#not that i wouldn't even if i wasn't thinking about them for once

[pippin-katz]

Why Did Charles Keep Asking About Edwin's Conversation With The Cat King?

I was reading a fic where Edwin agrees to the Cat King's initial offer, but because time passes differently in whatever room that is, he's gone for six weeks even though it was a couple hours for him, and it got me thinking. I worked out why Charles was so pushy about that conversation.

Charles and Edwin have been together for 30 years. The way they act gives me the feeling that they spent very little time apart, and wherever one went, the other went too. In the fic, Edwin's inner monologue refers to it as "shared memories"; they experience everything together.

But now, there's this.

Edwin disappeared for hours on Charles' side of things. He had this conversation with a magical being, a stranger that sets off warning bells in Charles' head. He came back with a magical bracelet that trapped him in Port Townsend, that he couldn't remove, and something about his behavior was off.

Charles is not stupid or oblivious. He reads Edwin like a book, albeit with blurry text. He knows something is not quite right, but doesn't know what. And he knows it's because of whatever happened in the few hours that he wasn't with him.

For what is likely the first time in 30 years, Edwin has experienced/done something significant without him. Charles is in the dark; he wasn't there to see or hear what happened for himself. All he has to go on is what Edwin tells him, and he gets the immediate feeling that he's not saying everything.

When talking about it in front of Crystal, he just asks if he said anything else, but once they're alone in their office, he's direct.

Charles is absolutely (and correctly) sure that Edwin hasn't told him the real/full truth about his meeting with the Cat King, and tells him as much.

The way he asks feels... calm? Crystal's not there, they're alone, they're in their safe space, why wouldn't Edwin tell him? He probably thinks he would, but obviously, he doesn't. He lets a detail slip that confuses and concerns him even more; the Cat King whispering in his ear. That confirms very close proximity between them, something that's potentially dangerous and something he knows Edwin doesn't particularly like, and Charles is just... lost, uncomfortable, and frustrated.

Can you imagine how maddening that must have been? To not know what really happened? To only have vague descriptions of the events from his friend? To see and know that something is wrong with him, but being unable to truly help because he's clueless as to what the actual problem is?

It's highly likely that this is the first time Charles has ever encountered this.

As Edwin says, he's "fixated" on this. It's like there's a page missing in his copy of the script of events. He's never had to worry about it before; he was always there with him. Edwin says it's not a big deal, but Charles can't make that call himself. It's not that he doesn't trust Edwin; it's his protectiveness of him. He wants to see and assess the situation for himself. He wants to be positive there's no danger, that it meets his standards. He needs to know everything about where Edwin is, what he's doing, who he's with, at all times, so he can be ready to protect him.

As Jayden put it, Charles has given himself the mantle of Edwin's guardian. Edwin dedicates all his time and energy into helping others, to the point of neglecting himself. In response, Charles dedicates himself to Edwin. If he won't take care of himself, if no one else is going to help him, Charles will. As he says in Hell when he's rescuing Edwin, "Someone's gotta do it."

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this essay & would like to support me, you can give me a tip on my Ko-Fi! ☺️

[satoruluvies]

𝐒𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐄 — geto suguru

implied fem!reader, angst.

connected with this but can be read as a standalone.

months of planning and strategising lead suguru to this moment: standing in front of his former best friend, doing something he never imagined he would do—declaring war against him and every boulder that shaped him.

but for a split second, he reverts back to his younger self. suguru leans closer to the tall blindfolded man, with crescent moon shaped eyes and a soft smile "so tell me satoru, how's-"

your name stops short before it leaves his mouth. it had been so long since he last said it, it felt foreign and unnatural. it used to roll off his tongue so naturally. suguru sighs.

"how's your family?" suguru intended to make it sound like a threat, that he could potentially harm you but his heart sinks a little when his voice become softer than he intended. he knows satoru noticed.

"i don't think that's any of your business." of course satoru wouldn't tell him. he chose his ideals before you so it was only right that he wasn't allowed to know anything about you anymore.

suguru wasn't worried though, he knows satoru loves you and that he was more than enough to protect you. under satoru's wings, you were safe. safer than being with him.

"of course" suguru chuckles but there was no humour in it. before he could even think of anything else to say, he hears an all too familiar voice. one he always yearned to hear say his name again, even just once more.

"...s-suguru?" there you were with wide eyes staring at him as if you can't believe he was there, still looking as beautiful as the day he lost you, if not more.

surguru hesitates; something he always does when you're involved. he doesn't like how you still affect him. he doesn't like how he finds himself wanting to run into your arms. he doesn't like how he still loves you despite everything else.

eventually he tears his gaze away from your own only to focus them on the unfamiliar little girl that held onto you, hiding her small frame behind yours.

her purple eyes and stark raven black hair reminds him of himself.

ʚ.ɞ tags <3 : @reosnagi @empresslazingway @megumisthirdog

[mt-oe]

I love ur workkkk 🥺🥺 … my heart melted

Can I request a mizu x reader in which reader was upset with mizu , and mizu trying to make reader feel happy with her ( I know I worded it poorly 😭😔. English is not my first language 😔). this can be sfw or nsfw. u write the spiciest nsfw stuff 😉

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dear!

Thank you so much for requesting! I'm so sorry if this was WAY overdue. I'll try to make up for it by writing as best as I can <3

Also, please don't think too much about how you worded it. Trying to communicate your ideas, regardless of how you worded it, is already enough.

On an unrelated note, I am temporarily closing my inbox so I can catch up on requests. I wouldn't want to rush since that might compromise the quality of the fics. I deeply appreciate the messages and comments and would really like to answer them but I'm still too shy ;; I promise I'm really trying. Please don't get mad or disappointed in me. Thank you for understanding!

Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa :*

warning/s: not proofread, she/her for mizu, implied afab reader

Mizu has done a lot of things before. Her sword has known the blood of many, cut through numerous organs, and had seen death like it was the next door neighbor. The fights she had fought were more ferocious than what most warriors could stomach. With a will of steel and the mind of a tactician, a capable swordsman she truly was. But...

How the hell was she going to get through this one?

Cerulean orbs narrowed as she watched you, or more precisely, your back. Her gaze roaming from the tips of your hair to the way your back slumped. Your huffs and whispered grumbles were the only sound that could be heard from the room.

She could feel her palms sweating and her fingers running cold. Not a single coherent thought formed in her brain from how unnerving the situation was. For the first time in her life, she was faced with an opponent she did not know how to defeat.

And this opponent was strong. Not even the swing of her sword or the strength of her hands could quell the wrath and sheer rage of this enemy. Mizu knew she had to plan her next move well or this could cost her everything.

And this opponent...was her wife's anger.

Yes, the ronin who quite literally bit someone's nose, survived a fall from several stories high, burned down Edo, was utterly helpless under her lover's wrath.

"I said I was sorry. What else do I have to do?" she asked, placing a hand on your shoulder, trying to pull you to face her. A groan of frustration boiled at her throat as you shrugged her hand off harshly. "I said I was sorry. What else do I have to do?" you mocked her, imitating her low voice before sticking your tongue. "Go figure it out yourself! Hmph!"

This was so stupid, she thought. But despite the words in her head, she was utterly lost.

All this drama just because she missed a kabuki show that you wanted to watch?

Sure, you had told her ahead of time. Sure, you already planned it out. Sure, you were already at the venue. But it was just a goddamn stage play, what were you so upset about? There would be another show next week with the same story anyway, and if you were so excited to watch, you could have watched it without her.

So what was the big deal about it?

She rolled her eyes before standing up, looking at you in resignation. "Fine, sulk," she grumbled in response, to which you stuck your tongue out. She rolled her eyes once again before strapping her sword to her waist. "Talk when you're no longer acting like a brat." And with those words, she left, slamming the door and causing it to bounce open slightly.

Upon hearing her footsteps fading, you immediately let out a loud sigh. You turned to look at the spot where your lover had previously sat on with a sense of hurt. "But I wanted to go on a date..." you whispered to yourself, throat tightening.

This was one of those moments where you really just had to say, 'it is what it is', and pretend to not get hurt.

You knew Mizu wasn't the most romantic person on the planet. Hell, it was even a surprise that she asked you out. However, there were times when you wished you could open her head and shove some cheesy romance novels, because how the fuck did she not get that you were asking her out on a date?

Urgh.

"What am I even expecting?" you asked yourself out loud, bringing the tickets you had bought for both of you. Tickets that were wasted just because she thought training and buying supplies were more important than spending 4 hours watching a play in a theater with her wife. "Maybe next time I'll just watch her train."

You love her. Of course you did. And you knew she loves you too, but sometimes her inability to understand or express romance made you question it.

Slowly and painfully, you tore up the tickets and fed it to the candle flame, watching as it turned to ashes. Welp. There goes your idea of a romantic evening. "And I planned it for so long too," you sighed as you brought your knees to your chest.

Unbeknown to you, your wife had secretly sneaked back, sitting beside the small door crack she had intentionally made earlier. A small frown on her face as she realized how much she fucked up.

You were right.

You did plan it for a long time. She could see your eyes widen every time the two of you passed by the theatre whenever you went out for supplies, filled with excitement that she couldn't understand then. And you already told her early, so it wasn't like it was out of the schedule or out of the way. Most of all, you were already at the venue.

You were waiting for this for such a long time.

You were waiting for her for such a long time.

And she wasted your efforts. She somehow thought that what you were so eager for was something she could trade for a few hours of extra training.

Guilt welled up in her as she continued to listen to your sighs, peeking inside the room every now and then to make sure you were okay. Her heart clenched in an odd, unfamiliar, yet extremely uncomfortable way at the sight of your frown.

Damnit. Mizu knew she messed up big time. However, even if she felt absolutely terrible, she also knew she couldn't just come back in and reveal that she had just watched you go through five stages of grief in less than an hour or else you'd feel like you forced her to apologize. But how could she make up for this?

As she was deep in thought, thinking of ways on how she could apologize, she suddenly heard the soft padding sound of your feet on the tatami mat as you stood up. "I guess I'll take a nap. Maybe I'll feel better when I wake up," she heard you sigh for the umpteenth time.

Her eyes watched you stretch before pulling the futon out of the closet and set it up. Your hands carefully undid the pins stuck to your hair before laying down, pulling the covers over you, the frown you wore never dissipating.

She could feel her conscience weighing down on her, telling her what a dense idiot she was. The feeling hitting her like a ton of bricks as she watched you slowly fall asleep with a heavy heart.

No, she wasn't going to let your day go on like this. If she fucked up, she's fixing it up.

Slowly and carefully, she got up and sneaked away, leaving the inn and going to the market. No matter how unexperienced or how unknowledgeable she was with how to comfort a person, Mizu was going to try her best.

-

Hours passed and the short nap you had planned turned into one of the longest one you've had yet. It wasn't a pleasant one, but it wasn't the worst either. Your eyes slowly fluttered open before squinting at the faint glow of the candle. The world felt slightly heavy and tilted as your head spu—wait? The candle?

"Oh shit," you whispered, shooting up and looking around in panic, head still spinning from grogginess. Oh no, you forgot to blow out the candle before your nap and accidentally kept it burning. Mizu was going to pissed at you, especially since it was the last one.

But wait—

Shouldn't it have burnt out already?

You brought the back of your hand to your eyes, rubbing away the sleep and grogginess to have a better look around. However, upon looking up, surprise took over your senses.

The room was...decorated?

Or at least there was an attempt.

At a distance from the foot of your futon sat your lover with a wooden crate in front of her. A bit of relief washed over your body as you realized that she had taken care of the candle for you, but still, you were heavily confused. "Mizu...what's going on?" you asked, yawning a bit.

She looked at you with the same emotionless stare she had before sighing. Her hands slowly turned the crate around so the opening was facing you. It was decorated too, and even if it was poorly recreated, you could recognize the setting. It was very similar to the kabuki theater you wanted to go to.

From her back, she brought out two dolls. One wearing a kimono in a color similar to what you were wearing, and one male doll that looked like a samurai. A heavy exhale could be heard coming from her as the embarrassment started kicking in. Was she really going to do this? Yes, yes she was.

Clearing her throat, she moved the dolls to the makeshift stage as she began her narration. "Once upon a time, in a small village, stayed a ronin and her wife." She glances momentarily at you before looking down again, a faint dust of blush on her cheeks. "Her very beautiful wife," she clarified.

Your eyes widened with a mix of delight and surprise. The grogginess from your sleep wore off at the sweetness of your lover's effort. You couldn't believe it. It was a stage play. A stage play about the two of you.

Her hands moved the dolls on stage, making them hold hands as she narrated the events in the story. "But one day, the ronin, being very foolish, decided to go up in the mountains and train instead of accompanying her wife," she said, dolls moving to match her words.

"And her wife..." she continued, moving your doll to look like it was sulking, "...got very upset." Blue eyes looked at you once again to check if you were still watching. You could tell that she was being very sincere about this.

"Not knowing what to do, the ronin went out to think and realized that she was indeed wrong and had been inconsiderate, that her wife was really just trying to bond and spend time in merriment."

She slowly set the dolls down and readjusted, sitting up straight before bowing her head slightly. "And so, the ronin apologized," she said with all seriousness. "I'm sorry, love. I knew you wanted to go out for so long. I should have appreciated your efforts more. I have no excuses."

Silence embraced the room after, completely amplifying the pounding of her heart as she awaited your response. Jitters ran through her body from nervousness. Mizu didn't dare look up, not until you gave her a response.

Seconds felt like minutes as she waited. An unexplainable kind of anxiety holding over her. What if you didn't like the little show she put? What if she just made your anger worse? Her thoughts were scattering by the millisecond. She wanted nothing more than for you to forgive her.

Her heart stopped as she saw your hands reach for the dolls, looking over them before making your doll face her doll.

"And the wife accepted the apology," you giggled, bending your dolls head slightly so it would kiss the representing her. Before she could speak, she felt your lips on her cheek. The sweet sound of your laughter soon followed, making her blush.

You lifted the dolls up to eye level and looked at them fondly. "You really went out and beyond, didn't you?" you laughed, wiggling them around in some form of cuteness aggression. She lifted her head and smiled softly. "I didn't know what to do," she admitted, finding your fondness for the dolls adorable. "And I really wanted to go back to my wife."

"You could have just said sorry, dummy. But.." your voice trailed off, eyes looking back at your wife's, leaning closer to her. "This made me unbelievably happy," you admitted. "Thank you, love."

Your wife's smile widened as you leaned in and kissed her softly. Her hands instinctively pulling you closer. Love and affection radiated from her as both of you pulled away, gazing lovingly into each other's eyes. Her breath hitched as you opened your mouth, anticipation building up regarding what you were going to say.

"But next time you do that, you're sleeping without a futon."

"Yes ma'am"

[diazsdimples]

"You're the only person I could even fathom doing this for" + Buddie

"You're the only person I could even fathom doing this for," Eddie grouses as he and Buck weave their way through the crowd, heading towards the meetup point near the starting line.

There are ten other teams (couples? Eddie's never entirely sure what to call them) also milling around, waiting to be called up. Among them are what feels like hundreds of crew members, camera people, health and safety coordinators, you name it.

Buck nudges Eddie's shoulder with his as they walk. "And can I just once again reiterate how grateful I am that you agreed to come. I could have asked Hen or Chim, but I don't think they would have been so keen."

Eddie snorts. "Hen and Chim would have walked off before you even finished the first leg." He hoists the overly large backpack up his shoulders, swinging it around to do a last-minute check that they've got everything they need.

"They just can't keep up with my boundless enthusiasm," Buck replies airily. He grins down at Eddie. "It's not their fault, I suppose. You're just the only person I know who's got a chance at keeping up with me."

"Yeah well, I did say I'd have your back." Eddie puts on a show of sighing loudly, but there's no hiding the grin that's pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I probably should have seen this coming."

Buck stops, causing a crew member to dodge him and shoot him a dirty look. He remains oblivious to this as he regards Eddie with amusement.

"You should have anticipated 7 years ago, when you said you'd have my back, that I'd sweet talk you into coming onto a reality TV show with me?"

"Yep. Exactly that. Silly of me, really."

Buck laughs, a bright sound that makes something in Eddie's chest warm. Buck's smile is a beautiful thing to behold and Eddie can't help but grin right back.

"You're ridiculous," Buck chuckles, falling into step beside Eddie once again as they make their way over to the tent where the other racers are waiting.

When Buck had approached Eddie with the idea of applying for the Amazing Race USA, it had initially seemed like a harmless joke, a "yeah we should totally do that," without any real intention of actually applying.

And then Buck had shown up at his house with a tape recorder and a grin, and had begged and begged and begged for them to record a clip to send in. Had it not been for Christopher's puppy eyes ("please Dad, I'll be the coolest kid in school!") Eddie probably wouldn't have gone through with it. But Buck knew Eddie's weakness (his son) and boy had he weaponised him.

They sent in the tape the next day within a week had received a callback, and now here they were, several weeks and one somewhat awkward conversation with Bobby about why he'd be losing two of his firefighters for a month later, wondering how exactly they managed to push past all the other people applying.

Eddie wasn't one to turn down the opportunity to win a million dollars, not that that amount of money went particularly far in this economy. As he'd joked to Buck, if they won he'd use his share of the money to pay off Christopher's student loans, and then buy himself an ice cream with the leftover cash.

Also, he'd get to travel the world with Buck, which was a huge selling point. Eddie knows he's whipped when it comes to Buck. The idea of travelling with him, seeing the world, competing against others, being at their peak BuckandEddie, it would have been too good to pass up.

They finally reach the tent where the rest of the racers are, and are immediately swooped on by a hoard of crew members, checking over them, making sure they're mic'd up, general TV show admin, Eddie assumes.

"No turning back now, huh," Buck comments, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible. Eddie, however, can see right through him. He hears the slight quaver in Buck's voice, notices the way Buck doesn't quite meet his eye, how Buck's eyes are flickering around him as though on high alert.

"Hey," he says as he places a hand on Buck's shoulder, his thumb brushing against Buck's pulse point. "We're going to be okay. It's going to be fun! Just breathe, okay?"

Buck takes in a deep breath, his shoulders rising and pressing against Eddie's hand before releasing it. Eddie rubs his thumb back and forth over Buck's neck, giving him the smallest of squeezes.

"Right," Buck nods, his mouth quirking into a half smile. "Just us versus the world, huh?"

Eddie returns his smile with an easy grin, and he has to resist the urge to lean over and press a gentle kiss to Buck's cheek. "You and me, and 11 countries. We've got this."

There's a loud foghorn noise, signalling the teams to line up at the starting line, facing the host. Eddie's hand moves to cup Buck's cheek, patting him once, twice, before dropping down to his side. Buck flushes a beautiful pink and together they make their way to the line, ready to begin the adventure of a lifetime.

Gonna tag some friends who might be interested.

@theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @daffi-990 @bidisasterevankinard @neverevan

@spotsandsocks @aroeddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @watchyourbuck

[bagely]

IT'S 4AM AND I WANT TO FEEL YOU

they gay and shit

The light entered the room hitting the face of the half-awake Missa on the bed, who squeezing his eyes and yawning gave the alert to his husband who entered the room and had woken up a few minutes ago.

Philza sat up in bed grabbing Missa by the cheeks and caressing his face, to which Missa unmoving with closed eyes accepting the affection.

"You leave" Missa said.

Bringing his hands now up to his husband's hair , philza smiled tiredly "Chay called me."

"Oh, is he okay?"

"Yeah, his floatie deflated."

"What?" missa seemed to snap out of a trance and his eyes widened.

"I sort of suspect lullah" Said Philza serene at the matter, and more concerned about the silkiness of his husband's hair.

"His own sister" Missa spoke in a dramatic tone "So young, and on the wrong path..." removing Philza's hands from his hair as it was beginning to bother him.

A disappointed grimace appeared on Philza's face as he was interrupted in his petting "It's a murder we'll solve tomorrow," he reached for Missa's hand again interlacing his fingers "and you? Why did you wake up? Bad dream?"

Missa surrendered to his insistence moved closer to him and leaned his head against his neck. He clicked his tongue as he remembered his dream "My first death."

"Your only death." Philza corrected him gently.

A silence formed, perhaps because of how overwhelming the subject matter was for Missa or the fact that his body wanted to succumb to sleep more and more strongly every minute.

"I'm exhausted." Missa replied, finally beginning to stroke Phil's hands returning some of his affection.

"It's 4 o'clock in the morning I wouldn't expect more."

Missa lifted his head willing him to lie down once more and as they parted they stood for a moment looking at each other. The light was lacking but still Missa felt Phil's eyes sparkle. "Give me a kiss" Missa said in a soft tone.

"Weren't you sleepy?" Philza asked, in a tone that bordered on suggestive and carefree.He grabbed Missa's neck, Together their faces giving each other a little smack on the forehead.

"Don't go around thinking cochinadas."

Philza stopped a giggle inside, even in that darkness holding him so close he could see her ears turn red. "I'm not thinking about anything."

"I want a ring." Missa said, the play between their hands still going on.

"Really?"

"You never gave me one."

"You hadn't asked for it." Philza replied.

Missa pulled away, holding his gaze on him "I ask you for something and you'll just give it to me?" Philza nodded immediately at what he had said with a goofy grin "I want... a castle in the stars."

"When I get to them I'll make you one there." Phil replied dropping down on the bed.

Missa followed him, positioning himself on his abdomen or a little higher and giving him kisses on the cheeks. There was zero response from philza to this, he simply moved his feet so that every part of both of their bodies were touching each other

"You're tired too.." Missa commented stopping their kisses, as if he had just realized something.

A tired chuckle came from Philza. Missa could feel his chest rise when it came. "We have two children I'm always tired."

"Then sleep."

"You sleep first."

Missa interlocking his hands again, he felt strange being now the one who was trying to get attention " sometimes he asked me.." He paused as if he had started talking without knowing how to finish the sentences. " if... maybe reality is a dream."

"That would be sad, I can't imagine without you guys. Without you." Philza replied, Missa could feel each of his heartbeats act faster as he said that whole sentence.

Missa could feel himself blushing even though it wasn't something new to know, maybe it was the time and the dream that intoxicated them, and made it feel like that was the first time he heard things like that from his husband " Mi alma, your soul."

"What's that?"

"It seemed appropriate." Missa replied.

"Go to sleep." Philza replied, moving over and dropping Missa to the side of the bed. They were still quite close though and their hands were still clasped together.

Missa wondered for a second, until he remembered his most important piece of information "Are you blushing? You always blush if I speak Spanish" He said, and to test his theory by bringing his hands close to him, and bringing his face close to his separated by their noses.

"Not true." Philza immediately replied.

"It's wrong to lie to your husband." Missa joked.

"Shut up." Replied Philza, releasing his grip.

"Uh?" Missa started to move away.

Philza proceeded to gently grab Missa's neck to pull him up to him. Imparting a kiss to him, with a force almost measured in his own tiredness. Slow just like the morning that seemed to take ages to appear. When they parted they stood with foreheads pressed together and noses brushing "Didn't you want a kiss?"

"You blushed." Missa replied.

"I'll get your ring for you tomorrow, sleep."

Missa nodded, though he doubted if Phil had seen it. Snuggling almost on top of his husband, he eventually gave in to sleep.

[animebw]

Over-Analyzing the Kumirei Make-Up Hug Because I've Lost All Control

Well, it's official. These two have broken my brain a little. I've had this hug rattling around inside my head this whole week. I've been re-watching it, obsessing over it, spending way too much time thinking about it, and I need to get those thoughts out before I go insane from overexposure. So, okay. This is my extensive breakdown of that one scene from Hibike Euphonium Season 3 Episode 11 where Kumiko and Reina hug and why it's so wonderful.

First things first, we need some context. The scene right before this one is Reina revealing she's going to study music in America. As she and Kumiko ride home on the train, Reina pushes Kumiko to see if she's made up her own mind re:going to music school or not. And while Kumiko doesn't say one way or the other, her non-committal response suggests she already knows deep down it's not in the cards for her, and she just needs that push from Mizore later in the episode to come to terms with it.

Keep in mind, they still haven't made up yet. This is the first conversation we've seen them have since the break-up that isn't a huge argument. As far as Reina knows, Kumiko's still angry about the way she treated her while they were fighting. And as we'll find out later on, she's planning to cut off their relationship forever if they're not both going to music school. So seeing Kumiko pretty clearly indicate that she's not going to follow her footsteps, she realizes there's a very real chance that this argument will be the last thing between them before she says goodbye.

Which is why this is the moment she finally apologizes. Because suddenly, the stakes of not speaking up while she still can are very, very real. Imagine what must be going through her head right now. What if this ends with Kumiko still hating me for being so horrible to her? What if it's too late to make things right? What if this precious, irreplacable thing we have is already broken and it's all my fault? If she's going to apologize, it has to be now while she still has time, while there's still a chance of making things right before the bonds between them snap forever.

But of course, Kumiko being Kumiko, she doesn't hesitate to defuse every last scrap of tension between them with her sarcastic complaining here. Because while her tendency to play peacekeeper has gotten her in trouble this season, her ability to believe in the best of people has always been her greatest strength. And as colossal a pain as Reina has been, well, if Reina wasn't such an extreme personality, she wouldn't be standing here in the first place. She loves Reina. She trusts Reina. And right now, she believes in what they have way too much to let this push them apart.

Which brings us at last to the hug itself, which is pretty much a microcosm of the whole separation anxiety conflict playing out between them this season. Reina's scared of losing her and wants to make it right while she still can. But for Kumiko, that was never even in question. In a strange way, she takes this whole conflict both more seriously and less seriously than Reina. Less seriously because she's able to brush it off so easily, more seriously because that's just how much she believes in their love.

I also want to highlight Chika Anzai's delivery of this little "What?" She sounds so genuinely shocked and flustered, like she's realizing how strong and secure Kumiko's feelings for her are and doesn't know how to deal with it and it's so cute god dammit.

But she's still scared. She still can't shake the fear of losing her beloved. So Kumiko has to take the lead, ushering her into her embrace and squeezing her as tight as she possibly can until Reina finds the courage to lift her own arms up.

And once again, Kumiko handles it by being very silly in a way that only makes her sincerity bleed through all the stronger, making funny noises as if to vocalize how tight she's hugging Reina. Leaning into her natural goofball tendencies to defuse the tension, because Reina's a girl who takes everything way too damn seriously, and every once in a while she needs a reminder that it's okay to breathe, you know?

But it's this little moment that really puts it over the top for me. Reina's expression, the way she nuzzles into Kumiko, the shaky, trembling breath we hear her inhale... she was fucking terrified of losing her. In her mind, there was a very real chance they'd never make up and Kumiko would spend the rest of her life hating her. But instead, Kumiko essentially told her, through her attitude and actions, that there was never any chance of that. And she clings to her girl with all her strength as if to convince herself that this is real, that Kumiko's really in her arms right now, that she didn't mess everything up, that they're actually going to be okay... god, this moment's so fucking good.

And at last, she opens her eyes, her fears banished, overwhelmed with happiness and relief...

...which, of course, is perfectly reflected in Kumiko's eyes.

Long story short, this hug is essentially Kumiko telling Reina through actions what she'll finally be able to put into words after Mizore's concert: we won't change. Even apart, we'll stay forever special. So have a little faith in me, just like I have faith in you. It even parallels the overall structure of that later scene: Reina comes in with heavy emotional stakes, afraid that they're going to lose each other, but Kumiko defuses the tension by being a goofball, and through that silliness shows Reina how much faith she has in their relationship that she's able to joke around even at such a difficult moment. When they first met, it was Reina's passion and drive that swept Kumiko away; now, it's Kumiko's turn to pull Reina along, setting the pace of their relationship for the first time as she proves her devotion to the girl she loves.

(Which is also paralleled by the crosswalk scenes because in season 1 the crosswalk was where Reina first really swept Kumiko away whereas now it's a place where Kumiko's the one pushing Reina along into the future and god I'm so fucking PROUD OF HER LOOK AT HOW FAR SHE'S COME)

[anxious-witch]

I am actually kinda insane over how similar Crystal and Edwin are in some things, and that's why they don't get along at first, because how can you like someone who is reflecting everything you hate about yourself?

I wonder if Edwin ever thought about how his life would have gone if he lived. Sure, he wouldn't have been tortured in hell, but I can't really imagine his life being great, given he was a gay man in 1900s. If the ritual failed or if there was no ritual at all, he still would have gotten bullied by Simon and the other boys. We don't know anything about his family, but I think we can safely say it wasn't a very loving, affectionate one. If Edwin lived, burdened by small, everyday injustices and pains of life, would he have grown cruel? Spiteful? Bitter?

I am not saying torture in hell for over 70 years was in any way easy, but I think that it was so severe-too severe, given Edwin didn't do anything-for Edwin to ever accept he deserved it, despite his shame around his sexuality.

But if he lived his entire life in shame? Even if he did everything right, got a wife, had kids, he would have to be aware of being gay at some point. If there was no Charles to show him a true goodness he and in turn, other people were capable of. If he lived long enough I wonder if he would have turned to similar copying mechanism as Crystal. Hurting people in the way he had been hurt.

As for Crystal, we saw she was capable of the change once she forgot the hurt she endured and when she had Charles and Edwin. There is something very tragic that for both her and Edwin, it was a demon that made them suffer disproportionately, but that ultimately led them to want to help people because of it.

Idk just. I need more of them bonding and understanding each other in S2. I need Crystal to be broken over how mean she was before she lost her memories, and I need Edwin to empathize. Because as much as I think Charles is wonderful and he would try his best to support her, I think he copes in very different ways.

Like yes, he lashes out physically, but he only loses his temper when there is an actual danger or his friends are threaten.

What Crystal and Edwin do is lash out at the chance of being threatened, to destroy the threat before it happens, and sometimes they are wrong about what is a threat. And I need them so badly to bond over it. Please?

[shootingcookielover]

Villain!Donald One-Shot

Alrightttt because ppl really like the donald duck villain au...

Have a one-shot. As a treat! (I'm not promising more bc my trackrecord of finishing long-form fics is. Zero. But hey, if u like... Feel free to play around w the idea urself! Tag me in that though, i wanna read it, too xD)

Somehow, Donald had thought the days would feel more... Profound than this. That there would be an invisible weight off his shoulders, that the rage and resentment would have finally, finally cut off. Released, now that he was no longer affiliated with... Everything.

But he felt pretty much the same as he always had - bar the inevitable exhaustion of raising three children as a single parent. Uncle.

Luckily they were asleep for now, down for the night. Louie and Huey had, as always, been the easiest to put down.

How could anyone, anyone look at children - these soft, small, terribly fragile creatures and... Deem them fit for adventuring? For fighting off ancient curses and monsters and the undead?

His own childhood memories sat heavily in his mind, that old, familiar prickle of fear and adrenaline running through his system for a moment.

He shook his head, eyes moving downward to the pile of bills laid out before him. A couple newspapers were spread beside them, all open to show off whatever jobs were available right now.

Most of them had already been crossed out by him, the red crayon he'd used for it still rested in his hands. The color had started staining his feathers a little, not that he particularly minded. His shirt was equally stained, he wasn't sure he actually still had a clean one anywhere on the boat.

The boat he could only just afford with the help of the state, with the help of what little financial aid it offered for single parents. An aid, of course, heavily supplemented by one Scrooge McDuck. Living off of it made Donald feel like gritting his teeth. Like breaking something.

Not that he would. He couldn't risk waking the boys. Or breaking something important he wouldn't have the money to replace.

His head thunked face-first into the tabletop, beak squished against papers. A despondent sigh left him.

Money, it always came back to the money, didn't it? His uncle's adventures had also always cricled back around to that singular goal, no matter how much he'd claimed it was about "scientific discovery" or "archiological finds".

And Della had always eaten it up. Had strived to find the most exciting, mystical artefact, not realizing that Scrooge probably would have just ended up selling it to some schmuck.

Maybe, Donald thought, he could break into the Money Bin and just take some of that money. Certainly, once his uncle realized it was him, he would be left off the hook. What, with how they'd parted ways, with how Scrooge had insisted upon being "family".

Then again, family had always ended where the money began.

Donald balled his hand into a fist and finally raised his head from the table again. He plopped his face into his hand, staring sightlessly down at the papers he'd collected.

Even if he could manage to land a job anytime in the near future, he still needed a babysitter or a daycare of some kind. Someone to take care of the kids while he wasn't here.

The mere thought of leaving the boys with somebody else nearly left him breathless with worry. Enough so that he abruptly abandoned his seat and walked through the tiny "living room" area of the houseboat to his room. Their room.

(He'd seen the kind of terrors this world was home to, had fought them himself, even. Anyone of them making their way inside, closing in on the children - he didn't want to even think about it.)

He opened the door, silently as he could, just enough to peek his head inside. He had a baby monitor, of course, charged and ready to use on his table, but that wasn't enough.

He needed visual confirmation.

And there they were, in that crib that Donald had cobbled together, while the boys had been just in his eyesight, playing with toys.

All three were snuggled into their blanket, eyes closed, breathing calmly and only occasionally letting out little snuffles.

A soft smile crept onto Donald's beak.

Despite himself, he stepped into the room. Careful to avoid the creaking planks he'd discovered within his first week living on the boat, he approached the crib.

He reached down, where the little stuffed lion had fallen, that Donald had recently bought the boys. They'd been in love with it from day one, hardly willing to share it even with each other. Donald's heart still ached at the thought he couldn't even afford two more plushies for them.

The lion was lowered carefully and Dewey, always the most active out of the three, who lay at the very right, immediately snatched it away from Donald's hand. The movement was accompanied by a soft, baby hand smacking into his brother's, Huey's, face. The boy frowned in his sleep and turned around, but didn't wake up.

Donald let out a soft breath of relief as he pulled up the blanket a bit, to properly tuck the three in again. Louie didn't acknowledge any of the changes going on within the crib, blissfully, deeply asleep.

Donald couldn't help himself as he brushed his hand over the youngest triplet's head. For a while, he had been nothing but anxious about Louie. Because the little one had been so much sleepier, much less active than his brothers. But the doctor had reassured him that Louie was perfectly fine, his energy levels simply did not quite match up with his brothers.

The doctor had also promptly slammed him with an outrageously high bill for the appointment, but Donald decided not to think about that for the moment. He didn't want to ruin his mood again, not when he'd just managed to calm himself.

He backed away from the crib, intent to go gather the bills and newspapers he'd laid out, maybe look over them tomorrow when he'd had some sleep. (He already knew Dewey was going to wake him up in the middle of the night again, hungry and fussy and bothering his brothers in the process.)

Except as he softly closed the door, making sure it didn't produce a sound, his eyes caught on the opposing wall. Or, more accurately, the window across from him. Because that window was wide open, letting in the cold night air.

Immediately, Donald was on alert. His shoulders tensed as he looked over the room, poised and ready to defend himself as well as the babies in the next room, should it come to that.

But the room looked entirely untouched, except for the open window. A bit dirty, a bit messy, sure, but not anymore or less so than before Donald had gone to check on his nephews.

His brows furrowed into a frown. Strange.

Perhaps he'd opened the window earlier and forgotten...?

Still he didn't relax, even as he approached the window and closed it again. It looked fine, really, no evidence of being tampered with or anything. And certainly Donald would have heard anyone come in, even from the boys' room. Even through the door - it wasn't exactly sound-proof, after all.

Reasanobly reassured, Donald went back to his pile of papers. A few had scattered off the table and now decorated the ground.

With a huff Donald bent down to pick them up.

But as he did so, something red caught his attention in the corner of his vision. It couldn't be the crayon - he was still carrying that around, after all - no. It was an envelope, half-hidden under the pile of other documents.

Frowning harder than before, Donald reached out and pulled it free. His tension was back immediately and his gaze hushed over to the baby monitor for a second. But no sound came from there, nothing indicating anything being amiss.

Only the red envelope in his hands.

He didn't remember it being in the pile of mail he'd grabbed that morning - mostly bills, really - and there was no address on the front, either. All that was written on it in awfully nice, unfamiliar handwriting was "For Donald Duck".

Even as he turned it, he didn't expect to find more. And he was right, the back was entirely blank.

Already over this, whatever this was, he began ripping open the letter. Meanwhile he tried composing a mental list of Scrooge's enemies and which one was most likely to send a threat to Donald, of all people, when he had so clearly distanced himself from his uncle.

The list shattered into a pile of questions as he read the words trapped within the envelope.

"Dear Mr. Duck,

It has come to our attention that you have recently split off from your uncle and are in dire need of both a babysitter and a job. To prove that we do not have any malicious intentions toward you or the children, we propose a meeting with one of our representatives."

There was more, after that, instructions about a place to meet - a public place, a playground in the middle of Duckburg, yet not too far from the boat. Donald knew it well, went there often if only to satisfy his own need for fresh air.

It was a well-frequented place, always full of other parents - some of which had helped Donald with the kids before, some of which he'd thought of setting up a play-date with. Innocent, potential victims.

The thought of agreeing to this made every single alarm bell in his head ring deafeningly loud, but at the same time... His gaze travelled to look over the newspapers he'd been attempting to find a job in.

He sighed as he put down the envelope beside his bills. His finger tapped the tabletop a couple of times, his tired mind busy debating the pros and cons of the situation.

The cons list was pretty long, at this point.

But, even though it was shorter, the pros list held a couple of very important points that Donald would be remiss to ignore.

His musings were cut short by the sudden cry of a newborn.

Red envelope forgotten, Donald dashed into the boys' room again.

----

He'd debated calling Beakley for back-up, just some silent support in case things went south.

Now he regretted that he'd decided against it.

His nerves were high as he sat on the bench, watching the boys toddle around the sandbox. They stayed close to him today, though Donald hadn't told them to. Certainly, if he had, they'd have soread out as far away from him as possible.

Perhaps the little ones had picked up on Donald's anxiety. He had heard from other parents that children often were a lot more perceptive than adults gave them credit for.

Though his nephews were still so small. How could they realize his emotional turmoil? How could he put that on them? How could he put them in danger like this?

Hardly five minutes after sitting down, Donald stood up again.

This was a mistake. He shouldn't have come. Shouldn't have listened to that letter.

He was just so damn tired--

"Huey!", he had barely been able to call when an unfamiliar voice spoke up from just beside the bench.

"Mr. Duck?"

He turned and his heart sank into his stomach. He'd been right.

This was a mistake.

Stood just beside the bench were two people, one he didn't recognise, a duck with red hair who stayed in the back, not appearing to be paying attention. The second was Black Heron.

He remembered her, remembered feeling terrified, petrified as a child, faced with the supervillain. That same feeling now rushed through his veins, alongside overwhelming concern for the boys.

His eyes darted to the side for a moment, glancing to where they'd been just moments prior. They were there still, appearing unbothered as they dug through the sand.

"Black Heron.", Donald replied, voice cool as he returned her gaze.

The other grinned, reaching out with one hand. A robotic hand, Donald noted, with sharp bits and pointed ends that he wanted never, ever anywhere near his nephews. "So you do remember me. I am flattered, Mr. Duck."

"What do you want?", Donald asked, tone harsh. This sort of thing was exactly why he'd left Scrooge in the first place. He had no desire for the boys to get involved with things like this.

Pulling back her ignored hand, Black Heron rolled her eyes. "Now, please. There's no need to be so hostile."

"Yeah! It's not like we're here tl kidnap the kids or anything! Now, if we were planning that you should be concerned, but honestly I don't know if I could do that. I mean, look at them! They're so adorable, I don't think I could focus long enough to take them! Not that I'm particularly good at focussing regardless, but my point is--"

"Quiet!", Black Heron interrupted the ramblings of her... Accomplice, a severe expression in her face.

The other woman looked sheepish and yet somehow entirely clueless and unaffected as well. "Sorry.", she said simply, giving a bit of a shrug.

Donald didn't feel very comforted by what was going on, though he supposed at least they weren't openly threatening to take the boys. He stole another glance at them. They were fine, Huey was busy digging a plastic shovel into the ground, Dewey had started shoveling sand into his beak and Louie looked about five seconds away from falling asleep next to his brothers.

Wait. Dewey was shoveling sand in his mouth.

"Dew-", he began, already starting in that direction.

But he was quickly eclipsed by the red-haired stranger Black Heron had brought along. She sped past him and picked up Dewey from the ground.

Donald's heartbeat sped up faster than the Cloudslayer could fly. "What are you- Put him down!"

But the woman wasn't paying him any mind. She was swaying Dewey back and forth, and... Talking to him.

"Y'know, I thought eating sand was a really fun idea, too, when I was younger, but then I tried it again recently and oh boy, let me tell you, getting the grit out of your teeth is nearly impossible! And, well, I mean you barely even have any teeth but, still you shouldn't get into the habit, y'know? Besides, who knows what all is crawling around in playground sand! You could get all sorts of sicknesses! Why don't you chew on this instead?"

She reached into the pocket of her coat and pulled out... A teething ring? She held it out to Dewey and the boy eagerly grabbed it, before shoving it in his mouth. "There, see? Much better!", the woman exclaimed before setting Dewey back down on the ground.

Donald felt a little lost at the display. "I- what?", he muttered, trying and failing to keep his worldview intact. He shook his head. Maybe all the lack of sleep was getting to him.

"Hm, yes, I was surprised, too, but apparently Agent 01 is quite adept at taking care of children.", Black Heron added, arms crossed against her chest as she watched the kids now, too.

"Oh, yeah, I had to take care of my little siblings all the time when I was younger.", the woman - Agent 01? - added, grinning up brightly at them, from where she sat kneeling in the sand, entertaining Huey.

Donald blinked a few times, still feeling unbalanced. Sort of as though somebody had pulled out the rug from under him. His unease and worry were still there, but he found mild intrigue there, now, too. The letter had mentioned there would be a babysitter. And a job.

Donald's brows knitted together again.

"What do you want?", he said again, glancing Heron's way once more, tone a touch less hostile than earlier.

-----

Working for F.O.W.L. wasn't so bad, really, Donald thought. Of course he wasn't one of the actual agents - moreso filling the role of accountant, fiddling with and filling out paperwork, but Donald didn't mind.

He liked it, actually, the quiet that came with it, the calm. Certainly he wasn't used to it; his life had always been hectic, one adventure chasing the next, chasing the next and then he'd abruptly become a caregiver for three children and the very idea of having a calm day went out the window.

But now? He tapped his pen against his desk a couple of times. He had an entire little office to himself, here in F.O.W.L.'s underground headquarters.

A desk with a chair, a couple of filing cabinets, a potted plant. A cozy little carpet on the floor, a "hang in there!"-poster on one wall. A poster with the F.O.W.L. logo on the other.

This might be the most normal experience Donald had ever had. And it was in the HQ of a secret organization that strived for world domination.

Truly only in this family, Donald thought with a sigh.

He scribbled down a couple more notes on the paper he was currently working on, before shoving it aside on the "finsihed" pile. He felt almost at peace.

His teeth came down on the back of the pen. His gaze flitted to the clock that hung above the door.

The document before him was nearly ledgible.

Nearly, because Donald couldn't focus.

Who was he kidding? He was the furthest thing from peaceful!

What was he even doing?! Working for F.O.W.L.?!

He stood up, chair spinning away behind him.

His steps were quick and crisp as he crossed the room. The door opened easily, unlocked, and as he peered outside he didn't find any guards, either.

They were underestimating him, then. He could work with that. He'd worked with that constantly when he'd been a child and none of Scrooge's enemies had taken him seriously.

The hallways looked basically normal as well, as normal as one could get, who knows how many miles under the earth.

Donald strode with confidence, face set into a snarl.

He knew where the boys where, knew that Pepper - Agent 01, the woman who'd accompanied Black Heron that first time - was in charge of keeping them safe and entertained.

How could he have agreed to that? Agreed to have a F.O.W.L. agent watch over his nephews? Even one as apparently harmless as Pepper?

He found himself picking up his pace until he was running through the hallways. Eggheads shot him confused looks as he made his way past, but didn't say anything.

He slid to a stop by the door of the "daycare".

He had to restrain himself from ripping it off his hinges, in a desperate effort not to draw more attention to himself.

In the room itself - floor covered in soft, colorful mats, looking like puzzle pieces, decked out with all sorts of toys and plushies - Pepper looked up in surprise, Louie peacefully napping in her arms.

"Donald!", Pepper exclaimed in surprise, voice subdued for the benefit of the sleeping infant.

Huey and Dewey weren't far from her, distracted by their own little toys. Dewey was chewing on that same teething ring Pepper had provided him at their first meeting.

"What are you doing to them?!", Donald snapped, voice a dangerous whisper.

Pepper blinked, part confusion, part surprise. "Uh, well, I was going to lay this little one down for a proper nap soon and maybe read Huey and Louie a story, later?"

"No.", Donald replied. "What are you doing to them?! To me?!"

"Uhm.", Pepper looked entirely lost at his line of enquiry. "...nothing?"

"Impossible!", Donald snapped. "I wouldn't have agreed to this if I wasn't, if you didn't--", his words died in an unintelligible garble of noise, frustration spilling out of him.

"Mr. Duck.", a new voice spoke up, unfamiliar in tone and cadence, yet he couldn't shake the feeling he's heard it before.

"What?!", he responded, whipping around to face the newcomer.

To face--- Donald blinked a couple of times.

Was that... The head of Scrooge's board of directors? What?

"Mr. Duck, I undrstand that this is all a lot to rake in, but I assure you, we are doing nothing to you or your nephews - aside from providing them proper childcare, of course."

Donald's mind restarted suddenly and he glared. "How do I know you're telling the truth? You and your people have tried to kill me a dozen times!"

"Oh, no, Mr. Duck, I understand how you could have come to that conclusion, but that is not what we - what F.O.W.L. - is all about, not at all. We have not been attempting to kill you, as you put it, but rather to put a stop to your uncle."

There was something awfully calming, relatable even, in the old vulture's stance, in his tone of voice, the way he spoke. Donald huffed, regardless, glancing over at the kids again.

Huey was staring up at him, now, eyes big, tiny beak curving into a smile.

"So you can take over the world.", Donald scoffed, attention returning to the vulture. He didn't remember the guy's name, but he'd seen him before plenty of times. Always complaining about money spent.

Surprisingly, he didn't try to deny it. He nodded. "Indeed. To make it safer. For you, for me, for... Them.", he gestured to the children.

Pepper was humming a tune as she played with Dewey, Louie still securely wrapped in her arm.

"So that none of them have to go through what we did."

"...we?", Donald repeated, confused.

The vulture wasn't looking at him, anymore, gaze placed on something far off, distant. "Indeed. You are not the only one who suffered through a childhood of danger and adventure at the hands of their family."

Donald jerked back in surprise, eyes going wide. "What- you-"

"My grandmother. She always took me along, no matter how little I wanted to.", the old vulture sighed, gaze meeting Donald's once more. "I only want to ensure that this fate does not befall any more innocent children, Mr. Duck."

Donald glanced betweent he vulture and the children still expertly being tended to by Pepper.

Of course Black Heron had already given him a basic run-down of what had just been explained to him, but... Well, it was hard to argue with that look in the other's eyes.

Donald had seen it plenty of times; that haunted, hollow thing. Every time he'd looked in a mirror, they would stare back at him. Every villain, every menace, every danger he'd faced as a child.

Heron hadn't just made up a story to convince a poor, sleep-deprived Donald to join F.O.W.L. he realized.

Tension bled out of his frame as he stepped into the room. He knelt besides Huey, smiling as the child grabbed ahold of his finger.

"...I'm sorry.", Donald muttered, "I don't know what... I understand."

"That's alright.", the vulture answered, easily. "You were traumatized. I know from experience that trusting people can be hard after what we've both experienced in childhood."

Donald gave a quiet chuckle. It was nice to have someone who understood.

Of course, Della had been there - thinking of her made him wince with pain - but she'd never quite realized how much Donald resented the adventures she loved so much.

He reached down, pulling Huey into his lap.

The little boy giggled, gurgling a couple of indistinct sounds.

He would help make sure no other child had to grow up as he did. Especially these children.

His children.

-+-+-+-++

Wow would u look at that! I have no idea how i got here but i kinda like it lol

Poor Donald being put under a lot of pressure aint he? Idk what else to say tbh

If u liked it. Please let me know :D

If u didnt like it... I do appreciate constructive criticism lol

Yes, I made Pepper Agent 01 to insinuate that she was the first egghead that joined F.O.W.L.. I just thought that was a fun idea x3

[relicsongmel]

Something I've always found fascinating about Raymond Shields is that despite seemingly having altruistic reasons for being a defense attorney, his reasons for trying to convince Miles to be one are anything but.

It seems understandable enough on the surface. After Ray comes around and agrees to work with Miles in The Imprisoned Turnabout, he sees remnants of Gregory shining through him despite von Karma's influence. Whether or not he recognizes that Miles' decision to become a prosecutor wasn't just born from that alone—that it was in tandem with wanting to distance himself from anything that reminded him of his father to alleviate the burden on his heart—is up for debate, but regardless: he acknowledges Miles as Gregory's son through and through and wants to capitalize on his dedication for pursuing justice in a way that he knows would make his father proud. He wants to let Miles in on the life he was robbed of at 9 years old—the life he once dreamed of living, where he follows in the footsteps of his father by giving everything he has to save people, by fighting like hell for the vulnerable and the condemned.

That said, as much as Ray dresses up his proposition by making it out to be as if he's looking out for Miles' best interests (and the best interests of society, even)...his motives for trying to get Miles to switch sides are almost entirely selfish. Ray's efforts (and most of his actions in general, really) are ultimately a product of his desperate attempt to cling on to anything related to Gregory out of an inability to move on from his death. Wearing his hat and coat, leaving the name of his office unchanged...and now, requesting that his son literally change jobs just because he can't bear the weight of his own loneliness anymore. Because he can't bear to think that the damage done by DL-6 is irreversible and Miles has moved on while he has stagnated for the past 17 years. Because he has an idealized vision of what he thinks Gregory would want and fails to realize that his son's occupation wouldn't matter to him as long as it brings him happiness and fulfillment. In his mind, letting Miles go means accepting the circumstances that brought him where he is and allowing both of them to move on. And that terrifies him.

It's even more deceitful when you realize that Ray's pitch comes at a very opportune time for Miles given his circumstances at that point: that is, he's under threat of investigation for prosecutorial misconduct and at risk of being stripped of his badge. Ray might fake incompetence, but he's not stupid—and he takes full advantage of Justine's warnings to try to sway Miles when he's in a more vulnerable position in terms of his job. Which is...pretty fucked up, to put it lightly. Despite having a better idea of where he came from compared to most people, through this Ray shows a lack of understanding of who Miles truly is and a lack of respect for what he's come to value, even if his path toward obtaining those values had some bumps along the road. But he's so blinded by his grief that he doesn't even stop to consider how much he's really asking of him, or what Miles is really searching for.

Ray was moved by Gregory. He values saving people. Defending the weak is an undeniably noble endeavor. But to ask that of someone else without consideration for their best interests is decidedly less so.

For all his occupation requires a certain selflessness, Raymond Shields is far more selfish than he lets on. And I for one find that contradiction fascinating to unpack.

[smittywing]

Third Time's a Charm

The threesome fic no one asked for. Because I slept too much today and need social interaction now. :P I have this vision for a three-fic series where Stephanie and Tim declare themselves Jason's new Outlaws (Jason despairs of their definition of 'outlaws') and they end up doing a bunch of Leverage-type missions. And eventually they all end up together.

“I love making terrible people sad,” Steph crowed, raiding the fridge for beers. She was stripped down to her sports bra and leggings and she draped herself over Tim as she pressed a bottle into his hands. 

Jason released the catch on his helmet and exhaled into the cool air of their de facto headquarters as the AC hit his sweaty face. “Great job, team.” 

He wasn't Bruce. He wasn't going to be. After action reports could wait for the morning. His team had earned the night off. 

“Steph, it's too hot,” Tim protested and pushed his cold bottle against her chest. She yelped and hopped up on the counter. 

“Jason, you want beer, right?” She waved the third bottle at him. 

“Absolutely.” He put up a hand and Steph threw it with true aim. Condensation slipped down the bottle but Jason caught it securely in his glove. “Timbo, you okay?”

~

And also:

~

“Hey.”  Jason stepped into the gym. The lights came up. “What are you doing sitting here in the dark?”

“Ugh.” Steph shook out her head and shoulders and stood up. “I've been trying to nail this combo for hours and I’ve clearly been resting too long.”

“Or not enough,” Jason countered. Steph’s hands were wrapped but the tape was coming undone. “May I?”

Steph laughed. “Knock yourself out.”

Jason tucked in the end of the loose piece of tape and thumbed it smooth. “Bruce always teaches combos slow and has you build up speed,” he said. “But you need the speed of the spin to bring enough energy into the kick. So in this case, you're going to want to do it fast and sloppy and work on tightening up your form once you're doing it.”

“Is that even allowed?”

“Revolutionary, right?” Jason flashed her a grin. 

“You know,” Steph said slowly. 

“Hmm?”

“Tim’s not the only one.”

Jason released her hand. He knew Steph and Tim were still close, maybe even closer than when they'd been dating, but there was still that mean little hiss of jealousy in his gut when she talked about Tim like that. 

“The only one what?” He sounded guarded, even to himself and hated it. 

“Who's had a crush on you.”  Steph met his eyes and shrugged, almost hesitantly. Definitely without her usual glowing confidence. 

Jason blinked. 

Because he and Tim. Tim and him. 

“I’m just saying,” she said quickly. 

“You mean you?”  

“Who else - yes, me.” Steph crossed her arms defensively and Jason realized just how badly he'd fucked up. 

“I I’m flattered,” he managed. “I'm just.” Were he and Tim telling people about them? Was there a them? If there was, wouldn't Tim have told Stephanie?  “I'm kind of confused?” he confessed. 

Steph rolled her eyes. He was so out of his depth. “Okay, forget it,” she huffed. “I just thought if you and Tim would be open to…being a little more open. I mean, Tim adores you. But he thinks he's not enough for you and - oh God, I’m a fucking idiot.”

“No,” Jason said immediately, because this was something he was sure of. “You're not an idiot. You think? Me and you and Tim? All of us?”

“Would I say anything if I didn't think it would work?” Steph said acidly. 

[nimdreams]

My story: Anteatypes

I have seen more people talk about their fluidity in alterhumanity lately. How some of us have had 'types that we do not longer identify as, but unlike how the community in the past has pushed that you are your 'type from birth and for forever, we are embracing that an identity just isn't us anymore. We are saying; no I wasn't wrong about this, it didn't turn out to be something different than I thought I was -- I just don't identify this way anymore, where I once did.

For this reason, I tried to coin the term anteatype, with help of a friend and a tumblr poll to ask the community what kind of term they liked. The meaning of the word anteatype, I described as follows; "A type that used to be very important to you, or that you identified as for a long time, but no longer identify as." I have since been using this label for my own elven identity, but not without analyzing this identity from time to time. The connection to this old identity of mine is still so strong sometimes, that I question if I am not an elf still. I do wonder if it is true that if I was once an elf, so fully and as such an important part of my self identity, wouldn't I remain an elf always? I would self reflect and journal, even got another noema at one point, but the conclusion remains for me that I am not an elf anymore. I tried to be an elf, because when I identified as one from around age 9 to 20, I was closeted and not in the community. I was an elf all alone, in secret, hiding my true self from everybody. It felt like, this was my time to fully embrace being an elf, be open about it, heal my younger self. Write about being an elf, talk to other alterhumans and elves about being an elf, it felt like this was my time to shine. But I can't. What was there before, the identity of elf that was such a big and important secret part of me, just wasn't there anymore.

And I wondered why. I wondered how that could be, and within the community, I didn't really find answers. I didn't see anyone else talking about losing an identity, except for those who left the community, and some would say those hadn't been nonhuman to begin with. I did however find out I wasn't alone in my experience, friends and mutuals I talked to had past identities too, and now I see fluidity in 'types and identity being talked about more often. Maybe that is because it is a topic close to my heart and a big part of my own identity, so perhaps I focus on such topics to the point of noticing them more.

During my 6 years in the community, I have tried on many labels and 'types and have been very fluid. I felt like I had no choice but to start calling myself a shapeshifter at one point, simply because of my many forms. It was very difficult for me to accept, because I desperately wanted to be only one thing and that thing be static. I have found a great sense of community among other shapeshifters and polymorphs though. Still, my labels switch around multiple times a month, as I try to find the best ones for my experiences. I guess that is just how my brain works, I want it all neatly categorized and put into boxes. Coming up with the term anteatype helped me with that. I have been remembering other identities I had as a child, gaining fox spirit and phoenix spirit as two more anteatypes. I didn't consider having more anteatypes at first. As focused on being one thing as I was, I applied the same to my past. That I was only the one thing for a decade rather than experiencing more in that time, but I am starting to remember more and more of my childhood alterhumanity and it has helping me accept my alterhumanity now. I have had these fluid and multiple experiences my entire life, it is part of me, and instead of embracing being an elf, I can embrace that part of me.

That is all I can think of for now. Thank you for reading, and please do share your experiences with anteatypes or fluidity if you have them! Opening up about these topics, shows others they're not alone, and hopefully helps our community grow to more acceptance.

[luckylittlelesbian]

no crash timeline, simp loser shauna and mean rich girl lottie. pt.1 tw: !bullying!

You'd think being on the well liked Yellowjackets soccer team, would make it easier for Shauna to fit in. That's what her parents thought when they pushed her into it. Certainly she could bond with the other girls over their shared interests in the sport, right? Yet, somehow Shauna still managed to be the outcast. It was almost impressive.

Her lack of social skills and almost non-existent self esteem didn't help. There were times she did feel like the other girls liked her, required team work and all. But once the game was over she always faded into the background. There was nothing she could think to talk to them about, no matter how much she tried.

Lottie was similar. But Lottie's lack of integration with the soccer team wasn't due to her being an outcast. Lottie didn't want to be friends with any of them. She was on the team out of necessity, extra credit or something. She saw the team as below her, at times felt even resentful for having to be near them.

It was obvious her friends (that flew above the whole school) teased her for having to be around the "loser soccer team". If they saw the whole soccer team that way, and Shauna felt like the loser amongst these alleged losers, she couldn't even begin to imagine how Lottie's friends viewed her.

Lottie seemed a little different though. She's been treating Shauna a little different. It was weird, most time Shauna felt like she was imagining it. Their first interaction of their high school years happened a few years back when Shauna first joined the team.

Lottie smiled at her. Other girls greeted her verbally, sure. But Lottie smiled at her.

It was a big improvement from all the name-calling, kicking and throwing things at her that Lottie would do when they were in elementary school. Lottie always got away with it, even at that age it was clear to Shauna how the world worked. Lottie had money and power, Shauna didn't. So Lottie could do whatever she wanted, and Shauna had to deal with the consequences.

Anyway, Lottie smiled at her. It must have been the first pleasant interaction she had with her since they met. And a few more followed. Like the times Lottie would kick the ball to her during their games. Or when she would pass her a team jersey to put on before practice. Or the times Jackie would assign the two of them to pair up for practice and Lottie wouldn't throw a tantrum and refuse to.

Something changed between them, Shauna was certain of it.

Something definitely changed in Shauna.

She'd still hold her breath, whenever Lottie passed by her, but now it wasn't out of fear that she'll be hit or kicked or insulted. It was something else. Shauna felt her heart fluttering. She felt dizzy at the idea of being near Lottie. And out of the whole team, Lottie seemed to tolerate Shauna the most.

"You're delusional," Shauna overhears Tai tell Jackie.

"No, you'll see," Jackie defends. Shauna doesn't know what they're talking about. "I'll get us tickets."

"Spice Girls are all sold out already," Mari joins in the conversation.

"Maybe we can ask Lottie," Jackie suggests making Tai scoff.

The conversation fades out as Shauna begins walking over to get her water. She sees Lottie sitting by their bags and fills with anticipation as she walks closer to her. Briefly, she considers just not getting water, but Lottie spots her so it's too late to turn back.

"Hi," she mumbles quietly once she gets there.

Lottie stares at her but doesn't say anything. Shauna feels like she's burning. She takes a sip of her water and clears her throat. A cold breeze blows through her shirt cooling her down. Like the nature is encouraging her to speak.

"I think they want you to get them Spice Girls tickets," Shauna mentions casually, unsure of what else to talk about with the girl.

Lottie doesn't say anything for a while, almost like she wants Shauna to crumble under the weight of the silence "You've been eavesdropping on their conversations?" Lottie accuses, but her voice is close to monotone, uninterested.

"No- I," The breeze isn't helping anymore and Shauna's cheeks turn a light shade of pink. "I just overheard." she manages to defend.

"Whatever," Lottie stands up.

Her seemingly abrupt movement gets Shauna's attention, which was, until now, on the bottle in her hand while she fidgeted with the lid like it was her life line. Once she looks up she sees Lottie already walking away.

She tries not to stare but Lottie's shorts are high waisted and she just looks so good. She's mesmerised by the way she moves as she walks towards her friends. Once Lottie gets to the other side of the field Shauna notices her friend whisper something to her. Whatever it was makes Lottie laugh and nod before she turns back to look at Shauna, who turns her head away so fast it hurts her neck.

The post break practice starts with Jackie complaining that Lottie ditched. Again.

This was unfortunate for the team but it was worse for Shauna. They now have an unequal number of players. Everyone pairs up like they usually do for warm ups, of course leaving Shauna as the last one left standing around awkwardly. Jackie just tells her to join one of the pairs and Shauna wishes the ground would swallow her up instead.

She spends the warm up just kicking the ball by herself.

Lottie shows up again like half an hour later. Jackie stops her before she can join the game they're in the middle of. The game stops too as the girls stand back and watch, anticipating the drama that's about to unfold.

Jackie takes Lottie to the side and Shauna is impressed by Jackie's ability to tell Lottie off, she's not sure that anyone ever has before. Actually, she's sure no one has ever told Lottie off before. It's obvious in the way Lottie looks at Jackie. Her height helps establish her presence here, above everyone else. She looks down at Jackie, with a hint of a smirk painting her features as Jackie speaks. Like she finds her attempts amusing. She stands with her arms crossed, not breaking eye contact with the captain.

"What are you going to do about it?" Lottie eventually challenges.

"If you don't start taking this seriously, I'll have you kicked off the team," Jackie says once she begins to walk away, and turning her attention back to the team.

"I'd like to see you try," Lottie, of course, will always get the last word in.

Jackie ignores her now and Shauna watches Lottie scoff before she turns around and leaves.

"I don't think you'll be getting those Spice girls tickets," Shauna hears Tai tell Jackie as they watch Lottie storm off.

Lunch is Shauna's least favourite part of the school day.

She often sits alone, and sitting alone in the canteen, is something that she feels should be used on soldiers and spies as a form of torture to get information out of them. High school bullies would get them talking within the hour, she knows it. It's not like anyone has ever been physically violent with her (other than Lottie when she was younger), but sometimes she wishes they'd just punch her and be done with it. Because what they do is far worse. These mocking games that destroy her from the inside. Snide remarks as they pass by. The looks. The whispering. The mockery.

She gave up on the canteen a long time ago. She brings her own lunch now and eats out behind the school in a spot she's sure nobody knows about because she's always left alone here.

Until today.

She's eating the gross sandwich she made in a hurry this morning and reading over her science class notes when she hears slow foot steps that seem to be getting nearer. She waits to see who appears, thinking maybe it's a teacher coming to tell her she can't be here, but when she sees Lottie round the corner she almost drops her lunch. Not only because Lottie is the last person she was expecting to see right now but also because Lottie's hair is down and she's wearing this little dress that Shauna is sure goes against the school's dress code. She has knee high socks on and Gucci loafers that are probably more expensive that most things in this school.

Shauna looks stupid the way she's looking up at her, Lottie likes it. She tilts her head to the side, "You good?"

Shauna snaps out of it, chokes on the food in her mouth. "Yeah," she manages eventually. "Sorry, I just-" she gets up from the floor quickly, the notebook forgotten in her lap dropping to the floor as she does. She winces at the sound. Lottie watches in amusement. "I just didn't know-" Shauna has no idea what she's saying. "You know."

"Umm," Lottie doesn't know.

"What are you doing here?" Shauna finally manages to say something of substance. "I mean not that you can't be here. I just. I'm just. Sorry, I didn't know anyone knew about this place. I just have lunch out here cause the canteen is so loud and… stuff." She finally stops, scratches the back of her neck. And begins to feel a bit doomed, considering Lottie now knows of her lunch hiding place.

"I didn't realise you could speak so much," Lottie says once Shauna is done.

Shauna chuckles awkwardly. Stays silent this time, unable to find a good balance between not talking at all or talking too much.

"Anyway," Lottie begins. "I need you to do something for me,"

"What is it?" Shauna ask, immediately feeling embarrassed by her eagerness.

Lottie smiles, this is going to be easier than she thought. "Jackie snitched to coach Martinez and he wants me to clean and organize the shed they keep all the soccer shit in, as some kind of a punishment." She begins to explain, clearly not caring at all. "I want you to do it."

"What?" Shauna is shocked at the bluntness, and for a moment she feels like she's back in elementary with her. This is the old Lottie she's talking to right now. Not the Lottie that nicely asked to let her borrow a pen that one time in literature class. (Shauna never got that pen back, but she doesn't mind.)

"You need me to say it again?" Lottie takes a step closer. Shauna isn't sure if it's fear she feels or something else. "You clear out the shed, while I hang out with my friends." Lottie says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Shauna can smell Lottie's perfume and before she can even think she nods her head.

"Great." Lottie smiles warmly and takes a step back. "After school, by the bleachers," she says as she's already walking away.

Shauna feels like she can finally breathe again once she's alone. She sits back down on the cold concrete and leans against the wall, groaning in frustration at what she just agreed to before her brain could even think. But then again, it's not like she had a choice.

Shauna works in and around the shed and Lottie and her group of friends sit on the bleachers. Shauna told Lottie she didn't have to stay, desperately hoping Lottie and her friends would leave but Lottie claimed she has to keep an eye on her.

Those words did not give Shauna butterflies.

She's far away enough from them to not be able to make out what they're saying but close enough to hear their loud laughing. Lottie comes over once in a while to check on her and tell her to hurry up. Or tell her she's doing something wrong. "God you’re so useless," she groans as she runs her hands through her hair in frustration.

Shauna feels a mix of emotions she isn't used to. Firstly, she feels like a little kid again, with tears burning her eyes because Lottie said something mean, helpless because no teachers did anything to stop her. But there's a new emotion now too. She's focused on Lottie more now. The flexing of her arm muscles as she moves to pick up a box of jerseys and shows her which shelf they're meant to be on. The way her skirt rides up when she bends over to pick up the bag of soccer balls and move them to where she claims they're supposed to be. The other feeling she feels when Lottie gets so close to her face she can feel her breath on her lips and says "Take mercy on me and be less stupid," before she walks back to her friends.

Shauna's conflicted.

She's not sure how long has passed since she got here but apparently Lottie's friends are getting bored. The group of them walk over and luckily they act like Shauna isn't even there as they speak with each other, which Shauna is grateful for, it's better than the alternative, most definitely.

"You're so boring," one of them says to Lottie, Shauna assumes, she's not looking at them, trying to act like she can't hear them.

"Just come over once you're done here," another voice says.

"Yeah, yeah," Shauna hears Lottie say, before- "Shauna!" she calls out for her from outside the shed and Shauna's heart drops. "My friends are leaving, be nice, come say bye to them." Lottie tells her once she's out of the shed.

The state she's in, sweaty and dirty, is a painful contrast to the wealth and entitlement that exudes from the people standing in front of her. She can barely look at them as she speaks. "Bye,"

Lottie's friends laugh, and she knows it's at her for whatever reasons they might have. They're already a few steps away before two of Lottie's friends shout back "Bye losers,"

Shauna sees Lottie roll her eyes, clearly bothered by being associated with her. "I'm obviously not dressed for this," Lottie says once the two of them are alone. "So just hurry up, I'll tell you what to do."

The next hour goes by quickly, Shauna is out of breath and her arms and back hurt from putting all the stuff on the shelfs and all the sweeping and trying to avoid deadly spiders that might or might not be in the old shed.

To Shauna's surprise Lottie doesn't seem to be in the worst mood ever. This becomes clear when after Shauna is done and Lottie says, "Shower when you get home, you stink." Instead of not saying anything at all.

[grasshopperdoingdogpaddle]

The chi-swapped versions of the characters work by removing the larger chunk of the user's chi, but doesn't actually add anything that wasn't already there.

It's interesting how the things they say are genuine thoughts in the back of their mind or stewing in the corner of their hearts.

Heylin Omi

"When I tried to lead, no one would follow. When I tried to speak, no one would listen. Only one person stood by me, believed in me, and trusted me. That is where I choose to go."

"I have no time to rest. I must fight. If only I did not have to sleep. I could fight 7-24. Hyah! Hyah!"

"As long as I get to fight, fight, fight!"

Good Omi

"Hello, my wonderful friends!"

"Yes, but it is not bigger than the joy I feel towards all of you! If I had arms, I would give you all a hug. If I had legs, I would leap for joy!"

good Jack

"Omi! I missed you so!"

"I say go for it! I know you guys can't lose! Because you have good on your side! And when you have good, you've got the world on a string!"

"Wouldn't want anything to happen to my number one guy (Master Fung)! Mwah!"

"Oh, Jack. It’s so good to see you! No, no, no. You don’t wanna go in there. That’s where Hannibal Bean lives. The last thing you need are more bad influences."

"I’m afraid my evil side’s about to get into a whole lot of trouble."

"Bad Jack went to visit… Hannibal Bean! I told him not to, but does he listen to me? Nooooooo!"

Heylin Kimiko

"Once I have both Wu, it’s evil domination, baby!"

Good Wuya

"If I win, I’m opening a home for birds without nests."

I've talked at length about how you can see Omi's loneliness and isolation and the utter depths of devotion he's capable of in Heylin Omi, as well as the hyperactive bloodknight energy he always has. It also shows how much Omi really loves Chase. It shows us that deep down, all Omi wants is to be with someone who he feels loves, trusts, and believes in him.

And you can see the overwhelming adoration and love for his friends in good Omi, when he doesn't have his other half to stifle how much he wants to gush over them. This half of Omi doesn't even mind comments about the size of his head.

Heylin Kimiko reveals that world domination is apparently just in the back of Kimiko's mind on a daily basis. She's a rich kid so nothing too out of the ordinary there.

Good Wuya reveals that Wuya likes birds, which is consistent with how good she is Ying-Ying and how she played nice with Chase's crow.

But Good Jack probably reveals the most about himself, I think.

Jack apparently believes that good always triumphs over evil, and he's genuinely worried about how many bad influences he has in his life. He's somewhat fond of the monks and prefers Omi good rather than evil.

And there's Good Jack's attachment to Master Fung, "his number one guy".

I don't think Jack already had this admiration for Master Fung buried deep down, of course. I think this is another show of how Jack really wants to cling to an older role model in his own alignment.

Good Jack idolizes Master Fung in the exact same way Regular Jack idolizes Hannibal, Chase, and Klofange (until he found out Klofange was wasn't evil and idolized Dyris instead.)

[graveyardcuddles]

I never really understood when people talked about "the pain" of falling in love with fictional characters. I've had crushes on fictional characters before. I knew people fell in love with fictional characters. Those people described their feelings as beyond a crush and that they truly, genuinely in love with their character. But I never really related to those feelings. Not until Astarion.

I know this post is gonna sound silly to some but I actually teared up a lil writing this lol.

It's kinda crazy to experience this feeling for the very first time at my age. Maybe it's because of the video game romance aspect, which I had never really experienced before bg3. Maybe it was because I met Astarion at a time in my life where I was desperately lonely and isolated.

I was very much in my trauma of something terrible that had happened to me a few years prior that I'm still healing from and will carry with me for the rest of my life. I was abandoned by my friends and family in this crisis and left to pick up these pieces. I lost the opportunity to fulfill some of my biggest dreams. I generally felt broken, ugly, and unlovable.

And then this beautiful man comes into my life and makes me smile and laugh so much more than I've smiled or laughed in literal YEARS. He's this delightful combination of vampire tropes I adore that just tickles me and makes me hang onto his every word.

His flirting is over the top and silly, sure. But I can't help but fall for it because he calls me "darling" and "beautiful" and like....I've literally NEVER flirted with by ANYONE I felt attracted to before. I know a lot of people criticize Astarion fans who fall for his flirting right away for "falling for the act," but it's hard not to when you're not used to feeling desired. For once in my life, it felt nice to be desirable.

And of course, the more I found out about him, the more and more I fell in love with him and wanted to do everything I could for him. Finding every little way to get approval from him in the game. Finding every conversation you could have with him. Dressing him up. Leveling him up and making him stronger. Romancing him. Killing his abuser with him. Freeing him. Finally completing his quest and then getting that last scene with him at the epilogue.

It was after the epilogue scene that I realized I couldn't get enough of him. Thst I was actually MISSING him when I wasn't playing the game. And worse, I started wishing I could literally experience the relationship my Tav has with him. That I he could look at me like that, kiss me like, hold me like that.

I started thinking I really wanted a boyfriend. I wanted to find a nice, sweet, funny bi/pansexual man I could get to know. I downloaded a dating profile. But it didn't take very much time swipping through profiles before I realized I wasn't really looking for any boyfriend. I was looking for an Astarion in the guys on this app. I ultimately felt like it wasn't fair to them to hold them to that expectation.

So I gave up on the idea of dating for now (I have other things going on in life that make that hard, but yeah). My desire to find Astarion in someone else wouldn't end well, probably. I still feel such a strong love and desire for him it actually hurts my heart.

Even so it still took me a LONG time to admit I actually LOVE Astarion, and that this isn't just a regular crush. I didn't WANT to be in love with a fictional character. But after failing to connect with anyone on the dating app I realized this went deeper than just wanting a relationship. This was about wanting a SPECIFIC relationship, one that had serious limitations compared to a "regular" romance.

I know he's not real. And that's part of where the pain comes from. I desperately wish he was real. Or at least a version of him who's in a more healthy, healed place and ready for a relationship. I know one day I might be able to find someone who's somewhat like him. But I'm too afraid I don't have enough to offer a real person for a real relationship right now. I don't know if I ever will be. I know Astarion will always be there for me, though. At least in my heart.

It is painful to be in love with a fictional character. But I do think that is what I feel for Astarion. I think about him every day. He makes me smile and laugh. I picture a life with him all the time. And the joy I receive from thinking about him FEELS like him loving me back.

Astarion has even motivated me to improve myself for the better, somewhat. I make an effort to take care of myself more partially because I feel like he would judge me if I didn't lol.

[danieyells]

I can also see Romeo straight up setting a glory hole, tying your knees to your chest and shoving your ass in a hole. Basically renting the mc by the 15 minutes and bc he hates the mess and it would be annoying to send someone to clean every few hours so he is strict about condoms, tho if someone paid a few hundred dollars he might look the other way

Re: Sold by Sinostra(Frostheim edition) mini headcanons because i guess i have to give these a name i can remember

Oooh absolutely. Just shove them in a box so he doesn't have to look at them crying and being a disgusting hole, plus less mess! Although as far as cleaning goes i imagine a lot of it is just like. One of his goons comes in with a hose and sprays them down. Or there's some sort of anomaly that he sends in that cleans all the mess up, like an akaname. But I think 'if you don't want to use a condom you'd better pay a lot more' would also be very in character, no matter what you're allowed to do to the pc. Mortkranken has medicine if you have problems.

And since @jadeleechsupportgroup and @dewstickynotes said who they wanted next. . .

Sinostra! As you can see I've got ADHD that's so bad that it took me damn near a month to do something as small as this, so please do not stay up all night waiting on it lol. maybe Hotarubi next since you both also said Haku.

romeo got two since he's the catalyst for this scenario--or maybe just because i had two distinct things in my head for him. i don't remember what my initial idea for taiga was which is bothering me.

As Romeo is the one selling you, the opportunities are plentiful. But if he likes you a lot, he'll treat you very well. You feel more like an oiran the way you're pampered and dressed and only sold to people Romeo doesn't think will treat you too crudely. Not to speak of the price he sells your body for--as if you're a luxury good, not an indebted whore! He dresses you himself, making you up to his standard with makeup and skin treatments. After you're bathed(whether by yourself or a trusted underling) you sit at his feet in the VIP room, bare naked, like a pet, until he's ready to tend to you. He complains about how much of his time you're taking up, but he seems to enjoy treating you like a doll. "See? This isn't so bad, right? You'll be able to pay me back in no time this way!" After an hour of sitting nude at his feet, Romeo finally acknowledges you, stroking your head. His underlings bring a selection of clothing he must have ordered them to retrieve, and he stands you up as he decides what to put you in. An expensive-looking box of make up is placed on the table, but he turns your head to face his mocking expression before you can see the branding. "It would certainly have been better if you'd only paid what you owed, but you've done a good job so far of making the money back. Of course, I'm pricing you at far more than you're worth--so how about you say 'from the bottom of my heart, thank you for making me worth something, Romeo' for me?"

On the other hand, Romeo could want you all for himself if he likes you in a different way. For you to be handled by the filth out there when you ought to be his. . .in the end he wouldn't be able to take it. Once your fate was sealed he would tell you he needs to gauge how much you're worth. He knows most of the auction room customers who're out to purchase other humans are out for sex--so he'll have to evaluate your body and your performance. "Do well, or you'll be here even longer." But this 'evaluation process' seems to take quite a while. He examined your body like you were a dog at a show, and you blew him and cockwarmed him while he worked, sitting idly by when he didn't want you to touch him. When his underlings frustrated him, he threw you down and used you until he wasn't so angry anymore. You knew he punched walls and slammed tables, but you somehow didn't expect the spankings or the rough pounding. Somehow you got scolded over the bruises he gave you. "I've made a decision." He announced after his workday seemed to be over and he'd finished counting the casino's profits. "I think you'd pay off your debt to me better personally. So you'll be my property, for me to do with as I see fit, until I've decided you've paid me back. I tell you what to do, and you say 'yes, sir' or 'yes, Fico'. Got it? No backtalk, no bitching, and no questions! . . .If we're alone, I'll even let you say 'yes, Romeo.'" He talks as he leads you through the halls and to a room--his bedroom, by the looks of it. He sits in a similarly fancy chair to the one in the VIP room, and gestures to his feet, where it seems you'll be sitting more often for a while, then lifts your chin with the tip of his shoe. "Why don't you you start with showing me how thankful you are that I'm not making you a common whore, used by the rodents outside? I think that's worth a little worship, don't you?"

You'd think Taiga wouldn't remember you well enough to get you out of this, but the way he coos "here, kitty, kitty" at you to beckon you to the bars of your cage to pet you says otherwise, as does the way he asks, more to Romeo than you, "what's my little kitty cat doing in a cage, huh?" But the cold and empty look in his eyes also tells you something important--he is hungry, and the tight grip on the back of your neck when you try and back away doesn't inspire much hope that he doesn't intend to use you to solve that. His underlings pay Romeo, and Taiga unlocks your cage himself before he parades you through the casino, despite your state of undress, to bring you all the way back to his room where his goons take their places guarding outside the door and you are shoved onto his bed and easily held down with a single hand against your chest. "You really wandered into some deep shit with your debt like that, huh! Lulu would've had you in there forever if I didn't come along and save ya! Y'know how literally you'd've been fucked if not for me?" He laughs, moving away from you to open the curtain to his torture room. "So, what should we play with today, little stray kitty? Then again, I'm gettin' pretty hungry. . . ." He takes up and admires a rather nasty looking knife. "But if I ate you right now, I wouldn't be getting my money's worth. . .you get what I mean? You weren't cheap, so you're gonna have to entertain me a little, kitten." He puts it away, retrieving his pistol and aiming it towards the ceiling. "I got an idea! How 'bout I be the cat today. . .and you be a little mouse. And all you gotta do is get off this ship before I catch you. . .I won't even have my mooks stop you from runnin' and hidin'. I'll give you a head start, too! Between that and how hungry I am, you can get out of here, right? Oh, but if I catch you. . .you cost a real pretty penny, like a real purebred kitten. . .so let's hope I can get as many meals outta you as you were worth." A click. A bang. Shattering glass and a pop and sparks before the room is shrouded in darkness. The doors slam open, Taiga's underlings bursting in in alarm at the gunshot. Your opportunity for freedom is marked only by Taiga's voice. "You've got 30 seconds."

"Vice Captain, this could easily be prosecuted as unlawful imprisonment under Article 220 of the Penal Code." Ritsu explains, gesturing towards you in your cage. "As far as this contract goes, the consent towards confinement has been retracted. I must advise that you return their clothing and allow them to leave the room." It's surprisingly easy to convince Romeo to yield under threat of law--although Ritsu only requires that you're released and ignores any other occupied cages in the room. As for your debt, Ritsu has already prepared a contract for you, allowing him to pay it off for you, subsequently making him your creditor. As you work with and are frequently paid by Ritsu, part of these paychecks will simply be withheld. . .it's a very thoroughly written contract, which you sign as it will keep you out of Romeo's 'private office'. An NDA is also procured for further discussion of this particular incident. "It would have been preferable if you had informed me of this debt of yours beforehand." Ritsu sighs in some disappointment, walking you back to his office. "For you to be burdened by such a debt reflects poorly on me as well, you know. So long as you and I continue our working relationship and you do well on your missions, I'm certain you'll be able to repay me in time. Now then, as for the fee for negotiations. . . ."

[snowraven007]

I was reading the last book in the ACOTAR series until Rhys said that "Nesta owed Feyre that much", after the war with Hybern, once she'd sequestered herself into her apartment away from them. That sentence took me off guard, not expecting it at all, and then it pissed me off - especially when Cassian didn't even say one word to defend ber. Like, excuse you ?? If it wasn't for Nesta's distraction, Feyre and Amren wouldn't even have been able to reach the cauldron. They weren't even able to figure out Hybern's location until Nesta used her powers ! Oh yeah, and she singlehandedly saved Cassian's life too, among other things that I'm sure I'm forgetting. Had it not been for her, Cassian would have died on that battlefield. So I'm sorry, who owes who ??

And it's not even about "owing" anything to anyone, it's about getting some fucking respite. Like, she just lost her father, she had to go to war and was forced to become a High Fae in all that short time. It traumatized her. Give the girl a damn break. She shouldn't have to be forced to spend time with everyone with having barely any time to adjust.

And besides, while Feyre is lucky to have a bunch of people supporting her, a family that loves her, these people aren't remotely close to Nesta - even Cassian, who she had a special relationship with from the start. Granted, she doesn't allow people to get close to her, not truly, not until her book, but either way she shouldn't have to hang out with anyone and in such a vulnerable state, because of THEY feel about it, or because she "owes" Feyre.

I was really peeved by the selfishness of that sentence. I haven't read the rest of the book, but in that moment, I feel like he only thing thinks about are poor darling Feyre's feelings, as opposed to Nesta's, who had a very legitimate reason for going away. He hasn't got a clue about what she's going through, and he doesn't care - not then. I don't think he realizes the world doesn't revolve around his mate and her feelings.

Not saying, though, that Nesta doesn't owe Feyre, especially for all those years the latter spent hunting for her family, keeping them aloft all on her own. She does. But everyone played a part in the war, ESPECIALLY Nesta, and I don't believe she owes anyone anything when this wasn't her war in the first place, not with the service she did.