#do they have a ship name I don’t think they do

[vivendraws]

making an important announcement about some things i’ve noticed in the gwendoline christie fandom that really bug me.

disclaimer: read this at your own convenience and discretion. i am not responsible for any sort of hurt feelings and frankly… i don’t care. if you’re mad about this, you are probably the problem. /lh

to start with id like to begin on a positive note so that i’m not diving into negativity, i don’t want to be completely negative about my experiences because i’ve actually met some of the kindest people in the world through this fan base.

the gwen fandom, the gwandom, the gwendoline christie fandom , the lesbian cesspool, has been an incredible experience that i’m grateful i’ve had the pleasure of being apart of.

i went through a rough patch during november, and if i hadn’t found out about gwen, or met such wonderful people during my time here , i honestly wouldn’t be here right now. i owe my life to these people, gwen included. i will forever adore miss christie and what she stands for alongside the friends i’ve made along the way.

and while i know someday this hyperfix will end, it’s really disheartening to me when a fandom is what makes me grow distant from things i enjoy. it happened before, i feel as though it is happening all over again.

and no, i’m not taking issue with anything like the catrissa stuff or the brienne and larissa ship going around or anything like that. i like that we can all be weird together and enjoy aus like catrissa and crackships like bririssa (not sure the official name that was decided lol). my issue is the amount of content i’ve seen that either focuses on gwen herself, or the strange relationship with minors, or the odd artwork of gwen, and the absolute disgusting behaviour towards giles.

gwen would be absolutely appalled seeing fanfictions of herself that involve nsfw or just her in general, anyone would, it’s disgusting to make works of real people in that setting. it’s like you’re treating them as an original character you can mould and manipulate as you see fit and using someone who is real with thought and feeling and consciousness for smut fics is not okay, or any fic in general. i totally get the hype around her characters, i literally have “brienne’s princess” in my bio and i’ve had “jane murdstone’s bloodbag” (in reference to my vamp au) as a name in a discord server.

but i think the fandom has begun to blur the lines between fictional characters and reality settings when it comes to gwen and the personalities she portrays on the television screen. it’s not fair to her. it’s disgusting. i’ve seen a minor do it, i’ve seen a grown adult do it. it’s something i don’t see shamed and frowned upon often enough and it’s really not okay.

on that note i’d like to quickly mention the photos, we alllll know what photos i’m talking about. the bunny one, the nudes, the ones gwen has expressed regret towards and wishes to not have them spread. was there not a “fan” who brought her a book of her nudes and wanted her to sign it? that person who was blocked on instagram by gwen because they reposted her nudes on their story and tagged her???? how can you refer to yourself as a fan after behaving so abhorrently? absolutely disgusting behaviour. as a collective fandom we need to stop touching those photos (metaphorically speaking) and leave them in the past.

i’ve been told of numerous circumstances in which adults have shown their nsfw works to minors in this fandom and it has to fucking stop. it’s disgusting!! how can you do that knowingly? i constantly ponder terminating my account after a minor got ahold of my nsfw work, and upon realising they WERE a minor it was as simple as blocking and moving on. it’s truly not that hard, folks. and the minors on tiktok who fight with others saying silly things like “that’s my wife” or worse. i’ve seen it all, i feel like, and the more i see it the more sick i become. i cannot stand it.

i have seen and heard of fans who have fat shamed gwen for that one pink dress she wore to the met gala. she looked so happy in that dress, and the audacity one must have to fatshame that poor woman on twitter then turn around and continue to proclaim your ‘love for her’ as if you’d done no wrong? are you fucking serious? are you mental?

and the sexualisation over the porcelain doll look, gods some of you are sick. those were not real breasts, people. considering the fact she wholeheartedly regrets her nude photoshoots , what possesses you to believe she would actually flaunt her chest in that outfit?

the blatant mistreatment of poor giles is not fucking okay either. just because you’re jealous of someone who makes her immensely happy does not give you the right to post something so vile and cruel about him. shame on you. why do you believe this is okay to post:

????????

are you serious? have any of you stopped to consider how HAPPY giles makes her? or is her happiness the last thing you ponder when you look at her? have you even noticed how unhappy she looks lately? have you truly paused to consider how she would feel about seeing this on your page, random twitter user, or the rest of you who think this is okay? bless your hearts.

and some of the absolutely horrific things i’ve seen about her online and the hurtful behaviour towards giles makes me question the difference between a fan and just the general paparazzi. because if you truly loved her and you truly loved giles then i would not be ranting into the fucking void about it for no reason.

i avoid interacting with pages i find problematic on here to keep from stirring the pot but tonight i chose violence and got reeeeeal pissy about how i felt about this place. it’s not okay what i see on here and it’s getting exhausting seeing the same cycle of content on a daily.

that’s everything i have to say, i think. i probably missed a lot that should be discussed in the comments but i’m done for now because i know if i go on i’ll probably cry.

before you post things about real people with real feelings , stop to consider how they will feel those real feelings towards the content you put out. chances are you’ll become less problematic and obnoxious that way. 💘

[hippolotamus]

Fav lines game 💫

rules: share your favorite lines or paragraph you've written from one of your fics, posted or wip.

thanks for the tags @bidisasterevankinard @diazsdimples @tizniz @daffi-990 💖

since I'm indecisive and, like Stevie, do what I want, I'm choosing lines from each of my 'ships

Buddie - from honey, when you call my name

It’s okay. Eddie can ask for this. He can want this. Isn’t it just one of the (many) points Frank’s been trying to get across? That he doesn’t have to settle for the bare minimum of whatever life hands him? That he can request and desire and, most importantly, receive. And anyway, it’s Buck. Who would be more enthusiastic to give than him? “I, uh, want you to have me,” he whispers. “I‘ve never. Not with another person, but. I want you to.” Jesus Christ, for all the confidence he started with he sure can’t seem to find any now.  “It’s okay if you haven’t. If you’re asking what I think you’re asking.” Buck presses a kiss to his hair. “You can have it. But I need you to ask me.” Another soft kiss, so light that Eddie could have imagined it. “Need to be sure.” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut tight, only for a second though. Because he wants Buck to see, and maybe he wants to allow Buck to see him, here in this sacred space they’re creating. He tilts his head back, baring himself. Offering himself up for Buck to take.

Lutalia - from stay here honey (i don't wanna share)

“You’re not getting soft on me, are you?” Nat teases. “I might start thinking you want me for more than just my body.” Lucy snorts and rolls her eyes. “This is a one-time thing. Don’t get used to it.” “Well, if you’re interested…” She trails off, tracing a finger down the center of Lucy’s chest, over her abdomen, and dragging the sheet down as she goes. She pauses to rub the heel of her palm over Lucy’s neatly trimmed patch of coarse blond curls. Nat’s gaze turns darker, hungrier. Like she’d eat Lucy alive, which doesn’t seem like such a terrible thing. “I don’t mind going back to something more familiar. You know, in the spirit of putting you at ease.” “How very altruistic of you.”

David/Patrick - from I know all your secrets

“Don’t go.” The words are barely more than a whisper. Still, David may as well have screamed them for as raw, vulnerable and hollowed out as he feels. He bites down on the inside of his lower lip, a pitiful, broken attempt to hold himself together. If Patrick wants to leave, David won’t stop him. He’ll stay frozen in place, stone faced and unyielding, until Patrick is gone.  Once upon a time he would have tried for nonchalant, but that act is no good anymore. Patrick doesn’t just mean something to him now – he is everything. Anything less and David will crack, bleeding his emotions everywhere until there’s nothing left. 

Twylexis - from the with my heart in my lap wip

Twyla steadies herself, maintaining her hold on Alexis so they’re almost walking as one down the sidewalk. She’s a comforting line of warmth huddled against Alexis’s side. Her cheeks are pink and flushed from dancing, and her lips curl up in a satisfied smile.  “Wasn’t that fun?” Twyla stops abruptly to look up. “That was fun.” “Yeah, doll. It was,” Alexis assures her, tapping a finger to the tip of Twyla’s nose and indulging in the soft chuckle it earns her.  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have gone with Tommy? He was having a really great time dancing with you.” Twyla’s giddiness turns to something more subdued and vulnerable that makes Alexis’s heart twist and ache.  “No, Twy.” Alexis presses a kiss to the crown of Twyla’s hair, then tilts her chin to drown in a mesmerizing sea of green. “Trust me when I say there’s nobody in there for me.”

np tagging @stereopticons @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @actuallyitsellie @filet-o-feelings

@queerbuckleys @bi-buckrights @chaosandwolves @elvensorceress @fortheloveofbuddie

@bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @saybiwithme @honestlydarkprincess @hoodie-buck

@indestructibleheart @jesuisici33 @kitteneddiediaz @thekristen999 @ladydorian05

@lemonzestywrites @lizzie-bennetdarcy @loserdiaz @loveyouanyway @monsterrae1

@rmd-writes @shipperqueen6 @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @statueinthestone

@slightlyobsessedwitheverything @steadfastsaturnsrings @the-likesofus @theotherbuckley @thewolvesof1998

@vanillahigh00 @watchyourbuck @weewootruck @welcometololaland @wikiangela

@wildlife4life @your-catfish-friend @mrs-f-darcy @drowsy-quill @a-noble-dragon

@blackandwhiteandrose and anyone else who wants to 😘

ps: if you want tagged in stuff like this click here

[noraispunk]

Oops!!!

husband!din djarin x wife!reader

summary: din’s got a bad case of breeding kink WC: ~1.7k

content warnings: smut, breeding kink, creampie, pet names, post season 3, no use of Y/N

You’re just settling into your new home with Din on Nevarro. The past few days have been a blur. The Mandalorians reclaimed Mandalore and you were absolutely sure that’s where Din wanted to settle down with you and Grogu. But shortly after your wedding ceremony Din told you that the three of you were leaving for Nevarro. 

“But… why? You just reclaimed Mandalore… Isn’t this where you wanted to live? you asked, as he prepared the Razor Crest for takeoff. 

“At one point yes but now that we’re a family… I think we should live elsewhere… Karga’s got a place for us there.”

“Really?” you asked, in disbelief that you’re going to have an actual place to call home with Din. 

“Yes, cyar’ika,” he said, turning around and grabbing your hands, “A place for us to be a real family.”

You nodded and felt the happy tears spring in your eyes. He squeezed your hands and went back to preparing the ship. You scooped Grogu into your arms and leaned back in your chair, watching Mandalore get smaller underneath you as you left. You left the treacherous atmosphere and entered space, before Din made the jump to lightspeed. You closed your eyes and tried to imagine your new life together on Nevarro. Your stoic tin man could be a real softie sometimes. 

That was several days ago. You’ve been spending your first few days back on Nevarro settling into your new home; a small house on the outskirts of town. Complete with a pond full of frogs in the front for Grogu. You’re in yours and Din’s bedroom (still a strange concept to you; a real bedroom for the two of you) decorating when you feel Din’s presence behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and your neck flush against his chest. 

See, Din has a small problem that he hasn’t told you about yet… Becoming your riduur and this new, domestic life on Nevarro unlocked something within him. And realized he wants nothing more than you on your back, legs spread open for him with his cock buried in your cunt, pumping you full of his cum. 

You’ll be doing dishes in the kitchen, hips swaying as you hum yourself. And Din will watch you and think about how he could grab your hips, bend you over the sink and take you right there. Or you’ll be on the couch, in your pajamas, reading something on your holo-pad. He’ll notice the way your soft thighs are pressed against each other in your pajama shorts. 

But the worst is when you hop in the refresher together and he’ll see the way the water beads up on your tits and the way you lather them up with soap. His mind goes elsewhere and he thinks about them full of milk and how sore you’ll be and how you’ll need help relieving the tension and oh Maker, he’s got it bad. 

These are the kinds of things he thinks about while he strokes his cock when he’s alone in the refresher or next to you in bed after you’ve fallen asleep. He’s hesitant to tell you about his new fantasy because he’s not sure how you’ll react. You’ve never talked in depth about the possibility of having kids together. But now that you have a stable place to live it’s all he can think about; living a quiet life with you and watching you grow round with his child. It’s all he wants. And you find out about it by accident. 

You’re on your back, thighs spread apart and legs hooked over Din’s shoulders. His helmet is off and you’re looking deep into each other’s eyes. He tears them away for a second to gaze down at your tits which are bouncing deliciously with each of his thrusts and imagines them full of milk. And he’s gone, bursting his load into you in complete bliss. 

“Kriff, Din,” you gasp. 

He’s pulled out of his daze. “Hmm, what is it, cyar’ika?”

“You came inside me! I don’t have an implant, remember?”

“Oh… sorry,” he says, sheepishly. 

“It’s alright. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you sigh. 

He kisses you and whispers another apology against your lips. You can’t stay mad at him for too long. 

After your little afternoon delight, you decide to get dinner started. Grogu’s down for a nap. You’re standing at the kitchen counter cutting vegetables, feeling Din’s release slowly seep out of you. And to be honest… you don’t hate the feeling. 

Din went into town to grab a few more things for dinner. He spent the rest of the afternoon replaying that moment in his head; the moment he came inside you for the first time. And now he doesn’t think he could go without that feeling. He arrives home, sees you at the kitchen counter and his eyes immediately gravitate towards your waist. He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. You stop cutting vegetables and lean into his touch. 

“I have to tell you something,” he says softly. 

“What is it?” you ask, turning to face him and gazing up into his visor. 

“...I want a baby with you, cyar’ika.”

Your mouth falls open. This is so sudden. And you’ve never talked about kids of your own before. 

“Oh, Din. I don’t… I don’t know,” you say, truly confused. 

“Please, cyar’ika,” Din begs, falling to his knees. He rests the bottom of his helmet against your thigh, visor peering up at you with what you can imagine are the most pleading eyes under the helmet. One of his hands caresses your thigh and you sigh. 

“You’ll look so pretty carrying my warriors.”

“Is this really what you want?”

“More than anything.”

“Okay,” you nod. 

He couldn’t drag you to the bedroom fast enough. He pulls you from the kitchen and into your bedroom. He pushes you down on the bed gently and starts pulling off your pants. 

“What about dinner?” you ask. 

“We can eat later,” he says hastily, removing his armor piece by piece.

You giggle and sit up to take off your shirt. You hear the hiss of the modulator and look over at him, never getting enough of the sight of his face. He looks over at you with the hungriest expression on his face while he slips off his flight suit. You lay down on your back and Din hovers over you, bringing his hand to the inside of your thigh, trailing it up to your cunt. You spread your legs for him and let him stroke your entrance gently. 

“I’m gonna take good care of you, cyar’ika,” he purrs.

You moan in response as brings his head to your cunt, licking a slow stripe up it. Your hands find his hair and tug on it a little, begging for more. He swirls his tongue around your clit in a rhythmic motion. He hums into you, sending vibrations through your core. He hooks his arms around your thighs and brings you closer against his face. You moan at the new and more intense sensation. You feel your core tightening in anticipation of a big release. With one last lap of his tongue you’re coming against his face, soaking the lower half of it completely. Pleasure washes over you in erratic waves as you ride out your high. Din laps up every last drop of your fluids before commenting on how good you taste. 

“You taste so good, mesh’la,” he murmurs before bringing his face by yours. He kisses you as he looks gathers your wetness in his hand, spreading it on his cock. He gives it a few strokes before aligning himself with your entrance. He enters you slowly and sighs at the sensation of your warm, wet cunt enveloping his cock. You hold your breath as he stretches your walls. He buries himself at the hilt, the head of his cock rubbing against your cervix. You exhale and relax as you expand to his size, feeling completely full. He places your legs on his shoulders and leans forward, folding you in half into a mating press. You moan at the deeper angle of his cock and feel tears spring in your eyes. 

“It’s so big, Din,” you whine.

“Yeah, you like that, mesh’la? Want me to fuck a baby into you just like this?” 

You moan in response, too cock drunk to form complete sentences. He chuckles and picks up the pace, driving his length into you with more force. He notices your tits bounce with each slam of his hips and reaches to suck on one of them, releasing your nipple with a loud pop. He moves to your other nipple and does the same thing; lick and suck at it until it becomes a stiff peak in his mouth. He pulls his head back and he gazes down at you with loving eyes, bringing one hand to the side your face and caressing your cheek. You feel yourself arrive at the brink of orgasm, core tightening as the pleasure stirs in your stomach. You come undone around him, moaning loudly as your orgasm overtakes you. Your cunt clenches him like a vice bringing him to the edge, too. He fucks you through your release which prolongs it further but he feels his balls tighten and he knows he’s about to cum. 

“Cum in me, Din. Fill me up,” you pant.

Those words pull his orgasm from him in an instant, coating your insides with his cum. The tip of his cock is tucked into your cervix, pulsating against it. He comes with a loud groan and closes his eyes in bliss before pumping into you with a few more strokes until he goes soft. He stays inside you, keeping you plugged with his cum. He kisses you and whispers, “Thank you, cyar’ika. I’ll take such good care of you when you’re carrying my warrior.”

You kiss him back and whisper, “I know you will, Din.” 

You stay there like that for a while with him still inside you until you hear Grogu waking up from his nap and fussing in his room. He pulls out of you reluctantly and starts to get dressed. You go to get dressed, too, wanting to resume dinner but he stops you. 

“Rest, riduur. I’ll take care of everything.”

“Okay,” you sigh. 

Sure he wants you to rest… but you’re also certain that he wants you to lay down to ensure all of his cum stays inside you. You get the feeling that you’re not going to be leaving this bed for a long time, not until he’s absolutely sure his seed has taken and you’re carrying his baby. You’re not complaining though. 

[perfectlovevn]

Can you do the understand my ship thing for Posion, Ryan and Eris

I’m going to jam these two asks together since it’s easier to categorize them. Here’s my notes on each of them.

Eris is kind of difficult since they are still a self insert character so really you can make the sliders however you want since I never really gave any specific detail on most of them. The only thing I really confirmed is that they have had previous relationships and that they use pet names (specifically with Milo). That’s also why all the “levels” are blank. That and I quite literally don’t know, Eris is that much of an enigma to me. Their portrait didn’t have enough space to really show off their hair though which is unfortunate.

Poisons general thing for PDA is pretty much just fighting, so it will be a lot of outdoor fights. Also I’m just eyeballing their height because once again I’m really bad with heights.

Ryan is supposed to be shorter than Milo since I think this giant boy being bullied by a smaller guy is kind of funny, however once again I am bad at heights I was staring at that one height comparison chart for like a solid 10 minutes. I still think that his way of showing affection is just like berating or backhand complimenting people though.

I almost forgot how to draw Ryan and Poison, I’m sorry about that.

[whumpninja]

Ask Me About…Pirate Whump!

Ahoy, mateys! This ask game be very late because Jack be a chowder-headed landlubber and forgot to post the scurvy thing! But shiver me timbers, we’re hoisting the black flag anyway, by thunder! Yo ho!

Wow, pirate speak is fun. Anyway! I’m not going to do a new ask game this week; instead I’m going to finally get the signups out for the custom ones and start work on those! But if you have any ideas for genres to do, I’m still accepting those for the poll!

And one more thing- every time I post one of these there’s a couple people that ask me questions from it. That’s so sweet and I appreciate it so much, but for these ask games it isn’t necessary! I usually don’t have OCs that match the genre, these are just for the community that might!

Now hoist the Jolly Roger and plunder these questions for yer piratical OCs, me hearties!

Warnings: these are whumpy questions, so they involve whumpy content!

Taglist: @sleepyiswhumping

QUESTIONS FOR A PIRATE WHUMPER

🏴‍☠️- what’s the name of your ship? Do any of your crew have piratical nicknames?

💰- what was your most successful moment of piracy?

🦈- have you ever encountered a shark/whale/sea monster/siren/other unusual ocean creature?

⚓️- do you believe in any pirate/sailor superstitions?

🥥- do you have a pirate stronghold/fortress/secret island/etc. to hide out at when you’re not on the water?

QUESTIONS FOR A PIRATE WHUMPEE

🗺️- where’s the rest of your crew/ship? Is anyone coming to help you?

🐚- what happened the last time you were hurt?

🐬- do you think piracy is a crime? Do you deserve what’s happening to you because of it?

🌊- where are you right now? If you’re on land, do you miss the sea?

🍌- do you have an escape plan? What is it?

QUESTIONS FOR A NON-PIRATE WHUMPER

⚔️- what’s your general opinion of pirates?

⛵️- what was the first pirate ship you ever encountered?

🥭- if you were captured by pirates, what would you do?

☠️- is there one particular pirate/pirate crew that you consider your archenemy?

🐋- have you ever survived a shipwreck or a storm?

QUESTIONS FOR A NON-PIRATE WHUMPEE

🧜‍♀️- how did you get where you are/how were you captured?

🌬️- what is your opinion of pirates? Has it changed?

🏝️- do you know where you are in relation to the rest of the world? Do you think there’s any chance of escape?

🦑- what’s the most frightening thing that’s happened to you so far?

🍍- who are you most afraid of?

[manorpunk]

2️⃣

‘Comprador’ refers to an agent of a large multinational corporation whose typical job responsibility is taking a small underdeveloped nation and turning it into a vending machine for a natural resource - oil, coffee, coal, minerals - then getting that nation so dependent on selling those raw materials to that company that they effectively control it.

Unrelatedly, the Global Logistics Network was the single largest anything of 2069.

They weren’t a monopoly, no, no, no. They were… you see, the crowded and fragile system of intercontinental shipping was simply too important to be left in the hands of any single nation. You all saw what happened when the Brits monopolized it, and when the US monopolized it after them. You’ve seen how nations owning major canals turns them into a hive of corruption. Shipping belongs to the world, which means it belongs to the GLN.

They were headquartered in Qingdao, a major city in the Shandong province of China. Don’t be fooled, China fumbled the past few decades as much as everyone else, but every institution needs a head, and every head needs a headquarters, and the headquarters of the Global Logistics Network were located in Qingdao. The complex of skyscrapers that comprised GLNHQ was large and populous enough to form its own city-state, a closed loop of offices, gyms, fabricators, dormitories, labs, shops, copackers, cafeterias, and warehouses. You could spend your whole life there without ever setting foot on the earth itself. Many did.

Such was the Global Logistics Network. Like capitalism rising centuries ago from the sclerotic and shambling remnants of feudalism, the GLN rose from the old ways of hyper-financialized over-leveraged capitalism to create something new, something so new it didn’t even have a name yet. Much like the transition from feudalism to capitalism, things were better overall, but good lord, what a low bar to clear.

Towering above it all at the top floor of the central skyscraper sat Meng “Harold” Jianli, sole co-founder of the GLN. One might wonder how someone could be a ‘sole co-founder,’ and the answer was that the GLN was so powerful and omnipresent that its leader could have called himself a living god for all the power that sat upon his person. He certainly had more power than those who had historically claimed the title of living god.

But Meng “Harold” Jianli was no god, living or otherwise. Despite the vast power seated upon his person, or perhaps because of it,he looked rather disheveled, with a jowly face like splotchy old parchment, a sagging belly, and a crudely functional flat-top of black hair. His suit was slack and rumpled - his weight had a tendency to fluctuate wildly thanks to the stress.

It was stressful, being in charge. Past a certain point, you don’t really get more powerful, you just have more people to babysit and more fires to put out. He had to keep an eye on Novo Karo Bioresearch, or they’d be so excited to show off their new research that they’d start doing eugenics. He had to keep an eye on Vae Victis Engineering, or they’d get so excited testing out their new tech that they’d start a world war. And now, with his hands steepled and his brow furrowed, he had to keep an eye on the vtuber that the American League had elected president.

 He stared at Sunny Roosevelt. Sunny smiled back and gave him a little wave.

“I am willing to work with you, miss Roosevelt. The GLN is willing to work with just about anyone, it’s one of our biggest strengths.” He shifted effortlessly between ‘I’ and ‘we,’ treating the two as synonyms. “The issue is, we are still trying to figure out what your administration actually intends to do.” 

“Hmm.” Sunny put a finger to her chin, pursed her lips, and looked upward. An ellipsis appeared over her head.  “You got a copy of my campaign objectives, right?”

“Are you referring to this?” He held up a single sheet of paper, on which was written ‘make anime real’ in 48-point font and nothing else.

“Yep!”

“And you think this qualifies as a roadmap for your presidency.”

“Personally, I think it’s quite ambitious.”

Harold puttered his lips. “Miss Roosevelt-”

“Please, call me ‘mommy.’”

“Miss Roosevelt, I understand that you are standing on rather shaky ground. The National Board of Directors is being dragged away from the provisional US government days,” he said, which neglected to mention how half of the National Board of Directors were former GLN big names, “and the new state congress acts more like a rehab clinic for celebrity podcasters than a governing body,” he said, which stood just fine without caveats.

“I understand,” Sunny said, nodding and still smiling, “I’m a bimbo who’s in way over her head, so you’re going to unveil the GLN’s big five year plan and tell me to follow it like a good little girl.”

Harold was already in the process of lifting a hefty unlabeled binder, intending to thump it dramatically atop his desk, but the accuracy of Sunny’s comment left him slightly deflated. “I prefer to think of it as an advisory-”

“And then I’ll kiss up to you during our conversations,” Sunny continued, “but stall and drag my feet when it comes to actually implementing anything, and you’ll say,” she loosened her face and dropped her voice, “dammit Sunny, are you trying to play me for a fool?”

“I don’t sound like that. I don’t sound like Richard Nixon,” Harold protested, sounding kind of like Richard Nixon.

“And then I’ll say, it’s not me, it’s the state governors, they just refuse to cooperate. The new congress is one big old boy’s club. Even the Board of Directors is demanding overly-detailed descriptions of everything before they’ll sign off on it, it’s malicious compliance!” Sunny hung her head and threw her hands, wailing, “you set me up to fail, Harold. You set me up to fail, you rat bastard!”

“Are you done?”

Sunny straightened back up. There was that smile again. “Yep. That was fun.”

“In any case, while I understand you are currently something of a figurehead, even figureheads cannot afford to do nothing. Not when a third of the country is still lacking even the barest measures of centralized government.”

“What, you mean the Midwest Autonomous Zone?” A little question mark appeared over Sunny's head. “I mean, yeah, but it’s not like that started with the fall of the old US. Missouri was a dump long before the thirties.”

“Be that as it may-”

“That’s the 2030s, because we’re in the future.”

“Miss Roosevelt.”

“Please, call m-”

“No. Miss Roosevelt, why did you become president if you are so averse to actually presiding?”

Sunny shrugged and let out a huffy little sigh. “Look, most people weren’t exactly begging to have America back. Not even Americans. They don’t want someone with a bold, inspirational vision. Bold, inspirational visions are what start world wars, for George’s sake. I, for one, believe that bench-warming is not just a good idea but a moral imperative.”

“George’s sake?” Harold repeated.

“Saint George Washington. Oh, right, America’s got a brand new religion now, it’s called Founderism. We took the whole Founding Father worship thing and made it an official heresy. Also, Jesus was a small business owner.”

Harold grimaced and considered leaving the former USA to the wolves for a few more decades.

[goodqueenaly]

Not sure if you are the right person to ask this but what is the deal with Gerion's trip to Valyria? Because according to Fire and Blood, after Aerea died Jaehaerys forbid anyone from Westeros from ever going there and ordered than any ship suspected of having been there should be turned away from ports.

Did somebody later overturned that order so it was again legal to go there, did Gerion think it wouldn't apply to him because he's a Lannister or did Tywin find a neat way to get rid of problematic brother without dirtying his hands personally?

I think the No-Prize Answer is that even if this law was still on the books, so to speak, and remembered by anyone (except, say, the platinum-link maesters of the Citadel) by 291 AC, Robert Baratheon was probably not particularly inclined either to recall this bit of history or enforce it as king, especially when it came to his uncle by marriage. Robert was by no means stupid, but his areas of expertise were never highly scholastic, and so a decree issued nearly two and a half centuries prior may not have even registered in Robert’s mind as an important point in his education. Moreover, as king - especially a king almost a decade into his reign by 291 AC - Robert displayed little interest in his role as supreme judicial authority in the realm, calling laws a “tedious business” and bemoaning the work of “listen[ing] to them [i.e. his subjects] complain until my mind is numb and my ass is raw”. It is possible, if not indeed probable, that Robert was too busy hunting, hawking, and/or pursuing a fleeting extramarital affair to even bat an eye at the idea of one of his subjects sailing to the ruins of Valyria, much less whether such a voyage would be legally forbidden.

Too, even if Robert had thought to bring up Jaehaerys I’s decree, he may have refrained from doing so in deference to his Lannister in-laws. It is no secret, certainly by the time of AGOT, that Robert had allowed Lannister influence to flourish at court, to the exclusion of virtually any other aristocratic faction: his acceptance of Tyrek and Lancel Lannister as his squires, his acceptance of Jaime as the Warden of the East following the death of Jon Arryn, his concession to Cersei over Lady at Darry. While Gerion Lannister left Westeros some seven years before the start of the main novels, I could very much believe that Robert had already begun to allow this Lannister domination at court: after all, he had seemingly raised no objection to his (ostensible) firstborn son being given an explicitly Lannister( and to that point, historically pointed) name, nor to his daughter being given a very Lannister-like name (and in fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Cersei named Tommen after Uncle Gerion himself and his voyage, a nod to the Lannister glory once lost by King Tommen which this favorite uncle hoped to reclaim). I don’t tend to think Tywin engineered Gerion’s voyage - an audaciously confident far-reaching quest to reclaim the symbol of Lannister regal power, undertaken by this most reckless of Tytos Lannister’s sons, doesn’t seem too far off from some of the actions of, say, Jaime or Tyrion - but I do think that if some or all of the Lannisters supported Gerion in this voyage (and funded him going on it), Robert may not have been personally inclined to fight his queen and/or the Lannister faction about it.

Of course, the practical answer is that GRRM introduced the idea of Gerion Lannister sailing to Valyria, (almost certainly) never to return, many years before he described Jaehaerys I forbidding Westerosi from sailing to Valyria. Just as Fire and Blood Volume 1 described the infrastructure improvements in the capital instituted by Jaehaerys I without acknowledging what happened to King’s Landing thereafter to make it the stinking cesspit of the main novels, for example, and alluded to hatchlings and young drakes extant during the reigns of Jaehaerys I and Viserys I without ever explaining why there were no more adult dragons than those we already knew going into that book, so F&B gave us this decree without attempting to reconcile it with the current attitude of the Westerosi legal system toward voyages to the Smoking Sea. It’s entirely possible we get an answer to this apparent contradiction in a future novel, and/or in Fire and Blood Volume 2, but for now it simply remains an apparent unanswered question.

[writing-till-i-am-dead]

Laigan oneshot

(I’m just having fun with these ship names now)

Ashlyn stepped to the front and clapped her hands. “Ok, so.. my parents have been saying that in order for us to survive, we need to work as a.. team.”

Taylor tilted her head. “Don’t we already?”

“Apparently bonds formed only from trauma aren’t strong enough.”

This seemed to blow everyone’s minds as they all said, “They aren’t?”

Ashlyn shook her head. “No.. so, I’ve decided we are going to split into teams of two by having three people draw one name from a hat.” 

Ashlyn turned and picked up a baseball cap filled with torn papers. 

“So, who will be drawing names?”

Taylor, Aiden, and Ben all rose their hands. 

Aiden jumped from the bus seat bounded forward excitedly as he drew out a name. 

“Let’s see.. LOGAN!”

Logan damn near fell out of his seat as he exclaimed, “HUH?!”

Aiden plopped himself right next to Logan and Logan tried to make himself as small as possible in his seat. 

Why did it have to be Aiden?

Logan would’ve taken Ashlyn, or Ben, or Taylor, or even Tyler’s aggressive attitude!

He slowly turned to face him and give him a friendly smile. 

Aiden smiled back and Logan felt his blood run cold and he quickly turned away again. 

Why is he so creepy?! he thought anxiously. 

“So, uh, Ashlyn!” Logan blurted out. “What sort of team building exercises are we going to do?” 

“Well.. my dad said that in his time in the military, the best way to form bonds is helping each other in life or death situations, and having heart to heart conversations. And, well, we already have the first one down.”

Everyone looked a little confused. “How are we supposed to have those just.. casually?” Tyler asked as he sat next to Ben. 

“I don’t know!” Ashlyn exclaimed. “That’s just what he said!”

Everyone looked awkwardly at their partner. Well, except Aiden. Logan was pretty sure it was impossible for Aiden to feel awkward. 

“So, um.. Aiden.. you like.. dangerous stuff?” Logan asked, trying his hardest to keep himself from freaking out. 

“Ya! Haha, one time I jumped off a ski lift. The way my ankle snapped was so weird, but also funny, haha!”

“Oh, um.. ya.. haha..” Is he purposefully trying to freak me out?! What the hell?! Someone help me!!! “Um.. well.. one time I was on a hike with my family with our dog and he ate some oleanders.. that was pretty messed.. haha..”

“Oleanders?” Aiden asked, suddenly seeming genuinely interested. 

“Oh.. um.. they’re these really toxic flowers. They can cause irregular heartbeats. And seizures. My dog had a really, really bad seizure after eating it. He just kind of.. flopped around before he dropped dead.. haha..”

Aiden’s eyes widened and he cleared his throat after a moment. “Descriptive..”

“Huh? Oh! Uh, I’m sorry! I, um.. I didn’t really think about it!”

“Ha, it’s fine, man, don’t worry about it!” Aiden said, wrapping his arm around Logan’s shoulder. “You got any more stories to tell?”

“Oh.. uh.. oh! So, my aunt works at a hospital and one time she was babysitting me and I had to go to her work. And this patient had burst into the hospital, vomiting everywhere and passing out. He had eaten a death cap!”

“A death cap?! That sounds so cool, what is that!”

Logan wasn’t even aware of the proximity of them, or the fact that he was talking to Aiden. He was just excited to talk about things that interest him. 

“They’re these very poisonous mushrooms. They cause nausea, low blood pressure, and vomiting. The mortality rate for eating them is at 30%!”

Aiden seemed a little let down by that number. “30%? Really? What’s the most poisonous mushroom, then?”

“Oh, um.. the death caps are..”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s it? Man, that’s just so low..”

“You.. want more people to die??”

“Well, no. But it just makes it more interesting, doesn’t it? Kind of like the same morbid interest of watching true crime..”

“I guess I understand?”

There was a moment of silence between them. 

“Do you know all these plant facts because your grandparents are florists?” Aiden asks. 

“Oh, ya..”

Aiden smirks. “Kind of like how they got us access to drugs?”

Logan’s shoulders jerk up and he quickly gets defensive. “H-hold on, it’s not what you think! They were just able to get the drugs because they have poppy flowers which are used to make opioids! N-NOT THAT THEY MAKE OPIOIDS OFTEN, OR EVER!”

Aiden burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he fell out of his seat. “Oh! Oh my gosh! Your face! Haha!!”

Logan’s face went red and everyone turned to look at them, curious. 

“Ummm, A-Aiden.. it wasn’t that funny.. haaaa..” He grabbed Aiden’s arm and pulled him back into the seat. “Quit being so loud!” he said quickly, his face bright red. 

“You quit being so embarrassed all the time!” Aiden countered. 

“I-! Ughh.. Aiden..” he whimpered, covering his face. 

“Pfff.. cmon, Logan. Keep rattling on random facts about deadly plants!”

He still seemed hesitant before saying, “Have you heard about the Sandbox tree?”

“Oh? No, I haven’t!”

Logan smiled, knowing this would be right up Aiden’s alley. “Their seeds.. explode!”

Aiden gasped. “No way!”

“Ya!”

“How dangerous is it?”

“Pretty dangerous. It can severely hurt humans. Not to mention that it’s poisonous all over.”

Aiden burst out laughing and pat Logan’s back. “You know what I like!”

Logan laughed along with him as he rattled off more plant facts. Eventually plant facts moved facts about how deadly space is. 

“They actually have no idea how black holes function?! Movies lied to me!” 

Logan snickered and nodded. “Same here!”

“What do you think happens? When you enter a black hole?”

“Hmm..” Logan thought for a moment before saying. 

“You’re lost in a void. There’s no up, there’s no down. There’s no escape. Only fear and loneliness and existentialism as you stay there forever. Your cells won’t age or change.. so for eternity, you’re stuck there, never able to achieve freedom…”

He looked up at Aiden, who seemed very, very surprised. 

“O-OR, UM… maybe you just come out on the other side! I-I dunno, haha!”

Aiden chuckled and shook his head. “You have some pretty dark thoughts. Just different from my kind of dark. I like it, though.”

“Y..You do?”

“Ya! You should say more stuff like that. It’s really interesting!”

“I…”

“All right everyone!” Ashlyn exclaimed. “It’s getting late. Cmon, we don’t wanna fall asleep on the bus.”

Aiden stood up and held out a hand to Logan. “Cmon.”

Logan was surprised by Aiden’s genuine friendliness before smiling back at him and letting him help him up. 

“I think today was really a smart idea, Ashlyn,” Aiden said to her. 

Ashlyn nodded. “Glad to hear it. My dad will be proud of us, I think.”

Logan smiled at that. Proud of him…

[wsdanon]

among us au please?

hi \o/ firstly i'm going to direct you here for some backstory/information about the au

next: here is a bit of the first chapter \o/! it's 2500 words basically so reblogs are appreciated but it does cut off before a proper chapter resolution

Really, there are better things Felps could be doing with his life. But technically he’s obligated to do this, and he hasn’t found anything else to do, so, here he is. Handing over the fake ID Cellbit made for him. 

The security guard barely even scrutinises it before passing it back, and nodding him through. It’s always a gamble, though. So, he keeps walking until he’s far enough out of view that the other guards won’t really pay attention to him, and lingers until Cellbit catches up. 

“Easy.” Cellbit mutters. “I don’t even think he read our names.”

“Well, easier is better, right?” 

“So careless. It’s like they’re asking us to kill them.”

“He’s not in the line of fire.” Felps says with a shrug. “Even with all the security crackdowns, no ports have been attacked yet.”

“We should change that.” Cellbit says, far too determined for Felps’ liking.

“I dunno… you know the plan. Cucurucho won’t like it if we deviate from it.”

“Fuck him.” Cellbit hisses. “Any day now I’m going to get you your freedom, and then we can kill whoever the fuck we like.”

“Keep your voice down.”

Felps says it calmly, but he won’t deny that the slight rise in Cellbit’s volume sent a spike of fear through him. Cellbit doesn’t seem to care as much—confident that he’ll be able to break them out of whatever prison—but Felps would rather not chance it. That’s the whole reason they’re doing this, after all. He’s caught between a prison sentence from the Federation, and a prison sentence from the human government.

Ultimately, Cellbit would prefer the latter, Felps is sure. If the Federation finds out he’s travelling with Felps, they’ll probably just kill him. 

Thankfully, though, Cellbit changes the topic to something less incriminating, and Felps spends the rest of the walk through the station feeling calmer. Until they hit the body scanners. 

The ID check is always easy. Even when heavily scrutinised, Cellbit is good enough at making them that they always end up passing through with no problems. 

The body scanner is a different subject. 

It’s finicky. Relies entirely on Cellbit’s ability to successfully use sleight of hand to put in the USB with the code that’ll make Felps look human, and then take it out again. Without any guards noticing. 

One of the reasons they hit this port specifically, though, was that they haven’t been involved in any incidents. No caught aliens, and no departing ships that never arrive to their destinations. The crackdown has been intense, but people are lazy. A persistent, unconscious thought of, but it’d never happen to me. 

This station is fairly busy, too. A lot to keep an eye on, no reminder to keep an eye on it—it’s the best shot they have.

Cellbit steps on first. The holographic grid climbs up his body, and then back down. He’s waved along. He stops, and leans close to the guard—his elbow resting on the desk, hand lingering past their view. Easily, he slips the USB into the computer.

“I’m just gonna wait for my friend, is that okay?” 

Felps can’t hear him over the crowd, but they’ve gone over the plans a million times. 

The security guard nods, looking bored. Felps steps onto the platform. The scanner sweeps over him, static and nerves following it. But it’s easy enough to keep his cool while his heart is beating in his throat. He’s always been good at that, even without the amount of practice he’s been put through recently. 

He steps off the platform. Doesn’t even get the chance to worry as the computer quickly confirms him as human. The guard waves him through. Cellbit pushes himself away from the desk—USB safely retrieved, and quickly hidden back in his sleeve. 

“Easy.” Cellbit mutters again. 

“Easy is good.” Felps reminds him again.

When they first started doing this, Cellbit used to revel in all the gaps of transport security, and how easy it was to exploit them. Felps thinks, maybe, Cellbit misses the challenge a little. He doesn’t know a lot about what put Cellbit on that prisoner transport ship, but with the gleeful look in his eyes when he murders, he can take a guess. 

“Do you remember where our ship is?” Felps asks, before Cellbit goes on another rant about lax security.

“Of course I do.” 

Cellbit takes his arm, and pulls him off in a direction. Felps lets himself be led. 

It’s a smaller ship, as usual. Which means it’ll stay in port until they arrive. Felps is tempted to take a detour to eat a proper meal before they leave, but he knows they need to stake out the situation. 

The information on this ship is frighteningly scarce. Usually Cellbit can have a whole crew list pulled up, as well as general spaceship schematics. This one has nothing, though. All they managed to find was a list of potential departure stations so they could sway the choice their way. 

It’s not the kind of mission Felps is happy to take. Cellbit’s eyes had practically lit up the second he realised it wasn’t going to be easy, and had spent roughly the next forty eight hours trying to dig up any scraps of information he could. 

Felps hid all his coffee sometime around hour number thirty nine; when he was too focused on the investigation to remember how much he had in stock, and figured he had just run out. Or, that’s what Felps assumes, considering Cellbit never bothered him about the missing coffee. Either way, he eventually passed out at his desk.

The point is, even though they should be through the difficult part, Felps still feels his unease grow. 

Cellbit stops abruptly, Felps bumping into him. 

“There.” He points over to airlock number six. “That one.”

Felps cranes to try and look at the ship through the window. It doesn’t look like a model he’s familiar with, but he’s a little too far away to tell.

“Let’s go introduce ourselves then.”

They walk over, dodging through the crowd. There’s no one waiting outside the airlock yet, but Felps catches a glimpse of someone with bright pink hair carrying cargo onto the ship. 

He makes a beeline towards them. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Cellbit heading to the window facing the ship. Felps knocks quickly on the edge of the airlock to announce his presence. 

“Yeah, hold on.” 

The voice is familiar, but Felps can’t place it. Probably just the accent. 

They place down the boxes hastily, turn around—and practically jump five feet into the air.

“What the fuck?” Mike exclaims, eyes wide. “Felps? You’re alive?”

Ah. That’s why it’s familiar. 

“Oh. Yeah!” Okay, this complicates things. “Hi, Mike!”

“What are you doing here?” 

“I’m the pilot.” 

“You’re—? Ugh.” Mike swipes a hand under his glasses, and drags it back down his face, clearly annoyed. “These stupid fucking blackout documents. Well, it is good to see you, at least.”

“It’s good to see you, too.” And it is, really. Felps had grown… maybe too attached to him and Pac. “I’m here with Cellbit—he’s my co-pilot.”

“Cellbit made it out, too? Damn, soon you’ll be telling me the murders just completely stopped after we left.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t know.” Felps lies. “We took a page out of your book.”

“Good idea.”

“So, you’re working here?” Felps asks, dread curling through him. 

He managed to get Cellbit to leave them alone before, but this ship is a lot smaller. They probably won’t get that luxury this time. 

“Yeah, me and Pac. We’re the engineers.”

“Nice!”

Not nice. Really not nice. Shit.

“Well,” Mike points a thumb behind him, “Pac’s in the engine room setting some stuff up if you want to go say hi.”

He resolutely tries to ignore the butterflies floating through his chest at the thought of seeing Pac again. He’s probably going to have to let Cellbit kill them, now is not the time.

“Thanks. I think Cellbit’s taking a look at the ship.”

“Cool, cool. I’ll see you later, then.”

“See you later.”

As they go their separate ways, Felps quickly messages Cellbit the news. Then he tries to find his way towards the engineering room. 

It’s more difficult than it should be. The ship’s layout isn’t like any he’s been on before, and there’s absolutely no maps, or directions anywhere. But finally, he stumbles into the place. The heat from the engines is overwhelming, but nice. Felps rarely feels temperatures that mimic the types of weather he grew up with. 

There’s a grate on the floor that’s pulled up, and Felps can see a blue hoodie, and black hair crouched down in the space revealed. 

“Hi!” Felps calls out over the sound of idling engines, trying not to startle him.

It doesn’t work. Pac yelps, and there’s the distinct sound of something being dropped. Then he pokes his head out from the space, and grins.

“Felps!” Pac pulls himself up so he can sit on the floor, legs still dangling over the edge. “Mike told me you were here.”

In lieu of taking off the hoodie, he’s just pushed the sleeves up to his elbows. Grease covers his arms—there’s spots of it on his face, too. He looks good. 

“Yeah! It’s good to see you again.”

“You too! Man, I’m so glad you’re alive.” Pac winces. “Sorry we didn’t take you with us. It’s just the lights went out, and we couldn’t find you, and then—uh, yeah. We, like, had to get out.”

Felps keeps his eyes carefully trained on Pac’s face, instead of letting them dip down to where his legs are. He’s not supposed to know about that.

“It’s fine.” He says with a shrug. “Me and Cellbit got out pretty much right after you, anyway.”

“That’s good.” Pac clicks his fingers. “Oh, hey, have you met Miss Government Agent yet?”

“Miss—huh?” He laughs, not worried about the fact it sounds nervous. He thinks anyone would be in this situation. “A government agent?”

“Yeah! She’s who we’re transporting. Bagi, her name is.” Pac lifts his legs out of the hole so he can stand up. He’s wearing long pants, so from Felps’ brief glance, he still has no idea what his leg looks like now—how well it managed to heal, if it did at all. “I know, I know those blackout documents are so annoying, right? But, yeah, that’s the reason—safety protocols, and all that. I don’t even know what she does in the government, it’s that top secret! I can introduce you guys, if you want?”

“Oh, sure. Thank you.” He watches Pac shift the grate back in place. “Unless you’re busy?”

“Nah, Mike’s better with all this stuff, anyway.” Pac shrugs, and wipes his hands together as if that would do anything but just smudge the grease more. “He’ll do a check over on my work, and finish up anything I missed.”

“Okay, nice.”

God, he never should’ve let Cellbit accept this mission. A government agent? Who the government is going to these lengths to protect? They’re never going to live comfortably again if they follow through with it—constantly on the run from authorities who would never leave a case as big as this alone. 

Pac grabs a rag near his toolbox, and absently attempts to clean the grease from himself.

“Also, don’t be surprised if you see a kid running around.” Pac informs him. “His name is Richarlyson, and—my god, Felps—he’s so cute.”

Felps feels the blood freeze in his veins.

“A kid? There’s a kid here?”

“Yeah, he’s mine and Mike’s actually.” Pac says, unaware of Felps’ escalating crisis. “We adopted him—totally legally, by the way—hm, maybe earlier this year?”

“Oh, how cool!”

A kid. Felps can’t kill a kid. Well, technically he hasn’t really killed anyone, but he knows that the blood on Cellbit’s hands may as well be on his, too. 

They’ve never been in a situation where a kid was on the line. Felps doesn’t know how to proceed now that there is.

He knows he’s gotten a reputation within the Federation of being brutal, but efficient. All Cellbit, really, but Cucurucho doesn't know about him. Maybe that’s why he was given this mission.  

But he hasn’t even come to terms with the fact he’ll need to let Cellbit actually kill Pac and Mike this time. And now there’s a kid. And they also need to kill a government agent, too, and there’s no way the aftermath of that is going to be pretty.

This is very quickly spiraling out of control—veering heavily away from the kind of chaos Felps enjoys with these missions.  

He needs to talk to Cellbit. Quickly. 

But, for now, he also needs information. So, he follows Pac out of the engine room, and down the confusing hallways. 

“The ship layout is very strange.” Felps comments.

“Yeah, you can thank Mike for that.” Pac says with a laugh. “He designed it.”

“Really? That’s cool.”

“We built it a couple years back. I don’t know why the government wants to use our ship, though. Surely they’ve got better ones at their disposal, right?”

“Must be to do with the whole secret thing.” Felps shrugs. “Like, if people want to attack the ship a government agent is on in the middle of space, they’re probably not going to look for something two random guys built, right?”

Not like it really worked out for them. Somehow Cucurucho still got their hands on the information.

“Ohhh, very true, very true.” Pac sends him a smile, and Felps tries not to trip over his feet at the sight of it. “You’re very smart, Felps.”

“Thanks!” He thinks he’s smiling a little too much like an idiot at the compliment, and quickly changes topics. “Wait, but if it’s your ship, why are me and Cellbit here? Surely you both can fly it.”

“Well, we can, but… I dunno. More hands on deck if there’s an emergency, maybe?” 

“Ah, true.”

“Here, let me connect to your comm—I’ll give you a map.” 

Pac stops in them in the middle of the hallway. While he’s distracted with the task, Felps takes the opportunity to drink in the sight of him—now that they’re closer and he can see all the little details more clearly. He looks mostly the same as Felps remembers, honestly. Still beautiful. If Felps had to point out what’s changed, he’d say that Pac looks less scared.

See, Felps hasn’t been able to forget the expression on Pac’s face when the lights turned out, and Cellbit tackled him to the ground. Even after all this time, he can still conjure the sound of Pac’s screams of pain, and desperate pleas for help clearly in his mind. 

Felps usually likes to let Cellbit have his fun. This was the first—and only—time he’d ever interrupted that.

It’s… nice to see Pac not so scared.

--

and that's what i have so far \o/! hope you guys enjoyed! unfortunately this is way too much of a multi-chaptered fic for me to work on actively right now, but maybe when i finish one of the others i'll come back to it

[mayiwritesomething]

Love is an Unfamiliar Name (Pt. 9 - Final)

Wordcount: 2,7 k

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

A/N: Hi guys, thank you all for following this series that was quite fun to write. But like everything in life, we’ve got to the end of it haha

Don’t want to give any spoilers about it, besides the fact the reader cries listening to Arctic Monkeys (who has never?), the only thing i’ll say is that we have a quite happy ending, and I hope you like it 💖

I’m thinking about writing some more one shots about them, should I?

>MASTERLIST

———-

Home

The next day was a battle. Your head felt as heavy as lead when you woke up, unsure if it was from the two shots of whiskey or the tears you shed the night before. As you faced the breath of sobriety, you noticed missed calls from Jennifer and Colin.

Upon opening the group chat with the girls, you were met with a flood of messages and chaos. Some were concerned about you (you couldn't even recall the tear-filled voice messages you sent from the hotel), while others were hurling insults at Pedro, and the sober part of you felt bad reading those.

Scrolling through the messages, you came across a selfie Jenny had sent: she and Colin acting silly in front of the elevator mirror with the caption, "Colin says hi!" Despite your own misery, you couldn't help but feel happy for them. After all, you had been shipping these two for years.

As you continued scrolling, a notification from Colin popped up: “Forgive me now. Thank me later.” You were too miserable to comprehend what he meant, so you began tidying up your things to distract yourself. The need to immerse yourself in music to navigate through your cathartic moment and move forward grew stronger. With one month left of shooting, you couldn't afford to be unprofessional.

Opening your suitcase, you discovered one of his sweaters that you had planned to return to him if he were there now. Your Life Sucks playlist transitioned to Arctic Monkeys, and you found yourself lying on the bed, crying and singing, "Do I wanna know? If these feelings flow both ways... Sad to see you go. Was sorta hoping you’d stay…" Through sobs, you muttered, "Oh, my friend Alex... I'm so pathetic, oh my god," as you chuckled at your own disaster.

Still reclined on the bed, time slipped away unnoticed as an 80s ballad filled the room. Suddenly, the doorbell pierced through the melody, jolting you from your reverie. Rapidly, you silenced the song and glanced in the mirror, ensuring you didn’t look like a panda before rushing to answer the door. Why had Jennifer shown up unannounced?

Swinging the door open, you exclaimed, “Hey, early riser! What the fuc—Pedro?” Confusion swirled as you tried to comprehend how he found your place. Jenny wouldn’t have given your location, knowing your temper all too well.

“Hi,” Pedro mumbled sheepishly, “could we talk?”

“Firstly, how on earth did you find me?” You inquired, a mix of curiosity and annoyance evident in your tone.

“I had some help from your Irish friend,” he confessed, scratching his head trying to find the right words—a habit you found quite cute. “Oh, and I brought you some coffee— if you're up for a chat,” he added, his embarrassment palpable.

“Well, I suppose we both have things to discuss,” you conceded, feeling remorse for the events of the previous night but determined to clarify things.

“May I come in?” he requested.

“Yes, of course,” you replied, ushering him inside. He handed you a cup of Colombian dark coffee, your favorite, with a simple "thank you" from you. The atmosphere was oddly civil, considering the circumstances. Though no words had been exchanged yet, it was evident that both of you had let your guard down for the first time.

“Where do we begin?” he asked, his eyes betraying traces of recent tears.

“From the very beginning, where we both feigned indifference and claimed it was merely a casual thing with no strings attached,” you responded, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

"Wow, that was sharp," he quipped with a shy smile.

"Oh no, I'm just trying to be nice, given the circumstances," you remarked ironically.

"Can we just skip this teenage back-and-forth?" he asked, a hint of seriousness in his tone this time.

"Of course, dear. You've done nothing wrong, so you can ask for whatever you want," you said, settling into one of the armchairs in front of him, struggling to contain your sarcasm.

"I'm serious. Let's act like the adults we are. I know I've messed things up, but you're not a saint either, okay?" His Aries pride sometimes grated on you, despite how much he cared.

"Fine my love" you said, unable to hide your sarcasm, a defense mechanism he hated. "You show up at my hotel room uninvited; bring me coffee like we’re all good right after; firstly, treat me like a piece of meat the last time we had sex..."

"I was drunk. I know that's not an excuse, but—"

"You will let me finish before you dare to speak," You were on the brink of losing your composure, and he on the other side kept silent as you continued. "You have no idea how terrible I felt that day, and I still feel actually. And secondly, making assumptions? How many times have I talked to you about my friendship with Colin? I've never questioned any of your friendships—except for Kate, of course, which had my reasons to, and you know it " you chuckled to yourself before growing serious. "I have no problem admitting my mistakes. I provoked you by calling you a friend, which I know upset you. But it all traces back to our last night together. You seemed distant, like I was pressuring you into something you didn’t want to. I don't want to force you to do anything. I understand you have your own struggles, but I want you to understand mine as well." He was paying attention to your words, tears welled up in your eyes as you added, "What the hell are you so afraid of, dude?"

He was silent, but it wasn’t like he was throwing a tantrum; it was more like a kind of desperation, a fear of saying something he felt he shouldn't. “Pedro, talk to me,” you asked firmly. “There is no right or wrong answer; I just want to understand you, and I want you to understand me.”

He finally faced you, it was clear that he was searching for strength to spit it out. He finally said: "I’m afraid that you'll also leave me someday," his voice quivered, his hand trembling. He was visibly anxious. "I said those things to hurt you before you hurt me... because every time things start to feel right between us, it feels too good to be true, you know? I feel, i don’t know…like I don’t deserve it. Throughout the years, whenever I felt it was the right time, everyone…just… they just… left. So why should things be different now?" He held back tears as he gazed at you. "I wanted to be the one to walk away, not the one left behind," he confessed, searching for the right words. "But I… I can… I can’t just walk away from you, and that terrifies me."

You could sense his struggle, and despite your own issues, you were willing to give it a chance to make things clear. Seeing how difficult it was for him to express himself, you decided to do as you had suggested to him earlier: listen.

He continued, "While I want to be close to you, I fear you'll be my downfall. And it fucking hurts baby, it really does hurt. It's not that you're like a bad person, it’s the complete opposite, you're so fucking amazing." Tears streamed down his face as he faced you. "It's a kind of paradox that I can't escape... and you're like a calm presence amidst this chaos. Somehow, I don’t know... You manage to navigate through it… Despite your own issues and fears, you remain unafraid. I wish I could be like that. So I wouldn’t fuck things up and—“ he started crying nonstop.

"Hey..." You rose from your chair, for the first time, witnessing his true and raw vulnerability, a rare sight compared to your usual dynamic. While he was typically uninhibited, you tended to be much more reserved. Kneeling in front of him, you gently grasped his trembling hands, urging him to trust you. "Pedro, please look at me," you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. "Please... just look at me."

"I never meant to hurt you the way I did yesterday. I don't know why I—" he said through sobs.

"Shh, don't speak. Just try to listen," you interrupted, wanting him to find peace. You sought calmness, knowing you handled emotions differently from him.

"I never thought I could feel these feelings ever again—you appeared out of nowhere and… and… disrupted everything I've spent years building." He said it through sobs.

"By that, you mean the walls you've put up around yourself?" You questioned calmly, meeting his gaze. He nodded, tears glistening in his eyes again. Gently caressing his face, you offered reassurance. "I can't judge you. Somehow, you've managed to break down the walls around me as well. Even though you're quite different from anyone I've been drawn to before, you know?"

"What do you mean?" he inquired, trying to understand your words.

"You’re different from everything I’ve experienced—you're a friend, a caring listener, kind, intelligent, humble, funny, a bit stubborn, someone who admires and respects others," you began, opening up. "You're like a ray of sunshine after a storm, embodying everything that I am not."

"But… Why are you saying this?" he pressed, his expression reflecting a mix of curiosity and emotion.

"Because I want to do things differently this time.” You needed to say this. “I’m tired, you know? Not tired of you, I mean, in life in general… I’ve always been the one who kept my needs stored in a little box, waiting for the right moment to show them, and there is no right moment, man…There's no need to waste time hiding our true intentions, no desire to inflict or endure unnecessary pain like we both did to each other," you confessed, laying bare your intentions. “By the way, I’ve spent thousands of dollars in therapy all these years; I must make them worthy,” you added, trying to lighten the mood.

You felt his body relax under your touch, his tension easing. Continuing to stroke his hair, you remarked softly, “I never thought you were this fearful, Pedro. I am afraid too—all of this is new to me… I don't want to lose you or even walk away. But we need to take this leap together; we'll never know unless we try.”

“But... but I really don’t know what to do,” he admitted.

“There's no magic formula here. We were great friends before; now, we've added kissing and sex—amazing sex, I must add,” you quipped, eliciting his first chuckle.

“The way you put it makes it sound so simple,” he observed, visibly lightening up.

“Because it is. We've been seeing each other for months now. Our mistake was pretending it was casual when, deep down, we both knew it wasn't,” you emphasized. As he nodded in agreement, you continued, “Right from the start, we were both scared, hiding behind a facade of indifference like ‘oh cool, I like having sex and spending time with you’. —I care about us, about being with you, the real you. You can be honest with me, Pedro.” You needed to hear this from him. “Do you feel the same way?.”

�� I do. I want to be with you.” He said it once again, trying to find the right words. “You are everything that I always wanted. You are fuckin brave, fearless, wise, and a strong leader with a compassionate heart. You care for people’s wellness, command respect while remaining approachable,sexy as fuck…” You laughed at the small detail. “And you make me feel safer whenever I'm with you—sometimes I wish we had met before," he declared, now cupping your face in his hands.

"Things happen when they're meant to happen, Pedro. Remember how we first met in person? The fucking disaster," you remarked, chuckling softly as you held his hand that cradled your face. "Game of Thrones guy," you added with a smile.

“You should’ve seen your face the moment you saw me,” he chuckled. "Who would have imagined that nearly a year later, we'd be having this conversation?" he pondered.

"Definitely not me," you laughed.

Remaining in your shared moment, you both locked eyes for a few seconds. The tears had dried, and the silence was eventually broken by his whisper, "I'm sorry for everything I’ve done to you. I was an asshole—"

"It was a series of missteps from both sides," you murmured back, drawing closer to him. He instinctively drew you nearer, allowing your breaths to mingle. "Do you want to give us a chance? To try and make things right." Your voice was a gentle caress, melting into the air.

"I do, baby. I really do," he affirmed, cupping your face as he leaned in to kiss you tenderly. The weightlessness you felt after sharing your emotions made this kiss unlike any other; it wasn't a band-aid for past fights but a kiss brimming with genuine emotion. The way he held your face while you grasped his hand, the delicate touch as he guided you to sit on his lap. "I've missed you," he confessed, gazing into your eyes as his hands traced a path from your shoulders to your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.

"I've missed you too," you murmured between kisses. "Well, I mainly missed your body a bit more, if you catch my drift," you teased.

"Are you going to bring that up every time now?" he chuckled, drawing you closer. "I know, that was terrible. I’m sorry."

"Oh, you bet I won’t forget this easily," you agreed playfully.

"Baby?"

"What is it?" You said.

"Don't you think the bed would be more comfortable?" You could feel him on you, so you knew exactly what he meant.

"Yeah, I think... I will start to have cramps in a minute too, I can feel it," you joked.

"And you're the younger one here," he retorted.

"Well, we both know I’m far from young, but at least my back is holding up well," you bantered.

"Fuck you," he countered, lifting you up as he stood to take you to the bed.

"Actually, it's you who's supposed to fu—"

Before you could finish, he silenced you with a kiss. "I'll take care of that," he assured, his lips grazing your neck before returning to yours. "And I'll take my time until you're begging for more," he promised, his laughter mingling with yours. “As you aaaalways do,” he added.

“I like the idea,” you answered, as he now had your shirt lifted and was tracing kisses all over your sternum. As your fingers ran through his hair, he came back to kiss you.

"Baby,” he said, hesitant as you just hummed in response. He then continued looking into your eyes and asked, “Are we like a ‘we’, like me and you?”

"Yes, we are baby,” you said, smiling. "Yes, we are.”

“I’m not saying that just to say, ok?”

“Okay”

“But I want you to know that i…well… i kind of... I… I mean….” he struggled to find the word.

"I love you too," you giggled. "And can you believe I'm the hedgehog here?"

"You're totally a hedgehog; there's no doubt about it, even after all this time," he grinned. "And you, well, you're a real firecracker." He playfully traced your lips with his fingers, making you grin back at him.

"Te amo," he said, hugging you close as you gave him a soft kiss. It was the first time you both felt a new kind of connection, like finding a comfy spot, just like home, that felt just right. After all this time, something you both tried to find was already there, it just took some time for you to see.

Love wasn't just a word for passion; it was a mix of little things that went beyond the butterflies and excitement of seeing each other. These were things you both naturally did even when you were just friends, and it felt pretty amazing.

“And I thank you for bringing me here

For showing me home, for singing these tears

Finally, I've found that I belong here”

[eledsart]

mr and ms movingcastle 😵‍💫♡

prints here!!

[cowardlykrow]

Despite herself, the Emma is wooed

[inquisitor-apologist]

The only reason Zare Leonis and Ketsu Onyo weren’t recurring characters was because their dynamic with Ezra and Sabine was SO gay they couldn’t have hidden it.

[the-sky-the-stars-the-sea]

This. Just. This.

“Are you bored?” - a genuine question

“I’m not.” - a lie

The one asking “are you bored?” is the one who is pitying the other. The other lies and says they are not bored because they have waited for this moment for so long, and maybe if they say they’re happy then they will be, because isn’t this everything they ever wanted? Even if deep down they know this is all an illusion?

And this is why neither of these ships are endgame.

Meanwhile:

So yeah. Mhokday and Sandray are endgame.

Because it’s first crush vs someone you love who actually loves you the way you want to be loved.

So of course it’s the latter one that wins in the long run.

[seagull-scribbles]

Tag, your it for @naivesilver

[carpetbug]

woahh hophhaoh hooo wow. thinking about loveybug and adrien. her geeking out over her ‘celebrity crush’ when she runs into him. she would be just non stop flirting with him and adriens thinking ‘oh my god why does every ladybug holder have to be such a beautiful girl and i really REALLY want her to kiss me’ and trying to kind of hide the catwalker side of himself from her so he kind of returns the flirts a bit and she. loses it.