#but of course i don't own them nor i mean to 'steal' them

[moondirti]

Hellloooo🖤 I’m the anon who asked about the Safehouse story!

My brain, unfortunately, is not nearly as wrinkly as yours so I cannot come up with creative ideas like you 😂 BUT! I have a few ideas? Maybe? If you can call them that lol.

Was the spanking the first physical interaction they had? What did the morning after that look like?

What happens if reader has a nasty mental health episode & tries to hide it from Ghost?

Does the pet thing progress? I think we all know that Ghost has a thing for the pet play. I don’t even care, that’s totally canon for me at this point.

Would you ever consider writing about the general dynamic they have? Like the “rules” Ghost might have for them?

Totally and completely a self indulgent ask from someone who just had to pull themselves out of a nasty mental health episode lmao I’m so sorry please ignore this if it’s annoying or dumb!

shh i love all of these. i have so many thoughts now / prev

cw: dubcon d/s lifestyle. petplay. controlling behaviour. possessiveness. panic attacks. toxicity. noncon collaring. financial manipulation. mention of self harm. brief fluff.

Your thing with Simon is hard to contextualise.

Or even understand, really.

Parts of it are welcome. He asserts himself in a way you haven't found in the nobodies you've hooked up with previous, happy to fuck you dumb if it means you'll surrender yourself completely. Which you do. You listen intently and follow every direction he gives in bed, and as a reward he wrings orgasm after orgasm from your squirming body. You cum more in one week than you have in the past month, never not naked and sore, wrists tender from where he anchors his hand to keep them pinned above your head. You hear puppy more than your own name, at this point. And it's a concerning because– Well...

You don't mind it.

But you still don't like him.

It isn't like you necessarily need to like your partners in order to have a good time, but it certainly helps if you can tolerate them beyond a dick-in-hole condition. Simon is an anomaly in that he is the worst person you know, whilst also serving as the best lay you've ever had.

That is to say, his habits haven't changed. He's a fucking terror to live with. Nightmare flatmate, the type you see strangers complain about on reddit forums or hear in a friends story from their sister's husband's cousin. Not something you would take seriously until you live the experience – now existing as a sore, precautionary tale you'll no doubt be pitching to anyone also considering subleasing their place as a safe house.

Perhaps it's made worse by the sexual element you share. Before, he had just been your average perverse man, stealing clothes and walking in on you in the bathroom. Now, it seems that sleeping with him has given him the go-ahead to push that behaviour to an extreme. He'll pat your ass while you go about your business, or tug your hair when you raise your voice. Treats you like a pet that has yet to be debarked; just a silly, sub-human way of entertainment.

You can't help but feel you enabled it. But no–

The pet play is cute when he's drilling your brains out – and perhaps only because you can't think straight enough to raise concern – but you're not a dog. Nor do you want to be treated like one throughout all hours of the day. The onus is on him for not catching the hint.

But of course, accountability isn't in his lexicon.

Things only get worse from there.

"An' where d'you think you're going?"

You're halfway out of the door when he catches you leaving.

If you had been more iron-willed, you would slip out and scurry away before he can continue whatever spiel he has stirring. Instead, it's instinct to shrivel in on yourself, clicking the door shut before turning to face the behemoth waiting in the foyer.

"Out." You huff, intent on cold-stoning him. But it's a fools game when your opponent in the broad-shouldered lieutenant – for he merely cocks his head, waiting your silence out with more silence, and it's all you can do to bite your tongue against the deluge of excuses that pile up. "My mates thought it would be a good idea to catch brunch. Y'know– to celebrate the start of summer break. It's a nice day out so..." You gesture to your attire, like you have any reason to justify a sundress to some man you are in no way committed to.

But you can read the possessive gleam of his eyes as they take stock of your appearance: from your expensive mules, up your moisturised legs, to the low cut of your décolletage. It's easy to connect it to that look he had when you came back home that fateful night, the look of warning before he'd taken you over his lap and slapped your ass raw.

And for some odd reason, you're compelled to dig yourself out of trouble.

"Hm. It is a nice day, innit?" You nod a bit too quick. He stalks closer. "Lots of people out." Your nod is a little less enthusiastic. He's centimetres away now. "Some bad, bad men too."

He lifts the ends of your dress, slowly. Your next words quiver on their way out your chest. It's alarming to find that they don't sound nearly as assertive as you intend for them to be, not like they do horny.

"Where are you going with this?"

Your skirt pools around your hips now, held up by one hand as the other smooths over with the gusset of your panties.

"You plan on lettin' them have at this puppycunt? Have I not been givin' it enough attention?" He mockingly coos, pressing harder against the mound between your legs. Your knees grow weak. Not of your own accord, but weak nonetheless, and you have to hold onto his wrist to keep yourself upright. "Is tha' it?"

"N-No–"

"No? But that's what they'll think seeing you walk around like this, silly thing. Poor, neglected mutt, they'll say. Don't have a firm hand to keep 'er in line." Simon tuts, releasing his grip on your dress to pull something out of his back pocket. With the way he crowds into you, you can't crane your head to see what it is. "Now we can't have tha'. I spoil my girl rotten, wouldn' you say?"

"Yes. Yes but–"

"No buts, pup. Have ta stake my claim on you somehow." Something clicks. All too suddenly, you're made aware of the new weight on your neck. It tightens against the column of your throat – not enough to constrict your airways, but enough so that it hinders the way you move. "There we go. So pretty like this."

Panic seizes you, the steel fist of paralysis capturing your muscles in a vice-like clutch. Even as Simon pulls away, you're almost scared to find yourself in the nearest mirror. Scared of what you'll find dangling between your collarbones. There's no mistaking the textured leather that presses against your skin, nor the soft clink of metal hanging from it. No fooling yourself that this is all some cruel joke, not with the sick leer of satisfaction that warps his face.

Stumbling, you navigate to the bathroom and blindly turn on a light.

That cruel fuck.

"Simon," Your voice is devoid of the anger you feel roaring through your veins, circuiting through the frenzied stutter of your heart to find new passion. Instead, you sound horrified. Near hysterical, choking on your own pleas as you run back to the foyer. Your hands tug at the collar clasped around your neck, desperately searching for a buckle that will aid you in ripping it off, despite seeing the lock latched right at the centre that tells of its permanence. What's more, he had it engraved with a crude variation of a dog collar tag. If lost, leave alone. Or else count your days. "S-Simon, Simon please. Fuck– take it off. Take it off, take it off! I don't want this, I don't want... This isn't funny. I'll change if that's what it takes. Please."

Snot bursts from your nose, cheeks wet with a hot mess of tears. You can't suppress the hiccups that interrupt your begging like pathetic shots to the chest, or the weak hits you beat across his pecs. If you could, then perhaps he would give your tantrum more weight.

As it stands, you're nothing but a feral creature resisting training.

"Shhh. Pets can' speak. Pets don't cry." His thumbs press to your under eyes, tamping the flow of brine that mark steady tracks from your lashes. "You'll ruin your makeup like this."

"Si–"

He stare hardens into something dangerous. Against your better judgment, you clamp your lips shut.

"That's it. You're s'good when you listen to me, pup." Once he's sure you've stopped crying, he removes his thumbs to instead push one into your mouth. You can taste the salty residue of your tears on his fingertips. "Now, this is the bes' of both worlds, see? You can go see your friends with this on. I know pets need their playtime, af'er all."

You arch your back in protest, but all that does is bring you closer to the lieutenant. He misinterprets that entirely, of course, and a small smile breaks his face like you've agreed to his terms. A heavy palm pats your ass.

"S'jus' so you don't forget who you belong to." He chuckles. "An' if your friends like the idea, then I have a few friends for them."

You make it one block before hightailing back home.

Nothing in you wanted to give that bastard the satisfaction, but he made it so that whatever you chose to do – stay home or leave wearing a symbol of his ownership – he'd end up triumphant. Naturally, then, you opted for the lesser of two evils: to leave his vicinity immediately. Besides, you'd promised your girls you'd see them after going AWOL the past fortnight, and you knew you'd get an earful if you decided to reschedule at the last moment.

You thought you would convince them it was a bet. That the collar is just some silly joke you have to bear for the day after a football match didn't go in your favour.

But you make it one block before a tradie on his lunch break catcalls you (you about that freaky ting, beautiful?) and decide to change course completely.

You arrive back at your flat without further incident. Ego stung from the various odd looks you received on your way, but nothing as egregious as being singled out as a freak in the midst of a crowd occurs again.

Still, your hands shake as you push your key into its slot.

Which progress to full body tremors as you turn it in place.

Thankfully, Simon isn't waiting on you on the other side of the door. He sits, manspreading on the couch instead, focus zeroed in on the telly that broadcasts Fulham v Man City. When he doesn't look away, you allow yourself to hope he hadn't heard you come in. But it's a naive pool to place your faith in. Nothing escapes the man, and soon enough, his tone of humoured indifference shatters the silence you've been precariously trying to keep.

"Miss me 'lready?"

A wretched sulk, pit of anger hollowing out anew. You swiftly snatch your laptop from the breakfast bar before storming to your room, making sure to lock the door firmly behind you.

The website is bookmarked. Taunting. Sublet your home as a safehouse for our armed forces. Serve your country and help soldiers find refuge. You would laugh if you weren't so single-minded, typing in your email and password upon being prompted to. You don't have to deal with this shit any longer, nor do you intend to. If you remember correctly, there had been a way to report any problems you face. If you phrase yours right, you might just get Simon pulled from your services.

Good dick be damned.

But when you hit enter to sign in, an error message blinks in red.

Account does not exist.

Which is fine. Shit like this happens all the time. There's no reason to work yourself into a panic, you probably just used the wrong email.

So you try your alternate. Account does not exist.

It feels unlikely, but maybe you'd created it under your school email to give yourself credibility. Only–

Account does not exist.

Your blood pressure is no doubt sky high by now. Other symptoms of stress already start to wrack through you – blurry vision, chest aches, difficulty breathing. Your hands sweat excessively as you dig for the customer care number you're sure exists somewhere, efforts impaired by the ever-present weight of the collar around your neck. You wonder if Simon can smell your anxiety like a predator does its prey. If he's in the other room, salivating, waiting for you to wobble out of your room to go for the kill. Some part of you – a needlessly paranoid part – rests on the conclusion that this is somehow his fault too.

Your phone already rings in an outgoing call once you blink back to the present. While you've been functioning on autopilot, you must have found a number to call that related close enough to your issue.

And your suspicion is confirmed when an automated voice picks up. You are currently... second... in line.

It takes five minutes. When a placating woman speaks up amidst the nauseating music they have queued, you can hardly contain yourself from word-vomiting onto her. Safehouse signup. Lost account. Need to report an issue. Please. It's urgent.

"Okay ma'am. If you could give me your name, I'll be happy to find the source of your problem today." You can't spell it out any faster. "Alright. One moment, please."

"O-okay." You sniffle miserably.

"I see. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that you've been pulled from the program after a complaint was lodged against you. Unfortunately I can't provide more detail than that, but if you need anything else, I would be happy to assi–"

You hang up. The poor thing doesn't need to hear the incensed scream that tears from the deepest parts of you, or the following crack as you chuck your cell at the wall. She'd done what she could. It isn't her fault. It was that self-serving bastard that had you blacklisted from the only thing keeping you financially afloat. It is that that self-serving bastard that continues to occupy space inside your home, despite having no real right to it now.

The tantrum isn't near cathartic enough to unfetter you from your prison of aggravation, and you continue to take it out on everything in your near radius. Your duvet and pillows. The lotion you keep by your beside table. Your own skin, nails piercing into the soft flesh of your palms.

And especially the collar constricting your throat, like vines that tighten at the first sign of struggle.

You have to get this collar off. Even if you fail at everything else, you have to get this collar off.

Scrambling off your bed, you turn your room upside down looking for a bobby pin or a knife. One is unquestionably the safer bet, but you know you'll sit for hours trying to pick the lock that keeps you shackled – so when you find the boxcutter sitting at the bottom of your junk drawer, you immediately take it to your neck.

Just as Simon barges into your room.

You're so far gone, you don't even question how this must look to him. In fact, it doesn't occur to you that you locked your door, and that the only way he could've gotten in is by having a replica of your key. No. You merely twist away from the all-encompassing hold he wraps around your arms, determined to keep the boxcutter away from his confiscation until you can slice through the leather.

But you're crying. Visibly, alarmingly unstable. And Simon's breaths are a little faster than normal, faltering in a way they only do when he's close to climax. He must be worried, which is a funny thought, seeing as he's the reason you're in this mess.

"Alright thas– that's enough of that." He grunts after managing to pry the blade from your hand. You hardly mourn the loss, rather crumbling in on yourself as your sobbing escalates. No longer frustrated, nor determined. Just primed into a suffocating panic attack.

Somewhere in your auditory periphery, you hear the clinking of glass. It doesn't register until he holds a vial of lavender extract you keep under your nose, forcing you to inhale the medicinal aroma. Soon enough, your mouth opens to swallow gulps of unscented air alongside it, and the imposed breathing exercise calms you to a point of blubbering calm.

(For someone so apathetic, you admit he handled that expertly.)

That isn't the end of it, though. Moments later, you're lifted off your feet. He cradles you in both arms as he makes his way to your bed, sitting up against the headboard and placing you on his lap. Safe. Undisturbed.

You say nothing, pressing your wet face into his shirt. For comfort, first and foremost, but the makeup that'll undoubtedly stain the white fabric is an added bonus.

"Know this is hard for y'to understand, pup." Simon begins. "Hard for you ta wrap your head around ownership after bein' alone for s'long. I won't punish you for tha'."

"Y-You don't own me." You accuse.

He shakes his head in response, like your mind is truly as little as he claims. Like you're a dog, complete with two ears and a tail, and he plucked you off the street on the condition that you heel.

If anything, he's the stray.

"Oh, but I do." A large hand rubs circles on your back. Never have you been so conflicted, so torn between leaning in and biting back. "Just don't see it yet, pet. Bu' you will, in time. And in the meanwhile, we'll establish some ground rules to help you adjust."

[phntxm]

If you go on a blind date

} fem! reader, muzan in 3rd year high school, he have a crush on you but won't let you know (ofc), mean muzan, jealous muzan, reader's action a bit dumb(it's for the scenarios, I don't like it too lol), might have part 2 a/n; why I change my format every post lmao, not a long post ig / quick writing work

" what did you just say? " muzan stopped abruptly while packing his own belongings into his bag after hearing that you were going on a blind date

" I will be going on a blind date! " you repeated.

"... so instead of tutoring today, you're just going to waste your time on a blind date?" he asked with a mixture of disappointment and frustration. today, you and he have tutoring after school. in fact, all week, you have been having tutoring classes together after school, but muzan chose to tutor alone as he found the tutoring class did not meet his expectations, so you two will be tutoring together

" c’mon it’s not like I would be on a date everyday, it’s just one day " you say " and also this is not my idea in the first place, I just go with my friends because they want it to be in couple number " you added 

" and why won’t they just take someone else, it’s not like you’re the only student here " he replies

" yeah, and why won’t you let me, it’s not like we have tutoring only one day " you tried using the same reasons from him, sometimes we should have some fun, being with him was so boring, focus on studying isn't bad but he's way too boring

" you really want to go that badly?" he asked, noticing your excitement as you nodded eagerly

" tch, just don’t get too carried away," he said, his reluctance evident in his tone as he reluctantly agreed to let you go

after the blind date, you and the guy went on a few more dates as you liked each other. now, you skip tutoring with muzan more often, and of course, he did not take that well

he's so grumpy; everything and everyone in his sight is just... not right

the day after, he asked about your blind date in a nonchalant way, but deep down, he's so fvcking curious

he wants to know every detail: where you went, what you talked about. oh, you might have even laughed at a stupid joke because you're like that—smiling and laughing with strangers like an idiot

but the most important thing he wants to know is who the guy you went on a date with is

he tried to make you stay with him after school by saying things like the exam would be so hard, you have to stay for tutoring with him. If he takes you to his house for tutoring, he would finish very late just to have his personal driver take you home before bedtime

if your date went well;

not letting muzan meet him would be the best

muzan will try to win your heart

eell, muzan doesn't see it as 'stealing' you back because you're his, all for him. you guys are not even in a serious relationship. one day, you will be back for him. right now, you are seeing someone else. It's not stealing because you never belonged to anyone else

first, he would blame the guy you are dating, bad-mouth him, then blame all men. 'all men are like this, you can't trust any of them' he blames you, he blames everyone except himself. all of this just for you to stop seeing anyone

he doesn't like worthless methods, nor methods that would affect him or you

like spreading bad rumors: if it would affect you by making you look bad for dating that guy, he might put it last on his list. but it doesn't mean that he won't use it, because he could be the one who consoles your heart from whatever bad happened to you (that's because of him)

if your date went bad; he might go around dating with other girl, breaks your heart etc.

oh, as it should

he would bad-mouth the guy even though he knows nothing about him

now, the tutoring with him will be stricter. he will make sure you're performing well in your exams so that he can claim it's because of his tutoring that you're improving

if you're thinking about going on a date with another guy or seeing anyone...

no, you can't

he would remind you every time about your bad date, even though it was your first and only time doing it, to make sure you won't go anywhere

" don't you remember that damn date that had you depressed for a week?! "

" I know I was wrong for that. This time, I think this guy might be okay "

" so once is not enough, you want to embarrass yourself for a second time? Are you really that stupid? "

he tried, he tried so hard to be the only guy you want

he would suggest that you tutor in a place other than at school or his house, such as a café or any coffee shop you prefer, but without making it seem like an 'obvious date'

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Disclaimer in advance: I haven't watched season 4 or 5 in their entirety, nor do I intend to, so maybe I'm missing info. Most of my knowledge comes from lurking in the fandom.

Why do you think the show was seemingly allergic to allowing their main characters to make any sort of meaningful progress? At the end of season 1, Ladybug comes into possession of the Miraculous grimoire, a major clue that "Hey, Hawkmoth is probably Gabriel Agreste" and then the Collector immediately ends with her and Adrien placing him completely above suspicion (I actually don't mind this, it makes sense for Gabe to throw the two off the trail, but to the best of my knowledge, this is the only time the protagonists make any headway toward Hawk Moth's identity. I wish they had done more active investigation.)

The power up potions show up during Syren, except... they don't do much in the way of a "power up." They're used exceedingly sparingly, and really only let LB and CN compensate for environmental challenge. Nothing else, no actual evolution. This could've been a way to show LB getting more in sync with her powers, being able to create specific solutions to her problems. You could've had similar moments for Chat Noir, upgrade like the ranged cataclysm Chat Blanc could use, or something to do with bad luck. Instead, it was a cheap gimmick.

The temp heroes start getting called in beginning with Sapotis, except that most of them are called in because... you're here and I need this incredibly specific power, which you just so happen to be perfectly suited for. Shut up and do nothing follow orders. (The episode Party Crasher and King Monkey being the most egregious example, imo. Then again, i havent watched Penalteam, and I'm told that episode is far worse). The temp heroes don't really add anything to the plot (Save Rena suddenly being Ladybug's confidant, but that's a rant for another day.), except to cause conflict with CN, and they're all gone as of the Season 4 finale anyway.

Speaking of season 4, the charms. Finally, concrete progress, a way to limit hawkmoth, to cut him off from potential vic— wait what the hell is a megakuma? Why do this? What was the point? This is what I was talking about with Syren, Ladybug coming further into her powers, finally being able to start pushing Gabriel into a corner, and it's undone that same season. Apparently transmission is more powerful than creation, despite repeated assurances the Ladybug (and Marinette) are special.

And then there's the alliance rings. Why can Tomoe and Gabriel make these? No idea. What it means, though, is that LB and CN have no chance of reclaiming the lost miraculous, and just have to passively react to whatever the hell Monarch is up to... again.

I'm told that for the big finale, Marinette wasn't even the one to discover Gabriel's identity, Felix straight up told her, and then Gabriel won. He made his wish. The hero of the story failed to save the day, after doing practically nothing.

Whats extra annoying is that on the Villain side, Gabriel is absolutely allowed to push the status quo. First we get Scarlet Moth and mass akumatization, then the peacock comes out, then it gets fixed, and then Gabriel straight up steals all the Miraculous (save LB and CN's of course, and then they steal the rabbit back because the writers realized "time travelling villain" was a horrendous idea. And Felix is allowed to keep the Peacock, because ??? Gabriel has to my knowledge not given up any other power, before or since). And he's always held the power, he's never been at risk of losing his own miraculous because he doesn't need to go out in person, so why does he keep getting stronger and raising the stakes while the heroes can't do anything.

Sorry for being so long-winded, just... needed to get my thoughts out.

Put on your tinfoil hats, folks! We're gonna make some educated guesses as to what is going behind the scenes with Miraculous, but remember that these are, ultimately, guesses. I don't know the full story and I probably never well.

I've mentioned before that writing for TV can suck because you're not allowed pure creative freedom. There are a lot of hands in the pot limiting what you can do because TV shows cost hundreds of thousands of dollars to make. Some even cost millions. That means that final product needs to be considered commercially viable unless you're independently wealthy and have money to burn. This doesn't mean that passion projects can't be commercially viable, it just means that they're generally not approached with the idea that commercial viability is the most important thing.

Writing for children's shows can especially suck because you're heavily limited by the intended audience and by what large corporations deem acceptable for that intended audience. If you're not totally on board with keeping things Disney's version of kid-friendly, then you're not going to have a fun time.

This brings us to Miraculous.

I have often assumed that there were some wacky hi-jinks going on behind the scenes that would explain why the show is such a mess because I don't think that Miraculous is anyone's ideal version of the core concept. The wonderful @nixthelapin recently confirmed it for me by sending me a link to a translation of a lecture given by Miraculous' writing director.

In that interview, we get hard confirmation that the core members of the writing staff originally wanted to tell a darker story for adults or teens, which may explain all the random dark stuff that the show will include but totally fail to explore. We also got this:

Sebastien sold the Miraculous series to broadcasters as a formula show. A person gets angry, is akumatized, then marinette transforms into Ladybug then frees the person from the akumatization and… The End. It's also for this reason that Marinette tries to confess her love for Adrien in every episode, but is unable to do so. But he tried to go against what he had planned with TF1, by slipping little extra stories into certain episodes. Audiences were receptive to these slightly hidden stories. The TV channel even asked Sébastien if there really were hidden things in the series, but he denied everything.

So there you go. There's the hard confirmation of my theory. Miraculous was sold as a formula show so it's mostly written like a formula show, but the writers want to do more than a formula show, so they're adding in all these hints of something more, leading to massive fan frustration when those things don't lead to satisfying plots because, if they did, then it wouldn't be a formula show!

I get the temptation to do what they did, I really do, but I don't think that it was a good move. They would have been better off trying to make an awesome formula show or by being a lot more selective in what greater story elements they wanted to include. There are things that you can develop in formula shows while still keeping them formula shows. One thing that comes to mind is subtle character development. For example, they could have set up all of the temp heroes by giving them strong roles in one-off episodes. Roles that established their heroic potential. What you can't do well in formula shows is complex character development like the mess that was everything with Chloe and Lila.

This may also explain why we get baffling statements like this one from that interview that the writers gave at the end of season five:

Mélanie says that he "could become Chat Blanc" and the others add that even though he does not remember and has never lived it, Chat Blanc still has an influence on his actions.

Are they trying to let Chat Blanc effect the plot without breaking the formula element? If so, then dear gods, this is not how you add subtle continuity to your formula show!!! But that may be what they were trying to do here and in many other places. After all, we also get gems like this:

They note that Marinette's nightmare at the beginning is reminiscent of the episode Weredad from season 3. At this point, we can see that Marinette starts to understand who the villain is although she's not fully conscious of it yet. Thomas says that you can read it in two different ways: if you don't take the previous episode into account, she's starting to intuitively link things together but if you did see Representation, you know that she knows who Monarch really is.

I'm seeing a common thread. What about you?

While the writing director interview doesn't say this, I'm assuming stuff like the charms, the powerups, and the additional heroes come from a similar type of issue. My best guess is that these weren't elements that the writers wanted to add. They were things that marketing made them add to sell toys and so the writers shoehorned these items in because they couldn't find a way to organically fit these elements. I'm not blaming either side for that issue, btw. There isn't really a clear right side in the fight of creative freedom vs a show needing to make money to keep being made.

Since we're talking about that interview, I'll point out that we also got confirmation of another wacky writing rule to add to the list of poor writing choices:

The driving force behind the series is that there must always be a secret between Marinette and Adrien. The lovesquare can never be broken, otherwise there's no series.

"Our main couple can never be fully honest with each other or else there's no story" is a pretty awful rule, but it's what they're going with and that's a big part of why the love square is a mess. It's also a rule that I've often assumed was there based on the writing, but it's nice to get official confirmation of it.

None of this is to absolve the writers of blame nor is it to say that everything is their fault. The point here is that Miraculous' problems are a complex mess of everyone trying to make a good final product without being on the same page with what that final product should look like, resulting in a show that will never live up to the full potential of what anyone wanted for it.

[minniethemoocherda]

Just A Friend To You

A/N: Thank you so much to @pkmndaisuki for agreeing to be my beta reader for this fic! I never would have spotted any of my spelling mistakes otherwise lol! Please go check out their amazing X-men art! I hope you guys enjoy the fic! I know I don't post that frequently but I am trying my best to help keep this ship afloat! Xxxxxx

Ao3

FF.net

From across the diner, Morph watched as Jubilee and Roberto inched ever closer to one another, neither of them quite yet taking to leap to touch.

Ah, the perils of young love, Morph thought. Although it wasn't as if the perils of love stopped once you became an adult. Something that they knew all too well as they turned their attention to the man sitting opposite them.

When Logan had learnt that the two teens were going on a date, he had demanded that he chaperone them. After many protests, Jubilee had agreed, on the condition that Morph also came along to make sure Logan didn't stab anyone, namely Roberto.

Which was how Morph came to find themselves that Saturday afternoon, watching a date, whilst on a not-date with the man they were in love with.

Most times when they and Logan were hanging out they would be roughhousing, or watching TV, or playing basketball. But here there was nothing to do but just enjoy each other's company. It was nice.

Morph wore their usual human form but with dark jeans and a pink crop top that they may or may not have borrowed from Gambit's wardrobe.

Wolverine was reluctantly wearing a buttoned shirt, because Jubilee had demanded that if he insisted on stalking them then he should at least look presentable. Morph was pretty sure that Logan had stolen his shirt too, probably from Scott, especially given that it was at least three sizes too small for him. He'd had to roll up the sleeves to hide how short they were and left the two buttons undone as it wasn't wide enough to fit across the expanse of his chest. Not that Morph was complaining about the view.

Nor were they complaining about the sweet potato fries that came with their burger.

"You should try one of these," Morph told him as they dipped one of those said sweet potato fries in ketchup.

The next second, Logan leant over the table and bit the one that Morph had been holding between their fingers. Which under different circumstances could have been romantic, but instead reminded Morph of when their old family dog would steal scraps of food from the table.

"I didn't mean that one you animal!" Morph cried, throwing a fry at his face.

But Logan bit that one too, catching it in his mouth, which then spread into a wide grin. With the ketchup dripping from his teeth onto his white shirt, he really did look like an animal.

In retaliation, Morph stole one of his onion rings which Logan protested with a "Hey!" But didn't otherwise complain.

Of course, that was when Roberto finally got the courage to make a move and draped his arm over Jubilee's shoulder.

Morph heard the familiar snikt of Logan drawing his claws from under the table.

"Calm down Wolvie." Morph said, reaching under the table to wrap their hand around his wrist. "I doubt he's gonna try to jump her in the middle of a diner. And even if he did, Jubilee can handle herself."

"She sure can." Logan said, his snarl turning into a proud smirk as he put his claws away.

Now, Logan might say that he didn't like kids, but Morph had seen how he interacted with them.

He always gave into Jubilee's demands to go shopping, or play video games with her, no matter how much he said he wouldn't. And when the teenager needed a non-judgmental shoulder to cry on, he was always there.

Morph knew Logan didn't want kids of his own, and in their line of work they couldn't really blame him. But still, they couldn't help but think it was a shame. He really would make a good father.

It was just one of the many reasons why they loved him.

Suddenly the waitress appeared next to their table and Morph realised that they were still holding Logan's wrist. They quickly retreated it back.

Thankfully, the waitress appeared not to notice, too busy trying to balance an overstuffed bowl of ice cream, sauce and sprinkles in her hand that she placed on their table.

"We didn't order that, lady," Logan told her.

"I know. The girl over there did," the waitress replied, pointing over to Jubilee where a similar looking desert was placed upon her table. When Jubilee caught them looking her way, she waved a cheeky grin and Robert just looked confused.

By the time Morph looked back, the waitress was gone and Logan was digging a scoop out of the ice cream.

"What?" Logan shrugged, shoving the spoonful into his mouth. "I ain't gonna waste free food."

Melted ice cream dripped down Wolverine's chin adding to the collection of stains on that poor shirt, and Morph took a scoop themselves to try to distract themselves from that train of thought.

They had to admit that the dessert was pretty good, not too creamy yet not too solid with a perfect balance of ice cream and toppings.

Logan must have thought so too because as he licked his spoon he let out a low rumbling moan. Morph knew that in this form, they had to have been blushing at pink as their t-shirt. Not even Logan dipping one of the left over fries in to it could lessen their blush, so they did their best to hide it by ducking behind the large bowl as they ate the remainder of the monster of a dessert.

But try as they might, Morph couldn't distract themselves from the thoughts in their head. Logan had to know how this looked right? The pair of them, sharing a dessert. Morph swore they had already seen some of the other diner patrons giving them funny looks. Maybe Logan didn't care? Or maybe he wasn't as hyper-aware about appearances as Morph was?

At least their internal breakdown didn't last for too long, thanks to Logan's never ending appetite.

Morph glanced over at Jubilee's table to see that they had finished too.

Now all that was left was to pay the bill.

"I'll get it." Logan said, grabbing some bills from his trouser pockets. "I'm the one who dragged you into comin' with me."

"Wow, a burger, some frees and a free dessert. You really know how to treat a girl." Morph teased, as if the idea of Logan ever treating them to a real date would be a complete joke.

"Fine." Logan snorted, handing the money over to the waitress. "Next time I'll persuade that Roberto kid to take Jubilee some place fancier."

Next time? Morph felt their stomach somersault.

"Well, if you insist on taking me somewhere fancier then we will have to get you a new shirt," they said, pointing to where a third button had now snapped free. They tried to hide the fact that they felt left like they were about to puke up their own gloop.

"Why? You not likin' the view?" Logan said through a smug smirk.

"I like not getting kicked of restaurants more."

"So you do like it," Logan stated, that smirk turning predatory.

Wait, was Logan actually flirting with them? No, of course not. That could not be happening. This was just their usual banter. Right? Morph must have gotten so caught up in how the pair looked that their brain must have tricked itself into believing that Logan was flirting with them. Yes, that's what must have happened.

Of course that was when Jubilee decided to interrupt.

"I thought I told you to wear something decent!" She cried, grabbing Logan's leather jacket from where it was draped over the back of his chair and throwing it over the exposed expanse of his chest.

"I wore a shirt didn't I?" Logan protested, shrugging the jacket on properly. "Besides, Morph said they liked it."

Jubilee turned her accusatory glare towards them.

"Okay first of all, I never said that. Also I was the one who told Logan that shredding his only shirt wouldn't get him out if wearing one in the future so this-" Morph waved their hands in Logan's general direction. "Is not my fault."

Jubilee stared up at the ceiling but she was unable to stay annoyed for too long as Roberto placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and when her gaze once again found his and a smile once again graced her face.

"Whatever. Me and Roberto were going to go to arcade if you two insist on stalking us."

Morph glanced towards Logan and was surprised too see him shaking his head.

"Nah, you kids go ahead. We got our own plans."

Jubilee looked between them, a suspicious smile on her face that had Morph's stomach churning. But for once she chose to keep her mouth shut simply waving them both goodbye.

"You kids have fun!" Morph called after them.

"But not too much fun." Logan grinned making Roberto's brown skin pale as the teens headed for the door.

Despite their teasing, Morph truly was happy for Jubilee. Robert was a good kid. They were good for each other. Roberto helped to keep her grounded whilst she showed him the light around them.

Morph watched as Roberto reached out his hand and Jubilee didn't hesitate to take it in her own. Morph knew that it wasn't easy for the pair of them easier. As an Afro-Brazilian and Asian-American couple, they too drew their own fair share of less than happy looks. But the two teens ignored the stares, only having eyes for each other.

"Not that I'm complaining about getting out of babysitting duty," Morph said getting up from the table. "But I wasn't aware that we had any plans."

"We're going bowlin'." Logan stated, getting up himself, when he suddenly refused to meet their eyes. "If you want. 'Cus we still haven't been since- I mean we ain't been in a while."

Morph chose to believe that Logan's uncharacteristic fluster was because he had reminded them of how they still hadn't gotten the chance to go bowling together since they'd been freed of Sinister's control, and not the fact that he'd accidently made it sound like he was asking them out on a date.

"I'd love too." Morph quickly covered up the sincerity with a joke. "As long as you promise not to act all stabby when I beat you."

Logan snorted.

"As long as you promise not to act all bratty when I win."

"No promises."

As the two of them left, Morph couldn't help but glance down at Logan's hand as it swayed between them. They hoped that one day, they would have the courage to take his hand too.

[transdimensional-void]

why sansa will be queen in the north

the main thing that convinces me sansa will end the story ruling from winterfell (other than her show ending) is the way that possession of her has become equated with possession of winterfell. hence, the reason for the tyrells to attempt to marry her to their heir, the lannisters to force her into marriage with one of their own, and littlefinger to steal her for his own purposes.

it doesn't make sense for anyone other than a stark to control winterfell at the end of the story, and as demonstrated by tywin's plotting, sansa's children can be used by her husband's family to attempt to take control of winterfell. so, ending the story with sansa married into another family just sets up the threat of that family trying to use her or her children to steal winterfell in the future. there would be no resolution of an issue which has been a huge part of her storyline so far.

but, more than the "controlling sansa means controlling winterfell" angle, there is the "controlling winterfell means controlling sansa" angle. sansa's entire story begins with her father, lord of winterfell, essentially trading her to robert in exchange for the king's trust. because of the patriarchal nature of this society, the horrible truth is that whoever is head of the stark family essentially owns the rights to sansa's body and its reproductive abilities.

ned transferred those rights to robert, and upon his and ned's death, the lannisters seized control of them. the tyrells attempted to steal control of sansa, and littlefinger successfully did. once sansa is back in the north and her family in control of winterfell again, the right to determine sansa's future will also return to the head of the stark family.

that means that if anyone other than sansa--jon, bran, rickon, even her sister--ends up ruling winterfell, sansa will never gain control over her own body and future. she will have spent the entire story as someone else's pawn, a vessel for others' goals, only to end the same way. of course we would trust her family members to have her best interest at heart...just like her father did at the beginning of the story, right?

even if they promised to allow her to remain single if she wished, there's no guarantee they wouldn't change their mind and ask her to marry for the good of the family at some point. the head of the family would retain that right, no matter what they promised, meaning sansa is not the one in control of her future. similarly, even if they promised her to right to choose her own husband, it would simply be a transfer of ownership, exactly as we saw occur between ned and robert at the beginning of the story. if her husband pre-deceased her, control of her future would either pass to her son (as we saw with catelyn and robb) or back to the head of the family.

no, sansa simply will not end the story as a political pawn of a family member, nor will she end the story as someone's consort. the only possible way that sansa will be free to control her own marriage and reproductive choices is to become the head of the stark family. furthermore, if she is only lady of winterfell, a vassal to the king in the south, she still does not retain that control. her liege could still force her into a marriage she does not want, not unlike how robert used his power as king to pressure ned into accepting the betrothal between sansa and joffrey.

in other words, the only ending where sansa is freed from the possibility of being used as a pawn for political marriage yet again is the ending where she is queen in her own right.

(nb - for those about to question why i don't make the same argument about äryä needing to become a ruler to gain control over her body and future is that political marriage has played a negligible role in her storyline. the two times someone has tried to marry her off, it has had exactly zero effect on her personally. the frey betrothal ends without her ever even knowing it existed, and the fake marriage to ramsey will also likely end with ramsey's death before she even shows back up in the north. besides, she's got nymeria foreshadowing, aka, foreshadowing of leading a group of people off to new lands. she is also foreshadowed to end as a ruler of sorts. it's no more likely that she will end up under a family member's control than that sansa will.)

[utilitycaster]

In the end, it is misogyny but in the form of that Imogen (and most of the female cast, if we are being fair) gets reduced to just being a woman to the point that criticizing any real flaw, wrong doing, or "hey i personally maybe perhaps don't like that she did this" is turned into an attack on her because she is a woman, because after all, all women are perfect and so so dainty they must be protected (sarcasm)

Without mentioning the attacking real women in the name of the fictional one

It really is the "God forbid a woman do anything" but in it's worst form

Sorry for venting, been having thoughts about the fandom for the past 5 years

YUP. I do recommend Unlikeable Female Characters by Anna Bogutskaya which I devoured in like, one sitting over my winter break and posted a bunch of excerpts from but this discourse is extremely not limited to the CR fandom. I mean, think about all of the endlessly churning nonsense about the women of Gone Girl and Midsommar. I am going to see Love Lies Bleeding tomorrow and have steered well clear of really any discussion because I simply would like to see buff lesbians in a crime drama but apparently the discourse is rancid.

Of course there are people who assume ill of female characters while excusing men. That is absolutely a big problem. But again, we can barely talk about that. I recently made a post about how Laura is not a particularly chaotic player, and indeed is one of the most cautious players in actual play, and again I think there is a serious and important conversation to be had about how there's probably a reason why, say, Travis and Taliesin are more likely to make extremely bold moves, because they didn't get raked over the coals during C1 for stealing a cool broom from a guest character! I actually think Marisha has managed to hang on to some of her boldness and it makes her a stronger player but I would not have been surprised if she retreated after the hate she got from Keyleth. But yeah, in actual play, bold moves are pretty important. We can't even talk about how real-world misogyny holds back the actual actors without some moronic wretch being like "FIGURES THAT A MISOGYNIST CUNT LIKE YOU LIKES A MALE ACTOR."

When a character who is a man - or in some cases, characters who are not men but are played by men - does something people don't like we can say "wow, I didn't like this, but it was an interesting choice by the actor!" but we aren't allowed to either talk about the reasons why a real world woman might hesitate to play a character who does ugly things - because of the misogynistic backlash that will land specifically on her as a real person - nor can we compliment her for going for it and playing a complex flawed character, because how DARE you say a woman is anything less than some kind of Divine Feminine ideal. At best you're allowed a two-dimensional caricature of She's So Sweet And Good But Sometimes Gets Angry (this also happened to my friend Keyleth).

And this might reveal my own biases but like. I as a woman don't love being called self-centered, but that, personally, would probably lead me to some reflection. If you call me a girlfailure, even jokingly, I am going to break your nose. It's really telling that like...one of the absolute no-brainer "hey stop calling grown women girls" feminist tenets has gone by the wayside particularly with the set of people who think that meta that fails to put women on so high a pedestal they are untouchable is misogynist. They are awful towards women, fictional and real.

A line that always stuck with me from, bizarrely, a book about wordplay, was that Victorian men would treat women of their same classes as their superiors, but never their equals - they would coddle them and protect them but they wouldn't actually engage with their thoughts and foibles. (This happened to my friend Jester).

Anyway my personal solution is to keep going. On some level, as my previous post indicates, while I don't want the harassment it also only underscores my point, that a lot of these people are way more invested in being a dick to women on the internet than writing meta about the pretend women they think they like. I have to imagine they're doing this because either think they're entitled to meta they like from people who can actually fucking write it because god knows most of the people making this complaint have the most "if you can't dazzle them with brillance, blind them with the most purple-prose bullshit you can muster" attitude; or because they literally are just champing at the bit to attack women online with the ostensible veneer of "but it's FEMINIST to call THESE women cunts because they said my blorbo wasn't saintly and flawless." However, again, I know that I'm pretty bullheaded and forcibly unlearned the uh, patriarchal idea that women should not be confrontational. I do not blame people who look at this whole situation and say "I'm going to keep my thoughts to myself because this is so unpleasant."

[kirain]

Hi! I love your metas and I had a question if you don't mind. I love Barcus but I'm a bit confused by the Ironhand gnomes and why they were so mad at the Gondians? Did I maybe miss something?

Omg, I'm so glad someone asked me this! Thank you, anon. I broached this exact subject with my friend a few days ago, and I'd already considered writing a post about it, so this was the kick I needed! Barcus is hands down my favourite NPC (perhaps of all time) and the gnome plight is easily my favourite side quest in the entire game, so I'm excited to share what I've learned!

To preface, I'd like to mention that most gnomes, according to D&D lore, live in clans and keep to themselves. This is especially true for deep gnomes, as the Underdark is an exceedingly dangerous homeland. Their people are often enslaved by drow or duergar, or eaten by other nefarious creatures that lurk in the shadows. As such, they have become a profoundly somber and cynical race, relying only on each other for survival. They're also extremely wary of strangers, as Barcus perfectly demonstrates when we first meet him.

Now, a history lesson. The Ironhand Gnomes, who at some point left the Underdark, worked in Baldur's Gate for generations, providing the city with the best mechanomagical inventions the populace had ever seen. Though they still kept to themselves and worked in isolation, they were well respected by the citizens, and flourished enough to inspire other gnomes to seek a new life in the city as well. This may not have been their goal, but whether they meant to or not, they brought gnomish innovation to the forefront of one of the most multicultural cities in all of Faerûn.

More importantly, the Ironhand Gnomes worshipped a lesser deity called Gaerdal Ironhand, who Wulbren's ancestor, Wolverforce Bongle, allegedly conversed with. Massive however, in all of my research, I haven't been able to find any evidence that he was truly capable of such a feat, nor is he ever referred to as a "Chosen" by either himself or anyone from his clan. Therefore, it's possible this is nothing more than an unsubstantiated claim made by zealots. A book called Ironhand Gnomes: Our Grievances can be found in the gnome hideout in Act 3, verifying some of this information, but it's glaringly biased against the Gondians, with radically religious and violent undertones.

But where did this hatred come from? Well, according to the book, the Ironhand Gnomes shared some of their expertise with other clans, and some of those clans took what they learned and opened their own workshops. The Gondians, who worship Gond, did particularly well, constructing their own factories and becoming quick competition. They even built a Gondian Church in the city, and attributed their success to Gond; god of craft, smithing, and inventiveness. For whatever reason, the Ironhands didn't appreciate this and accused the Gondians of stealing their methods and designs, as well as pointing out flaws in their "shoddy" craftsmanship.

However, Gondian work was relatively flawless, as well as artifice-based, meaning it relied on science and raw materials. The Ironhands specialised in mechanomagical inventions, meaning they imbued their engines with arcane influence. This put the Gondians and Ironhands at odds with each other, as Gond espoused artifice supremacy, whereas Gaerdal Ironhand, according to Wolverforce, accused Gond of being a thief. So yes, we've reached the crux of the issue—religious turmoil. Both gods, I should mention, are good-aligned and easily misinterpreted, so of course that adds another layer of complications.

In response to the Ironhand's accusations, the Gondians started slandering the Ironhand clan, losing them favour in the city. In other words, the feud quite literally became a he said/she said situation, with both clans acting like petty children. Whether or not the Ironhand Gnomes taught the Gondians a few tricks, they weren't owed credit for their inventions. That would be like my friend showing me how to use Adobe Animate, then demanding credit for all of my artwork thereafter ... and all while criticising it. And the Gondians, though attempting to protect their reputation, had no right to spread lies about the Ironhand clan, not all of whom participated in the drama. They could've let their work speak for itself.

But this war of finger-pointing dragged on, with both sides losing and gaining support from confused Baldurians. Eventually, the Ironhands became desperate to get the upperhand, rousing Wolverforce to experiment with the thought-to-be mythical runepowder. This led to what became known as the "Unfortunate Runepowder Incident", wherein the overweening Wolverforce caused a massive explosion, killing himself and countless others in the blast. Wulbren blames this tragedy on the Gondians alone, and many Ironhands seem to feel it was the root of their exile, but there's more to it.

In reality, the Ironhand Gnomes were banished from Baldur's Gate because they aligned themselves with Sarevok Anchev, the Bhaalspawn who tried to destroy the city in the first game. For some reason, Wulbren completely glosses over this detail, likely because he can't bring himself to admit the Ironhands are responsible for their own downfall. In fact, he brushes it off, as if it's some insignificant happenstance that deserves forgiveness without merit. After all, it happened over a century ago. Then, in Act 3, he says a painfully backwards line about how he thinks the Gondians would've joined Sarevok, if given the chance. But they did have a chance, and they didn't join him. The Ironhands did. As far as I'm concerned, this highlights Wulbren's extensive denial.

Which brings me around to Barcus and why he's such an endearing character. He doesn't care about ancient feuds or gnome supremacy. He made a name for himself, despite his clan's reputation. The Gondians never saw him as an enemy, and he in turn saw the value in their work. He prefers diplomacy and open dialogue, and he abhors violence to the highest degree. With a little hard work, he proved that the Ironhand Gnomes could've redeemed themselves without resorting to such extreme and radical measures; which is why I will always argue for him to take leadership. He's the best. He's everything. He is the shining future of unity and creation.

[the-shiftshop]

Origins of the Shop: The Shop and its Founders

As part of the 2,000 Followers milestones, The Shift Shop presents, Origin of the Shop.

AI Image generated through DeepAI. This story is completely a work of fiction. Historical features may not be accurate.

DATA RETRIEVED FROM THE ARCHIVES OF THE SHIFT SHOP. REPORT NARRATED BY TIMOTHEO HYEONGJU LEE.

-

It was around 1910s, when the Japanese took control of Korea. The suppression against Koreans was bad. I witness my people get bruttaly treated by the foreignmen in our own land. My family, I lost my own immediate family in just a month after they took hold of our country. I decided to find a way to escape this hell. Boarded a trading ship from China, making sure no one can trace me. I managed to do so, landing me to a foreign country I have never known.

I managed to escape Korea and arrived in the Philippines through a ship. I couldn't speak their language, but I can do a few English or so. I couldn't make any more suspicion, so I decided to stay low, but in tough times, one shall do anything to survive.

One day, I was starving. I had no money, nor any means of getting any, so I learned to steal. A few days, I managed to get food without getting caught, but that didn't last long as an American soldier saw me stealing bread at a local shop. They chased me around town, and I tried to run for my life.

That is when I met Stephen Diaz, a soap store owner. He hid me in his shop until the soldiers eventually gave up in looking for me.

"You can stay here. I'll make sure you're part of a family from now on."

Diaz was 3 years older than I am. He treated me like a younger brother and kept me in like what he promised, like a part of a family. Diaz, too, is alone. His family died under the Spanish Regime and making soap and selling them is his primary way to survive. Throughout those years of living in his shop, we became business partners. Eventually, we don't just sell soaps anymore. I thought him how to make herbal tea. We bought ceramics from chinese merchants we can use to brew them. We started selling tea leaves and herbs.

Although, business wasn't that great. Our sales didn't go well and eventually we get our feet deep in debt. We thought of everything we can do, but we had to close the shop.

It was devastating to see Diaz, my best friend and brother, working harder in other ways just to support us both, while I couldn't do anything. I can't find a job or people will suspect me for being here illegally. All I can do for Diaz is make him tea every night.

One night, I was harvesting herbs from our backyard. I saw a gleaming light a few bushes away from I am. Upon exploring, there I saw a floating white crystal. I felt it calling onto me. I hear it promising me things that can help us get back to our feet.

"I promise you a way to be more prosperous. A power to help those in need, and also to help you."

I was blinded by it, but I know how truthful its words are, I just don't know why. I came closer, and then I held it in my palm, and then that was the day I was bestown the power I hold now. Power coursed through my veins. Hunger and pain disappeared. I was stonger, less stress. I just know I felt better.

I took the crystal inside and kept it where we usually put our income every single day. The next day, I decided to open the shop once more, giving it one last chance.

Diaz and I were surprised with what's going on. Soaps advertised to bring your youthful skin back, started to actually turn people younger the longer they use it. Teas that promises strength started to make people bigger, healthier. We are in awe.

People started coming in, amazed with our miracle. Everyone were celebrating, except for one person, Diaz.

Diaz was skeptical with the promise of the crystal. He said there's a big possibility that the crystal was offered by an Engkanto, or a Mambabarang, who purposely didn't say that there's a catch with this power. That night, we argued. He begged me to throw the crystal away, but I can't just do that. All I want was to help Diaz, or maybe I was too greedy with the power I now have.

Diaz and I pulled against the cystal on each end, accidentally splitting it in half. I felt my power lessen, and saw the other half Diaz was holding turn black.

Right that moment, we noticed light coming out from the shop and saw people with torches and pitchforks, screaming at us, calling us witches and monsters. People started to abuse our store products and saw what can happen when they overuse it, and they blamed us for what happened to those people.

They started storming in the shop. Diaz was caught by the people.

"THEO!" He screamed as he reach his hand to me, "Help me!"

But before I know it, the crystal in my hand generated a big wave of force, pushing everyone outside, incluing Diaz, and with my last scream, everyone disappeared.

It was quiet. What used to be night sky, now sunlight peaks throught the window. I can hear chirping of the birds oustide. That is when I realized, the whole shop was transported to a different place.

I was alone. Whatever happened to Diaz, I have no clue. All I have was his shop, and the crystal.

From then point on, I built the shop on my own, using the powers bestown to me, fulfilling what duties the crystal gave me, helping others and myself.

Diaz, if only I were able to save you. My deepest regrets and apologies. I'll find you soon.

[chaosfairy18]

perchance some binch (buttons + finch) drabble??? they're my sillies and i love them so dearly /nfta

@finchesslingshott

First of all Hello!

I do have to say I don't really do much livesies/stage musical stuff (sorry) nor have I ever really done much thinking on Finch or Buttons even as individual characters nor as a ship (I prefer Redfinch) but since you've been so kind to send me an ask I tried my best. I really only have Hotshot as a recurring character in my writing and even then she is very different from canon Hotshot.

Buttons is Tadhg McCarthy (his canon name in UKsies) and he got the name because he 'has his buttons' (being smart) but I still made him sew. (Thanks to Nox for the UKsies infos <3)

Finch isn't even here that much but I write him mostly like my dear friend @clevereverest makes me think of him, I love her Redfinch writing

Mostly this is actually Buttons character study a bit and his friendship with another pickpocket who sews: Swifty. Because I am 99% 92sies focused and I needed to at least have one character I already know how to write.

Now enjoy: (750 words)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Buttons wasn’t sure what to do with Finch always having some rip in his clothes. Naturally he’d help him, but he wouldn’t be happy about it. For most people he’d ask for a fee for patching their things up – if they didn’t want that they could go to someone else – but with Finch he regrettably couldn’t do that as they were close.

Didn’t mean he had to be happy about not getting a bit more money.

Admittedly he had gotten more than enough today by relieving some people of their change.

In the bunkroom – where his sewing kit was – there was only one other newsie, Swifty, apparently doing the same thing. They got along well – thief’s codex and all that – so he sat on the bunk across from him to do his own stitching. “Hey Swifts.”

“Buttons.” Swifty grinned his usual lopsided grin. “Finch again?”

Buttons groaned, looking at the ceiling. “Idiot tears his thin’s every day. Shirts, pants, hat. Last week t’was his socks.” Of course he knew partly how it happened, Finch climbed up some tree and the branches nicked his clothes, he fell down and scraped his knees, he got in fights and teared something else.

“You’d earn a fortune if ya actually took his money.” As much as his tone was teasing, Buttons had a feeling Swifty was thinking something more than what should be going on.

“Can’t rob ‘im blind like that.”, he just said dismissively, getting out his scissors and thread.

“Mhm.”

“What’re you doin’ anyways? One of the littles ripped somethin’?” The kids always tumbled around and Swifty was close to both Flipper and Tumbler – mostly through them being close to Skittery and Bumlets, who were his best friends – and he’d also do a lot for Boots or Snipeshooter, not to mention Splasher. Though Splasher would have come to Buttons for sure.

Swifty held the shirt he was doing something on closer to Buttons, showing a little cat on the hem of it, embroidered in black. “I’m puttin’ little cats on all of Skittery’s clothes to see when he notices. I’m runnin’ out of clothes actually.”

“Bold of you to assume he’s lookin’ at his clothes when he puts them on.”

“It’s still fun. Tumbler loves it, says Skitts is like a cat anyways.”

They talked a bit more, also about what they had stolen the last few days, laughing about some of the close escapes they’d had or reactions they got after stealing various things. Swifty even managed to get a whole dollar, not even wanting to show it, already having it stocked away somewhere. Not that Buttons would have stolen it from him… probably. It would have gotten him such good clothes and sewing equipment though.

It was tempting, but thief’s honour kept him from actually doing it.

A bit later Finch came in, just as Buttons was almost finished, looking eager to get his vest back. “You done yet?”

“Almost.”, he just said dismissively, Swifty snickering from his bunk.

“Let the man work. With how much you’re givin’ him one could think you’re doin’ it on purpose.” Before Finch could reply to that, Swifty had jumped up, shoved the newly embroidered shirt in Skittery’s drawer and quietly disappeared down the stairs, steps light as always.

Finch’s eyes widened a bit, and he looked apologetic. “I promise I ain’t doin’ it on purpose, Tadhg. Just happens.”

“Yeah yeah. You’re just a clumsy bird.” Jumping up, cutting off the last thread, he held out the vest, newly patched, almost looking like new. Or at least the same as before. “There you go. Don’t go and rip it open again, if you keep givin’ me that much business I will have you pay for it. Runnin’ out of thread with all this.”

“I’m sure you won’t lose your buttons though.”, Finch laughed, referring to how Buttons got his nickname, from having all his wits with him. Having his buttons in order, so to speak. It was one of the better nicknames anyhow, as it also fit with sewing.

Finch slipped into the vest and grinned, leaning forward and kissing Buttons’ cheek. “Thanks again, really. I’ll get you some thread or cloth or somethin’. Promise.”

He rolled his eyes. “Sure. Just don’t keep making people suspicious with all this. They’s bound to notice I treat you special.”

“Not that they’re wrong.”

“Finch.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He pecked his lips. “See you later.”

Buttons got to sew up two more of his clothes just this week.

[amymbona]

hey! :-) just wanted to say that I love your work <3

Also, I was wondering if you listen to Ariana Grand for at least her newest album cause “I wish I hated you” gives me failedmarriage!au with Patrick & I would love to see you bring that to life

no worries if you choose not to <3 love your work!!!

Hiii you're so so so kind I'm sending you lots of kisses! :33333 🫶🫶🫶🫶

I don't really listen to Ariana but took a look at the lyrics and get exactly what you mean! Failed marriage is one of the best angsty tropes that there is and I always eat that up. All the years spent together that crumbled into smithereens, and suddenly the bed next to you is empty.

Life without Patrick is so empty to you. Despite having to move on and continue going to work every day, as if nothing as happened, your days feel infinitely more boring, more meaningless. There's nobody waiting for you with a cup of warm tea and there is nobody you could wake and make dinner for. Nobody's watching the sports channel on TV and you don't have to race to the bathroom each morning because there is one who would spend half an hour applying the right amount of gel into their hair.

Nobody steals your blankets and hugs you when you're cold anymore. You haven't felt the touch of another person in weeks, aside from your overly friendly coworker who's always eager for a high five. Nobody has stroked your hair nor kissed you when you cried, clutching onto the last bits of your husband... Ex husband.

The sheets don't smell like him anymore, there's not a single clothing article of his in your wardrobe, aside from two pairs of sneakers that are too small his feet anyway, so he never asked you to send them his way. His coffee cup is gone too, the one you got him at a charity shop, with a little best husband written on the front side.

He generously allowed you to stay in the apartment, insisting he's rich enough to buy two more houses and saying he travels a lot anyway so it would be pointless if he kept the home you shared, only collected his personal belongings and left. All traces of him are gone, aside the two pairs of shoes, the printed pictures of you two that you had to hide into the depths of your closet (for your own sanity), a few pieces of jewellery and the other precious gifts, and, of course, the wedding ring now hidden in the drawer or your bedside table.

It would be stupid to claim you're over Patrick, because it's obvious you aren't. Your friends see it, your family sees it. They know you're fucking miserable, unable to function without that man by your side. And does anyone actually blame you? You two had been together for so many years, you were not only each other's partners but also best friends, supporters, lovers... You used to be each other's everything.

And what hurts the most is the absurd reason of your break up, the mutual understanding that you simply can't fulfilling whatever there was expected from this marriage. The mutual agreement of deciding to split ways because Patrick's career is at its peak and he doesn't have as much as time for you as he used to. Not that it ever made him love you less. Quite the contrary, he learned to savour each and every moment spent with you, each time he got to hold you in his arm and smell the vanilla shampoo from your hair.

But he knew that you were hurting, that you couldn't just take a month long break from your work and travel the world with him (even though he offered to provide for the both of you, confidently trying to convince you that he'd love nothing more than for you to be his stay at home life and just look pretty and cook for him). He knew you were missing him deeply, that you were - even when you claimed not to - jealous he'd find a prettier, wealthier and sexier woman and fall for her. Because he had the reputation of a ladies' men, and you knew what he was once like during high school. But despite all of that, he always remained loyal.

Patrick always wanted the best for you, even though you couldn't quite see it, and that is why he had to break up with you. Perhaps it was selfish, but he couldn't bear to see you like that. It broke his heart to hear you cry to him on the phone about how much you missed him, how much you wished he was next to you. And he could never give you all of that. He knew you should find somebody who could give you everything you need. Someone who wasn't him.

[morgana-ren]

I'm sorry if something similar has been asked before. But, I imagine that some of Tav's close friends are concerned about her being a Dark Consort. She's not returning letters as frequently and is intentionally vague on any plans for a reunion. How would Ascendent Astarion react if one of their former comrades showed up at their palace attempting to see Tav? And if that person might have been a former flame of Tav's before she chose Astarion over them?

They aren't seeing Tav. I can tell you that right now.

Astarion is going to know they're coming before they've even decided to do it, and he's going to ensure that nothing intervenes with his plans.

Astarion has quite literally stated that he has zero qualms with turning on their old comrades if they get in his way. He makes a joke about preemptively killing Wyll because he's the most likely to be a problem for them going forward, and he absolutely means it.

If it was just an old comrade that used to be friends with them both, Astarion would probably receive them politely-- albeit there is no Tav in sight when he does-- and soothe over their anxiety as best as he can.

She's fine, she's fine! She's just busy, is all! A little indisposed at the moment. Resting. He wore her out... If you catch his meaning.

(Yes, I imagine he is inappropriate about it deliberately to keep them from asking questions and to assert just what kind of relationship they have to hopefully discourage further meddling.)

He'd prefer not to kill them if he can help it. Not because he cares, but because it would make his darling awful sore on him for a while, and it's such a miserable pain when she's angry. He's going to use his silver tongue to convince them that she's fine, but that their aspirations and plans keep them so busy so really, it's a terrible inconvenience to just have guests out of the blue, so it's best they be on their way. Ta!

For a former flame, he's really going to double down on the 'relationship' bit, and he's going to be blatantly... disrespectful, to put it nicely. No one is going to steal Tav from him, and if that's why they came here, they will not be leaving. At least not in one piece.

They lost. Astarion won. She belongs to him now, and they need to make peace with that. She's happy with him. It's not his fault they're a sore loser, and really, it's quite pathetic that they're coming up with excuses like this to try and see her. She doesn't want to see them. She's happy with Astarion. Don't you get it? She couldn't even be bothered to be here to greet them! (Of course she knew they were coming... what do you mean 'did she even know?')

She's his queen, and he has no intentions of ever changing that.

It's time they moved on from their pathetic little crush.

Astarion understands it's so hard to lose, but this is just a pathetic display of desperation. Making up some bollocks reason to check in on her in an attempt to see her. It's sad, truly. Tav has moved on, and it's time they did too.

He sends them on their way without ever catching hide nor tail of Tav, with nothing but his word...

And if they keep harassing Tav, then he takes matters into his own hands, one way or another.

Tav herself has absolutely no idea that anyone even came to visit, and Astarion would see it kept that way, staff held under pain of death to keep their fucking mouths shut. There will be hell to pay if she ever gleans someone dropped by.

[hyrule-in-a-pokeball]

THE RE-WRITTEN TIMELINE

!!!WARNING!!!

Spoilers for Tears of the Kingdom ahead. Shut your eyes and scroll for a sec if you don't want to see.

No seriously I'm going all in.

Alright now that those nerds are gone, lets talk about how my suspicions that all past games are no longer canon turned out to be 100% correct. Also grab some coco, we're gonna be here for a minute.

At the beginning of Tears of the Kingdom, Link and Zelda are separated, with Zelda being transported into the distant past thanks to her latent time magic going nuts when exposed to a sage stone (NOTE:

Sage stones greatly amplify the holder's powers and while Zelda possessed both light AND time magic due to her ancestry, it seems her time magic was stronger and so was what the stone amplified)

Zelda finds herself in the era of Hyrule's founding and meets the first king and queen of Hyrule, her ancestors, King Rauru (A Zonai possessing light magic) and Queen Sonia (A Hylian possessing time magic). Both are not only the King and Queen, but are the sage of light and time respectively. It is made very clear that these two are the first king and queen of Hyrule. None came before them. All came after them.

Now, I hear you saying "This doesn't make all the old games non-canon!" Yeahyeah, shush, keep reading. The adversary the first king and queen face in Hyrule's first era is none other than Ganondorf, the demon king of the Gerudo tribe

Before, Ganondorf first appeared in OoT's era (which was not, nor was it ever stated to be Hyrule's founding era), but now here he is, right at the beginning of it all with the first king and queen. In fact we even get a sort of recreation/Overwrite of a certain OoT scene

A moment in both games in which Ganondorf is swearing fealty to the King of Hyrule. Of course, in OoT, Rauru isn't the current king, but an ancient sage dwelling in the light temple And also a Hylian. And also an Owl... This has been re-written, he';s a Zonai and the first king now, and also not an Owl.

Ganondorf ultimately betrays the king, echoing his actions in OoT, but in this timeline, there's no little princess Zelda, there's no Sheikah, there's no little forest boy. Nobody to meddle in Ganondorf's plans. He murders Queen Sonia and steals her stone, taking it for himself and amplifying his powers to insane degrees, and truly becoming The Demon King.

Rauru rallies the leaders of the regions of Hyrule, A Gerudo woman, A Zora woman, a Goron, and a Rito man, as well as his older Sister Mineru. Aside from Mineru, all the others remain nameless, but all wear helmets/masks that are reminiscent of the divine beasts that would be created thousands of years in their own futures and be named after them.

Thats right. I strongly believe these four to be Nabooru, Ruto, Darunia, and I guess "Medo"(?). Rauru gives them all sacred stones, naming them sages. Nabooru becoming the sage of lightning, "Medo" becoming the sage of wind, Ruto the sage of water, and Darunia the sage of fire. Mineru is already the sage of Spirit, Zelda, having a sacred stone, is named the sage of time, and Rauru, also possessing one, is the sage of light.

Together, with their own powers jacked up, they confront the demon king and his army of monsters. And lose. In a last act of desperation, King Rauru; the sage of light, uses his light powers, apparently fueled by his own life, to seal Ganondorf and drain away his magic.

Ganondorf knows this seal won't hold forever and taunts Rauru that this is ultimately a futile act, But Rauru, having knowledge of the future thanks to a time traveling Zelda, tells him that by that time, someone wielding a magic sword that destroys evil will appear to oppose him, and that person's name is JACK- I mean LINK. Ganondorf, fascinated by this prospect, says he looks forward to this, and then succumbs to Rauru's sealing magic. And there the two of them stay for thousands upon thousands of years.

This conflict between the seven sages and the Demon King Ganondorf became legend, and is known in present day Hyrule as... The Imprisoning war

Now according to all official Zelda media released before this point, the Imprisoning war happened before A Link to the Past/Twilight Princess/Wind Waker, and was the name for the events that took place in OoT. OoT and the events shown in Tears of The Kingdom cannot exist side-by-side. TotK overwrites the ancient legend that is OoT.

BUT WE'RE NOT DONE YET

OH NO

See. Ganondorf stays sealed there until present day. He doesn't break his seal and get into mischief. He doesn't kidnap girls on the high seas or puppet an idiot wannabe king. He stays sealed in that spot for thousands upon thousands of years. The event of 10,000 bbw (Before Breath of the Wild) take place while he's still sealed away. "Calamity ganon", while born of Ganondorf, is a different entity just sort of spawned from him. I have my suspicions now that Calamity Ganon is actually Ganondorf's magic that was drained away by Rauru, having coalesced and taken on a sort of conscious form. But then, how did the people of the ancient past know that "ganon" would return? How did they know they needed a hero with a magic sword? How did they know to build divine beasts to help fight this monstrously powerful foe?

Because Zelda, from present day, kept saying in the founding era "Yo this guy is gonna come back in the future and a dude named link with a cool sword is gonna fight him so be ready to throw down" She told this to each individual sage, and in turn, each sage made sure that when that time came, their people, the Gerudo, the Zora, the Rito, and the Gorons, would be there to help the hero. So for generations, they waited. They planned. And then one day, "Calamity ganon" appeared. It was defeated and sealed away by the princess of that era, a nameless hero, and big ol' mechs. And then it appeared again for the last time, because that time it was destroyed 100 years later. Then 5-8 years later Ganondorf woke up, Zelda went back in time and- Oh look a time loop

Suddenly the logo makes a lot of sense

BUT THAT REMAINS TO BE ALL, MY FRIENDS

The tapestry shown in Breath of the Wild depicting a nameless ancient hero wielding the master sword, standing against Calamity Ganon along with the guardians and divine beasts? Remember that?

We always thought he looked very odd. Very "not-Link" like. And thats because he didn't. Your reward for finishing all 152 shrines in Tears of the kingdom is an unusual single piece of armor called "Ancient Hero's Aspect"

These three pieces represent the Owl, the dragon, and the boar. In Zonai tradition, the Owl represented Wisdom, the Dragon; Courage, and the Boar; Power. This item's description reads as follows: "This item is said to contain the spirit of a hero who once saved Hyrule. That hero's aura will envelop the wearer" So what happens when you put this armor on?

Link takes on the form of that ancient hero. An individual who appears to be half Zonai (Full blood Zonai have much longer ears). Who has a snout, and long flowing red hair. And once, long ago, he wielded the master sword in opposition to Calamity Ganon.

Too long; didn't read? The events of Tears of the Kingdom directly and brutally contradict the entirety of the Legend of Zelda franchise and now only Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom should be considered canon

[barcaavengers]

Illicit Affairs || Neymar Jr. Imagine || Pt. 2

Tag List: @24-martie @swissbacon @softiegukk @cierixx @hannahzmllr @b-bradshaw @enthyn @effervsnt @tpwkangieee @chipstatoest @santhimariyanbu @champagne-priincess @taestrwbrry @katcoolcat @winterwidxw @loki-tom1 @mrs-da-silva05 @goeskths @mickschumacherswhore @itsmoes-world

Disclaimer: Gif not mine. All credits to owner! Found it on google.

Note: Part 2 is here! Don't know why but Tumblr wouldn't let me tag some people for some strange reason but tomorrow I'll try to reach them with the link. Tried to spice things up a bit but not giving everything away. I hope you all enjoy it! As always, let me know what you think and if you want to see anything specific happen!

Warnings: Not in this one.

Your hands were sweating, and you didn't seem to know how to cross your arms as you waited for Neymar to pick you up from work. You had moved to a different zone from the parking area so none of your coworkers would see who picked you up. You didn't need the nosiness nor the questions. 

Of course, the car the football player rented couldn't be a Corolla or at least a Mercedes. No. The man just had to get a Lamborghini with a shocking green color. 

"Couldn't go for something less subtle, just like in the game."

"Still criticizing my choices, like in the game" he says. He had rolled up in front of you with his window down. He was placing the car in parking but you were already opening the door. "Really?"

"Too slow" you tease as you get inside, you are reaching for the belt and twist to buckle it up, but he was already close to your face and kissed your cheek. 

"Hey." 

Whatever snarky remark you could've thought of next, it just flew out the window. "Hey" you say, and you are thankful it was dark or he would see the blush on your cheeks. Well that was unexpected. 

"Your place? Did you eat something? We can go eat something" he says as he starts to drive. 

He was being so nice..

"Uh, yeah, I guess. Thought we'd go somewhere else when you said you'd pick me up" and then you regret the way that sounded. "As in…I don't know" you shrug. 

"You are nervous, aren't you?" And with that he reaches to hold your hand. 

This felt so random yet so….right?

"It's not an everyday thing for me to get picked up by Neymar Junior, so excuse me" you tease and he chuckles.

"You got nothing to worry about, amor" he brings your hand up to his lips and kisses it. You could've sworn you just had your heart skip a beat. You didn't like this feeling. 

"I'm not worried" you lie. "Its just…I don't know" you shrug. 

"Still thinking about what happened yesterday?"

"In a way" you say and bite the inside of your cheek and he steals a glance from the road to look at you. "It's just…What is going on here?"

"What do you mean?"

"The kissing. You picking me up…" you pause. "You and Bruna, maybe?"

Not a single word came out of him for a few seconds, and you realized he was still holding your hand. 

"I-, I really don't know how to explain it, or where to begin."

"The beginning would be nice," he glares at you. You were already approaching your house so you gave him the directions of turn here, straight, then turn there and after you were in front of your house. 

"I didn't think I'd enjoy the kiss as much as I did. I've kissed girls before but something about you is different" he explains. "I don't know about you, but I liked it, a lot" he winks to not keep the conversation serious. This guy. 

"What about her, though?"

"She is busy with her own things" he hesitates for a second. "We don't share the same spotlight, she likes one thing, I like the other. I go just to make her happy even if I am miserable, but she can't do that for me unless, like I told you, it's something big" he explains. 

"I'm sure those are things that if you guys talked it out, like I said, it would work. Every relationship goes through rough patches, and they don't need to like the same things."

"Before she was okay with things, then all of a sudden she just stopped. I don't think I feel the same anymore either" he admits, and you could've sworn the only working cell in your head just started jumping of joy at his words. 

"If you feel that way, then maybe you should just…not be there" you internally wince at your own words. No. You were not saying it just to get some benefits out of it, although apparently you didn't seem to mind. Your head was spinning cause it was all happening so fast and you had no idea how to slow it down. So instead of looking at Neymar, you decide to unbuckle the belt which seemed more interesting. 

"I know…" he admits. "It's hard because it has been years, you know? Just hoping for the best that she would change and it just happens by seasons" he shrugs as he unbuckles his belt as well and shifts to face you, and you mirror his action. "Now you," he reaches to cup your face with one hand and you lean against his warm touch. "You have shown more interest in the time we have known each other than she has, ever." Yikes. 

"You are just leaning on me because of your struggle right now, Ney. You don't mean it. And I'm sure she loves you a lot and would love to work things out with you."

"Of course I do" and with that his lips press on yours and you are caught off guard once again. This time the kiss is different, he is pouring what he was feeling into it. Somehow a slow yet urgent kiss that you couldn't resist and you didn't want to either. 

Your hand goes to the side of his neck, reaching with your fingers behind it and finding yourself pulling him closer. His hand goes to your waist, holding it tightly as he kisses you. Those lips that you couldn't deny had you wanting more since yesterday and were finally yours again. Except that he wasn't yours and he was Bruna's at the moment. 

"Stop thinking about her" he mutters against your lips before intensifying the kiss, and you try to keep up. This was bad. You were finding yourself wanting him. All of him. "I don't want to go back to her."

"What?" You had to pull away, your hands resting on his shoulders as you eyed him. 

"I'll tell her it's over", he says. "I want to try it with you…" he pauses. "If you want to, obviously."

"Ney, I-" how can someone answer that? "I don't know what to say. I-" you hesitate and think of your next words. "I would love to, don't get me wrong. What I'm feeling for you…it has never happened to me with anyone else."

"And what are you feeling?" He has a cheeky grin taking over his lips. 

"I can't explain it" here goes nothing. "Yes you were my football crush, first ever" he grins like a kid who just got permission to go play at the playground. "But it isn't the same, you know? When we started playing it was not like I was in love or the crush was still there, and after yesterday things just…I didn't even like you that way" you say, laughing at your words and he does as well. "Somehow I didn't let it happen, because obviously you are with her and I would never interfere with that so maybe after these talks it just…happened" you shrug and he pulls your hand again to his lips and kisses your knuckles. 

"I can deal with that explanation," he says. "Y/N, I mean it when I say that I like you, alright? There is a true reason why I sent you the hearts, and compliments, and play with you every day. You are like my personal getaway from everything, and Bruna hasn't been that for me for a while."

Oh you knew better than to believe him. Isn't that what all guys say? My girlfriend doesn't do this and that, its terrible, please take me? That's what they say and some time later they are back at it again, all happy and in love. Yet Neymar sounded truthful, and you kind of believed him, but you didn't want to take it further until he proved his words. 

"If…you happen to break up with her then maybe yes, we could give it a try" you go back to his previous words. "That's my only condition, and this is me risking a lot and playing with fire because the only one that would get hurt badly if you change your mind is going to be me. So meanwhile, I won't let myself think any further" you hope you sound sure of your words. 

"Wrong, if I change my mind I would get burned too. I do want to be something with you, I mean every single word I have said." That if meant that there was still a chance. 

"So you'd go back to her?"

"I didn't say that, but anything can happen. I don't want to promise you something that not even I can be sure I'm done with."

"Mhm" there is an annoying sound. 

"We will both get burned, not just you. So just…relax and let's enjoy it" he moves closer. "If this is meant to be a temporary thing and it doesn't work then at least we won't stay wondering what could've happened…" and he pulls you close again so your lips meet. Almost as if he couldn't get enough of you, and you couldn't get enough of him either even when you knew better. 

It wasn't like his words were reassuring. You weren't one to risk yourself like this knowing it could end up badly for you, but what if it didn't?

Then the moment was interrupted by his phone ringing and he pulled away from the kiss. You pull yourself back to the seat, running a hand through your hair, and you don't know why but you feel more annoyed than you should. "It's her, isn't it?"

"Yeah" he says as he sets the phone aside. 

"Aren't you gonna get it?"

"Nah, I'll talk with her later."

"I still think you should talk with her to fix things first before you jump into something crazy" you say to him. 

"Been there, done that. She won't change" he says. 

"I broke up with her."

It was…2:27am. What the hell.

"What?" Your voice couldn't be groggier. 

"I broke up with Bruna" he is sniffing. "I-"

"I told you to think it through, Ney" you yawn. "Maybe you can still fix it."

"I'm not…like this because it's over", yep, he is crying. "I just thought she'd care a little more."

"What do you mean?" You sit up on your bed, putting the phone on speaker, you were too tired to just be holding it. 

"She just…waved it off. Asked if I was seeing someone else, asking why the sudden change but no feeling, you know? No asking how to fix it…I told you", he says and it breaks your heart to hear him with his voice breaking.

"I'm so sorry, Ney" you frown. "You don't deserve that."

"I guess it's over now…and that's fine…"

"At least now you know the feelings were not mutual. Or maybe she hasn't processed what happened yet."

"Yeah, because someone breaking up with you will have you processing so-" he pauses. "Well, she is writing to me now."

"Ney, please just talk things out" a hand runs over your face. There goes your sleep. 

"Y/N, I don't want to talk things out. I did enough and she won't change" he says. "I want to try something with you."

"Can we talk about this later? You are confused and you have a lot of feelings going on right now so…"

"I'll pick you up tomorrow for breakfast."

"What?"

"See you tomorrow" he blows a kiss into the phone and hangs up. 

What the hell just happened again?

"Ney, we barely know each other, I can't just go to his party."

"It will be fine. Besides, you have played with him before" here is Neymar trying to convince you to go to some streamer's birthday party. You have probably played with him like five times maybe?

"But he didn't invite me."

"You are my plus one, though" he grins and you sigh. This was your first appearance with Neymar after….after the sudden break up with Bruna. You two had talked to keep it cool, just friends because there were people here that knew his ex and the least you wanted was to be caught as Neymar's new girlfriend in a matter of a week. 

"Fine" his grin remains there and he leans in to kiss you, a passionate kiss before opening his door.

The party was fun. Neymar and you have been distant yet close from each other. He would casually get into the conversation you were in, arm around your waist for a few seconds before letting go. His hand would brush yours just enough as if he was holding it, his hazel eyes following you almost everywhere. You have made conversation with some of the guys so that was fun. It helped to keep yourself from following Neymar throughout the party like a lost puppy because you didn't know anyone. 

"Come on, let's dance."

"Spoiler alert, I can't" you voice. "And I could never keep up your pace" you tease. 

"Come on, I'll show you" he takes your hand and pulls you to the side, arms around your waist. "Just let me handle you, okay? For once?"

"Like if you could" you say playfully and he starts guiding your steps. His breath smelled of that peanut butter whiskey he started to like so much, and it was proven to you when he kissed you and the after taste was of just that. "Ney" you say in a warning tone. 

"Its fine, no one is looking at us." The party was taking place right besides the room you two were in, only a wall was hiding you two from the rest. "You look gorgeous today" he says into your ear. "The things I would do-"

"Hey, easy" you shush him. Yeah, you two suddenly jumped the other night into this kind of conversation. You don't remember how you got there. You just did and it seemed to have had a mark on him. Obviously in you too but he was the one voicing it. 

"Let's get out of here" his nose nudges your own, his eyes closed as he moves a tad backward and his back hits the wall, his arms still tightly secured around your frame holding you close to him. 

"I work tomorrow, silly" you say as your arms go around him. You might have had two or three Sangrias…and some other drink you forgot the name of. 

"Just another hour or so" he says and his eyes open to look at you. "Just us" and his hands start roaming down your waist. 

"I know you, and it won't be an hour."

"You just look so good, princess. I could take you right here…" a shiver runs down your spine at his words being whispered into your ear. You had to resist. 

"And you look very handsome, babe" you run a hand through his hair. It was true. His baggy pants and loose shirts along with his cap and jewelry. He really knew how to dress up. "But we have to go soon. I work early." 

He groans, "Okay" he kisses your lips, pulling you in before pulling away and licking your bottom lip before his teeth catch it, his hands groping your behind in sync. 

"Ney" he pulls you close and you could almost feel him through his jeans. 

"Yes?" He asks once he lets go of your lip. Then his phone goes off, a groan leaving his lips in annoyance before reaching for it and looking at you. 

"Her?" He stays silent. "Just answer it" you pull away from his embrace, stealing a glance at his phone and noticing she was video calling him. 

"I won't-"

"Just go outside and answer, I'll stay here" your heart was beating wildly against your chest in anger. Why was she still calling him? Was it soon for you to start getting jealous about it?

Once the party was over, he dropped you off at your house to then go to his. Your mood had completely changed and it was a mixture of confusion, jealousy and maybe even anger. Yet you weren't ready for Neymar's call. 

"You driving?" You ask curiously. 

"Yeah," he pauses and you are just waiting for him to finish. "She showed up at my house."

"I'm sorry?"

"She wanted to talk and we did. You have nothing to worry about. I just escorted her to her house."

"What?" Your head was spinning. 

"Its late, I can't just let her drive by herself." It was 2am! 

"Oh, she forgot her way around or something?" Yeah. You were getting mad. 

"I would've done the same for you."

"Except that I wouldn't be bothering you after we broke up" you snap. "Look, I work in a few hours so just….bye."

"Princess, list-" and you just press the red button and toss your phone to the side. 

First the random video call and now she shows up at his place. And he doesn't seem to be telling her to stop looking for him. What's next? Cause this was starting to get on your nerves…

[bg3fandomcritical-active]

I agree with those anons who pointed out that neither Wyll nor Shadowheart has any trademark that would allow their romances to be recognized as the only romance routes with sweet elements. "How dare you take one aspect of Wyll's character and project it on Astarion!!!" And the aspect in question is simply being nice and sweet to his partner. It's ridiculous. I know that some astarion haters or aa fans or wyll wives desperately want him to be his mask from Act 1 and nothing more or think that every single relationship with him has to be portrayed as bad and abusive because he's so so evil while your blorblos are so so better, but some of us that actually romanced him and invested some time in getting to know him and be with him consider his romance scenes to be sweet as well. And no, we don't have to take wyll's content or his scenes to think so. I find the hug from Act 2 to be absolutely sweet. I find the hand holding and him saying "this is nice" sweet. I find his confession about how much he didn't want to fall for my tav only to miserably fail to be sweet, I find him being afraid of everything and everyone according to Scleritas yet still finding it in himself to trust my Durge to be sweet, I find him being the only companion who cares after meeting Harleep to be sweet, I find his Act 3 scenes to be sweet, I find him showing Tav his grave to be sweet, I find him not knowing how to be in a relationship and saying he doesn't know what we are yet still trying to be with my character to be sweet, I find him pretending he doesn't care to be sweet, I find him saying "I'm all pointy ears my dear" to be sweet, I find him saying "my precious bhaal-babe" to be sweet, I find him getting visibly sad when my durge tries to break up with him for his own safety to be sweet, I find him being totally understanding towards my durge and saying "we ask before we bite" to be sweet, I find him saying he wants to spend his life with my character to be sweet. And I find the way he says "it's cute" when you put a flower on his grave to be sweet as well.

That's what I think and that's how I feel. But I guess I must be "stealing" from Wyll simply for having those feelings and finding Astarion's romance scenes to be sweet and nice, after all only Wyll can be nice to his own partner… Btw it's again only Astarion's fans that are being shamed for enjoying his romance. I've never seen people insulting Shadowheart, Karlach, Gale or even Lae'zel for saying they considered some scenes to be sweet and nice. Or for imagining dancing with their partner at some point in their life.

And now I'm going to commit the greatest sin of them all. You know how when you put a flower on his grave he is surprised but visibly pleased and how he says that "it's cute"? I think that since he clearly enjoyed it he may actually at some point reciprocate and give flowers to his partner too to make them happy. Yes, I really said it. I think that he may at some point in his life give his partner flowers. Now, send the death threats, the same way you harassed, bullied, insulted and sent death threats to this poor person on twt for simply imagining Astarion giving their tav flowers or being nice to his own kid which of course means they were "stealing from Wyll"… It's clearly a crime punishable by death in this fandom. BTW flowers are Shadowheart's thing, so if wyll's wives imagine their tav receiving flowers from him they're stealing from her.

And you know what else? I even think that at some point in his long life, Astarion may dance with his romantic partner too

.

[flowercrowngods]

more clarkson softs: in which wayne learns what coming home to scott means

🤍 also on ao3

Coming home has a new meaning on the days that Wayne doesn't drive to the trailer park after work but instead to the nicer part of town. Coming home has a new meaning when the door doesn't creak as he opens it with the spare key Scott gave him a few weeks ago. Coming home has a new meaning when he's greeted with a Beatles song, of all things.

He smiles almost involuntarily as he closes the door behind him, staying put for a moment to listen to Scott's melodic voice singing along to his favourite record. Because of course his favourite record would have to be by The Beatles. His ridiculous, ridiculous man.

Slowly, unwilling to disturb the moment, Wayne pulls off his shoes and jacket and walks into the house, following the music. And then there he is. The sleeves of his button-up shirt are rolled up to his elbows, neither sweater vest nor bowtie anywhere to be found, swaying to the music while tidying up the living room. Not that it really needs tidying up, but Wayne knows Scott has to be in constant motion on his good days. He's a bit like Eddie in that way.

It's endearing to watch, and Wayne leans against the doorframe that separates hallway from living room.

The upbeat song ends and Scott briefly stops moving along with it. It makes Wayne's cheeks hurt a bit from smiling.

He's always been more of a Rolling Stones kind of man, but this? He could get used to this. Make an exception, if you will.

The next song that plays is not as upbeat, but it starts with an air of vulnerability that hangs in the air until it is soaked up by Scott, who starts swaying again, chores forgotten as he just sways and sings.

If I fell in love with you,  Would you promise to be true And help me understand?

Oh. Wayne is torn between making himself known and just watching. But Scott makes that decision for him when he turns around and spots Wayne standing where he is, feeling awkward for a whole second before Scott smiles around the lyrics.

He approaches slowly, still swaying in tune and singing perfectly, and Wayne is frozen. Because this doesn't happen to people like him. This doesn't happen when you're fifty. And it sure as hell doesn't happen to The Beatles.

But here Scott is, making his heart jump, his breath hitch, and his mind mesmerised. Wayne wants to fight it for two seconds before Scott has reached him, taking his hand and pulling him along further into the living room that is soaked with reddish-golden light of the afternoon sun. Everything around Scott is always soaked in light.

Poets would love him. But they don't get to, not while Wayne is here to do that for them.

And then they sway together – it's not quite a dance, except it could be if the poets were here.

"If I trust in you," Scott continues, his voice quieter now, as if only meant for Wayne's ears. "Oh, please, don’t run and hide."

For the first time in his life does Wayne find himself wishing he knew the lyrics to a Beatles song. Just so he could reciprocate, just so he could know what was going to come next and pluck the words from the air as if they were his own.

But he doesn't, so all he does is letting himself be lead through the living room by Scott.

"So I hope you see that I would love to love you," Scott continues, placing a finger under his chin to make Wayne look up and meet his eyes. Those eyes that keep stealing what's left of his breath, his sanity, his heart. He steals it and Wayne lets him.

"Hello," Scott breathes even though the song isn't quite over yet. "It's very good to see you."

"You too," Wayne returns. "Even though I've always been more of a Stones man."

"I'll make sure to greet you properly next time, then." And when Scott leans down to seal the promise with a kiss, Wayne thinks that coming home might just be his new favourite thing.

the song: If I Fell - The Beatles

[anmiruzu]

yandere headcanons w/ senjuro rengoku

a/n i have never seen anyone do this before so I'm doing it (bare w/ me pls, I have never written headcannons before nor have I ever written for senjuro despite him being a favorite of mine)

senjurou is definitely more of an obsessive yandere than possessive

he would admire you from afar, put your safety above everything meaning blackmailing people who hurt you, take pictures of you, and break into your house to steal your clothes

he of course basically worships you and any item that you have previously owned referring to your stolen articles of clothing that are now in his room

he keeps your clothing and uses them as pillow cases, the fact that they smell like you brings him a strong sense of comfort

he probably is a little delusional

just a little maybe a lot but he would be under the impression that you two are meant for each other and that you just don't know it yet

he would never approach you instead waiting for you to approach him despite you never even looking his way

he's too shy and timid to even attempt approaching you and would stutter and blush a lot if he were to ever speak to you

although strangely enough he is sort of possessive

he easily gets jealous of whoever talks to you but would try to restrain himself from doing anything too reckless (he doesn't want you to be sad after all)

he does his best to reassure himself that it's nothing and that you two will be together soon

eventually he cracks from the envy and just kidnaps you still somehow under the impression that you two are just meant to be and are "soulmates"

{kimetsu no yaiba masterlist here}