#anyways just... so many unanswered questions!

[everwhovian]

imagine Jun-ho and In-ho getting into an argument. Jun-ho is a young teen and causes trouble or something? Just like In-ho having to deal with a teenager

In-ho gets a text from Jun-ho in the middle of the night. To pick him up from a party. And In-ho is seething cause the surgery wasn't that long ago...

Also, does this still count as kid!Jun-ho shenanigans?

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ○△□ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

The clock above the filing cabinet ticked past 12:47 a.m.

The precinct was quiet. Just the low hum of fluorescent lights and the distant shuffle of someone filing reports down the hall. Most of the desks were empty. This hour belonged to men who didn’t know how to rest. Or didn’t want to.

In-ho sat hunched over his desk, nursing a cup of lukewarm coffee that had gone bitter long ago. A stack of cold case files lay spread out in front of him, half-open, half-forgotten.

He wasn’t really reading – just skimming headlines, hoping something buried would jump out. He told himself it was for work, that he was chasing loose threads, but the truth was simpler than that.

He should’ve gone home hours ago.

But something about these cases – it struck a nerve. Too many names left in silence. Too many unanswered questions. It pressed against his ribs like a weight, like if he blinked, one more person might slip through the cracks.

So he stayed. Some part of him always did.

He rubbed the back of his neck, where a familiar ache had settled in – hours spent hunched over the desk catching up to him.

Then his phone buzzed.

He froze.

Almost 1 a.m.

Jun-ho never texted this late. Not unless something was wrong.

He snatched the phone, pulse spiking.

[Jun-ho] – Hyung… can you come get me?

No explanation. No follow-up. Just that.

Something cold and sharp uncoiled in his gut.

He was up before he realized it, chair scraping hard against the floor. Papers scattered. Coffee spilled. He didn’t stop. He was already pulling on his coat with one hand and typing a reply with the other.

[In-ho] – On my way. Stay put.

He was out the door within two minutes, already starting the engine as he swung into the driver’s seat. The streetlights blurred past. He didn’t bother with the radio.

His thoughts raced ahead.

What happened? Did he collapse? Did the transplant fail? Did he forget his meds?

No. Don’t go there.

He clenched the wheel tighter, knuckles whitening. He didn’t pray, not really, but he whispered anyway: Let him be okay.

 

Jun-ho was standing alone under the pale yellow glow of a flickering streetlamp. Hoodie pulled up. Shoulders drawn in like he was trying to disappear.

His head lifted slightly as the car approached, and even through the windshield, In-ho could see it: the guilt in his face.

The kind of expression that said, I know I fucked up, but I didn’t know where else to go.

In-ho barely had the car in park when Jun-ho opened the door and slipped inside, moving quietly like he might break something.

The door shut with a soft thunk.

“Seatbelt,” In-ho muttered, voice low, tight, barely holding together.

Jun-ho clicked it into place.

In-ho didn’t look at him. He couldn’t. Not yet.

The engine idled. The rain pattered against the roof. A red traffic light reflected off the windshield like blood in water.

He could feel Jun-ho beside him – small, despite being nearly seventeen now. All sharp elbows and quiet tension, curled into the passenger seat like a kid waiting for the fallout.

In-ho didn’t look at him when he spoke. “You text me at one in the morning to pick you up from a party?”

His voice came out flat, but underneath it was a current of fear that had settled in his gut and refused to leave.

Jun-ho flinched at the tone. “I didn’t drink,” he said quickly. “I just… I didn’t know what else to do.”

In-ho’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. He could still see the scar on Jun-ho’s abdomen when he closed his eyes – angry and red, stapled into his skin like a cruel reminder of how close In-ho had come to losing him.

“You weren’t even supposed to be out,” he said, sharper now. “You’re still healing.”

Jun-ho opened his mouth, trying to explain, but In-ho cut him off.

“You’re on immunosuppressants, Jun-ho. Do you even know how dangerous it is to be around alcohol? Around drugs? You could’ve –”

“I didn’t know it would be like that!” Jun-ho’s voice rose. “I thought it was just people from school. I didn’t know someone would bring shit.”

“You shouldn’t have been there to begin with!” In-ho snapped.

Jun-ho turned toward him, jaw tight. “You can’t keep holding the transplant over my head every time I try to live.”

That stopped In-ho cold.

His grip on the wheel relaxed – then clenched again.

His throat felt like it had closed. His mind raced with images: Jun-ho lying pale in that hospital bed, wires everywhere, skin stretched too thin. The beep of a monitor. The moment he signed the donor consent. The moment Jun-ho blinked up at him afterward, so groggy, so small, whispering, ‘You’re still here?’

“I almost lost you,” In-ho said, his voice ragged. “I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty, Jun-ho. But I gave you my kidney because all I wanted was for you to live.”

In-ho pulled the car to the side of the road, shifted into park, and turned to look at Jun-ho – really look at him, not just with worry, but with everything he’d been holding back.

“You think I’m going to be calm when I get a text from you in the middle of the night, alone, at some party full of god-knows-what?”

In-ho ran a hand down his face, dragging it over the stubble on his jaw like he could rub the fear away. His next words came out softer. “I won't lose you again, okay? Not because you didn’t know better.”

Jun-ho was quiet now. He looked down at his lap, hands buried in the sleeves of his hoodie. His voice, when it came, was barely audible.

“I do know better,” he said. “That’s why I texted you.”

In-ho kept his eyes on him – really seeing him now, not just checking for injuries or symptoms, but seeing the kid who still wanted to do right.

Jun-ho looked so small again. Not just young, but fragile in a way he hated being seen. Wet eyelashes. Pale skin. Embarrassed and ashamed and trying not to show either.

“I saw the bottles,” Jun-ho continued. “Someone had pills. I didn’t even wait for things to get worse. I left. I didn’t say goodbye. I just – I just texted you.”

In-ho stared at him. A long, slow breath escaped his chest, and with it, the anger began to ebb. Not disappear – but it softened under the weight of something heavier: relief.

“You did the right thing,” he said quietly. “You backed out. You trusted me to come get you.”

Jun-ho didn’t respond.

In-ho reached over and placed a hand on the back of his neck, warm and solid. He felt Jun-ho lean into it slightly. Like he had when he was small. Like some part of him still needed to be told it was going to be okay.

Jun-ho was quiet for a long moment, staring at the rain slipping down the window. Then, voice barely above a whisper, he asked, “Are you… still mad?”

In-ho sighed. The kind that came from somewhere deep – exhaustion, relief, lingering fear all tangled together.

“I’m not mad,” he said, and he meant it now. The sharp edges of his anger had dulled, leaving something heavier behind. “I’m… disappointed. You scared the hell out of me. But I mean it – you did good.”

He paused, glancing over at Jun-ho again, softer this time. “You did the right thing in the end. That’s what matters, okay?”

Jun-ho’s breath caught.

“You can always call me,” In-ho added.“Even if it’s late. Even if I’m pissed off. Even if I yell. You call. I will come get you. Every damn time.”

“…Okay,” Jun-ho whispered.

In-ho gave his hair a small ruffle, a familiar gesture. Jun-ho didn’t shrug it off.

With a quiet breath, In-ho turned back to the wheel and started the car again. The engine hummed to life, headlights cutting through the rain as he pulled away from the curb.

They didn’t speak as the city passed by outside the windows – neon signs reflected in puddles, taxi lights weaving through the mist. The silence between them wasn’t tense anymore. Just tired. Settled.

As they neared the turn for their mother’s neighborhood, In-ho tapped the signal – and then didn’t take it.

Jun-ho glanced over, brow furrowing. “Aren’t we –?”

“You’re crashing at our place tonight,” In-ho said, eyes still on the road. “No point waking Eomma up.”

Jun-ho hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”

In-ho didn’t add that he didn’t want to let him out of his sight just yet. He didn’t need to. Jun-ho seemed to understand anyway.

[molkolsdal]

thinking about the identity crisis i went though as a kid cuz my parents had told me very simply that my mom was pashtun and my dad was punjabi and they were both from peshawar and that was that. understandably they had simplified it so much for me cuz i was a kid, but whenever other brown people asked where i was from or "what are you" and i mentioned punjabi and they'd be like oh wow where? lahore? and i'd just be like nope lol peshawar and they would press me about how my dad could be punjabi if he was from peshawar and i just didn't have an answer. when i got a little older, i started saying well borders are manmade, you don't necessarily have to be from one ethnicity cuz you're from a certain area (and i was right! i just didn't know at the time why i was right).

as i got older and i found out more about our family background, it all made more sense to me as i came to know that the punjabi side of us was allegedly from a great-great-great grandfather from gurdaspur who had moved to bannu way back when. but as my interest in linguistics and anthropology and history grew, i realized that my old explanation of "borders are manmade" was true anyway!!! prime examples being speakers of Hindko and Derawali, as well as the Hazarewal community in general. anyways, i could go on about this, but it's all just so endlessly fascinating that i wouldn't know where to stop so i'll stop now.

[fictionadventurer]

A Biltmore Christmas may be the first Hallmark movie to drive me to fanfic.

[unopenablebox]

i'm going to be honest i do sometimes nowadays find myself explaining to 22-year-olds why i think it's probably not ideal to use an AI summary podcast of a paper as a substitute for reading the paper

this is majestically cringe but i do try to limit myself to only doing it to people who have already applied to grad school and are deliberately trying to have the "critically reading the actual contents of the literature" job. i also think it's bad if an 18-year-old does it and never learns whether they could be good at reading papers but i don't think i have a good argument for them on why i have a meaningful perspective on its benefits that they should consider placing over their own prioritization of their time

[hyperfixation-tangentopia]

CHAOS THEORY SEASON 3 BABYYYYY

Probably spoilers in tags

[microwaving-tesilid-argente]

staring at ash and wondering what on earth his role in the story is

[amberstruck]

welcome to my blog!

important note: many of my followers were attracted to my account from my harry potter artwork, so I would just like to mention that I will no longer be creating art related to harry potter or its associated fandoms because of jk rowling’s anti-trans beliefs

I have never supported her views, however I now feel (after discussing with some of my amazing instagram followers) that even engaging in the fandom without supporting her financially is still bringing attention to the franchise, and therefore not something I want to do

all my current work will still remain posted but I won’t be creating anything new for that fandom, sorry to disappoint anyone! we have to put our trans friends first 🏳️‍⚧️

anyways!

hello! 👋 my name is amber, and I’m a multifandom fanartist!

my asks are always open, so feel free to ask questions, rec fics and make art requests (although sometimes I can be a bit slow to answer, so sorry about that 🙁)

commissions are currently closed but it will be updated here if they open up!

FAQ

• are edits, pfps and headers featuring your art ok?

all of these are totally fine! I’d prefer to be credited but it doesn’t matter that much (also if you do make edits with my art pleeeeaaaassee tag me I’d love to see)

• are you ok with reposts of your artwork on other platforms?

reposts are fine, and I’ve already seen some on pinterest so I think it’s basically unavoidable HOWEVER! you must credit me

do not repost my work without visible credit in the caption, and do not crop out my watermark (if there is one)

• can people make art/write fics using the designs/concepts from your AU?

I’ve already answered an ask about this but I’ll put it here as well, fics and art using my AUs/designs are great! I would love to see them so if you could tag me as well that would be awesome

• will you continue the chocobo AU?

yes it will be continued eventually, I’m just a bit slow lol

if you would like to read the current parts of the AU, all the info for it is stored down here 👇

Chocobo AU

official designs comic part 1 creature designs comic part 2

the tag for any related asks about the AU is below! if you have any questions I would have a peep at them because quite a few have already been answered! but any unanswered questions are welcomed ☝️

Other Socials:

tiktok instagram

[yasministration]

Big, strong James Potter

Summary: James Potter is just a big softie with a praise kink and a girlfriend who feeds it, especially during sex. Warning: Smut, praise kink, use of 'good boy' 1.15k wc

To the general public of Hogwarts, James was a completely different person than who he was in private. Big, strong James Potter was not only a confident athlete but a jokester who was loved by many, constantly cracking jokes, but making sure people were always comfortable. He was observant, could tell when someone's mood was off - the mother of the friend group to his mates. However, the second he was in the safe space of the Gryffindor common room, whether any of his friends were around or not, he was crumbling into your arms, ready to accept any love and comfort you had to offer him.

It was common for the marauders to see you and James cuddled up, his arms around your waist, head snuggled in your chest while your arms wrapped around his back, a hand nestling in his hair. Quiet mumbles of 'I love you's and words of praise had the others cracking jokes, or looking away from the intimate moment depending on James's mood. Sometimes they didn't have to though, as you'd be dragged upstairs by your boyfriend, having said something he might have liked too much.

James's praise kink was never exactly a secret to you, especially since you constantly drowned him in compliments anyway. However, over time, you'd discovered that the more you praised him, the more needy he'd get in bed, his orgasm chasing him the second sweet words were uttered from your mouth. That's how you often ended up straddling his hips, pressing soft kisses all over his naked chest with him half hard underneath you, staring at you lovingly through the dirty glass of his spectacles. He didn't mean to get turned on, treasuring the loving moment as you whispered "You're so pretty Jamie." He couldn't help the slight bucking movement his hips made, or how the whimper you let out, your pussy throbbing, only made him harden underneath you.

You felt your cheeks heat up, a small smile etching onto your face. Digging your head in the crook of your boyfriend's neck, you continued pressing shy kisses there, hiding away from his intense stare. "You like it when I call you pretty?" You mumbled, both your hands stopping at James's biceps to squeeze lightly, soaking up the feeling of his muscles contracting under your grip. Curiously, you looked up at your boyfriend, question gone unanswered, your smile turning into a wide grin. James's entire face had gone a dark shade of pink, the bottom of his glasses fogging up from the heat radiating off his face.

"Who knew big, strong James Potter was such a sucker for a compliment from his girlfriend?" Your hands moved from his arms, trailing up to meet the soft skin of his chest. "Or does everyone have this effect on you Jamie?" You pushed, watching as he quickly shook his head, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. "No- no, just you baby." He insisted, watching as you readjusted the glasses on his nose. "Good boy." You whispered proudly, putting more pressure down on your boyfriend's hips. A loud whine escaped James's lips, his hips bucking up into yours, large hands significantly tightening on your hips. "Please." He begged quietly, fingers playing with the hem of your skirt.

Obediently, you moved off your boyfriend to kick your skirt and panties down your legs before mounting him again, helping him pull his previously unbuttoned trousers down his legs. James patiently waited for you to tug his boxers down, hands fidgeting by his sides as you shuffled forward, taking his sensitive cock in your hands. You stroked him gently, whispering "You okay?" James nodded quickly, but you shook your head. "Words baby." "Yes! Please, please y/n put it in." His begging turned into a loud moan as you sunk down on his cock, furrowing your eyebrows slightly at the lack of preparation for his thick girth. You bounced lightly, getting yourself accustomed to James's size before you begin dragging yourself up his cock, then dropping your weight back on him.

Both your moans were loud, James's hands sure to leave marks from where they grip your hips. Yours were occupied in his hair, tugging gently at his curls, chest pressed up against his. Shutting your eyes tightly, you dug your head into the crook of his neck again as James pressed kisses wherever he could reach on your jaw. His hands trailed down to your ass, helping your languid movements. The veins in his forearms became more prominent as he helped support your weight, your movements slowing the more pleasure you got. "Fuck, you're so strong Jamie." You moaned, dragging your head back up as your boyfriend started thrusting his hips up into you to match your movements, encouraged by your words. "Knew those gorgeous muscles weren't just for show."

Moaning loudly, James threw his head back, thrusting deeply into you and pulling your hips down against his tightly. Leaning down, you sucked on his exposed neck, teeth grazing against the sweaty skin as James's hips uncontrollably twitched, his warm load shooting up into you. Panting loudly, James began thrusting up into you again, fingers finding your clit to put pressure on, causing you to whine against the skin of his neck. "I didn't-didn't mean to cum." James breathed out, trying to make it up to you. "Fuck, it's okay Jamie. Still my, still my good boy." You replied with a moan as he thrusted particularly deeply, repeatedly hitting that spongy spot inside you. Your mind went blank and for a moment you could only see white as you screamed James's name, painted nails digging into his hot skin as you arched your back, chest pushing itself in his face.

James took the chance, leaning down to catch a nipple in his mouth and running his tongue over it as you came down from your orgasm. You slumped against James, tugging his hair for him to look up before locking your lips with his in a messy, tongue-filled kiss. Your hands cupped his jaw as he wrapped his arms around your waist, rolling over with you in his arms so he ended up on top of you. He pulled away from the kiss, saliva connecting your lips, and you grinned at the image above you. A red-faced James was hanging over you, his glasses barely holding onto his ears, swinging inches away from his face. His chest was heaving with every breath he took, and the chain he wore around his neck with your initial was dangling down his neck, grazing your chest.

"Call me that again." He begged, slumping down to put all his weight on you. You giggled breathlessly, hugging your boyfriend closer to you. "What, Jamie or good boy?" The groan at the sound of 'good boy' told you all you needed to know, but you have to say the feeling of his dick getting harder whilst inside you was the real telltale.

[iceunhie]

[ 3 + 1 ].

premise. in which entails your daily life being in a relationship with the one and only eccentric wanderer. (alternatively: wanderer's love for you comes in many forms. you welcome them all the same.)

warnings: established relationship, hurt-comfort, slice of life, wanderer is called kuni. jealousy (wanderer), angst. FLUFF fluff fluff. wanhida family goals

a/n: ITS SCARAMOUCHE WANDERER SEASON his event broke me btw [in tears]

BACK TO MASTERLIST || ASKBOX !

# observation one: unconventionally clingy

early on in your relationship, this side of the wanderer remains quite privy to himself alone. this is because he has a very, very uncanny similarity to an aggressive and guarded cat that hisses when given an ounce of affection.

this does not mean he doesn't like your outlandish and grand displays of affection, though; its actually the opposite. (LOL)

the true crux of the matter lies in his inability to let down his guarded pride to admit that he thinks your affection is his lifeblood. (basically, “ew, affection... do it again”)

he's a menace (affectionate), and if you were one for critiquing that aspect of his character, you wouldn't have been in a relationship with him by now, anyway.

however—there is always a however when it comes to him—this does not mean that wanderer doesn't come across points of anxiousness over the fact that his less than affable personality may be something you will grow sick of one day.

he knows he isn't the best choice of a romantic partner; seriously, what were you even thinking... but when he establishes that you are indeed now an irreplaceable part of his life (which will take a long time, good luck), he clings to you with a fierce desperation underneath all that thorn and bristle.

this is part of his visceral fear of abandonment—you are the one thing that he adores, cares for with his entire being (nahida as a close second), and to watch you slip away from him due to his own misgivings will spell out a death sentence for him.

(so please, treat him gently; cradle his cracked palms and broken psyche, and slowly, emphasis on slowly, but surely, he will learn to return in kind.)

this ‘clinginess’ comes forth in his proximity to you. once he has felt comfortable with your relationship, wanderer is quite unafraid to show how touchy he is in his own way.

whether that is to get groceries in your shared home, following after you like a second shadow when you go to the grand bazaar, or even shooing away people that harass you (tba), the wanderer's gaze and all his efforts are always directed to your will.

(you dubbed this as ‘scary cat boyfriend privilege’—and are rewarded with a painful flick to the forehead. ouch.)

—☆★☆—

“where are you going?” the slender hand that stops you from leaving your comfy bed does little to help your need to fall back into the blissful arms of sleep.

“just going to go get some water, kuni.”

waking up to the sight of the wanderer in all his divine glory certainly isn't one of the things you expected in your life, but you welcome it all the same. leaving a simple kiss to his forehead, you pry your hand away with a gentleness you reserve only for him.

he flushes, a lovely red adorning cheeks, to the span of his neck. oh, how you love seeing him melt.

“you won't take too long?”

he doesn't need to breathe, but he sucks in a breath anyway, face twisting to a deep set frown—your telltale sign that your kunikuzushi had a nightmare.

an unanswered question. you won't leave?

your hand caresses the silky soft strands of his purple hair, that in which wanderer nuzzles into. he doesn't seem keen on telling you, and you respect that. you'd wait for him as long as he'd like.

“of course i will. not going anywhere, silly.”

why would i? you convey in that same gesture. i love you.

the tightness of his face relaxes, his grip on your hand loosening. right—you weren't. (you were not going to abandon him.)

“hurry up and come back, then. it's far too early.” his voice is still thick with sleep, though that doesn't temper his signature sass at all.

i love you too. goes unsaid.

your grin sharpens, teasing. “aww, don't miss me too much, okay?”

anddd there's the signature scowl. “...never mind, don't come back.”

“hey!”

shuffling to hide his face from you, wanderer sports a genuine smile, hidden from your sight.

because in your presence, the wanderer stills, and all thoughts of a doomed eternity fall short of how he commits himself to you—wanderer loves and loves, loves you, for you nestle in the space his heart was meant to be, holding onto the mere wisps of your identity and weaving it into the mosaic of his soul.

it's silent save for when you plop yourself back to the bed, bearhugging wanderer and complaining about waking up early again because you stayed up all night playing tcg with him. (he's at 10 wins and 5 losses and he was not going to be caught lacking).

“you do realize that's entirely your fault, right?” he gloats. “it's not my fault my card bested that lawachurl of yours.”

“what?! no way, mister! my all geo team is still superior, mind you-”

once, wanderer wondered about the concept of infinity.

everlasting devotion. of unabashed care and trust. as he listens to your ramblings as the night falls to day, he figures that what you currently share fits that concept just fine.

# observation two: (very) jealous tendencies

it isn't in wanderer's intention to be jealous. well, so he says.

really, he isn't! after all, what was there to be jealous of? absurd! looks, intellect, an extensive range of vocabulary not limited to insults and creative verbal attacks; wanderer boasts quite the sizable number of pros that get most people falling at his feet. (his outward personality leaves much to be desired, however, but his snark does have a certain charm. probably).

and of all the bashful akademiya seniors and well-intentioned young women (and men), you managed to get into a relationship with this black cat of a derisive puppet. this is an achievement worthy of celebration, for not just anyone can take the wanderer and burrow into his many, many guarded walls and claim the title of being his lover.

yet, wanderer is the more jealous one in the relationship.

he knows that you won't cheat on him, and trusts that you won't look at others in such a way. but still, your boyfriend can't help but doubt. be patient when working out his jealousy, for it is a double edged sword—on one hand, wanderer was so adorable when he was jealous; sulky, clingy, hot you name it! and it was very flattering, knowing that he loved you enough to want to keep you all to himself.

but, the other side was quite... a piece of work. should you attempt to tease him about such a thing, it ends in three ways. one, him flying off to god knows where and leaving you alone (😐), two, restricting you from hugging and giving him affection (😭), and worse, giving you the silent treatment (😨). choose your ammunition wisely.

and from this, be prepared for the wanderer to monopolize your attention all to himself— with said admirers mysteriously off the grid or too afraid to approach you for fear of his wrath. i'll say it once: a jealous wanderer is a force to be reckoned with. (and we love him for it)

(he was chided endlessly by nahida for this; “you're scaring all the researchers that want to do a thesis review with [name]!” she says.

a sly smirk was his only reply).

—☆★☆—

“what, and here i thought he had more bark left in him.” wanderer huffs haughtily, with the researcher dashing away as if his life depended on it.

“you'll get scolded by nahida again, you know. i don't think the dendro archon's trusted aide should boast a terrifying reputation.”

he snorts. “lesser lord kusanali has better things to do than chide me for harassment.”

“but you don't have better things to do than scaring away poor kimiya?”

that gets you an eye roll that could reach massive highs of ‘what about it?’ from your boyfriend. “you're overthinking.” (translation: you're right).

“uh huh, sure i am.”

“whatever. who you talk to and interact with is none of my concern. it's not like i care about such things anyway.” he retorts. “i'm not possessive.”

so he says. “by the way, his pickup line was pathetic—‘are you anemo because your beauty blows me away’? atrocious.”

your eyebrow raises in return. really, who was speaking about “not caring” and then judging right after? well, it's fine because he was kinda right.... cyno would definitely get along with that guy.

“it was sincere! i think he has to be commended for his efforts, no?”

“you call that effort?” his face scrunches to a dissatisfied frown.

kinoya, kimiya—he doesn't even remember his name anymore. wanderer doesn't care for those that waste his time, and more especially to those that attempt to get close to you in particular. honestly, what a cheap trick.

and you! you were seriously humoring that moony researcher earlier. you even smiled at him! wanderer seethes, crossing his arms. “its quite irritating, knowing that they flock to you under the guise of—what was it he said? right, ‘shared academic pursuits.’ it was too obvious.”

“first of all: that's rude, second, he really needed help! anyone would feel sorry for him.” you tut, pinching the smooth of wanderer's palm. you wisely decide not to comment on how he immediately interlocks hands with you.

you snicker. “and he was only asking for advice on his research topic, silly.”

“hah! how nice — you're defending him now.” it's incredible how wanderer has the uncanny ability to be just like an annoyed cat that dunked itself into a bucket of cold water; and the way he frowns at you only makes you let out an even worse fit of laughter.

wanderer drinks in the sound, resonating it with the beat of his soul, your laugh the heartbeat echoing deep within his veins. he is reduced to nothing with you—with you, his face relaxes; wanderer may be indifferent to humans, but with you, your mere existence is enough for him to falter like a human, weaken like a human.

and weakly, perhaps in an attempt to save face, he speaks, “you didn't deny it.”

“deny what?”

“...defending him.” (if he were a cat, his ears would definitely fall flat right now).

you let out another light laugh, but sparing your lover the torment, you cling to the side of his arm instead.

“i never had such intentions.” stating it quite firmly, “i'm only saying that there's no competition to be made, darling.”

he gives you a skeptical look in return. “was there even any?”

“none at all.” you lean closer to him, and the wanderer leans into the touch of your hand on his cheek. “since you're winning.”

the flustered blush you receive and the subconscious squeeze of his hand in yours conveys all you need to say.

that did the trick. wanderer's smile is satisfied—smug. “clearly, you managed to make the right call for once.”

“well, i could hardly resist you.”

afterwards, you note that the wanderer's pace doesn't seem as fast as usual anymore. no matter the jaw dropped stares of others at the two of you cozying up together, he never let go of your hand once.

(the next day, kimiya comes to you with a sheepish smile saying that he'd like to focus on his own without your help.

“was it your doing?” you look at the wanderer by your bedside table fastening his vision in pace, voice deadpanning.

“hah? why would i waste my time over some insignificant mortal?” he replies, but as he's putting on his hat, you see him smile to himself.

that little...)

# observation three: secretly? protective/considerate (green flag!!)

if you ask anyone who knows the wanderer on a personal note, you'd find out that he is, indeed, quite considerate—hidden underneath alllll that snark and aloofness and haughtiness, the wanderer cares for those who have helped him in some way, and with you as his partner (romantic), that care is multiplied tenfold hundredfold.

this quality of his, despite being endearing on paper and practice, is reminiscent of that of an aggressive mother hen; if you count wanderer as a hen that pecks someone incessently to show his care.

he chides you like an exasperated young maiden, but the soft way he handles your bruised arm littered with injuries from your recent run in with some strange fontainian seahorse contradicts his harsh scoldings.

(“bested by a fish? are you serious?”

“excuse you, i needed to get it's horns for materials, okay?!”

“...remind me why i'm stuck with an idiot for a companion.”

“uh, because i have a great personality, and you love me?”

“a decision i've made that's quite hard to defend, honestly.”

you stick your tongue out at him. yes, his habits also become yours.)

or how he tells you you're hopeless at cooking, but always manages to excuse himself to cook for you the moment he notices even the slightest decline in your health. one concern though; he throws the bento towards your head—so minus points for domesticity. (...he has cut heart shapes into the vegetables before and has never been the same since.)

if there's anything you can count wanderer for, he will do it. you could ask him to attempt to pluck the very fabric of reality for you, string together the stars and leave them at your feet, and he will do so, huffing all the while (he never means it). he's just smitten like that; not that he would ever verbalize it—yet. his hushed and vulnerable whispers of asking you to let him stay by your side are your closest road to his admittance.

he will not serenade you with ‘shallow declarations of love,’ as he tells you, but you know that he will always be there for you, for better or for worse.

—☆★☆—

fury is an emotion wanderer was once very accustomed to—it reminds him of electric violet, of three betrayals and of yearning for a constitution he was never fated to reach.

and fury tugs at the strings of his being the moment he sees the droplets of tears fall from your eyes, blurring your vision.

“who did it?” something bitter and violent manifests in his countenance, his vision pulsing angrily with gales threatening to harm. (it does not harm you, though. it never does.) “who did this to you?”

his grip on your shoulders tightens the more you refuse to answer, both from anger and fear. you're never this silent; and his panic increases when you opt to bury yourself in his neck. wanderer sighs.

“hey. i'm asking who made you cry like this, idiot.”

“...”

“fine, i won't call you an idiot, then.” but impatient way he speaks the syllables that make your name betrays his worry. “just talk to me.”

“...can we just stay here like this?”

“....”

“sorry, that was a little-” you say, voice strained, pulling away; but the wanderer tugs you close, allowing you to hide from the world that seems so out to get you. (he knows that feeling well, after all.)

it's he who entangles himself with you, listening to the steady rise of your heartbeat, wiping away your tears.

“i didn't say you couldn't hug me, stupid. it's fine. do as you like.”

if it were a person that did this to you, that would've been better murder was never really out of the table with him, but when faced with something he is unable to solve for you; whether it be a bad day, bad luck, or even something he cannot control, wanderer finds himself at a loss.

because the concept of love, with you, is foreign—terrifying, even. betrayal and scorn were his guiding compass, and to be rid of it and to be seen by you, held by you, and to know that you were not going to follow in the footsteps of those he once clung to was far too good to believe. (yet he tries. for you.)

returning your embrace only passively, he tries to scramble for words of comfort—and when he fails to find the nerve to do so, he does the only thing he can allow himself to do.

with the kindness and gentleness he fostered (still fosters, thanks to you) from his memories as the kabukimono, the wanderer holds you, if only to remind himself of his place by your side, unchanging and adamant—as you remind him of his place beside yours.

he leads you to calm yourself down, albeit roughly as he tells you to stop fussing over trying to help him get you something wipe your tears with—and for all his flushed visage, he lets you cling to him, seeking his comfort.

i'm here, it goes unsaid. wanderer knows you'd pick up on it anyway. please talk to me.

(“if i die from this, i'll come haunt you as a ghost.” you shake like a leaf in his arms, clutched tight and staring at anywhere but the ground. who comforts someone by putting them almost 80 feet up in the air? heights are so not your thing.

“like i'd let you.” wanderer says, rolling his eyes. “and you're shaking too much. just keep your eyes on me, will you?”

“...was that flirting?”

“i will drop you.”

“wait, i'm kidding!” a particular breeze leaves you in goosebumps, with wanderer tightening his grip on you. “don't let me fall, please?”

“are you stupid?” he snaps, but urges you to look at the sight of the sunset on the horizon. his hold is more gentle this time, too. “why would i let you fall? now stop shaking and hold on to me.”

you think you fell just a little harder for him that day.)

—and if you decide to press a kiss to the back of his nape as a way of thanks, you're rewarded with a playful gale and a little zap to deter you in response.

“watch it, [name].” he says, but the shifty eyed way he doesn't meet your eyes isn't fooling anyone here; neither is the red on his cheeks. “you're too close.”

“hehe, sorry, sorry, couldn't resist.”

nonetheless. he supposes the growing smile on your face in place of your tears are sufficient payment for wanderer's efforts. hmph.

he'll let it slide for today.

(he does a lot of that when it comes to you.)

# deciding conclusion: totally in love with you (real not clickbait)

saying it outright: being with the wanderer is not a smooth road. it is full of hardships, hurt, and learning. there will be many times when his built in self destruction (read: abandonment issues) will kick in, hurting you in the process.

getting him to say ‘i love you’ will seem impossible at first, and there will be times when his doubt pierces your heart and renders it tattered to pieces. he's doing his best chat, pls help him

he will not be able to utter sweet words of adoration like you do, or return your embrace as easily as you would with him—and there will be many moments when he will feel as if he's not enough.

but nourish your affections, stay consistently by his side, show him that he is worth loving, worth staying for, and like the foundations of a steadily built tower, his trust and love for you too will grow.

(it will sometimes feel tiring, it will feel hopeless, and it's more than what you've bargained for, but it will all be worth it in the end.)

because you know he cares; it's in the way his expression morphs into helplessness when he sees your face fall in an argument, how he doesn't push you away when you kiss him and shower him with hugs, and when his hands lock tightly in yours in a sea of people, with you only in his sights. how his eyes betray him to look at you with fondness and warmth.

(it's wordless whenever wanderer decides to hold you tight at night, hugging you like his last lifeline. especially after a disagreement, with only the quietude of the night to observe.

he said some hurtful words today. that much he knows.

“are you asleep?” his voice is muffled against your shirt, and he may not need to breathe, but he inhales your scent anyway, memorizing the sight of you in his arms like a promise. “...you probably are.”

silence. “i'm sorry.”

“.....”

his lip trembles, his grasp on your arms bruising if not for your non-awareness. there's a wetness growing against your shirt, and small sniffles.

“i'm sorry.” and gently, so gently, wanderer presses his forehead against your shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of your body. “i shouldn't have snapped at you and told you those sorts of things.”

i'm sorry i hurt you.

please stay.

please don't let go of me.

i need you.

i love you.

when morning comes, you wake up to the sight of the wanderer in your bed, face nuzzled in your chest.

there are tearstains on his face.)

getting him to be open and vulnerable is akin to keeping a rusty, torn boat afloat; it will not be easy, no, but you know that he tries, (so very hard) to make it work. that he fights desperately against his own clumsily strung tethers and rebuilds himself anew, if only to understand and perceive you—to love you as you deserve.

and when that time comes, wanderer will cling to you, desperately, completely, and make sure your efforts will never ever make you regret giving him the chance to open up and be with you.

—☆★☆—

“what would happen if we ever broke up?”

dropping such a bombshell in the middle of having the wanderer on your lap was not how he thought things would go to, granted how pleasant the atmosphere was—he'd agreed to going on a much needed date (your words) with you after lesser lord kusanali had just graded him on one of his essay papers. (he got an a, obviously)

you don't think you've ever seen such a distraught look cross wanderer's face—aside from the time you finally beat him at tcg (5 out of 4); and you've never seen him look so angry either.

rather, he looked scared.

“what brought this idea on?” he tries to lodge out the words, trying to act coherent. but underneath, a storm brews—his hands are shaking. wanderer feels like he's swallowed a bag full of needles.

am i not doing enough? was i too harsh on them when i scolded them for fighting that damn mechanical desert robot? he's scared. or... do they really....

the mere idea of you being tired of him—sick of him, and ready to leave him behind leaves an ugly, disgusting feeling. like acid on his skin.

perhaps, you don't love him anymore? wanderer panics, senses going overdrive. was it that argument months ago when he hurt your feelings? he knows you know he apologized, and he's doing everything in his power to make sure he wasn't repeating that mistake anymore—but why would you say this out of nowhere?

or maybe it's because he didn't notice you feeling uncomfortable in your relationship? no, you would have definitely told him if so. then what is it? you don't just say things like this out of nowhere so seriously-

“i mean... at this point, i think i wouldn't ever want to break up with you.”

“...what?” wanderer blinks.

“you heard me.” cupping the sides of his face with your hands, you restate your words with more vigor. eyes determined. “i don't think i've ever loved someone so much as i love you. heck, not even close! kuni, if we break up, i might actually never recover.”

and the wanderer falls. how could you even say such a thing?

“that's... you're shameless.” he states it like an insult, but his hands go up to hide his eyes, hiding his embarrassment from your romantic words. “why would you even say something so out of pocket like that? you utter fool. you almost made me think i-”

- would lose you. even thinking it made him feel nauseous.

“why are we still dating then? but really, i mean it. i love you too much.” you coo, and that, in return, leads the wanderer to release an exasperated, weary sigh. if he were human, he's sure his blood pressure would never be normal because of you.

but contrary to his attitude, he relaxes his face and allows you to hold him. lightens up, even. you continue, rambling on, “be honest, you know you love me.”

“unfortunately.”

and that brings out such a bright and dazzling smile on your face that the puppets sarcastic smile is replaced by a real one when you huff and smack at his head. (all is well.)

“you're so unromantic.”

indeed, being with this strange, eccentric puppet was certainly a challenge in more ways than one. nonetheless, you know he cherishes you—because with you, the wanderer is different. he's bristly, infuriating, and honestly a pain (lovingly), but he cares for you.

he tells you to stop ogling at his pretty face and do the dishes, yet he never minds the attention at all. he tells you that you were a fool for accidentally getting yourself injured by eremites because you wanted to save some fungi, but follows you anyway and makes sure no one messes with you.

he says he probably wouldn't miss you while you're gone, but is always the first person you see when you return to sumeru city. it's these little things that make you love him, and you know the feeling is mutual—even if he'll act indifferent about it in the meantime.

“hey, kuni?”

wanderer's eyes are closed, serene. once he knew that you were not, in fact, going to break up with him, he relishes the feeling of his head resting on your lap. it was safe, warm, and everything to him; but he'd rather let the world burn before he tells you. “what?”

“thank you for letting me love you.”

....

“...idiot.” is all he says. you can feel him shift to the side so you won't see his face. “you don't have to thank me for that. that's so sappy...”

(and if you ever saw the slight sheen of glossiness in his eyes, you keep it to yourself.)

i should be thanking you. he thinks instead. i'm glad you love me.

so many things pop up in his head for this, so many unspoken words—and he may not be able to convey such things to you; he might never be able to, but you know that he loves, loves, and adores you.

because you accepted his past, his sins and his imperfections and treated him with tenderness and care. and you know that no matter how many sides of the wanderer you have yet to explore, you will love each one.

and that is enough for him to never let go.

a/n: IM CRYING I FINISHED THIS RIGHT ON TIME AFTER HIS EVENT and his growth has come so far,,, so proud of him 🥹

[captain-bubble-wrap]

baaaaabe! just imagine papi looking up and searching for his girl in the crowd🤭 how would he react when he spots her? need you to work your papi magic please🥹🤞🏼

Tonight, yourself and three of your girlfriends were attending the Leafs game as the final stop of your birthday celebration. Auston had been the one to get you the tickets and they had given you the best vantage point for viewing each of the home team’s goals. Your friends would be the first to admit that they didn’t know anything about hockey, but they knew who Auston was and that was enough. You, on the other hand, hadn’t heard half of what they were yapping about, because you were too transfixed on keeping track of number thirty-four.

“Wait, what’s Auston’s number again?”

You sighed, as you had already answered her question once before, “Thirty-four.”

“Oh, right! Sorry! There are just too many out there to keep track of! This the last...period, right?”

“Yeah, and we need to be smart and hold this lead,” you added, hands clasps in front of your lips. The game had been eventful since the opening puck drop and was getting down to the wire. The Canes remained scoreless through the first with the Leafs scoring four unanswered goals; the second period had been scoreless for both teams; which led to the third. Carolina would put up three quick goals withing three minutes, making the score four-to-three with five minutes remaining in regulation. With just two minutes and change remaining, the Canes pulled their goalie. Always a stressful moment with the net empty, you locked onto Auston who had just started a fresh shift.

It was a battle to get the puck out of their zone, what with the Canes having an extra man on the ice, but eventually Auston gained possession and fired on the open net, scoring the fifth goal for the Leafs. As he celebrated with his teammates, his eyes looked for you in the stands, hoping he had remembered which section you were in. And there you were, on your feet, already looking at him when his eyes locked onto you for a passing moment. To fans, it just looked like he was just scanning the crowd for their reactions, but you knew this was a moment shared just between the two of you. Though it only lasted for a second or two, it had been enough to give you butterflies. Your girlfriends said nothing, they were just trying to match the energy and actions of those around them,

Once the game resumed, there would be one more empty net goal, making the Leafs final score six to three once the final buzzer sounded. The whole arena was electric! You’d watch your boys celebrate their victory, giving Stolarz head taps for the well-won performance. It was so good to see them win, and on your birthday no less. You couldn’t help but smile as you stared at Auston, his large frame, showing the level of exhaustion he was now feeling. He wouldn’t look for you again, and you hadn’t expected him too. One little glace had been enough; you’d get to spend the whole night with him anyway. That was something no one else could say. Happy birthday to you, indeed~

[rqbossman]

Rules

Hey everyone, I thought it would be a good idea to establish some ground rules to guide interactions on here so without further ado: 1) I get to change and or ignore my own rules as and when I like. It's my blog so tough. 2) I won't even consider answering an ask unless it meets the following criteria: a) I haven't been asked it before on Tumblr. b) It is worded as a question. c) It does not ask me to rule on canon for content I make. d) It does not ask for takes on real people. e) It has a positive tone (seeking to become positive counts) f) It is not a callout (e.g. why are you so rubbish etc.) g) It is not asking for confidential information on business and/or Intellectual property h) It is not just rephrasing a previous question because people didn't like the answer. i) It's respectful. j) It is not just a veiled story request (e.g. why don't you make these characters kiss etc.) 3) This is not a press conference or an interrogation. If you want to ask serious questions about Rusty Quill and other proper topics send them to mail@rustyquill.com 4) If you DM me I will ignore it on principal. Not because I don't like you but because I am receiving so many that I can't be fair with it and it's just generally unwise anyway. 5) Remember we are all human. That means we can make mistakes, change our minds, be flippant, have a bad day and give bad advice. Please show a little grace rather than trying to catch people out. I do not support dogpiling in any situation. 6) Be kind. The fastest way to get yourself blocked by me is being unkind even if you are in the right. Some of the cruellest and regrettable actions I have ever seen have been fuelled by righteous indignation. 7) Be wise. Internet culture moves fast. Not everyone knows everything you know and not everyone needs to know everything you know. You aren't helping me if you appoint yourself "chief brainbox educator supreme" and try to school people on how things should be. Let's just all keep it chill yeah? 8) Be patient. This is not my job. This is barely even counts as a good idea! I run my social media when I can but I don't have deadlines and I don't have sociability quotas. I might do a flurry of activity when I have time then go quiet for months. Just go ahead and assume if I am not posting it's for a good reason. 9) One question per person. Don't worry it doesn't annoy me, its just I don't know if its fair me using all my social media time budget on a single person and leave others unanswered.

This is hardly a complete or exhaustive list and no doubt I have made some tragic tumblr newb error but it'll have to do for now. I am happy to take constructive feedback on these but don't expect quick turnaround on anything.

[amortxt]

⠀ㅤ⠀ ⠀𖥻⠀ㅤ⠀﹫⠀toji⠀fushiguro.

ㅤㅤⓘㅤㅤangst to fluff ( ish) + mentions of sexual activity, reader and toji are in a complicated relationship, toxic behavior on toji's behalf

how do you always end up here? with that man blacked out, back facing you after one of the most intimate act two people could engage in, snoring without a care in the world for the woman besides him.

make no mistake, it was not the first time. it was one of many, even after many months.

and you sat there staring at your window. knowing that next morning it'd be open and the other side of your bed would be a little bit more lighter. and your blanket will be a little bit more colder.

and you'll feel a little bit more lonely every. single. time.

the first night toji came over, it was after a meeting at a bar. he was gone in the morning but he took your number. he didn't call you, he sent you a text two weeks later asking if you were available. you foolishly said yes and he arrived a little past midnight caked in blood and shut up all your questions by quickly tearing your clothes off. and next morning, he'd leave again.

the cycle repeated, until after a few months he practically cut all forms of communication, arriving at your door without warning, eating your food, using your shower, then slipping into bed with you just to leave again before you could even wake up.

still, despite the tears, the screaming and arguing and all the unanswered questions, you found yourself making one extra serving of dinner, and occasionally getting special soap, sheets and clothes. but what was it for when he'd come home and the food was lukewarm? when he didn't even use the soap, when he wouldn't care about the sheets and the clothes were nothing but rags on the floor?

what was the point when you'd be left unappreciated? it didn't feel like anything. it felt like you were burdened. and you couldn't do anything to escape anymore. he'd come and he'd go and he wouldn't tell you anything.

but today, toji came back a little earlier, but with a little more blood. he used the soap and even ate dinner while it was still hot, but he didn't bother talking. he was never good at it anyways. he took you to bed. he ripped your clothes off and even complimented your sheets.

for a little bit, it felt better. maybe a little different, like there was a chance at you two. one you were desperately trying to get these past few months.

but then he turned away. and your bed felt nauseating. you felt nauseating. you felt worthless all over again. maybe it was hard for him to be affectionate but it was killing you to deal with it.

you had half a mind to get up and open the window for him. get the room cold to prepare for his inevitable departure again.

your eyesight got blurry and you sniffled. quietly sobbing into your pillow at the hollow feeling that burnt inside your chest.

the bed creaked and you struggled to stop your flooding emotions. how embarrassing would it be if the emotionally unavailable deadbeat next to you found you crying?

so it was all the more confusing when you felt his arm wrap around you. you put up a small fight and he grumbled, half asleep.

your eyebrows scrunched. was toji fushiguro holding you? your head was hurting. you felt the ache in your heart pound harder, but for all the wrong reasons. why aren't you angry? it took him so long. it took so much effort, so much time. but by god was it worth it. to feel his big, beefy arms wrap around you, holding you tight like it was you who'd run away in the morning.

it felt so warm. so comforting. so.. not lonely.

the sun rose, and you felt the bed creak, heard toji's groans. but you couldn't even bother to stop him this time. you knew it was coming. you blamed yourself for having the hope you did for a man like him.

a few minutes passed and the bed still felt heavy. you felt his hand rest on your thigh with an iron grip like he needed to be connected to your body in some way or another. you checked the time to notice that not a few minutes had passed, but about a good hour and a half.

he stayed. the window was closed, and he was sound asleep snoring next to you. the dinner, the soap, the clothes, and the sheets suddenly felt less like a burden. it felt worth it, even if only for a moment and an hour and a half.

he moved his body closer, his head resting on your chest, buried in the crook of your neck, he murmured a soft a "mornin' ma." and went right back to snoozing.

maybe the burden was worth it.

⠀ㅤ⠀⠀©⠀all work written by ﹫amortxt. do not repost.

[briarpatch-kids]

Somatiform and Functional diseases are handled in a really shitty way by the disabled community, the undiagnosed community, and in a medical setting. There is nothing wrong with coming to the end of a diagnosis journey, trying treatment for a somatiform disorder, and it helping!

It does not mean it's all in your head. Things like pain, collapsing, throwing up, unexplained nerve symptoms, even psychogenic seizures? Those are your body's way of sounding the alarm and telling you something is VERY wrong. And you listened to those alarms and looked for the cause. It just turned out that the alarm wasn't coming from a physical disease, but from your mental and emotional life. You listened to that alarm and kept searching until you got an answer. It means you were in so much emotional pain or under so much stress that your body started screaming that you needed help. And you sought that help. And I'm glad that you did, you deserve relief from that pain and that stress. People should respect that more than they do.

For some people with Functional Neurological Disorder, their problems getting diagnosed may be because we've reached the end of the line of CURRENT medicine without an answer. Not too long ago, a lot of people ended up in the "we don't really know what's wrong with you" grey zone like you have and both doctors and society were okay with that. With how many of those diagnoses are nailed down and given names and lab results, a lot of society and doctors see that grey area as "well if we cant solve it, then the problem must not be real or its a somatiform disorder and all in your head." And they couldn't be more wrong. Its either something that can't be explained by CURRENT medical tests, or it's a physical reaction to emotional pain and stress.

Anyways, I haven't slept in 36 hours so this is a mess but the TLDR is that somatiform diseases are your body sounding the alarm for another type of pain and stress, and some functional disorder diagnoses are because we haven't answered ALL the questions in life but doctors and other people seem to think that if there's no good answer than the question isn't worth asking. People suck, doctors suck, and we should treat people with unanswered questions and emotional pain better.

[aphroditelovesu]

Hai, do you take request for Enola Holmes? If so could you do a headcannon for Yandere husband Sherlock holmes x Young Duchess Of Somerset who is a very wealthy, prestigious, powerful and Influential woman in England?

(Both in headcannon and Boi, please)

❝ 🔍 — lady l: I hope you like it, anon! I certainly enjoyed writing it and here is the link to his bot :) have fun and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: stalking, mention of kidnapping and death and unhealthy relationships.

❝🔍pairing: yandere!sherlock holmes x female!reader.

Sherlock Holmes never planned to get married, too focused on his work to even think about the possibility of getting a wife and having children. He always kept that thought in mind for a long time, until the day he met you, the Duchess of Somerset.

During an investigation, Sherlock had to go to a ton society ball to get clues and with the money and fame he had, it wasn't difficult. He just didn't expect to find you there, so beautiful and surrounded by flatterers. Holmes did not expect to be taken away the way he was by your smile.

You changed his way of thinking very quickly, leaving him intrigued and a little curious. Who were you, anyway? And why don't you get out of his thoughts? Endless, unanswered questions were all Holmes had.

Sherlock did extensive research about you and your family. You came from a noble and powerful family, very rich and prestigious and there were many benefits to marrying you. Several young nobles had their eyes on you as your title and powers were very tempting. This made him furious.

They were all leeches who only wanted you for the power and riches that came with it. They could never appreciate you the way he would, they couldn't worship the ground you walk on the same way he would. They would never be as good to you as he would be.

Sherlock wasn't sure why he felt this way about you, but he knew he couldn't allow you to marry one of those unworthy fellows. He had to have you, it was a need, a desire that dominated him completely. You would be his, he would be sure of that.

He was quick to pursue you and court you. Being the excellent detective that he was, Sherlock quickly discovered all of your interests and places you used to go to and he consequently started appearing in those places and talking to you. He knew he shouldn't seem crazy, so Sherlock was kind and showed an obvious interest in you.

It didn't take long for him to become in love with you, even with the dark and unhealthy feelings taking over his mind, Sherlock still remained the same with you. You also fell in love with him gradually, he was handsome, kind and not a brainless sycophant. He was everything you could want in a husband, so when, one autumn afternoon, he asked you to marry him, you happily said yes. Holmes smiled at this, everything was going the way he planned.

Fortunately for your family's life, they had no problem accepting Sherlock into the family. He was a good suitor and had good fame and fortune, so he was good to marry you, the Duchess of Somerset. Sherlock was happy about that, satisfied with the fact that he wouldn't have to convince your family in less orthodox ways.

Life with him was good and Sherlock was a good husband by the standards of the time. He was faithful to you and loved you deeply. You never thought a husband could love his wife as much as he did, but Sherlock was one of a kind. He made you feel loved every day, every little bit of you was adored by him. He loved the ground you walked on and did everything he could to make you happy.

He spoiled you endlessly, anything you wanted he would buy for you. Even if it wasn't necessary due to your status, Sherlock still loved giving you gifts. Your wardrobe grew a lot after your wedding and there were many times when you only wore a dress once out of the many you received.

Sherlock was very protective and slightly possessive over you, but he won't let you down. He will vent his jealousy and fury in other ways, he could never think of upsetting you with that. But his overprotection could be suffocating, as he made a point of personally taking care of his safety and he was constantly attached to you. It was part of the job, he would tell you.

He would teach you self defense if you didn't know. He knows it's dangerous, but Sherlock wants you to know how to defend yourself in case he can't protect you. Especially when you were pregnant, he wouldn't take any risks.

Being the Duchess of Somerset and having so much power and influence wouldn't stop Sherlock from pursuing you. He might have some problems with that, since due to your heritage he could never kidnap you because he would be discovered, but he would deal with it. After all, you are his and he is yours. And when he became your husband, he swore to himself that he would never stop loving you and he would never let you go.

You are united until death, at the end of it all.

[luvnoirs]

caught

paring: paige x fem!reader synopsis: reader walks in on kk and paige during a tiktok live and accidentally exposes their relationship warning(s): none ! (sfw) word count: 742

a/n: shoutout to oomf for giving me this idea lmao

"hey guys. where's p?" you question after you opened the front door to one of the team's shared apartment.

you had first stopped by your girlfriend's shared apartment which was next door, only to find out that she wasn't there. confused, you had sent her a text that had gone unanswered for ten minutes. so then you decided to go next door to see if her other teammates knew where the hell she was.

you were first met with amari as she held a jar of pickles, half of a pickle being chewed in her mouth while she held the remaining half in her hand. aubrey sat on the couch cheering on aaliyah as she wildly danced in front of the tv playing just dance 4.

amari was the only one who actually noticed your presence and she nodded towards the back of the apartment where the rooms were located since her mouth was still busy chewing on the salty pickle.

you thanked her as you made your way out of the common area and into the hallway. you could already hear loud chatter accompanied with the sound of music playing. you instantly knew one of the voices belonged to kk, so you decided to open it because paige was known to keep kk by her side most times.

your assumption was proven right once you finally opened the door and laid your eyes on kk and paige goofing off in front of an iphone camera. their backs were faced towards you while ice laid on the bed playing fortnite so she noticed you first. yet, her eyes widened a bit before they quickly cut towards kk and paige's direction. but before ice could say anything you had beat her to it.

"babe, seriously?"

kk paused her dancing while her and paige both turned around to the sound of my annoyed voice.

you watched confusedly as kk let out an 'oh shit!", scrambling to grab her phone and tap the screen quickly. before you could question it, paige was walking towards you with a surprised expression.

"y/n?" paige questioned. "i thought you said you couldn't come over tonight?"

you smacked your teeth and shook your head at her. "i texted you saying nevermind. then, i showed up to your dorm but you weren't there and when i texted you again you never responded. where is your phone?"

"it died so i had it on the charger while kk and i went live…" paige scratched her head, glancing back at kk who was now sitting on ice's bed biting the inside of her cheek.

"oh shit, you were live? i thought you were making one of those stupid tiktok videos-- ice! why didn't you tell me?" you whacked the side of her leg as she yelled out dramatically.

you and paige haven't exactly made your relationship public yet and you literally avoided the girl as if she was the plague whenever one of the girls went live. it was honestly all your decision for it to be this way because you didn't want the media to focus on who paige was dating rather than her actual talent and love for her community. you also knew how many fans she had and you could only imagine what they would say about you if they had found out that you were dating the paige bueckers.

"hey, i tried to warn them!" ice defended herself, still trying to concentrate on her game.

"they probably screen recorded the live, too" kk added, looking back and forth between you and unbothered paige.

you groaned as paige wrapped her arms around you, resting her cheek on top of your head. "nah it's fine… you weren't in the camera anyway so they can speculate all they want about it."

laughing, you hugged her back. she had practice earlier tonight so she smelled like fresh clean clothes and the lavender soap she uses. you inhaled and relaxed against her body. "your fans aren't dumb, paige…"

paige pulled back a bit to look at your face. "i don't care. i'm tired of hiding you-"

"um, not to be rude, but can y'all do this lovey-dovey shit somewhere else…" kk feigned disgust and held her stomach as if she was sick.

paige rolled her eyes and you let out another laugh. you said goodbye to her two teammates as your girlfriend grabbed you by the hand and walked you out of the room.

[armageddon-generation]

Empire of Death was bad and cemented several fundemental flaws in this season.

I watched this in the theatre, and the contrast between everyone's excitement before Empire, and their universal disappointment leaving the theatre was super disheartening. I'm gonna try to articulate my problems with episode, and how they're linked to fundenental structural issues of this season.

SPOILERS BELOW:

Sutekh

The moment the UNIT characters died the story was robbed of any stakes. (Also? Kate and Ibrahim?? During Pride month?? Disgusting)

Sutekh was pointless, big CGI spectacle who was barely there. Saying he's been latched onto the TARDIS since Pyramids of Mars was such an asspull. Why couldn't he have latched on during Wild Blue Yonder? wouldn't that make much more sense??

You're telling me the guy who holds all life in contempt is invested enough in learning the identity of Ruby's mum he willingly reveals himself??

And then they defeat him by dragging him through the Vortex just like before, which it's been explicitly stated *didn't work* last time? He just *lets* Ruby leash him??

The 'death of death is life' bit, and the idea of the Doctor representing life as a Ying to Sutekh's Yang, is a cool concept just jammed in there with no real buildup or depth.

The issue is bringing Sutekh back takes so much effort- a literal, clunky clipshow of Pyramids of Mars, a whole episode spent building up to the reveal of a silly anagram entirely unrekated to Sutekh's previous appearance. And it just... amounts to nothing. What a silly way to cap off a season meant to be jumping-on point for brand-new viewers.

Mel was just takingup space. Pointless.

Ruby's Mother

I don't have a problem with the *concept* of Ruby's mum being normal. I really like the idea thematically. The execution was terrible.

First of all it leaves so many unanswered questions (why the snow? Why was time changing? Why was she shadowed? Literally just for the sake of the mystery-box?) and represents the worst thing about this new era- RTD using fantasy logic to handwave any logic at all, and just do whatever he wants without properly justifying it.

Second, I *hate* how easy and simple and neat the reunion is. Ruby seems incapable of getting angry with anyone. She has never once argued with 15, or Carla, or anyone besides that one moment in 73 Yards. She has never expressed any kind of negative feeling towards her mother for abandoning her. And it's fine for her to reach that conclusion! It's just bizzare we never see Ruby struggle with her feelings beyond the shallow goal of wanting to find her.

(Also Carla? Has nothing to say?? Just welcomes that woman in with basically no comment? Carla is a 2D cutout of a person, used as a plot device and otherwise relegated to the single character trait of I Love My Daughter. The children yearn for the ilk of Jackie Tyler, Sylvia Noble, even Francine Jones.)

15 & Ruby

The emotion behind 15 & Ruby's split felt entirely unearned because we've never seen their bond develop. They never argue, never disagree, Ruby hasn't learned anything about herself or grown or changed. The closest we got to that is 73 Yards, which was undone. She was already brave and kind and musical and sure she loved her adoptive family when we met her in Church on Ruby Road.

Similarly, 15 tells us Ruby encouraged him to talk about family in a way he never has, but that was in what, two moments across the season? And they seemed random, unrelated to Ruby being with him. New viewers will assume 15 is just that open anyway- he was discussing fatherhood with a dead man's hologram- and old viewers assumed trauma-dumping was just a new trait of 15's personality, not Ruby-specific.

The problem is we're told Ruby & 15 are best friends but it isn't earned. I liked 15 crying initially but both he and Ruby do it so much (15 cries about 5 times in this one episode) it loses its impact and I'm becoming numb to it. There is no contrast, no downtime.

Season Structural Issues

I think the biggest problem is Season 1's storytelling priorities. It's much more interested in selling *the show* (look at our big budget! And guest stars! And how flexible our format is! Musical episode! The Beatles as props! Bottle episode! Indie folk-horror! Black Mirror! Gay Bridgerton!) it forgot to put effort into developing and investing us in its characters. I liked a lot of the individual stories this year but in retrospect a lot of them feel like they're wasting space that needed to go to essential character and theme setup.

These skewed priorities, combined with the cut down episode count, really impact the pacing of the season. Ruby and 15 were barely together! Even in Rogue they were seperated for most of the story!! We only loop back to a flashback of 15 meeting Carla in Rogue!

This is made worse by the baffling insistence on a 45-minute runtime. We know key sequences were cut from almost every episode, with highlights including:

The Gobin King invading Ruby's flat and her banishing him with scratchcards in The Church on Ruby Road: Her missing 'companion saves the day' moment!

Refrence to the Toymaker in The Church on Ruby Road, which was itself referenced in The Devil's Chord. 'I told you about the Toymaker when we first met' sir, objectively you did not.

The TARDIS jukebox playing the Sugarbabes' Push The Button in the opening scene of Space Babies, hastily cut around in the final edit. This is the setup of a running joke still in the episode, and part of the story's climax. The first encounter with the Bogeyman was also longer, with 15 taking particular interest in its skin

Extended scenes in Abbey Road from The Devil's Chord, including an apparently significant speaking role for Cilla Black, according to her annoyed actress.

Cut dialogue from The Devil's Chord explaining the musoical number was caused by Maestro's power lingering, and that banishing them undid everything they'd done. Fans inferred thos based on the rules established in The Giggle, but again, new fans haven't seen The Giggle and were left clueless.

An opening sequence for The Legend of Ruby Sunday where 15 & Ruby meet Susan as a nanny in 1947 America, a blue-skinned waitress, and an astronaut meeting a colony of giant, sentient ants. At the end of this we actually see 15 decide to go to UNIT for help. In the broadcast version he just sorta shows up.

Really what Empire of Death exposed to me is how emotionally hollow the season was. I enjoy the exoperimentalism, but not at the cost of character. And then in the finale Russell reverts to almost a parody of his RTD1 finales, with the nonsense logic and lack of consequences. All the worst bits of Last of the Time Lords and The Giggle put in a blender.