#a distinctive moment in time for which we are all grateful

[bethanydelleman]

do you have any theories on why wickham turned out the way he did? his background sounds humble but not dirt poor as i know steward was a really valued job at the time. and as the elder mr. darcy liked him, he probably had a better life than plenty of boys. correct me if i'm wrong but i don't recall any mention of a mom or siblings, so darcy was probably his main childhood companion. it's just horrible to think that over the years he went from seeing darcy as a friend to someone he could ruin. and he was prepared to ruin georgiana's life, not just take all her money but cause a scandal so she might not ever get married again. and if darcy hadn't found lydia he'd probably just leave her where she was with no way of getting home and destroyed the bennets. like why? everyone was nothing but nice to him his whole life and all he does is hurt them and enjoy doing it. when you think about it kind of sounds evil.

From what I understand, Wickham was a failure of a system whereby a rich person would choose someone poorer to patronize. We can see other examples of this in Emma (Jane Fairfax & Harriet Smith) and especially Mansfield Park (Fanny & William Price).

The idea was that the rich would find someone worthy of improvement, sponsor their education, and give them the ability to raise into the gentry class. This sounds like what Mr. Darcy Sr. tried with Wickham, but in this case it was a failure. What ended up happening isn't that Wickham was grateful, but he ended up feeling entitled to the life of a Darcy. The novel's implication is that Wickham had a bad character, which education could not improve, and that Mr. Darcy Sr. was deceived in because Wickham had a veneer of decency.

From Darcy's Letter:

Mr. Wickham is the son of a very respectable man, who had for many years the management of all the Pemberley estates, and whose good conduct in the discharge of his trust naturally inclined my father to be of service to him; and on George Wickham, who was his godson, his kindness was therefore liberally bestowed. My father supported him at school, and afterwards at Cambridge; most important assistance, as his own father, always poor from the extravagance of his wife, would have been unable to give him a gentleman’s education. My father was not only fond of this young man’s society, whose manners were always engaging, he had also the highest opinion of him, and hoping the church would be his profession, intended to provide for him in it. As for myself, it is many, many years since I first began to think of him in a very different manner. The vicious propensities, the want of principle, which he was careful to guard from the knowledge of his best friend, could not escape the observation of a young man of nearly the same age with himself, and who had opportunities of seeing him in unguarded moments, which Mr. Darcy could not have.

Wickham's account:

“We were born in the same parish, within the same park; the greatest part of our youth was passed together: inmates of the same house, sharing the same amusements, objects of the same parental care."

In Mansfield Park, Sir Thomas talks about how difficult it will be to maintain the distinction between his daughters and Fanny, their adopted niece, and when I think about how Wickham turned out, I think this is meant to be taken seriously (even though Sir Thomas and Mrs. Norris screwed up massively):

“There will be some difficulty in our way, Mrs. Norris,” observed Sir Thomas, “as to the distinction proper to be made between the girls as they grow up: how to preserve in the minds of my daughters the consciousness of what they are, without making them think too lowly of their cousin; and how, without depressing her spirits too far, to make her remember that she is not a Miss Bertram. I should wish to see them very good friends, and would, on no account, authorise in my girls the smallest degree of arrogance towards their relation; but still they cannot be equals. Their rank, fortune, rights, and expectations will always be different. It is a point of great delicacy, and you must assist us in our endeavours to choose exactly the right line of conduct.”

Fanny feels grateful for what the Bertrams give her, even though it's scraps of a real education. Wickham ends up feeling entitled, even though he is "liberally bestowed" and that may have been the problem. He was treated too similarly to Darcy and felt that he was a Darcy, only to find out the patronage didn't go as far as he wanted.

Wickham comes off to me as one of those people who is ALWAYS innocent in his own mind, someone else is always the cause of his misfortunes (he's like Willoughby in that respect). So when he tells Elizabeth about how he lost his inheritance, I think he believes what he is saying. He does think Darcy cheated him somehow even though he was in the wrong. Darcy becomes the tyrant because Wickham refuses to be the villain of his own story.

In addition, I don't know if he would have seen Darcy as a friend. Darcy is one of the few people who can see through Wickham and a con man would hate that. Wickham's dislike of Darcy may well have started because he hates that Darcy can perceive and judge the real him.

[mlmxreader]

Dragon's Countryman | Thorin x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Thorin

Soulmates ❞

: ̗̀➛ Thorin has a difficult time accepting the fact that his soulmate is from a land that accepts and protects a dragon.

trigger warnings : ̗̀➛ usage of words such as "countryman" & "handsome"

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

The night was cold, with great winds billowing loudly and rattling the windows sharply, creating a harsh and distinct clattering sound that was all but inescapable; but Dwarves were a tough lot, and as most of them settled down for the night amongst the various rooms, Thorin found himself in a little bit of a predicament.

He watched the stars closely, as if asking them for an answer, as his thumb gently traced over the bright, vivid red dragon scale; for as long as he could remember, it was always said that you and him were soulmates - but how could that be so?

The Dragon's countryman, the one who heavily defended it even when descended into darkness. His soulmate.

It was laughable. It was ridiculous. Thorin was going to slay a dragon, not become an ally to one - regardless of if you were his soulmate. Thorin did not care if that dragon was different from Smaug - the tales of it being fair, kind, and a protector of its countrymen were little more than a child's story... even though you were living proof.

No, Thorin couldn't go through with it, and he knew he wouldn't either. Quickly, he stuffed the scale into his pocket, almost as if it had offended him with its almost glaring bright red hue.

But then, there was a hand on his shoulder and a polite hum. A request to sit beside him, which he allowed when he met your gaze for a brief moment; there was no doubt to him that you were handsome, and your courage and fairness weren't exactly things he looked past, either.

But you were a countryman of a dragon.

"Mind if I ask why you're up so late?"

Thorin glanced at you, then turned his gaze back to the stars with a sharp huff. "Soulmates."

You nodded slowly. "Aye."

"How?" He asked, his voice so low and grumbling that it really was the same as a dragon's yawn.

But you could only find it in yourself to shrug as you hummed softly, shaking your head. It was difficult to think around him; the noble, bruised but hopeful, stern would-be king. A lethally loyal, harshly fierce, warrior in his own right; yet with such gorgeous intelligene, and gentle words.

"I wouldn't know," you admitted. "I suppose you'd best ask Gandalf, more than anyone else... he'd know. Wizards always know these things."

"They do?" He was hardly questioning you, but so lost for words that he had no idea what else to say.

You nodded. "They do. Myrd- you know what? Why don't you leave it til morning? I'll help you speak to Gandalf about it."

He looked at you, such a soft and tender yet vexed look on his features that you wished you had something to paint an instant picture that would last forever; it was both precious and priceless.

"You would do such a thing?"

You nodded slowly. "Why wouldn't I? I mean, I'm your soulmate, and aren't we supposed to help one another?"

He nodded back, just as slow as he scratched his beard. "Is that the only reason you're helping?"

"No," you hung your head, swallowing thickly. "Listen, I might be aware of the... soulmate issue. I know what's expected of both you and me, and how we'll never be rid of one another... but I like you, Thorin. I... I am very grateful for your company, and I have grown fond of it."

He couldn't help but to smile a little as he nodded. "You're not just saying that to impress me, are you?"

"Would I be so nervous if I was?" You laughed softly, the awkward feeling clutching and clawing at your stomach. You wanted to bend over and be sick, hardly able to spend another moment that way.

"You don't need to be," Thorin told you, ginger and hesitant as he allowed his hand to cover yours. "Perhaps... perhaps we could find a way to make this work."

You swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling as if you had not had a drop to drink in centuries. "Honest?"

Thorin gave your hand a gentle, small squeeze. "Honest. I mean, you may be of the dragon's country, but perhaps... we can make it work so that I may stay in your company, and you in mine?"

"I would like that," you said softly. "And I am aware of what you think... I don't mind that you have to kill Smaug. I understand what he did to you and your family. Kill him twice, if you have to."

"You, erm..." he reached into his pocket, gingerly pulling the scale out as he cleared his throat and nodded curtly. "You forgot this. I know I asked to borrow it so I may study it to see if there is a weakness, but... but it's yours, and it's only right it should stay with you - remind you of home."

You shook your head, closing his fingers over the scale as you dared to smile; you were shaking so much when you leaned over, gently kissing his forehead for a moment before standing and offering one last sweet gaze. "Keep it. I like knowing it's in hands that I can trust."

Thorin watched with great unease as you walked away, a pit forming in his stomach as he frowned and sighing heavily; it wasn't fair that you were so good all the time, and nor was it fair that you had to be from the one place in all of Middle Earth that accepted the kin of his biggest enemy.

It stung, but he did think... he did think that perhaps he was wrong, and maybe things were actually doable like he said they were.

But with one last look at the scale, he nodded to himself; he would make a chain for it to hang from, and would keep it around his neck in hopes that your goodness would rub off on him. Even just a little bit would be enough.

if you made it to the end of this fic and you enjoyed it, then please, if you have any cash to spare, even just £1, then please consider giving it to aid Mahmoud in getting his family to safety.

[barblaz-arts]

One of my favourite pieces of your art is the collage of Young Vega, where she’s using make up to put similar scars on her face like Enid’s, etc. simply because of rhe moment where Wednesday asks Vega if she can have a kiss and she gets really upset when Vega rejects her, telling Enid ‘I should call my mother’.

Is there any chance you’d expand on that? We know Enid’s the most affectionate of the two but maybe Wednesday’s usual attitude has caused a severe lack of closeness between the two that Wednesday wants to rectify but is struggling.

I've talked about this before, actually! But okay let me elaborate a bit more.

So, I've mentioned before that who Vega is closest to depended on what period of her life we're talking here. When she was a kid, she was a lot closer to Enid. This because this was a time when Vega was her most hyperactive. Wednesday spent time with Vega of course, but Enid was the one who had the energy to play and entertain a hyperactive child werewolf. Wednesday was always her mother, but Enid was Vega's mom and bestest friend. This distinction doesn't mean one is less than the other, it's just how it is and how relationship compatability works.

Which is also why Wednesday was also so dang heartbroken in that collage lol She tries to bridge that gap with the physical affection that she doesn't usually favor, but because Vega is also Wednesday's daughter, it doesn't always work. Vega isn't always up for it, but when she is, Wednesday is very grateful.

As Vega grows older and becomes a lot more like Wednesday when it comes to her interests tho, Vega starts to become more distant with Enid. She doesn't hate her mom of course, they just don't have a lot in common, and Vega just isn't a child who wants to play around with her mommy anymore. The distance gets worse when Vega gets sent to Nevermore, and Enid is quite bummed to realize she's no longer her daughter's best friend(she's very happy Vega has an actual best friend outside of family tho. It's a very complicated thing)

This is also why the comic with Vega's first wolf out and the Meet the Addamses AU turned out the way they did. Wednesday was the one to comfort child!Vega with a hug because it's not something she often got to do. This was a very special moment for them, and for Wednesday, a privilege. Then in the time travel AU Teen!Vega bonds with a younger Enid and becomes best friends with her all over again, realizing how distant she has become with her mom and getting the necessary push to amend that when adult!Enid comes back.

This is the problem when I make comics that aren't necessarily posted in order lol. I highkey wish I'm able to show all this in a more coherent medium fit for a character and relationship driven story, but I'm grateful for your interest regardless of how disorganized this all is.

So, In a way, I supposed I've expanded on it, but I'm not sure if I'll ever make something that will be transparent about it. For now, just now that these little comics have been and will be made with all this in mind

[meowmarkie]

nct dream as yearning songs

a/n! This is for funzies only! I don’t know any of them personally so I’m only comparing and linking their behavior shown through videos with the behavior of those I know in real life (me included). And also, If you haven’t listened to any of these songs, PLEASE give them a listen bc I feel like it’ll help you guys better understand my vision :)

Mark - End Of Beginning, Djo

Just one more tear to cry, one teardrop from my eye

You better save it for

The middle of the night when things aren't black and white

Enter, Troubadour

"Remember 24?"

Mark’s always talking about finally beginning a project whenever he’s with the dreamies, so I always get reminded of this song (that’s not the only reason tho) once the “is it really starting this time?” teasing commences — even though it might pass as a “funny” quirk, the need to establish out loud that they are “restarting” or finally starting things as if from scratch, might be because of something deeper. Mark seems like the kind of guy who works hard and reminisces about his past, especially when it comes to where it all (ironically) started. He works so hard and is almost never relaxing or taking a vacation, he says he’s fine, but since I'm a workaholic as well, I can tell you guys that we always end up breaking down because of how much stuff we’re doing. So, in those overwhelming moments, I can imagine Mark looking back to when he was in Canada, being able to rest and take in all the small pleasures the world can offer, not having to worry about his image, his feelings, his needs or if he’s “korean enough” to be working as an idol (idk about you guys, but that distinction between being a pure korean vs a mixed korean would drive me insane. I’d be so upset to always have to prove myself and prove that part of my nationality), reminiscing about the times when he was full of dreams, peace, and most importantly, energy.

You take the man out of the city, not the city out the man

Renjun - Abstract (Psychopomp), Hozier

See how it shines

Renjun is a very simple and honest man; he knows what he likes, what he doesn’t and knows how to set up his boundaries. However, he’s really sensible when it comes to life (in ALL its meanings), which is why I’m reminded of this song whenever I think of him. I’m grateful for all the things Renjun has shared with us, such as his mental health, hobbies and just his personality in general. Abstract is a song that shows how much its “subject” is sensible, brave (for jumping into traffic in order to rescue the dying/already dead animal) and never seems to catch a break, while the one singing (in this case, Hozier) can only take in the sight, not being able to do anything to help. In this analogy, Renjun is the subject and his friends/family/fans are Hozier, y’all. I feel like he strives to protect those he loves, and yearns for their well being when he can’t do anything to help.

(it was tough to choose just a small part of the song, when in fact, in my opinion, the whole thing describes him so well)

The speed that you moved

The screech of the cars

The creature still moving

That slowed in your arms

The fear in its eyes

Gone out in an instant

Your tear caught the light

The Earth from a distance

Jeno - Yes To Heaven, Lana Del Rey

If you go, I'll stay

You come back, I'll be right here

Like a barge at sea

In the storm, I stay clear

We’ve got ourselves a lover boy! No surprises there, I think. Even though this song comes from a female point of view, I think it still describes Jeno really well. Getting back on track, I feel like this suits him given the fact that when he likes someone, he likes someone — if he feels strongly like that, it’s even more intense when it comes to his loved ones, hence the song. Jeno would do anything in the world for his partner, and that includes fighting for them, to keep them by his side even if things get incredibly tough. 

His reason to yearn would be his person, before he even managed to win them over. Jeno would yearn for a life next to his loved one, for their acceptance and approval of him — nothing would make him happier than hearing a yes from his lover.

Say yes to Heaven

Say yes to me

Haechan - Gilded Lily, Cults

Now it's been long enough to talk about it

I've started not to doubt it, just wrap my head around it

I remember when you told me it's an everyday decision

But with my double vision, how was I supposed to see the way?

This boy is one of the most hard-working human beings on earth, methinks. Because he’s always giving, exposing and donating parts of himself to the world, not gaining anything back… The amount of hate and fake news he gets thrown at him is insane, being the reason why I always think of him when listening to this song. He has the biggest heart ever, and he pays the price for it every single day of his life. Haechan’s personality is bright and it should shine as much as it needs to, he might look overly confident but I wouldn’t doubt that in fact, he’s totally insecure about himself and about his skills, lost in the world yearning for appreciation. Gilded Lily suits him so much it actually pains me to make this connection anywhere other than my brain.

His hard work isn’t half as repaid as it should be. Some “fans” should be embarrassed to call themselves such when the first thing they do is to attack Hae.

Haven't I given enough, given enough?

Always the fool with the slowest heart

But I know you'll take me with you

We'll live in spaces between walls

Jaemin - Chemtrails Over The Country Club, Lana Del Rey

I'm on the run with you, my sweet love

There's nothing wrong contemplating God

Under the chemtrails over the country club

In another life, I believe that Jaemin could’ve been living peacefully in a suburb, white picket fences and all. This song is filled with nostalgia and the wish to run away with your loved one, which painfully reminds me of Jaemin. He’s the perfect man, the perfect gentleman even, so that’d make his partner want to elope with him. However, this image of him resides only in my (and now, your) imagination — that’s why I chose this song for him. Whenever I take in anything that Jaemin does, I can help but think about how I’d feel in his shoes: he had the plan to become a doctor, did charity work, played the piano, got good grades and was handsome. Having such high standards and some fondness towards the academic way of life, would I be 100% satisfied living an idol life? The answer is no, ergo my need to choose this song for him. If my hunch about Jaem is correct, he’d be yearning for the possibilities of having another life, especially when it comes to love. From what he has shown us, he wouldn’t be the type to voluntarily want to hide his loved one — I feel like he’d want to boast to the world about them.

I interpret this song as a life the singer would like to have had with their loved one, but couldn’t since the opportunity passed, and is now cursed to live forever with their “what ifs”.

My love, my love

Washing my hair, doing the laundry

Late night TV, I want you on me

Like when we were kids

Under chemtrails and country clubs

It's never too late, baby, so don't give up

Chenle - loml, Taylor Swift

If you know it in one glimpse, it's legendary

You and I go from one kiss to gettin’ married

Still alive killing time at the cemetery

Never quite buried

In your suit and tie, in the nick of time

You lowdown boy, you standup guy

You Holy Ghost, you told me I'm

The love of your life

I apologize in advance to all you Chenle stans out there for bringing this up, but… IT NEEDS TO BE SAID. He fits this song so much it’s actually insane. He doesn’t have many regrets in his life (as said by the man himself), so in a world in which he’d yearn, it’d definitely be because of love, hence why his song is loml. Chenle wouldn’t be able to get over his first love, leading to countless daydreaming sessions and longing sighs. He’d reminisce about his time with the person, over analyzing everything that was said and done, remembering even the smallest things the other person said he didn’t care about. Losing something makes you realize what that thing really meant, thus creating the eternal heartache of knowing that you took it for granted — despite all the fights and wrong-doings, Chenle would never be able to forgive himself for losing the person he loved.

His first love would stay with him forever, but as time goes by, they’d be only a soft memory instead of a lingering sadness.

Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire

Your arson's match, your somber eyes

And I'll still see it until I die

You're the loss of my life

Jisung - Brother, Kodaline

If I was dying on my knees

You would be the one to rescue me

And if you were drowned at sea I

'd give you my lungs so you could breathe

If there’s one quality I’d use to describe Jisung, It’d be loyalty. He’s extremely loyal towards his hyungs, and that’s why I chose this song for him. Once the dreamies weren’t a fixed unit, Jisung shared his fear of being alone, and without his older brothers by his side, he knew not of what the future had in store for him. Hence why the lyrics (this one in particular: When we were young, we were the ones // The kings and queens, oh yeah we ruled the world) and just the “desperate” vibes of the song scream Park Jisung. He loves the dreamies so much that losing them would be as devastating as losing one of his family members. We don’t get to see the clingy and soft side of Jisung as much as the boys do, but just because we as fans don’t experience it, doesn’t mean that they can’t feel it. 

There’s just not much to say besides that he loves his members to the point of sacrificing himself for them.

I’ve got you brother

The whole group - Home, Edith Whiskers ver.

We laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night

Nothing new is sweeter than with you

I couldn’t do something like this without mentioning the dark period of when Mark was removed from the unit (sorry in advance <3), so here it is! Home would be their song from when they missed Mark, and kept reminiscing about their debut and previous comeback when their leader and older brother was still there with them. The song might come from a romantic point of view, but it’s just as fitting for a friend group, therefore making it perfect to describe the dreamie’s situation.

Losing someone important is awful, especially when that person is “removed” from your day-to-day life thanks to other people’s choices — it isn’t fair, and I’m sure the boys felt this way for a long period of time until they could shine again with Mark by their side. They’ve never been better and nct dream is now on the way to become even more powerful than before, and for that I’m incredibly proud of the children they were, who maintained themselves strong and brave throughout a heartbreaking moment. The dreamies deserve the best and my heart is at ease to see that their recognition is finally arriving. They are my home, and I’m sure they are your home as well :)

Oh, home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you

[1000sunnygo]

The Three Captain's Interview (2021) : Hiroshi Kamiya as Law (Translated)

Awfully late to the party again. Here's a partial translation of the "Three Captains QnA" interview conducted in 2021 to celebrate the 100th volume of One Piece. I think most readers already accessed the translation via auto translator, or maybe someone translated already (in that case, ignore this)

I didn't find any available translation so I'm putting all of Hiroshi Kamiya's answers here. Just in case you don't know, Kamiya san in Law's voice actor. His answers were particularly long and informative, so I focused only on him.

Starts below the cut!

-

Q. How did you feel when you got the role?

- The casting of Namikawa san (Eustass Kidd) and I was triggered by the work "Ilya no Sora, UFO no Natsu", in which Namikawa san played the role of a timid boy in junior high school and I was a sharp-tongued senior. Hiroaki Shibata, who was the producer of that work, later became the producer of One Piece and then approached us.

I understood the flow of the process and was grateful for the offer, but both Namikawa san and I were good at giving higher pitched voices at that time. So, to be honest, we had absolutely no idea what he had in mind when he cast us. But since I was approached and I had no choice but to give it a go, I gave the character a rough, low-pitched sound that didn't go well with my personal theme but matched the character's appearance; and they gave me an OK...

But, adding a personal note, I voiced an unnamed role 'Pirate A' all the way back in the first episode. I had a few more roles afterwards, and eventually I was given the role 'Eddy' in the Sky Island Arc. After a short interval, I was very happy to be chosen for a major role with the name 'Law' and as a rookie with over a hundred million bounty like Luffy.

By nature, the sounds I make don't have a distinct quality, so I didn't have much of a chance to be cast in "ONE PIECE" filled with unique characters. But thinking about it, Law doesn't really have any outstanding feature either (laughs). Regardless, I am very grateful that I was selected out of all other choices.

(T/N: I made a separate post about Kamiya san's roles in one piece here.)

-

Q. Did you have any specific thoughts or feelings while playing in One Piece?

- I really wanted to play Law as a child. The past with Corazon is inseparable from the present Law, isn't it? Since Law at the moment is here because of that past, I really wanted to incorporate the childhood Law into my character.

Also, in the long history of One Piece, Luffy is the only male character who is played by the same actor for both his adult and child versions. There had never been a male voice actor who had the chance, so I had a personal ambition to set a precedent. The moment I found out that Law's past was going to be portrayed, I made a blunt confession that I absolutely wanted to play the (child Law) role. I later auditioned and was hired.

When the time came to record the episodes of Law's past and I was given a script with "Law, Hiroshi Kamiya" right next to Luffy, it meant a lot to me. Seeing the senior members of the One Piece cast team playing the main characters and monopolizing the studio microphones, I had always wanted to play as a main character in the same place someday. Unfortunately, I never had the chance, so, that time it felt like a dream come true.

I think this, too, was possible because it's a story created by Oda sensei. To begin with, it's rare for me to put up my hand to take an initiative by myself. The possibility of trying out a role and then people thinking "Totally off, this shouldn't be their voice at all" - is terrifying, isn't it? I'm a person lacking self-confidence, yet, Oda sensei created a work that moved my heart and made me feel like I wanted to express my tone, and thus I was able to have such a joyful experience. So, once again, I think One Piece is amazing.

(T/N: Kamiya san talking about voicing young Law in a different interview can be found here.)

-

Q. Impression of the character you're currently playing?

- I think he's a man with a deep sense of responsibility. After all, the alliance was originally formed to defeat Doflamingo by taking advantage of Luffy's desire to beat the 'Emperors', and now even after defeating him, they're still working together. That makes him an honest guy who keeps his words.

That said, he's the captain of the Heart pirates. I think he wants to reciprocate the feeling to the crew that follows him with a belief that he's the best in the world. That's why when he said "I hate breads!" and the Straw hats kept pulling him like "you're one of us too!" (laughs), he kept holding his stance, "I'm NOT gonna go that way!"

-

Q. Thoughts on Mayumi Tanaka as Luffy?

- I saw Mayumi san leading the anime like a boss from the moment Luffy came out of the barrel shouting "I SLEPT WELL!" in episode 1. The fact that it continues to go strong and become more popular with the viewers to this day - is truly amazing.

-

Q. Thoughts on Daisuke Namikawa as Kidd?

- I think Namikawa san is ridiculous! After all, back at that time he would only play characters with meek voices, I really thought he didn't have the voice range to be entrusted with such a dynamic role. I think he threw his own persona away to play Kidd.

-

Q. Do you think it's possible to win against Kaidou?

- It has to be. I think Luffy would be able to beat him with something beyond Law's strategy. To Law, Luffy is the one person that can create unexpected circumstances. I believe their actions would blossom meaningfully in future.

-

Source: @Eiichiro_staff (search up the hashtag #三船長QA on Twitter)

[buck-tick-stash]

BUCK-TICK 現象 2023, my experience

Nippon Budokan was absolutely packed.

As the start time drew near, for half a moment, I had a daymare that Atsushi Sakurai would, physically, appear on stage. That his death had been a stunt all a long. Ridiculous to think, but even that horrible, cruel scenario would be preferable to the reality that we continue in a world where he no longer exists.

And here, what was to happen on stage? The rhythm section's platform, the drums, the guitars, the chairs, all laid out as usual, but the center mic stand was missing. I gasped as I realized Sakurai's masks were laid out, as well as candles ready in a candelabra.

The lights dimmed and the boys came on, one at a time, as they always had.

Toll and Imai wore spectacular costumes. Toll was in all red accented in black with matching gloves, as if taking on the concert's newly adopted logo in total. Imai, ever wild and challenging, came with blazing red hair, matching red fur platform boots with glittering silver heels, screaming gold spandex tights, and a carpet-like top with a kimono-like right sleeve. Both of Imai's and Toll's tops sparkled.

Yuta and Hide were more subdued, with Yuta in dark, gemtone amethyst and Hide in loosely flowing silver.

Then spot lights shining straight down from the ceiling above struck stage front center. The ghost of Sakurai, in the form of this memory, in the space that had always been his, was being honored. Had the spot been blocked off by a border of shimenawa, the hemp fiber rope and white lightning paper that marks the holy ground of gods, it would not have been out of place.

Music was already playing, Shippuu no Blade Runner, but no hint of vocals came across. I listened to the crowd to see if they were going to—if they were even expected to—sing in Sakurai's stead. They readily raised their arms, bouncing to the beat, as if this were any other concert, but the vocals remained bare. The background screen split five ways with two each of the living members on either side, while the center section remained dark. Sakurai was missing. The song's end was followed by a standard applause, along with a few cries of "Acchan!"

By contrast, the second song, Dokudanjou Beauty immediately featured a track of Sakurai's voice, taken or blended from previous live events. A few tears broke among the audience, but the mood went up in general, and the crowd was readily engaged in the song's call and answer.

For much of the show, this pattern continued. Some wails, much cheering and waving, and no shortage of calling Acchan's name. From time to time, there were more notable reactions.

Gustave's distinct first meow from Imai's guitar received audible sobs, followed by enthusiastic dance, pawing at the air, and singing along.

I broke at Aishi no Rock Star, which featured dual vocals from Sakurai and the late Issay, along with their performance at Toll's "It's a NOW" 60th birthday gig projected on the back screen.

Sakura stung especially, but was equally poignant. All the sentiments that Sakurai had laid bare were now shared by the audience and band and redirected at him. Single arms rose (as their partners were busy clasping mouths and gripping tissues) toward the screens and light projections of sakura branches losing their petals in the song's final refrain.

A completely robed stage hand came to the dark stage to light the candelabra in sync with the projection of Sakurai as Romance began to play. They gently brought the stand to stage front center, and I think most of us in the audience watched those candles burn through the song.

Like Sakura, Taiyo to Icaros was recolored by the new context.

Had only such songs been played, the concert would have been maudlin, but Go-Go B-T Train, Future Song, and Boogie Woogie balanced the mourning with an upbeat, celebratory and playful tones.

And then there was Memento Mori. I could not have been more grateful to hear this song, not simply because it's one of my favorites, but because it's perhaps the most characteristic of Imai's approach and message during this entire trying period. Nor was it lost on the crowd, who seemed to be waving and dancing more furiously in defiance of grief at the chorus.

Muma, The Nightmare was a choice… I found myself crying at the first image of Sakurai against a brilliant white Christian cross behind him, singing of Hell in Heaven-like lighting. As the song progressed, the live stage before us was accented in red, very especially the grate beneath stage front center, which was now also spewing mist, and with the red light, appeared as fire.

I came to have a feeling of confidence as the song went on, as I was watching the crowd enthusiastically waving their hands along. Sakurai's voice could easily tell this story because he was acting out the part, not because he was living it. And even had there been such a moment on his journey in Bardo, one could easily infer such suffering as temporarily Christlike, the preamble to the joyous ascent to Heaven.

The remaining songs were playful and hopeful, though I found Na Mo Naki Watashi difficult not to cry through entirely.

Before the last song, the boys all sat, and the lights came up a bit as they addressed the audience directly.

Yuta spoke first and was quick to tears as he said that, while he was uncertain of the future, he knew that Buck-Tick will always be five members. As his voice cracked, the audience also broke. Sobs remained audible throughout.

Toll noted the rare show of Yuta's vulnerability, and admitted that, at first, he did not know whether Buck Tick would continue or not, but that the immense support of the fans gave him the drive to, and that Imai and Hide had no shortage of songs left to compose.

Hide connected the audience's nervousness with his own, but spoke softly and reassuringly. "The Parade will continue."

Imai floored me.

Imai's recent posts on Instagram show a man who's pushing forward. Granted, not in a brutish, shaming way, but he shows little sadness, if any. He just spend a day chatting up a god of contentedness along one of his shrine visits. Combine this with his reputation for suffering no fools, and he would seem the type to keep a stiff upper lip and expect others to do the same.

Instead he said, 
"It's okay to be sad. It's okay to cry. It's okay. But please don't suffer."

Such sentiments are exceedingly rare in Japan's gaman culture. To hear such kindness shook me, as did the rest of Imai's speech.

That he did not believe Sakurai was in Heaven, but rather, that he was here, now, remaining in the presence of the band.

That they would continue to make music. That they would have another album.

That "one day, there will only be three members." (And here, the audience wailed.) "And one day, two." (Again.) "And finally, one. I wonder if that will be me. But I'll continue the Parade, and I'll take everyone with me. And so, raise your glasses for a toast. To you, to your return. Share your stories of Buck-Tick and Acchan, please."

After New World as a finale, the credits, which featured music and tour videos from their past decades together, ended with the announcement that they would return to perform at Nippon Budokan in 2024.

[orenji-iro-no-sora]

"When you're hungry, and you eat a small mouthful of something...it makes you even hungrier." - Osamu Miya

I finally watched the Dumpster Battle and I have so many feelings but Osamu really summed it up.

(spoilers alert)

Beyond the joy of watching an amazing Haikyu match after so long (sooo long 😩), I couldn't help but feel a strong yearning for more after the movie ended. Hq always makes me feel hungry... So it makes sense in a way that I ended up wanting more. But this time, it's different. It's intentional.

Kenma as a protagonist was an interesting choice made by the creators and I have mixed feelings about it. For one, I adore Kenma and I enjoyed seeing his backstory, his friendship with Kuroo, his strategy and feelings about Hinata, everything that gave an insight on him was fascinating to watch. I especially liked his pov shot and his pain of caging Shoyou, of feeling miserable at the inevitable end of everything he enjoys. I think that resonated the most with me. I feel the same about Haikyu ending slowly. (It has ended but you get it, right?)

On the other hand, it felt really limiting. The pacing of the movie was too fast, everything happened at 2x speed, there was no time to process the match at all. It's a bit ironic since in the last match with Inarizaki, that's literally the cause of their downfall.

Was it fast because that's how Kenma experienced it? Or was it because 1 hour 25 minutes was not enough to show everything? [It's not enough ik. This movie could easily have been a season with at least 10 episodes. :(( But I'm grateful for the movie, nonetheless.<3]

We don't see much character interaction, Karasuno's strategy, the coaches and how the players are feeling, what they're thinking, audience or really much of anyone tbh. As someone who especially enjoys these low moments in Haikyu, the ones that makes it distinct from other sports anime, I felt that the movie underdelivered in that camaraderie.

In art, it's often said to keep the specular light to minimal. That's the only way for it to be noticeable. Like in studio ghibli movies, the deliberate slowness makes the action that much more impactful. The light stands out!

The entire match was fantastic to the point that everything blended together and nothing stood out too much. I felt a strange dissonance throughout the movie, hoping for a big moment as is typical of hq matches, and not finding any.

Again, is that because Kenma didn't focus on that or is it the pacing and the time restraint?

There were so many things that I loved about it though. Animation, camera angles, OST, voice acting, and sound effects really made it seem like you were playing with the characters. It's a big shift from the almost omniscient perspective we get of looking in to the match and into the player interactions and mindset. It was exciting for sure, I couldn't take my eyes off the screen (literally because you'd miss something if you do... It's that fast). Hinata's frustration and pain, his silence, reflection and conclusion, and Kageyama stepping up to open up a path for him... I just wanted to give them a hug.

With Kenma and Hinata so lost in the moment and not realising the match ending, it came as a surprise to the viewer too when it did. I think it was genius, we ended up feeling exactly how they did. But it also felt anticlimactic. Which again is what they intended.

The match was great, a small mouthful of the characters and their friendship. I feel hungrier now...

The Party is over. But I'll be reliving it again and again. ❤️

[infiniteeight8]

What if Stephen turns into a cat?😇

I have had less writing time at con than expected (I really should have known), but I finally got to a ficlet!

I have done an angsty version of cat!Stephen here. 😀 This is the hopefully funnier version.

*

When the Sanctum doors swing open for Tony, he is immediately assaulted by the loudest, most ear-piercing yowling he has ever experienced in his life. It sounds like a dozen cats are being cruelly tortured. It’s so loud that people on the sidewalk actually turn and give him and the building wary looks. 

The Sanctum doors twitch a little, almost like they’re motioning him inside. The more cautious part of Tony loses the battle with his curiosity and he steps into the considerably-less-solemn-than-usual Sanctum foyer. The awful noise starts wavering up and down the aural spectrum. As Tony is wincing and wondering which way to go—the yowling is too loud to make out a distinct direction—the Cloak appears and waves for him to follow it.

Making his way down a hallway after the Cloak, Tony eventually emerges into the kitchen. There’s a cat carrier sitting on the kitchen table. Wong is facing the opening. “...screeching like this isn’t helping me find a solution!” Wong says, crossing his arms. He’s scowling, more discomfited than Tony has ever seen him. Tony wonders how long he’s been subjected to the ear-piercing wails of an infuriated cat.

“Wong?” Tony calls over the noise. “Where’s”—the noise abruptly cuts out—“Stephen?”

Wong visibly relaxes. “Stark,” he says, and there’s an actual note of relief in his voice. He waves at the cat carrier.

It takes Tony a minute to realize that the gesture is his answer. He comes around the kitchen table and peers into the carrier. The cat within is a slender, glossy black with two adorable smudges of gray just behind its blue-green eyes. “Hey there,” Tony says. “What are you doing in a cage?”

Stephen turns his gaze on Wong, narrows his eyes, and hisses. Tony raises an eyebrow at the sorcerer. Wong narrows his eyes back at Stephen. “He was clawing up the books.”

Of course Stephen would want to try and fix things himself even if he wasn’t really equipped for it at the moment. Tony scoffs, pulling Stephen’s attention back to himself. “Why lock yourself in the library going through dusty books when we could be pulling the best prank of all time on the Avengers?” Tony asks. He reaches for the carrier door. “Come on, let’s leave the boring shit to Wong while we do the heavy lifting.”

“Stark, wait!” Wong says, but Tony’s already got the carrier door open.

Fortunately, Stephen doesn’t make a break for it. Instead, he steps out calmly and very distinctly turns his nose up at Wong before making a leap straight from the table to Tony’s shoulder.

“Claws!” Tony yelps, but they quickly retract once Stephen is settled. A warm, soft tail curls around his throat; Tony smiles and reaches up to give Stephen a skitch. It’s very quiet, but Tony thinks he can hear Stephen purr. He turns to Wong. “Portal, please?” 

The look that Wong shoots him as Tony glances back over his unoccupied shoulder is distinctly grateful.

[sisterspooky1013]

Gaslight, Chapter 48/48: Epilogue

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

May 29, 2001

Tonight we bring you an update on the conspiracy that continues to rock the States. Ten months after exposing the major players behind the now defunct Spurious Project, three men identified only as “The Lone Gunmen” were awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, with one of the three men being awarded the medal with distinction due to injuries sustained during an attempted assassination by Spurious operatives.  

As millions of Americans continue to line up to have microchips containing false memories of a global pandemic removed from their necks, the search continues for the individuals at the heart of the project: identified only as ‘subject 101-1’ and ‘subject 101-2.’ While their precise role in the project remains unclear, sources state that they should be considered victims. 

The Spurious Project is purported to be the largest and most well-orchestrated attempt to mislead the public in recorded history. Any Canadian citizen who visited the States between February and March of 2000, or who received a vaccination for the Manatua Virus, should see their doctor as soon as possible to be scanned for a microchip and have it removed if necessary. 

There’s a knock at the door, and Frenchie barks sharply as she skitters across the hardwood. Scully turns the TV off before hoisting herself out of her armchair, fruitlessly attempting to quiet Frenchie with verbal commands. Halfway to the door there’s another knock, and she calls out, “Just a minute!” as she shuffles the rest of the way, already out of breath. On the other side she finds a little boy with messy blonde hair and an RC car hanging from his fingertips, the remote tucked under his arm. 

“Can Zack play?” the boy asks without preamble. 

“Sure,” Scully huffs, then turns to shout down the hallway. “Bear! Micah’s here!”

A moment later Peter trudges down the hall, his own RC car in hand. Scully grabs him by the back of his shirt collar as he prepares to wordlessly walk out the door, and he stops and tips his face up to look at her. His body has softened in the intervening months, rounding out his face and padding his hips beneath his sweatpants. 

“Watch for the car please, okay? Daddy and Bunny will be back from the airport soon.”

Peter nods, and she takes his chin in her hand and kisses his forehead before sending him outside. She watches him walk shoulder-to-shoulder across the lawn beside Micah and tells herself that he’s a typical little boy. One who is fiercely independent because he subconsciously doesn’t expect the adults in his life to meet his needs. One who struggles to stop eating when he’s full because his body remembers a time when his next meal wasn’t guaranteed. One who hoards everything from Q-tips to granola bars in his room, just in case. But he fits right in with the kids in the neighborhood, and is excited to start kindergarten in the fall. Typical, considering all he’s been through, and she’s grateful for it. 

The oven timer beeps and she makes her way to the kitchen, the warm vanilla smell in the air making her mouth water. It’s just a boxed cake, nothing fancy, but she feels emotional as she sets it on top of the oven to cool and gets out supplies for decorating. 

Her life now would be completely unrecognizable to the person she was a year ago, a fact that both relieves and saddens her. As difficult as that time was, it wasn’t all bad. There were happy memories made, and there are people she still misses, as well as places. But the home they’ve made here is a permanent one, both for the sake of the children who have enough to contend with without another international move, and because the risk of returning to the States is simply not one they are willing to take. 

She hears the crunch of tires on gravel and her belly does a nervous little flip, which strikes her as silly. She can’t decide whether to meet them on the front porch, or in the driveway, or maybe just stay here in the kitchen. She’s still pondering this when the screen on the back door snaps and Abby walks in, eyeing Scully curiously as she examines the sweet-smelling cake.  

“Are you okay, Mommy?” Abby asks, and Scully forces herself to smile.

“Yeah, sweetpea, I’m just a little nervous,” she says, reaching out to run her hand through the child’s short-cropped hair, now devoid of blonde. Abby tenses reflexively at her touch, but Scully ignores it. “Did you have fun going to the airport with Daddy?” 

Abby nods, watching Scully’s face. She’s always watching her, measuring her mood and anticipating her reactions. The casual observer would deduce that they’re incredibly close, based on the way Abby never lets Scully out of her sight, but the truth is much more complicated than that. Abby can’t relax unless she knows that Scully is relaxed. She cannot feel safe in a place where Scully is present unless she has taken steps to prophylactically placate her. The outside world sees a little girl who dotes on her mother, but Scully sees a little girl who perceives her mother as a potential threat that she must constantly monitor. It gets better week over week, month over month, and Scully has faith that someday Abby won’t flinch when she reaches for her. 

“Oh my god.”

Scully turns away from Abby and towards the sound of her mother’s voice. She’s standing in the doorway of the kitchen, her hands held over her mouth and her eyes shining. 

“Mom,” Scully says, rushing towards her, tears already pooling in her eyes. 

They embrace awkwardly, both laughing, and just the smell of her mother’s skin, her laundry soap, her shampoo, makes Scully feel like a little girl again. She wishes she could crawl into Maggie’s lap and tell her how hard it’s been, and how much she’s needed her. 

“Look at you,” Maggie says, leaning away and laying a palm on the tight drum of Scully’s stomach. “You look beautiful.”

Scully laughs uncomfortably. “I feel like a whale,” she says. “Sorry I didn’t come to the airport. I can’t sit down for more than twenty minutes without my sciatica acting up.”

“It’s okay,” Maggie says, beaming as she looks between Scully’s belly and her face. “I’m just glad I was finally able to come see you.”

“How long are you staying, Maggie?” Mulder asks as he lumbers in with a bag in each hand as well as one under each arm. “I think you packed for the apocalypse.”

“Oh, half of that is gifts for the kids,” Maggie says, taking two of the bags. “I have a lot of missed spoiling to make up for.”

-

After dinner, Scully brings out the carefully decorated cake and sets it on the table. The mood shifts to something somber as she props up the only two photos they have of Cal against the cake stand: the one of the four of them that Maggie gave her that first day when she woke up in the hospital in Baltimore, as well as the ID Byers had created when they thought Cal would be traveling with them to Canada. She’d secreted them across the border in her luggage against Tom’s direction, unwilling to risk the children forgetting him completely, which she is now exceedingly grateful for. 

“Happy Birthday in Heaven, Daddy,” Abby says as Scully lights the lone candle. 

They sing a low-energy rendition of the birthday song, and the kids blow the candle out together. Their memories of Cal are hazy and don’t feel nearly as significant to them as they do to Scully, but she is steadfastly committed to ensuring that they never forget how much he loved them, all three of them, and that he is remembered for the good he did in this world. 

Scully does the dishes, smiling to herself as she listens to Maggie quiz the children on their lives in the next room. Despite losing their implanted memories of their grandmother, both Abby and Peter seem very comfortable with her, which is a relief. She hears Mulder’s feet on the linoleum before he steps up behind her, running his hands in wide circles over the sides of her belly. 

“Seems like everyone’s getting along,” he says, resting his chin on the crown of her head. 

She feels a flash of foolishness remembering how she cried to him the night before, terrified that the children would receive her mother as a stranger, or that celebrating Cal’s birthday would trigger one of Abby’s flashbacks, or a myriad of other things that would create tension and stress so close to the baby’s impending arrival. Pregnancy has made her feel like an imposter in her own body, betrayed by her unpredictable emotions, and Mulder has been exceedingly patient and supportive with both her and the kids as they adjust to their new circumstances. 

There are still holes in the patchwork of his memory, some pinpricks and some gaping. He’s himself, but a slightly less restless version than she knew before their lives were stolen from them and returned in increments. Still searching and endlessly curious, but not quite so tortured by the unanswerable questions as he once was. Still busy and preoccupied, but not to the degree that he can’t set his current fixation aside and be present with his new family. It’s difficult to say whether the change in him is due to how completely his life has been turned upside down in less than a year, or if maybe some of the memories he never recovered were the ones that haunted him the most. Regardless of the reason, she’s been pleasantly surprised by how easily he’s fallen into the roles of husband and father.  

He bends down a little, hooking his chin over her shoulder and slipping his hands under the water alongside hers. Scully smiles and glances toward the living room, then pushes her backside against him to the greatest degree that she’s able, given her belly and the obstruction of the countertop. 

“Are you trying to start something, Mrs. Manningham?” he asks playfully. 

Scully tilts her head to the side and Mulder kisses her neck. 

“At first I thought it was infatuation,” he sings quietly, brushing his lips across her skin. “But oooo it’s lasted so long. Now I find myself wanting to marry you and take you home.”

Scully closes her eyes and sways back and forth, feeling so happy it almost hurts. Then the tears come, as they are wont to do, running down her chin and leaving wet splotches on the gray cotton T-shirt stretched over her belly. Mulder doesn’t ask her what’s wrong or make a fuss over it, he just dries his hands and then her cheeks, then kisses her and tells her to go visit with her mom while he finishes in the kitchen. 

By the time the kitchen is cleaned up and the children are in bed, Scully is too exhausted to socialize any further, and she excuses herself to take a bath while Mulder and Maggie share a bottle of wine. In the tub, she wets a washcloth and lays it over her belly for warmth, more relaxed than she can remember feeling in quite some time. She hears her mother laugh from the living room and she smiles and closes her eyes. She must have started to drift, because her belly is suddenly cold and Mulder is crouched beside the tub, brushing his index finger down the bridge of her nose. 

“I thought we agreed to no sleeping in the bath,” he admonishes her lightly, the sour smell of wine on his breath. 

“I wasn’t sleeping,” she mumbles, sitting up and taking his hand as he helps her out of the tub. 

They both get ready for bed and he curls himself around her beneath the covers, one hand resting on her belly. 

“How do you feel?” he asks quietly. 

“Hmmm, tired,” she says on a yawn, hoping he takes the hint. 

“I mean emotionally. Having your mom here, Cal’s birthday. You holding up okay?”

With great effort she rolls to her back, her belly protruding towards the ceiling like a mountain summit. The baby squirms, jabbing her rib cage uncomfortably, and she grabs Mulder’s hand to lay it over the place where he might be able to feel movement. 

“I’m really good, actually,” she says. “It feels like…closure, maybe. Or something similar to that. Like we can finally start moving forward.”

Mulder nods, giving her three quick kisses before she rolls back to her side. She falls asleep quickly, no longer afraid that someone is about to break the door down and take away everything that matters. No longer feeling like her life is not her own. 

She dreams that dream again, the one with the green countertops and Mulder spinning her around in his kitchen. The one of a love so strong that neither man nor science could destroy it. The one that she simply wouldn’t forget, no matter how hard they tried to make her. 

Tagging @today-in-fic

[andypantsx3]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

Thank you to @itoshisoup @saetyrn9 and @seravphs for the tags!! I am late and so I apologize if I’ve missed any other tags while I was out!!

I want to say I think this is such a cute idea. I am very proud of how hard I’ve worked on my fics, and I am grateful for the chance to give my Andie director's cut lmfao even if I kind of wanted to curl up like a pill bug writing this.

Um, I think in no particular order, these are my top 5 recs of the moment:

Deceiving the Duke | Shouto x Reader

When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a lady’s maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.

I am a huge fan of regency romances and I have incredible respect for them as massive drivers of the romance genre as a whole. So it sort of shocked me when I was talking to Mermie and Cat and we realized we hadn't seen any x Reader regency fics (although I am certain they are out there)!! As much as I love a good pro hero AU (my bread and butter), I really appreciated the chance to try my hand at something that's a little lesser explored in this niche. It's kind of messy in retrospect but I had so much fun working on it that I'll let past Andie off the hook for that.

2. ab intra | Shinsou x Reader

When a wave of disturbing crimes sweep the city, underground hero Hitoshi Shinsou is assigned to work the case with you. What’s even more frustrating than his obnoxious personality is the fact no one will tell you why he’s involved. Things only get more suspicious from there.

This fic was the first time I really sat down and tried my hand at a case fic. I was reading a bunch of Japanese police thrillers at the time, and although my attempt does not measure up, it gave me the tools to understand how to better execute on case fics in the future. Again I really liked trying my hand at something I'm not necessarily good at, because it was fun and I learned a lot. This is probably my most distinct out of all my fics in terms of tone and subject material!!

3. unconventional | Midoriya x Reader

HeroExpo is incredible, and that’s not even counting the really cute hero fanboy you just met. Well, you think he might be cute under that Deku cosplay. It’s hard to tell because it’s really, really good. Like, too good.

I was so nervous to try my hand at Izuku that I actually thought about not publishing this one several times. But this ended up being one of my all-time favorites to write and I get really nostalgic for the time of my life I was in while I was working on this. The fic was so light and fun and such a comfort to write, and to this day I am very touched by how kind people are about Izuku's characterization. It makes me feel really good. 🥺

4. vested interest | Shouto x Reader

You’d just thought Shouto was absent minded, accidentally leaving behind a jacket or a sweater or his vest. You didn’t realize this was a thing. (In which Todoroki Shouto—despite his quirk—has zero chill, and uses his clothes to ward off other men.)

I am probably best known for my Shouto fic if i could keep cool, but vested interest is actually my favorite child!! In retrospect this one is messy too but I had the absolute time of my peddling my little shit Shouto agenda. This fic actually forms the backbone of how I characterize Shouto currently, with just a touch more of spoiled youngest child energy than I had been doing previously. :) Viva la jealous Sho.

5. incendiary | Bakugou x Reader

When you accidentally go viral in defense of quirkless people, an extremist group puts a target on your back. Pro hero Dynamight is the last person you want watching it.

This is the fic I have worked the hardest on and I am very proud of it (and excited to publish the next chapter when I get back)!! This is my only attempt to tackle an issue of real substance and I am very grateful for the perspective I have been given by my sensitivity readers @cat-slippered and @darkenedniqhts.

I also feel really protective over this one as it got plagiarized and slightly rewritten into something that exploded in popularity and massively outstripped this fic. Though handling that situation was uncomfortable, and this feels like a strange thing to say, it was a good ego check for me. It reminded me that I still have a lot of growing to do as a writer if I want my ideas to be unique and memorable enough that a situation like this won't arise again. I will work hard.

My no pressure tags (and sorry if you've already been tagged!!) @restwellsoon @bobawithpomegranate @darkenedniqhts @cat-slippered @ofmermaidstories @willowser @lorelune @petrichorium @heich0e @sipsteainanxiety @shibaraki @kedsandtubesocks @potionpeddlerpatchy @meggsngrits @coopigeoncoo @crowned-peony @stellamancer @namodawrites @streimiv @ghost-flakes @ghostbeam @kimkaelyn also @procrastination-artist @bluebird-in-the-breeze @acerathia bc I love ur stuff even if I know u have a smaller fic count.

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

@mlgssy asked for the prompts "Those rumors about us are getting annoying. How many times do we have to tell them we aren’t together?" and "Come back to bed." for Fred/Kelly (and you all know how much it pains me to write some Fred/Kelly) from a few different prompt lists that I didn't actually recognize, but they looked like a lot of fun.

So anyway! Here goes.

---

Olivia-G291 bounced nervously on the balls of her feet out in the hallway. She had been tasked with what was probably the most dangerous mission of her life, and it took a few moments to amp herself up and get enough courage to actually go through with it.

After several moments of hemming and hawing, the young woman finally decided that enough was enough. It was time to bite the bullet - hopefully only figuratively - and get things done. With only a slight tremor, she lifted her hand and knocked gently on the door to the quarters she had been squatting outside for nearly twenty minutes now.

It took exactly forty-eight seconds for the door to slide open a few inches. "It's 0230," came the gruff voice of Kelly-087 from in the dark recesses of her personal quarters. "What do you need?"

O swallowed nervously. "Ash and Mark had a question for the LT," she said, quieter than she had meant to. Her palms were sweaty and her throat was suddenly very dry.

Kelly poked her head out of the door to raise one eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. Her hair dangled loose, for once not in her signature ponytail, and the blue-dyed ends shone in the fluorescent hallway lights. "If you're looking for Fred, why are you at my door?" she demanded.

O swallowed again. "Well, he wasn't answering at his quarters, and he wasn't in the gym or the cafeteria, so we figured - well, Ash figured, really - that he might be..." she was jabbering now. For someone who had such a skill for silence, she couldn't seem to shut up at this point. "Well, I told Ash that he should come knock, since it was his question, but he told me that I'm the only one that Fred wouldn't kill tomorrow morning if I happened to interrupt you two. You see, he seems to think that I'm Fred's favorite, which is ridiculous because-"

"Enough," Kelly said firmly. O found herself very grateful for the excuse to actually close her mouth. "First," Kelly said, raising a finger to count her points, "Fred isn't here. Second, of course you're his favorite, don't be ridiculous. And third, those rumors are starting to get annoying. How many times do we have to tell you that there is nothing going on between he and I? Honestly, it's-"

Kelly fell silent when the distinct sound of a tired groan echoed out from the room behind her.

O, momentarily forgetting her abject fear of the older Spartan in favor of her ravenous curiosity, leaned forward slightly to try to get a peek into the room. "Was that...?"

"It was nothing," Kelly answered sharply. The look in her electric blue eyes dared O to challenge her.

O did not take that dare.

"Kelly come back to bed, it's cold," Nothing rumbled, its voice sounding shockingly similar to what O imagined one Lieutenant Junior Grade Frederic-104's voice might sound like if he were woken up in the middle of the night, his voice rough and his mind slightly disoriented from sleep.

Kelly's head drooped and she sighed dejectedly, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "I don't know why I bother," she muttered under her breath.

The younger Spartan took a step back, her hands raised. "Well, I think I'll just... go tell the others that he wasn't here," she said quickly, already turning and jogging back the way she had come.

Kelly didn't answer; she just retreated into her quarters and slid the door shut behind her.

[snowbellewells]

MY CSSNS23 MC: "Carolina Moon" {prologue}

**Thank you SO MUCH to my event artist @eastwesthomeisbest for the absolutely amazing cover art she created (in much less time than I should have afforded her). I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE it, and am thrilled to be able to put it with each update of my story. Also, I'm so grateful to have @xarandomdreamx as my beta for this fic as well, though I did not give her this prologue, so any mistakes here are absolutely and unfortunately mine! And thank you too to the @cssns as a whole for once again providing such a great event of which to be a part!!***

Here is my second submission to the @cssns23 event!! This one is a modern au of the Nora Roberts novel and subsequent tv movie Carolina Moon. The main female character in the movie is psychic/clairvoyant (I’ll admit, I’m not too sure about the distinction between the two) and I thought her visions and what she goes through in connection to them made a nice real-world parallel to Emma’s magic. (There’s also a scene in here where the male lead says something that I could so perfectly see Killian saying to Emma… I just cannot wait to get to that point!)

Anyway, I hope you will enjoy this romantic thriller with some murder mystery elements.  There are some instances of abuse and violence in here though - which I feel like I should mention, since that’s a little darker than my typical style. Most of them are in flashbacks of Emma’s past, or in visions she has of victims, more than in the actual present day plot; still I wanted to make people aware before we got too far.

Please enjoy! (I’d love to hear what you think.)

Prologue

July 1993

The water at their hideaway always feels so good. She could sink into it until her head slips below the surface and never, ever want to come up for air. It’s cooler, more luxurious than even the rich, satiny sheets on the trundle bed those rare nights when she gets to sleep over at Rose’s. Emma Swan’s gangly, 13-year-old limbs slice through the murky water as if the constant humidity and sultry air of Storybrooke, South Carolina can’t penetrate here in their little forest haven. She knows, of course, logically, that the real world isn’t all that far away. The shaded pond she and Rose discovered two summers ago is just a short trek into the woods at the furthest edge of Rose’s family’s boundless acreage. Still, it feels removed enough to bring Emma a sense of peace and contentment she gains nowhere else.

Looking over her shoulder to the large, smooth boulder jutting out of the pond at the bank where they left their flip flops and cutoff denim shorts, she can see her best friend stretched out with her new book where they had spread their towels on the rock’s surface, just in the wash of warming sunlight that streams through the tree branches overhead. Rose’s flawlessly creamy pale skin is prone to burning, but at the moment her friend seems willing to take the risk for the benefit of lazing cozily to read as she dries in the sun after taking a quick dip. Shaking her head, Emma plunges back under, happy to stay in the chilly water a bit longer herself. She knew as soon as they’d met outside Rose’s house that afternoon, and she had seen that Rose held a new Boxcar Children book in her hand, that her friend would not be able to resist burrowing into those pages for long.

It’s funny, Emma supposes, but that’s exactly what bonded she and Rose Jones in the first place. They might seem different on the surface, but in the end, neither of them quite fit with everyone else, and so they gravitate to each other, and have ever since Emma first arrived in Storybrooke as an eight-year-old orphan. They are each willing to give the other at least one person who takes them as they are and with whom they won’t have to pretend. Emma doesn’t care if Rose wants to read quietly and tell her about the stories she’s already finished instead of picking out dresses for the next cotillion class or preening in front of the mirror, practicing batting her eyelashes to charm boys or bragging to Emma about which ones she intends to kiss. Her sister Ruby, who shares the same thickly shining, burnished mahogany hair and pretty pink lips but little of her fraternal twin’s calming, gentle personality, does enough of that for the both of them. Their mother, a former debutante and southern belle, delights in the one daughter’s traditional coquettishness, and despairs of the other’s shyness. Cora Jones is a true throwback to another time who wants nothing more than to see both her daughters marry well and retain their places atop the social ladder. Emma could not care any less about such details; she is already clinging to the very bottom rung of such a social structure - if she and the so-called guardians with whom she lives are on the ladder at all. In turn, Rose doesn’t mock Emma for her thick, dark-framed glasses or secondhand clothes, nor does she cringe away from the “fits” that sometimes take hold of her friend, making strange, disturbing scenes Emma can’t understand flash across her mind with such intensity they sometimes knock her off her feet. Emma knows Rose’s mother and sister find her an unsuitable and embarrassing companion for Rose, but she is eternally grateful her friend seems able to see the best in anyone - even a lost girl nobody else wants - and so blithely acts as though she has no idea about the rest of her family’s opinions.

Cringing even while still submerged in the pond’s depths and practically invisible, Emma tries not to think of her unwanted visions. Her strict, hypocritical, and more than a bit deranged, foster father claims she’s possessed - and more than once has taken her episodes out of her hide. The man swears he’s beating the devil out of her and putting the fear of God in Satan’s place when he takes the thick leather strap to her shoulders, back and legs until she bleeds, but Emma has already lived long enough in a cruel and unfair world to know that his violence and “discipline” have less to do with parenting and concern for her soul, and more to show for his own twisted mind and overindulgence in the bottle. She wants to hide her spells from him, but when they come on her so abruptly and with such power, they are impossible to miss. She can’t fathom how a person like him was deemed fit to take in and care for a child, but mistreatment and injustice seem to be her lot in life thus far, and so she simply grits her teeth and survives.

It’s different though when the spells happen around Rose; the slight brunette merely rests a cool, steadying hand on Emma’s forehead or her arm until they pass, then she helps Emma stand until she feels in control again, listens as she attempts to make sense of whatever she’s seen, and most importantly… believes her. If only she could stay in the huge house Rose’s family calls home. She’d cook, clean, do chores, even stay in the servant’s quarters; Emma isn’t picky. It would still be a far sight safer than the situation she has in the rundown shack with the monster who’d been deemed her caretaker. Barring that, she would honestly rather live wild in these woods and survive off the land. She knew which plants and berries were safe to eat; Graham, her first friend, once a fellow orphan now happily adopted, had shown her ages ago, as well as taught her how to fish. It wouldn’t be easy, but she’d get by, and at least no one would lay a hand on her again.

This afternoon, those eerie images she sometimes has seem far away as she splashes up out of the water, trying to arc playfully like a mermaid as she breaks the surface. Drawing in a big gulp of air after staying underwater so long, Emma startles at the sound of teasing laughter, and whirls to see three figures on the bank where she and Rose left their shoes and shorts. 

“Well, look here,” calls out a taunting voice that never fails to set Emma’s nerves on edge. “It’s the baby beached librarian and her drowned rat friend!” None other than Emma’s nemesis, Killian Jones, crows from his vantage point on dry land.

Rose sits up ramrod straight, book still in hand and annoyed scowl on her face at Killian and his friends’ interruption to the quiet peace of their sanctuary. She isn’t genuinely angry, though; for all that she and her sister share little in common, she and her two-years-older brother are affectionately close. “Shut up, Killy!” she shoots back, throwing in the childhood nickname they all know he hates. “Who asked you to come looking anyway?”

The boy standing next to Killian speaks up next, making Emma scowl just as playfully as Rose had moments before. Graham Hunter might as well be her big brother; he’s the closest thing she’s had to family since her parents were lost in a car crash and she was thrown into the foster care system. Be that as it may, he and Killian Jones are thick as thieves, and he’ll give her a hard time for all he’s worth while in the presence of his buddy. “We just wanted to swim,” he calls across the water to the two girls, smirking at Emma, who now stands in the water with one hip jutting out and hands planted on her waist. “How were we supposed to know you two were infesting it?”

“Ha!” Emma jeers back, the affront plain in her voice; despite the fact that the entire routine is like a practiced girls-versus-boys exchange they’ve all engaged in countless times. There isn’t much else to do for entertainment in their sleepy little one-horse town. “You idiots know this is Rose’s and my hideaway, fair and square!”

“Well, Rose’s anyway,” a third voice cuts in snidely.

The cruel jab reminds Emma once more that to most folks she is just a charity case, quite possibly only included in anything at all because of her friend’s kind heart, and at the intentional slight, cuts her gaze to the third member of the boys’ little crew, skulking a step back in the shadows behind where Killian and Graham stand, as he always does. Her green eyes narrow to slits in genuine dislike and suspicion. Where before her animosity was largely for show, when they land on Walsh Ozman, it is all too real.

She has never understood why the other two boys - jokers and annoyances though they may be, but good guys when it comes right down to it - hang out with Walsh at all.  Where Graham and Killian are much more cut from the same cloth - athletic, outgoing, well-liked and pleasant - Walsh is a splindy, sniveling character, complaining and whining whatever their little trio gets up to. He lives not far from Emma’s foster father’s cabin with his single mother - a bushy-haired redhead who seems strangely overprotective and attached to her only child. Most people give the property a wide berth, except when high schoolers teepee it the whole month of October, and the general town consensus is that Zelena Ozman might be a witch and to steer clear. Still, beyond all of that, Emma might have been able to look past the boy’s circumstances and see him for himself - she of all people knew the gift it was not to be judged by where a person came from - if Walsh hadn’t simply given her “the willies”. Even standing too close to him made the fine hairs at the nape of her neck stand on end - and not in the way that nearness to Killian sometimes did; an altogether much more pleasant tingle, even if she was just as unable to explain one as the other.

“We could take their things,” Walsh suggests, holding up the threadbare, faded jeans Emma had left on the bank. “Make them walk back in their skivvies.” The wicked smile on his face makes Emma’s stomach turn over sickly.

Something sharp flashes in Jones’ eyes, his nostrils flaring slightly and his head giving a subtle shake of dissent that Emma can see even at the distance she stands away from him. Protectiveness, chivalry, or maybe the honor of a southern gentleman passed down to him through generations of his impressive family line; whatever it is, it sparks to life in his eyes at that moment as he quashes Walsh’s mean-spirited suggestion in no uncertain terms. “That’s my little sister you’re talking about Oz,” he growls, smacking the worn material from the smaller’s boy’s hands, even if the article of clothing isn’t Rose’s at all.

Emma feels her breath rush back into her lungs, though she continues to watch the guys warily for whatever they might do or say next. Before long, they grow bored of standing around and move on, hollering out age old taunts of “Bye, losers” and “Hey, smell ya later” to Emma’s derisive snort and Rose completely ignoring them to flip open her book again.

However, even with the intruders gone, it seems as if the perfect comfort of their retreat has been shattered by the unsettling interruption.  Soon, Emma wades to the shore and Rose clambers down from her perch, to dress once more and return to the world outside. For a moment, as she refastens her jeans around her skinny waist, Emma feels a strange prickling along the fine hairs on her arms… like they’re being watched. She jerks around, searching the surrounding trees and brush, but can’t see or hear a thing.

Rose’s small hand takes hers, snapping Emma out of the moment. “What is it?” she whispers, only true caring in her voice. “Did you sense something?”

Emma nods, but can’t give her suspicions voice. Usually her visions are clearer than that - this had just been heavy breathing and like looking at herself and Rose through another person’s eyes, outside her own body.

Rose stooped to grab the little canvas bag she’d bought along with water bottles, towels, and a second book in it. “Hey, don’t worry, okay?” she offers, hopeful and kind as always. “You’ll figure it out. Wanna meet back out here tonight? Secret Sister bonfire?” she winks mischeivously. “I have to get to dinner now. You know how Mama hates it if I’m not washed up and properly attired for the evening meal - or a second late. But we can talk some more then, maybe you’ll remember more and it will be clearer.”

Emma nods gamely. “The stars’ll be beautiful by midnight,” she suggests. “And we’ll definitely have the place all to ourselves.”

“Since we were so rudely interrupted,” Rose chimes in with a giggle and roll of her eyes.

“Shake on it, pinkie swear,” they say together in practiced unison, executing a complex handshake that ends with their pinkies hooked together and wide, matching grins on both their faces.

“Thanks Rose,” Emma whispers sincerely, trying to speak around the lump in her throat as if it’s no big deal. “I’ll be out here as soon as I can sneak away.”

Rose, for her part, wraps her taller, golden-haired friend into a tight, momentary hug. “Hey, we’re Secret Sisters! You can count on me.  I’ll see you then!”

They part ways at the edge of the forest; Emma heading to the rundown cabin that serves as her nightmarish version of a home, and Rose to the pristine Jones family mansion standing tall over all the surrounding land. Rose looks back over her shoulder with a smile and wave that bolsters Emma, and the memory fades back into the haze of the past…

Eighteen years later….

September 2011

The blaring of the horn as a sports car whizzed by, barely missing the nose of Emma’s beat-up yellow VW where it had begun to edge out into the country intersection, jarred her back to the present with a gasp and painful jolt to her chest. Panting for a moment as she gripped the steering wheel, Emma tried to clear her head and calm the pounding of her heart at the near-miss.

‘Get it together,’ she berated herself. It might have seemed like only yesterday as she remembered that sunny afternoon at the swimming hole, but that day had been nearly two decades ago. She was a grown woman, had made a way for herself, fighting tooth and nail for every step forward, and she answered to no one. She had learned to stand up for her rights and her needs, to control her visions and use them for good, and had even served a special consultant for the Boston PD. But, more than all of that, she had come back to this place to find peace, to lay to rest the ghosts that had followed her everywhere else she’d gone in the years between, once and for all. If she expected others to leave the past in the past, she would first have to manage to do the same.

She’d had no way to know as she and Rose parted that afternoon with promises and plans for later that it would be the last time she would ever see her friend. Emma had harbored the pain and the guilt and the unanswered questions ever since. Finally, it was time to meet the gazes of all of those who had stared at her in suspicion before she’d been packed up and moved away once more, and it was time she found answers. She wasn’t the scared, whipped, mistreated adolescent she had been at 13. What she had lived through then was not her fault, nor was what had happened to Rose that muggy July midnight. 

And if she had to return to Storybrooke, South Carolina to lay that burden down… well, it was long past time she did.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @cssns @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @stahlop @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @wefoundloveunderthelight @eastwesthomeisbest @xarandomdreamx @sotangledupinit @justanother-unluckysoul @booksteaandtoomuchtv @kazoosandfannypacks @anmylica @motherkatereloyshipper @jonesfandomfanatic @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @xsajx @lfh1226-linda @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @darkcolinodonorgasm @resident-of-storybrooke @drowned-dreamer @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @blackwidownat2814 @blowmiakisscolin @let-it-raines

[yourghostwrotethis]

Fic Recs #1

It's two A.M.. I'm not quite sure what to do because I'm not sleepy. Why not do a small recommendation list?

Actual recs under the cut. Read until the end!

All of these are pre-season 2, and take place in the show universe.

Talk About It (T)

by hope_in_the_dark (on Tumblr as @hope-inthedark)

Aziraphale and Crowley have been best friends for sixteen years. Crowley's been in love with Aziraphale for almost that long. When Aziraphale tells his family that he'll be bringing his boyfriend to his step-brother's wedding, things get a bit complicated. A Fake Dating AU.

Word count: 20806 (Complete)

I love fake dating AUs SO MUCH. And this is for sure one of the best ones out there. It's the perfect length, and there are snapshots through time that are simply lovely. I'm usually not a fan of the "long-time friends" trope, but this fic does it wonderfully. I don't want to say much more because I don't want to spoil anything but - it's great. Read it.

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The Curve of Old Bones (E)

by Jenanigans1207 (@jenanigans1207)

Aziraphale watches as Crowley’s smile grows, sharpens and turns distinctively dastardly. And even though Aziraphale knows what he’s in store for, he’s entirely unprepared for the words that slip out of Crowley’s mouth next. “Name’s Anthony Crowley, Aziraphale’s husband.” Aziraphale is eternally grateful that he wasn’t taking a sip of his tea at that exact moment for he would’ve surely choked on it. -- When Crowley claims to be Aziraphale's husband to ruin what he assumes is a date, he doesn't think anything of it. But a day later it comes back to bite him in the ass when Crowley finds out that the date in question is, in fact, his new boss, who is looking to hire Aziraphale and hoping that Crowley, his husband, will put in a good word for them. Now Crowley is caught in a tight spot: either admit to his new boss that he was lying, or convince Aziraphale, his sort-of enemy, to pretend to be his husband to save face.

Words: 201271 (Complete)

Fair warning before you start: this one is LONG. I read really fast and even for me, this took a while. Every word is beautiful, but this is (well. Partly.) a slooooooww burn. If you don't like pining, or the two main ones being idiots: don't read this. But if you decide to give it a go, this story is absolutely worth your while.

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Married at First Sight (T)

by Aracloptia (@aracloptia)

“Well, that was a thing,” Crowley said once they were out of earshot. Without talking about it, they were both heading down the field, towards the lake where the photographer (and likely a few more people from the TV crew) was waiting. “That was a wedding,” Aziraphale replied, surprised at his own annoyance that somebody called a wedding a ‘thing’. “Yeah, obviously, didn’t miss that part,” Crowley said with a shrug, and waved abruptly in Aziraphale’s general direction. “Neither did you, from the looks of it, since you’re dressed like a wedding bride and everything.” “Excuse me, I am a—“ Aziraphale stopped himself, and started over.

——— In which Aziraphale ends up marrying a rude stranger who wears sunglasses.

Words: 92583 (Ongoing)

Ha. Yet another fake relationship AU... This time it's a fake marriage! But it's so so so cute and lovely and if it were corporeal I would want to squish its cheeks. There's a bit of miscommunication, so people who don't like that can be cautious, but it gets resolved and they become the better for having gone through it.

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The Next Time We Wed (T)

by seashadows (@godihatethisfreakingcat)

“Guys, I’ve looked at the marriage license,” Anathema said, “and I’ve gotten copies of our notices and everything. The names on the documents aren’t Newt’s and mine anymore. Apparently they never were. They’re yours.” When a drunken attempt to help a friend gets Crowley and Aziraphale accidentally married, their decision to fake it instead of fix it changes their relationship in a way neither of them realizes the other wants. Over the course of a few short months, two supernatural beings discover that there are plenty of things they don’t know about each other, two humans finally get married (again), and everyone learns how to be a little braver.

Words: 21131 (Complete)

The footnotes. The FOOTNOTES. I love a good footnote, and this fic is riddled with them. It's one of the very first Good Omens fics I read and loved, so it has a special place in my heart. The humour drew me in immediately, and the plot and emotional moments kept me in. READ IT. READ IT NOW, I SAY.

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Everything That's Meant (T)

by journeytogallifrey (@journeytogallifrey)

When two unconventional lead actors are cast in the series adaptation of Agnes Nutter's Prophecies, sparks fly and new ground is broken. Aziraphale Fell, classically trained and known for powerful biopics, yearns for a popular lead but is hindered by his brother's insistence that he stay in the closet. Anthony J. Crowley has perfected flashy, charismatic villains, but wonders if a hero will ever be on the cards for him. With Aziraphale as the angel Raphael and Crowley as the demon Asmodeus, something feels... off. But a breakthrough during a late-night rehearsal sets into motion something greater than they ever dreamed. Now all they have to do is overcome nefarious producers, bigotry, and a set that seems to be haunted by all manner of spirits and curses - all while falling for each other in a way Crowley finds exhilarating and Aziraphale finds terrifying. If they can survive it all, they'll come out the other side with the series of their career... and maybe even a chance at their own happily ever after. ~~~ Pre-written; updates daily until complete!

Words: 105043 (Complete)

I was lucky enough to witness this as it was updating, and it's wonderful! I'm very fond of actor AUs, and this was a great one. Journeytogallifrey made good choices, and there are plenty of moments where I audibly laughed, gasped, or cried. Special mention to Crowley's relationship with gender.

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wasteland, baby (M)

by john1513 (@alwayscomewhenyoucall)

“Listen. Fell. I...I might, uh, have an idea.” “You do?” Aziraphale said, and hated the hopeful way he said it. “I’ll do it.” “You...won’t like it.” “Will it keep me out of prison?” “Maybe. Maybe the both of us. For now. Ideally.” “Then yes.” Crowley’s expression tightened, and Aziraphale wasn’t sure if Crowley wanted to cry, or laugh. “You really, really won’t like it.” “I’ll like prison less.” He responded plainly. Crowley’s face twisted into something soft at first, just for a second, before searing into a careful little smirk, and Aziraphale knew that smile, that Cheshire cat smile, much too well to not be cautious. “Crowley, dear. What are you doing on the floor?” He cleared his throat. “Angel. Remember when I said you wouldn’t like it? Well, uh, here we are.” His smile grew awkwardly, apologetically, and Aziraphale had a sinking feeling about it. “Angel. Will you marry me?” ----- Crowley and Aziraphale plan a fake marriage to avoid having to testify against each other in court...they get much more than they bargained for.

Words: 45748 (Complete)

I found this while looking for fake relationships, but I'm not quite sure the term applies. It's just so sweet and kind and GOOD and fluffy. If you like both being nice, go here. And even if you don't. It's technically a mafia AU even though I forgot about that part so there's a little bit of grittiness nonetheless. Overall a very nice read.

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And finally, for the last one...

Fifty-Two Blue (M)

by bendycello (@bendycello )

It would be a gross understatement to say that Crowley simply didn't like Aziraphale. He was posh and stuffy and arrogant, and Crowley couldn't figure out why everyone else in the program liked him so much. It hardly mattered; they were competitors, and Crowley didn't need to make friends to become a surgeon. It takes several unleasant encounters, the excessive use of house plants as a coping mechanism, and getting stuck in an elevator for Crowley to start reconsidering his priorities. Or... Crowley and Aziraphale are surgical interns with competitive streaks a mile wide each, and they really do not like each other at all. Until they do. (This whole fic is pre-written and completed, and updates will usually be weekly on Saturdays!)

Words: 37976 (Ongoing)

So. Anyone who knows me well knows that this is on my mind 24/7. I post about it fairly regularly. I go insane when a new chapter is up. It's *The* Fic. When I started this I knew this was going to be there. I can't even describe it it's just SO GOOD ARGH. (it's also long) I've read it so much Chrome automatically sorted it into one of my most visited websites. (I'm not even kidding.) The humour is perfect, the plot is too, the CHARACTERISATION. OH MY GOD. IT'S SO GOOD AND SO COMPLEX. I'm trying to stop myself from going on a rant about it because it could last for a while.

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I also love receiving recs, so if anyone wants to boost their fic or wants to share a great one, please do!

I really like fake dating (if you couldn't guess), human AUs, all that sort of thing. But please feel free to share anything that doesn't deal with those themes!

I'm OwlWolf22091 on Ao3, in case you want to check out other bookmarks :P

[tomorrowxtogether]

Growing up with TOMORROW X TOGETHER: navigating the world and your youth with the rising K-pop group

Growing up is never as easy as it’s made out to seem. It’s confusing and draining and conjures up emotions you didn’t even know existed, let alone know how to deal with. It’s tough but hey, everyone goes through it, just ask TOMORROW X TOGETHER (TXT).

Since their debut in 2019, the K-pop boy group have been piecing together a fantastical coming-of-age story rooted in reality, sharing all the chaos, triumphs, revelations, frustrations, and angst of growing up in the 21st century.

From trying to find your place in the world and dealing with imposter syndrome to the bliss of falling in love and the pitfalls of heartbreak, Soobin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Hueningkai have been navigating through the intricacies of love, life, and loss of your 20s with their music—and in a way, with us.

“We talk about growing up in our music, and I think we feel so proud whenever our fans say that they relate to our music and feel comforted. We want to continue to share our stories through our music and grow alongside our fans,” said Soobin, in an interview with Bandwagon. 

Their discography, in which each member lyrically and musically contributes to, tracks the ups and downs of growing up, each “chapter” unravelling a new set of hurdles and challenges against the backdrop of graceful yet powerful choreography.

“We try to tell our story and the story of our generation as we see it, so it’s natural for us to participate in the making of the album,” said Yeonjun. “Over the years as our contribution grew, we were able to really hone and refine our distinctive sound, which is something that we’re so proud of.”

“During the past four years, we’ve continued to challenge ourselves with new sound and style, and I think that allowed our musical scope to expand. The members’ participation in the making of the album grew over the years, and all of us became better artists and creators that constantly inspire each other,” added Hueningkai.

Unsurprisingly, their stories and music found a home in thousands of people across the world, Most particularly during the height of the pandemic, TXT gave fans, who they lovingly call Moments Of Alwaysness or MOA, a sense of hope and comfort that maybe growing up is not so scary after all.

Centered around their authentic journeys of growth and catchy hits, TXT are one of the most exciting groups to come out of the K-pop scene today. Carving out a path of their own, the ‘Sugar Rush Ride’ act has risen in global popularity over the years—even recently booking a headlining performance at this year’s Lollapalooza.

The forthcoming performance comes on the heels of their music festival debut (also at Lollapalooza) and first world tour, ACT: LOVE SICK last year, all of which TXT are immensely grateful for.

“It hasn’t been too long since we’ve got to meet our fans face-to-face, so it took us a bit of getting used to. As we toured around the world and performed at Lollapalooza, we were able to enjoy ourselves a lot more, and it was just amazing to see our fans in front of us again and feel their love and energy vividly,” shared Soobin.

Most recently, TXT kicked off their second world tour, ACT: SWEET MIRAGE. The tour opened with a two-day concert in Seoul before heading back to Southeast Asia, starting with Singapore last weekend.

“It’s our very first show in Singapore so we’re very excited! It was such a pleasure to tour Southeast Asia for our ACT: LOVE SICK world tour last year. The fans’ energy was incredible, and we want to return that same energy this time around,” said Taehyun ahead of their Singapore concert on 1 April. 

Much like their music, the tour sees personal touches from the members, with each of them contributing ideas to the setlist and stage production.

From the very beginning of their rehearsals to the moments before heading out on stage—where Hueningkai shared they stretch, do vocal warm-ups, and take a minute to calm down, every concert comes as a product of hard work, dedication, and love from the group.

“We’ll perform the new tracks from our latest album, so our fans will be able to watch a lot of never-been-seen performances. We also put in a lot of ourideas into the setlist and the overall flow of the concert, so I think that will just make itmuch more special,” said Beomgyu.

Like a lot of us, TXT began 2023 by opening a new chapter (The Name Chapter: TEMPTATION) of their lives. What the rest of this new chapter holds for all of us is uncertain but there's no doubt that Soobin, Yeonjun, Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Hueningkai will be right there walking with us through its ups and downs.

TXT will continue their ACT: SWEET MIRAGE this April in Taipei and several cities in Japan before heading out to North America. 

[lillyanne4writes]

JJK/Gege Akutami appreciation post

Yeah, you read that title right. I get it that the entire fandom is upset with the latest leaks but I've seen so many angry/hateful comments toward Gege and it's making me sad. So here's a post to highlight some things I like about JJK. :)

This is in no way a complete list, so feel free to add on with your own takes too! Also, it's a long post, so I'm putting the meat of it under the cut.

The characters & their dynamics

Jjk has a huge cast, and yet every character is so unique and compelling. The reason I got into this anime (and later the manga) despite not really being into anime in general was how charming the main four characters were. Yuuji, Nobara, Megumi and Gojo immediately hooked me; I could probably watch 10 seasons of a slice of life show that's just them getting into shenanigans.

Fun interactions aside, my favourite thing about the characterisation is how everyone in this manga is allowed to have their own view on the world, especially on what it means to live a good life and die a good death. The narrative allows those views to clash without preaching about who is "correct". Characters disagree and learn from each other and their views develop organically (not necessarily in a positive direction, but always dynamically in a response to the situations they find themselves in - Yuuji's arc on how he views himself and his goals comes to mind). That stuff is really hard to write.

And it's not just the main cast either. The supporting characters are very memorable too; even minor ones have distinct personalities and clear motivations and often a backstory to explain why they are the way they are. My personal favourite background characters are Mai, Noritoshi and Tsumiki.

The worldbuilding

Can we talk about how creative the concept of curses and cursed energy is? Negative emotions accumulating into physical manifestations of things that people fear, hate, etc. is a hell of a cool idea. This is why the curse villains are my favourites in the series: from Mahito as a representation of the worst of humanity in his childish glee and sadism and cowardice to Jogo's philosophy of curses as "true beings" because they don't hide their nature and Hanami's almost sympathetic care for nature are all interesting explorations of how we view the world around us that would not be possible in a different kind of magic system. Add to that the array of creative techniques that sorcerers possess, the cursed objects, and the grade system that conveniently allows us to keep track of the danger levels of all this - you get an impressively complex magic system that still remains understandable (and fun to watch even if you don't want to keep track of the nitty-gritty and are just here for the spectacle).

Not to mention that jujutsu society is, well, a society. We get a sense of who the powerful and the oppressed are in this community, how their powers factor into that, how different characters feel about this, what they are doing to change it or on the contrary, to keep the traditions going... Every character exists in the web of a clear power structure which they interact with, influencing it and being influenced in turn. This results in a super interesting dynamic where certain characters can be enemies one moment (for example when the Kyoto students try to kill Yuuji during the exchange event on Gakuganji's, and by extension the higher-ups' orders) and allies the next (when it's time to pull together against a curse).

I'm reserving my judgement on the plot, themes and overall character arcs for now, because those things can only be really analysed once the story is complete. But even if I'll be unhappy with the ending, I'll still be very grateful for this unique world and its loveable inhabitants.

Of course, you might disagree with me on all this, and that's fine. Dropping the manga because you don't like the direction the story took is fine. Choosing to live in fanfiction delulu land is also fine. Gritting your teeth and sticking it out till the end despite disliking the plot because you're too invested to quit is also fine. Criticism and jokes are fine. The one thing that isn't fine is hating on the creator for the way they are choosing to tell their story.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

Tl;dr: If you're upset about the direction JJK is taking, please try to remember why you cared so much about it in the first place. And remember that Gege is just a person sharing a story with us, and disliking someone's story is not an acceptable reason to hate on them.

[glacialswordsman-a]

they had been away from mondstadt for months now , at first it was just to heal , calm their mind , and give their self time to reflect over what had happened . they also wanted to give kaeya space , give him time to calm down and get his thoughts together - because they knew that if they didn't talking would probably get no where . they wanted a chance , a chance to talk and work this out , the last few months had been painful , oddly enough staying away from him had been far more painful than the burn that they had received .

and yet they still find anxiety clouding their mind as they stand in front of his apartment , they want to run but they don't . instead they take a deep breath and reach out to knock against the door before stepping back to wait .

they've gone over what they'll say a thousand times , a thousand different ways . about how they want to talk this out , how they want to fix this - remind kaeya it isn't his fault because they know that he's probably been blaming himself . things that they've written in letters only to end up throwing them away rather than sending them off to mondstadt for him to read .

all of that however is thrown out the window when they finally set their eyes on him again .

their kaeya .

❛❛ starshine ... gods i've missed you . ❜❜ they reach out for a moment , before hesitating -- pulling their arms back towards their self . would he even want them to touch him , to hug him ? this wasn't apart of the plan , to be overwhelmed with emotion . they were suppose to be smart about all of this ...

❛❛ can ... can i hug you ? - i know i should be saying we need to talk , which we do need to talk but ... i just really want to hug you . is that okay ? ❜❜

( i told you. you would be getting an ask )

Cold.

Empty.

Lonely.

These past few months were hollow, save those three distinct feelings, ever since he had lost both his lover and then his brother within the same week.

There had been nary a word from Ajax ever since he had left, save Lumine’s assurances that he was safe in Fontaine. He was relieved to hear that the ginger had retreated to a place where they knew they’d be kept safe and secure, where Lumine would still be able to visit them here and there…yet it also tore Kaeya’s heart apart.

He will always be grateful to Lumine for going between them to check on them, but he knew very well that she was wearing herself ragged. It wasn’t fair to her, nor was it fair to Ajax. This was all Kaeya’s fault, after all, and yet they were the ones paying the price. Diluc, too, was paying the price.

Guilt devoured and swallowed Kaeya whole after all the events transpired, leaving him a man bereft of warmth, familiarity, comfort—of love. That from his brother, and that—or something akin to that—from Ajax. And yet, he made no move to reach for that which he yearned for again.

No, in fact, he kept to himself. Forced himself to put those masks back on, just as he learned to do when Diluc first left Mondstadt after that fateful night. It was a repeat of Kaeya’s mistakes, where he was unable to be honest until the very last second – until the worst possible moment. The only difference is that he wasn’t burned this time, unlike Ajax. Diluc kept his promise to not harm a hair on Kaeya's head again, whereas Kaeya couldn’t even divulge even a sliver of truth until it was too late.

How strange that every time Kaeya loses someone, it storms.

The Cavalry Captain was certain that neither of them wanted to see him again, anyway. Why would they? Ajax never wrote to him, and nor did Diluc (at least not directly). The pain he felt when Adelinde gave him his—once again—estranged brother’s regards was immense, and had left him frigid ever since. The temperature around his immediate self remained low, while his skin felt like that of a corpse.

Absolutely freezing.

The fact that neither of them wrote to him directly told him everything he needed to know: he’s no longer wanted. No longer worthy of their warmth.

There was an obvious pain that lingered in his eye more than ever before, if people were able to catch a glimpse of it. Otherwise, it was as though nothing was different. Or perhaps a better comparison is that it was as though everything was back the way it was since Diluc’s 18th birthday, only a touch worse. His mask of charming aloofness returned tenfold, those disarming smiles much broader, his teeth glinting a little more dangerously past curled lips. He still got his work done, was always exceptional when it came to bartering information from others through will or through force. But there was an edge, every time he tried to pull something out of someone. Every time he turned in his work to Jean.

And along with that edge came debilitating loneliness from the separation of two of the people he held closest to his heart. Whenever he finished his job for the day, he’d immediately return home and isolate himself for the rest of the evening. He never took the chance to leave the city again after the night Adelinde waited for him in his home.

Thus, here he was now, curled within his bed as his room was completely iced over, icicles hanging from his windowsill and ceiling (which he never found it in himself to properly remove), the glass panes frosted, his wooden furniture beginning to crack from the sheer cold. Every night it was like this, and tonight was no different.

Or so he thought.

Hearing the knocks, he blinked his eye open and slowly lifted his head from his fetal position, his gaze glancing towards his bedroom door. The knocking is coming from the entryway. Perhaps it’s Rosaria coming to check on him, or something. Again.

With a slow, heavy sigh through his nose, he was tempted to ignore the knocking outright, yet if it is Rosaria, she’d more than likely harass him after waiting outside too long, and he didn’t want to deal with her potential scolding. Unfurling his body, he sluggishly and reluctantly sat up before standing, the cold following him by leaving icy steps along the path he walked while small snowflakes drifted from his own person.

Rosaria was really the only one Kaeya allowed himself to simply be raw around now, and so when he opened his front door, he didn’t put on a mask and simply had an expression of mild irritation and shame. He hates being looked out after like this, as though he’s a pathetic animal, or as though he's danger to himself. “Rosie, please, wouldn’t this be the third time this week—?”

He paused, as his gaze finally lifted to meet deep, oceanic eyes littered with ripples and stars. His breath left him completely at the sight of Ajax—at the sound of their voice.

‘Starshine…’

What was once on his countenance had been completely wiped away, and instead replaced by shock, incredulity, as well as apprehension.

“… Childe?” he inquired, his voice oh so quiet and fragile. Kaeya’s heart squeezed much too tightly for his liking when the ginger asked to hug him, waiting patiently despite the yearning laced in their tone. Swallowing around the lump in his throat dryly, he’d glance around outside once to make sure there was no one else before motioning for the other to come into his apartment first.

Once inside, he shut the door with a gentle ‘click’, his gaze nervous as it returned towards Ajax. He wants to hug them, terribly so. He wants to feel them, hold them, take in their scent, bury himself into them and never surface again as long as it kept him with them.

But that’s only for people who deserve it. Not Kaeya.

“M—maybe we should go sit down instead. Um. Do you, want anything…? Some tea, or something? O-or a blanket?”