#and i've been writing it a lot today for no apparent reason i just got suddenly inspired

[periprose]

Hi! :)

I’m craving some Logan Howlett angsty fluff and I really like your writing style… Do you think you could maybe do a fic where either Logan and reader are in the heat of the moment and his claws come out and he scratches her. Or where Logan has a nightmare and the same thing happens. Either way the reader ends up comforting him.

Thank you! 🩷 :)

Hi!! So sorry for getting to this so late 🥹 loved the idea btw :) ended up doing a bit of a mix of both? If that makes sense.

/

"Out with it."

Your voice rings out clearly among the X-Men, the throng of battle no longer around you all. It was a more exhausting battle than you would've thought, but nothing irks you more than knowing that Logan has been apparently thinking of you as someone to play babysitter to. He hadn't trusted you to make your final blow to the enemy, and instead scooped you away to safety before lashing out with his own claws.

Logan clearly has something to say to you, and you want to hear it. You're not going to let him escape again- the way he always does, nonchalantly, refusing to acknowledge how he treats you.

Charles stiffens next to you in the helicarrier. Watching the tension, feeling the palpable heart-wrenching sensation between you and Logan. He doesn't know how you got to this point.

"Listen. Just because you didn't have it doesn't mean you're not a good X-Man-" Logan starts dismissively.

"But I did! I did have it!" You shout back at him, and then inhale carefully. "Nobody told you to rescue me, Logan. If I was about to die, then I was. I wanted that to be on my own terms."

"Don't talk like you're a fucking martyr when you've never had the privilege, kid." Logan's unnecessarily harsh tone has you flinching. "Do you know how many people I've seen die, for no good reason? Do you really want a bunch of Pentagon psychos to be your last memory?"

"Shut up." You shift in your seat, feeling small. "We don't get to choose when we die. Not like you."

Logan becomes visibly angered with that, the little taunt you've made towards his immortality. "That doesn't mean you have to go seek it out, dumbass."

"Oh really? Don't tell me you're getting soft, Logan." You glare at him, and Charles and Jean and Scott look at each other uncertainly. "Just because your life is so long doesn't mean the rest of us have forgotten what it means to be alive."

There's an unspoken, sudden charge in the air, now that you've mentioned what everyone else has the good sense to shut up about- Logan having lived so long and not caring about the consequences of his actions. Logan's eyes narrow until you feel sure that you've pushed him too far this time- he looks more animal than human, more Wolverine than ever- and you feel yourself inching forward, letting the anger of not being understood push you to fighting him- and Charles suddenly raises his hand in protest.

"Please, you two. I'm not sure what has transpired today, but I know you are better than choosing to have a physical altercation on a helicarrier flight." His calm, soothing tone makes you feel a little disappointed in yourself, and you settle back in your seat, refusing to meet his or Jean's glances of concern.

/

All you really wanted was an apology. A "Sorry, I won't do that again." Or even an explanation for why Logan keeps tabs on you all the time, never letting you be a real part of the X-Men, always safely on the sidelines. Were you just too weak?

Should you even be here?

You feel guilty for what you said to him. It's not a bad thing, you know, that Logan doesn't want you to get hurt- it's just that you want to do your job. You're not a kid.

It almost, almost justifies how you treated him, but even you know that was too far. You can't act as if you know Logan's life story- not even Charles or Jean would claim to do that, and they've searched his mind for memories several times.

Like it or not, the man was mysterious. He kept to himself on a lot of things, citing past hurt as his reason why- and you should've respected that.

"Maybe I am weak." You mutter to yourself, wondering why you can't restrain your emotions around Logan.

You're practicing shooting small, psionic blasts towards the target in your room- it's a great way to pass the time when you can't sleep- when you hear a groan, a shudder, an angry, deep growl-

It sounds like Logan. His room is right above yours, and the sounds are definitely coming from there- you hear him yell, and before you can stop yourself, you're bounding up the stairs to the third floor of the X-Mansion, bursting through his room's door with a ready hand, in case you need to fight.

/

Logan watches as you berate him in his dream.

Actually, it's not quite you- it's some venomous, evil, witch wearing your face. You giggle at him- you call him old- you don't take him seriously.

With every taunt, you fire another bright purple blast at him- and for once, his body doesn't heal instantaneously. He is getting old, getting hurt, watching as blood pools out of him. It's agonizingly painful.

He's going to die this time, without making it right with you- he's afraid that you're right about him, that he's a washed up sad old man who can't ever let people in.

"We don't need you anymore, Logan..." The not-you whispers softly, smiling a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, and Logan can't help but believe it.

His self preservation instincts kick in, and he launches forward, snarling, claws out with a sharp snikt sound. He feels that even though he'll regret your death, he'll miss you immensely, it's just one more tally mark to several others.

/

"Logan. Logan!"

You're leaning over Logan's sweaty, clammy body in his bed. You watch as his hands fist in the sheets, and he tosses and turns in agony- you breathe in hesitation, in fear that he's not going to be okay- he grunts suddenly, and you're reminded of how Rogue tells you about his nightmares. They're frequent.

How out of touch could you have been today?

You gently-yet-firmly grab Logan's arm, shaking, and his arms move forward in a self-defense mechanism that seems practiced, as if he's been attacked in his sleep before, and before you can move away, there's a sharp snikt sound, a quick wave of claws, and a searing pain in your side.

It all happens before you can even blink. You fall off to the side, on the floor, writhing in pain. Logan's claws just nicked your side, it's essentially a scratch- but the pain is so much worse than you're expecting, and you fall to the floor again as you try to get up.

You breathe in harshly, holding back a sob, as you feel wet blood pooling through the side of your night dress.

"Jesus Christ." Logan pounces off the bed, waking to blood all over his claws, and he's leaning over your body, as you blink up at him hesitantly. He immediately panics, lifting you up and resting you on his squatted thighs. "Kid! Hey, kid, don't close your eyes-"

"..." You're just barely hanging on, but you listen.

And Logan feels that same sense of shame he felt when he attacked Rogue, when Jean "died", every single time he had accidentally unsheathed his claws towards someone who didn't deserve it.

Doubly so, considering it's like his terrible nightmare has come to life. But you absolutely didn't do anything wrong- he can't believe he was so angry with you.

He calls for help, in a slightly broken tone, and no one seems to be coming.

"Just a scratch." You try, but Logan shakes his head.

"No, no, no." Logan spits out. "How could I- I never meant to-"

"I'm sorry, Logan." You cough, and Logan feels awful that you're apologizing while bleeding out due to his actions. "I shouldn't have said what I said. You're not some unreliable old man who doesn't care..."

You flinch at a sudden, sharp pain, and Logan motions for you to stop talking, but you keep going.

"If anything, you're the opposite. You're there for me. And I'm sorry that I got so... so angry at you for that." You mutter to yourself, not aware of how Logan hangs onto your words. "You're protecting me from making mistakes, and I'm grateful."

"No, kid. You had a point before." Logan interjects, but you shake your head.

"Did I? Or was I being a brat?" You grimace at yourself.

"You did have a point. I was being selfish," Logan shakes his head and then swallows that urge to push you away. "I don't always know how to leave people well enough alone. Sometimes I'm too much."

He hesitates, and then continues on. "Like, I treat you as if you're a nuisance, right? But I always... I always want you next to me. And I know I should just sort my shit out like an adult. But I'm scared."

"Scared?"

"Of what happens. What always happens." Logan sighs in defeat. "I fall in love, and they die. I find my people, and they leave me because I'm such a jackass. There's too much surrounding me that just... ruins everything."

"No, no. I won't leave." You tighten your hand around Logan's, and he, despite wanting to say that you're wounded because of him, believes you. He's so grateful to hear you say it- he had no idea that's what was weighing on him so badly.

He loves you, he knows he does. Logan has never been the best with feelings, but for once, he's glad he was honest.

The first thing Scott sees when he finally makes his way to Logan's room, from all the way across the X-Mansion, is Logan whispering "I'm sorry," and... he thinks (he's not 100% sure), "I love you," to your very forlorn, softly curved-around-him body.

It's a very tender moment, and Scott feels he should leave.

Then Logan presses a firm, shaky kiss on your forehead, and then your lips, and you, with your limited reserve of energy, kiss him back, and then Scott interjects with:

"Hey!...?"

He seems taken aback as you both look at him. "I heard screaming? What is this, some sort of weird cult sacrificial scenario?"

"Logan... had a... nightmare..." You wince, and Scott sees the red on your night gown. "I need... medical attention."

"On it." Scott glances at Logan for permission, and he's currently trying to push all these mushy feelings back into his chest where they belong, and he wants to be there to help you in the clinic, but he's flustered with everything that's happened and he can only hand you to Scott without looking at him.

Scott smirks to himself as he runs you to the clinic of the X-Mansion.

"You and Logan, huh? I knew there was something in that fight today." Scott remarks as you cling to him.

"It's taken an embarrassingly long time for me to figure it out, but yeah." You blush. "Has everyone else...?"

"Jean's been running a bet for the last year." Scott laughs. "She says you both are two sides of the same coin."

You can't help but agree.

[thankskenpenders]

Help me out here: Why is there so much Ian Flynn hate going around lately? I thought everyone loved that he was contributing to the games. Now suddenly they aren't. I guess that's par for the course for this series but I don't get it. He isn't perfect but I like what he's done. Am I a weirdo?

Ian Flynn has always had a lot of fans, but any creator putting their work out there is going to have detractors as well. That's just the nature of being an artist. To some extent, it's no big deal. He's not a perfect writer. Nobody is! I consider myself a fan of his work, but I've criticized plenty of individual writing decisions from him on here.

But Ian doesn't just have critics. He has his own obsessive hatedom. And the specific nature of Ian's hatedom is... interesting.

A decade ago, Ian was only the guy writing for Archie Sonic, meaning any debates over his work were quarantined within that tiny niche of the larger Sonic fandom. Only people who kept up with the comics month to month had any real reason to have an opinion on the guy, which means we're talking about merely thousands of fans as opposed to millions.

Within that group, he had some haters. You had the people who were mad about story changes made during his run, particularly things like ancillary characters getting killed off (although over the years we've learned that most of those were editorial mandates from Mike Pellerito). You had the people mad that Ian didn't push their favorite ship, with feuding SonAmy and Sonally fans claiming that he was CLEARLY biased towards one or the other. You had the people who just really, really liked one of the previous writers way more - usually Penders, as hard as that may be to believe today. That sort of thing. Pretty normal comic fandom type stuff. Again, it comes with the territory.

Unfortunately, many of those haters only got worse over time, morphing into reactionaries who constantly try to incite Comicsgate type culture war bullshit.

There are people still mad at Ian for making Sally bi and pairing her with Nicole instead of Sonic in the later Archie comics. There have been elaborate MS Paint red string conspiracy boards explaining how people like Ian and Jon Gray have apparently been destroying the franchise from the inside for years by Making Sonic Woke. (Jon gets dragged into this because people are still mad about him drawing The Slap 20 years later. Yes, really!!) There was an unhinged change.org petition trying to get Ian fired, specifically from people who were mad that the Freedom Fighters aren't in the IDW comics. There was even a very sad little fan campaign from these people trying to get Sega to move the Sonic comic license away from IDW and over to Udon, because they thought Udon would bring Sally and Bunnie back and also make them sexy again. There's a lot of this.

(Unfortunately, Penders has also exacerbated this by gossiping about Ian on Twitter and giving these fans ammo, but that's a whole 'nother discussion.)

The thing is, for years, people who only played the games or watched the cartoons had no reason to pay attention to any of this. Now, though, Ian isn't just writing for some weird spinoff comics that only the super nerds read. Now he's writing comics that are canon to the games, and ALSO some of the games themselves, and ALSO consulting on other tie-in media like Sonic Prime, and ALSO writing the official Sonic encyclopedia, and ALSO serving as part of the new Sonic Lore Team at Sega. And on top of all this, he's got an increasingly popular podcast where he fields questions about his work on all of these things, which serves as one of the fandom's main windows into creative decisions being made behind the scenes.

As a fan of Ian's work, it's been really cool to see him rise in prominence. But the dark side of this is that his obsessive haters from the Archie days now have WAY more of a potential audience of their own. Now, every Sonic fan has to have an opinion on Ian. What this frequently means is that you'll have the Comicsgate types taking things Ian writes or says out of context, attempting to get more of the general fandom to yell at the guy.

Unfortunately, there are a wide variety of Sonic fans who take the bait:

You've got hardcore fans who disliked basically any recent piece of Sonic media and are looking for someone to blame.

You've got the people who are concerned about the sanctity of Sonic's canon, who shoot the messenger any time Ian mentions a new retcon from Sonic Team on the podcast - or any time he even mentions the THOUGHT of changing anything about the canon, as we saw recently with the Sol Dimension nonsense.

You've got people who romanticize some sort of mythical artistic vision that Sega of Japan supposedly has (or had) for the franchise. To many of these fans, American contributors like Ian just don't "get" the heart of the series and are trying to turn Sonic into something different. (This "heart of the series" tends to be some mix of Japanese instruction manual lore, the cinematics from Sonic CD, the OVA, and/or the games written by Shiro Maekawa, depending on what Sonic media the fan in question grew up with.)

You've got fans of specific characters or ships who pin the blame for how their faves are depicted entirely on Ian - most vocally fans of Shadow, even though the root problem is that Sonic Team hasn't known what to do with Shadow since 2006. At best this stops at regular old criticism, but at its worst this devolves into claims that Ian has an agenda against certain characters.

You've got fans annoyed by a perceived over-emphasis on comic-original characters in the IDW comics, ignoring the obvious facts that these characters exist because the game cast is so tightly controlled by Sega, and also, you know, that people just like the IDW characters and want more stories about them.

You've got a LOT of discourse over IDW's Sonic being a hero who tries to give his enemies second chances, as if half of Sonic's closest friends aren't already former villains and rivals. Honestly this is very transparently just reheated Steven Universe discourse lmao

You'll also see people who just think they could do Ian's job better. They can't believe that THIS GUY is the American fan working on all these Sonic projects, when clearly THEY understand the characters and lore and themes SO much better than this charlatan.

All it takes is for someone in one of these categories to be unhappy about some recent piece of Sonic media, and for them to come across an out of context quote or comic panel that rubs them the wrong way, and suddenly the leftist Zoomer Sonic fans will join the latest dogpile on Ian alongside the reactionary Comicsgate types who are mad at him for Making Sonic Woke.

In general, when fandoms get upset, they tend to want a scapegoat. A person or two to point a finger at and go "THAT's who ruined the thing I love!" This tends to be based less on reality and more on which contributors are the most visible online. You'll sometimes see teenage and adult fans of children's cartoons single out a storyboarder who's particularly vocal on Twitter, blame them for every story decision they don't like, and harass them off the platform out of a sense of retribution for their favorite ship or whatever. Failing that, fans might choose to blame every nitpick, down to individual lines of dialogue and frames of animation, on a showrunner, just because that's the name they associate with the show. And unfortunately, when it comes to Sonic, Ian is now arguably the most prolific and outspoken contributor on the English speaking internet, and therefore a common scapegoat.

Some of the things I've seen Ian blamed for are truly wild. A lot of people have claimed for YEARS that he's just lying about the existence of creative guidelines and restrictions from Sega - or, as fans call them, The Mandates - even though they're just an inherent aspect of working on a licensed property. Others claim that The Mandates are real, but somehow Ian's fault. A vocal minority of fans have convinced themselves that Ian is the sole reason the Freedom Fighters don't exist in the IDW comics, even though Ian says he's been pushing to bring them back since day one.

Sometimes you'll see people say he ruined shit he didn't even work on. A few weeks ago on Twitter I saw someone claim that Ian had written a rejected script for Sonic Forces in which Tails died. I could not find a source for this for the life of me. As far as I can tell, the rumor seems to have been born from an alleged leaked script for Forces with margin notes from Aaron Webber that criticized the way Tails was written, and also an old tweet where Aaron joked that Tails would die in an upcoming episode of Sonic Mania Adventures. These merged into "Aaron Webber criticized a draft of the Forces script in which Tails died." How'd Ian get dragged into this? Who fucking knows!

It's all just a big game of telephone. All it takes is some asshole to make something up about Ian on Twitter or YouTube or a DeviantArt journal or some forum, and at least a couple people will believe it, and then it gets repeated as fact. Again, this used to be contained by the niche nature of the Archie Sonic fandom, but now there are WAY more people who are receptive to this shit.

It's just sad to me that Ian tries to be so open and honest about his work, to try to explain the rationale for certain things, to keep fans looped in on the direction the franchise is headed, and this just gives the Flynnspiracy types more quotes to take out of context and try to paint him as the devil. If it sounds like I'm being overly defensive and dismissing his critics, man... some of the things I've seen people say directly to him are just unbelievable. People will send paragraphs-long angry screeds in to his podcast that completely tear him apart, and he has to sit there and be like "Well, that's your opinion, and you're entitled to it." People literally pay for special guest interview episodes where they just rapid fire complaints about his writing at him directly to his face. I don't know how he does it. I would snap.

All of this over Sonic the fucking Hedgehog of all things.

I don't know how to wrap this up. Engaging with fandoms online is very tiring, which is why I tend not to do it. Things like this are too common. I guess, just... remember that making art collaboratively is a complicated thing. The people involved are generally trying their best given the circumstances, but they're only human. They make mistakes. But please treat them like humans. Criticism and dogpiling are not the same thing.

[captain-mj]

The Journal

I don't know. Cw: Ghost's backstory

Soap found the unassuming book on his desk. The edges of the paper had turned slightly yellow and they were clearly flipped through quite often. He frowned at it, wondering who went into his room and set this there. It felt... almost threatening.

Soap gently opened the book to look at the first page.

I'm writing this journal as a "therapy" exercise. Frankly I think it's fucking bollocks. I'm fine. I dream about nothing.

Well. That wasn't very helpful. The handwriting was odd. Almost scrawling, like the person who was writing had shaky hands but also couldn't be bothered to hold the pen properly.

Soap frowned. This seemed a rather personal thing to give to a person. But it was in his room.

Just one more page.

Apparently I'm supposed to introduce myself. Fine. My name is Simon Riley. I belong to the SAS. I was a POW for a couple of months. I keep hearing numbers but none of them feel right. I think parts of me are still down there.

I hurt. Everywhere. Especially when people touch me. I can't sleep. Can barely eat. My mum is worried. So does Tommy. I want to tell them to fuck off. I have. But they keep worrying. I wonder if this is how Beth felt.

On the page was a polaroid. A baby faced Simon with nasty scars on his face, still fresh and angry. He looked half dead. Dark circles under his eyes and an expression nothing like his usual. Someone had their hand on his shoulder, but he could only see their arm.

Soap sucked in a breath. There was no way Ghost gave this to him. No fucking way.

He got up and grabbed the book, going straight for Ghost's quarters, planning on returning it immediately and pretending he had found it and couldn't find Price to turn it in.

Ghost's quarters were empty. His knives were missing, but his clothes were still there, meaning he was on a mission.

Fuck.

Soap paused and tapped his foot. He wasn't sure if Price was around. How did someone get this? If he left it in his room, he was worried someone would find it. He'd have to keep it. Just to be sure.

Soap set it back on his desk. When he saw Price, he'd talk to him.

After a minute of staring at it, Soap shoved the book into a drawer and closed it tight. He left to talk to Gaz to distract himself for a few hours.

Gaz was nice enough to tell him that Ghost and Price were on a mission together and that they wouldn't be back for a few days.

No big deal.

A few days with a book that potentially had a lot of answers to some questions he had about Ghost.

Soap didn't make it the night before he was reading more pages. He never claimed to have great self control.

Good morning. I feel like a teen, writing in a diary. I've been put on new medication today. Supposed to help. It makes me dizzy for some reason.

My mum keeps making me tea. She wants to make sure I'm real. I see her hands hovering around me. If I wasn't such a shit son, I'd tell her she can hug me. The thought makes my skin crawl. I see her dead body in my dreams. I see the skull they said was hers. I want to tell her I'm okay, but I don't want to lie.

Soap felt sick. There was a drawing. It was crude, clearly done out of boredom and with no real care behind it. Soap was pretty sure it was a skull that was dripping something. Maybe blood. The ink was all black so there was no way to tell. "Mum" was written several times around it.

I dreamed about her again.

That caught Soap's attention. Her? Was Ghost into women? That seemed unlikely.

She used to speak so soothingly in spanish to me. I wonder if she was like me. Did Roba rape her too?

Soap shut the book and shoved it under his pillow. Enough of that. Nope. He didn't want to think of those words and what they meant.

Fucking too.

No.

No...

No!

The idea of something like that happening to his Lieutenant was... It just... didn't happen.

Soap pulled the book out and kept reading. Just... to prove it wasn't real.

I don't know. It's not a nice thought. Maybe I want someone else to hurt too. I tried to jack off the other day and ended up scrubbing myself raw afterward from how it made me feel. How pathetic right?

Not sure what this is doing. What benefit this has. I'm writing my thoughts. Trying to feel better. Tommy joked about me buying a hooker. I had a panic attack. it was like i was back in high school again. fucking baby.

There was a picture of someone, presumably Tommy, and Simon hanging out. They were both smoking and Tommy was making a sign with his hands. He had a giant grin on his face. Simon had a carved out Glasgow smile that looked like it hurt. Raw. it looked to be after the earlier polaroid. The dark circles hadn't gotten better, but there was more color and flesh in his face.

My mum wants me to talk to my dad. I don't know why. I don't know want to see him. Can't let him see me right now. Maybe when I'm recovered. Last time I saw him, I beat his ass. Doubt he's going to forgive me.

Bastard is pure evil. He gets off on hurting people. Got off on hurting me. I think he's trying to use the cancer as an excuse to get close to my mum again. I'll beat his ass again. I'm putting on more weight. I'll fucking do it.

There was a little stick man drawing labeled 'Simon' and 'Bitch' with Simon beating him to death. Soap thought the blood was rather well drawn, even if the stick figures wasn't.

As the week went on, he kept reading a few pages at a time. He learned... things.

Ghost liked Vanilla tea.

Ghost had been assaulted by more than one person.

Ghost's father had beaten him. A lot.

Ghost was scared of snakes.

Ghost loved his Mum.

Ghost hated most mystery movies.

Tommy was Ghost's brother and was the second most important in his life.

And that they were all dead. All of them.

He wrote an explanation of everything there. In a clinical, harsh detail.

I wish I had died down there in Mexico. I wish I had laid down in that grave and died. It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault.

It kept repeating and then he had just started over and wrote over the first layer.

Soap was crying. He couldn't help it. Tommy was so... young. Not to mention the descriptions Ghost gave of his family in general. The pages after that were mostly drawings or scribbles, all made with heavy hands.

Simon knocked. He could tell by the sound he made when he knocked. "Johnny?"

"When did you get back?"

"...Just now. Can I come in?"

"Yeah." Soap wiped his face so he'd look... normal. "Yeah come in."

Ghost stepped inside and saw the book. "Enjoy it?"

"What?"

"I left it for you."

"Why?"

Ghost hummed. "Thought it would be the easiest way to let you in."

Soap swallowed. "You don't do anything half assed do you?"

Ghost's eyes stared at him. Answer enough right there.

[randomshyperson]

Third time lucky - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Some misunderstandings are just the result of poor communication. Or the one where Wanda has a crush and can't find the right time to confess. | Writing Challenge.

Warnings: Fluff and brief mild angst (unrequited love impressions), mutual pining, friends to lovers, some mentions of drinking, college au. | Words: 3.064k

A/N-> I've been having busy days, and apparently, I start dozens of series and never finish a single one. I saw some videos of Prompts challenges on Tik Tok and this one was finished. I do miss Emo!Wanda a lot, and I’ve been trying to work with something for her, but no luck so far. Anyways, good reading to you all!

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

Buried in the safety of her blankets, Wanda tries to understand how the whole perfect three-month planning went wrong all at once in a 30-second conversation.

This was all Steve's fault.

If he had waited just one more day to end his long-standing relationship with Bucky, he would have avoided affecting his entire group of friends, and Wanda wouldn't have had to drive 40 minutes to the other side of town to drag Barnes' drunk and pissed ass back to the University, and she wouldn't have had the conversation with you.

It was such an unfair situation. She had a plan. Go to the movies together, to the market, have dinner and then, ring. Well, confession first.

"I know we've been friends for a while, but I've secretly been in love since we bumped into each other on the way out of the stadium that day, and spending time with you has only escalated that. Do you wanna be more than friends?" 

She hoped that all this time you were secretly in love as well and she would be the happiest person in the world.

But Steve Rogers broke up with his boyfriend who got too drunk to drive back to his place, and when Wanda safely handed him over to you, all you could tell her was that you were glad you two would never go through anything like this in your entirely platonic friendship.

A bucket of cold water, honestly.

So now Wanda just wanted to lie down and be protected under the covers, with no risk of being hurt again.

Her twin had other plans.

"Wanda, why aren't you ready? Natasha is already downstairs with the car." That's what Pietro questioned as he entered the bedroom of their shared apartment, a grimace stamped at the scene of his sister under the covers in the dark bedroom. 

All the brunette did was groan, which made him sigh. The next minute, the curtains were pulled open and Wanda had to hide from the light with a pillow.

"Go away." She grumbled, but the twin just threw himself sitting up in bed.

" Don't tell me Miss Calendar forgot that we were going to celebrate Yelena's birthday today?" ironized her brother, smirking at Wanda's attempt to get away from his fingers that began to torment her with tickles.

Wanda only grunted again. "How did that not get canceled?" She managed to retort, busy deflecting the tickles to see Pietro shrugging.

"It's not like Yelena is that close to the boys. Besides this, Steve isn't going, and Bucky is still hung over. And you're holding us up."   To emphasize her brother's statement, the loud horn outside easily recognized from Natasha's Truck could be heard. Pietro chuckled before pulling Wanda's covers off at once, ignoring the other's protest. "Move it, lazy girl. We have to get there soon or Nat won't find a parking spot."

"I don't want to go."

"Wanda, come on, Yelena is your best friend's little sister." Pietro reasons, but seeing his sister's almost tearful expression, he immediately assumes a worried expression. "What happened, Pchelka (little bee)?"

Wanda sniffled low, not meeting his gaze. "I was going to tell Y/N how I feel yesterday."

Her brother's eyes widened. "Oh? And how was it?"

"I didn't get a chance. She said she was glad we were friends, and we don't have to go through the same problems as Bucky and Steve." She tells tearfully, but Pietro makes a confused face.

"Wait, but you told her? How do you feel?"

Wanda chuckles indignantly. "What? Didn't you hear what I just said?" Retorted the girl, wiping her face before she started crying for good. "She said we were friends, how do you expect me to-"

"Wanda, for God's sake." Pietro interrupted her with an impatient sigh, pulling his cell phone from his pocket. He typed a quick excuse to Natasha to get her to stop honking in front of the building and approached his sister. "You and Y/N are friends, of course, she's glad about this strange, yet amazing connection you two share. The same kind I had with Barry, and you know, it would have worked out if I hadn't screwed it up. But the fact is, we only had a chance of right and wrong because I had the balls to admit what I was feeling."

She frowns thoughtfully. "What is your point?"

Pietro smiles. "My point is that you are here, whining about a rejection that only happened in your head."

"But she said-"

"The truth." He interrupts gently. "You two are friends, and she values this friendship, these are facts. It doesn't mean you can't be more than friends, or that the puppy dog eyes she always gives you are platonic."

Wanda giggles shyly, her cheeks warming. "You're making that one up."

"Yeah, I'm the delusional twin." Retorts the other, laughing when Wanda tries to hit him with a pillow. "Put it together, sis. And grow some nerve. Y/N will be there today, you might make her week better."

Wanda sighs. "Or ruin it for good."

Pietro rolls his eyes. "Wanda, go get changed or I'll be the one to tell her why we were late."

"You wouldn't dare!" Wanda retorts, already getting up. Pietro laughs.

"Try me."

The drive to the dam was uneventful after that - although Wanda had had to put up with her twin and her best friend making fun of all her dramatics that morning.  It was somewhat ironic how apparently all her friends knew about her feelings, except the one person she wanted to be aware of it.

The dam was considerably full, but that was common for weekends even on a not-so-hot day, and the absence of tests at Uni certainly helped. Fortunately, Natasha was able to find a place close enough, and within minutes, Wanda was finishing putting beers to ice near the food table that Maria Hill had set up with the rest of her friends who arrived first.

Wanda only went back to the truck to get Yelena's gift and was ready to lock the car and return to the cheap fun when she was wrapped tightly by strong arms that lifted her into the air. She would have screamed in fright if she hadn't recognized the mischievous giggle.

"Look guys, I found a cute deer all alone." The teasing made the rest of the group chuckle as well. Wanda tried to have a little control over the color of her face, but she became very aware that the Wolf Jacket - The University's mascot - was the only thing that cover your swimsuit from her skin. You spun her around by the waist as you set her down again, and the proximity was almost suffocating. 

"Where is everyone?" It was Clint who asked, holding a packet of coal on his shoulders. Beside him, Laura was wearing only the skirt of the cheerleading team that Wanda was also a member of, the black deer stamped on the edge, and a dark bikini covering her torso. 

Wanda mumbled the direction as you took a step back, and could barely notice when the rest of the group left the two of you alone. You leaned against the truck, and Wanda tried to put it together, as Pietro told her to.

"Your face is a little red, Wands. Did you remember to put on sunscreen? I have some in my backpack..." You were so clueless that it would be adorable if it wasn't frustrating. Wanda began to fantasize about the confession and ended up even redder when she noticed you shaking some sunscreen at the height of her face for what seemed like some time. 

"T-thank you." She mumbled embarrassedly, reaching up to pull the item out, but you moved it out of her reach.

"Don't be silly, I'll help you." You said casually, signaling with your free hand for her to turn around, which Wanda did very quickly.

She heard you pressing the cream into her hands, and she had to hold her breath to keep from sighing with each rub of your fingers against her skin. Rubbing and spreading the sunscreen.

"What were you doing here all by yourself?" you start the casual conversation, curious. 

Wanda swallows to disguise the huskiness in her voice. "I forgot Yelena's gift in the car."

"Hm, and what did you get for her?" You asked, finishing the shoulders and pulling your hands away to apply more lotion.

"Some tapes from that store she likes," Wanda grumbles, biting her lips as she feels your hands go down her back. "She hasn't shut up about Don Mclean in the last few months, so I also helped Nat buy some tickets. They're going to the concert next month."

"Oh, that sounds nice." You complimented, somewhat distracted. Wanda hummed in agreement, hoping to the heavens that you didn't notice how shivery she was under your touch. But judging by your silence and proximity, you could probably tell. A moment later, when you were done with her back and Wanda was forced to work with all her mind control not to do anything idiotic when she was face to face with you again, you commented, "You practically ran out yesterday. I was hoping we would watch some movie, maybe even a sitcom."

Wanda smiles shyly, needing to look away because you were going to start rubbing sunscreen on her face now.

"Hm, sorry." She murmurs. "I thought you'd be busy with Bucky."

"He's a grown-up, Wands. Besides, I would hardly sacrifice time with you to babysit hungover Bucky Barnes."

She panicked, you were too close, and looking at her fondly when you said these things. All she could do was giggle nervously.

"You like me this much, huh?"

It was your turn to chuckle a little confusedly, raising an eyebrow. Wanda swallowed dryly because you were applying sunscreen to her cheeks, but instead of pushing your hands away, you wrapped them around her cheeks.

"Yeah, I like you that much." You assured her and Wanda felt her heart jump in her chest. 

Okay, as Pietro encouraged her in the car: Go big or go home. She opened her mouth to finally confess, but you let go of her face. "All set." You announced about the sunscreen, moving to put the item back in your purse and stepping away in record time. Wanda stood frozen in shock, and you looked at her with confusion. "You're not coming?"

She swallowed the humiliation and lack of courage and forced a smile. "Of course." 

But you stepped into her path, and Wanda panted slightly. 

"Aren't you forgetting anything?"

"Hm, am I?" 

You chuckled. "Yelena's birthday present..."

"Shit, yeah, sure." Wanda was a complete mess. She turned around again, grabbed the gift packed in the passenger seat, and met you halfway. 

And you made the color of her face worse when you simply hold her free hand with yours, pulling her closer to whisper: "My invitation still stands, Maximoff. After the party, how about we have a sitcom night?"

With her heart hammering, Wanda takes a chance. "Yes, but only if it's just the two of us." She declares, and you chuckle shortly, eyeing her with some doubt.

"Are you asking me to kick Bucky out of the apartment?"

She sighs. "No, I... God, you're impossible." She grumbled in frustration, feeling her face very warm. She was ready to clarify when someone shouted your name.

It was Natasha, at the entrance to the parking area, hurrying the two of you because you had the matches in your backpack and the barbecue was supposed to start soon.

Wanda sighed tiredly again and walked off ahead of you.

You followed her with confusion a second later.

-&-

“Judging by your face, things didn’t work out with Y/N.”

Yelena's comment didn't make her feel any better, other than it caught her by surprise enough that Wanda nearly knocked all the beer over.

Yelena chuckled, holding the strainer before the item lost its balance completely and ensuring the safety of the drink for the rest of the party.

"How did you...?"

"Natasha tells me everything, naturally." Clarified the blonde as she shrugged. "This, and well, everyone knows."

Wanda sighed, stealing a glance over to the group of people where you were laughing at some comment Maria made.

"Yeah, not everyone." Murmured the upset brunette. Yelena cleared her throat quietly.

"You know, maybe rejection can be a good thing." Started the blonde to which Wanda grimaced. "Now that you know she doesn't feel the same way, at least you can start looking for someone else who does."

With a nervous chuckle, Wanda retorted, "Technically, I didn't say what I felt, so I haven't been rejected yet and-"

But Yelena interrupted her by reaching out and tapping her finger against her forehead, a gesture that made Wanda grumble. "глупый (silly). You didn't even tell her?"

Rubbing her forehead, the brunette grumbled; "Your sister interrupted me, I was about to."

Yelena chuckled incredulously, stealing a glance at the group as well. "You are unbelievable, Maximoff." She commented before a sigh. "You know this is your fault right? None of this would have happened if you had only agreed to go out with her when she asked you the first time, you silly girl."

Wanda grimaced. "Sorry, what?"

But Yelena just shrugged. "Yeah, you know I'm right. If you had just gone along with it, you would have saved yourself all this stress, and you wouldn't have to stand there trying to build up your courage and-" 

"Yelena, what are you talking about?" Wanda interrupted her. "Y/N never asked me out."

It was the other's turn to look at her as if she had fallen and hit her head. "Of course she did! When we met, silly, at Stark's party in freshman year."

Wanda shook her head. "I met Y/N the first time by bumping into her in a hallway-"

"What, no!" Yelena giggled nostalgically. She dropped her glass of beer and started gesturing a little as she counted. "Don't you remember Stark's party, freshman year? I introduced Y/N to the group, and you had just kicked Vision's ass...oh, I think I know why you don't remember. You got drunk as hell and threw up on the guy in the band, the one with the shaved hair. It was Y/N who drove your car back to the dorm, Wanda. You really don't remember her?"

There was a pact to forget about the humiliation from that night, to be honest, but hearing Yelena quote the facts brought it all back with full force. The last fight with Vision, Tony's birthday at Stark Mansion that turned into a riot loud enough for the party to end with the arrival of the police, and a lot of drinking. Enough for Wanda to forget kind eyes and respectful hands keeping her off the sidewalk.

She looked at you again, and remembered your husky laugh, months ago, in her room when her drunk self said she thought you were really pretty.

"Well, I think you're pretty too, Maximoff. So how about, when you sober up, you and I go out on a date?" You asked, ignoring the teasing giggles of the other two - Yelena was helping Natasha back to bed. 

"I'd love to." She replied drunkenly, giggling when you helped her get under the covers. She made some joke about dreams that made you smile, and then she never thought about this night again.

In the present, Yelena was saying something about how technically she never rejected you, but Wanda cut her off with excuse, and simply turned her back on her, rushing off in your direction.

Whatever Maria's joke was, it was unheard by you with Wanda's sudden arrival.

"Hey, is everything ok-"

"Why didn't you ask me out again?" She interrupted you almost in desperation, ignoring the presence of the other people. You stared at her in shock, surprised at the sudden question. Maria cleared her throat, gesturing to the girls, and everyone sneaked out. 

"Sorry, what?"

"After the party." Wanda retorted without losing her attitude. "You asked me out, and I was too drunk to remember this. Why didn't you ask again after?"

Your cheeks turned pink, and you chuckled awkwardly. "I don't know, Wands." You murmur shyly. Wanda's heart leaps at the lovely image in front of her. "You didn't remember me, and when we started hanging out with everyone else and you quickly included me as a friend, I assumed it was your way of saying you weren't interested without hurting me-"

"But I am interested!" She interrupted you a little louder and more desperate than she would have liked. You gasped in surprise, widening your eyes. "God, I'm so interested."

You chuckle shyly, your face rosy. "Oh, really?"

Wanda thought it best to prove the point, and just grabbed your shirt collar, staring into your eyes for a moment and giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. You did the complete opposite, ending the distance by pressing your lips against hers.

Gasping, Wanda pulled away. "Yeah, definitely interested." She murmured affectedly before kissing you again, now for real, feeling your smile into the kiss.

You ended up parting soon after, both of you unable not to laugh in relief and happiness. Wanda could feel her face burning, and she knew the audience but didn't care one bit. She was too happy for that.

"You taste like beer." Your comment while holding her made her look at you curiously. "Please don't have another alcoholic amnesia with me."  You joked with a certain truth, and Wanda chuckled, stealing another intense kiss before pulling away.

"Are you kidding? I'll definitely remember this." She assured you tenderly, and you smiled apologetically. When you went to kiss her again, Wanda placed a finger over your lips. "Besides this, you could sleep over. It will be easy to remember if I wake up next to you..."

You smirked, kissing her cheek, your arms securely around her. "What a naughty girl you turned out to be, Maximoff."

She slid her fingers away to cup your cheek. "Oh darling, you have no idea." And you swallowed dryly at the teasing whisper.

With luck, it wouldn't take them long to cut the cake and end the party. 

[ingravinoveritas]

Oh, boy. Well, I was on a plane when I saw this, but now I'm finally at my hotel and have time to answer.

So right off the bat, I'm having a little trouble discerning the "tone" here, of both the comment and Georgia's response. I honestly can't tell if what the commenter is saying is meant positively or negatively (it kind of comes across as a backhanded compliment, or at least one that was worded badly?). But because I can't tell how the comment was meant, it also makes it difficult to tell how Georgia took it. Did she respond out of genuine annoyance, or was she not annoyed but just saw an opportunity to give a sarcastic/funny response? I have no idea, but I'd love to know what everyone else thinks.

All that said...there is certainly a lot going on with Georgia's response. We already knew that Michael had a stealth/private account on Instagram, so does this mean he's created another one? I noticed as well that Georgia cropped out the avatar of the person who left this comment, but did leave in the avatar of another commenter whose comment she posted in a story after this one (which has since been deleted). So it seems strange that she cropped one, but not the other, for some reason.

Then there's the undertones (overtones? Today is the day for tone issues, apparently...) to Georgia's response. What struck me first is that she read this comment and associated it with Michael, suggesting (on some level) that Michael is jealous of her for being married to David. This could, of course, simply be playful jealousy--which would speak to what a lot of fans seem to be embracing, that idea of Michael, David, Georgia, and AL as one big, happy, Brady Bunch of polyamory--but I have a feeling that is not actually their dynamic in reality.

This brings to my mind comments I've read from @cloud-based-and-rainpilled and others about how poly arrangements can go so far south because they quickly become about ownership and possessiveness. As I've talked about previously on my blog, Michael does not seem to be a big fan of sharing (thinking of how he got jealous/possessive toward Chris Hemsworth when he and David were on Graham Norton in 2019). So if there is jealousy on Michael's part, I can't help wondering if it's because Georgia gets to be with David in the public way that Michael wishes he could be.

(Also I would really like to know what the hell the rationale was for Georgia using "Nessun Dorma" as the song in this Insta story. So many questions...)

Whatever the case may be, the implications are definitely implicating, in some way and on some level. I would love for my followers to weigh in to see if anyone else has made sense of this, though. Thanks for writing in! x

[lilysbookshelf987]

New camper: Percy Jackson x reader (daughter of apollo)

A/n: thank you so much for giving this a read! This is my first time writing for the PJO universe so let me know if you like it! Requests are open! No NSFW or Smut! Enjoy

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Good morning" Percy said tiredly, greeting his best friend Grover at the dining pavilion, taking a seat next to him.

"Morning" Grover replied, "hey did you see Annabeth on your way here? She's usually the first one here and I haven't seen her yet"

As if almost on cue she was walking towards the boys, an excited smirk painted across her face.

"Camp Half-Blood has a new camper!"

"What?!" replied Percy

"She showed up late last night, all alone. Chiron told me she had been hurt pretty badly but he took her into the infirmary and gave her some Ambrosia"

"She took it? So, she's definitely a half-blood?" Percy asked

"Yep! We should be meeting her later today" Annabeth was ecstatic, she loved new campers!

--time skip--

As the day went on there was still no sight of the new camper. Word had made its way around camp and people began to take their guesses as to who was her parent.

"I hope she's in our cabin!" A child of Aphrodite had said

"No! I bet she HAS to be in ours! Showing up without a Satyr by her side means she's a warrior"an Ares kid chimed

"As long as she's not in ours I dont care" a tired looking Hermes kid said.

It was almost dinner time when Chiron had found Percy, sparring with someone from the Ares cabin.

"Percy can I speak to you for a moment?"

"Yeah sure" he said, removing his helmet and recapping his sword.

"Im sure you've heard we've had a new camper join us."

"Yeah it's all over camp" he replied

"Ah yes. Well let's say she hasn't been thrilled to learn about her new family. Reminds me a lot of you when you first came here"

Percy thought back to his first few days at camp. He was confused, scared, angry, and very much overwhelmed.

"I was wondering if you could help ease her mind by speaking to her. You understand what she's feeling better than I can."

"And im not half horse" Percy smiled

"Yes there is that" Chiron chuckled

"Alright I want to meet her!" Percy agreed. He really did want to help, but he also knew how jealous Annabeth would be that he met her first. The two walked into the big house and there she was, staring down at her feet.

"Y/N, this is Percy, son of Poseidon. Percy this is Y/N. I'm sure you two will get long swimmingly" Chiron chuckled at his own joke, "I will give you two some privacy" with that, he left the room. Leaving the two teenagers alone.

An awkward silence filled the room, when finally Y/N broke the silence.

"Son of Poseidon, huh?" she asked

"That's me" he smiled, proud of the title he held.

"That's crazy, the gods don't exist!"

"They do exist. I know it all feels a bit insane at first but-"

"A bit?! My whole life i've had these things coming after me and I didn't understand why. I thought I was insane and seeing things, but apparently that's normal?! And my dad? The reason he's neglected me my whole life was because he was a god?! There's just no way"

"Hey, it's gonna be ok. I know how you feel. I felt like that when I first got here. All my life my dad wasn't someone I had thought about much because I had my mom, and thats all I needed. Then I find out that he's now the most important thing in my life? I had so many emotions, but if you just give this place a chance? I promise everything gets a lot less scary"

This seem to get to the girl. She started to tear up.

"Ok, i'll try." she whispered

"I'll show you around and it'll all be ok, I promise."

The two made their way around camp, Y/N was mostly silent. "The sun is so warm here, it's not like that where I'm from"

"Everything is a little bit stronger here."

"I can tell" she smiled

"So, do you have any idea who your dad might be?" Percy asked, careful not to poke at the sensitive subject.

"I think but I'm not sure. My mom used to talk about Apollo, a way she never did about other Gods"

"Ok then...then we have to find a way for him to see you! If he see's you, he'll claim you!"

"Yeah but how?"

"Gods dont claim you because they feel like it, you have to work for it" Annabeth said, inviting herself to the conversation.

"Y/N this is Annabeth, daughter of Athena"

"Hey" Y/n said

"Percy have you taken her to the archery field? Apollo kids thrive there"

"No I didn't"

"Seaweed brain c'mon!" Annabeth rolled her eyes, "Lets go" she led the two there and put a bow and arrow in Y/N's hands. The girl had fired it easily and hit the bullseye.

"Beginners luck?" y/n asked

"Go again" Chiron said, but before she could something came flying down at her, she shot it down easily.

"That could've killed us" Percy said, mouth agape, "and you shot it down with ease!" he said

"Look!" One of the campers said

Y/N was becoming engulfed in a bright light and a sun appeared over her head. She was now an official resident of cabin 7

[ginsengkitten]

༺ Beautiful Dangerous ༻

༺☆༻

Chapter Eleven

Written in Plain Sight

A/N:

Tysm for your patience with this one. May is a difficult month for me for personal reasons. I’m still writing and I’m so excited for you guys see where this heads. I hope you guys enjoy <3

Dear Slash,

Im sorry I didn't write you sooner. Things have been a little crazy since I got home. Well, not home actually. My parents have turned me in to this special all girls Christian school that specializes in "troubled young women". Apparently they can legally do that even though I've just turned 18! I never agreed to it, they just left me here. In the middle of nowhere- with these weird nuns. They haven't told me how often mail is sent out so I'm not sure how often I'll write, but I promise I will.

I'm sorry how I left things. I didn't know they were coming to take me home. I tried to say goodbye but they gave me no chance. Please forgive me. This summer was the best time of my whole life. Because I met you.

I know letters are a little prehistoric these days, but I've no access to a phone here. Again, I promise to write often. I'll call you as soon as I'm out.

Love, Foxey.

-

Dear Slash,

I'm not sure if you are receiving my letters. If you are and just don't want to speak to me, I understand that. I know mail can take a while... anyways. I figured writing to you helps me pass the time here. This place is awful. It's been 2 weeks of hell. I was forced to detox from everything. It's been so hard. I hardly sleep at night. But when I do, I am so happy because I dream of you. I also daydream a lot. It helps me get through the day. The days are long and boring. There's not really a curriculum here. Even though they call it a school. The nuns are mean. They took away all my clothing and I have to wear a white dress everyday and every night. It's cold and uncomfortable. Each day consists of the same thing. They wake you up at 6 am every fucking morning. It's barely light out. Then you have to clean your room. If you can only eat breakfast if you pass morning room inspection. I've failed 5 times so far...

Anyways. Sorry. I don't mean to complain to you. I don't have anything exciting to write about. I hope you have having very exciting experiences in LA still. Please write me when you can... I want to know how you are!

Love, Foxey

-

Slash,

Today was horrible. Just horrible. I'm sorry to write you only my miseries, but it feels like that's all I have left lately. Turns out, if you don't comply with every single whim and precision- even making the wrong face, or the tone of your voice, the nuns will be violent with you. They carry rulers, books and at times, even their bare hands- are weapons. I can't exactly remember what I did first to step out of line, all I remember was sister Agatha (she's a total bitch) slapping me so hard across the face, the stinging lasted for hours. I cried a little but only in private. I don't think I want to let them see me cry. I don't want them to know they have that power!

I still wait for your reply. I hope you are well.

Love, Foxey.

-

Hi There,

It's been a while. Sorry for that. I don't have much different to say to you. Or much at all. I think I get your message from your silence. If it all meant nothing to you after all, then so be it. I think maybe I belong here anyways. It's best for everyone. I want to let you know it really hurts me to accept that you are done with me. With us. Just like that. But I respect your decision- even if it's shitty. Maybe that's all rockstars are is shitty. So there. You're shitty and I wish we never met. I hope you're happy.

Best of luck with everything. I love you.

Y/N.

-

And just like that. It was over. The silence from Slash over the past two months was only an added pain to the hell you already endured. For your own sanity, hope was crushing you and you had to give it up. Your parents had called once, but the nuns ensured you weren’t telling them the truth of what it was like there. As quickly as it all unraveled, you sank into your new reality. Pushing out thoughts of escape as the former attempts were futile and had only ended in harsher and harsher punishment .

It was colder now into early November. Other girls had come and gone periodically, none staying long enough for it to be worth harboring any sort of relationship. You spent your days in the day room, a dim, sulky living room type space in the center of the building. Empty tables with broken chess pieces and puzzles with missing pieces scattered. You took throne to an old green chair by the large window.

One person you had managed to form any sort of connection with was the oldest nun in the practice, Sister Graham. She seemed worn down and tired of it all, due to her age, and lack of violence and stern, she’d been demoted down to a secretarial duty. She’d find reasons to come and talk to you when she could. Small but meaningful conversations. The two of you formed a secret bond of hatred for this place. A mutual understanding that this was all that was left for both of you. She’d share bits of her life before she became a nun. She had been sent away at the age of 16 after running away from an arranged marriage to a man 20 years her senior at the time. You felt sad for her, sorry for her, confused as to why she remained here. You told her about your past, how you ended up there. You even opened up to her about Slash and the magical summer you had. She seemed to appreciate the glimmer that became of you when you spoke of it all. Like she understood what it meant to feel young and in love. What it felt like to feel misunderstood and suffocated by the normalcy of the world. She made you feel special amidst it all. And then, one day, she was gone. You waited all week for her to show.

You prodded at nuns all morning as to where she was, “did she die?” “Did she retire?” “Is she sick?” You skipped around. Each question was met with harsh and rude snaps of silence and threatening looks. The confusion and hurt flatlined you again. Back to nothingness. You shifted in bed, staring at the ceiling, images of Slash, summer, everything, bleeding through your mind like a movie. The anger of his silence, the hurt, the betrayal, all of it stung within you so badly. Allowing it to get to you, you angrily chuck your pillow to the other side of the room with a frustrated sob. Feathers bust out of the pillow, completely ruining it. You came to your senses quickly with regret and knelt over the pillow to pick up the discarded feathers. You hadn’t changed your pillow case this week, and now you’ve broken the pillow altogether. Great. It was sure you’d get punished for this in the morning. Your hand brushes against a piece of paper as you sift through the feathers. That’s odd- where did this come from? You pick it up and it appears to be a small folded note. You take a precautious look at your door before unfolding it.

“R. 308

Nov. 21. 8pm to west wing parking lot.”

What the hell? You don’t recall writing this down. This was clearly stuffed in your pillow case. When? Why? What does it mean? Did someone put this here? Your heart beat with confusion, apprehensive to feel any sort of excitement at fear of being disappointed again. It was late, and there was seldom to do with this new information except to sleep on it. So you did.

Surely enough, as you had predicted, the nuns took notice of your destroyed pillow and sentenced you to janitorial duties for the entire day. You scrubbed away at the hallway at the end of the wing. Dragging your bucket of dirty water like a gross companion. You grumbled to yourself as you mopped. Suddenly a sister enters the hallway from out of a room and almost slips on the fresh wet floor. She gives a stabbing glare.

“Well hurry it up and get it finished so you’re not such a hazard girl.” She snarks as she walks away. You want to bark back but you know better. The room she had left was left cracked. You stared at the door with curiosity before noticing the room number plaque before you .

“Room 308”.

Wait a minute. R308? Like the note? You take yet another precautious glance behind you to the empty hall to ensure no one would see you now sneak yourself into the room.

Surely there’s something of importance in here? It appeared to be some sort of administrative office. Piles of papers decorated the entire room. You strolled around carefully eying everything. This is a mail room, this is all mail? This is all patient mail, no? It is. How interesting? Why’s there so much in here? Your eyes scan and roll over a large stack prominently sticking out of a box on the desk. You recognize the stationary and realize it to be some of your own letters to slash. What the hell? You start shuffling through the box in a greater panic and confusion. These were all supposed to be sent out, sent to Slash! Were none of them ever mailed?! Your heart dropped to your stomach and your chest tightened.

You wanted to stay longer, to further examine and investigate this, but the reality was clear. No letters written had been sent to anyone. They lied. You hurriedly skimmed through the pile to see if any had come in from Slash but you only saw the ones you wrote. All of them opened too. They’ve just been reading them and keeping them….

Before you could sulk, you quietly exited the room to ensure no one saw you sneaking in there. Clearly you were not supposed to know this. Rage, Hurt, Confusion, coiled inside you once more. All this time? Out of all the emotions rushing through you at that moment, the scariest one was now hope. Hope again filtered into you. Maybe Slash had never ignored you. Maybe he just didn’t know where to write!

After returning to your room that evening, you re read the obscure note once more.

“Nov 21”

That’s tomorrow. Nov 21st is tomorrow. Someone wants me to go to the west parking lot at 8pm tomorrow. But who? And why?

[vidavalor]

So I'm on a bit of a roll from just having finished some writing (probably post in the next day or two), so have some random thoughts!

Legit can't remember whether or not your linguistic analysis of Bildad the Shuhite touched on 'cobbler' as Cockney rhyming slang for either testicles (as in 'kick in the...') or nonsense (as in 'load of old cobblers') -- the latter meaning especially feels kind of appropriate!

What kind of 'madeleine memories' might an amnesiac Aziraphale get from a roast beef sandwich???

Do you think actual madeleines are likely to appear on screen in some capacity in S3?

Tiramisu has coffee, chocolate and alcohol, and thus feels like a VERY Ineffable-Husbands-speak dessert :D

Was poking around the Royal Albert Hall website for research purposes and found this: https://www.royalalberthall.com/tickets/tours-and-exhibitions/afternoon-tea/ Not quite as hyper-fancy as the Ritz, perhaps, but lots of little bits of Ineffable-speak meaningfulness in the food as well as being potentially a lovely little engagement celebration date???

Ehehehe

Hi, luv. Looking forward to reading your new writing! So many goodies to ponder here! 😍I actually have some madeleines today. And good coffee. It's raining here and ah, this is all a heavenly combination. 😊 Throwing this under a cut because your mention of tiramisu led me to write about two, related words in Ineffable Husbands Speak that I've noticed repeated: might and found...

We'll do the sea ties to insinuate while we're at it... 🐟

1- Cobbler: I need to do a whole thing on cobbler actually and will add & credit the findings you shared to you. I mainly just wanted to quickly make a post about how cobbler connects to sherry but there's actually a whole web of overlapping words they're using. It also ties to the root kob-- which quite literally means "good omens." 😊 I'll put a longer post on cobbler on the list.

2- Roast beef sandwich madeleine memories?:

*Bildad voice* You tell me... 😉

3- Madeleines on screen in S3?: I'm not expecting it but it would be fun. Would actually also go with the theme of the literal-and-the-figurative, especially with the food, so I guess it might actually be more likely than some other things. I mainly just want Aziraphale to eat something because he had a sherry and a couple of sips of tea in the present in S2 and that's why everything went sideways, really. That angel needs a sandwich in the worst way and in both ways that you can read that sentence.

4- Tiramisu: Yes. It actually also has one of my favorite meanings for any food, as it means a "pick-me-up" in Italian, which is very cute, no? It is very Ineffable Husbands-y for the reasons you mentioned and now you've got me going on about a word that we haven't heard them say lol but I can connect it to two words that they have said, so...

Tiramisu (originally from "tireme su") is thought to have been invented by the owner of a brothel in Treviso sometime around 1800. This innovative Mrs. Sandwich would offer it to clients as an aphrodisiac or as an after-treat and it was basically considered the Viagra of the 1800s in Italy. Coffee, alcohol, chocolate, as you pointed out... food + seamstressing = no way this isn't an Ineffable Husbands Speak thing.

It is perishable, as we know, and it was invented in a time before mainstream refrigeration so it originally wasn't as available outside of bigger cities, which is why it was often offered at the end of a client session as well, before the clients were sent home-- yeah, medicinal tiramisu was a thing. 😲 The actual origins of the dessert apparently weren't really discussed publicly until sometime around the 1980s as, once it became easier to keep things chilled, generations of Italian ladies were making tiramisu constantly and it got a bit awkward to acknowledge that all these adorable old nonnas for generations were passing down how to make this sexy dessert that was created in the first place by a lady bordello owner for, um, reasons...

But tiramisu would, by The Ineffable Husbands' wordplay rules, mix the origins and meanings of the word with its phonetic soundings in English and, as we've seen, French... so, it would also be spoken as: "tier a me sous."

A tier is an arrangement of things in an order and, also, in keeping with our amusing seamstressing origins of the dessert, rows of overlapping trim on a dress. Sous (the last s is silent) means under and/or below in French. In that way, expressing a desire for some tiramisu is expressing a desire for a tier in which you are sous your partner.

[Sidebar but this is reminding me that the sous vide style of cooking translates literally from French as "under/below the vacuum" and... I feel like Crowley does not have the willpower to have never not connected this to Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets in some way 😂... *doesn't look up from his book* "Oh, the Whickber Street Monthly Whatzit's getting takeaway? Gonna get the sous vide chicken this time, angel?"]

Tiramisu means a "pick me up"-- a mood-booster-- but "pick me up" is also obviously both tongue-in-cheek expression of wanting to be seduced and a request to be quite literally picked up, as in lifted off the floor... which is how you know that tiramisu is likely a dessert that Crowley thinks is the tops.

Since we're taking apart a word not in the series, I'll give you two others that tie to it that on their little vocab list: might and found.

There are at least two scenes that I've noticed so far where one of them is using the word might as innuendo in reference to Aziraphale. Might falls into the category of words like wily, thwart, smitten, etc..-- words that are amusing in how they have wildly different, often contradicting, definitions, and where at least one definition is a bit suggestive, allowing them to use it around angels or demons or in public with one definition on the surface and the flirtier one underneath.

On the one hand, might is the past tense of may and involves gentle suggestions or polite requests asking permission. On the other hand, the word might also has a real oomph when used in its other definition, which is to express the strength and power of a nation, a natural force, or a person.

It's basically Aziraphale in a word-- unfailingly polite and gentle on one level and full of raw strength on another.

The other word is found, which can be, uh, found lol, in the Crowley-penned Aziraphale entry in 'Demon's Guide to Angelic Beings...'. The sentence is actually constructed around the inclusion of 'found' and what makes that extra-amusing is that it suggests Crowley was eager to get the word in there, likely because of its nautical definition.

In seafaring terms, for a ship to be described as found is a very positive thing and, to be defined as such, it must meet both of two requirements:

The ship must be both well-equipped (*cough*) and, equally important, fully stocked.

A person who is stocked or stocky is, as we know, one who is broader, more shoulders and chest than height, and of a fuller and thicker build in thighs and arms. Someone like Aziraphale, who is physically strong and brawny and who would not have much difficulty picking up what would be being thrown down if Crowley were to order a tiramisu for dessert, if ya get mah drift...

Insinuate: To subtly introduce slowly into hearts and minds; to maneuver someone or something into a desired position; to thrust in, push in, or wind one's way into; to introduce with torturous slowness; and, of course, the best one: to hint at obliquely (ha!)

The sinu part of the word comes from sinus, a word that I've *achoo* been cursing all damn week because the gorgeous trees and plants are trying to kill me but which is Latin for all sorts of things a lot more pleasant than 'the part of the head that is often pounding during Spring.'

English-language writers of the dreamy sort-- the poets who call rainstorms "tempests", like a certain red-headed demon we know-- would also use sinus back in the day to describe a gulf, a bay, or "the arm of the sea", as well as any hole or cavity in the Earth.

Insinuate = In sinu ate. In the sea, eating. 😂

Why ever [eve/"temptation"/"sin"] would [wood] Aziraphale insinuate that Crowley might [mmm strong] possibly [which shares roots with potent] want [to want; also contains ant, the humans in the insect analogy] something [so/sew, me, thin; opposite of might]? = the actual dessert isn't invented yet in this scene in 1601 but seems like Crowley wants to get tiramisu'd something fierce...

5- Royal Albert Hall: Love this idea. It reminds me of how The British Museum also has an afternoon tea but how they've met in the cafe and how they've probably both wanted to get tea there. While I was on the Royal Albert Hall website, I was laughing over the copy on the menu for the box service, especially the *very* rare modern use of rhubarb in this way:

Choose from a wide range of canapés, sandwiches and sharing plates, finishing your meal with sweet treats. All food is prepared with the finest seasonal ingredients and is always presented with signature rhubarb style.

Aziraphale, back away from the copywriters... 😂

Cheers as always for the amusing stuff to think about @jotun-philosopher 💕

Original posts regarding fish, madeleines and memory, for anyone who might read this and is confuzzled and wondering wtf we're on about:

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

6 angst pls!!!!!

OK, so there 5 more asks of this same combo so I'm just gonna count them all as this one:)

Being on Harry's management team was mostly wonderful and a very positive experience so far. He was so kind, honest, direct, hard-working, receptive, and trusting. This conglomeration of traits made him a dream to work with. He hardly ever gave you any trouble, but he was human so of course, he made mistakes and bad judgement calls, but he was never one to come up with some elaborate scheme to distract from those things. He'd fix the issue with whoever had been involved and move on, he didn't feel a need to defend himself to the press or the public when they had nothing to do with his private problems. No twitter-storms for him and that made the management team's job pretty easy.

But just because Harry was a mellow and level-headed guy it didn't make him exempt from the old rumor mill. People just found any excuse to be nasty. And like any normal person, Harry had things going on in his personal life that sometimes just made him more sensitive or susceptible to feeling low. Like now... someone he had been seeing exclusively for a few months apparently hadn't granted him the same courtesy. A friend of his in London saw her kissing someone else and well...he didn't take it too well and out of frustration, he drunkenly kissed the next willing person and well...that backfired on him. And now the person he'd been seeing was telling everyone that he had cheated on her. Harry was really angry with that.

He knew that he couldn't control other people, but he just wished that the people he let into his life would just take a moment to think. Thankfully no one was really believing that he had been seeing this clout-chasing chick, but it still hurt his feelings. He had let her in to his life. He had slept with her, he had taken her on dates, he had told her things about himself...he felt betrayed and for some reason this particular time it was just taking a lot longer for him to bounce back.

In session, his writing was reflecting his evident frustration and he was being quite petty. This was personal and he hated that he was stooping to that level. He felt immature and incapable of handling what he was feeling and it was ridiculous.

"This is so fucking stupid..." he groaned into his hands. You'd watched this chaos unfold for long enough, so you decided to step in.

"Guys, I think it's a good time to take a little break. Get some lunch...take a walk..." she said to the others in the room.

"Yeah, good call." Harry mumbled and people started getting up to leave and as Harry stood from his seat and started walking out behind Mitch you called out to him.

"Not you, Harry!" you called after him and he patted Mitch on the back and said a couple things to him before Mitch gave him a thumbs up and headed off. Harry came back over to his previous seat as you stood at the control panel, just looking around. You were the newest addition to him team, hired on just shy of a year ago. You'd mostly been handling contracts though and he'd been touring and releasing films so you hadn't really had a lot of face-time with him. And he didn't know you as well as he knew the rest of his team, they'd been friends even before they managed him. So you got that you were new and that he was a bit unsure around you, but you just wanted to make sure he was OK.

"Look, I know that we've basically wasted the morning and that we're gonna need to pay for another day-"

"Harry, I don't care about that, I'll book another day out if you want it, no problem." you assured him, "I just wanted to make sure that you're OK." you said and his expression changed to a more relaxed one.

"Oh." he said and you offered him a slight and sympathetic smile.

"Yeah. I know it's been rough and I know that we don't know each other that well, but if you're not feeling this kind of work right now you don't have to do this." you explained and he smiled a bit.

"I know I've sucked today, but to the point where my own manager would rather I not do a writing session?" he asked and you chuckled.

"Can I be candid with you?" you asked and he nodded firmly, "I really like your music. And I'm not just saying that, it's heavily featured on a few of my playlists," you explained and he smiled, "And while I realize that some of the best work can come from painful or angry places, you're currently giving... Taylor Swift circa 2008-2009." you said and he literally burst out laughing and you chuckled softly at his reaction.

"Some might argue that those were her golden years." he said after he settled down.

"I'm not saying it's bad, but what I mean to say is she was a teenager then and it...shows. And not that you can't behave like a teenager as an adult... everyone's journey is different!" you defended and he chuckled, "But I know that's not you. And I just feel like you're just really frustrated with everything you're going through and it's not coming out right because you're kind of trying to force yourself to push through your hurt with this process." you said and he bit his lip sadly for a moment before he sighed.

"Look I'm just...feeling really hopeless right now. And you're absolutely right, that's not me." he shook his head as he looked in your eyes. "I feel so foreign to my own mind....like, when did it even know how to think that way?" he said and you nodded, "I mean...I can't accept to believe that things will never work out. That I'll never get a chance at a normal relationship again. That everyone in my life has an ulterior motive...but I'm starting to, Y/N." he said with so much hurt in his eyes, they were glossy from the tears forming and you just reached out and he grabbed your hand.

You didn't have any words to say to him. You had no idea what it felt like to be him. Anyone would think he'd have it easy, but it was harder than it was easier most of the time. You just wanted him to know that you heard him and that you were there with him, that's it. Your thumb ran over his knuckles in a comforting gesture and suddenly his tears startled to fall and he inhaled sharply as he tried to hold back his sob and you frowned when he just decided to let it out. You stood immediately and hugged him against your chest. His head was resting right over your heart and you just held his head with one hand and lightly scratched his back with the other. After a few minutes he'd calmed but made no move to get out of your hold. You understood, sometimes you just needed to be held.

"I'm sorry, I didn't plan to lay all that on you." he said quietly and smiled.

"It' don't mind it. It's why I'm here." you said and he let go of you and leaned back as he looked at you looking a bit perplexed.

"What you're here for?" he asked with some hurt in his voice and then you shook your head.

"Oh, not like as part of my job, Harry!" you explained quickly, "I mean like here here. Like on planet earth. As a human being I'm here to share experiences and relate with other human beings. To learn to care for each other and help each other..." you said and he nodded and then smiled slightly.

"Right...I was about to say, after everything I've just told you?" he chuckled lightly now and you did too as you place a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, sorry for the misunderstanding." you shook your head in a little embarrassment, "So did that help? Just...letting it out?" you asked him and he nodded.

"Yeah, I feel a bit better." he said.

"A bit is more than nothing." you said with a smile, taking the win and he nodded. "So, would you like to keep trying here or would you like to call it a day?" you asked him and he sighed and looked into your eyes.

"I think we should call it a day." he concluded.

"OK, I'll let the guys know." you said with a small smile and headed out to the food lounge. After you told them the new you chit-chatted for a bit before saying goodbye. You hummed happily as you considered the possibilities for the rest of your day... grab your things, pick up a nice bottle of wine, call your nail lady and to see if she could squeeze you in for a pedi? As you came back into the studio you that Harry had his things packed on the floor beside him while he sat on the arm of the couch. He glanced up when he heard you come in and you smiled, "Hey H, sorry if I kept you waiting, I got to talking. Did you need something else from me?" you asked.

"I'm gonna ask you something and it's gonna sound awful, but I promise I mean it in the most not awful way-"

"Harry, just ask." you interrupted him with a chuckle and he nodded.

"Right. Ummm...w-would you like to spend the night at mine?" he asked you and you looked at him skeptically.

"Like....for....?"

"Not sex!" he said right away and then shook his head, "Not because you're a person I wouldn't want to have sex with. Like I would if I had to. Like...last people on earth type of thing. But well, that sounds like I'd do it with you just because I had no other choice. Which I mean, I would still probably have sex with you given a choice, you know?" he finished his ramble and you just decided to not even go there.

"OK...so not for sex. So then for what?" you asked him.

"Just to be with someone. We could play board games or watch movies or tv...ummm, I'm pretty sure I've got everything I'd need to make banana bread... we could do that. Or just talk and listen to music? We can do whatever I just don't want to be alone." he admitted softly.

"Harry...I really want to, but I also work for you and I... just don't want to blur the boundaries too much." you explained.

"You literally just told me this is why you're here." he appealed to her, "I'm friends with Jeff and Tommy...why couldn't I be friends with you?" he asked and you smiled at him.

"You're not exactly asking a crazy question..." you said and he smiled lightly at you. "Fine. But I'm gonna go home and pack a bag. When I arrive I hope to smell some banana bread in the oven." you said and he smiled.

"Deal." he said and you nodded. He reached for your bag on the coffee table and handed it over and you smiled and thanked him as you walked down the hall. "Gonna go say good bye to the lads."

"Yeah, you go ahead." you assured him and he made his way down the other hall, "H!" you called after him and he glanced back, "You're gonna be OK. I promise." you said and he smiled before you waved and headed back to your car.

READ MORE PICTURE PROMPT BLURBS HERE!

[a-doubleh-x]

A little frustrated lately with the Hazbin fandom

At the present moment, it's been about 3 months since Hazbin Hotel's first season dropped. It's a lot of story at once, but it's also a proper start ever since the pilot era.

I'm sure most people expected some sort of controversy coming from a show that takes place in Hell, whose main characters include porn stars and murderers, but personally, I didn't expect the biggest ones to come from the fandom itself.

From the start we've heard of all sorts of tone deaf opinions coming from inside the house, included but not limited to:

• The idea that Angel Dust's character and his music video, Poison, glorifies abuse when its artistic intention clearly is to denounce it.

• The vitriol against problematic characters like Valentino, which has lead to the harrassment of cosplayers and fans of said characters.

• Ship wars mixed with hate speech, from SJWs claiming Alastor ships are ace erasure from Vaggie haters attacking Chaggie because it's canon.

I could go into detail on each of these incidents, but I won't go into it today. I'll just say for now I'm *really* disappointed by this fandom. I was really excited about HH because I thought it would bring much needed attention to certain topics, such as the still ongoing demonization of minorities to the crippling self loathing that comes from abusive relationships.

It feels like the people to whom the show's message is made for are the ones who are working the hardest to tear it down, which is not only a disservice to themselves but everyone involved as well. I expected the harshest criticism involving the show would come from the typical rabid christian ultra conservatives, but apparently they don't need to do their job anymore because they already got us to do it, apparently.

Hazbin Hotel became a creative spark for me when I was lost and empty of motivation. I began writing loads of fan fiction from just before season 1 came out, but during the latest weeks I've just gotten tired of it.

As a mutli-shipper, I'm constantly in the middle of ship wars. I'm hearing constantly on this very site of Charlastor shippers who hate Vaggie because she's supposedly terrible and hate her role in the show canon. I'm hearing of Charlastor haters that claim it's ace erasure, even though no shipper I've heard of denies the fact that Alastor is canonically ace. And worst of all, I hate the fact that some people still claim that Charlie is a lesbian and shouldn't be shipped with men when she's canonically bi.

As a biromantic person who recently came out of the closet, it used to be very liberating to write fics where Charlie gets involved with both Vaggie and Alastor. I like both characters and I like the idea of Charlie being romantically involved with both characters. But apparently the one thing that is not still worthy of respect in this day and age is divergence of opinions.

I came to this realization the other day when episode 2 of The Amazing Digital Circus came out. It's a smaller fandom, even though the audience attention is *massive*. I was looking through the community posts and... guess what? Practically little to none inflamatory speech or ship wars.

People there ship Pomni with Jax, Jax with Ragatha, Ragatha with Pomni, even Pomni with *Caine* for some bizarre reason that I can't comprehend and even Gangle and Zooble.

People *get* the intended message, which I must admit it can be largely attributed to the fact that the writing is better (sorry Vivz) and the episodes are more sparce. But the few people who don't get it don't go around attacking anyone with a different opinion or the showrunners themselves.

I apoligize formaking an unfair comparison, since, as I previously mentioned, these two fandoms have very different sizes and their respective shows deal with very different issues, but I'm just expressing my perspective.

I'm still highly disappointed in Hazbin fans. I expected better than you, but if this post reaches the type of fans I'm talking about, I'm sure they're happy that I'm upset. So, congratulations, you won.

Anyways, I'm gonna stop writing Hazbin fics for a while, for how long, who knows and I'm going to start writing TADC fics instead. I already had an idea in mind, so it's little trouble for me.

Thank you to the fans who have been engaging in peaceful discourse and have sated my shipping thirst so far with wonderful art and writing pieces alike. You've pulled me through some hard times, but it's time for me to part.

Sorry as well for the melodramatic tone of this post, but I'm just really sad and general and I need something to obsess with in order to prevent my inner demons from taking over.

In any case, thank you for reading, and I hope to see you all again soon 👋

[silentmoths]

A cold cure for Insomnia

Hey look, it's not a genshin fic

wild huh?

I'll preface this with 2 things: 1: I am, for some reason, incredibly nervous abt posting a fic that is 100% outside my wheelhouse. I've never actually posted anything but genshin fic since I started uploading a couple years ago, only like, one friend has ever seen anything else from me so this is a bit of a step. 2: this is nothing put pure, indulgent lesbian bullshit and I'll also note that I have no idea how to write f/f smut, so be gentle with me.

If you're only here for my genshin stuff, have a nice day and we'll be back to regularly scheduled bullshittery shortly. Until then, please enjoy me, self indulging over my pokemon wife.

Elite 4 Rika x Fem!Reader 7.4k words, not proofread, we die like prof. sada

NSFW, honestly it's just a whole lot of fkn smut with some fluff sprinkled in there, praise kink, hair pulling, use of toys, oral, tribbing, koraidon being an unintentional wingman.

What a day.

Sometimes you wonder how Nemona did it, rushing around doing champion things all the time. Honestly, ever since you’d beat Geeta all those years ago while you were still in school, it felt like every day was ‘go here, check this gym, go there, check that gym.’ And you were getting a little tired of it.

Especially recently, with Nemona currently travelling somewhere in the Kalos region doing Arceus knows what, and Geeta being stuck in paperwork hell with the Academy preparing for their annual treasure hunt, you’d been swamped, needing to go and check every. Single. Gym. to make sure they were all up to par.

(who knows maybe this year a new student would claim the champion title and you could retire? That’d be nice.)

Montenevera was the last stop on your trip, and while the vibe was always lovely in the snowy mountain town…you’d never been particularly fond of the cold… Only made worse by Rhyme and her gang of ghost pokemon sending a particular shiver down your spine that you just couldn’t shake.

Night had fallen by the time you finally walked out the sliding doors of the League building, only to be greeted by your one nemesis. 

Fucking snow.

Here, on the outskirts of Mesagoza.

You wanted to scream, but that wasn’t very becoming of a League champion now was it?

So with a sigh, you reach for a specific pokeball on your hip. The trek home wasn’t far, but in the sleet and cold, you knew it’d be faster if you rode.

Koraidon however, apparently had other ideas. 

The moment his feet touch the cold ground, he yelps and backs right up and into the League building once again.

“Koraidon…c’mon bud, we just need to get home.” you sigh “I know you’re tired too…I promise to make you the best dang sandwich when we get home…yeah?” 

The paradox pokemon simply looks at you with wide, sad eyes and a low chitter before he willingly returns to his ball. 

Great….just great. Not even your most reliable pokemon was willing to brave even more snow, not after today.

“Woah-ho, what’s gotten under his scales?” a familiar voice sounds from behind you, snapping you from your despondent staring at Koraidon’s pokeball. The familiar click of dress boots give her away before Rika steps into view.

How she always managed to look so very casual while pulling off suspenders was beyond you, but every time you were anywhere in the vicinity of the first member of the Elite four, you found your mouth running dry and your mind wandering very far away from here. She tilts her head at you and it takes her waving her hand in front of your eyes to realise you were absolutely staring at her.

Way to go.

“Woah, you alright? You look wiped.” She comments, her brow furrowing as she looks you up and down. 

“A-ah…yeah, sorry…s’been a long few days…” you eventually mumble, turning your gaze to the floor as you clip Koraidon’s ball back to your belt with the others. “Geeta’s had me checking and rechecking all the gyms to make sure they’re ready for the next treasure hunt…we just got back from Montenevera…cold…tired…and now it’s snowing a-and Koraidon is just…too tired to take me home..” 

A slender, comforting hand gently rests between your shoulder blades, rubbing small, soothing circles and it takes everything in you to not crumble apart there, man, how desperate did you have to be to nearly cry at friendly touch? “You live all the way on the other side of town, dontcha?” She asks, her free hand raising to push some of her green hair from her face as the look of worry on her features only seems to grow “Ain’t no way you’re making that walk in this state…”

“I’ll live…” you sigh, hanging your head and readjusting your bag as you lift your head to look at the snow flurry that was definitely only getting heavier.

“Nah, C’mon, you can crash at mine tonight, it’s closer.” Rika chimes, patting you on the back and passing you a wink before she heads out the door. 

You blink, watching her back in silence, there was no way she had just invited you to spend the night, absolutely no way. You needed to go see a doctor and maybe get your hearing checked-

“You comin? Or did Rhyme’s Toxtricity paralyse you up there in Montenevera?” She calls, stopping and looking over her shoulder. There's a…a look in her eyes that you can't quite make out, but it makes your heart jackhammer just that little bit, especially when she turns and offers her hand “C’mon, let's get you home, yeah?”

You swallow the lump in your throat as you blink at her outstretched, gloved hand and then up at her smile.

Arceus, you were weak…how you ever made champion when you can’t even look the first of the Elite four in the eye without feeling your cheeks heat, you’ll never know.

Finally, you reach out and take her hand, not expecting her to tug you into her side, arm draping over your shoulders as she starts walking again, all but pulling you along with her. Her hand gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as she shares her body warmth with you on the trek down the mountainside towards the tunnel. For someone so slim, she was…much warmer than you expected, and you find yourself sleepily zoning out, simply focusing on one food in front of the other.

Thankfully, Rika was pretty alright with not needing to make small talk. This wasn’t the first time you had both just…existed in the same space in silence…to be fair the silence on your part before was because you had no idea how to talk to her without muddling your words like a lovestruck idiot, and perhaps that was still the case. Regardless, you play up the ‘tired’ aspect and simply bask in being close.

The unfortunate downside to the tunnel from Mesagoza up to the League headquarters, was the wind. Right now? Frigid and inhospitable, the icy chill stinging at your eyes, at least until your companion comes to your rescue, shifting you behind her taller frame and blocking the wind, hand moving from your shoulder to your hand, giving that same reassuring squeeze as she looks over her shoulder, small smile on her face.

You swear you can feel her thumb gently rubbing over your knuckles as she bends her arm behind her back to keep a secure hold on you.

Rika…she really was something else, something you didn’t deserve.

The moment the tunnel spits you both out into Mesagoza’s side streets, she takes an immediate right. Had you been walking home, you would have had to take a left and trudge all the way to the other side of the city, past the academy and almost to the pokemon centre by the west gate. 

The flurry of snow was only getting worse, you can feel your clothes growing heavy and damp, and the concrete was getting slippery. Thankfully it’s not all that long before she tugs you into an apartment building and into a blessedly warm elevator. Holding you steady as your world begins to spin and blur at the edges. Perhaps you really had pushed it a bit too much today, hitting Cascarrafa, Glaseado and Montenevera in a single day…

“Hey.” Rika murmurs as your head rests against her shoulder “Stay with me, nearly there, kay? We’ll get you inside n’warmed up, yeah?” 

“Mmh…kay..” you manage to mumble back, simply enjoying being held, even if it was light. Her arm wrapped around your torso as you just breath. She smells like Cedarwood…and maybe a hint of Ozone…might have something to do with her Camerupt… but it’s not an unwelcome scent at all. You only get a few moments to enjoy it before the elevator chimes, and you’re gently tugged out into, and down a hallway. Rika’s free hand fishing her keys from her pocket. She has to let you go to get the door open, muttering something about a stuck lock and needing to call maintenance, but with a bodily shove of her shoulder, the lock clicks and the door swings open.

Her apartment is blessedly warm, she must have left the heater on when she left for work this morning, because the warm air nearly takes you out before you even enter the door, needing to lean against the frame with a relieved sigh, knowing that even if you had made it home tonight, your heater had definitely not been on, and hadn't been for several days.

Rika only laughs softly, gently pulling you inside so she could close the door. 

“Here…lets get you to the bathroom and into the shower…you’re absolutely freezing.” She mutters. Half-carrying you down the hall. Her apartment is…honestly what you expected. Neat enough, but not overly tidied. Lived in, comfortable, Inviting. Shades of soft greens and earthy tones scattered everywhere, a few large pokemon beds scattered about for her pokemon to enjoy outside of their balls. The only things really alluding to the fact that Rika was far more well off than most had to be the massive TV mounted to the living room wall, and what looked like one of the newer game consoles…the ones that had been super hard to get because of a manufacturing supply issue…fancy.

You don't quite register that she’s slowly pulling your clothes away from you until she’s already got your beanie, scarf and jacket off, each item thrown into her laundry hamper, at some point she’d also already started the shower for you, the room already beginning to fill with steam. You snap back to reality when theres a gently tug at the hem of your shirt, silently asking for your permission to remove it. 

“O-oh, I uh…s-sorry…” you mumble, raising your arms above your head anyway, cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment as she pulls the item away, the tank top beneath still leaving you modest enough to not die on the spot. “I-I can handle it from here…” 

“You sure?” she murmurs softly “S’no big deal to me.” 

“Y-yeah…I’ll be fine…thanks.” 

You watch as the tiniest hint of…disappointment? Flickers across her features…no, surely you were imagining…but she doesn’t push it any further.

“Alrighty, I’ll go find something you can wear for the night and then throw your clothes in the laundry once you’re in the shower, yeah?”

“Mm…t-thank you Rika…you really…you didn’t have to-” you mumble, unable to meet her gaze, but she just smiles and shrugs, her fingers slowly pushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. 

“And what if I wanted to? You look like you need a break.” She retorts, sliding past you and continuing down the hall before you can reply.

Soon enough, the rest of your clothes join the laundry hamper and you slip into the shower, beneath the scalding spray and you want to cry all over again, your fingers begin to prick with pins and needles as they slowly regain feeling, serves you right for leaving your gloves at home.

A few minutes into your shower, you hear the distinctive, soft thud of cloth hitting the counter. “Here’s some jammies, sorry if they’re a bit big.” Rika chuckles before vanishing back down the hall. You almost don’t want to get out of the hot spray, especially not once you start giving yourself a good scrub down with whatever fancy-branded body wash she kept in here.

At least now you know what to buy that would make you smell like cedarwood…

After you feel the last of the day’s grime finally wash from your body, you shut off the water and poke your head out of the shower. Thankfully Rika had already left a towel waiting atop the clothes she’d sacrificed to you. It’s as you’re drying off that you finally get a good look in the mirror and…wow…

Now you think you understand why she’d been so concerned…you look like you had two black eyes, that's how tired you were…

–

You find Rika relaxing in the living room watching TV when you finally emerge, changed into a fresh set of long pyjamas and- you can’t even stop the giggle when you notice the clodsire slippers.

“Where on earth did you get those?” you ask, pointing to said slippers, earning a grin and a snicker from their wearer.

“Larry actually.” She chuckles “secret santa a couple years back.” With that, she pats the spot on the couch next to her, and you, now warm and content, plop down beside her without a second thought, leaning against the arm of the couch with a content sigh. “How’re you feelin?” she asks, idly flipping through the channels.

“Mmh…much better…thank you again…I…I don’t think I would have made it home…not in this weather.”

“Oh I coulda told you that, Honey. In fact I’m pretty sure I did.” She snickers, her lips quirking at the side when she notes the way your cheeks flush pink at the pet name. “I’ve ordered some takeout, s’too cold to go out n’ grab food...and I’m usually too beat after work to bother cooking.” 

“Then how the hell do you stay so skinny?” You snicker at her, receiving a wink in response.

“Oh I take my cardio seriously.” is all the response she gives before she finally decides there is nothing decent on regular TV, and switches over to a streaming service, throwing on some random popular movie. 

Once again, you both settle into a comfortable silence, Rika rising from the couch half an hour in to fetch the dinner left at her door before returning, at some point with a blanket in tow. You sit up a little as she places the food on the coffee table and plops down right beside you this time, draping the blanket over both your laps. It’s not until you take the first mouthful of that delightful galarian curry, that you realise just how hungry you are, barely paying attention to the movie as you scarf down your meal, fighting back tears at Rika’s acts of kindness for the third time today, and only seemingly taking a breath once you’ve finished your meal, leaning back into the arm of the couch with a content sigh, only to squeak when Rika finishes her own a few minutes later and bodily leans into your side, head to your chest and arms slowly wrapping around your torso as she pulls her legs up and gets comfortable beside you with a content huff.

Arceus she was just so…so handsome, breathtaking… and she was just…cuddling you like you’d both been doing this kind of thing for years… it was sudden, but it didn’t feel wrong…and slowly, you bring your arm down from where it had been splayed along the back of the couch, to gently card through her hair, pulling some of her bangs from her face and tucking them behind her ear.

“Hmm…you should get some sleep, kiddo…arceus knows you need it.” She hums, glancing up at you from her spot on your chest. You know she’s right, and she doesn’t complain when you shift, even reaching behind her to hand you an extra cushion to tuck behind your head as you lay out along the couch, Rika coming to rest between your legs, head once again leaning onto your chest, her extra warmth and weight just adding another layer of comfort as you both go back to watching the movie.

Now usually, usually you were the kind of person who could drop off watching a movie quite easily. But on very rare occasions, you would find yourself struck with bouts of insomnia, and unfortunately for you, they always seemed to happen after periods of prolonged stress.

Like needing to go and personally make sure every gym was up to standards… 

Before you even knew it, the credits begin to roll, you’re exhausted, but offensively awake, to the point where even Rika is surprised, blinking those beautiful crimson eyes up at you. 

“Can’t sleep?” she asks with a tilt of her head. 

“Sometimes Insomnia is a bitch.” You concede, she makes a noise of understanding. 

“Ah, yeah…I know that feeling…” she admits, staring up at you, to the point you feel your cheeks heating again, and you avert your gaze “but, thankfully, I know the best solution for that.” She adds, shimmying to push herself up on her hands and knees, looming over you, some of her hair, having been free’d of its usual ponytail, cascading over her shoulders to tickle at your face.

“O-oh? And…what might that be?” that look in her eyes is back, the one you couldn’t quite read properly back at HQ, but here, with her inches from your face? It’s loud and clear.

Hunger. 

“Do you trust me?” She asks, her lips quirking into a smirk as you shrink beneath her. 

“W-would I have followed you home if I hadn’t?” you manage to squeak back at her, nowhere near as confident and commanding as it had sounded in your head. It’s enough to make her chuckle, and you watch in a daze as she licks her lips, a single hand coming up to softly grip your chin, lifting your face. 

“Hm, touche…” and with that, her lips are on yours, she swallows the squeaking gasp that you let out, taking the opportunity of your mouth being open to send her tongue in to explore. To you it feels like electricity, like you’d just taken a thunderbolt to the senses; She’s soft, gentle, probing, gauging your reactions. Apparently she must have liked what she got, because she deepens the kiss, nipping at your lips as one hand tangles in your hair, rougher. You like this a bit better. 

You’re the one who needs to come up for air first, pulling your face away with a loud, breathless gasp as you try to catch your breath. 

The look you find waiting for you is…predatory, is the only word that comes to mind, and if it wasn’t for the fact she was already between your knees, you’d be squeezing your thighs together so tight, because it’s doing something…funny to your insides.

“Hmm…you ever done anything like…this before?” She asks, voice low and husky and you’re very ready to pass away, but you manage a shake of your head and the grin you get in response? 

It’s like a Mightyena who’s just found it’s lunch. She was going to eat you, and she was going to enjoy every second of it. 

“Well then, we’d best move…couch sex is great n’ all, but I’d rather your first time be somewhere a little more comfortable.” she remarks, pulling away. You whine at the loss of her extra warmth, but that whine quickly turns to a yelp when she takes your arm and drags you up with a strength she hadn’t shown you before. Always full of tricks, Rika was. 

The admittedly short trek down the hall to her room is…hindered. Every few steps you’d find yourself pressed against the wall, Rika towering over you as hands tangle in your hair and lips crash to yours as she steals what little breath you manage to catch before you’re separating, taking a couple more steps and repeating the process. 

Right outside the bedroom door, the slim trainer actually lifts you up the wall a ways, enough so that your legs instinctively wrap around her waist, nothing but her pyjama pants and the thin boxer’s you’d borrowed off her keeping you apart, but already entirely too much clothing in the way. You moan loudly when she rolls her hips into yours, the sensations all new and overwhelming, but you don't think you’ve ever felt this good before in your life.

Her hands find your ass as she pulls back from the wall, holding you to her firmly as you both finally stumble into her room, only given a second to brace before she’s throwing you down into the blankets, and even less time before she’s on you, grinning and hungry as hands fly up your top, pushing it up your chest so she can finally access some skin.

“A-ah! Rika-” her name was lost on her for the time being, far too engrossed in leaving open mouthed kisses along your chest and stomach, mouth latching over one of your nipples while her hand works at the other. Your own hands twisting and clenching at her blanket, your squirming only made worse when she shifts again, her knee pressing between your legs and right against your aching cunt. 

At some point, she manages to wrangle the top off you completely, throwing it to the void so her hands can explore the expanse of your chest properly, she leaves no patch of skin untouched, no freckle or blemish uncharted, and when your whining begins to pitch as the nipple she sucks on becomes too sensitive, she gets go, only to latch to your collar bone instead, hands roaming your body.

You let out an embarrassingly pitiful mewl when her fingers dip beneath the waistband of your borrowed boxers, and you immediately bring a hand up to cover your mouth. Rika, apparently, doesn’t like that. Her hand retreating from its place as she props herself on the other, pulling away entirely, even shifting her knee back, depriving you of that delicious friction. Your hand is tugged away from your mouth and pinned to your side, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Don’t.” She scolds quietly “I wanna hear you.”

“B-but-” 

“Don’t be a brat.” she interjects, eyes flashing dangerously “I know that aint’ you… you wanna be a good girl, yeah?”

Oh.

Oh no.

That shouldn’t have such an effect on you. 

There’s no hiding it from Rika either. Her smirk widens as she stares smugly down at your trembling frame. 

“Oh? You like that huh? Well then, are you gonna be a good girl and do as I say?” she hums “I’ll make sure you feel real good, yeah?”

“M-mhm…” is all you manage to squeak out, earning a raised eyebrow.

“What was that? Didn’t quite hear you there, princess.” Rika snickers. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and the humiliation burns your ears and makes your insides squirm in a way you didn’t think would feel as good as it did.

“I-I’ll be good…” you whisper, your hands twisting into the sheets as Rika hums, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your burning cheek. 

“That’s a good girl.” she purrs “you just relax n’let me handle things, kay?”

You actually sigh into the kiss when she does finally return to what she was doing, your arms wrapping over her shoulders as she shifts back into place, hands lightly roaming your skin, teasing and testing sensitive spots, occasionally getting a little rougher, just enough to rile you a little more, before settling again. Before she can get back into your pants however, you tug at her shirt, whining into her mouth; thankfully, Rika is smart, she gets your hint and pulls away just long enough to tug her top off.

Her skin is soft, smooth, a few burn scars and claw marks here and there as she settles beside you, one of your thighs caught between her knees as she wraps an arm under your shoulders, pulling you close to her chest as the other hand grazes southward, she doesn't dally once her fingers breech the waistband of your boxers, quickly locating the sticky mess between your thighs with a pleased hum.

“Mmm, look at that…” she hums as a pair of fingers easily delve through your pussy, retracting from your boxers entirely so she can admire the glistening slick dripping from her fingers. “You’re so wet already, honey…” Rika makes sure you watch as she pops those two fingers into her mouth and you squeak, face burning in embarrassment. 

She doesn’t give you much time to react, the moment she pulls those slender fingers from her lips, she shifts, your boxers are wrenched off and you’re left bare before her as she parts your knees to settle on her belly between your thighs, eyes flashing devilishly in the low light, and hot breath ghosting over your most sensitive parts.

“R-Rika-”

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to get you into my bed.” She rasps between open-mouthed kisses along your thighs, arms wrapping around to keep yout hips in place as she takes her sweet time. “When was it… mmh, yeah I think it was…two years ago? Koraidon suddenly came out of his ball all sorry lookin’ in the middle of a meeting…”

Oh Arceus, you remember that meeting… Perhaps you’d been a little soft with Koraidon…he’d learnt that if he looked sorry enough, you’d make him a sandwich… but it was getting awfully hard to focus when a warm tongue suddenly licks a flat stripe into your cunt, and lips seal around your clit, shocking you from your thoughts as her strong hands prevent you from accidentally crushing her head with your thighs.

“Without even stopping to think, you got up n’ you got him what he needed.” she whispers into your thigh once she finally pulls away “middle of a meetin… n’ heres our newest champion, making a sandwich for her pokemon.” she chuckles “I dunno…something about how casually you just…did that…I’ve wanted this ever since but Geeta’s always had you running all over the place, pinning you down has always been impossible…least until today.” 

“Rika…”

“You’re always doing everything for everyone else… you deserve to relax.” For a brief moment, she flashes you a genuine smile, not a hint of that handsome smirk that you’re so used to; just genuine warmth before she tugs you down by your hips and returns her mouth to you, long strokes of her tongue between your folds that leave any words dead in your throat, and your hands tangling in her hair for any semblance of control. You didn’t want to hurt her, but when she sucks harshly on your clit, you cry out and yank on her hair a little harder than you’d meant to, any apology dying when she groans and shudders, her eyes rolling back for a moment. 

“You’re killin me, kid.” She sighs in the brief moment she brings herself to separate from you “keep doin that and you might end up in trouble.”

It sounds like a threat… but the way she suddenly looks so…debauched, has you tugging at her silky hair again when a pair of fingers slowly begin to prod at your core, spurring her on as you squirm and mewl.

Eventually, you feel something deep in your belly, different from before, something building that has your breath coming harshly as you try to squirm away, stopped by a firm hand pressing just below your navel.

“R-rika-! s-somethings…I-I feel-” you whimper as the pressure builds, you expect her to pull away in concern, but her eyes flash with realisation, and she only seems to double down, her long, slender fingers curling inside of you and brushes against…something. Something that has you nearly scream her name as that pressure snaps and your world turns white, fingers curling harshly into her hair.

Somewhere, through the haze, you feel a weight resting on you, and a hand resting on your cheek, but it takes a little longer for your ears to finally stop ringing and realise Rika was gently calling your name.

“There you are..” She chuckles softly as you finally remember how to uncross your eyes and look at her. “That looked intense…you ok?” 

“Uh…uh-huh…” you respond dumbly, resting your cheek against her hand “what…what was that..?”

Rika’s lips pull into a thin, concerned line as her brows furrow.

“They really didn’t teach sex-ed at the academy, did they?” She asks.

“I-I mean…they did…s’just…basic..” you mumble as you slowly come down from…whatever high that just was.

“Obviously.” she sighs with a shake of her head “Was that seriously your first orgasm?” 

Oh.

“oh…I uh…yeah…I guess it was.” and the humiliation was back. You knew what an orgasm was in theory…you’d just..never bothered to try it yourself. 

“Well…I suppose I should count myself honoured then.” She snickers, leaning in to kiss at your undoubtedly sweaty forehead. “Couple more of those N’ I think you’ll be sleeping like a Komala.” 

“M-more…?” you whisper, she laughs, catching your wide-eyed expression.

“Oh yeah, that was just foreplay, sweet thing…you did so well.” 

And the praise was back, despite the way your joints feel molten hot, you still manage to squirm beneath her. 

“I- s-should I…um…h-help you now?” your question is barely a whisper, all nerves…you have no idea how she did what she did but it felt…wrong to take and not give. 

But Rika only shakes her head. 

“What’d I say before?” she chides, slowly sitting back on her knees “Your one job tonight is to relax…I’ve got you.” 

“But…what about you-”

“Don’t you worry about me. I’ll get off eventually.” She chuckles, smirking when you sigh and relent. “I want one more outta you before then though.” She mumbles as she shifts out from between your knees, sitting and reaching for her bedside table as you stare at the ceiling, basking in the shaky afterglow. 

“D-did you…mean what you said before?” you mumble more at the ceiling than anything “that you’ve been…waiting for this..?” 

“What reason do I have to lie to you?” She chuckles as she fiddles with…whatever she’s fiddling with. “You earned my respect the day you beat me when you first took on the Elite four, my admiration when you beat Geeta and became a champion…”

“God…those stupid glasses haunt me.” you snicker, remembering rather vividly being sat, alone in a room with Rika when you had first taken on the league, you’d read up plenty on other pokemon leagues in other regions, but never once had any of them had an interview-style exam right at the start.

“Hey, I like my glasses, thank you very much!” Rika snorts as she finally shifts back over, pulling you close with one arm as something…new slides between your legs, a quick glance and- oh.

You never really took Rika for the kind to own toys…but…at the same time, you never really gave it much thought. It’s nothing extreme, but to you, who’s never had anything other than a pair of slender fingers inside you very recently, the silicone toy is still rather intimidating. 

“This ok?” She asks, mouthing at your neck and shoulder “if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

“I…I do..just..nervous is all.” 

“Mmh, good girl, so trusting…” there she goes again with the pet name that makes you shiver, not helped by the cold press of lubricated silicone against your still-sensitive cunt, gently pressing just that little bit further as Rika mouths your neck, nibbling down on the juncture between throat and shoulder, an adequate distraction as she pulls your leg out of the way with her own and sinks the toy in, slowly, almost tender as she coos comforts, coaxing you to relax, praise falling from her easily. 

“Look at that, you took it so well.” She praises once the toy reaches the hilt “fuck, you’re making me regret not buying a harness… might just have to pick one up so I can fuck you proper, yeah?” 

You can't even bring yourself to respond to her dirty talk, blinking hazily downwards as you gently press a hand just below your belly-button, taking the hint, Rika pulls the toy almost all the way out and then thrusts it back in. The feeling of it inside you, plus being able to feel it beneath your hand makes you moan loud and long, head falling back against the pillows as Rika lets you go, using her now free arm to prop herself up to watch you as she begins rhythmically working the dildo in and out of you, a small shift of her thumb has it brushing against your clit every time she sinks the silicone back into you, only adding to the layers of pleasure as your toes curl and your legs twitch.

“Look at you taking it like you were made for this, good girl.” she purrs, licking at her lips “I really shoulda found another reason to get you alone waaay before now.”

“Ungh…please…p-please…more…” It takes more than you feel like it should to beg, good as it felt, you’re worried that Rika was perhaps treating you just a little too softly. “Rika please…please please pleas-”

“Woah there, settle down baby.” She whispers, kissing at your cheek “Lookit you, telling me what you want like a good girl…who am I to deny the champion?” 

Your attempt at telling her she didn’t need to use your title is quickly drowned out when she sits up, plunging the toy deeper inside of you with this new angle, brushing up against that one spot that had triggered your last orgasm. Her free hand pins your chest down as she smiles down at you, predatory and hungry for your reactions as she ups the pace, occasionally stopping to really grind the toy deep inside of you, right against that sensitive spot that has your voice pitch higher while you grip at Rika’s hand like your life depended on it.

As your next orgasm draws closer, you whimper, tugging at her hand, overstimulated ,overwhelmed, knowing you needed something, but not quite sure what that something was. At least until Rika pulls you to sit up, not even interrupting her pace as she braces you against her chest so you can hide your face away into the crook of her neck. All the while she mutters praise and pet names into your ear. She groans when that knot snaps for the second time tonight and you cry her name into her throat. You don’t pass out like you’re pretty sure you did last time at least, but as the shocks of pleasure begin to fade out, you really do begin to feel the pull of exhaustion behind your eyes as you slump against Rika’s shoulder, whimpering quietly when she slowly pulls the toy from your sensitive core, feeling the way your muscles involuntarily clench around it.

“How was that, baby? You doin alright?” She asks, gently tossing the toy back towards the bedside table as she turns her attention back to you. You were dizzy, dazed, and exhausted, yet through all that one thought still persisted.

She’d been doing all of this for you, and she still had her goddamn pants on.

Her breath hitches when your hand drops to her thighs, pressing beneath the waistband as you try to swallow down your nervousness to return the favour properly, biting your lip as you find the slick, wet mess already waiting for you; in a way, it was comforting to know that she was in fact, turned on by all of this. You’re clumsier than Rika at this, inexperienced and nervous, but you listen as she lets out a shuddering breath, her head leaning against yours for a moment as you slowly gain some confidence. That is until she grabs your wrist, ignoring your whine as she pulls your hand away and lays you back down, taking a moment to kiss any air out of your lungs, trying to calm your fraying nerves at being denied the chance to please her. 

“Hey… It’s ok sweetie.” She murmurs against your lips, uncaring of your wide-eyed pout “One more…”

“Nooo.” you whine, wiggling in her grip “I cant…s’too much Rika…” truly, you didn't think you could take another, no matter how good it felt, the first two had been so intense, but Rika only smiles. 

“I know you can give me one more, sweet girl.” she purrs, watching as you squirm and shake your head like you could actually deny her. “Will you stop being a brat if I told you this one will also get me off?” 

At that, your squirming stops as you blink tiredly up at her, earning a chuckle and a fond shake of her head. 

“R-really?”

“Yeah, s’nice n easy on you too…you wanna try?” 

You seriously doubted she could get another out of you, hell, you seriously doubted you could stay awake for much longer, her initial plan definitely working…but if it brought her pleasure too…

“O-ok…I’ll try…”

“That’s my girl.” She whispers softly, pressing just as soft a kiss to your lips “Lay back for me, princess.”

You do just that, shifting a few pillows to get comfortable, if you thought your joints ached before, now you felt like you've made the trip to the three final gyms today on foot…perhaps you should make Koraidon his favourite sandwich as thanks for carrying you around all day.

You feel Rika take hold of one of your legs, lifting it so your knee bends over her shoulder as she settles into place, finally free of her own bottoms as she slots her pelvis against yours. You gasp at the feeling of your cores pressing together. It felt…soft, but almost way more intimate and intense than anything she’d done to you prior…whatever she was doing, definitely wasn’t covered in any sex-ed class you’d taken back in school.

You’re about to ask, when she rolls her hips and oh- 

Perhaps it was your already overstimulated state, or just the position itself, but as she slowly grinds herself against you, the friction leaves you breathless, even more so when you look at Rika’s face. Her brow is furrowed in deep concentration as she bites at her bottom lip, face contorting in pleasure as she groans into your knee, her nails digging into the soft flesh of your thigh as she rolls her hips just a little harder, the pain only adding to the sensation.

“S-shit…” she pants, “fuck you feel so good…good girl..” she moans, head tilting back as she stares up at the ceiling, shuddering when you whimper and lift your hips as she rolls down again, sending another jolt of pleasure through you both. “That’s it princess, j-just like that… you’re gettin real good at this…” 

Her words of pleasured praise do…something else to you, sparking that last bit of energy you had left to life as you continue to try and keep rhythm with her, grinding together slow and deep and watching in awe as the first member of the elite four comes apart in front of you for the first time, her sounds going from quite whispers to long moans and pleasured keens. 

“Rika- R-rika…” you pant “mmf-fuck… can’t believe it’s taken this long..” the words are out of your mouth before you have the forethought to think about them “I’ve had the stupidest crush on you since we first met back when I was taking the gym challenge… you were so- ah! H-handsome and intimidating…I…thought you were a-a man and nearly called you S-sir-”

“FUCK-” her shout actually makes you jolt, and you realise she’s cumming, cunt grinding deliciously into your own as she bites down on your leg, the sudden extra jolt of pleasure-pain sending you over the edge as well with an open-mouthed scream.

Somewhere in the haze before you pass out, you make a mental note to try calling Rika ‘sir’ next time…if there was a next time.

–

It’s light out when you wake the next morning, blinking sleep from your eyes as you look out the window.

Seems the snow had only picked up during the night, most of which you don't remember after…well, everything. Save for a straw in your mouth, Rika’s gentle voice coaxing a few sips of fluid into you, and a damp cloth wiping you down, hushing your overstimulated whimpers of protest. 

Somehow she’d even managed to get you dressed again without waking you…you must have crashed hard. Yet the thing that sticks out to you is that the bed is severely lacking in another body, Rika nowhere to be found.

At first, a pit of worry sows itself into your gut. Had she gone to sleep on the couch after all that? Had she had second thoughts-

A clatter from down the hall, and her warm laughter however, abate that somewhat.

“You’re such an ungainly thing.” you hear her snicker “Hold on a second it’s nearly done, needy lizard.” 

Koraidon’s telltale ‘i'm hungry and sad, feed me’ whine quickly turns to happy chirping at the promise of food, his head turning to the hallway as you shuffle out of bed, blanket and all to trudge down the hall. happily leaving Rika to her business as he trots over to greet you, shoving his massive snout right into your belly. 

“See? All your complainin’ woke her up!” Rika snorts, resting a hand on her hip. “N’here i was trying to make you breakfast before you woke up…”

Your cheeks heat a little at the sentiment.

“Keyword is try…good luck getting any cooking past Koraidon…” you mumble softly, petting said pokemon’s head feathers down as the other trainer leaves the kitchen, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. 

“Well, initially I’d enlisted him to help, but that turned out to be a bust..” She snickers. “G’mornin.”

“M-morning..” 

Rika tilts her head at you with an amused grin “aw, actin all shy after everything that happened last night?” she muses, chuckling when all the response you give is a slightly redder face before you drop your head into Koraidon’s feathers. Her amusement soon melts away as a warm, now intimately familiar hand, comes to rest on your back. 

“Hey…” she sighs “I enjoyed myself last night… I hope you did too…” 

“I-I did… its just…I…” you nibble at your bottom lip, unable to come up with the words to describe how you’re feeling. Giddy and nervous, emotional and excited, all wrapped up into one package.

Thankfully, your companion seems to take it in stride, pressing another kiss to your temple before she returns to the kitchen.

“Oh by the way.” She pipes up after a moment. “Geeta called this morning…snow’s a little too heavy today so HQ’s shut…looks like we have a long weekend.” 

Oh, an extra day off? That's probably the best news you could have gotten today, considering your legs were still shaking like a newborn deerling…

“Nice..” you giggle, slowly shuffling towards the couch, pulling her blanket up over your shoulders as you flop down by the arm and get cozy. 

“Thats what I said.” She snickers, soon joining you with a hot plate of food. If you’d thought the galarian curry last night had been good, this trumped it, your body screaming for food after last night’s exertion. 

“Y’know, if you want…you’re more than welcome to crash here for the weekend…” Rika throws the offer casually as she eats, content smile upon her face as she watches you from the corner of her eye “Snow’s only gotten heavier since yesterday, n’I don't wantcha getting hurt tryina get home..” 

This time, you can hear the intent behind her words, the intent you couldn’t read yesterday as you turn your head towards the window, to the almost whiteout of Masagoza. You contemplate the offer as you polish off your breakfast, placing the plate on the coffee table before you, watching as Koraidon happily trots up to lick the plate clean with a happy chirp.

“Hmmm…well, if you’re happy to have me…who am I to say no…sir.” you know it’s cheeky, you know it’s going to end badly for you, but watching Rika’s face suddenly go from cool, calm and collected, to beet red is totally worth it before she shoves the last mouthful of her own food into her mouth, slamming the plate onto the table before she grabs you by the collar of your shirt and hauls you up. 

You cackle all the way down the hall as she all but drags you back to the bedroom.

You were in for a long weekend indeed.

[olderthannetfic]

A hanfu isn't just a robe, though. It's a specific type of traditional outfit that has even more specific variations, and while you could describe it more specifically (e.g. she put on her red ruqun, with a pleated horse-face skirt), it isn't always relevant. I've never seen anyone bring this up for, say, kimonos, and I don't think the GOT comparison is fair, either. It'd be more like "he puts on his armour". What type of armour—lamellar, chainmail, heavy, leather? It doesn't always matter. 1/2

--

2/2. Putting down a category of traditional clothing as "meta terminology" also rather irritates me. Again, looking at kimonos. Perhaps it's unfamiliar because CN fashion isn't as widespread as JP, but it's literally just what the broad category of clothing is called, and within the context of danmei fandoms, it shouldn't be unfamiliar knowledge. Trying to Americanize everything by simply calling everything a 'robe' loses the point entirely and is the equivalent of really terrible translation. Sorry, one more thing. When I picture a "robe", I think of wizards. DND. Bathrobes. None of which bear any similarity to a hanfu, and unless you want to describe "a parted robe made of flowing Yun brocade with loose sleeves that wraps around the body, with a wide collar that has its right lapel crossed over its left, tied at the waist with a belt, with a jade pendant weighing down the long skirt" every single time it's brought up, I'm pretty sure "hanfu" is a more accurate descriptor by far.

Uh... anon...

1.

'Robe' is an extremely vague term that absolutely is used for all sorts of garments from all over the world.

The fact that you associate it with a tiny fraction of its conventional meanings isn't going to change how other people use it.

2.

I am indeed more familiar with kimono than hanfu, but I thought the other people did make explicit what their issue is, and it exists for Japan too.

Depending on when your canon is set (or its vague, handwave-y apparent time period for more fantasy canons), the word may not have been in use yet.

'Kimono' as a word is possibly as recent as the 19th Century, though I see one etymological dictionary saying 1630s. Prior to the 19thC, a lot of things we would now call 'kimono' were known as 'kosode'. The further back you go, the more other terms there are and the more the distinctions matter.

I'm personally a fan of fiction set in the Heian period, and they would absolutely not have been calling anything a "kimono" then, nor do the robes look like modern kimono.

Furthermore, a generic-ass word like 'wear on upper body'+'thing' doesn't get its modern interpretation until it has significant competition from Western clothing. Today, it has a relatively narrow range of interpretations based on the calcified form of traditional Japanese clothing that still hangs on.

It's an absurd affectation to insist on calling all ancient Japanese clothing 'kimono'.

That wouldn't be de-Americanizing your writing.

That would be "According to keikaku".

--

From what I've seen in other people's meta posts about Chinese fandoms, the reason people object to 'hanfu' in fic is that this word has gained a lot of popularity in very recent history as part of the hanfu revival movement.

While it existed before that, it wasn't used so consistently, and it mainly turned up in contexts talking about Chinese as opposed to foreign clothing. It doesn't seem to have been a general term used like "So-and-so put on his completely normal outfit to get ready for the day".

People are using it (outside of fic) to talk about a specific range of historically accurate Chinese clothing. It doesn't cover everything, and in the modern and highly gatekept usage, it specifically doesn't cover historically-inspired fantasy costumes like those on The Untamed.

If you're Chinese and you feel it should cover those, fair enough, but that isn't what a lot of the hanfu education blogs have been saying.

People aren't pulling this out of their asses out of a desire to be American. They're getting it from hanfu blogs asking them not to use the word like that.

If you think those blogs are wrong, please say that.

[liskantope]

I think part of the reason I tend to get so argumentative nowadays about "what your side proposes kills people" -type political talking points is that it seems that this is being used more and more frequently as a rhetorical bludgeon, mainly (though not entirely) from the Left. There's a lot of shutting down of arguments based on "but HUMAN LIVES", and it's begun to feel to me like a disturbing trend. For instance, a good bit of the rhetoric in favor of shutting down schools in 2020-2021 seemed to center on "here, look at my computation that the expected value of children's lives lost if we don't shut down schools is greater than zero; anyone who disagrees with us doesn't VALUE HUMAN LIVES", with the effect that a lot of us (including to some extent me) were blinded for a long time to the absolutely devastating effect such extensive school shutdowns (in some geographic areas) had on children and their whole families, an effect that is still scarring them today. I'm not saying anything about whether or how far those school shutdown policies went wrong, just that they had very substantial harmful effects that don't vanish relative to the VALUE OF HUMAN LIVES.

Then there's the now-everyday claim that the anti-trans culture warriors "ARE KILLING US [TRANS PEOPLE]", which is true under a particular interpretation of "killing" and tragically true to an extent pretty well beyond some vanishingly rare extreme cases but is also transparently being used to drown out most other aspects of the debates around trans issues. Much more disturbing still is the accusation I now semi-regularly see casually flung that conservatives "actively want us [trans or LGBT+ people in general] dead" (I think I've occasionally seen left-wing variations on this that aren't even about LGBT+ people). A couple of months ago I called it "stomach-turning" ("it" being both the content of the accusation itself and the fact that so many people in our cultural discourse have seen fit to use it; this of course was semi-willfully misinterpreted by someone as my saying that trans people turn my stomach), and I reiterate now that it's still completely turning my stomach. This example is different from others in some fundamental ways, some of which make me more sympathetic with why people feel driven to use it (and it's not being used to drown out completely unrelated issues, for instance, like the guns thing is), and the general rhetorical weapon of "the other side wants to kill us" deserves its own effortpost which I intend to write later this summer.

So anyway, yeah, I'm also getting a kind of short fuse around insinuations of "what they show kids in school won't kill them, but guns could, so that's the only issue involving schoolchildren that anyone should care about" that I now see daily.

Of course, invocations of "my cause is the one whose stakes directly involve life or death so it outranks everything else" isn't exclusive to the Left at all. The Right has been doing it for decades with abortion to shut down both the abortion debate and whatever unrelated debate they didn't want to have ("millions of babies are being MURDERED each year, while liberals obsess over [women's bodies] [or] [just about any totally unrelated issue which appears frivolous next to MURDER]"). I also vaguely remember something that sounded like this in the post-9/11 years ("we're the ones looking out for Americans who might be KILLED in the next terrorist attack, that has to be the only priority right now"). And there was that bizarre "death panels" accusation around 2010-2011 when Obamacare was being debated which I guess might also count.

Only loosely related, but I'm reminded of a moment in the very first vice presidential debate, between Bob Dole and Walter Mondale in 1976, where Dole invoked a computation of the number of deaths in wars the US engaged in under Democratic versus Republican presidents, and apparently he got a lot of blowback from how underhanded this rhetorical move came across.

[0oolookitsme]

A Day Made Better

Type- Blurb

Verse- Marvel-Actress!Y/n x Marvel-Actor!Harry and Marvel-Actor!Tom Holland

Warnings- None that I can see, but please do tell me if there's any I should put!

Word Count- 912

A/N- I'm slipping back into writing a lot now. Like, I've literally got two more fics saved up and ready to be posted in my drafts and I'm onto working another one. You believe me now? Good. I hope you enjoy reading this <3

Description- Y/n isn't having the best day of her life, Tom can't seem to stop falling and Harry is just too good at making people happy with his little jokes.

It'll be a lie if they were to say that they 'didn't even try' to keep Harry from joining the duo of Tom and Y/n.

Cause they did, they really did try their best. Alas, sweat broke on their foreheads as they lost the unconfirmed battle. But that doesn't mean they are at peace now, oh that's such a no. Perhaps that's why they were gatekeeping Harry, to save them from any greater number of chaotic plans plotted against them.

Every morning, Harry is the first to arrive at the set. Followed by eating-something-Y/n and then a disheveled Tom. And everyone loves their presence but somedays they want nothing more than to tie the three up and throw them in some random deep pit.

Today, majority of the marvel actors are on the set because of some random interview filming which apparently required to them to be on the set. This made the lot who wasn't in the camera view feel annoyed- not sure with the interviewers or with the ones who are being interviewed.

Whatever the option, Y/n is most definitely annoyed with both.

She's been asked to come on set at 5am in the morning, since the last two weeks. Well, everyone has been. But today wasn't like just any other days, no. She had gotten her periods last night, which she blames to make her cry last night. In the morning when she woke up, she was met with her unpleasantly puffed-up eyes, causing her to cry almost again especially when her hair wouldn't get in a proper braid.

At the end, she washed her face with cold once again, looked away from the mirror and threw her hair in a hand curated bun. And, as expected, it looked better than anything.

Then when she arrives on set, she sees Tom on the ground looking like an embarrassed five-year-old, and Harry who's standing right behind him, clutching his stomach and laughing his lungs out while providing his friend with his arm for support.

That did turn the corner of her lips up a tad bit. But when she was told how there wasn't going to be any shooting done today because of interview she and the other two are not a part of, she felt like ripping her hair off her scalp.

She had asked if they could go back then, but the answer she received might be the reason she's sitting in a corner as she registers the fact that this day was going to go down the sink of moodiness.

"Let me tell you a joke," Harry came to sit down beside her, his thigh touching with hers and y/n's not sure if it's because his love language is physical touch or just an unintentional thing. Either thought makes her smile a little. "But you'd have to participate in this one- just once!"

"So, a papa tomato, a mummy tomato and a baby tomato were walking down the street. The baby tomato was walking too slow and got a little behind the parent tomatoes. That made papa tomato mad, and he squished the baby tomato, telling him to: 'ketchup!'" Harry shrieked at the last word and started giggling himself before fixing his eyes on y/n's mouth to see if it made her smile even.

It's like she's laughing, but she doesn't want to laugh- like she wanted to remain sad. Which makes Harry bump his shoulder with hers and laugh along.

Y/n feels something brush on her back before the third musketeer's voice follows. "What's so funny, eh?" He asks as he tries his best to sit down in his kinda tight skinny jeans. "Tell me too, my day hasn't been very heartful either. It's been rather hurtful," he continues himself, squeezing out an unexpected laugh by the other two.

"He's been falling on his ass all morning long," Harry tells y/n as he calms down, still giggling every once in a minute. Though when he sees y/n frown in amusement, he goes on full tryna-convince-her mode. "Like literally!"

"I've fallen what, three times? And what did you do about it, other than wheezing huh?" Tom defends himself from the other side.

"What else could you expect me to do? Massage your arse??"

This snatched a wheeze from y/n's lungs as her body shrinks down. Clutching her stomach, she rises back up and starts to clap while still laughing hysterically.

"Shut up," Tom mumbles, the tops of his cheeks reddening as if someone pinched them.

Harry sputters out laughs as y/n and Tom tell him more about the pranks they have pulled on the rest of the cast members before. But none of them pulls a laugh as loud as the can toppled over Tom's head does.

"Should I throw the other two too, or are you guys coming here to get them?" Sebastian shouts from quite afar with two more cans in his hands.

"No wait! We're coming!" Y/n manages to string the words together in the middle of another wheel of laughter, all while Harry helps her up and Tom cusses out Sebastian.

With the cans finally in their hands, they come back to sit back at their spots. The time followed by goes like that, Y/n spilling her drink as she opens her can, Tom almost slipping over the same drink as he stands up to enact a scene from his favourite movie he was describing and Harry throwing lame jokes here and there.

Tagging- @onecrazydirectioner @tatehuxley222 (you both requested for a part 2 :)) | @marvel1dhp @eloquentree (you both asked to be tagged in all the works <3)

Feel free to reply under any of my original posts or send in an ask requesting to be added in the tag list <3

[halfagone]

Hi Halfa! What's 3 DC fics you'd think would be interesting to include DP characters/tropes into?

And what's 3 DP fics do you think'd be interesting to include DC characters/tropes into?

(This isn't a ploy to fish fic recs, psshhhhhhh, noooooooooo)

Hello Anon! :D Don't take this the wrong way but I am giddy with excitement right now because I've been talking about this with friends and I am just squealing now that I get to ramble about it.

Now just to clarify, I'll probably use tropes more so than specific fics, because for one, I don't want to step on any author's toes. And two, I like those fics as they are and do not want to dirty them with my grubby hands. However! I can still give fic recs so you can get an idea of the kind of AU I'm talking about here. lol Not that you're fishing for them ofc, no not at all

(Added a Read More because apparently I have a lot of fic recs. :D Total: 17 (if I mathed right, that is))

DC Fics, Now With a Splash of ectoplasm DP

Stray Tim AU

He's technically also known as Catlad, but like- I prefer Stray (as if that isn't obvious by my Stray!Danny AU XD), but that's neither here nor there. In this AU, if the name didn't explain enough, he apprentices underneath Selina as her apprentice. Depending on the author's choice, it's either as a young child or after he leaves the Batfamily for one reason or another.

An example of this AU: timcat by drakefeathers. This fic actually got recommended to me earlier today (you know who you are) and it is so cute. He is so baby and I love him.

2. Reverse Robins AU

Now this is an AU I've talked about frequently, but for good reason. There are so many ways you can write this idea- Hell, can you imagine a Demon Twins AU with Reverse Robins- Hold on a sec, let me add a WIP to my spreadsheet...

Okay, back. Anyways, where was I? Oh right, REVERSE ROBINS! In this AU, Damian is actually the oldest Batkid, and Dick is the youngest. Depending on the AU, Dick can even be an ex-Talon, so just keep that in mind~ Almost unanimously, Tim is the Batkid that died instead of Jason, and becomes the Red Hood (sometimes he was Joker Junior in this AU as well which is... uh. If you look into those fics, make sure you read the tags religiously.)

An example for this AU: and oh, my heart (how can i face you now?) by weareallstardustfallen. And this fic is *chef's kiss* It's in Damian's POV, it's a gloriously long one-shot. I cannot recommend this enough.

3. Jason Todd Goes Home

There are multiple interpretations you can do with this AU. Sometimes he doesn't become Red Hood, sometimes he doesn't get dipped in the Lazarus Pit, it all really depends on what you want to do with it. I've technically written a fic with this idea, where Danny actually finds Jason and helps him claw out of his grave, subsequently returning him home. That fic is what was lost, found again. Five chapters, completed.

There are fics where Tim actually finds Jason first! Here's one called best laid plans by Valkirin. Highly recommend. Tim finds Jason first but then the League of Assassins find them too. >:3

On a different, yet similar note, we have a fic where Talia is actually a decent person and brings Jason back??? After dunking him in a Pit??? You love to see it. This one is Verdant by Cerusee.

DP Fics Now With DC Packing

Field Trip to the Ghost Zone

There are a decent number of these fics out there if you know where to find them. I feel like this one is self-explanatory, but basically- Danny's class takes either a planned or impromptu trip to the Ghost Zone. Very rarely does his secret identity survive the fallout. Now imagine if we put Damian's class on the school bus.

Some Gothamite kid, probably: "I don't remember The Magic School Bus going like this."

Marsalias' (in)famous Mortified is definitely one of them up there. They actually wrote a second field trip fic not long after completing Mortified, which is called School Bus in the Ghost Zone. So if you're in the process of reading Mortified, or maybe you can't commit to a long-form fic right now, this one might be for you.

Deathcomes4u also has two field trip fics you can read. One of them was for this year's Phic Phight called The Gloves Are Off. He-larious fic, cannot get enough of it. Also includes some very fun DP headcanons! The second is called The Trip. You're gonna want to read the tags before you explore this one, but what's up so far a very thrilling read.

There is also Stranded With My Class, but this one is on FF.net so you might want to turn on ALL your adblockers before you venture into that site.

2. Death Day :3

I've written a chapter about this in lex luthor's ascent but it's part of a larger plot so I hope no one feels pressured to read it. But in general this fic idea can be very heavy, BE CAREFUL if you explore it. You can have DC characters react to Danny's death day, you can give Jason or Damian or Cass- or pretty much any resurrected DC character you like- a death day. Spread the whump and angst, that's how we show our love.

Here is an example, also from Deathcomes4u: Anniversary. I really enjoy how this author writes the background characters as well. It's got a splash of humor and the Everlasting Trio makes me all soft. :')

Death Day Evolution by gamma_radio has some great worldbuilding and lore added to the concept. I love how they tied Danny gets new powers in this fic, and you gotta love the Cryptid Danny Fenton energy. XD

3. Partial Identity Reveals

Now this one is more self-indulgent for me, but I'm allowed to do that. XD I would've put simply Cryptid Danny, but it encompasses a little more than that in most cases, which is why I kept this title for it instead.

These are fics where Danny is revealed or shown to be Off™ somewhat, but in most cases they don't know the full extent of his secret identity. Most of the time it's just his powers or that he's not fully human, what have you. I love a good bombastic identity reveal, you know, but something about the subtler ones are more inspirational, if you will. lol

I think this is the type of AU that would suit a Batman detective story much more, and allows the DC characters more time and interaction into this new world- if you will- rather than throwing them straight in it. Does that make sense? I hope that makes sense.

Shots Fired by RedGhost1010 is an exceptional fic (I believe this author is also the person who writes Stranded with My Class, mentioned earlier, just uses a different pen name on Ao3). However, please read the tags for it before you do. This fic can be triggering for some people. They also write what is probably my favorite Bad Parent Jack and Maddie fic, which is called Humans and Ghosts. Another one you probably should read the tags for. But please check out their other fics; I enjoy so many of them, but unfortunately not all of them fit this fic rec description. :\

Finally we have It's Like Time Stops by anthrop. I cannot tell you how many times I reread this fic way back when. It's a very tasty Outsider POV fic that gives a view into how things changed after the Accident, and it's a good study into how his classmates would have perceived it.

Whooo... that's a lot of fic recs. I hope you got some new things to read out of it at least! Have some fun, but make sure to take care of yourself and avoid the fics that just aren't for you. No one will blame you for it. <3

[emimayooo]

Emi in Japan (2024) – June 7th to June 9th

(Link to previous entry.)

Hey guys,

I've had such a fun few days! Days full of good food, nature, and animals. I can't wait to tell you all about it.

But first, here are the highlights:

I posted a new galeheart fic! It's a fairy tale au I wrote for the galeheart first times event way back in late April, but I finally posted it. It has, predictably, ballooned into a multichap lol but I'm happy with the result :)

My mum and I discovered a local café that's only opened on the weekends. We loved it so much we went both days!

Goats, cats, and even more cats, oh my! Went to an agritourism farm and an open shelter cat rescue. Very fun. Very stinky.

Anyway! Onto the details:

June 7th

June 7th was pretty chill! My mum and I went shopping in the morning. I bought a very handy dandy bag where I can store my wallet, pocket wifi and phone in, that straps around my body. Super convenient for going out with just my necessities.

Here’s a photo of me and the bag, on another day! I just love it.

Afterwards, we went to a sushi train place. Each plate of sushi cost around 100 yen. How cheap is that?!

When we got home, I think we just napped lol. I dedicated my evening to writing, which went well! I was so nervous to post fic since it had been a while, but then I got such lovely comments! I’m glad I pushed through my doubt and just posted the damn thing :)

June 8th

In the morning, my mum and I went to this local cafe that only opens on the weekends. The walk over was so refreshing, with the weather being just perfect. We walked past farms, old Japanese houses, the river my mum nearly drowned in when she was four before my grandma pulled her to safety lol, and finally, we arrived at the cafe.

We took our seat on the porch. I’m so glad we did: we were right in front of the flower garden where we could watch the little butterflies and bees do their job. It was so relaxing. I must read here sometime.

Mum ordered the soup set, which came with veges and onigiri, as well as a cup of coffee. I had the waffle set with the ice cream and red bean. For my drink I had the best iced tea I’ve ever had in my life, oh my goodness it was so good! Apparently, this cafe specialises in herbal teas. I’ve got to try it some of these days, if even their iced tea was this good! Anyway, here are some pics of the cafe:

On our walk home, we passed the local agritourism farm and decided to go in. Since it was Saturday, there were so many tourists from Tokyo. It’s quite popular among families. It’s kinda like if you as the farmer of SDV were real lol because it’s SUCH a money-maker for our town here. And the rest of us are just NPCs lol🧍

While there, I fed a scary ass goat some carrots and had a grape-vanilla mixed ice cream.

And that concludes Saturday!

June 9th

Sunday (today) was such a blast too. In the morning, we took I-san (crazy old cat lady ((affectionate)) from older entries) to the cafe we went the day before. As ever, she talked our ears off and we learned a lot about the neighbours lmao. But also, she came all dressed up with her make up done, which was adorable🥰❤️. I’m so glad she enjoyed it.

When we dropped her off, she forced me to accept 5000 yen from her (50 AUD)😭😭😭!!! You might be like “emi you could’ve just said no” BUT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!!! When old Asian grannies give you money you must accept it there’s no escaping their determination😭😭😭

Now I gotta think of a way to repay her, non-monetarily. I’m actually quite decent at drawing realistic portraits (especially old people for some reason lol) so maybe I’ll draw her or her late cat as a present. We shall see!

Also, we made plans for her to dress me in her kimono on Tuesday. I’m very excited!

After breakfast, we headed off to visit an open shelter/cat rescue. I’ve been here before and I was very excited to go again. There’s around 100 cats, spread across three floors (with sealed off balconies), and there are soooo many affectionate cats omg. So many will just flop onto your lap and chill there for like twenty minutes it’s great. I fell in love with so many cuties today…but none of them fell in love with me back lol they all wanted my mum instead aha😭💔

So yeah. There’s no pictures of me with the cats because they were all over my mum so I became designated photographer🤡

But in the end, I did get to pat many cutie kitties, so I still had an adorable time🥰❤️

For lunch, we ate at the neighbouring restaurant, that was cat-themed. I had the nyangherita pizza lol while my mum had a warabi-katsu set.

The pizza was disappointingly average, but my mum liked her food. So all around wins for her today😂 (though, a cat did pee on her bag, so…)

And that was my past few days! I can’t believe I’ve been here close to three weeks now. Time just flies, doesn’t it? Next Saturday, I’ll be off to Osaka. I’ll be sad to say goodbye to my grandpa’s hometown, but I’ll be back at the end of June anyway, before I return to Australia…where I’ll then reunite with my own cats, Apple Pie and Leon🥹💖

Thanks for reading my journal! See you next time.

With love,

Emi xoxo