#sUIT UP MY GOOD DUDE WE GOING FOR A WILD RIDE

[gaast]

Since October 2022, I've been playing only one game at a time. That might not sound like much but for something that struggles to keep its number of concurrent games even at two, it's a pretty big deal. I did it because I wanted to commit to games, and to commit to finishing them. And for the most part, I've been successful.

As part of this, I've been tracking the games I've played and want to play, and I've been marking down the days I started something (usually) and the days I've finished them.

Now that this much time has passed, I've got a year's worth of games down, and I wanna do little write-ups for everything I played in 2023.

That means that anything I played in late 2022 (Silent Hill 2, Xenosaga Episode 1, Observation, and Red Dead Redemption, among others) can only get mentioned honorably here. But I'm gonna go through everything I started in 2023, beginning with:

Outer Wilds, January 1-January 7

What a way to start the year. Outer Wilds is unique and charming. It's really fun to fly through space in the awfulest space ship ever with the worst autopilot (have fun in the sun!) and check destroyed, abandoned planets, read ancient peoples' logs of their attempts to save the universe, and to be there at the end of everything.

Unfortunately: the fucking angler fish. I hate those fucks so bad that I actually didn't finish the game. I never brought X to Y (no spoilers) because I hate dealing with those guys. So I can't class this a perfect game. Those dudes need some changes.

Still, highly recommended.

The Sims 4, January 6-the ride never ends

I'm not gonna lie. This is just a sex thing for me.

Even still, I don't quite get why people hate it so much. I played the third game, too. This one's fine. This franchise isn't amazing. It's weird and held together by Scotch tape. I like that about it.

What a weird world.

Anyway, this must be around the time my ISP sent me emails telling me to stop pirating shit or they'd kick me off their plan, which would be bad because that ISP is the only one we can get in our building! Imagine being unable to work because you wanted TS4 DLC.

Bioshock, January 14-January 28, canceled

I couldn't do it.

This was my second attempt at getting through this game and I had to just admit that it's not for me. I didn't enjoy it. It was a chore. I decided to just set it aside.

Wish I hadn't paid for a PS4 copy when I already had a Steam copy. Ah well.

The Liar Princess and the Blind Prince, January 31-February 2

A very aesthetically-pleasing puzzleish platformer with a cute story and good music. I enjoyed my time with this simple little game.

Half-Life, February 3-February 5

You starting to see a pattern where I only manage to finish games, like, late at night, so I can't start a new one until later? Anyway.

This was my second attempt to get through this game. I did it this time, and I regret it. I didn't have fun.

I don't really know why I didn't have fun, I just didn't. Maybe the combat was too tedious. Maybe the jumping was too iffy. Maybe it just went on for too long. Maybe it's a case of "Seinfeld Is Unfunny." I don't know. I just know I don't like Half-Life.

So maybe I don't like the game, but I love the Headcrab Fucker 9000.

Poison Control, February 8-February 11

Sometimes you just wanna play a mid game.

Look, I like poison. I love pink. I love androgynous characters in suits. I like NIS. This game had it all. And it was perfectly. It made me want to stop playing a little while before it was over. It had a really good OST. I got the platinum trophy and I didn't feel satisfied.

I liked it. And sometimes that's enough.

This is the first on a small series of mid NIS-related games. I'll have more to say when I hit the other.

Grasping, February 15

Obviously I couldn't play this as intended, but it's not hard to imagine having shoved your hand into an awful box.

Anyway, this was good, I think. I don't really remember it.

The House in the Woods, February 15

Another horror game I absolutely do not recall playing.

Apocryphauna, February 15

I remember this one! It's good! I liked it! I wish there were more to it--like, a lot more. A lot lot more.

Dark Souls II: Scholar of the First Sin, February 25-March 21

I held off on playing this for a long time because I had always heard it was "made by the B team" and "not as good as the other games." But I decided to play it. It was the gaping hole in my From résumé.

It's not as good. It has a ton of bosses and none of them are memorable except for a select few DLC bosses (Fume Knight, Sir Alonne, Sinh). It makes a lot of weird gameplay choices. It takes way too long for Estus sippies to heal you--like, in terms of the health bar going up. The Iron Keep is infuriating. So many of the runups are abominable. It runs with the clunkiness of Demon's Souls and Dark Souls despite having the svelte ambitions of Bloodborne and Dark Souls III. It has way too many sections where it just says, "okay, deal with a ton of enemies now."

And I loved it.

Honestly, this is probably my favorite of the three Dark Souls games. I think it is by far the most aesthetically complete game of the trilogy. It fulfills its own promise, you know? And I disagree with the people who call it bleak. I think it's the only game of the trilogy that actually offers hope. A real hope, too. One that says that, just because our struggle may not take us anywhere, at least our struggle itself is beautiful.

In a strange way, I think that Dark Souls II is the only Souls game that actually understands the Souls series.

"A lie will remain a lie."

Pokémon Violet, March 21-March 25

I didn't want to play this game. I didn't want to like it. I just wanted to play it. I love Pokémon. Sure, this wasn't a Pokémon game (according to me), but I wanted to play it anyway. The morning I finally decided to go for it, I had read that the professors were antagonists all along. How stupid!

And the reaction. Oh boy. All the glitches. All the performance issues. All the memes. What trash, right? Right?

I fell in love. I didn't think anything could unseat Gen 7 in terms of my love for a Pokémon generation, but honestly, this game might do it.

Did it need more time to cook? Absolutely. I'm not gonna sit here and say it should have been released as it was. No; it is in many ways a disaster, and it is certainly unacceptable.

But every inch of it oozes with love.

This game wasn't just shit out to make a buck. It feels that way at first, but no, everyone who had a hand in making the Gen 9 games absolutely loved what they were doing. You can feel it--from the sound design to the music to the character design to, fuck, everything. They did the best they could with what they had and they made one of the most charming, wonderful games I've had the pleasure of playing in far too long.

There is so much heart here. It convinced me that the future of Pokémon is still bright. Very much so.

Just... let's take a couple extra years to make the next one, all right?

Heroine Conquest, sometime in April

Look. It's actually pretty good.

The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, March 31-April 18

I'll get this out of the way: I didn't really have fun.

The game has aged surprisingly well. Or Skyrim is just a truly unmotivated sequel. Either way, it holds up.

The problem is that I just don't think that TES games are for me. They're just so fucking boring. And I never end up liking literally any character in them.

I have fun actually playing for a while, but the general guideline with Oblivion is "don't level up." Fun! Either way, it's just rote after a while. Nothing really feels satisfying, and you're always worried something is going to break.

Frankly, the main story quest isn't compelling, either. With hindsight, knowing it'll lead to the rise of the Dominion again, it's like, well, shit.

Anyway, I played it. And it's certainly a game that you can play. If you wanna.

FEWAR-DVD, April 23

I called it "an arcade game" in my notes and that's basically what it is. Doesn't mean it isn't fun.

(Have you noticed I'm not reviewing games yet? It's write-ups; I'm giving my thoughts and impressions. Also, it's been a while, so I don't super remember a bunch of these. Oh well!)

Bleak Sword DX (Demo), April 23

I think I liked this? Apparently it's out. I should review it and see if I wanna get it at some point.

It looks pretty cool.

The Signal State (Demo), April 23

I liked this a lot because it's so unique and it taps into a specific type of autistic urge for me but god is its price tag just too high for what I suspect that it is.

Deltarune (Chapters 1 and 2), April 22-April 23

This was a replay of Chapter 1 and a first play of Chapter 2.

I think when I first played Chapter 1 I felt... you know, I didn't want Undertale, or a sequel to Undertale, but a secret third thing. And when I first played it in... late 2019? It wasn't whatever that secret third thing was. I liked it, don't get me wrong. But I think I didn't... get it?

Not to say I wasn't excited for me. It just took me a while to convince myself to finally get to Chapter 2 and to meet the funny spambot man.

Anyway, I won't bother spending too much time on Deltarune. I'll just say that in this play, I realized that Deltarune is that secret third thing, and that I think it's better than Undertale.

I'm scared.

Pizza Tower, April 14-April 23

I think I'm guilty of wanting this game to be something it isn't.

I wanted WarioLand, and it's like that, but it isn't precisely that. It isn't trying to be precisely that. It's trying to be Pizza Tower.

I like the game, but not as much as I thought I would. Not as much as I think I should.

I'll probably reply this game in a year or two and it'll click and I'll love it the way I was always meant to love it. But for now, I'll just let the "Tombstone Arizona" guitar impregnate me.

13 Sentinels: Aegis Rim, April 19-May 27

...It took me that long? Really? Huh.

Anyway, I love this game. I love love love it. I love the characters and the art style and the way they tell the story and the story itself and the gameplay (holy shit the gameplay!) and just. Man. I wish more games were just like this. Weird, experimental, talky, confident, cool, and unique.

This is the type of game that inspires you to write your own sci-fi. Or to write about its world. To think and to imagine.

And that's the best type of game.

Ace Combat 7: Skies Unknown, May 28-June 6

Come to think of it, how can a sky be unknown. There's just the one.

As mentioned above, I played this after Ace Combat 2. With both of those under my belt, I now know: the way I want to play these games is not the way I'm supposed to play these games.

And that's fine. I feel like "gamers" nowadays are so fixated on the idea that games should let you play them however you wanna play them, and that if they can't accommodate that then they're somehow inherently flawed. It's like everything needs the mutability of Minecraft, the problem-solving freedom of Scribblenauts, and the role-playing depth of Dungeons & Dragons. If it doesn't score highly on all those axes, it's got problems.

Obviously, I disagree. Games can and should have "supposed tos." You should be expected to play a specific diegetic role. You should be limited (and by the way, you're always limited, so don't act like you aren't).

If I ever play another Ace Combat game (and I wanna play Electrosphere), I might do it on easy. I like these games but man do I not know how they want me to engage with them.

no-one has to die, June 4

I had to replay this Flash game that I had originally played once when I was probably 14.

I'm glad I did.

Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair, sometime in 2022-sometime in mid-2023

The strange thing about the Danganronpa games is that they're actually really good.

They shouldn't be. They shouldn't work. But they do.

This was kind of a replay. I had read most of the original orenronen LP back in... 2012, 2013? I only now have actually played it. And it's good. It's really good. I'm glad I went through it, and I'm glad I went through it with my fiancé, and I'm glad he knew nothing of any of the twists, and I'm glad I got to experience someone experiencing those twists for the first time.

SCARLET NEXUS, June 4-June 6, canceled

This was a second attempt after a first attempt in 2022 got deep into Yuito's story before I aborted it.

It's not for me. Not to say I don't like it--I do. A lot. I wish I could play this game. But I demand such fucking perfection from myself when playing it that I get too caught up by how poorly I'm playing to enjoy myself and actually let myself proceed.

I had to stop because I just wasn't having fun. I'm sad about it.

Risky Sanctuary, June 10

This is one of those games that I hope the developer comes back to, not to spruce up but to make anew. Because it's a really fun concept that basically got held back by being made in a month for a jam.

It really shouldn't take that long to clean come off of a wall.

HYPNOSCREEN, June 10

I keep forgetting I gotta play this more.

Parasite Eve, June 9-June 15

I'm still not super sure how I feel about this one.

The plot is fun but it never becomes compelling. There's an obviously evil scientist and he does obviously evil things. Never a good sign.

The gameplay is fun but it never hits nearly the level of intricacy and care that a close relative, Vagrant Story, does.

The dungeons are well-designed, though, and even if the setting is New York, it feels... fresh? It feels like NYC is always a backdrop in games and its specifics aren't important to it (see: Prototype). Parasite Eve actually cares that it's in NYC and it goes to locations there. The game feels like the developers enjoyed making it.

Also the OST is awesome. And Daniel fucking jumping out of the helicopter, getting lit on fire, throwing the bullets to Aya, landing in the water, and surviving is by far the coolest shit I've ever seen in anything ever.

This feels like a game you have to play at least once. I don't know why it feels that way; it just does.

WASTE EATER, June 17

It asks for like 20 minutes of your time and makes you cry. It's awesome.

EXPERIMENT: GROCERIES, June 17

I was more bored than spooked. It was a good try and maybe someone else will find it more fun than I did.

I'm sure if I replayed it and turned a critical eye to it I could talk at length about it. But I just don't want to.

I feel like if you're going to make uncanny the grocery store, there's other ways to do it.

Final Fantasy X: HD, sometime in 2023-sometime in 2023

We're about to see schedule issues. You'll find out why later.

This was, obviously, a replay.

I swear, this game gets better every single time I play it. I don't know what it is. It's such a smart, insightful game, with lovingly crafted characters. I love the inexorable northward journey, the feeling like you're constantly outrunning something even if you know you're running straight into the very thing you're outrunning.

Maybe it's because once you're aware of the spiral, its pull becomes that much stronger. I swear, I cry more with each playthrough, maybe because it just becomes all the more apparent how hopeless the journey is, and how much strength it takes to hope regardless. Yuna and Tidus are fantastic.

The gameplay ages like a fine wine, too. I know, it's turn-based, so it's hard to get clunky, but the game knows how it's being lenient to you and it knows just how to turn it against you. It's a system you can get better at. It's a game that rewards you in proportion to the time you're willing to put into it.

I don't need to tell you that FFX is a masterpiece, I hope. But it's worth reminding ourselves that it is. Because I think it's willing to be vulnerable in a way that most games just aren't anymore. I think the only Final Fantasy game that I've played that is more vulnerable than X is XIII. I respect the hell out of that.

(Speaking of, another honorable mention from the end of 2022 is my replay of the Final Fantasy XIII trilogy--and frankly, my love and appreciation for those games grew only deeper. They rule!)

You can talk about X forever. You can live in its world. It's fantastic, and it's always worth returning to.

Even if you have to make Yuna dance again, at least you know there'll be a time when she won't have to anymore.

Succubus Academia, September?-September 16

I tend to stay away from RPG Maker games, not for any valid reason but because creators, especially of eroge, tend not to really edit much. They end up looking fairly samey, with similar gameplay. Menus don't get edited, music is pretty bland, it's a fantasy setting... Exceptions exist, like Miwashiba's games ("that's a different engine!" yeah well they're still well-crafted despite being Made Like That) and, apparently Succubus Academia.

I won't tell you what tag I searched to find it on DLSite but anyway, I found it, I got it, I played it, and I loved it.

The map graphics are standard RPG Maker fare, sure, but the battles are totally custom and they're actually really fun. The music, though, the music fucking rules. I was there to bust a move, not bust a nut, I swear.

The concept is really fun too. "The only way to proceed is to literally get killed the right way. Sorry! But hey, at least you'll save the world. Snrk." Coupled with a battle system that actually has a really fun push-pull kind of resource management/health system, it just works. It helps that the battles all have Live 2D animation work going on, too.

Give this one a shot (no pun intended) if you like eroge. Seriously.

Dohna Dohna, sometime in September?-sometime in October

All right, look. It's not the best at anything. But it's pretty good at everything.

The character designs rule. The color palettes are awesome. The gameplay is fun. The OST is actually pretty outstanding. The combat is really fun. The mechanics are interesting. The writing has a lot of care put into it.

Alicesoft wanted to celebrate its anniversary and they were welcome to do it. I enjoyed celebrating with them.

Kirakira best girl. Even if Joker is truly best girl.

Baldur's Gate 3, sometime in October-November 14

One of the first sounds you hear in this game is a Wilhelm scream. This is a subtly masterful introduction to the game, as it signals to attentive players a lot about the artistic experience they're about to embark on: It will be more or less the same as everything else they've ever experienced, just remixed so it will hopefully be less noticeable.

And that's the thing. We've seen everything that BG3 does before, over and over, and we're so used to seeing all of these signs and tropes that it's actually become difficult to tell when they're being used poorly. BG3 throws so much of the same old shit at the wall and it can only stick because the shit that's there from last time still hasn't dried.

But here's the thing: I don't even know if any of its shit sticks. It's all so bad.

For instance, the party. Each individual party member is a collection of about 3 traits, plus their own unique brand of "horny for you." They're about as complex as late-stage Tales characters, but they have way less charm because they don't have anything like skits to round them out. In fact, because there's no guarantee that you'll have X or Y party member, or that they'll be present for conversation A, your party doesn't really have conversations together so much as they just talk through you like you're a telephone. You don't really have a party. You are a guy who has friends.

So you drag along this uninteresting, blandly-designed crew of the same fucking shit you've seen a billion times (literally one dude's whole thing is "I'm a vampire and I have vampire problems") who never really engage with each other (they'll maybe trade quips here and there, and they've got some dialogue they'll run through ambiently when specific ones are in the party together, but it's clear that This Does Not Matter) through a pretty standard fantasy world that by its own popularity offers little novelty. As you do so you meet asshole upon asshole who has a quick trait or two and says things in a European accent and maybe you'll get the scummiest Narrator I've ever heard say something smarmy based on a passive roll you'll probably fail mid-conversation. Go kill some shit and come back and maybe I'll try to help you not die. Idiot.

But you can't not die. You need to keep dying, and people need to keep failing to help you not die, or people need to keep trying to kill you because you're dying the wrong way for them, or else there'd be no reason to have the game. Honestly, if you lost the tadpoles before you killed the final boss, like, two party members would probably just outright try to kill each other, and everyone else would fuck off back to their shitty little lives, except for the ones who managed to escape their shitty little lives, in which case I guess the adventure continues! I don't feel like any of these people, with maybe three exceptions, would actually keep litigating the campaign if their lives weren't on the line.

But hey, even if almost every time someone speaks it's just to either whine about how hard they have it or to criticize you for a choice you made or to give you a quest because everything in Faerûn is your fucking problem, at least you get to have the gameplay! At least you get to slog through some of the most bullshit combat encounters they can throw at you with their barely-working mess of a battle system! With the most boring bosses imaginable save one! (Why is Gortash the only fun boss? Why does he get to have those explosives systems that aren't anywhere else?)

But oh, you get to make so many choices! You can be whoever you want, so long as they're someone who'll make any of these specific choices. Fuck off.

Meanwhile the music makes you want to fucking tear your hair out because I swear to god every single track uses the exact same leitmotif and it is so boring. Oh my god this game takes absolutely no fucking risks with anything. There's no fucking reason to play this thing. It's miserable. It's miserable, it'll make you save scum, its loading times (to load saves; loading areas is quick as can be!) are atrocious, and every time you have an option to pick something cool, you get fucking despised for it. You can become a fucking mind flayer and the game makes sure to tell you you're a complete fucking scumbag for doing it.

I hate this game. I hate it so fucking much. It is so bad and it has nothing redeemable in it and it has nothing noteworthy in it and worst of all it is just not at all fun. It's awful.

Game of the Year. Play it.

Monark, November 25-December 3

Time to fulfill the promise I made back with Poison Control.

This game is good. It's not great. Maybe it's pretty good. I liked it a lot. I enjoyed playing it.

Does it have problems? Sure. Could they be easily corrected? Yep. Does that hamper my perception of it? Of course.

As I said, sometimes you just wanna play a mid game.

After I finished Monark, I checked out its TV Tropes page, and I of course linked to "So Okay, It's Average." The Quotes page on that trope all seem to imply that just being all right is somehow worse than being bad.

I can't agree with that.

First of all, I think the binary of "good" and "bad" art is a false one. There's value in literally all art. There's something to mine, to find, to take home, to use, to learn--to whatever--in everything. Meaning and worth aren't exclusive to the good.

Maybe something isn't as good as it could be, but it's certainly what it is, and nothing else is as good at being it. Monark maybe isn't a great game but it's awesome at being Monark. I doubt any other game could compare.

So many articles from game writers and journalists lament the concept that "there's so many great games out there that it's just impossible to want to make time for anything that isn't great." That's... such a sad state, to me. Imagine playing a game only because it is considered "great." Imagine needing everything you play to have an award or a green Metacritic score just so you'll make time for it.

I don't think these writers mean to do this when they say it, but they're really benefiting a capitalist mindset. Companies have to do everything they can to get your attention. They have to make "great" games, or you won't play them. They need hype machines. They need stellar reviews. They need people talking. They need public reception to manufacture their game's own greatness, so that it will be great and then be played and then make money. If the incentive to get good reviews is to make money then the game is just a product and it wasn't made to be art.

I don't think people purposely set out to make shitty games or average games. I just think they set out to make the game they make, and the question is how well they achieve that goal. And that's entirely personal. It's something that only the creators can decide.

But in the end, some of the creators are producers and directors and executives at publishing companies who look at games in terms overhead, costs, projected income, earnings statements, financial reports.

But these are the people who make great games. Because they have to money to spend to make them great, the clout they need to keep exploiting their specific workers, and the agents necessary to make sure that reviewing publications will be predisposed to helping make their game great (you know, like what Nintendo relies on pretty much exclusively). The game doesn't have to be good. People just have to be told that it is, and then when enough people believe, they'll police the narrative so much that others will be scared to voice their opinion without getting a ton of clown emojis in their inboxes.

I'm not saying that's every "great" game. I'm willing to argue it's probably most Games of the Year as determined by Big Industry Figure Geoff Keighley, though (borne out for sure with 2022's winner; Elden Ring is so mediocre, dude).

Anyway, there's no need to play all the "great" games that are out. You know what you can play instead? The games you want to play.

You don't have to agree with me that sometimes you just wanna play a mid game. But you'll probably agree that sometimes you just wanna play a specific game. Good, bad, or mid, it's what you want to play because it, in some way, speaks to you.

That's all you need.

Mediterranea Inferno, December 4-December 6

Until now, I was cautious about pandemic stories.

The problem has always been that, sure, the lockdown happened for a year (in the US, at least), but it was only a year. It was major, to be sure, and I'm not downplaying that, but in the grand scheme of human history, it was a year. There's no guarantee (or even, necessarily, reason to believe) anything like it will happen again for a long time. So, I thought, how applicable could stories that come from it be to the future?

Don't get me wrong, I always recognized that in the lockdown was stories about isolation, grief, illness, fear, loss. But those are all distinctly human things we've been writing about since we could write. They weren't unique to the pandemic. Why use the very specific imagery of the lockdown to tell a story about those things when there's definitely more universal things to use?

I'm, as always, an idiot.

Beyond just the fact that it was an event and we'll never stop needing to take stock of it, to examine it, to see who we were and became through it, the pandemic was a world-ending phenomenon, a sea change, a new way of understanding ourselves, or misunderstanding ourselves, or misunderstanding others.

Mediterranea Inferno is about having lost yourself. The lockdowns made three young Italian men lose themselves, and when they came back together in 2022 they found that they had lost each other, too. It presents continuity with their histories: their self-destruction wasn't inevitable, but the pandemic forcing them to grapple with their places in life created living nightmares of isolation, grief, powerlessness, loss of identity, and loneliness.

When you start a new game, a card informs you that the creator made it "about his generation." He seems to think that we're lost, not in the way that the Lost Generation was, but in a different way. Whereas in the 1920s we lost faith in symbols, institutions, and humanity, in the 2020s we lost faith in ourselves and each other.

It's terrifying to admit that we can't do this alone, and that the crutches we always used to get through each day were other people. Claudio relied on his family name; it lost all meaning when his father blew his inherited fortune, revealing that there isn't necessarily a continuity between past success (Nino) and the present. Mida relied on the ways he could keep people at arm's length and when he couldn't get closer to the only person he wanted to grow closer to, he decided that others were there for him to take. And Andrea was never able to identify precisely what he needed from other people to keep him going, mistaking sex and skin-deep pleasure for the validation he so desperately craved.

Of course, if one of them gets accepted to Heaven during the Assumption, one of the others kills their friends and, in one case, accidentally himself. And if none of them make it--or if all of them do--they tell themselves that they're no longer friends. They walk away. They fall to the ground. They feel, sharply, the absence. They try to feel it in the crutches they replaced each other with (the past, the prestige, the plenty). But it isn't there.

Alternatively, if they suffer enough, they can give their spiritual guide through their pain an opportunity as well, and through him learn that they went through all of it to encourage them to revolt against their fathers, against the endless history that suffuses every rock in Italy. Paraphrasing: "There's never been an Italian Revolution. We've always been satisfied with what our fathers gave us, so long as we had permission to kill our brothers." He, like so many, wanted the pandemic to become a watershed moment, one that spurred on change, made the world a better place.

And the Sun Guys reject it. Their revolt is to refuse to be told what to do.

Just give them time to figure out what to do next.

I don't think you can tell this story without the pandemic.

This game is bleak. It's harsh. The style is immaculate. The soundtrack rules. Play it.

Assassin's Creed: Valhalla, June 16-ongoing

Here is why the schedule slipped.

I like this game a lot. I burned myself out on it. Over the course of months.

I'm still not done. I'm not letting myself uninstall it until I'm done.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Pokémon Fool's Gold, unknown

The new music was great and the sprites were awesome and I love Eris. But to me this was mostly a fun new way to experience Gen 2. That's not a bad thing, really. Gen 2 isn't great, but there's a lot about it to love.

Pokémon Unbound, unknown

This and the previous entry are the only two Pokémon mods or fangames or whatever that I've ever played. I'm glad I started here!

If you're into playing fangames or whatever you know about this one and you know it rules. I'm not gonna bother praising it directly, though I'll say it earns all the good things said about it.

For me, projects like these really remind me of why we're still drawn to the Pokémon series even when the people in charge of it keep making pretty drastic decisions. I've said for years that the series is for kids and that it's not only fine but right to keep its focus firmly on kids, but Black and White proved that we can actually have our cake and eat it, too. We can have a game for kids that is also just flat-out a good game.

But for some reason, even if I ended up loving Gen 7 more than I did Gen 5, I feel like it's harder to call Ultra Sun and Ultra Moon good games? It's more like I can call them good Pokémon games. But are they good games?

I want them to be.

But what I want Pokémon games to be is totally different from what anyone else wants Pokémon games to be. Fool's Gold and Unbound confirmed that to me. I mean, I always knew it was true, but they confirmed it. What surprised me about them was that they were also good. That even if they weren't my vision, I still enjoyed them as a vision for Pokémon.

But to return to what I said a few paragraphs ago: We're still drawn to Pokémon because in each new entry we find more promises. We find new things to enjoy, to marvel at, to wonder about, to fill in. Every new mainline entry, especially since Black and White, feels like a new reinterpretation of what Pokémon is and can be, and even if we as fans don't always agree, we still have the conversation and we're still often compelled enough by something in the new interpretation that we hang onto it and let it be a part of what Pokémon is to us.

For as much as it stays the same, Pokémon is very much a living franchise, one that changes and, no pun intended, evolves. Maybe it does so in different ways than we might want, but there's nothing stopping us from knowing better. Well, nothing except Nintendo, a company that is more than welcome to fucking die immediately.

Pokémon, both the franchise and its fan works, is constantly grasping toward perfection. But we all know that perfection doesn't exist. We head towards and we know that we'll fail and we also know that even if we were to attain perfection, we'd reject it. Perfection is an illusion, a cruel one; even were it not, it would still be cruel, a poison pill. Real beauty isn't in perfection, it's in striving for it knowing you'll fail. It's about being weak, bad even, useless even, and still being loved. It's about trying, hard, getting nowhere close, and smiling afterward. It's about working together to make something new, something that loves, something that brings us all together to love even harder. It's about the struggle; it's about the effort; it's about the handshake after the battle.

Wherever Pokémon goes, no matter who's propelling it along, it'll be Pokémon. And that's what I want.

[newtypezaku]

Hello....Can I ask your top 10 favorite anime (can be series or movies) that you've finished? And why do you love them? Thanks if you want to answer....

Sure, I'll just grab the top of my MyAnimeLi-- actually, hmm, can I trust past me's ratings? Does current me remember how past me was scoring these? 

WE’LL DO IT LIVE! In no particular order, and under the cut to avoid blasting yinz with a wall-o-text:

Legend of the Galactic Heroes: Okay, so I fully get people who don't want to slog through this because it can be painfully slow and dry, but that's what drew me to it. In terms of world-building and showing your work, this is one of the best sci-fi political dramas you'll find in any medium. It's also great if you pay attention US current events and want to be even MORE worried about the decline of the republic.

Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood: A wild ride from start to finish, with an amazing cast and well-written escalation as evil plots materialize. Great balance of action, drama, and comedy. I'm struggling to think of another show that lasted four or more cours where I didn't, at any point, think, "Huh, it's really dragging lately." Fond memories of watching this in anime club, too.

Patlabor 2: The Movie: All of Patlabor is pretty great, and you can jump between the TV series and the OVAs/movies depending on what kind of tone you want in your giant robot police procedural. The second movie is a gripping political thriller that asks some very big and scary questions about the nature of peace and power; as with LoGH, it’s one of those that maybe you wanna hold off on if current events are stressful.

Macross Plus: It distills all of the Macross essentials into a tidy two-hour package with high-quality animation, lovely Yoko Kanno soundtrack, and one of the most gorgeous mechs ever to grace the screen, the YF-19. Virtual idol Sharon Apple gets bonus points for the effort made to make her music not sound contemporary. Also makes it painfully clear how much Japan loves Top Gun for whatever reason.

Chihayafuru: Completed in that I’ve watched what’s been adapted. This is somehow an honest-to-goodness sports anime which effectively hits all the tropes, surrounds the MCs (who are huge dorks themselves) with a quirky ensemble cast, and has introduced audiences to an incredibly Japanese cultural curiosity, competitive Hyakunin Isshu karuta. Shout-out to the Kitakyushu Manga Museum for finally giving me the opportunity to buy a plush Snowmaru.

Mobile Suit Gundam: I’m always going to have a soft spot for Wing; it was my first and I’ve yet to run into a Wing mech that I don’t instinctively like. But in terms of world and characters, the OG is where it’s at. Massive appreciation for the depth of the story being told in what was supposed to just be a toy commercial for Mr. Bandai in 19-freakin-79. Amuro and Char have grown to be larger-than-life and there’s just something comforting about seeing and hearing them whenever something new pops up. (Yes, even the damn McDonald’s commercial that Ikeda Shuuichi was paid real money to do.)

Psycho-Pass: Continuing with the theme of “here are some uncomfortable truths about modern society and we’re not being subtle,” we have Akane, the mythical good cop in a sea of actual violent criminals. Watching her slowly learn how the world works, hate it, deal with it, and then face it on her own terms -- chef’s kiss. Side note, shout-out to the time @lindoreda and I went to see the stage play, and I was one of the few dudes there, and we could feel the room collectively inhale when Kubota Yuki took his shirt off.

Flag: Flag is told from the perspective of a photojournalist embedded within a UN task force carrying out peacekeeping operations in generic central Asian country. And when I say “from her perspective,” I mean that literally, as almost the entire show is seen through her camera lens with occasional side-views from another journalist’s POV or onboard camera footage during missions. It’s a unique and painfully contemporary (although it’s, what, over 15 now?) mecha that I need to rewatch sometime.

Haikyuu!!: I’m giving Haikyuu a nod over some other excellent contenders (Kuroko and Daiya come immediately to mind) because it has all the elements I expect -- lovable cast, action-packed matches, special attacks that straddle the line of unbelievability -- plus a selfish intangible. I can cosplay Asahi without a wig and a quick shave, because manbun has been my default for years. It’s nice having a show I like where I can just take one look at a dude and be like, yup, I can wear that to cons until I start turning gray.

Shinkalion: I WOULD BE REMISS NOT TO MENTION THE SINGLE MOST IMPORTANT TRANSFORMING-BULLET-TRAIN FRANCHISE OF MY LIFETIME, WHICH IS A TOY COMMERCIAL HIDDEN WITHIN THE STORY OF A BUNCH OF KIDS CONFRONTING BIG PROBLEMS AND FINDING SOLUTIONS THAT MAKE ALL THE ADULTS IN THE ROOM THINK, YEAH, WE CAN TRUST THEM WITH THE FUTURE AND THE FUTURE IS NOW.

[simple-symphonia]

i really like the meme face you have on your ask! but just wondering, could you draw an au of haiykuu with as many of them in suits? they'd all look dashing af

oh crap realizing now I sent you an ask instead of submit - okey welp PLEASE BLESS THIS WEBSITE WITH a haiykuu au: them all in suits hot and dashing looking (this does not exist ANYWHERE)

Both submits and asks are a-okie my good dude( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)b

AWW THANKS FOR LIKIN THE MEME FACE BUDDY!!! :’DI don’t really know how to draw suits properly but!!! There is this amazing Haikyuu suit zine from a while back! Some of the artists have posted their Haikyuu suits artworks since then and I would definitely recommend you checking them out! 100/10 good suits much wow

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

I ║ Palomino

Jack Daniels x f!reader

 { Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Part 2: Buckskin }

Rating: M (will be E in future chapters)

Summary: Unable to get a refund for a week-long horse-riding pack trip you'd booked with your ex, you decide to go solo. As it turns out, a rebound with a cowboy named Jack while traversing the wild landscapes of Wyoming might just be what you need.

Warnings: Extremely self-indulgent solo travel romance, flirting, yearning, language, matchmaking themes, lots of horsey details, mention of breakup, no use of Y/N

Word count: 6.5k

Notes: This story encompasses a lot of firsts for me - first new series since Consent, first time writing Jack, first time writing something so action-heavy and close to my heart. While I'm not 100% confident I got everything right, I am so excited about this fic. I hope you're ready for the ride (I apologise in advance for all the horsey puns incoming)!

I want to call out (affectionate) LJ @prolix-yuy for lighting a fire under my ass for cowboy Jack with her incredible Westworld AU Cognitive Dissonance. I also need to thank Ani @deadhumourist for the idea of a company retreat that I used in this chapter, and for sharing with us her amazing Jack fic Under Marula Trees. And of course, Ash @mandoblowmybackout for enduring my almost non-stop screeching about Jack ❤️

More notes in the Series Masterlist on horses and travel, etc!

Palomino: a pale golden or tan-coloured horse or pony with a white mane and tail, originally bred in the south-western US.

The door creaks long and loud on its hinges as it opens, barely letting through a bustling figure before slamming shut so hard it rattles on its heavy oak frame.

At the long-suffering frown sent his way from across the reception desk, Champ holds his hands up in apology and tip-toes in exaggerated fashion to his desk. Ginger shakes her head fondly - being quiet is not one of her employer’s strong suits.

She presently returns to the phone call she’s in the middle of, using her most placating tone on this customer. ‘Look, we have regulars coming in the same week as you. They come every year for a company retreat, and they are just the loveliest people you can meet. I promise you’ll have a great time.’

The vintage Chesterfield groans under his weight as Champ settles down, and with a practised flick of his wrist, his cowboy hat lands on its designated hook on the wall. He turns to the ledgers Harry left on his desk two days ago - he can’t keep putting them off much longer…

His mind quickly wanders. He’s a people person, and he’s always been more interested in the dude ranch holiday part of the business. However, Ginger is so good at her job that she’s made him redundant, banishing him to the whiskey distillery side of things. 

It doesn’t stop him from keeping half an ear on the ongoing phone conversation though.

‘I’m so sorry, ma’am, it’s not our policy to offer refunds. But I promise you’ll have the best birthday with us on the trip.’

Champ steeples his fingers and leans back in his chair. Ah, a customer wanting to cancel. Always tricky.

‘Tell you what - since you’ve already paid a 40% deposit for two guests, why don’t I waive the 20% balance for your holiday for one party?’

Champ arches a grey eyebrow in curiosity.

‘Alright, perfect,’ chirps Ginger brightly. ‘We look forward to seeing you in a few weeks. Bye now.’

‘What was that about?’ he asks as soon as she hangs up.

Bringing up the reservations system on her computer, she types busily as she replies, ‘A guest booked a holiday with her boyfriend, but they broke up, and she wanted a refund for both their places. I convinced her to come alone instead with the discount. She’s here the same week as the Kingsman so she definitely won’t be lonely.’

Champ gives her a double thumbs up. ‘Nicely done, Ginger. And did you say it’s her birthday while she’s here?’

‘Yes. Don’t worry, I’ll give Poppy a heads up to bake a cake in advance.’

‘Do you have a photo of her?’

Ginger’s fingers pause and hover over the keyboard, a warning in her voice. ‘Champ.’

He blinks innocently. ‘What? I’m a nosy bastard.’

With a sigh, she pulls up a Whatsapp profile picture and holds up the phone to him.

He puts on his reading glasses to look at the screen, and proceeds to nod thoughtfully. Finally, they haven’t had any single guests at the ranch for months on end. Surely, she’s his type…

‘Champ?’ Ginger’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. ‘Stop meddling!’

He feigns ignorance. ‘Whatever do you mean, ma’am?’

She rolls her eyes affectionately. ‘He’s a big boy, he doesn’t need your help.’

Champ barks in laughter. ‘Like hell he doesn’t. Call the Kingsman and reschedule them, Ginger. I have a plan.’

You’ve never travelled on your own before.

Now that you’re speeding down the empty country roads towards the Bighorn Mountains - windows down, dust flying, radio blaring - you honestly don’t know why you waited so long.

You’re glad that the woman at the Statesman stood firm when you called a month and a half ago, asking for a refund. The discount sweetens the deal too.

To be honest, the week-long dude ranch trip you booked months ago had completely slipped your mind in the aftermath of the breakup. There were more pressing matters, like - what were you going to do with the house you bought and remodelled together?

You’d just finished tiling the backsplash with the vintage Italian mosaic you found at a flea market when you were informed that he didn’t feel the same way about you anymore. In fact, he hadn’t for some time.

You were only reminded of the trip when you started clearing your stuff out of the attic, finally having found an apartment you could afford on your own that is also not a shithole. You found the riding gear that you’d stashed away, gathering dust since you two started dating.

You should be thankful that at least there’s no costly wedding venue deposit to forgo or a pet custody battle to muddle through. He’s always hated animals - you really should’ve known. 

But you can’t bring yourself to not be bitter about everything. Not yet.

Maybe it’s a good thing that you’re going on this trip. That lazy bastard can start pulling his weight and sort out the house viewings for potential buyers for this week. He’s been dragging his feet - just because he can afford to pay both the mortgage and rent at his new bachelor pad doesn’t mean you can too.

You shake yourself out of it and crank up the stereo. Fuck it. You’re not thinking about him or the house or anything this weekend. It’s your solo birthday getaway and you’re gonna enjoy the fuck out of it.

And who knows? If you’re lucky, you could be rebounding with a handsome cowboy, like one of those awful Unicorn Club novels you used to read over and over again when you were fifteen.

You laugh, the pull of the muscles in your cheeks unfamiliar after weeks of disuse. A girl can dream.

You switch off the ignition, hands gripping the driving wheel tightly, and you take a moment to compose yourself. 

‘You can do this,’ you murmur, giving yourself a reaffirming nod in the rear view mirror.

Hopping off your rental truck, you shut the door behind you and start towards the only building you can see, a rustic lodge with a red roof. Statesman is blazened in iron letters, nailed proudly above a wraparound porch with welcoming rocking chairs and armchairs scattered about.

The gravel beneath your sneakers crunches loudly. You can hear in the distance sounds that you haven’t heard for a long time - clip clop of hooves, the drag of a barn door on rusty hinges, the low whinny of horses. You breathe in the mountain air scented with a whiff of sweet hay. Things that were familiar once upon a time. Your chest constricts at something blooming between your ribs, and a small smile lifts the corner of your lips.

There’s a bark out of the blue, and a border collie comes zipping towards you, wagging his tail so hard that his whole bottom wriggles from side to side. You coo excitedly and crouch down to give him a cuddle when a man with grey hair emerges from the lodge. It’s a warm day, but he’s wearing a suit with a cowboy hat.

In a booming voice, he calls your name in greeting and makes his way over to you. ‘We’ve been expecting you, young lady! The name’s Champ. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.’

You stand and shake his proffered hand with a smile. ‘Nice to meet you, Champ. It’s good to be here.’ You gesture to the empty parking lot. ‘Am I early or something?’

‘You’re our only guest this week, actually,’ he replies in a thick Southern accent.

You scratch the back of your neck, taken by surprise. ‘Umm, but the lady I spoke to on the phone - she said that there are regulars joining? A company retreat or something?’

‘Sadly, they rescheduled. It’s just you, my dear. You’re our VIP!’ he grins and claps you on the shoulder. ‘Come! Walk with me. I’ll have someone take your bags to your room. You can leave the keys in the car, it’s safe - but you keep any food to yourself or Jameson here will run away with it!’

The border collie barks at his name and Champ scratches him behind the ear, dispatching him with a wave of his hands.

Your host starts at a brisk walk. ‘So, how was your journey, young lady?’

You have to power walk to keep up with him as the gravel fades into firm sand. ‘Long, but glad to be here. I’ve been really looking forward to getting away.’

‘First time travelling alone, I assume?’ Champ smiles at you kindly.

You nod sheepishly. ‘I’m a bit nervous, to be honest.’

He laughs. ‘You’re entitled to nerves, but I promise you, you’ll forget all about that in three, two, one -’

Right on cue, you round the back of the lodge and you can’t help the gasp that slips out as you stumble to a stop.

The full landscape of the ranch comes into view beneath your feet. A picturesque river cuts through the green sweep of land, small lodges with matching red roofs are dotted all over one side of the bank, and bigger barn-like structures stand on the other. The Bighorn Mountains tower over the entirety of the property. You see horses grazing in a huge, fenced field, tails flicking lazily at flies.

Champ practically glows at your reaction. ‘It’s taken thirty years to get to where we are. I hope it will stand for many more decades to come.’

‘It’s - stunning,’ you say rather inadequately.

Champ winks at you. ‘Wait till you go into the mountains, my dear. Come along, now.’

You resume walking side by side, and he continues, ‘Now, since you’re our only guest this week, I can give you two options for your trip. We can do day-long rides with you, and you spend the nights here at the ranch. It’s more comfortable, but it does mean that you don’t get to go as deep into the mountains.’

Champ stops to take a breath. ‘Alternatively, you can go on a week-long pack ride with our cowboy and camp along the way, just the two of you. It's a magnificent journey, I can promise you.’

It’s a lot of information to take in so quickly, and you hesitate. ‘Um - ’

He holds up a hand at you and pauses abruptly, something catching his eye. ‘Ah, speak of the devil. Before you decide, you need to meet our cowboy. He'll be your guide for the week.’

You’re craning your neck to catch a glimpse when Champ bellows so loudly that you nearly have to take cover. ‘JACK! Son! Say hello to our guest for this week before you take the horses to pasture.’

Your ears still ringing, the silhouette of a man on horseback comes into view halfway across the yard. The dust seems to magically settle and part, and a handsome face framed by a cowboy hat, a tidy moustache and a wicked sharp jawline comes into focus.

‘Whoa.’

You belatedly realise that you said that out loud when Champ wriggles his eyebrows at you.

‘Howdy, ma’am,’ the cowboy calls back, tipping his hat politely. His voice rings brightly in the space between you, but the delicious lick of his Southern drawl makes goosebumps chase across your skin. You manage a weak smile and a wave, not trusting your power of speech at the moment.

‘Be back at four to take the lovely lady on her orientation ride, alright?’

Jack gives him a two-fingered salute. ‘Got it, boss. See you soon, ma’am.’

You watch unashamedly as the cowboy smoothly steers his horse around, and with a whistle, the dozen or so horses follow suit as he canters out of view.

‘So? What say you?’ Champ interrupts your thoughts with an expectant look.

You can’t help the stupid grin that breaks upon your face. ‘The pack trip sounds good.’

Champ claps his hands together so loudly that you jump. ‘Your wish is my command, ma’am. Or rather - Jack’s.' He winks. ‘He’ll pick out a horse for you and take you for a short ride to make sure you’re comfortable before the trip starts tomorrow. Sounds good?’

‘Perfect.’

Stopping outside one of the lodges near the river, Champ sweeps his arm in a flourish. ‘There we go, this is your lovely room for tonight, with the best views of the mountains. Poppy’s left some lemonade and sandwiches inside if you need a pick-me-up, and your bags will be with you shortly. Just make sure you’re ready by four. Got it?’ 

He holds up a hand to you, and you give him a high five. ‘Got it, Champ.’

‘Welcome to the Statesman, my dear.’ 

Watching you bound up the stairs with a spring in your step, Champ gives himself an imaginary pat on the shoulder. Well done, old chap. The plan is in motion.

You lay your outfits on the large bed as you chew on a delicious sandwich, weighing the options for your afternoon ride. You packed according to the list the ranch sent in your orientation email, but you wish you’d brought something nicer. They really should’ve included a hot cowboy warning.

You wanted to spend some time on the porch and enjoy the magnificent views of the mountains from your doorstep before the ride, but by the time you’re finally happy with your choice of clothes, you’re startled by rapping on the door.

Sucking in a steadying breath and smoothing back your hair, you turn the knob.

Fuck me sideways. This man is devastatingly good-looking on close inspection.

‘Hi, again,’ you smile, hoping your words didn’t come out as squeaky as it sounded in your head.

The cowboy returns your smile with teeth and tips his hat at you - black suede with a leather band - then offers you his hand. ‘Jack Daniels. Pleasure to meet you properly, ma’am.’

You give him your name and your hand. His grip is firm and assured, the slide of his palm against yours feels weathered and rope-worn. You cross your arms self-consciously, but the words that come out are bolder than you feel. ‘So, Champ says you’re my own personal cowboy for the week?’

He chuckles and plays along, giving you a small bow. ‘I’m at your beck and call, darlin’.’

His rich voice curls around every syllable, dipping and climbing with each inflection, but the languid cadence doesn’t waver. You decide here and then that this man can call you darlin' any time he wants.

He hooks one thumb through a belt loop, leaning his shoulder against the door frame. He runs his eyes up and down your body, both professionally assessing and not, lingering on your breeches, riding boots and half chaps. He arches an eyebrow at you and says in a playful tone, ‘So, I see you’re one of those fancy English riders.’

You gesture at the flannel shirt you’re wearing, the ends tied in a knot to give it a cropped fit. You think you look cute - hopefully. You choose to crack a joke, ‘Give me some credit, cowboy, I’m trying to fit in.’

He holds his hands up in surrender, pushing himself off the door. ‘My apologies, darlin’, where are my manners? The illusion is perfect. You ready to go?’

You grab your riding hat. ‘Absolutely.’

Jack takes one look at your helmet and tuts, plucking it from your fingers. ‘Oh no, that won’t do. That is one thing I don't allow on my rides. We’ll find you a real hat.’

It’s a short walk to the stables. You hang back with all the subtlety you can muster to quietly study the cowboy you’ll be sharing close quarters with for the next week. His walk is deliberate, he almost prowls, narrow hips undulating with the rhythm of his strut. When he reaches up to adjust his hat, his shirt strains over his broad shoulders, sleeves rolled up in the afternoon heat. Your eyes are about to dip a lot lower when he turns back to look at you, and you duck your head like you’ve been caught with your finger in the pie.

Are you imagining the touch of self-satisfaction that’s crept into his warm eyes?

‘So, how long have you been riding?’ he slows down so you can catch up with him. You’re relieved he doesn’t call you out on your very obvious appraisal of him.

You shrug. ‘Since I was a kid, but I haven’t been on a horse since - ’ You pause to rearrange your words. ‘- for almost five years. And I’ve always ridden the English way, so I don’t know how well I’ll do with Western riding.’

He brushes away your concern. ‘Western is easy, it’ll be a piece of cake for you, I’m sure.’

The stables are large and airy with rustic beams framing a vaulted ceiling. Utility barns are clustered outside in close vicinity, but all is still in the mid-afternoon hour. Your footsteps echo as you make your way down the concrete corridor, Jack’s sturdy cowboy boots treading heavier and louder than your riding boots. Large and tidy stalls line either side, some empty and some occupied.

‘The horses spend most of the summer outdoors,’ explains Jack. Stopping in front of a huge chalkboard nailed to the wall, he gestures at the daily schedule listed next to each name, written in a neat hand. ‘We keep them on a weekly roster to make sure their workload is evenly distributed.’

Resuming your slow course deeper into the stables, Jack asks conversationally, ‘What are you looking for in your horse for the week?’

It’s a broad question that you don’t quite know how to answer. You purse your lips. ‘To be honest? I don’t know, it’s been a while.’

‘Ok. Let’s put it this way - what’s important to you?’ He ticks off the options with his fingers. ‘Character? Temperament? Speed? Stamina?’

Is it just you or did his voice dip an octave on that last word?

Flustered, you struggle to come up with a reply. ‘Um - ’

Seeing that you’re overwhelmed, he wipes the slate clean with a wave of his hand. ‘I apologise, I didn’t express myself well.’ He changes tact. ‘Why don’t you tell me about your favourite horse?’

That you can do. You think about the last horse you really loved, before you met your ex, casting your mind back to long weekend afternoons at the local stables. The answer comes easily to you as your eyes fall to the tips of your black boots.

‘I like a horse that's forward-going but responsive to contact, and on the hot-blooded side with a bit of an attitude - I like a challenge.’ Feeling his eyes on you, you lift your gaze to his apologetically. ‘Sorry, was that way too vague or way too specific?’

‘Not at all. I appreciate a lady who knows what she wants,’ he reassures you, seemingly pleased at what he’s hearing. ‘I got just the horse for you.’

You must be in the middle of the stables structure now, when Jack makes a sharp right turn into a spacious room. Your eyes widen at the rows and rows of beautifully polished Western saddles, bridles and an assortment of other tack, some of which you don’t even recognise. Eyeing the signs above each saddle, you remark, ‘I see there’s a recurring theme in the names.’

Jack hoists a gorgeously embossed tan saddle off its rack on the wall, holding it against his side as if it weighs nothing, then grabs the bridle next to it and a saddle pad. ‘What do you expect from a ranch that also runs a distillery?’

Your eyebrows shoot up. ‘A distillery?’

‘Whiskey,’ he replies, making his way to the exit. ‘I’ll show you when we ride up the mountain, it’s on the other side of the ranch. Champ spends most of his time in the distillery nowadays.’

‘Can I help with anything?’ you ask, your hands feeling very empty as you trail behind him.

‘Not a chance, darlin’, you’re the guest. But you can watch if you want,’ he adds mischievously.

Lord have mercy. This man has gotten you more wound up in the last fifteen minutes with a few cheeky words than anyone has in a long time. Pull yourself together, woman.

You pass at least another dozen stalls - this is easiest the biggest stables you’ve ever seen - before Jack’s long strides ease, and at his whistle, the handsome face of a palomino pops up from behind a door. He nickers and nudges the cowboy familiarly on his arm, ears pricking up in alert when you come into view behind him.

‘Meet Scotch,’ Jack says in introduction, giving him a firm pat on the neck. With an easy swing, he rests the saddle on the top of the door and unlatches it, leaving it ajar for you to shuffle in behind him.

‘Hello, gorgeous,’ you can’t help but coo, running your palm from his forehead - painted with a fetching white star - to his grey, velvety muzzle. ‘He’s sweet.’

‘Wait till you get him on the open road - he’s a speed demon.’ 

You must have let your nerves show, because Jack reassures you, ‘But only if you want him to be. He’s just as happy going steady.’

You lean against the wall as Jack makes quick work of tacking up. You admire the gentle way he fits the bridle over Scotch’s head and the bit in his mouth. Reaching out, you help untuck his white mane from the browband, etched with pretty flowery patterns, and brush out the tangles with your fingers as Jack fastens the clasps.

You can’t help but catch your bottom lip with your teeth when, with a soft grunt, the cowboy lifts the saddle over Scotch’s back. His shirt, tucked neatly into his jeans, stretches taut and you eye the hint of a soft belly underneath. It rests above an almost obnoxiously large belt buckle in the shape of - are you shitting me - a flask with Statesman spelled out in capital letters.

You quickly look away before you’re consumed by the want to reach out and check if it’s a real flask.

The Western saddle has far more bits and bobs than you’re used to, but you’re too far gone to pay attention to what Jack is doing with his nimble fingers anymore.

‘There.’ He straightens, dusts off his hands and places them on his hips, one dark eyebrow up. ‘I hope you were paying attention, ma’am, I might quiz you later.’

Oh shit. You stammer, ‘Um, I mean, you were quite quick -’

Jack crosses his arms and smirks. ‘I’m pullin’ your leg, darlin’. You’re so easy to rile up.’

Before you can restrain yourself, you take a step forward and give him a playful shove in rebuke. The joke’s on you though - the pectoral muscle underneath your palm is lean and hard, and your push makes no impact at all.

‘Employee of the year, ladies and gentlemen,’ you jest, retracting your hand reluctantly.

He leans in close and gives you an almost insolent smirk, voice dropping intimately. ‘Stop distracting me, darlin’, or we’ll never make it out of this stall.’

Fuck’s sake - your cheeks literally flame. You’re about as subtle as a bucking bronco.

Taking mercy on you, Jack herds you out of the stall with no further teasing, and Scotch follows obediently behind. You’ve barely scraped your brains back together when he stops by a doorway at the end of the stables, holding up a hand that brings the gelding to a smart square halt.

‘Stay,’ orders Jack in a stern voice as if Scotch was just a very large golden retriever - he has the colouring after all. He then nods at you. ‘Come on in, darlin’.’

Stepping into the small room, you gasp in delight - every conceivable surface is covered with cowboy hats of all colours and materials.

‘Let’s see what your size is,’ Jack mumbles to himself as he plucks some options off the wall. There’s no mirror, and you hold your breath when he steps into your space, putting one hat after the other on you as he narrows down the sizing. His face is set seriously, the bow of his upper lip drawn downward, brow wrinkled in concentration.

Eventually, you run out of oxygen and you breathe him in - summer grass, leather and smoke. Your tongue darts out and wets your suddenly dry lips.

In the minutest of glances, you catch his eyes flickering to your mouth for just a second. If you weren’t looking for it, you wouldn’t have spotted the fleeting stutter in his movements as he fits you with a cream suede hat with a brown leather braid. It sits snugly on your head without any pinch.

‘Try tipping your head forward and back,’ he instructs you, breaking the quiet tension. The hat doesn’t slip, and with a tap on the brim and a smile, he declares, ‘I think we’re good to go.’

Stepping into the open air, the bright afternoon sun makes you wince, and you pull your new hat a bit lower to shield from the light. You follow Jack across the yard, heading towards a chestnut with white stockings, fully tacked and waiting at a wooden post. Ruffling his thick mane, Jack says proudly, ‘Darlin’, meet my horse, Whiskey.’

‘How very fitting,’ you remark, smoothing a hand on his strong neck. ‘Hi, Whiskey.’

Scotch, who has been following you two dutifully, bumps noses with his friend in greeting. Reaching for his reins, Jack looks at you with a question in his eyes - all the tacking up, prepping and joking around is done. Suddenly, the likelihood of falling off your horse and flat on your bum in front of the cowboy seems extraordinarily high. Maybe you really didn’t think this through -

‘Hey,’ Jack cuts short your thoughts, chucking you gently under the chin. ‘Don’t be nervous. It’s all muscle memory - like riding a bike, you can’t forget. You do know how to ride a bike, don't you?’

Your shoulders quake with a laugh at his attempt to lighten the mood.

He tilts his head at you. ‘May I give you a leg up, darlin'?’

At your silent nod, Jack brings Scotch around, and you hope he doesn't see you wipe your sweaty palms on your breeches. One hand on the saddle horn, the other on the cantle you bend your left calf up and back by the hinge of your knee. 

Jack steps in right behind your heels, his frame dwarfing you even as he leans down at the ready. One strong hand closes around your ankle and the other just below your kneecap. His voice is deep and brushes against the shell of your ear. ‘On three, darlin’.’

He hoists you up so easily that you nearly go all the way over the other side of the saddle, but you grasp the horn just in time and land squarely in the seat, albeit a bit clumsily. You can’t help but wonder what else he can do with his easy strength - a whole lot of other things, you reckon -

Scotch shifts underneath you as he adjusts to your weight. The basic instincts of being on horseback kick in slowly but surely. You gather the reins in your non-dominant hand, put the tip of your toes through the stirrup irons, push your heels down and sit up tall. You inhale deeply and smile at Jack, who’s checking the tightness of the girth and the length of your stirrups.

‘All good?’ he asks you.

‘Yes,’ you reply, relieved that you feel less like a fish out of water than you’d feared.

Jack unties Whiskey from the post. Slotting his foot in the left stirrup, he effortlessly pushes off the ground and swings his leg over the saddle, settling gently into his seat. It’s really not fair that he’s able to do it so easily in jeans that tight.

Whiskey starts leading the way towards the back of the property and Scotch follows, obviously not pleased to be left behind. Jack holds Whiskey back so that you’re walking alongside him. ‘You’ve seen people ride Western?’ 

‘I get the general idea. Reins in my non-dominant hand. Leg aids are similar.’

‘If you want to turn to the right?’

‘Reins to the right and shift my weight the same way,’ you reply, recalling the research you did before the trip.

Jack nods approvingly. ‘Sounds like you’ve got it sorted, darlin’.’

Going up a gently sloping path, the ranch disappears behind you as you begin to climb above the property, and the landscape dramatically opens up. Your breath catches at the sight of the rolling plains that stretch too far for your eyes to see, towards the Bighorn Mountains. Scotch’s ears prick up in excitement at the space, nickering and chomping at the bit. You keep your contact on the reins light even as he prances underneath you, mindful not to pull on his mouth.

Jack smiles, and you hope you're making a good impression. ‘Wanna warm up with a little lope?’

‘Lope? You mean a canter?’ you retort jokingly.

He chuckles at your cheek. ‘Alright, ma’am, look at you with your fancy words.’

With a stern finger pointed his way, you warn him, ‘You’re not allowed to laugh if I fall off, deal?’

‘I know you won’t, but for your peace of mind, I’ll cross my heart,’ he jokes and traces the motion over his chest with his thumb. ‘After you, darlin’.’

With the lightest nudge of your heels, Scotch steps straight into a smooth canter. The sudden movement jolts you forward in the saddle and out of balance, but you quickly adjust, and your hips begin to follow the flow of the familiar four-beat motion. The wind sings in your ears over the steady rhythm of hooves hitting the earth, the mountainscape blurring into green and blue.

Jack is keeping pace next to you from a safe distance, meeting your eyes when you send the biggest grin his way.

For the first time in months, you feel joy.

The sun sets on a mild evening, so you agree to an al fresco dinner by the fire when Jack poses the question to you on your return from the afternoon ride. 

After a quick shower and changing into casual jeans and a sweater, you meet the rest of close-knit Statesman team at the dinner table, and Champ explains the logistics of the pack trip to you.

‘Since it’s just the two of you, you’ll only need one packhorse. You’ll sleep outside for the first two nights, then on the third, you’ll get to the Halfway House.’

The peculiar name piques your interest. ‘Halfway House?’

Champ chuckles. ‘Halfway as in halfway through the trip. We’ll drive out to stock up the house, bring you fresh clothes and anything you’d need for the second half of the trip back to the ranch. We’ll also collect your dirty clothes and have them laundered by the time you’re back. So make sure you pack two bags, we’ll sort them out tomorrow.’

Turning to Poppy, he starts discussing the provisions for the trip, and you take the chance to shuffle closer to Ginger. Jack is at the far end of the table, deep in conversation with a man introduced to you as Tequila (you didn’t ask), so you’re sure he can’t overhear you. You clear your throat. ‘So, I was wondering what the… lavatory arrangements are like out there?’

She gives you a encouraging smile. ‘It’s all au naturale, I’m afraid. But there are plenty of bushes so privacy won’t be an issue. We bring a portable shower for guests for the days you camp out, and there’s running water and electricity at the Halfway House. But at this time of the year, Jack usually just washes off in the river.’

Your jaw drops at that revelation, and before you can close your big mouth, you babble, ‘Wow… um, by wow I meant… bathing in the river must be… cold?’

Ginger gives you a knowing grin and clinks your glass. ‘I think you’ll have a great time on this trip, honey.’

It’s early, as the first day of a pack trip always is. The chill from daybreak still clings to the thin mountain air, but the glare of the sun is already strong, even from behind his sunglasses.

Jack runs through his usual checklists. Vetting the horses, triple checking the tack, bedding, food, supplies, first aid kit. He’s collected your bag from your doorstep and loaded it on the packhorse. You pack light, which he appreciates.

He spotted you at the breakfast table earlier, almost done with your toast, when he crossed the yard with the horses, so he reckons you’re on track to make a punctual start. With the heat forecast, he wants to make it to the cover of the forest path before midday. If you make good time, a sunset dip in the lake is on the cards.

As he double checks if all the straps on the saddle bags are properly buckled up, his routine is disrupted by a firm pat on his back.

Champ is a bundle of energy even at this early hour of the day, his suit on just the right side of presentable despite the wrinkles. ‘Have a good trip, son, and make sure you show our guest a good time. I like this one.’

‘You like everyone, Champ,’ retorts Jack, but there’s no real bite in his words. ‘Not sure it counts for much.’

‘I got a good feeling about her, I’m telling you.’ 

The younger man sighs, one hand on the rump of the packhorse and one on his hip as he braces himself for the usual spiel. ‘C’mon, boss - ’

‘You’re young, you’re single! If you insist on hiding away on this ranch in the middle of nowhere, you might as well at least try to have a good time when the opportunity presents itself.’

‘Why don’t you bother Ginger about it? She’s young and single too,’ grumbles Jack as he resumes his checks.

‘Because I know she can take care of herself. But you?’ Champ makes a face.

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, boss,’ he grumbles. ‘Just so we’re clear, I’m not hiding from anything. I actually like this job, but half the time I think you’re just trying to get rid of me.’

Spotting you over Jack’s shoulder, Champ gives him one last clasp on the arm. He leans in and says in a low voice, eyes sincere. ‘You don’t have to punish yourself forever, son. Live a little.’

Jack shakes his head as Champ moves away and calls out to you, his boisterous voice carrying even further in the cold air. He knows Champ means well. It’s not the first time he’s tried to set him up with someone, and he can confidently wager it won’t be the last. 

He knows for a fact that his boss rescheduled the Kingsman’s annual trip to engineer this one-on-one pack trip - they’ve been coming to the ranch the same time every year without fail since he started this job. He has no doubt they were more than delighted to be in cahoots with Champ in a scheme like this. 

Jack huffs a dry laugh to himself. He must be coming off as really fucking sad for Champ to go to such lengths this time. 

He straightens his well-worn denim jacket as you approach, looking almost shy this morning. You’re wearing a light fleece over what appears to be the same outfit from yesterday, hands tucked into pockets, hat dangling from the chin strap looped around your wrist.

He gives you a smile. ‘Mornin’, darlin’. Sleep well?’

‘Morning. Probably not as well I should have, considering we’ll be sleeping on the hard ground for the next couple of nights,’ you answer with a yawn, leaning on the post where the horses are waiting. You rub their noses affectionately. ‘Morning boys, how are we this fine morning?’

Jack gestures at the third horse. ‘This is Bourbon, our packhorse.’

‘Hey Bourbon.’ You give the pinto a firm pat, smoothing out his matted forelock.

‘You ready?’ asks Jack.

You put on your hat and nod determinedly. ‘Now or never.’

‘It’s not too late to back out, you know, ’ he jokes as you both start untying your horses from the post.

‘Oh no, you’re not getting rid of me now, cowboy,’ you quip.

When you’re both mounted, Champ and Ginger make an appearance, waving and beaming from ear to ear as you ride by. Champ grins, ‘Have fun, we’ll see you in a week! Don't come back unless you have plenty of stories to tell!’

You retrace the same path you took yesterday, up the back of the ranch and into the mountains. As the orange sun crests the top of the Bighorn, it dawns on Jack that he hasn’t spent any amount of time alone with another person for a long while, let alone seven continuous days with someone like you. 

He shakes his head. You’re a guest, that’s all. One who hasn't lost your gentle hands and soft seat despite not having spent any time in the saddle for years; who is quick on your feet yet easy to fluster; who laughs at his jokes and poorly concealed innuendos - but a guest. It’s his job to keep you safe this week, and he’s good at it. He’s done this for years and years.

Sometimes, he thinks that it’s all he has. 

Something like anxiety gnaws at his chest. You’re quiet, and he picks up on the stiffness in your shoulders. He clears his throat. ‘Nervous?’

You turn to him at his question, sucking in your bottom lip. ‘I suppose. Not about the riding, but… I’m a bit nervous about spending the week with you, to be honest. No offence.’

Well, at least he’s not the only one.

‘None taken,’ he shrugs nonchalantly. ‘And don’t worry, darlin’. Ol’ Jack doesn’t bite.’

His pulse skips a beat when you send him an almost impertinent sidelong glance. ‘I hope you do a little bit, cowboy.’

It takes him a second to let out a bark of laughter, and your whole body relaxes at the throaty sound. ‘Maybe I’m the one who should be nervous, then. Shall we stretch our legs? Start the day with a lope?’

Scotch recognises the word and whinnies, tossing his head excitedly.

A gentleman at heart, Jack adds, ‘Or later, if you prefer. We can go as fast or as slow as you want, darlin’.’

A slow heat burns under your skin at his words. Surely he must know what that sounds like, especially in that raspy drawl of his.

It must be the altitude that’s throwing your judgement out of the metaphorical window. Brazenly, you drag your eyes over him. His left hand grips the reins loosely, resting casually on the saddle horn, thick fingers of his other are splayed on his firm thigh, hips rocking to the pace of his horse.

You meet his curious stare in a challenge, imbuing your words with as much meaning as you could, letting a coy smile stretch your lips.

‘Let’s go fast, cowboy.’

As soon as your heels touch his sides, Scotch takes off at a lively stride, and Jack watches you go with a chuckle to himself.

‘Careful what you wish for now, darlin’,’ he mutters under his breath, and then he comes after you - fast.

Notes: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this first part! Comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated. If you would like to be tagged in the next part, please fill in my taglist.

If anyone is interested, there are some more horsey notes below (if it's boring, please let me know and I'll shut up lol):

About 'gentle hands' and 'soft seat': a kind rider uses 'quiet' aids to communicate with the horse (i.e. no pulling on the bit or flapping legs), and follows the horse's movements with their hips (i.e. their seat) to be gentle on the horse's back. It's a very subtle skill and you use a lot of core strength that is built over the years - sitting quietly on a horse is much harder than it looks!

If you can't tell, I ride the 'English' way and have never ridden Western. I've done as much research as I could, but if there are any inaccuracies, please let me know!

[fific7]

Evil Twins - Part 1

Billy Russo & Aleksander Morozova x Reader

Summary: When two worlds which have already collided then collide with yours - that’s an explosive situation.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly a mix of fluff and angst with quite a lot of lemon zest 🍋 My Fantasy Punisher/Shadow and Bone crossover AU.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit)

New York City

Billy Russo awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed and grabbing for his Glock. What the hell? Thunder was rumbling loudly overhead and he sighed, putting the gun back under his pillow and laying his head back down. It was probably the bright flash of the lightning followed by the beginning of the thunderclap that had awakened him.

He was just closing his eyes again when he spotted something, only vaguely visible in the dim light from outside, in the corner of his room. It was…. swirling?

Grabbing his gun again, he sat up and pointed the Glock at the corner. It was getting bigger. “You’ve got two seconds to show yourself before I blow your fucking head off,” he announced, calmly.

He squinted a bit to get a better look but it didn’t make much difference. What the fuck was it?! Smoke? He decided he had no choice and leant over, switching on the wall-mounted bedside light.

The… smoke cloud?… was still increasing, becoming bigger and blacker with every second. Then he saw the vaguest silhouette of a tall figure within it, moving towards him. He leapt out of bed, on the far side of it so it was between him and whatever the fuck this was.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Aleksander Morozova - or General Kirigan, the Darkling, the Black Heretic, the Starless Saint, whichever of his many names he decided to call himself at any given point in time - could see a tall figure brandishing some kind of strange gun at him as he began to emerge from the swirling shadows.

Following certain unfortunate incidents - including a huge and furious argument with his darling mother - he’d decided it would be politic to get out of Ravka for a while, much as he didn’t really want to. But this wasn’t where he should’ve ended up. What was this place?

He emerged completely from the shadows and immediately felt something bounce off his kefta. He heard a ‘ding’ and looked down at the wooden floor at his feet. A bullet.

Looking quickly back up, he saw that the man opposite him was glaring at him, eyes wide and unbelieving, gun still pointing at him. He also realised that looking at this man was like looking in a mirror.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was dumbfounded. He’d just shot the fucker! And the bullet had bounced off him. Fuck. He threw the gun down onto the bed and slid his hand under his other pillow, pulling out his Ka-Bar. No way he’d get past that.

He took a moment to have a good look at the dude opposite him.

Dressed in riding boots and some kinda long black tunic thing, with a black fur-collared full-length cape over it. What a freak! Was he a goth or something? But then he realised something even freakier…. this guy looked exactly like him.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The two of them were still contemplating each other, when finally Billy spoke. “Who are you? And what are you?”

Aleksander laughed. “Usually it’s me asking those questions.” Billy huffed, “You’re in my fuckin’ apartment, so just answer them!” He saw the guy draw himself up, and he said, “I am Aleksander Morozova, also known as General Kirigan, commander of the Second Army of the Grisha.”

“Means fuck all to me,” grunted Billy. “One name not enough for you? And why do you look like me? Are you some kinda shapeshifter or somethin’?”

“I have many names because I am centuries old. And I don’t know what a… shapeshifter?…is,” said the other, “…but I am the Shadow Summoner. And who are you? Where is this?” he waved a hand round at the apartment.

Billy scoffed, “Centuries old?!! Oh fuck off. You’re the same age as me by the looks of ya! I’m Billy Russo, ex-US Marine Lieutenant and now CEO of Anvil. That’s a security company, mainly staffed by ex-military vets. And this….” he also waved his hand around, “…is my penthouse apartment in New York City.”

Aleksander shook his head, “I have never heard of that place.”

Billy eye-rolled, “How can you not have heard of New York?!” he asked, incredulously. “And what the fuck is a Shadow Summoner?”

“It’s becoming obvious we are from two different worlds. I seem to have been diverted from my intended course, I don’t know why,” shrugged Aleksander. “Well maybe it’s time you took off to wherever it is you were headed for in the first place,” said Billy.

“It seems that I have been brought here for some specific reason,” replied Aleksander, “and it also seems I cannot leave for the moment, I have already tried.” He waved both hands around, firstly extending and then curling up his fingers, watching them closely as he did but it was clear that nothing at all was happening. “You see? Nothing. It is worrying to me. My shadows are no longer obeying my commands at present.”

Billy sighed and perched on the edge of his bed, “Great! Just fuckin’ great! This is just…! So when can you leave?” The other man spread out his arms, “I have no idea.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Devon, UK

Way across the Atlantic, you were already hard at work in your little bookstore in Appledore, Devon. You had a snug apartment above the store and had filled it with lots of your favourite things. It was a cute little coastal town and you loved living there. The community was small and friendly especially in the winter months, only increasing in summer with all the tourists who came to stay. As long as you made a decent living during the holiday season - which you normally did - then winter was a much calmer, chilled time of year.

You added a final book to the new display in the centre of your store and stepped back to take in how it was looking. Yeah, not bad if you did say so yourself. It was comprised of a fantasy trilogy for young adults about some ancient guy who could summon up shadows, and was a bit of a villain from what you could tell from the story synopsis on the book covers.

Not your cup of tea, to be honest. Generally speaking, all types of action stories were more your thing - something with a bit of ‘va-va-voom’. In fact, you were looking forward to tonight when you’d decided you were going to sit down with a nice tub of ice cream and rewatch one of your favourite series. The one with a relentless avenging ex-Marine whose family had been killed and his psycho ex-Marines buddy. Who happened to be rather hot to your mind.

You sighed a little, heading back behind the counter. That was the only thing about Appledore. It was a lovely place, but there was a distinct lack of hot guys.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

New York City

Billy and Aleksander were sitting on separate sofas in Billy’s living area, eyeing each other warily. Aleksander had been trying to explain to Billy all about his world, the Grisha, the Fold, volcras, Ravka, the Sun Summoner, sand skiffs - as much as he could.

It had blown Billy’s mind, to be honest. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. In turn, he’d explained all about his military career and the shitshow which had eventually developed once he’d come back to New York. Aleksander looked as equally confused as Billy.

Billy sighed, “I mean, what the hell are you gonna do? You don’t belong here. I need to go to work in a couple of hours. I’m not leaving you here so I’d need to take you to Anvil with me, and you sure as hell can’t go out looking like that.”

Aleksander looked down at his kefta which he’d unbuttoned. His cape was draped over the back of the sofa. “What is wrong with the way I look?” he huffed. “S’pose I could always say you were going to a Comic Con,” muttered Billy. “A what?” “A Comic Con. it’s where fans of fantasy comics go to have fun. They dress up as their favourite characters sometimes. I could always say it was cosplay.”

Aleksander shook his head, “I still don’t understand what you’re talking about. Are you saying I’d look out of place in my uniform? All the Grisha wear these,” he pointed at his kefta. “Not what we wear here,” said Billy, “…and I still don’t get why you look so much like me.”

“I have no idea!” said Aleksander, through gritted teeth, “I told you that already!” “Alright, alright! Calm down.” “I AM CALM!!!” roared the other man.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

New York City

Slightly later that morning, Billy was showered, suited and booted and ready for work. He’d persuaded his uninvited visitor to put on a borrowed leather jacket of Billy’s over his kefta as Aleksander refused to take it off. He’d also made him put on a pair of black trainers, which he’d done very reluctantly. These two items had instantly transformed the freaky-looking guy into someone at least a little more acceptable to your average New Yorker.

Aleksander was wriggling around in the jacket, “It’s not very comfortable.” Billy heaved yet another large sigh - he felt like this was all he’d been doing this morning - “Look, just wear it! You’ll get used to it.” He noticed the other guy sniffing at the collar of the jacket, then his eyes lifted to Billy’s, “You wear perfume?!” “Men’s cologne,” snapped Billy, “or aftershave, as it’s also known because - guess what! - you use it after you’ve shaved!”

His fingers stroking his chin, Aleksander nodded, “Okay, that I understand. We do not use this perfume in Ravka.” “Cologne!” yelled Billy. “Fine, cologne then. Why don’t you like it when I call it perfume? That’s what it is, after all.” “Women wear perfume. Men wear cologne. Okay? Now c’mon, I’m gonna be late.”

Billy strode over to his front door and tried to open it. The handle wouldn’t budge. He shook it, rattled it, pulled the door handle back and forward, exerting more and more strength but nothing worked. He stood back from the door. “It won’t open,” he said, rather unnecessarily. He looked at Aleksander, “Is this you? Or something to do with you?” “No!” he protested, “I have nothing to do with this.”

A somewhat raspy female voice spoke from behind them, “No, but I do.”

The two men swung round, both gaping as they saw that there were what could only be described as rippling waves distorting the whole interior of Billy’s flat. The light had also diminished quite drastically and then they both saw a woman’s head and shoulders start to become defined and then fully visible in amongst the ripples. She seemed to float there at head height but she obviously wasn’t physically present.

“Mother!” exclaimed Aleksander.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Devon, UK

You snuggled down amongst the soft cushions on your sofa, tub of ice cream and spoon in hand and scrolled to the series you were looking for. It was quite gory in places but you loved it - except for the bit right at the end where the hot dude got killed. That made you sad although you couldn’t deny he definitely had psychopathic tendencies.

As you were looking for the one you wanted to watch, another series caught your eye in the ‘Suggested for You’ section. Hey, it must be based on that trilogy of books you had in the store right now. Maybe you’d give it a try after you’d finished your current one.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

New York City

“Mother?” echoed Billy, “….what’s going on here?!”

The woman’s head swivelled towards him then back to Aleksander. “My two boys, together again. How sweet.”

“What!?” said the two men in tandem. She gave a bitter laugh, “How I managed to produce two such problematic children, I’ll never know.” “What are you talking about, Baghra?” ground out Aleksander. Billy was just standing there, dumbfounded and looking between the two of them when suddenly her glare focussed in on him.

“Maxim.” Billy returned her stare, “I’m Billy!” he corrected her. She shook her head, “You will forever be Maxim to me. And as I’m your mother, do not argue with me. Now…. no doubt Aleksander has been making a great fuss about how he’s many centuries old, has he?” “He did mention it,” said Billy, begrudgingly. She nodded, “I thought he might have. Listen to me, both of you. You are twins, so obviously you were born within minutes of each other. To me.” The two men exchanged glances, before looking back at her. “It became obvious to me that Aleksander - from a relatively early age - was going to cause himself and everyone around him nothing but trouble and strife, so I took a radical step.” “What did you do, Baghra?” questioned Aleksander.

“If you’d have patience, I’m trying to tell you!” she snapped, before continuing, “I got one of the few Heartrenders in existence at that time to take Maxim out of Ravka to a secret location. There, he placed him in long-term suspended animation. When you…” she pointed an accusatory finger at Aleksander, “….started all that nonsense with the Sun Summoner and hunting for the stag, I travelled with another Heartrender to where Maxim was, and brought him out of his enforced hibernation. I had to protect him as there was no guarantee you’d survive, Aleksander.” She stared at his scowling face and carried on speaking.

“He had no memories remaining of his past life and so I took him into the forest, there is a portal there which only I know of. There used to be more knew about it but I am the only one left now. Other universes can be reached through it. And I decided to send Maxim to another one. This one. It was only three months ago in Ravkan time, but in this universe more than thirty years have passed.”

“Wait… what?!” Billy was pissed. “You… you just threw me into some portal and walked away? Not knowing where I would end up?” “I had to save one of my sons!” she spat out, “…the other one had lost his mind and was on a collision course with disaster!” Billy put his head in his hands, before looking up again and raging at her, “I was abandoned for a second time by the woman I thought was my mother in this universe! She was a drug user, a total mess! I was placed in an orphanage… it was terrible!” He saw a remorseful look pass over her face for a split second, “I am sorry, Maxim! But I had no choice. Then I had to step in again when he…” pointing again at Aleksander, “….was nearly killed by volcras. I managed to get him to the portal before he fully regained consciousness. He thinks it was his idea to leave Ravka after we had an argument, but I managed to plant that idea in his mind before I pushed him into the portal.”

Billy and Aleksander both snorted in unison, then glanced at each other again. Billy looked back at her, “You’re sorry? That doesn’t quite cover it. I went to war! And now I’m in a very bad situation due to things which went down in Afghanistan during that war.” Aleksander chipped in, “And how dare you make a decision like sending me to another universe without consulting me first?”

The sigh Baghra gave echoed round the apartment. “You are a pair of ungrateful whelps! And now it sounds like I have to get you of trouble too!” She pointed at Billy this time. “I firstly had to find some very old documents about it, but I managed to find out how to enter the limbo section of the portal, which this is, because I wished to speak to both of you before I sent you on your next journey.” She lifted her hands and swirled them around in a kind of ritualistic fashion, “Be on your way to the next universe!” she chanted, and suddenly the rippling got even more pronounced.

Billy and Aleksander began feeling overwhelmingly dizzy, feeling as if they were falling but in fact realised they seemed to be rushing through time and space.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Devon, UK

It was Saturday tomorrow so because you could sleep in a bit as you opened later, you finished the first series (but not the second one - it always upset you) of the one you’d originally been watching, and had then moved on to the one based on the trilogy.

You peered more closely at your TV screen - yeah! you were right, the hot bad guy looked so similar to the hot bad dude in the other series they could be twins! Was it the same actor? You’d need to check on the credits but it must be, surely.

No reflection on the series you were watching, but having finished your ice cream you dozed off during episode 6.

You woke up - you had no idea how much later - and as you sat up slightly, realised that you were feeling very strange. Standing up from the sofa, you were so dizzy that you collapsed back down onto it. You tried not to panic, but you’d no clue as to why you felt so unwell all of a sudden.

Then you noticed that your apartment appeared to be rippling. Rippling??!! What the…. The rippling waves began to die down a little and you were suddenly aware of two looming figures standing over you. Their outlines and features slowly became more defined, more solid, and eventually you realised you were looking up at both the hot bad dudes from the TV.

Of course you were.

Okay, your reeling mind said to you, maybe the celestial Powers That Be had been listening when you were complaining about the lack of hot guys in your town.

They were both looking down at you, clear interest in their eyes. Maybe because you were wearing silky shorts with matching tank T. Your sleepwear didn’t leave too much to the imagination.

So you stared at them, and they stared right back at you, although again you were acutely aware of two sets of very dark eyes roaming all over your body.

You wondered if someone had spiked your ice cream.

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[ackerfics]

the parent trap — levi ackerman (i)

— levi ackerman x female reader (modern au | the parent trap au)

— warnings: none, just two adorable little boys being idiots

— summary: two boys discovered that they are connected in more ways than they expected.

— word count: 6k (oops i regret nothing)

— author’s notes: i watched the parent trap recently and i had to do this. everything in this multi-part fic will be based on the parent trap and most of the dialogue can be found in the movie. this chapter doesn’t contain that much levi and the reader (they’re mentioned tho) but it contains bickering between two kids. happy reading !!

part two

Bright gray eyes stared out the window, onyx hair being ruffled by the wind, as the bus’ engine finally stopped at its destination with dozens of boys excitedly finding friends under the cooling canopy of trees of Camp Eldia for Boys. It was a good kind of chaotic, a boy of eleven thought even though he wasn’t used to so many people in one place at the same time (his dad hated it), as he kept his eyes peeled for an orange duffel bag. It was a bright shade and he couldn’t afford to lose it in this horde — he didn’t want to damage it, knowing that his dad specifically bought it for this summer getaway. A shoulder bumped into him, causing the young boy to lose his footing, but not before directing an icy glare at the person, who scurried away after getting a glimpse of his face. Huffing under his breath, he steadied himself while patting his shorts and denim jacket, catching a familiar orange in the pile of duffel bags as he rose his head. 

“There you are,” he whispered under his breath with a smile pulling on his lips, his feet carrying him to the pile. The moment he caught hold of the straps of the bag, a scowl replaced his smile, exclaiming, “For fuck’s sake!” as the camp’s staff dumped a lot of bags on top of his. Noticing the incredulous stare given to him by the green-eyed adult, the boy directed his irritated glare from the pile to him. “Do you need something? Or are you going to dump more bags in this pile?”

The green-eyed man rose his hands as if surrendering. “Chill, little dude, you can always get it out.”

The boy rolled his eyes.

“Okay, rude,” the staff murmured, walking away from the struggling kid. “Kids these days, having undercuts and piercings at a young age.”

The black-haired boy continued pulling on his duffel, occasionally cursing in various volumes. He didn’t realize someone timidly coming up beside him, looking between him and the orange bag. Right when he was about to call for help from the adults, the silver-eyed boy turned around, only to jump with his back on the bags at the sight of a boy his age looking at him curiously. Damn it, his lessons in social interaction with his nanny weren’t getting to him at the moment. “Hi,” he muttered, wary of the boy still staring at him with a tilted head. “Can I help you?”

“I think you’re the one who will be needing help,” the boy replied, nodding at the bags. “You know, with that.” A stretch of silence rang through while two pairs of eyes continued staring at each other, one narrowed while the other kind, the owner of the latter now walking to the pile of bags. “Here, let me help.” The boy effortlessly pulled on the strap of the orange duffel, the bag now free from the confines of the pile. The silver-eyed boy looked at the other person with wide eyes. Okay, maybe he wasn’t the same age as him, maybe he was a little older. The boy was taller than him by inches and it made him feel small. “First time in camp? I can tell since you weren’t fast enough in getting your bag from the staff.” The boy nodded at the adults flitting through the throng of pubescent boys. “My name’s Michael. What’s yours?”

As the black-haired boy opened his mouth to give it to his newly found friend (surprise for his dad because he made a friend hours after telling him he will have trouble getting one with his snappy attitude), the brown-haired, green-eyed man from earlier shouted, “Altair Ackerman!”

He rose his hand, “Right here!”

“You’re in the Ehrmich cabin!”

Altair nodded, turning back to Michael, who was grinning. “We’re in the same cabin.”

“Awesome.”

It wasn’t meant to be sarcastic but given the fact that he grew up with an always annoyed man as his father (though his dad was never seen with a scowl when he was around), Altair picked up some of the older man’s habits. The silver-eyed boy took in a deep breath and roamed his eyes around the camp, the countryside of his hometown reminiscent inside his mind, clogging his chest with nostalgia out of nowhere. He was starting to miss the hectares of small tea trees surrounding their estate that seemed to clear the air whenever he took his morning walks, even their quaint little tea shop boring their last name in the middle of their town (well, it was quaint but their numbers are increasing around their state, which is insane). After eight weeks of being with people he barely even knew, Altair was in for a wild ride. He would much rather race through their estate on his horse, Nox, than participate in friendship rituals or whatever camps do during the summer (don’t forget the camp sing-alongs that his father warned him about, giving him second thoughts at the last minute).

Every hour of his flight to Maine was spent thinking about why his father decided to ship him off to the other end of the country. For what? Altair will never know.

A honk interrupted Altair from his thoughts, eyeing the sleek black car entering the camp’s premises with furrowed brows. He can hear Michael express his awe beside him. Who in their right mind would choose to ride a borderline limousine inside a summer camp?

“Dang, the person in that must have a lot of money,” Michael stated.

Altair only narrowed his eyes in slight scrutiny. His small family also has a lot of money but he never once suggested to his dad that he will be arriving in camp with his horse. Plus, poor Nox wouldn’t want to be cooped up inside a ship just for that. “Maybe,” he muttered in reply to his friend. “Hey, do you play poker? My dad gave me cards for this trip.”

“I don’t know how to play poker but you can always show me the ropes.”

“Great.”

As the two boys went inside their cabin and greeting some of their roommates, the black car opened, along with a lean man surveying the camp with a watchful eye. Most of the children had their eyes curiously stuck on the vehicle and the man with light brown hair had to hold in his smug smile at their dashing entrance. Ducking down to address the person inside the car, he opted for smiling encouragingly at the onyx-haired boy — he doesn’t want to bite down his tongue in front of young children because that would be embarrassing. Feet enclosed in dress shoes stepped outside of the black car, beholding the sight of an eleven-year-old boy clad in a gray suit jacket and matching short pants. His hair fell right past his ears and touching the nape of his neck in tidy wavy locks, his hand clutching his stationery box.

The man behind the boy smiled before saying, “Here we are — Camp Eldia for Boys.” The man followed the boy, who was walking towards the side of the car with wide, admiring eyes. “We traveled all the way from London for this.”

The boy of silver eyes chuckled, the sound twinkling in the air. “It’s rather picturesque,” he glanced at the man with a huge grin, “don’t you think?”

The light-brown-haired man swatted a mosquito hovering close to his face, turning to the child with a sigh. “Not exactly the term I would use in describing this,” he paused, looking around the vicinity with narrowed eyes, “place.” He didn’t want to be rude now that he saw how the young boy stared at the cabins with bright eyes. He took the box from the boy’s hand, the latter giggling at his friend’s unamused face, and took out a small notebook and a pen from the inner pockets of his suit. Opening it to a checklist, he started, “Now, let us review your mother’s list.” At the sound of the young boy humming lightheartedly, he continued with a small smile, “Vitamins?”

The boy grinned. “Check.”

“Minerals?”

“Check.”

“List of daily fruits and vegetables?”

“Check. Check.”

The man stopped, staring at the onyx-haired boy with a raised eyebrow.

The young kid laughed. “Check for the fruits and another check for the vegetables. Go on.”

With a satisfied smile, the man continued listing items from the list — sunblock, lip balm, insect repellant, and the stamps that the boy will be using for the weekly letters. Then, he also gave reminders for the photographs if ever the kid misses his family members. All of this was answered with a huge smile, claiming the young boy had all of those in check, adding a, “You don’t need to worry. I got everything handled and packed safely in my luggage.”

“Oh, and before I forget, here’s a little something from Hange.” The older man presented something from his suit with a smirk. “Spanking new deck of cards. Maybe you’ll actually find someone on this continent who can whip your tush at poker.”

“I doubt it,” came the reply. The black-haired boy swayed on the balls of his feet, an endearing smile plastered on his face. “Thanks for bringing me here, Oluo.”

Oluo Bozado, the butler of the esteemed [Last Name] family was a dear person to the little boy and the extended members of the household, seeing as he witnessed how the mistress of the household took care of the young boy all by herself until he was a bright child ready for all sorts of adventures. Looking at the child of bright stormy eyes and hair as dark as midnight, the brown-haired man felt his lips tremble with the thought that his young master was starting to experience what it was like away from family. It was only a week before that the boy’s mother decided to present more opportunities for her son while she was away for a business trip in Greece. 

It was a great decision to bring along the child but it was more suited for him to mingle with people his age, knowing that he was homeschooled all his life. Now, Oluo was trying hard not to bawl his eyes out in the middle of this blasted summer camp so instead, he spread his arms for the little boy to give him a goodbye. Sniffing occasionally, Oluo muttered with conviction, “Now, you remember, if you ever change your mind and want me to come here and collect you at the end of the camp — we’re all only one phone call away.”

Chuckling at the antics of the butler, the dark-haired boy pulled away and patted the man’s back. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. You, Hange, and Mum shouldn’t worry too much. Though, Hange wouldn’t worry that much since they’re responsible for this suggestion. Nevertheless, I’m a big boy now. See you in eight weeks, Oluo, old pal.”

Oluo huffed lightheartedly. “I’m not that old, you know. It’s just the face. Keep safe, Caelum.”

Caelum grinned knowingly. The two then started doing their signature pact of friendship, which the child orchestrated the moment he started to be aware of his surroundings. Their hands clapped against each other, bumping their hips along an imaginary beat, sliding past one another, and ending the small show with a firm handshake and a smile on their faces. Oluo smiled softly and affectionately ruffled Caelum’s hair, making the wavy curls more pronounced. “Have fun, little prince.”

“I will.”

-

One week in camp and everything was going the way Caelum expected it to be. He made friends with a few campers, who were all chattering about how cool he was while entering the camp a while back, saying that he looked like a noble. All of their remarks will always be brushed off by the dark-haired boy. There was partial truth in what they were saying, his mother’s family solely responsible for why he acted like the way he is — regal. For a shorter explanation, Caelum was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Plus, he was spoiled a lot by his Mum’s best friend, Hange, who lived with them for he could remember.

(“Do you want to know why I live here, little bean? Except for being a freeloader—ow, I’m just having a laugh, [Name]! If you’ll excuse that interruption, I live here because this has been my home. Your Mum’s family accepted me after I came out to my parents. Aaaand, I get to see your cute face every day!”)

There were so many things that he loved while being on this little escape. One, this place was full of sunshine and laughter compared to his home back in London, not that he hated the gloomy thunderstorms and the sounds of the city back home, but it was nice to finally relax under the blinding rays of the sun. Two, the games were glorious, having to play alongside children around his age. It was exhilarating in the smallest of ways and it warmed Caelum’s heart. After getting their lunch inside the cafeteria (which consisted of a strange encounter from one of the camp directors, Nile Dok, saying that he saw someone who looked a lot like Caelum seconds before acknowledging him), the little boy roamed around the camp beside his friends. Ahead of them was a small gathering of campers and a staff, Eren Jaeger, Caelum learned. The adult was saying along the lines of challenging the reigning champion of fencing.

Caelum had to hold back his scoff.

He had a fencing teacher once and he was told that he could best anyone even if he would do it halfheartedly. Maybe it was the nostalgia bringing in the drive to be the said challenger but the silver-eyed boy found himself saying, “Can I challenge him?”

Eren didn’t look up from his clipboard as he answered, “Finally, someone stepped up. Okay, you can suit up there, buddy. Your fellow campers will help you get ready.”

“Got it.”

Once he was fitted with the white fencing suit, Caelum wiggled his arms as he released a deep breath. It’s been a while since he prepared for another spar, almost a year now, and he could only hope that he wasn’t rusty. Running his hand through his thick hair, Caelum placed the helmet snug around his head. Without waiting for their referee (who looked like they wanted to be at another place at the moment), the onyx-haired boy faced his opponent. He sized up the boy in front of him with blank eyes. It looked like they were of a similar build, with the boy bouncing at his feet every few seconds, which irked Caelum in the slightest. Maybe this would be the moment to be serious in something he thought he used only to pass the time. Lowering his stance with bended knees, Caelum neutrally positioned himself so that his opponent wouldn’t know if he was in the offense or defense. 

“Fencers ready?” Eren asked the two of them, eyes flitting between the two boys.

The boy in front of Caelum said, “Ready,” in the exact voice as him that it unnerved the black-haired boy.

Shaking his head, Caelum flipped his saber expertly in the air. “All set.”

“Tch, show-off.”

The silver-eyed boy felt his insides churn with annoyance.

“En garde, fence!”

Caelum immediately forwarded a couple of steps, taunting his opponent with light jabs as the other person defended his torso against Caelum’s attacks. Once he had the boy in the green fencing suit backed against the trees with nowhere to turn, the last thing Caelum expected was to have his adversary dashing for one of the trunks, gaining momentum for a second and jumping on the surface of the tree in a graceful turn, the other boy’s saber slashing the direction of the silver-eyed boy’s stomach. Caelum backed away with a jump at the last second, successfully dodging the boy’s attack, to which he failed to notice the glint of metal shooting towards his head. With his instincts, Caelum ducked down and made a counter-attack, zoning his attention on the opening on his opponent’s knees brandishing for his attention. Annoyance once again prickled Caelum’s being, bubbling in his stomach and reaching towards his head in migraine, as the other boy parried his consecutive offensive maneuvers until they circled the entire area for the camp’s games.

The onlookers could see how the two mirrored each other. When Caelum went for the overhead jab, the other boy would strike his rival’s lower body. It was a dance of parries and counter-attacks that some of them were starting to feel dizzy from all the constant back-and-forths between the two children. Even Eren, who was starting to think that accepting this job for the summer was a total waste, perked up while the two boys continued meeting their weapons in parries as their little feet brought them to where the pavilion was situated. The green-eyed man even called for one of his friends, Reiner Braun, to watch the exciting fencing tournament. With bated breath, every pair of eyes watched as the boy in green had his saber thrown away by a flick of Caelum’s sword, leaving the former with nowhere to go and no weapon to deflect the point of the saber’s tip on his chest.

Right when the audience thought the two were done (Eren was about to announce the winner), the boy in green lost his balance from Caelum’s push, his body going over the railings of the pavilion and into the small washing area by the side of the establishment.

“What the fuck?!”

Caelum swore he heard the entire audience gasp.

The only question in his mind was ‘what was the reason?’ Was it the curse words or the fact that he just pushed his opponent in a tub of water that could’ve seen better days?

Pursing his lips, the silver-eyed boy leaned over the railings and reached out a hand. “Sorry about that, let me help you.”

“No, let me help you.”

Water entered Caelum’s helmet as he toppled over from the force of the other boy’s pull. He slowly looked over at the other person occupying the tub of water after sitting up. He could feel his eye twitch from behind the soaked helmet. There was a distinct chatter in the background, asking both boys if they were alright. Eren might have called over his friends and now they were fussing over the two with concerned and amusing questions. And yet, Caelum never strayed his glare from the person in front of him. 

“What did you do that for?” Caelum seethed.

“Me?!” The boy all but screamed at his face, his hands gesturing between them. “You pushed me in, you idiot!”

“I did not!”

“I’m sorry I ruffled your feathers, gentleman,” the boy spat.

“Okay!” Eren interjected, coming forward and crouching to meet the boys’ eyes. His earlier expression of boredom was now switched into something bright as he looked back and forth the two boys. “That was awesome, little dudes! Are you sure you two didn’t enter any kind of fencing competition?” When he saw that the two had opposing answers, he grinned. “Campers,” he called out to the children surrounding him, “I think we have ourselves a new camp champion, from London, England — Caelum [Last Name]!” Eren stood up to his full height, watching as the two boys took off their helmets, backs facing one another. The said champion shaking his head and splashing water droplets like a dog while the other boy raked his hand over his short hair, slicking back his haircut. The green-eyed man noticed something from the two but he extinguished his curiosity with a, “Alright, dudes, shake hands. We love and promote sportsmanship in this household.” Preventing a chuckle from coming out since the boys didn’t budge from their positions, Eren once again tried, “Come on, little dudes.”

Altair has never been surprised even once in his life but the moment right now shook his entire world.

It was like viewing himself in the mirror.

Even though the boy in front of him had longer hair, there was no mistaking how his heart was pounding inside his chest, breath taken away at the uncanny resemblance between him and this boy from England (posh accent and all). He vividly read somewhere that seven people around the world looked exactly like a single individual, remembering how he thought that was cool enough for his seven-year-old brain. Maybe this was it. But he knew better because the more he stared shell-shocked at the boy with waves for hair, the more the feeling like he knew him bubbled inside his stomach. The boy seemed to think similar thoughts as him at the moment, stretching his hand for a tentative handshake that was long overdue (probably a couple of minutes, like Altair cared). 

A zap.

A bolt of electricity.

It trickled in Altair’s whole arm until he pulled away from the boy’s grasp.

He was never big on physical contact, to begin with. Yeah, that’s the reason why he pulled away so quickly and not the possibility of sharing something common with the boy who looked like him. Brushing everything off just like his dad always did, Altair scoffed, purposely wiping his hand on his pants exaggeratedly as he stated, “Why is everybody staring at us?”

The boy stared at him like he grew a second head, which sparked irritation in his veins. “Don’t you see it?”

Altair lazily looked around. “See what?”

Furrowed eyebrows graced the pretty boy’s expression (by calling the boy pretty, he was practically calling himself pretty, and Altair had no complaints about that). “The resemblance between us, you tosser.”

“What?”

“I said—“

“I heard what you said.” Altair stepped forward a little to glare at the boy. “What did you call me?”

The boy rose his chin a little in the air. “A tosser.”

“I swear to God,” Altair murmured under his breath, a smile of disbelief painted his lips, “if you don’t stop calling me names in your slang, I’d really be a tosser because I will fucking toss you and your stuck-up ass in the lake right now.” He continued surveying the boy with eyes full of disdain. “And what resemblance? I don’t see a thing because you look nothing like me.” The other boy’s face contorted into that blank mien that he was sure only him and his dad could pull off. The bags under the boy’s eyes became prominent as he matched Altair’s stare. Huffing indignantly, Altair continued, “For your information, your eyes are much closer together than mine. Your ears … it makes you look like a rat. Your teeth are crooked. Oh, and that nose? Don’t worry, those things can be fixed.” Satisfaction made Altair’s chest puff in confidence at the offended look on the boy’s visage. “You want to know the real difference between us? It’s—“

“I know how to fence and you don’t?” The boy taunted. He placed a finger on his chin as if contemplating something. “Or I have class and you don’t? Just take your pick, good sir.”

“You little shit—“

“Try me, you fu—“

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Eren interrupted, placing a hand on both boys' shoulders. “Let’s break up this little lovefest of yours. Caelum, Altair.” Then, at the next second, the man became confused. “Altair, Caelum. Caelum? Altair? Oh, holy shit, this is giving me a whiplash.”

-

The following weeks were pure hell that Caelum was convinced this was his punishment for eating Hange’s stash of their favorite butter cookies. He could remember how they screamed bloody murder for whoever finished their special tin, with Caelum’s mother calming them down and saying they probably forgot eating them. Nobody knew who ate them, well, except for Oluo since the butler caught the young master in the act.

That Altair kid definitely knew how to handle a grudge, throwing pranks at Caelum left and right, causing the latter to retaliate in the most mature way possible — giving the boy who looked like him a taste of his own medicine. It all started when Caelum was defeated at poker the night after they had their fencing competition, defeated by Altair to be precise. That pompous idiot thought it was funny to taunt Caelum into diving into the lake naked and leaving him behind while Altair’s little posse took away his clothes. It was mortifying, walking back to his cabin stuttering because of the cold, no clothes to keep him warm. That spurred him to take revenge, asking for his cabinmates’ help in getting out the Ehrmich cabin’s beds for all the campers and camp directors to see. It only got worse after that. It was all fun and games until Altair got Nile Dok and his assistant, Floch Forster, in his ultimate prank to humiliate Caelum, turning the Mitras cabin into a mess of honey, whipped cream, water balloons, and feathers.

While Nile was screaming for Caelum and Altair to pack their bags, the former turned to look at his doppelganger with lifeless eyes. “You are without a doubt the lowest, most awful person on the planet.”

Altair couldn’t help but smirk devilishly. “Thank you, thank you very much.”

Nile decided that the fitting consequence was to put the two of them in the isolation cabin. Caelum doesn’t know if that will help with their situation. He was convinced they will kill each other if they’re cooped inside a smaller cabin. 

The first night in the isolation cabin was turning out quite nicely for the longer-haired boy, taking out his journal to write the significant events that happened during the day. He was peacefully enjoying his solitude that he didn’t notice Altair huff every second while glaring at the overhead light bulb that served as their only light source. At the umpteenth wordless complain, Altair had enough of it, sitting up in his bed and turned the lights off. The whole cabin was bathed in darkness, making Caelum flinch since he was immersed in writing out his inner thoughts of decapitating the person sharing his space at the moment. With an incredulous stare directed at the boy across the room, Caelum turned on the lights, which resulted in a battle between the two boys and making it seem like the isolation cabin was infested with ghosts.

After an entire week in the isolation cabin, there was a thunderstorm warning around the camp. As some of the campers screamed while looking for shelter one afternoon, Altair was organizing the posters plastered on his side of the room. The other person occupying the cabin was trying to distract himself by playing solitaire. The short-haired boy wanted to make casual talk since the silence has been stifling for the past hours but his anxiety-ridden gut got the best of him so he chose to stay quiet while fiddling with the poster of his favorite show. A strong gust of wind then blew from the opened windows, making his posters fly around the room.

Caelum looked up from putting a card on one column and immediately stood up to help the boy struggling with closing the window. “Oh, no,” he murmured when he saw the mess. With occasional glances, he planted his hands on one side of the sliding window and pushed. He didn’t miss how Altair looked at him with a weird face. The longer-haired boy didn’t care as he pushed the window, stopping the howls of the wind. Feeling the stares drilled at the side of his head, Caelum met Altair’s stare with a small half-smile before nodding towards the posters scattered over the floor. “Need help with that?” A nod was all Caelum needed to pick up the posters with Altair, a comforting silence blanketing the two boys. In the midst of their tidying up, he noticed a stuffed toy lying on top of some newspaper clippings. Thinking that Altair will act rashly again, he hesitated, “Oh, here’s your…”

Altair turned to the other boy, breathing a laugh through his nose and taking the stuffed bunny from Caelum. “Snuffles. For having a tough-boy persona, I don’t look like the kind of person who owns a stuffed toy, right?”

“Not at all, I think it’s pretty normal.” Smiles were shared, with the longer-haired boy fidgeting with his fingers, needing to break the silent atmosphere. “No pictures were ruined, right?”

“You don’t have to worry,” Altair replied with a slight smile, eyes still on the posters. “You were fast enough in helping me with the window.”

“Home has pretty much had this weather most of the month. I guess I developed the reflexes there.”

Altair hummed, looking inquisitively at the wavy-haired boy. “How far is London anyway?”

“Well, from here it’s 3,000 miles, but sometimes it seems much further. How far away is your home?”

“California’s at the other end of the country.” Altair looked at the side and picked up a photo. “Here’s a picture of my house.”

Caelum peered down at the picture and immediately thought it looked, “Amazing.”

“I know, right?” Altair flashed a proud smile. “Dad built it when I was a baby, at least that’s what he said. We got this incredible porch that has a cool view of the tea tree plantation and then there’s this pool in our backyard. Petra, my nanny, will always scold me for staying too long in the water or for walking around the plantation until nighttime. I also have this beautiful horse that Dad gave me for my tenth birthday, she’s amazing, her name’s Nox, by the way.”

“Who’s that?” Caelum pointed at a black-haired man, who only had his back on the photo. The man was dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and some jeans. Even though he never saw the man in person, there was something about that physique that screams familiarity, very much like how he first met Altair. 

The other boy blinked before grinning. “That’s my Dad. He’s like my best friend since nobody wanted to befriend me for being snappy. We kind of did everything together. He didn’t know I was taking his picture or else he would turn around and tell me to take a picture of the house instead. He doesn’t like his picture taken, says he doesn’t like the sound of the cameras or how it exposes him.”

“Why?” Caelum asked curiously with a pinch in his chest. Must be complete to have someone you can call Dad. 

Altair shrugged. “Beats me. Every time someone wants to take a picture of him and our teahouse, he would decline. But, the only pictures that he was in were the ones that have my mom in them. That disappeared when I found out about it though.” At the expression on Caelum’s face, the boy tried asking what was wrong, only to be told that the room was getting chilly. As Caelum stood up from the floor and went to his bed, Altair followed suit and opened the trunk at the end of his bed. Taking out something that always cheered him up, he lifted it so that the wavy-haired boy could see it. “Want some Oreos? I know you’ll find this weird but I eat them with peanut butter.” He then took out a jar of peanut butter from his things.

“That is weird.” Caelum saw how Altair’s face slightly dropped, so he continued, “That’s weird because I eat Oreos with peanut butter, too.”

Altair took a seat on Caelum’s bed, a few feet separating the two boys. “Finally someone who appreciates the combination. Dad always told me it’s disgusting even though I’ve seen him eat Oreos with peanut butter a couple of times for his midnight tea.” Opening the box of Oreos, Altair offered one to his newfound friend, to which Caelum took gratefully. “So what’s your dad like? Is he one of those workaholics who always go home late and leaves the house before you wake up? Or is he those types who spoil you with all the time in the world while still keeping up with his job?”

With a small smile, Caelum answered, “I don’t have a father. I mean, I had one once, I suppose, but my parents divorced years ago.” He looked down thoughtfully. “My mother never even mentions him. It’s like he evaporated into thin air or something.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair before taking another Oreo from the packaging.

“It’s scary how the way nobody stays together anymore.”

“Tell me about it.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m turning twelve on December 24.”

Altair choked, swiveling his head to the boy beside him. “That’s my birthday, too!”

“We have the same birthday,” Caelum trailed off, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “How weird is that.”

“Extremely,” the short-haired boy answered, looking out the window the next second. “Hey, would you look at that? It finally stopped raining.” Standing up from the bed, he stretched his arms into the air and sighing in satisfaction. “Come on, Cae, let’s get some popsicles from the mess hall. It’s always good to eat something cold in this weather.” He went outside the cabin until he noticed that the door didn’t open after him. Curiously, Altair looked up from the bottom of the stairs, meeting the stare of his perturbed friend. “Hey, are you alright?”

Caelum was fidgeting with his sweater, looking at anywhere except for the boy at the bottom of the stairs. He leaned against the railings before speaking out what was bothering his mind since he saw the picture of Altair’s father, “Al, what’s your mother like?”

Stuffing his hands inside his pockets, Altair answered, “She’s not exactly in the picture in our little family. I mean, she and Dad split up when I was a baby or even before that. I never met her and Dad never talks about her every time he’s at the house.” He then remembered the picture he stole from his father’s nightstand after trying to find the photo album with his parents in it. “But I know she’s really, really beautiful. Probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, even if it was just a picture I stole from Dad’s nightstand.”

“Do you have that picture right now?”

“Yeah? Hey, I’m getting hungry, let’s get some lunch.”

The wavy-haired boy turned around, leaving Altair outside of the cabin. “Don’t you realize what’s happening?” When he faced the boy following him, he saw how Altair jumped an inch at how quickly he turned around. Holding back a snicker, Caelum continued his theory, “Look, I don’t have a father and you’re also missing your mother. We’ve also never seen our missing parents. You have one picture of your mum and I also have one picture of my dad. Well, at least you have one whole picture, mine’s a pathetic crinkled little thing and ripped down the middle ...” He stopped his rambling when he saw Altair dashing his trunk. “What are you rummaging in your trunk for?”

“This.” Altair pointed at the picture in his hands. “This is the picture of my mom and it’s ripped down the middle, too.”

Caelum also went to his desk, taking out a tin box where he kept all the photos of his family members. He slid out a ripped photograph and went back to his friend’s side. “On the count of three, let’s put it together.” 

“One.”

“Two.”

Together they shouted, “Three!”

Like puzzle pieces, the two ripped parts became a whole picture again, like the two boys inside the small cabin as they looked at each other and realized they share more than just their birthdays and love for peanut butter Oreos.

-

“I have this crazy yet genius idea!”

“I hope this doesn’t concern another dip in the lake.”

“No, this is better.” A crazy glint in Altair’s eyes appeared. “Let’s switch places when we go home.”

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S5 Ep 21: Joey Takes A Snack at that Cray Sauce

Hey guys! The 17 yo cat with kidney disease I was out of town watching lived to see another week (she was a very good girl). Which means now I can get back to the good stuff. This episode is brought to you by the colors red and orange, and I hope you like this color, and I hope you like this after effects they CGId onto this volcano.

Anyways, they first have to do this familiar ledge fall, because, it’s Yugioh, and if there’s a bunch of lava, Tristan wants

in

that.

And then Joey decides...hey you know what? I’m gonna jet. And...it’s not the first time he’s pulled a wild card and been unpredictable, I mean none of us can really forget that time he decided to get murdered by Mai instead of going in a straight line towards the end boss last season, but this time it was kind of funny how it was hastily composed.

And off he goes, folks.

As he left, Tristan was like “Ya dummy!” and Tea was like “nono, we gotta encourage him--run Joey! You can do it! See? Now he’s gone.” and it’s like...Tea is either trying to kill Joey with her support or honestly thinks that’s good support and I can’t fully tell which she is.

(read more under the cut)

It’s at this point that Grandpa has the gall to say “Did any of you happen to catch the lore? I fell asleep during that part.” Just like my Dad when we watch any movie as a family.

Meanwhile, maybe 100 ft away from them, Joey is in mortal peril but it’s Joey, so he’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.

In fact, this episode seems like it would have been a better arc if it stretched out more episodes because the Joey neglect happens so quickly and out of nowhere that it’s...less organic than your average children’s show. Honestly it’s kind of funny how fast the fall of Joey Wheeler happens this episode. And I think it could have been a fun interesting time if it was handled better but youknow...it’s crammed into one single episode and you’ll se what happens.

As Yugi ruminates a cool thing that would have been really interesting this season--like running into more rando’s from other periods of time than just Alexander--Tea looks across the lava highway and was like “found it.”

Back at the dragon situation, Joey starts opening his heart to this dragon and it’s like...did they originally intend for Seto Kaiba to be here? Because I guess Joey uses Red Eyes a lot, but I also skip a lot of the card games, so when I think “who likes the dragon card?” Joey is not the first one I think of.

That and like he got over his Atlantis dragon card like hella fast, right? Like totally already over that?

And also if you thought Joey would pull out his other dragon to try and communicate or get a hold of this dragon like...nah.

Back at the fort, these guys decided to ditch Joey to get to this sword at the top of a volcano to solve the riddle, and what follows is some weird ass canon.

As I’m pulling up my Google Doc with my deathcount on it, Tristan decides this is the time he won’t freakin die and turn into a robot monkey for 15 episodes.

And he makes a huge ass green dragon. You’d think this MASSIVE dragon would do more in this episode, but nah. Although he pulls out Massive Dragon, it’s like kind of worthless, so he mostly puts it back in his pocket.

And then Tea pulls this elf chick out and it’s freakin hilarious because look at her giant elf.

Like Tea is not a small person! Are Yugioh monsters all 12 ft tall???

Yugi is also all ham about fusing with his dude now. It knocked him out a couple episodes ago, but Yugi is so keen on destroying his body that he’s back in clown town. And like...took his Grandpa for a ride, I guess, although I’m pretty sure Summoned Skull has wings.

Course, Summoned Skulls insides are his outsides...and I dunno if you’d want Summoned Skull to give you a big hug and carry you around. Summoned Skull just seems like he’s sticky.

And, once they make it to the top of the volcano where the plot sword lives, we first have to visit this plot twist of the century.

YEAH.

OUT OF NOWHERE.

THIS EPISODE IS NOT LONG.

Aaaaaaand now Joey is going to try and kill everyone here. I did not skip anything, PS, Joey dipped off-screen.

PS, everyone’s reaction to “I will kill you!” was a whole lot of rolling their eyes at first being like “Joey, stawp.”

So, now that Joey’s randomly possessed by this dragon, we get a peek into what Joey’s brain zone looks like. It’s a whole lot of nothing in between his ears.

Consistent to S1 actually, when we had a bit of a Joey Brain Zone moment. It was a blank void there, too.

So apparently Joey decided, back when he was confessing his love to Red Eyes Black Dragon, that he would jump on it’s back to calm it down--and it just...fused with him. So...now he’s a dragon.

Sure, I guess. I mean...there’s really no limit on what a Duel monster can’t do, so I’ll allow it.

The team tries to just say “ah screw it” and pull up this sword themselves (you can kind of see it in this shot) and the sword just slurps into the dirt even more out of spite. Seeing that there’s a bit of a time limit, Grandpa pulls this one out of his back pocket.

Yo, Grandpa’s not even possessed. Hey, remember that time that Grandpa nearly died giving Arthur Hawkins the last of his water back in Egypt? Remember that?

Like uh, you can definitely tell this was made by a different team that may not have gotten that cue card. It may have been lost in the mail. Either way, kind of a hilarious heel turn on Grandpa’s personality here, although it does make logical sense to save most of the kids from sacrificing one kid. It’s just...that kid is Joey...so...that’s like his adopted Grandson, right?

So Yugi does something very on brand for Yugi and invades a brain.

And like...obviously Yami and Yugi would say no to this. They would never do this. Not after all the dozens and dozens of times they have sacrificed the world and everything for their best friends.

But...maybe just this one time we can kill Joey? As a treat?

So uh...Yami hella vaporizes Joey with his new powers. Luckily, Joey Wheeler has Shaggy Doo energy and just...he survives it for some reason. I don’t know why he isn’t dead, maybe because the dragon made him stronger? Eh, don’t do the math (on any part of this episode).

So Joey gets up and is like “I know the answer to the riddle!” As the sword kinda melts into the volcano and Gramps is like “Well we’re dead, actually, so no one cares!”

And Joey’s like “Look!” and he hops onto the back of the Red Eyes Black dragon and reveals this random thing:

Because it turns out, that the dragon was the real problem and not this volcano with a sword in it.

Which youknow...could have been cool if this episode wasn’t so many insane plot points so quickly. Kind of a lot of episode here. This episode could have been a whole season of a show.

Like how long was Joey Possessed by Marik in S2? Like 5 or 6 episodes? And you can see how much more successful it was at selling the story although it was a lot of the same themes and ideas. Pacing is important.

And then Joey passes out from the suit juice.

Which is when we get one more Alexander cameo, just kinda watching them leave and onto the next arc of their little journey.

They sure did put a lot of eyeliner on Alexander the great, and, being real...he may have actually been wearing a hell ton of dope eyeliner when he was alive, so this could be historically accurate, for all we know. Those old marble statues used to be painted, after all. Maybe they had dope Yugioh eyeliner down to his cheekbones? One can wish.

And like if you ever get the time--seeing what those marble statues looked like with paint on it is so freakin goofy and fun, I love it. I love that for 600 years we thought those marble statues were supposed to be naked and white but it’s like, nah man--this guy’s just wearing a skin tight breast plate and when you paint it, it’s so garish it’s like a freakin clown outfit.

But anyway, that’s all for now! Hope y’all have a good weekend, and as always, here’s a link to read these in chrono order, if you just got here!

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[denkamis]

bnha characters as cheesy valentine’s day tropes.

masterlist. | valentine’s day event masterlist.

warnings: none! some swearing, but a lot of fluff for the best boys

characters: shouto todoroki, denki kaminari, eijirou kirishima, tamaki amajiki

notes: dedicated to @nekomanagers / @meilbox ,, for being the most supportive human being in my life and undoubtedly the reason i have been posting so much of my work here on this blog. thank you for dealing with all of my shenanigans on and offline, and for picking me up when i felt like i couldn’t. <33 i love you.

shouto todoroki

flowers & chocolate as gifts

he’s one for the classics

he buys you the most gorgeous flowers, ones that are most definitely your favourites mixed in with an arrangement of others that all have particular meanings to them

he also got you expensive truffle chocolates, and also some cheaper ones that you really like to snack on

he’s so thoughtful, it makes your heart melt

literally so sincere as he gives it to you too, has a whole ass speech prepared

shouto came home after work a bit later than you had expected him to. perhaps he got caught up with some hero work, a report that needed to absolutely be filed today or a villain that just wouldn’t let up. either way, when you heard the front door to your shared apartment open, you came running over to greet him. as you turned the corner to see the front door, there stood shouto with the most breathtaking bouquet of flowers you had ever seen in your life. it was a myriad of colours and petals of all kinds standing out against the white of his suit. since when did he have time to change after work to surprise you like this? his usual aloof expression was replaced by a soft smile, one that was reserved for you and only you, “happy valentine’s day, my love.”

he strolled over to you, initiating a kiss that was slow and passionate. it made your heart melt right on the spot, your face erupting in nothing but pure warmth. “shouto, these are beautiful,” you told him as you took a moment to admire the different flowers that went into assembling the collection in his hands. “these ones mean gratitude, and this one here means love. truth is the white coloured one,” he pointed out, guiding you through the meaning of each individual one that made up your special gift.

he snuck a glance at you, your face radiant with how much you were smiling at his thoughtful present. “i also bought you a few of your favourites,” shouto gestured to the vanity you two kept by the door. you turned to see a very expensive box of truffles and a few hershey's kisses paired with more of your favourite corner store chocolates.

“it wasn’t too much, was it?” shouto asked quietly, watching as your jaw dropped at the sight of the truffles. didn’t you hear a rumour once about how those ones literally had gold integrated into their wrappers?  “no no, it’s wonderful. this is.. you’re so sweet,” you giggled, tapping his chest as a signal for him to lean down so you could kiss him again. no matter how many times shouto gifted you flowers and chocolate on valentine’s day, you got the same butterflies as you did when he first gave you these heartfelt gifts back in high school.

denki kaminari

fancy dinner date at an expensive restaurant

the entire bakusquad was EGGING HIM ON for something good on valentine’s day okay

he’s been talking big game about some kind of secret plan he had in store for the both of you

he bought you an outfit that not only suited your style, but was elegant and absolutely stunning as it complimented your figure

he pulled out all the stops for you

he wanted to be classy, so he reserved a table for two at one of those rooftop restaurants so you two could dine and enjoy each other’s company

“like grown ups” as denki says

you were sat at a candlelit dinner for two near the edge of one of the most highly rated restaurants in your area. denki had really gone all out, wanting to treat you like the resilient and beautiful partner you were to him with a night that would be unforgettable.

and unforgettable it was.

you two were arguably the loudest ones at the restaurant, laughing and overall just having a good time amongst such high class individuals. denki was making faces at you across the table, making you choke back on the red wine you were having. “and then bakugou slapped that dude! it was crazy, y/n, super fucking wild,” he laughed as you nodded your head in agreement. denki sure knew how to talk, filling in conversations with anecdotes and playful conversation topics sprinkled in with compliments for you. he loved you so damn much, he felt like his electricity quirk was on all the time with you from how much you turned his brain to mush.

he couldn’t get over how gorgeous you looked tonight, with your hair done and your outfit styled to perfection. like, that was all his? and a personality to match? damn! he felt like for once, he was doing something right in his life for you. he wasn’t the dumbass everyone constantly made him out to be. he was trying to be the best for you, and if he could make you happy for the rest of his life, then nothing else mattered to him.

your waiters came back with two platters in hand, with outrageously small portion sizes that could feed maybe a small cat at best. the two of you stared at each other with blank expressions. oh no, this would not be enough to appease your appetites. each of your plates were worth twelve thousand yen, so you really couldn’t get more. on top of that, denki had prepaid everything for tonight anyways. what was worse was that the food tasted like a rat’s ass, yet the two of you dined like kings regardless. well, you pretended to at least. as you were suppressing your disgusted expressions out of kindness to both the waiters and the other guests, denki couldn’t help but stare at you. you were his person, and although the dinner wasn’t exactly all it was cracked up to be, he knew that you dealt with so much more of him than anyone else was willing to. that meant more to him than words could even express.

that, and he immediately bought you apology mcnuggets after you two left. then you two really ate like kings.

eijirou kirishima

long captions to their s/o on instagram

this mfing SAP

he has everything planned, he made like 3 drafts beforehand and even had bakugou proofread it for him

he had all the different pictures he wanted to post too

this is a little unrelated but mans definitely showed up to your house with red roses and a suit

LIKE A GENTLEMAN

your phone buzzed, indicating that  you had received a new notification from instagram. after taking your phone off the table and entering in your passcode, you tapped into the instagram app and saw what had caused the tiny ping.

eijikirishima has tagged you in a post!

the first photo was an oldie, but a goodie. it was of you and eijirou at prom together back when you both graduated from ua. he looked absolutely stunning in the darkened suit he had bought, right beside you in a matching colour scheme. though the picture was in fact a meme in itself, as he posed like that one will smith picture gesturing to you with the goofiest smile. you remembered telling him that he was absolutely banned from wearing crocs that night to the dance. it was a good thing you had saved him from that utter atrocity.

the next picture was a photo of you with the puppy you had adopted together. you had named him bean, to which eijirou had expressed was the manliest name he had ever heard for a tiny pomeranian puppy. you were pressing a kiss to bean’s nose, the angle of the photo showing off your loving nature that he had fallen for.

the last was a picture of you sleeping against him during a long train ride for a mission. it wasn’t the most flattering picture eijirou had of you, but it was certainly one of his favourites. you looked so at peace, cuddling against his side with a tiny line of drool running down your chin. he was smiling in the picture, his eyes solely trained on you with the most wholesome look on his face. he was so utterly in love with you, and this picture couldn’t have showcased that look any more clearly.

the caption read as follows:

Hey bros! It’s Valentine’s Day, which means that it is my duty to post about the most amazing person I’ve ever had the pleasure of dating for about five years now! Y/N, we’ve been through so much together over the years, we’ve had ups and downs and everything else in between but I’ve been fortunate enough to remain standing here as the person you can confide in, much like you are that person to me. You’re my rock. I continue to find so much more to love about you every single day. I hope I get to spend the rest of my days with you, my best friend, my partner throughout everything. I love you so so much, pebble. I hope we get to stay just like this forever, and grow as we go along.

needless to say, many happy tears were shed that day.

tamaki amajiki

love letters in their shoe locker

for all the days leading up to valentine’s, tamaki put a different letter in your locker

mirio hyped him up asf to even get him to write what he was feeling towards you

and he was still nervous as hell and had mirio stand guard so that you didn’t accidentally walk in on him shoving weird notes in your locker

but unfortunately for tamaki, mirio isn’t a very good watchman

and so you caught him in the act, right on valentine’s day ironically

it was the end of a long, rather eventful day at school. you had gotten a few confessions from some other students, to which you turned down due to someone else being on your mind. for the past few days, you had begun collecting small letters in your shoe locker. the notes were short, handwritten with small doodles and even a recipe or two for you to try. it seemed like this person was reaching out to you to express their true feelings, their intimate and romantic feelings, towards you. and you couldn’t help but feel the same towards them, whoever they were. this admirer unveiled small details about themselves to you, yet hadn’t revealed enough for you to piece together a name. so here you were, sprinting down the hallway as soon as the bell went to try and catch a glimpse of this mystery individual who had been leaving you such sweet writings for you to cherish.

you rounded the final corner and there you saw him. before that happened however, you first you ran into your classmate and good friend mirio, who let out a tiny “oof” at the sudden contact. you apologized to him in a rush, explaining in a rushed tone that you needed to go meet someone. he nodded and waved to you before realizing that he had one job and tamaki was definitely going to kill him later.

only slightly out of breath, you saw a mess of indigo hair and shaky hands sliding your latest note into your shoe locker. as he turned to leave, his face drained of colour at the sight of you. he slouched further, retreating into himself. he looked around nervously for an excuse as to what the hell he was doing shoving letters into your locker. though, you beat him to speaking first.

“it’s you.”

tamaki’s throat felt scratchy and swollen, his entire form shaking as you slowly, calmly made your way towards him. “i- i can explain, y/n,” tamaki barely murmured, his nerves beginning to get the best of him yet again. “your words, they were so intimate. you were so well spoken on paper, i just had to meet you in person,” you confessed to him with a patient smile on your face. you stood a relatively safe distance away, not wanting to overwhelm him by your presence. you had just caught him in such a compromising act, after all.

“i read all your letters,” you went on, “every night before bed, i read them, tamaki. i even tried out the udon recipe you gave me and it was the best udon i had ever had. everything you said in your letters, the confessions and the other, more personal stuff… is that all true?”

tamaki, though he felt frozen beneath your warm gaze, had the courage to nod his head. “i didn’t know how else to tell you,” he admitted, hands now covering his face in shame. suddenly, gentle fingers grasped at his shaky ones as you uncovered his face to the light that was you. “i like you too,” you said finally. it felt like a chord had snapped inside of tamaki’s mind and all his feelings came crashing down in a deep crescendo of emotions all for you. it was all that he had ever wanted from you: a response.

all works © denkamis 2021.

tags:

@meilbox

want to be on the taglist? see this post!

[americachavez]

did cas really tell dean to kneel before their new god? did that actually happen? i thought him beating the shit out of dean in that alley was the most unrestrainedly horny thing this show had ever done ACTUALLY you know what scratch that new question: top horny moments from the cw's supernatural (2005 - 2020)

getting this ask feels like my sins of the last week have been weighed against the Trials I Have Gone Through since the premier of supernatural on the wb in september of 2005 and I’m not sure if it is a punishment or reward

some notes before we begin:

the ep with dean’s male siren was like, conceptually horny but not actually that horny because the dude was uglie. I’m sorry to this man

all you sam girls out there. I respect you but I do not respect jared padalecki who is JUST tall and has zero sex appeal. but those eps where he’s like, drinking ruby’s blood and then eating her pussy are. you know. I’ll give you that

I am ONLY UP TO SEASON 10 so fair warning this is not comprehensive but the horniness does seem to drop off sharply after the mark of cain is no longer in play lol gotta love a good demon murder tattoo plot

this is easily the most insane thing I’ve ever done, including the destiel manifesto

S1 EP12: the scene where dean gets healed by the faith healer, on his knees with a hand in his hair and looking somewhere between religious ecstasy, brain death and an orgasm. starting this list off great

S1 EP22: azazel possessing john winchester. no I will not explain further if u know u know <3

S3 EP10: dean being taunted by a dream version of himself, this is where we first got the daddy’s blunt little instrument line. still burned in my hippocampus a good 13 years later thank yew

S4 EP1: dean crawling out of his own grave covered in grave dirt. hot. the HANDPRINT. HOT. also tangent but this reveal after the s3 finale was WILD back in 2008 I hollered in my dorm room after canvassing for obama. simpler times man

S4 EP 1: cas’ intro scene. the barn. the shadow wings. the hair??? getting stabbed in the chest by the man you just pulled out of hell. getting aaaallll up in that personal space. his little eyebrow. “you don’t think you deserve to be saved.” OUTRAGEOUSLY FLAMING

S4 EP02: “I dragged you out of hell I can throw you back in.” <<< this angel tops. mark dean down as scared and horny etc

S4 EP16: this ENTIRE EPISODE but specifically the part where dean tortures alastair as some kind of foreplay and then alastair kicks his ass. carved you into a new animal. jesus.

S4 EP16: wait I forgot about the part where cas also gets his ass kicked and looks all....hm. dazed and covered in blood while he’s on his knees and about to die. yeah.

S5 EP4: I mean this entire ep is unfairly horny considering everyone is dying of a zombie plague and hasn’t showered in like, 4 years but if I had to pick one hmmm. the dean/dean interrogation scene with the panty kink yeah I know it’s not original but hm. it happened. also misha collins just being able to convey that CAS IS A FLEXIBLE SLUT with a single roll of his shoulders. who SAYS this man can’t act!!!!!

S5 EP18: the ALLEY SCENE. DEAN DOESN’T FIGHT BACK. CAS HOLDS HIM UP OFF THE GROUND AND THEN THROWS HIM ACROSS THE ALLEY. WHY DID EVERYONE THINK CAS COULDN’T TOP. you all had brainworms.

S5 EP18: when cas locks dean in the panic room to stop him from saying yes to michael and “well cas not for nothing but the last person who looked at me like that I got laid” I hate this show. wait I think the blow me cas line is in this episode too what the fuck were they on here

S6 EP5: the scene where dean gets turned into a vampire. between the old dude who I think calls dean a pretty boy (??) and soulless sam....watching??? no ******* but there were just some absolutely foul energies in that scene and I still do not understand WHAT they were thinking

S6 EP20: cas doing a double smite on two demons by slamming them to the ground and then shoving another demon back in its vessel and then smiting him in the same motion. TOP. ENERGY.

S6 EP22: season 6 is possibly cas’ horniest season because he’s like, going through angel puberty after getting his first boner for dean, but the final cas eps are. whoof. cas eats a bunch of souls and proclaims himself to be a new god in order to handle said boner, and then the season ends with cas telling them to bow down and profess their love to him, their new lord, or he will destroy them. note: the way this is framed makes it look like cas is only staring at dean while he says this, even though sam and bobby are also there. the season ends with dramatic zooms on both cas and dean’s faces respectively. this made me actively regret ditching this show after s5 lol

S8 EP??: literally EVERY SINGLE PURGATORY FLASHBACK. cas dean and benny are all purgatory hot in the “pop 10 cranberry pills and risk the UTI” kind of way but also. dean being the hot girl bottom between two tops who hate each other. I really. whew. I need to go take a shower.

S8 EP17: if I get canceled for including the crypt scene on this list I blame you bud. but dean on his knees begging a brainwashed cas to stop killing him WAS sexy. how many times has dean been on his knees in this list wait there’s another one coming up next jsldjfsldkjf

S9 EP2: abaddon getting dean on his knees (YEAH) and pulling his hair and praising him for always coming when called HELLO???? the only thing that ruins this is dean says “I can’t tell if we’re gonna fight or make out” because this is the CW and they won’t let him say fuck

S9 EP6: ah. this entire episode is Emotionally Horny but the horny horny part is when they’re in the car and dean is telling cas to unbutton his shirt and. watches. I know this was on my destiel manifesto but I need it here too

S9 EP9: cas, covered in blood, slitting another angel’s throat and eating his grace after getting tortured. that shot alone made me understand why this website was so goddamn horny for misha collins for nearly a damn decade

S9 EP11: MARK OF CAIN BABEY. cain watching dean beat up a bunch of demons as an audition for taking on the mark, while crowley also is a fucking voyeur to the whole thing. cain is also a hot silver fox with daddy energies. I said what I said

S9 EP 16: dean getting the first blade. he’s chained to a pillar and being menaced by a foppish dandy who wants to add him to his “collection” (WOW). dean then kills him with the blade and whew. murder is sexy sometimes

S9 EP21: dean being pinned against a wall by abaddon’s power, then using the mark of cain to break her hold, calling the first blade to him psychically and then killing her. god the mark of cain is hot

S9 EP23: dean waking up with the demon eyes NUT

S10 EP2: demon dean beating up that dude with the boring backstory and kicking his ass. really was a go on baby I got your flower moment because I hated that dude and I love demon dean

S10 EP3: demon dean being chained up and taunting sam about how his brother is gone, then hunting sam through the bunker. demon dean in general was VERY fun for me, someone who loves trash

S10 EP9: dean going berserk and killing a bunch of pedophile rapists/child abusers. I’m sorry I know this show is trying to preach morality at me about monsters and unnecessary murder and humanity or whatever but we blew past that like 8 SEASONS AGO. also the mark of cain is sexy

S10 EP14: the rest of this list is really gonna be mark of cain stuff isn’t it look I’m here to have fun. cain and dean’s fight. cain continuously tossing his mane of hair back and taunting dean with the picture of what he’s going to become, who he’s going to kill. dean begging cain to tell him that he can stop, and then ultimately killing him. rip daddy.

S11 EP4: again I have not watched this however. every shot of this episode is PRESTIGE TELEVISION because driving a muscle car is sexy. and especially the shot of dean all beat to hell and begging his car to start and giving her a little kiss from his fingers to her dash. ugh. masculinity.

S12 EP10: the bearded salt-and-pepper daddy look returns, only it’s an angel this time and he’s wearing a vest and shirtsleeves and he swordfights with a hot redheaded lady in a suit and an eyepatch. this show is good sometimes!!! and oh fuck lol I just realized this is the same guy who played krissy’s hot hunter dad in s7 probably the first guy who’s hotter as an angel than a hunter. huh.

S12 EP 11: dean riding larry the mechanical bull to “broomstick cowboy.” I have no idea where this factors into the ep but I have seen. the youtube clip

S13 EP23: from what I can tell s13 is way more emotionally horny than boner horny, although dean burning cas’ body was sexy. but the horniest part was dean saying yes to michael and then michael taking over and saying “thanks for the suit.” we are going to ignore the silliest fight scene in existence as well as the final shot ending on a FREEZE FRAME like a goddamn tiktok

S14: not gonna pick a specific moment because I have not watched yet!!! but michael dean is hot. idk why michael is weirdly hot and I cannot stand any iteration of lucifer on this television programme. it should be the reverse but I’m forever an older sibling stan apparently. someone who is catholic could probably explain this better.

S15 EP13: genevieve padalecki and danneel ackles fight flirting as ruby and anael I CANNOT BELIEVE THEY HELD OUT ON THIS TILL THE LAST SEASON

I know I am missing things but this is already an absolutely incomprehensible screed. I know I’m missing shit from the latter seasons but give me time I’m pacing myself

[feralnumberfive]

The Rewatch Academy: Episode 4 of Season 1

“Man on the Moon”

I am in no way a good analyst so my little analysis and speculations probably sound a bit goofy or pretty wild and probably mean nothing at all. Everything I put into this post about each episode is purely what I noticed or thought, whether it’s funny or serious. I will be making jokes, so please just leave it at that (in no way am I trying to make fun of an actor and or character!) I am also in no way saying I noticed this stuff first. This is just what I noticed while rewatching these episodes

☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂

1x01 | 1x02 | 1x03 |

☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂

☂ So at that point Luther had already been alone for about five years (due to his siblings leaving when they were 18 or even 17 according to Diego), and by alone I mean he did’t have his siblings with him. I’m not counting Reginald, Grace, or Pogo because I’d imagine they weren’t the best company. There was a two year gap between Luther getting the serum and then being sent to the moon. He had already been “alone” for five years before he was sent away to be completely alone for four years. He hasn’t had really any social/outside interaction besides going on missions for almost ten years, which means Luther is an awkward dude and he hasn’t been a true leader because he hasn’t had anyone to lead. I don’t think people really realize this and I think that’s where some of the hate towards him comes from 

☂ We see that Luther looks into Allison’s and Klaus’s bedrooms as he makes his way down the hall, and I’m willing to bet he did that for all of his siblings. Makes me wonder how many times the siblings went to Five’s room to visit it or to even check with hope that he had come back  

☂ I wish I could ride my bike around my house and chug a gallon of milk :[

☂ I can’t believe that Reginald still made him wear that leather battle suit 💀

☂ Why are there posters of animal anatomy in the infirmary?

☂ Apparently it takes between two to four months to grow a full beard, so that’s  about how long Luther had been lying there

☂ *suffers through the Allison and Luther scene*

☂ “HoPe I wAsN’t BeInG tOo LoUd”

☂ Vanya and Leonard were really sweet in the beginning. Screw you Leonard

☂ It’s really sad that not one his siblings notice that Klaus is gone. Not. One. 

☂ Are you telling me that Klaus and Five are certified freaks? At least I’m sure that’s who Cha Cha is referring to, or maybe it’s Luther

☂ I tried looking up tortures in Trinidad to see if Cha Cha was referring to any specific event, but I think it’s just a random thing in the show

☂ It’s only when Diego mutters “The boy” that it reminds him either of Five’s superhero name “The Boy” or his new appearance as a teen again so it finally clicks in his head that that’s who the mystery kid is

☂ Diego admitting that he doesn’t really know how to process his feelings!

☂ He’s very protective of his family and that’s something that I love about Diego. He doesn’t know who Hazel and Cha Cha are but all he knows is that they are searching for Five for some reason and that his siblings almost got killed last night

☂ Five doesn't realize the suffering that he’s putting his family through at this point since he’s only focused on finding who’s responsible for the end of the world. It’s ironic that he’s doing all of this to keep them alive and safe and yet him not being with them almost got them killed. Five buddy, you should have included all of your siblings from the start no matter how much they annoy you

☂ Also where has Five been this entire time? He left the van at night and now it’s the next morning. He’s been following the guy but why did it take him so long to corner him?

☂ Ope, and there’s a continuation error! When Luther takes his arm out of Five’s dresser, he takes part of the wood panel with him. When it cuts back to Diego talking there’s just a fist size hole

☂ “We barely got out with our lives.” Okay but where were you, Pogo?

☂ It’s funny how quickly they revert to child-like shame when Pogo scolds them. At least they still respect him I guess

☂ Is Hazel eating potato chips with ketchup? 

☂ I think one reason why nobody notices that Klaus is gone is because none of them saw him that night during the attack. They possibly assumed he already had left the Academy??

☂ Looooove the “Shingaling” scene. They are straight up vibing

☂ I don’t know why Luther was frustrated with the van door being locked. It’s not like he could rip the door off or anything.......

☂ I have a two questions here:

Why did Diego know where to find Five based off of the book? Sure he saw that it came from the library, but that doesn’t mean that he’ll be there

Wouldn’t Luther and Diego have seen the smoke coming from the Meritech building? Unless they left immediately and weren’t able to see the smoke even though they probably were still in the vicinity when it began to burn

☂ Five is holding the man’s arm to make sure that he doesn’t get away (hard to tell in the pic below though). He needs that sense of security that this lead isn’t going to escape his grasp, but I’m sure that if he were to run he wouldn’t get far when you can just teleport after him

☂ I got a nice pic of Five (also the dude on the bike that was riding behind Five as he runs up in this shot just does not care that this building is on fire) 

☂ When it shows Five on the ground, it at first starts off with light and slightly comedic music before it quickly switches over to something dramatic. I always thought it was funny that they play the light stuff as we see Five just laying there 💀

☂ You can see just how quickly Five’s face changes from shock to disbelief and disappointment as his only lead is literally blown away from him look, you can pinpoint the exact moment his heart breaks. Also Five definitely would have had hearing issues since we can see that the windows on the building behind him were shattered. He’s staring into your soul....

☂ There’s nothing really significant about this at all, but Whippets are racing dogs and in the comics Five goes to watch a dog race at one point

☂ “I hate sprinkles.” Hey, me too!

☂ I love that Griddy’s is still open despite the damage that was done to it

☂ Diego left home at 17 (which is illegal so I wonder if he was emancipated or maybe Diego ran away and Reginald didn’t care to look for him) so I wonder if the others left when they were 17 too or if they waited until they were 18 

☂ Luther I don’t really think you’re one to talk about being “grown up” my guy. In fairness none of the Umbrellas know how to be fully functioning adults, not even Five who’s about twice the age of his siblings and is almost a senior citizen

☂ “I stayed because the world needed me.” Hey that was basically Five’s reason too, but more so for getting to see his family again. Anyways, like brother, like, uh, brother! 

☂ "And things are never gonna go back to the way they used to be.” You sir just predicted the next week(s) (and technically years in the 60s) of your life and the lives of your siblings! This also applies for what happens after those weeks/years, but we haven’t gotten there yet but it’s certainly not the way things used to be!  

☂ How was Luther upset enough that he wanted Diego to stop talking after he said something genuine and a bit sad?

☂ This whole relationship talk isn’t exactly relatable......

☂ He’s just chillin’

☂ Reginald can ✨perish✨ Oh wait, he already did 

☂ Here I am taking any little scrap and running with it, but when Five says he’s going through puberty twice does that mean that he didn’t get his aging altered by The Commission? In the comics, Temps Aeternalis/Commission stopped Five’s aging but here it sounds like that didn’t happen. Since we haven’t heard anything about Five’s DNA in the tv show we don’t really know much about his aging alteration either. I think that they really do have to leave that part out due to Aidan himself, who is a growing teen, and for the fact that they would need to come up with an excuse for Five’s aging (Aidan already looks different in S2 and he’s taller too). I wish they would bring this stuff up in the show!

☂ Five deflects answering the question of what he’s the best at most likely just because he’s just distracted but also possibly because he doesn’t want his brothers to know at this point

☂ First the feral chimp smile and now this

☂ Five actually sounded serious when he was talking about how many people he has killed and how he’s the ”Four frickin’ Horsemen” which is more so an exaggeration but it still shows us that he views himself as dangerous and powerful. He revealed this to them while he was drunk, even though they don’t really understand, but I wonder if Five ever actually planned on telling his siblings what he did and how much blood he has on his hands. I feel like he would have told them after he had saved the world from the apocalypse, but yet again I could also see him brushing off questions in relation to what he just said to Luther and Diego to hide his past from his family

☂ ✨”Little Psycho”✨

☂ As eerie as all of those ghosts are, it’s a really neat scene

☂ It’s not really meant to be funny, but Klaus denying the duct tape just reminds me of a little kid refusing to go into timeout 

☂ I guess Cha Cha got out through the door next to the bathroom when Klaus was banging his head on the table?

☂ It’s a shame that Patch died right away, I really liked her

☂ Klaus, where you’re going really isn’t any better 

☂ It’s sweet that Diego puts Delores down gently and doesn’t just toss her somewhere. Even though she’s a mannequin, Diego knows that she means something to Five

☂ Well Luther I think it’s pretty self-explanatory what he meant. You just need more context 

☂ Diego: *signaling that someone, possibly a threat, is approaching and to be alert*

Luther: 🕴👁`👄’👁

☂ Even if they did think that Klaus had left the Academy before Hazel and Cha Cha attacked it, it’s sad that it took them this long to think about him

☂ Luther patting Delores is so cute

☂ Say it with me kids, “Patch deserved so much better!”

☂ My heart breaks to see Diego so heartbroken and upset, especially when he says “I gotta go, okay? I can’t be here when they come, okay?” Ugh, that gets me

☂☂☂☂☂☂☂

Feel free to comment or reblog with things you have noticed too!

[theglowyscorpio]

all set | eren x reader

a/n: this is a story in the making, currently available at AO3 and Wattpad. If you like it, please don't hesitate to give me some kudos, leave a comment or maybe follow me on my social media! <3 Any feedback is highly appreciated since I'm just getting started!

pairing: eren yeager x female reader

tags: mature content, alternate universe (modern setting), college/university, recreational drug use, implied sexual content, M/F, F/F, the author is not religious lmao

word count: 4.3k

current chapters: 2/?

playlist: this one was made with a particular playlist in mind. they are really great songs that help to convey this chapter, so I hope you have a time to check them out! :)

a. slomosa - kevin b. upsahl - drugs c. rosenfeld - like u d. kaiba - overdose e. lil kapow - tinman f. bodega - how did this happen!?

***

all set

I lost count of how many parties I went to this week. There was one at Shina, another at... Sasha's. Wait, was it? Or Ymir's? Honestly, both their houses look fairly similar and we always see the same faces over and over again, regardless of where we are getting wasted. Definitely two at my house. The timeline is blurry at this point. If my liver could talk, it would spit out "Screw you, Eren." and I wouldn't be able to disagree.

Classes will start next week so everyone is acting like we're going to stop doing all this for the rest of the semester. That never happens.

I barely enter Reiner's house and the music is already piercing my head. My ears will soon tell me to go screw myself too. The bass was loud. But it was good.

— Hey, finally — Reiner says, giving a hard slap in my back. I can't even get mad at him because he probably didn't mean for it to hurt. Fucking strong bastard.

— Sorry. Lost track of time.

— You know where the things are — he leaves me behind and disappears through the noisy music.

It's hot inside. August has been particularly cruel this year. I'm using a black t-shirt, which is luckily pretty thin, and my black Adidas pants that are somewhat breathable. My hair is in a bun. I will probably be sweating soon, though. Reiner's AC won't do miracles with this amount of people since it is specially packed today. I guess I might see some new faces tonight, huh.

This fact already makes things more interesting.

I walk through the room and then arrive in the kitchen. Connie and Sasha are there.

— Eren!! — I barely open my mouth to talk and Sasha is already giving me whatever weird drink they made. Their drinks sometimes are... unusual, for the lack of a better word. Most of the time they are simply pure shit. They call it scout's fuel, always the same name regardless of what's inside. Maybe that's why my liver hates me so much.

— Thanks — I'm already used to the goddamn gasoline taste — I guess you both want to get us wasted tonight.

— It's our personal mission, so enjoy the fuel — Connie says laughing, raising his plastic cup. I love this duo – who doesn't? – and I can't help but laugh with them, even though it tastes so bad — Everyone is already here, come on — I follow them and find all the familiar faces I've seen all week: Bertholdt, Historia, Ymir, Mikasa, Annie, Armin, Jean, everyone.

The girls look hot, even though I'm used to them. Either way, I avoid hooking up with my friends since the last time didn't work so well. It's better to avoid Mikasa today.

We all sit together while drinking. I light a joint I had already prepared at home and say — Am I crazy or is Reiner's party bigger than usual? —, releasing the smoke a few seconds after. This one is the best grass we could get around our area, I've saved it primarily for today and now I see that might have been a great decision on my part. I'm glancing through the room and looking for some girls, might share this shit with one - or a few - of them later.

— Thank god, I was tired of seeing your ugly faces every fucking time — Jean says. The girls look at him and he rushes to add — I mean, the boys, of course. It's always nice looking at all of you, ladies.

It's not enough to avoid Annie's kick anyway — We can say the same of you, horse face.

Reiner arrives at the perfect time and explains — Since the new semester starts Monday, news about today traveled fast and we got a lot more company than usual.

— Do you know all of them, Reiner? — Historia asks — I've talked to a bunch of them tonight and there are people from all over the campus and from all years as well — Historia always looks pretty, her blonde hair shining even in the low light of the party. Guys make a line to talk to her at all parties so there's no surprise that she's already familiarized with the whole scenario. I wonder what Ymir thinks of it. Probably followed her during this little field trip.

— Hell, no — he grabs the joint of my hand and sucks deeply — I know some of them and some are Bertholdt's friends but there are some random people.

— I bet Reiner knows a lot of the girls — I take my joint back from his fingers — I assume they aren't Bertholdt's friends, though — and grin.

— Hey, I don't see you with any new company either, dude — Bertholdt tries to grab my weed as well, but I avoid his advances. He instead grabs my cup and drinks all of it, leaving me empty. He makes a funny face at the taste. Suit yourself, man, I think to myself, laughing on the inside.

— Yeah, but I'll work on it in a sec — I tease him knowing that he can't handle much of Sasha and Connie's fuel. He always knocks out before everyone. I hope he realizes he needs to stay awake to try anything with Annie. Someday. He simply never gets there.

Hange arrives almost falling over Ymir and spilling her drink on the floor in the process — I think we should all make a toast and make this last party a wild ride!!! — her yelling stabbing us louder than the music.

— Bitch, you are this fucking drunk already? — Ymir says to her, holding Hange's weight on her back — What the hell did the gasoline duo do to you?

— Okay okay, enough with the questions, let me fill your cups because this is the night! — Sasha says, just pouring all that mystery liquid that soon will go straight to our heads — Also, Reiner, where's the food?

We raise our plastic cups and Connie yells — To the new semester! — and we drink, feeling the immediate burn on our throats. It's hard being a scout.

— I need to get laid today — Jean says as he lays his back on the couch — Gonna arrive for the classes pretty motivated next week — he then rests his left arm at the back pillow, behind Mikasa's head.

— You should start roaming, then — her cold delivery puts Jean's subtle attempt at flirting six feet under the ground, as usual. It was pretty damn quick, but I could notice Mikasa glancing at me and then looking the other way. Yeah, I think I need to start roaming soon, too.

— That sounds great, then let's do that!!! — Hange grabs Jean by the arm and they disappear amongst the crowd.

— When all this fun ends, I'll be the one who will probably have to take him home after he gets slapped by some girls — Armin and Jean live with me so we normally go back together. Armin is the responsible one between us, which is not exactly hard considering how Jean and I are — Gonna at least drink some beer before that happens.

— I'll go with you, this drink sucks — Annie says, finishing the drink anyway and following him. We always drink the last drop of it, we never learn.

The girls went dancing, the music was exceptionally good today. A lot of bands I already liked plus some I have never heard before. I need to remember to ask Reiner for this playlist later. Connie was already surrounded by a different group, everyone likes to talk to him. He is popular. The rest dispersed as well and I could hear Hange's screams far away. This is going to be a night for her, indeed.

I start walking around, meeting a lot of people from my classes and others from the campus in general. I talk to all of them and drink a lot in the process, which feeds my need for nicotine every time. I grab my pack of cigarettes and while smoking, I see Levi.

— I must be dreaming — I say, letting the smoke leave my lips with a smile. It reaches him and looks at me with a deadly expression. He is smoking as well, but he only admits one specific brand of cigarettes and hates all the others. Levi usually doesn't show up at these "brat" parties, as he likes to say, since he's a few years older than us. I normally see him at Shina's, which is a popular club slash bar near our university. He's the owner so we all met him there, after going so many times. Shina has the best parties and the best drinks of all the clubs near us. And it couldn't be any other way, since Levi is a perfectionist. There's also a small stage there, where indie bands perform from time to time. My band does some gigs there sometimes.

— Hey — he replies, as cold as ever. He's Mikasa's cousin, so they have the same expressions and hard-to-approach vibe — Already high, I see.

— Always. In fact, today I hope to be higher than usual. What miracle brings you here?

— Some people from the staff decided to come here today so there are fewer brats to piss me off — he drinks what's probably a high priced whiskey and continues — and there's a new girl at the club so we have been showing her the area for a few weeks now.

— There's a lot of new girls here today — although I know Levi doesn't give a crap.

— So? — yeah, he doesn't.

Levi is a pretty successful business owner and even I have to admit that he's hot – is not only common knowledge but a mutual agreement between everyone –, so girls are always trying to get him, but he doesn't screw most of them. He doesn't fuck brats, period. He says he doesn't have the patience. That makes the girls even more desperate. He has the highest standards of every guy I know. When he was still in university – the same we all go –, he screwed not only the hottest girls but also the professors - which went after him and not the other way around. At least that's what I've heard. I think Levi never had to actively look for any girl, to be honest.

I can only laugh at his reply. That's just so him.

— If you want more stuff than what's already in your system, Floch is over there.

— I want, actually. I was going to look for him — I see Floch's red hair among some folks. Floch is usually as busy as Connie but with less than half of the charisma.

He finishes his cigarette, blowing its last white smoke into the air, and we both hear a loud HELL YEAH!! coming from all the other way across the room — Tsk, is that Hange?

— Pfft, it was before, I think it's Sasha now — he doesn't laugh at my reply. He never does. I think hell would freeze while heaven catches on fire.

I think about the music again. It's so good today, what the hell — Hey Levi, don't you think this playlist is too high quality for a Reiner party? I don't get it, his music taste is always pure trash.

— That's from our new girl — he drinks the last drops of his whiskey and starts to leave — You might find her around here — he then suddenly stops and looks at me — Don't get your hopes up, though.

I am not able to ask what he meant by that because he leaves too quickly. Time to look for Floch.

— Hey, Flo-

— Here.

— You didn't even let me finish.

— I know what you want. You are not in the mood for cocaine so you want MD instead, blah-blah-blah-blah. Is that kind of night — he pauses for mere seconds — Am I wrong, Eren?

— Nope, right as usual — Floch is the main person you go to when you need drugs. I mean, good drugs. He looks like your standard rich boy – which he is, by the way – that can do no wrong, but you can get the best stuff from him. I've always found this funny. The weed I have today was his work. He knows my taste well.

Reiner's frat house is huge, so there's plenty of room to walk. I'm approached by a bunch of girls on the way but for some reason, none of them piques my interest. I am pretty set on going after something new today and I have no problem getting laid. It happened every single day this week and it truly happens anytime I want. Which, okay, boosts my ego a little bit. Maybe a lot. I might even have hurt some girls in the process. I was never slapped though, unlike Jean. So that's a win in my book.

I see a few of my friends again, mainly Historia and Reiner, and they are talking to a girl I've never seen before.

She has long black hair and short messy bangs, the kind that goes a little above the eyebrows. I didn't know black hair was my thing until now. Her face has the perfect features, at least for me. She's wearing a sleeveless white top that is so tight that hugs her figure perfectly and makes her breasts look amazing. That type of top that shows the girl's side boob, and I'm a total sucker for those. It is also short so you can see a bit of her waist. And I don't even have to see her ass because I already know it is probably too damn good. Her light blue ripped jeans are cool as well and she has black sneakers. I like her style. She has a bunch of tattoos - a lot on her right arm, one on her left hand, and probably some that I couldn't see because they were behind her clothes. I intended to, though.

Fuck, she's hot.

Historia looks mesmerized talking to her, which is a very privileged view from where I stand because, as I've already said before, she is also beautiful. But she isn't exactly hot. This girl is. Way too much. Oh, and Reiner is there too. Whatever.

I can see a lot of guys want to approach her but none of them do. I went for it. Wasn't this night supposed to be wild?

— Hey, Eren! Guess what, Y/N is the new DJ at Shina! I was telling her how we go there all the time.

— Hi, Eren, nice to meet you — she says, with that kind of smile that people who know they are hot make. I do that too.

— Hey, Y/N — I say. And as I told you seconds before, I'm good with that type of smile as well so that's what she gets — Levi told me he came with the staff and a new girl, so I suppose that's you.

— Yeah, I'll start there next week.

— I talked to him about the party's playlist because I knew it couldn't be Reiner's.

— Yeah, it's Y/N's. She prepared it for the party when I invited the guys from Shina yesterday. We were in the same high school. — Reiner says that looking at me with a face that shows "See that, dickhead? I've known her for some years now".

— It's pretty good! I can't wait for the next party at Shina's to see your set! — Historia was always an angel.

REINER, WHERE'S THE REST OF THE ICE, MAN??, someone screamed far away.

— Shit. Catch up with you later, Y/N.

Too bad, huh, Reiner? He gives me a look that I can't quite figure out what it is, but I know for sure it wasn't a look of support. In the fucking slightest.

— I think Ymir is calling me as well, sorry!! — It was painfully obvious that Ymir wanted to make out with Historia for some time now. They never did. I think only Historia hasn't realized yet that Ymir is thirsty for her for god knows how long.

After Historia left, there was only me and her — So, by any chance, do you go to the same university as us? You look our age but Levi said you are new here — I tried asking this without looking at her body, but looking at her face was even worse. Her eyes were piercing me in the best way possible.

— I'm not exactly new, I'm from the same uni as you guys, but I took a gap year — she takes a sip of her drink — You probably never met me but I'm in the same year as you all are now.

Since Reiner knew her from high school, he also knew she was at the same university all along and never told any of the guys. Smart fucker.

— So that makes you a year older than me — I smirk at her.

— I guess it does — she smirks back as she lights up a cigarette and blows the smoke at me.

Ok, looking good so far.

I'm pretty high at this point, the MD and the music are making me horny, so I don't even bother to pretend that I'm not looking at her body. I'm looking at everything.

— You took something, didn't you?

— Do you want some? I can show you later where to get the best stuff. Anything you are in the mood for.

— I'm all set — she shows me her tongue and I see the acid. The view makes my own tongue feel lonely, maybe I should use it to steal that from her mouth. I hope she's horny as well.

We talk a lot about music since it's something that we both enjoy. She's passionate about it, I can tell. She asks about my band with true interest. Doesn't sound like small talk. She touches her hair and it makes me want to stuff my face in it. She has the smile that makes you want more. Her voice has the same effect.

The loud music allows us to talk near each other's ears. I hope she moans as loud as her playlist. The girls usually love my hair for some reason, either if it's in a messy bun as it is right now or if it's loose. They all love my green eyes too. She can see all that with somewhat detail since we are so close, even though it is a little dark here. If I take you to a room you can see me better, I almost blurb it out. I can see her too and that kills me.

She looks receptive to me but normally at this point I would be already hooking up with the girl. This time it isn't happening. I never have to work so much. I think I understand why the other guys didn't approach her before. She's a little intimidating to talk to, and that comes naturally to her – it doesn't seem to be on purpose. I flirt with her the way I normally do but she is hard to get, she hits every ball I throw. I remember what Levi said before. Oh, right.

But I'm vibing way too much at this point, I think if I touch any part of her I'll get hard immediately.

— This gap year you've mentioned... Did you go anywhere specific?

— I know it will sound cliché, but I went to Europe.

— Where in Europe?

— Everywhere — she says — I went down — the corner of her lips forming a smile  — And up. Everywhere. — and I can swear she sounds flirtatious as hell. I want to bite her lip.

— That sounds... Awesome. — I think she wants to bite me too, or at least I hope she does — Was there any particular reason to leave? If that's not too much to ask.

— Hm, I was kinda... — she stops to think for a few seconds as she holds her hair up and makes a ponytail, looking at the ground, the cigarette glued to her now closed lips. Her neck became exposed, it looks soft as hell and I can't wait to bruise it. She releases the smoke, that flows into the room, and looks deep into my eyes, as deep as I want to be inside her right now — ...stressed.

I reach my limit at this point.

— I can help you with the stress if you want.

— Really? — she's looking at me with the same teasing look and I'm doing the same, so we both know that's not a question I have to answer. Her tongue quickly passes through her top lip, her mouth forming a little wet smile — I don't think I need any help though.

I threw the ball and she hit a home run. My team was out.

I was not expecting that.

We hear some of the guys from Shina calling for her — Oh, they are calling me — Y/N looks at me again and says — See you around, Eren — giving me the same fucking grin I wanted to bite before.

She walks away and I see that her ass is, as I suspected from the very beginning, too damn good.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

After this, some time has passed. I look at the clock. Yeah, maybe a lot. I couldn't tell before because I'm drunk and drugged. I see most of my friends, all fucking wasted. Armin is holding up pretty well, Bertholdt's is knocked down for God knows how long, Mikasa probably smoked way too much weed (who am I to judge?) and looks dead on the couch. I don't see Ymir, Historia nor Reiner - there are too many people in this house to keep count. Sasha's eating something in the kitchen, I can't see what it is, but certainly, she got hungrier than normal after smoking some pot Connie gave her. Connie always holds his drinks well, he's still talking to a lot of people. I pass in front of one of the bathrooms and Hange is there, getting everything out of her system. Oh, and Ymir. There she is, holding Hange's hair, looking as pissed as ever. Levi probably went home hours ago. Jean is making out with some chick, he's going to score tonight. To be fair, he always does, but never with Mikasa.

I saw a lot of pretty girls today and I went for none of them. They tried and I shut them down, even the ones I normally fuck. There's someone I want to taste tonight and she's nowhere to be found. The guys from Shina are missing too, so I know I won't see her today anymore. Damn.

I'm not pissed at her but I'm pissed at the situation.

— Armin, I think I'm going to take off, are you coming?

— Yeah, I'm already pretty tired — he gets up — Jean's probably going to stay here.

— Yep. Probably. — Am I pissed that Jean's getting laid? Even though I could have as well? With someone else, at least? My mood feels off.

— I'm going with you too, I've lost count of how many assholes I had to shut down today. I think I even punched a few — I don't have to look to know that's Annie speaking — You were right, Eren, is it especially crowded today. In the shittiest way possible.

— Then let's go.

— Wait, I need to get my bag first, I left it in Reiner's room.

— I can get that for you, wait up.

— It's a black one. Small.

I sign a thumbs up for her and climb the stairs. I am hundred percent sure I'm going to see someone fucking there but that's the usual. I'm pretty sure I've already seen some people screwing in the corner of the living room minutes before. No one cares.

I open the door and see Y/N in her underwear, putting her white top back on. She does indeed have other tattoos.

— Hey there! — she says smiling, as she also puts her jeans back up, making little jumps so they pass through her ass. Her hair is not in a ponytail anymore.

I say hi in a confusing way.

— I came here to get my friend's bag — I look around for milliseconds like I don't know where the hell I am until I see Reiner lying - clearly naked - under his sheets. Can't be anyone else, with that bleached hair and huge biceps.

What? Ahn?

Hey... Wait a second.

Historia? Clearly naked as well? What. The. Hell. I guess she's not exactly the angel I thought she was?

They are sort of awake, sort of sleeping, kinda like on a different planet. You know, the type of thing that happens after a really strong fuck? That sort. They look exhausted. They look destroyed. And not in a bad way. AT ALL.

— Oh, I saw a bag before. Here you go — she gives me Annie's bag. She's all dressed now. She notices my confusion, I'm too high to act any other way — I've told you I don't need any help — her eyes piercing mine for the hundredth time tonight. Her smile hurts now. Ouch.

She grabs her sneakers and walks towards me and the door:

— I'm all set.

She leaves the room as I hold Annie's bag.

Yeah. I was not expecting that.

***

Thanks for reading (if there's even anyone here lmao). Chapter 2 will be uploaded later but it can be read now at AO3 or Wattpad.

[maribatshipper]

Miraculous Damienette Reader Insert

A girl with H/C, H/L, H/S hair walks into College Françoise Dupont, looking for a certain bluenette, her E/C eyes glimmering as she sees the bluebell-eyed teen in one of the classes. The bell rings & she walks into the classroom & runs straight for the other girl.

"NETTIEEEEE!" She exclaims, surprising the bluenette.

The redheaded teacher asks, "Who are you? This-"

The girl laughs, "Oh, I am Marinette's cousin Y/N who just came back from Australia!"

Suddenly, a girl who's hair reminds Y/N of a horse's butt smiles, "Oh, I remember Australia. I went there last year & had some of that deliciously sweet stuff they called Vigimite."

Y/N laughs her butt off. The girl looks offended.

"That is the funniest thing I've heard in weeks! You can't even pronounce it!" Y/N laughs.

"Hey, Why are you laughing at Lila? She was just trying to connect with you!" A brunette with glasses frowns at Y/N.

"Because, this Lila girl obviously has never been to Australia. Vegemite is certainly not sweet. It is a savoury spread the locals put on bread. Next thing she's gonna be telling me is that they ride Kangaroos to school & the Koala Bear is actually a bear & they throw a shrimp on the Barbie! It's not a shrimp, it's a prawn! Kangaroos are wild animals & it's only called a Koala BEAR because it looks like a living Teddy Bear!" Y/N exclaims.

"N/N, calm down." Marinette sighs.

Y/N nods, "Sorry. Oh, you said something really important on the phone, Nettie!"

Marinette blushes, "It's nothing, really."

"We'll talk about it on the way to my apartment!" Y/N smiles.

Lila starts crying, catching Y/N's attention.

"Why are you so mean?" Lila cries.

Y/N goes full savage mode.

"Oh, forgive me. I didn't realise saying hello to my Cousin makes you blush!" She sasses.

The brunette girl glares at Y/N, "How dare you hurt Lila's feelings!"

Marinette sighs, "Alya..."

Y/N cuts her cousin off & laughs, "Seriously? If she's all upset because I love my cousin, then her family hates her, which I'm not surprised with the outfit she's wearing, & don't get me started on her hair! Are you trying to look like a dog's hind leg? You'd think that a girl who's on the magazines would at least model good clothes, & know how to MODEL! Honestly, you'd think Agreste would pick a good muse. I've seen 27 different kids here with much better fashion sense than you!"

Everyone gasps at Y/N's statements about Lila. Lila ends up crying her eyes out, but Y/N keeps smirking.

"I think you've caused enough trouble, Y/N." Alya sneers.

Y/N glares, "Like all of you have caused trouble for Marinette?" in a deathly serious voice.

Marinette hides under the table. If there is anything she has learned from the family reunions, it's that you do NOT get Y/N mad.

"You know, Marinette can sue the lot of you with what you've done. I've done my research on the lot of you. You, Alya! Your blog is crap! All it's used for is spreading Miss Rossi's lies. You call yourself a truth-seeker but you only see what you want to see." Y/N hisses.

Alya goes to object when Y/n gives her a look that can shut up politicians.

"You, Max! You believed a serviette-"

Marinette interrupts, "We call them napkins here."

Y/N continues, "A napkin could gouge out your eye! Dude, you're wearing glasses! Unless the paper had acid on it, the only thing it could've hurt is your cheek, glasses, or forehead! Use that brain you were given!" She turns to the Teacher, "Bustier, you make Marinette do all the work keeping your pupils in place, when that is your job! She's been doing everything except teaching the class. My cousin is spread as thin as Vegemite should be, & you all expect her to do more than her fair share! & don't even get me started on the texts I've seen!"

Marinette's eyes widen in shock.

"Did you say texts?" Marinette whispers.

Suddenly, a purple butterfly flies into the room & lands on Y/N's belt, absorbing it as a neon butterfly symbol appearing over her face.

"Des-"

"I'mma stop you right there, Moth-butt. YOU are one of the reasons I'm mad, so I suggest you remove this little insect before I crush YOU like one. NOW!"

The class stares in shock for a while before Y/N falls against one of the desks, the butterfly symbol disappearing & the butterfly forms again to fly away when Y/N grabs it, holds it by both wings with both hands & rips it apart, killing it.

"May that be a lesson to that man." Y/N smirks, "Now, I'm taking Marinette to my place & you can bet that your life is about to become so much harder! Somewhere out there is a tree that's working tirelessly to supply you all with oxygen. Go find it & apologise! Let's go Nettie."

Y/N grabs Marinette's hand & walks away.

***

"Now that that's out of the way, What's this about a boyfriend, Nettie?"

Marinette's a blushing mess.

"You don't have to answer my questions right now, but be careful in Paris, Ladybug." Y/N smirks.

Marinette exclaims, "What!? No! I'm- I'm not-"

Y/N laughs, "Whatever you have that fools all of Paris, even the world, doesn't work on your cousin who designed supersuits. There is also E's influence."

Marinette sighs, "How?"

Y/N ignores her question.

"Speaking of which, What Do You Think You're Doing?!"

The slightly older teenager instantly switches to lecture mode, whacking Marinette with newspaper.

"You taught me everything you know, which helped me with E, & I watched you with pride as you impress Agreste with your hat & created the album cover of Jagged Stone that hits the top of the charts like a high note, & you go running around Paris rooftops in a Polk-a-dot spandex ONESIE?! I'd think you'd at least get a decent supersuit! No more! We're going to design you a REAL suit in my office! No cousin of mine is going to be running around Paris in PJS!"

Thoroughly intimidated, Marinette stares at Y/N in shock. She barely sees this woman, & out of everyone in Paris, the family that she rarely sees figures out her identity! She just keeps staring shocked while Y/N drags her to a tall office with many supersuits lined on the walls, then takes her measurements.

"I... I don't know how you found out-" Marinette starts.

Y/N cuts her off, "I'm not going to tell anyone, Nettie. I've seen your fights against the Akumas. You're in a defensive battle, & need to keep your identity secret, even from your parents. Believe me, I can keep secrets, & I can't even tell you why."

That would be telling. Marinette knows Y/N used to be a superhero fan when she was younger, & it seems to have carried into her adolescence.

"That's not it N/N, I don't think my suit can change. I didn't design it, it's magic." Marinette frowns.

Y/N pulls out pieces of paper, "That would explain your powers, including why it took my 10 tries to recognise you. You & your partners must have Perception filters. You & Cat Noir's powers do seem to be in line with luck. Clearly you have some influence over your powers, so maybe that could extend to your suit? I mean, I did see that Pharaoh report. It's obvious your powers are older than you. Maybe even inheritable, & I doubt your predecessors wore spandex PJs."

Suddenly, there's a doorbell ring.

"Who's visiting?" Y/N asks.

She walks towards the door to see a young man with green eyes and dark hair.

"Damian Wayne? What do you want this time, Demon?" Y/N scoffs.

Marinette gapes. Her cousin knew him?

"Wondering why my girlfriend wasn't at home but was here." Damian scoffs.

Y/N turns to Marinette, who's smiling sheepishly.

"He's your boyfriend?! Now I feel kinda feel bad for putting a prank in his room. Oh, uh... Don't go in your room for the next 2 weeks, Demon. Does he know?"

Damian glares at Y/N while Marinette nods.

"Good, I can talk about it with him in the room. We'll design anyway, & you start practicing manipulating the suit’s design in private. In 2 months from now, I want to invite Ladybug to E's latest collection first hand, as some of the pieces have been inspired by her & her partners, & I do not want my cousin showing up looking like she put on an oversized toddler onesie, embarrassing herself, E, & I. If you can't change it, we'll make an oversuit with some of your boyfriend's tech. Maybe a jacket or armour. You'll look amazing!" Y/N natters.

Damian gives Marinette a deadpan look.

"What is she talking about?"

Marinette sighs, "She knows I'm Ladybug."

Damian sighs in annoyance.

"Oh please! Like it was that difficult to find out who the Batfamily was, Robin. The entire world is full of idiots. The only ones that figure it out & go public about the info end up dead. Also, I'm your family, Nettie. I'm supposed to protect you. But if your out there saving Paris, I can't do that. Just be careful, Nettie."

Marinette's eyes widen with an idea. Damian notices.

"No, Angel."

Y/N giggles at the nickname given to Marinette, remembering Damian's nickname.

"Opposites really do attract."

***

Ladybug is now seen swinging from rooftop to rooftop with a jacket with a hood that goes over her ears, with the design "La Mode" printed on the back, a new Fox hero, Kitsune, beside her, E/C eyes shining.

(Not my picture, I just googled it. Add a bit more armour on it.)

"You ready, Kitsune?" Ladybug asks.

Kitsune nods, "Ready as I'll ever be, Buginette!"

[fangirlovestuff]

Worth It - Andy Barber x reader

a/n- Hey lovely people! this was written for @stargazingfangirl18​​ & @navybrat817​​ ‘s shameless hoes for chris challenge, and I can’t be happier that our baby Andy’s first appearance on this blog is for their challenge! thoughts are in italics and the prompt is in bold. also a disclaimer - i’ve never been to a singles mixer lol. Enjoy!<3

Prompts: We are the only two people at this god awful event who seemed to be utterly miserable, so let’s be miserable together & “Can you just not right now?”

Summary: you never believed in singles mixers, but something about this stranger might just change that...

Word count: ~2,570

Warnings: smut!!, explicit language. please don’t read if you are uncomfortable with those things!

Your eyes wandered around the room for the umpteenth time that night. It was packed full of people who were talking to one another, mostly paired up, usually leaning towards each other. Lashes were flattered, muscles were subtly flexed, arms brushed "accidentally". The usual joys of a singles mixer.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Why the fuck did you let your friend convince you to come with her? She was currently talking to some douchebag in a suit that was clearly rented to make him look fancier but didn't even fit him that well. You had a sense of admiration for her for being optimistic enough to believe she'll find a guy in these things.

You, however, didn't share that sentiment. You hung out close to the bar, downing a couple of drinks and quickly shutting down any attempt any male has made to talk to you. About five minutes after you got here you realized there wasn't anyone there who looked like they could fit you. Who knows, maybe your taste in men was a bit much, but you certainly wouldn't lower your standards for the men in that room.

Now, forty minutes later, you were just about ready to bail, but you didn't want to leave your friend alone. So, you just sat there, fumbling with your phone, hoping your friend would soon realize how pointless this was.

As you were ordering another drink, you caught the door opening slightly from the corner of your eye. Probably someone who's late. Although you couldn't fathom what was the point of arriving to these things late. To be fair, you couldn't fathom the reason to be at these things at all. 

Sure, you wanted to find love. But you had pretty much given up on the idea that there was someone out there for you. That was a bit of a naïve notion in your opinion, the search for true love. Anyway, you did fine on your own, it's not like you needed a man in your life.

Doesn't mean you didn't want one though.

You drowned that thought and the extra drink you had just gotten. You should probably cut back on the drinks; you don't want to be hungover the next day.

You suddenly realized someone was coming to lean on the bar beside you. He ordered a drink, deep voice reaching your ears despite the chatter in the room. You lifted your head from your phone to look at the stranger from the corner of your eye. He shrugged the suit jacket off his shoulders and sat down. 

Damn, he definitely wasn't here before. Probably the one who just got in, you realized. You looked at his handsome profile, brown hair that seemed soft to touch, and a suit that actually fit his quite broad frame. 

Maybe this night isn't gonna be such a waste after all. Sure, you didn't expect to fall in love, but it's been a while since you got laid. The stranger caused a tingly sensation inside you that made want to change that.

He looked over at you, blue eyes piercing into yours. You noticed the way his lashes cast a slight shadow on his cheekbones, and that beard was framing his face very nicely. There was really no other way to say it, he was hella hot.

"Can you just not right now?" he said suddenly and sighed. You raised your eyebrows and scoffed, diverting your gaze into your nearly empty glass and pursing your lips. Okay, never mind, asshole alert.

"I'm sorry," he said after a moment passed. "I'm just not really interested in meeting anyone right now. I saw you looking at me so—"

"Whatever," you cut him off, a little embarrassed he caught you ogling him. "If you aren't interested in anything, why are you even here?"

"A friend forced me into it. She basically pushed me through the door," he chuckled, sipping his drink. 

A she friend. Maybe that's the reason he wasn't interested. "Well, I can't say I don't understand that," you sympathized, scouring the room in search of your friend again. You were just in time to catch her going out the door with that douche. "Shit," you muttered under your breath.

"Excuse me?" he asked, equal parts amused and puzzled. 

"My friend just left with some jerk," you downed the rest of your drink, "and as the person who talked me into this shithole, that's rude of her," you sent a tight-lipped smile to the stranger. "So now I'm pretty much stranded here because she was my ride home." You opened your phone to order an Uber. You blamed the alcohol for making you overshare like this.

"Hey," the stranger said, "How about we have a drink and I could give you a ride home? Duffy threatened to wait outside for a half-hour to make sure I stay, and I have no doubt she's gonna make good on that," he smiled.

"Hmmm, excuse me if I'm not gonna jump on that offer, complete stranger I just met," you smirked.

"Oh, right, sorry. Where I come from everyone knows me," he said, surprisingly bitter. "I'm Andy," he smiled.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Andy," you said and introduced yourself. "So, you're a celeb where you come from, huh? What do you do?" 

"I'm- I was a lawyer. Right now, I'm looking for a job. And celeb isn't really the word I would use," he said in that bitter tone once more. You got the message – he really didn't want to talk about it.

"So is Duffy a lawyer too?" you changed the subject quickly.

"No, she's a cop, but we worked together sometimes," he said. "What about you, what do you do?"

You spent the next few minutes getting to know each other, the conversation flowing easily. He had more wit in his little finger than most people you met at these things had in their whole body. Smart's the new sexy, but it's not like he wasn't sexy enough as it is.

"So, how come your friend talked you into coming here and then left you?" he asked.

"Well, we're the only two of our friends who aren't married, or engaged or whatever, so everyone's nagging us to 'find someone'. She really thinks these things are the place where she could find her person. I, personally, think it's bullshit," you said and he chuckled. "But hey, the things you do for your friends," you shrugged. 

"Yeah," he looked at you and smiled. He thought he was being subtle, but you noticed the way his eyes quickly moved to your cleavage, which was looking quite nice in this dress if you could say so yourself, and back to your face. Maybe not all hope for tonight was lost, you thought, and leaned forward a little. 

"See that dude over there? What do you think he's saying to that poor girl?" you asked.

"He's probably telling her how romantic and chivalrous he is just to get into her pants," he shrugged and you chuckled. "What about that couple? What do you think they're talking about?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm so in love with you!" you said in a slightly high-pitched voice, imitating the girl, "Yeah, baby, me too," you said in a lower voice. "And then they'll move in together, break up and get into an ugly fight over who gets to keep the house," you finished your story and Andy laughed.

The conversation continued to flow, both of you making fun of some other people, but now it seemed you were both in a competition. It started with you leaning forward to bring your cleavage into view, but he caught on quickly, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top button, his Adam's apple bobbing and god did that make you wanna suck on his neck.

You made the next move, crossing your legs in a way that you knew would make your dress ride up a little, exposing more skin. Andy visibly swallowed but you continued talking like you didn't notice. He rolled up his sleeves, and at this point, it was clear you both knew what you were doing. You were already hot and bothered, and he didn't even touch you yet, not even in the most innocent way. 

"Well," Andy looked at his phone, "I think we're clear, Duffy must've gone home by now. Come on, let's go."

You got up and so did Andy, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair.

When you went outside it was surprisingly cold. You shivered a bit and Andy noticed it from the corner of his eye, dropping his jacket over your shoulder. You smiled at him in thanks. 

The drive was mostly filled with silence, besides you giving him directions to your house. It seemed you were both immersed in your own thoughts, but it was a comfortable silence. Your gaze fluttered on him once more. You noticed his hands on the steering wheel, more specifically the ring-shaped tan. Well, if he didn't wanna talk about it that's his prerogative.

"Here, you can pull over right there," you pointed to an empty parking spot across from your building. 

"Do you want to come up and have a coffee? I gotta thank you for the ride home somehow," you smiled. 

"Sure," he said and turned off the car, going out. You gave him his jacket back as you both entered the building.

The tension in the elevator could be cut with a knife. It seemed that once you were finally alone, your thoughts were running wild.

You finally reached your apartment, opening the door and showing Andy in. You turned to lock the apartment door behind you. "If you want you can leave your jacket—"

You turned back around and suddenly his lips were on yours, pushing hungrily. You felt his tongue licking slightly against your lips, seeking entrance you granted gladly, your tongue battling with his as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands wandered down your body, grabbing your ass and squeezing it lightly as you moaned into his mouth. He moved his hands to your hips lifting you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as you started to unbutton his shirt.

"Second door on the left," you parted your lips just long enough to rasp that out and then returned to feverishly kissing him once more. 

He made his way to the bedroom, carrying you in his arms with little effort. He pushed you against the bedroom door and you reached to open it and then pushed his now unbuttoned shirt down from his shoulders. He groaned and put you down to finish getting rid of his shirt, while you quickly pushed your dress over your head, leaving you in your underwear.

Andy's breath hitched at the sight before his lips were back on you again, nipping at your collarbone, your jaw, your neck, while you reached to get rid of his belt, unzipping his pants. He stepped out of them and you started walking back towards the bed, a tangled mess of hands and lips colliding.

Once you were on the bed he reached to unclasp your bra, throwing it to the side and attaching his lips to your breast, swirling his tongue around your hardened nipple. You arched your chest against his mouth, nails gently scraping on his back as you clung to him. Almost without you noticing his hand trailed down to take off your underwear, fingers expertly teasing your clit as you ground against him, silently asking for more. He put two fingers inside you, the wet sound echoing in the room, and you would almost be embarrassed if it didn't feel so damn good. 

Your lips found his neck, fulfilling your earlier wish and sucking on it, leaving a bite. You started palming him through his boxers, reaching a hand inside to stroke his length as he groaned into your neck. He pulled his finger out of you and before you managed to whimper at the loss, he captured your lips in his, devouring your mouth as he discarded his boxers. 

You parted from him and reached into your bedside drawer to pull out a condom. He quickly slid it on and wasted no time pushing into you, bottoming out in one thrust. You gasped at the stretch, which quickly dissipated once he started moving, snapping his hips onto yours and making you cry out in pleasure.

You clenched around him, the coil in your stomach tightening, and his thrusts started becoming erratic as he brought his fingers to your clit once more, flicking it harshly until came around him with a scream of pleasure, milking him through his orgasm as well. 

He stayed inside you, the both of you panting until he finally pulled out and went to throw the condom. You were too fucked out to whimper at the loss, only closing your eyes until you felt the bed dip beside you. Andy laid down beside you, tentatively wrapping an arm around you, to which you said nothing, only cuddled a bit into him.

The next morning you woke up to the smell of fresh coffee filling your senses. You were puzzled until you saw the discarded clothes and remembered the events of last night. Sighing in content, you got up, putting on a new pair of underwear and picking up Andy's shirt, leaving the few top buttons open as you made your way to the kitchen.

Andy was leaning against the countertop, shirtless with only his pants on, sipping a cup of coffee and scrolling on his phone, and didn't notice your soft footsteps.

"Good morning," you said softly, drawing his attention towards you. "Glad to see you've made yourself at home," you chuckled and came closer to him.

"Sorry," he said, averting his gaze, "I just really needed that coffee before the drive home. But there's more if you want some."

You thanked him and poured yourself a cup of coffee. 

"So…" he started.

"So?" you smiled.

"I had a great time last night. The whole evening," he added quickly. "So… let me take you out sometime. On a date. Please," he smiled. 

"I'd love that," you smiled at him. 

You exchanged numbers and the rest of your breakfast went on uneventfully, until Andy had to go. "Can I have my shirt back?" he asked, grinning.

"Oh, I don't know," you said, pretending to contemplate it, "I'm pretty sure you look better without it."

You both laughed. You went to your room to change and gave him back the shirt. 

"Have a nice drive home," you said. And then, in a surge of confidence, you kissed him, pushing your lips against his with passion. "One for the road," you smirked.

Andy smirked back, no doubt on board with your antics. "I'll call you," he said and opened the door, going into the hall.

"You better!" you called after him, a smile on your face as you watched him go into the elevator and out of sight.

You closed the door and leaned on it, lost in your thoughts like a schoolgirl in love, and then you realized – shit. 

You had actually met a cute guy at a singles mixer. Your friends were never gonna let you live that down. Oh well, you thought, he seems like he's worth it.

hope you enjoyed!! whoosh i love andy barber so much ok bye

Chris Taglist: @swatson06 @horny-nd-bored​ @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds​ @phoebe-21-99 @wintersoldierslut​ @iceebabies​ @wanessalopesueiros @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree​ @kaitcordx25 @bequeening​ @steve-barry-damon-logan​ @itscrazycherryblossomcollection​ @hollandxmarvel​ @darkwitchfromthesouth

if you wanna join / be removed from the taglist, comment/message me! this is a taglist for Chris and his characters. much love <3

[artxyra]

Can you do a continuation of my last ask (the chaos cult one) where the JL is going up against some big villain and they need a group of unpredictable people to defeat them. Cue Batman having a traumatic flashback. He just tells the others that he knows who to call and then leaves. The day of the fight they go up to Batman and ask him where are the people he called and what the plan is and Bruce just replies with "I don't know." The JL is confused and freaking out when suddenly the cult attacks.

Note: @wannajointhecrabcult, sorry your request took awhile to finished. The battle scene had me up in the air, but hey I hope you like it.  

It was rare for when the Justice League are facing a villain that they cannot face directly. They’ve been facing this villain for days, failing with each attempt due to a random interference or the villain switching up the game plan. The league of heroes was getting fed up.

“This is getting out of control.” It was Wonder Woman who throws her hand down against the table. She looks to ever one of her peers. She can feel the tension rising amongst them all.

“What can we do. He changes tactics every time we enter the field. One moment we are winning and the next we are defeated. I hate this.” Among them, murmurs of agreements follow. Everyone put in their two cents aside from Batman.

In deep thought, no one knows what the dark knight was thinking. That wasn’t an unfamiliar site though, so they all turned him.

“I have a plan.” He grunts, secretly hoping this plan doesn’t backfire on him.

Unknown to the league members, chaos has been recking the streets of Gotham and it wasn’t due to the Gotham major villains. No, it was done by his youngest son and his childhood friends. Every night is a new prank, experiment, and or challenge.

Bruce Wayne remembers the time, the Premier Chaotique invaded one of his business meetings with Tim. However, they didn’t do it in person, it was by slides. Tim had premade the business plans, in advance, and was too sleep-deprived to check the files the night before. Instead of being shown the actual presentation, everyone in the meeting was greeted with a video of Premier Chaotique pretending to be in their own meeting very similar to the one that was currently in session. Nathanial had been the presenter as Nino, Kim, and Chloe pretended to be the business partners. It was Damian and Marinette who had been making side noises in the background asking random questions interrupting Nathanial every chance they got. Of course, this got a good laugh out of the business meeting members, but a scowl from Bruce and a sigh of defeat from Tim, who was severely lacking caffeine but active.

The time after that it was prank war around the manor. It was a massive mess filled with water and paint balloons with the looming threat of turning it into a paint (or mud) ball battle. Bruce swears that if it wasn’t for Alfred keeping them in check, they (mainly Marinette and Damian) would have made it happen. This not only happened once but thrice all with different consequences and a massive cry for help. Had he known Damian would turn into a pranking teenager with the help of five others, he would have stuck with dark and stubborn Damian instead. Though he was secretly happy that his son was enjoying his teen years.

Dick and Jason tried to get into their little cult but were met with lies and deceit causing them to finally understand that Marinette is not just sunshine and rainbows but a cold-blooded prankster warrior.

Watching the Premier Chaotique wild videos, that he had bookmarked when the cult was trending, on his way back to the Batcave, Bruce can only internally sob. Post after post is filled with the latest spot and random information on what they were doing. He wouldn’t be surprised to see if that was just a cover-up to keep the GCPD off their trail.

“Please tell me that the manor is still intact,” Bruce asks, eyes close upon existing the Batcave and into one of the many halls of the manor. Alfred simply nods handing the man a towel and offers him a drink.

“Nino, Kim, Nate... I have a plan.” There went the peace as Damian makes his voice known. The Premier Chaotique enters the manor’s living room slightly exhausted but still filled with chaotic energy. Marinette and Chloe break from the group living the boys alone to plot their next escapade.

“Yo, lord dude, what do you have in mind?” Nino asks seemingly intrigued.

The three males listen closely to their leader. The plan was brilliant and chaotic. It involves surfboards, silly string, and heaps of cotton candy.

Once the Premier Chaotique cult had settled down to watch TV, it was then that Bruce makes his own plan known.

“I have a mission for you.” He states with little room for negotiation.

“What’s in it for us?” It was Chloe, the future lawyer or PR agent, asks gesturing to others, who all looks intrigued yet wary by this announcement.

Bruce sighs, whatever comes out of his mouth next could quite possibly come back and punch him in the face. “Endless amount of chaos, for if you take on this villain.”

Marinette narrows her eyes at the older man. “You mean that magician Mumbo who keeps evading you?” She counters. After a while of spending school breaks in Gotham, it didn’t take long for the Premier Chaotique (aside from Damian) to accidentally find the Batcave. They all promise to never speak of it to anyone outside of the Bat-fam or each other. Let’s just say, that was a rough day for everyone in on the secret prior to the exposure.

“Yes, Marinette.” Bruce nods as the sinking feeling of regard (or was it worry) fills his stomach. It wasn’t long before the intrigued looks turn turns into a mixture of mischievous evil. Heroes help them all if this plan ends up becoming something that was not in the favor of the league capturing this villain.

The day when the Justice League was called to apprehend their latest chaotic villain, a cold chill went down everyone’s’ spines. Unknown to everyone, Batman had unleashed an evil like no other upon them.

“With a wave of my wand, I shall disappear,” Mumbo announces.

“Batman!” Wonder Woman shouts as she takes her lasso and throws it to wrap around Mumbo. Mumbo’s eyes widen before ducking to the ground.

“Pesto!” Smoke covers the Justice Members all trying to escape. Mumbo skips over to be in front of them.

“Hey, B-man, yeah so, when is this plan of yours coming through?” Flash asks, running in place but then smoke coves him and now he’s a rabbit.

Batman doesn’t answer. He only grunts and tries to cut loose his bindings. Then an explosion happens in the background. Chaotic laughter, that wasn’t by Mumbo, fills the area. Another round of shivers goes down everyone’s spines.

Then there were lights, bright flashing lights, and an obnoxious duck honk. Vroom. A vehicle flies over their heads.

“Heck yeah, time to face the Premier Chaotique!” A voice screams to the heavens (it was Kim's). Once the car had drifted to the side, the side door slides open revealing two people in inflatable dino suits diving in the direction of Mumbo.

Mumbo barely had any time to conjure up a spell. This gave the Justice League members enough time to a safer position. For Batman, he only hopes that they don’t do overboard, but who was he kidding?

“Need a hand.” Batman looks up to see Nightwing, Red Robin, and Red Hood sitting on top of the building each holding some kind of snack.

“What are you three doing here?” He asks narrowing his eyes at his sons who smirk and gestures to the mess that is happening down below. The League members are heavily confused, but they were unsure whether to ask questions or just watch the scene unfolded.

Beats from a boombox play in the ground catching everyone’s attention.

The two dino suit wearers head butts the magician before disappearing. Mumbo produces his wand and twirls creating a smokescreen of dust particles. When the dust cleared, Mumbo was face-to-face with Damian, wearing a suit similar to Robin’s but replaced with paint splatters instead of its usual colors.

“I'm sure there's a peaceful solution here...” Mumbo starts as he pulls out a multiple color linked handkerchief turns into a lasso and sends it to wrap around Damian. Damian stands there motionless.

Just as the lasso wraps around Damian, a parachute appears over his head. The only facial expression on Damian’s face was a smirk. Within seconds, they were in a whole new world.

Mumbo not liking the gain these people had on him, summons bombs and throws them around him. The bombs hit nothing while a series of various laughter fills the area.

“Huh?” The magician is then twirled around to be faced with Marinette and Chloe both wearing a paint splatter design jumpsuit with domino masks. Marinette curtly nods her head and sends a wink to the magician. Chloe lets out a burst of chaotic laughter.

“Need a hand.” A giant hand appears feet away from the girls but as the hand makes it way over to the girls two motorcycles come slinging through the air. The girls hold out the hand to which the two riders grab hold and help them onto the back.

Mumbo dodges one of the bikes as it nearly skims his hat. He then crackles realizing that he has found a wonder opponent against his magician tactics.

“You boys and girls need to take a drink.” He states as he twirls his wand. A giant glass of water appears in the giant’s hand. Like a waterfall, the liquid pours on top of his opponents. He could hear the grunts from them as they land on the hard ground.

On the ground, Marinette glares at the magician all while keeping a knowing smirk on her lips. She could hear Damian rushing in the background grabbing the scooters and sliding them in their direction. Nino and Kim jump up and takes over their scooters and ride to attack the magician.

“Here have some flowers,” Mumbo says as he takes a boutique of flowers out of sleeves. The boutique is beeping and explodes on impact. The impacts cause the parachute to waver.

Slowly the parachute collapses. Standing on top of the hill trying to maintain the parachute form is Nathaniel who was simply struggling but one motion from Damian told him to stop.

“Well, that’s just great!” Chloe groans once she was out of the parachute gliding on her yellow scooter. Kim and Nino are okay and riding up the blonde.

“A bunch of kids, you sent a bunch of kids after Mumbo” Mumbo screeches to the Justice League but from his position, it was more directed to the Premier Chaotique. “This is nothing that’s what’s up my sleeves can’t help.” A robe sprouts out from Mumbo’s sleeves to wrap around Marinette, who was behind him. Simultaneously, the Premier Chaotique calls out "boss". From the JL’s position, Batman and his sons were all inching to stop Mumbo, but it was Nathanial that stops from and he was holding a camera in his hands.  

“You calling us kids?” The cult members aside from Marinette move to the show Damian trembling with anger.

“What of it?” Mumbo reinforce his statement. Marinette with an exasperated look on her face was silently gleaming.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have done that.” She says as her lips purse together to prevent her from laughing. Though she is slightly worried about what’s going to happen next.

“I’ll ask this again, are you calling us kids?” Damian asks with his voice rising with each word.

“Now’s he’s mad,” Marinette says quickly but returns to her innocent facial expression the moment Mumbo turned to her turn.

“They call us the Premier Chaotique!” He screams running towards Mumbo with his katana in hand. Not sure where he got the katana from. Seeing the running teen coming at him, Mumbo was quick to push Marinette in front of Damian but since her feet weren’t tied, she pushes herself out of the way, allowing Damian to continue his pursuit in harming Mumbo.

The Premier Chaotique winces (or provides commentary like a sportscaster, blame Kim) at the sight of Damian practically mutilating Mumbo. Marinette took this time to free herself allowing The Justice League, aside from the Bat-family cautiously walk over to the group.

By the time they all made it down, Mumbo was seeing stars, his outfit was unrecognizable, and Damian was holding Marinette in his arms keeping her away from anyone but his cult members.

“Good work, cult. We’ll take it from here.” Batman states ignoring the flabbergasted look of the Justice League. For the cult, they knew there was an underlying message within that statement which means that they will be receiving a full-on report back at the Batcave when he arrives home.

Bruce Wayne stands expressionless in front of his son and his son’s friend. The members of Premier Chaotique side eye one another with hidden expressions of laughter.

“Do I even want to know what you six, excuse me, five did whole under the parachute?” He questioned eyeing each of the kids including his oldest sons. There is a slight chance that those three managed to help the Premier Chaotique with some of the ideas.

“He’s not dead,” Damian shrugs.

“Besides B-man, what we did was practically child’s play.” Chloe states waving before turning to nails and scoffing at how they look.

Bruce groans and face-palms, “That was not, child’s play.”

“Hey, Mr. Dude, you promised us an endless amount of chaos…and we delivered.” Nino adds messing with his music player trying to figure out his next tunes.

“Bruce, we promise not to do any pranks inside the manor.” Marinette offers but before her cult members could protest, she continues with, “Will that satisfy your concerns?”  

Bruce knows there was a loophole in that statement, but he knew he wouldn’t get any information from them. Sighing, he wraps up the conversation and disappears to wherever he goes when beyond stress.

“Are you really not going to prank the manor?” Dick asks hoping that they will say yes. Marinette looks to her members and nods. This sends Dick crying in happiness and dragging Jason and Tim with him out of the cave.

“Are we really not going to prank the manor?” Nathanial asks.

“Of course not. We two options: real-life game simulation or turning the manor into a giant maze of falling dominoes. Which one you wanna do?” The smirk on Marinette’s face said it all. They were not done with being the Premier Chaotique.

“Game simulation!” They collectively shout. Far from the cave, everyone who will be indirectly affected felt a shiver go down their spines.

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[nerdybirdy6602]

Prompt Q: Quiet

Up next for the Dimension 20 Alphabet @dimension20alphabet event is a bit of a longer fabriz fic. No specific spoilers for FH:SY. Now, here’s a time when Riz notices that Fabian is just a little quieter than usual.

Fabian was quiet today.

Passing him in the hallway this morning, Riz had waved hello only to get a nod of acknowledgement back. Catching up with Fabian at his locker before third period as they so often did was also a fruitless endeavor. The half elf barely said a word before pushing past Riz to his next class. Even during lunch, their friends dominated the conversation instead of Fabian. He hardly even ate his lunch, deciding to simply poke at it like he suspected it was poisoned.

Riz knew his friends and knew them well. You didn’t kill an ancient dragon and traverse a cursed forest with people without getting to know them. Fabian being quiet was scary, because it meant he was in his own head. Riz, knowing the overactive machinations of his own mind, found such lengthy periods of introspection daunting. With all that Fabian had experienced, he figured it couldn’t be good for him either. So, when the final period ended and they were free to go, Riz made sure he was the first person out of the building.

He sat atop the Hangman, which he recognized was a bold move seeing as the vehicle didn’t care for him very much. Whispering, he explained, “Fabian didn’t look good today. I’m trying to stop him from running away from whatever is messing him up inside. Please don’t throw me off.”

The Hangman didn’t reply to him directly, but he felt a comforting rev come from the demonic engine. Though he couldn’t be sure what exactly the motorcycle was thinking, Riz took it as a good sign. He watched as, moments later, Fabian walked up to the bike looking worse than when Riz had seen him at lunch.

“Not in the mood, The Ball,” Fabian mumbled. “Get off. I’m going home.”

“Not until you explain what happened,” Riz answered defiantly, puffing out his chest a bit. “You’ve barely spoken all day.”

“The Ball,” Fabian seethed quietly through grit teeth. It made Riz’s ears perk up into an alert, anxious position. “Last chance. Get off the Hangman.”

“Why can’t you just—”

Next thing Riz knew, there was a strong force against his chest, and the poor goblin boy was staring at the blue sky above. He struggled to catch the breath that was knocked out of his lungs before he could process what the hell just happened. As Riz choked and gasped at the pain in his chest, he realized Fabian had straight up punched him in the chest. A wave of betrayal and hurt washed over Riz before he realized that Fabian probably wasn’t in the best place right now.

“Fuck,” his friend swore, stooping down to look at Riz. “Fuck, I didn’t… Well, I did mean to, but… Shit, are you okay?”

Riz gave a quick nod, coughing and hacking as he sat up slowly. Weakly, he rasped, “If you really wanted me off, there were other ways to do it.”

Silence spread between the two of them, palpable and tense. Riz felt the eyes of their classmates on them, as fights tended to gather a crowd. For once, it looked like Fabian didn’t like and didn’t want the attention. Extending a hand, Fabian helped Riz get to his feet. He dusted Riz off and bestowed a Healing Word on him to fix the damages, looking incredibly guilty.

“Take a ride with me, Riz,” Fabian offered, glancing around at the crowded parking lot. “Please?”

“Sure, Fabes.”

Riz hopped on behind Fabian, gripping the boy’s waist tight as they escaped the prying eyes of their peers. The goblin boy felt the buzz of his crystal in his pocket, presumably from their party, but he ignored it. Whatever Fabian needed, it definitely wasn’t their friends casting blame. So, he let the ride go on in comfortable silence.

Turns out Fabian decided to take them to a park. It was quiet and somewhat secluded, which made sense if Fabian wanted privacy whilst he bared his heart to Riz. Fabian smoothly parked the Hangman and led Riz to the edge of the park’s pond. The half elf sat down in the grass, gathering stones to throw into the water. Riz took the unspoken invitation and followed suit.

“I broke up with Aelwyn last night.”

Well, Riz hated to admit that he kind of saw that coming. The pair had been picking fights with each other over nonsense things for weeks. Aelwyn would nitpick Fabian’s clothes, and Fabian would roll his eyes when Aelwyn vented about her drama. Riz could see from a mile away that they weren’t compatible.

“You didn’t seem very happy with her,” Riz admitted gently. “Maybe it’s for the best?”

Fabian tensed like he was about to lash out, and Riz braced for the impact. However, nothing came. He merely threw a stone into the pond and watched as the ripples spread across the smooth surface of the water as he mumbled, “I wanted it to work, even when I knew it wasn’t going to. I tried, I really did, but it’s hard to give your full attention to someone when you’re… distracted.”

Riz quirked a brow. Distracted by what? Fabian barely paid attention in class, and most of his spare time was spent with the group. Rather than ask the question Fabian was baiting him into, he provided the obvious, but untrue, alibi. “Yeah, life just gets in the way sometimes. Between side-quests and school and family, I’m surprised you had any—”

“Not that kind of distraction,” Fabian interjected, chucking another stone into the water. “I mean it’s hard to love someone when you’re in love with someone else.”

Oh shit.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner, Fabes? Who’s the girl?”

Fabian’s cheeks grew red, and he turned his face away and mumbled, “It’s not important. It’ll never happen.”

“That doesn’t sound like Fabian Aramais Seacaster,” Riz teased, a hint of his fangs showing as he smiled. “Come on, it’s you we’re talking about! You’re always going on about how perfect you are and how lucky anyone would be to be with you. Why the sudden humbleness?”

No words answered him. Instead, the reverberating sound of splashing water filled the empty space between them. Carefully, as if approaching a wild animal that could attack at any moment, Riz scooted closer.

“Come on, dude,” he said earnestly. “You can trust me. I won’t say anything.”

Fabian surged forward so quick and smooth it spooked the young goblin detective. He jumped, only slightly, as Fabian pressed his lips against Riz’s own. The goblin, having never been kissed seriously, had no clue what to do. His hands stalled at his sides, his eyes were wide open, and his lips stayed puckered tight. The feeling wasn’t unwelcomed; that wasn’t what his stock-still posture was for. Riz was simply caught off-guard, and that alone caused his brain to short-circuit.

When Fabian pulled away, which to Riz felt like an eternity later but was in actuality probably a few seconds, shame was etched onto his face. The goblin couldn’t begin to tell what Fabian was thinking. Hell, he couldn’t begin to process his own thoughts. Riz’s mouth opened and closed several times, searching for the words that would explain what he was feeling. Alas, he had none.

“I should have asked,” Fabian mumbled weakly, apologetically watching Riz struggle. “That was dumb. I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I should just go and—”

“No!”

Riz reached out, gripping Fabian’s arm tight in order to hold him in place. Riz wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he knew he didn’t want the half elf to leave with this unresolved. Fabian, looking shocked by the outburst, remained on the grass. He didn’t meet Riz’s eyes, though it was hard to tell if it was out of fear, embarrassment, or both.

“I didn’t hate that,” Riz said slowly. “I know you probably think I did because of what I did, or I guess didn’t do. You’ve also chosen to surprise-kiss a guy with no experience, so that’s kind of on you.”

That elicited a laugh from Fabian as he had hoped. The sound was weak in and of itself, but it showed Riz that the situation could be mended. Fabian looked more at ease, at least, which made hope swell in the goblin’s chest.

“We can make this a thing if that’s what you want,” Riz offered kindly. “If it works out, great! If not, we’ll still be best friends.”

“What if you won’t be able to look at me the same afterwards?”

“Then that’s my problem,” Riz answered immediately, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And I’ll get over it. But Fabian, you’re always going to be my best friend. Always.”

Fabian sighed, a small smile on his lips. He finally met Riz’s eyes, and it seemed to settle both their anxieties. The half elf was no longer afraid, and the goblin felt his mind start processing normally again. His detective brain was whirring to life, and Riz couldn’t help but wonder how he couldn’t see the signs.

“Riz,” Fabian murmured, eyes drifting to Riz’s mouth. “Can I try that again?”

“Please,” Riz whispered, his cheeks flushing teal.

This time, it went a lot easier.

[ohtobeaspettyasleah]

how long does it take for Lorelei and Gray to meet? And how did he react when Ethan told him about the new assistant situation? :)

Grayson’s Phone rang out on the living room table as he helped Lisa move her vanity around upstairs, missing the facetime call Ethan was begging he’d answer. “Shit” was all he said when the called died out. No answer. Ethan placed his phone back into his back pocket-- trying to figure out how exactly he was gonna word this to stop his brother from going off the deep end at him. His phone pinging not too long after, not Grayson, but Lorelei. 

Lorelei Figgs: You never mentioned a time for tomorrow so is it okay if I come over around 9? I can come anytime! Just seemed like a good time.”

Ethan Dolan: fuck sorry, yeah come round at 9. Trying to call Gray now and tell him what’s up.

Lorelei sat in her bed up against her headboard. Her pillows shoved down behind her back, oxygen being blown into her lungs generously as she typed away on her laptop. The one Ethan had given her. Setting up her google docs and organising personal information she sometimes forgot. If Lorelei wasn’t a highly functioning over analyser, she never would’ve seconds guessed Ethans tone. She always did that, tried to read her text as if someone was speaking to her in person. 

Lorelei Figgs: Does he not know? 

Ethan Dolan: Not exactly, but we’re good. Trust the process Lore. ill see you tomorrow.

Ethan had always been a firm believer in manifesting possibilities, goals and overall events you wanted to see play out in life. But unfortunately, he hadn’t even had a chance to think about manifesting the idea Grayson would loose his absolute shit when the time came for the boot to drop. It was time: his phone was ringing. Facetime call from Gray. 

“Yo bro, I was helping ma with her vanity what’s up?” Grayson looked rough. His facial hair had grown rugged. Not kept. The blue flannel was probably a mere three seconds away from falling off his back-- having not changed properly in days. Sure, he showered and changed his underwear-- but that was about the extent of it. His hair was greasy, slicked. Ethan could clearly see the shin. 

“Don’t get pissed.”

“What did you go? Ethan--”

“Nothing! Nothing just-- well, I hired that girl, the friend of Adele’s? She starts tomorrow and--” 

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME ETHAN!!” Grayson screamed with a groan so guttural it made Ethan kinda flinch. “We’re a fucking TEAM!”

“Well, okay look it was cute and needed when you left but it’s kinda hard to make team decisions when you’re not fucking here bro, ever think of that?” Ethan retaliated with a sigh. “Just meet her bro.” 

“Why the fuck would you do that without me bro, Jesus, that’s it, I’m coming home.” Ethan tried to hide his smile. Deep down he’d missed Grayson although he’d try twist reality to suit the ideology that it was Grayson who missed him. 

“I’ll book you a flight. When for?” 

“We have a fucking assistant for that shit Ethan get what’s her name to do it!! The next one out, text me later I’m gonna pack my fucking bags.” when Grayson hung up Ethan could tell he was in fact-- Pissed. But as his smile grew with the idea of his brother coming home he knew the anger would fade. All he had to do was meet Lorelei. 

Grayson kept his rage built up within him the entire trip home, including in the car ride back from LAX to home. Ethan coped an ear full the entire ride home, good thing he didn’t have to drive-- forever thankful for the technology of autopilot. He swore with the way Grayson was bitching in his ear about being left out of important decisions like hiring a new assistant, Ethan would’ve driven straight into a wall if he had control. 

“Is she at ours?” Grayson hissed. 

“With Mando yeah, she’s working, Mando was going through the DT productions laptop with her, Sharing the docs with her email-- you know shit I should be doing but I had to come pick your bitch ass up.”

“Wouldn’t be back if you hadn’t hired a new assistant without me--” Grayson grumbled. 

“Good well, she’s already doing a great fucking job isn’t she because she got nature-loving tree kissing wild boy back to L.A.” Grayson glared-- furious. 

“She’s fired the moment I walk in the door bro-- you don’t get to make these decisions without me!!” 

“Grayson you cant fire her I fucking hired her yesterday! We need an assistant.”

“Yeah well we’ll figure it out together but this ones on you-- fire her, refire someone else together! Because this is always- always something we do together Ethan, no ifs or buts and the idea you just couldn’t pick up the fucking phone and ask me beforehand is infuriating!!” it was one of the top ten heated arguments Ethan and Grayson had ever had in the Tesla. Not the car-- just the Tesla. Different top tens. 

“I didn’t want to bother you, bro! Fuck! I needed you here but you needed jersey a little more and I didn’t wanna bother you with work. We were on a break, relaxing.”

“Well look what good that did! I’m here! I’m back! I’m the bad guy because I gotta fix your mess--!”

“WHAT MESS!”

“WHATEVER HER NAME IS!” 

Ethan didn’t respond. deciding to give up and give in. his head hurt from the shouting. He had a feeling, deep down, that Grayson would calm down. He always calmed down-- he was angry, hurt even, that Ethan had left him out of such an important decision, but he’d get over it. And he did. Very quickly. The second he saw Lorelei.

Ethan delta quick change in atmospheric pressure as she walked in behind Grayson-- now standing still at the door. Swallowing thick as he stared. He hated that he was this way around girls he thought were pretty. But he couldn’t help it. 

“Lori, Grayson, Gray? This is Lori--”

“Grayson, its actually so good to meet you! I was pretty bumbed out when Ethan said you were still in Jersey when i came over for my interview thingo-- but hey.” She stood, lifting her arm and extending her hand to shake his. Grayson mimicked her actions. 

“Lori, its uh, yeah no its good to meet you too, thanks for uh-- coming on board so quick, we can get a little stressed out when someone isn’t here to deal with, with like meetings and schedules and shit like that.” Ethan couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath as he watched Grayson stagger over his words. Night and day from the man who sat brooding in his passanger seat. 

“Well like i was saying to Ethan yesterday i might not have too much experience but im pretty stoked with the opportunity.” it washer eyes that had him right from the get go. Eyes that swirled in different shades or brown-- melting together to create a perfect deep brown that made them seem doe like. Beautiful. 

“Experience can only be taught, everyone’s gotta stare somewhere right.” Grayson smiled. Lorelei chuckled. Mando side eyed Ethan and Ethan almost wheezed. 

“Alright alright, Gray go shower and fucking shave, Lor imma show you how to set up in the podcast room works.” 

“Cool, i’m keen, ill move my stuff down there then, brought a note book to write stuff down.” she pressed her lips together nervously Grayson watched as her hand patted the hard cover diary that she held before watching her pick up her coffee cup. Mando had already beaten both Ethan and Grayson to showing Lori how the coffee machine worked. Knowing that when everyone was working? Sometimes no one had a chance to even make it. Grayson stood still and sighed, knowing the roast was coming. 

“Dude--”

“Don’t even start E--”

“I’m sweating, your so awkward bro, what the fuck was that!” Ethan laughed as he covered his mouth. His cheeks red. “Bro--”

“She, her eyes got me shut up, i couldn’t think”

“So she isn’t fired? Just so we’re clear on this decision together? Not fired?” Mando furrowed his brows, wondering what type of question that was as Grayson trudged down the hall with his bag. Groaning: 

“This cannot be happening”