#Putting one's voice out there is a weirdly vulnerable thing...

[thewatercolours]

Podfic: "A Bitter Cup of Tea" by GerbilofTriumph

With permission of the author, a shabby but hopefully cheering narration of one of her ficlets! First time using Audacity, one take, no edits - being carried along by nothing but good will. Complete with terrible faux English accents (on purpose! that's the way the girls talk in the game!)

Her amazing blog full of King's Quest creativity can be found over here: @gerbiloftriumph

Original text here:

[svtcrus]

Broken Walls || rezef hill x fem!reader

a/n : found this in my notes and really liked how this turned out. a little change of pace, gotta put out sum fluff💀 but I hope yall like this !

synopsis : rezef hill finds himself falling in love with his sister's dear friend.

rezef never once expected himself to find a woman he'd fall in love with if he was completely honest. he'd expected to find himself at the altar marrying a stranger, just days after being told he would have a arranged marriage.

he never expected to find true love due to the fact every woman would come flaunting to him with their "oh so high" status, and preposterous personalities. or perverted nobles trying to seduce him for the fact he is the only crown prince of the empire. a handsome, ambitious crown prince where every lady believed they could tear down his walls. a stupid fairytale dream, others thought. a fairytale dream he thought would remain a mere dream.

this feeling, love, was something he believed he didn't need. he didn't deserve. as him being the future emperor, such boastful feelings were deemed unnecessary to him. especially with the heavy influence of his father and the late empress's torn relationship.

but then you came along. your small visits to the castle to visit your dear friend cayena, his beloved sister. would soon enough catch the lapis eyes of the tyrannical prince.

once he saw you as just his sisters close friend. then after a social background check, he thought of you as either a pawn for his ascension, or a nuisance to his precious elder sister. oh how much he regrets at such rude ideas now.

your smile that lit up around the castle, you seemed to always appear in his sight right after he's had another raging outburst or when he simply had a bad day. were those moments a sign?

he'd always notice you from high up in the castle hallways, looking down at the garden where your laughter erupted whenever you and cayena talked.

he'd soon find himself smiling at how graceful you danced, as your dress followed with your elegant movements during parties you both attended to. you radiated so much warmth wherever you went.

he remembers when he first asked you for a dance on his birthday. you didn't act like how those other ladies would. ladies who'd flaunt their "beauty" as they beg on their knees for him to dance with them. or ladies who would weirdly accept when he's forced to set foot on the ballroom floor. instead you accepted his request with much respect and eloquent joy. you were just, different.

"oh your highness the crown prince, I would love to dance with you," you said so sweetly. your gentle voice echoed in his head that very night.

he remembers how his hands held your beautiful body, your precious hands. how his eyes couldn't help but stare into your crystal orbs, and painted lips. you were a treasure, he so desperately wanted to keep.

the way you smiled at him with so much honesty when you danced with him. despite the glares of other noble ladies who were completely outraged and envious of your spotlight, you had paid no mind.

soon after that ball, he'd invite you for a day of tea. trying to embrace the moments his sister had enjoyed whenever you had tea with her.

tea time soon turned to walks around his own garden, then horseback riding, to him spoiling you with gifts when you two snuck out into the capital in disguise.

he reminisces to the time you had giddily told him to sneak out the palace one night. to go see the lake you loved since you were a child. together, alone.

that was when he had fully let himself sink into this love he realized he had for you. and if it wasn't love, he didn't know what this butterfly fleeting emotion would be.

you let him grasp the missed times of his youth, experience the fun things a child would normally do. you let out his inner child, you became the first person to fully see his vulnerability. you became the first and only person to break down those wall's everyone else wanted to break.

then one day on one your escapades. he confessed.

"Y/n.. I have something to say. for quite some time I have found this liking towards you. everything i do with you has always given me happiness, a happiness I didn't know I deserved. hah.. your sweet meaningful nothings, your beautiful smile. who knew I'd be so dumb in love...

what I'm trying to say is.. I love you."

he was only in a white blouse shirt and a hooded cape that day. never expecting to be professing his love in such inappropriate clothing. to ask you to be his, his future crown princess. yet here he was.

oh the way the way your eyes sparkled, despite the clear tears that were ready to fall. he hadn't expected you to cry, his eyes widened with panic, hands on your cheeks holding you with worry.

you softly chuckled at his reaction, you placed your smaller hand atop of his. leaning into his hold as you looked at him so blissfully. the moment where you had answered the question he dreaded for you to respond to.

"I love you too your highness, Rezef"

soon enough rezef proposed to you at that same place. when you swung around as he held you with his strong arms. tears streaming your face, while he kissed the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. you both couldn't have been more happier.

━━━┅━━━━*✧·̩͙♧︎🛩️♧︎·̩͙✧*━━━━┅━━

©️ @svtcrus || 08.07.2023

all rights reserved. do not copy / plagiarize my works.

[fastboatsmojito]

I am On The Clock

but I am thinking about seemingly innocent reader doing things that turn Tyler on unknowingly

the particular way they lick ice cream or a popsicle, getting themself stuck in a particularly precarious position, saying things that could be a double entendre, placing a hand somewhere or moving in a way that puts his line of sight with their chest or ass, leaning across a surface to get something to the point you're bent over it,

just thinking ^.^

-🌂

Tyler thoughts while you’re still clocked in is soo real please 😭🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Tyler Owens x innocent ! reader

|A/N; Umbrella anon cooking as per usual, thank you <3

| CW; Suggestive, Tyler has quite the dirty mouth, No pronouns/gendered terms used but you wear rather small shorts, mwah

Dividers by @strangergraphics <3

You had to be doing it on purpose, you were getting under his skin as soon as you walked out of your room, Boones voice fuzzy in his ears when he saw you in those tiny little things you like to call shorts. You sauntered up to him with your usual grin, just happy to be there.

“Hey, guys! Where’re we headed?” You asked no one in particular as you looked at them both, Boone giving some weird look you couldn’t quite place to Tyler before he replied.

“Just about ten miles North, a couple good lookin’ storms out that way, shouldn’t be too much longer now.” He nodded, giving Tyler a pat on the shoulder before leaving you, Ty’s arms crossed over his chest as his eyes moved over you.

“You okay, Ty?” Ty, a nickname you’d given him just moments after you met, getting comfortable with him much quicker than he’d anticipated.

“Just peachy.” You narrowed your eyes at him, something was definitely off but you weren’t sure what exactly.

“Well, great. I’ll.. see you later.” You could feel his eyes on you as you left, making you weirdly aware of how you were walking away.

——

Everyone was getting ready to go down to the diner when you realized you’d forgotten your jacket in Tyler’s truck a few days before.

You were going to ask him to get it for you but he was nowhere to be found and his window just so happened to be rolled down, giving you the grand idea to hop up and reach through it.

“Woah there. Could’ve unlocked it for you, you know? It bein’ my truck and all.” You gasped when his gruff voice came from behind you, leaning against the window next to you as you looked back at him.

“You got your ass out for half the town out here. You that needy, sweetheart?” His hand suddenly on the back of your knee as yours grabbed your jacket from the passenger seat.

“I- I just forgot my jacket, it’s windy, I got cold.” You shivered as his hand moved up the back of your leg.

“Cold, huh? You didn’t think to just put some warmer clothes on? No way. I think you know exactly what you’re doing.” Both of his hands moved to your waist, gently lifting you out of his truck and placing you firmly back on the ground.

“What am I doing?” It wasn’t uncommon for you to feel nervous around him, he’s a charming man, but this felt more - vulnerable.

“Wearing those sorry excuses for clothes, batting your eyelashes every time we talk, putting your head in my lap while I’m driving for christ’ sake. you might think I don’t notice but I do. I see you.” He moved closer to you as he talked until your back was against the door of his truck.

“I- it’s really not on purpose, it’s just hot out and,” He grabbed your chin firmly, disrupting your already shaky train of thought.

“Just hot out.” He mocked, eyebrows raised as he grinned down at you, leaning in.

“Right. Maybe I just need to fuck the truth outta you then, is that it?” You could smell his cologne from here, bourbon-y warmth fanning over you. You couldn’t speak, your words barely coming together in your head let alone out loud, grabbing the collar of his shirt as you shoved your mouths together.

-

I was going to make this more smutty but I think I’ll write another little smutty blurb for him soon - still mapping out his sexual vocabulary lmao 💆🏻

[kairismess]

Hello! I see that you're opening request right now, may I request about tsukishima's s/o who cries every time she comes home from work, and she ever moved from another company, but the company was also toxic, and this company she's in now is toxic too, so she's been stressing out and cries every night...

Hsshhshss I'm very sorry if this is hard to understand T u T thank you so much! 💖

OH NO WORRIES ANON !! i honestly like this idea, I HOPE I DID IT RIGHT THOUGH :'))) ngl tsukki would kinda suck at comforting if he forced it, but him just being all real with you when talking to you about it ... he weirdly gets super comforting, and he doesn't even realize it.

it's not lame at all. — timeskip!tsukishima kei x fem!reader

🏐 genre: fluff and a tall glass of comfort

✒️ word count: 975

💭 summary: kei usually doesn't find it hard to be blunt about matters like these... but he can't help but want to see you smile again, so he'll try his hardest to let you know that your feelings are valid.

another grueling day at your awful workplace, and nothing has changed from the past few places you've worked at. it's like you're destined to keep landing at poor workplaces that have a knack for treating their ordinary employees that don't stand out like you so horribly. you could only take so much mistreatment, and to think that you none of your friends nor superiors could really do anything to help you... it was like you were drowning–and nobody was out there to save you in that vast ocean of helplessness and despair that you felt.

your only relief everyday was being able to make it home in one piece, and on a good day, you'd hold in your tears until you were behind closed doors, free to weep and bawl about the misfortunes of being an adult. however, you still had to keep it down, even in the comfort of your own home–your boyfriend was going to be over that evening, and you didn't want him thinking you were dramatic over such little things, right?

by the time you got to your home, kei was already waiting for you by the your door. he looked up from his glasses, his honey-colored, wide eyes greeting scrutinizing your obviously exhausted figure. you managed to smile up at him, but for someone as clever and sharp as kei, he senses something's off about you. he furrows his thin, light blonde eyebrows at you and asks in a soft voice, "did something happen today?" and that's all that it took for your facade to crumble, and for the tears to start rolling down your cheeks in spite of your seemingly sweet, yet forced, smile.

kei walked over to you and with his bandaged fingers, took your bag from you and asked for your keys. he was going to put everything away for you, he was here quite often, and he memorized where all your essentials should be, so it wouldn't be a problem for either of you. he took your hand and led you inside, and you felt a little more ashamed that your boyfriend was leading you into your own home, as if you were a child who didn't know any better and had to rely on someone more put together than you were.

kei sat you down on the couch and got a few tissues from the coffee table, wiping away at your tears, murmuring to you to remember to blow your nose as he handed you the tissue. "...do you need some tea?" he asked you as you nodded, blowing your nose into the tissue. he disappeared into the kitchen, preparing a kettle for the tea, while thinking hard of what to tell you to comfort you. when he came back with the piping hot cup of tea, he kept gulping back the lump in his throat, he was too anxious, and that was always the case with him whenever he'd get too vulnerable with you. "um... i know these days have been... less than desirable, but, you..." kei began, struggling to find the right words, looking away from you ever so often.

he sighed, feeling frustrated with himself for holding back his true thoughts on the matter; but he wanted to sound sweeter, to comfort you. but the way kei comforts is not all sunshine and rainbows; he wants you to remember we live in reality, not in a world where everything works the way we want to just because we persevere and work hard. he looks at you and gently takes your hands in his, and takes a deep breath, hoping his words won't hurt you.

"...you deserve better." he mutters, looking into your eyes, the light in those honey-brown eyes of his had a genuine glint to them, and you could tell he wanted to help you, even if his means weren't very conventional. "i'm sorry you're being treated like that, and it makes me so pissed to know that those guys are getting away with taking advantage of you like that. but... that's reality. workplaces can be fun, and some can be downright abhorrent; but at the end of the day, you're a person who works from 9 to 5 to make an honest living—and that alone is a struggle to do, every day." he utters in a soft-spoken tone.

his voice isn't snarky nor does he hope to sound like a smart ass; he honestly wishes to help you, but to keep you grounded. he rubs the back of your hands and sighs. "...i could help tender you a resignation letter, and while we're doing that, i'll help get you a job at the place i'm applying for in the summer. i'll keep you safe, as much as i can; you've gone through too much already, and i... i want to be there for you, to make up for all the times i couldn't do anything about your suffering." he confesses, his grip on your hands tightening a little.

you felt your second tidal wave of tears coming, and you rushed for the tissues, with kei patting your back, in hopes that his touch would comfort you somehow. he can't really tell you that everything will be okay, he isn't the type to sugarcoat and lie that all will be fine—he loves you too much to build your delusions up, only to be thrown back down by the disappointment of the real world. though, kei loves you so, so much that he'd help you escape those crappy workplaces and help you both land jobs at the same place together. so even if the next one will be just as crappy, or even worse... kei's got you, and he'll make sure you won't waste another precious tear on people who aren't worth crying over; because you deserve so much better.

🦕 tags !! @emptybrain01

[lennadanvers]

Hi! I love everything youve written with my entire fucking heart like you dont understand there hasnt been a single thing of yours that I havent liked! Anyways, I was wondering if you could write some more Simon Riley? You write him so well it isnt even funny. If you cant, no worries! I think youre amazing!!!!

Hi! Thanks a lot for the praise, it means a lot (you don't even know how much, I'm pretty new to fanfic writing and posting stuff is still kinda terrifying, but when people say things like this it warms my heart). Anyway, I had this sitting in my drafts for way too long, and found the energy to finish it today. Sorry for the delay, I hope you still enjoy it.

Thanks for your patience <3

Every coin has two faces

Ghost doesn’t like to think about himself.

Maybe the mask is an effort to conceal his own face when he walks past a mirror, rather than to guard his identity. Maybe it has a double purpose. Maybe it’s just one: to hide. Whatever the case, Simon Riley avoided thinking about himself. Of how he looked. How he sounded. Or moved-

Until he had met you.

Fresh blood. As in a new recruit and as in that you were bleeding the first time he saw you. Despite the bloody nose, there was something there. A burn in your eyes. The sharp smile you threw to the recruit laying at your feet. To the one responsible for your pain. Sparring wasn’t supposed to be this dirty, but they had crossed the line. And you had slaughtered it in response. A fucking demon; you had become violence on the flesh and unleashed something nasty upon them.

Once you had won the fight -not fair and square, but they had asked for it-, you stopped. Put the leash on whatever it was that took over you, and stepped back, hand to your bloody face.

Simon smelled something rotten.

For the untrained nose, it wasn’t noticeable. Most people would have looked at you and seen a surprisingly skilled recruit, that’s it. But he saw himself. Broken recognizes broken, he supposes. The anger ready to jump out. The control; years of training that someone as young as you would only have if they started before even learning to talk.

That’s what it was, wasn’t it? You were another survivor. Another messed up past. Another broken child who grew into a desperate, cold monster.

Ghost saw himself in you.

It went downhill from there. Simon Riley knew it was a bad idea, he was a bad idea. But you were so good. Scary good. Too damn close to perfect for him to be at ease. He kept an eye on you. From afar. Very, very far. From a second-floor window. From his elevated position as a sniper in the field. From a couple dozens of yards in the training area. Through Soap’s gossip.

Simon Riley had never been so close to liking himself. You were fast, methodic, smart and precise. You were strong, witty, sarcastic and poisonous. He was interested, involved, captivated and weirdly vulnerable.

It haunted Ghost how much of himself he saw in you. It just made the few contrasts (sparkly smile, short body, soft curves) feel sweeter. Just made him want to be closer. If you were so… So beautiful, so elegant, deadly, appealing, valuable… Maybe he was, too. Maybe it happened to you too. Maybe, when you looked at him, you saw yourself. Maybe you understood.

That’s why the way you looked at him it chipped his heart a little.

He had never considered himself particularly handsome. Just a man. But this man had a good body -strong, healthy, taller than most. He was good at his job- effective, respected, he had earned his position. He knew not to get into other people’s business, and he had a decent sense of humor. Some women had even complimented his accent- apparently his voice was quite attractive. The few that had seen his face hadn’t complained, either.

Obviously, he didn’t expect everyone to be interested in him. Simon knew the mask weirded some people out. But it wasn’t the mask, was it?

It was him.

You looked at him like he was the president of the welcoming committee of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Like you’d shoot him if he took a step too close (he never stood within less than six meters from your personal space, mind you). Whenever he entered the room, you stabbed him with your side eye. If Ghost had to walk past you in the hallway, you’d stick to the wall like a fucking tree frog, for God’s sake. And he hadn’t even talked to you directly.

Simon hadn’t been able to wrap his head around it.

Until now, that is. After you had been chosen to go with the team to a mission. One that was supposed to be easy. In and out. No more than a couple hours. No finding a place to stay the night. No ending up divided in a couple different locations. And definitely no spending the night hiding with you.

Alone.

There had been bullets flying everywhere. He was calm, fast. You knew better than to give him dirty looks when he dragged you to safety. But you were looking at him now. And he was terrified.

All this time, the scarred, broken kid inside him had recognized the scared, lost kid inside you. Ghost had seen himself in you.

But you had seen someone else in him.

His broad figure and trained muscles weren’t attractive, were they? They were menacing. His stealth, aim and training weren’t worthy of admiration, but fear. The hard-earned respect, the power, was nothing but a weapon, a strategic position from which to attack. Your dirty looks were the hate you had spent years nursing. God, the way you pressed against the wall in the hallways- your most basic instincts keeping you away from the predator.

Simon is a threat to you.

And you’re looking at him as if he was his father.

Ghost stares back at you from across the abandoned building you’re going to have to spend the whole night in. He’s going to be sick- you look sick. Simon knows how you feel. Being trapped in a house with a man who can beat you into a bloody pulp. Someone bigger, stronger and more powerful. Big body, hard knuckles and labored breath. Next to him, you’re so small. You’re weaker, have less experience and power over him. And you can’t leave: it would be worse. You’re trapped with him.

Alone.

It kills him, the way you step away from his body as soon as you can. How you don’t look him in the eyes, following his hands instead. He feels disgusting.

Simon takes a deep breath and forces his voice to sound calm- he’s not- and quiet.

“You alright? No wounds?”

He knows both answers: no and no. But he has to ask. Has to let you know he cares. He’s on your side. Here to take care of you. Not to hurt.

You shake your head.

“Good. Gonna stay ‘ere tonight. The others can’t be far. Contact Price to let ‘im know our position.”

A nod. He’s used to giving orders, but right now his voice sounded harsher than he would have liked to hear. Ghost winces.

“Thank you.”

It’s the surprise in your eyes that ignites his hope. He’s not an asshole. Maybe.

You don’t trust him, either way. After you eat- pressed against the wall, knees between you and him-, it’s time to prepare for the night. Simon knows how he’d feel if he was in your place. He’s more than sure you’re not happy sleeping in the same room as the big, creepy guy with military equipment who reminds you of a nightmare.

He takes off the gloves first. Someone told him he has nice hands, once. They’re brutal. But human. The mask is next. Usually- always- it stays on during missions, even if they last days. He can make an exception. His naked hand undresses the chin, the mouth, the nose- the scars. Simon bats his short eyelashes, as if the dim light of the sun setting was bothering him- he wants to show you he’s weak. He can be.

You stare at him from the other side of the room, still, a deer in headlights. Simon tucks the mask and his gloves into one of his pockets. Decides he’s keeping the bulletproof vest. But he can spare his gun. And the sniper rifle. And his knives- except for the one hidden inside his pants: he’s not undressing in front of your terrified eyes, and at least he has something to defend himself with, in case the enemy finds you. Everything else goes into a pile on the floor. He then steals a glance at you.

You’re looking at him unsure. He’s not only your superior, but a ruthless soldier. This is not the protocol. In fact, he’s being quite stupid by choosing to spend the night disarmed.

Simon shrugs. He’s not going to explain himself to you.

“’s uncomfortable to sleep with all that metal. ‘m a fucking bell.”

You give him another nod. It’s weird, how much you talk around other people. You’re usually loud, even your laugh. You laugh with other people. He’s seen you laugh at Soap’s jokes. He’s heard you teasing him about his accent.

Or, rather than that, the weird thing is how quiet you are next to him.

Ghost likes his recruits obedient and focused. Makes it easier to give orders if people have a cool head and are ready to follow. But you’re not. You’re ready to fight, flight or freeze, and you don’t trust him. You don’t trust he’ll keep you alive and well. Because you’re too busy making sure he can’t hurt you.

Except he can. He could. If he wanted. He doesn’t. For the life of him, he does not want to hurt you. Simon himself is terrified of the possibility.

Ghost knows it’s an absurd idea. He has no reason to. He is your superior, and you’re together in this. You’re supposed to watch each other’s backs. To be a team.

But right now, all you are is terrified.

And he doesn’t know how to make it stop. So he resorts to giving you choices.

“Wan’ the first watch?”

Say no, and he’ll make sure not even a cockroach crosses that door. You’ll be safer than in base.

You nod.

He bares his neck. Ghost has seen your teeth, and they’re more than enough to cause serious damage. Go on, he’s telling you, make sure I can’t fight back. Simon doesn’t say it, of course. Instead, he lays on the cold floor, away from the door and from you. Look, he’s out of the way. You can run, if you want to. You can wait until he’s asleep, grab his weapons and disappear. You can hide somewhere else until the sun rises. He just knows you’re good at hiding. He turns his back to you. There, it is yours to stab. If he ever gave you any reason to feel like this about him, by all means, go on. End his misery. But, most importantly, end yours. Take your pick, he left you an arsenal. He’s dying a death by his own weapons either way.

The shadow your body casts on the wall stays still a long time. It’s been well after an hour since he slowed his breathing down when you finally move into a comfortable position. The ruffling of your clothes and the little sigh you let out make him feel a little less cold. A little less like a monster.

When the sun wakes him up the next morning, you’re still sleeping. Ghost should reprimand you severely; should have woken him up, should have made sure someone was watching the door. But he can’t find it in him to do it, to betray this shadow of trust.

So Simon takes a mental picture of your relaxed face- he’s never seen it so close, it’s a sight worth risking his life for- and turns around. He pretends to sleep until you wake up and start making noise.

I hope you liked it, thanks again for the ask <3

If you (or anyone) have an idea/request/suggestion, I'll be happy to read them. It may take some time, but I promise I'll do my best. Also, I'm sorry if I made any mistakes, English is not my first language and today my brain was particularly confused. Just let me know and I'll fix it.

Masterlist here

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

*harvey bullock's voice* : batman an' that scarecrow guy are in cahoots! i'm tellin' ya! the vigilante an' that fruitcake totally have somethin' nasty goin' on!

bullock ships it know whats up. meanwhile, gordon is like 🤷‍♂️ 'idk, they look like sworn enemies to me'. so what if batman apprehends him very weirdly.

...

(one of very lovely an’ endearing btas crane’s features for me, always gonna be how he’s a complete twerp compared to his comic counterparts. he’s not only hella scrawny, but he’s also pretty short too.

comic crane build like a pencil compared to bruce, but btas jon is this, but a small version. a real gremlin, where in the comics, he's a goblin.

him being smaller have it's +. for one, he's easier to throw around an’ manhandle. or in this case, i kinda just thought ‘hey, bruce will have no problem to just place him in his laps’. jonathan is cuddly sized for the bat. gotta abuse this advantage to the max. he can catch him this way, or can hold him too… 

an’ look at that, it might lead to one of those few *rare, very rare* times, when jon will attempt to be comforting. he sucks at this, but he does show a shine of sympathy, if he's in the mood for that. but yeah, he would only do it, when batman is all sad an’ down. if he was scared, it’s another story. 

depressed bat makes crane feel some sort of way he hates. he won’t dare to call it anything, but he would rather them do smth less…..this. being held is nice tho. so he tolerates it, telling himself that it's fine just this one time. but then, casually tolerates *basks in* it every damn time from that point on, while using the same excuse… 

he can be regal like that lol.  

an’ speaking of regal…….

i always loved, when the bat tried to catch the scarecrow for a second time in ‘nothing to fear’, an’ jon talks to him in an odd manner. almost like a teacher would speak with a student. bruce’s slightly shameful an’ vulnerable expression is everything in that scene, esp when jon stands on the upper row of stairs looking at him. the tides shift later on, naturally. but even as a kid, it was fun to see batman being kinda humbled by some short, weird guy in a potato sack. 

like, jon is so funnily rude an’ ‘argh’ through the whole ep, it’s hard not to cherish, that batman had to put up with it. the way jonathan abused his henchmen is also smth else. he literally re-broke the dude's nose, while calling him names lol. i just wish, that besides ‘lock up’, we had managed to see other sides of him, which clearly existed. love him being a rude ass almost all the time too tho, bc it suits him. an’ it’s a fun difference compared to comic crane, whose spitefulness is usually more emotionally loaded an’ childish. btas crane feels like a proper antisocial sociopath, than anythin’. but like any good sociopath, he has that one person, who he fancy *even if in a strange fashion*. so, batman has a chance to see it all, once he gets past the cold shoulder phase. 

in their case *btas universe*, i picture that jon’s wary ‘get out of my way’ fashion in which he deals with bruce, would essentially build up into proper obsession, where terrifying him is less of a curious experiment an’ method of eliminating him, but also like….he legit wanna know what batman fears. what he sees. how jon affects him an' if it affects his every-day life. fights with him getting more personal an' more crucial.

from that bit, i was wondering what jonathan might have thought about times, when batman hung out with justice league. an’ if there was a villain, who he would feel envious of. an’ idk, doctor destiny came to mind. he’s not like fear-themed villain even per say, but he can control dreams, which is scary in itself. so jon *naturally for him* assuming that dr. destiny went after batman’s fears an’ gave him nightmares. which would instantly make him possessive an’ jealous lol. it’s his an’ bat’s thing! it fully escapes crane, that batman…doesn't ever prefer whatever villain he's fighting. not in way, where he thinks that he bonds with them over being tormented lol. i mean, he kinda does it with jonathan to a degree, but he'd rather they did it in more normal way.

regardless, bruce will have to tell him, that nope, like dr. destiny totally sucks compared to the scarecrow. mostly bc if he won’t, jon might make so, that dr. destiny won’t breathe air ever again lol.)

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐘 (8)

In which Jungkook isn't sure what those signals you're sending him are supposed to mean- but he's got an idea.

Tags/Warnings: Mafia!Jungkook, Hybrid!Reader, mute!reader, Angst, Fluff, Slight humor, Crime and violence, mentions of kidnapping, graphic description of adult content (violence, smut, Jungkooks questionable interrogation tactics) strangers to lovers

Additional Chapter Warnings: fluff, mutual pining

Length: Mid

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Jungkook has learned that your actions definitely speak louder than you ever could.

All of the things you do point towards one simple thing- and yet he's still holding back. What if his interpretations aren't correct? What if you don't want the things he thinks you want from him?

Because sometimes, you act on instincts, and he knows this.

These days, you both almost always sleep in the same bed.

He likes to have you close, to know that you're there when he's at his most vulnerable and unable to make sure you're safe. It reassures him at least a little that you rest close to him so he can act quickly if something was to go wrong.

But man, is it torture sometimes.

You've kicked off your pants again during the night, your ass barely covered by your panties as you roll over and stretch your legs next to him, toes curling and back arching. It makes him wonder, but also scold himself. He shouldn't think like that about you if he doesn't even know if you'd want that with him.

So he keeps his eyes closed, pretends to be asleep- until he can feel the cool tip of your nose against his neck.

You've been scenting him often, he knows what you're doing. It's a possessive habit of yours, and he doesn't mind it one bit- even if it sometimes leaves him rather hot and bothered. Jin had been trying to tell him that you're attempting to show your attraction to him for weeks now-

But for Jungkook, it's hard to believe that one could be attracted to him like that.

It's not like he's not aware of his physique, it's more or less.. what's beneath it. He's killed before, he will kill again, he lives in a game of eat others or get eaten after all. He's not a good person, but a good person is what you deserve in his eyes.

And yet, he can suddenly feel you lick his neck, like you're testing the waters.

"Stop that." He grumbles lowly, voice still raspy from sleep as he opens one eye, watching you lay next to him on your stomach, tail swaying from side to side a little more excited than usual. "Are you in heat or some shit now?" He wonders quietly, but you shake your head.

Your thoughts are clear as day. You like him- you know he likes you back. So what's his problem?

You do this odd thing again where you point to his heart, tapping it before you point at yourself. He's got a vague idea of what you might be trying to tell him, but he's also scared to get it wrong.

Yeah, he's scared.

But you seem to realize his fears, pointing at it again before you point at yourself, nodding. Only when you suddenly realize he might understand but doesn't like you like that, doe your eyes loose than spark, cheeks red in shame as you sit up and think to yourself for a moment.

Jungkook doesn't ever want to be the one to hurt you. But maybe, right now, he has to- because it's best you just don't get involved with him like this.

Later after breakfast, you're avoiding him it seems like. You follow Yoongi around like a shadow for a while, before you play with Taehyung down the hallway, your day ending with Seokjin in the kitchen. Jungkook knows deep down that this is better. Anyone he loves will only end up putting more pressure on him, it'll make him weak and dependant and he just can't have that happen. And yet?

"Can I talk to you?" He asks you as you started to curl up on your actual bed and not his own this time, looking up at him. You nod, and he sits down on the mattress on the floor, feeling weirdly out of place. "You know I'm not a good guy." He reminds you, inspecting some stuffed animal you have on your bed instead of looking at you. "I'm not gentle. I'm not kind. I'm not.. I can't be, you know? I have to ruin people's lives so they don't ruin mine instead, and if that means I have to shoot someone I'll do it." He bluntly explains to you. "It'll always be like that. There's a bullet out there with my name on it, and one day it'll kill me." He tells you quietly, turning to you. "And once you.. you know, really get involved with me like that, like, with love and all that- there's gonna be a bullet with your name on it too." He tries to explain.

And you nod. You fully understand what he's saying- and he can see it in the way you look at him- there's a sobering seriousness in your eyes that show him yet again that you're definitely not some pet with no idea of the real world around her. You're very much aware, that's for sure.

"And you still want that?" He asks, putting the toy somewhere in the corner of your bed. "You still want me?" He wonders, and you nod without hesitation- reaching out to tap his heart, then yours. "Thats stupid, you know?" He jokingly scolds, and you scoff playfully offended, pushing at his chest now.

Until he leans over, kissing you.

And suddenly, all falls into place.

The reality won't change after this kiss. What he told you will still be true when you part, when you kiss again, and again, and again. But maybe, he can make an exception for you in his heart.

It'll be worth it- he just knows.

[carmillas-vampiric-rage]

some random blues klues/bitana headcanons bc i love them and want to pull my skin off

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

kitana is calm and collected, and is able to cool (hehe) down bi-han when he gets into one of his moods the usual. she has the ability to use just her soothing voice to bring bi-han back to reality

bi-han is driven by independence and self confidence and so basically drills into kitana that she is capable of leadership and just as- if not better- than her entire family when it comes to her ability and skill to lead.

kitana validates bi-han's anger and annoyances, bi-han doesn't often have people actually listen to him, and so this is a very strange occurrence that takes him by surprise.

bi-han basically orders (out of love) for kitana to focus more on herself, on what she wants to do, as opposed to just what her mother, sister and empire want. they don't matter. the only thing that matters is what kitana really wants.

both kitana and bi-han are very awkward and stiff when it comes to physical touch, cuddling or hand holding, and it takes them both a while to get used to it. they're both opposed to physical touch in most aspects of life, but something about the other makes it easier, it's still weird, but they quickly warm up to the idea.

kitana loves resting her head on bi-han's back as he's sitting down on one of his rare breaks from work or training. his quick breath and rising body is weirdly relaxing to her, and bi-han has found her asleep on several occasions. he'll (definitely annoyed lie) gently pick her up and carry her to bed, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

bi-han loves having kitana just hold him, as he buries his face into her chest as she talks about her day, various plans for outworld military, things like that. he feels...safe. something that took him a while to realize or even admit. and he's able to just forget about the outside world and all his annoyances.

kitana has never really had anyone to talk to in a way where she can fully let her guard down, and not just be "princess kitana", but bi-han was different. sure it took him a while to get used to actually having a partner, and for the two to get used to each other, but bi-han truly listens to her, he doesn't expect her to be a princess, to put on the mask she puts on everyday. kitana is able to be raw and vulnerable with him, voice her anger and concerns about her family, the royal house, everything. she doesn't have to pretend with him, and it means more to her than bi-han will ever know.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[silusvesuius]

Your Depiction of Ulfric is literal perfection. I’ve never seen anyone who sees him in a similar way to me, until I found your account last year. I fucking love miserable old man Ulfric who could never catch a break since the day he was born. Every major event in his life (he can’t even decide which one’s the worst) shaped him in the worst yet most interesting way possible. I can’t speak enough about him, his messed up self esteem clashing with his ego, his repressed emotions and sexuality, his shattered image of his own body and mind, the constant loud arguments between the voices in his head (mostly just him arguing with hallucinations) *I’m definitely not projecting here* his unstable mood, his flashbacks and his odd obsessions with random harmful patterns he associates with familiarity. Because to him familiar=safe even if he’s basically only familiar to a constant state of worry and feeling like he’s being targeted or hunted down.

None of this seems to be getting better, at least not in a notable speed. Yet they’re all existing within a strong and powerful man. It’s quite the combination, he’s being weighted down by all of that baggage but his back is too strong to bend. He appears as if he has nerves of steel from the outside, but really if anything is made of steel in his mind, it’s the vessel that he uses to bottle all of that trauma up.

I already had a vague idea of his complicated relationship (obviously) with Elenwen but your version literally felt like it opened my third eye. It is scrumptious and your art is so beautiful it depicts every essence of it all perfectly without even needing to include words. I fell in love with it at first sight.

dis answer is kinda long so i'm (crumpling it up and tossing it under the cut)

Omg wtf Thank you's 🥺🥺🥺💕💕💕💕 this is so well put together into words; i will do 9543 backflips for demented ulfric always. i've grown to like him in canon too cause he really has that, wouldn't even call it deceitful, weirdly-content personality.. but i don't think anyone in the writing room in sk*rim HQ knows how to write a character that has been through Anything, event of any kind, so he seems too 'perfect' for a person that has been through literal physical torture, to me, and his reactions to things that should be greatly upsetting are too mild. even though him being elenwen's victim is a piece of information that's easy to miss it seems like it also completely slipped out of the writing IOFDHDJFUIO LOL.. it all obviously adds up to him seeming more appealing as a fashie character to the audience, cus a visibly mentally unwell man wouldn't do it for most people, especially when you want to sway someone to be on his side of things.

i think it's quite smart for the st*rmcloaks to be presented as the more warm and welcoming types of people but ulfric should be the coldest of them all. Bro shouldn't even have the mental and physical capacity to seem Content with his life especially in that moment. he should be the type to use his civil war motivations as an excuse to stay alive if that makes sense, cause i don't think he really wants to live, but he has things to do to keep his mind and hands busy xchkvcjcvkl//

i also really love how ulfric only has galmar as someone he's really close to, it always seemed beyond genius to me, to write them like that, it's cute... he rly is the only person to suffer thru 4 hours of ulfric Peak psychosis monologue followed by 2 hours of trying to prove to him that th*lmor and imperial soldiers aren't hiding in the chests and under the beds of the palace LMFAOO galmar is the one guy who he can sob in front of and act like a little baby fishing for compliments and reassurance, and, not all that related to ulfric as a whole, but i strongly believe that having him be so vulnerable with galmar would make galmar really excited, it would make him feel good, like no other damsel in distress could deliver that feeling EVER. having such a seemingly-strong political figure rely on you Badly and madly would feel like something else entirely 💗 it's very off-putting and perhaps inappropriate of him to feel that way when ulfric is just searching for stability, but i think that even if ulfric knew galmar felt that way he wouldn't really gaf LOL. he'd turn to elenwen if there was no one else to go to cause he 'knows' her, and he'd torment elisif cause he 'knows' her as well.. but he would be completely closed off from making connections with other people 🏆

+ bonus; elenwen's feelings for him would border on everything at once, like, every type of relationship and connection that ever exists.. she really views him as the food she left over in the fridge and will get to eat when she's back from work as a reward

tl;dr him being scarier and more .. unkempt? from the outside would make him even cooler tbhs. he should become christian and develop religious OCD

[xxavengingangelxx]

Somewhere Only We Know 4/?

Part 4, loves!

Triggers: Flashbacks/nightmares about torture, mentions of self-harm, mentions of suicide, mentions of possibly abusing a pregnant woman (neither party knew yet), mindfuckery Graves playing mind games, possessive behavior. Let me know if I forgot any!

Taglist! @unicorngirly1 (thanks for the ideas, love!), @sharksausages, @bellgraves, @josieguts, @lily-lily131313, @shepgurl - if you want in, let me know :)

A/N: This is entirely new territory for me! Lots of ups and downs in this one. Let me know what ya'll think! These chapters are getting harder to write, I'm not sure why! It might be because of my overwhelming work schedule and exhaustion. But I love this fic :)

Val experiences ups and downs in her first few days back with Shadow Company. Graves increases security but Val still feels vulnerably, especially when she finds out she's still expected to be in the field to help put an end to Makarov, a man she is terrified of.

-

You woke up to someone with their hands on your arms. You forgot you were back with Graves and lashed out. Or you tried to. He subdued you easily.

“It’s me, Val,” he said quietly.

You sat up. He was dressed. You weren’t. The scratches on your arms were worse than you thought.

“Why’d you do that to yourself?”

“It was a lot. It just brought back bad memories,” you responded. You were getting teary-eyed. Again. Fuck these hormones. “Shit, they drugged me, restrained me. They had me in cuffs and were about to lock me up—”

He hadn’t seen you cry in months. The last time Graves had seen you cry was when you were being tortured for information. You covered your face, trying to keep from sobbing.

So Graves, surprisingly, just held you until your tears stopped. Bandages were placed on the worst scrapes.

Graves had done that before. He’d patched you up plenty of times after his men were finished ripping you to pieces while interrogating you. Your schooling background told you he had done that to get you to associate him with comfort and to make it more likely that you open up to him (and you did; you eventually broke under all that torture and gave Graves exactly what he wanted).

But one thing Graves had not done before, ever, was hold you. Sure, you’d both laid around in bed after having sex but that was a far cry from Graves holding you for comfort.

“Shepherd hadn’t made me aware it had gone that far,” Graves’s voice was calm, weirdly soothing. “Wait,” Graves gently pushed you out of his arms and those deep blue eyes met your darker, red-rimmed ones.

“So they were about to lock you up, and you were steps away from being put in a cell,” Graves stated.

“Yessir?”

“You can knock off the sir unless we’re roleplayin’, darlin,” Graves smirked. His tone then turned serious. “Why didn’t you break? You would’ve gotten way better treatment if you’d just talked, told ‘em everything about me, Shadow Company, everything.” Graves paused before adding, “About everything we did to you.”

“I couldn’t. You were just following orders.” you said simply. “It’s—I’m—I’m—I don’t know how to explain it. I’m weirdly attached to you. And I’m convinced it’s just gonna stay that way forever. You’re never gonna let me get away are you?” You stopped before adding, “Be honest,”

“Hell no,” Graves answered immediately. “I wasn’t gonna let you go before but now that you’ve got my kid? Never.”

“And what would you have done to me if I’d talked?”

Graves didn’t answer.

“Or maybe not you but your men.”

“Tread carefully, Val,” Graves warned darkly.

That tone, that look, let you know that if you pushed enough buttons in the right order on the wrong day, Graves wouldn’t hesitate to at least smack you.

“I’m scared of you, Graves,” you finally admitted. “And while they’ve saved my life several times in the field, I’m terrified of your men.”

And the next question slipped from your mouth before you had a chance to stop it. “Would you have had them hurt me knowing I’m pregnant? If I’d talked at that hospital?”

The look in Graves’s eyes said it all. It took every ounce of strength in his body not to at least shove you. But he restrained himself. You saw an inner battle in that blue gaze, kind of like a bright, blue-sky summer day being interrupted by storm clouds but with the storm not quite gaining enough strength.

“Phil,” his voice was much softer than expected. And the look on his face was one you’d never seen before. Concern? Regret? Shame? Alarm? “I need an honest answer to the next question I’m going to ask you,” his voice gained an edge but it was no longer near as intimidating as it had been a minute ago when he’d warned you to tread carefully, Val.

“We’ve been—together so to speak since—”

“You mean we’ve been fucking since the first night we met when 141 introduced me to you, yes,” you added shamelessly. Only you had expected that relationship to be a meaningless friends with benefits stress release on the battlefield. You two were the only Southern Americans on the blended unit and so you connected and you started fucking. Harmless, right? Now look where you were. You wondered just when Graves became obsessed with you.

Graves didn’t take comfort in your attempt at humor and again, you hadn’t smiled in over 3 months now so neither did you. You wanted to get to the bottom of what he was asking because you hated him questioning you about anything. It tended to bring back bad memories.

“Did I have you tortured while you were pregnant?” Graves asked. “How far along are you?”

And a tiny part of yourself wanted to make Graves to feel like shit for doing what he did to you. What had done to you had been war crimes. But the brainwashed part of yourself overwhelmed that rational part of your brain.

“I don’t know,” you responded. Besides, you were terrified of what he would do or what he would order his men to do to you if he found out you lied and said that yes you are 100 percent sure you had been pregnant when he’d had you tortured. “I’m between 2 and 3 months.”

“Holy shit,” Graves counted on shaky fingers. And then his gaze met yours when he made the connections in his brain. It was entirely possible that you were ether pregnant or became pregnant shortly after he’d had you tortured. “But that’s an estimate,”

“Yessir. Most likely between 2 and 3 months. I just didn’t show cuz…all the gear and the required exercise routine and I’m on the smaller side.”

“So there’s a possibility I—”

“I don’t think you tortured me while I was pregnant,” but were you really a hundred percent sure of that? The hospital had told you in clear words: “How far along you are right now is an estimate. You could be further along. The detention facility you’re going to is going to have to call in an OB to get your history and run other tests. We’re just not too confident in how far along you are other than to say you’re about 2-3 months.” Hell, you’d wondered back then if Graves had indeed had you tortured while you were pregnant.

But here you were again trying to protect him.

-

Graves had stepped out a while ago.

You were exhausted and your head pounded. You were again feeling sick and seriously fuck these hormones because you were teary-eyed again.

You cried yourself to sleep.

-

You dreamt of your initial captivity with Graves. When he was still having you tortured. Only at that point he had started introducing hypnotic and mind altering drugs to try and get you to break.

You were strapped down after you’d freaked out and pulled that IV out of your arm in a second attempt to take your life. You’d been beaten, tortured, sleep deprived, and now you were being drugged. A nurse practitioner and combat medic, Shadow 10-4, had been put in charge of balancing your medical needs and trying to get answers out of you using drugs.

Everything kept going from muffled to painfully sharp and loud. You were drifting in and out of consciousness although you probably looked unconscious to Graves who was standing in the room having a conversation with none other than his superior, Shepherd.

“She’s not gonna break, General,” Graves’s voice went to sounding far away to sounding like he was shouting in your face. He sat next to you. Right next to you and his weight, his scent, his presence made you want to get the hell away from him but you were restrained and you were getting more and more intoxicated off of whatever the hell they were pumping into your veins.

You tried to focus on the oxygen catheter pumping oxygen into your nose rather than Graves’s voice because Graves’s voice was nightmare fuel right now. He was the one commanding his men and telling them what to do when they ripped you apart looking for the codes to those homing beacons.

Your drugged out mind reminded you that there was a 10-year age gap between Graves and you. He was about 10 years older than you. The volume on his phone was set to be just loud enough to where you could hear it. So when he sat next to you to talk to his superior, your suddenly ultra sensitive ears picked up on what Shepherd was saying.

Or were you hallucinating?

“Keep the prisoner focused on their own self-preservation and eventually they will break.”

“General, we’ve broken men in hours and we’ve had her for days. She won’t break.” Graves paused before adding, “Let’s stop.”

“Now you’re outta your damn mind,” you heard Shepherd snap. “Stop letting your feelings for this brat cloud your judgement. She’s listed in your paperwork as an enemy combatant, is she not?” he demanded.

“Yes, sir, she is,” Graves conceded.

“Treat ‘er like one,” Shepherd ordered. “You haven’t done any of it yourself have you? Tortured her.”

“I give the order—”

“Not what I’m askin, soldier,”

“I can’t sir. I cannot.”

“Are you limiting your men in what they can do?” Shepherd sighed.

Graves didn’t answer.

“If she doesn’t break in the next day, I’m gonna come in and break her myself,”

-

You awoke with a start. When it came to these dreams, you weren’t sure if they were complete fabrications of your imagination or whether they were partially true or if they were something else entirely. Had Graves really wanted to stop trying to break you?

Now that you were back with Graves you reached towards the nightstand, looking for something. Graves’s men had shared with you a bad habit: vaping.

And when you found yourself getting emotionally overwhelmed, you found yourself doing two things: vaping and blasting music. But you didn’t have your headphones. For some reason, you hadn’t gotten those back from when you’d been detained. 141, the police, and the military had thought they might be wired as explosives.

You quickly learned that you didn’t have your vape either. If you knew Graves well, and you felt like you did, it was just one of the many minute details of your life that now Graves would ensure to have complete control over.

-

You were still trying to get used to Graves holding you just because he wanted to it seemed. It caused anxiety still because when he’d held you all those months ago it was to restrain you or hurt you. Even now you shook just slightly in his arms. Whether that was from fear, nicotine withdrawals, hormones, all of the above, or something else you did not know.

He still scared you and couldn’t he tell you were uncomfortable? It wasn’t like Graves to care. It seemed that your relationship would continue to be toxic, just in an entirely different way. Instead of being physically abusive, he was going to be physically and mentally overbearing. He would control every aspect of your existence and whenever that poor kid was born? Graves would control their existence, too.

“Why you hummin’, darlin’?” his voice made you jump. “Get your headphones and listen to something.”

“They didn’t give ‘em back to me when they handed me over to Shepherd,” you responded.

“That’s just fuckin’ cruel,” Graves commented. “No wonder you agreed to come back to me. Consider them replaced.”

“I can’t vape, can I?”

“No ma’am,” he drawled. “Took that shit before you even got back. That was a bad habit my boys taught ya.” He paused before adding, “I still wanna know why you didn’t talk. They were about to lock you up.”

“I wasn’t gonna betray the father of my child,” You said.

And just like that, Graves’s mood switched. “Shepherd was right,” he smirked. “You’d make great wife material.”

There was that word again: wife.

-

“I’ve got my boys staying here watching you,” Graves’s voice drew you out of a light slumber. Your eyes stung and you were nauseous. Graves’s kid hadn’t even been born yet and he was already giving you a hard time. “Plus I’ve got something for added security.”

And while you still did not completely feel safe around Graves’s men, they had saved your ass more than once in the field. You were too tired, too exhausted to talk. And you were scared that if you opened your mouth that you’d be sick.

One of the last things you heard was Graves telling one of his men just outside the door asking about you that you should be okay. Graves told him to just give you some space until he got back. That you felt warm and didn’t seem like you were feeling well.

The only thing you hoped for was that Graves would hold off on telling Shadow Company about the pending addition because while you somewhat trusted them to keep you safe, there was no fucking way in hell you’d trust any of those men with your child. Those men had beaten and tortured you for days on end.

Those were your last thoughts before you passed out from exhaustion.

-

The door squeaked open. It didn’t open much but someone or something slipped in. The bed dipped and you felt something wet on your face.

“Graves, c’mon man,”

Was he licking your face?!

“That’s Riley,”

You jumped up, covering yourself with the sheets. There was a large German Shepherd next to you, licking your face.

“Riley?” You remembered that 141 or it’s allies had a dog named Riley once.

Was it the same dog?

“It’s not the same dog,” Graves clarified. “I just named it the same just to fuck with ‘em,” he smirked.

You felt a twinge in your chest when you heard Graves said he still liked messing with 141.

“We’re not gonna get along,” Graves read your mind. “They took you from me and I don’t play that shit, sweetheart,”

“He’s mine?” Riley sniffed at your still-damp hair and it made you—

“All yours and you need to—” Graves looked at you and he paused, stop talking.

It took a moment to get Riley away.

“Now that’s somethin’ I’d pay to see more often,” Graves smiled genuinely.

You were confused. “What?”

“That smile,” Graves pointed out. “I haven’t seen that in 3 months.”

-

“It’s just air support,” Graves explained. “We have a lead on Makarov and chemical weapons he’s been stockpiling.”

And while you’d been playing with Riley on the floor of the conference room, smiling when he licked your face, Graves got your attention by calling your name.

“That’s where you and Riley come in,” Graves added.

Wait…Graves was expecting you to have boots on the ground when Makarov was involved?

“He’s not primarily an attack dog but will attack if you’re in danger. He’s mainly a bomb sniffing dog.”

After that, Riley wandered away thanks to Shadows offering treats and so he made his way around the table before returning to you and plopping down heavily in your lap. You turned the rest of the briefing out because even though you’d thought Graves was going to be removing you from the field entirely given your condition, he was basically putting you within Makarov’s reach.

And so you promised yourself that if Makarov captured you, you’d take yourself out, pregnant or not. There was no way you could repeat the whole capture, torture, breaking process. No way.

But you were convinced you knew Graves well, and you told yourself that since 141 got their hands on you and he almost lost you, he wasn’t willing to leave you behind anywhere. He was going to continue dragging you and your child all over the world if needed as long as he had you within arm’s reach.

Graves thought you were his property. And you were wondering if he would see his child as his property, as another way to control you.

You told yourself he would.

“You look nervous, darlin’” Graves smiled at you when you were the only two left in that large conference room. “I know just the thing to calm you down,” he winked suggestively.

[thelampisaflashlight]

Blue

[Dew deals with a wave of unwelcome emotions, but takes comfort in the company of a friend. Discusses grief and the death of a parent/parents with hints at past neglect/emotional abuse. It’s a rough one, but with a fairly positive/lighthearted ending. AKA, I hurt Dew, but I also give him some comfort.]

Dew hates the word “grief”, the rough sound of it, the way it seems keen on rhyming with something it’s not and never will be.

Brief.

Over the years, Dew has learned that grieving is not a linear process, it does not start and stop at a set time.

Nor does it, necessarily, fade.

Sometimes it’s lighter, easier to bear, pushed aside or drowned out by life.

And other times...

Dew can go a couple days without thinking of them.

Of his parents, of Mist.

But they’re always somewhere in the back of his mind.

The father who never loved him, who might still be alive but wouldn’t know his son from anyone else.

The mother who wanted him to be anyone but himself, who screamed and cried and blamed and hurt-

And Mist.

Mist hadn’t been gentle or sweet, but she had been honest, and she had been accepting in ways others had not.

His feelings towards her had always been... complicated.

Somewhere between admiration and adoration.

He yearned for her almost as much as he yearned to be her at times.

But it’s not her he’s mourning today.

It’s his mom.

And he hates it.

He hates that he has this tug in his heart, this want to be able to pick up a phone and just call her.

But he can’t.

And more than that, he hates the reason why he wants to talk to her.

It’s so stupid, so fucking mundane and small.

He doesn’t...

He doesn’t know what her favorite color is.

Was.

Whatever.

It shouldn’t be a big deal, it should just be another thing on the long ass fucking list of shit he doesn’t NEED to know or care about, because fuck that woman and everything she ever cared about...

...But it hurts.

It hurts, because he’ll never have the answer.

He’ll never have a solid resolution, and it’s just another reminder of just how much unresolved bullshit that bitch left behind when she-

His face feels hot, and he has to pinch his eyes shut as tears start to leak from them uncomfortably.

It pisses him off.

He’s so mad he wants to scream, but instead of a powerful, rage filled yell, the sound that comes out is more...

Pained.

Vulnerable.

Weirdly human.

And that only makes him feel worse.

So he curls into himself just a bit.

Enough so that his face is hidden between his knees and he’s certain nobody passing by can see him crying.

And that’s exactly the position Aether finds him in not long after.

Eyes still stinging.

Frustrated.

Angry.

And still so fucking-

Sad.

Aether doesn’t call out to him at first, doesn’t ask if he’s okay, because he knows by now that’s not what Dew wants or needs to hear when he’s like this.

Instead, Aether sits down beside him, slides his leg over to meet the side of Dew’s.

No hands keeping him there.

Minimal contact.

But a constant, steady warmth to let him know he’s not alone without making him feel trapped.

And they stay like that.

For half an hour, maybe a bit more.

Until Dew painfully unfolds himself, just enough to shove his face against Aether’s shoulder, still too uneasy to be held, but present enough to rub the crust from his nose onto the other’s shirt.

“Gross.” Aether hums, no heat or annoyance to his voice.

Dew presses his face in harder and rubs again.

“You wanna stop using me like a tissue and talk about it yet?” he asks, almost laughing when Dew pauses his aggressive wiping to think.

“...It’s kind of stupid.” Dew says, eyes beginning to water anew, voice breaking slightly, sitting his chin on the larger ghoul’s shoulder.

Aether tilts his head to meet the top of Dew’s.

“Stupid like Swiss trying to put out his burning toast in the toaster using water, or stupid like... complicated?”

Dew lifts his hands and then lowers them, sighing.

“...Stupid like... I miss somebody I hate for a stupid reason.”

Aether nuzzles his cheek against Dew’s hair.

“I wasn’t... I was just thinking about random shit, and I thought about... that I don’t...” he breathes softly, “...I got worked up because I don’t know what my mother’s favorite color was, and it pisses me off that I won’t ever get to know, even though I hate her.”

“I hate her so much, and the only fucking thing I can think of right now is that I don’t even know her favorite color...”

“Well... I like green.” Aether offers, carefully bringing a hand up to rub Dew’s back soothingly, “And Rain likes orange... Copia likes red, which feels a little obvious, but yeah...”

Dew blinks, “What?”

“You said you couldn’t think of anything else, so... we’re gonna make a list of things you do know, yeah?”

“...Yeah. Yeah, okay, let’s... let’s do that.” Dew furrows his brow, “Sunshine likes pink...”

Aether nods, “And yellow.”

“Strawberry lemonade colors...” Dew snorts.

“...Which also happens to be who’s favorite drink?”

“Swiss.” Dew mumbles, “He pretends like he doesn’t like it because it’s sweet, but he always pours two more sugar packets into his glass when nobody’s looking-”

[sugar-omi]

what are your general thoughts on step 3 baxter bc i was replaying OL1 and i trying hard not to cackle at the fact baxter is 19 years old in like 2016. bc all i can hear is halsey, p!atd, arctic monkeys when i look at him; it's giving tumblr, hot topic, that specific period of alt fashion. like he looks like a k-pop idol, but has a weirdly deep voice and overly formal way of speaking. like that is a rich sheltered gayboy emo nerd, not a suave daddy dom. his ass is grass and mc is gonna mow it. i'm saying i find his whole aesthetic ridiculous even tho i do have a soft spot for his fear of emotional vulnerability.

LMAOOO NO I READ THE HALSEY, P!ATD, N ARCTIC MONKEYS AND YOU LITERALLY DESCRIBED MY MUSIC TASTE IN 2016-18 PLS JUST ADD MCR AND I AM IN RUINS.....

OMG STOP "HIS ASS IS GRASS AND MC IS GONNA MOW IT" PLS I LOVE YOU YOUR /WORDS/ IM ACTUALLY CRYING

honestly the only reason i don't clown him is bc I think him being older is 🥵🫣 but yeah I had to laugh when they called me Pepe le pew and Victorian emo man

I was literally getting ready to go out the one day after playing the dlc, and was trying not to fuck up my eyeliner from laughing bc pepe le pew is abnormally funny n idek what or who that is

HONESTLY I WAS SO GRATEFUL WHEN HE CHANGED CLOTHES

I COULD GET BEHIND THE SHIRT BUT THOSE PANTS.....

take em off

OH NO WHAT DO YOU THINK HIS UNDERWEAR LOOKED LIKE.... ik in step 4 he had fall leaves on his butt but what abt step 3.... im afraid 😟

okay I totally almost forgot your question, thank god I read things like 5 times before I'm sure I'm not missing smth but general thoughts....

well first thoughts was "who tf is this flirting w my man🤨"

now it's "who let this vampire out the house" bc baxter is so pale... pls I feel like if I put a firefly on him he'd burn like?!)!&*!^!??

final thought: "are you still looking to be sandwiched" bc poly cove/baxter/mc sounds PERFECT for all my issues (will never recover from the dialogue being different if you have cove at fond or crush when you start dating baxter.....)

also I'd like to eat him, did I say that alrdy? well I'd like to shrink him n nibble on him

OH MY GOD THATS OFF TRACK OK STEP 3 BAXTER THO. ID LIKE TO GRAB HIS FACE N YELL AT HIM

knowing he's going to break my heart...... pls... 5 moments wasn't enough imma need reimbursement for this heartache

I wanna sneak into his condo and lay in bed w him and make him laugh until he falls asleep n then I wanna wake him up w breakfast and then I wanna go on a lil stargazing date n walk along the edge of the water, the water only touching his feet when the wave goes up shore

n I wanna find all his lil freckles and moles n count them n be all close n tell him he's pretty like the moon and I wanna put on some song idk the lyrics to bc it's some Spanish love song or smth and make him dance w me even tho the most I can do is spin I a circle and circle literally one hip

and I wanna take him on a long drive w his dumb metal music blasting n make him yell it out w me and I wanna feed him his dumb fries w pie or whatever it was and I wanna make him lay in the grass w me and I wanna go build a dumb sandcastle and get him a silly lil toy that's prbly meant for kids n giggle abt it for a stupid amount of time and when we get home laugh abt it some more and i wanna play my dumb instrument and sing him a dumb song n AKAJHAGA I JUST WANT A FUCKJNG COMING OF AGE MOVIE W HIM I AM JAGADFALAH LOSING MY SHIT

okay.

I'm normal 🧍 ... I like this man a Regular amount

[relicsongmel]

you should. tell me your thoughts about ray shields

OH GOD OH FUCK OKAY IF YOU INSIST. I hope you’re ready cause hooooo boy do I have some for you HERE WE GOOOO

Where the hell do I even start. Raymond Shields…my ray of light. My hotshot wonder. My weirdgirl king. I guess before anything else I’ll tell you about how this man absolutely blindsided me—Uncle Ray put your friend Mel through a turnabout of her own and she’s gonna explain how it happened so buckle in. I’ll try to make this as coherent as possible but I need you to understand this man has way too much power over me and a single fleeting thought of him can melt my brain into mush so. Apologies if this comes out as completely nonsensical it’s his fault not mine

I’ve been in the Ace Attorney fandom for a little over a year and had a couple of things accidentally spoiled for me as a result (some of which was my own fault, admittedly) but when I started Investigations 2 last September all I knew about Ray was his name and (sort of) what he looked like. Like a lot of English-speaking fans, I was initially put off by his portrayal in the localization. This immediately stuck out as odd to me because my personality is such that I don’t have a lot of characters I genuinely dislike, especially if they’re part of the main cast—even if they’re not my favorite I can almost always find something to love about them. It made me wonder if maybe some of his quirks got lost in translation somewhere (and I did find out later that this was indeed the case), but I didn’t actively seek out that information at the time for fear of being spoiled, so I just suffered through the early parts of The Imprisoned Turnabout doing my best to ignore what I perceived as questionable behavior on his part.

However, if I’ve learned anything from my time in this fandom it’s that nothing in Ace Attorney is surface level—one of my FAVORITE things to do when playing this series besides voice acting the characters is figuring out what makes them tick and speculating character motivations as the game progresses using the little hints scattered by the writers here and there—I was already somewhat intrigued by Ray’s apparent grudge toward Miles but when the revelation of his partnership with Gregory dropped my brain immediately went BRRRRRRRRR. I started wondering what that experience of working for him was like and how it affected him (and if his unwavering loyalty to Gregory was related to his grudge toward Miles). I started exploring the whole WEB of parallels between him and Gregory and Miles and Phoenix and Mia and Maya and Kay (and probably more but those are the main ones). I fell in love with the beautiful mentor-student relationship he developed with Miles, even if in the moment I was baffled by the weirdly flirty things Ray sometimes says to him (like the line about swapping clothes in the Winter Palace. What the fuck was that about sir) and VERY confused/worried about whether Miles had met him as a child or not (I still don’t know/can’t remember if the game ever gave us a concrete answer on this btw—if any of you know please do enlighten me). And above all I knew—I KNEW that he was hiding a boatload of trauma regarding the DL-6 incident; made even more clear to me by the contrast between his teen and adult selves once I got to The Inherited Turnabout. I knew he was using humor as a mask to hide the pain of what happened. I knew from the fact he still had Greg’s old coat and wore his hat every day that he hadn’t moved on. This, I thought to myself, is a deeply emotional man deathly afraid of emotional vulnerability haunted by the ghost of a loved one. And let me tell you, as someone who’s been in a similar position myself, to say that really struck a chord with me is an understatement.

AND THEN THE THIRST. Oh boy. If I’ve sounded really eloquent up until now that shit’s about to go out the goddamn window because SWEET MOTHER MARY I AM DOWN SO BAD IT’S EMBARRASSING. I recorded my playthrough starting from Chapter 2 (just for fun—I’m not nearly brave enough to post any of it on the internet except maybe some short clips here and there) and you can literally see the clear turning point I had after hearing his Objection voice for the first time. I started making innuendos left and right (IT’S NOT MY FAULT his dialogue lends itself really well to that sort of thing ok). In true Ray Shields fashion it started half as a joke but devolved into absolute chaos. This coupled with the fact that I was slowly but surely becoming more invested in the inner conflict of his character? I was beyond saving at that point. No hope for me. Nothing left but to leap into Uncle Ray’s arms and let them wander where they will. “Ride that stallion into the sunrise,” as it were. I could go on but quite frankly the things I want that man to do to me (and what I want to do to him) are too unholy for this world so I’ll leave it there.

And that’s the story of how Raymond Shields permanently infected my brain. It’s been an absolutely wild ride but I hope you enjoyed the journey—glad we can share our love of this silly disastrous emotionally repressed paper-eating man together <3

[paralyze-fic]

Paralyze.

Chapter 28

Today was the last day we had to practice our special moves, and I was getting a bit impatient.

I couldn't do this fucking move!

I sighed trying to relax and I stared at Ectoplasm's clone, stopping the arms was out of the question -something I didn't realize yesterday- so I focused on his legs, I mentally "joined" his right leg with mine, and moved it back, but the clone didn't move at all, and my body slouched.

"It useless... I can't do it," I tried to think harder, how can I make my Puppeteer move work?

Maybe if I...? No, why would that work? That's ridiculous... unless...

I'm gonna try it.

I locked my eyes onto Ectoplasm's right leg again, but this time, instead of "joining" it with my own right leg, I did it with my left leg. And I took a step backwards, hoping it would move back as well.

"What...?" The clone's leg moved too, but it went forward.

I did it... but now...

I joined his left leg with my right and took some steps forward. The clone was backing away with shaky legs. "It's this you, (L/n)?" I just nodded happily, snickering and jumping.

"Sorry!" I exclaimed when he jumped too and almost fell onto his butt.

I have them all down. I just have to master them all.

//////

The bus stopped as we arrived at the place where we were going to take the exam so we could get our provisional licence.

"I'm kind of nervous, guys." I looked to my right, where Eijiro was smiling at Katsuki and me, it was a nervous smile but it was noticeable if you knew the red-headed male well enough. I won't lie, I was nervous as well, that much was obvious.

Some days ago, Katsuki came up to me and argued about how I began calling him by his last name again. He said that I was making everything more awkward than it should be by doing so, and he coaxed me into calling him by his first name again.

It was easier than I thought, and even if there was this tiny bit of awkwardness whenever we were alone in a room for too long, it wasn't unbearable.

"Why are you nervous? We'll pass this shitty exam." Katsuki placed his hand on my shoulder and shook me slightly, he had a small smile on his face, and I smiled back at him.

Looking around I saw a tall guy with a buzz cut and blood dripping down his forehead, making me stare as I felt slightly concerned.

Is he okay?

He exclaimed something, put on his hat and left with his school.

That's when I heard a woman's voice, well, everyone did, "Eraser? Is that you, Eraser? I saw you on TV during the sports festival, but it's been a while since I saw you in person." The woman had green hair and a colourful costume, she looked quite familiar, and her steps stopped in front of Aizawa. "Let's get married."

I could just stare at her weirdly. What the...? "No."

The way Aizawa and she were "talking" made me laugh a little, it was weird, yet funny.

When Aizawa said her Hero name, 'Joke', Izuku got excited and explained who she was and then Ms.Joke said a thing about what marrying her and having a happy family who would never stop laughing would be like.

She was so weird... and nice.

"She's kind of cute," I heard Eijiro mumble to himself and I nodded a bit.

"Come here guys, it's U.A.!" Joke was calling behind her, and I saw more students wearing grey uniforms.

A black-haired guy caught my attention, he kind of looked like Izuku.

"I'm Shindo, U.A. has had many problems this year, must have been hard." He held Izuku's hands and spoke cheerfully, "But still, you keep trying to become heroes like us," now he moved to hold Kaminari's hand, "Wonderful," and then he went to Jiro, "A strong heart it's what every hero should have."

This guy appeared to be sparkling and I swore I saw some flowers behind him, but when he looked at me, his expression changed.

Shindo approached me and held my hands too, but he intertwined our fingers. The way his eyes were staring at me made me feel nervous and vulnerable, as if I was the prey about to be hunted.

"What's your name, cutie?" One of his hands released mine and reached up to caress my face.

"Uh...eh um, I..." his face got closer to me making me awkwardly shift. This Shindo guy was extremely close to me and I didn't like it.

"Back the fuck up from him!" Katsuki pushed him and stood in front of me, like he was protecting me, and Eijiro did the same, standing by my side instead, simply stretching his arm out in front of my body.

"Hey, hey, I was trying to know his name, there's no need to get so aggressive... Bakugou Katsuki." He had a smirk on his face while staring into Katsuki's eyes, "Well, I should've known that such a handsome man would already have a boyfriend." I heard Katsuki 'tsk' at Shindo's words, and that made me assume that he didn't like that statement.

"He's not my boyfriend," Katsuki looked at me over his shoulder, his eyes were wide and I noticed a weird shine in them.

He seemed sad or rather... heartbroken.

"Oh~" Shindo chuckled and stared at me, "I'll see you later then, (M/n)-chan." He turned around, waving his hand at me and heading towards his classmates. So he did know my name, after all.

"What was that?!" Katsuki turned to me setting off a small explosion. That made me back away a bit.

"What do you-?"

"He was clearly flirting with you and you did nothing!" His booming voice had caught our classmates' attention and some other students passing by stared at us too.

"Bakugou, calm down, it's not your problem," Eijiro rested his hand on Katsuki's shoulder, pushing him back. "It's not like he's your boyfriend, anyway." The redhead tried to whisper into the blonde's ear, but it didn't turn out too well, because I was able to hear it.

Katsuki looked at Eijiro with a frown and then at me, his frown fading almost immediately, but it came back as he turned around to leave. Aizawa called after him, telling him to wait.

"Well, go to the changing room and your orientation. Don't waste time." Aizawa said to us as he followed Katsuki.

Everybody followed our homeroom teacher, but I held Eijiro's sleeve, tugging on it to prevent him from leaving. I wanted to ask him something,

"Eiji... what did you mean by that?" He tore his eyes from the direction Katsuki went and looked at me.

"About what?"

"About me not being his boyfriend... what did you mean?" His red eyes went wide and he chuckled nervously scratching the back of his head.

"Oh, that was nothing really, just..." he got suddenly serious and stared into my eyes, "You don't know, do you?"

Now I was more confused.

"Know what?" For a second Eijiro seemed to have a look of pity in his eyes, but he looked down.

"You really are dumb sometimes, did you know?"

What did I do now?

I could just stare dumbfounded at the spiky red-headed friend of mine as he jogged towards Katsuki, who seemed mad yet depressed. He had a menacing aura around him, making all the students -even teachers and pro heroes- back away as far as possible from the explosive blond.

"Come on, (M/n)-kun. We have to go." Izuku placed his hand on my back, pushing me slightly ahead, waking me from my trance.

I looked at him and nodded trying to smile at him, but it felt more like a grimace.

Iida and Uraraka were some steps ahead waiting for us, and I began walking slowly after Izuku, still thinking about what Eijiro said and Katsuki's reaction to the whole situation.

What was that supposed to mean...?

[red-panda-agere]

I'm not sure if you usually take asks, but I will die for any headcanons you have on Little Yoomtah or Little Zora. Please. I know some people headcanon that Zora uses her epithet to turn herself back to be that size, but I want to know your opinions. I'm sorry if this sounds awkward. I'm just not really used to talking about this side of things. I'm glad you're a safespace and show it proudly!

ฅ(•ㅅ•❀)ฅ

I’ve literally been avoiding talking about these two because I’ve been worried nobody wants these headcanons, I’ve never been so happy to get an ask, Epithet is my biggest interest and has been for over a year now, ESPECIALLY BLISS OCEAN!!!

SO I HAVE FAR TOO MUCH TO SAY AND I APOLOGIZE IN ADVANCE SO EXCITED TO TALK ABOUT THESE TWO (but I’ll try to keep it short!)

(I will not be talking about Anime Campaign, as much as I want to,,,)

Regressor! Zora Salazar

Headspace range of 2-5

Yes, on occasion she likes to use her epithet to physically regress herself but if she’s with anybody else she refuses to let herself be physically small, especially when she’s already unbelievably mentally vulnerable as well. Ontop of this, if she’s ever with Yoomtah or someone else who’s regressed, she doesn’t want to make them feel bad or upset since they can’t just do the same as her. So, Zora usually only uses her epithet to regress when she’s alone.

I feel like she’d use her epithet to age herself down just to go play at the park by herself, and not feel out of place, or like the swings were too small. She gets a bit sad though when she does something she thinks is cool but can’t turn around to see if her mom or dad saw her do it.

Even when only mentally regressing, it can be the result of a meltdown, Zora bottling up her emotions and refusing to regress as much as possible. She will put off regressing for as long as possible, enjoying being regressed but dislikes the fact she enjoys it. Being vulnerable is very hard for her, even when she’s alone. She will eventually hide in a blanket fort and cuddle her wolf stuffies and color, crying while doing so as she guiltily tries to make herself feel better.

Teethes and chews on anything and everything. She really likes more rubbery things though, pacifiers and chewlery, but will chew on blankies or stuffies when those aren’t available.

She hides her pacifier under her scarf or hat when regressed, but still in uniform, even though nobody would be around.

Not very verbal when little

Needs a nightlight to sleep when little

She melts at the nicknames “sunshine” “little lady” and things like “lil bugger” or just “kiddo.”

Her prized stuffed animal is a Build-a-Bear wolf named “Silver.” He has voice boxes in his paws from her ‘co-workers’ telling her how loved she is. The one from Yoomtah is more silly than the other three, and weirdly a bit static-y for some reason.

Honestly just a pretty chill little one when she’s regressed. Compared to other little ones, she’s honestly okay with anything, and is only really emotional if she’s been caught regressing or a caregiver is trying to help her regress. Afterwards, she’s okay with a lazy day of cuddles at home but still excitable when she’s asked if she’d like to play or go on a zoo trip.

When overwhelmed, she likes to hide in pillow forts alone by herself and look through story books or play Pokemon.

She really likes playing with Calico Critters. The texture of the Calico Critters makes her really happy, and the fact they’re animals just makes her ten times happier.

Zora would shoot you in the back with a Nerf gun and evil giggle to herself.

Wears blankets around like they’re ponchos or capes.

Sometimes she just has days where she likes sitting in caregiver’s laps when she can, or at least next to them, hiding her face in their neck. If it’s mentioned, or even acknowledged she will sit back up so fast.

She has really bad and vivid nightmares about her parents that usually leave her regressed pretty small and crying into her baby blanket. The baby blanket is one she’s had since she was a baby, her mother making the blanket for her, quilting the sun and sheep patterns into it. It’s one of the few items she took with after her parents were killed.

Avoids baths at all costs

Dinosaur nuggets

Doesn’t really do “little clothes,” but she does enjoy baggy t-shirts and pajama bottoms.

Loves playing outside when little, but not really in Sweet Jazz, unless it’s beach season. She’d much rather be running around the woods, finding cool rocks and showing anyone with her the cool mushrooms she found (but didn’t touch).

She prefers apple cider when a caregiver decides to give her a bottle before bed.

Loves talking about dinosaurs

She enjoys Sherrif Callie’s Wild West, but will usually prefer older movies like Care Bears or The Land Before Time.

Regressor! Yoomtah Zing

Headspace 3-6

She adores playing dress up, especially when she gets Zora to join. They like playing “Dragon and Princess” but they end up arguing over who gets to be the dragon sometimes so they just play dragons.

Invites Zora to all of her tea parties and treats Silver as “the honored guest” every time. When she has tea parties on her own or with just her caregiver, she has elaborate drama between all of her stuffed animals. She can’t have ‘pretend’ tea parties either, there’s always sugar cookies or snacks of some kind, and usually soda or strawberry milk in the teapot. She thinks most tea tastes too bland.

Always has Bluey, My Little Pony, or some cartoon on in the background

She loves finger painting and likes giving everyone in Bliss Ocean one of her masterpieces so she can receive praise.

Near impossible to make her upset or find her fussy

She probably tries to eat things she shouldn’t. (In all honesty, she probably does this normally but ESPECIALLY when little she needs to have a watchful eye on her.)

Releases Zhu Zhu pets into rooms without warning

She can sit still for hours if you give her enough bracelet making materials, especially rainbow loom.

She enjoys loud toys a bunch, but understands that Zora gets overwhelmed by them when they’re together.

Zoobles

She really likes pink lemonade and strawberry milk.

iPad baby

Her assortment of toys is really varied and random. You could find an original gen 1 My Little Pony toy and then stumble upon the newest Hot-Wheels set.

She has a Furby that is almost always in her hands, as well as a collection of animatronic animals. Some of her favorites are her iDog, Hatchimal, Little Live Pet turtle, and a Furreal Friends Alicorn (just to name a few.)

If possible, she becomes even more energetic when regressed (and more impatient/lh)

Will wear onsies, dresses, skirts, overalls - whatever, she’s not picky about clothes, just impatient when they’re being chosen for her.

Yoomtah is alot less shameless about her regression than Zora and will ask everyone in the headquarters to play with her.

When Zora feels extra little, Yoomtah likes to act as the big sister, and sometimes babbles nonsense at the regressed cowgirl if she babbles first, and pretends to have full conversations with her in baby talk.

When Zora is being really stubborn about regressing, Yoomtah is really good at getting her to relax, not prying or asking things like ‘how old are you right now?’ or ‘do you feel little?’ She just walks in and asks her what she wants to play, or if she wants to come build a sand castle with her.

Yoomtah and Zora seem to have some sort of secret, silent code, and Yoomtah can always understand what Zora wants even if she doesn’t speak. Not even Zora knows how Yoomtah does this, because sometimes she’ll ask for something for her and Zora won’t even realize she wanted it until it’s given to her.

She and Zora will often just sit and talk about animals they like. Zora really likes talking about canines and animals on land, while Yoomtah knows far too much about microorganisms and alien sharks. They probably watch Wild Kratts and Octonauts together.

[riotwritesthings]

Any Time, Every Time

Kodiak/Ambrose, T, 1.5k - T, 1.5k - Fluff, Humor, Confessions, Missing Scene, slight angst, banter

two boys in space, a confession of things already known, and a promise for any future that may come

That’s right it’s fanfic of The Darkness Outside Us. because I literally could not stop myself.

When does this take place? You know, on the ship. Somewhere in space. But we're just trying to have a nice dinner and not think about that.

Let's just say if you haven't read the book, probably do that first. Plz. It's so good and everyone deserves an untainted read haha

(also, IM SORRY this isn't anything you were probably expecting. but THIS BOOK YALL I couldn't stop, read it maybe because I cannot be in this pain alone.)

-

“I’m in love with you,” Kodiak declares one day, completely out of the blue.

Ambrose nearly spits sans serif water all over the place. When he turns to the other boy, still coughing, he’s somehow unsurprised to find that Kodiak has an almost sullen look on his face, jaw clenched stubbornly.

Ambrose opens his mouth and then shuts it again. “What?“ He finally croaks.

“I’m in love with you,” Kodiak repeats, just as flatly as the first time. This time he also raises one eyebrow, which means he’s questioning Ambrose’s supposed intelligence.

”What?“ Ambrose finds himself saying again, and maybe he isn’t as smart as he always thought.

Because it’s not really a surprise, is it?

They’ve both known this was coming, they’ve known it for weeks. They heard the same message, like a prophecy, and it’s hard to deny something said in their own voices, said by them. Not that Ambrose has tried, why would he? The sad truth is love is all he’s ever wanted, after all, and he’s felt it happening. He’s felt it growing in his own chest, familiar and new and huge, terrifying to put a name to even though he already knows.

Actually hearing it, though, hearing that he’s loved and believing it, threatens to knock loose something brittle and sharp in his chest. Ambrose finds that he can’t say a thing in response, he can’t even catch his breath to try.

Kodiak sighs heavily, but there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. ”It’s the only explanation,“ he says dryly and leans across the table to take the leaking water pouch from Ambrose’s numb hand.

”Oh,“ Ambrose says slowly, his heart racing. He finds a smile spreading across his face, so wide it almost hurts, ”You ran all the data, did you?“

”I did,“ Kodiak agrees, ”and unfortunately I came to the same conclusion every time.“

“That was a joke,” Ambrose accuses and his voice still comes out weirdly breathless, awed.

”I do not joke,“ Kodiak insists for the hundredth time, “Now who is being evasive?”

That startles a shaking laugh out of him because Kodiak is right. He’s usually the one reminding himself 'vulnerability, Ambrose’, and trying to drag Kodiak along with him, and when did his shipmate get so brave? Ambrose’s heart feels too big for his chest, so full that it’s hard to breathe around.

“So you ran the data,” he says encouragingly because there’s no way he’s letting Kodiak stop, now.

“Yes,” Kodiak says, squaring his shoulders like this is another mission he’s determined to accomplish. “You are confusing and unbearable, and I am very in love with you.”

”You-“ Ambrose laughs, emotion clogging his throat again, ”You’re supposed to say nice things.“

“You are perfect,” Kodiak shoots back instantly, still with that stubborn set to his jaw even though there’s a flush rising in his pale cheeks. “You’re smart, kind, beautiful, you are nothing like I could have expected, and you are perfect.”

“Oh,” Ambrose says again and then blinks rapidly, telling himself that his eyes aren’t wet.

“Considering the data,” Kodiak continues, rolling his eyes and clearly trying to fight down a grin before he abruptly goes serious, “And considering our situation… I feel confident to say that I will love you for the rest of my life. Until we lose to the dangers of space or our murderous OS.”

“I would not murder you,” the OS says, but Ambrose ignores it. The ship is currently using the Devon Munjaba voice-skin, because he wanted to annoy Kodiak earlier, and it’s easier to tune out than his mother’s voice.

“And after that,” Kodiak says, his voice gone quiet and rough as he mentions the thing they don’t mention, “I will love you then, too.”

Ambrose has to choke down a sob that rises suddenly in his chest because they don’t talk about this. But he knows it’s true, if they…

If there’s a next time, when they’re them-but-not-them, Kodiak will love him. Kodiak will argue with him and piss him off, Kodiak will make him laugh and keep him sane. Kodiak will see him and love him. And Ambrose-

“I- I love you too, you know,” he stutters out quickly when he realizes that he hasn’t said it yet.

“Of course,” Kodiak says, puffing up his chest proudly and lifting one strong arm to flex the muscle. Ambrose laughs and he immediately deflates again, grinning, but there’s insecurity in the curl of his shoulders.

“I’m in love with you, Kodiak Celius,” Ambrose says again, meeting Kodiak’s gaze steadily to try and make sure he knows it. “I don’t have to run the data, I love you.“

”Sloppy work,“ Kodiak accuses, but his voice is thick and Ambrose won’t be deterred.

”Even if I didn’t know it, I would love you,” he promises, ”and on this ship, that’s one of the few things I’m sure of.“

Kodiak is starting to look a little panicky, like this is too much for his stoic sensibilities. He’s popping his knuckles beneath the table, Ambrose recognizes the motion of it, so he decides to have a little mercy.

“Even if you do drive me a little crazy,” he adds with a fond smile, “and even if you are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”

“No I’m not,” Kodiak says, stubbornly, and Ambrose grins wider.

“You’re annoying,” he informs Kodiak happily, “and I love you.”

“You’re going to be more unbearable now,” Kodiak says with a sigh.

“But you love me.”

“But I love you,” Kodiak agrees, ducking his chin, but that doesn’t hide his wide smile or the flush across the bridge of his nose.

Kodiak returns to scooping noodles out of his food pouch, apparently satisfied that his conversational mission is accomplished. Ambrose follows his lead and they finish eating in a warm, comfortable silence. Although it is kind of hard to chew when Ambrose can’t stop grinning.

When he finishes Kodiak tips his chair back and stretches his arms up above his head with a deep, happy sigh. He smirks at Ambrose openly watching him do it, then as he drops his arms he smiles sweetly and asks, “Can I have some tea, please?”

“You know how to make tea by now, I know you do,” Ambrose points out, pretending he’s very busy scooping up the last remains of his food.

“Yes, but I like the way you make it,” Kodiak says shamelessly.

“You’re going soft on me,” Ambrose accuses, narrowing his eyes, but still pushes himself up from the table and moves towards the cabinets. He waits a couple of seconds while Kodiak makes exaggerated offended noises, then adds, “And I love you.”

Behind him, Kodiak lets out a loud groan of complaint that fades into a soft laugh. Ambrose smiles into the selection of tea.

Later, laying on the couch, something occurs to him.

They’re ignoring the OS’s occasional, pointed comments about the task list to instead watch more old reels that Kodiak hasn’t seen and gets way too into. Ambrose is fully expecting to be questioned about the motives of every single character later. Kodiak’s head is pillowed on his stomach, one hand stretched up to rest over his heart, and Ambrose is so full of love that he could burst.

He has to put it into words. He has to say something more, something important, meaningful. He has the words, he can feel them bubbling up his throat and making his chest tight.

He considers not saying it, keeping it just for himself. Just his and Minerva’s. But she’s… she’s gone. They’re gone, Titan far behind them, it’s just the two of them and Kodiak deserves to know.

“As long as I’m alive, someone loves you,” Ambrose says softly, thinking back to the promise that was made to him all those years ago. How much it meant, how much it kept him going.

Kodiak doesn’t respond, but Ambrose can feel it when his breath catches slightly and his grip on Ambrose’s shirt tightens. His eyes are bright where they’re still fixed on the reel, clearly not seeing a thing, and Ambrose buries his fingers in Kodiak’s soft hair.

“Any time I’m alive, someone loves you,” he adds in a whisper, soft enough that they can pretend the OS can’t hear them.

A soft, hurt sound escapes Kodiak and he turns his face down against Ambrose’s stomach, clutching at him tighter. “Every time,” he promises, his breath warm and shaking against Ambrose’s skin through his shirt.

When the reel is over Kodiad does have about a dozen questions about the logistics of the talking animals. He asks them all with his chin resting on Ambrose’s chest, grinning up at him, and Ambrose does his best to answer.

”Once again, you are putting way too much thought into this,“ he finally says with a laugh that bounces Kodiak slightly in place, ”and I love you.“

”And you’re not putting enough,“ Kodiak shoots back, eyes shining, ”but I love you anyways.“