#TO BE FAIR TO ME. A FAIR AMOUNT MIGHT NOT FEEL NECESSARY IF I COULD JUST. WRITE THE WHOLE THING

[toytulini]

the 3 miles of disclaimers i feel compelled to write to ramble about my oc

[vixstarria]

Intimacy

Hello friends, have some soft Act 2 Astarion.  

Astarion’s struggle with sex and intimacy. Connected with my other fics but is a standalone, per usual. 

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, soft Astarion 

Hurt/comfort, some fluff if you squint, love, angst, mutual pining, Act 2 spoilers, some fairly softcore smut 

Approximately 1,600 words. 

AO3

“I have no idea what we’re doing,” he told you. You’d replayed that conversation over and over countless times in your mind, since.  

You had no idea what you were doing either. Oh, navigating an ordinary relationship was simple enough, and you’d had your fair share of those – even if they’d all ended in disappointment at best, so far. Being with someone who’d just escaped 200 years of abuse, however... That was something new.  

“I don't think I want you to think of me in terms of sex.” 

Well that was a fuck-up. He was walking sex. ...Most likely due to sheer force of habit, so necessary for survival over all those years, but still.  

“I love you.” 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...  

You were in over your head too. Completely. Hopelessly. In love with this catastrophe of a man.  

What were you to do with him now?  

Wait for him to take the lead in every physical interaction? It wasn’t in your nature to be so passive. He knew this. And you were sure he would love to be treated like spurned glass all of a sudden.  

Continue as you were? Even though now all you could think about was whether a touch might bring up a repulsive memory? Assume that you could singlehandedly overwrite centuries of disgust and loathing, overnight? How presumptuous and overbearing that would have been. 

Communicate? Ask? Listen? Sure. Absolutely. You did. Or tried, anyway. You were about as good at talking about these things as he was. And you didn’t really trust him to be completely honest at this point. Whether with you or his own self.  

And so you explored. Slowly, cautiously and attentively.

 

The most innocent touches seemed to bring him an inordinate amount of joy. You weren’t surprised.  

Passing him a vial of poison for his weapons and letting your fingers brush and caress one another’s, briefly. Wordlessly running a stray hand along his waist and planting a quick kiss under his ear while you walked past him as he stood talking with someone. Lingering with your foreheads or noses touching lightly after a kiss.

 

He leaped at any opportunity to massage your sore muscles or help you apply a salve, and you let him. It seemed he wanted to take care of you, and was working out all the ways how.  

He still pleasured you in different ways, at times.  

“You don’t have to...” 

“I want to,” he said. 

He just chose to keep his own pants on, now. You weren’t sure about his motivations. Could it be guilt? Or a misguided sense of self-worth? Did he still think this is all he was good for? Or, maybe you were completely overthinking it, and he was still just desperately horny, even if taking a step back. He was more present than before though, you could tell that much. 

You considered his reactions to other forms of touch, careful not to make your observation obvious. 

He hated being scratched. The entire area of his back covered in scars was off-limits for anything but embraces. He enjoyed playful bites, both giving and receiving. And more than anything, he loved holding you close, feeling as much of your body at once as possible, basking in its warmth.  

In turn, you were more than happy to wrap yourself around him when you could. 

“Why do you even like this?” he asked, apprehensive about it at first. “You don’t need to pretend for my sake. I can’t give you any warmth.” 

“I can give you mine,” you said, simply. “Besides, you obviously don’t remember what it’s like to lie in a puddle of sweat with someone who runs hot. This is a nice change.” you added after a moment of contemplation.  

You meant what you said, but you were dying to drag him into a hot bath, just to know what it would feel like for him to be warmed through. Maybe you’d get the chance once you got to Baldur’s Gate.

 

There happened to be a private room available at Last Light Inn that night. The group unanimously agreed that you and Astarion would take it, while the rest of your companions bunked in the common. 

“For Shar’s sake, piss off, none of us want to see or hear you two,” were the exact words of their blessing, delivered by Shadowheart. Karlach sanctified it by throwing a (deftly dodged) half-eaten apple at Astarion’s head.  

“Especially not hear!”

 

“I know this may come as a shock, but I’m actually not too fond of beds,” he said. 

“New memories, Astarion,” you shook your head. “Beds are non-negotiable. I wasn’t too fond of rutting in the dirt either.” 

“I’ll never grow tired of how poetic you are,” he smiled, unceremoniously throwing his gear on the floor. “New memories, you say?” 

A while later, you were straddling Astarion’s hips as he sat shirtless on the edge of the bed. 

“You know, you never did tell me what you like,” you sighed, your fingers in his hair as he kissed your neck.   

“Oh, what does anyone like? It’s all the same in the end,” he said, running his hands along your thighs. 

“That’s not true,” you murmured in his ear. “I can show you some things that are pretty unique to you right now,” you said and ran the tip of your tongue along the lower inner edge of his ear, making him shudder and let out a small moan.  

“You little devil, when did you figure that out?” he breathed.  

“When I happened to brush your ear a while back, like this,” you giggled, repeating the hand movement on his other ear, making him catch his breath slightly again, “and you just about started purring.” 

He just chuckled in response. 

“So what other secrets are you hiding?” you purred, kissing around his ear. “I might just need to kiss and caress every inch of your body to find out.” 

"Sounds like a terrible chore,” he said, falling back onto the bed and pulling you with him. “You don’t want to do that.” 

“Shut up and let me cherish you.” 

You kissed down along one side his neck, slowly, taking your time, pausing to lightly lick or nibble on any spot that made him hitch his breath. He was putty in your hands by the time you reached his collarbone. 

“Just don’t go any lower,” he said breathlessly. 

You hummed your agreement. You couldn’t handle going any lower yourself – you were completely intoxicated with the scent of his skin and the sound of his sighs of pleasure, if you went any lower, you would keep going, and you didn’t think it was a day for that yet.  

You continued up the other side of his neck instead.  

You hesitated for a moment before your lips reached the bite marks left by Cazador, but Astarion made no indication that he didn’t want you to keep going, and so you continued. He let out a soft whimper as your lips brushed the scars. 

“No?” you pulled back slightly, your hot breath still on his skin. He was lying with his eyes shut, head thrown back, neck completely exposed to you. 

“Yes...” he whispered, hoarsely. “Very yes... Softly...” 

You continued, lingering with your lips on the scars, as his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, snapping them against his own and grinding you against an unmistakable erection. 

“I want you to make those marks your own... Yours and no one else’s...” he rasped. 

This is probably a mistake, you thought, but you could barely help yourself as you moaned into his neck and ran your tongue over the scars, making him growl and grind you into himself harder. The friction, the knowledge that he wanted it too was driving you mad.  

“I’m going to come if you don’t stop that,” you begged. 

“Go ahead,” he groaned. 

“Not without you.” 

Something in the energy changed then, and you lifted yourself off him, sitting up. Astarion stayed on his back a moment longer, before exhaling and also raising himself into a sitting position. You were still on his lap, facing him.  

“Listen,” he took your face in both hands, looking into your eyes intensely. “I want you so fucking bad, it hurts. I want to tear your clothes off and ravage you until you’re speaking in tongues. I do.” His voice was hoarse. He paused, before continuing. “But even more than that, I want to remember this, remember you, and not have any of the dirt from my past mixed into it. It’s difficult enough to keep it at bay as it is.” His eyes teared up at that. “And right now, for now, this is the only way I know how to do that.”  

“I’m sorry.” Tears sprang from your eyes. 

“No, you sweet idiot, you haven’t done anything wrong. I love you.” He gathered you in his arms, kissing away your tears as his own started to roll down. He sighed. “Great, now no one is coming, and everyone is crying.” 

You both burst out laughing as soon as those words were out of his mouth.  

You held each other a while longer, him stroking your back, before you broke the silence. 

“So the bite scars are pretty erogenous then?” 

“Extremely. Use that knowledge at your own risk and peril, darling.” 

He lifted your chin for a kiss. 

“Shall we go piss everyone off for a while, maybe steal Lae’zel’s boots, then come back here for more ‘memories’?” he asked.  

“Sounds childish and dangerous. I’m in.” 

You needed to clear your head too.  

Maybe tomorrow would be the day one of you would get closer to knowing what it was you were doing, and tell the other. Until then, at least you were in it together. 

~~~~~ 

The “I love you” is not canon for Act 2, but it is my headcanon, damnit.  

Like what you just read? Huzzah, there’s more! - Series master list

Next in series - Communication

AO3

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I wouldn't really agree that boys are just arm candy in magical girl shows and only there to look cute. Yeah, sure the girls' friendships are the focus, but the boys are usually very much involved in the plot and most shows do explore their feelings about the odd things that happen due to magical shenanigans even if they aren't in the know (It's why ML baffles me even more with how they screwed up Adren's arc when he's the deuteragonist, when all these boys are supporting cast and get well rounded arcs)

I'm not much of a winx fan, but the specialists were very much not arm candy. Did the girls talk about them being cute? Yes, it's what teenage girls do. Did the narrative suggest they were good looking? Yes, but that's standard for most love interests in any genre. But we still got scenes with them talking amongst themselves about how they themselves feel and they got a fair share of badass fight scenes even if they wield no magic. A large amount of episodes actually included the boys and girls working as a team solving a mystery or fighting a villain. The girls might deal the finishing blow but the boys were still integral to the plot.

I hope this doesn't come across as hate, it definitely wasn't my intention. I'm just a bit too passionate about the magical girl genre.

I do think you have a good point with ML having a problem choosing a genre or blending two genres successfully.

For the CCS fans, I will add though that Cardcaptor Sakura had both Tomoyo and Syaoran serve as sources of motivation for Sakura. And both Sakura and Syaoran collecting cards even if Sakura is the only one who could seal them and yet never made you question whether Syaoran was even necessary for the job the way ml does with Chat.

I wasn't trying to say that boys have no part to play in magical girl team shows or that they're always treated as having no lives beyond the girls, that's why I mentioned that the Winx Club boys - aka, the Specialists - have their own (mostly off screen) lives and occasionally show up help the girls:

the boys are usually off doing their own thing and only occasionally show up for a date or to give the girls a ride on their cool bikes or magical spaceship

Even then, this is certainly a simplification of the roles that they play in the story, but I kind of had to simplify their roles down to their base components for the original post's discussion as I was talking in broad strokes of how these stories are written.

In terms of those broad strokes, the Specialists are absolutely only there for shipping fodder. That's why each one is assigned to a girl from the start and why their main role in the narrative is supporting their assigned love interest or causing relationship-based drama for their assigned love interest. If it weren't for shipping, then the Specialists would not exist.

While the Specialists do have fleshed out characters and may even effect the plot, the execution of those elements is designed around the girls. A really obvious example of this is the character Timmy, who has character development as the boy's tech guy. Why is he into technology? Because he's the designated love interest for the fairy of Technology and we have to show why they're a good match. Along similar lines, the boys don't really get plots that are removed from the girls because this is the girl's show. Every episode features one or more of the Winx, but the boys are optional and often don't appear.

This is because, narratively speaking, the boys are just love interests and that brings us back to Miraculous' big problem. You can't have a show where Adrien is written like a Specialist while also being part of the Winx Club and where Alya is written like she's part of the Winx Club while technically being more of a Specialist in terms of power set and actual narrative role.

I'm was thinking back to my memories of various Winx Club plots to find one that really highlighted what I mean here and I remembered that one of the big dramas in season one was the reveal that Bloom's love interest - Sky - was in an arranged marriage and had just never told her. As it turns out, that's a great example of what I'm talking about re Adrien!

Is that plot line technically based around Sky and letting his life effect the plot? Sure, but the fallout of that reveal revolves around Bloom, not Sky. The story doesn't really care how Sky's feeling as the conflict progresses. Instead, it focuses on how it affects Bloom and her friends because of course it does! She's the main character. It would be really weird if that plot suddenly focused on her side character love interest and his friends during one of her darkest hours/biggest moments.

Think of that and then consider how the ending of season five is written. Notice any similarities? Sure, this is Adrien's family drama, but because he's just a Specialist, the focus isn't on him. It's on Winx Club member Marinette and Adrien only shows up at the end for a kiss. That is the problem. That is what I'm talking about when I say that Miraculous will randomly write him as if we're watching a magical girl team show where Adrien is just the love interest.

In fact, let's really dig into this example because it's a good one.

You can have a look at the transcript for the finale episode of Miraculous season five here and see for yourself that Adrien doesn't even show up on screen until the final scenes when the big drama is over. The Winx Club wiki also has episode transcripts, so I took a look to see what happened in Winx land during the arranged marriage reveal plot (I love that this is a thing. It's so useful for fact checking myself!) This is the script for the episode after Bloom learns the truth. Sky does not appear even though his lies and family drama are the fuel for this episode's events, which are a major part of the season's arc. Note how perfectly that matches Adrien's writing?

Similarly, Sky's dialogue in the reveal episode is all about Bloom. He's worried about her learning the truth and thinking less of him. To match that, here's Adrien's only real dialogue in the penultimate episode of season five (full transcript):

Adrien:(Covers his ears.) I cannot transform... (Looks at his ring and tries taking it off.) Plagg: What are you doing?! Adrien: I'm not in my right mind. I'm too angry — at myself for falling short of Marinette's love, at my father for sending me here in London, at this stupid app and these rings that use my image... it makes me sick! This nightmare is giving me the horrible feeling that, if I transform, I'll get akumatized and destroy everything with my Cataclysm — Marinette, Ladybug... (Takes off the ring and hands it to Plagg.)

Switching back to Winx. After Bloom learns the truth about Sky, bad things happen because she's depressed. This results in her and the Winx going off on a journey to learn the truth of who Bloom is. After the girls share this big plot moment and Bloom gets her mojo back, the boys show up to be their ride home and to give Bloom her romance moment where Sky wins her back by declaring that he broke off the arranged married because he loves her.

Sky notably doesn't get an arc about choosing between his arranged marriage and his true love. We don't even know that the marriage is broken off until he tells Bloom because that was never really a conflict as far as the narrative was concerned. Of course he's going to pick Bloom! He's her designated side character love interest! He only exists to be with her. We don't need to treat this as a serious thing for him. The arranged marriage plot was never about him anyway. It was about giving Bloom a reason to have a darkest hour moment that moves the plot forward. Similarly, Sky calling off the marriage is nowhere near as important as him telling Bloom that he's called off the marriage to be with her in a grand romantic gesture.

This perfectly mirrors Miraculous' season five ending where Adrien doesn't appear until after Marinette is done fighting her big girl power fight against his father. As far as the writing is concerned, that fight isn't about him. His connection to the villain only really matters in terms of how it affects Marinette's actions during the final battle. Then, when the battle is over, Adrien shows up to give Marinette her big romance moment because, while the plot may be driven by Adrien's family, he is not a Winx club member. He's just a Specialist. Or, in the words of the head writer:

[image text: She's Barbie, he's Ken. You don't like it. I get it. It won't change. Anything else?] (The full, even more damning context of this tweet can be found here.)

What else can I say other than, "I rest my case."

Oh, and also that I didn't take this as an attack. I just thought it was a good opportunity to really dig into the nuances of this and what I was talking about in that original post as I never know how obvious this stuff is if you don't closely study story telling. As this case study hopefully shows, if a show is about a group of girl friends using the power of friendship, then their love interests may have important roles, but the boys are never going to be more important than the girls and most of the boy's screen time will be focused on romance and how their existence effects the girls because it's ultimately the girls' world. Without them, the show wouldn't exist. Without the boys? Well, then we just wouldn't have a romance plot.

[suzukiblu]

Greetings! I truly enjoy your writing, and I would like to see more of the Tim/Kon soulmates AU, if you feel like it!

Thank you! I do have a bit more of it lying around, sooooo . . .

Continued from here, for anyone who needs the setup.

It's early morning in Honolulu and Tim is very, very tired. He didn't sleep on the flight because he was making plans, but to be honest said plans are all shit. His best option is gonna take six months to fully execute, for starters. Which is a reasonable amount of time to have to spend getting a near-complete stranger to trust you enough to let you kidnap them away from everything and everyone they know, he knows, but still. It's not even that solid a plan, even discounting the frustrating time delay. It's just the best of a bad lot.

Maybe Tim should've, like . . . actually stopped long enough to tell Bruce what he was doing and get some advice. Or at least Alfred, anyway.

Just . . . it's fine, Tim tells himself as he and his go-bag get a taxi. This is just preliminary work anyway. Recon more than anything else. Ideally he'll manage to "meet" Superboy, but he's not dumb enough to think he's going to get the guy to like him this quick, much less trust him. The goal is "passing awareness of his civilian identity's existence" and nothing else.

Then the street kind of blows up in front of his taxi.

So that's a whole thing.

And here's Tim without so much as a damn domino in his pocket.

People are screaming, things are very literally on fire, and some rando in lycra is yelling at the cop car on the corner. Normal Tuesday, really, except it's broad fucking daylight and again Tim doesn't have a mask on him, much less his bo staff or utility belt or anything actually any kind of useful.

Fuck airport security, Tim thinks.

"Who's the jerk with the monologue?" he asks the driver, who seems largely nonplussed by the whole situation and has definitely left the meter running while they're trapped between the other cars and the blown-up street. Priorities, Tim guesses. Can't blame a guy for having them.

"Beats me, man," the driver says with a shrug. "I don't keep track of the spandex set, I just take the necessary detours around 'em when I'm working."

"That might be lycra," Tim says, reaching for his wallet. "But fair enough. How much do I owe you?"

He doesn't have a mask right now, no, but he can't just leave civilians unprotected. He can at least help people get out of the area and maybe distract the lycra rando for a bit, if it comes to it. If nothing else, he can–

Somebody in flashy red and blue and a black leather jacket crash-lands on top of the lycra rando with very deliberate flair, and then the street blows up again.

This time, though, the explosion is definitely telekinetic in origin.

Specifically tactile telekinetic, Tim thinks it's safe to assume.

He pays the driver, then grabs his go-bag and gets to getting people out of the area as subtly as possible while Superboy and the lycra rando tear up the street even worse. Like, almost impressively worse. Tim really wouldn't have thought the damage could even get that much worse, but they both find a way.

He is going to have such a hard time convincing Bruce to let him drag Superboy to Gotham.

Well, it's a six-month plan. Maybe the guy will mellow out a bit somewhere in there. Learn some subtlety. Pick up a bit of finesse.

Tim isn't actually that delusional, obviously, but that's the lie he's gonna tell Batman.

[finn-writes-stuff]

Hello :) I must admit I've been binge reading your content. I was hoping I could request a Percy (Vox Machina) x gn reader where he gets very worried when reader either nearly sacrifices themselves for him or they take a risk that he didn't think was necessary? 10/10 worried perce is adorbs but i also feel guilty o.o 👉👈 ngl I live for when he be stressing and overprotective lmao. Poor Percy needs a vacation.

I Need You

Percy hadn't let himself care for someone this much ever since he lost everyone. How had you managed to change that?

Percy de Rolo x Reader

Fandom: The Legend of Vox Machina/ Critical Role

Format: Oneshot (1550 words)

Content Warnings: Fairly light descriptions of injuries, and an argument between Reader and Percy. Talk of potential deadly harm, as this takes place after a battle.

Gender Neutral Reader

Masterlist

Consider the image of Percy on vacation in one of those Hawaiian shirts and big sunglasses. Also I do not apologize for the amount of Pike. She is everything to me<3 -Finn

"Now, I know reckless in a fight," Pike said, carefully wrapping a bandage around the deep wound on your leg. "I have been reckless in a fight. But that? That was not reckless. That was stupid. And stupid will get you killed out there! And then where would we be?" 

You knew her well enough to recognize the concern under the scolding, even as she wrapped the bandage a little tighter than necessary to punctuate her point. You felt bad about letting her look after you even after she had burned the last of her spell slots, but she hadn't been keen on taking no for an answer after getting a look at the injury, dragging you to your room in the keep. According to her, it was a miracle you’d gotten back to the keep at all on that leg after the battle. Even when you insisted you could wrap it yourself, she waved you off. Too kind for her own good with a party like this. Sometimes she was the only thing keeping you all from running headfirst to your demises. (Or at least yanking you all back when you tried.)

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, Pike. I just couldn't let Percy take the hit instead, he didn't see it coming, he would be worse off than I am now." You smiled at the cleric, shrugging your shoulders sheepishly. Pike didn’t look all that impressed, but you knew she understood. 

His gun had jammed in the middle of the battle, a familiar flaw of its mechanisms. But instead of teasing your lover about it like usual, you had seen an attacker lunge at him as he let his guard down. He was a ranged fighter, nothing should have been allowed to get that close in the first place. Of course, he dropped his guard for a moment. In any other fight, he would have been fine to unjam his gun while ducking back from the battle. 

It sent an uncomfortable chill down your spine when you imagined what might have happened if you hadn't been so close. Throwing yourself in the way and fighting off the creature had landed you with a blindingly painful wound on your leg and likely a couple of bruised ribs if the ache that came with breathing was anything to go by. It had been stronger than you'd expected, and getting hit with the flat of a weapon may have been better than the edge, but it still hurt like a bitch.

"Both of you were being stupid. If I see that happen again, you'll have Grog patch you up instead. And he hasn't quite gotten a handle on his bedside manner, yet." 

Laughing hurt, but It was good to know Pike was relaxed enough to joke. Meant that you probably weren't dying. 

"Pike! Are they-" Percy bolted into the room, looking for all intents a wild man, before stopping in his tracks at the sight of you. A load of tension dropped from his shoulders, but only for long enough for him to register your injuries. You knew you looked pretty rough. In all fairness, so did he, his white hair shot through with wisps of gray from gunsmoke and the black powder always left on his gloves. He must have been running his hands through it, if it’s messy style was anything to go off of. 

"Hey, Percy," you said softly, doing your best to offer a reassuring smile. It must have been closer to a grimace with the concerned noise he bit off  in response. There was something a little heartbreaking about the open stress and worry in his eyes as he stepped forward, hesitating to touch you. He so often had his emotions in check, that seeing them so openly on display felt unfair to him. You grabbed his hand, squeezing it a moment, and the contact seemed to pull him back out of his thoughts. 

"By the gods, what were you thinking? Are you insane? You could have gotten yourself killed! Who just jumps in front of an attack like that?" He wasn't quite yelling, wouldn't yell at you in your own room, but the panic set into his voice was more than a sufficient substitute. 

"Percy, it's not like you were dodging it, you would have been hit instead." You made an attempt at answering reasonably, trying to calm his worries, but if anything, it only made it worse somehow. 

"Then you should have let it hit me instead of throwing yourself at a blade! If it had hit you at a different angle it very well could have gone straight through you! Were you thinking at all?" He had dropped your hand now, pacing a circle in your room. 

"I was thinking about how you were going to get hit. Is it such a crime to look out for you?" 

"At the cost of yourself, yes!"

"I'm not going to sit and watch you get hurt if I can do something about it!"

"And make me watch you nearly die instead?"

Pike spoke up before you could say anything, pushing herself to her feet. "Both of you. Quit it." She was obviously both annoyed and exhausted. You and Percy both wilted under her tone as she turned to look at you. "That was a stupid and dangerous move today. Don't pull that again. Percy, Don't yell at someone who saved you, you sound like an asshole. They need to rest, so shelve your argument for later." 

The wind had been taken out of his sails, leaving him standing back by the wall, thoroughly chastised. "I, yes, of course, Pike."

"Don't walk on that leg today, take it easy," Pike said, looking back at you. "I'll be back in a couple of hours to double-check on you, but I need some rest. I'm plumb out of energy." 

"Don't worry about it, Pike, I'll be alright. Thank you." 

"Good. Now both of you, if I hear anything about you two arguing again, I'm setting Keyleth on your case." With that, she patted your shoulder and swept out of the room. 

There was a moment of awkward silence, Percy glancing around your room rather than meeting your eyes. He seemed to be debating on what to say, or maybe whether to follow Pike out the door to be out of your hair. 

"Percy,"

"I apologize. I shouldn't have been so harsh with you. Especially not while you're injured. I didn't- I, well." Staring fiercely at his feet, his apology was stumbling. There was something endearing about it, in the way there always was when he extended a branch of vulnerability. "I was worried about you. Seeing you get thrown to the ground after taking a hit for me was...terrifying, to say the least."

"Oh, Percy," you sighed, beckoning him over. "It was pretty fucking terrifying to see you about to be hit, too." 

He walked up to you, stopping in front of you and kneeling down so as to look up at you instead of towering over you. "I...can understand that. I simply don't want you getting hurt on my behalf. Or at all, really."

"Wouldn't that be lovely? Being adventurers who never get hurt." You reached a hand out, resting it softly on his cheek. He leaned into your touch, and you could see through the worry to the affection underneath it. "I don't want you hurt either. If today didn't make that obvious."

"I know, dear, I do." He nodded, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. It was achingly soft, like he was still afraid that you would break. You wouldn’t, but the gentle nature of his love still squeezed your heart. "Could I at least look after you while you recover? This is my fault." 

"Don't be an idiot, I moved of my own free will. But, I wouldn't deny some extra time with you. And I'll need the help if I'm supposed to stay off my leg." 

"We can discuss who's at fault tomorrow, love. Tell me what I can do to help?" There was an exasperated fondness in his voice, the familiar pattern the two of you always fell into. It was soothing after the sharp tension of before. 

"Just hold me? We could both use the chance to relax, I think." 

He let out a breathless chuckle, nodding and reluctantly pulling back from your gentle hold. He wasn't fragile either, not like glass ready to break. But you couldn't help but want to treat him with care, the same way he treated you as he carefully helped you lie down in your bed, shedding his coat to slip in beside you and draw you into his arms. 

There would be more fights to come, there would be more injuries and arguments, and worries. But if after them all, you could both be okay enough to end up like this, it would be alright. Your face pressed against his shoulder, his hands steady on your back. You could be safe here, together. 

As your heartbeats fell into synch, you gently pulled off his glasses, setting them aside. It made it easier to lean in and kiss him, slow and tired. 

"I love you."

"I love you too."

[another-lost-mc]

OMG THE ZEE FIC!! There's just something about yandere demon ocs that make me feral 🤭

Oh no, handsome demons being obsessed with you~

If the demon brothers and side characters can be a little sketchy, so can the OCs.

cw: yandere-ish themes and behaviours including stalking, implied violence and non-con magic/drugging to influence mc.

Karasu shares Levi's brand of obsessive jealousy and desire, easily concealed by his impressive connections and his naturally shy, passive demeanor. Being a social introvert has its advantages, after all. The amount of information as his disposal through the technology he created makes it easy for him to observe MC safely from a distance while gathering information about anyone else who attempts to get close to them.

Zee would be similar to Lucifer or Barbatos I think. Smart enough to know how much he can get away with, and he has enough restraint not to draw attention to himself in the process. Plus, like the other two demons, Zee has his own little tricks and conspirators that naturally help him avoid detection while keeping tabs on MC.

Azra and Belial are infatuation-at-first-sight types, where Azra is more jealous and Belial is more possessive when it comes to their love interests. Unfortunately, they both have poor impulse control and rely on their trusted associates (Zee for Azra, Shaitan for Belial) to keep things from getting out of hand and help them clean up any messes along the way. They're a weird combination of Mammon, Satan, and Asmo when it comes to their very boisterous affections for MC (and barely-restrained anger at anyone who gets in their way).

Tenebris has Solomon's magical tricks and Diavolo's nearly untouchable privilege. He's less inclined to use magic on MC, instead choosing to use whatever means necessary to quietly chase away or dispose of his competition. There's probably no surprise that he feels confident about escaping any real repercussions should his actions be discovered - his brother's not going to punish him the way he might any other demon (and if Diavolo is secretly taking part in the scheme, who could blame him, it's a fair compromise they both benefit from).

Simeon and the angel OCs have their sweet faces, pleasant personalities and natural charisma to help lure MC into their grasp. They're the wolves in sheep's clothing that stalk the tasty morsels in the flock. And what's even better - or worse, depending who you ask - is that many of the angels are willing to cooperate.

Metatron and Asmo will seem similar with their bubbly cheerfulness and how touchy-feely they are in MC's personal space.

Seraphiel, Gabriel and Uriel will seem similar to Lucifer or Satan with their calm, methodical approach to dealing with obstacles (and the incensed frustrations they hide behind sweet smiles, resolved later with sharp blades and split knuckles behind closed doors).

Habuhiah has Solomon's brilliance and Beel's warm, protective demeanor. She is calm and reliable, using her knowledge of magic and herbs to create to sweeten MC's affections for her and no one else. She spends most of her time working alone and far away from the Celestial Halls, and when MC visits, it's the perfect excuse to spend time together where the other angels are less likely to interfere.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

CRANBERRY MY LOVE

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮

126 for Cranberry!!! You're gonna get a lot here haha

---

“We’ll manage for two weeks, right?” Eddie teases. Something about the collective pronoun makes Buck feel very warm.

“Somehow, I suppose.” Buck replies a little theatrically. He turns back to stirring his pasta sauce. 

“With two weeks child-free, uh… I could…” Eddie starts, then trails off. 

Buck feels his heart rate jump a little. He looks back at Eddie. 

“You could what?”

Eddie takes a steeling breath. 

“Sorry,” he mutters. “This is hard.”

Is this actually happening right now?

“Take your time,” Buck insists.

Eddie nods, looking at the floor. 

“I almost died,” he says after a moment.

“You did,” Buck agrees. 

“I think… Well, I think there’s been a lot to remind me that life can be short, in the past year. Short and unpredictable.

Buck nods. Isn’t that the truth? 

“Anyway, I don’t… I don’t want to waste more time.” Eddie sighs. “Because, I could’ve… So… Jesus, I’m not doing this well.”

“You’re doing fine,” Buck insists. 

Because Eddie has to know that Buck knows. They both know. It’s just been a waiting game. 

Eddie takes another deep breath. 

“Maybe when Chris is away at camp we could go on a date.”

Buck smiles. “I’d like that a lot.”

Eddie finally looks at him. “Yeah?”

“I think you’re very aware the answer is yes, Eddie,” Buck tells him.

A small, coy smile plays across Eddie’s lips. 

“It’s not… I know it’s still a bit of a ways away, but I’d just…”

He feels safer about this when his son is away. Like he has the room to explore it, separately. Buck isn’t a parent, but he can empathize with that. Imagine it, at least. 

“Hey, I get it,” Buck reassures him. “And I’m happy to wait. Really.” 

Eddie exhales, relieved. “Thank you.”

It’s hard not to cross the kitchen right then and there and kiss him. He wants to so badly. But he resists, pulling his spoon out of the sauce and making Eddie taste test it for him instead. 

The whole rest of the night, Buck can’t quite keep a grin off his face. Summer can’t come quickly enough. 

iii.

It’s not long after that evening that, during the middle of a work day, Buck’s boss at Emergency Operations pays him a visit. Deputy Chief Carr is a stout, friendly man with a sort of buzzing energy. Buck likes him well enough. He’s good to work for; fair, flexible, encouraging. He’s not Bobby. But Buck doesn’t think anyone ever will be. 

Today, Carr tells Buck that they’re sending him home. Indefinitely. 

“With more and more cases of this virus popping up around the city, the Department has made the decision to transition as many employees as possible to a remote position,” Carr explains. “And that includes you.” 

Buck looks down at his prosthetic foot. It’s strange to think that he’s the kind of worker, now, that can be sent home. Relegated to an internet connection. There’s nothing wrong with it. He knows that. He’s done a lot of therapy to internalize that, to not connect his inherent worth to what his body is able to give. But it’s still an uncomfortable thought. He’s never been a work from home type of guy. Never great at being left alone with himself. 

“Alright,” Buck says. “When does this start?” 

“Tomorrow.” Carr says. “We’re going to get you to take your computer home tonight, and all other necessary equipment. Someone from IT will call tomorrow morning to make sure everything is running properly and securely at home.”

“Wow,” Buck exhales. He looks at Cranberry. He hopes she won’t be terribly bored. He’ll have to think of something else to do with her, if she’s not getting the same amount of work in. “Okay. Thank you, Chief.”

“Someone will be by with boxes,” Carr says. “GIve a shout if you need help carrying everything to your car with the dog.”

“Oh, yeah. Uh, thank you. I might.”

“Thanks for the flexibility, Buckley.”

And then he leaves. With him, once again, goes Buck’s entire sense of routine. 

A few hours later, as he’s pulling out of the parking lot with all the contents of his office in the backseat of the Jeep, Eddie calls him. Thank god. Buck could really use a minute to near-panic about this situation. 

“Hey, man,” Buck answers the call. “You will not believe what just happened at work.”

“Uh, hey. Actually. Do you have a minute to talk?” 

Buck frowns. Eddie sounds upset. 

“What’s up?”

“The LAFD is sending non-essential workers home,” Eddie says. “Did you hear?” 

“Yeah,” Buck answers. “That’s what I was just about to say to you. They sent me home. I’ve got a giant monitor in the car with me.”

“Active duty firefighters have to keep working unless they’re immunocompromised,” Eddie says. His voice is right. Like he’s fighting back some swell of emotion. 

“Right. That makes sense,” Buck says. 

Eddie isn’t immunocompromised. No one on the 118 is, as far as he knows. 

“Buck, I need us to switch.” 

“Switch?” Buck echoes. 

“I need…” Eddie sighs. “Would you switch with me? Stay with Chris?"

[multiplicity-positivity]

Hi! I was looking for advice and you seem pretty knowledgeable about plurality so I’d thought I’d ask you.

I’ve started to wonder if maybe I’m plural, but don’t know if my experiences are similar to something someone is neurotypical might experience. I think of myself as only having one headmate, but when it comes to interacting with people I express one of two manifestations of said headmate.

I figure it’s relatively common in people who aren’t plural to show different parts of themselves to differently people, but these two manifestations are so dramatically different to the point of being polar opposites that I’ve started to wonder.

(Some clarifying notes: While I don’t have names for these separate manifestations as they are both parts of the same individual in my head, I will refer to them as 🌟 and 🪐 respectively. I will refer to me presenting either 🌟 or 🪐 as fronting, and the version that exists in my head as the headspace version. I’m using this language just to be clear with what I mean, not to appropriate language used by systems/say I am one)

It hasn’t always been like this. When I was little, I was just 🌟. I was extremely extroverted, energetic, argumentative, and struggled with emotional regulation. I display these traits whenever I am fronting 🌟. 🪐 has always been around in my headspace as well, and sometimes 🪐 would front, but this didn’t happen in any meaningful capacity until I was around 9. My behavior shifted drastically, because 🪐 is very quiet, observant, and logical. My mother has told me multiple times that she felt like I got jaded in the 4th grade. Now, unless I’ve gotten to know someone well or am incredibly comfortable in the environment I’m in, I front 🪐. Around my very close friends 🌟 will front, and 🌟 will also front when I get very giddy or excited. Sometimes when 🌟 fronts I catch myself regretting it, scared I annoyed people or if people hate me, because I can’t control which manifestation of myself people talk to.

But the thing is, I don’t have any trauma that I know of, and they exist together as one identity in my headspace. My worldview, beliefs, and memories remain the same across the board. I think of myself as one person, even if someone’s experiences with me can vary drastically (this ask would be very different if you were talking to 🌟)

I figured since you interact with a fair amount of systems and are one yourself, you could maybe point me in the right direction.

Thanks for your time!

Hi! We won’t be able to confirm or deny whether or not you’re plural, sorry about that! It’s true that even singlets are multifaceted, with different sides of themselves that they show to different people at different times. And many singlets may find that they feel more extroverted and bubbly with people they’re comfortable with, and more introverted and reserved with people they don’t know that well. To us, this is pretty normal, and even some of our parts experience socialization in this way!

What we truly believe, is that if the plural framework is beneficial for you, if you are helped or comforted by the idea of being a system, then you are more than welcome to identify as such! Not all systems form from trauma - while trauma is necessary in order for someone to develop a dissociative disorder like DID, there are plenty of other ways to exist as multiple or more than one!

We have a post we wrote in the past with a ton of resources for questioning systems. We’d like to share it with you in case one of the resources there could be useful!

For anyone questioning whether or not they’re plural, the process can be difficult, confusing, and may take a long time (we know it certainly did for us!). It’s okay to go slowly and not rush to any conclusions about yourself! That being said, it’s definitely okay to try out some labels while you’re questioning to see if anything feels right or sticks out to you. There’s no harm in trying out plural labels while you’re questioning - you’re not invading any spaces or appropriating plural language by experimenting with the terms you use to describe yourself!

Finally, we’d like to recommend learning more about median systems specifically. Plurality is a spectrum, and not every system will have fully developed, unique, and separate individual headmates! We understand median systems as those who exist in between a singlet and fully separated multiple on the plural spectrum. It may be worth learning more about if you’re wondering whether or not you’re “plural enough” to call yourself a system! (Note that we’re not saying for sure that you are a median system! Rather, we’re just suggesting it as a potential research option or direction for you.)

We hope this helps! Good luck to you with navigating the waters of questioning plurality. And feel free to reach out if you have any further questions on your journey! Know that even if it turns out that you’re not plural after all, that’s okay! Hopefully the questioning process will still be insightful for you. And plural or not, you’ll always be welcome here on this blog!

[presidentbungus]

Medic doesn’t necessarily recognize the face, but he knows the silhouette—the same one that always tends to show up behind the infernal contraptions that tear his teammates to shreds. He’s stocky, hunched, an odd-looking shotgun with a vertical barrel held carefully pointed away from his chest.

When he sees Medic, he smiles, and even though only a good half of his face is visible for dark tinted goggles and a slightly overlarge bright yellow hard hat, what’s visible betrays a powerful jawline, symmetrical features, disturbingly white teeth.

Medic must be getting lonely—his hormones seem to be operating on overdrive. He has to remind himself there is a shotgun pointed at his chest, and that the shotgun is getting closer every few seconds.

“Howdy, partner,” the other team’s Engineer calls, in a thick, relatively unsurprising accent he’s fairly sure is southern-American. Medic watches him carefully, choosing not to respond, so he follows: “I ain’t lookin’ for trouble or nothing.”

What a fascinating and entirely incomprehensible pattern of speech. Medic continues to push the cart, ignoring him, since he doesn't look like the sort to bury a significant amount of shrapnel in his back for lack of attention—though if he did at this point it would be more of a blessing than anything.

“Where’s the rest of y’all’s team?”

“I don’t know,” he calls back, more bitterly than necessary or intended. “Why would they tell me? I really don’t know.”

“Interesting.” He’s walked up close enough that his voice lowers into something deeper, more comfortable-sounding. “Now, uh, my team’s gone too… which is why I was asking.”

“Maybe they all ran off to let the only two useful members of either team handle everything.”

“Well, uh,” the engineer seems to get the implication because he blushes a little bit, “to be fair if I’m supposed to be handling things I think I’m doin’ a pretty bang-up job.”

Hmm. “Is that supposed to mean ‘bad’?”

“Well, what’s implied by the context clues?”

The engineer keeps leaning against a wall, falling behind, and scrambling ahead to lean against another wall. Medic watches him with barely-concealed amusement.

“That you’re standing by and doing nothing while the enemy team captures.”

“Yeah. That’s the point.”

“If it helps, Engineer, from my perspective you’re doing some fantastic work."

"You know, I'll take it."

————

Engineer smiles, and his eyes crinkle even through the goggles, and he sets an experimental hand on the cart.

It grinds to a halt. Medic almost loses his balance since the thing he was pushing suddenly stops moving, though he wrenches his back and narrowly avoids toppling over the thick soles of his boots (though at the cost of whatever makes an extremely disturbing popping noise in his back).

“It’s like the wheels just lock up,” Engineer says. He has a way of making everything he says sound both endlessly fascinated and completely apathetic, like he already knew what was going on. “Well, what’s the point of that?”

“If you could remove your hand from the cart,” Medic says. “I’m trying not to imply to my team—wherever they are—that something may be amiss at the objective.”

He complies, stepping back, leaning against a wall. Medic thinks the amount of tint on his goggles is on purpose—a less observant person might think he was looking away, though the tilt of his head implies his eyes are still very much watching Medic pant and strain to keep the cart rolling. And well—what does Scout always say?—screw him. Medic’s just not sure why he feels so embarrassed.

“Are you seeing anything of interest, Herr Engineer?”

“Well, if you gotta know… a little.” Medic feels the half-wink all the way from there, and is annoyed at how warm his face feels. “But I’m not sure if it’s reciprocal.”

Interesting. “Potentially.” And to douse that general sentiment: “You seem incredibly irritating.”

“Give it a few days.”

[satanicsanity]

Okay so.. I really didn't want to have to do this but unfortunately I think i might have to?? Just as a reminder.. Please read my boundaries and be respectful, and know that I am just one person doing all of these impression videos, and a student. I have gotten a couple personal messages here and there of people asking me why I haven't/didn't do their request yet, and some folks have sent me complaints and are getting snippy with me. And this hasn't happened just today, it's been over the past week I believe.

You know I love and appreciate you all very much, I'm constantly excited to come home and get to work on these for you guys. But please.. If I don't do your request, don't come messaging me personally asking why, because there could be many reasons, or it could be the simple fact i haven't gotten to it yet. Yes, there are a fair amount of requests that I haven't done due to reasons of my own, or due to the fact they were uncomfortable or difficult for me to film. There can be many reasons, and I ask you not to pry as to why i won't do a certain thing someone may request me to.

I'm one person, I have classes and family, I don't have all the time in the world to dedicate to doing every single request I get. And I'm a huge people pleaser so believe me when I say I have tried.

Please just be patient, and try to be understanding. I'm not upset with anyone, I'm just tired, so I'm sorry if this comes across as harsh.. Im just a little stressed. Please, be patient, I cannot get to every request I'm given.

To those who are patient, support me, and don't push me to do one thing or another.. Thank you <3 I deeply appreciate you

I'm sorry I have to make this post, but I feel it is necessary

(This does not in any way, shape, or form mean I'm quitting voice impressions!! <3)

[sophieinwonderland]

Speaking of how people refuse to engage with "traumagenic" as an umbrella term, it repeatedly baffles me whenever I try to start conversations on the ways different traumas can affect a system, or just coin terms for specific traumagenic origins because our system finds them useful, and I'll get pushback from both pro-endos and anti-endos alike. Like, excuse me? I'm trying to have a productive discussion on trauma and healing here. Why are you so afraid to acknowledge that trauma can be diverse and more specific resources may be needed sometimes? My headmates who came from the trauma of a lack of accomodations for our disabilities have a very different relationship with our plurality and trauma than my headmates who came from not being believed about our pain or my headmates who came from being bullied or my headmates who came from financial stress. All of it is trauma, but it's not all the same, and each of us needs different things. Different resources, different methods of recovery, different words for what we went through. And it's a core part of our recovery that we need to balance all these different traumas and origins; if we just went about some sort of "one size fits all" treatment (which it feels like people expect us to go through), we'd end up in a much worse situation than if we carefully unraveled each trauma as its own thing.

I think it has to do with all the expectations around trauma that can be seen in DID spaces, especially when it comes to what trauma can cause a system to form. There's still ideas floating around over there that only specific physical and sexual abuse is "bad enough" to cause DID, and there are lots of posts that act as though everyone with DID went through the same exact traumas, eg. I remember seeing a fair amount of "this is what DID is really like" memes that include sexual abuse as if everyone with DID has suffered from it. And because it's expected that we all went through the same things and have the same process of recovery, well, there's no need to elaborate any more on our origins, right? Just say "traumagenic" and everyone has a specific picture in their mind of what you went through. It never occurs to them that being more specific might be necessary or at least helpful (even when they claim that just about anything can be trauma – which, yeah, maybe just about anything could be, but if that's so, why are you against people coining terms to find others who have gone through their niche traumas, so they can trade stories and tips on how to get better?). Add that to the claim that other forms of trauma or abuse aren't "bad enough" to cause DID, and, well... Any effect other traumas may have on a system, even if they're not considered part of that system's origin, get brushed off to the side or only vaguely acknowledged. It's better than how it used to be, but I still see this subtle attitude here and there.

I feel like I'm rambling at this point but as one specific example, we have headmates who specifically help us with eating enough, because our trauma involves food issues and a possible eating disorder. Despite these headmates likely qualifying as traumagenic or at least caregivers to traumagenic headmates, there's not much room for them in the traumagenic community, and I've seen lots of backlash for specific terms for them because... idk, I guess some people don't want to acknowledge that eating disorders or general food issues can be traumatic enough to cause systems or new headmates. Or they think any mention of such things, even in spaces specifically meant to discuss trauma, means we're "glorifying" the shit we went/go through. It's frustrating. I just want tips from other systems on how to help these kids eat more when our amnesia means I don't know why we dissociate at family dinners or what foods are safe to eat. Calling ourselves just "traumagenic" isn't going to connect us with the systems who can help with that (and before anyone says anything, neither is just going into spaces for food issues – most of the people there are singlets who don't have any idea what to do about our situation!).

.

[razorblade180]

Purpose and Promise

Scara:*holding vision*…Beur, may I ask a request?

Nahida:A request from me? What is it?

Scara:May I be your second Sage?

Nahida:*eyes widen* I don’t really think that’s necessary-

Scara:*kneels and lowers head* Please….

Nahida:….Is validation of your worth from an Archon truly that precious to you?

Scara:No. It has nothing to do with what you are. It’s just… if you’re the one saying I’m progressing well, being better, then I know it must be true.

Nahida:You trust my judgment that much?

Scara:Yes.

Nahida:If that’s the case…

She walks closer to him, grabbing each side of his face and raising his head to greet him with a warm smile.

Nahida:Trust me when I say you don’t need to be a Sage by my side for what you want. I can be your friend instead.

Scara:My friend?

Nahida:I’ll admit, you’ve seen a vast amount of the world. Sights I could only imagine; invaluable knowledge worthy of a sage. But in my opinion and admittedly, my own selfish curiosity, I think it would do wonders for you to wander the world again with your new found perspective that’s developing. Much like how a new lens on a Kamera, what you’ve seen before is bound to be different to you. I’d love to know what that looks like.

Scara:Is that right? Well isn’t someone getting a little greedy? *smirks*

Nahida:It’s only natural for the God of Wisdom to know as much as possible. I did say it was a little selfish. However, it’s also a wonderful excuse to visit you in your dreams, or make you feel less embarrassed if you ever feel like coming back to visit me.

Scara: *red* I don’t see what I’d be embarrassed about. If I’m around then I’m around.

Nahida:Hehe, of course. Spread your wings far and wide; see all you can. A Sage must be wise after all. Far from now, if you still wish it, there will be a spot saved for you.

Scara:Ah, so come back when I’m more interesting?

Nahida:I said I’d be visiting you and you can see me whenever! Besides, when aren’t you interesting?

Scara:Hmph, fair enough. *stands up* But if I’m going through all this, then prepare to humor another request.

Nahida:Oh?

Scara:Talking becomes so tiring, and no way would I remember everything perfectly. So if I’m going through the hassle of seeing this world for both my sake and your curiosity, be prepared for a journey. Might as well put the knowledge to use and personally show the world when I’m done.

Nahida:….*smiles* How devious, offering a gift like that in front of me. I’m gonna hold you to that.

Scara:I know I know. Well…see you around, Buer.

He flies off with a wave, not looking back. Nahida feels a sense of hope, despite the twinge of sadness. She was actually going to miss him but far be it from her to be too selfish by keeping him around when the world had so much to offer both of them. For now the wind should carry him further than she can go. She can wait for the next breeze.

xxxxx

Days came and went with seasons again and again. All of them different and beautiful in their own way. Another beautiful night in Sumeru was observed by a stronger, wiser, God of Wisdom than the day before and even the day before that. Gentle she sat in her windowsill with legs stretched as far it allowed. Perhaps it was time to find a bigger spot? Not even her old friend Cyno would dare take watch here.

As Nahida turned around began to get down, a gentle breeze caught her long white and green hair and let it flow. The light from outside was slowly blocked by shadow behind her.

“Well look who grew like a weed?”

Gentley, she smiled and turned around to see the world before her.

“Hello my Sage. What took you so long?”

[greydoesthearts]

Faulty Memory - Chapter 2

TW: pretty intense autistic meltdown/ptsd scene, it induced panic in me to write it so just a fair warning. Luckily, Jackie's good good doggy dog helps him out :]

-

Wind rustled the pages of his books around him and Jameson's eyes scanned them quickly, even as the magic emboldened around him, grew colder. Taunted him.

None of them were telling him what he needed to know. None of them were helping. Of all these books, NOTHING was clearing up this frustration. These were Jackie's books! He thought that meant he knew something, but this. was. BULLSHIT--!

The door to his room opened and he heard a gasp beyond the barrier of the bubble. The sounds were amplified despite the winds around him. Cocoa's nails hit the hardwood of the hallway, and Jackie closed the door so that she couldn't get in.

This was not what he'd meant to happen from getting Jameson out of the shell he'd been trapped in the past three weeks, just to trap himself in another.

He didn't say anything, neither of them did, but Jackie's footsteps approached until he could practically touch the bubble. His hand reached out, the cold already permeating the air around it, uncontained.

His breath caught again as Jameson looked up at him with ice in his eyes. Determined. His hand shot out, a short bit of energy leaving the base of the bubble to push Jackie back and away, but Jackie was bigger than him, and the magic was weak outside of the bubble where it was mostly stuck in, so he held his ground after being moved a few inches.

"Jameson, stop!" he shouted, his feet freezing to the spot moments later. He looked down as the ice grasped at his feet and legs.

"S-stop," he tried again with a shiver, but Jameson's eyes remained as cold as the ice magic he favoured.

Jameson's gaze returned to the books, continuing to try and find something, anything of use, but he reached the end of another, and another, coming up empty, and-- fuck, Jackie was actually freezing out there, wasn't he?

He sighed. Slowly, the bubble dropped, melting, so to say, into the floor but leaving nothing behind.

The ice remained around Jackie's legs, creeping up him as slow as a snail, but still dealing an amount of probable damage that Jameson hoped he could fix... as soon as he got some questions answered.

He stood, dusting his pants off, and approached, halting the progression of the ice. Jackie kept shivering.

"Don't worry, frostbite won't set in for a few minutes, at least." That didn't seem to help Jackie's fears, surprisingly. "Just tell me, please, do you have any idea of where I might find information on time travel magic?"

"I don't own anything like that," Jackie said quickly and quietly, taking in the actual amount of books he hadn't even realised Jameson had taken. "I've never even come across it. I'm sorry."

Jameson narrowed his eyes on his friend, but letting this sit longer than necessary wasn't going to provide him any more information.

Jackie winced as the ice moved again before realising it was going down now, back into the ground, without Jameson even needing to do anything special. In fact, the moment it depleted, Jameson walked off back to all of the books and collected them in a pile just to hand back to Jackie.

"These are of no use to me, then. I suppose I'll just have to find another way," Jameson muttered, stuffing his magic-soaked hands in his pockets. "I won't risk any more harm in here tonight, you can go."

As Jackie held the books and watched Jameson scuff his sock at the carpet in dismay, he couldn't help but feel bad.

Even despite what he might have done to him if he were just slightly more unstable.

"James... trying to fix it isn't the answer. You know that, right? It's not your fault--"

"It is. I remember all of it now. It's only my fault. Every last detail."

"You tried to warn him, though," Jackie argued lightly, but Jameson just wiped at his eyes. "You did everything you could, James."

"I did too much, Jackie," he admitted. All Jackie could do was stand there with his breath caught in his throat at the words. What did that mean...? "If I hadn't called emergency services, that man who shot CB, Ace, if I remember right, would never have done that."

If Jackie could have gone more silent, he would have. Instead, he let out the breath and placed the books on Jameson's desk. His mouth seemed to have gone completely dry the second that name was uttered and he couldn't get the normal feeling back.

"Ace?" he asked. His voice was practically a whisper, his throat crackly with the lack of moisture, but the word was clear anyway.

Jameson didn't know how to interpret that response, turning to the only explanation he had. "Yes. He was mute, from what I gathered from CB talking to him. We were trying to save him from where he was being held captive."

"Mute. Captive. Ace." Jackie could only repeat the words back as he tried to comprehend what he was hearing. He automatically pulled his shirt sleeve down over his hand.

He'd never told Jameson what--who--had caused the lightning-bolt scars, and Jameson never pressed beyond the fact they were just 'scars'. His eyes closed tightly and he could hear Cocoa pawing at the door like a good girl at sensing his distress, but he couldn't make himself open it.

Or speak, he couldn't do that anymore, either.

His chest rose and fell at a dizzing pace with no way to get it under control.

Even as Jameson stepped closer, touching him to try and help while he pulled away, before pulling the door open to soothe the dog who instead ran around him and pounced right on her owner's front.

He grasped her paws, aware enough that he was able to lower himself to the ground so she could kneel onto him and lick his face. An attempt to tell him to breathe, and fuck, he was getting pretty lightheaded, he hadn't even noticed, but now she was here, and Cocoa was the manifestation of everything good in his life, perfect as could be.

He slowly calmed down and was able to bring his breathing to a normal-ish pace enough to notice that Jameson was sitting next to him with his head on Jackie's shoulder.

Cocoa must have realised he wasn't a threat to have allowed that, or it really had been that long, considering Cocoa was now lying calmly with her head and paws on Jackie's lap, peering up at him through her eyelashes. He petted her gently, gaining some moisture back into his mouth.

"Good girl, Cocoa," he whispered.

Beside him, Jameson sat up, looking at him sideways as he spoke. "Is... everything okay between us?"

Jackie shot him an incredulous look but James wasn't looking now. "Of course, why wouldn't it be? That-- none of that was your fault."

"I... triggered something." Jameson's brow furrowed as he stared at his hands in his own lap; they were still slightly blue from magic, and he suddenly hated that again as much as he did when he'd been between jobs, before joining Chase, before-- "I didn't realise you knew... him."

"Only briefly," Jackie said slowly. "A blip in time, really. I don't..." he hesitated.

"You don't want to talk about it? I understand," Jameson said, nodding when he noticed Jackie kept staring to confirm. "By your reaction, I'm fairly certain I can gauge the extent of the damage anyhow."

His eyes flicked to Jackie's scarred hand then quickly back up to his face, where Jackie avoided eye contact as always.

"Was that before you learned how to do the magic you know?" Jameson asked, a semi-change to the subject.

Jackie could only nod, still quiet and slow, "Been learning for a couple years now, but I hadn't grasped it enough then."

Jameson nodded now, then sat back against the leg of the desk in silence. Cocoa began whining for attention on Jackie's lap as she became happy that Jackie was calm and he laughed as he petted her again. "Yes, Cocoa, you did so good. Thank you."

He reached into the bag on his hip and grabbed a treat out for her in order to thank her how she could really appreciate it; she took it and stood and left.

"Will... you be all right?" Jameson rubbed at his fingers to try and force the magic colouring away.

"I think the real question is: will you? You realise trying to fix it isn't the right choice, no matter what, right?" Jackie pressed. "I may not know much about magic, but I know things won't be the same if you go back and change it. Please, stop trying."

Jameson took a deep breath. Deep down he knew Jackie was right, but that didn't stop the need inside of him, to have Chase back at his side.

He was nothing without him. He was alone, just a man with magic in a world that didn't like differences. There was no way he was going through all that on and off job bullshit again, at the very least, he just knew he needed to do more. He needed Chase to guide him through the world of being a hero.

"There won't be anymore trying," he said simply, to soothe Jackie's worries.

Of the words left unspoken, though, he was thinking, "There won't be anymore trying because I'm going to succeed." And he was convinced of that.

[deuterosapiens]

Well, finished The Crow. Reading this was, er... as pleasant as one might expect.

I had a morbid hope that I could read this and in some way justify the existence of the recent film. Like, if in some way or another, there was some aspect of the original comic that the new film captured that was lost in the original film, then it would feel to me a bit like that movie had a reason to exist, outside of a shameful Hollywood obsession with renewing properties that are better off left alone.

I don't think I can be genuine with that second sentiment without watching the sequel, the spin-offs, the series, but outside of a fair amount of creative violence and a solid soundtrack, I don't really think it holds much weight in capturing what this story's about.

The Brandon Lee film does make a significant number of deviations from the book. I'm not to deny that. It is, however, significantly more right than the new (with regards to "book accuracy"). It also holds up as its own film.

I'm simply going to say that I found it quite a necessary read, and hope that James O'Barr got a shred of the catharsis he needed out of writing it.

I found delight in the fact that cats are drawn to this hell-touched avatar of revenge. I'm quite simple in my love of them.

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

2, 6, 9, 10, 13, 14, & 15 with lightning!!

SCREAMS!! EEEK SO MANY!!! /positive

I love answering so many fun questions thank you so much!!!!!!

--obligatory mention that I humanize them, so it's all written in the context of them as, well, humans--

Putting this under a read more because my ability to yammer and yap is like no other. I don't think it's truly THAT long but, it feels necessary 😅(future Kane here..ermm..definitely lengthy! Shamelessly lengthy..)

2. Whats their go-to order at a cafe? What's yours?

L.ighting would definitely get some complex, vibrant looking drink, particularly sweet ones. Fun coffee's that have a lot of syrup flavoring/sugar/creamer in them, or milkshakes that have so many toppings on them that you might as well get a spoon for it. KEY component is that it's always something cold. Don't think I've ever seen him with a hot drink ever, unless you count slurping a bowl of soup.

I stick to like the same coffee every time. Some dark roast coffee with a fair amount of sugar and hazelnut creamer in it. Maybe sometimes that vanilla syrup instead of hazelnut. I think I'm a bit particular when it comes to coffee cause I have to have very specific amounts so the flavor is the way I like it, so I don't stray far out of the same place with the same order. If it's a new place we're going to and they don't offer sugar/creamer packets for your coffee then I'll probably just grab some snack/food if they offer any so I don't gotta go through a whole hassel.

6. They gave you a gift!! What is it?

Definitely some or his merchandise that he goes out of his way to sign with a fun marker that's like glittery or some bold color like silver or gold or purple. Probably a sweater or such that has the same design as his racing suit. Though I'd probably get worried about damaging it and only ever wear it around the house! Haha

9. Do you have any AUs for your selfship? Tell me about them!!

Technically!! It's a whole story that I really should make a post about some day😅 but basically I kinda have a different story/AU for how I meet each character, and the role/job I play/have is just about always different. Technically, all of them could be tied together in one big chronological order, kinda like some elaborate G.ame Theory video, but I typicalllyyy think of them as separate, with occasional exceptions and things.

But! The whole(watered down version) story for how I met L.ightning is that because of my super strong love for racing, I ended up trying to(and succeeding) getting hired as a pit crew member, and got put on L.ightning's team and got to work with him. He was a pain in the ass rookie to have to work with(not that I was any less of a rookie myself), but I liked him, nonetheless, and I knew he had a soft side to him. I ended up getting lost with him during the whole R.adiator Springs shebang, and got stuck with him from then on.

10. What's one thing you like that you think your f/o would also enjoy?

Asides from the more outright choice of, well, racing related things, I definitely think L.ightning would be someone that is really into Legos. I only really care much for particular Lego sets like the flowers/botanical ones, or the ones that are different vehicles and things, but 100% we'd make a date night(s) out of picking out Lego sets we like together and then building them together.

13. Who is the most influential person on your f/o's life?

There's the very obvious choice of picking D.oc, but the more I thought about it, the more the answers got kinda complex for me! D.oc definitely played the main role is turning L.ightning around and changing his attitude, but I think everyone in R.adiator Springs kinda influenced him in different ways.

Then there's the more obscure answer that..not really anyone knows about! But, to make a long story short,(I don't even remember the darn name), but when L.ightning was racing the the training achedemy, before he even got to racing in the big leagues and things, one of his friends betrayed him and, to be quick about it, was the reason L.ightning even got the name L.ightning and also played a hand in helping L.ightning have his big break through in getting to race in bigger leagues! YES this is technically canonical(whether you want to include the books as canonical or not is to each their own, especially depending on some books you can very much tell who did help with the movie and who wasn't even filled in on the plot of the movie so it's almost a pick and choose thing), and YES, if you like to count the books as canonical, L.ightning on a camping trip reveals a personal private story to S.arge, F.illmore, and M.ater about how he got the name L.ightning, and his 'original'(if that's the right word for it?) Name was Montgomery. I have a digital copy of said book and can fetch screenshots if yall think I'm pulling your leg🫡

14. Do you and your f/o share any hobbies?

Certainly! I don't have a whole list off the top of my head, but we definitely have the same taste in playing games together, whether it be video games or board games, I mentioned the Legos earlier, going out and just exploring things...OH! OH!! And 100% the whole dinosaur thing. L.ightning(canonically, I say once more, as if I give a darn to canon and don't avidly preach about bending it to however you please and partake in such actions myself) lovesssss dinosaurs! Even goes to a museum with M.ater about one! And proceeds to have the most blatant display of neurodivergance-y if I've ever seen one. He also watches documentaries and stuff on them. And I love dinosaurs, and I love documentaries!! So there's definitely that.

15. Badly describe your selfship!!

"I love you regaurdless of your past trauma/experiences and you are safe to be vulnerable around me and to be your authentic self without any masking, and without any repercussions." Count 1/??? hundred

[baileypie-writes]

*rolls in the door wearing heelies* welcome back! It's me again. Remember that ask I sent some time ago about reader being scared of Westar because they didn't realize he turned good? Could I pretty please have that again but in Soular flavour? 🥺 TYSM

A/N ~ Sure! Hope you enjoy!

~How Soular Would React to you Being Scared of him at First~

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Fandom: Fresh Precure!

Fanfic Type: Headcanons

Reader: Gender neutral

Relationship: Platonic to Romantic

Characters Included: Soular

Genre: Hurt/Comfort?, Fluff

Rating: PG

Warnings: None!

~Masterlists~

~Fresh Precure! Masterlist~

~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~🍩~~~

~ Though they had stopped a while ago, you still remember the terrifying monster attacks that used to happen fairly often in town. There was always some form of damage left over that would take weeks to fix, only for it to get destroyed again later. It was odd seeing the town without any damage at all. It took a while to finally not feel any anxiety about another monster appearing. Even so, you occasionally look around for the mysterious man that seemed to be causing them. But you would’ve never expected to meet him the way you did.

~~~~

~ Ever since Soular saw you, your charm captivated him. He wanted to strike up a conversation with you, but knew the chances of you recognizing him as a villain were pretty high. So instead, he asked Love and her friends if they knew you. Luckily, Miki did, and told him all about you.

“Oh yeah, (name). They get their hair cut at my mom’s place.”

“Oh really? What else do you know?”

“Well, my mom’s good at talking to people, so I know a fair amount.”

“Do tell.”

~ So now that he knew more about you, he finally decided to ask you out. He still expected a frightened reaction, but he had a plan for that. Being a charming man with such striking good looks most often paid in his favor. So he wanted to use that to his advantage.

~ Obviously, when you saw him, you started freaking out. It got worse when he started talking to you. But Soular being Soular, he serenely got you to hush up and let him speak. He explained everything simply and quickly, though you still understood perfectly. Once he was sure you weren’t going to smash his head in with the nearest object you could get your hands on, he finally asked you out on a date. Reluctantly, you said yes, and Soular declared his attempt a success.

“You’re that evil guy! Get away from me, or I’ll-uh-throw this at you!”

“A traffic cone? That won’t be necessary. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Maybe not, but I might if you don’t back up right now!”

“Oh goodness. Let me explain…”

~ You had no idea what to expect for a date from this guy. But you were pleasantly surprised when he led you to your favorite restaurant. He acted like it was a coincidence, but you could tell from his sly smirk that he somehow knew.

“Are you sure we should we stalking them?”

“We’re not stalking, we’re observing. Besides, I deserve to. After all, I told him (name)’s favorite restaurant.”

“Ohh, so that’s how he knew.”

~ As the date went on, you became more and more comfortable with Soular. He was surprisingly funny, kind and very handsome. He also gave you his full, undivided attention. Even though many ladies in the restaurant were fawning over him, even the ones who already had dates. It made you feel important and special that you were sitting at the same table as him.

“What’s got your attention?”

“Nothing. Just these girls staring at you.”

“Oh, pay them no mind.”

“If you say so…”

~ Once the date was done, he walked you home like the gentleman he is. He asked how you enjoyed yourself, and if you’d like to go out again. Of course, you said yes. He acted calm and cool about it, but when you closed your door, you could’ve sworn you heard a “Yes!” being whispered.

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~~baileypie-writes