#I'm going to take this casually and only post the prompts I did manage to finish

[tev-the-random]

Emptober Day 1 - Trinket

Fwhip had his flaws, that was undeniable. But he was also, under the doubt of no one, the kind of person who saw some sort of value in everything. Where there were possibilities, there was opportunity, and where there was trash, there was treasure.

It had started with toys.

The young heir of Grimlands was known by the staff of the mansion to be a horribly careless child. Anything he touched, he broke. However, it was never a matter of clumsiness, as most thought, but rather, curiosity: if he had a toy train, he would take it apart to see what made it move; if someone gave the twins a doll, he would dismember it to see how the joints were connected; if his sister was gifted a plushie, he would find a way to pull it apart at the seams to see what was inside. Nothing was safe within his reach.

When eventually Fwhip learned to be more considerate of his sister’s possessions, Gem had already moved on to entertaining herself with books. Her brother’s reputation as a trouble child was established, and he would only grow to earn it as the years went by. Though sometimes Gem hoped he would get in trouble, deep down she was fascinated whenever he came back to her with his discoveries.

-

It was around the time Fwhip had discovered redstone that Gem discovered magic.

At first, their learning experience was ridden with issues: while Gemini would find her powers going out of control and set fire to her curtains at least once a week, Fwhip would more often than not create giant messes of red dust that didn’t actually do anything. But while she was a sponge of knowledge, he was a tinkerer at heart, and slowly but surely, they balanced each other out. He helped her make tools that would stabilize her spells or, at the very least, do damage control, which he was no stranger to. She helped him keep track of his work and find new obscure sources and tips on the matter of redstone.

Fwhip’s toys no longer interested him as a whole. Their parts, however, were always useful. Soon he would find himself getting his hands on old clocks, broken pistons, jammed dispensers and silent jukeboxes for their functioning pieces, and an ever-growing collection started to be hoarded. Everything could be taken apart and put together as something else, something new.

As the twins became masters of their craft, the Grimlands became their canvas. The two of them tried to solve every single problem in the most extravagant ways, and all it took for them to get banned from the forge entirely was just a little bit of creativity and constant bickering about the right way to do things. Whatever trouble they could get into, whatever responsibilities they could avoid, they did, and they covered for each other just as much as they laughed at their own mistakes. Or at least, Fwhip did.

When gunpowder was introduced to his arsenal of materials, Fwhip quickly became used to experiments exploding in his face. If anything, he liked setting things on fire and relished in his errors. Gem, on the other hand, took her role as the responsible sibling seriously. More and more often she would lecture her brother on the dangers of his recklessness, and the time she spent in her room or in the library would only increase. The truth was, magic was a volatile and dangerous thing. Though her own dignity kept her from saying it out loud, Gem greatly feared endangering others if her technique was anything less than perfect, if she was anything other than wise.

Fwhip thought she worried too much. Once again, they balanced each other out, for he was the calm and the chaos to her anxiety and her focus, respectively. Much like two cogs in a big machine, they naturally moved one another.

But as the end of their teenage years steadily approached, those gears found themselves trying to spin in contrasting directions.

Fwhip had plans for their empire. Though he never thought of himself as much of a ruler, he had the rising ambition to make the Grimlands the most advanced nation in the continent. His once childish dreams had flourished into the knowledge that his home had just as much potential as he did. The possibilities were endless, and so were his ideas.

Gem, on the other hand, knew her destiny was elsewhere. Her homeland had its own magic, to be sure, but it definitely wasn’t known for it; there had been no native wizards for generations. She had the growing feeling of being stuck in a cage, kept away from so many wonders. The source of all the crystals they imported, the magical creatures that couldn’t withstand the bustling society of the Grimlands, her own space to let her magic lose, all of that could be just over the mountains. Gem had a talent, and she knew that if she were to pursue it, to become a proper wizard, she would have to leave her life, her family and her future throne behind.

It didn’t take long for Fwhip to notice his sister’s pensiveness, and no longer for him to figure out the reason. He didn’t blame her. But maybe there was something he could do.

-

‘Hey, Gem? Can you help me with something real quick?’

She considered responding with “no, I’m busy” and closing the door on his face. But there was something about his eagerness that made her sigh and agree to follow him instead.

Unlike Fwhip, she hadn’t intruded her sibling’s personal space in years, and she was glad she didn’t; his bedroom was an absolute nightmare. All sorts of schematics and blueprints filled the walls and littered the floor. Bits and pieces of machinery were scattered all around the spacious room, as well as dead potted flowers, copper cables, broken arrows and one too many sticks of TNT. A light coat of redstone dust seemed to cover everything.

‘How do you live like this?’

‘It’s called organised chaos, Gem.’ And indeed, like someone who knew exactly how to manoeuvre around the mess, Fwhip entered the room with ease.

‘You should really get yourself a workshop to put all of this stuff.’ Gem followed, walking on the tip of her toes to avoid stepping on anything important. ‘You shouldn’t sleep on top of all of this junk.’

‘Hey, it’s not junk! These are my things, thank you very much’ Fwhip said in the most dignified manner. He started going through his drawers as he continued. ‘Anyway, you said you might be studying abroad next year, right? You were trying to convince dad or something.’

‘Yeah... I could really use some field experience, and there are some great wizards in Rivendell. Dad says it might be good for our external relations, so there is a possibility.’

‘Ugh, it’s always business with you two.’ Finally, the tinkerer pulled a small bag from the dark void that were his possessions. It chimed quietly when he shook it.

‘Look, if you don’t actually need me for anything, I’ll go back to-’

‘No no no, come here!’

As Gem approached, Fwhip pushed all the materials that were on top of his desk onto the floor, gaining some space to empty the bag. Its contents sparkled under the beam of sunlight that was coming through the window, though it didn’t shine as much as the young wizard’s eyes.

‘Wha- how did you get these?’ Her voice was a mix of reprimand, curiosity and sheer delight. She carefully picked up one of the polished pieces of amethyst and rolled it around in her hands, feeling the smallest tingle of magic within it.

Fwhip gave her a cocky smile. ‘I have my ways.’ Mimicking his sister, he inspected one of the stones, his brain already drawing all sorts of schemes. ‘You know, I just thought that maybe you could get used to staring at shiny rocks all day, if you’re gonna be a wizard. Besides, we’re neighbours with the Crystal Cliffs, it’d be a waste if all this amethyst got turned into some boring jewellery when we can make something much cooler out of it.’

‘What did you have in mind?’

-

The twins hadn’t spent so much time together in months. Fwhip made the compromise to put some of his things away so they would have space to work. The sun had reached its peak by the time they actually started, and by the time they finished, the moon had already taken its place high in the sky.

While Gem carved sigils, Fwhip broke up pieces of redstone and lapis lazuli. While he tightened screws, she elaborated a concoction in the single-bottle brewing stand he had left on his bedside table. And while she charged and assembled her new shards of amethyst, he wired the system.

If you asked them what they were trying to do, they would only say it was meant to be something beautiful. Something chemical, electrical, magical, something only the two of them would ever think of doing. But of course, their scientific piece of art would never see the light of day: it blew up as soon as they pressed a button.

They screamed.

The tinkerer was glad he had opened his window; whatever it was that Gem had used to fuel their device made it hard to breathe. His sister, on the other hand, was more preoccupied with putting out her hair — after that, she made the mental note to always tie it back when she was working.

‘Oh, that was a disaster,’ Fwhip cried once the smoke started to dissipate. ‘You ok? Gem?’

The wizard didn’t speak for a moment. The tips of her hair were scorched, her face and clothes covered in soot and redstone; she had slightly less eyebrows now than she did when they started, which Fwhip was sure was his case as well. He waited for her to yell at him.

She laughed.

‘Ok, maybe next time we should try something a little less extreme. Oh my goodness...’ She brushed the dust off her blouse, coughing as she laughed at their ridicule. It was easier to do so when there was no one else around to see it. ‘Are you ok?’

‘Yeah, I’m... I’m pretty used to it,’ Fwhip chuckled back at her. ‘First time I’ve seen the fire go purple, though.’

Both of them stared at the now cracked shards of amethyst, which were engulfed in magical lilac flames. As the fire quickly died, Gem reached for one of them; they were freezing cold to the touch, which only increased her interest. This was her first proper, independent magic experiment outside of basic enchanting table stuff.

‘What a shame. I almost thought it would work.’ The young lord picked up a shard of glass from the now destroyed contraption. ‘I see this as a valuable experience, though. If we find out what went wrong, we can try again. I don’t really know much about magic properties, maybe we just overpowered it-’

‘I think I’m good for tonight. Thanks anyway, Fwhip.’ Gem smiled softly. ‘For the amethyst, that it. It was a nice way to spend the day.’

‘You’re saying you like to spend time with me?’ Her brother said in a mocking hopeful tone. She rolled her eyes.

‘Sure. Just don’t get used to it.’

-

‘Hey, Sausage. Can you pass me a wrench, please? There should be one in one of my pockets over there.’

The current count of Grimlands was a very busy man. Whenever he wasn’t upstairs implementing all sorts of improvements to his kingdom, making sure his citizens had everything they needed, or playing much needed pranks on his fellow rulers, he was down here, tinkering away in his workshop.

Though he usually did so alone, today King Sausage had decided to drop by for no reason other than to pester him — affectionately. Well, if he’s going to stick around, he might as well help.

‘Uhhh, what’s this?’

The king of Mythland rummaged trough the pockets of Fwhip’s coat, looking for that wrench when he came by quite the peculiar object. A bent, thin copper wire stringed together a broken amethyst shard and small piece of lapis. It was stained with very old spots of redstone dust. He knew his ally to be quite the hoarder, but this seemed like an odd thing to keep in your pocket.

Fwhip looked away from the salmon tank he was currently screwing to his newest machine and squinted at Sausage, trying to identify what he was holding.

‘Oh, it’s just an old trinket.’ he said.

‘Ah, ok then. Do you want me to throw it away?’

‘Nope. Just put it back where you found it.’

Sausage abided. ‘Is it a lucky charm?’ His voice betrayed his curiosity. He found the tool he was looking for and handed it over.

‘Well, I wouldn’t say it’s lucky,’ Fwhip chortled. ‘It’s a reminder of that time Gem messed up a spell in my room and blew things up. Good times.’

‘You mean we messed up a spell in your room,’ was what announced Gem’s arrival at the secret door to the workshop. ‘The fuel leaking was your fault.’

‘Eh, same difference.’

She rolled her eyes. Sausage barely got a wave or a greeting before the Great Wizard started to go on a rant about Fwhip planting TNT in Jimmy’s base again. Not that he paid attention to it — surprisingly not because he thought Jimmy deserved it, which he did, but because something else caught his eye.

Huh. He never noticed how the tiny amethyst that made Gem’s earring was cracked, nor the awkward way it was stringed to a little piece of lapis, despite how often she wore it.

And here he thought she wasn’t one to collect trinkets.

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Hangry

Word count: ~2,000

Pairing: Steve x reader and Bucky (platonic), no pronouns used

Warnings: Just a lot of fluff. Mild cursing.

It's been a year and a half since my last posted works! I'm VERY out of practice 😅 I'm trying to work on some smaller prompts on my list while I get myself back into writing and continue working on the Loki blip in the universe prompt. It's not my best, but I hope you enjoy in any case!

This was based on a Prompt for Steve x reader as well as a prompt where reader and Bucky bug Steve while he's making a public appearance.

“Tell us, Captain, sir - how did the Avengers manage to track down the villain’s hideout this time?”

“Well, good sir - we have state-of-the-art technology that allows us to track electronic signals from thousands of miles away…”

“Ugh, he is such a ham!” you muttered to Bucky under your breath as you observed Steve from a distance. “We’re never going to make it to the store if he keeps stopping every time a reporter tries to chat him up!”

“Steve can’t resist bragging about us,” Bucky chided, nudging you with his elbow.

“Yeah, well… some of us are hungry!”

You huffed and folded your arms across your chest in annoyance, trying to catch the reporter’s eye with your scowling face, but she was far too enamored by the star-spangled captain to pay you any mind. How had a simple grocery run for ice cream turned into a twenty-minute interview with the press??

“I swear, I’m gonna go drag him away from that reporter by the ear if he doesn’t stop talking in the next 60 seconds,” you grumbled.

“Why do that when we can mess with him instead?”

You turned to look at Bucky, who had a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Go on…”

He smirked, shooting you a wink. “Watch and learn.”

You watched silently as Bucky meandered casually toward where Steve stood speaking with the reporter and her photographer. Steve was none the wiser to his friend approaching from behind.

“… but the serum isn’t the only thing that makes us heroes. It takes a whole load of grit and determina-HAY-tion-!”

Steve flinched as his best friend subtly reached up and pinched his side mid-sentence, effectively silencing him. The captain recovered quickly, though, chuckling nonchalantly as he flashed Bucky a look. He continued on with his sentence after that, refusing to acknowledge what just happened.

“Wait - Steve is ticklish??” you whispered incredulously as Bucky returned to your side.

“Very. Why does that surprise you?”

“I don’t know, I guess I just assumed the serum eliminated weaknesses like that.”

Bucky chuckled. “Nah - if anything it made it worse.”

“Oh-ho, I’ve got to try this for myself!”

You quietly paced up behind the blabbing soldier, pretending you were casually walking past to avoid drawing attention from passerby. As you stepped by him, you reached out and swiftly dug your fingertips into his ribs for less than a second. Steve choked on his words and whipped his head around instinctively. You ducked out of his field of vision and prodded his other side.

“Excuse me,” Steve requested politely, turning around as nonchalantly as possible to find you standing behind him with a guilty grin on your face. “Can I help you?”

“I just came to remind you that we have somewhere we have to be,” you stated sweetly.

“Yes, but it isn’t urgent,” he muttered.

“Oh, I think you’ll find it to be very urgent, actually,” you whispered, shooting him a cheeky wink. With a long, drawn-out sigh, Steve turned to the reporter.

“My apologies, ma’am. Duty calls.”

You saw Bucky clap a hand over his mouth and nose to cover the snort that burst from his nares. Trying hard not to openly roll your eyes in front of the reporter, you nodded in the direction of the grocery store and began marching purposefully toward your destination, with Steve following in your wake.

“You two are infuriating,” Steve grumbled once you were out of earshot from the reporter.

“Excuse me - I just want to go get my ice cream and head back home to eat it,” you countered. “You’re the one who decided to schmooze with the first person who asked you about your superpowers.”

“I’m just trying to maintain good public relations. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Ugh, no. I hate talking about myself.”

The three of you bickered amicably the entire way to the store. It hadn’t ended by the time you’d made it back to the tower kitchen and dropped your grocery bags on the counter.

“I’m just saying - it wouldn’t kill you to wear a hat or something to hide your face from reporters when we’re just trying to go to the store,” you griped, shrugging your sweatshirt off your shoulders and hanging it on the back of one of the kitchen stools.

“It wouldn’t kill you to try to be friendly to strangers every once in a while,” Steve retorted.

“Excuse me - I am a very friendly person! I’m just selective about it.”

“Friendly as an angry porcupine, sure.”

You gasped indignantly. “Are you saying I’m sharp with people??”

“You’re just a little… prickly.”

“Ooh, now that’s an insult,” Bucky hummed sarcastically.

“You’re just as bad, you know. Forget porcupines - you’re like a venomous sea urchin or something,” Steve shot back at his friend. You snorted.

“Steve… you’ve really got to work on your teasing skills,” you chuckled. “A ‘sea urchin?’ Really?”

“I could just take your ice cream”

You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t you dare.”

Steve held your gaze for a moment, eyes darting briefly to the bag on the counter between you with the ice cream inside. You lunged for the bag handle, but Steve predicted your move, snatching it out of your reach before you could get a hand on it.

“Damnit, Steve!! Give it back!” you whined, rounding the counter to swipe for the grocery bag. He turned his back to you, maintaining a barrier between you and the prize. “Bucky! Help me out here!”

“Nah, this is pretty funny to watch,” Bucky chuckled, snickering as you swatted at Steve’s arm.

“Yeah but your ice cream is in there too!”

Bucky sighed. “You make a fair point. Steve, buddy, give it back.”

Steve snorted. “You’ve been just as much a pain in my rear today! Why would I give it back to you either?”

You gasped dramatically, catching Bucky’s eye. “Are you gonna let him talk to you like that?”

“‘Course not!”

Without warning, Bucky lunged at his super soldier friend, tackling him to the floor. The bag of ice cream slipped from Steve’s grasp in his surprise, which you quickly snatched up before he could regain the wherewithal to take it back. With a triumphant shout, you tore the cover off your pint of ice cream and dug a spoon out of the drawer, swiping a scoop off the top layer and shoving it in your mouth with a contented sigh.

“Mm… finawwy,” you mumbled with your mouth full. Swallowing, you pointed your spoon accusatorially at Steve where he was currently trying to shove Bucky off himself. “You know, you’ve been a pain in my rear all day. You deserved this - it’s nice to see someone teaching you a lesson.”

“You two are pains in my rear every day!” Steve huffed as he grasped at Bucky’s shoulders and pushed.

“You did not just say that!” you gasped dramatically.

“Yeah, how dare you!” Bucky added, pinching at Steve’s side for emphasis.

“Bahah- Bucky, don’t start this,” Steve warned as he grasped his friend’s wrists to still his hands.

“Ooh! Wait!” You set your ice cream and spoon down on the counter beside you. “I want a go! Bucky, hold him there for a minute.”

“Whahat??” Steve laughed in surprise, a nervous edge to his voice.

“Sure!” Bucky offered, ignoring his friend’s protests as he maneuvered his wrists from Steve’s grasp and swiftly pinned his arms to the floor a few inches from his sides. “Quick, before he gets free!”

"On it!" You crouched down beside the super soldiers as Steve tugged against Bucky's grip. Without waiting to listen to Steve's protests any further, you began to scribble your fingertips into his exposed sides and ribs rapidly. You heard a thump behind you as Steve kicked his heel against the floor in protest, now pulling more frantically to escape his best friend's hold.

"HA-HEHEY! Cut it ohout!!"

"Nah. I deserve a little reward for tolerating you all day," you snickered, prodding at his belly. "Hey, Buck - where should I get him next?"

"Ohh, definitely under his arms," he suggested with a smirk. You pinched your way up his ribcage before slotting your hands into the narrow space between his biceps and his upper ribs. Bucky adjusted his grip to pry his friend's arms away from his sides as he attempted to clamp them down to limit the space under his arms.

"BUCKY!! Let me go-HO-HO this I-HI-INSTANT!" Steve demanded.

"No can do, buddy. I'm enjoying watching you get taken down a peg."

"DAHAMNIT BAHARNES!!"

"Oof, language Steve!" you teased, digging your fingers into the soft spot under his arms. "Where else is he ticklish?"

"The spot on his stomach right under his ribs - that'll really get him good." Steve nearly managed to slip his wrist from Bucky's grasp, but he quickly shifted his grip once again. "Better do it quick - I can't hold him much longer."

"Say no more." You pulled your hands free from under Steve's arms and danced your fingertips across the muscle-clad skin of his abdomen just under his ribcage as Bucky suggested. He threw his head back with a heavy stream of laughter at your touch, arching his back against the floor in desperation. It was only another moment before he finally succeeded in escaping Bucky's grasp.

Steve sat up swiftly, a playful but menacing gleam in his eye as his gaze immediately landed on you.

"Oh-ho, shit!" You scrambled to get to your feet to make your escape, groaning defeatedly when you felt a strong set of arms wrap around your waist and yank you backward.

“You really think I’d let you get away with that?” Steve asked rhetorically as he tightened his arms around your midsection to hold you in place.

“W-wait, Steve, we can- ahaha nohoho!” Your protests were cut short as Steve’s fingers kneaded into your sides. “Bucky! Hehehelp!!”

“Nuh-uh. You’re on your own, my friend.” The infuriatingly unhelpful super soldier waltzed over to the counter to retrieve his ice cream, planting himself atop the countertop and digging in while observing the two of you wrestling on the floor below.

“USELEHESS!!” you cried, attempting futilely to pry Steve’s hands off your sides.

“Nice try. You should know better than to mess with me by now,” Steve teased. He loosened his grip slightly to scratch at your belly. A rumbling laugh erupted in his chest when you screeched in protest and doubled over, suddenly much more frantic. “Oh, what’s this?”

“DAHAMNIT STE-HEE-HEVE!” Your grip on his hands was far too weak to even budge them now - not that you’d had any hope of succeeding before your muscles had weakened from his tickling. You leaned more heavily into him as you succumbed to laughter. He responded by lowering you down to lay on the floor beside him, freeing both hands to dart randomly around your sides and stomach. Weakly, you tapped your palm on the floor beside you in surrender. Steve threw in a few more exceedingly ticklish light scratches along your belly before relenting in his revenge.

“That’ll teach you,” he teased with a grin, offering you a hand to help you off the ground. You grasped your abdominal muscles that were now aching from laughter.

“I-hi… I’ll probably still mess with you,” you admitted breathlessly. Steve made a noise of protest in his throat and reached over to pinch your side, but you swatted his hand away. “Noho more! You’ll kill me!”

“So dramatic.” He rolled his eyes. “Here - here’s your ice cream. Hope it melted while you were tormenting me.”

“Harsh!” You snatched it from his hand and stuck out your tongue, then turned to look at Bucky. "And you - you were zero help, thank you."

"Hey! I held him down for you! I was very helpful, in my personal opinion."

The three of you went right back to your friendly bickering session, as though nothing had happened. Any outside might wonder how you could all be friends, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 6

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC A/N: I couldn't resist posting this so close to the other part. I'd say I'm sorry for the slight cliff hanger.... But I'm not. Also I've started writing some of the stuff around threshing, what do you guys think Ophelia's signet should be? What dragon will she have? Also what should we make Garrick's signet? I've seen a few theories on his being pain due to his dragons name, and honestly kinda leaning towards it. As per usual if you want to be on the tag list let me know! And if you guys have any prompts or ideas for small little one off stories/one shots, please pop them in my asks! Would love to give some other ideas a go. Probably leaning more towards our rebellion boys (Xaden, Garrick, Bodhi and Liam), but happy to give some others a go.

The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

Garrick leans against the wall at the end of the bed, his hazel eyes watching me like a hawk. He hadn’t take his eyes off me since scooping me off the floor. I’m a little disappointed he managed to put a shirt on before bringing me here. I could have used the view while the healer works at cleaning the blood off my face and mending my nose. Every time I flinch or wince as the healer works, I swear I see Garrick’s hand twitch as if wanting to reach out and stop her. The healer walks away to get me some healing balm to take with me to help the last of my nose heal and to help with any bruising that may decide to show up. As she rounds the corner, Garrick pushes off the wall and pulls up a chair next to my bed. He reaches up and tilts my head towards him with his right hand. His eyes assessing my face and the work the healer has done. When he’s satisfied I’ve been healed adequately his eyes meet mine. His hand still lingering on my face.

”You two really did a number on each other.” He says with a chuckle.

”You finally going to tell me what the hell is up with you and Imogen.” I say more aggressively that I intend.

Garrick flinches at my words and his moves his hand from my cheek to his lap as he looks down and starts to fidget with this hands. Some of his dark curls falling in front of his eyes. Definitely not the response he was expecting from me.

“I promise you there is nothing going on-”

”Bullshit.” I spit out cutting him off mid sentence.

He looks up at me shocked and almost scared. Something I can safely say I’ve never seen from Garrick towards me. Granted I don’t think I’ve used that kind of tone towards him before in the entire time I’ve known Garrick, which is pretty much my entire life. He hangs his head and goes back to fidgeting with his hands, the chair creaking under his weight as he moves around. Clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

“For me there’s nothing going on with her. We hooked up a few times, but that was it.” He admits, his shoulders sagging with the confession before looking back up at me with sad eyes that almost plead forgiveness from me. “But I made it clear I wanted nothing serious. But it is becoming clear those hook ups meant more to her than just something casual.”

”You never struck me as the casual hook up type.” I admit to him.

He slowly nods in agreement before looking away again, intently focused on his hands again. “Honestly I’m not. But there are times while you are here where you just need someone. And the person I needed. The person I wanted more than just a casual hook up with.” His eyes flick up to mine, and I swear my heart stops as if I know what’s coming. “Well I kind of thought they were dead till recently.”

His words come out so quietly I barely hear them. But I do. My heart rate starts to pick up as his words sink in and silence falls around us as we just stare into each others eyes. There is no doubt that Garrick meant me. It’s not like anyone else has come back from the dead recently. Garrick who I spent most of my child hood and teenage years crushing over, has just confessed they feel the same way and all I can do is sit here and stare at him like a deer about to get torched by a dragon. And I’m sure my face probably looks similar to that deer right now. His words start to sink in as he stares at me hopefully. His eyes pleading at me to say something. Say anything back to him. But I can’t. All I can do is stare at him in shock, despite wanting to hear this exact confession from him for years.

At that moment the healer comes back with the healing balm, completely oblivious to the tension in the small closed off area. “Here you go lovely, just apply it to any bruising as it appears.” She says sweetly as she hands it to me.

I tear my gaze from Garrick as I stand and take the healing balm from her, before quickly walking out of the room. I hear the chair Garrick was sitting on scrape against the floor. As soon as I’m out the door I take off. I vaguely hear Garrick call my name as I run back to the riders quadrant.

Part 7

Tag List: @riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99

[dk-wren]

Week 2 - 30 Days of Buddy Daddies

Welcome back! This week was a lot more hectic, but I somehow managed to find time to respond to the next seven prompts. Hope you enjoy reading through my responses!

Day 8: Funniest Scene

I have these screenshots from a previous post just saved onto my computer. I really did not have a specific reason as to why I saved them after finishing that post, but glad to see they came in use again.

Overall, I think the zoo episode is the one that made me laugh out loud the most. This moment in particular just caught me so off guard the first time I watched the episode because of how serious Kazuki's tone is when he says it. Like yes, "Love is Blind" and Kazuki is example A.

It definitely took me a second to register what he was saying, and also that it was part of the script given Rei's response rather than a wonky translation, which then made me instantly die again. This man loves his family with his full heart, and this is one of the comedic ways that he showed it.

Day 9: Scene that Caused You Anguish

The Ferris wheel scene.

That's it. That's my response.

Okay, not really, but ahhh this scene! Even if Kazuki and Rei believe they didn't change, I feel the whole conversation they have while riding the Ferris wheel disproves that.

While their points and conversation is underlined by the feeling that they are not adequate or can safely take care of Miri, now with the organization on to them, everything they have done to provide for Miri's well-being and to allow her to have a happy childhood in that previous year proves they did change.

It made me so sad to see them defeated and feeling like this was their only option. Also, seeing Rei for what may possibly be the first time stick up for this family and not wanting to let it go adds to why I'm choosing this scene. Plus, seeing how this yearning to hold onto their little family explodes over the last few episodes adds to my anguish over this scene serving as the breaking point for the trio (until they all reunite in ep. 11 after some more anguish). The dialogue, the music, the solitude created by being in one of the ride vehicles as well as the lighting decided it was going for the kill in terms of what would leave me an emotional wreck.

Day 10: Favorite Part of the Opening

Just gonna leave the whole opening here and timestamp a few of my favorite parts since 1) it’s a bop and 2) I love love love the opening.

0:22 = I’ve always loved this little section of Rei and Kazuki holding a giant photo frame with Miri, Miss Anna, and her friends from daycare walking behind it. I've never really thought of why I liked it so much though. One possibility is this is the first time (in the opening) we see the three of them together, in their casual clothes. With Rei and Kazuki holding the photo frame while Miri and the people she's close to at daycare in the background, laughing and visibly happy, I feel like this might symbolize the "slice of life" aspect of this show. These frames show the viewer a snapshot into their life, which for the most part, revolves around Miri, Kazuki, and Rei's daily life, which doesn't always mean having an assignment. I've also always loved taking pictures to keep as memories, so the associations of a picture frame and wanting to capture their happy little family could be another reason why I love this part of the opening so much.

0:37 = Really I'm just a sucker for this transition between Rei riding his motorcycle (which there should have been more of) and Ogino. Thinking about it now, perhaps another reason I loved this part of the opening was due to the foreshadowing of Ogino following and watching Rei (and by association Kazuki and Miri).

1:11 = Another transition I really liked, but I feel the reason I liked this one is due to the symbolism behind it. In seeing the back of Kazuki and transition to Yuzuko in the hydrangea field, it seems to convey the idea that Yuzuko will always be with him or in his heart. Despite his fears, this part of the opening seems to suggest that Kazuki will not forget about Yuzuko, even if he changes or moves on with his life. And while she is facing away from the viewer, so we cannot see her facial expressions, I feel there is a tenderness or bittersweetness in seeing her at the hydrangea field where she and Kazuki first met, rather than on a city street, which has dominated a fair bit of the opening.

Also, gotta love when the three run across the title-card with Dorothy, Carol, and some hitmen running after them, as well as the three of them in front of the Ferris wheel at the end of the opening.

Day 11: Favorite Part of the Ending

First things first, Miri looks so adorable in all the outfits she wears in the ending. For this first, low-quality screenshot, I just loved how whoever dressed Miri (my guess is Kazuki but idk) made sure the color palette matched the flowers around her.

Beach day! Honestly, what's not to love about this part of the ending? Kazuki and Rei being dorks in the background, Miri with her big sunglasses and hat, and the family going on a fun outing together.

This is technically the only time Miri is shown wearing a kimono in the anime, so yeah, I'm obsessed. I've seen the handful of illustrations Lily has shared on Twitter, with the whole family wearing kimonos, and those are some of my favorites. I don't even know how long ago this was, but as someone pointed out before, also love how the fishes seem to represent Kazuki, Rei, and Miri. Can't say for sure, but I think I can reasonably assume this might be from a family visit to an Obon or Hanamatsuri like festival. Since I have fond memories of going to these festivals (and also sometimes winning a fish or two at the carnival games), this is probably the reason why I love this part of the ending.

Just THEM!!! Love how Miri is holding both Papa Rei and Papa Kazuki's hand and will always love the ending illustration of the family taking a midday nap altogether on the couch.

Day 12: Favorite Quote/Phrase Said in the Anime

I'm gonna share two since in a way they are connected (also I'm taking the quotes from the subtitles, so apologies if they are not exact)

"'Papa' is the person who saves you when you're in trouble" (Miri, ep. 3)

"We have to protect her. Think. What can we do to help Miri?...We can change. This time, we'll make Miri happy" (Rei, ep. 11)

The second quote to me is one of the pinnacle moments showcasing Rei's growth throughout the series. I loved how in this moment, the roles were reversed and Rei is the one who needs to convince Kazuki that they can be a family together. He is finally expressing all his emotions that perhaps he had been suppressing inside of him or perhaps didn't know how to express until this moment. By this point in the episode, Rei had essentially turned his back on this father/boss, who sadly and in a very twisted way, was the only family he had known before Kazuki and Miri came into his life. But, Rei has a new family now and I love that he's gonna stop at nothing from having it be broken apart.

The first quote by Miri all the way back in episode 3 could be the motto of this show since Kazuki and Rei stop at almost nothing from protecting Miri and looking after her well-being. I also loved how this was Miri's response to Rei asking her why she calls Kazuki "Papa" when they had only known each other for no more than a month. It doesn't matter to Miri who is related to her by blood, only that they are there to "save" and love her.

Day 13: Favorite Fanfics

Here are two of my favorite Buddy Daddies fics! There are a few others I’ve read and really liked, but I unfortunately could not recall their titles (to leave a link to here on this post) or they were shared on a post which is now buried in my “likes.”

Day 14: Favorite Artists

First things first, I want to give a huge round of applause to all the artists who have created art for this anime. I am not an artist so all your pieces and ideas blow me away. The talent here is literally insane and I've really enjoyed looking at all your pieces!

Want to give a shout-out though to polimollykart, splenderai, wrendraws, zsdopaminecave, queerblueberry, rialen-art, and theunfairmaiden as some of my favorite artists.

.

.

.

Thank you again for reading my responses for Week 2 of the 30 Days of Buddy Daddies tag!

If you are one of the artist I listed and would like to be tagged, please let me know! I'd love to, but just didn't want to randomly @ people.

See you again in a week!

-Dakota Wren

[greywolfheirs]

Send me Malkolai prompts!

@scorpiomindfuck Hi yes hello, I apologize for the delay and for the fact that this is 2k unbeta'd words I whipped up in an evening. I've been dying to write but life has been hectic. Anyway, I loved your prompt and I hope you like what I did with it. I love YOU forever for the prompt <3 (to my other prompters...I'm working on it)

***

It was an odd decision, Mal thought, for he and Alina to realize their feelings were simply love towards a friend nearly immediately after an adrenaline and power-filled kiss post-hunt. In the end, though, they both (awkwardly) admitted hoping for someone else to kiss in that moment. The difficult thing for Mal was that his desire was for one of the witnesses of that kiss. At least Alina’s crush wouldn’t be confused with sudden flirting.

Not to say that Sturmhond was showing any sign of confusion—the captain took it in stride. The problem was, he seemed to interpret it as their regular banter. Or was their regular banter just flirting all along? Mal dismissed that idea. Sturmhond had refused to learn Mal’s name when they’d started bantering—no way his new approval was flirting—he just considered them friends. Which, they were, except that Mal suddenly had an increasing desire to kiss his friend, which was getting harder to ignore by the second.

Now, as Mal watched the captain order the Hummingbird around, he couldn’t help but linger on the way his golden locks shimmered in the air, or how dashing they looked being rustled by the squaller’s wind.

“You should go talk to him.” Mal startled at Alina’s sudden appearance at his side. Yes he knew where she was at all times, but it got a little fuzzy at close distance. He certainly hadn’t been distracted.

“And say what?” Mal asked, feigning calm. “He doesn’t need a compliment. His ego’s already too big.”

“Perhaps a compliment from you would be different.”

Mal gave her an incredulous look but Alina simply shrugged. Well, that and she nudged him slightly closer to the approaching captain. Oh, Saints, the captain was approaching.

“I’ve just been informed that the Fold is nearing,” Sturmhond announced. He looked over his shoulder at the ever increasing darkness. “As I’m sure you can see. Destiny is in sight.”

He said that last part with a nod to Alina, who nodded back and said, “I’d better prepare.”

Before either man could respond, she began to walk to the other end of the Hummingbird. Mal knew she had nothing to prepare, but he couldn’t show his frustrations without revealing why he was frustrated.

“I wasn’t aware she needed practice,” Sturmhond mused.

“Well, she probably has to get used to the new extra power…or something.”

Stormhund hummed. “Suppose that leaves you and I to make our own preparations.”

“Which are…?”

Grinning as widely as ever, Stormhund pulled out a flask. Mal desperately hoped his slightly darker skin tone hid the blush at the ensuing wink. Still, he managed to shoot back a grin of his own and shake his head.

“Are you sure you don’t want a clear head entering the Fold?” he asked.

“I’m sure that I’ll need some liquid courage to get through this encounter,” Sturmhond said breezily. He knocked back a drink before offering it to Mal. “I’m also sure my already courageous friend doesn’t need more but it can’t hurt can it?”

Mal hesitated only for a second before taking the flask from him. Before taking his own sip, he shot back, “Your friend needs all the help he can get.” He nearly choked on his sip, throat burning all the way down. “Saints, what do you have in there?”

Sturmhond laughed. “You think I’d drink anything less than the best? You truly don’t know me, Malyen Oretsev.”

Mal handed back the flask before casually yet carefully asking, “And what if I’d like to?”

Sturmhond paused, both their hands still brushing. “Get to know me?” he swallowed in an uncharacteristically unsure manner. “I’m not sure you’d like what you find.”

“Can’t hurt to try, right?” Mal asked. He hoped he wasn’t imagining the smile curling on Sturmhond’s lips.

Before he could respond fully, there was a shout from Tamar. The fold was upon them.

One crash later, and Mal was watching Alina throw a punch at Prince Nikolai Lantsov, formerly known as Captain Sturmhond. Honestly, he was surprised it wasn’t his own punch. This pirate—privateer—had simply been an illusion. All this time he’d been a prince playacting like a child. The only reason Alina had gotten to him first was because Mall had too many warring emotions in his head swirling around fast enough to make him feel sick.

He’d been flirting with a prince of Ravka.

Mal processed all of this silently as Alina negotiated her way out of her own anger by talking to the prince. Angry as they both were, they did still need an audience with the king, and what better way to get there than through his son? Wrapped up in these thoughts as he was, Mal didn’t notice the negotiations end as Alina rode ahead.

“I did warn you,” Sturmhond—no, Nikolai—said suddenly.

Mal kept his expression and tone neutral as he replied, “That you were a prince?”

“That you may not like me once you get to know me,” Nikolai corrected.

“Apparently, everything I have known is a lie,” Mal said icily. “So, really, I don’t know you at all.”

“Sturmhond wasn’t a lie,” Nikolai countered. “He was a dream of what could be.”

“Lies we tell ourselves are still lies,” Mal shot back.

Nikolai sighed. “Look, I don’t intend any harm to come to either of you. You can trust me as much as you trusted Sturmhond.”

Mal finally turned to face Nikolai as he replied, “I never fully trusted Sturmhond. He seemed like he was hiding something.”

Mal sometimes hated how his life had turned out. True, he wouldn’t trade his friendship with Alina for anything, but honestly did it have to be one crisis after another? Soon after their arrival to the palace, Nikolai announced the darkling’s return, and Mal wished that were weighing on his mind more than the discussion that happened after. Mal’s best friend being proposed to—even politically—by his…by Nikolai? It just wasn’t fair, his lot in life.

“Marriage!” Alina scoffed after Nikolai left. “Like I’m just some pawn.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t break his nose,” Mal managed to joke. It went poorly.

“I’m surprised you didn’t!” Alina exclaimed. “I don’t understand how you seem to be taking this better than I am, when—”

“When what?” Mal scoffed. “Just because I fell for a mask doesn’t mean I like the face underneath.”

Alina gave him a look. “And what if Prince Nikolai is the real mask?”

Mal shook his head. “Still doesn’t matter. He’s a prince, I’m an orphan, and we’ve got worse things to worry about.”

“Mal,” Alina insisted. “This won’t be our lives forever. And even if it is, promise me you’ll try to find happiness for yourself.”

“I’ve found it,” Mal said, taking Alina’s hand and swinging it gently. “You’re my best friend, and that makes me happy.”

But Alina wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Then promise me you’ll find more.”

Mal sighed. “I promise.”

Later that night, Mal was in his new quarters, stewing. He’d stayed to watch the engagement announcement but excused himself immediately after. Admitting why he was frustrated just made Mal angrier. He’d somehow placed his happiness in a prince of Ravka and the impossible dream that maybe this could all be over eventually. Mal wasn’t sure which one was more ridiculous, yet here he was stuck trying to keep an impossible promise.

Taking a deep breath, and forcing a mask of calm so he could return to the festivities, Mal walked over to the door—only to find Nikolai Lantsov, his hand raised to knock.

“Oh, er, hi,” the prince laughed, his dashing smile on full display as Mal stepped aside to let him in. “Alina said you might be here.”

“Shouldn’t you be out there doing whatever it is princes do?” Mal asked, genuinely confused.

“Yes, well, part of that is strengthening alliances,” Nikolai said. He cleared his throat and sat down in a chair. “And ensuring those alliances…still exist.”

“Nervousness is not something I expected of you,” Mal said with a badly suppressed grin. Instead of sitting down, he crossed his arms.

Nikolai huffed. “Mal, please, I just wanted to talk to you. I’m truly sorry for lying to you, but it was for—”

“The people you love, yeah Alina told me,” Mal agreed.

“Then you also know that I truly want to have an alliance,” Nikolai pressed. “More than that, though. I want to get to know you, Mal.”

Mal sucked in a surprised breath at that. Here was Prince Nikolai practically begging to be friends with an orphan. Promise me you’ll find happiness for yourself.

Mal let out his breath and began speaking before he really knew what he was going to say. “I haven’t really had the happiest life. Sure, Alina was almost always there for me, and I can’t say there haven’t been some truly incredible things I’ve experienced. Overall, though? Could be a lot better.”

Nikolai was enraptured, but Mal felt like he needed to sit down. The weight of his next words were like a physical presence.

“Being at sea was the happiest I’ve ever been. I never knew life could be so rich yet full of peace at the same time. Part of that was the sea itself. Another part was the crew. But the biggest part was Captain Sturmhond. I’ve never been more jealous of a man in my life. Not only leading the life he lived, but doing it with more charisma than I could ever imagine. At least I thought it was jealousy. After the Sea Whip, I realized what it was. I was falling for Sturmhond.”

Nikolai blinked and sat up straighter at that, but Mal put a hand up. He wasn’t finished.

“The thought of being with a man like him—living that life together—that made me feel excitement like no other. But just when I started to think it could happen, Prince Nikolai pulled the plug on that hope. It’s not that I hate you. I don’t think I can even be angry at you. I just can’t look at you without seeing everything that I’ll never have again.”

“I didn’t realize,” Nikolai said, standing with sudden emotion. “Alina—?”

“Is a friend,” Mal answered. “We realized it pretty quickly after the Sea Whip.”

“Then, Mal,” Nikolai began, stepping cautiously towards Mal. He didn’t back away. “You should know how much I wish Sturmhond could be who I truly am. I love Ravka, yes, but the freedom I had on that ship was like no other. If I didn’t feel an obligation to help my country, I wouldn’t have sought out the Sun Summoner. If I’d known what she and her friend were really like I’d never have done what I’d done. But by the time I knew that, it was too late.”

Nikolai reached out to take Mal’s hand. For his part, Mal couldn’t speak what with his heart in his throat as it was.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, Mal. You have to know that your feelings were returned. Are returned, if they still exist. I know my station may prove difficult for a relationship, but I’d like to try. Alina may be my fiancé but I need you to know that it’s you who has my heart.”

Promise me you’ll find happiness for yourself. “You talk to much,” Mal whispered around his heart.

Nikolai’s returning nervous grin was still just as dashing. “Speak for yourself.”

Except Mal couldn’t because his mouth was busy pressing itself against Nikolai’s. He should have known a prince’s lips would be soft, but Mal wasn’t used to palace life. He would make sure to never get used to it, if it meant he felt this way all the time. Nikolai’s lips against his lit a fire in Mal that contrasted the peace of Sturmhond’s sea, yet gave him the same excitement. The same peace. The same hope.

When they pulled apart to breath, Mal lost himself in the blue of Nikolai’s eyes. That is, until the prick spoke.

“Seriously, that was the most I’ve ever heard you speak,” he teased.

“Shut up and kiss me again,” Mal breathed. He surged forward before Nikolai could reply, but that was alright. He felt like there would be more opportunities in the future.  

[autisticbee]

Just saw your newest posts about Dan Vs so would you mind sharing those I need my daily dose

Of Dan Vs thoughts? Sure. Here's some random thoughts & hcs. got a little long oops (I can't remember how to do read more on mobile...)

- Mr. Mumbles is immortal. why? Who knows, but it's a silly cartoon so I get to hc the cute kitty as immortal, alright?

- I've seen ppl joke about dan vs """cancel culture""" but the thing is, I think he'd be all for it. I think he'd find it funny. I mean the dude has his own version of a call out list.

- Dan has hypermobility (1. He mentioned having a double jointed thumb 2. I have hypermobility and I say so)

- Chris is pansexual but doesn't realize it until later in life, he honestly had just not thought about it too hard & had only had a few relationships prior to getting married kinda young, all with women, until something leads to him realizing his feelings for Dan are not entirely platonic & it's just like. Oh.

- Dan on the other hand is pretty openly bisexual, he has a preference for men(projecting 🤪) but has (... slightly) better luck with women (men are more likely to want to kill him)

- something, that's not a life or death situation that gets magically reset, prompts Elise to tell Chris the truth about her job. because I hate the fucking person can't tell their partner they're a spy/agent/superhero/what the fuck ever trope it Feels Bad Scoob and Chris has expressed sometimes feeling a lack of communication between them in the show which ):

- speaking of Elise finds out Chris is part bear but in like the most casual way possible

Elise: I'm thinking of making Chris see a doctor, he gets sluggish and strangely irritable during winter months which makes me wonder if he might have seasonal depression.

Dan: nah, that's just the bear part of his DNA

Elise: the. the what.

- Dan and Elise both have C-PTSD (I don't think I have to explain why Dan does, Elise's is from basically being trained as a child soldier & just that she's likely experienced many traumatic things during her job), Elise copes with it mildly better than Dan but she's mostly just better at putting up a front of normality

- also Dan is obviously autistic. he's undiagnosed and doesn't realize until he's in his 20s or 30s. The discovery of noise cancelling headphones make his life a little bit easier

- Chris is also neurodivergent in some way but I haven't narrowed down the flavor yet 😭

- Dan is a trans man this is fact in my head I won't accept anything else, I have like tried to work out timelines and shit just to make it all fit within canon(yes I know most ppl just go screw canon but I just like making things work within it, I'm weird like that). I can't decide if he's had top surgery(post-job at the chicken place, hence the funny note about it) or he just naturally had a small chest and testeorone "masculinized"(for lack of a better word) it somewhat (cause I did prior to going on multiple medications that I could sometimes pass as having a flat chest). He doesn't want bottom surgery cause he doesn't see the point (slightly nsfw: "until they can give me synthetic semen and a prostate I'm not interested"). again mostly projecting there lmao

EDIT: in case this wasn't clear, I mean he sees no point in it for himself, not that he thinks nobody should have bottom surgery

- Dan is a closeted romantic. This is hinted at in canon imo, the thing with the anger management lady is clearly a metaphor for wanting more than a fling. Dan seems to take his romantic attraction to people very seriously, like with Hortence despite not interacting with her much. also his face when Honey kissed him. he's just secretly a big sap who wants to be loved

- Dan is a catboy in spirit. I say in spirit because he has no idea what a catboy is but he's just sooo kitty cat coded. knocks things off tables when annoyed. plays with toilet paper. claws and bites. I hc he meows as a stim with Mr. Mumbles sometimes. Also he hisses at people.

- I know what Chris said in the family cruise ep but I like to think Chris does actually think of Dan as family, mayhaps the holding out the hand scene was a acceptance or realisation of that, maybe that's what the thing he was going to say but forgot towards the end was. this isn't even really a buddyshipping thing it's just that me personally if my best friend didn't consider me family I'd want to jump off a cliff(/j) so I can't handle the thought (seriously though what was Chris going to say. It haunts me.)

- I'll end this on a fuzzy feelings self indulgent headcanon. Dan, Chris and Elise(+ Mr. Mumbles) become a weird little family of ther own. Dan and Elise are like frenemies, who share the same partner, but also deep down they care for each other. platonic love/hate relationship <3

[illicien]

“Nobody asked about my writing” meme

Ohhh thank you so much for the tag @amethyst-noir! Having read these questions already I can tell this is going to become a pain in the ass to answer, bless you and thank you for the suffering.

 1: what are you currently working on? 

Far too many things. My writing tab currently has open:

One-Time Thing (third part in progress, but I have all of the parts in the same doc)

HS / Mafia AU Outline (when this starts becoming a thing more effectively I hope every single one of you is ready for me to be the most whiny bitch on the timeline; when my wife said "oh that sounds like it'll be 300k" I was like lol I've never written anything that long! But this outline... this fucking outline...)

Captured (inspired by a whump prompt, whether this comes into existence is entirely dependent upon the whims of my muse and they are feeling incredibly tempestuous of late.)

Seeing Double (This remains my comfort fic to sit back in because writing Stephen occasionally manages to help reset my brain when I get stuck.)

WB Hanahaki (I completely blame a combination of @winterbonesthings @six-demon-bag and @bicycleonfire for the fact that this even started to happen.)

To The Victors (This is literally the fic I've had open and been casually poking at now and then since before I even started OTT and whether it will be finished is also dependent upon the whims of my muse.)

And that's all WinterBaron shit I just have that I'm casually flicking through depending on what is best meeting my interests at any given hour of the day.

2: summarize your current project 

Which one? I'm literally gonna randomize 1-6 and find out which project we're summarizing.

Well okay then. Seeing Double it is:

With the sudden splitting of timelines and opening of the multiverse, some of HYDRA's experiments in other worlds have created strange pathways to other worlds; while HYDRA has been mostly dealt with in their active timeline, the elimination of a specific base has left Sam, Bucky, and Zemo faced with an actively Winter Soldiered Bucky Barnes. Not quite sure how to handle their new situation, and mildly unnerved by the fact that this Winter Soldier has decided that obeying Zemo of all people is the best choice, Sam suggests taking him to Doctor Strange - because if anyone's going to be able to figure out sending him back to his own dimension, a sorcerer seems like the best option.

3: summarize your current project poorly 

(Same project? Different project? Different project.)

Zemo's fucking pissed to realize that he's in love with someone again; he'd ignore it, if it wasn't literally killing him.

4: describe your favorite character or characters

Tea sluts.

Oh, did you want a better description? Well you aren't getting one. They're tea sluts. You think they're perfectly put together, incredibly in control, and that's exactly what they like you to think as they casually sip their tea and pretend they're only the most sophisticated of people.

But it takes about two seconds to turn them from sophisticated and in control into whining little bitches. And I love that for them.

5: post a line from your current project without any context 

They'd taken time to collect - the remnants of Ultron scattered in a distinctive display, pieces welded together in a manner both grotesque and hauntingly beautiful.

6: how do you get through writers block?

Skip to a different project for a little bit. Sometimes it's less that I'm blocked in terms of writing, and more that I'm stuck on a specific scene or story, and moving on until I'm stuck on something else makes it easier for me to return to whatever I was initially stuck on.

7: would you want to live in the world of your current work? 

No. Not any of them. No thank you. Especially not anything MCU adjacent. I'll skip on that, thanks.

8: briefly discuss your outlining process, if you outline 

My outlining process only really exists for fics that I am well aware / intend to be more than one chapter. For example, there was no real outline for OTT, and it did get away from me because of that, in part. That's why OTT turned into a series rather than just being multichapter.

When I do outline, however, I have a very specific set-up that involves first jotting down several notes from my brainstorming session as I typically bounce the initial concept off of someone. Many bullet points exist. From there, it's a matter of grouping them into relevant areas, and then breaking things down into chapters from that point. I'll occasionally make specific notes about particular dialogue pieces as related to specific bullet points. Before I do a final dive into starting to write pieces, I'll go over chapter bulletpoints again to see if there are any specific things that could use to be arranged elsewhere.

If I write without an outline for a multichapter story, we get chaos like Collared and Embraced which are both currently still sitting unfinished, despite my best efforts.

9: what is the aesthetic of your current project?

Okay so I'm gonna return to To The Victors for this one, even though I mentioned it once already earlier, because of all of them this one has a very visual set up.

Piercing suspension; human food trays; an old castle hall draped with purple silk and velvet; the contrast of highly mechanical chrome bits and pieces against elegant fabrics and stone walls

10: what song sums up your current work the best?

Ooo this is hard, especially since I decided to save this one specifically for the OTT finale...

We'll go with:

Tagging

Sending this one over to @six-demon-bag @winterbonesthings and @winterytrash cuz I'm sure y'all are working on something at least. @bicycleonfire too if you've got anything ongoing you wanna share 😉

[wowbright]

Fic: Mismatch

Klaine Spring Fling: insidious

Words: ~2100 words

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: Blaine wonders out loud if Kurt wishes he could go on a date with another guy.

This is part of my Mormon!Klaine universe. It takes place after Distractions, on the same evening.

My Mormon!Klaine Masterpost. (More recent posts are in bold.)

––––

“You never cease to surprise me,” said Blaine as they arrived back at the apartment from English group. “Accepting concert tickets from Chandler Kiehl. So …” He searched for the perfect word, but couldn’t land on it. Well, the closest approximation of what he meant would have to do. “Unorthodox.”

“It's not a big deal,” said Elder Hummel. “We’re allowed to accept gifts from investigators within reason. And it's classical music, which classifies it as a cultural event. I'm sure President Steele will be fine with us attending.”

“Yeah, but we just did Georgiritt on Easter Monday. Wasn’t that a cultural event, too? And we only get one a month.”

“That was April. The concert’s in May.”

Blaine went over to the bookshelf and began putting away the Books of Mormon and pamphlets they hadn’t managed to place with new investigators. “Right. And I agree with you that President Steele will probably be fine with it. I’m just surprised you are. You always struck me as a bit to the right of President Steele when it came to rules.”

“It’s church, not politics.” Elder Hummel sat on the loveseat to unlace his shoes.

"Fair enough.” Blaine tucked his English-teaching resource book into its place on the shelf.  The group had gone well. Chandler had stayed, and Dolcezza and Harmonie showed up, and Samir and Nuriya stopped by for the second half. The conversation was so dynamic, Blaine had been able to set aside a thought that had begun niggling at him since Chandler's confession. But now, as he was winding down from the bike ride, it started up again, like fallen hair tickling the back of his neck.

“So,” Blaine started, glancing over to make sure Elder Hummel wasn't looking at him, and then carefully turning to face the bookshelf so the words would sound casual and spontaneous and, maybe, almost inconsequential. “You didn't seem too surprised when Chandler mentioned wanting to take you out on a date.”

“Are you surprised?” Elder Hummel slipped off his shoes and set them on the low rack next to the front door.

“That he's interested in dating you? No. But that he actually went out and bought concert tickets? Yes.”

“Well,” said Elder Hummel, disappearing around the corner into the bathroom, “He sort of mentioned it on Sunday. You know, when we were at the park.”

Blaine heard the creak of a pipe, followed by water flowing out of the bathroom faucet. He knew Elder Hummel wouldn't be able to hear anything he said over the running water. He wondered if this was Elder Hummel’s way of attempting to end the conversation.

Blaine looked inside his bag one last time to make sure no stray bits of literature were floating around in there. He lifted it onto his shoulder and walked to the bathroom door, leaning against the door frame to watch Elder Hummel splash his face three times before turning off the water. “He asked you out on Sunday?”

“Not exactly.” Elder Hummel grabbed his hand towel from his assigned hook and began patting himself dry.

“And you said—?”

“No, of course.”

“You could've told me, you know.”

“It didn't seem that important.”

“But it is important, right? How often do you get asked out by a guy who's super hot in gym shorts?”

“That's so superficial.” Elder Hummel replaced his towel on the hook. “Anyway, since I'm not going, why does it matter?”

Blaine looked down at the floor. He wasn't sure if he should say it. He wasn't even sure if he meant it. But he had the same feeling that he got when he felt prompted to go off script in a discussion with a challenging investigator. It was like the Holy Ghost was right at his shoulder, whispering into his ear what he should say. “If you want to go out with him, you can.”

For the first time since they had gotten home, Elder Hummel looked Blaine directly in the eye. “Don't be ridiculous. It's against the rules.” He walked past Blaine and out into the hallway.

Blaine followed him. “I know, but— If you want to, you can break the rules. I don't have to go to the concert with you. I mean, I'd like to, but— It was Chandler's idea. And he's the one who paid for them. And I'm sure you think I'll go to hell for suggesting this—”

“There is no hell.” Elder Hummel was standing in front of the bedroom mirror, aggressively removing his necktie.

“—but I'll cover for you. If you want to go out with Chandler. Because … Because you're important to me and I want you to be happy.”

“The church makes me happy.”

“I know, I just—”

Elder Hummel spun around. He glared at Blaine for a nanosecond before walking over to the dresser and folding his tie into a compact bundle and setting it away in its drawer. “And for the millionth time, Chandler doesn't. Not just because it's wrong and it breaks the mission rules, but because it's Chandler, OK? He’s nice. Sometimes he's even funny. And yes, I did flirt with him, but that's because I was being an idiot. Really, really, truly, I do not have any romantic interest in Chandler Kiehl. And it's very confusing to me that you went from hating him to wanting him to be my boyfriend.”

“I don’t want … It's just, you said he wasn't that stupid to think you might want to go on a date with him. So I thought—"

“It wasn’t stupid because we’re friends, and I like him as a friend, and sometimes people wish that their friends were interested in them as more than friends. But just because a person wishes for something with a friend doesn't mean their friend will feel the same way back. And that’s okay. It’s okay to have feelings that aren't reciprocated. It doesn't make you stupid. It just makes you human.”

Blaine's head spun. “Wait. I’m confused. Whose feelings in this scenario are unreciprocated?”

“Oh, for crying out loud. Chandler’s.” Elder Hummel slammed the drawer shut, the sound of wood-on-wood banging in time with Chandler’s name. “Not that it matters. I'm gay and I'm on a mission and I don't date. It's not like I didn't know what the rules were coming into this.”

“Right. But you didn't know what the rules were when you were born into the church, either.”

“Says the guy who thinks everything was already decided in the pre-existence.”

It seemed unfair for Elder Hummel to bring up their diverging beliefs about the pre-existence, but Blaine couldn’t put his finger on exactly why.“I never said that. I just said— I just said I knew you and I promised to look for you.”

Elder Hummel rolled his eyes and huffed. Blaine felt a twinge in his side. “And if that’s true, then what my seminary teacher said is true: We chose all the important people we would have in our lives. We chose our parents because we wanted to be born into the covenant. We wanted to grow up in righteousness.” He grabbed his pajamas out of the bottom drawer and headed back toward the bathroom.

“Maybe we chose our parents. Maybe not. But it’s not like we knew in the pre-existence who would become a Mormon and who wouldn't. I mean, that's the whole point of leaving the preexistence to get a physical body. So you can make your own choices, free of the influence of—" Blaine wasn't sure how to finish that sentence. They were back in the bathroom. Elder Hummel was facing the mirror, undoing the top buttons of his shirt.

“Can I maybe take my shower now?” Elder Hummel said, meeting Blaine’s eyes in the mirror. “By myself?”

* * *

Blaine wasn’t in the mood for a shower. Or for changing his clothes. Or for anything.

He hated when Elder Hummel got mad at him. It made him feel so small.

But unless he was going to sit on the loveseat and mope, or go over to Dani’s and bribe Stürmchen into cuddling with him, there was nothing to do but get ready for bed.

He changed out of his clothes and put a clean set of garments on. It was warm outside, and he would have been perfectly happy to go to sleep in just his underwear. But they still needed to pray together, so Blaine put on a pair of pajamas—the same pair he had worn his first night in Ingolstadt, navy with white piping around the edges.

He could still remember maybe the look on Elder Hummel’s face when he came into the bedroom that night and saw that their PJs were almost an exact match. His expression had been one of absolute delight.

Blaine had thought, back then, that they would be two peas in a pod. But they weren’t, were they? Blaine loved Elder Hummel with all his heart, but they weren’t the same.  They saw things so differently. Sometimes, those differences fit neatly together, like water in a cup. One was loose and flowing, the other hard and immutable. And yet, when they came together, they took on the same shape. They belonged together.

Other times, though, the edges didn’t match up, no matter how hard Blaine tried.

Blaine sat on his bed and opened his scriptures to a random section, closing his eyes and resting his finger on the page, the way his mother had taught him to when he needed guidance. When he opened his eyes, he found himself in the fourth chapter of Ecclesiastes. Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour.For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.Again, if two lie together, then they have heat: but how can one be warm alone?

The passage said nothing about fitting. It said nothing about ease. But still, it was better to share your life with someone else, to care for each other in any way you could. It was always good to love. Even if, right in this moment, it hurt.

Maybe the reason it hurt wasn’t the love part. Maybe it was Blaine—always trying to fix things, always wanting peace, never wanting disagreements to come between them. Maybe not wanting it to hurt was what made it hurt in the first place. Maybe Blaine was caught in an insidious cycle of fear leading to more fear.

But the scripture said two are better than one not because it kept anyone from falling; but because, if one or both of them fell, they could help each other up. If one or both of them was overwhelmed by the coldness of the world, they could make each other warm.

* * *

“I’m sorry,” Elder Hummel said when he came into the bedroom. His hair was wet. His pajamas were unbleached linen. “I was short with you. I know you’re just trying to help.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Blaine said. “Maybe I try to help too much?”

Elder Hummel sat down on the edge of Blaine’s bed. “Sometimes.”

"You know I love you, right?”

“I know.” Elder Hummel sighed, as if that knowledge was a burden.

“Do you not want me to?”

Elder Hummel shook his head. “No. It's not that. It's just— Sometimes it hurts. I guess because I'm used to being on my own? Watching out for myself, you know? It's hard to explain.”

“You don't have to," Blaine said.

“I don’t know. I always thought I was a pretty self-confident person. I never thought I had any trouble seeing my own value. But it feels sometimes like you care more about me than I do. And I don't know what to do with that.”

Blaine reached for Elder Hummel’s hand. The ends of their sleeves touched, Blaine’s with its bright white piping, and Elder Hummel’s with its flaxen earthiness. The tones didn’t match, but they were pleasing together, all the same. “You don't have to do anything with that. I don't want to make you upset. I just want to be your friend. To lift you up, when I can. That's all.”

Elder Hummel gave Blaine a shy, sad smile. He laced his fingers with Blaine’s. “I'm sorry that sometimes I have a hard time accepting it.”

“You don't have to apologize. You’re the way you are for a reason. Maybe I shouldn't push so much.”

“Well, maybe.” Elder Hummel made a half shrug. His smile grew wider. A bit sly. “Or maybe it's good for me. I don't know.”

“Good. Because I know even less,” said Blaine. He felt a warm glow in his chest, much like the one he had felt at the Schönfeld’s piano. He squeezed Elder Hummel’s hand. “Let’s pray.”

[bladedalchemistreplica]

Valentine's Day is coming? Are there any plans for dates, romantic or platonic?

||●LONG LONG POST--

■Future valentines prompts ■Future refs

●Platonic Romelle&Regris

●Hinted N-7/Matt Holt

●beginning Keith/lance (this one's long)

●Alfor/Thace

"I'm planning on inviting Regris to one of those space malls! I've heard word of it from a few rebels and the paladins!" Romelle whispered excitedly as she cupped her mouth a bit.

It wasn't uncommon to hear of such luxturies the recently freed planets had to offer, and their newly gained independence allowed its citizens to take advantage of. So, and with the bit of lag of her responsibilities with the rebels, this was the chance of hers to take!

But of course-- the Blade of Marmora was ever so tough, and S T R I C T with its ways of life. So... how ever was she supposed to drag that blade with her? If he hadn't been so curious to the mall in the first place it may have been impossible. However, Regris was quite crafty in getting out of blade duties.

At least once in a while. As long as he'd be back in one piece and their other ranking members had enough numbers available, she was sure he'd be able to join her. And he was sure as well.

Matt shrugged. "I wanted to see if N-7 would like to go out and see some of the rumored meteor showers passing Olkraion. I think they'd enjoy that kind of view, they really haven't been out much, and Te-osh said they'd always wanted to see it."

The showers on earth were incredible, but so were the ones that happened on Kraydah on those clear nights, so beautiful and breathtaking. He always wondered how she never saw any, but then again, most of the attacks happened then; So now, with Voltron being back in action and with Kraydah being more secure, the possibility to see it with her was open.

Over time, he'd grown to enjoy spending time with her, not only for learning and sharing one another's knowledge on the systems and organization of files and charting systems in color code--

He really liked spending time with them.

"I never really did much on Valentines Day. The most I managed to do was catch a solar eclipse that one time when I was tweleve." Keith never saw much point to it, mostly since he never got much back from the holiday in question.

Beyond the force sharing of candy and toys for school and then the sharing of candy during hid time at the Garrison, and then that one time a girl got dared to ask him to that dance...

He felt bad for her. He really did. Even if it was a cruel prank, the more he reflected on it now, the more guilty he felt. He could have been nicer, but not many showed him much more than a casual wave or nod.

That was until he met Lance. Well, Shiro was the first to show him at least a surface level of kindness that wasn't forced or out of pity. But Lance was the second. The blue, Lover boy, paladin Lance. The one who was always in the middle of throwing compliments and smooth openings to anyone who caught his eye.

Almost everyone, but not him. He never saw anything directed at him or heard a single word directed at him.

Until he walked up to him and asked if he'd want to see a proformance on one of the days he'd be with the paladins once more. Lance seemed more, quiet and uncertain, less himself. Which just made him more suspicious to some prank being pulled by him or his fellow paladins.

But no, no Lance wasn't pulling some prank on him.

No, Lance was being truthful in his question and had been looking at him with a slowly turning frown of disappointment. He'd said yes almost soon after, maybe with a bit more excitement than he'd wanted to have be heard.

In the end, Lance walked off with some stupid stride and an even dumber looking smile.

"I have a little something planned for Al, if he doesn't mind a bit of traveling." Thace was proud of the plan for their night together. Plan everything out in a manner that ensured they'd be left alone and not disrupted for a good chunk of the night and possibly early morning.

Alfor never did seem to mind traveling around, even from the experiences told of his past endeavors the best had been ones where the paladins of old had traversed a planet to their next destination or discovery. One of which Alfor seemed determined to prove was either correct, or dangerous.

The ones he seemed to personally favor were those of which he was able to experience something of familiarity or to see some of nature's natural beauty. Thace had taken note of all of these.

And now was the perfect time for such an occasion. So, when Tavo was able to be watched over by his newly elected guardians, he would bring Alfor to that spot to watch a few of Olkairon's fauna make a great migration through the forest, and he could hope be unaware of their presence throughout it.

[hugmetightlyx]

a little girl crazy

pairing: lip gallagher x fem!reader

posted on March 6th

@wolffininthestars asked: Prompt 30 lose your sanity for a girl. Female reader and Lip Gallagher! Basically, Lip goes girl crazy over reader, and Fiona or Ian snaps him back to reality.

30

“I didn’t think you were the type to lose your sanity for a girl”

“I didn’t either”

TFR Prompts

note from xe: I'm not entirely sure I did this prompt and request justice but I really hope you enjoy it, babes. I also ended up writing it off more like teasing than snapping him back to reality because I apparently couldn't read when I began writing this, I'm sorry.

masterlist

summary: Fiona and Ian take notice of Lip's newfound.. cheesiness

word count: 0.7k

“Since when are you girl crazy?” Fiona’s words cut off Lip telling Ian his plans for the day,

All of which consisted of the pretty girl that had been coming around lately.

“What?” confusion written all over Lip’s face as Ian laughed.

“I’m not fuckin’ girl-crazy,”

“Dude, all morning you’ve been going on and on about how you’re gonna do all these sweet things for Y/n today because of how horrible her week has gone, you’re a little girl crazy!” Ian said, causing Fiona to nod in agreement as she took a seat at the kitchen table.

And as much as Lip wanted to argue, they weren’t entirely wrong.

The past few weeks have been the beginning of Y/n’s and Lip’s relationship, having been on and off best friends since right after Lip graduated high school.

He almost felt the need to make up for lost time, and as much as he hated the cliché coupley shit, he had begun going out of his way some days to drop off flowers at Y/n’s work or apartment just to see her eyes light up when he handed them to her.

Lip had begun giving her a little extra attention when she had bad days and getting a lot more comfortable at her apartment than he usually is.

That and a handful of other things that’s way out of the usual territory for Lip.

It was even a little shocking for Y/n, I mean, she was enjoying it and was extremely grateful about the man’s effort but she had watched him be a boyfriend to other women plenty of times.

Whether they had been a casual hookup to him or an actual girlfriend Y/n had never actually seen him be so,

Cheesy

Lip’s love language was actions, things like doing the dishes so that you don’t have to worry about them later, putting on your favorite movie when you aren’t looking to put you in a better mood. He wasn’t the type to buy you flowers and chocolates.

Again, not that she was complaining.

“Okay, so maybe I have been putting in some more effort for Y/n, so what?” Lip said, getting up from the table and making his way towards the fridge.

“We’ve known each other for this long and I’m only just now getting my shit together, I kind of owe it to her,” Lip continued as he grabbed a soda, finally looking back at his two siblings.

“You sure it’s just that, Lip?” Fiona teased, a knowing smile on her face.

“What do you mean, Fiona?” Lip asked, glaring at his older sister when she let out a laugh.

“You’re in loooove” She sang, causing Ian to laugh as he stood from the table.

“I didn’t think you were the type to lose your sanity for a girl, Lip” Ian teased as he began walking up the stairs.

“I didn’t either,” Lip mumbled, barely above a whisper before he excused himself to go to work, discarding the barely touched soda as he walked out the back door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/n, your man’s in the front!” Y/n heard her coworker Tina call from the door of the small kitchen,

“I’ll be out in a minute!” Y/n grabbed the tray of plates before making her way out to the front of the small diner, glancing at a Lip with a smile before focusing on the table she was bringing food to.

“Hey,” Lip said, watching the girl finally slide into the seat next to him after letting her manager know she was taking her break.

“Hi,” the smile on Y/n’s glossed lips showed just how happy she had been to finally see the boy after nearly a week without more than just a quick hello and goodbye kiss.

“Are you still free tonight?” Lip asked, smiling back at his girlfriend as she adjusted the rings on her fingers.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so, Pretty sure my boyfriend has plans for us,” Y/n joked, shrugging as she made a fake sympathetic look towards Lip.

He laughed, shaking his head before responding,

“Ya know what Ian said today?”

“What’d he say?” The way she inched closer urged Lip to go on,

“He told me I was going girl crazy over you,” a smile spread across Y/n’s face.

“Hm, do you agree?”

“Yeah, I do, you’re worth goin’ a little girl crazy over, though,”

[levihantrash]

Priorities

For Levihan week Aug 2021 Day 2 prompt: confessions

Also based on a cute ass tumblr prompt by @sanothebreadpup <3 hope you like it!!

Summary: It’s been a while since Hange wanted to confess, but their to-do list was too goddamn long. Erwin suggested going to Levi for advice on managing prioritises. Instead, they asked Levi if he wanted to bake… for a titan.

note: no smut but lots of spicy poetic touching

cross-posted on ao3 🤪

-----

Hange wanted to confess. It had been months since they knew that their best friend status with Levi could potentially be tweaked to include just a bit more romance, and they knew they had to be the one to take that step. As much as Levi was quick-witted on the battlefield, he wasn’t quite the risk-taker in ordinary settings. In fact, Hange figured Levi would sip tea beside them until he was greying and would probably be as content with the arrangement.

Hange wanted to confess, but their to-do list was too goddamn long.

Out-of-the-blue, though characteristically charismatic, Erwin gave the soldiers a pep-talk on how they need to know what to prioritise (i.e., humanity's victory).

Inspired, though the speech’s intended audience was clearly for new recruits, Hange tried to prioritise their tasks. Within a day, they got overwhelmed, the list being more of a reason for delay than for action. Moblit, well-meaning as always, tried to get Hange to focus on one at a time but that was unthinkable to them. One at a time meant that the confession would never happen. There was too much to research. Too much at stake. Too much for one inconsequential confession.

Unknowingly, Erwin saw Hange wringing their hands, muttering to themselves in the dining hall.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just can’t prioritise the important stuff,” Hange grumbled. Perking up at the mention of priorities, Erwin advised Hange to seek Levi’s guidance.

“Levi only does one thing at a time once he sets his heart on it.”

Eager for a chance encounter with someone they technically already hung out with on most days, Hange asked Levi for help. More accurately, in perhaps the most roundabout manner, they asked Levi if he wanted to bake… for a titan.

“For research,” Hange said, almost convinced by their own performance.

“You can do that yourself,” Levi said reasonably.

While starting a task was horrendously difficult, Hange was not one to give up once they began on one.

“You’re the only one here who can bake.”

Eyes narrowed, arms folded, Levi was not buying the compliment. He had a pile of papers left to read. Hange’s whims could be settled by someone with more well-matched interests and time management.

“Go ask Petra.”

Hovering nearby with another paper for her captain to sign, Petra noticed Hauge's crestfallen face.

“It’s not about the baking being done but who Hange is doing the baking with,” Petra whispered, as discreetly as she could.

"I'm busy," Levi said, loud enough for Hange to hear, heedless of Petra’s input.

“Alright.” Hange sighed, internally fuming that they should’ve found a more legitimate excuse. Bluff out something like Erwin’s orders. Levi followed Erwin’s orders without question. Hange’s requests were dealt with more scepticism. Not that Hange had the best track record of requests.

In the end, Hange prepared the baking supplies, because even if titans couldn’t stomach cake, it was an experimental endeavour. Practically speaking, they could give some baked goods to the juniors. Maybe even gift some to Levi.

Stumbling into the kitchen with too many ingredients in hand, they found Levi leaning against the entrance looking positively sullen. Upon spotting Hange, his face morphed into a more acceptable, neutral expression, nodding towards them.

"I thought you were busy!"

Levi shrugged, grabbing some of the ingredients from their arms. "I was. Didn't you want to bake?"

“I guess?”

The sudden change of mind was too abrupt for Hange to wrap their head around. A hopeful glow had unfortunately begun growing in them. Levi was being exceptionally nice today. No doubt that he was usually nice. Just not will-bake-for-your-titans kind of nice.

"Erwin said that you are really good at prioritising tasks,” Hange said, slowly digging through the cabinets for the utensils.

"Huh. Let me guess—he wants you to learn from me."

Hange scratched their head absent-mindedly. "He did tell me to ask you."

"I'm not actually very good at sticking to a task,” Levi admitted, wondering where in hell Erwin got the idea that he was focused. If he were, the paperwork would have been submitted, instead of lying around, flapping aimlessly in the wind before Petra (and Oluo) offered their generous help. He refused—every time. Levi was simply good at keeping a blank face and reporting to Erwin that he needed more time, which Erwin must have mistaken as a sign of seriousness than a sign of procrastination.

“You are! You finished work before coming have, didn't you?”

Levi didn’t breathe out a word, silently pouring through the book of recipes.

"What do you want to bake?"

Hange didn’t mind his lack of response, pondering over his poor cover-up question. "Something easy. What about bread?"

"Bread isn’t easy."

Difficulties translated into the promise of adventure for Hange. Pumped up, Hange prodded at the picture of an unremarkable loaf of chocolate banana bread.

"Let's do it anyway!"

“Suit yourself.”

-----

The small touches were the ones that were hardest to ignore. Hange felt the accidental-deliberate brush of Levi’s elbow when he reached over to choose an ingredient. Other times, he guided their hand with the right amount of strength for stirring the batter. His fingers over their stirring hand were firm and reassuring.

“You’re stirring too fast,” Levi said patiently.

“You’re distracting me,” Hange replied half-heartedly.

“Oh, am I?” The fingers left Hange’s hand. Just as Hange was about to lament their moment of folly in allowing that to happen, the fingers reached out towards their face. Forcing in a breath, Hange felt Levi’s thumb rub out a chocolate stain at the side of their lip.

“How did the chocolate get there?” Levi murmured, more to himself than to them.

“I was snacking on some of the chocolate bits a while ago…” Hange said cheekily, licking the side of their lips only to realise that Levi’s thumb was still there. Their tongue brushed his finger, and in that contact, Hange was ready to collapse from self-generated sexual tension.

Though his eyes widened noticeably, Levi quickly resumed his blasé expression. Rubbing the rest of the stain out, he walked to the tap to wash his hands. There was some hesitation, before he hurriedly turned on the tap, letting the water run for two seconds over his hands before going back to his position next to Hange.

Unsure as to whether to be offended or pleased by the sight of Levi cleaning the evidence of their encounter with such carelessness, Hange busied themselves with breaking eggs and separating yolk. If it had been Levi with a finger lined with fudge, Hange would’ve licked it spotless. With permission, of course.

To pay him back in kind, Hange plotted their own routine of touch as well. The touches became bolder, starting innocently enough. From casually brushing away hair that was poking Levi’s eye, to going behind Levi who was busy slicing up bananas and placing both hands on the counter. Their arms were now on either side of him, conveniently taller than him so that their head could peer right over his shoulder. The cutting didn’t cease—it only got more rapid, the bananas becoming neat circles in a matter of seconds. Hange let out an impressed whistle, hands not leaving the counter.

“Stop distracting me.”

“Oh, am I?”

One drop of the knife, and a swift turn later, Levi found himself staring straight into Hange’s bright, beautiful, heavily eye-bagged orbs.

"Hange, do you know why I'm in the kitchen at 2am baking for some shit-brained monsters?"

“Titans don’t have—”

“Because I have priorities.” Levi interrupted, not allowing Hange to clarify what the physical anatomy of titan subjects entailed.

Hange blinked, maintaining an oblivious exterior. “Your priorities include titan research?”

“You know what I was going to say.”

“Somewhat. I want to hear you say it out loud, though.”

Grimacing, he concentrated his gaze on Hange’s collar instead. Skin flushed, collarbones peeking out mischievously. Bad idea.

“You little shit.”

Their laugh was quieter, milder than the ones they let out on other days. “My favourite little shit! So what are your priorities?”

“Wiping the blades. Cleaning the toilet. Dusting under the tables. Doing laundry. Having enough tea. Baking with a scientist who thinks—”

Hange pressed a gentle hand on his mouth. “I get it.”

“Which part do you get?” Levi asked, enjoying the fact that when he moved his lips, they grazed Hange’s palm. How would it be like to replace that hand with their mouth?

“That you like me.” Hange grinned, tugging Levi by the straps of his apron just a bit closer.

An unexpected flash of clumsiness made Levi knock down the bag of flour, spilling it onto the floor. The fall clouded up the vicinity in white dust. Gaining confidence with obscured vision, Hange held the back of Levi’s head, tracing his undercut, admiring how his immaculately combed hair had come undone. An attractively dishevelled mess. Hange was in no hurry. Yet.

Levi, in a spur of restlessness, looked up at Hange questioningly. Eyeing their faint smirk, he tilted his head sideways, watching carefully for any sign of reluctance. An impatient “are you going to kiss me or not” from Hange; a straightforward command was what he needed to hear. No time was wasted pulling Hange into an urgent, searing kiss. Backed against the counter, hands cupping Hange’s face, Levi devoured the sensation. The taste of sugar, fruit, flour, and chocolate clung onto the entwinement, as Hange breathily pressed up against him. Erwin had warned them both. Love in the military meant the threat of loss. The possibility of sorrow. As he felt the rumble of Hange’s satisfying groan beneath his lips sending an unprecedented warmth through his body, he was certain. He would have loved Hange whether he kissed them or not. Death would happen, whether or not Hange rubbed his waist in soothing, awe-inspiring strokes. Right now, he would die in absolute bliss.

To be honest, Hange would’ve been disappointed if they didn’t end up fucking, or at least, aggressively kissing eventually. Erwin’s advice was only a stronger reminder that Hange was never one to be conservative. They loved Levi, as a comrade, as a friend, as the person whom they would kill for, if it meant saving his life. Still, having Levi sneak a hand into the bareness of their back, sucking their neck with a hot tenderness that made their head spin, they knew that chastity and platonic hugging could not be the only option.

“We should’ve done this sooner,” Hange said, peeling away his jacket.

“Couldn’t tell when the right time was,” Levi said, starting on the buttons of Hange’s shirt.

The door creaked open.

“This is your idea of asking Levi for help?” Erwin said, a thick eyebrow raised as he surveyed the mess.

With some willpower, he stopped unbuttoning Hange’s shirt. Lightly pushing Hange away, Levi straightened up, less than pleased with the interruption.

“Erwin, you better have something worthwhile to say if you—”

“I’ll clean this up.” Erwin, fully recovered from his shock, was beaming.

“Huh?”

“It’s about time,” Erwin said, with the proud sincerity of an unwitting matchmaker, gesturing towards the door.

“We owe you one, Erwin!” Hange waved at him on the way out, while Levi cast him a grateful, wary glance. With his hand was secure on their back, and Hange’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, there was no care for an audience. Only the smell of baked goods and unfinished business fuelled their steps towards a private space. A place where they would end up in each other’s arms—spent, sweaty, and deliriously at peace.

[newtonsheffield]

I'm a twitter girl but your tumblr page makes me so happy I almost forget just how much of a big mess everything in world is right now (cries in brazilian) cause even if I'm feeling incredibly frustrated I just know that I can re-read your posts and that is ✨ casual magic ✨

With that being said, I would really love if you could write something like kathony making up after a fight (yikes, angst trope), they're so adorable that even angst from these two peanuts makes me go 🥰😍🥺

Hiiiii! 

I’m very glad to have lured you over from twitter, even if just for a little while! But ✨ casual magic ✨is not necessarily a phrase I would use to describe my writing process. I am most often found crafting these posts on an upturned bucket sandwiched between the cupboard where we keep the surgical instruments and the stock cupboard in the sterilisation room at work, tapping away on my iPad. That being said I’m very glad that you find this blog a soothing (maybe?), entertaining place to hang out!  And I always love reading your comments! 

Okay! Kathony fights seems to be a very popular prompt at the moment so I’m gonna let a few people piggyback on your post! Sorry! I know I’m the worst! 

Anon Asked: Hi! Thank you so much for your entire Bridgerton and Sons AU universe!! Your updates make my day :) I am a sucker for angst and then make up sessions and was wondering if we could see more of Anthony and Kate's fights (and make-ups), maybe when they first started dating? Hello and I can take no credit for making your day! Anthony and Kate are fully formed people at this point and write themselves at this point. I just post it! 

Anon Asked: Hi.I love Bridgertons and Sons so much.I would really like to see Kathony fighting ( cause I live for the angst ), could do maybe there first serious fight as a couple? Hello! I’m so glad you’re loving Bridgerton and Sons! I’m ridiculously proud of this scrappy little universe that I keep determinedly crowbarring into the world so THANK YOU!

Kate Sheffield’s first fight with Anthony Bridgerton as a couple happened when they’d been together for about 2 months and honestly, in hindsight, it was a little surprising it had taken them so long. Especially given their track record.  Kate could admit, it had been her fault really. She had been feeling ridiculously tense all day, and she had really no idea why. She’d woken up and her teeth had been on edge. She’d sat in traffic, irritated, as the minutes ticked by. She’d been running late, walking quickly through the lobby and someone had walked right into her, hot coffee soaking into her blouse.  “Ma’am I’m so sorry!” The young man had said apologetically, attempting to dab at her with a napkin.  “It’s fine!” Kate had snapped, swatting the man’s hand away from her chest and moving towards the elevator.  “For Fuck’s sake!” She cursed, leaning against the wall of the elevator looking down at the large stain now splattered across the cream silk. Well that was never coming out. Still Kate told herself, not the end of the world, some of her dry cleaning should be in her office, Lucy usually collected it on Friday mornings. Kate sighed as she stepped off the elevator, barely looking up as she stepped out

“I know, I know I’m late Luce. I have been having the most fucking irritating morning.” Kate said irritatedly tapping away at her phone screen. And a decidedly more masculine voice than Lucy’s hummed  “I’m very sorry to hear it, Kate. Anything I can do to help you relax?” Kate stopped, her head swivelling upwards. Anthony was leaning against the reception desk, his hands in his pockets, his hair falling over his forehead, a lopsided grin on his face. And Kate’s stomach clenched a little at the sight of him. She forced her eyes to roll, forced herself to turn and walk away.  “No, Thank you. And surely, a man as busy and important as yourself as something better to do than convince your girlfriend to let you undress her in her office.” Kate quipped, Anthony’s laugh rang out and she heard his footsteps following her. Lucy looked up, her eyes wide as Kate breezed past her into her office with a  “I’ll just be a moment, Lucy.” shutting the door in Anthony’s smug face.

By the end of the day, Kate was really truly  ready to scream. She had three of her most annoying clients, and a settlement she had been managing for months had gone to fucking hell. Kate sighed putting her head in her hands, as a knock sounded at the door. Kate didn’t look up, Lucy had gone home an hour ago. she knew exactly who it would be and honestly, she didn’t want to be around Anthony’s calm patience when she was this irritated. She knew she’d snap at him and he didn’t deserve it. 

“Kate Sheffield and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day would be quite the film don’t you think?”  Anthony’s voice sing-songed across the room to her and Kate felt irritation flare in her chest again.  “Anthony, can you not, please?” Kate said irritatedly, still not looking up from the desk. Anthony clucked his tongue, and she heard his footsteps approaching then felt his firm grip on her forearms, dragging her to face him. An irritating smirk on his face.  “What’s up Katie Cat?” He said lightly, tapping her on the end of the nose. Kate scoffed irritatedly shrugging his hands off her arms as she stood. Snatching her bag from under the desk and marching past him towards the door. Frustration welling in her chest. She knew it wasn’t fair of her, knew that he was only trying to make her feel better, but because she was Kate Sheffield, she apparently couldn’t let him. She grabbed her coat and marched out of the office. Anthony calling out bewilderedly  “Kate, did I do something?”  “No.” Kate said unable to keep her tone from coming out clipped.

“Then why are you  practically sprinting away from me?” He said, and the last shred of her patience floated away.  “Because I just want to be alone!” She practically yelled, turning around hating herself as Anthony’s face fell, flinching away from her a little. His voice was a little stilted when he responded  “Kate what are we doing in a relationship if you don’t want to be around me? If you’re done just say so.” Ad she felt tears prick in her eyes at the despondent tone in his voice, the way he couldn’t even look her in the eye. And she crumbled. She dropped her bag and stepped towards him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. 

“I love you.” Kate murmured against his neck, and She felt Anthony relax into hr embrace. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I’m just tired and stressed and I don’t know you were just trying to help. I’m so sorry.”  Anthony was silent for several seconds before he said

“I love you too you know. And I know that I can be-” Anthony started a little hesitantly.  “No, Anthony.” Kate cut him off, the hesitant expression in his eyes nearly more than she could stand “You were just trying to help and I snapped at you. You have nothing to be sorry for okay?” Anthony stared into her eyes for several seconds as if to check if she was telling the truth before nodding, letting out a relived sigh.

“I just want to help you, when you feel like this Katie. We’re a team now, remember?” And his voice was so soft and he was looking at her with something like love in his eyes and she couldn’t help herself from standing on toes slightly to kiss him soundly. When they broke apart, Anthony’s lopsided grin had returned and Kate finally felt her irritation ebb away. She tugged on his hand 

“You’re coming home with me, Mr Bridgerton. We just had our first little tiff and I know something else we can do as a team.” Kate said, the corners of her lips tugging up into a smirk as Anthony jostled into her in his hurry to follow her. “And just by the way, I’m not sure I’ll ever be done with you.” 

I’m sorry! This was...bad    

[waywardfangirl]

I was incredibly fortunate to get to write for the wonderful @fight-surrender in the Carry On Secret Snowflake exchange, and she gave some of the best prompts I've seen. I ended up choosing to write a meet-cute (a meet-ugly, really) that takes place on the beach and centers around Simon's new fixation on the supposed dangers lurking below the waves.

I have to give a giant thank you to @foolofabookwyrm and @caitybuglove23 for being excellent betas, cheerleaders, and for helping me get the fic formatted and posted when my computer stopped working - you guys are the best! 💜💜💜

You can read the fic below, or on AO3!

Simon

 

I've always wanted to go to the beach. Growing up in care, I never had the opportunity to, but now that Penny and I are done with university and enjoying weekends without the threat of homework hanging over our heads, I finally can. Of course, we don't live close to the beach, so our day trip took some planning, but it gave me time to look up all the best places to eat, and it gave Penny time to watch every possible documentary about the ocean. I watched a lot of them with her, and while I know I probably won't see all of the tropical fish that swam across our TV screen, I'm still really excited to see the ocean. 

 

Unfortunately, I also happened to be in the room while Penny watched some show called “Predators from the Deep”, or something along those lines, so my excitement is also tinged with trepidation (or outright fear) of some of the things lurking under the waves.

“Sharks aren’t anything to worry about, Simon! They don’t want to attack you, and the likelihood of even seeing a shark here is extremely low.”

 

“It’s not the sharks I’m worried about, Pen! It’s all of the other stuff, all those little parasites, and the poisonous things, and the spiny ones.” The documentary was filled with shadowy shots of spiked balls and spotted tentacles just waiting to attack some unsuspecting wader.

 

“Don’t eat any of it then,” she replies, hardly even paying attention to me as she smooths out her blanket and sets up the umbrella.

 

“What?”

 

“You said you were worried about the poisonous things, so just don’t eat anything you find in the ocean.”

 

“They can hurt me even if I don’t eat them! What about that one octopus?”

 

“That was venomous, not poisonous, there’s a difference.” She squirts sunscreen into her palms and then slaps them lightly onto my cheeks, not allowing me time to squirm away.

 

“Whatever, venomous then, there are still things to be scared of in there!”

 

Penny ducks under the arm I have flung out to point at the ocean with, and grabs two waters from our cooler.

 

“You’ll be fine Simon, I promise.” She shoves a bottle into my hands. “Rub in your sun cream, and let’s walk by the edge of the water, alright? You’ll like it, we can find shells!” She starts off, picking her way through the sand and looking back only once to make sure that I’m following her.

 

It turns out that the water feels quite nice, even soothing. The sounds of the waves and the feel of cool water splashing my ankles combine to make me feel safe. They make me forget about the horrors lurking off-shore.

Penny has a handful of shells and has started handing me others to put in the pocket of my swim shorts. I’ve found a few shells of my own too, but I stopped paying such close attention to the ground about ten minutes ago, when I noticed a man about our own age playing in the waves with his younger siblings.

 

He has dark hair, originally falling around his face but now wet with seawater and slicked back to emphasize his widow’s peak. He’s still too far away for me to tell what color his eyes are, but as Penny and I walk closer I’m able to make out more of his facial expressions. He seems to be putting on sneers for show and occasionally gives bright smiles for the younger kids swarming him. He’s wearing one of those long-sleeved swim shirts, but it’s clinging tight to his body. He looks like he could be a footballer with all of the muscles I can see, even at this distance.

 

I’ve been trying not to stare too openly at him, but I can’t really help it - there’s just something about him that keeps drawing me in.It’s almost as if I’m under some sort of spell or thrall. Right now though, I’m extremely glad I’ve been so captivated by him, because I seem to be the only person on the beach who realizes the danger we’re all in.

 

Curling around the man’s left ankle are the tentacles of an octopus, surely about to stick its fangs into him and inject him with its venom (or whatever it is octopuses do to kill people).

 

"Octopus!" I yell. I’m at a loss for any other words, but I’m desperately trying to warn Penny as I sprint off to rescue him.

 

"Ooh, where?" She doesn't sound nearly concerned enough for the looming threat of death hanging over us all, but I'll talk to her about taking proper safety precautions later. Right now, I have to go save the life of the prettiest person I've ever seen.

 

"Octopus! Octopus!" I can't seem to make any other phrases come out of my mouth, but eventually the man looks up to see me barreling towards him, flailing my arms and yelling at the top of my lungs. He raises an eyebrow at me, staying far too calm considering the mortal peril he's in, and glances behind him to see who else I could possibly be talking to.

 

Unfortunately, that means he's not paying attention enough to sidestep me when the combination of my momentum and adrenalin send me toppling into him. We both splash down into the small waves lapping at the sand and I scramble to extricate myself from his long limbs as quickly as possible, crawling down to examine his ankles and prepared to risk my own life if I have to pull the octopus off of him.

 

"What are you doing? " His voice is lovely and posh, the vowels round and smooth and expensive.

 

"Saving your life, mate, you're welcome by the way," I grunt as I make another unsuccessful grab for the tentacles.

 

"From what? All you've done so far is endanger me, pushing me down and holding me in the water." He pauses. "If this is your attempt at murder by drowning, I think I pity you. First, you caused a scene by yelling the whole way down the beach before you assaulted me, and now you're not even bothering to hold my head under this truly pathetic amount of water. You're an absolute disaster."

 

"I told you—" (why are these tentacles so hard to grab,) "I'm not trying to kill you, I'm trying to save you."

 

"Save me from what, exactly?"

 

Ha! I've got you now, evil cephalopod!

 

"This!"

 

I hold the octopus up in triumph, feeling the water drip onto my sodden hair.

 

"From… a clump of seaweed?"

 

"What? No. No, it's an octopus."

 

Slowly, I lower the mass in my hand down to eye level, and immediately I feel my cheeks flame in embarrassment.

 

"Oh. Right. Sorry, then."

 

I try to push back from him and stand up, but my hand won't release the seaweed (it really did look like an octopus!). When I try to move a wave hits me, washing the sand out from under my foot and making me flounder for a few moments, only compounding my embarrassment. When I finally look up at the man I accidentally assaulted, he seems entirely unbothered by anything. He's lounging back on his elbows, somehow managing to look down his nose at me even though I'm sitting up fully now, and it's simply unfair how defined his abs are, even under his shirt.

 

"Do you make a habit of doing things like this?"

 

His eyes are too intense for me to look at any longer, they're a grey color that seems to be shifting to reflect the ocean behind me, and I have to busy myself with peeling the green fronds of seaweed away from my fingers.

 

"Like what?"

 

"Attacking strangers or playing the hero, take your pick."

 

"Sorry. I thought it was an octopus and I didn't want you to die," I mumble. This prick should be grateful, where does he get off being so smug anyway?

 

"Why on earth would I have died from an octopus touching me?"

 

"Because they're one of the most deadly creatures on earth!"

 

"What? No they're not. Not the ones around here, anyway. The blue ringed octopus is incredibly deadly, but it lives in the Pacific Ocean."

 

"But, couldn't they-"

 

He levels me with a look that could probably set me on fire.

 

"Mordelia!" One of the children comes running over from where they fled when I tackled their brother. She looks to be about twelve or thirteen, and while she isn't quite as dark and villainous looking as her brother she still has his same air of superiority. "Does this gentleman need to be worried about being attacked, maimed, or killed by any octopuses while swimming today?"

 

This kid - Mordelia, I guess - levels me with the most condescending look I have ever seen, and just scoffs . Actually scoffs at me, like I'm an imbecile. (Although, I still have seaweed stuck to me, so she may be onto something there.)

 

"No. Most accounts of cephalopod attacks can't be proven, and the few that have been entirely substantiated occurred in vastly different habitats or under circumstances that this beach couldn't support."

 

With that, she turns and runs back to the rest of her family, leaving me with only a parting eye roll.

 

"She's going through a marine biology phase."

 

It's the first thing the dark haired man has said to me in a casual manner, and I startle a bit. 

 

"Did you also have a marine biology phase?"

 

I think my question catches him off-guard, and I smirk.

 

"Perhaps," he answers after a beat. "But Mordelia's has been going on for three years now, so we think it may actually stick. Mine dried up after only a few months."

 

He smiles at me for the first time since I knocked him over, and it's almost painful how handsome he is, sprawled out elegantly on the beach like he's in an ad for expensive watches or cologne or something, and I can't believe I tackled him because of some stupid seaweed.

 

"I had a dinosaur phase," I confess, smiling back at him.

 

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" I reach down to help him up, and I'm shocked at how cold his fingers are, and how much I want to warm them up in my own. It's too bad I made such a horrible first impression, I would otherwise be sorely tempted to ask him out on a date. "What's your name, by the way? You've already attacked me, had we been in cars we would have exchanged names and proofs of insurance by now."

 

I’m such a mess. I didn't even think to ask what his name was.

 

"Simon. I'm Simon."

 

I go to shake his hand, and then realize that we're still holding hands, and I feel my cheeks grow redder still.

 

"Hello Simon, I'm Baz. It's nice to meet you, although the next time we meet I sincerely hope you can refrain from throwing yourself quite so bodily at me before we've even said hello."

 

"Yeah, umm, I'm sorry, really, I-" My brain catches up with my mouth. "Wait, did you say next time? "

 

His mouth curls up into a grin, and he gives my hand a squeeze as I try to figure out how I messed up so badly and things still worked out so well.

 

"Of course. For our first date, perhaps we can go to the aquarium and you can see what an octopus really looks like."

[forevfangirlwrites]

I'm obsessed with the actors au! first date/kiss for that au?

Part 1: Here (Part 2: Here)

The best thing about Percy’s life is that he has managed to score a date with The Annabeth Chase.

The worst thing about Percy’s life is that he has no fucking clue how he’s supposed to pull this off.

She’s a famous actress. So it’s not like he can just take her to Olive Garden and he does not have the budget for something super fancy and oh, did he mention, she’s famous, so going out in public is going to be an issue and—

He calls Grover.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” Grover says in utter disbelief over the line.

Percy groans as he plops down on his couch. “I almost wish I was, this is too stressful. I can’t do it, why did I even say anything?”

Luckily, Grover is his best friend and completely used to rambling that’s usually just a tad dramatic.

“You just need to play to your strengths.”

“Did you just quote a sports movie?”

“Do you want my help or not?”

“Yes, please, sorry.” Percy's too desperate. “Continue.”

Grover sighs. “As I was saying, it seems like she just wants to spend some time with you--though I'm still having a hard time believing that you actually scored a date with Annabeth Chase, are you sure it was her?"

"Grover!"

"Sorry, just making sure. Anyway, you should do just that: spend some time with her. And do what you do best.”

“Which is?” he asks, but he thinks he knows the answer. His oven is already on.

“Don’t play dumb, I have no doubt you’re stress baking cookies right now.”

“Okay, okay, but…” he trails off, another thought coming to him. “What if she doesn’t like baked goods?”

“Oh my god Percy, it’s baked goods, who doesn’t like them!”

Grover makes a fair point. (Plus, he’s pretty sure she’s posted stuff on her Instagram that was baked goods.)

So, miraculously, with some help from Grover and the okay from Cali, he manages to pull together something that he hopes is at least halfway decent.

The small, cramped café is already cute, but Percy hopes that by drawing down the blinds and lighting some candles and lamps he’s made it cozier. (He even bought a table cover for one of the two lone tables at the place.)

The bell rings just as he’s finished setting out some plates and his head snaps up as Annabeth Chase, in all her dark jeans and crème blouse glory, walks in. (Seriously, jeans never look that good on anyone and what probably really famous designer thought it was a good idea to have off the shoulder blouses because he might be choking a little right now).

“Hey,” she says softly while he stares.

She laughs and crosses the distance between them to smile sweetly. “Percy?”

“Huh? Yes? Hi, Annabeth, you came, I mean, of course you did, have a seat.” He gets the words out all in one breath and turns towards the counter where he’s laid out some food.

A hand on his arm stops him and forget Jason Grace’s eyes, her touch is electrifying.

“Percy,” she says slowly and he’s afraid he’s fucked things up and the date hasn’t even started. “Does it help to know that I’m nervous too?”

What?

She offers a small smile. “Believe it or not, I don’t normally do this, and I don’t know what’s going through your head but right now, I’m just a girl on a first date, and I’m nervous too. So,” she takes a breath, “let’s just be nervous together, okay?”

He wants to slap himself in the face for being an absolute (insensitive) idiot. But he doesn’t think that would help the situation, so instead he nods.

“Yeah, okay, sorry. Can we start again?”

Annabeth smiles, her first real true smile so far and Percy feels a warmth in his chest. She nods and he thanks every deity in the world

Squaring his shoulders, he turns properly towards her, taking in her appearance with a wide smile, and takes her hand. “You look beautiful,” he says, raising her hand to his lips. “And thanks for, you know...” His brain kinda short circuited when he kissed her hand, but he tries to power through anyway, “joining me tonight.”

She giggles as he pulls out a chair for her. “You look pretty cute too,” she replies with a wink and Percy tries not to have a heart attack.

“You’re cuter,” he argues back, as she slips into her seat. She makes a face and he shoots her a grin as he turns around to get the food.

“I don’t know about that, my view is pretty great,” she calls, and he almost drops the dish of enchiladas he’s made.

He tells his brain to come up with a quick and witty retort. His brain returns an image of Annabeth kissing him that is entirely unhelpful to the situation.

Turning back around with the dish firmly grasped in his hands, all he can manage is making the same face as she did fifteen seconds ago. But at least he doesn’t drop the food. Baby steps.

She laughs and he places the dish in between them, maneuvering around the drinks he’s already set out.

“Clearly you haven’t looked in a mirror,” he retaliates.

Annabeth rolls her eyes and smiles. “How about I call a truce and say that the food looks the best out of all of us. Did you make it?”

 And the nervousness is back as some heat flares up to his cheeks and his hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry if it’s not the best, it’s my first time making them, really and—“

“I’m sure they’re going to be good, now please sit down and have some too, I’m feeling kinda lonely here,” she jokes, but he catches the look behind her eyes. 

He quickly sits down, wiping the palms of his hands on his jeans. Nodding towards the food, he aims for the casual that he had lost the moment he had served the food. “Well? Don't leave me hanging.”

Truthfully, he had already taste tested (he couldn’t serve something bad) and from the little he had, it seemed pretty okay. But that doesn’t stop him from anxiously looking over at her as he serves himself.

Annabeth's eyes widen as she chews and he hopes that's a good sign. “Percy," she says as she finishes up her bite. "This is so good! There’s no way you made them for the first time!”

He blushes again and wonders when he went from being 26 to 16 again. “I had help, my best friend Grover makes it even better.”

“Still. Do you like to cook?” she asks, taking another bite.

“Yeah, but I like to bake even more.”

Seeing her questioning face, he laughs, the tension finally easing from his shoulders. “Yeah, you’ll get to taste some of that later.”

She beams at him. “I can’t wait!”

“What about you? Do you like cooking?”

It’s kind of bizarre to be talking about cooking with Annabeth freaking Chase, but if there’s one thing he’s learned, she’s only human (an amazing, beautiful, talented human in his eyes, but still just human) and he needs to get over himself.

“I wish, I am horrible in the kitchen though.”

“What? No way? You’re telling me the guest star on Cooking with Dionysus can’t actually cook?” He jokes back.

She groans, leaning back in her chair. “Oh my god, that was so nerve wracking. Thankfully, I had a recipe and some help, even if it was snarky help.”

He leans forward. “Is he actually that snarky?”

Annabeth shrugs, her exposed shoulders rising and falling, and he represses a sudden urge to kiss the freckle on her right one. “Hard to tell. I don’t think he hated me though.”

“It must be tough, being around all these famous people, must be a lot of drama.”

She sighs. “Yeah, I mean, it’s a tough industry, but there are some really good ones out there.”

“Like Jason.”

“Like Jason,” she agrees. “I’m glad he told me about this place.” Her eyes wander the room and the nervousness about his choices crops up again.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he blurts, causing her focus to shift back to him.

“Mind what?”

Well now that he’s talked himself into a hole, he has to talk himself out of it. Nervous together, that’s what she had said right?

“That our date is here, I didn’t think being out in public would be the best so I tried to make it as private as possible and this was the only place I could think of that—”

For the second time that night, she cuts him off. “Percy, it’s perfect.” She lays a hand on his across the small table. “You’ve clearly put a lot of thought into this and I really appreciate it, thank you.”

He smiles, the anxiety slowly melting away. “Good, I’m glad, I was just kinda worried about it, you know, and I’m glad that you don’t mind this, so um, thank you,” he ends lamely.

“Don’t worry,” Annabeth assures, squeezing his hand, “I’ll make sure to plan the next one.”

“Next one?” Internally, he’s dying a little, but he has to play it cool you know. So naturally, his voice totally definitely doesn’t crack.

“We’ll see, depends on the baked goods,” she teases back.

He shoots her a conspiratorial smile. “How do you feel about cupcakes?”

As it turns out Annabeth Chase (like most people, as Grover would say) loved the cupcakes and Percy Jackson loved the way the frosting tasted in her mouth when he stole a kiss.

A/N: Thank you for sending a prompt! This AU is the most requested one that I get so I’m glad I was able to write a little first date bit to establish it a little more! I hope you liked it and thanks again!

[noctuascion]

I'm gonna make 2 requests, because I'm greedy and a little Cryptage starved right now. Also, you write so good and you have this way of turning a phrase that makes me super jealous so here goes. 1) FAKE DATING! Just... always with the fake dating. 2) Not sure how the lore works on your au but if it's applicable, either vamp crypto accidentally exposing wolf mirage to silver or wolf mirage exposing vamp crypto to sunlight.

;; Be as greedy as you want, sweetums. I love writing your prompts and also love you so it works out. uwu

Also, anything to keep me from falling asleep lol

I'll write your second request in a different post, but it'll be a bit. I write kinda slowly chjdjw ;;

--

Elliott Witt has had a lot of things happen to him. He's had first loves, first kisses, first everythings. He's done a lot in his life, but, in all his years of living and loving, he didn't think fake dating his rival would ever make the list. It did, though, as much as both of them resented it.

One of the promotional managers had called them in for a quick meeting. Basically, he laid down that they were to start appearing in public more and that they were doing it together. At first, Elliott had been on board. Having more time in the limelight sounded amazing, but then came in Park, who was now going to be his boyfriend.

Now, he's not saying Park's disgusting or revolting or that he isn't comfortable enough with his sexuality to be able to freely hug and tell his buddies he loves them (because, well, his only friends are a lesbian and a drug addict for the most part), but he's straight, a ladies man! Sure, the kid's pretty and everything, but he's not feminine either. He has his own special type of charm that's not entirely easy to put into words. (He has nice legs, though. Elliott will give him that much.)

He's glad, though, that he's not the only one entirely against this. Park managed to miss a lot of meet 'n greets, forgoing seeing his fans and opting out of photo shoots. He's rarely seen in public, and, if he is, he looks about as shady as a drug dealer—hiding his face, oversized clothing, etc. He hates the spotlight, Elliott quickly figured out, and that was his only real issue with this whole ordeal.

And when Elliott pointed out that he seemed to be perfectly fine with dating him, he called him what he assumes are curse words and insults in his native tongue before telling him he'd sooner date Nox.

However, their word was final, and the two were now a "couple" in the eyes of the public. Their fellow competitors were allowed insight on their little "agreement," and they did what any supportive friends would do: they laughed and wished the new couple a happy life.

Today was their first official "date" as a couple, so Elliott intended for it to be at least somewhat decent for them. He was aware Park hated public places, but they wanted them to be seen in public together. He couldn't please both parties, so he decided a small, family restaurant would be their destination. There wasn't a lot of people that normally visited, but Elliott was a personal fan of the food served there. The atmosphere was warm and friendly and he's sure Park would appreciate that much.

Why am I trying so hard again…?

Shrugging, he pulled on his second nicest jacket—a nice yellow shade that went well with his white shirt and blue jeans. His hair was done up in its usual style, though he lacked the goggles he normally wore, so his hair fell in his eyes a bit. He was sure Park wasn't going to try too hard, so he didn't either. It was a casual outing, after all; no need for either to wear anything extravagant.

Well, Elliott was wrong when Park met up with him wearing a white turtleneck, a nice black blazer, and matching slacks. He suspects a turtleneck because he's at least trying to hide his cybernetic implantations without being too obvious and still looking like effort was put in. There was such a stark color difference, though—he felt like the sun next to the moon.

"Oh, h-hey, you look…" Elliott trailed off, unsure if he should give a genuine compliment or play it off like a joke—but he's already stuttered, so he may as well commit, "… good—you dress up nice."

"Paquette and Wraith helped." He huffed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I wouldn't have put in so much effort otherwise."

"Such a heartbreaker, Kim."

Elliott chuckled before reaching out and opening the door, gesturing for him to hop inside his car. The hacker rolled his eyes before slipping inside, the trickster shutting it before hurrying to the other side.

"Where are we going?" Park asked once Elliott was inside, turning the engine on and beginning to leave the complex.

"I know you don't like public places, and a movie is a terrible first date, so I picked out a small family restaurant that has some of the best lemon cakes I've tasted. Not to mention some people will see us, together, so it'll make the higher-ups happy, y'know?"

"Hm. You're smarter than I thought you were."

"I'm full of surprises, sugar."

"Don't push your luck with this 'dating' thing, Witt."

"Oh! That reminds me—we should probably establish some boundaries." Elliott took a right, keeping his eyes on the road but focus elsewhere. "Personally, I don't really care. So long as we don't have sex, I think I'm good otherwise. How about you?"

"No kissing, holding hands, touching in general, stupid pet names, or sex."

"… Well, you've eliminated every possible way of showing we're 'dating.' Anymore you wanna ban there, kid?" Elliott sighed, stopping at a red light and looking over to where Park was seated, glaring out the window. "This is definitely more like a friendly outing, if anything, but no one's gonna talk about us if we just seem like friends. Higher-ups will have our necks."

"I take back what I said earlier. You're an idiot if you think I care about whether or not they're happy with what I do."

"All right, fair point. Can we at least hold hands? That shouldn't be too much to ask."

Park sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and sinking into his seat. "Fine. If it'll get them out of our business, we can do that. But only for a few seconds."

"Gotcha. Man, whoever dated you in the past must've been as touch-adv—avd—ad—ad… adverse as you."

"…"

"…"

"…"

"… Holy shit—you've never dated anybody."

"Shut up."

"No, no, that just makes this whole thing worse!" Elliott began driving again once the red light changed to green. His eyes returned to the road as well, though he was no less focused on the topic at hand. "You're experiencing a date for the first time with someone you don't even like, a-and that's not fair!"

"I—"

"No, y'know what? No, you're getting a date. Getting everything! You're getting the ol' Mirage charm, gonna get swept right off your feet."

"Witt—"

"No buts! You're being dragged out of your cave and getting screwed out of a first date with someone you're actually interested in. The least I can do is be as good to you as possible."

Park only stared at him, silent, before an amused breath left him, letting himself smile. "Okay."

—;;

Park wasn't a conversationalist, Elliott quickly found out. He was very quiet and reserved, which didn't help much either. He was, however, a great listener, and Elliott loved to talk, so, in a way, it worked out for the better.

The small restaurant they were seated in was relatively quiet, but they could hear hushed whispers about them being together, seated in a secluded booth that helped alleviate any anxiety Park might have with being seen by a bunch of people.

The holographic expert had ordered himself a steak, medium rare, with a salad on the side. He opted out for any alcohol, since he was the driver and he had no idea if Park was comfortable dealing with someone drunk, so all he ordered was some tea. Park, though, only asked for steak fries and a soda.

"Y'know," Elliott said after taking a sip of his tea, "you should get more meat in your diet. Helps build muscle, gets some meat on your bones."

"Hm…"

"C'mon! You also never join us for dinner. Or lunch—or, actually, I don't… see you eat. You eat, right?"

"Yes."

Elliott hummed in suspicion, a hand smoothing down his beard, though Park's stoic gaze didn't relent any. "All right… What do you normally eat?"

"Usually from whatever takeout menu is closer."

"… How are you even standing right now?" Elliott looked sad for a moment before shaking his head. "Let's make a quick deal here—"

"We've already made a deal."

"Let's make another. If you agree to come out of your cave for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, I'll agree to do whatever you want. Anything. Well, except really bad stuff. Like, I won't kill someone. Too far."

It was Park's turn to hum, taking a sip from his straw, before placing the glass on the table. "I benefit from this more than you do."

"I get the benefit of helping my sweet sugar plum get better, even if it's just a little bit."

Park raised a brow. "What did I say about pushing luck?"

"Ya love me. You wouldn't leave me on our date like this… Well, I hope not."

Park wanted to roll his eyes, say "I would and I will," but he didn't. He kept silent, giving Elliott a look, who seemingly took the hint and changed subject.

"So, have you ever been asked out before?"

"Isn't that a bad topic for dates?"

"Just curious. Feel free to not say. Besides, it's not a real date."

"Don't let them hear you say that." Park stirred his drink with his straw absentmindedly, watching it fizz up at his ministrations. "No, no one's ever asked me out."

"Really?"

"You sound surprised."

Elliott laughed in disbelief. "Well, yeah! I mean, you're…"

"What?"

"I dunno—gorgeous, beautiful, cool and mysterious! You'd think girls would be all over you."

"I'm not exactly pleasant to be around, Witt. I'd think you'd have figured that out by now."

The trickster waved a hand, like he was denying Park's claim. "You're rough around the edges, but you're not horrible." He shrugged, taking another sip from his drink. "I'm sure someone out there's just dying to wanna date you! Or maybe you haven't met them yet. Who knows!"

Park let another faint smile curl his lips, looking into his drink. "Who knows, indeed."

—;;

Day two of their time as a couple was during a duos match (of course it was just them), and Elliott had counted this as possibly his most unlucky match.

They had landed at Epicenter and Park landed on top of the tower, alone, and Elliott landed on the ground with two other squads, one consisting of Nox and Octavio and the other being Natalie and Ajay. Nox had trained his sights on him immediately and began chasing him down (the sadistic bastard), and he had to rush to find a gun. All he could find was a P2020, and it wasn't exactly a fair match against the scientist's Spitfire.

Neither of them had any shields, but just a couple of shots from the toxic trapper's gun was enough to down him, slipping on ice and colliding with the hard ground.

"Oh—fuck!" the trickster cursed, trying to crawl away from the man towering over him. "C-C'mon, Caustic, don't you have anyone else to shoot at?"

"No."

"That's a lie and you know it."

However, before Nox could kill him off, the sound of a Sentinel going off, following by Nox quickly being down, sent a wave of relief through his system, looking over onto the cliff to see Park perched atop it, the bolt-action sniper in his hands.

No scope. That's kinda hot.

The hacker had shot off a few more rounds, and Elliott could hear Octavio shout in pain, before he began sliding down the hill, swapping out his sniper for a Wingman. The revolver was shot off twice before Nox's death box suddenly popped up in front of him, signaling the end of that squad.

However, they still had Natalie and Ajay, though they'd been injured by Octavio. They were clinging to D.O.C.'s healing up until Park tosses a grenade where they were healing. Natalie hadn't escaped fast enough, and she ended up downed, whereas Ajay was only injured.

She put up a fight, firing off her Alternator with frightening precision, and, had Park not hit his shots, he would've been killed off.

However, the man calmly approaching his fallen teammate was enough of an indicator that he won that battle, only a few wounds and scratches indicating his prior struggle.

"Kid, if I didn't know better," he said, pausing to let out a grunt at the syringe being plunged into his chest, "I'd think you're trying to show off and steal my heart."

For a moment, Park was silent, helping Elliott back to his feet, before a smirk crossed those dashing fractures, looking up at the other with a faint sense of mirth dancing in his eyes.

"Did it work?"

For once in his life, Elliott was left stunned, mouth open, unable to formulate a response, before the surveillance expert left to loot.

He regained his senses after a moment, blinking himself back into reality, and shutting his mouth.

Kid's full of surprises.

—;;

Their third date wasn't for the public. Their third date wasn't even suggested by Elliott. Park had just grabbed Elliott by the arm, dragged him out to god-knows-where, late at night, and laid down on a small hill. He didn't say anything, didn't give any explanation, and, honestly, Elliott didn't expect anything less. He just laid down beside the other, looked up at the stars, and let out a breath.

However, as Park's own mind was clear, hands resting on his stomach and a leg bent at the knee, Elliott's own was filled with thoughts of confusion, his hands behind his head, acting as a pillow.

Park was such a strange guy. One day, he acts like he's the bane of his existence, and, the next, he's smiling and making quips that make Elliott's heart race. Elliott's been with a lot of people, and he's learned a lot from his time with them, but there's never been a time where they've made him feel like… this.

They never badger him about his gross, smelly hair spray, they never playfully banter with him, they never push him off of exploding trains, and they certainly never made him speechless, never made him feel like he lost the ability to function. They never treated him like a person. They always just treated him like… Mirage.

"Hyeon?"

"Hm?"

"I don't think I'm straight."

"Mm. What makes you say that?"

"Because I think I'm in love with you."

Park smiled, letting out a quiet laugh. "You don't even know how I feel about you."

"I don't. You're weird, and you're never forward w-with how you feel, but… I just… thought you should, y'know, know, since we're doing this whole… thing."

"Mm. The fake dating thing?"

"The fake dating thing, yeah."

"… Do you want it to be fake anymore?"

Elliott turned into his side, Park own head moving to meet his gaze. "No."

"Mm. Good." Park's head turned back to the stars, shutting his eyes. "Neither did I."

[thedoctor1002]

Idk, I never posted one of my fics here but guess I'll try ~

Also, English is not my first language so feel free to correct me QwQ

Fandom: Psycho-Pass -season 1- (is this still a thing?)

Characters: Kogami Shinya, Sasayama Mitsuru, OC

Prompt (it was in Italian, so I'll translate): write a story using three among these words: cloud, dusk, thunderstorm, storm, hull, bay, shelter, sail, night

Title: Log date: 2110/02/28 (Friday) 22:04

---

The lights of the bay flicker dynamically before your eyes.

They dance hypnotically, of the same cyan colour of your office’s walls, but with a whole different beat. They drink the red and white trails from the traffic, they shatter and multiply in the tears of an inclement rain. I know how much you hate it, you just can’t stand going on recon with an umbrella. On the other hand, I love it.

Rain brings us close together under the waterproof cloth and I manage to observe details that neon lights often hide from me: the precise way you part your hair, the last few drops of the jasmine perfume on your jacket, your long lashes. Shion thinks they’re fake. We always fight over it, can you believe me?

After all, you’ve never been the kind of woman to wear such frills. 

A notification arrives, the acid light of your impalpable PC breaks through the sacred dark from where you pretend you don’t see me. It digs your silhouette and paints you like a ghost on the huge windows of the Public Safety Bureau.

Your jet-black hair lay on your back like varnish pouring over the white silk of your blouse.

“Pulling an all-nighter, Inspector Matou?” I ask casually, exposed. With you, after all, I always am: you’re the only one that can shush my shitty jokes.

But this time you laugh slightly: nothing more than a spike, a trembling breath that shakes your ribs and lips.

“The forecasts say that the storm won’t stop until tomorrow morning,” you tell me, sitting at your desk, “also, I’ve been delaying this paperwork through all week, it's about time I get it done. Might as well do some overtime and get rid of it, don’t you think?”

“You’re such a workaholic.” I label you, realizing how lucky I am being allowed to do it: Ginoza, that prude, would have never let it slide “You should leave some for the rest of the precinct: make 'em earn their wages.”

A tired smile crosses your face as you tap your fingers on the keyboard. It’s so clear you’re trying to avoid my glance.

You used to look for it.

You looked for my eyes at briefings, in that discrete way that eventually shocked everyone. You looked for them among alleys, as soon as you heard a gunshot or the chocked sound of a fight.

And when you found me, it felt like a 7 miles free fall.

“How are the legs going?” I dare to ask. I see the hollow structure of your new shins below the hem of your pencil skirt. They swing a bit underneath the glass of your desk. You didn’t lose your damn tic, your right heel shakes like the needle of a sewing machine even when you seem calm.

You shrug and drink the bottom of an already empty glass of water.

I shouldn’t have asked. It breaks my heart, to see you like this.

You don’t give me an answer and massage the back of your knee with a sigh. Lately, I feel like you’re avoiding me.

You’re turning back into the one you were before: uncompromising, cold and distant. I wonder if the bunch of ingrates downstairs have been calling you Dobermann again. I wonder if you’re still as relentless.

You worry me: your stress level is getting darker and darker. You don’t want old Kasei to take issues with you, not again.

I can imagine how you must have felt, the night when this mess happened.

You most likely got pissed, if I do know you.

I mean, did they really think I got away on my own? I bet you never doubted me: no one knows an Enforcer better than its Inspector.

“Runaway?! Have you lost your minds?” Sasayama?!”

Those were the first words you said when they rescued you. You spoke them way before cleansing your lungs from the rotten water of the river, way before asking Masaoka if you’d have ever got back to feeling your lower legs. They hurt like hell and you had to pull them around like sandbags.

“They got him” you panted, holding tight on your mentor’s coat “They took him away, I tell you!” The one that kidnapped him wasn’t a latent criminal. The Dominator didn’t activate, not even when they shot me. Please, believe me. Check on the log files, please.”

Crime coefficient: 0.

I know that bug still haunts you.

Cause, after all, it’s can’t be anything else: who on earth is that Makishima to fly under the Sibyl Sistem’s radar? Who can fool a network that knows your crimes before you do? And how is it possible that the silhouette that kneecapped you and threw you into a river could possibly be innocent?

You haven’t lost your mind, Inspector: the Dominator betrayed me, too.

Don’t think I don’t know how pitiful must have been, the next three days.

Makishima isn’t real. Forget it, it was just a delirium. You were in shock.

It was the trauma, dear. It was a breakdown. It was burnout syndrome.

You’d use some holiday, darling. Take a week. Take two. Go somewhere far, no, better: just stay at home. Go to therapy. Keep yourself busy, don’t think about it. Work. Also, don’t work: it wears you out!

They put you back on your feet in less than six hours, but nobody allowed you to join search parties. Heaven forbid your stress level getting any darker. Heaven forbid that yet another good Inspector gets demoted among those damn Enforcers. But, still, in the whole IT section, there wasn’t a single nerd that could get that night's logs. That's one funny thing, ain't it?

Woman, sometimes I wish your damn head wasn't that hard. I wish you didn't follow the Forensics to get a lift, so soon after the deed.

At least, you could have listened to Kogami. Shit, didn't you see how pale he was? You didn't even need the Dominator to read him, his stress level was mindblowing!

You should have believed him when he told you you didn't want to enter that alley. First off, it was already full of other detectives and analysts. I have no idea what kind of business you had to do in there. Second thing second, Kogami has an eye for certain matters. Do you think he didn't notice I’ve always been all over you? Not gonna lie, maybe I told him about you, once or twice.

But no, of course, you had to get in.

The software that taught you how to walk on those carbon stilts made you stand your ground and bark a "For fuck's sake, Shinya, move!" worthy of the Dobermann’s reputation. Even those who hadn't been called out made way.

But your new legs didn't hold you, when you saw what they had made of my corpse.

I'm sorry, Katsumi, I never wanted to upset you like that. 

You know how much I would have rather have a more heroic death. I don't know, like, in the middle of a shooting, saving the day. It would have been much classier, less tacky, less trash. I think I deserved it, that's all.

You stop typing and rub your temples. You shelter what’s left of your lipstick behind your hand. I wish I could kiss it off, instead of watching you consume it in a ruby red halo in the notch between your thumb and your index.

You lift your eyes only for Kogami, who’s passing by your office like a nurse in its night shift.

“So?” he asks in a whisper, putting more care in that question than I could have ever done. More than anybody could have ever done, because he’s the only one that gets you, right now. You two seem like the only ones who lost something.

You shake your head slowly, staring at the monitor and the dangerously high Crime Coefficient on the display.

“It's not working” you wail softly, misty-eyed. I can’t believe it, is it still you?

“They’re gonna kick me out anyway, if it doesn’t lower quickly” you continue, with that realism of yours. I used to call you a jinx for that but, at the end of the day, you always got our backs. “It’s for the best if I just resign. I’m gonna keep what's left of my dignity, at least.” 

The dark profile of my best friend looks through me, as he sits on the armchair next to mine. He would like to say something, a word of encouragement maybe, we all know it in this damn room, but numbers shut our mouths. 

“You could become an Enforcer” he proposes.

Goddammit, Shinya, did we work with the same person? Katsumi as an Enforcer?

And there you go, shaking your head. You hold your face in your hands and let your raven hair hide your visage. 

“Can you imagine me, following orders? I do know how to work, I can do it better than three-quarters of our colleagues and I’ve never had problems remarking it. They’d eat me alive if they had the chance. Dogs celebrate on the corpses of lions.”

“But lions remain lions and dogs stay dogs.” Kogami finishes, stealing my lines. 

I notice the slight trembling of your finger, as you tap your touchpad to send that last confirm.

In a few moments, the system will have your resignation registered. Your profile won’t unlock your Dominator anymore and in a few days time, just enough for you to collect your belongings, you won’t even manage to enter the office.

Who’s gonna explain to old Kasei that there's more of your stuff here than in your apartment?

I’d ask you what do you plan on doing with your life, but tonight’s decision seems definitely brave enough to call it a day.

I look at the tabs you open in your browser, they mirror in the windows behind you.

Air travel.

Argentina, Cuba, States, New Zealand, Germany, Kenya. You go around the world in 80 seconds flat, you multiply your chances and spread them all through the air in front of you, in a complex diagram that doesn’t lead anywhere.

I never wanted to take you away from your home, you don’t deserve this. 

You cover your eyes with a hand and use the other one to pick a random selection from your atlas.

Greece.

“Well, at least it’s on the sea.” you wrap up, condensing in a handful of words the only satisfaction you can find in starting a brand new life.

You two stare at the transparent screenshot of your flight, the countdown on the web page seems way too joyful.

“It’s so exciting, Katsumi Matou! Check-in your luggage. Your journey will begin in: 06 days: 17 hours: 34 minutes: 21 seconds”

20.

19.

18.

Seconds pass by, in complete silence.

“Do you think it would be a burden to him?” you ask Shinya, “Do you think he’d understand?”

Who would have guessed that a cynic one like yourself could believe in the afterlife? I wish I were here to ask you. I wish we could have spoken about life, death, sex, about things long gone and things yet to be.

His hand squeezes yours gently, as he looks at you in the eye, hoping to stop the train to Paranoidland from setting off.

“It’s not your fault” he reassures you as he can: the both of you wouldn’t make the average person’s empathy.

But he’s right, though, it really isn’t: I know you’ve done anything you could. It’s always been like that.

“Maybe I owe him” you draft “Even if they don’t believe in Makishima, maybe one day I could have proved he exists.”

The teal of your Psycho-Pass would suit you wonderfully, if it wasn’t a description of your mental health.

What could you possibly do in these conditions? You’d have ended up in a cubicle, filing loss and theft reports. You would have never made it to the dossiers, surely not to those of such a controversial case. Making you end up in a study room would have been my final bullshit. I’m happy with your choice, really. I would have loved visiting Europe someday.

“Don’t talk nonsense.” Kogami rebukes you, externalizing what I’ve been thinking all along: “I’m going to look out for your man: your team has already given way too much. I’m gonna find him, Matou, cold case or not.”

You nod, but it’s clear you don’t believe him. I can read through you, you’re a terrible liar.

I don’t think you don’t trust him, most likely you’ve done the math and figured that working on an independent case is far too difficult for an Inspector, let alone for an Enforcer.

And there it is, my fall. After an exhausting chase, you finally look into my eyes, even though -according to Shinya- you’re most likely staring at the void.

Despite being used to such races, believe me, I’ve missed you.

“I’m just so sorry.” you finally whisper, giving me a bitter smile. 

Try and stop me, Ginoza, tell me once again how inappropriate it is: I don’t mind anymore. I get up and I don’t hesitate while holding you and leaving a kiss on your hair, shamelessly.

“I’m going to grab some coffee” I announce, walking backwards to the door like a shrimp, just to look at my dearest friends a bit longer. “I’d get you one, but I’m short on coins. Maybe next time.”

“See you, Inspector.”, Kogami greets you, leaving alongside me.

“Be good.” you wave back, as we were all to meet again tomorrow.

Walking through the dark alley, I can hear an excerpt from our last conversation through the opaque glass of your office.

“You’re jerk, Sasayama!”

I can hear you laughing out loud, through the crackly recording. You laughed at my gall, with that warm, strong, sweet voice of yours, mocking me. Admit it: mine, after all, were the only compliments that could make you blush.

It’s incredible how we managed to joke even inside a car that was taking us on a crime scene. To an external eye, we might have looked disrespectful. Truth is I’ve always feared death so much I just had to laugh at the reaper.

“Oh, come on, what would it take? Come with me to the Precinct’s New Year’s dinner, the 17th is around the corner!” I kept annoying you, as you were too busy driving to mind my dumb flirt attempts. I still can’t get how we never had an accident. “Be good, Katsumi, give me a joy to live for!”

“You could always ask Shion, you know? You always give her more attention, after all.”

I hear the subtle sound of the wheels stopping, the parking brake cracking and it’s like Ogishima’s outskirts appear before my eyes, in that same January night. That place gave me goosebumps, but I would have hated if you understood it.

“Here we are” you announced, with still a bit of resentment in your voice. You unlocked the passenger’s door and I remember I left your Dominator in the car’s trunk: I didn’t want you to follow me. Not that time.

“You scare me when you pay so much attention” you commented, noticing how serious I got “will you tell me why are you insisting so much to keep on searching? Kogami got the guy. Tomorrow we go, we arrest him and it's thank you, next.”

My answer has been recorded as a distant and muffled noise, but I still can trace it: “He’s not the one, I tell you. I have another suspect, but I need a more solid base. And you’re staying, Inspector.”

“Staying?! You’ve gone crazy!” you laughed, locking the corporate sedan behind you “If something were to happen to you, or worse if you didn’t come back, Kasei would…”

“I said you’re staying: it’s dangerous.”

“Sasayama, our work is dangerous,” you replied, contemptuous, understanding that clearly among the gear I brought I didn’t count yours and going back to the car to get it “One more risk won’t make a difference: if I have to drop dead, it can either be here, at home or god knows where.”

“Will you join me for the precinct’s dinner, though?”

And here is a sequence that the voice recorder surely can’t have grasped, but that I could remember even in a thousand years. You cast an outraged glance over me from above the trunk’s door, panting through a half-smile. You shook your head, tucking your hair behind your ear. And finally, after refusing my invitations since 17th November, during lunch break, you smiled shrugging.

“Deal, come on, just make way” you sighed, as your heels echoed on the wet concrete “Still, you’re a jerk.”

“I recorded it: you have no excu-”

The audio file interrupts.

End of recording.