox x female reader

Rating: T

Warnings: flirting, suggestive talk

Prompts: 7. You're not as bad as everyone says you are. (Reader saying to Fox)

22. If you're still wondering who left flowers at your desk I think I'm ready to put your mind at ease. (Reader surprising Fox with flowers.)

“This is all a big mistake! You dumb clones don’t know who I am, and when you find out, you’ll regret it!” A large man in a cheap suit was making quite the ruckus as Commander Fox marched him down the corridor.

“Get in there and keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you,” Fox snapped as he shoved the criminal into the holding cell. His armor was sporting new blaster marks courtesy of his latest arrest.

“Don’t act so high and mighty, clone boy, my lawyer will have me outta here before breakfast,” the sleazy gangster sneered in Fox’s direction. 

“Another Black Sun lowlife, I presume?” Thorn inquired.

“Yes, and this one is charged with assaulting a Marshall Commander of the Grand Army of the Republic, so he will be going away for quite some time,” Fox announced in a voice loud enough to carry back to the man in question.

A string of rather colorful swearing answered in response.

Fox and his men had been rounding up Black Sun members and their known associates for a couple weeks now. He was determined to find the men responsible for making threats on your life. Unfortunately the slimy underworld dirtbags seemed to have a team of slimy underhanded lawyers at their disposal such that Fox felt lucky if he could get them past arraignment. But charges against a GAR officer were now being taken more seriously thanks to a new bill introduced by Senator Amidala. It often meant baiting these criminals into taking a cheap shot at him, but he felt it was worth it when it meant charges that wouldn’t be easily dismissed. 

As your boss made his way back into your shared office space, you couldn’t hold back a sound of worry,

“Oh no! More blaster scarring? I wish you’d stop making yourself a target, Commander.”

“It’s just a scratch, nothing I can’t fix,” he said with a shrug, although secretly he felt a pleasing warmth in his stomach when you fussed over him. 

You were already hurrying over to him with a fresh cup of caf and a med kit. 

Fox chuckled, “No med kit needed, Starlight, this new armor is reinforced.” 

He took off his helmet and took a deep sip of the caf, humming appreciatively as the warm liquid soothed his throat. When he looked back at you, there was a worried frown on your face and you were shuffling from foot to foot. Setting down his cup with a soft sigh, Fox held out his arms and rotated in a slow spin in front of you.

“Go ahead and look, Starlight, no serious damage, I promise you,” he stated.

You carefully inspected him, eyes darting to examine all the sensitive spots between his armor plating. There was a questionable spot on his side, but upon closer inspection. you realized it was just a loose thread from his black under armor shirt. As you heard Fox clear his throat you looked back up at him, meeting his eyes and realized just how close you were standing to him. You could smell his aftershave mixed with the scent of caf. 

“Do I need to take off my armor or maybe strip down for further inspection?” Fox asked, raising an eyebrow and smirking at you, “Tell me, Starlight, is that your plan? To finally see more of me.”

The thought of Fox stripping off his armor in front of you gave you a jolt and you suddenly felt overly warm. You surprised yourself by how much you did want to see him like that, to know exactly how well-built your commander really was. Your surprise must have shown on your face because Fox stepped a bit closer, giving you a sly little smile,

“You can ask if that’s what you want, I’m not shy,” he teased.

“I- I- n-no, I don’t need that, you look great- I mean you look uninjured,” you babbled at him.

Fox laughed as he stepped away and went back to his caf, “Thanks for checking me out.”

“I wasn’t- it wasn’t like that,” you blurt out, face burning with embarrassment

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Starlight,” he quipped before settling in at his desk.

You were making your way home still thinking about the Commander and his teasing. He had kept it up most of the day, smirking at you across the office and saying flirtatious little things to get a reaction from you, which he managed to do each time. It made you feel good, yet surprised, 

When did I start wanting him to flirt with me? 

This thought was still running through your head as you arrived at your building. There was a beautiful flower and gift shop on the ground floor, and their colorful display window caught your eye. 

“Show someone you care!” a large banner declared as it hung above several beautiful arrangements. There was one in particular, full of red and white blooms in a silver cup, that you were drawn to.

“You have a unique eye.” 

The voice pulled you from your musings, when you saw the florist, a middle aged man with a warm smile, standing at the entrance. 

“I'm sorry?”

“The arrangements. I arranged these for the boys in red. But it's not selling as well as I’d hoped.” 

“The boys in red?” 

“The Coruscant Guard. I was hoping people would purchase it and send it as a thank you for all the work those clones do. Plus I donate the profits to Dex's diner, where a clone can eat for free.” 

The smile on your lips expanded as you listened to his promotion, “That's such a brilliant idea. I work with them and I can tell you, most people don’t realize how hard and how much they work for all of us.” 

“That they do, but somehow, I don't think you were looking at the flowers with every clone in mind. You had someone specific running through your head, didn't you?”

Blood rushed to your face, as he spoke. You prayed he couldn't tell. 

“Um… yes.” You cleared your throat being as professional as you could, “The Marshall Commander personally saved me from an incident so I was thinking of getting him some flowers. Well maybe not just him.” 

“Why don't you come in and we can arrange something special for your savior,” he teased with a smile. 

Two hours later as you sat on your couch in your pjs, you couldn't help but replay the order you submitted to the helpful florist. Maybe it was a mistake to send the bouquet, after all you did send a rather large bouquet to the Commander… well, your Commander, as the florist kept insisting. You wondered if the card was enough or maybe it was too much. Was it all too much? 

Fox stood on the main floor of the Senate building with all his officers and prisoners, the air was filled with tension and anxiousness. Everyone was on edge, as they waited for news from the squad sent to investigate Fox’s office. 

“What's going on?” you asked as you finally made your way through the crowd, once you had been redirected from the Guard building entrance. 

“There you are!” Fox exclaimed in relief. 

“Commander, what's going on?”

He held up his finger as he commed Thorn, once he informed Thorn you were safe, he turned his attention back to you. 

“We're dealing with a possible incendiary device.” 

“Oh my gods.” Your hand moved to cover your mouth, as the shock from what Fox said caused you to open wide. “What happened? Did the Black Sun send a threat? Was it a mailed package? Or did someone leave a suspicious looking bag?”

“No. They're too clever for that. They sent flowers.” Fox reported, making the innocent word sound sinister.

“Eep...” a little yip left your lips as you blinked your eyes a few times trying to register what he just said. “Did you say flowers?”

“Hold on,” Fox held up his hand, as Thorn came from the joint corridor between the Guard building and the Senate building, carrying a rather large bouquet of flowers. As you suspected it was the very same bouquet you had sent to the Commander. 

You swallowed slowly, hoping no one was looking at you and noticing the look of horror on your face as it dawned on you that you were the reason for the evacuation. If the ground would open up and swallow you whole in this moment, that would just be fantastic. Or a heart attack, better yet, a heart attack would be better. They could just bury you with the flowers and no one would be wiser.

Come on, heart. Just start attacking.

“All clear, Commander. There were no incendiary devices, it was just–,” Thorn snorted as his mouth shifted fighting the laughter, “Flowers. Ahem! For you.” He passed Fox the bouquet of flowers and the card. 

Fox felt his face flush beet red, he didn’t know what joker thought this would be a hilarious prank, but the last thing he needed was 500 pairs of eyes watching him and asking a bunch of questions. He straightened up, turned his head and used his Commander voice. “All right. You heard the man. All clear. What are you waiting for?” He ordered his men back upstairs, and led by example, by moving towards the first lift available. It had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact he needed to be alone or avoid the curious glances directed toward him and his flowers. 

As everyone began heading towards the elevators, you remained grounded in your spot, blinking back the tears and shock that you were single-handedly responsible for this debacle, not to mention, the embarrassment of the man you admired in front of his men and what felt like at least half the senate. You closed your eyes praying for sweet death. 

“It's all good, mesh'la.” Thorn chuckled, “I think this is yours.” He passed you the invoice. Your eyes drifted to the piece of flimsi, your eyes focusing on that one spot, the one part that shone as bright as the sun, your name, “It was stuck to the bottom of the bouquet. Don't worry I won't say anything.” Thorn continued to chuckle as he left you standing there really hoping you’d die of embarrassment now.

Fox kept the bouquet on his desk, turning the card in his hand over and over, wondering who in the haran would have sent him flowers.

At first, he imagined it could’ve been Senator Amidala, a sort of, keep-up-the-good-work type of encouragement, or maybe he thought this was just a treat from her, but she had no idea what he was referring to. Then he considered it might have been one of his clone brethren, a vain attempt to try and humiliate him, but they all denied it. Wolffe especially seemed offended at such a childish prank, and Cody wasn't going to let him live it down any time soon. Rex, well he couldn’t stop laughing for a good five minutes.

He had spent a whole day on this and nothing. Not one clue. The card itself held a rather cryptic, albeit bemusing, message. There was no name of the flower shop either on the card nor the flowers themselves, and there had been no record of the delivery, which had led to his original assumption that these flowers were ill-intended. 

“Ahem! Commander” your voice was barely above a whisper, so it was no wonder that Fox didn't react right away. “Commander.” Your voice rang through a little louder this time.

Fox shifted his eyes away from the flowers and focused on you, 

“Oh, Starlight. Sorry. This day has been weird, and my mind is all over the place.” 

He cleared his throat and put the card down, giving you his undivided attention, “Anyway, what can I do for you?” 

You stepped in, closing the door behind you, as you began fidgeting with the hem of your top, “Um, I need to tell you something.”

“Okay.”

You took in a deep breath, closing your eyes briefly wondering if telling him the truth was the right thing to do. Obviously, it was. After the mess you caused this morning, not to mention his own embarrassment, he had a right… no, he deserved to know the truth. 

“Commander, if you're still wondering who left flowers at your desk, I think I'm ready to put your mind at ease.” 

“Sorry, ready to put my mind at ease?”

You nodded, trying to avoid looking into his warm, tender eyes, “Please don't be upset. But it was me.” 

Fox's eyes widened, “You?” 

“You're not as bad as everyone says you are.” 

His eyes went from his Starlight to the card he received with the flowers. There was the message just as she had quoted, word for word. 

A million questions ran through his mind, and yet rather than asking a thing, he started laughing. He laughed so hard tears came to his eyes and his cheeks ached. It was the most enthusiastic laugh you’d heard in a long time, and it was certainly the happiest you’d ever seen your Commander. He held his forehead as his elbow rested on the desk while he shook his head. 

“Starlight, only you could cause an incident on such a colossal scale.”

“I'm sorry. I never imagined–,” 

“Did you mean it?” He cut you off. 

“Sorry?” 

“Did you mean what you wrote?” 

“Every word.” 

He nodded as he stood walking over to you, gently cupping your cheek, “You… you baffle me.” He gently stroked your cheek, the shock and surprise of his actions written all over your face, which only made him smile brighter, “Starlight. Have dinner with me.”

Send Commander Fox an ask and continue the story!

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[milgram-en]

Trial 2 - Mikoto Kayano Interrogation (English Translation)

T/N: If using/reuploading/reposting this translation, do not remove nor crop the translator's notes, do not color code the translations, and do not change the translations. Additional Translator's Notes will be found in the replies. Check the original post before reblogging as TLs are occasionally revisited and edited.

Q.01 妹とは仲がいい？ そリゃもう 又が都会で頑張ってるとこ現せてあげたいね

Q.01 Are you on good terms with your sister? Of course I want to show her that her big brother's still hanging on, doing their best in the big city, y'know?

Q.02 転職は考えていないのか？ ないよ 苦労して入った最大手だし しんどくても頑張れば報われる

Q.02 Haven't you thought of changing jobs? No way! I went through a lot to get into such a big company Even if it's draining, if you work hard, your efforts will be rewarded

Q.03 結婚願望はあるか？ あるある 実績話んで独立してからの話だけどね

Q.03 Do you have a desire to get married? I mean that's how it usually goes Though I'm only talking about when I've established myself as a person and independently supporting myself

Q.04 両親の離婚の原因は？ 家庭と何で仕事を取ったってだけの話だよ まぁ、母から聞いた話だしわかんないけどね

Q.04 What was the cause of your parents' divorce? Choosing work over family Well- At least that's what my mother told me so, who knows?

Q.05 一審の判決についてどう思う？ 纳得いかないよ でももうわからない

Q.05 What do you think about the outcome of the first trial? I don't get it But I don't get anything anymore

Q.06 別の人格の存在をどう感じている？ 本当にあるなら 不安だよ 知らないうちになにか起きるなんて

Q.06 How do you feel about the existence of another personality? If there really is I'm worried I can't believe something like that was happening without me knowing T/N: The term "another personality" is based on what Mikoto's vocabulary is reasonably consisted of and how Mikoto would translate it due to that. An alternate translation—a more clinical one—would be: "How do you feel about the existence of another self-state?" Regarding 知らないうちにが起きるなんて (shiranai uchi ni ga okiru nante), it has a temporal nuance hence the usage of the progressive gerund "-ing" in "happening". While 起きる (okiru) can mean "to occur", "to happen" fits more in this sentence's context as "occur" is associated with expected events, whereas "happen" is associated with unplanned events. In this case, since Mikoto still expresses doubt and uncertainty about whether he has "another personality" (as indicated by なら (nara, meaning "if")), "happen" was chosen.

Q.07 マヒルのことをどう思う？ ひどいよね あれをぼくがやったなんて 信じられるわけないだろ

Q.07 What are your thoughts regarding Mahiru? It's disgusting To think I did something like that It's hard to believe T/N: ぼく(boku), meaning "I/Me", is spelled in hiragana. The usage of が (ga) in ぼくがやったなんて (boku ga yatta nante) implies that the writer of this interrogation answer feels that they have a lack of control over the ぼく(boku) that supposedly did those acts.

Q.08 罪悪感はあるか？ 覚えてないことに どう罪悪感そもてばいいんたよ

Q.08 Do you have any feelings of guilt? How can I feel guilt about something I don't remember?! T/N: A more accurate translation for the question would be "Do any feelings of guilt exist [within you]?", however it sounds unnatural in English.

Q.09 人を殺したいと思ったことはあるか？ ない そんなのあるわけない

Q.09 Have you ever wanted to kill someone? No There's no way that could ever happen

Q.10 柀害者に申し訳ないと思わないのか？

Q.10 Don't you feel sorry for the victims?

Q.11 気になる囚人はいるか？

Q.11 Is there a prisoner that interests you?

Q.12 コトコについてどう思っている？ きにいらない

Q.12 What do you think about Kotoko? I don't like her T/N: きにいらない (ki ni iranai) has nuance where, in this context, Mikoto is not pleased nor satisfied with Kotoko.

Q.13 お前にとって暴力とはなんだ？ たすけたかった

Q.13 What does violence mean to you? I just wanted to help

Q.14 自分の名前についてどう思う？ わるくない

Q.14 What do you think about your self's name? Not bad T/N: 自分の名前 (jibun no namae) means "oneself's name" but it sounds unnatural in English, hence "your self's name", a purposeful space between "your" and "self" since 自分 (jibun) is a pronoun that sounds distanced from the self (hence it's meaning of "oneself").

Q.15 お前が赦せないものはなんだ？ ぼくをこまらせるもの

Q.15 What can you not forgive? Things that trouble me T/N: The usage of を (wo), as opposed to が (ga), has a nuance that the "things that trouble" him are out of 09's control— that the troubling things have much more control over 09's agency.

Q.16 命にかえてでも守りたいものはあるか？ ぼくのいのちだ

Q.16 Is there something you would protect even at the cost of your life? My life T/N: 「ぼく」 (boku, hiragana) is a first-person pronoun meaning "I/Me/Myself", usually used by masculine persons. In this context, an alternate but accurate translation that sounds unnatural in English would be: "Q.16 Is there something you would protect even at the cost of your life? Me's life"

Q.17 なぜ赦されなかったかわかるか？ おれのせいだ

Q.17 Do you understand why you weren't forgiven? It's my fault T/N: 09 uses 「おれ」 (ore, hiragana) in this question, whereas in Neoplasm, ore is spelled in katakana as 「オレ」 according to the scriptbook. "Ore" is a first-person pronoun that means "I/Me/Myself" that makes its speaker sound like they're arrogant, rough, uneducated and/or brash, but it also makes the speaker sound like they're strong. Some guys use ore to look strong in order to avoid being bullied or to simply look strong.

Q.18 もう一人の自分に言いたいことはあるか？ ごめんなさい

Q.18 Is there something you want to say to the other you? I'm sorry T/N: An alternative translation of the question is: "Is there something you want to say the other singularity of a person within you?"

Q.19 運動神経は良い方か？ そこそこじゃない？ 元高校球児だし でも設運動してないし微妙かも

Q.19 Are you good at sports? I'm decent, I guess? I was a high school baseball player But I don't exercise now so my sports skills are up for question

Q.20 生まれ変わったらまた自分になりたいか？ そうだね まぁまぁ悪くないと思ってるよ

Q.20 If you were reborn, would you want to be yourself again? Yeah I don't think things have been all too bad

[call-me-rucy]

Do you think Professor Layton and Sycamore are color coordinated? I suppose Descole and Layton have a cool vs warm color thing going but I wasn't sure if Sycamore's design related to Layton's design in any obvious way. I think I may be over looking something.

Hey, thanks a lot for this ask, this kind of questions are right up my alley! :D

Before diving in, a disclaimer. I'm not a character designer (although I draw as a hobby) so my info/insight on this matter is merely from the unhinged Layton fan perspective ^^

Second disclaimer: I have already a post that touches about this topic, which can be read here: link. But I believe I will be able to better articulate my thoughts on the topic this time, thanks to the question.

Basically, I believe Layton and Sycamore are indeed color coordinated! And I rise the bet: Sycamore had no right to have the same colours as Layton, but he does.

Here is an image where their palettes are compared. They’re identical!

I think it’s pretty clear they have the same colours, now let’s think, why??

Think of Luke, and Emmy, and Aurora. They all have their distinctive, separate colour patterns. Luke is designed in blue so it can even in tiny pixel distorted form be distingished from Layton at a glance. Emmy follows the same pattern. So why on earth would a character designer so worried about character differentiation give two characters the exact same colours? And more so when one of them is the very main character?! In other words: why isn’t Sycamore color coded green?? (Or white?? Or any other colour??)

And it’s not like it didn’t occur to the character designer. Look at the Decapolice cast, also by Nagano:

The answer I propose is this:

AZRAN LEGACY SPOILERS FOLLOW:

I think this is because the main character of the Professor Layton series is Hershel Layton. And that’s the character that owns the orangey-red and black pallette, the one who screams to us “main character”.

Let me explain: According to the story, the main character of the Layton series was going to be Hershel Bronev. And it is because of this original role of main character that he has the orangey-red and black pallette. And that's so fucking smart.

It would have been so easy to just give design pre-Hershel Layton as the one with the red-black pallete and give the other character another colour. But instead!! The colour goes with the role!! So when Theo takes the role of "Hershel" and "main character", he takes the colours associated with those things, too!!

And this is a bit more watsonian but Hershel gives up the name and the role but not the red-black combo cause they are no other colours for him. So Des keeps his colours (which from a doylistic perspective, he doesn't strictly have to) and Hershel uses Hershel's colours so they both use the same, and also they have the same hair colour and skin colour which totally makes sense. And the Bostonius is the same colour as the Laytonmobile. Because of course it is, they're the same thing!

So here's Desmond Sycamore, a design that copies the professor's main character energy on the basis that he was supposed to be it but is also inspired by Descole's design (see the purple buttons and the shoes) so you see him and he looks like the ultimate rival. (But also Nagano managed to despite using the same colours, make it enough visibly different?? Which is so hard??)

Meanwhile, in a darker timeline where they didn't think the designs as much:

Would still have screamed rival, yes, but it doesn't say "we're made of the same thing" as the true design does.

I think it's impressive, honestly. It's peak storytelling STRICTLY IN COLOUR CHOICES. I wish to be half as good writer/designer as whoever it was that made this call (Nagano or Hino).

And this concludes this session of infodumping. I hope you enjoyed if you stuck enough to read this far.

Thanks again for the question, sweet anon! <3

Please, everyone feel free to send more Layton inquires and/or add your own thoughts to this post. Cheers!

[arceespinkgun]

Hi! May we have your answers to the questions 3, 12, 13, 29, 49 and/or 50 for a character of your choice for the Honest Favorite Character ask game, please and only if you want to?

I really like your idea that I could do three different characters, Elita-1, Jazz, and Arcee (I genuinely could not choose who to talk about and had to ask who to pick)!

3. What first drew you to this character?

I once talked about this with Elita so I'll answer for Arcee and Jazz. With Arcee, the thing that first drew me to her was that she was a badass warrior in TFP and IDW, since those were the first TF things I saw, and I thought her design was really cool (pink and blue are two of my favorite colors to pair together). I liked that she's experienced grief in her life, too. With Cyberverse, though, it was how much fun she was always having that I loved.

Huh, I'm just realizing that with Jazz, it's almost all the same traits? I was about to type that it was his coolness and competence but also how much fun he has? There are patterns here XD

12. If you could write as effortlessly as much as you wanted, what story (s) would you write with this character?

I've managed to write a decent amount with Jazz and Elita at this point, but with Arcee, if I could just produce a story instantaneously, I'd write a long epic story about her bonding with Shadow Striker, or (file this one under things that would appeal solely to me) write a really long self-indulgent epic adventure in which she's the main character and she is created in the timeline in which the Autobots lost the War in "Rhythms of Darkness!" to protect a young Daniel Witwicky/renew the hope of the Autobots. For bonus self-indulgence, I could have Elita-1 be created around the same time and they could team up.

12. If you could draw as effortlessly as much as you wanted, what scene (s) would you draw with this character?

I HAVE SO MANY COMICS AND THINGS WITH THEM IN MY HEAD mostly small gag strips! I'll give you an example I've never got around to:

ARCEE: I just love dark, evil ladies~!

[We see floating hearts with Airachnid, Nightbird, Shadow Striker, and Flamewar in them.]

CHROMIA: You do realize you can't fix them, don't you?

ARCEE: Chromia!!! They should be respected for who they are and don't need to be fixed! That's such an offensive thing to say, especially about someone like Shadow Striker.

ARCEE: ...I could make them all worse :3

CHROMIA: Sometimes, you scare me.

29. Do you affectionately bully this character?

I do sometimes do that to Jazz... proof:

Elita-1 and Arcee not so much, they can both sometimes be A Lot™️ and it can be funny to poke fun at that but I don't go overboard with it. ... ... ...Okay, admittedly I've affectionately bullied TFA Blackarachnia before because of how embarrassing the dynamic is/was between her and Optimus and Sentinel though lol

49. What's your favorite personality trait in this character?

For Elita-1 and Jazz, it's how they both bottle up all their suffering and trauma in order to embody heroic ideals for their cause (hey, didn't say it had to be a healthy trait). For Arcee, my favorite trait of hers is her emotional intelligence that enables her to offer a strong, valuable perspective in many scenarios.

50. Link your fav song, playlist, aesthetic board, fan-fiction, reference pile, personal artwork, analysis post, meme, headcanon, or quote for this character. Whichever one (s) you are most comfortable with!

The songs I associate most heavily with them are:

"Didn't We Almost Win It All" by Laura Branigan (Elita-1)

"The Singer" by The 5th Dimension (Jazz)

"Pink Whitney" by Scene Queen (Arcee... yes this is a major tone shift, I just always think of Cyberverse Arcee blasting people with a giant gun when I hear this song LMAO)

[arotaro]

I love voidpunk but I’m also curious about if there are any guidelines or rules, like what things are allowed and what things aren’t? /genq sorry if you’ve answered this before or answered something similar and I missed it I’m not super pro at finding stuff 😭 also double sorry if it’s an offensive question to ask. I’m genuinely not trying to offend you I’m just trying to learn more and since I’m kind of a baby queer I want to make sure the words I use fit me.

You can check the voidpunk tag on my blog, since I have talked about it before, but I'll go over some quick points:

There is no "requirement" for participating in voidpunk. Anyone who tells you "oh, only such-and-such group can be voidpunk" or anything along those lines is lying. HOWEVER:

The "punk" part of voidpunk is not there for no reason. It is tied to the punk subculture and it's best to have a general understanding of this subculture before participating in voidpunk. Also, voidpunk is specifically a reaction to dehumanization, and it's important to understand that certain people experience this more than others. People of color get dehumanized. Disabled people get dehumanized. People with personality disorders get dehumanized. Trans people get dehumanized. Aspecs get dehumanized. etc. etc. We are here to call attention to and take power away from this, not to be niceys about it. I left the voidpunk subreddit and its associated Discord server because it was full of entitled white cunts who acted like they couldn't possibly be racist because they were autistic or some shit and I was being sooooo mean and disruptive for asking them not to be blatantly racist, and I just want to make it clear that if this had been a real life social group and not an online space, I would have knocked their teeth out. Understand? That said, you don't have to be every oppressed minority ever to participate in voidpunk- you just have to be respectful and willing to listen.

One misconception I see very often is that voidpunk is some sort of personal identity along the lines of otherkin, etc. This is not true. Voidpunk is an aesthetic and philosophy, NOT about genuinely believing yourself to be inhuman. There certainly may be people who identify as both voidpunk and otherkin, or what have you, and that's fine! That's cool! I love those people. But they're not synonymous and should not be treated as such. You don't assume I'm really a vampire because I'm goth, right?

Also, the "void" part of voidpunk doesn't really mean anything. Genuinely, it was chosen because it sounds cool. I think another misconception I see sometimes is that voidpunk specifically is about like, literal voids or shadows or black holes or space or something, which is not true. It's kinda whatever. There are as many flavors of voidpunk as there are blue guys in the X-Men.

Have fun!

[mrhyde-mrseek]

SCIENCE MOST SINISTER: VOLUME II - PART NINE

(CW: Brief mentions of character death!)

(WE ARE SO. FUCKING. BACK!!!!! Maybe read the previous parts if you don’t remember what’s going on though.)

As suspected, interrogating Ezekiel Roman turned out to be a very difficult task indeed.

Locating him at all was a problem in of itself; the docks were extremely chaotic, and nobody seemed particularly inclined to help strangers. The thick fog rolling in also made it impossible for Watson to see more than a foot in front of him, and as a result nearly tripped multiple times.

However, he, Mycroft, and Utterson were eventually pointed to the far end of the docks, where they found a lean man stacking crates alone. Watson cleared his throat. The man whirled around. Sharp grey eyes narrowed, regarding the three of them with wary curiosity. “What do you want?” he asked. His voice was deep, and he spoke barely above a mumble.

“You are Ezekiel Roman, I presume?” Watson said. “I am Dr. Watson. These are my associates, Mr. Holmes and Mr. Utterson. We are here investigating the murder of Mr. Marvel. You used to work for him, is that correct?”

Mr. Roman stared at them unwaveringly. He didn’t say a word.

Mycroft sighed. “I am assuming you would like to discuss such a delicate matter somewhere more private than the docks.”

Mr. Roman nodded.

•••

Back at the Albatross, Jekyll, Victor, and Edmund had managed to convince the front desk clerk to allow them access to the staff quarters. They were pointed down a long hallway on the ground floor, and told that they would find Ms. Lovrić’s room at the end on the left. When asked if the cook was actually in her room at that moment, or if she was elsewhere in the building, the clerk shrugged, scowling. Jekyll took that as an indication that he should stop asking questions.

The dim wall lamps flickered, and the weathered floorboards creaked horribly, sounding twice as loud in the near silence and causing Jekyll to flinch with every step. The sense of lifelessness had unnerved him so much that by the time they reached Ms. Lovrić’s chambers he almost forgot to breathe. Swallowing his anxiety, he lifted his fist and knocked.

Slow, muffled footsteps could be heard in the room beyond. Then the door swung open, revealing a squat old woman. She looked at them with bright blue eyes set deep in the wrinkles of her face, like a basset hound’s. “May I help you?” she asked, glancing between them in mild confusion.

“Are you Ivanya Lovrić?” Jekyll asked. She nodded slowly. “My name is Dr. Jekyll. My companions are Mr. Frankenstein and Mr. Seawright. We are here on behalf of the Port Burdock police department investigating the death of one Thomas Marvel.”

At the mention of the police, Ms. Lovrić’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “I do not think I can be of very much help, but I will tell you what I know,” she said. Opening the door wider, she motioned for them to follow her inside.

As soon as her back was turned, Edmund raised his eyebrows at Jekyll incredulously, gesturing with both arms to the old woman. Jekyll waved his hand; as long as Ms. Lovrić trusted them enough to stand for an interrogation, a small lie wouldn’t hurt her.

They were only there for information.

•••

Finding the home of Millie Cutter was a surprisingly simple task. Within fifteen minutes, the Time Traveller, Poole, and Gwen were gathered in front of a small, one-story house near the harbor, weathered and grayed by numerous storms of decades past. The Time Traveller’s knock was answered quickly by the appearance of a dark-haired woman. She couldn’t have been much older than her late twenties, though her dress was as faded in color as her house. She stopped short when she saw them. “Hello?” she said, though it sounded more like a question than a greeting. “I beg your pardon, but I don’t recall having been employed by any of you. Who are you?”

Gwen was the first to speak before the Time Traveller had even opened his mouth. “I am Dr. Gwen Crowley. This is Mr. Poole and Mr. Lyman. We are very sorry for the intrusion, but we are in Port Burdock investigating the death of your former employer, Thomas Marvel. We were hoping you would allow us to speak to you about what you know?”

“Oh!” Miss Cutter’s eyes widened, and she hastily stepped aside to allow them in the door. “Of course! Please, come in. I will help in any way I can.”

They were led into a cramped sitting room, furnished with a worn sofa and chairs and draped in shades of grey and faded sea green. Miss Cutter’s eyes widened disappeared through another door, emerging a minute later with a tray laid with a teapot and four steaming cups.

Once everything was settled and Miss Cutter had taken a seat on the armchair across from Gwen, the Time Traveller began to speak. “As you know, Mr. Marvel was found murdered on December eleventh. Could you tell us your whereabouts that morning and the night preceding it?”

“I was cleaning the bedroom of a guest who had left that evening, on December tenth,” Miss Cutter replied. “That was at eight o’clock. Around eight-thirty I took a break to eat dinner in the staff dining room, then resumed my cleaning. At nine o’clock I swept the first and second floor hallways—there were only two floors. At about ten o’clock I had finished my work and came home. I fell asleep almost immediately, and did not leave my bedchamber until the next morning, when I went to fetch the paper and learned Mr. Marvel had been killed.”

“Do you know anyone who may have had any grievances against Mr. Marvel?” Poole asked, leaning forward in his seat.

She hesitated. Her fingers twisted nervously in the fabric of her dress. Then she nodded. “I never enjoy accusing anyone of wrongdoings unless I am positive they are the culprit, and especially not for something this severe,” she said, voice hushed, as though she was afraid of eavesdroppers at the door. “But . . . I do have my suspicions.”

•••

“I tried to keep an eye on everyone at The Invisible Man.” Mr. Roman folded his hands in his lap. “Knowing the whereabouts of all guests and staff left no room for confusion.”

He, Watson, Utterson, and Mycroft were seated at a table in the corner of a pub. It being well before the typical hour anyone would be out searching for spirits, the place was empty but for them and the barmaid. The creaking of the wood settling and the wind against the shutters, however, drowned out their voices well enough.

Mr. Roman continued: “I was at the front desk all day. At eight o’clock I ate a light dinner in the dining room reserved for the staff, then returned to my position. At ten o’clock I went to my house, just as I did every night, and did not leave it until the next morning around seven o’clock.”

“Did you notice any of the staff or guests acting out of character that night?” Mycroft asked.

“No,” he answered shortly. Then he scowled, appearing to have just remembered something. “Yes. Barnabas Croft. Although I may be biased. We did not get along very well.”

•••

“I never liked the barmaid who worked there,” Ms. Lovrić said, wrinkling her nose. Jekyll, Victor, and Edmund were gathered in her chambers at The Albatross. Jekyll stood near the door, and Victor beside the bed, while Edmund leaned against the desk with his arms crossed. Ms. Lovrić paced about the room, wringing her hands as she recalled that night. “Barnabas Croft was his name, I believe. He was never outwardly cruel to anyone, you must understand, but he had a sort of . . . demeanor that made it difficult to fully trust anything he told you.”

Jekyll tilted his head. “Did you speak to him often?”

“No. I never left the kitchens except to serve meals to guests if we were short-staffed on that day. I abstain from drink, too, so I don’t believe I was ever near the bar. But other members of the staff did, and they seemed to share my opinions. Mr. Roman—he was the inn’s clerk—especially.”

•••

Watson shared a glance with his companions. “Is there any particular reason why you did not like Mr. Croft?” he asked.

Mr. Roman barked out a bitter laugh. “That man was a complete pain in the arse! He would come up to my desk at odd hours with no purpose but to irritate me. It was nearly impossible to accomplish anything with him going on about God-knows-what; I don’t remember a thing he told me, only that I could barely concentrate on what I had been employed to do.”

•••

“The barmaid, Mr. Croft, had made a habit of stealing,” Miss Cutter said. “It was never anything like money, of course!” she added hurriedly. “Things like glasses from the bar, or room keys that were not being used at that moment, small items that likely nobody would notice had vanished immediately.“

“Did he ever steal from the guests?” Gwen asked.

“Not that I know of.”

•••

“He was a thief, all right,” Ms. Lovrić said. “I caught him once attempting to sneak some of the silver from the kitchens. But I suppose he must have gone too far,” she added, shrugging.

“What do you mean?” Victor asked.

•••

“Most of the staff assumed he finally attempted to steal from Mr. Marvel,” said Mr. Roman. “I am of the suspicion that he was caught in a guest’s room with their luggage. No matter the circumstances, he was gone the following day.”

•••

“Mr. Marvel must have fired him,” Miss Cutter mused, “because after he left home the night of November twenty-ninth, he simply never returned. Mr. Marvel never explained why.”

•••

“We were forced to come up with our own speculations!” Ms. Lovrić exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “I saw neither hide nor hair of him in town, either. It was as though he simply disappeared!”

•••

“A few of the staff were concerned about Mr. Croft.” Mr. Roman’s lip curled in disgust. “Good riddance, I say. I didn’t have to worry myself with replacing any more keys.”

“And nobody knows where he may possibly have gone?” Mycroft asked. Mr. Roman merely responded with a shrug.

The silence stretched on, until Watson realized that Mr. Roman had told them all that he could. He pushed his chair back. The three other men followed suit. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Roman,” he said, getting to his feet. He offered out his hand to shake. Mr. Roman accepted, making only a mumbled noise in response, which Watson took to mean, You’re welcome.

As he, Mycroft, and Utterson walked back out into the street, where they discovered a fog had rolled in while they were in the pub, he turned the information they had learned over in his head. It had pointed to Mr. Croft as a more likely suspect, but unless Kemp and Walton could actually find anyone who knew where he was, it would not be of much use to them.

He hoped that the rest of the House and the Society were having more luck than they were.