#of course she still can’t acknowledge anything but maybe this was the beginning

[nilesandcc]

Hi! I was rewatching The Nanny and I wish they showed CC's reaction to Niles wearing that construction outfit in season 6. So my question is, from your pov, how do you think it played out?

(I think this is from the episode “Maggie’s Boyfriend” so I’m basing my answer off of this.)

CC sits in her director’s chair, white-knuckling the clipboard on her lap. If she doesn’t, she fears what her hands might do.

It isn’t a compulsion. It’s not a need. And it certainly isn’t a desire.

But.

Ever since their impromptu dinner after Yetta stayed at the manse, maybe ever since Max and Nanny Fine’s wedding, CC has felt a certain…urge.

She wants to touch him. Not as lascivious as it sounds (she certainly won’t let her thoughts go there, not in the middle of a shoot). She wants to gently lay her fingers on his forearm. She wants to wrap her hand in the crook of his elbow. She wants to stand close enough for their bodies to touch.

When the feeling strikes, it is so overwhelming and distracting and confusing that CC finds it easier to just walk away from him. It is far worse if he’s within range. Much easier to put him out of her sight.

So of course the man shows up to this shoot, likely in some misguided attempt to prove he’s still virile, but he isn’t wearing a suit or a sad cardigan. He’s dressed as a construction worker.

His surprisingly toned arms bared. His chest on display. She’s never been jealous of a tool belt before but she can’t deny she wouldn’t mind behind wrapped around his hips.

She can’t walk away. She’s in charge. She isn’t paying attention to anything that’s happening. She’s only hoping he turns around so she can see the view from behind.

It is only when a corner of the clipboard snaps off in her hand that she comes back to earth and decides to make an emergency appointment with Dr. Bort.

[zahmaddog]

Part 2: The Warning

Read Part 1: Making Friends in Pabu Warnings: Fluffy AF, Alcohol, Flirting, Slowest Burn of Burns, Death, Blaster Fire, Explosions, Light Romance (SFW), Comfort.

Crosshair x fem!reader | Word Count: 3704

I decided to keep writing for fun. This one is a bit spicier than the first part as the relationship deepens between the reader and Crosshair. In good Star Wars fashion, I'm hoping this hooks you all in with some twists and action. The reader is a badass woman and I really wanted to fuel the character further with talents and quips. I hope she's a cool character to escape into. Enjoy!

“Come find me tomorrow?” You called to Crosshair as he exited your ship. He turned and waved a little to acknowledge the comment, but didn’t respond with anything endearing. You sighed as your company walked alone under the stars, leaving you feeling a little empty. You bit your lip and closed the door to your ship. You looked at the table where you and Crosshair had enjoyed the evening together and questioned if you should leave the small mess to wake up to; as a reminder that you weren’t completely alone that night. —--

“Did you get any intel on her?” Hunter sat on the steps of the Bad Batch’s well-decorated porch. “You’re still awake?” Crosshair’s words slithered out of his still buzzed mouth. “Are you drunk?” Hunter tried not to laugh. Crosshair ungracefully sat next to his brother and pointed a finger at the sky. “Was drunk.” Crosshair grinned a little. Then he put his head into his hands as his emotions swung back and forth. “Are you okay?” Hunter reached out and touched Crosshair’s shoulder. Crosshair stayed silent for a minute, then shifted to regain some composure. “We can trust her,” he began, “Or, I trust her. She’s no clone, but has also escaped a life of conditioning.”

Hunter let go of Crosshair and folded his arms as he leaned back into the staircase. “So, she’s not going to bring any trouble?” Hunter questioned Crosshair. “I can’t say for sure. I meant to talk about details of what I read in her file, but I didn’t get around to it.” Crosshair looked down at his feet.

“You spent hours over there and you didn’t even ask? What could you possibly have talked about?” Hunter said slowly, but with a hint of frustration.

Crosshair opened and closed his mouth a few times in an attempt to begin an answer. Hunter’s look of concern returned as he knew while Crosshair was a man of few words, he was always one to have words. 

“I tried to play her guitar. She plays beautifully,” Crosshair said to the stars. He looked at Hunter, “I think I may have made a friend.”

“Huh,” Hunter smiled. “Well, if you trust her, I’ll trust her.” He stood up and shook his pants from the sand and dirt on the steps. “But, we’ll need to watch out for her too then.” 

Crosshair nodded in agreement. 

Hunter was careful with his words, but he still felt something wasn’t right. He couldn’t tell if it was his previous run-ins with bounty hunters after Omega clouding his senses, or if there was something new to be concerned about. Hunter sighed and watched his loneliest brother stargaze.

I won’t ruin this for him. Hunter thought to himself. Shaking off the feeling of worry and dread for a moment, Hunter stepped inside, and turned to see Crosshair still sitting on the steps. “Are you coming inside?” Hunter yawned while he held the door open. “In a while, maybe.” Crosshair said unbothered. —-

Crosshair woke late that morning on the porch surrounded by Wrecker’s plush toy Lula, pillows, and a draping sheet to create a tent. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, causing the tent to collapse around him. He heard the front door open. “Oh, sorry, Crosshair!” Omega exclaimed. She set a plate of fresh pancakes in Crosshair’s lap and removed the sheet from his head. “I was hoping we could have breakfast together in a pillowfort?” Omega smiled. “Of course.” Crosshair said while pulling the sheet overhead to fix Omega’s pillowfort. —-

It had been a few weeks since getting to know the family that called themselves “the Bad Batch.” You had been to their home for meals a few times and Crosshair spent nearly every evening with you. In the mornings, you’d see Wrecker, Crosshair, and Omega out fishing, with Hunter in tow sometimes. On occasion, Crosshair would jump to your boat to spend the day with you.

Omega waved as their ship skipped over the choppy water to your vessel. Wrecker cut the engine and as the ships drifted closer, Crosshair jumped into the water and swam towards your boat. You reached down into the water and pulled him aboard. 

He grinned, “Hi, beautiful.”

You smiled and threw him a towel. “We could have waited until we were closer for you to jump on.”

“I decided I couldn’t wait any longer,” Crosshair said through the towel as he dried his face. 

From the ship, Omega, Wrecker, and Hunter waved. 

“Don’t keep him out too late!” Omega yelled as their ship took off towards the island, leaving you and Crosshair alone. He turned to you and sighed a breath of relief. 

“I have a surprise for you today,” you smiled as you held up a box of clay birds. 

“Target practice?” Crosshair raised an eyebrow. “How touching. You do care about me, don’t you?” 

“I could get used to caring, yes,” you replied as you tossed the box at him. 

“I didn’t bring my rifle,” Crosshair ran his fingers over the box and opened it to reveal clay birds ready for tossing and shooting.

“No worries, I have a few things stashed,” you vocalized while digging into a storage space beneath the deck. You pulled out a few blasters from below deck, a pistol, and two rifles. 

“They’re not much,” you grinned, “But it’s hard to get anything with the Empire running things these days. Will you keep my secret?”

Crosshair picked up one of the rifles and looked down the barrel and shot a look of approval in your direction, “Oh, I’ll keep your secret.”

You put a pair of binoculars to your eyes and scanned the horizon, then asked Crosshair, “Do you think we’re far enough out that nobody will notice?” 

“I’m sure you could blame this one on me and nobody will bat an eye,” he chuckled.

“Okay then, you’re up, Mister Sniper,” you laughed as you wound up your arm with a birdie ready to toss.

“No, no.” Crosshair motioned you to come closer to him, “We’re going to judge your marksmanship skills first.” 

You took the rifle from Crosshair with a bit of a confused look written across your face. You didn’t argue with him and you lined the rifle up with your shoulder. 

“Ready?” Crosshair looked at you and you nodded back. He threw the birdie high into the sky. Pulling the trigger the second it aligned in your sights, you blasted it to pieces. 

“Deadeye.” Crosshair looked at you impressed. 

“Okay, now it’s your turn.” You tossed the rifle towards Crosshair. He lined the rifle up to his shoulder as a serious expression washed over his face.

“Remember how I said I was a sniper?” He spoke softly as he looked down through the sites. “That’s a big emphasis on was. Throw it.” He instructed.

You tossed the bird into the sky, he followed it with the barrel, pulled the trigger, and blasted the bird to pieces.

“Seems to me like there’s still a sniper in there somewhere,” you said in admiration as the pieces fell into the ocean. 

“Hmm.” Crosshair replied with a grunt. He looked at his mechanical hand and placed it back on the trigger. “Again,” he prodded. 

You tossed the second bird into the sky, Crosshair followed it, pulled the trigger, and again blasted the bird to pieces. He looked up from his sights with a soft gaze and watched the pieces fall into the water. 

“I’m surprised I can hit anything at all anymore,” he snickered to himself while studying his mechanical hand once again. You watched his eyes glaze over, as if he was watching a movie scene play out in his head. 

“You okay? We, we don’t have to do this,” you implored. 

“No, it’s okay. Throw a few into the air at once, if you could,” Crosshair coaxed. 

“Is it cool if I shoot some with you? Want to see who’s faster?” you challenged.

Crosshair looked down the barrel, “You’re on.” 

You tossed several birds out at once with precision. None of them floated for long as you and Crosshair blew them to smithereens within seconds. About ten minutes after repeating this routine, you were out of clay birds to throw. 

“I don’t think we missed a single bird,” you bantered, throwing the empty box onto the deck.

“I guess you could say we make a good team,” Crosshair blushed and stepped closer to hand the rifle back to you. You let your hand slide down the barrel as you took a step closer to him, gazing up into his eyes for a few seconds too long.

“What is it?” Crosshair swooned a little. 

“I don’t mind these little moments with you,” you professed. “You’re different.”

Crosshair responded with a soft smile and small laugh, “I’m defective.”

Completely missing the joke, you respond “You shoot perfectly, even with a mechanical hand. I wouldn’t call that ‘defective.’” 

“No, like I’m defective by nature?” His eyes narrowed as he tried to explain, “My family, we’re all defective clones.”

“Oh.” It finally dawned on you why they all looked very alike, “Like defective clone troopers,” you muttered.

“You didn’t see that immediately?” Crosshair was a little stunned.

“No, I just thought you were… Well, take no offense to this, but regular people,” you admitted.

“You thought we were regular?” Crosshair laughed. “And Tech was always the one that said none of us would pass a psychological examination.”

You sat down on the deck, pulling on Crosshair’s hand to join you.

“Who’s Tech?” you asked.

Crosshair sat down on the deck next to you and put the blaster to his side. He pulled his legs close to his chest and crossed his arms in front of them. He was afraid to open up to you and to let you in. He took a deep breath in and exhaled, just as Omega had taught him in meditation, and just as he breathed behind the sniper scope for so many years.

“Tech was my brother.” Crosshair spoke more to the ocean than to you. “We all knew the risks to living a life as a soldier. Tech died protecting Omega and my brothers.” He paused for a moment, then resumed with hesitation, “He died trying to save me. We’re a family, but in a lot of ways, we’ll never be the same without Tech.” 

The boat rocked back and forth on the water as the ocean breeze responded to Crosshair’s words. You sat in silence next to him watching the birds fly just above the water. You reached out your arm across his back and leaned your head against his shoulder. It felt forced, this one-sided embrace, but you held him for a moment to share your condolences without breaking the silence. 

Surprised by your grasp, Crosshair breaks his tucked position and pulls you in, looping one leg around you and pulling you against his chest. His embrace tightened as his face fell to the nape of your neck. He exhaled slowly into your skin. You too relaxed into his grip.

Your comm rang, ruining the moment. You slid the small circular device out of your pocket and watched it ring.

“Are you going to answer that?” Crosshair inquired. His embrace broke slightly as you sat up a bit higher. The ghostly look on your face as you studied the device answered some of Crosshair’s question. “You’re afraid to answer it.” He muttered, releasing his embrace entirely. 

“What are you hiding?” He questioned.

“We’ll answer it together,” you answered the call.

A blue hologram figure appeared, floating above the small device. The figure was wearing a helmet to mask his face. He was unfamiliar to you, so you asked, “Who are you?”

“You don’t remember? Always so impersonal.” The voice was deep in response. “I have a warning for you. Vinn Carvel knows it was you that took the artifact from the compound upon your exit. Turns out, you were doing him a favor.”

“A favor?” You blustered in bewilderment. You felt Crosshair’s eyes shift from the hologram to you. Your heart sank.

“That artifact had an Inquisitor at our door this morning. Looks like you took something— priceless.” The hologramed voice continued, “If you’re on the run, I’d keep running. That’s the last you’ll hear from us.” The hologram switched off.

“What’s he talking about?” Crosshair sounded concerned. You met his gaze with a dissociated look.

“I might be dangerous after all,” you attested. 

—

You and Crosshair fled back to the island. The ship chopped roughly along the water as you held the throttle to the max. Crosshair rode on the opposite side of the ship in silence. The water around you began to darken, as if something was blocking out the sun. You look up, only to find your deepest anxieties ignite in the shadow of an Imperial shuttle.

The Imperial ship followed you to the island, appearing larger and larger as its altitude dropped. Crosshair picked up one of your rifles and held it close. You knew there was nowhere to run, but you needed to get Crosshair back to his family before conversing with the Empire.

You docked the boat and yelled to Crosshair, “Run!” He jumped from the boat to the dock and sprinted up the mountain out of sight.

Knowing what the Empire was after, you grabbed the backpack that rarely left your sight and jumped to the dock. You spied the shuttle landing at the spaceport, so you started running towards the Imperial shuttle.

Just throw them the bag and get out of there. You told yourself, but there was an unsettling feeling that it wasn’t going to be as easy as you’d hoped. 

Just as you got into the spaceport, you were met by two Imperial officers.

“Get on the ground with your hands up,” they barked. You followed their orders and immediately knelt with your hands up. 

From the main entrance of the shuttle, a hooded figure appeared and walked down the ramp. The inquisitor’s lightsaber ignited and they dragged the red blade alongside the ground as they walked towards you.

“Funny how you’re on this side of things now, Tarkin,” the Inquisitor snarled. “Your uncle was most displeased when he learned of your… desertion.” 

“Imperial royalty wasn’t my idea of a good life,” you hissed back. 

“Where’s the holocron?” The Inquisitor wasted no time.

“Just take the backpack,” you insisted.

The imperial guard behind you unzipped your bag and ruffled through it. He paused for a moment and pulled out a glowing pyramid. 

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” The Inquisitor smiled and accepted the holocron from the guard. “Lord Vader will be most pleased.” 

“Lord–who?” You quipped back.

“Guards, take her into custody and back with us to Mustafar,” the Inquisitor bellowed.

It was seconds after the guards forcefully applied the cuffs to your wrists and yanked you to stand that you heard blaster fire. Both guards fell to your side and the Inquisitor spun their lightsaber blade inches from your throat. You froze.

“I see you’ve made friends,” the Inquisitor deadpanned.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Crosshair slide down the lookout tower's side and walk closer to the Inquisitor. 

“You dare challenge me?” The Inquisitor called out.

Crosshair squeezed the trigger, causing the Inquisitor to block the blaster fire. You fell to the ground and shuffled away from the blade’s reach. Crosshair continued the onslaught of blaster fire, until one shot landed. Then another. The Inquisitor’s blade retreated and they fell to their knees staring up at Crosshair. 

“You can’t kill a force wielder,” they managed to utter in a weakened voice.

“Unfortunately for you, I was designed to.” Crosshair said as he pulled the trigger once more, causing the Inquisitor to fall lifeless at his feet.

Crosshair studied his kill, but directed his voice towards you, “Are you okay?”

You nodded in disbelief and responded in a near whisper, “You came back for me?”

He stepped over his kill towards you and ordered, “Turn around.”

You turned and gave him your hands. He took his knife and cut through the restraints and turned you to face him, his hands not leaving your sides. His eyes, broken with mistrust, looked longingly into yours.

“I have to go now,” you rasped. “I have to get this thing off the planet and away… from you. I’m so sorry.”

Crosshair, at a loss for words, moved his hand from your waist to your cheek. 

“Go.” He shuddered. You fell into his embrace and pulled away after a few second’s time. Crosshair planted a soft kiss on your lips and let go of you; you broke him. 

Detaching yourself from the screaming emotion of unspoken affections, you turned your attention to the mess you and Crosshair had made. 

“Help me get these bodies onto this ship,” You began. “I’ll follow their previous flight path, mess with the computer, and make it look like they never got to the planet. I doubt they’re tracking their Inquisitors closely.”

Crosshair nodded and helped you lug the bodies into the shuttle. 

“You’re not going to destroy the shuttle with yourself in it, right?” He prodded. 

“Unfortunately for you, no,” you gawked. 

“How can you joke at a time like this?” Crosshair fretted while heaving the last body into the shuttle. 

“I’ll remotely control my ship to come get me. Don’t worry. I’m going to be fine. This plan is our best shot to protect Pabu, then I’ll get rid of this artifact before anyone else comes looking for it,” you explained as you walked up the ramp of the shuttle.

“And who is looking for it?” Crosshair called to you. 

“I have more secrets to whisper to you later,” you sighed as you closed the shuttle entrance. 

—-

Racing to the pilot seat, you dispatched the landing gear and steered the shuttle to the sky, leaving Crosshair alone on the spaceport’s platform. Retracing the flight path with the computer, you found a nearby star system along the way to ditch the shuttle. 

Programming in the path to light speed, you pulled your tablet computer system from your bag and remotely controlled your private ship. Sending the flight coordinates, you programmed the ship to pick you up hours after ditching the shuttle. 

Now into space, you prepared the ship for lightspeed and punched it. It would only be a short journey, so you had to act fast if you were to erase the coordinate history of the ship and have enough time to clear your head. You worked your way into the computer, realizing it had been sending transponding coordinates of its position back to the Empire.

 The only way the plan would work is if nobody cross-referenced the computer’s data with the coordinates it sent the Empire. If anything, this maneuver would only buy you some time. You reprogrammed the ship’s harddrive, dropped out of hyperspace, ripped the motherboard containing the coordinate harddrive from the ship, and awaited your own ship’s arrival. It was a complex mission, but you were always quick enough on your feet to stay at least one step ahead of your enemy.

The hours moved slowly. You sat in the pilot's seat, feeling your thoughts catch up to your racing anxieties. The Empire found you. You thought to yourself. Crosshair will never trust you again. You sank into the chair. Crosshair. You owed him. He had saved you from Imperial capture; that of which you’d then be tried for treason and likely killed. It didn’t matter that you were a Tarkin or not, once a deserter, you were always an enemy to the Empire and your family. 

Your ship exited hyperspace on-schedule. You sigh in relief, then make your way to the escape pod. Launching yourself into space, you pilot the escape pod to your ship and dock it. You seal the cabins together and open your ship remotely. You drop inside your ship and double-check your bag for the artifact and motherboard. You close the seal and release the escape pod back into space.

“What’s the plan from here?” You hear Crosshair call from the cockpit. You had jumped a little as his presence startled you.

You walk up to the front of the ship and take the seat next to Crosshair. You reach out and touch his arm, as if to see if he was real or an apparition of your mind. Realizing your gaze was lost in the disbelief of his arrival, you turn your attention again to the shuttle that floated in space before you.

“Blow it up,” you commanded.

“Roger that,” Crosshair responded as he fired the ship’s cannons on the shuttle. 

“Get that escape pod too,” you pointed across the valley of space.

“Is that it?” Crosshair questioned.

“Not quite. One more thing,” you informed as you pulled the motherboard from your backpack. “Think you can do some sniping work from a ship’s cannon?”

Crosshair looked intrigued and raised a single eyebrow looking for further instruction. 

“It’s a dumb idea, but I’ll release this into space. If you can graze it with cannon fire, it’ll look like it went down in the blast. I reprogrammed it to look like it never made it to Pabu. I know they’ll likely cross-reference it with the shuttle's transponding coordinates, but this will buy me– or, us, some time. If we’re lucky, they’ll never cross-reference it because the motherboard will still be functional.”

“They’re going to be on us soon. This is a terrible idea.” Crosshair replied worriedly.

“Well, it gets worse.” You stood up from your seat and made your way to the back of the ship. “I sent out a distress call before exiting that ship. They’ll be here sooner than I’d like.”

“You are reckless.” Crosshair mouthed off.

“You’re the one that decided to read my file and thought it was a good idea to follow me out here.” 

Throwing the motherboard into the trash chute, you emptied the trash into space. Crosshair aimed next to the motherboard and burned it with cannon fire. Jogging back up to the cockpit, you slid into your seat, and punched the ship back into hyperspace. 

—-

[k-dokja]

Now I want to see the Adeuce duo's reaction when they first saw Riddle's gf😞

this got weirdly long because i was expanding upon another idea 💦 anyway, enjoy!

riddle is apprehensive.

he has no reason to be, but the anxiety underneath his concern for the festival preparation latches on him anyway. yes, the other members of his dorm have seen you before, this should be no different. in fact, he has detailed what he could about the day of his overblot to you. not only that, the organization of the upcoming cultural festival is going smoothly. 

there should be no element of surprise to worry him about introducing you to his juniors. 

but he’s apprehensive, anyway. he does not like being on edge, it makes him irritable. more than normal, based on what trey said.

“that’s the third freshman you snapped at in the past thirty minutes,” trey points out as the two of them are left alone in the room, “mind enlightening me on what is troubling you?”

“i don’t know,” his admission of ignorance also points out that riddle acknowledges he is being irrational, but he has no control over it, “maybe the energy of the day is getting to me.”

“the energy of the day?” trey echoes with apparent incredulity. “i don’t take you for someone easily swayed by the masses.”

riddle huffs, “it’s not that,” then, sourly, he adds, “it’s the first time she’ll be with me since what happened.”

“since what happened…?” although surprised, trey regains some gravity over the situation. “haven’t the two of you seen each other over the break?”

“we did,” riddle says, “but the circumstance was… cumbersome, i had a lot to discuss with my mother. we didn’t get to meet much because of that, i did not want her to be troubled with my problems until they’re resolved.”

“riddle,” trey fights to put down a smile, “you’ve always shared everything with each other, do you remember how well your plan to keep your overblot a secret from her went?”

“i only intended to keep it a secret until the break so i can tell her face-to-face,” riddle retorts, “besides, if it was anything else, i would have had no opposition, but this is something i have to fight on my own.”

whether trey understands why riddle has to take this stance or not, he reins back from further comment on the matter. “what’s bothering you then? do you think she’ll be unhappy with the distance?”

“of course not, she’s always understanding,” riddle holds back from adding ‘too understanding’ with a frown. “but she worries, she worries even more after my overblot. you can’t imagine the amount of fretting she made after i told her about it.”

trey looks like he wants to argue that he does know but decides to hold back with a smile, “so you want to show that she has no reason to worry then?”

“yes,” riddle admits with relief when his pinprick at his side is put into words, “that and… i expect ace and deuce to not make a bad impression of themselves, i had promised both sides to arrange a meeting.”

“oh?”

riddles nods, arms crossed, “she wants to express her gratitude for what they've done, and you were there when they overheard me talking about her.”

this time around, trey no longer bothers to suppress his own smile, “that should be interesting, i hope they get along.”

“i see no reason as to why they wouldn’t,” riddle smiles for another reason entirely, “now, we ought to double-check with the attractions one more time before the festival begins.”

“yea,” trey nods, “let’s head out.”

time always flies when he has a lot on his hands. by the time riddle gets the chance to sit down and catch his breath, you’ve already arrived at the festival ground with the remaining masses. riddle smiles at the phone when he sees the positive message he received from you. he wouldn’t have a chance to walk with you until he checked a couple more places, but the news of you warms his heart.

[ i still need to finish work, but i will catch up with you later? ]

immediately, a reply comes, [ take your time! i arrived with a few friends so i will stick with them until then 😊 ]

[ all right, i will see you then. ] if it was anyone else, they might have seen his message for indifference. but you know him, you’d know that even if he hasn’t said much, riddle presses his phone to his heart afterwards. only for a second to recharge before he returns to the fray. there’d be work to do until he sees you again. 

true to his words, soon as riddle checks out of his shift for the morning, he sends you a message to notify you of his freedom. your reply arrives after he finished delegating his duty to another committee member. the warmth he feels is pleasant in comparison to the heat of the day.

[ we can grab lunch if you are hungry 🥰 ]

[ with your friends? ] he asks, not hesitant, just curious.

the bubble informing him of your incoming text pops up and then sizzles with another reply. [ i already told them about my plan with you, they won’t mind 💖 ]

[ then i want to spend time together. ]

his reply is straightforward and succinct. he has no reservations about seeing your friend, but as he told trey before, the two of you haven’t gotten much chance to be with each other. there’d be other chances for him to meet them, not now, however. 

now, he only wants to be with you.

[ let me say my goodbye then, text me your location too 😊👍 ]

he smiles unconsciously. [ no need, i’ll head over. stay where you are. ]

your next message comes with your current location, the auditorium where idia shroud of ignihyde would be holding his conference. riddle briefly wonders if it’s something which interests you or if you went along to support your friends. however, he refrains from asking about the immediate moment and saves it for when he can see you again.

on his way there, riddle contemplates whether he should’ve asked you to send a picture of your outfit so he can spot you easier. but that turns out to be necessary because he recognizes you the moment he sees you. 

adorned in a white chiffon dress with pretty ribbons and delicate ruffles, your beauty rivals even the daintiest of roses in his dorm’s garden. the accent of red runs into your accessories, from the thin necklace you wear to the ring with a single ruby perching on a silver band. all of it is complemented by the bag hanging on your shoulder, a gift he purchased for your last birthday. 

every time he sets his eyes on you after a prolonged period of absence, riddle feels the air getting knocked out of his lungs. it is juvenile how he continues to be affected by the sight of you even after years together, yet riddle finds that he doesn’t mind this slight weakness when it comes to you. he’d stay to admire you forever if time allows, but that also means he will be deprived of your company. it wouldn’t do. squaring his shoulders, riddle walks up to you with determined steps, eager to be in your presence again. 

you perk up at his call for your name, and a smile readily blooms on your lips. “riddle!” 

he closes the distance in two strides, and when you greet him with a hug, he doesn’t stiffen in awkwardness. the embrace feels like home with your arms around him, but he does not dare on dragging it on even if he wants otherwise. there are too many prying eyes around, eyes which have no business caring about his love life.

“shall we go then?” he detaches from you with reluctance before offering you his arm to hold on to. 

you nod eagerly and accept his extended arm. “do you have any recommendations?”

riddle hums in affirmation and the skip in your step lighten his entire day.

after the two of you ordered from one of the booths with a more substantial offering, riddle sits down next to you at one of the outdoor tables. your hand has moved from holding onto his arm to intertwining with his hand in the process. 

it’s strange. he always tells you about his every day while the two of you aren’t together, yet when you are this close, his mind cancels out. he feels foolish and in love, it is inconvenient how the two can coexist and trouble him. 

‘i—‘

‘woah, isn’t that housewarden riddle?’

riddle bristles. the mention of his title has him tense all over. he blames it on his deprivation of your presence. the prolonged absence has made him irritable, even when it is no one’s fault but his own. yet, despite all senses and reasonings, he relaxes when he sees who it was that spotted him among the crowd.

‘ace. deuce. i thought the two of you would be in rehearsal for the upcoming competition.’

‘we were just allowed a break,’ ace answered breezily, ‘man, you and vil are like two peas in a pod, it’s like i never left our dorm.’ 

‘oh? is that a complaint about my methods i’m hearing?’

ace pales immediately, ‘ugh, absolutely not, i can only deal with one of you today.’

‘uhm, excuse me,’ it is deuce who interferes, on no one’s behalf but his own, ‘but… can i ask who is accompanying you?’

riddle blinks. ace has provided a momentary distraction from you that riddle doesn’t anticipate. he glances back at you for confirmation and then returns to his underclassman once he received it. ‘i remember the two saying that you wanted to meet her earlier, and here she is. ace, deuce, this is my girlfriend.’ he says your name with a hint of pride, before meeting your gaze once more. ‘and this is the underclassman we talked about, i wouldn’t have been able to recover from my overblot safely without them.’

your eyes widen in surprise, ‘oh…!’ 

riddle mourns the loss of your warmth when you untangle your hand from his. but he does not stop you when you get up to approach the duo, your arms opening, ‘thank you both so much for what you’ve done for riddle,’ you hug deuce first, closest to you. 

the boy stiffens in surprise, but makes no move to push you away, ‘oh! uh, it’s nothing, really, i was just doing what’s right…’ his cheeks turn a crimson red and increase in intensity even after you’ve turned to ace.

despite knowing what would be coming, ace does nothing to avoid you. in fact, there’s even a cheeky grin on his face when he accepts your hug, ‘yeah, you can count on us for anything at all,’ but the grin does not stay on his face for long, not when riddle narrows his eyes at ace. 

he means not to reprimand ace, only to draw the line of his territory. the younger boy is smart enough to not tread with dangerous water, indulging no more than he should in your hug. 

it amuses riddle to see the troublemaker duo interacting with you. even if they’re not saying anything, the clear contrast between you and riddle has befuddled them. 

‘i should be the one saying that,’ you say, ‘let me know if there’s anything i can help you with, i’ll do my best to assist.’

soon as you have expressed your gratitude, riddle decides it’s nigh that he joins the three of you. his approach captures your notice, just long enough for ace to lean over to deuce.

‘damn, dude,’ ace whispers, ‘i can’t believe she’s real.’

‘you thought she wasn’t?’

‘have you seen the housewarden? i didn’t even know he can talk to girls.’

‘i can talk to girls perfectly fine, thank you for your concern,’ riddle demonstrates that by wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him. ‘i do not know what impression you have of me, but being able to communicate with the ladies is mandatory in etiquette lessons. which i’m sure you would’ve known if you had learned it.’

‘ugh,’ ace groans, ‘seems like having her around makes you even more hostile to others than normal.’

‘nonsense,’ riddle retorts, ‘i’m always like this with you.’

a tug on his lapel, it’s from you, ‘riddle,’ you smile, ‘let’s be nice to your underclassmen.’

‘i’d say i’m being perfectly nice to them,’ he mirrors your smile, ‘but i suppose my hunger is making me feel a bit grumpy, shall we return to our lunch?’

‘oh, of course, i’m so sorry for getting carried away,’ then, you turn to the other two to ask, ‘would the two of you like to join us? seeing as you’re taking a break as well?’

immediately, riddle makes a smile with pressed lips at ace and deuce. it would’ve been innocuous from a far distance, but this close, it’s filled with nothing but murderous intention. one smile alone speaks volumes: ‘don’t even think about it’, ‘accept and it’s off with your head’, ‘i’m going to double your gardening duty if you ruin this for me’.

in the end, it’s deuce who caves first. ‘uh, we’ll have to pass, but thank you,’ he says.

‘yeah, thanks for the offer, but we wouldn’t want to intrude on you lovebirds,’ ace is a bit more audacious in his refusal, but at least, he refuses. 

‘oh, that’s a pity,’ you sigh, ‘we’ll see you both around then?’

‘yup, we’ll perform for sdc later, you should come to support us!’ ace replies readily. it almost makes riddle wonder if he has been holding that back the whole time.

‘it would be great to have another rooting for our team,’ deuce adds, ‘hope we’ll see the both of you there.’

‘of course,’ riddle answers, ‘i’m your housewarden and a student of night raven college, it’s only prudent that i come to support your performance.’

‘we’ll both be rooting for you!’ you chirp happily.

even after the boys left, the cheer continues to remain on your face. ‘you seem happy,’ riddle points out as he heads back to the table with you.

‘of course, i get to be here with you and…’ you tap the side of your chin, musing, ‘it’s nice to see you making friends, even if they seem peculiar.’

‘well, they do keep our dorm lively,’ riddle says diplomatically, ‘i still struggle with reminding them of the queen’s rules. for example, the other day when i was—‘

‘here’s your order.’

a student interrupts him by placing down the previous food the two of you have bought. you answer the boy with an amicable thank you before he left. when you look back at riddle with an anticipating gaze, riddle suddenly finds that he no longer has any desire to rant about the misbehaviours of his underclassman.

he reaches for your hand and presses gentle kisses on your knuckles, ‘i’m glad you’re here,’ he says, ‘i know there’s still a lot we need to talk about but…’

you lean forward to kiss his nose, and the hand he holds reaches up to cup his face, ‘we don’t have to do that now. let’s just be with each other, you can tell me when you’re ready.’

‘thank you,’ he kisses your palm, filled with unspoken affection. you share the same sentiment, he can see it in the warmth of your eyes. 

everything hasn’t been easy, and maybe it never will be. but at least, riddle knows he has you. and you have him, always.

[acourtofinkandpapyrus]

A Flower With Petals of Flame: Part nine (Eris x reader)

Warnings: A little angst

Part eight Part ten

Tag list: open

Your brother refuses to tell you anything, so you make other plans...

It’s been a week, and I still have no answers.

I was getting agitated.  Everytime I tried to pry answers out of Rhysand, he disappeared.  He wouldn’t acknowledge what Elain said about him knowing things, and that only made me more suspicious.

After another wonderful breakfast, I made to find Rhysand before it got late.

Nobody, not even Cassian to my suprise, has offered to help train me.  It was obvious the Archon sisters, except Elain, were receiving training.

Though, they were still thinking of how I was before I died.

That girl was soft, weak.  She dreamed about being stronger, but when she brought it up to her father, he had dumped her into the Illerian mountains in a sundress for a week.

I don’t know what he thought would happen to me, but that’s when I actually started to learn how to be strong, and to hide my true nature.

Why didn’t I tell Rhysand about this?  Well, because my father was still my father.

And for some damned reason I still hadn’t wanted to see him hurt.

“Rhys, can’t you just… tell her?  Feyre’s whispered words came from a cracked door.

I froze, then I sidled over behind the door so I could hear them better.

“She’s my little sister.  She doesn’t know how to handle any of this, she doesn’t even know why she’s here.”  Rhysand said, his voice high strung.

He was hiding things from me.

Of course he was, I knew he had been.

It still hurts.

“Rhys, even if she’s not ready, you have to start letting her in, help her be ready.  Like you did with me.”  She says, her voice firm, but caring.

“I can’t lose her again.”  He whispered.

He really didn’t know me at all, did he?  I thought sadly as I walked away.

Maybe I’d tell him someday.

But not today.

Today, I was going to find my friend, and figure out another way to solve this damned mystery.

I sat against the tree, I snarled while I spoke, “I can’t tell him what I’m like now, not yet.  I have to solve this whole people falling back into life problem before I can even begin to address that problem”

Eris nodded, leaning against another tree.  “And why, exactly, can’t you tell him yet?”

I placed my face in my hands, my speech muffled, “Because I have absolutely no idea how he’ll react.”

Eris made a sound of thought.  “Well, you’re lucky I’ve already been looking into this.”  He said, a little bit smug.

I lifted my head, unable to hide my smile as he winked at me.

“The only problem is that it requires us to break into one of the most heavily trapped tombs in Prythian.”  He said, grimacing a little now.

I looked at him through my lashes, head tilted down a bit.  “I don’t call that a problem.”

[mad-c1oud]

perhaps a “Don’t freak out, please” from the injury prompts list for karaoke duo :3 only if you want ofc

KARAOKEDUO LETS GOOOOO

yes yes yes YES Went a completely different route (This isn't really an injury but uh you'll see) for fun and man, wanted to turn this one into a full oneshot but alas- kept it short for the sake of practice but who knows, this one was fun.

Thank you for the ask anon!!!!!

+++++

“Don’t freak out, please.”

Charlie feels a little hysterical at how calm Baghera is right now with all— this. “Don’t freak out? I’m not freaking out I am so completely and utterly calm right now.”

“Good!” She cheers, “It isn’t a big deal, right? We’ll be okay.” Baghera says happily as she’s actively melting into the ground, limbs turning a translucent yellow as her bones start poking out of what was always solid skin. Charlie whimpers a little at the sight, unable to acknowledge the new appendages at his back or along the side of his face. He can’t even talk about the fact that his bones are firmly in place. What he would give to pull a rib or three out in stress right now.

“Is slime like come. Or the feeling of breast milk? What if it was?”

“Baghera.” Charlie doesn’t even know how to continue that or even begin to reply, “You’re a piss-yellow more than anything. Go that direction, at least.”

The pile of goop bubbles and gurgles happily and holy fuck this is weird, knowing she’s laughing, amused and silly silly silly, but not being about to understand anything else than surface-level emotions. Something bubbles up in his own throat and he has to swallow it, panicked. The pile of lemon jello ripples happily and Charlie desperately needs someone more adult than them here. Phil. Where is Philza Minecraft. He can fix this switch-a-roo they’re stuck in.

“Were you going to chirp? You swallowed like you were going to chirp, Charlie.”

“Stop watching me swallow, you’re weird.”

Baghera sounds too delighted when she talks back, “Not until you chirp. Oh! Maybe you can fly! You are not a duck, but you still have w-“

Charlie groans loudly, “Don’t say it. Don’t.”

The pile of Baghera stays quiet and Charlie worries she lost her voice box in the mess of bones and organs, but he’s not that lucky. The mound bubbles.

“Your wings look like they belong to a little bird, like a hummingbird or a green bee-eater-”

“Baghera Jones what did I just-”

It’s fine. This is all fine. The wings at his back flutter anxiously and the ones at his temple keep trying to block his face like they want to protect him. Charlie wants to throw himself off of cliff to see if he can fly or just to die in general, but he has no idea how avian hybrids work. There’s no time for tests when his best friend is becoming one with the ground, also.

“Okay, enough goofing, it’s bucket time, Jones.”

“Oh, I have never had bucket time, I’m so excited! How many will it take? Can we bring my bones, please?”

Despite the situation they’ve found themselves in, Charlie smiles hard enough for it to hurt. He’s happy Baghera is here with him.

“At least five buckets. And of course, we can bring your bones.”

Her happy chittering doesn’t stop the entire trip it takes to find another islander to help them. And if Charlie lets out a few accidental chirps and trills too, there’s only one other person around to hear, and he’ll never mind that it’s Baghera.

[showtoonzfan]

—⚠️SPOILERS FOR THE LEAKED CLONE HIGH EPISODE!!! ⚠️—

Okay time to rant about the Clone high episode but in a way some of y’all aren’t expecting. This is just me but some people are painting the leaked new episode of Clone High to be WAAAY worse than it actually is. Like…good god some of y’all are overreacting, I’ve even seen people compare it to freaking Velma like GOD no. While I personally enjoyed the episode, I can see why people may not like it. A lot of people are bummed about Ghandi, the cancel culture stuff, and maybe the comedy, though for the comedy it’s mostly a hit or miss, but for me it was a hit. As for the Cancel culture stuff, it didn’t piss me off like a lot of people are because I honestly expected this. Clone high has always been known to poke fun at whatever was going on in the world at the time, so like…yeah of course they’d do an episode regarding that, and I personally liked the idea of a fish out of water concept since the clones have been frozen for 20 years. Some people were saying that Abe felt out of character and OOC, but honestly? Abe’s character has always been that he’s a stubborn loser who constantly gets into trouble, so him getting cancelled and fucking up everything he’s saying felt in character for me, it was one of the reasons I liked it so much because everyone felt in character, even if you could argue it wasn’t as good. I will say that Abe saying slurs felt incredibly forced to fit the plot, but he’s still a loser like he was in the original so I can’t be mad about it yet. I certainly wouldn’t call the episode perfect, but I overall enjoyed it.

The only two issues I had was Joan and JFK. These personal issues was more of a nitpick, but I was expecting…I dunno, more out them? Don’t get me wrong, I was a huge shipper of the two and I’m happy they’re together, but at the same time I find it weird that they’re both….okay with being a couple. I was surprised that Joan was 100% on board, I’d predicted that she would act like the night they spent together was a “one time thing” and that she needed to figure things out. The beginning of the episode even hints at the drama, but there was really no drama around the love triangle at all, aside from Abe moping. It just…felt like kind of a let down, but I think that’s just me because I was expecting more or something really big to kick off immediately. Joan as a whole however in this episode felt …..off to me, but I can’t really explain it. She just felt….off, like kinda out of character? I dunno I was expecting her to be against the popular kids since her character in the show was more being on “the good side” of things, like I would think she would go “I don’t need to be popular”- but she wasn’t bad or anything. I was always expecting her to be annoyed by JFK’s entire vulgar personality but she seemed to have no mind. As for JFK himself, I was surprised he wanted Joan to be his girlfriend, since he was known for being the ultimate fuck boy, going from one woman to the next. I had really hoped that their relationship would be more of a slow burn, rather than them getting together immediately in the very first episode, since JFK still has a lot to learn about relationships. The scene they shared outside of the prom to me opened a new door for a good character arc and relationship exploration, it was the scene that made me ship them, because there was so much potential for them to become a really good couple, so now that they just start off immediately being one, it felt VERY underwhelming to me. However, this is still the first episode, so for now I’ll wait to see what the writers do with these two. I could care less about Abe moping because all my homies hate Abe, but not in a bad way per say, to me, he’s enjoyable to watch, but we acknowledge that he’s a loser lol.

Meanwhile, Scudworth is the same, he’s hilarious as always and I get a kick out of watching him, and introducing a female boss who he has fallen in love with solely because she’s trying to kill him is funny to me. I have no idea if she’ll legitimately be a love interest or not, again we’ll have to see, but I will say that these new board of shadowy figures ain’t it. I miss the old iconic guys, particularly the main one with the soothing voice because he was iconic and funny. I guess it makes sense on why Scudworth didn’t unfreeze them since they had planned to kill him and take the clones away, but I do miss them and it kinda is a downgrade. Then there’s Ghandi, who we all miss but for the people demanding that he be brought back and that the show isn’t the same without him, y’all need to chill because I highly doubt this is in the creators control. I’m pretty sure if it was, Ghandi would be in the show, but they were kinda forced to take him out due to the controversy, so despite me missing him, I can see why it had to be done, and I don’t blame the show itself. As for the new clones and characters, I’ll have to get used to them and warm up to them, but I certainly wouldn’t call any of them “bad”. Again, this is merely the first episode, and unlike the majority of people on twitter right now, I want to give the show a chance and see how this all plays out until I say it’s “god awful” or act like it’s the worst thing in the world. I will say this however, to the people complaining about the gore and even the comedy style, do y’all know what show you’re watching? Like…this is Clone HIGH lol, I expected most of this to happen since I saw the original show, so I will be honest and say I don’t 100% know why everyone is so pressed about it. I get that people are maybe bummed about the whole “cancel culture” thing since nobody likes that, so I can see why but like I said, this is what Clone High is known for so I wasn’t taken aback.

With all that said, I’m 100% confident about the show and have high positive hopes for it. To me, the show hasn’t changed at all, the spirit of the original is still there, the characters for the most part still feel the same, and so does the humor. I think it’s way too early (LITERALLY since this got leaked) to say that the show shouldn’t have been rebooted or the show in general isn’t good and will be a lost cause. For now I think we’re off to a pretty okay start, and I’ll have to see more in the future to see where things go before I can say my full opinions on wether I think it’s good or not. Keep in mind these are all MY personal opinions on the show so far. Fill free to disagree with me. We all need to keep in mind that there’s always room for improvement however, because I will admit that I think it’s unfair that a lot of people are already saying the show is going to suck. We have no idea yet and we’ll just have to wait and see. Thank you for reading, and I personally can’t wait to see more Clone High!

[cdyssey]

MY DREAM “MOM” SCENARIO:

It’s close to Mother’s Day at Abbott Elementary, and the school has a brunch where students’ moms/grandmothers/female guardians can come and have a meal with their kids.

Mother’s Day is always painful for Janine.

Of course it is.

Still, she invites her own mom anyway.

Because of course she does.

She has always dreamed that her mother will miraculously take an interest in her job, or, well, literally anything else about her life one day. And when she finally wheedles a yes out of her mom that we either see via text or through a one-sided phone call, our protagonist is so unbelievably happy. She’d never thought her pleas would get this far.

(They never have before.)

And so she brags about it to literally everyone in the teacher’s lounge. Her mom is coming! You guys get to meet my mom! Isn’t that cool? Some teachers are genuinely happy for her. Others, remembering Janine’s various (and often disturbing) anecdotes about her childhood, frown in gentle concern.

(They can already see where this is heading.)

(The writing’s there on the wall.)

And yeah, it absolutely heads there.

Brunch comes, the analog clock on the wall ticks down, but Mrs. Teagues doesn’t show up. (She was never going to show up.) Janine’s optimism holds out ‘til the very last minute until she can’t reasonably cling to it anymore. Her mom isn’t coming. Surprise, surprise. She should have expected it.

She’s learned to never expect anything kind and decent from her mother.

And just as she’s about to hastily swipe away a tear away, just as her shield of a bright smile begins to crumble and crack into a million brittle pieces, a well-manicured hand lands on her shoulder, interrupting her total dissolution. She spins around and sees Barbara Howard there, smiling warmly and so gently.

So maternally.

“Listen, Janine, brunch isn’t over yet—how about you come and join Melissa and I for some tea and cake?”

“What?” Janine flushes immediately, twisting her hands together in front of her stomach. “Really? You mean it?”

Barbara and Melissa never allow anyone to sit with them, not even when they’re on lunch duty in the cafeteria and the round table at the head of the hall is meant for all teachers to share.

Screw everyone else.

Their space is sacred, and Janine has implicitly understood this since her very first day at Abbott Elementary. She’s admired their consummate closeness. She’s sometimes even been a little jealous of it—the way that they’re clearly set apart from the world, just the two of them together.

“Yes, really,” Barbara laughs because she knows this is thoroughly uncharted territory too. “But hurry. Melissa’s getting antsy because you haven’t eaten.”

“She noticed that?”

“We both did, sweetheart. Now quit questioning us and hurry along—we’ve saved a seat for you.”

And Janine feels the magnitude of this moment deeply, the profound gravity of what her beloved mentors are offering her.

Care.

Affection.

Mothering.

Because that’s clearly what they’re doing.

Barbara and Melissa are mothering her.

(She has always wanted to be mothered.)

(She and Ayesha have had to fight for scraps from their mother from the very start.)

She can’t exactly help herself then. She sniffs rather noisily. A tear leaks, unbidden and desperately unwanted, from the corner of her eye, and Barbara, without missing a beat, glances away long enough for Janine to take care of it.

“I’m sorry that she didn’t come,” she acknowledges gently, wrapping an arm around Janine’s shoulders. And she starts to steer her in the direction of Melissa and her crooked smile.

Melissa and the comically large slice of chocolate cake she’s holding up.

Melissa and the way she knows how to love best—through sharing food.

“Yeah, well, maybe things worked out the way they’re supposed to,” she returns, her voice a thousand emotions thick. She’s barely conscious of putting one foot in front of the other.

But she doesn’t particularly have to be graceful.

Not when Barbara’s here.

Not when Barbara’s got her.

Barbara’s hands are sturdy and practiced; they won’t let her go.

Janine leans into the kindergarten teacher’s embrace then—maybe a little too desperately to be allowed—but to her aching relief, it isn’t held against her.

That her innermost desire is to be unconditionally loved.

[ohem1111]

no one acknowledged roslyn’s birthday, not even her mother, the one who gave birth to her on that very day all those years ago.

during eden’s little 4am trip downstairs for something to satisfy her pregnancy craving she notices roslyn sleeping outside. in that moment she is furious, storms out and wakes her up.

eden: “roslyn ivy elmore what do you think you are doing out side at this hour, and sleeping even, you are going to get sick and i can’t have that around me right now”

roslyn: “mom, i-”

eden: “get to your room i don’t want to hear it”

roslyn: “no mom, you will hear it, whether you listen or not, you will hear me. you wanna know why i’m out here? aside from the fact that i literally sit out here to watch the sunrise every morning, not that you’ve ever cared or noticed.”

eden: “roslyn don’t y-”

roslyn: “mom i am out here right now instead of in my own bed is because i’m letting bram sleep there. because guess what, you never bought him a new bed that he can actually sleep in.” eden’s face instantly realizes how greatly she has been neglecting her own children lately.

roslyn: “maybe if you’d take a break from popping out kids, you would be able to pay attention to the ones you already have. and you don’t have to keep pretending we don’t know mom. we know you are pregnant again right now.”

eden: “ros… i don’t know what to say”

roslyn: “you could try ‘happy birthday’ but you’d be approximately 4 hours and 53 minutes to late for that to still be accurate.”

eden: “we were waiting for the right time to tell you.”

roslyn: “right time to tell me what?! that you are pregnant? why do you think i care that much, it’s barely even anything knew at this point. could you even tell me any of your other kids birthdays or is it just mine that you forget.”

eden: she stands up defeated, and says something roslyn would have bever guessed she’d hear next, “come inside i’ll have the butler put together the guest room” not an ‘i’m sorry.’ not a ‘happy birthday.’ not even that she would be the one to get the guest room together for herself. she didn’t even use the butlers name.

roslyn: “i already told you, i am watching the sunrise”

eden walks back into the house without another second of time put into trying to righting all of the wrongs that we’re just addressed during their fight.

as eden watched the late night sky beginning to slowly fade into early morning she sends up a signal to space for anyone, anything to take her away from this nightmare she is in.

who knows, maybe the stars will do more than just listen this time.

previous || next

i wish that tumblr had more text color options because i’m bummed that i won’t be able to have a special text colors for the next two gens. also surprise, we are about to start gen 4!

also also: im mad at myself for not checking mccc occult section for what ages could be abducted, (because of course that is something you can change with mccc) i wanted to do it while she was a child but i assumed that because teens could attempt to contact aliens then she could possibly get abducted but i was wrong there too, the default is only young adults and up so if you are doing this challenge, i recommend editing that setting before you unnecessarily age up your sim like i did LOL

also also alsoooo: (also is basically my ps. at this point lol) eden is basically done with her gen. all she needs to do is keep having babies until she is an elder which i don’t care to stay in the household until she is an elder, and she can get married now that she is an adult. her and dorian were already engaged by accident because dorian called odin when he was a child saying he found a ring in eden’s bag and asked odin what to say but i didn’t know that saying he should say yes would automatically make them engaged LOL so i don’t even have screenshots of that. i’ll just have them elope eventually, i don’t care to do a wedding with them.

[loosingmoreletters]

would you happen to have any recs for gender fuckery fic featuring lwj rather than wwx?

Not as much because I tend to prefer to toss the genderqueer experience at WWX, but I do have some lovely queer LWJ fic recs, be that as a trans, gender swap or just something undefinable.

you can always find me here by ScarlettStorm

Wei Wuxian doesn’t know how they got here sometimes.

Okay, like, yes, she knows how they got here (this village, this town, this forest, this city), and she knows how they got here (riding on a horrible donkey she’s decided she can’t bear to part with, Lan Zhan walking beside her leading said donkey by the reins, because of course Wei Wuxian’s donkey likes Lan Zhan more than her. She can’t blame Lil’ Apple! She also likes Lan Zhan more than she likes herself!), but it’s how she got here in the larger metaphysical sense that she doesn’t understand. There were thirteen years where she wasn’t here, after all, and very many places in the past year where she could have ended up not here again, but somehow she’s here, and—miracle of miracles—so is Lan Zhan.

Really, it’s the Lan Zhan part that she still struggles to understand.

Or: The inevitable post-canon get together... But make it extra queer lesbians.

brittle bones by lithali

Wei Wuxian dies in Xuanwu's Cave.

That changes things.

mirror, mirror by hauntedotamatone

Some people take him at his word, believing that they must have heard wrong about the child Jiang Fengmian had taken in all those years ago. They haven’t exactly heard wrong, but he isn’t lying either.

The first time Jiang-shushu had introduced him as the son of Wei Changze and Cangse Sanren, he had thought his face would split from the force of his smile. No one had argued with the sect leader, but Wei Wuxian is not a sect leader, and those of Gusu Lan do not seem to take kindly to any sort of correction. At least, if their esteemed teacher and acting sect leader is anything to go by.

or; Wei Wuxian attempts to sneak into the Cloud Recesses for a very different reason.

The Naming of Small Things by BromeliadDreams

Lan Wangji has known all his life that he is destined for some book-lined office, for publication credits and funding awards, the grown-up versions of school prizes for academic achievement. The prospect has, for the most part, been comforting. But as the academic year wears on, he finds his work increasingly taking a backseat to Wen Qing's plans to unseat, or at least unsettle, their Head of Faculty, and Lan Wangji begins to look beyond the library walls. (Any influence from local chaos gremlin Wei Wuxian will not be acknowledged at this time, thank you very much.)

Or: maybe the real academic networking was all the groupchats we were added to along the way.

A Promise Lives Within You Now by ElvenQueens

When Lan Wangji left the cave of the Xuanwu of slaughter and returned to her sect, she knew that the world as she knew it had come to a breaking point, she just didn't know the changes it would entail. When she left the Xuanwu cave, she and Wei Ying were still girls, but in the face of war and the devastation and destruction it wrought, they had been forced to grow up faster than they should and take on roles earlier than they had planned. If there is one thing these lessons have taught her, it is that sometimes one needs to stop and offer a helping hand.

conspecific sisters we by wildwestwind

Lan Wangji grows up trans in a society which has no words for her experiences.

a heroine that is called devil by SpeedingCheetah

The Yiling Patriarch was a woman, and she bared her teeth to every man to come and beg for her help in the midst of a campaign deigned to fail. Coming to the war with skin exposed and her neck open for any blade to cut, the matriarch asked for one thing for her payment of the war: the blood of an heir written across her chest as a promise.

(or: two cultivators come to face one another under a blood red moon, in the middle of the war of their lifetimes.)

The Amber Hairpin by may10baby

Lan Zhan took a moment to unwrap the delicate paper patterned with clouds. Inside was a silver hairpin, an amber stone nestled in the end, limbs of silver delicately wrapped around it, etched in a floral design. It was beautiful and very expensive for a servant’s son. She looked up at Wei Ying in question, who blushed.

“When I wrote to my parents about jiejie, I mentioned how pretty jiejie’s eyes were, so my parents sent back the amber? Apparently, they were offered it as a gift for helping with a night hunt years ago and the uncle and auntie in the night market offered to make it into a hairpin if I spent the past few weeks helping out at the store and-”

Lan Zhan calmly slipped the hairpin into her hair, before grabbing Wei Ying by the arm and yanking him inside the Jingshi.

fateful shipwreck, suspended time by dottie_dramas (dottie_wan_kenobi)

Once, when Lan Wangji is thirteen years old, he finds himself in his brother’s office.

It’s not a particularly comfortable place for Lan Wangji, but it’s better than most. On this day, it provides what Lan Wangji needs—privacy. Structure. And most importantly, his brother.

“Wangji, you don’t have to ask for a formal meeting just to see me,” Xiongzhang says, both amused and curious as Lan Wangji kneels down in front of him. Holding his brush steady, Lan Xichen smiles kindly. “I am at my didi’s disposal whenever he should have need of me.”

---

3 moments in Lan Wangji's queer journey; coming out, falling in love, and accepting a part of himself

This is for my mother, and this is for me by LuxRoyalty (luxroyalty)

Rules are important, and you should listen to them, but somethings are more important still,” Madam Lan easily said, like it wasn’t blasphemy against the Wall of Discipline that her uncle had been careful to teach her. “I want you to be safe, A-Zhan, above everything else. Do you understand?”

She thought about it, forehead creasing, and eventually shook her head. “No.” she told her, and her mother didn’t scold her like some of her teachers did.

“That’s alright,” her mother softly said, “you can learn. Just you, A-Huan won’t need to understand this, and you can’t tell him, or anyone else.”

“Or I won’t be safe?” she asked, trying to figure out the path of logic.

Madam Lan smiled gently, “close. Sometimes, last measures need to be secret to work the best.”

Lan Zhan is born female. This changes things, but more things stay the same.

flowers from ash by hauntedotamatone

There is the matter of a certain individual.” “That Wei Ying from YunmengJiang.”

A protracted Sunshot campaign spanning six years ends in a victory hardly worth the cost. With the former Five Great Sects whittled down to three, two of which have been devastated, the Jin Sect seeks to hang itself up in the place of the sun.

The first step in their climb to power is to get the woman who killed Wen Ruohan from within his own palace well out of the way. Lan Zhan is not someone who schemes, but she cannot allow Wei Ying to meet such a fate.

That she has loved her since they were fifteen is secondary.

[thesolemnhour]

♠: One character adjusting the other’s jewelry/neck tie/ etc. 😈😈😈

Thank you so much for sending this in, spyri!! I really had fun with this one!

Surprising no one, Ygefeles, son of Baphomet, had not had pure intentions when he called to his grandson after all. All the same, Agria is bitterly disappointed: Woljif deserves a grandfather, not another pale imitation of real family.

Still, it’s not all bad. In his infinite kindness, Woljif has opened season on the bastard’s stuffy old mansion. As it turns out, the place is marvelously stuffed with valuables. It’s almost too much to manage, but Agria’s beloved kettle of vultures is finding a way. Turning a corner into yet another cavernous wing of the house, she quickly spies a fresh chest her friends have yet to raid. She tries to pry it open once, but she is calling over her shoulder before the attempt is even complete.

“Woljif! Come help me with this!”

Popping his head out from behind the door far sooner than she expected, he answers with a salute, “At your service, chief!”

Smiling back at him, she shifts over to give him space. It’s the first time they’ve been alone since they arrived, she realizes. Uncharacteristically, she stares at him pensively for a moment, trying to think of exactly what she wants to say to him. Unsure, she looks him in the eye and begins, “I wanted to tell you… I’m sorry it ended up this way. Ygefeles wasn’t being sincere, but that doesn’t mean that you didn’t deserve for him to be. His being a dud doesn’t say anything about you.”

Counter to her hopes, he laughs out loud. “A dud? I’ll have you know he was an enterprisin’ sorta demon.”

“That was the problem!” She says with an exaggerated scowl.

He carries on as though she had said nothing, “Y’know, maybe that’s where I get some of my best qualities!” 

He’s joking, of course, but regret twists in her gut again like a vice.

“No,” she says softly.

The moment draws on, but neither of them looks away. Woljif’s smile turns bashful as he last last breaks his gaze. “See if I treat your kin like this.”

“If my aunt ever tries to cave in your skull with a cleaver, I promise to defer to your judgment.” Woljif chuckles, but he eyes the spot on her head nervously. This close, she imagines he can see the blood drying to her forehead under her hair. “Oh, stop that! You should see the other guy.”

“I can’t! He’s dust now!” 

Agria preens, flipping her hair theatrically over her shoulder—it had been an excellent disintegration spell.

“He was a dud.” Woljif acknowledges as he opens the chest, bumping his shoulder gently against hers. Agria bites the inside of her cheeks to smother a grin. Pushing a loose curl out of her eyes, she leans over the edge of the chest to find… clothes? 

Not just clothes, she realizes. Ygefeles has collected perhaps the most ridiculous feathered hat she has ever seen in all her life. Agria exclaims in delight, checking the hat for curses only for a half-second, before placing it firmly on her head. Schooling herself into her most stone-faced expression, she turns her head back to him. He holds out for even less time that she had before his shoulders, too, begin to shake with laughter.

Squeezing his shoulder, she turns back to the chest’s contents, still giggling lightly. She lifts one of the shirts free and presses it to his chest the instant she senses the enchantments. The Wandering Conman. “This one is definitely for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” He chortles, catching it as she pulls her hand away. “Does it match my eyes?”

Agria hums, still rifling through garments, “Yes, but you don’t need it. You always look handsome.” How she relishes his quiet gasp.

For a moment, though, he doesn’t respond. She waits for his recovery, but when it doesn��t come, she lifts her head to search his face. His features are pinched; there is something he wants to say.

“If I had decided I wanted the power… What would you have done?”

“If you’d wanted to take your place as demon prince of the Abyss? I suppose I would have supported you… in that,” she explains, nose scrunched in thought. “It just didn’t seem like you. You don’t even like demons!”

“Nobody likes demons, chief. Not even other demons.”

“No,” she agrees, “but that’s not why you turned it down. Why you stayed with me.”

Just as quietly as before, he answers, “No.”

“And?” She asks and as she tilts her head inquisitively, she feels her absurd feathered cap tilt off-axis. 

“And…” He starts, pinching the hat by its long brim and shifting it back onto the crown of her head, “there’s no place I’d rather be.”

[boundlesshart]

Mitama does not often rise with the sun. It takes particularly exceptional circumstances to motivate such a result, or so many naps that she somehow manages to derail her sleep schedule back to normal. This day was one of the rarer cases of the former.

She makes sure to stay quiet as she reopens the door to Claude’s room. She knows Claude likes to meditate in the morning before starting his day, and she does not want to interrupt him. When instead of an interruption, she ends up catching his eyes as she peeks into his room, she smiles. “Good morning.”

The door is still closed behind her just as quietly to not draw attention. The gifts she comes back with are not subtly hidden at all, so she does not bother with making any attempt at hiding them either.

“I expect that our very important boss man of a leader might find his attention sought after on the day of his birth.” She holds out the first and much simpler gift, a still warm cup of coffee that she had made her way down to the dining hall to fetch for him. “I do not expect that I might have all your time, but I thought a moment before the vultures swarm might be a good start?”

When he takes the cup, she sits on the edge of his bed. That leaves her second gift, which she is far more proud of. “I made you this.” A book, handwritten and charmed to last. The book is a copy of one she owns, the only difference being that this one contains both Hoshidan poetry, and a translation of each poem for him to be able to read himself. “There are also explanations and details of interpretations in the second half of the book, so that you might read them and come up with your own at first without consulting.”

On the inside cover, a green leaf is pressed between pages. Neatly underneath it, what should be a familiar hand has scrawled; Leaf from the battle / still standing , still surviving / until back to you.

Mitama wishes she had the free hands to bring a cup of her own to fiddle with. “Happy birthday, Claude.”

Stirring in the bed rouses Claude from his sleep—he’s a light sleeper, he can’t help it. Through bleary eyes he can tell the sun is just beginning to rise… so Mitama getting up right now is definitely weird. Claude keeps his eyes closed and breathing slow until he hears the door close (softly, of course). “Huh,” he yawns. Mitama, not just awake but up, at an “ungodly” hour of the morning? Unheard of. Unprecedented! And not even a word of goodbye to the poor birthday boy…

Not a moment too soon, the door opens once again; Mitama with her hands full. "Oh, mornin'." The warm scent of freshly-brewed coffee already perks him up.

"Why, because of my birthday?" Well, Mitama’s instincts are right; birthdays are a good excuse to try cozying up with someone, as politicking nobles usually do. Here, though, the day’s usually quiet, with only a few people stopping him here and there with well wishes. "Take all the moments you want. Today's just another day."

Claude gladly takes the cup, eager to free Mitama's hands and see what she brought for him. Sure, some people only acknowledge his birthday just to be polite... but a part of him is still giddy to see someone go out of their way to celebrate him of all people.

Claude plays it cool, of course, tempering his excitement as Mitama presents him with his present. A book! He's careful not to spill his coffee over it as he sets it aside. "Made it?" Claude echoes. He flips through the pages. Eyes widen, "That, that's your handwriting—wait, so, you're serious? You actually made it?"

For once, Claude is speechless as he continues to turn through the paces, marveling meticulously-copied haiku penned by Mitama's own hand. Eventually he comes to a leaf pressed between pages like a bookmark. After reading the poem besides it, he's at a loss for words.

"..." Maybe it's the result of growing up as a prince among nobility, but Claude has never received anything like this before. A gift handmade by the person who bought to, rather than bought or commissioned through someone else. Honestly, his heart is beginning to stir. Like he's getting... emotional? It's not like him, and yet...

Claude turns to Mitama. Then, he pulls her into a tight hug and presses a kiss against her temple. "I love it." Because you made it just for me. Knowing how adverse she usually is to extraneous effort, to see that she went out of her way to make this for him... "I don't think anything else I get today is gonna top this," he teases.

[seeyouafter]

SYA Extended Notes Ch. 39-44

Or: Acceptance and healing - some thoughts on Shouto's post-war journey

Notes for "See You After" Chapter 44: August 2: Shouto's Journal - Unsent Letter

I can’t forget what happened but maybe someday I’ll be able to forgive you so that I can put all of it behind me and move on. I don’t know what that means for us or for our family, but I hope that someday I’ll be able to show you that I’m proud of who I’ve become in spite of everything you did.

I originally started typing this up to post with chapter 39 but decided to wait until after this chapter, and Shouto's unsent letter, to share my thoughts on how I imagine he and his family might begin to navigate the healing process.

In essence, I think that a post-war arc for Shouto involves him taking the time to process the things he went through and to decide for himself what he wants to do going forward.

This fic inevitably contains my personal headcanons of what Shouto's healing journey might involve after the war ends. Of course, there are as many interpretations of what "should" happen next as there are readers, but these are a few of my thoughts in relation to "See You After" so far.

Acceptance is the first step

I talked a bit about this in the extended notes for Chapters 10-11, but up until this point, I really don't think Shouto saw what Endeavor did to him as abuse. Even if he knew it on an intellectual level, he probably didn't want to accept it for various reasons. Although he did acknowledge that what his father did to his mom was abuse, when he expresses his anger toward his father, it's always framed around what he did to his mom (and later Touya).

BNHA 192: The Todoroki Family & 249: The Hellish Todoroki Family

One of those reasons probably has something to do with the way Touya revealed Endeavor's abuse of his family, specifically Shouto, very publicly and out of spite toward their father.

BNHA 291: Thanks for Going Strong

Shouto never had a say in the matter and Touya didn't do him any favors. Rather than viewing him with sympathy for being a victim, the public views him with suspicion because of his blood ties to a mass murderer and an abuser. Of course, that's not fair, but that's the cultural context of the society they're living in.

BNHA 325: The Bonds of One for All & BNHA 327: Rest

Guilt, Blame, and Responsibility

Shouto has been the one carrying the burden of his father's mistakes for his entire life, but even moreso since Touya reappeared. Unlike Touya, he blames his father completely, but I don't think Touya is entirely wrong when he says that Rei is guilty too. She's a victim, of course, and most of it was beyond her control, but she agreed to the marriage, knowing what it was. Moreover, it is a parent's responsibility to take care of their children, and she wasn't able to do that. Even though it wasn't her intention and Shouto refuses to blame her for hurting him, there's still a lot to unpack and a lot of trust that needs to be rebuilt.

BNHA 249: The Hellish Todoroki Family & BNHA 302: The wrong way to put out a fire, part 2

Natsuo and Fuyumi's guilt about not being able to do anything was realistic and understandable, but they were also children and it wasn't their responsibility to fix everything, which makes their experiences heartbreaking in a different way. There's a lot for all of them to reconcile on their own and as a family.

Rei showing up at the hospital and meeting Endeavor face to face again took a great deal of courage, and I don't think we can fault her for the things she says. Although it shouldn't be any of the children's responsibility, they do all have to deal with the fallout, which I think was the point she was trying to make here. But once again, the burden fell on Shouto to be their family's hero.

Shouto believes that he has to be strong because he's a hero. And while that's admirable, that mindset is part of the larger problem. So far in canon, we've mostly seen Shouto protecting his mom, not the other way around. And that's part of his character, his foundation as a hero - the way he had the instinct to protect when he was just a child, and his decision to take the first step after the sports festival to reach out and save her.

But it still kills me that their reunion scene in the hospital post PLF war was skipped over just so there could be a big reveal when the family went to confront Enji.

BNHA 298: Sounds of Collapse & BNHA 300: The Hellish Todoroki Family, Part 2

In this scene, Shouto had his hand on Rei's back to support her, meanwhile not once do we see him get a hug or any comforting touch from any of the people who should be there to support him. (A lot of Chapter 39 of "See You After" came from my desire for just that)

Identity and the choice to become a hero

BNHA 39: Todoroki Shouto: Origin

Shouto's fight with Izuku during the sports festival was the start of him reclaiming his identity as his own person, separate from his father, and reaffirming his desire to become a hero on his own terms. Still, the fact that he never really had the choice to try to be anything else is something to consider, especially as we see the rest of the world question the role of heroes and the overall system.

Names are important

BNHA 45: Time to pick some names (+anime ep. 26)

I really love the symbolism of Shouto's hero name. By using his real name, he's essentially refusing to separate his identity as a hero from who he is as a person, which is important because of how he makes a clear distinction between Endeavor (the hero) and Enji (the father). But something that's often lost in translation is Shouto's choice to use the phonetic spelling: ショート instead of the kanji characters: 焦凍 (meaning to burn and to freeze), which I've always interpreted as a statement of his desire to exist as an individual beyond the context of his quirks.

It was hard to convey in this fic because I'm obviously writing it in English, but I wanted to make it clear that he signed the unsent letter as ショート because of what it symbolizes.

I feel like Shouto would probably have a complicated relationship with his given name because Endeavor valued him solely for his quirk. Meanwhile, "Todoroki" is a constant reminder of his family's legacy in the aftermath of Touya's broadcast.

I like to think that even before their conversation during the long phone call at the end of chapter 39, Katsuki understood this on some level. That's why in this fic, even though he rotates through a variety of nicknames (in their earlier letters, he uses a different one each time), he rarely calls Shouto by his last name, unless he's trying to make a point (like in his letter in Chapter 11 and the phone call in Chapter 19).

That's something I leaned into when I started writing the transition to them using each others' given names back during their text conversation in Chapter 36. (Originally, I thought it was going to happen quite a bit later in the story, but writing is a funny thing and characters sometimes have minds of their own.)

[the-whumpening]

I Still Burn, Part 3 [Son of Bat]

Prev | Masterpost | Next

———————————————————————

“Yeah, I believe in it / Bleed for it / Sacrifice it all for it”

CW: mention of medication, lil bit of self-loathing as usual, potential victim blaming

———————————————————————

Despite the migraines that stabbed behind his eyes, James was desperate to busy himself with something. He’d amassed a pile of books by the couch, trying and failing to read and work on his dissertation. Of course, he’d taken a leave of absence from class, but he was sure he could return soon, and he had to catch up.

He mumbled under his breath as he skimmed a passage in his psychology textbook. He’d never been a person who needed to read aloud to understand, but apparently that had changed after his head injury. A line towards the bottom of the page tripped him up, and he found himself reading it again and again to parse the meaning. Each pass seemed to be more and more jumbled; after the fifth try, he became furious.

With a vicious hurl, he pelted the book at the wall, missing his intended target of the window. His entire chest and arm screamed in pain, a wail of anguish pressing out of his diaphragm and echoing in the room. Molly and Eddie, both startled by the sound, ran to investigate.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Molly rushed to where he was grasping his shoulder, helping him hold his elbow in place.

“Nothing,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “I’m fine.” Even so, he panted heavily through his nose, doing his best to ignore the pain and let it pass.

Molly glared at him and laughed sarcastically. “Ha-ha, yeah, sure. Then why did you yell just now? And why are you holding your shoulder, smart guy?”

Eddie picked up the thick textbook from the floor. “Maybe it has something to do with this.”

“Ah, right—a textbook chucked ten feet away from you, not suspicious at all.” She lets go of James and turns to search the room. “Where are your pain meds?”

“I don’t”—James grunts, leaning back against the couch—“need any.”

She found the bottle, hidden under a stack of papers from the hospital. It was much fuller than it should have been. “Have you been skipping doses?”

Unable to look her in the eye, he set his jaw and kept his eyes low. “They make me too tired. I can’t get anything done.”

For the first time in their long friendship, Molly seemed genuinely angry. Her face flushed, and her voice rasped as she shouted, “Then fucking be tired! What the hell, James?! You’re supposed to be resting and taking things easy!” She paced in a tight line in front of him, her nostrils flaring as she tried to reign in her temper. “This—this! This stupid mentality! This is what got you in this mess to begin with!”

He knew she was right. When wasn’t she? And, truthfully, a part of him was grateful that someone had finally acknowledged what he’d been thinking since he first woke up: in some way or another, this was his fault. He hadn’t taken care of himself. He’d worked himself to the bone and forgone sleep for far too long. Something like this was bound to happen eventually. And yet . . . it still hurt to hear. Molly had been so kind, so patient, so gentle with him throughout his time in the hospital and dealing with the fallout. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d just been bottling up and sitting on this anger the whole time.

She interrupted his spiraling thoughts. “I love you, J. I don’t want to see you in pain. I’m not trying to blame you for what happened. But just . . . don’t be fucking stupid. Eddie’s gonna go get you a drink, and you’re gonna take your medicine. And I’m gonna check behind you and make sure you’re taking them—on time, as scheduled—until I can trust you again. And if you give me shit, I have no problem turning these pills into suppositories.”

Eddie returned with a Gatorade, and Molly gave James the pill. He took it without complaint, opening his mouth afterwards to prove he hadn’t hidden it. Molly patted his head and smirked.

“Good boy.”

His ears grew red at the comment, and he lamented that they were no longer covered by his hair. Everything was easier when he could hide behind his hair.

But as the medicine finally hit his system, he realized just how bad he’d let things get. The squeezing at his temples loosened, and he could take a deeper breath without his ribs screaming in protest. Even his sore shoulder dulled to a vague ache. It was as if a volume knob had been turned down over his whole body—not silent, not even necessarily quiet, but so much less ear-splitting than before. He could step down off the edge of the knife he didn’t even know he’d been standing on.

And, yeah, he was tired.

Molly half-smirked at his drooping eyelids. “Better, right?”

“Ah, fuck off,” he mumbled with a snort, sliding his injured legs up onto the sofa to lay down.

“Shh, it’s nap time.” She piled the blankets on top of him, loosely tucking them around his giant form. “I know it’s boring being stuck here and doing nothing, but seriously. Can you just be chill for a little bit?”

He grumbled from behind the blanket. “Fine. But I’m gonna complain.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

[branwendaughterofllyr]

branwen please share with us some more BNFs/JoLa tea ☕️ thank you kindly x

I’m probably going to regret this but I couldn’t resist lol.

I actually feel bad for a lot of the BNFs, including JoLa. The end of GoT wasn’t really fun for most of them, and most of them have left the fandom. JoLa has pretty much abandoned her tumblr, and good for her honestly. I think she’s a very silly, even over sensitive person, but she genuinely believed that she was going to be right. She hates being called a BNF and denies she ever was one, which is par for the course for her. She would alternate between denying she was invested in jonerys as a ship and commissioning jonerys fanart.

Her takes on Dany were honestly pretty hilarious in their tone deafness, which led to a lot of joking about her in my circle. She was really, really into Tyrion, which, uh, okay. The “curtain of light” theory has become pretty infamous now, and I cannot emphasize enough how seriously it was taken by some of the BNFs on tumblr. Big BNF poorquentyn (is he still around? Didn’t he convert to Jonsa at one point?) responded a lot to JoLa and nobodysuspectsthebutterfly back in the day.

I’ve screenshotted some of my favorite posts, most of which are from like 2015-2018.

I mean come on, Dany and Jon bang and have baby Drogo to save the world beyond the curtain of light? SPECTACULAR. I wish I was on those drugs.

And it’s amazing because on one hand I’m like “yes! The power of love as humanity’s greatest strength is a theme of ASOIAF!” And on the other hand I’m like “and where do Dany and Tyrion come into this at all????”

Beloved, read a single Sam chapter, I’m begging.

My personal favorite is how she justifies Dany ditching Meereen after she’s wrecked the place. Look, slavery was an inherently unsustainable system, and Dany did everyone a favor by wrecking everything and then flinching off.

Which, like yes, Dany did a good thing by trying to end slavery but also it’s a millennia old system??? It’s pretty stable, and Dany hasn’t really done a great job implementing change, and things are going to be way worse after she leaves, and any positive changes aren’t going to come at her hands. (and also has she really ended slavery? really, really?)

The Titanic comparison????? AMAZING. 

Dany is the lifeboat come to save the entire world. 

The best part is by far the tags

NEVER SAY THE BNFS DIDN’T GIVE US ANYTHING.

I loved these tags so much that one of the lovelies on the Jonsa discord made me this back in the day.

SHE’s SHOOTING STAR<3

THERE ONE MOMENT, GONE THE NEXT BUT FOREVER WONDEROUS TO BEHOLD

Who needs permanent political change, long lasting growth, and tree planting when you could have her <3

She can’t stay and actually fix any problems, she has a continent to set on fire and a curtain of light to fuck under. 

It’s crazy how such wildly different interpretations can come about from the same text, and it’s rather satisfying to me personally that I am in fact not crazy and what I was seeing the narrative is actually there.

The Tyrion humping and the refusal to acknowledge that maybe magic nukes bad actually are what cracked me up to no end.

Yes, the real enemy is the cold, but also maybe Fire and Blood is not the end-all be-all solution???? Like, just think about it for more than five seconds. Did the chapters about the destructiveness of fire mean nothing to you? Did WF, the home of the heroes at the heart of the story, going up in flames ring no bells???? Did Arya’s escape from a fire described like a dragon, where she desperately kissed the mud when she realized she was still alive not set off any alarms???? Literally anything that has to with trees??? No? Okay.

I cannot even begin to unravel her Bran takes, so I’m not going to try. 

And lest I forget, JoLa also supported Sansan and even Creepyfinger at various points, sooooooo. I took her assertions that she’s a big Sansa fan with a pile of salt.

But nobody go harass JoLa’s account please. The only reason I’m talking about this is because it was literally years ago at this point, and she’s moved on and I’m reminiscing about the horrible old days. JoLa was actually a pretty civil and nice person (I think it was nobodywhosuspectsthebutterfly who was the combative one), if very silly and wrong. 

[voldemorts-tap-shoes]

Sneaking in one last microfic for the @cruelsummer-ficfest ! Thanks for another great fest 💕

Lavender Haze

The bar is quiet tonight, which is exactly how Draco prefers it. Even when it’s full, Half-Breeds isn’t like the raucous pubs of Diagon Alley or the posh clubs Blaise and Pansy like to drag him to. The primarily non-human clientele are just there for a cold pint and to get away from the world. Outcasts, like him. No one is there to make friends, or to pick up a one night stand; they all want to be left alone, and that suits Draco just fine. Besides, most anyone he might know from his Death Eater days—the ones he heard about this place from in the first place—is in Azkaban.

He polishes off his firewhiskey and motions for another as someone plops onto the stool beside him. “Draco Malfoy at a creature bar, I never thought I’d see the day.”

So much for his solitude. Lavender Brown is the cheeriest person in here, though her once sickly-sweet voice has lost some of the brightness of youth. Of course, it’s not youth they’ve lost at all, both of them far too young for all the horrors they’ve seen. It’s innocence.

He gives her a stiff nod of acknowledgement as the bartender sets a fresh glass in front of him and then looks to Lavender. “Wolfsbane, please,” she chirps. Draco starts, and she chuckles as the bartender walks off again. “It’s a cocktail. Although they do brew the potion here, too. For those who can’t get it elsewhere.”

“How does he know which one you want?”

“It’s not the full moon, silly. And Simon knows I don’t need the potion.”

“Oh.” He’d heard, of course, that she had been attacked by Greyback during the Battle of Hogwarts, but he didn’t know the extent of the damage. They weren’t what anyone would call friends, and he had hardly kept up with anyone in the months since the war ended.

“You don’t ever say too much, do you?” Lavender has one eyebrow quirked at him, her head tilted to the side like a confused puppy. Even under the scars that dominate the left side of her face and neck, she’s quite pretty for a Gryffindor. No, he’s not supposed to think like that anymore, although changing his mindset has been quite an effort. His fellow Slytherins couldn’t care less, but Draco saw from the inside out how rotten their side was. It’s not something he wants to define him anymore.

“Not much to say,” Draco replies, hoping his quipped tone will convey his desire to be alone. But Lavender tosses her handbag onto the bar top, settling in.

“Everyone that comes to this place has a history, things they’re not proud of. I know you do, too. There’s no judgment here. So if you have something you want to get off your chest, you can talk to me.”

She twirls the straw around in her fizzy little drink, not looking at him, and Draco waits for her to say more, to push him. When she doesn’t, he finds the words spilling out of him anyway.

“No one cares,” he mutters. “No one cares that we lost the war, that we shouldn’t have been fighting it to begin with. They’re all just glad it’s over and moved onto the next thing like nothing ever happened.”

“But you care.”

“Yeah.” Draco chuckles darkly. “Fuck me, not sure why. I was as horrible to the other side as anyone.” He’s hit with a pang of guilt, though he can’t say he ever did anything to Lavender in particular. But Weasley, her friends…

“People change,” she says with a shrug. “All this shit is new to me, too.” She waves her hand around the bar. “The werewolf scene, I mean.”

“But you’re not…?”

“No, I won’t ever transform. Doesn’t stop people being weird about it.”

Lavender absently traces one of the scars on her neck, and Draco’s eyes follow the angry red mark until it disappears under the neckline of her top. He finds himself wondering for a moment what else is under there and then shakes his head. Maybe he’s had one firewhiskey too many tonight.

“I’m sorry,” Draco says. He’s not quite sure why he’s apologizing—it’s not like he bit her, but he still feels partially responsible for her fate. “That you have to deal with this.”

She shrugs again. “It will get better. For you, too.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’ll be damned if I give a damn what people say about me.” Her glossy lips twist up into a smile, and as he sees the fire in her eyes, Draco realizes for the first time that they might have something in common. “Just take it one day at a time. You’ll get there.”

She starts to slide off her stool, but Draco puts a hand on her arm to stop her, surprising them both. He’s even more surprised when she doesn’t pull away. “You can stay,” he blurts. “If you want.”

Relief settles in as she gives him a little nod and shifts back into her seat. Though Lavender is the last person he would have thought to confide in when she walked in, he feels like she actually sees him as a person. Not Draco the Death Eater, not Lucius’s son…just Draco.

It’s not a feeling he wants to let go of just yet. He wants to stay in this hazy little bubble of friendship that’s formed between him and Lavender. Fortunately for him, she seems to want to stay there too.

[neva-writes]

All the students from Class 3A were seated in the living room floor, forming a circle.

“Midoriya. Truth or dare?” Todoroki asked.

“Hmm… I’ll go with truth this time, I guess…”, he said, scratching his nape slightly.

“Okay… Hmm…” Todoroki was thinking.

“C’mon Todoroki, ask him something deep, if you know what I mean”, Denki said, with suggestive eyes. “We hardly ever get the chance to have Midoriya cornered like this”.

“You are right”, Todoroki replied, with a tender smile. “Midoriya, can you tell us…”

Everyone was excited, almost biting their nails to know what dirty embarrassing secret Todoroki was going to get spilled out of his best friend. After all, he is incredibly intelligent and one of the Big Three along with Deku and Bakugo…

“…one of the moments in which you feel more at peace with yourself?”.

… and so fucking dense at times.

Suddenly the air was filled with teenage complaints and the sound of multiple faces-palming.

Izuku couldn’t help but laugh internally. He was so damn nervous! However, over the years he learned how to not show his emotions so easily.

What would have happened if Todoroki asked him to reveal something related to romance? Not that it mattered, his love life was non-existent, but he did have a huge crush on Kacchan. Ever since the blond apologized to him, they grew impossibly closer and became best friends again. The green-eyed boy had never been happier. He sighed.

What he was about to confess might as well be awkward but, you can’t lie on games like this, no?

“I believe… No… I know that I feel more at peace when…”

Izuku was saying, while glaring at the floor. Numerous eyes were on him, but he didn’t realize how certain rubies were staring more intensely than all the others.

"…me and Kacchan are at the edge of this skyscraper where we always stay vigilantes to any villain activity in the beginning of our intern patrols at the crack of dawn”, he admitted with a minor blush on his face.

His statement was followed by a deafening silence, and then…

“Wow Midoriya, that was so… so manly!”, Kirishima claimed enthusiastically.

“Yeah Izu, you are so sweet!”, Mina squealed, with Koda nodding vigorously by her side.

“Aw! No need to get flustered Bakugo!”, Sero retorted.

“Can it, Tape arms!”, Bakugo growled, with rosy cheeks.

Izuku gained the confidence to finally lift his head, but he still couldn’t look directly at the object of his affections.

"Enough everyone, let's continue", Momo demanded, amused by the display before her.

Now it was Uraraka’s turn to spin the bottle. Surprisingly, it ended up directed towards the angry Pomeranian. Her intern little devil already knew that her brash companion was someone who would choose action before giving anyone the chance to make him acknowledge anything, so she was about to exploit that situation. Besides… she was extremely tired of seeing Izuku and Bakugo foolishly pining without signals of them confronting their feelings any time soon. Plus, she was sure most of the class shared the same sentiments as her.

“Bakugo, truth or dare?”, she questioned him.

“Dare, obviously”, Bakugo stated.

Uraraka gave him a smug grin. Oh, Deku better reward her after this.

“I dare you to suck face with the most attractive person from our circle. And not a simple peck, but a dirty kiss”, she remarked.

Bakugo was stunned, but he was no coward. Meanwhile, Izuku’s heart stopped. His mind was going crazy. Just the thought of seeing Kacchan kissing someone other than him brought an ugly feeling to his chest. He wanted to stand up and flight out of there immediately, but that would only give him away.

Who would Kacchan choose? Someone like Yaomomo? Why not? She is so gorgeous. Or maybe someone bulky and handsome as Kirishima, who was seated next to him?

He was so lost in the sea of his inner ramblings that it took him time to notice Kacchan crawling towards… Kirishima? Of course! That’s just how shitty his luck is. His eyes were already getting filled with tears that were threatening to stream down his face. He turned his gaze elsewhere but to Kacchan and Kirishima. He was taken aback when he felt a weight on his legs.

Was this what he was thinking? It must be. He’d always recognize the delicious scent of burnt caramel. He risked giving a peek to the familiar presence on him. And yes, Kacchan was straddling him and lazily putting his arms around his shoulders. Izuku froze when his forest orbs met burning liquid fire.

“W-Why?”, Izuku stuttered.

“Hah? Are you this stupid? Or is it that it disgusts you the idea of me kissin—…”

“N-No!”, he screamed, shocking Bakugo. “I-I’m just surprised that… That someone as beautiful as you would choose someone so plain… as me…”, Izuku whispered, with his face completely red.

“God, you really are stupid”, Bakugo chuckled, fondly. He had an expression that Izuku had never seen on him, and the greenette couldn’t help but be captivated by such sight.

Izuku placed his hands on the blond’s waist while the latter was slowly drawing circles on the side of his neck.

He sensed a soft touch on his chin. Bakugo had caressed his cheek tenderly. The blond approached him with a lingering kiss on the spot that he was brushing just seconds ago. Izuku felt so enraptured by the spell that landed on him. He could happily die right there. But then a hunger for more invaded him.

Closer than ever, with their foreheads resting on each other and breaths intermingling, their eyes met again. Lord, he adored those alluring crimson eyes.

Katsuki’s gaze fell on Izuku’s rosy lips and then back to emeralds, as if asking for permission.

“This okay?”, he murmured.

Izuku, with half lidded eyes, answered by faintly capturing the other’s smooth lips, and that was all Bakugo needed as approval to devore his prey. He increased the pressure between both and ran his tongue against Izuku’s mouth. The other gasped and he took this as his advantage to enter Deku’s warm cavern.

The pair was literally smacking their mouths with bruising kisses in a battle of dominance. A delicious chill ran down Izuku’s spine. He tightened his grip on Katsuki’s waist and with his other free hand he tenderly stroked strands of soft platinum hair while Bakugo grabbed his jade scalp.

“Nnngh”. A sinful moan escaped Izuku’s mouth and Katsuki had never felt so turned on in his entire life. He didn’t want anyone else to hear that sound. It was supposed to belong only to his ears and no one else’s. He bit Izuku’s lower lip with enough force to leave a mark before both parted for air.

“I-I like you, Kacchan”, Izuku said, breathlessly.

“No shit”, Bakugo answered, panting.

Izuku pouted and Bakugo couldn’t resist kissing again those plump lips.

“I like you too, nerd. Go out with me”, he demanded.

“Gladly”, Izuku said with a determined tone. Katsuki kissed his forehead lovingly.

The quietness that wrapped them disappeared and then all the students were screaming:

“FUCKING FINALLY!”

Everyone bursted to laughs.

.

.

.

Bonus:

How could Bk resist not kissing Dk after saying that sappy shit?

Bk to Dk:

"HOW" *kiss* "DO YOU EXPECT ME TO" *another kiss* "NOT KISS THE" *deep kiss* "EVER LOVING FUCK OUT OF YOU" *deeper kiss* "AFTER HEARING YOU SAYING SUCH" *devouring kiss* "SAPPY SHIT" *final kiss*.

RIP Dk. 🧡💚