#but most of it seems to stick so closely to canon + nothing else. which isnt a bad thing! its just...theres so much more there could be!!

[inthewiiildwoods]

from the little of the tag i've skimmed it doesnt seem like the shipping scene is very robust here. most art also seems to be of the non-human variety. i suppose i must fulfil my duty as The One Guy™

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (7/?)

Part summary: Six weeks later, Leigh decides to throw herself a birthday party.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6.600+ | Warnings : None | Author's Note: Just a reminder that this doesn't strictly follow canon events. Borrowed some elements from the actual birthday episode, but it's going to go very differently for us :) Enjoy!

Masterlist | Part I Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI

-

Six weeks later

“Hey! Happy birthday, sweetheart!” Leigh’s mom calls out from the kitchen as Leigh hurries down the stairs. She runs straight into Amy’s arms, a ball of energy, drawing bewildered looks from her mom and sister. Ever since Matt died, they are used to Leigh either being too quiet or too snarky. Today, of all days, they were expecting her to be something else much worse. But it seems they're mistaken as Leigh turns to Jules, yanks her in close, and kisses her hair.

Jules and Amy share a look. To say this as an interesting development would be an understatement. It's her birthday—her first one without Matt, who had been at the heart of her celebrations for the last decade. They hope Leigh finds some happiness, truly, but these past several months have taught them to temper their expectations.

They keep their silent exchange to themselves, watching as Leigh picks up a croissant and takes a heart bite out of it, her face lit up with the widest smile. “Happy birthday,” Jules grins, pushing a small envelope towards Leigh. “Got something for you.”

“Thank you!” Leigh exclaims. She eagerly opens the envelope to find a bunch of homemade coupons, each promising some sort of favor from Jules, good for the next year. They range from “Will listen to your rants for 30 minutes, no interruptions” to “I will restart the book club you tried to get me and mom to do and actually read the books this time.”

Laughing, Leigh flips through them. “These are brilliant, Jules. Might have to use one today,” she says, already thinking about which one she'll cash in first. Then, she pulls Jules in a bear hug, as if it’s the most exquisite present she’s ever gotten in her lifetime. 

“You okay?” Leigh asks when she notices Amy staring at her.

Jules gives their mom a warning look as Amy struggles to come up with a response. “Nothing, I just… I didn’t think you’d be doing quite so well today. That’s all.”

“I didn’t either but we all make choices and I’m choosing to have a great birthday. So, let’s do this thing!” Leigh says in a manner that Jules feels too over the top. Amy starts laying out the plans for the evening and Leigh has a blank look by the time she finishes running them through it.

“I think I want a party,” Leigh announces. It’s met with astonishment, as if it’s the last thing her family’s expecting to hear.

“You do?” Amy.

“A party?” Jules.

Leigh isn’t perturbed by their reactions. “I do. I want a party,” she confirms. She delights at the dumb look on their faces as she reiterates, “Tonight. I want a big party.”

-

“You’re not having a big party.”

Danny calls her up the minute he gets her Facebook invite. He's partly furious about receiving the invite through Facebook, given that they’re “kind of seeing each other”, and partly incredulous because he couldn’t believe she’s making plans on her birthday without considering the fact that they are “kind of seeing each other”.

Leigh, phone wedged between her shoulder and ear as she flips through a recipe book on her kitchen counter, rolls her eyes so hard she worries they might stick that way. 

“Well, yes, Danny, that's exactly what I'm doing,” she fires back matter-of-factly.

Danny's frustration simmers on the other end of the line. He had already made plans, not bothering to consult Leigh because he assumed that their day would be spent together—privately, just the two of them.

“You didn’t think I’d have something planned?” he asks, more hurt than angry.

“Why would I think that?”

“Because we’re dating, Leigh,” he says, appalled that he needs to remind her. Leigh takes a second, biting her lip. Maybe it was a bit inconsiderate that she didn’t consider Danny when she impulsively decided she wanted a big celebration. But that flicker of guilt is short lived. 

After all, she couldn’t remember the last time she’s actually excited for something, the last time she thought, I deserve to be happy. 

“Yeah, well, I can still do what I want, Danny,” she retorts.

“Now you’re acting like a child,” he snaps.

Leigh feels a flash of anger, then something else—determination. “Maybe so. Come to the party or not, I don’t care. I'm going to have fun, Danny, with or without you.”

“Fine. Just don’t—”

Leigh doesn’t let him finish. With a press of a button, the call ends, his words cut off mid-sentence. Too often, she’s been criticized for not always following through with her declarations, but it's a different game when she's out to prove something.

-

Drew steps carefully around a minefield of clothes and makeup scattered on the floor to get to Leigh. She's curled up over her laptop, one leg propped on the chair, chin on her knee, in a posture that makes Drew wince. “For a fitness instructor, you're not exactly a poster child for back health,” he says, announcing himself to his best friend.

Leigh's head snaps up at Drew's voice, but instead of annoyance, a smirk quickly spreads across her face. “Good thing I'm not a fitness instructor anymore, then,” she says. Then she turns her attention back to her laptop as if he’s not there. Drew moves to sit on the edge of her bed, flops down on it like a ragdoll and stares at the cobwebs on the corners of the ceiling. 

“I know what you’ve been doing, Leigh,” he says.

Leigh is unphased, keeps typing. Then, as if she’s just heard his remark, mutters a distracted, “What have I been doing?”

“Avoiding. You've been avoiding writing about anything that's even remotely related to love or grief,” Drew says.

This time, Leigh stops typing. She sighs, a long, drawn-out exhale that seems to carry the weight of the world. “I’m busy, Drew. This gig is eating up all my time.” 

After leaving the Beautiful Beast, she took on a part-time job as a remote project manager. With Matt gone, she's left to deal with the debts they racked up together. She loved her studio job, really did, and wasn't fazed by the slim paycheck because it helped her mom out. Being surrounded by family has been a huge support (despite her occasional squabbles with Jules), but she knows she'll need to move out on her own again at some point. Ultimately, the pressing need for financial stability has pushed her to seek out better-paying opportunities.

Drew straightens up, leaning in with his elbows on his knees. “Bullshit.”

Leigh looks over her shoulder at him with mild irritation. “What do you want me to say, Drew?”

“You're meeting your weekly quota on other topics,” he points out. “Makes me wonder if bringing you back to the advice column was…premature.”

It sounds like a threat, but coming from him, she understands it as an early warning in case the senior editor begins to notice the issue. Leigh smiles thinly, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Why does it even matter which topics I choose to engage with? First off, I'm collaborating with other writers now; it's not entirely my show anymore. Secondly, I've been doing a good job—”

“A great job, actually.”

Leigh tilts her head, genuinely puzzled. “So, what's the problem?”

“They're expecting you to lead on those topics because you've lived through them. They're looking for more authenticity in the pieces,” Drew explains. 

Leigh looks out the window, seemingly lost in thought, then shakes her head slightly. “What, you want me to write about how I started picking fights left and right after Matt died? Do you want me to detail my attempts at fixing his depression, as if it were as manageable as setting a broken bone?”

“You don’t have to delve into the most personal details.”

“It can’t be authentic if it’s not personal,” Leigh sneers. 

“Just think about it, okay?” Drew presses, a little desperately.

Leigh chews on the inside of her cheek, mulling it over. There's a whole part of her story she hasn't even touched on with him—the string of one-night stands with Danny, the way she's snapped at anyone who dared to disagree with her in the past few weeks. She's been on edge, not really liking the person she's been, and the thought of putting that version of herself out there for everyone to see is nothing short of humiliating. 

As a writer, she knows what to say, the same way a psychologist would know what to do even if they don’t need to have all sorts of human experience to help someone in every situation. But she also questions her right to preach behavior to others when she's far from having it all figured out herself. Regardless of her indecision, she knows Drew’s not going to drop it until she at least tells him she’ll consider.

“Fine,” she says, with a nod. “I'll sift through the inbox and tackle the ones I feel up to.”

“There you go, that's my girl,” Drew says, visibly relaxing. But then, a moment later, he feels a stab of guilt for showing up mostly because of work. It's been a while since they've hung out, their usual brunch dates falling through one after the other, and their daily chats have shriveled up to a few messages a week, with mostly just memes from Leigh that Drew hardly ever acknowledges. Eventually, Leigh just stopped sending them.

Drew fidgets, avoiding eye contact for a second before it dawns on him—he hasn't just been busy; he's been dodging Leigh on purpose ever since he popped the question to his partner. He was worried Leigh wouldn’t take the news well, considering the things she’s been going through. But if he’s being brutally honest with himself, a part of him just didn't want her grief to dampen his excitement. He was worried her sadness might dampen his spirits, and in a bid to preserve his own happiness, he’d left her out in the cold. He hadn't stopped to think that maybe he owed Leigh more than just her column.

“So, uh, how’s it going?” Drew asks cautiously.

“It’s going,” Leigh offers. Heartfelt talks aren't their thing, so Leigh decides to brush it off fast. “By the way, I'm throwing a birthday party for myself.” It comes out a bit more cheerfully than she feels.

“A party? That's great, Leigh!” Drew exclaims. “And hey, if you need help setting up or anything, just let me know.”

“Yeah,” she forces a smile, not as enthusiastic as she was about the idea at breakfast. “It's tonight, though. You're coming, right? And bring anyone fun you know.”

“Wow, OK,” Drew nods before his face morphs into a grin, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So, is this where you're planning to hard launch your new relationship? At your party?”

Leigh’s eyes sharpen into slits. “You know about Danny?”

“Jules told me,” he says.

Rolling her eyes, Leigh retorts, “Let me guess, she told you so you'd join the haters club?”

“Nah,” Drew shrugs, his smile bright and sunny. “Danny's okay, I guess. If you're happy, I'm happy.”

She hasn’t been not happy lately. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, but it sure beats being on her own. So maybe she is—or at least, on her way.

“Thanks, Drew,” she murmurs thoughtfully.

Drew makes himself comfy, chin in hand, looking like he's all set for one of their marathon catch-ups. "So, how did you and Danny even start? Tell me everything."

-

Leigh's trunk is a one-can band, banging and clanging with every turn. Her groceries create a beat, something to fill in the lack of sound in her car. It’s how she drives these days—in utter silence. Before, she wouldn't even think of heading out without the perfect playlist, which often took her an extra five to fifteen minutes after settling into the driver's seat. But these days, as soon as the key is in the ignition, she twists it and takes off, not even waiting for the car to warm up.

Organizing a party by herself (with Jules' indispensable assistance, of course) and extending invites to her entire Facebook friends list has turned into quite the ruse. She's seasoned enough to temper her expectations—knowing well that not everyone who RSVP'd “yes” will show, and that some who didn't bother to RSVP might just surprise her by showing up. So, she's stocked up on as much food as her sedan can hold.

While Leigh's mind wanders to what snacks to whip up and what sauces to pair them with, she accidentally ends up on a lane that forces a left turn instead of going straight. This little misstep means she's got to take the scenic route home, which, by pure coincidence, takes her right past your clinic's street.

Her heartbeat quickens, though it shouldn't. There's no reason for it. She hasn't seen you in a month, not since the night she made a bold declaration on her bedroom door.

Leigh never planned on actually liking you as a person. Initially, her motive was purely to get a closer look, to dissect what it was about you that caught Matt's eye, what you possessed that she lacked. However, the answer to that mystery didn't remain elusive for long after spending a little time with you. You had this kindness about you, soft and easy, something Leigh’s always found just out of her reach. She prides herself on being decent enough but next to you, she feels a bit more like sandpaper to your silk.

Matt was like that too—gentle, easygoing. Leigh is well aware of her own rough edges, her sharp corners that don't quite align with Matt's smoother ones—and, by extension, yours. You and Matt had more in common than just interests; you both saw and reacted to the world in similar ways. Finding out that you and Matt were alike in important ways, in ways she wasn't, is something she's still learning to cope with.

As she nears your clinic, her eyes instinctively search it out, a habit she can't seem to break. 

This time, her timing is impeccable; just as she glides by, you step outside with a puppy in your arms, licking your face all over. You catch sight of her car from a distance, and you couldn’t stop the surprise that flashes across your face. As she drives past, you give her a little wave, puppy still in tow. Leigh cracks a small smile, then throws on her aviators, maybe trying to hide a bit more than her eyes. She sneaks one last look in the rearview, catching you watching her car disappear down the street before you head back into the clinic.

-

As soon as she gets home and is safely out of the car, she opens her messages.

The last text you sent her says, “I'm sorry. I hope we can still be friends,” sent three days after the encounter in her bedroom. She didn't respond to it, and you didn't push any further or impose yourself on her.

She wishes she had at least reacted with a heart or sent a smiley face to your message. Maybe then, inviting you to her party tonight wouldn’t feel so awkward. Nevertheless, she manages to type out a quick invite and extends to you the courtesy of bringing a plus one, someone you believe would be good company.

Your response arrives within five seconds of her hitting send.

“Thank you, I'll be sure to drop by :)” - Y/N

Satisfied, Leigh sets her phone aside. Now, she can focus on making those Deviled eggs.

-

The dress she's pulled from Jules's closet is a bold choice: deep black with a plunging neckline and a hem that flirts with daring. It's sexy, but not quite Leigh's usual style—and that's exactly why she loves it. It clings to her in all the right places, promising a confidence that Leigh isn't entirely sure she feels. Her hair, which is normally pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail, hangs loose and wavy. She tops off her outfit with a slick of red lipstick and layers of dark eyeliner. 

With about an hour to spare before her guests are due to arrive, Leigh decides it's the perfect time to follow through on a promise she made to Drew. She logs into the shared inbox of the advice column she co-manages with two other writers at Basically News. Leigh scrolls through the submissions, Drew’s words playing on repeat in her head. He had a point. Maybe people don't always need the right answers—answers she hardly uses herself. Perhaps what they really need is someone to affirm what they're already feeling, to say it's okay to follow their gut, to be themselves.

She reads an interesting entry from one EspressoEyes:

“Do you think it's too much for me to give a puppy to this woman I like? I'm not even sure she likes me back (or like me in general 😣), but it's her birthday, and I feel like a puppy could be exactly what she needs at this moment.”

Leigh reads the message, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. Personally, she muses, she'd welcome a puppy from just about anyone. But that's just her, especially with the rollercoaster of a year she's had—she's at a point where the gesture, no matter who it comes from, would be a welcome slice of joy.

Thinking it over, she starts replying, “A puppy is a big gesture—it can be an overwhelming gift for some. It might even be seen as too forward, especially in certain relationships.Yet, a gift is a gift. Sometimes, you need to just go for it, without apologies. If her feelings don't align, she'll let you know. She has to, because giving a puppy is essentially a love declaration, in case you hadn't realized. And who knows? She might feel the same about you. Just make sure she's actually up for the responsibility of a pet. They're for life, not just for birthdays.”

She signs off with her pen name—Gigi Herrel—a clever anagram of her name as it would have been had she taken Matt's last name in marriage: Leigh Greer. Though it never quite felt like her own. She only used it when she came back to Basically News in obeisance to his passing. Drew has granted her the autonomy to publish her responses without his oversight (“Just make sure your grammar is perfect,” he said), so Leigh doesn’t think twice before publishing her response.

Leigh moves on to browse through other submissions, this time, on those related to marriage and loss—the very subjects she promised Drew she would tackle. She’s been in those shoes, still feels like she's wearing them. With a deep breath, she clicks on one and dives right into it. Her first attempt at a response feels inadequate, prompting her to hit delete and start anew. This process repeats itself, one draft after another, until she has five versions sitting in front of her, none of which feel right. With a huff, she deletes them all.

Just then the doorbell rings, pulling her out of her advice-column vortex. Leigh glances around, momentarily disoriented. It takes her a moment to recall that there's a party happening downstairs, and she's meant to be enjoying herself.

-

She’s halfway down the stairs when Jules's eyes land on her. Leigh freezes, as if she’s been caught red-handed. “I…couldn’t find the coupon for borrowing your clothes.”

Jules just smirks and arches an eyebrow, taking in Leigh in her dress. “Oh please, as if I ever keep track. Besides, that was just gathering dust after my ‘slutty Halloween phase’ as you so lovingly called it.”

“Cool! Perfect!” Leigh says, ignoring the backhanded comment. Her focus immediately turns to the front door as another guest arrives. “Hey, Dad!” she calls out.

Leigh’s dad walks in with his partner, and she greets them with a warmth that's been rare these days. He hands her a large, beautifully wrapped box. Leigh grasps the gift with both hands, shaking it gently, much like a child on Christmas morning. She’s thanking them when an old friend from high school she hasn’t seen in forever walks through the door, a bottle of wine in hand. Her mom swoops in like a hawk, reminding everyone it's a dry party in support of Jules's sobriety, and the wine is swiftly traded for a mocktail.

For the next hour, the house fills up. Leigh finds herself out back, tending to snacks, when a small line of people forms to chat with her. They each ask if she’s doing okay, their condolences tucked neatly between cheerful birthday wishes. Leigh’s smiling, but it's so fake even she is not buying it, mentally blacklisting half of these people for next time.

Just when the parade of condolence callers is beginning to fray her patience, one of her actual favorite humans finally shows up, saving her mood from souring completely. Drew looks striking in a simple black polo shirt, so much so that it reminds Leigh of the time Matt got all jealous over him, until Leigh let him in on the secret that he plays for the other team.

He passes her a little envelope, his birthday offering—a gift card. Leigh’s barely expressed her thanks over the simple present when he jumps right into feedback on her latest advice column. 

“Read your puppy counsel on my way here. It felt a bit... casual, don’t you think?”

Leigh smirks up at him, arms crossed, the gift card crinkling between her forearms. “Just say it's terrible advice if that's what you mean.”

Drew purses his lips before relenting. “Fine. It was terrible advice.”

“Expect more of that if I tackle the stuff I’ve been avoiding. Still think it’s a good idea?” Leigh says, nodding like it’s exactly what she wants to hear. Drew lets out a sigh, swiftly steering the conversation away before their playful banter escalates into a disagreement. With Leigh, he knows all too well that the edge of an argument is always closer than it seems.

“Anyway, happy birthday, again,” he says, trying to lighten the mood again. “Ryan's tied up with work stuff, totally wiped, but he did wish you a happy birthday.”

Leigh’s face hardens slightly at the mention of Ryan. She’s been harboring this nagging thought that Ryan dislikes her, a suspicion fueled by a criticism she once shared with Drew in confidence, suspecting Drew might have passed it along. Drew, seeing her expression change, doesn’t rush to correct her assumption.

“He hates me,” Leigh concludes before Drew can even get a word out.

“He doesn’t—”

“What I don’t understand is why you couldn’t have kept it between us?” she demands, feeling betrayed.

“Because Ryan’s my person. I tell him everything. That’s how being in a marriage works,” he says, but the moment he sees Leigh's face fall, he wishes he could retract those words.

Leigh bristles, her voice rising, “I know how being married works!”

She's livid, because that should go without saying. How dare he imply that she no longer knows, now that she's only half of a whole—her best friend, of all people.

Drew exhales coolly, as if trying to douse the proverbial fire between them. “Why does it seem like we're always either fighting or about to fight?” he wonders aloud.

Leigh’s anger softens into something more reflective, and she sighs, the fight draining out of her. “I don’t mean to...” She trails off, searching for the right words. “It’s like I’m always ready for a battle. I don’t know why. It’s like I’m expecting it, waiting for it, at the end of every day.”

Drew lets the moment breathe, waiting for both of them to deflate completely before tacitly reaching out behind Leigh for a snack. “These are great, by the way,” he says between bites, acting like they hadn’t just been at each other's throats.

Leigh tries to match Drew’s candidness, but inside, she’s reeling. It bothers her, this pattern they’ve fallen into—her temper flaring up, followed by a quick brush-off, as if these outbursts are merely now a part of who she is. She hates that she’s become predictable in her volatility, that her explosions are met with a shrug and a wait-out-the-clock mentality from those around her. She’s tired of it, tired of being seen as a ticking time bomb, her anger and hurt dismissed as just Leigh being Leigh, waiting for the reset button to be hit so the countdown can start all over again.

But it's her birthday, and she's brought these people together on a Tuesday night for fun. She didn't gather everyone just to tell them, once and for all, that they need to stop acting as if her husband just died.

So, she goes with the flow, laughing when it's her cue, even though deep down, she feels more alone in the crowd than ever.

-

With the absence of alcohol, the party winds down by 11 PM. Guests begin trickling out as early as 10, and by the time Leigh is bidding farewell to the last attendee, she's already donned an apron, ready to take on the mountain of dishes left behind.

Which is to say, showing up right now pretty much means you've missed the whole party.

Pulling up in front of Leigh's house, the night already deep into its quiet hours, you’re running on the adrenaline of the day's emergencies. Two cases back-to-back at the clinic, one of them diving straight into surgery, left you no choice but to push everything else to the side. Suzie, who was meant to join you as your plus one, ends up stuck back at work, tending to a recovering St. Bernard, so it's just you and the sleeping puppy on your lap now. For her sacrifice, you promise to take her out to a nice lunch one of these days.

The puppy starts wagging its tail in its sleep, and you look down with a smile at the little dreamer. The decision to give Leigh the puppy wasn't made lightly. You've been turning the idea in your mind for a while now. Initially, you didn't even realize her birthday was coming up, and the invitation to her party caught you off guard, especially considering the somewhat unresolved way things were left between you two weeks ago. The timing of her birthday, your rocky history, it all made you second-guess whether a puppy was a good idea. In search of a voice outside your own head, you turned to a favorite advice column you often read in your spare time. To your surprise, your submission was picked up by one of the columnists, and the response you got wasn't just advice; it was the push you needed. You were lucky to be able to catch their answer, just before you got home to change for Leigh’s birthday party.

Trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach, you give yourself a quick once-over in the rearview mirror and apply a fresh swipe of nude-colored lipstick. With one last look, you carefully step out of the car, the sleeping puppy nestled securely in your arms. The moment you move, it stirs, burrowing deeper into your armpit, seeking refuge from the light of the street lamps.

Everything's too quiet as you walk up to Leigh's house. You anticipated some noise, music or chatter—anything to indicate the party was in full swing. But there are none. Could you have missed the party? Or worse, did Leigh get the date wrong on her invite? Hesitantly, you press the doorbell, instantly regretting it, thinking you might be waking up the whole house.

Just as you're about to bail, the door swings open and it's Jules.

“Y/N!” Jules nearly trips over herself getting to you, eyes wide when she spots the furball you’re holding. 

“Hi Jules,” you mutter sheepishly.

“Is that a…” she squeaks out, already reaching for a cuddle before you've even nodded. Jules is all over the puppy, who seems just as happy to be the center of attention. After a while, she looks up, a bit more composed but still glowing. 

“I didn’t know Leigh invited you. Too bad, you just missed the party. But you should definitely come in and say hi to Leigh,” she says. You want nothing more than to see Leigh again, even if only for a brief moment, just to accomplish what you came here for and perhaps wish her a happy birthday. But with the party over and you potentially being the only guest, it feels like walking into a situation you don’t think you’re prepared enough for.

Then, as the puppy licks Jules' face off, she pauses and looks at you funny. It clicks for her—no collar, no leash, just you and this puppy who appear no more than two months old.

“Oh my gosh, is this for Leigh?” Jules gasps.

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I-If she wants him.”

Jules looks at you, then at the puppy, her smile blinding. “Well, I want him. But if she doesn’t, I’ll be more than happy to be his mommy.”

You laugh at her enthusiasm. Still feeling skittish, you ask, “Do you think it’s an appropriate gift for Leigh?”

“You're a vet. It's kind of on-brand for you,” Jules quips.

You laugh again. “Really?” you ask, kind of hoping for a more solid reassurance.

Jules considers it for a second, before saying, “I can at least assure you it’s not unwanted.”

Good enough, you think. Jules hands you back the puppy and then says, “She’s in the kitchen. Look, she’s not exactly in a good mood, but I think you should go for it anyway.”

That’s two people egging you to go ahead with your surprise. It must be a sign from the universe. You make up your mind for the final time. “Thanks, Jules,” you say.

“Anytime.”

-

You tread lightly, making sure your footsteps don’t give you away as you approach the kitchen. Leigh is at the sink, doing the dishes, clad in a black dress that skims her thighs, her feet bare against the cool kitchen tiles. Her shoulders are slumped, her movements laconic, as if her body is there, but her mind is miles elsewhere. The expanse of skin revealed by her hair tied up in a high ponytail captivates you, holding you back from announcing your presence. You allow yourself a moment to take her in, thinking this might be the only chance you get to really look at her like this. 

You’re about to say “Hi”, when Leigh whirls around, startling you both. Leigh, not expecting anyone to be there, loses her grip on the plate she's holding, and it smashes loudly against the floor. 

“Jesus!” Leigh’s scream summons Jules and her mom into the kitchen. Meanwhile, you are trying to do damage control—holding the puppy with one hand and attempting to gather the ceramic shards with the other as Leigh continues to stare at you in shock.

Amy, wrapped in her robe, looks from the mess on the floor to you and then to Leigh. “What’s going on here?”

Jules is unfazed, simply watches the entire scene from a corner of the room, smirking. 

Your cheeks flush with shame, and you find yourself grateful to be still seated on the floor, your back turned away from Leigh's family.

“I’m so—” you start, but Leigh cuts you off.

“Okay, everyone just...calm down," Leigh says. She kneels down beside you, her hands joining yours in cleaning up the broken pieces.

“I'm heading to bed,” Jules says and then winks at you. “Happy to see you, Y/N!”

Amy wraps her robe more snugly around herself, then with a small, puzzled shake of her head, says, “Well, good night everyone. And happy birthday again, sweetheart,” before she walks down the hall and out of sight. Leigh gets to her feet, a slight nod of appreciation directed your way as she holds open a trash bag for you to deposit the ceramic shards. That’s when the puppy finally catches her attention. 

“And who's this little guy?” she asks, a smile starting to play at the corners of her mouth.

You clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. He’s yours if you want him. Don’t worry about refusing, there’s someone lined up to take him in case you’re not—”

But Leigh’s already gently taking the puppy from your arms, instantly cradling and bouncing him as though he’s a tiny human baby. It’s a sight both funny and utterly endearing, and you can’t help but let out a soft chuckle, feeling your heart grow a size or two.

“Who wouldn't want him? He's perfect,” Leigh says, her eyes not leaving him as he nestles comfortably in her arms. Hearing those words, you feel a wave of relief wash over you. She doesn't find it odd; she's already falling for him.

“Happy birthday,” you tell her, and when she looks at you, her smile is so bright it could light up the whole night. Right there is everything you hoped for. All you really wanted was to see her happy.

“Thank you so much,” she murmurs, clutching the puppy tighter to her chest. Then, cocking her head to the side, she inquires, “What's his name?”

The grin on your lips can’t be helped, and you’re hoping she wouldn’t see just how much she’s having an effect on you. “I haven’t named him yet. He was always meant to be yours, Leigh,” you say.

Her smile just gets bigger as she gazes down at the little furball in her arms, and you think this is exactly how things were supposed to go down. It’s one of those rare moments where reality lines up perfectly with expectation. 

“I think I’ll call him Logan.”

-

You and Leigh retire to the living room after she kindly offers to make you decaf. As you settle onto opposite ends of the couch, tucking your feet under you, Logan instinctively takes shelter in Leigh's lap, as if he already knows he belongs there.

“So…Why Logan?” you ask, after making a mental note of how Leigh makes her coffee: one cream, two sugars.

“Well,” Leigh says, her fingers gently stroking Logan’s deep chocolate fur, “he just looks like a little wolverine, doesn’t he? With that color and those defiant little eyes.”

The dots connect in a funny, unexpected sort of way. Leigh and comic books don't seem like the most likely pair. 

“Ah, like the X-Men character. I didn’t know you were a comic book fan,” you say.

She laughs, a sound that’s light and free of any shadows. “Oh, I wasn’t. Not really. It was all Matt. He had this massive collection, and he was pretty obsessed. I guess some of it rubbed off on me after all.” The mention of Matt doesn’t bring clouds into her eyes like you expected. She talks about him like she’s looking at something distant but dear.

“Thought you were bailing on me tonight,” Leigh , almost casual but there’s this undercurrent, like she’s really saying she’s glad you didn’t.

“I’m sorry. I got stuck at the clinic longer than expected.” Leaving her waiting, especially today, was never part of the plan. Your work as a vet often means unpredictable hours, but you hadn't expected it to stretch so far into the evening.

“It’s okay, you didn’t miss much.” 

Her casual dismissal makes you wonder, but not wanting to pry too much, you shift slightly, asking, “So, how did it go? Did you enjoy yourself at least?”

Leigh simply smiles and shrugs, an action that speaks volumes without giving much away. “This,” she nods down at Logan, “getting him from you, feels more like my birthday than anything else today.”

The conversation that follows is easy, skipping over the day-to-day stuff—nothing deep, but you're both there—really there—and it's nice. It feels like a fresh start, and you're deeply thankful for the second chance she's offering you. You promise yourself you won't mess it up this time. 

But just as you’re both delving into more personal topics, someone rings the doorbell. Logan perks up, his head tilted, ears alert. Leigh gives you a look, as if saying she's not expecting anyone else to show up this late at night. She puts the puppy down on the floor and when she opens the door, it’s Danny, looking sorry for himself. He’s holding a bouquet of roses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. It seems as though he has the whole evening planned out in his head—apologize, crack open the wine, and maybe be invited to Leigh’s bedroom afterwards.

Danny’s eyes find you and his face falls a bit. He wasn’t expecting company, certainly not you. “Leigh, can we talk?” he asks, then looks pointedly at you. “Alone?”

Leigh looks torn for a moment, glancing your way as if she's not ready to let you out of her sight. She insists it'll just be a minute, but you can read the room. This is something they need to sort out without you playing third wheel.

“It’s all good, I'll head out,” you tell her though you're staring Danny down, making sure he knows it’s not because of him that you’re leaving. Leigh either misses the whole glare-off or decides to stay out of it. Logan tries to follow you as you make for the door. It’s hard leaving him behind, but you know he’ll be happy to have found his forever home. You kneel down, giving Logan a soft kiss on the head, promising him you’ll be back soon. And then you turn to Leigh, a question at the tip of your tongue but she already knows what you’re going to ask. 

“You can see Logan anytime,” she says with a faint smile. “I might need your help with him sooner than you think.”

The moment you close the door behind you, Leigh's jaw sets in a firm line, bracing herself to confront Danny. Her main priority is to get Logan settled, so she decides that forgiving Danny might be the quickest way to send him on his way. But Danny’s focus now isn’t on apologies or making it up to her. He’s fixated on Logan, his brows knitting together in confusion and, curiously, a bit of annoyance. 

“Who gave you that?” he asks Leigh as if he’s just referring to an inanimate object lying around the house. He sounds like he's almost accusing her of something, and Leigh's baffled. 

“A friend gave him to me,” she says, nodding towards the door you've just walked out of. Danny's face twists up in an instant, like a storm cloud bursting. “A friend,” he repeats, and the way he says it, it’s clear he’s not just asking. He’s fuming with jealousy, and Leigh can’t wrap her head around why.

A gift is just a gift, right? Why would…

Oh.

Earlier, while she was reviewing submissions for the advice column, someone asked if giving a puppy as a birthday gift to someone they're interested in would be a good idea. She remembers how she happily encouraged them, telling them to go for it.

At this realization, Danny, the puppy, and everything else slide to the back burner. The only thing occupying her mind now is the deep, dark brown hue of your eyes, like rich espresso.

EspressoEyes. That's how the person behind the submission signed off. It's like a lightbulb moment, but softer—like waking up slow.

It's you.

Oh.

[juniperskye]

Stick to What You Know.

Sneak peek: Reader is asked to join the BAU by none other than Director Cruz himself. She is a child psychologist and Cruz thought she would make a great asset; it would seem though that Agent Hotchner doesn’t agree.

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) Reader

Angst

Word count: 3134

Guys...I feel like this is shit, I wrote it in like 3 hours soo…. it’s not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, implied age gap, some language, one use of y/n I think, Hotch is a DICK in this for a minute (SORRY), reader has children, talk of dissociative identity disorder (in reference to a case), canon case talk/info, mention of murder (in reference to a case), Reader in a child psychologist, reader is friends with Director Mateo Cruz, implied death of Haley. I think that’s all, let me know if I missed anything!!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You were so late. You were thanking the lord that you knew Mateo well from having previously worked with him, otherwise your lateness would probably come across as a lack of seriousness or appreciation for the strings he had pulled to get you here. And of course, being lost in thought while simultaneously rushing through an unfamiliar building had you barreling into a handsome stranger…or maybe a handsome acquaintance.

“I am so sorry!” You’d hurried out.

His large hands steadied you with a gentle but firm grasp on your arms. Your eyes glance upward to meet his.

“No worries, are you alright?” He offered.

“I’m good thank you. Wait, you’re Aaron Hotchner, I’ve sat in on a few of your lectures at the university.”

“I am, and thank you, I hope you were able to take something from them.”  He blushed.

“I did, oh shoot sorry! I have to go; I am so late!” You said, speed walking away from him.

Aaron couldn’t help but watch as you walked away from him. And you couldn’t help but think to yourself that he was far more handsome up close.

After explaining your tardiness to Mateo, he led you to the sixth floor to officially meet your new team. The rest of them anyway.

“Mat, you told them I was joining right? I ran into Agent Hotchner, and he didn’t show any signs of recognition. And I told you I didn’t want to join a team who wasn’t ready and willing to have me.” You ranted.

“Yes I told him, you have nothing to worry about.” He lied. “You head down into the bullpen and meet the agents; I will go up and talk to Agent Hotchner.”

You nodded in agreement and made your way to Emily and Spencer.  You exchanged greetings, and Emily took you around to meet everyone else.

“Director Cruz, what can I do for you?” Hotch asked.

“I have a new recruit for you. She will be starting today.” Mateo gestured toward the window.

Aaron glanced out, finding the beautiful woman from this morning standing amongst his team. Morgan must’ve tried to charm her because she threw her head back in laughter with the most beautiful smile. Why her? Why did she have to be joining his team?

“Why didn’t I receive her file?”

“Truthfully Aaron, I didn’t have it together. She and I have worked together on some classified cases. But I have a file here with some of her info.  She specializes in child psychology which is something your team is lacking, I figured that she could work with your team on all of your child related cases, but then can occasionally consult with other teams should they need her expertise.” Mateo explained.

“Okay.”

It had been three months since then, and things had not been going well. You had gone on all but one case with the BAU since you’d started. Every single time, Aaron kept you at the local precincts, not allowing you out on any real field work – this was hindering your ability to do your job effectively. You needed to observe the unsub’s home and belongings and dumpsites etc. but he was denying you the opportunity.

The rest of the team had been nothing but welcoming, inviting you into their little family with open arms. None of them could have predicted that Hotch would ice you out the way he was.

Every time you offered a theory or statistic or any sort of information, Hotch shut you down. He would belittle you, constantly making you feel small, and he purposely called you agent instead of referring to you as doctor and well, why should today be any different.

You had been called out on a case and based on all the information the team had acquired so far, you had a pretty good working theory.

JJ, Spencer, and you had been sitting in the room the local precinct had designated as yours for the duration of the case.

“I have an idea…it’s a little out there but hear me out,” You started, your gaze shifting to JJ and Spencer, who both encouraged you to continue. “Okay, so some of the details in this case match, while others are all over the place, like the MO is essentially the same but some of the victims’ injuries show signs of hesitation where others show none, I know hotch mentioned multiple unsubs, but what if it is one unsub, with multiple personalities.”

“Like dissociative identity disorder. You know that would make a lot of sense considering people with DID tend to have highly varying alters or identities. They can range in race, gender, age which would explain why the murders have been so different, it would also explain why the comfort zone is so small.” Spencer validated you.

“See that’s what I was thinking too, they would want to stay close to home in the case that perhaps there was a switch in alter, that way they would be somewhere familiar and be able to return home…”

“That’s enough Agent!” Hotch’s voice boomed through the small room. “I have put up with this for far too long. You came in here unannounced and have continued to provide absolutely ridiculous theories that do nothing but waste our time and resources…”

“Hotch” JJ tried to calm him.

He lifted his hand to silence her before continuing, “You have continued to get in the way of my investigations again and again and I won’t have it anymore. Cruz spoke so highly of you and frankly I don’t see it. I’m sorry if I’m the first one to tell you this agent, but perhaps you should stick to what you know.” Hotch finished.

There was no way in hell that you were going to let yourself cry in front of this asshole. You refused to let him win in this moment.

“You know what Agent Hotchner, I have done nothing but work my ass off for this team and I have provided valuable feedback and information that has led to the capture of multiple unsubs over the last few months. But if you want to sit up there on your high horse and act all delusional, go ahead. I don’t want to be a part of a team who is led by someone so pompous and misogynistic. And one last thing, if you are going to sit there and berate me then you will address me properly. It’s Doctor, not agent…I know that may be hard to remember since it’s a title you don’t hold. Goodnight.” With that you grabbed your jacket and bag and made your way outside.

You ordered an uber and made your way back to the hotel. The nerve Hotch seemed to have filled you with rage, but you wouldn’t stick around to entertain his outburst any longer, you had a call to make.

“Hello?”

“Mat, I need a flight home.” You said, the tears finally beginning to fall.

“Is everything okay? What happened?” Mateo questioned.

“It’s fine, I just have a personal emergency and I need to get home as soon as possible.”

“Sure thing, I am booking your flight now, can you be at the airport in two hours?” He asked.

“Yes, that’s perfect. Thank you.”

With that you hung up the phone, packed your bag, ordered another uber and made your way outside. You were purposely ignoring the texts coming in from Spencer and JJ. You made sure to slide a note under Spence’s door before leaving.

“Has anyone seen y/n this morning?” Dave asked.

“She left.” Spencer confirmed, holding up the note.

“What why? Is she okay?” Emily asked, concern laced in her tone.

“I can’t blame her. You guys should have seen it, Hotch yelled at her. And I mean full on yelled. I’ve never heard him speak that way to anyone before.” JJ chimed in.

“What are you talking about? He yelled at her. About what?” Morgan questioned.

“He completely flew off the handle. She and Spence were going over a theory about the unsub and he just started yelling, telling her that she was wasting our time and resources.”

The team was in disbelief, Hotch wasn’t mean or condescending, so why was he acting this way now? How could he treat arguably the sweetest member of the team so disrespectfully?

Dave shook his head; he was pretty sure he knew exactly why Aaron was acting out this way. He just couldn’t believe that Aaron had said such harsh things to the girl. His heart broke for her knowing that someone she idolized had been so awful to her, and for all the wrong reasons.

The team had wrapped up that case fairly quickly, you had been right, and the unsub turned out to be a nineteen-year-old male who had been struggling with dissociative identity disorder. Hotch had felt uneasy knowing that he had questioned your intelligence, despite you being an excellent agent.

Upon returning to the BAU, Dave was sure to confront Aaron about his inappropriate behavior.  Telling him that he couldn’t treat you terribly just because he couldn’t wrap his brain around the feelings for you he was refusing to acknowledge. Aaron had scoffed at him and told him that he didn’t have feelings for you, but Dave knew he was lying.

You had quite a different experience since returning. The first thing you did was cry, you let yourself release all the pent-up frustration you’d been holding onto since you had started at the BAU. Then, you texted Mat, letting him know that you needed to meet with him.

He was curious and waiting for answers, but he ultimately agreed and waited to ask all his questions until you were face to face.

“So, what’s up? This meeting request was so formal.” Mat laughed.

“I know and I am sorry I have been so vague about everything, but I am here to resign.”

Mat’s smile fell from his face immediately.

“What happened? Did something happen, because I promise you I have looked into the complaints filed against Agent Morgan and Ms. Garcia and I can assure you, they just have a strange friendship.” Mateo tried to explain.

“Mat, slow down! It isn’t like that. I just don’t think it is a good fit, there’s just too many differences between how I work and how the team operates. It’s okay really.” You tried to smile to really sell your lie.

“Well, I can’t help but be disappointed, I really thought that you would be a perfect fit for this team.” Mateo trailed off.

“I know and I am so sorry. I know you had to pull a ton of strings to get me here and I don’t want it to seem like I am not grateful because I can assure you, I am!”

“I know, and it’s alright! If it’s not a good fit then it’s not a good fit.” Mateo flashed you a sad smile.

A few weeks had passed since you had left the BAU, and truly, you had been doing well! You had spent some much-needed time with your family. You had reached out to a good friend of yours and inquired about a job teaching at the local university, which you were truly looking forward to. It had also meant that you would have a free summer to spend some quality time with your kids.

Tonight, you had one of your best friends over, your kids had grown up together and so you liked to do these big “family” dinners together at least once a month, that however meant chaos in the house. Kids yelling, teenagers gossiping, dinner burning…I guess that means you’ll be ordering a pizza.

Your friend and you had been talking about your new job and the excitement you were feeling for it, a movie long forgotten playing in the background, the kids were playing some card game you didn’t recognize when the doorbell rang.

“Oh, I bet that’s the pizza!” You said, making your way to the door.

“I left the cash on the table there!” Your friend shouted.

“Hi…Oh. What the hell are you doing here?” Shock painted its way across your face. Standing at your door was not the pizza delivery guy, but Aaron Hotchner.

“I uh, I came here to talk to you. I know that I do not deserve your time, but I am truly hoping you’ll allow me a few minutes to explain myself.”

“Dude, do you need help or…oh, shit. Sorry! Did you guys need a minute?” Your friend interrupted.

“Um” your gaze shifted from Aaron to your friend. “Agent Hotchner, why don’t we go to the back. Can you keep an eye out for the pizza?” You suggested.

“Of course! You go.” She replied.

Aaron and you made your way to the backyard, in doing so he took note of all the children sitting in the living room, sprawled out across the floor and couches.

“I didn’t know you had children.” Aaron started.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Is that why you came here agent Hotchner? To see my home and profile me?” You questioned him.

“No of course not! I was making an observation. I’m sorry. Like I said, I am here to explain my behavior, none of which will excuse how I acted but I am hoping it might help you to understand some of it.” His gaze shifted around your face. “From the moment I first laid my eyes on you, I knew I was ruined. You were breathtaking, even when you plowed right into me in your rush to the director’s office. You bumped into me and God, then you looked up at me with those big, beautiful eyes and I was a goner. But then you said something to me, and I knew I was done for. Do you remember what you said?”

“I apologized and then I told you I’d gone to some of your lectures. Hold on Agent Hotchner are you saying you were horrible to me because you had a crush on me? What are we? Seven-year-olds on the playground! That is such bullshi….” He didn’t let you finish.

“Hold on. You did mention that you had been to my lectures, but it was what you said as you walked away that had me hooked…you said, “he’s far more handsome up close” and I don’t think you meant to say it out loud, but at that moment I told myself that I was ready. I was ready to move on and I was going to ask you out later that day, but then you walked into the bullpen and Cruz said you’d be a part of the BAU, and I knew it wouldn’t be possible. I couldn’t date my subordinate and I didn’t know what to do, you had called me handsome and I…”

“Now wait a minute! I didn’t mean to say that out loud and this still isn’t…”

“I’m not finished. You had some sort of attraction for me even if it was just an appreciation for my looks. I already had it bad for you, and to top it all off, you came in and just had to be the sweetest, most loving person in the BAU and I couldn’t have you. It wouldn’t be appropriate. I figured the easiest thing to do would be to make you hate me, then I’d be able to shake these feelings for you, but no. You continued to be kind to me, even if I was awful to you and I couldn’t take it. My breaking point was the look on your face after I yelled at you on that last case. I felt sick with myself. I couldn’t leave things like that; I needed you to know that I don’t think those things. You are an incredible agent and an even better person and I’m sorry. I am so sorry.” Aaron finished, looking down at his shoes.

You were speechless. While it felt amazing that the man you had harbored feelings for, returned your feelings. It also felt terrible that he wasn’t mature enough to just be upfront with you from the beginning. Instead, he felt the need to play some arduous game with you. It would be so easy to just throw yourself into his embrace and kiss him and call it all forgotten, but what if this is some insight into his communication skills, or lack thereof?

Your mind and heart were battling one another like an angel and devil on your shoulder. It was a back-and-forth quarrel that seemingly had no correct response, both had the same potential outcomes; you getting your heart broken, regret, potential happiness. What were you meant to do?

“I um, I don’t know what to say. You said some horrible things to me and that doesn’t just go away. Agent Hotchner, we’re adults.”

“Please call me Aaron, or at least Hotch.”

“Aaron we are adults and you acted like a child. Am I meant to just forgive and forget the way you made me feel?”

“No, I would never expect that. I do hope that one day you can forgive me, and if you give me the chance, I would truly love to make it up to you.” He explained.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He questioned.

“Okay, you can make it up to me. And maybe, just maybe I will forgive you. It’s not going to be easy though.” You said.

“I wouldn’t want it to be easy.” He smiled.

“Alright well you can start tomorrow. I’d invite you to stay but this is a family dinner and with all the kids it might be a bit chaotic.” You told him.

“That’s fair.”

You could see the wheels turning in his head, he’s trying to figure out the dynamics of your little family, and maybe you could spare him a little bit of leeway.

“Her and I combined have nine kids. I have five and she has four. And before you ask, only two are biologically mine. A close friend of ours passed and I was listed as the personal guardian for her kids. That’s also how I have a teenager.” You explained. “That’s all you get for now.” You teased.

“I will take what I can get. Thank you, for giving me this chance.” Aaron smiled at you.

You smiled back and led him to the door, not missing the shit-eating grin your friend was wearing on her face. You bid him goodnight with a promise to text him to make some sort of plan. You didn’t know what would come of this, or if you’d end up together, but for now, you didn’t need to know. For now, you’d take it one day at a time.

[lemotmo]

Ask box is still closed but they commented on the deleted scene. First activity from them in days.

Technically I'm still on blog sabbatical but that deleted clip was a wild choice. There's a lot to unpack in that very short scene and none of it is very flattering for Tommy. The medal comment when Hen and Karen asked about his intentions was immature and blatant deflection. It was also cringe, the wtf facial pout he added didn't help. What I don't know though is if the lines are meant to come across as cringey or if his delivery is what's off. And that was just the first cringe moment. He only made it worse after that. Saying they're going slow, and he's letting Buck set the pace was good, he should be following Buck's lead, but then he immediately made a sexual innuendo joke, and yet another wtf facial expression choice. I know the rule tends to be that since it was deleted we can't count it as canon, but knowing that he saw the way Hen and Karen reacted to that conversation, and still followed it up by turning another meaningful conversation attempt, this time by Buck, into another sex joke, an even more immature and gross one, is certainly a writing choice. And clearly a deliberate one.

That wasn't even the most alarming part of that scene though. The diet comment about Buck is a warning siren if ever there was one. That line was concerning because it is absolutely a call back to Buck 1.0 who believed the only thing he could offer anyone was his physical appeal and he was obsessed with keeping his body to a certain standard. The fact that we now have Tommy making multiple comments about their physical relationship, and Buck's appearance, is not good. Especially when you couple those comments with the other scenes of him dismissing Buck's excitement and overzealous personality. None of that spells a healthy relationship for Buck, the character the show cares about. It continues to show Buck's very unhealthy dating pattern of settling for people who are physically attracted to him but don't seem to genuinely like the person he actually is. It's actually kind of fascinating.

I genuinely liked the Tommy of episodes 1-4, probably not coincidentally the length of his originally planned arc. He was written well in those episodes, he worked. I'm also now pretty convinced that those first 4 scripts were kept pretty much intact to when Eddie was the plan. They clearly put effort into him originally. Everything that came after 7x4 went increasingly downhill, and that's because they hadn't actually planned anything for him after that episode. If they had been able to stick with the original Eddie plan he would have been gone after episode 4 because the kiss would have been all that was required to initiate Eddie's spiral. Once they had to swap Eddie for Buck they had to change their plan because Buck was already searching for something so the kiss wasn't going to be enough to make Buck spiral. Which means they still need to get Buck to whatever the plan for him was but now they have to do it through Tommy. They're not going to put effort into Tommy because after 7x4 he became a textbook plot device. His scenes and dialogue are now strictly to move the story forward, and nothing more. It's why he seems so different now. What's interesting is if Buck's spiral is now going to result from him back sliding from all the personel growth he has had since Buck 1.0. All the work Buck has put into growing himself as a person and working on himself. That's why the diet comment was so concerning. It's the old Buck. If he thought figuring out he was bi was the last piece of the puzzle and he should feel 'fixed' now, but Tommy and their relationship still feels mostly physical he may revert back to believing he really doesn't have anything else to offer. A return of Buck 1.0, and a version of himself that Buck has referenced frequently he believes Eddie wouldn't have liked. I'm probably giving the show way too much credit but this would work and it would be fascinating to watch.

Thank you so much for sending this and the next one to me Nonny! :)

A day after the first one, the anonymous OP made another post about the deleted scene. I will paste it here as well, so these two posts can be read together.

I put it under a cut to save all your dashboards from clogging up. :)

All right, so first of all, I agree on so many things in these two posts. In the beginning Tommy was 'okay'. I didn't love him, but he was an okay character and love interest for Buck. But as the show went on he just became worse and worse as a character. To the point where a lot of people who liked him in the beginning actively started disliking and hating him. And most of it is tied in with the way he treats Buck and talks about Buck.

And ultimately I do think this is the whole goal of the show. They are doing their absolute best to show us that Tommy is NOT a good guy and definitely not a good match for Buck. By posting this deleted scene they are once again trying to make that point.

Unfortunately this message just flies over some people's heads and all they see is a this fantasy headcanon Lou told them about. They aren't watching the show as it is, they are actively trying to mold the show and BT into something it isn't.

I can't possibly explain any of this better than the OP, especially the part about Buck's body image. So I'll let them speak, but I agree so much with what they say.

One last thing I personally want to add is this:

Whenever Tommy opens his mouth, everything gets reduced to sexual innuendo and/or a dumb sex joke. And when it isn't about sex, it's him being extremely dismissive and negative in anything he says to Buck or some of the other characters.

This is also a thing that got transferred to the BT fandom in general. Everything Tommy does or says is over sexualised by a lot of the fans, in posts, messages, pictures and fics it quite often boils down to sex.

Now, I have nothing against sex. I realise sex is a part of the human experience, even for fictional characters, but to make it so that all that ties this couple together is sex? That is not what Buck is about. We know that about him. He has canonically been established as someone who is looking for love, a connection, a family...

So, why don't they talk more about the real deep canon love connection BT have on screen? I'll tell you why. It's because there is no canon love connection between them whatsoever. Tommy has no depth as a character. He is there for a specific purpose, a plot device to help Buck navigate his way through a new phase in life. That's it. The only emotional connection Buck and Tommy have is fabricated in, yet again, a Lou cameo headcanon that probably cost 200 dollars.

In the deleted scene between Tommy and Henren we see him at his worst and it's clear that Henren do not like or trust him. And yes, I kinda get why the OP would have wanted that scene in the episode, because it would have shown us -once again- that Tommy's intentions for Buck are mostly just about sex. This isn't anything serious. This is about sex. He tried with Eddie, realised it didn't work so he moved on to Buck when he saw how confused Buck was about whose attention he was trying to get.

I have no doubt he probably likes Buck, but he has no deeper intention beyond the sexual aspect of the relationship.

I said what I said. Don't come at me. This is my blog and I can respectfully blog about my opinion here. No ship hate here. Just common sense.

Remember, no hate in comments or reblogs. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of the anonymous OP’s posts, you can find all of their posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[linderosse]

Hi! I love your art and your Wisdom AU. I have a question about it. Are you still keeping Legend and Fable siblings after Jojo said they weren’t related in the Q and A, or are you sticking with Linked Universe canon?

Thank you!!! Glad you like it!

Hm, I haven’t seen this Q&A! Can I get a link to it? :)

The reason some Zelda fans believe ALttP Link and Zelda are related is this:

Those are the dying words of Link’s uncle. Some English fans (Edit: choose to)(Edit: nowadays) believe the end of this sentence was supposed to be “sister,” since nothing else really fits (I’ve heard “soulmate” (Edit: or “destiny”) as an option, but it seems strange for Link’s uncle to be telling him who he’s supposed to end up with). Thus the headcanon of ALttP Link and Zelda being siblings.

The Japanese text is even more ambiguous, since it reads something along the lines of “You are the princess’s…” This means the line was probably meant to say something like “You are the princess’ only hope.” Unfortunately, this version doesn’t seem to work as well with the English translation, while the “sister” line still works with the Japanese text. The intention is different from the way some fans choose to interpret it. :)

To complicate matters further, the remake (2003) removed the line from that scene, although the line is still present elsewhere in the game— Blind the Bandit disguises himself as Link’s dying uncle and repeats the same lines, and he says the original phrase (Edit: ending with, “You are the princess’…”). The devs are definitely aware of the original line. (Edit: And they’ve fixed the translation, lol.)

So there’s the background info!

Now, on to the main part: regarding following LU canon. The truth is: I am already changing a few things from Linked Universe, the most important of which are these:

Legend and Fable are siblings

Tetra and Wind are not Phantom and Spirit

Shadow and the Four Swords manga are canon

Time and Wind (and other relevant characters) remember Hyrule Warriors

Why am I making these changes for my AU?

Discussed above!

I’m much more of a Spirit Tracks fan than Jojo seems to be :). And when considering the Zeldas, Phantom is markedly different from Tetra in both personality and skills. I’m sticking to LoZ canon over LU canon here. Phantom deserves to be her own character!

I’ve been a fan of the FSA manga for a decade and a half now, so it has long affected the way I see the Zelda series. I also love Shadow and Four’s history— it adds a unique twist to the classic Zelda formula. Shadow is therefore canon in Wielders of Wisdom and the parallel LU story, The Secrets We Keep. Expect Shadow’s backstory to play a role somewhere in the combined Wisdomverse :)

I’m new to the Hyrule Warriors fandom, but I love the connection it gives Warriors with Time and Wind— and other characters :). This is also going to be addressed in The Secrets We Keep. Check that out for more info!

Many of you who write/read fanfics for LU have seen these ideas before. Interpreting canon in different ways has always been an integral part of the Zelda fandom, because canon is itself can be contradictory. That’s one of the things that makes this fandom so fun <3.

And the most important thing is that these changes fit the story I want to tell better.

I’m going to do my best to stick to LU whenever possible, but I want to tell a fun, engaging story, and sometimes that will mean taking a different path: sometimes following LoZ canon more closely, sometimes interpreting things my own way :).

So, to answer your question: I will probably be keeping Legend and Fable as siblings. It’s a popular headcanon among fans. I believe the story I’m telling for Fable works better with other romantic interests for Legend. And I want to stress that he and Fable are just as fiercely loyal to each other.

That said, I definitely don’t mind if you believe differently! I don’t really emphasize romance anyways, and I’m not here to police the fandom. Please feel free to read the references to Legend calling Fable “sister” as friendship, or just ignore it, or whatever you wish! I don’t mind who you ship with who.

Only preference is: please don’t ship the Wielders with each other, since they’re canonically related by blood and spirit :). Other than that, anything goes as far as I’m concerned.

Anyways. This got really long, didn’t it?

I wanted to answer the question as thoroughly as I could. Please feel free to ask more questions, or stop by my quiet little art streams and ask me live if you want an immediate answer! I will always do my best to respond :)

You can find all previous responses under the tag: #lin responds !

[call-sign-shark]

Day 2: Cut Your Wings || Alfie Solomons x Reader

Requested by a lovely Anon 🖤

TW: Kinktober prompt- cut, dubcon, blood, inflected pain, masturbation?, enemies with sexual tension, canonical violence, dirty talk, sexual torture, kidnapping

Words: 2K

Notes: This work is a part of the Peaky Kinktober Event you can find here. Comment on the event post if you want to be tagged in the future works for Kinktober. Also this one ain't as smutty as I thought because I got carried away by the narrative?? Shark please, that ain't the goal of Kinktober??

A grunt escaped from your lips as you desperately tried to free yourself from the heavy shackles imprisoning your wrists. You moved them back and forth, then left and right, turning your hands in every position possible, and yet nothing worked. The handcuffs were too tight for you to slip from them. Another painful moan echoed in the damp and dark room of the distillery in which the jew's henchmen had locked you a few hours ago. The cold metal bit your flesh again. "Fuck". When loud footsteps resounded behind the heavy wooden door of your prison, you swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat and prayed to God for a quick and painless death because you knew that Alfie Solomons wasn't a forgiving man. Quite the contrary, his quick temper, and frightening antics only fueled his reputation as one of the most dangerous criminals in London.

"So that's the fucking little rat my men told me about." He stated, standing in the middle of the open door, both of his hands resting on the handle of his cane and a black hat hiding one of his hazel gray eyes.

"Fuck you, fucking cunt! When Tommy will know about this y'all going to regret it!" Words passed your thoughts, spitting their venom at him and yet the man remained silent. You even wondered if he had paid attention to what you just said or if the voices in his head were louder than yours. His gaze, intense and unfathomable, was observing you attentively as if he was trying to decipher the secrets of the most unique precious stone he had even held in his palm. After what seemed to be an eternity, Alfie Solomons pursued his lips, stroked his scruffy beard, and nodded, coming to an agreement with himself.

"See, my mates here told me that Tommy Shelby had sent a few men to London, but here's the problem – He said 'men'. And not 'little girl', which is definitely what you are. A bloody and nosey little girl. Hmhm." He agreed with his own statement before walking to the dusty furniture that was leaning against one of the brick walls. Then, he took off his hat and his long dark coat, and put the cane aside before walking towards you. He stopped in front of you, tattooed arms crossed on his muscular chest. The unusual amount of greenish ink deeply engraved in his skin caught your attention for a short while, you curiously observing the pattern it formed. Of course, both Tommy and Arthur had tattoos, but not as many as the mad baker.

"Would you look at ya. Haven't you something else to do instead of following a Birmingham scumbag's orders? Like finding yourself a man or something like this, y'know. 'Cause I don't see why such a young lass like ya puts her own life into danger for Tommy fucking Shelby." As he talked, Alfie had closed the distance between you and him. He was now leaning above you, so close that his scorching breath was fanning over your skin and the hairs of his beard were almost tickling your face. "So can you tell me why? The only reason I see is that Tommy Shelby sticks his cock in you and it has magically bred some loyalty." The right corner of his full lips curled into a mocking grin when he noticed how his words had lit a fire of rage in your eyes. Bang on, he thought, "No. It's more complex than that, innit? He doesn't want you and yet you remained devoted to him in the hope that one day, maybe, he'd look at you differently. He'd look at you like a woman to fuck senseless and not a pawn of his game."

"Kill me, Solomons. Kill me now or I'll fucking cut you once I'll be out of this shit-stinking place." You hissed, baring your teeth like a cornered animal, the truth hurting you more than a gunwound. For a split second, Alfie swore you would have dug your fangs into his throat, sinking them deep until you tasted blood if you hadn't been restrained by chains and handcuffs.

"Cut me?" The baker repeated these two words, pretending to be surprised while the tone in his voice betrayed how amused he was, "And what kind of tool would you use to cut me? This?" As he said so, Alfie pulled your grey beret out of the large pocket of his trousers, holding it to have a good grip at the base of the razor blades that were sewn to the fabric. "You Peaky girl like to cut people with this right? So come on, threaten me again little bird, I dare you." He said with both of his eyebrows raised in a taunting expression.

"D'ya think you're scaring me? I'm not scared, I'm a Peaky Blinder and I'm going to make things clear again: you better kill me now because if you miss this chance, I'll fucking cut your face the next time we meet–" You didn't finish your sentence, your words replaced by a scream of pain when Alfie, without a single warning, slashed your arm with your peaky cap. Blood soon filled the gash and overflowed from it, soaking the white fabric of your shirt in a crimson stain.

"Go ahead, dove. Say it again." This time you remained silent, staring at him in horror. He had cut deep, deep enough for you to feel the sickening pulse of your own heart in the wound. Your refusal to obey led Alfie to burst into an unexpected rage. His face reddened, and his brows furrowed, casting their shadow eyes. With one strong and brutal movement, Alfie's free hand grabbed your face, his calloused fingers sinking into your cheeks until your jaw hurt. "SAY IT AGAIN AND I'LL CUT YOUR FUCKING WINGS!" He barked, a bit of spit spilled in his beard and bloodshot eyes staring at your very soul. "See, you don't stand a chance here my sweet dove. You're just a little girl playing gangsters". In an unsettling mood swing, his temper had gone quiet again.

"I'm not gonna kill you peaky girl, that would be too easy. I see your eyes, and what I see in them is that you ain't afraid of death and I reckon this is a trait I particularly fancy in someone. So what should I do with you? We might..." He made a short pause when he noticed a tiny detail he hadn't spotted before. Alfie's hazel grey eyes abandoned yours and dropped to your bosom where he could see the round shape of your hardened nipples pointing through the fabric of your shirt. Licking his lips, Alfie's iris darkened with mischief and something you never expected to witness in the eyes of an enemy – lust. An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine as the baker's smirk suddenly turned into a wicked and threatening smile, "I know, dove. I know what I'm going to do with you. Everything's clear in my mind". A sparkle of pure madness enlightened his face, just like an artist struck by inspiration. With his words followed his hand, that came meeting your trembling body. His strong palm roamed all over you, the friction it created snatching a whimper from your tight throat while you understood his obscene plans.

"No, no! Please! Alfie--" You wanted to scream but you couldn't, petrified from the moment his fingers trailed down your belly and ended their exploration between your legs. The noisy juggling of the chains you produced by struggling sounded like a melody in Alfie's ears, who hummed in satisfaction at your cunt's warmth he could feel through the fabric of your trousers. His fingers pressed a bit more against your core, shooting a wave of forbidden arousal through your entire body and making your legs shake.

"You're in heat, lil' dove." He noted with an amused tone before closing the distance between your ear and his lips. You squeezed your eyes shut at the overwhelming scratching sensation of his gruff beard against your skin and the blazing blast of his breath. The room spun as you found yourself intoxicated by the fragrance of his cologne. Musky, and with a dab of cedarwood. His scent was as raw and wild as him. "I'm pretty sure you're all wet, aren't you?" He cooed in your ear. His rough fingers, applying pressure at the exact spot where your throbbing clit was, started to rub it in slow and circular motions. As much as you hated the thought of it, his skillful caresses lit a fire of desire within you, so much that you felt your own wetness soaking your panties, "How long since a man stretched that lonely pussy?"

"Don't touch me!" You growled, but as convincing as you had tried to sound convincing you still failed judging by how Alfie's brow arched. He let out a dark chuckle. Doing the exact opposite, his fingers kept fondling your sensitive bud but this time his wet and warm tongue licked your neck just like a predator would do to get a first taste of his freshly caught prey.

"Oh I'm not gonna touch you dove." The muffled sound of your cap falling on the concrete ground made you open your eyes again. You had barely lifted your eyelids when your gaze met Alfie's other hand, who was kneading his massive bulge. As afraid as you were, you could not help but let out a soft yet needy moan "I'm not gonna touch you. What I'm going to do cannot be described, no no it can't because I don't want God to hear it. What I can tell you though is that you'll never come back to Birmingham once you'll know the feeling of my cock buried deep inside you." His words' immediate effects upon you had your teased pussy clenching onto nothing and reminding you how desperately empty you were. An emptiness Tommy would never fill, "Are you thinking about him now?"

You weren't.

Alfie didn't need you to answer, for the way you brought your hips closer to his fingers and grind against them was enough. The mad baker's mouth sucked on the sensitive flesh of your neck, pinching it between his lips to leave a bright red mark on you, claiming his newly acquired property. All these sensations soon became unbearable: the friction of your shirt against your erected tits, the cold bite of the handcuffs on your wrists, and the increasingly faster rubbing of your clit destroyed what remained of your will of fighting. Never in your life you had been touched for you had always kept your virginity unspoiled for Thomas. A stupid and fruitless devotion.

You gave in to the pleasure and surprised yourself by thinking about how big Alfie's dick looked, unable to look anywhere else.

"Don't s-stop." You muttered under your breath, your climax building as Alfie kept assaulting your sweet bundle of nerves: he was nothing but gentle with it, almost hurting you with how rough he rubbed you. With your mouth parted and your breath quickening, you felt the delightful warmth of an orgasm coming but, all of sudden, Alfie stopped.

"Enough for today. We'll see if you deserve more tomorrow." He said.

If you have appreciated what you've just read please take the time to reblog and/or comment. Your reactions are the real fuel and motivation of writers.

tags: @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @mollybegger-blog @hwangrimi @munson24 @tommyshelbywhore @devotedlyshadowytheorist @stevie75 @brummiereader @triplethreat77 @sebastianstangirl01 1 @izzy10369 @kimvolturicullen @peakyltd

[yanderes-galore]

Misa/Rem (Death note) Platonic/Romantic Team up Misa friends darling 🪲 [Shiny Bug Anon]

Yeesh... as if having one yandere isn't bad enough. You also get the supernatural enabling her. If Rem's character is off, it's because it's been a bit since I've seen the source material.

Yandere! Misa Amane + Rem with Friend! Darling

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic - "Sharing"

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Murder, Possessive behavior/Jealousy, Isolation, Dubious companionship/relationship.

Alright, this is my idea for the pair dynamic.

The primary yandere is Misa as you both are friends.

She can either be romantic or platonic, but it's clear Misa is... attached.

Even more so if you were friends before her modeling career.

Now she has to deal with all these creeps...

But at least she has you, right?

When it comes to Rem, I feel Rem is more of a guardian to the both of you.

Not only that but... The Shinigami sees how happy you make Misa.

Rem never liked Light using Misa.

Rem thinks the girl deserves someone who actually cares for her.

Rem believes you are that person.

Due to this I can see Rem... encouraging Misa's obsession once she shifts her attention to you.

She just seems so much... happier with you.

As we all know, Rem cares for Misa, even if it's against the rules for Shinigami to feel such a way.

If you make Misa happy... Rem will do anything to preserve that.

If you think about it... such a team up is terrifying.

It would be different from Light and Ryuk, as Ryuk could care less about Light compared to Rem and Misa.

Not only do you have Misa, who already has obsessive behavior without me needing to do anything, on your trail...

But she has a Shinigami aiding her.

It's... unfair for you.

Misa is a very hyperactive person, often childish and cheerful.

Due to how she acts around people, I can see her being clingy with you as her friend.

She often calls you on the phone... or visits your home.

I can see Misa talking the ear off her obsession.

She's someone who adores your attention.

Even more so if her obsession isn't platonic... or changing over from platonic....

It's canonical that Misa doesn't put much meaning on life.

As a Death Note user, all it takes is a name and a face for someone to die.

Plus, she's had her life saved countless times.

She's been known to kill to get her way in canon.

All thanks to help from Rem.

The scariest part about this match up is the fact you have no idea Rem exists.

Rem, who is no doubt helping keep you in Misa's grasp, is beyond your comprehension without touching the Death Note.

Rem's view of you isn't entirely adoration like how she feels towards Misa.

In fact, Rem is mostly doing this for Misa.

So, if Misa rants about you liking someone else or spending time with someone else, I can see the two easily getting rid of the person.

Nothing should threaten Misa's happiness.

The same would go for you if you decide to try and leave Misa.

I can see Rem helping Misa get closer to you.

You constantly feel like you're being watched... which could be by either of them.

No one around you is safe because of the whole Shinigami eye deal.

You'd have no clue that Misa is the one isolating you.

Misa doesn't seem as cunning as Light... yet she's still be able to keep other people away from you with help from Rem.

So... There's no choice but for you to hang out with your friend, right...?

Misa is thankful Rem cares enough to help her.

All the scary deaths and missing people no doubt make you stick close to her.

Safety in groups, right?

Plus, surely you're concerned for her too?

You're blissfully unaware that your modeling friend is manipulating you by killing off those around you.

Honestly, the only way you'd learn of this fact is if you touched the Death Note.

Which is something that most likely won't happen... unless it's by accident or Misa wants it.

For example, maybe you get in a fight with Misa.

You two are quite close but you end up catching her being cruel and manipulative towards someone you talk to.

You argue about wanting space, only for Misa to impulsively thwack you with something after feeling hurt.

You pause, baffled she hit you...

Only to freeze when you see Rem staring down at you from behind Misa.

Once you're able to see Rem, I can see you being more attentive to Misa...

Who can blame you? You just found out your friend is connected to the supernatural...

You also find out your friend has been eliminating everyone you talk to that isn't her...

All thanks to that Shinigami behind her.

Safe to say, you're terrified, all the time.

Especially when Rem stalks you for Misa, whom eagerly wants to know what her friend is doing all the time.

There's no one to ask for help, who is there to ask for help...?

Misa would probably have them killed.

Probably finding the situation funny.

Unlike Light, she doesn't think all of her kills through.

If she wants them gone, they're gone.

Rem goes along with it because Misa's happy.

Rem is only fond of you because Misa is obsessed with you.

How could Rem not help when she sees the model cling to you whenever she sees you.

We already know through her interactions with Light that she gets jealous easily.

Now that she has Rem and the Death Note, it's not an issue!

They're dead before they're too close.

She has no problem with this, either.

Misa only seems to care about a few people.

Light, Rem, and you.

So... as you're very close to her... She naturally wants you all to herself.

It rough for you.

At some point, no doubt due to being intimidated by Rem, you give up finding new friends.

This thrills Misa.

Great! Now she doesn't have to worry about you forgetting about her.

She's always been your best friend.

If she isn't dating Light or no longer loves him, she could be your girlfriend too.

But... Either way works for her!

As long as you're hers, she couldn't be happier.

She's always giggling with you, saying how much she adores you, all while you're hoping Rem stays merciful.

Rem loves to see Misa happy... she always seems happy with you...

Which just means Rem will have to keep you two together, no matter what, it's what Misa would want....

[bohemian-nights]

It makes so frustrated and upset that so much of the hotd fandom is already rushing to claim that the it’s not racist to combine rhaena and nettles. I really want the showrunners to feel the backlash cuz maybe they might change it? But no ofc not. The bootlickers and delulus are in full force defending everything these showrunners do. Let me tell you though, if Daeron would be cut, the world would have split in half.

Sadly Nettles has never been a very popular character. Even before HOTD a lot of fans have ignored her, her characterization, her race (people only like to admit she’s Black when it’s time to replace her with someone else), her importance in the Dance, her importance to Daemon, and the broader implications of her character in the ASOIAF universe.

Shes been working an uphill battle since 2013 because she’s a Black female character in a fantasy novel.

In the ASOIAF universe she’s further marginalized because she’s a non-Valyrian lowborn orphan. She survives a war (with her dragon) where many more beloved characters perish. Whether people want to admit to it or not(most obviously don’t), she has an extremely close relationship with a desirable male character.

A relationship that gets in the way of another more popular ship (which is really the source of most of these fans “beef” with her), but the fandom's treatment of her has worsened thanks to the show's fanbase. Thus we have arrived at this point where people actively want her cut and merged with Rhaena..…who she has absolutely nothing in common with.

All I’ll say to the people who think Nettles must be cut in order to prop up Missy Anne give Rhaena “something to do” is that it really does not have to be this way.

If there is room enough to makeup characters, include every other dragonseed/secondary character and expand on their arcs, there is room enough to include the only canonical surviving dragonseed. There is room to include the only Black dragonseed.* There is room to include the only female dragonseed and the only non-Valyrian dragonseed and expand on Rhaena’s preexisting book arc.

*It doesn’t matter if Alyn and Addam are Black now or that Baela and Rhaena(who aren’t even Black, they are mixed) are Black-ish now, Nettles is the only Black book canon character and she’d still be the only non-Valyrian dragonseed.

I cannot stress this enough, even in regards to show canon, there is no good reason to cut Nettles and give her arc to Rhaena.

There can be more than a handful of “Black” characters in the show. There isn’t a limit to how many “Black” female characters they can have. Rhaena doesn’t need to be ride into battle on dragonback to be cool, interesting, and worth character exploration. Nor does Nettles need to be sacrificed in order to “give Rhaena something to do.”

Just like how Helaena and Rhaenyra, Ulf and Hugh, and Addam and Alyn all exist despite sharing the same gender and racial background, so can Nettles and Rhaena.

Y’all can’t have one set of rules for yourselves and another for us. That’s not how this will go down and y’all won’t gaslight your way out of this.

It’s no surprise though that the showrunners seem to share the fandoms sentiments. Nettles unfortunately gets in the way of the narrative (fanfiction) they are trying to tell. They don’t care if she’s axed as opposed to a character like Daeron (who shouldn’t be axed either, but he isn’t more important than Nettles) because Rhaena exists and she’s Black-ish now too.

Rhaena is seen as the “safe option” that will appease shippers while at the same time won’t have the majority of Black fans(the racial group, not the team) calling them out for their blantant misogynoir.

She doesn’t break the status quo. She doesn’t get in the way of a dry wonder bread ship. She doesn’t make Missy Anne look bad. She’s not a threat.

The amount of times Black female characters continuously get the short end of the stick and get treated like human garbage thanks to the showrunners and racist fandoms boils my blood, but you can’t point that out because then you are making it into “a race thing” and you’re being “ungrateful,” blah blah blah

Honestly unless the fandom magically stops being racist(yes it is racism if you think Nettles and Rhaena are one and the same or that Nettles isn’t needed anymore since the show has a whopping five “Black” characters), GRRM talks some sense into Ryan, or Ryan realizes the value in Nettles, don’t expect much.

I’m remaining hopeful that they aren’t stupid enough to cut her, but it’s best to just not give this show any views(that’s the one thing we have control of and the show isn’t even good so it’s not like anyone is missing anything).

[dude-wheres-my-ankheg]

Okay so thanks to the current chapter I'm working on, I've been asked about my Sorn/Nym head canons and I didn't know where to dump that wall of text so it's going here lolol enjoy my completely made up Sorn/Nym lore

So, ignoring the very fact that Larian decided to make them maddeningly contradictory by being "Seldarine" drow and having "fled the underdark due to the mistreatment of mens" as part of their backstory, I have made up my own shit.

Much of this is very loose and subject to change

From the drow specific dialogue, it's hinted that no they actually aren't from Menzoberranzan, which I've chosen to keep because it leads to a kinda funny moment with my OC. ANYWAY here are my extremely abridged Orlith HCs

History

So in my completely made up HCs, they were both born as commoners in a Lolthite city (not Menzo or Ust Natha, not decided which one) who, both being very headstrong and troublesome, left their family to make it on their own together. They quickly found a very effective method of getting by - Sorn seducing wealthy merchants so Nym could rob them blind while they were distracted. They were very successful like this for several years, a few close calls but nothing terrible, until The Incident (which I still need to properly work out).

Following The Incident which resulted in some imprisonment and jailbreak, the two decide to get proper jobs for a while, Sorn as an accountant and Nym working security for a local merchant (lol). However working mundane jobs only accentuated how poorly Sorn was treated, and Nym said they should go to the surface together instead. Sorn was initially worried but Nym had the idea that if they worked as courtesans they'd have an easier time - she had heard that drow were seen as beautiful and exotic by many surfacers, and such a role would make them seem less threatening and less likely to draw trouble.

This is how they both came to work at Sharess' Caress in Baldur's Gate. They both found that the work was less dangerous and more fun than most else they had done, and decided to stick with it, making names for themselves as two highly sought after (and expensive) courtesans.

Sorn

In my HCs, I imagine Sorn as vain, kinda simple, very sweet, and a great lover of numbers. idk, I can just see him laying face down on his bed, kicking his feet doing a sudoku as he waits for his next client. He was an excellent accountant and sometimes helps Mamzell Amira with the books. He loves the fine things in life, like good food and clothes, but loves nothing more than his sister.

Nym

I imagine Nym, underneath her courtesan persona, being a very capable and dangerous woman. Good with a knife and a lockpick, excellent at sneaking and getting places she shouldn't, easily talking her way out of situations. Out of the two of them, she is the quiet one and enjoys listening to Sorn waffle on as he does. Despite her dangerous capabilities, she's generally a good soul who would rather resolve issues peacefully. She would, however, do anything to defend her brother.

And the pair absolutely adore gossip. They truly are living their best lives in Sharess' Caress.

[scarysanctuary]

the chucky series, even when i dont love or even like a decision that is being made plot/character-wise, or even when it flat out makes me cringe, i love it so much, and always have fun, theres truly nothing else like it out there in the horror space. i will always respect Don and people like him that are continually trying to shake things up, and transform their craft, it takes guts. as a viewer, it makes me feel that my time is being respected, hes not just phoning it in and doing the same stuff every season out of fear of ruffling some feathers or not sticking the landing. when he takes these chances, some of it is gonna be a miss, not everyone is going to love it. some plot lines are too thin, hurried and lacking the proper weight, while some drag on too long, this show would benefit from a finer precision, patience and focus. every season i get the feeling that they are fearful of not being renewed and that they have to go at a 100 mph to get everything that they want jammed in there, its chaotic and makes deep emotional investment almost impossible, in my opinion. which, they seem to have a lot of pride in their kills, and as a gore hound, i do love them too, but i dont necessarily think it needs to be as big of a focus as it has been, what i mean by that is oftentimes kills, and the body count in general, are prioritized over a good plot line. killing off Ms Fairchild so soon after introducing her as their foster mother was plainly just a bad decision, they could have shown their dynamics grow closer behind the scenes, she wouldnt have even had to be directly helping the kids, so the story that we got wouldnt have been impacted, but instead she could have played a motherly role whenever they came home from their misadventures, until finally the kids are getting close to her, letting their guard down and BAM then you kill her. the way it was executed in the show though, sure it was surprising, but shock only lasts so long, but heartache lingers, case in point, the kids didnt seem that affected by her passing and didnt even mention her later on. you cant have most of your characters treated like canon fodder but also try to pull at our heartstrings, expecting us to get invested when we know you are going to kill them at the end of the episode, you've got to have patience, let these relationships breathe. BUT, as i said, i do love the show and will always want more, i do think that this season was a good set up for a much better season 4, the potential is there, and seeing how much the cast and crew wants it to be renewed as well is heartwarming, it really is like a family

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

20 and 21 for ghostbur :]

Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter?

This question makes me a little sad because Ghostbur really didn’t have… much of any good, true friends during his life. He had Friend, of course, and Tommy, but everyone else didn’t seem to actually care much about him :/ People like Ranboo and Phil even seemed happy when he died. It’s just really sad to me.

In another universe, Ghostbur would’ve been soooooo loved & cherished and he would’ve had sooooo many wonderful friends who deeply loved him :’)

But! To answer the question aksgajsgajsg I must give Two answers: Friend and Charlie Slimecicle.

Friend and Ghostbur’s close bond is very canon, and for good reason!! They’re freakin adorable! The way Friend chooses to stick with his human, even though sheep are flock animals and almost always prefer to be with other sheep… 🥺 And the way Ghostbur always, always, always searches for his sheep when he gets lost or loses a life, and never once gives up the search until he finds Friend… 🥺 PLEASE. THE DEVOTION!!!

Friend also really really helps Ghostbur with his mental issues, and has a very calming effect on the ghost—super similar to a service pet! I think it’s such a neat relationship and, even though Friend is an animal and not a fellow human, his and Ghostbur’s friendship really is so sweet and just… filled to the brim with love <3 Strong, devotional love and it’s so wholesome.

I really think Charlie and Ghostbur would’ve been so good for each other 😭 Their personalities are so similar and I think they’d relate on a lot of things!! Even their speech patterns are similar 😅 IT PAINS ME THAT THEY NEVER GOT ANY CANON INTERACTIONS. OH WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN.

Oh my gosh I could totally see these two becoming close and really getting to know & trust each other and and and 🥺 Oh… what could have been, truly.

If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

OOOOOOOH

Okayokay, let me think about this for a moment… oh this is such an interesting question. Oh yes.

I really adore Ghostbur’s perspective/worldview, and it’s so pleasant to write :) Whether it comes through in his dialogue or I’m just describing what he’s thinking about, he’s got such a clearly unique point of view, and it’s a joy to write!! Seriously such a pleasure! Ghostbur is a lovely soul with a lovely mind, and it’s really cool to kind of… I guess see it for myself through writing. It’s really awesome :)

The way he thinks is so sweet and simple and hopeful and poetic, but there’s also a deepness that’s so striking and thought-provoking—and, often, deep deep layers of sadness & emotional turmoil as well. It all blends together in SUCH a beautiful way, and just… dudeeee. Ghostbur is the Best little guy <33

As for things I don’t like… hm. I don’t know if I can come up with anything specific :0 I guess I’m always a little worried that I’m writing him wrong, or making him either “too childish” or “too serious” or whatever. It’s nothing too bad though, and for the most part I really do enjoy writing him!

[cophene]

022 || ☆ ⁺ « AN EXCHANGE OF FAVOURS.

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pairing : vento aureo x gn reader summary : with virtually nothing left in their credit account, a gang of space thieves turn to the richest man in the galaxy to give them  a job worth millions. too bad those never come easy, even with stand abilities and pretty-faced crew notes : sci-fi au, multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 3.4k+

★˚⋆ I FEEL LIKE I’M GOING to get an ulcer,” you muttered. Someone jostled into your metal table and your heart nearly gave out then and there. Fugo was unperturbed, barely pausing as he brought a forkful of greens to his mouth and chewed deliberately. You would never know that he gripped an open flame beneath the table—had been gripping it since you’d all sat down.

“I’m getting an ulcer just watching you,” Trish said. “Relax, Captain. Fugo has everything under control. The way he always does.”

“If you’re so worried, I could always take the lighter,” Mista added. He eyed the tough piece of beef on his tray before spearing it with his fork and trying to tear a bite out of it.

“If it were up to me, none of you would be holding it,” you said. It was like trusting someone with your stuff but not being able to tear your eyes off of it—not because you didn’t trust that person, but because you cared about your stuff that much.

Thankfully, none of the patrol bots had caught onto the lighter yet. Fugo had taken the damn thing from your cells, into the canteen, down the lunch line and to this table without so much as a flicker. You had never appreciated your engineer’s willfulness until now and couldn’t help being a little bit in awe. Still, you were surrounded by dozens of inmates and it seemed like some lighter-killing event would happen at any moment.

Giving up on the beef, Mista set it back on his plate and allowed the Pistols free rein of it. “I don’t think the lighter should be our main concern right now anyhow. We need to figure out where JoJo is and how to get him back.”

“Do we?” Fugo said tonelessly. “Didn’t he tell us to go on without him?”

Trish retorted immediately, “But we can’t. We can’t just leave him behind once we get the Arrow. He’s one of us now.”

Fugo said nothing to that. He caught your eyes and you had to look away. You didn’t fault Fugo for his suspicions. You felt like JoJo had been showing signs all along that he wasn’t who he said he was. Even his name, Johnny Jones, rang false now that you thought about it.

You didn’t really have any guarantee that he wasn’t working against you. Whether it was that he was out to get the Stand Arrow himself or if he was getting it for someone else. But why would he have given you the lighter if that was the case? Why stick around for this long? Why give you that warning?

You didn’t want to admit it, but if it came down to JoJo or the Stand Arrow, you would choose the Arrow. Getting it to Zero was the main priority. No matter which one of the crew got left behind, you had to deliver it.

You paused at that, feeling like you had jumped the beat in a song. You were giving the Arrow to Zero because of your crew. If something happened to them, of course you would—

Continue without them?

“I bet Asswipe would know,” Mista said. He narrowed his eyes at the Pistols as once again, Number Five started bawling about something. “If we could get him to tell us, we could grab JoJo on our way out once Polpo coughs up the Arrow.”

“He’s suspicious of us enough as it is,” Trish said. “I doubt Cannolo has the clearance to find JoJo. We might actually be better off asking the inmates.”

Your crew cast wary glances at the inmates around you. No one was hostile, exactly, but like anything new, no one was willing to get too close just yet. Now that you were looking, you realized that, for this sector at least, most of the other inmates barely looked like ones. Aside from the odd grey coat here and there with Galactic Penitentiary IV on the back, everyone was more or less in their regular attire. If regular attire happened to be extremely questionable. 

“Mind if I take a seat?” someone asked from behind you.

You looked back and instantly felt underdressed, although it wasn’t like you were in a jail or anything. The guy behind you wore a tight-fitting lavender suit patterned with paisleys and an honest-to-Stars blue ascot. His hair was styled into short, blonde spikes, and probably the most atrocious eyebrows you’d ever seen sat above his eyes like fluffy bunny tails.

“Uh . . .” Mista made a face at the guy, unsure of how to indicate that the table was already fully occupied. Nonetheless, and without anyone’s encouragement, the blonde guy shoved his tray between you and Mista and forced a seat between the two of you, nearly knocking Mista’s ass to the ground.

“Maxx, Sports Maxx,” the guy said with a smug quirk of his lips. “Pleasure to meet you all.”

“Literally who asked?” Mista grumbled, pushing his tray and the Pistols pointedly away from the guy.

“You must be the notorious Passione I’ve been hearing so much about,” Maxx continued pleasantly. “I’m so glad I can finally talk to you all.”

Nobody said anything. It took everything in you not to duck under the table to check on the lighter again.

Maxx took a drink from his water. “There’s less of you than I remember. Are you missing a crew member?”

“What do you want?” Trish asked tartly.

“You want information, don’t you? If you’ll allow me, I’d be happy to oblige.”

The hair on the back of your neck rose. Had he managed to overhear your crew somehow? Or was he just being arrogant? It was almost as though he’d been biding his time, waiting for the exact moment to drop in on your table.

“We’re fine, thank you,” Fugo said, placing another forkful of greens into his mouth.

Your crew’s coldness didn’t ruffle Maxx in the least. He continued eating leisurely as though he had all the time in the world. For a few minutes, his gaze rested on the Pistols tearing the cut of beef apart. With a start, you wondered if he could actually see them before he perked up again. 

“There’s no need to be shy. If you want to know anything, I’d be happy to tell you. We’re all friends here.” He nodded at Fugo. “How’s Polpo’s lighter?”

For a second, you thought Fugo might chuck the lighter into Maxx’s face.

“How do you know about that?” you couldn’t help asking.

“Everyone here knows about the lighter,” Maxx said. “We’ve all tried it at one point or another. No one’s been successful, but don’t let that deter you. None of us really had the will, I don't think.”

Maybe that was why no one had given Fugo a second glance about the lighter. They were used to it as some kind of inside dare. Likely, they didn’t know what they would gain if they had been able to complete Polpo’s task.

Over Maxx’s head, you traded looks with Mista.

Should we trust him? you asked with your eyes.

Hell no. Flacker sat down like he owned the place.

How else are we going to get JoJo back?

We could ask literally anyone else besides him.

But he’s right here.

Yes, and?

“The patrol bots didn’t let one of our crew members pass,” you decided to say, ignoring Mista’s exasperated look. “He got taken away somewhere. We need to get him back.”

“Black-haired kid with the green eyes?” Maxx asked.

“Yes. Do you know where he is?”

Maxx tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I might have seen him. He’ll probably be in the warden’s office while they try to reconfirm his ident.”

“And where is that?”

Maxx shrugged. “You’ll have to pay me for that.”

“We don’t have any credits on us,” Trish said.

“Shame. Maybe you’ll have to pay me some other way.”

Trish frowned. “Like how?”

Maxx gave her a significant look. Instantly, she turned as pink as her hair and crossed her arms over her chest indignantly. Strangely, though, Maxx wasn’t looking at her anymore. He’d pinned his gaze on you instead.

“Well?” he said expectantly. “What will it be?”

You baulked. “What are you talking about?”

“My cell doesn’t have a lot of privacy but there’s a chapel that people usually steer clear of. Or we can go somewhere else if you'd rather set the mood.”

"Set the mood for what?"

Mista slapped an aggressive hand against Maxx's back. Trish was still pink and Fugo looked murderous.

"Why do you lay off with that? Trish is right there, wouldn't you rather ask her?"

"Excuse me?" Trish retorted.

"I agree. That's our Captain you're speaking to," Fugo said.

"Whatever you need to Trish can do I'm sure I could do it just as well," you said, a little bewildered.

"Oh, I'm sure of it," Maxx laughed.

“Like hell,” Mista said contemptuously.

“Why not? The Captain has agreed to it, have they not?”

Fugo scoffed. “As if we’d ever let that happen. We’d kill you first.”

“Why is that? Do either of you have some claim already?”

Your eyebrows drew together. The point of the conversation had yet to hit you and, honestly, you were afraid to ask.

Mista and Fugo both began speaking at the same time. They shut up, looked at each other, then coughed and looked away.

Maxx’s eyes gleamed. “As I was saying, there are other ways to pay me for services rendered, Captain, whether that be physically or—”

Mista and Fugo got to their feet at the same time. Fugo shoved the lighter into Trish's hand while Mista hauled Maxx bodily out of his seat. Maxx looked distantly amused as the two frogmarched him into a corner, and from there, you could only make out snatches of their heated conversation.

“Do I even want to know?” you said to Trish. For a second, she only looked at you, then she huffed out a little laugh. She surprised you by taking your hand from the table and squeezing it.

“Never change, Captain.”

“ . . . I won’t?”

Trish smiled and it made your heart stumble a little. She let go of your hand but the warmth from her hand lingered.

She glanced at Mista and Fugo still berating Maxx by the corner, then briefly at the lighter. “That didn’t go how we expected at all,” she said briskly, sweeping right back into business. You tried to finish the rest of your food but you were too pent up to eat.

“How are we supposed to get to the warden’s office?” you said. “Who else here can we ask?”

Looking around, you noticed everyone pointedly keeping their gazes away. Not that you blamed them. It was obvious your crew stirred up trouble.

“Look over there,” Trish said, shrugging her left shoulder. There was one person who didn’t avoid eye contact with you. Actually, she was staring at you without a hint of shame. She quirked her blue-tinted lips, then rose slowly from her table and made a show of leaving the canteen. An invitation to follow, if you’d ever seen one.

“Fifteen minutes before we have to go back to our cell,” Trish said before you could ask. “Think that woman can help us?”

“It’s worth a shot.” You considered getting Mista and Fugo to join in, but they were still preoccupied with Maxx. Making sure Trish had the lighter secure, the two of you waited for the patrol bots to look the other way before slipping out of the canteen.

The woman was leaning against the wall directly outside. She flicked her fingers at you in a mock-salute.

“So you wanna get to the warden’s office,” she said without preamble. You couldn’t help feeling a bit miffed. Were the acoustics in the canteen so good that everyone could hear everything your crew said now?

“I bet it’s got something to do with Polpo’s lighter, huh?” she said, smirking at it.

You quickly filled her in about JoJo getting taken away. Fugo would have been appalled at your giving information away so easily but you were starting to get impatient. Help was help and flack any strings attached.

Besides, this woman had to be more trustworthy than Maxx. Her striped pants and tank-top made you squint a little, but you liked the little crow's feet on her headband. Trish seemed to like the blue dotting beneath her eyes.

“Oh, I can get him out no problem,” the woman said.

“And that would be how?” you asked.

“Don’t worry your pretty head over the details. I can get him out but you don’t have any credits,” the woman mused regretfully. 

Trish was quick to add, “And we’re not willing to pay by any . . . unsavoury means either.”

The woman considered that. “What about an exchange of favours?” she said. “One inmate to another.”

You glanced at the lighter. You felt a twinge of unease, but if this woman kept her word, it would save your crew a great deal of trouble. You had learned a long time ago to build bridges where you could. “We’ll do what we can.”

“That’s all anyone can ask for,” the woman said. She gestured for you and Trish to come closer. “One of these inmates here keeps a little bird in their cell. I want you to get it for me. Then, I’ll get your boy out for you.”

“A little bird?” How the hell had that gotten past the patrol bots? This place was starting to seem less and less like the fearsome Galactic Penitentiary IV everyone pissed their pants over.

The woman nodded. “It should be no problem for you. I’d get it myself if it wasn’t such a hassle.”

“Is that it?” Trish asked. “That’s all you want?”

“Mhm.”

“Which cell number is it?” you said. You didn’t know what the schedule was after lunch, but hopefully you would get another chance to wander around the sector before lights-out.

“A23. He’s always sleeping, so you shouldn’t have to worry about him.”

“Will you be able to keep him for a while? We’re not leaving until we finish Polpo’s lighter test,” you said.

“Shouldn’t be a problem.” The woman bared her teeth. “Just get me the little bird and it should be smooth sailing from there.”

“Can I ask why you need it?” Trish asked. She passed the lighter between her hands and you couldn’t tell she wasn’t one-hundred percent on board with the plan. Nonetheless, she was probably the most concerned about JoJo’s well-being besides you, so like you, she must have felt that you didn’t have a lot of options. This woman was better acquainted with the penitentiary than you were. If she said she could get JoJo out, you just had to trust her.

The worst she could do was not get JoJo. In that case, you would just have to bust him out yourself.

“People can have their fun, can’t they? I just want the bird. It doesn’t have to be deeper than that.”

You realized that you still didn’t know the woman’s name and sheepishly asked her for it.

“You just call me Gwess,” she said, with another blue-tinted smirk. “Bring the bird to me as soon as you can. I promise I’ll have your boy by then.”

You shook hands with Gwess and parted ways. An announcement sounded overhead, directing everyone back to their cells. Under the watchful gaze of the patrol bots, you and Trish filed back into your cells. The back of your skull prickled, even though you weren’t the one with the lighter. It was a miracle that you’d gotten so far without anyone noticing. Everyone else who had done the test must have idiots—

[PRISONER FE20026, PLEASE STOP AND FACE THE SCANNER.]

You and Trish both paused. The patrol bot repeated its message and your stomach dropped to the floor.

Trish turned slowly, holding the lighter behind her back. It was no use. The patrol bot flashed red.

[ CONTRABAND DETECTED. PRISONER FE20026, PLEASE REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE AND WAIT FOR THE NEAREST AUTHORITY. FAILURE TO FOLLOW THESE INSTRUCTIONS WILL RESULT IN PUNISHMENT. ]

“Shit,” Trish whispered. Her green eyes flashed to you. “I’m sorry, Captain.”

“It’s not your fault,”  you whispered back. If it hadn’t been Trish it would’ve been someone else. It was only a matter of time until the lighter would have been detected and you suspected that was Polpo’s intent.

“I’ll figure something out,” Trish said, and you almost couldn’t handle how guilty she sounded. Her eyes darted down the corridor behind you, never mind the fact that there was nothing down there. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, then glanced up to the ceiling.

“Give me the lighter,” you said.

“What are you going to do with it?”

“Put it into Party Rock like I should’ve done from the beginning.”

“You can’t!” Trish hissed. “Polpo specifically told you not to. You’ll go against your agreement.”

“I don’t give a flack. They’re going to put the lighter out and then we won’t see Polpo at all. He was lying. How could he possibly know whether or not I use my Stand?”

“The lighter could be his Stand! We’ll figure out some way to get the lighter back. But you can’t use your Stand, Captain!”

“Trish, we don’t have time for this!” You lunged for the lighter but Trish backed out of your way. An irrational surge of anger rose in your chest. You had already wasted enough time jumping through hoops for Polpo. You should’ve just held him at elector-point and threatened to blast his brains out if he didn’t hand over the Stand Arrow. You weren’t even sure how much time you had left. A week and half? Less than that? Zero didn’t deserve to be kept waiting for that long.

“Give me the lighter,” you snapped, trying to snatch it from Trish. Again, she moved out of your way, setting her chin. 

“Listen to me. This isn’t right. If Polpo told you not to use your Stand, then don’t!” 

You ignored her and tried to catch her arm. With surprising speed, Trish brought that very arm up and under your chin, forcing you back until she had you pinned to the wall. The patrol bot looked on impassively as you and Trish stared at each other, the lighter flame tickling the skin of your neck.

“Don’t do this,” Trish said slowly. Her face was very close. “Can’t you trust me on this? I know something bad is going to happen to you if you do.”

You realized that there was no use arguing. Trish was dead-set on this. Maybe it was her Upper Space morals, but for some reason she thought your agreement with that human-bed Polpo was supposed to mean something. Wasn’t she a space thief? She should know by now that you did what you did to stay ahead and nothing else.

You forced your body to relax. “You’re right,” you said, your voice low. “I was just worried about you. I don’t know where they’re going to take you. I thought I could hide the lighter so at least they wouldn’t take you away.”

Trish’s arm didn’t relax. “I’ll be fine.”

You smiled. “I know.”

Blood rushed to Trish’s face. You leaned forward, closing the small space between the two of you. Even now, Trish smelled slightly floral, a relic of her Upper Space days.

Trish hadn’t trapped your arms behind you—you always reprimanded her for that because it was the one thing she never learned from the restraining holds you taught her. Without hesitating, you swiped the lighter from Trish’s fingers and between one blink and the next, the lighter was in a Stand card and then out of sight.

Trish’s eyes were closed. Maybe she’d thought you were going to kiss her. When she opened her eyes again, bewilderment and then betrayal filled her eyes. The expression knifed your heart but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel sorry. You had to get that arrow to Zero. No matter what.

A guard came by to check Trish over, annoyed when he found nothing amiss. He reset the patrol bot, then snapped at you and Trish to get to your cells. This wouldn’t be the first time you were at odds with Trish you thought, trying and failing to catch her eye. She was still too soft. Things would work out fine. You had no other choice.

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[editrevue]

Mei Fan for the ask game?

this is going to be super indulgent apologies in advance! [ask]

Sexuality Headcanon: lesbian! silly yachiyo enthusiast

Gender Headcanon: he/him transmasc! would also love neopronouns

A ship I have with said character: YACHIYO x MEI FAN RUNS THROUGH MY BLOOD. live laugh love yachimei. big shoutout to whoever sent the ychm headcanons ask btw we cannot wait to post those hehehe! oh and Mei Fan and Akira....... maybe as a treat. just once. let me live in my fantasy land of make-believe

A BROTP I have with said character: Mei Fan/Rui!! they can bond and relate over gender things and how they're like opposite in that way (Rui being transfemme and Mei Fan being transmasc), their different styles of fighting in acting, and their extreme attachments and idolization for their senpais/partners. I'm so serious when I say Mei Fan/Chitose, they'd love to embarrass Yachiyo together and bond over both wanting the best for her. he would be Chitose's first friend outside of Yachiyo (and Shiori?), and that would mean a lot to both of them. I love how Mei Fan and Shizuha interact in the stage plays too which makes me think he would get along with Frontier very easily, and then of course, it goes without saying but Mei Fan & the Edels as an entirety! they're all best friends and family to me, yes even Fumi. (looks at you with goopy-eyes)

just like Ichie, Mei Fan is another character I see getting along so well with almost everyone it's hard to narrow it down! it's canon that he is the "easiest Edel to talk to" according to siegfeld students, so take that however you like!

A NOTP I have with said character: like all of them, nothing gross or weird (obviously!), I also wouldn't prefer Mei Fan/Shiori, they're more like family to me and I also am both of them so it feels so weird. maybe Mei Fan/Fumi, Mei Fan/Michiru? shrug.

A random headcanon: Mei Fan loves to help out the Juniors with Shiori and Yachiyo, and has taken Kuina under his wing! all of the edels have their "assigned junior" in my brain. Akira was actually Mei Fan's gay awakening, she wasn't just an inspiration to enroll in Siegfeld to further pursue acting. Mei Fan is very autistic, has a lot of vocal stims, and gacha games/toy capsules are more than just a hobby, it's a special interest! whenever he gets duplicates he shares them with Yachiyo, Shiori, or anybody else he's close to. the plush keychains on his uniform are comfort items and he gets really nervous when they're not around. and that's why the textures of certain foods make him really uncomfortable! and i'll do one more for now, he would definitely especially at the start of everything before getting closer to everyone, sprinkle in really impressive big words to try fitting into the prestigious vibe of the school and to showcase his growing fluency in learning japanese. which would make some conversations awkward (endearingly) and make michiru very annoyed LMAO

General Opinion over said character: i don't want to make the same joke twice but it's embarrassing that tamao tomoe and liu mei fan are my two highest kins from revue starlight. what does that say about me. asking for a friend. but no fr!! i wish mei fan got more love out of the edels; mei fan and michiru seem to get the short end of the stick when it comes to siegfeld specifically and it's sad! they all are wonderful and deserve the attention, and i'm totally on board with akira and yachiyo being the most popular (as fan club president...) but i've noticed they don't make a lot of mei fan cards compared to the others, there are a lot of roles he's played that aren't in the game (romeo, white rabbit, sun wukong, a dragon, etc) but I hope to see Sun Wukong for the birthday!! coming up very soon!! long rambling aside, mei fan is so silly. perhaps the silliest and i think it's really nice that you sent this in for me to answer! <3

[silentwillowwhisperer]

Poor Keef

I'm so mean to my baby Keef. I'm very sorry. (Keef deserves better.)

Frick canon. I'm writing a thingy that does not follow the course of canon whatsoever, deal with it. (I say that with love. <3)

If feel like I do this exact thing a whole lot.

Oh yeah! Trigger warning, character death, self-doubt/insecurity (like lack of self worth), self-sacrifice, flashbacks (not the good kind), blood. KEEP YOURSELF SAFE PLEASE!!!

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

To his left, Keith sees a starburst explosion bloom out from the side of the blue lion, which flies not far from his own red one. He grits his teeth to keep himself from screaming Lance's name every time he sees the larger lion shudder at the impact of oncoming firing from the Galra.

It's been 2 years. Only 2 years? Keith is surprised by the amount of time that has passed, it feels like a long, blissful lifetime that he's been fighting evil purple cat-people alongside his space family. His only family, really.

And now they're here. Only a couple short years into this war that they stumbled into, and they're about to defeat Zarkon. The blades have already taken down Haggar and the druids that seem to pop up at the absolute worst times. Zarkon is their last target.

They have a whole plan.

And for once, Keith will stick to the plan. He puts the team in jeopardy far too often with his reckless tendencies.

The next impact forces a startled grunt out of him, and he sees nothing but Galra cruisers everywhere.

His team is surrounded, all fighting for their lives at this point.

We're not going to win this. We might not even make it out of this alive.

Keith wants to sob. To yell, to speak his mind, to curse these goddamn aliens for not being able to fight their own wars.

His hands shake as he clutches at Red's controls desperately. He grips tighter and tighter until he sees his knuckles turn white, until he sees his pale skin tear at the soft parts between his fingers like his skin is nothing but paper, until little red rivers crawl down his hands and soak slowly into his undersuit.

Red nudges at the back of his mind to let go, telling him that he's hurting, that he needs to come back.

He's thrown into the past the second he finally closes his fear-stricken eyes.

There's a large, warm hand wrapped around his. "Keith. Keith, bud, are you listening? That building- do you see it? Yeah, good. It's burning and there's a lady in it. I- I'll be back, okay?" Small, trembling Keith watches his father sprint off into the fire. Because that's his job, isn't it? He's a hero. But to be a hero, you have to give up a whole lot. For the first time in his life, Keith sees past the rose-colored glasses that he's been peering through his whole life. His dad, the one that buys him ice cream every Monday after school, the one that drives him far out into the desert just to point up at the sky and say, "See? The sky will always be the same. It'll always be here for you, bud," the one who likes to laugh while he watches horror movies with a far-too-young Keith, the one who tells Keith to, "Stop. Open your eyes, Keith," even when they're already wide open, is now running straight into a flaming building. And Keith finally opens his eyes. Wide open. His dad will never choose Keith, he never has. He just keeps running into every building he sees, never stopping to think about the small child who needs him more than anyone else. But if you keep looking for flames, you're bound to get burnt.

Keith's breathing slows. He opens his eyes to look around. There. Zarkon. He's standing atop the biggest cruiser, watching Voltron getting pulverized by his troops with an almost smile on his face.

Keith really was going to follow the plan this time. Or, at least the most important part of it: take down Zarkon.

He remembers the briefing that took place before all of this. Allura's voice plays out in his head. "Zarkon is using extra power to supercharge his fleets for this battle. We destroy his main cruiser, and we destroy the empire."

Keith turns on his comms.

"Guys. Stop fighting. You're only getting yourselves hurt more."

He hears the others protest weakly, but they know a lost battle when they see one, too.

"I got this, retreat to the castle."

Shiro yells out his name. "I know what you're thinking. Keith, don't do it! Regroup with us, we can end this some other way."

"Not without more lives lost. I-I want to say thanks. To.. all of you. For giving me a family, and for accepting me. I really do love you. All of you."

And with that, he pushes the accelerator all the way forward. So far forward, in fact, that the lever snaps off.

Going out as a hero.

Red. Red surrounds him, then orange and yellow, and then the sound comes back to his ears even though he never noticed it leave.

He hears his friends begging him to stop, the growing whoosh of flames enveloping the lion, and the sound of his own nail digging into the fabric of his chair.

And then it's all gone.

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

Hmmm. I don't like this one as much as my other 'Keith is angsty' things that I write. Oh, well.

If you can't deal with angst, alt ending: the team finds red partially intact, they get Keith's body, and are able to save him. And he loses a limb. Or or or, he goes blind in one eye. Or both!

Alt, alt ending, they get his body but can't save him. Lance never falls in love again. : ) (I'm not normal.)

[furyisms]

@dutyworn asked:

3, 4, 5, 8 for questions for the mun meme

3. whose writing has impacted your writing style the most? (you can choose anyone! famous writer or not.)

Honestly? I can't think of anyone, because I've been writing for so long that I was never really... influenced by it? I think a lot of early, heavily creative works influenced me to some degree (I read Harry Potter when I was young, for example). I think maybe what influenced my choice of fandoms was Tamora Pierce & her Song of the Lioness quartet and Protector of the Small quartet (set in her Tortall universe) which really, really drove my love for fantasy universes. As for sci-fi universes, Enchantress From The Stars by Sylvia Engdahl definitely did that because it was kind of both.

4. which muse of yours is your all time favorite? if you stopped writing them: why?

I don't know if I have an "all time" favourite, but I always go through periods where I miss writing Sakura Haruno from Naruto. She was one of the first muses I really went in-depth with and was attached to, and the reason I quit is because the fandom has just become this toxic cesspool. She has a canon ship, and that canon ship happens to be my favourite, but there is a lot of misinformation surrounding her ship partner and the nature of their relationship (claiming it's toxic, when it's really not, along with boatloads of misogyny lauded at Sakura herself by generally male fans) and just a lot of wild, unrepentant hate for her character. It's present in the RP fandom as well from what I've noticed & I just grew tired of dealing with it. I want to write her, but I think if I bring her back for a muse, it'll just be with one particular partner that I know writes her other (canonical) ship half in the series, and I'm pretty sure in posting this they'll know who they are because I've mentioned it LMAO. I may also just write her with close friends & nothing else if I do write her again, and she'll be very plot-focused.

5. is there a muse you really want to try? if yes: what’s stopping you?

Not at the moment, really; a few months ago I would have said that was Miranda, although I've now gone ahead with that. What was stopping me before was that I just hadn't really researched her character much if at all, and I'm usually someone who only focuses on a few characters from a fandom in order to write them (as I generally get very invested in them & post quite a few headcanons about them). I do think I need to work on expanding Miranda a fair bit, though.

8. do you expect your answered memes/asks to be turned into threads? regardless of answer, what’s your reasoning?

Generally speaking... yes. I post them in a new post for this reason, & I've noticed over the years (particularly recently) that a lot of muns seem to not want to plot out dynamics or stick with ideas. They either don't reach out, don't contribute anything if you reach out, & that becomes kind of disappointing. It's rare to find anyone who actually wants to write a big, overarching plot idea any more and stick with it (with some regularity to replies) because there's this... need for instant-gratification in the RPC. So generally, yes--I do expect that to be the case, because they're great icebreakers. I don't mind if at some point we roll with the idea and make a plot out of it (in fact I love those ideas) but I really don't like putting out a bunch of writing for it not to go somewhere (unless the meme itself is intended that way, because some certainly are).

[mieczyhale]

steve harrington deserves love, support, and comforr so much and i love that there's so many fics now where he gets that, be they steddie fice or not.

but i gotta wonder why steve, especially in steddie fics, is the only one people seem to think needs and deserves love, support, and comfort.

almost every fic is about steve's suffering and eddie being there for steve, being steve's sunshine and all that, but the love / support / comfort should go both ways in a relationship so.. where is steve being there for eddie?? and not just 'helps eddie while he's hiding out'.

you're telling me that you think eddie has never suffered, never dealt with anything that would leave him with lasting damage physically, mentally, or emotionally until chrissy died?? really?? or does he not matter as much as steve - even when you think they should be together?? (maybe it’s just me but shipping two people but only caring about one of them feels like you only ship it bc they’re attractive) or are you (very incorrectly) assuming steve wouldn't be just as attentive and caring and protective??

steve has been beaten and mocked and hurt and neglected - all by people he cares about too - while all he does is love, protect, and defend and he DESERVES fics where all of that is acknowledged and where he is given the love no one else will give him. where he finally has someone around to believe in him. and i LOVE that we collectively decided the person best suited for that is eddie. bc we’re right.

look.

i get it.

eddie is the newer character,

we’ve had steve for years.

but that makes the reverse also true.

eddie has been beaten and bullied and hurt and neglected by just about everyone aside from his uncle up until we meet him in s4. even the other guys in hellfire don’t seem like they’re THAT close to eddie. like they obviously like him and admire him but that’s not the same as someone genuinely caring about you.

we don’t have a ton of canon information on eddie’s past, but we also don’t have a ton of canon information on steve’s either and we’ve come up with some really good believable theories. and i know people have done that for eddie as well. and even if you only want to stick to what we know is FACT you easily end up with eddie’s dad not being a good person, to a point that eddie now lives with his uncle. and there’s.. nothing potentially traumatizing or upsetting that could’ve happened in there??

and parents aside: he’s been bullied and judged by just about everyone bc he’s so obviously different. and while he wears the mantle of “freak” with as much pride as he can, we’re shown in a moment that it still hurts sometimes. like after robin tells eddie that “everyone and their shallow-minded mother is going to be after you” in s4e3 and eddie replies “hunt the freak, right?” and his /voice/. his face.

eddie deserves love and acceptance, he deserves to have someone stick up for him, defend him and protect him.

and if eddie is the person most suited to be there for steve, then steve is the person most suited to be there for eddie.

it would be nice if more people would show that, write that.

let eddie be loved. let eddie be saved from vecna and jason and the world. let steve use his nailbat to defend eddie from the physical horrors and his serious cuddle abilities to protect eddie from the mental and emotional ones. let steve soften the hurt of all the fuckin bullshit that has made eddie’s eyes cynical in the first place

i just want to read about steve and eddie without it feeling like the people writing them don’t give a shit about eddie, or think of him only as an attractive plot device. there’s nothing wrong with steve-centric hurt/comfort, it’s just so much more.. There (since s4 aired) and i read a lot of fics and fic summaries so it’s become painfully obvious which way steddie fics tend to lean. and it’s kinda sad