#I'm also getting better at drawing hands yay

[azherwind-art]

Part 7 of Ink Soulmate is up on Patreon! Will be here in like two weeks? It's been fun drawing this and there are so many more backgrounds than last time haha

[daftpatience]

YEAH YEAY OKAY! here we go! welcome to i get to infodump about pens again, yay yippee!

what's the difference between ballpoints, rollerballs, and gel pens?

ballpoints, rollerballs, and gel pens all use a ball-socket mechanism that continuously coats itsself in ink as it rolls across a page. what makes them all different from each other is in the ink composition!!

ballpoint pens have an oil based ink paste. the ink is very thick & requires more pressure to write with, and can get kinda skippy as the tip gets dirty or clogged, but is able to stick to many more surfaces like receipts, plastic, really shitty paper, etc. it can be hard to wash out of things that you get it on, since it's more waterproof than other inks.

one of the neat things about this type of ink is that you're able to shade with it by varying pressure. lots of artists make great use of this!

hybrid or low viscosity ballpoint ink is often just ballpoint ink with an added lubricant to make it write smoother and flow better.

rollerball pens use water based inks. fountain pens, felt tip pens*, and dip pens all usually use water based inks. because of this, rollerballs are very free flowing and rarely clog, but paper choice is more important and some folks can find them to be leaky or overly wet. the writing experience is not as glidey as a gel/ballpoint since the ink is not thick, but it doesn't need a heavy hand. rollerballs enjoy more colour options than ballpoints and can have very dark blacks, but aren't waterproof unless the ink is pigment based instead of dye based. *felt tip pens feel very different than any of the other pens on this list cause of the soft point, they put out ink in a very even and somewhat dry way, and can also use alcohol inks, like copic markers. alcohol inks soak very deep into the page and dry very fast, and blend very differently. i'm not as familiar with them!

gel pens use inks that are made of pigment suspended in a water based gel. these inks tend to be very thick and put out a wet line that takes a longer time to dry. gel pens are most likely to clog and skip due to this, since the ball is not as evenly coated in a substance so thick. gel pens do have the widest colour options and can be fully opaque (ie. pastels, whites, etc) but are often very frustrating as they clog up and get old and dried out.

as a bonus, true technical pens are a whole different kind of beast and have very specific standardized nib sizes and colours. cad software has largely replaced the need for extremely precise technical drawing, but artists still like pens like the rapidograph! they're made differently everywhere but generally, instead of a ball, there is a small tube of a precise diameter with a little wire inside it that controls the ink flow. they can't be held at a lot of angles and aren't as versatile as other pens, but they put down incredibly crisp lines.

yippee yay pens!! wahoo!!

[lis-likes-fics]

Pancakes, Bottle Tops, and Jell-O on the Side

Pairings: Spencer Reid x bau!adhd!Reader Word Count: 3.5k words Warnings: Character with ADHD, fluff :) A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble....so... I am going to go ahead and continue the bau!adhd!reader stuff because I think it's a lot of fun! ANyway, thank you and enjoy. Special thanks to my beta reader @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen

“Spence.”

His lazy hum rumbles under you as you lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as you both lay wrapped in the covers. It's late, a glance at the clock says nearly one in the morning.

You cross your arms over his chest, leaning up to look at his face. He looks peaceful, not sleeping but closed-eyed and slow-breathed. “I'm hungry.”

He smiles, but his eyes stay closed. “It's too late to eat.”

You shrug lazily, drawing circles on his chest. “But I want pancakes.”

He opens his eyes. “You know,” Spencer sits up, laying back against the headboard, “late night snacking is bad for digestion.”

You hum. “Is it?”

He nods. “Your metabolism slows while you sleep, so it's harder for your stomach acids to break down the food.” He presses his lips to your forehead. “Eating late at night can lead to weight gain and interrupted sleep.”

“Really?”

His hand rubs your arm. “If you need to eat close to bedtime, it's best to choose small, healthy snacks so you sleep better.”

You sit up, crossing your legs as you look at him. You set a hand on his hand, looking him straight in the eyes as you say it. “But I want pancakes.”

He laughs lightly. “Sweetheart–”

“What if we put chocolate chips in them?”

You know you’ve piqued his attention. He glances at you, his brows raised to his hairline. “Chocolate chips?” he mutters.

You almost feel bad for tricking him, but he’s too cute for that. Your smile grows as your second hand envelopes his own until you’re holding it like you’re keeping it warm. “Yeah,” you nod. “We can even eat it with Jell-O. Not, like, Jell-O on it. But, like, Jell-O on the side.” You clear your throat. “But we can also have Jell-O.”

He gives you an almost pained expression, like you’re gonna pull his arm off. “You know I love Jell-O.”

You smile your best smile. “I know, that’s why I said it.” Then you give your best pout, scooting closer to him with his hand in your hands. “Pancakes and Jell-O? Please?”

There’s a short pause as he lays his head back, sighing as he shakes his head. “You’re impossible to say no to, you know that?”

“Yay!” You erupt in smiles, pumping your fist in the air as you stumble out of the bed (and you quite literally stumble because your foot gets caught in the covers, and you fall to the floor with a thud). Spencer almost feels guilty for laughing as he asks if you’re okay, but you almost seem like you’ve hardly noticed when you get to your feet and rush to the kitchen. He takes his time following after you, but he’s becoming more and more excited about eating chocolate chip pancakes and strawberry Jell-O with you with each step he takes.

You’ve already beaten him to starting a CD, something from Mozart’s collection playing in the background as you try to reach the pancake mix from the top shelf. You’re almost certain he puts things there on purpose, especially when he comes up behind you with a hand on your hip as he easily reaches for the box and sets it next to you on the counter.

You turn to look at him, nearly swooning at the sight of him so close to you, his stupid pretty eyes and his stupid pretty face just waiting to be covered in your kisses. You settle for a peck on his chin, teasing him, before stepping around him to grab the box. He snatches it before you can, and you would pout if you didn’t know that’s what he wanted. Taking your chin between two gentle fingers, he places a very loving kiss on the very tip of your nose before he’s walking away to grab the pan. You settle for everything else, grabbing the milk and the water and the butter and the chips and whatever else is needed for your late-night snack.

As Spencer replaces the butter on the butter dish, he watches you out of the corner of his eye. He watches you pour the milk into a measuring cup half full of water, your other hand busy with tapping the counter three times. When you set the milk back down, you don’t move on until you’ve grabbed the handle with the opposite hand and let the other tap the counter three more times. You rub the condensation into your hands.

“They need to be equal, or it feels weird,” you’d said. He thinks you’re really cool.

When he’s flipping the pancakes, you’re gliding on your feet through the kitchen like you’re a ballerina. It’s as simple as you trying to stand on the very tips of your toes, and then him grabbing your waist to help you. He laughs every time you step on his feet, which makes you feel better about stepping on his feet so much.

And then when the pancakes are done, you’re waltzing with him between bites. He’s weirdly good at it, given the fact that he’s not a good dancer (neither of you are that great on your feet, but it doesn’t matter when it’s just slow dancing in the kitchen). You laugh every time he steps on your feet, which makes him feel better about stepping on your feet so much.

“Should we like…” you trail off, leaning over your plate next to Spencer’s, “...do some jumping jacks after?” You take a bite, speaking as you chew on it. “It’ll burn some of the calories, and then it won’t be so bad.”

Spencer’s smile is one of those ones that makes you feel that stereotypical “warm and tingly” feeling that settles in your stomach somewhere. It’s fond and sweet, and his eyes glitter with it. He chuckles lightly. “Maybe.” To the jumping jacks. He doesn’t much like jumping jacks.

“And then we’ll also be tired, and we can just go to sleep.”

He hums. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t need jumping jacks to make me sleepy.”

You sift through the last couple of bites left of your pancakes, turning your nose up. He can already tell that you’ve suddenly grown sick of it. There’s no way you’re eating the last two pieces. You set your fork down, gesturing to your head. “My mind is fast right now, so I may need a few.” You glance away, “On the other hand, that might make it worse…” Then you look at him. “I’m keeping you up late, I’m sorry.”

It’s almost two in the morning, and you both still have work in a few hours.

But he just smiles, loving as usual. “Sweetheart, we’re usually up late anyway on cases. You don’t have to apologize.”

You reach over, nudging his fingers with yours on the counter. “I feel like I do.” You tap your untouched fingers with his untouched fingers. They need to be even, otherwise it feels weird.

Spencer reaches over and locks your fingers together. “I promise you, I would’ve been awake anyway.” Meaning he was not going to sleep until he knew you were asleep to make sure you actually got some sleep.

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” You raise a hand to his cheek, your fingertips brushing over them and adoring the way they turn the slightest pink. “You need rest.”

“So do you,” he mumbles. “We’re staying awake together.”

There are nights where he pretends to be asleep to get you to rest. Tonight was one of those nights but when you say his name so sweetly, he has no choice but to reply.

And also, you’re a profiler. You know when he is or isn’t sleeping, you just pretend you don’t.

“Do you wanna do jumping jacks?” he suggests, gathering your plates while you’re distracted with the strands of hair misbehaving on his forehead, out of place from the rest.

“Maybe a few,” you hum.

He straightens his posture, stuffing his last bite in his mouth. “I’m going to make you some chamomile.” He already has the kettle in his hands, filling it with water to set to boil. “We can do some jumping jacks while we wait for the water to boil.”

You smile sweetly. He takes such good care of you, especially when he reaches his hand out and cups your chin so gently. “Thank you, honey,” you say as you slowly slip the plates into your hands. “I’ll get the dishes.”

He reaches for them, but you pull them closer to you, like a dragon hoarding its treasures—which is a strange simile, considering you’re talking about dirty dishes covered in his DNA. “I can do them,” he tries.

“I know you can,” you have to dance around him to get past him and to the sink. He turns the heat all the way up and leaves it, holding his hands out for the plates. You slap his hand away lightly, a teasing little swipe as you shake your head. “But I want to.”

He tilts his head, his confusion contaminated by his amused grin. “You hate doing the dishes.”

More than anything. “Yeah,” you agree, “but you’re being so nice.” You set the dishes by the sink and turn to look up at him. He’s freakishly tall, so you have to crane your neck up to see him because he stands so close. He has no sense of personal space with you, but you don’t mind it because you love him and you also don’t give him any personal space in return. “So either I fight you or you let me do the dishes.”

He sighs. “Okay, you wash and I’ll dry and put away.”

You stick your hand out to make it official. “Deal.”

“Great.” He takes your hand, surprising you when he twirls you in a clumsy circle and pulls you into his chest as you both giggle. It’s sappy and gross, like those scenes in rom-coms where they’re doing this exact thing: dancing around the kitchen late at night while they giggle like school kids because they’re so in love. You’ve always wanted this for yourself, and you’re beyond happy that you’ve found it with your Spencer.

“Thank you,” you say as you duck under his arm, taking your place at the sink as you start the water. Neither of you talk much as you scrub all the dirty dishes clean, your face scrunched in your focus, un-scrunching only when the water rinses away the suds you’ve built up on your dish. He takes it with eager hands, wiping the dish clean and retreating to put it away.

“You know,” you mutter, frowning at the way the pancake batter mixes with the water and sinks down the drain, “the jumping jacks before bed will be really good because, when we sleep after, our muscles will recover and get really strong.”

He nods, wiping at your elbow when it brushes the edge of the sink and you squirm away from the cold metal. It’s thoughtful, though it’s such a subconscious movement. “That’s correct.”

You shrug a shoulder, teasing easily. “I’m often correct.”

He laughs. It’s a big one that ruins your stoic expression. “That is also correct.” He’s proving your point, and he doesn’t mind doing it.

When the dishes are clean and put away, the kettle is whistling in perfect time as he removes it from the heat. You’re already scurrying to the cabinet to pick which mug you want to use (he already knows you’re going to pick the blue round Christmas Snoopy mug that curves in at the lip). It’s one of your favorites, like a mug-bowl hybrid that you love to cradle in your hands, especially when it’s warm.

He takes special care in making your tea while you sit on the counter next to him and watch. Your feet dangle over the edge, and you find yourself watching his face more than what he’s actually doing. He’s got eyebags. You can tell how tired he is, though he insists that he’s just always had them.

It’s partially true, anyway. When you first met him, he had those same dark circles around his eyes that gave a warning to how irregular these hours would be.

Other than his eyebags, he’s got a loving look on his face. It’s not forlorn and lost in sweet little smiles, but it’s thoughtful and content and at peace. He’s happy to stand there and make your tea, stirring the contents together with the little spoon because he knows you hate using the big ones. He’s happy to fish a single ice cube from the freezer to plop into your scalding tea so that you can actually drink it and not burn your tongue. He’s happy to hand over your mug and watch you take a tiny sip, closing your eyes and humming and giving him your softest thank you as you practically melt. He preens under your praise.

After a couple more sips, you’re pushing yourself off the counter and onto the floor, doing ridiculous stretches as you beam at him. “Okay, ready?”

Spencer lets out a huge sigh, bending down to set his hands on his knees. “Give me a second to catch up,” he says, already out of breath.

You furrow your brow and laugh. “We haven’t even started.”

“I mean mentally.”

“Spence!”

“Okay,” he straightens his posture, moving you both to a more open space as he stops in front of you. “I’m ready.”

You smile wide, “We’re going to fifty.”

“Fifty?!” he exclaims, but you’ve already started. He has to do the first five jumping jacks really fast just to catch up to you. But he’s in love with you, so he’s dedicated to these curséd things.

It’s somewhere before twenty when he speaks, already out of breath and lagging behind as his hands struggle to come as far up. You know he’s partially exaggerating, but you’re also getting tired already. “You know…” he gasps like he desperately needs water, “I hate…” another gasp, “doing these.”

You roll your eyes, tired but not as dramatic as him (currently). “I watched you chase an unsub down three blocks before and then proceed to tackle him, and you can’t do a few jumping jacks?” You don’t know where you are in the count. You forgot as soon as you started speaking, but you think you’re somewhere near thirty.

“Okay, that’s different…” He stops huffing and puffing, but he is genuinely getting tired as he breathes between words. “I was running on adrenaline…” a breath, “and I couldn’t stand straight for…” another breath, “for ten minutes after.”

It’s true. You had to hold his hand because he kept complaining that he was going to pass out, when really he was just trying to make you feel better because you had been so worried he would get hurt in pursuit. You’d been all over him worried sick, loving hands to his face and soft kisses to his forehead.

“I was so proud of you though.” You would shrug if you weren’t already busy. “Derek was impressed. Also, I don’t know where we are.”

He could have lied and said you were on 49, but he decides against it purely because you genuinely look like you’re enjoying yourself. Plus, you’re smiling. How is he possibly supposed to think straight if you’re smiling?

“38.”

You grumble but you stick it out together. And when the last counts come out (“47, 48, 49, 50!”), you are the one to huff and puff and say, “Oh, thank god.”

Spencer leans forward on the counter, gripping the edge of it as he bends all the way down to catch his breath. You skip that altogether, climbing on top of it and laying on it like a couch. You drape an arm over your face, completely limp and entirely unwilling to stand. “I hate jumping jacks,” you complain on a heavy breath.

He nods lazily. “I’m glad we agree.”

You both stay there for a while, two pathetic FBI agents who are far more capable of even more physical exertion than this has offered. Derek would tsk if he was here.

Spencer recovers first, but only because you allow him to (you don’t want to move yet, and if you act long enough then he might actually carry you to bed). He runs a hand through his hair, “I’ll put your shark in the microwave.”

This makes you forget that you’re pretending to be completely incapacitated. The shark in question is a small heatable stuffed animal named Nadia that smells like lavender. During your month-long hyperfixation on sharks, Spencer bought it for you as a gift because he thought you’d like it. He was right, as Nadia sleeps in bed with the two of you now on most nights.

You sit up, raising a slow hand in his direction as you fawn over him. “Thank you, honey.” He lets you take his hand, pulling him in to kiss him gently.

You and Spencer have been together for a while, and you’ve been saying “I love you”s for a good amount of time, but Spencer has yet to (and will likely never) master the art of casualty when it comes to telling you he loves you. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to give you a brief call over his shoulder, or a passing kiss on the forehead as he mumbles it into the side of your head.

He says it in an in-your-face kind of way that you adore. He stands so close, kissing your forehead and your lips, and really any part of your face that suits him as he grins. “I love you.” He takes care in whispering it against your lips, your mouths touching with each consonant.

You hum. “Love you, too.” His hands rub your palms, and he kisses your lips again before reluctantly pulling away to go retrieve your shark. You smile as you watch him leave, grabbing your mug and cradling it in your hands as you take small sips. You do feel tired, so at least everything is working.

Spencer is holding Nadia in his hands like a baby before he sets it in the microwave, the both of you standing side to side, bodies touching, as you watch it spin around and around and around in very slow circles. You rest your head on his shoulder while you watch. He’s afraid to move and scare you away (like he could ever scare you away).

Before the microwave can beep, you open the door. He grabs the shark from where it sat, handing it to you like sacred text. “Good?” he asks, waiting as you take the weighted stuffed animal in your hands and feel its warmth. It’s very nice.

“Perfect.”

That makes him happy.

With an arm around your shoulder, he takes you both to bed, turning off the lights as he goes. Taking one last generous sip from your tea, you snuggle in the bed next to him, and as grabby as you are, he's the one holding you like he's going to make sure you never leave.

You hold your warmed plush to your chest, letting out a long breath as you rest against Spencer. “What do you wanna hear?” he asks, already flipping through his mind palace to unlock all the stuff he knows just to lull you to sleep.

You've always insisted hearing the sound of his voice helps you sleep (in a good way, not in the “listening to you speak is a snooze fest” kind of way). He knows there's a study on it, it's scientific, but there's always going to be the tiniest part of him that doesn't believe you (though he'll entertain the idea because he loves you).

“Um…” you wonder, your mind suddenly going blank as you try to find something for him to talk about. “Give me the history of…” you shake your head, “bottle tops.”

He furrows his brow, though his grin betrays him (as per usual). “Bottle tops?”

“Yeah?”

“Why bottle tops?”

You shrug, closing your eyes and letting your finger rub into his shirt. “I don't know.”

He shakes his head like he's sick of you, though he could never be sick of you. He's surely sick with you with how dizzy you make him every time he sees you. “Okay then…” he mumbles, wondering where to start. He keeps his voice soft, but he can't seem to keep it slow.

“The crown bottle cap was invented in 1892 by William Painter–”

“Why do you know about this?”

It was partially a challenge, choosing bottle tops. Sometimes you name random things just to see if he actually knows these things, and he surprises you every time with information he's a total nerd for knowing.

He tilts his head, glancing at you. “Why do you know so much about sharks?”

You hum, laying back down. “Touché.”

He smiles. You feel his thumb stroke your shoulder, a slow and steady thing that easily makes you putty in his arms. “As I was saying,” he says, all sass but also too much of a dork to work, “the name ‘crown’ was chosen because the cap resembled the crown of the British queen…”

It doesn't take long to drift off as he speaks, his loving hands and loving voice and loving lips the perfect remedy for your overactive mind. You could listen to him talk all day.

Criminal Minds taglist: @queermaxwooo @mdanon027 @lilianhallee @hpstuff244444 @thegr8estpuff @niktwazny303 @bubbles2300 @hiireadstuff @chloelmao67 @feyresqueen @hbwrelic Tag yourself here...

[russellsppttemplates]

Matilda being so in love with Logan when she’s really young that Lando has to be stern with him and everyone laughing cause he is never usually serious

"Daddy! Since you and Logan are not driving, can we go see him, please?", Matilda wondered. She heard this morning that Williams were also having their reserve driver doing the Free Practice session, and since she knew her daddy wasn't driving either, it would be the perfect time considering she knew better than to wander around the paddock on her own.

"Am I really giving in to our daughter's driver crush because I can't say no to her? Yes, that's right", Lando whispered in your ear before picking her up, "yes, princess, let's go!", he smiled, kissing her cheek and leaving you with Fraser and a sleeping Charlotte.

Walking into the Williams garage with his little girl, Logan spotted the little Nottis straight away, "hey, Tilly! How are you? It's been a while since I've seen you", the american driver smiled.

"I'm good, and you, Logan? I made a drawing for you", she fished it out of the front pocket of her dungarees, unfolding it to reveal a drawing of a blue car and who Logan assumed was himself.

"Thanks, Tilly! I'm going to find somewhere safe to keep this!", he smiled, letting her explain all the details she had drawn.

"I'll go look for a folder or something to keep it safe", one of the Williams staff said, "I'll go with you!", Matilda said, "I'll be right back, Logan!", she noted as she left Lando and Logan.

"You can't ever break her heart, you hear me?", Lando stated much to the amusement of everyone around him who heard the serious tone, "which at this age translates in not waving at her and crashing your car or not getting a good position - she understands enough of how the grid works enough to get sad whenever you don't get a good position, so that's a no".

Logan felt somewhat intimidated from his tone alone, "you do realize some of those things are a bit outside of my control, right? I can't make the car a rocketship if it wasn't built that way", he reasoned.

Lando knew what it was to have a car you wished would be faster, "don't break her heart, understood?".

"Yes, sir", Logan said before Matilda pulled on his hand once she got back, "Lucy got a folder so you can save the drawing, yay!", she cheered.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[quimichi]

Hi, I was hoping I could get a genshin and HSR match up if they're still open? I use she/her pronouns, and I have a romantic preference for men. I'm a big time introvert and not one for small talk but I always try to be polite and kind. I've been described as being too sensible by multiple people but I will also laugh at some of the dumbest stuff. My hobbies include writing, drawing and cooking, generally I like anything creative. I hope this is okay and that you have a lovely day!

A/n: I really hope you like my answer! I just thought that someone who can understand and appreciate you would fit so much more better than the opposite ♡

FREMINET

@ awww look at those two introverts in love ♡

@ understands you all to well. You want your peace and quite? He'll leave you to yourself and lets you draw, take a nap, read or whatever.

@ greatly appreciates if you'd do the same, but only really rarely. He does enjoy your company a lot! You bring him internal peace. Just having you sit beside him while he works on a new project really gives him motivation.

@ psst, he wants to show off, just a little ;)

@ takes you diving with him! I hope you're not scared of the ocean tho- if you are, he'll guide you through it. He never lets go of your hand, even if it means that he will have a constant blush on his face and butterflys in his tummy. If you really are way, WAY to scared tho, he would obviously never force you. You two just walk by the shore collecting some seashells!

@ and if you love/like the ocean, he would shyly ask you if you wanna join him. Like everytime he would ask you. Or at least if you wanna wait for him by the shore.

@ LOVES LOVES LOVES to see your drawings, if you wanna show them that is. He can also draw yk, so someone who shares the same talent would also mean for him to share his supplies. Dw, take them without asking, it's a relationship after all.

@ and if you want you can make designs for his toy projects for the kids!

@ Is just as sensitive as you, maybe more, maybe less. But what is definitely a fact, is that he will comfort you nonetheless. Depends on how you wanna be comforted tho. Bit i think his style would be, have a cup of tea and let it aaaall out. Vent on him, he can listen well.

@ the twins think you two were meant to be-! Really supportive of you two.@ And Father is just as happy, she can't show it, but you're part of the family now sooo...you better not hurt her boy :)

DAN HENG

@ well--if you love writing, you're prefect with dan heng cause he loves reading-

@ would understand if you don't want him to read your written pieces, but would feel very honored if you would show him. Even just a glimpse would get him to praise you.

@ if you do show him--damn he would unintentionally correct your grammar or phrasing. Not that he shits on your grammar, its just-idk how to describe it he means it really nice but in dan heng style it comes off more as cold

@ and the corrections of your phrasings are just ideas on how to change things or make it more interesting. He probably read more books than the whole astral express crew together, like easily.

@ thats why he would get it if you don't wanna show him---he's aware lol

@ BUT! what he would do 100% and nobody can stop him, is reading to you ♡

@ lay in his arms and relax. Let his soothing voice lull you to sleep~ And if you wanna read on your own, do that, he'll wait for you to turn the page.

@ would also 100% discuss what you two read afterwards lol. Like a lil bookclub

@ he can actually cook, very well too. But he always says his skills are nowhere near yours, even if you deny it, he stands his point.

@ gracefully DEVOURS your food and asks for a second plate ♡

@ oh look, someone who also hates small take, yay. You two were so awkward at the beginning of the whole relationship. The beginning of the whole meeting each other for the first time too!

@ it was definitely him who took all the first steps. Even more awkward cause....he only knows the most things form books cause he has no real life experience-

@ made the mistake of asking March-the things he went through just for you-you better be greatful (jkjk)

[fuzart]

Currently with reaper :D

(first time drawing him lol)

After debating myself wether I should show my hand or not :]

Also,I'm getting better,yay! And influenza no more (I'm strong ofc ;>)

Just getting physiological therapy,and I still have breathing problems: it's not confirm yet but there's a possibility I might have mycoplasma pneumoniae. But hey, there's a chance that the influenza gone so that's good news :3

[deandoesthingstome]

Hall Pass - Epilogue

You Better Lock Your Phone

Paring: Henry Cavill x Reader (RPF)

Series Summary: You run into Henry Cavill at the start of a two-week house-sitting vacation. You had some previous plans. Some were ruined by your now ex-boyfriend. Some were made better. Guess by whom?

Series Warning and A/Ns: Check out the Masterlist

Playlist: I will add to Spotify with each chapter. The last two songs are for this epilogue, especially Billie Bossa Nova - Billie Eilish

Word Count: 2.3K - This is well and truly it. Hope you love it!

Bonus: I'm headed back to the scene of the crime this weekend! Yay, me!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Over the next ten days, you and Henry took every opportunity to enjoy each other, over and over again.

Sometimes it was lazy and slow and sensual in the early mornings. After, he would slide on a pair of pajama bottoms, which he actually did own, and pad out to the kitchen to make coffee. When you finally emerged from the room, freshly showered and clothed in a comparably comfortable pair of loose sleep bottoms and a thin, comfy cardigan, you’d approach him and slide a hand over his shoulder from behind and down his unclothed chest while you bent to kiss his mouth as hard as you had the night before. Then you’d take your coffee and sit across the table from him, looking out the picture window to the wintry field behind the home, book in hand. As you read, the deep vee front of your cardigan would loosen and the fabric would fall off your otherwise bare shoulder.

Henry would take notice and comment and tell you how pretty you looked bathed in the morning sun. He’d ask to take your picture and you’d oblige, offering him a shy smile, a goofy smile, a wide smile, a genuine smile filled with a hint of sadness.

He’d pause, staring at the photos on his phone, then swallow hard and put it away. He’d scoot the leather wingback chair away from the craft table and reach for you, drawing you close to him with one wrist clasped in his large but gentle hand. 

With the other hand he’d guide you into his lap, sometimes sideways so he could curl you into him and breathe in your scent while he held you so tight and rocked the notion away. Sometimes, facing him and straddling his wide thighs so he could drag your hips in close, roll up into you, get you off kilter so you’d pitch forward enough for him to catch your lips with his, always with the right amount of cushion so you didn’t bump teeth or noses against one another before he held you rapt with his lips.

But the best was when he’d drag you to him and set you on his lap facing away from him. He’d snake his hand around your waist and up into your sweater, hand cupping your breast and pulling you tight to his chest. He’d get you so hot, get you grinding against him, get you needy for him.

It was easy for him to lift you to your feet so he could drag your pj’s down and coax you out of them before he set you back on his lap, though not before he also shuffled his own pants down. He’d pull out the condom he’d tucked in the pocket on the off chance you’d be up for another round so soon after the morning session. But you were, always, and when he slipped you around him your moan was for anything but pain.

It was for the incredibly satisfying feeling of fullness, or the way he moved in and out of you, or the way he held you close with a grip that said he never wanted to let go.

When you weren’t fucking, you might be out riding. Caleb had watched Henry saddle Telly. When his technique was approved, Henry received permission for the two of you to take the horses out whenever you wanted since you could now saddle them without Caleb.

You took Henry on the rest of the paths around the property, always heading off in a different direction each time and always winding up at the hot spring every time. Sometimes with a thermos of hot chocolate, sometimes with another bottle of champagne, sometimes with something a little stronger, but usually always with the willpower to stop before you went too far. 

No matter which way you came, you always trotted back on the shortest route possible, Kal bouncing along beside you. Once the horses were back in their natural state, you would head inside to shower and make love again.

You absolutely made yourself stay away from Henry every now and again, though, determined to give him time to actually concentrate on what he came here for in the first place. The model was coming along nicely as you found time to sneak in a quick yoga practice or meditation, perhaps a nap snuggled up with Kal, who never had a problem leaving his father’s side in favor of your company.

Sometimes you’d step back into the great room and be struck by his presence, the goofy or concentrated look on his face, and you’d call his name and silently ask for permission to snap a photo or two as well.

You made sure to get decent photos of him around the property, too. Tending to the horses, attacked by goats, out walking in the fresh snow, perched on his incredibly photogenic ass at the top of the front porch steps, legs spread wide and elbows resting on his knees as he begged you with his eyes to come to him, before he voiced his need.

“Just put the phone down already and come here.”

You turned off the screen and slipped the phone into your back pocket and went to him because why would you ever say no to Henry?

He’d stand up and hold your hand while you climbed the stairs together and went back into the house, sometimes to fuck like rabbits and sometimes to just hold each other tight.

On your second Wednesday at the farm, your actual birthday, you called the local lodge restaurant and asked what the occupancy was like. The hostess laughed in your ear.

“It’s Wednesday in the middle of winter. There is literally no one here. You can have your pick of the tables.”

When you hung up the phone, Henry was waiting with your coat.

“Please, I hope you know that simply because you secured the reservation, that doesn’t mean that I’m not going to take charge of the rest of the evening, including helping you on with your coat and walking you out to my rental because I’m not letting you drive us on this date.”

“Henry, calm down. Of course you can drive. I only offered because I know the roads around here, but I'm happy to give you oral … directions! Get your mind out of the gutter!” you laughed as he raised his eyebrow at you again, with the largest shit-eating grin you’d seen yet. “I’m happy to give you verbal directions to the restaurant.”

You didn’t miss the way he muttered under his breath he’d take the oral, too.

He’d been the perfect gentleman all evening, opening your door for you and helping you out of the SUV. He asked what you were having and if it would be okay if he ordered for you. 

“This time, sure.” You smiled at him, hoping he didn’t pick up on that Freudian slip. As if there would ever be a next time.

You spent the next few hours eating and chatting and laughing till you cried. After dessert, Henry allowed the staff to take a few photos with a promise they’d wait until Saturday to post them on social media.

It dawned on you in the car on the way home, why Saturday.

“Don’t think about it,” Henry called to you from all the way across the car. “Come back to me, come back to us here and now.”

You turned your face away from the window and looked at him as you wiped the tears and gave him the smile he wanted from you. You wanted it, too. Wanted to keep this night special. Keep the focus on only what you’d done with him today already and what you were going to do with him tonight. Ignore the fact that it will all be over soon.

“There’s my girl,” he smiled at you. “Now, am I turning left or right up ahead? I’m completely turned around here”

You laughed and wondered at how he managed yet again to finagle you out of whatever funk threatened to derail your nothing but pure enjoyment of the two weeks together.

There was never a time when your clumsiness as you tried to undress one another and still keep your mouths mashed together didn’t end up with one or both of you laughing your asses off on the ground. That’s why when Henry wanted to fuck you in all sincerity, with no jokes or silliness to detract from the way you felt about each other, he’d simply force you to stand still while he undressed you and kissed every inch of your body.

He’d lay with you on the bed and hold you close as he kissed your mouth deep. He’d roll you to your back and hover over you, dragging a palm down your body and slipping a long finger or two deep inside your folds. He’d get you rocking into the palm of his hand and begging, begging for more.

It was after he’d let you up so you could suck on his cock for a bit, and after he’d dragged you to the edge of the bed with your legs hanging over and your ass just in the air so he could eat your pussy for a bit before he flipped you over and entered you from behind and made you come screaming his name, that he’d asked you if he could take another picture.

“Now?” you asked.

“Right now. With you looking like that, all fucked out and drunk on my cock. You can pull the sheet up if you want, here…” he leaned forward to drape the cloth over your hip and your breast, letting you tuck it in a way that he could see your leg and arm, but nothing truly untoward. “Like that. Just unbelievably gorgeous. Okay?”

You agreed and let him snap a few shots. He even suggested a few poses and when he showed you the finished results you couldn’t believe your eyes.

“That is not me! Who is that? Whose photo did you just pull up?”

“Oh, don’t be silly. Look at you. You’re gorgeous. Your smile reaches all the way to your eyes. It tells me you’ve never been happier. I love that for you.”

“So you really are a photographer, huh?”

Henry laughed wholeheartedly again. “Right, yes. Seriously, though. I’ve been in front of the camera for years. You don’t think I’ve picked up on a few tricks of the trade?”

“Thank you, Henry. Thank you for showing these to me.”

“I’ll send them, don’t worry. And this is just me showing you yourself.”

When your friends showed up on Friday, you introduced them to Henry and they convinced him to stay one more night. Friday night was so much fun, that Henry stayed Saturday night, too. As he was getting packed and ready to leave Sunday, he reached for you as you were packing also.

“Come with me.”

“What?” you asked, certain you didn’t hear what you thought you did as you allowed yourself to be pulled into his arms.

“Put these bags in my car and come with me. For a few more days. Somewhere else, somewhere private again.”

“What for?”

“So we can actually talk. I shouldn’t have kept us from talking about it the whole time. I only wanted to make sure we enjoyed it as much as we could. But that was silly, because I missed the opportunity to tell you sooner that I think I might be falling for you and I want the same to be true for you. Are you falling for me?”

“Yes,” you whispered, wanting to pinch yourself. “Yes of course I’m falling for you. I’m sorry, I also should have said something. I was so scared, this is, like, really soon.”

“We can still take this slow, but those restaurant photos are already online, and I'd be surprised if people haven't already come looking. And not that those kids know to point to you here right away, but there is bound to be increased interest in the area for a bit and I think it just best if we stay away while we figure out what we want to tell them when they finally do come knocking.”

“You’re seriously asking me to start a relationship with you?”

“Well, continue one, yes. Please.” The look on his face was nothing but serious.

“But my life…”

“Here, yes, I know. That’s exactly what we need to talk about. I’ll do whatever you want, but you have to know if you decide to stay here so that we are forced to be long distance at the very beginning of our relationship, it may make things difficult for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Reporters, paparazzi, crazed fans, whatever you can think of. I could hire someone to help keep folks away. You'd be welcome to go wherever you want, though you’ll probably find you won’t want to.”

“My job? I mean, it’s pretty much remote anyway. I’m sure I could do it from anywhere, but my apartment, my belongings…”

“All things I want to spend time sorting out with you as well as just spending more time together. Kal will also probably never forgive me if I let you just go, which is why I’m suggesting you come with me so we can figure out how and when we want to make this public. I want to keep the craziness away from you until you feel you’re ready.” He paused for a bit of dramatic effect. “As well as have you in my bed.”

“Henry, you are incorrigible!” you laughed and tumbled into his arms.

“Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes,” Henry begged, with a hint of a laugh that gave you pause.

“Oh my god, Henry!” you shouted. “Did I say that out loud?” 

“I really kept up a good facade on that one, didn’t I?” he laughed and you knew this was your man forever now.

Tags:

@littlegreenplasticsoldier- you opened this floodgate. Sorry.

Anything: @mayloma @fvckinghenrycavill @geralts-yenn @sillyrabbit81 @kittenofdoomage @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @aireraume @kebabgirl67 @marantha @sweetdreamsofgelato @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @dedicated-to-mr-cavill @alexakeyloveloki @feelmyroarrrr @raccoon-eyed-rebel @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @kingliam2019 @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka

Hall Pass: (askers and likers, though if you liked the teaser post and you aren’t here, Tumblr won’t let me tag you)  @crymeariversworld @tess-lecter-blog @codykosuckmytoe @casadutti @fefa-la-printcessa @kaylamontaniz @kemillyfreitas​ @urmom3sposts​ @alicasalime​ @florxdexcerezo​ @lothbrokcore​ @straightforwardly @fuzzyugly-blog @livesinfantasyland @thereisa8ella @coldmooninthedark @12dilucswife @ms-angiealsina @7eamfan7asy @band-of-brothers-memes @ms-betsy-fangirl @cavillsslut @henryownsme @hawklin @yoongskook

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Yay then!!!

Hmmmm…

So, for hurt-comfort, I had another idea, but I realized it's too big and would prob work as a one-shot better, so this is the scenario idea:

James finding his gf (the reader) crying after someone was bullying her for being muggleborn, (if u wanna make it more extreme maybe they also cast a spell that ruined all her hw, or drenched her in water, or something like that) and by the end she's just kinda asleep in his arms and he promises (to himself) to protect her

Also, I swear, for some reason the bad liar update never showed up on my page, so I'll be reading that tmr

always yes to protective Jamie 🥺🥰 Warnings: reader gets bullied for being a muggle-born Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter 😊 gifs aren’t mine 😁

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Bullied

"Hey, sweetheart, I was starting to think you forgot about me" you heard your boyfriend's voice coming from the bathroom, as soon as you stepped into his dorm. He walked out and his smile instantly dropped when he saw you. "Princess, what happened?"

You were an absolute mess. You looked completely drenched, covered in mud, your knees and hands were wounded, and your bag looked like it had been burned.

"I w-was coming b-back from the library" you said, between sobs as James walked closer to you and took your bag off your shoulder. "A-and they- they started yelling at m-me" you cried as James walked you over to his bed and sat you down.

"Who?" he asked, feeling his blood boiling.

"S-some kids from Slytherin" you said, trying to calm your breathing. "I'm not sure what their n-names are. They just started yelling 'm-mudblood'" you cried on James' shoulder. "A-and then they threw water a-at me with their wands a-and mud" you said, looking up at him before you grabbed your bag. "A-and they ruined m-my bag. I had all of my assignments here" you said, opening it but nothing more than ashes came out. "I worked on m-my Charms essay for t-two weeks" you said, crying harder and James pulled you closer to him.

James took a deep breath to try and calm himself down so he wouldn't run out to find the shitheads who did this to you because he knew you needed him here.

"Come on, love" he said, getting up and bringing you with him.

"But my things-"

"I'll take care of that, princess. I'm gonna draw you a bath, and we're gonna use Padfoot's fancy salts and soaps, just don't tell him, okay?" he said, kissing your forehead.

You smiled a little as James prepared the warm bath for you and as soon as you got in, you instantly felt at least ten times better.

"Where are you going?" you pouted when he walked towards the exit.

"I'm gonna get you some clean clothes, love" he said, giving you a peck on the lips before he walked out of the bathroom.

After you were clean and changed into James' pajama pants and your favorite sweater of his, you walked out to the dorm and saw James trying to salvage what was left of your bag.

"It's ruined, isn't it?" you asked, feeling a few tears in your eyes again, sitting down next to him.

"It's okay, princess. We're going to Hogsmeade this weekend and I will buy you any bag you like, okay?" he said, kissing your temple.

"Love, you don't have to do that" you insisted.

"I want to. I love spoiling you" he smiled, kissing your cheek.

"Still, I don't think I'll be able to go to Hogsmeade this week" you said, as James brushed his thumb against your cheek to wipe away your tears. "I have to redo my Charms essay" you explained. You noticed James tense a little before he took a deep breath. "What?"

"Alright, if I tell you something, do you promise not to get mad?"

"What did you do?" you asked, wiping your remaining tears with the sleeve of your sweater.

"W-well, sometimes when we're too busy with Quidditch or... well, pranks, Padfoot and I grab your homework and Moony's and... we kind of make copies of it" he said, going over to his nightstand and taking a few parchments out, handing them to you. You saw your Charms essay, the one that you had worked on for two weeks and had just finished at the library. It was just missing the last part, but everything else was there.

"How often do you do this?" you asked, going through the papers.

"We don't use them, we just, you know, make our own version of them. Only when we have Quidditch practice" he insisted but you looked up at him with an arched eyebrow. "Or when we forget there's homework" he admitted. "I'm sorry, love. I should have told you but-"

You cut James off by throwing your arms around his shoulders and kissing him on the lips. "I love you so much" you smiled.

"Y-you're not mad?"

"I'm not entirely happy about it and I doubt Remus will be either" you told him. "But you just saved me from having to re-write this entire essay" you smiled, bringing him closer for another kiss. "Thank you" you smiled.

"You're welcome, princess" he said, kissing you again. "Do you want to go down for dinner? You can point those kids to me so me and Padfoot can-"

"No" you said, hugging him. "Can we just stay here a little longer?" you asked, looking up at him, knowing he wouldn't be able to say no to you.

"Of course, princess" he said, lying down on his bed and bringing you with him. "Whatever you want" he said, kissing your temple as you rested your head on his chest. "I love you" he said, stroking your back, noticing you were almost asleep.

"I love you too" you said, closing your eyes and falling asleep in his arms while he mentally thought about letting Sirius in on this and plotting his revenge against the Slytherins.

The End

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A/N: hope you liked it, loves :)

[mykingdomforapen]

Fanfic asks! 3, 12, 25, 34, 36, 49, 57 (I realized I wanted to ask ALL of the questions, so feel free to answer only a couple of these if this is too much lol)

HEHE YAY THANK YOU FRIEND <3

3. Do you share your fic ideas, or do you keep them to yourself?

I am very much in the camp of "if I tell anyone about this story it'll think that it was already told and then die." So I have better luck not telling people about the fic ideas in detail until it is written out. I like for those to read it to have an authentic experience of seeing it for the first time without already knowing what's going to happen next, although I will sometimes drop hints :)

12. Do you outline your fics?  If yes, how detailed are your outlines?  How far do you stray from them?

I do prefer to outline my fics, but they're quite barebones to the point where I don't think someone on the outside, if they looked at it, would really know what I meant by them, but I do. I use singular or code words, and I sometimes stray! I had the habit of deleting outlines as I went, but since writing for Link Click have tried to keep them around just to look back and reminisce. Because once I write the outline, if I stray from it, I tend not to write that into the outline and just know it in my head, or I'll re-outline at the bottom of the doc. Here's an example of part of the outline of the first chapter of spinning silk and how bare bones it is:

25) What’s your favorite part of the writing process (worldbuilding, brainstorming/outlining, writing, editing, etc)?

The writing, the writing, the writing. Oh, I love the writing. I love seeing it all come together, I love finding words and connections and motifs that I wouldn't have while I was planning, because something about the writing process and being in the moment makes the synapses click. I love discovering the story for the first time, and then making it better. I love reaching those character moments and emotional catharses. Oh, I love it.

34) How much of your personal life/experience do you include in your fics?

I like to think that all writers draw from a real and deep well of their inner being when tey write the stories that mean most to them, whether it's happening-truth or story-truth. That is to say, sometimes I will draw from real life of what has externally happened to me--events, moments, places, anecdotes, etc. And then there's also the story-truth--maybe I didn't go through X thing as the character is, but the emotions that fueled how I wrote their reaction may have come from a real place, albeit in a different context. I think I always write with the latter. It's hard for me not to.

As for the former, yes, but I think in ways only I can tell. Not usually one for one, but if you notice a specific detail come up more than once across stories, it's possibly drawing from a significant memory. Also, I always think about how much my sister shows up in my writing. Basically every moment or story that is about love, she's there.

36) What fic are you proudest of?

courage of stars (Link Click), hands down. I think that's the hardest I ever worked on a fic, and I'm so, so grateful for the journey and the way it turned out. I'm really excited for people to keep reading it and I am so hoping you guys like it. It was the story that, when I first thought of it, I thought over and over to myself, Gosh, can I pull this off? Can I? My first time tackling mystery, as well as being able to write the kind of story I've so longed to write in my life as a writer. Tying to the previous question, I've always wanted to write a magic realism fic about a place and family history so dear and close to my heart. I always wanted to write a story that reflects love. Getting to do that with this fic has been such a blessing and a gift.

I'm also really proud of spinning silk (Link Click), greater love has no one than this (Trigun Stampede), here be dragons (1917), Lovable (Avatar: The Last Airbender), and May you bury me (Avengers). The thing about the latter fic is that it's incomplete, and I admit I can't make promises whether I will update it anytime soon. But man, that fic really fought its way through. But for all of these stories, they're multichapter fics (and we all know how hard it can be to finish or tackle those!) that I genuinely would pray and thank God like thank you for letting me have the joy of storytelling through these stories. Thank you for letting me partake in a reflection of the beauty of creation. I guess that's sappy but that's how these stories have kind of been set apart from the other fics I've written. Deep gratitude.

With that definition, also want to shout out Seven Pieces of Chalk, where the gratitude runs deep. I would say I’m proud of it but I don’t even think pride is the right word. I can’t believe it exists. I’m so grateful it does and that I got to help it do so. I’m still blown away by its effect. I don’t quite believe it was me, in a way. I was a teenybopper at the time after all.

49) What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

Gosh that's a great question. I don't know?? I've written fic probably for longer than some of my readers have been alive lol (I'm in my late twenties) so I feel like my writing has evolved throughout time. What introduces me today might not introduce me tomorrow or yesterday, you know? That being said, I kind of want to say Lovable (Avatar the Last Airbender). Just based on vibes.

57) How conscious are you about including symbolism or foreshadowing in your fics?

I'm honestly pretty conscious about it. That's why I get so excited when people in the comments mention what they notice, or a detail that is slipped into the narrative that, little do they know, is going to become important later. It makes me so very excited. Also, I love a good callback and bookend. That being said, I still have moments where a reader makes a clever connection I didn't notice!

[iaus]

fucking. you stole capital letters from me. i feel wrung out in the best way possible to the point that capitalization of any kind would be wrong right now. fuck. god. amazing stunning job.

anyways ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ literally anything about epilogue or anything you want. i feel insane.

eheh glad to see the ending is hitting as intended. and oh i do have something i would like to talk about because chapter 15 jace is my ultimate beloved. wretched little man.

we're gonna look at the second scene from the last chapter because i think it gives us a glimpse of honest jace. and how he's changed.

so our second scene has jace just being like really pissed. he talks about how he's a resentful of his human mother (because he can't get to sleep), he has like an actual angry reaction when he sees the marriage certificate, and nearly falls down the stairs and is able to reflexively cast a spell! which considering his fixation on his magic, you'd think he would be focusing on that. like hey you are not a heaving sweaty mess from casting your own magic? isn't that great?

no.

he has a thought about porter because of course he does (and i mean, he's looking at the sex couch so, yea). but:

But the thought he has cuts through, sharp: What if Porter doesn’t want to return? What if Porter chooses death over Jace?

i'm gonna definitely give a shoutout to @zukkacore for this line because seeing posts of "jace chose porter over death" have like. changed me on a fundamental level. i've internalized that.

but this comes back to jace actually looking at something he's insecure at! yay! he's reflecting! wait...

A cold seeping pit of dread begins to form in the pit of his chest. His pulse rabbits into something close to panic. What if by some strange stroke of luck, His soul is unwilling? Where does that leave Jace? Or, worse: What if Porter comes back ungrateful?

and then we get to this being like... okay maybe he's going to have another grief spiral... as he's been doing... we have all the tell-tale signs: he's cold, he's panicking, he doubting if porter would choose him. (i don't think i'm ready to have the conversation of jace having meredith gray coding in my head yet. we're not ready)

but... jace has a very notable reaction. he's been so grief stricken this entire fic but... here:

The reaction is immediate—he is moving, bumping into the wall in his haste to get to the papers on the breakfast table—almost as immediate as the rushing, icy swell of disdain—spite.

he gets mad. he chooses ACTION. he storms into the kitchen and has... almost a porter-ish reaction in some ways. but it's also very distinct. but, porter is still here to him, no matter where he goes and he even imagines porter mocking him:

A damning tide of disgust. He can see it clearly—the way Porter would wrap a hand around his throat, eyes hard and distant, What took you so long, pet? You were supposed to be better than this.

the worst thing to jace isn't porter not coming back. this is a truth that shows a little peek into jace's mind: he would rather porter stay dead than porter be ungrateful. and then we cut into a scene where he thinks about him and porter in the kitchen and unlike these past chapters he actually... includes a really bad, telling memory in my opinion:

Jace’s hand trembles as he draws the marriage certificate from the folder. The rest of the documents spill out along the table—the table Porter served him breakfast at, where they had had a screaming match that caused one of Porter’s neighbors to call the landline and ask, nervously, if everything was okay. Where Porter had kissed his neck, hid his face from Jace as he said so sweetly, Come back to me, sweetheart, we’re meant to do this together.

we now know they have fought so bad, so loud that neighbors have called asking if everything is okay. this also could presumably be where porter convinced jace to go to the mountains of chaos with him. for their.... wedding. so we get a little glimpse into the not so happy marital bliss (but even then it's still softened. there's still a bit of a longing ache to it.)

and now. this is one of my favorite parts i will admit:

If he comes back ungrateful, he thinks, the ghost of Porter’s lips warm at his pulse, I’ll kill him. He pictures the blood; the way Porter would struggle—still weak from the sickness of returning to the mortal plane. The intimacy.

this is jace changed. to me this is very porter-like behavior. jace is taking pages from porter's book the day he is meant to resurrect him. he is thinking of how he is going to kill porter himself if he is not grateful and fawning.

and.... we learn what will happen if he does kill porter:

He puts his lighter against the corner of the certificate. Truly, he outdid himself. Strikes the flint. Then I’ll follow. Watches it burn.

they're in this together.

or they're buried together.

[riderofblackdragons]

Day 4: Vivisection

Ok so first off, sorry this is late! The next few days are also probably going to be late bc of internet issues, so yay **jazz hands**

Anyways, I had to look up what vivisection even is lol, so that was also fun. It's cutting people (or animals) up specifically for experimentation btw

Anyways, I'm really glad that people seem to be enjoying so far, and I hope you enjoy this one too! It does get a bit gruesome tho, so be wary of that

There was something about it that was just a little bit pathetic. Kol watched the scalpel trace down the man’s chest, he didn’t even know his name, cutting in and letting the blood seep out. It stopped just below his breasts, letting the pain come onto him before they continued.

He wasn’t doing it alone, of course. Elijah was here, a steady presence against Kol’s back, his hand holding the scalpel with Kol’s. In another room, Enzo and Damon were dealing with some other men, members of the Augustine Society. Occasionally, scream and cries would ring out, making the man with Kol and Elijah tense up.

And, well. It wasn’t like he didn’t deserve this. He’d helped with the experiments, after all, although it had been a few years since he’d participated in anything other than the New Year’s parties. He’d held this scalpel once, or something like it, drawing it down Kol’s own chest, stopping in the same place he had now.

Elijah was holding onto it for pressure, and to make sure the knife didn’t shift around too much. He was letting his brother control where they placed it, and when they stopped, as the one who’d been the actual victim.

Eventually, the blood might stop. It could be that this man’s body would run out of blood, it all coming out from this one cut, or it could clot, and try to heal in that way. Or, it could close in the method of a different experiment he’d run on Kol in the years past - true, as a non-vampire he was impervious to the sun, but.

Well, the lighter Elijah had gotten, at Kol’s quiet request, would help him feel the same agony either way.

“Just like our siblings,” Elijah told him, holding the man down and burning his skin off. “So quick to resort to arson, little brother”

Kol didn’t reply. Most of their communication was mental, anyways, with Elijah’s gift of their mental abilities. Slipping into the surface of Kol’s mind was easy in comparison.

As this man, and his accomplices in the next room over, had found out. They’d been tormented for weeks by their own minds, long before Elijah and his companions had made it around to them. There was nightmares, which would then increase their paranoia, and then they would try to run, and find that they were trapped. And then, they would wake up, and find themselves unable to run anyways, too sleep-deprived to even find the exit to their houses.

Honestly, it was the most exercise Elijah had given his mental abilities in years, maybe even centuries! His presence enough was usually enough, even without either of his brothers around. And this was for his family, given how much Kol clung to him. As though Elijah would just vanish as soon as he let go, even though he had given his word that he would stay.

Not even their other siblings suddenly calling for help would remove Elijah from Kol’s side now, not for the world. Even if the blood kept getting on Elijah’s clothes, and Kol was still scared to drink from anything other than Elijah’s own wrist or neck. Even if he did wish for some privacy sometimes, although Elijah knew better than to ask aloud. He didn’t want Kol to freak, after all, and he knew that he would, if Elijah made any move to leave him.

The blood from this recent act of vengeance wasn’t going to get on his clothes, thankfully. Or well, they were, but that was only because Kol was wearing an ill-fitting dress shirt of Elijah’s today, and he was closest to the man they were torturing.

Knives were a favourite, although the fire from the lighter was a close second for Kol. Burning the wounds, cauterising them only to make new ones, brought screams from his former tormentors, and Kol revelled in it. Paper scrunched up into a ball, soaked in gasoline. He shoved it into the man’s mouth, letting him choke on it.

Then, Kol set it on fire.

It caught quickly, first the paper and then the man’s beard around his mouth, spreading along the hairs until his face was alight. If he could’ve screamed, Kol knew he would’ve, like how Kol had screamed when they’d set him alight via the sun. Like when they’d burned so many other vampires to dust, trying to see if they could replicate what happened with Kol.

It felt just, to watch the man burn to death, cooked alive inside his own skull. The restraints kept him there, and Elijah didn’t even try to move them away from it, understanding that Kol needed to watch. For himself, and for justice to feel as though it had been served.

“Thank you,” He would later whisper to his older brother, as they set out from the burning house.

Elijah would hum in response, but just continue walking as though Kol didn’t say anything. Like it was a given that he would go this far for him, that Kol shouldn’t even feel the need to thank him for it. And, after thinking over it for a little longer, Kol thought he liked it better that way.

[polyhexian]

Raine's entire experience in the eventually AU cracks me up.

Like, on the one hand, the rebellion seems to have a bit more steam earlier on here? (is that a result of Jasper being alive? or just headcanon?) In canon there didn't seem to be much organized rebellion until, like, a month before the Day of Unity. So they've got that going for them.

And they've got the Martlet! Who is a very strong ally, even if they can't figure out what the guy's whole DEAL is. Who is he? Where'd he come from? What's with the lack of magic? What's with the broken hawk palisman? How does he seem to have better castle intel than Raine does despite Raine WORKING IN THE CASTLE? Why is he so standoffish about getting more involved when he OBVIOUSLY hates Belos? He is weirdly obsessed with fighting the Golden Guard but also insanely protective of the Golden Guard? His motivations are inscrutable and make no sense. But beggars can't be choosers and the Martlet is really good at what he does, so Raine doesn't question him much.

But the guy isn't all that great at cashing in favors? He just keeps racking them up. What does he WANT??

When he DOES cash in a favor or name his price in a trade, it makes no SENSE.

"I want more information on the Golden Guard."

"You probably know more about the Golden Guard's fighting skills and tactics than anyone else at this point."

"Not that kind of information. I want to know ABOUT him. His likes, dislikes, personal history…"

Raine squints at the Martlet. "Okay, I'm aware you two are rivals, but this is a bit much." They can't afford to worry too much about the Golden Guard, aside from worrying that he doesn't get in the CATTs' way. The child soldier thing is messed up, but the kid is severely brainwashed and there's not much Raine can do when they need to focus on saving all of the Isles. Still… "Are you aware that the Golden Guard is a teenage boy?"

The Martlet straightens up. "Aha, so you are aware that the Golden Guard is a teenage boy."

"That…doesn't answer my question."

"Nope, but it's answered several of mine."

Raine groans, but the Martlet's price is relatively inexpensive and while the guy is weird he's never been a creep, so they say, "I know of a few people who were involved in his upbringing, I'll see what I can do."

Things progress generally along the same lines as canon for a while. Raine's got the CATTs, and they reunite with Eda for a bit, and then Darius and Eberwolf "protect" them in the stupidest way possible but at least it ends with them joining the CATTs, and they've got to fake being brainwashed by Terra's STUPID tea, but everything proceeds as usual.

And then Any Sport in a Storm happens.

"Darius," Raine says, staring blearily at the other man, "it is four in the morning. WHAT is so important that YOU are skipping out on your beauty sleep to knock on my door at four in the morning?"

"I need the Martlet's contact information," Darius says, wild-eyed.

"…Why?"

Darius draws a blank. "Um…classified?"

Raine decides they don't want to know and gives him the Martlet's scroll number.

And then things get weird. Darius doesn't leave his room for like two days and when he does he's oddly jumpy now? Eberwolf seems to think he's depressed by WHY is anyone's guess. And then Darius starts trying to befriend the Golden Guard?? Why?? Darius we're running a rebellion we need to stay UNDER the kid's radar - You're going on a camping trip? What? YOU? What's this about eating bugs??

If they try to contact the Martlet during this time period they are. taken aback. by what a bad mood the guy's in.

And there's a million ways Hollow Mind could go down, but if it goes down in such a way that Raine remains oblivious to the whole Jasper situation, they are just. So confused. Like, okay, we didn't get into the Emperor's mind, but we got the intel we needed. Time to stop the Day of Unity!

The Golden Guard ran away for some reason and Raine is like, okay, one threat eliminiated, yay? Except now Darius is freaking out over the missing kid and it's like, Darius. Darius can you please focus? Darius we are all going to die.

They try calling the Martlet like 50 times before he finally picks up and they're like, look, we figured out what the Day of Unity is, and it's bad, we need all hands on deck! Are you in or what? What do you mean no? So just because you're a wild witch you're gonna leave everyone with a sigil to die?

"I'M A LITTLE BUSY, WHISPERS."

"Busy doing WHAT? What could possibly be more important than - did he just hang up on me?!"

Eda's house gets raided but Eda herself isn't captured, so that's a relief, but Darius is really cagey all of a sudden, and - what's this about the Martlet single-handedly holding off an Emperor's Coven attack squad at Hexside? What is he DOING?

Darius finds the Golden Guard. Yay? The kid isn't on Belos's side anymore so that's good and Darius wants to give him a mission and you know what, knock yourself out Darius, Raine is just going to ignore whatever's going on there and focus on the ACTUAL plan. The Martlet STILL isn't answering their calls. Why does Raine feel like they're the only one who cares about this rebellion?

And then, y'know, Day of United, puppetization, possession, final battle, stomping Belos into an unrecognizable puddle of goo before seeing the spirit of their god ascend into the aether. Raine has had. A long day. Week. Month. Whatever. But they've won! Everyone's alive! And there are reunions!

Darius is with the Golden Guard kid, because of course he is. There is a strange man glaring very intently at Darius. Darius looks terrified of the guy but that is not stopping him from listening to Hunter's ramblings.

The strange man is the Martlet. The Martlet is the previous Golden Guard. And also Hunter's father. WHAT? WHAT??

And Raine looks at this enigma of an ally whom they have never been able to figure out, who is apparently the Emperor's old lackey and infamous bogeyman, and who the CATTs owe approximately five million favors to.

Shit.

And Raine is like, okay, what do you want. Are you after money? Power? What is your GAME?? I'll have you know we aren't going to replace one tyrant with another BUT I admit your leadership experience COULD come in handy so if you want a seat in the new government we've got to build up I could probably arrange SOMETHING.

And this man just looks at them and says, "I'm going on paternity leave. Don't call me."

And Raine is just like. What is HAPPENING.

DONT CALL ME FIRUABNDJFOWKRF

god raines perception of this man is so funny. He's a weirdo who won't listen to them unless they bring him a plain boiled egg for lunch. The only favours he ever cashes in are "can you find out what the golden guards favourite animal is" and "if anyone but me touches a hair on the golden guards head I'll blow up the boiling isles myself." He's so fucking DRAMATIC. And after the day of unity they don't see him again! It's three months and until Raine is captured they keep an eye out, but he appears to be gone. Either he ran away like he seemed to want to, or he got killed. Either way he's out of the picture and he's probably never coming back. Then. Who the fuck is that guy over there with Darius and Hunter.

Actually I imagined in hollow mind jasper shows up to the party late because obviously this was NOT on hunters mission schedule, and it is also not the weekend or his day off!! By the time he gets to the owl house eber and Raine and Darius are panicking in the bushes frantically arguing about what to do when the Martlet fucking emerges from the brush panting for air like what the FUCK did you DO. And they explain what happened as quickly as they can and he's like SO GO TELL THEM HOW THE FUCKING SPELL WORKS???? SO THEY CAN GET THEM OUT??? and they're like but our secret identities and-- at which point jasper just grabs Darius and drags him across the yard, kicks open the door and throws him on the floor. Everyone inside like HELLO and the Martlet like HE IS GOING TO TELL YOU HOW TO FIX THIS NOW.

And here, for DRAMA, it's like when Luz went in that portal she made for the vee episode, where they had her tied with a rope so they could pull her back? They have to send someone in to grab them so they can pull them back, and obviously jasper insists. Because how fucking cool would it be for the kids to be finally cornered by Belos like they were just before they got teleported back only for jasper to show up out of nowhere with a flapjack staff to block a big dramatic blow and Belos to freeze like YOU-! and a moment of absolute terror on jaspers face before he grabs the kids and yells he's got them and gets pulled back. And then they all drop on the floor, hunter panics and bolts, and jasper frantically goes after him but oh god, jasper just got hit hard, maybe he hurt a leg or something and he can't CATCH him and Hunter goes off on his exciting homeless era while jasper is left to collapse in the woods and wail angrily at god because he was so fucking close!

And of course he doesn't go back to Eda's or explain shit lmfao he's just gone again like fucking always

Can you imagine Raine seeing THAT. He drags Darius away. Enters the owl house all dramatically. Long silence. Flash of light, lots of yelling. Door slams open, hunter sprints into the woods. Martlet runs after him, bleeding, also vanishes into the woods. Darius stumbles out with a thousand yard stare. Raine is like what the FUCK happened??? And Darius is like I need a nap goodbye

[absolutely-wretched]

the twilight reveal (my dissertation)

I'm back on the Buffy comics train and just finished the second to last volume of season 8 for the first time since 2020 and here we goooooo (read more so if you want to hurt yourself physically and emotionally with spoilers you can, but you have an out.)

Twilight's mask comes off. I remember this. I don't remember it in detail, but my head instinctively goes into my hands. The trauma. The pain. The cringe. I've never felt so betrayed by Joss until I read the single worst thing he's ever written. and it hurts, just like in 2020. except not i'm reading it with my fiance and it compounds the cringe.

Spike got his SOUL BACK FOR YOU. He died for YOUR CAUSE. And just like when Angel comes back to give her the amulet, it all goes out the window for captain fucking forehead and I'M PISSED. Not to mention the most painful sex I've ever had to witness. Painful in the sense of cringey. Also, is Buffy possessed by Twilight too? Because why in all fuck would she be superpower fucking her ex just because he says "don't you want to be happy?". He's not acting normal at all, and all of this is bombastically weird and makes very little sense and Buffy just does it without questioning it? Let's live in our own microuniverse? WHY?????? Help? Why? Joss what were you going through when you wrote this??? I couldn't have come up with something worse when I was writing fanfiction at 14. I know that's the worst hurdle in the comics but damn. At least there's swearing in the comics, though, I'm not complaining that, it's very realistic.

Okay and why is NO ONE concerned about angel losing his soul??? Everyone knows it's happening and no one asks. Buffy doesn't ask. I'm screaming at the pages for someone to ask bc I'm asking and it makes no sense. the chill days of me defending the writing choices of buffy and satsu and taking mecha dawn in comedy stride are over. what in the absolute fuck. I hate it so much.

so then we get to buffy rejecting this INSANITY finally and that's cool. fuck destiny and all that. there's my girl. my selfishly driven girl (and no, that's not a chracter trait the comics invented, i could write a dissertation on buffy's character flaws from the show, they just seem to be amplified in the comics). dawn is actually the only one who seems to be questioning everything so i'm now team dawn. and xander rejecting buffy. i like xander a lot in the comics.

The best thing about this volume is this:

But I fear, since it's the end before the last volume, that i will be SO FURIOUS about a lot of things said and done in the issues cooming up, since we will have Spike and Angel and Buffy all in the same room together, and I really hope they don't do to Spike what they did in s5 of Angel which is downplay how great he is to make captain boredom look better in comparison.

and GOD i miss lynch so much. i'm not sure if it's the people writing joss's ideas or writing with joss, because I know lynch wrote after the fall but it was joss's story, so I'm thinking maybe the people writing the comics might have made it worse (even if joss's story BEATS for this was already bad). I at least know whoever storyboarded made a god damn mess of it, because half the time i couldn't figure what was going on based on the drawings in the panels.

ALSO I had this rant in the tags once about how much it bothered me that they took away Spike's black nail polish after he got his soul, genuinely annoying me that something so iconic was ripped from his design. so YAY for the return of the nail polish! Keep it!

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

Why Should a Star, a Star Ever Be Afraid of the Dark

First posted: May 17, 2019

Focuses on: Peter Parker and Morgan Stark (MCU)

Tier: Low, so low, so unappreciated

This is my “behind the scenes” series where I indulge myself horribly by annotating my fics. Link to the fic itself above. Thoughts below the cut.

Ah, another unexpected MCU fic that burst out of my chest through the force of my post-Endgame emotions. Since it's not my primary fandom and I posted in a time where much much larger writers were also saying things, it got next to no attention, then or now. That's okay. I'm still glad I wrote it.

Peter bit his bottom lip as he traced the metal leg of the Imperial Walker, extending the line of grey from the box shape of the body down to where the snow would be. Maybe he shouldn’t have picked the Battle of Hoth as his muse. A snow battle on white paper was boring. He paused, frowned, and set the paper aside.

It's funny, writing fic with well-known characters, because you want to get them right. But there are so many ways to perceive a character, especially one that's been portrayed and analyzed so many different ways, so it often comes down less to what makes logical, concrete sense and more about what just feels right. Even this opening was a lot of mentally flipping through a bunch of different options until I found one that felt right for Peter. I also think Calvin and Hobbes did a similar joke with a drawing of a tiger hiding in snow or something. Call it an homage.

Peter was still getting used to Morgan, to everything like her that proved that life had gone on while he had been… away. One minute, he’d been a regular kid punching aliens in space, and the next, it was five years later. Five whole years. And there were people like Morgan who hadn’t existed when he’d closed his eyes but were suddenly here, sparkly princess tiara on her head and a tiny Ready to Rock t-shirt stained with what looked like a smear of goldfish crackers.

MCU really really failed when it came to the ramifications of the Snap. Such a travesty.

“See?” she had said, swinging her bare toes over the surface of the lake. “It’s better with your shoes off.” Peter had taken off his shoes, and they had sat there together, watching the air slowly thicken with gnats and then mosquitoes as the sun dipped lower and lower and turned the lake golden. She had been right about the shoes.

I forgot how much I liked this fic.

“Cheering,” Morgan said matter-of-factly. “That’s Mommy and Happy and Uncle Rhodey and you and Amanda and Maddox and Mr. Lu and Mrs. Iye and—“

It's fun naming incidental characters. Sometimes you get to slip friends in. Just for fun.

For every happy story about a family reunited, there was another about people returning only to find out that their loved ones had moved on or died. Weddings were still a thing after the Snap. So were babies. And car accidents and relocations and cancer and birthdays. Life went on. Death went on, too.

MCU BIT IT. JUST UTTERLY TANKED IT.

The crayon snapped in Peter’s hand, a tiny crack of Fern.

I had to google green crayon colors.

This was a good little fic. Next to no attention, but again, that's okay. I think I wrote a good kid Morgan who isn't too cutesy, a decent Peter, and a tolerable little look at grief. Yay me.

[trashogram]

Yeah! I personally would love to see your writing advice ^^ I'm always looking for ways to improve my writing, and getting a new perspective on writing can be super helpful ^^ like, you know I put in way too much detail 😅 you may have some advice on how to keep that from becoming a flaw in writing, or something else to do to draw the reader in ^^ you can never be too old or skilled to learn new things ^^

😊 Yay!

I also put too much detail in my writing, so I know exactly where you’re coming from! It’s better than no detail in my opinion. I think my best advice is to also have a mental hand to slap you on the mental wrist when over run-on sentences 😅

[kresnikcest]

V pls tell me abt the crossdressing cd

SO THE CROSSDRESSING CD. (yes i'm a week late, school is exhausting)

Now. mind you. this is probably not canon. like 99% not canon. definitely not.

you can listen along here, which I highly recommend tbh. My recap is based on a now-deleted CN fansub by user shinro (I did try to check JP definitions in some places but definitely do not take me as a reasonable source and I did localise some things).

CW for the typical stuff you'd expect out of a forced crossdressing-and-getting-hit-on gag from a decade ago. also extremely one-sided parent/child flirting but neither party knows they're related.

okay so, the party (Ludger, Elle, Jude, Leia, Alvin, Rowen, Elize and Teepo) enter a new FD and find themselves in a locker room. They gradually deduce that they're in a women's locker room in Spirius, and are almost caught by two female employees, but Leia gets the guys to hide behind the door, and then lies to the employees that she's accompanying Elle and Elize for a Rieze Maxian goodwill visit, but they forgot Teepo and were coming back to grab him.

The employees fangirl a little over Teepo because Fractured Ludger in this dimension is a popular agent who wears a suit with a similar design to Teepo. Somehow, Fractured Ludger is still in debt in this world, so his nickname is "the Prince of debt". Prime Ludger is not happy about this.

Fractured Ludger normally doesn't visit the HQ, except for today. The employees start worrying about being able to meet him before the groupies get to him, and Elle leverages the party "knowing" Vera to keep them quiet about them being there. The employees leave them alone to go try and see Ludger.

Rowen figures that since Fractured Ludger is a celebrity here, Prime Ludger will naturally draw attention, and since they're in a women's locker room, which is conveniently empty bc all the female agents are off trying to meet with Ludger... obviously the only solution is to dress Ludger like a girl.

Jude and Alvin immediately abandon Ludger to his fate, while Leia and Elize are very happy to help Rowen.

leia: rowen, i finally found a makeup bag. rowen: thank you very much, leia. leia: i also found a wig and a sewing kit. rowen: that's perfect, place it here and we'll get started. ludger: can someone please stop rowen? elle! elle, you don't want to see me crossdress, right? elle: i... ludger: exactly, you don't want to see that happen! rowen, how about we find some other-- elle: i want pictures!

Short time skip, everyone is super impressed with Rowen and Leia and Elize's work. Ludger is too tired to argue.

(Ludger's outfit is described as a long pink dress and a white shawl, and a tied up wig. Elize also manicured his hands. You can see it in fan art 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. Yes I have these links saved.)

Anyway, Ludger now sufficiently disguised, the party leaves the locker room. Well not before Elle gets her pictures.

elle: let's take a picture! ludger, give me your ghs! ludger: you were serious?! elle: is that bad...? ludger: uh. ugh... fine. elle: yay! now to open the camera... *snap* elle: got it! and next... ludger: do you really need to keep taking pictures? elle: i want to make it your lockscreen! ludger: stop it! give it back! elle: no! if i give it back you're just going to delete it! until we get back to the prime dimension, i'll take care of your ghs! ludger: elle...

Ludger decides they need to get out of the Spirius building first to find the Catalyst.

elle: ludger! it's so rare to see you this pretty, you should sound the part too! alvin: she's right, you have to act like a proper lady. ludger: you should act like it's none of your business! elize: but, we put so much effort into our preparations... ludger: ugh. *falsetto* i understand. is that better? jude: ludger, look out! ludger: uh, i'm sorry-- niisa... julius: ah, pardon me. hm? you are... outside personnel, aren't you? this floor is forbidden to unauthorised staff. ludger: uh. that's right, my apologies, julius-san.

(obligatory fan art.)

Leia lies that they forgot something in the building. Julius says they should have asked the management for help, to which Rowen and Jude say someone did help them, but then they got lost after finding it.

julius: still, that's strange... and this young miss here seemed like she recognised me. ludger: but you're a famous agent! julius: famous? ludger: er... everyone says you're great! elize: and um, we really were only here to get my doll... teepo: there's nothing strange about that~ julius: that doll... but of course. whenever he comes to visit the company, there's always people trying to sneak in like this. ludger: um... julius: you must be fans of ludger, aren't you?

Elize denies it and Teepo says that Ludger is copying him, but Julius just tells them they don't need to deny it that strongly. Ludger begrudgingly agrees in his regular tone of voice, so Alvin covers up for him and pretends he said it 😂 Julius doesn't seem to believe him... but...

julius: never mind, after seeing the face of this beautiful young lady, i won't question you any further. ludger: what.

Actually, he'll take them all to the front door, and he'd like to talk to fem!Ludger specifically... Don't worry, he only wants to know fem!Ludger's feelings about his little brother, nothing else. It's an older brother thing.

While Ludger suffers in the background, Jude and Leia remark that Fractured Julius has the unexpected temperament of a sister-in-law. (And yes that gender is right, they say 小姑).

Alvin wonders if Julius has figured out this is Ludger crossdressing, but Julius casually talks about how he had told Fractured Ludger he could help with his debt, but that Fractured Ludger had insisted on taking care of it himself. Ludger continues suffering in the background.

Julius explains that the job Fractured Ludger got was testing out products in the Suprisingly-Super-Convenient-Goods room (it's a room in Spirius you can visit in-game). They have a tendency to explode.

Anyway, it turns out the reason why Fractured Ludger is super popular is because of one of the SSCG room's inventions, a suit that's meant to soothe people's nerves and let them do the best they can. Everyone who wears that suit, no matter the person, have become incredibly popular, Fractured Ludger included. Julius chalks up the party illegally trespassing in search of him to be the result of that suit.

So, he's kind of worried about the whole thing, since Fractured Ludger once ran away after getting his heart broken...

(Ludger is suffering in the foreground.)

They finally reach the ground floor, but Fractured Ludger's been grabbed by his fans and lost in the crowd. a young Spirius agent asks Julius for help. Julius explains the party are his guests and offers fem!Ludger the chance to meet Fractured Ludger. Prime Ludger understandably does not want to meet his own self he's supposedly crushing on, but Rowen and Leia cover for him by saying they just didn't know Ludger was that popular. Julius walks off to investigate the situation, leaving the young agent with the party.

julius: please, wait a moment here. i'll ask after checking out how things are going. employee: after? mr. julius, didn't you just agree to help-- and he's gone. elle: hey, oji-san! 20-something year old employee: "oji-san"... uh... what's up, kiddo? elle: are all the people here ludger's fans? employee: yep. elle: ludger's amazing...

The nameless not-ojisan agent dives into the crowd to help fish Fractured Ludger out, and immediately disappears into the crowd of fangirls.

The party catch sight of a purple aura in the crowd, and wonder at the sheer power of the Teepo-patterned suit... Then Jude asks if they're not just seeing the glow of a Divergence Catalyst?

ludger: the famous me is a divergence catalyst...  which means the future me could never be popular... elle: isn't this ludger only popular because of the suit? ludger: in other words, there's no way for me to be popular on my own merits.

Julius returns, and offers the back door of the building as a way for them to escape the crowd, and besides, fem!Ludger still wants to meet Fractured Ludger, right? Ludger says it feels different seeing how popular Fractured Ludger is, but Julius assures him it's just the effect of the suit, and it's a better effect than Ludger blowing up.

julius: ah, be careful not to walk into someone. ludger: what-- [ludger walks into someone] bisley: ah, pardon me. ludger: ah, no, i should be the one-- uh. jude: mr. bisley... julius: mr. president. what are you doing here?

It's Bisley, who's here to see the results of the SCCG's invention. Bisley asks who the party are, and Julius says they're his guests. Bisley wonders why it seems like they recognised him... Julius says it'd be odd if they didn't, considering he's the CEO. Bisley is still a bit suspicious... but...

bisley: never mind, after seeing the face of this beautiful young lady, i won't question you any further. jude: beautiful... alvin: ...young lady-- ludger: huh. you--you mean me? bisley: indeed. if you don't mind, allow me to guide you out of the building instead of julius. ludger: n... no, i wouldn't dare trouble the president of the company to act as a guide. bisley: don't be so courteous, i'd like to know more about you. ludger: *suffering* julius: please, stop it, you're confusing her. bisley: you truly are a most elegant young lady. ludger: no, i uh... actually i was interested in ludger...

(obligatory fanart)

The young not-ojisan agent from earlier finally retrieves Fractured Ludger from the crowd, and balks a little at the presence of the CEO. The party ascertains for sure that the suit is the Divergence Catalyst, so Rowen sets up a distraction by pretending to feel faint, and he and Jude and Alvin retreat to another room.

Fractured Ludger asks what the party were saying about his suit, and explains that he wants to change the design. Teepo objects that he can't change the pattern, so Fractured Ludger figures he'll just change the colour then, then asks what the party are there for. Leia says they're here to see the Prince.

fractured ludger: they call me the prince but it's "the prince of debt". it's not really a nice nickname to hear. and this beautiful young lady is...? ludger: huh. me? fractured ludger: have we met before? ludger: maybe... every day in front of the mirror. fractured ludger: hm? i'm sorry, i didn't hear what you just said. ludger: i was just saying you have the wrong impression, i'm from rieze maxia after all. bisley: rieze maxia, you say? then you must be a part of the goodwill delegation? ludger: y-yes! bisley: i had no idea, if i had known a lady like you would be attending the goodwill party, i would have certainly gone myself. ludger: mr. president, you flatter me-- bisley: it's no flattery ludger: *suffering* (how much longer do you guys need, save me already!)

The fire alarm goes off. They speculate something exploded in the SSCG room. Bisley takes Julius to meet with security (I think) to evacuate the crowd, and instructs Fractured Ludger to evacuate the employees. Prime Ludger offers to take the suit off of Fractured Ludger so its powers won't interfere with the evacuation. Fractured Ludger relents, and also says that fem!Ludger's safety is more important than some suit, and to get to safety first.

Rowen, Jude, and Alvin return, having created a smoking mist and then pulled the fire alarm. Spirius has already evacuated the room, leaving them all alone with the Divergence Catalyst.

Jude asks if Ludger isn't going to change clothes, since with the Key of Kresnik, he's going to return to the Prime Dimension still dressed the way he is. Ludger panics and demands his clothes back from Elle's bag. Rowen laments the self-consciousness of youth, and Ludger asks if Rowen would be comfortable if Gaius saw him crossdressing. Rowen replies that (I think) whatever shame he feels would be accompanied by the knowledge of his skills at disguise. Jude says (I think) that whatever anyone's preferences for crossdressing, it's still embarrassing to be seen by others.

Ludger changes back and destroys the Catalyst. They return to the Prime Dimension.

leia: but ludger, you were really so pretty! like a model! you were even popular with julius and bisley! teepo: and you were popular with Fractured Ludger too! ludger: i'm not happy being popular with guys. and it seems like nova still rejected me anyway... elle: but i used ludger's ghs to take some pictures! leia: that's right! we still have pictures! elle: ta-da! elize: ludger's so pretty~ teepo: he's like a supermodel! ludger: delete that already! elle: no way! it was so hard taking such pretty pictures, deleting them would be a waste! elize: ludger, could you send those pictures to my ghs? teepo: if you don't, we'll call you "the prince of debt"! ludger: spare me already...

Rowen says he needs them for future reference. Ludger is adamant nothing like this is happening again.

rowen: you never know what might happen. haven't you heard of the saying about "covering all your bases"? ludger: in that case, shouldn't everyone be prepared to crossdress? alvin: i can’t. rowen: i can’t either. ludger: how can you be so sure?! rowen: because i have a beard. alvin: because i grew a beard. ludger: a beard... jude: ludger... what are you looking at me for? ludger: nothing... maybe i'll just grow a beard too...