#these snippets are just motivation for me at this point

[just-a-lonelypenguin]

a tiny little zine inspired by @koddlet’s how-to! (i love your zines, they’re so fun and inspiring!) i first just folded it out of a sticky note for fun and put it in my pocket thinking “i’ll fill this in later when i have an idea” and then i looked outside and it was so. fucken dark. and here we are :) i really loved treating it as an exercise in “draw whatever comes to mind, let it be as shitty as possible, just try something” — drawing isn’t something i think of as my strong suit but little doodles sure are fun!

[branmer]

ive really lost my motivation to write recently

[lilacxquartz]

eat you up;

toji fushiguro x f!reader

a/n: smuturday is now in session — i’ll be posting these on occasion whenever i have a piece ready, usually these wont go over a wc of 1k.

tags/themes: reader insert, drabble, cunnilingus, oral, praise, smut • w.c: ~800 • masterlist, read on ao3

“And you’re sure you’ll be able to breathe?” you asked Toji, who was staring at you from the bed with a half lidded look.

He hummed, curling his lips into a teasing smile. “Babe, trust me. Even if you do, that’ll be the way I want to go.”

“Not helping…” you sighed, staring down at your bare legs. This was so much hotter when it was something you were both talking about, but now you had cold feet.

Toji propped himself up to his elbows, serving you a slightly annoyed look. The man loved everything about how you were, from your personality to your body to everything else in between; it was almost insulting to him with how much you doubted yourself.

“I got you,” he murmured, patting down his chest as though to get you closer. “My beautiful doll, let me worship you.”

You tried to bite back your worries and shuffled closer towards him, kneeling and crawling over the bed and hovering over him with your bare skin.

His smile widened, taking in the sight of you on top of him. “Now there’s a sight I can’t get tired of…”

“How do I do this anyway?” you fretted, staring down at him.

“Keep crawling,” he encouraged you, “quite literally just… straddle my face.”

You whined a little bit but did as he told and climbed over him, leaning forward against the headboard while your knees anchored opposite his head parallel to one another.

“Like this?” you quietly asked.

Toji flicked his lips to a half smile, taking in the sight of you hovering above him. Your scent of arousal was right in his face and he was loving every second of it, feeling completely in his element. How lucky he had gotten with you, he couldn’t help but think.

“Exactly like that, babe,” he hummed, raising his chin up slightly as his fingers delicately parted at your sex, “just like that…”

The second his tongue found your clit, you couldn’t help but gasp slightly; Toji was an expert seemingly at knowing what he was doing and where to point and how to move to get you to squirm right above his face.

“So responsive,” he muttered, slightly sounding muffled in between your legs. He could feel himself growing warm in all senses of the word—slight hints of redness crept onto his face—while something far below stirred. God, he was growing so hard at the thought of getting you off.

His large hands moulded into the soft contours of your ass, squeezing at your flesh like it belonged to him. His eyes were half lidded and almost zoned out, as though he was already lost in the moment. Toji lapped up at your now fully swollen bud, sucking at the skin in a crazed fervour, intoxicated by just how much you squirmed.

His voice was low and almost breathless as he on and off whispered pretty snippets of loving praise. It was a miracle that you had even heard of these musings, given just how hard your heartbeat thundered in both your chest as well as pulsating in your ears as well as just how needy, whiny and almost pleading your moans were as they slipped out.

“You taste so good,” you would hear him mumble out, his grip on your legs tightening as much as he could without hurting you, “relax for me, let me take care of you…”

Your body started to quiver as your sense of balance quickly weakened; your hands gripped at the headboard that you kept yourself steady on but that was all quickly faltering. “You’re too good at this,” you added in a strained gasp, feeling the tightness in your stomach begin to contract and pass in radiating waves. “Toji… I’m gonna—“

“—keep going, let go for me, doll,” he almost growled between laps, his voice coming out as barely coherent but by his motivated tone you could just about make it out.

His hands guided you even further down so that you were essentially burying him with your sex, but he couldn’t have been happier; he licked at you like a man thoroughly starved, relishing the sensation of the way you grinded against jaw with anticipated hunger.

Unable to contain it for a second longer, your body convulsed and came undone, feeling all of the rising pressure in your core sweep into an apex point of gushing, shuddering release.

Toji of course only pushed himself further inward, so proud of you for finally getting more comfortable but also in a state of complete and utter bliss.

Finally, he could show you again and again just how much he appreciated you and he could hardly wait until the next time.

[mustyrosewater]

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐊𝐘 - 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊

𝐫𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6,068

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: returning to the small wyoming town you were raised after a sharp fall from grace, your music career having turned into mindless pop you were forced to churn out by your manager and now ex, a return to home is just what you need, the perfect place to take a break from the life of a pop star, and also to meet some old faces.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: rhett is jealous again, tense eye contact, niki being a walking green flag, swearing and slight arguing.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: the niki fangirls are gonna love this one, the niki haters maybe not so much, sorry not sorry. the reposts and comments are so greatly appreciated my loves, your feedback means the world and keeps me motivated! please enjoy chapter three!

Aside from the slight talking to from your father when he had come home about an hour later, with a soft reminder to just let him know next time, the night trailed off to be particularly uneventful after the video call with Amanda had ended.

The next morning, you’d hopped into the shower first thing, suddenly feeling all the more grateful for the list of shower supplies you had no doubt Amanda had gone to the trouble of ordering and sending out to you, as they’d been waiting for you ready to go in the shower caddy on the first day.

Soaps that smelled like honey and facial exfloiator had seemed to be exactly what was needed to make you feel recharged and invigorated, washing away the sour emotions of last night.

Reminding yourself of the meditation tracks your therapist had sent to your phone as you stepped back out of the shower, you took the extra time to blow dry your wet hair, putting it up into a claw clip before changing into a comfortable set of grey lounge wear.

Today was a day that was whole heartedly for you, you knew your father was out today, so the entire house was solely your own for a few sweet hours.

Having initially began the day with a coffee and a quick fifteen minute guided meditation out on the porch, just as was recommended, a womans soft breathy voice guiding you through breathing exercises and wellness techniques that you were only half paying attention to.

Your reflex was to grab your phone and post your regularly scheduled promotions for whatever sponsor you were set up with for the day, but here you were, no pressure to post anything, no schedule to follow.

In short, you felt like you had too much free time to do anything with.

Standing on the porch looking out into the driveway in the distance, you could only huff and walk back inside, looking for something that you could fill your day with.

There was only so much old coffee to wash off of the mugs on the sink, polishing them to perfection was enough to waste away a whopping seventeen minutes, you’re only other option to sit on the plush couch and flick on the tv on the wall.

Sitting cross legged, you flicked through a few channels, nothing but older sitcoms played out on the tv stations out this way, maybe a local ad here and there.

As you flicked once more to another channel, the sound of the halfway point of a song began, realising you’d flicked onto the MTV of all things, surprised they even aired it out this far.

Within seconds, you recognised the song to be one of your own, the music video playing along with it, the skintight outfit you were wearing glistening while you danced, two other backup dancers imitating the movements behind you.

You could remember filming this one so clearly, the green screen you’d been made to dance in front of a clear memory, now superimposing you against a backdrop of what you guessed was meant to be the top of a building.

Inbetween the shots of you dancing and singing, they were followed by snippets of you splayed out onto a silk sheet on a bed, the little black nightie they’d put you in leaving little to the imagination as you made bedroom eyes into the camera, just as you were directed to.

It was hard not to cringe, you didn’t even hate the song entirely, the lyrics were just empty against what could have been a half decent hook.

Words of desire towards nobody in particular, singing about how much you loved some imaginary person and how badly you needed them.

The next shot seemed to be you in some sort of leather leotard with gold details, walking through a crowd of people in just as odd outfits dancing along to the song you were lip syncing against.

Unable to watch anymore, you flicked over to the next channel not even caring much for what was on there anymore, even if it was just so that you could have some background noise.

The feeling of your phone vibrating next to you was a welcome distraction, even if it was just a notification from the weather app.

Oh. This was much better than the weather.

A text message, from an unknown number, that didn’t remain unknown for long as you actually opened the message, reading keenly as you found yourself sitting up straighter.

‘hey, its niki. i hope you dont mind, your dad gave me your number before he left last night.’

Even thought you ached to check whether or not he’d actually asked for your number, or if your dad had simply offered it, which did actually sound like something he’d do to be polite to one of your old highschool friends, you resisted, some part of you trying her hardest to remain composed and play it cool.

Is it weird if you respond back too quickly? Would he know you’ve done nothing all day except stare at your phone and cringe at old music videos.

Tapping the back of your phone against your hand impatiently, you allowed at least a minute or two before you even looked at the message again, feeling the slightest bit giddy.

Finally allowing yourself the privilege of typing back a message, you’re teeth sunk into your bottom lip just a little bit as your nails tapped lightly against the screen.

‘oh hey! that’s ok, we probably should have exchanged numbers anyway, considering, haha.’

Unable to help yourself, you screenshotted the message, along with your response, sending it straight to Amanda, already knowing that she would want to be the first of all people to know.

Watching the text you had sent her turn green, as well as the small ‘read’ icon coming up from the bottom almost immediately, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that the facetime request all ready popped up onto your screen, the photo you took of Amanda when you were out to dinner spanning across the screen.

Opening the call with a soft hum sound, Amanda’s face came into view, a grin on her face rivalling that of the cheshire cat.

From what you could see, she was in her gym clothes, her hair in a low bun and a fresh sheen of sweat on her face as she walked to the locker room.

“What did i tell you.” she spoke as soon as she was alone in the locker room, shaking her head at you in the way she always did when she was proven right.

“Ok but like, this doesn’t mean anything solid yet.”

Your response only made her smirk more, her head turning as she opened up the locker containing her bag.

“Clearly he wants to give you something solid.”

Letting out a cackle, your head flying back slightly as you stood yourself, walking to the kitchen and placing the phone on the window sill so that you could make another coffee as you talked.

Before you could continue, you heard your phone vibrate, looking straight at the screen and squinting as you read the message that popped up.

Hearing the vibration through the face time call, Amanda’s wide eyed looked only made you grin more, putting a hand over your mouth to laugh as she placed her airpod in her ear to get ready to exit the gym.

“What’d he say!” she begged, waiting impatiently as you opened the message and read it silently. “I want you, baby, come round to my house so I can bend you over my kitchen table.” Amanda’s poor impression of some kind of latin accent and her comically deepened voice only made you roll your eyes.

“Shut up, thats not what it says.”

Finally reading the message, you couldn’t help but hop in place a tiny bit and let out a small little giggle.

“He’s asking if i’m gonna be at the rodeo on Wednesday, his dad and him are gonna be running his food truck there.”

As Amanda let out a sound of glee, she held a finger to signal to you to wait a second as she opened her car door and got inside, positioning the phone up on her dashboard as she gripped the steering wheel of the parked car.

“So, first of all, you’re going” she began, already taking charge as if she was planning every little detail out in her head to the upmost significance. “And second of all, you will be calling me the night of to pick a pair of jeans that makes your ass look irresistable.”

Rolling your eyes, you pulled up a mocking salute, unable to say no to any of Amanda’s orders; To be completely fair, she knew better thank you about most of these things, having always been the one you came to for advice.

She felt untouchable to you sometimes, like she just had everything figured out, even if you knew in your heart of hearts it wasn’t true.

There had been more than enough times where she’d been vulnerable to you in the same way you had to her, the time’s she’d taken care of her niece when her sister had to go through some treatment at the hospital, the flowers you’d helped her pick out.

It was so often that she was looking after you, so coming around to her place to help her with some dinner and a helping hand with the fussy little seven year old girl had been something she’d barely even had to ask.

“Ok girl, i love you, but i have to get ready to head back home, i’m having Kaycey over again.”

Nodding understandably, you gave her a smile as picked up the phone, using your free hand to run your fingers across your scalp, a small yawn coming out of your mouth.

“Tell her i said hi.”

Kaycey was adorable, but full of stubbornness, the pair of you slowly worked out what made her tick, how she preferred to watch old Bratz movies you’d watched when you were younger, as opposed to Bluey. As the facetime finally ended, the small chirp from your phone signalling the disconnect, you finally spared a look out the window, noticing the beginnings of rain falling from a now darkened sky, the first time it’s rained since the first time you arrived back in Wyoming.

Leaning against the wall as you held your phone back up, you continued typing out your response to Niki, assuring him you wouldn’t miss it, that you’d come up and say hi, even requesting the promise of some free food as a lighthearted joke.

Putting your phone down on the counter, you allowed yourself a moment to step outside, the pittering of rain already starting to sound out against the tin patio roof;

Just as you’d used to do all the time as a child, you took a deep inhale into your lungs, the unplaceable smell of the rain making your mind come flooding with nostalgia.

You’d had no idea just how good the smell of Wyoming rain smelled until it had been so long since you’d even been around it, finding yourself at a weird sense of peace that you hadn’t experienced for a long while.

-

When the night before the rodeo finally came, there’d been a steady stream of messaging occurring with Niki, messages exchanged reminiscing over highschool memories, asking about how his mother was doing and him gushing about how happy she was about the photo.

Graduating from texting to snapchat should have definitely been the first sign, or at least Amanda thought it was.

Soon enough you were receiving stupid little selfies of him grinning while stood behind the bar, captioned with things such as ‘it’s so dead here, don’t how know many more glasses i can polish’.

It was hard to pretend like you weren’t kicking your legs like a little girl whenever you received one of his absolutely adorable selfies, sometimes at home, sometimes at work.

It was on the off chance that when he’d asked how you were doing, you had a photo of a towel on the door, mentioning needing to take a shower in a bit.

The following snap you’d received from him only about a minute or two later had you with your jaw slack.

A cheeky grin on his face, obviously aware of the nature of the photo, there he stood in all his glory, his arm reached above his head to rest his hand on the doorway above him, his shirt riding up just enough so that you could see the beginning of a line going along his pelvis, a sneaky little hint of olive skin poking out.

For a moment you felt like you’d died and gone to heaven, the way you had to put a hand over your mouth to hide the small laugh of disbelief at his sudden boldness.

The caption didn’t help by any means, only agreeing that he himself also had to shower, the mirror in the bathroom providing just enough of a shadow so that he was slightly less in view.

At first, it was hard not to feel at least a little bit of panic, debating what exactly you could send back, whether or not you wanted to match his energy, return the bone he had thrown your way.

Brief consultation with Amanda has proved more than helpful, advising that an innocent enough little selfie in your pajamas laying on the bed was more than enough of a response, while still hinting at something more.

By no means were you about to jump into sending a nude to your old science partner, but there was certainly some little kick out of being subtly flirty, you definitely missed the feeling of being desired, to be chased, it was invigorating.

It was in all honesty refreshing.

As you placed your phone back face down on the side table, there was a level on anticipation to be found, even if it was late; knowing you were gonna see him tomorrow and that you’d had a pair of jeans hanging on your door along with the stetson your father had just let you keep.

Everything coming together made it hard to sleep at all.

-

With your father’s agreeance to drop you off at the rodeo, even if he wasn’t attending himself this time, he’d seemed please you were taking the initiative to go somewhere by yourself, musing about how he’d been invited to a poker night with some friends anyway.

Assuring that he’d have his phone on the entire time if you needed anything, he’d waved goodbye to you from the window of his truck, a pleased smile on his face.

The task of actually weaving through the crowds was daunting at first, but slowly you became used to the feeling of turning your body from side to side as you progressed forward, allowing yourself to move in the same rhythm as everyone around you.

There was definitely so much to see that had changed since when you used to go to the rodeo as a kid, more games for the kids set up, so many more different food options available, it was a weird, but not unwelcome change in the slightest.

Watching a group of kids throwing darts at the balloons set up on the wall in front of them, it was hard not to smile, your arms crossing over your chest and watching one of the smallest ones lining up their shot, concentration clearly ethched on his chubby little face, before he threw, a pop sounding out as he cheered with his friends.

Well that was just a little bit adorable huh.

Pulling your purse tighter to your shoulder, you’d hoped your choice of outfit was plain enough so as to not stand out hugely, the denim flare’s on your legs paired with a slightly cropped tee, simple enough, you’d hoped.

The smell of all the fried food only became more tempting the closer you got, being reminded of one of the reasons you’d even come out to the rodeo by yourself in the first place.

You kept your eyes peeled, trying to remember Niki’s description of the food truck that he’d shared over text, as well as a rough idea of where it’d be parked.

It was the bright yellow that initially caught your eye, followed by the small line following to the window lit up by fluorescent white light, only to finally land on Niki, there, in all his glory, a short sleeved grey shirt and apron around his neck.

He seemed so swept up by orders, handing food out of the window and yelling out orders with each docket printing out seemingly at an unforgiving pace.

You recognised his father, along with one other stranger, likely just another cook that worked at the restaurant, grilling away, working at a pace that made you nervous on their behalf.

Smiling to yourself, you approached patiently, waiting for the line to go down until you eventually got to the front, the anticipation killing you each time you’d step forward.

Just as professional as always, you heard Niki yell out a quick “Just one second!” as he hadn’t turned his head to look at you yet, punching an order into an ipad with the concentration of a nuerosurgeon.

When he’d finally looked down at you, you’re smile greeting him, it was quickly reciprocated, his eyes widening as he leaned forward slightly out of the window.

“Hey you! You made it!” he started, turning to look at the dockets printed and hanging above the grill, seemingly checking to see how it was all travelling before he turned back to you.

“If you give me like, five minutes, ill come out and hang, just gotta wait for the rush to finish.”

He was so sweet about it, seeming apologetic as if you weren’t the one he was preparing to halt his work for. Nodding, you gave him a thumbs up, going to turn before you heard his voice once more.

“Pendeja!” he yelled with a laugh, shaking his head when you turned back around “what do you want?” he enquired, gesturing to the chalk board on the side of the truck “on the house.”

“Niki, no, i can’t-”

Your protest was interrupted by a wave of his hand.

“Shut up and tell me what you want.”

God his smile was so gorgeous, even when he was telling you to shut up.

Letting out a sigh as you tilted your head, it was hard to concentrate on anything written on the chalkboard next to his head.

“Just surprise me.”

Finding a spot to the side was easy enough, settling yourself down on one of the many tables that had been set up as a place to eat, you could only wait in silence, finding yourself unable to do much else aside from checking your phone occasionally, pretending to be interested in the time.

Just as promised, after about five or so minutes, you could Niki arriving from the distance, two plastic plates in his hands, apron now discarded you didn’t know where.

Your arm extended out to wave at him, smiling brightly as he came to sit across from you, sliding the plate of food in front of you.

Only now that he was across from you did you realise that he was also holding two glass bottles under his arm, grabbing them and setting them on the table between the two of you, a satisfied sigh leaving his throat as he gestured to what you now realised was a corona.

“For you.” he spoke, nodding to himself, seemingly not noticing the way your face fell only slightly, still trying your hardest to maintain a smile.

You had absolutely no clue how to actually explain everything, the reason you couldn’t touch anything even slightly alcoholing, on top of how you might explain it to him without making him feel petrified at having offered you a beer of all things.

Opening your mouth to speak, you could only let out a small sound, seemingly having no clue as to how you would phrase it.

Noticing the look on your face, his eyebrows rose, concern seeming to cross over his features as he looked down at the spread he’d brought for you.

It felt rude to decline the drink he’d brought for you, no doubt from the fridge of the food truck himself, even worse if he’d actually bought it for you.

“Everything ok? Is it the food? I didn’t make it if thats what you’re wondering.”

His attempt at brushing it off with humour made you feel better in all honestly, a soft exhale of laughter leaving your lips as you leaned forward and hung your head slightly.

Looking back up, you gave him an apologetic look.

“No, the food looks amazing, it’s just..” part of you felt petrified to even touch the bottle, images of you drunk in the street in heels and a sparkly outfit while paparazzi hounded you coming to mind.

Keeping your voice low, you kept it to a simple “I don’t drink.”

Niki’s eye’s widened, his arm immediately coming out to grip the bottle, pulling it to his end.

“Shit, im so sorry.”

The fact he felt bad for something he didn’t even realise killed you a little, yet he seemed to shift the mood back over pretty quickly, sending you that same grin he’d sported in the bathroom photo.

“More for me.”

As you sat and ate, your discussion seemed to range from an array of different topics, old school memories that you were able to laugh about all the way to him explaining all the different times he’d had to kick people out of the bar.

All good things must come to an end evidently, your stomach sinking a little bit as the topic of yourself was brought back into discussion.

“So how long do you think you’re gonna be back in town for?”

The question was obviously innocent, but it only made that ever present anxiety in the back of your mind grow ten fold. The long answer was that you had no idea, would you just hide out here till you had no career to come back to?

Live off of the royalties of your songs for the rest of your life? Not likely.

As much as you wanted to pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist past this small town, you knew there was still record studio executives waiting on you, of course the timeline of your recovery was in your hands, the scandal could still keep your name in headlines for at least a little while longer.

But eventually you knew in your soul they were going to start pulling out when you started dropping off the charts, fading into obscurity.

In the god’s honest truth you hadn’t even thought about it that deeply yourself.

“Absolutely no clue.” you laughed out, holding your hands up and shrugging your shoulders; you didn’t want to go into the details with Niki, you didn’t really wanna burden anyone with the details really.

“I guess this could be a good place for some inspiration, maybe write some new music while im here.”

You didn’t even know yourself if that was true, the inspiration in you had been long sucked dry, when your team started bringing on ghost writers and producers, assuring you that the money was worth the creative integrity.

Deciding that this conversation was doing probably more harm than good to your inner dialogue, you rose from your seat, gathering up the plastic plates and swinging your purse over your shoulder.

“I think i’m gonna go watch the bull riding.”

It definitely was a little bit rude, but the food had been long finished and you knew that there was only so long Niki’s father was going to tolerate him being away from the truck for so long.

“And you.” pointing a finger at him as he stood, placing his hands in his pockets

“Need to get back and keep helping your father out.”

Holding his hands up in a surrendering manner, he only nodded in agreeance with you, the smirk on his face carrying just as much mischief as it always seemed to.

“Okay, okay. I’ll do what i’m told, but only this time.”

Niki returned the gesture of a finger pointed at you as he began to walk backwards, shaking his head as he looked at you.

“I’ll see you round, Pendeja.”

Watching him turn to jog back around the corner to where the food truck was, you could only let out a small huff.

There was definitely an inner turmoil at play within you, that was for certain.

Niki was such a sweetheart, and clearly there was a mutual attraction shared between the two of you, but the petrifying fear of intimacy within you, much less whatever it was exactly that eas starting to bubble between the two of you, seemed to be taking precedence each time a little bit of progress was made.

Even now as you continued your walk towards the bull riding stands, finding a place to sit inbetween all of the other people that lined up to see some cowboys get flung, you were unable to stop the slight frown from cementing itself on your face.

The idea that you could get in the way of yourself that badly was infuriating, but then the idea of jumping straight into another man’s arms so soon after such a messy breakup was just the same.

Hell, the wound was only about four months healed, you still occasionally saw your ex’s face coming up on old mutual friend’s social media, it was nowhere near enough time to just brush something like that aside, right?

When do you know when it’s because you actually want something like that, and not just yourself desperately seeking out the comfort of trading one man out for another?

As the event began, that same familiar rock music blaring out of the speakers just the same as last time, you occupied yourself with watching men getting flung off of thrashing bull’s backs.

Even then, it’s hard to be distracted by self pity when you’ve got something so absolutely entertaining in front of you.

The stupid rodeo clown was even enough to have a laugh leaving your throat.

As fun as it all was to watch, the universe decided that it was particularly enjoying fucking with you tonight, considering that you’d forgotten one big fundamental detail at the bull riding that was currently on.

That detail, that important little smidgen you’d conveniently forgotten?

Rhett Abbott was coming on next.

It was the first time you’d even heard his name since the restaurant, much less seen him in person, having been so distracted by the prospect of meeting up with Niki, you’d completely forgotten about his existence all together. You tried to force yourself not be invested, truly, wanted to continue the air of not caring if he lived or died, considering that was obviously how he felt about you.

Yet when the horn rang out and you immediately heard the sharp clanging of hooves on metal as the gate was swung open, for some reason you just could not look away.

The bull was relentless, seeming to thrash itself in a change of direction as much as possible, determined to get what i considered to be nothing but an annoying flea off of its rump.

As much as you cursed the ground he walked on, hated the way he looked at you with an air of superiority. God, as much as you hated him for starting the nickname tweety bird in highschool.

It would be a lie to say he wasn’t doing a damn good job. You didn’t have to like him or even particularly enjoy his company to see that.

You could literally hear the cheers of the crowd growing wilder the longer he stayed on the bull for, that anticipation of waiting to see whether or not he’d get flung off before his eight seconds were up.

In some weird way, time seemed to be moving in slow motion, yet ultra fast all at the same time, with every millisecond that you didn’t hear the buzzer making your heart rate increase.

As soon as it rang out, like a choir of angels sent from heaven itself, you let out a breath you didn’t even realise you were holding, letting go of your purse handle which was now sporting little moon shaped indents from how hard you were gripping it.

The roar of the crowd around you was palpable, your silence pertaining more to your absolute shock, your mouth hanging open slightly.

As he finally allowed the bull to shake him off, being helped to his feet hastily by a handler as the rest worked at getting the bull back through the gate, you could see his chest rising and falling even from the distance you were at.

Adrenaline was a powerful thing, you knew that better than anybody, as you watched Rhett Abbott begin to bang on his chest like some sort of primal warrior, it was palpable.

His eye’s scanning the crowd hadn’t initially had you off guard, obviously he was enjoying the resounding response to his victory, continuing to bash his fist against his chest.

Even when his eyes landed on you.

As if set off, seeing you in the crowd, knowing you’d witnessed what just occurred, you weren’t sure if it was ego or something else entirely.

But you could have sworn he was smirking.

With a final bang to his chest, your vision might have been tricking you, but had he just nodded at you, a single, sturt nod before he’d turned to jog back to the gate, jumping it as if it was nothing.

You’re head tilted, eyes widening and brows furrowing.

Exactly what the fuck did he mean by that one?

Whether you were meant to be insulted by that, you had absolutely zero clue, the only thing you were certain of is that whatever it was, it was most certainly meant for you.

-

Left thoroughly confused by whatever it was that had just been shared between the two of you, you dispersed with the rest of the crowd when the rodeo was swiftly coming to an end.

Now noting the lights from games that were no longer on, as well as the now dwindling number of people around, the show grounds were suddenly seeming a lot quieter.

You were definitely tired, no doubt about that, hell, it was nearing almost midnight.

As much fun as it had been to go out by yourself for the first time in ages, the task you were now faced with of getting home was already proving itself to be a daunting one.

Exiting into the now nearly empty parking lot, you stood by the entrance and pulled out your phone, tapping the name ‘dad’ in your contact list and putting the phone to your ear.

Soft ringing was all that you could hear, feeling your heart drop a little bit as it continued, all the way up until his voice mail began to play.

Sucking in a sharp and nervous breath, you hung up and dialed his number again, waiting with a nervous breath, reassuring yourself that he’d probably just put his phone down somewhere and that any minute now he’d pick up.

Yet as his voicemail continued once more, you already felt a lump in your throat as panic began to set in.

Trying two more times evidently wasn’t a big help, doing absolutely nothing to remedy yourself.

Pacing back and fourth by the entrance was doing little for you, running your free hand along the seamline of your jeans not helping in the slightest as your heart beat hammered in your own head. As your own thoughts began to get to you more and more, you subsided in your attempts to call your father, nothing the fifteen percent battery life left on your phone, if he tried to call you back, a flat phone would do absolutely no good.

Yet as about ten more minutes passed, no buzzing from your phone, you were now cursing softly to yourself, feeling tears prick in the corner of your eyes as you rummaged around in your purse for some sort of miracle, anything to feel like you were doing something other than just standing there about to cry.

“What the hell are you still doin’ here?”

Initially, you jumped at the sound of a voice behind you, turning to see who it was however, only made you want to sink further and further into your little pity party.

“Fuck off, Rhett. I really don’t need this right now.”

Any attempt to hide the way your voice wobbled was futile, turning your head up to the sky to try and blink your tears out of existence as you let out a shaky exhale.

“Hey, fuck you. I was just checkin’ to see if you were okay. Christ, don’t worry about it.”

His response only made your lip wobble more, your head hanging as you heard him walk past you, the gravel crunching under his boots, growing softer as he walked towards his truck.

Desperation was a powerful thing, top it off with you on the verge of a panic attack wondering how the hell you’re going to get home that doesn’t involve walking and becoming coyote food.

“Rhett, i’m sorry.” you wobbled out, the sound seeming to stop the cowboy in his tracks, duffel bag hanging off his shoulder as he turned to watch you walk towards him.

“Please, I know you fuckin’ hate me and god knows I don’t know why. But I can’t get home, my dad was supposed to pick me up and he’s not answering me.”

Almost as if you could quite literally see him deliberating, he looked across at you, your puffy eyes and wobbling lip seeming to be enough to appeal to his better nature, whatever the beef seemingly shared between the two of you.

“Fuck sake..” he whispered to himself, letting out a huff as he unlocked his truck and opened the driver side door. “Get in.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, you scurried around to the passenger side of his truck, opening the door and moving a few things off of the passenger seat before sitting down and closing the door.

Trying to compose yourself as he got in next to you and shut his own door, you could hardly even focus on how you were now sitting in the truck of a man you apparently hated.

“I can’t take you to your pa’s place.” he started, his tone already laced with annoyance at the predicament he had found himself in and somehow agreed to.

As he spoke, you waited him to finish, already not loving the idea of not being in your own bed tonight, but anything was better than being stranded out here at night.

“It’s the exact opposite of where I live and I’m fucking exhausted.”

You couldn’t blame him in that regard, you were just as tired if not more, feeling as if you could even fall asleep on these seats, as uncomfortable as they were.

“But, I have a pullout couch you can crash on, just don’t make too much fuckin’ noise and i’ll take you home in the morning, gotta head out that way anyway.”

Nodding, you were in no position to say otherwise, and you knew you were already on thin ice anyway, arguing against him could result in him rescinding his offer of transport all together.

“Ok.” you spoke, trying to calm yourself down and relax knowing you were gonna be safe for the night “I’ll be quiet as a mouse, you won’t even know i’m there i promise-”

As you spoke, he sent you what could only be described as a warning look, tired and exhausted eye’s telling you all that you needed to know.

“Starting now.” you finished, buckling you seat belt and keeping your gaze out the window as his truck pulled out of the parking lot.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @foreverchangingmind . @tsukikyo . @marsupialnoises . @iknowrocknroll . @astromilku .

[wikiangela]

wip wednesday

tagged by @theotherbuckley

hello, I need to start posting more snippets again, I have too many wips I need motivation for lol

here's my "8x11 morning after going differently fic" where im giving them the counter make out they deserve lol it uses some of the dialogue until a certain point, but then it's going how it was supposed to idc lol

(lowkey set myself a cut off point in the episode dialogue to change stuff from then on and got stuck but I rememberd I can change stuff at any point actually, who knew lol)

___

"Honestly?" Buck scans Tommy's face, leaning in slightly. He can't help his eyes falling onto his lips, that perfect cupid's bow he needs to taste again. "This was the best night I've had in this place." He smiles, feeling so light and well-rested for once, and so happy. Just, he feels right, sitting here with Tommy so close. "To be fair," Buck adds, "it's also the first night I've had in this place, but, uh, still." He licks his lips, not even hiding he's looking right at Tommy's. Craving another taste.

Buck squeezes his thighs around Tommy's hips, reaches out to wrap his arms around Tommy's neck and bringing him closer. Tommy's not protesting, his smile only growing, hands inching a little further up on Buck's thighs.

"Yeah?" Tommy tilts his head, gaze stopping on Buck's lips.

"Mhm." Buck's eyes flutter as he leans further into Tommy, their noses brushing.

"Wonder why's that." Tommy hums, and Buck laughs, shakes his head slightly, enough to not lean away from Tommy.

"I always sleep better with you next to me." Buck whispers, and hears Tommy's breath hitch before he presses his lips to Tommy's.

___

no pressure tags

@dr-shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @diazpatcher @monsterrae1 @pirrusstuff @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @diazheartsbuckley @giddyupbuck @thewolvesof1998 @underwaterninja13 @your-catfish-friend @gaytommykinard @beyourownanchor6 @weewootruck @kirkaut @quillvice @wildfluorescent @bucked-it-up @drcloyd @girlwonder-writes @dadbodbucky @loullaby @aringofsalt @actuallyitsellie @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @hyperfocusthusly @cornerofspace @tommybuckleys @romanbridgers @evansbuck-ley @champagnetommy and anyone who wants to idk <3

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Ok, Top Form. I've had a bad week. Please be the glorious sexy mess that I hope you are.

I am so happy Smart is back!

He was my favorite actor in Don't Say No, there was something about his charisma that just came right through the screen.

Ah, so Akin is already Very Big.

No, don't stop in the crosswalk, Jin baby... They really don't get how much they've traumatized us already, do they?

Although having him almost be run over by his own team is a new take, I guess!

Smart's hair looks so gooooood. I wanna touch it.

What a first meeting... love the framing. Akin so far above Jin at this point.

Poor little mint.

Oh no, not the rating going down! Be nice, Akin, he's a baby.

Wait, wait, wait...this music is the same they used for the Our Skyy 2 teaser trailer, right? I'm pretty sure, I watched that trailer about 200 times.

Hehe, not the branding shade.

This is being shot in a really interesting way. I like it so far, it feels a lot less static than a lot of shows.

Also, gorgeous setting.

I do feel for actors who are trying to do a proper scene, and getting a "the label's the wrong way" kind of feedback. That's gotta be so frustrating.

Ugh, Aof is the worst. This feels like it was written by someone who's worked with annoying brand owners, lol. Of course, I'm sure they'll still be doing plenty of product placement. Gotta get that bread.

I think Akin just got Jin to imprint on him.

I am also very curious about how Boom and Smart filmed this, and if they were both able to cry on cue.

Also very interesting that Akin kept crying while Jin was acting...

I was wondering about Akin's motivation to help Jin, if he really just wanted to get it all over with and go home, but it does seem like he has a caring side if he's thinking about the crew. I like that.

Ok, you know what, I give Jin a lot of credit too! We've had too many shows where one character overhears a little snippet that can be construed badly, and runs off upset. Jin consciously decides to move past it. Good boy.

Oh, Akin, don't act unaffected. He's too adorable and you know it.

There it is!

Damn, their chemistry. Just a shoulder touch is making me feel things!

So Jin is going to keep that mint box for life, right?

Geez, Jade has a dark view of success. Probably realistic for the industry, but yikes.

Lolol, Jin is too cute. Strong golden retriever energy.

"Where is your focus?"... Um, I think on how much he wants to do you.

Oh poor Jin. But heyyy, our director is finally doing some actual directing! That was some good coaching.

Ahhhhh, the layers! So much deeper meaning to the dialogue!

Also people are 100% going to be shipping their characters in this cop show.

Whoa...wings!

Damn, this is already so erotic.

First episode, and I am sold!

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Happiness - A Joel Miller Drabble

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader Rating: Surprisingly...this is just fluff? Word Count: 404 a/n: I'm traveling this week, but here's a little snippet of happy I wrote last night. :)

You never thought you'd see this side of Joel. The side of him that actually smiles when Ellie tells a joke, or the part that laughs when his brother does something stupid. The Joel that whispers in your ear as you slow dance in the living room to a record he picked up with that exact purpose in mind, or the man that makes you breakfast in bed just because, even if he usually has ulterior motives that include keeping you in said bed.

He's just...happy.

"Hey," you whisper with a kiss to his forehead. He'd been missing at the party for far too long, long enough that you assumed he went home, only to realize that he'd been sitting and enjoying the music for most of the night, parked in a chair that you now stand behind. Your arms wrap over his shoulders as you lean down to nuzzle your nose against his neck, "enjoying the music?"

Joel wraps his hands around yours where they rest on his chest, pulling you as close as he can. "They're not half bad," he admits, which is about the highest compliment anyone other than you can get from him, even now.

"Be better if you were up there," you note with another kiss, this one against the pulse point on his neck, a move that has him sucking in air like it's his dying breath.

"Been a long time since I played for someone else," he grumbles, casually brushing off the idea the same way he always does.

"You play for me."

Joel scoffs. "That's different."

"How so?" you ask, pulling back but only so you can move around to sit in his lap sideways, your arms draped over his shoulders as he wraps his own securely around your waist.

"Because," he begins, leaning in so only you can hear, "you're a captive audience."

The band starts playing again, their music filling the crowded room, but you only really see him. "Not captive. Willing," you correct him.

He laughs, he really laughs, and tightens his grip around you, encouraging you to rest your head against his shoulder as you both listen to the next song. It's simple, the life you've found with him in Jackson, and it's certainly something you never expected to find again. Moments like this, settled into his warm embrace, remind you that you have. You've found happiness.

And so has he.

[tellmegoodbye]

Hello everyone! I wanted to do a bit of a "WIP checkup" in which I share a snippet from all of my wips and update you on how they're going.

This is a queued post. I am currently away on vacation and I will look at all of your posts when I get back!

---

Sports Fic

Title: "the memories we leave behind"

“What are they doing?” Jonah can hardly contain his excitement as he grips the seatback in front of him, giggling as he points down towards the skaters on the ice. They look so small from where they're sitting up in the nosebleeds, but the distance doesn't seem to matter to Jonah, who is seemingly entranced by the game he barely knows anything about. There's a huge smile on his face as he watches every face off, every line change, every shot, clearly trying to decipher everything that's happening. “They're trying to get the puck in the net,” TK explains, pointing to where the New York Rangers are currently swarming the Dallas Stars like bees, their offense fluid and fast paced – as is the nature of the game. “We're rooting against the green team. Remember?”

This fic is a bit on and off again at the moment, but I'm still enjoying writing it! I have no prediction for when it might be finished as it is not a priority at the moment. This snippet is brought to you by a new scene I added, inspired by this headcanon.

Spicy Fic

"Do you want me to take care of you now, my love?" Carlos’ voice drips with adoration, smooth as he speaks slowly, carefully, and commandingly. There's a hint of teasing in his tone that he keeps a tight hold on, always waiting for TK to guide him and tell him what he needs. They don't always do this with the pretense of sex, and tonight certainly wasn't a night where TK was having anything that would even resemble a horny thought, but he feels so light inside of his own body. His blood flows through his veins like honey, desire simmering beneath the surface, but not with purpose. There's no ache. No rush. No need. But TK thinks about these ropes coming off before he can fully silence the darkness, he hears the way Carlos' voice dips and feels the way his body reacts on instinct, and he decides that it doesn't matter. He doesn't just want to hide away in freefall. He wants to float. He wants to feel everything that is good and right and wonderful, and Carlos is clearly willing to help him do that.

This fic still has an incredibly loose outline, but it is my first venture into writing a D/S dynamic and I'm just kind of going with the flow for this one. I hope to finish this one soon, especially since @heartstringsduet has been my biggest cheerleader for this fic and has been giving me endless motivation!

Detective AU / Murder Mystery Fic

The bullpen is smaller than he's used to. The absence of the New York City chaos cycling in and out of the room is evident. The ever-present, steady stream of chaos keeping the building alive on an unstable fuel is muted and mellow in comparison, reflecting the nature of the state of Texas. Slower, calmer – even in its capital city. TK thinks he might just like it here after all.

This one is regrettably, extremely slow moving. I've been putting a lot of pressure on myself for this one because it's an idea I've had for years, and I want to take my time with this. It's definitely overwhelming, and there's no chance of me finishing this in any less than a few months, but I think it will all be worth it in the end!

Super Secret Angsty Fic

Title: "sinking in slow motion"

He attempts to look again, and a sharp pain pierces through his skull like a sleek blade, barely noticeable until it hits him all at once and he has to let his head fall back against the concrete again, wincing at the sudden movement.

It’s no use. He isn’t going to be able to treat himself down here. He runs through the checklist in his head, skipping over what he can’t do and focusing on what he can.

Keep pressure on the wound. Check. Slow down your breathing. Check. Check your heart rate. TK lifts two trembling fingers to the pulse point on his neck, undoubtedly smearing some of his own blood against his skin as he presses down.

Fast, but steady. Check.

This fic is brought to you by The Angst Train, aka the collaboration I'm doing with @certifiedflower and @neversleepuntilfive 👀 who I have immensely enjoyed working with. I'm so excited to finish this and share it with you all for @911lonestarangstweek at the end of the month!

Therapy Fic

“Hey, babe,” TK greets him, his voice faltering when he catches a glimpse of the laptop Carlos so ungraciously tossed to the side when he walked through the door. “What are you reading?” “Nothing,” Carlos says, immediately realizing how unconvincing he sounds. He avoids TK's knowing gaze as he stares towards the ground. TK slowly comes towards him and sits next to him on the couch, close enough to be there, but putting enough distance between them so that Carlos can decide whether or not he wants to have TK in his space right now. “Well that wasn't suspicious at all.”

I admittedly have not worked on this one in a while. I can't even remember if I've shared this snippet before. I don't think I have, but if I did I apologize. I'll get back to this one once I get some of these other wips finished.

S1 Carlos Fic

Images of the man who laid in his bed for the first time, his silver medallion stark against his heaving chest – a symbol of his family from before, begin circling Carlos’ mind as he slowly digests the gravity of such a revelation. He isn't as close with his own father as TK is with Owen, but he couldn't even imagine the pit in his stomach that would open up if he were to learn that his dad had cancer. “I'm sorry, TK,” is all he can think to say. He knows it can't help much, but he hopes it's enough. He hopes he can offer some sense of peace for someone who's gaze he can't seem to escape, his eyes brimming with tears that threaten to fall, Carlos’ dim porch light reflecting off of shimmering green oceans. TK looks about as lost as Carlos feels, his weary figure standing against the backdrop of the night sky and empty streets. His vulnerability is vast, and Carlos aches to protect it.

This fic is also low priority, and since it is essentially a collection of moments throughout season 1, this one is probably going to take me a while to write.

Tagging: @strandnreyes @paperstorm @bonheur-cafe @lemonlyman-dotcom @carlos-in-glasses @ironheartwriter @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @literateowl @eclectic-sassycoweyes @captain-gillian @thisbuildinghasfeelings @alrightbuckaroo @theghostofashton @freneticfloetry @everlastingday @carlos-tk @henrygrass @carlossreaders @rangersoup @futures-tense @heartstringsduet @goodways @whatsintheboxmh @lightningboltreader @welcometololaland @liminalmemories21 @reyesstrand @butchreyes @firstprince-history-huh + open tag

[fuck-customers]

oh my god one of my managers is awful. she’s still pretty new in the position and didn’t get a lot of training so i try very hard to be understanding and forgiving, but it’s getting to the point where i want to send her home every day. for context i am like. half a step above her in the management hierarchy— not quite her boss, but she isn’t on my level yet.

she doesn’t manage. at all. if we have red tickets she’ll say “come on guys let’s get out of red!” and then do nothing else. at all. just half-ass motivational snippets. that does NOTHING. she’ll watch someone do something wrong, watch someone do something that costs us seconds, and just says something non specific about doing better. my bosses and i and presumably other managers on my level have all tried to coach her through it. i had a big conversation w her last time we closed about how just saying “let’s get out of red” doesn’t accomplish anything, and how she needs to be actionable and call out things that are going wrong and how to fix them. she has to coach. and she doesn’t. and she seemed receptive, but she’s made zero changes since then!

and if she DOES try to manage!! if she does try to move crew people around to accomplish a task!! it’s always in the worst possible way!! she sends our kitchen people off to do cleaning tasks while there’s red tickets. she sends our service crew off to stock while there’s orders that need to be taken. and if she covers any of those people herself, she does a mediocre job and refuses to pull them back into position, and gets mad at me if i make those changes for her. same as w coaching, ill have a conversation w her about it, but this time she gets defensive and angry. she says i have to let her make the mistakes, which is fine, but also she has to recognize those mistakes and make efforts to fix it next time, and she doesn’t!!!!

oh also she calls in all the time AFTER her shift was supposed to start! she’s chronically ill which i understand, but some sort of heads up would be great. one time i called her two hours after her shift started and she said she’d been at the hospital all day. yeah take the day off 100% get yourself feeling better— but she couldn’t have texted somebody at some point??? she said she’d been in the waiting room for an hour that morning, use that time to text somebody!!! for the love of god!!!! you’re a manager!! it’s not easy to find coverage for you or make plans around your absence!!!

i LOVED her when she was a crew person. now she’s in management i hate her.

Posted by admin Rodney

[felassan]

Some more snippets from recent articles, under a cut for length (source links included under cut):

1.

David Gaider: ""Here's the hope: [Baldur's Gate 3's success] shows any company with an IP like Dragon Age or a good RPG IP in their basket what's possible when you double down on committing to the genre and not approaching it with the idea that RPGs, on their own, are just this niche thing," he says. "You don't need to go 'oh we need the action audience, we need to increase the mass appeal' – what, because RPGs are niche and nerdy and will never achieve mass success? No. If you double down on what that genre does well, people will [play it] – it's the Field of Dreams method of game development, I guess." "But while that sounds like something they should learn, I don't think many publishers learn lessons like that. My fear is that what they start asking developers under their wing is 'we want results like Baldur's Gate 3,' and the developer will say 'okay, well I need X and Y amount of resources,' and they'll say 'can you not get the same results with half of the resources you need?'" Of course, the developer is probably going to say 'yes, of course we can,' but the answer is no, that's not how it works." [...] "It's a troublesome thing," Gaider says. "It's so easy for companies to take the wrong lessons: the idea that romances should become rote, that, if you've got a character, it's like 'let's tack on a romance' that's just some extra lines of dialog and maybe a cutscene, then that's what players want. It's not really pushing the envelope – it's not pushing the medium forward. If we get to a point where romances are seen as just a staple you add in, I think that would lead to backlash where people could rightly say, 'look, this whole romance thing just feels very heartless and like a check on a list of features." "I would hate for people to look at the example of Baldur's Gate 3 and think that they can pick and choose what parts they can replicate or that it ends up being a laundry list of features, as opposed to a directive of its development.""

[source]

2.

"when asked about it in a recent interview with GamesRadar+, [David Gaider] said there's a "sharp divide in the player base" between people who want to freely romance everyone in the cast [of characters in a game] and players who want to be realistically rejected. "This is one situation where you can't do it both ways," Gaider told us. "Yeah, it's got to be one or one or the other. And those players who are on either side of this argument are never going to be okay with what's going on, like, on the other side." [...] [the DA2-style approach to companion romances is] something BioWare tried out in Dragon Age 2 and quickly abandoned by the time Dragon Age: Inquisition rolled around. "That was my doing and my preference," Gaider said, "because I think it takes away an element of agency from the character, and, I mean, there are players who absolutely prefer [that approach] and it's totally justified." "But I think you do some get something in return for that, because [then] it feels like every romance is always on the table. It means you have to craft a story for this character where romance is a possibility. And that limits the different types of stories you can do. They always have to be somebody who ultimately could romance the player. And so that is quite limiting." "I wanted characters who had their own motivations [and] maybe I had to earn their friendship," he said. "Maybe there's a different path... where they could distrust me, or we could have rivalries. They could have their own motivations that didn't align with my own... And I like the idea of characters with agency, where romance is a possibility, maybe, or maybe they have their own relationships.""

[source]

3.

"I reminisce with Gaider about Troika's chaotic RPG, and he tells me that it inspired Bioware's approach to slow, non-combat-focused storytelling. [...] "One thing that Bloodlines did that I was like 'I really want someone to do this,' was that there's a whole plot that takes place in a haunted hotel [Ocean House] where, unlike the rest of the game, there's no actual combat, but it's tense from beginning to end. I remember at the time that it's all anybody on the Bioware team could talk about." "For a while, it actually enabled me to have some ammunition," he laughs. "Whenever the level designers would be like 'we have to sprinkle some popcorn fights everywhere because players get bored,' I was like 'no, they don't! That doesn't need to be a thing!" "I remember when we were working on Dragon Age: Inquisition and I wanted to have the part where you go to Val Royeaux and you're at the masquerade ball [not have] any combat, and I just couldn't convince everybody. So you kept having to duck out of the masquerade, go have a fight, then come back into it. Players need to be kept interested, absolutely. Players need to feel like the things they're doing are having an effect. But I think it's always underestimated that part of that can be story – politics can keep people interested. What the player doesn't need to do is just fight, even if it's an RPG.""

[source]

[inhuman-obey-me]

Waltz at the Phoenix Hotel

Word Count: 4,075 Description: Spy!AU: You're attending a rather luxurious party, the scene for your agency's latest mission: an interception case. Things seem to be going smoothly...until they aren't, thanks to two strangers who ruin your plans and turn everything upside-down. Characters: MC, Lucifer, Mammon, Satan, Asmodeus, Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, Simeon Note: This is rather different for this blog. I (Mod Cosmos) started this fic nearly four years ago, when the Spy event came out on OG. I abandoned it shortly after, but Mod Chaos kept bugging me every now and then about finishing the fic because they just really wanted to read it for some reason. So, after all this time, I got some motivation and went back and finished it. Sorry if there seems to be a writing shift at one point -- didn't really go back and edit much in what I had written before. But I did change the random woman to Thirteen for fun, so hope you enjoy her little cameo. Can be found on Ao3 here.

You’re standing on the grand stone staircase leading to the expansive pool at the Phoenix Hotel, champagne glass in hand as you observe the crowd. The agency had received valuable intel that there was going to be an exchange tonight, one that would put an important amount of data in the wrong person’s hands. Tasked with intercepting the drop, you found yourself at a fancy cocktail party, rubbing elbows with some of the city’s most notable socialites. You have your eyes out for the target — you had a pretty good description — when you get a signal in your earpiece. 

“Black Sheep. How are things looking over there?” It was Lucifer, who was currently doing a perimeter check with Mammon. 

“Not much to report here, boss.” You took a sip of your champagne, hiding your lips so that no one noticed you speaking to thin air. “How about you?” 

“We’re finishing up. We’ll be back in the main party soon to help keep an eye out.”

“Keep us posted!” Mammon’s voice suddenly comes in, and you can hear a bit of a sigh from Lucifer’s end. “And make sure to watch out for any shady characters. Some of these guys can be real damn obvious.” 

“Some shady guys might look shady, huh? Thanks for the advice.” There’s no hiding the sarcasm in your voice, which earns a huff from the crowing agent. 

You sign off, taking a moment to admire the way the light reflects off of the surface of the pool, a web of light then bouncing off the surrounding marble statues. There are a good number of people out here, but there also wasn’t a clear and quick exit route. It might not be the most strategic place for a drop to take place, but you never knew what tricks your targets could pull. 

Deciding it might be best to check out the main party hall, you head back inside, giving a smile to the waitress who takes your now empty champagne glass from your hand. You give a few more smiles and nods of acknowledgment to those you pass by — wait, is that the actor from The Twilight of a Great Family? — no, stay focused. 

Grand chandeliers float above the floor where the crux of the party is, a great many more people than outside mingling and drinking the night away. You catch sight of Asmodeus and Satan, who are both working the crowd. You pass close by to hear snippets of their conversations — they’re both excellent liars, but as Asmodeus had said, Lies are like accessories, hun!, and you have to keep yourself from smiling as you hear their fibs. You catch Satan’s eye, who gives you a wink before returning to his conversation.

“To your left, Black Sheep.” You look in the aforementioned direction to see Mammon saunter in, Lucifer a few feet away. “We’ve got eyes over here.”

“And we’re covering the right wing.” It still felt odd hearing Barbatos’ voice through the ear piece. After the whole incident with the property purchase, no one expected that both he and Diavolo would now be part of their agency. They were good at what they did, there was no doubt about that, but countless missions later you still couldn’t get completely used to it. 

“Got it, I —” Suddenly, you notice a woman with long, colorful hair and piercing green eyes. She fits the description of the one who would be performing the drop tonight. “Alert. Target spotted.” 

“Where?” Lucifer inquires.

“Hard to miss. She stands out a bit for a covert drop. She’s near the bar, busy talking with others. She seems to be paying a bit of extra attention to her clutch.” You start making your way to the bar, figuring it provided a good vantage point to keep an eye on her while not drawing suspicion. “I’ll stay close.” 

“Be careful. We’ll be here to see if any of the mentioned accomplices are around.”

You go to hover at the bar, though ask if you can just get some sparkling water with lemon. As tempting as a drink would be right now, you had a mission, and the last thing you needed was to mess up because you thought to get boozy. 

“Excuse me, can I get the house whiskey, neat?” You turn to see a young handsome gentleman right by your side, silver wintry locks framing his face. He turns slightly to you with a charming smile, one that reaches his eyes, an interesting mix of brown and blue — but you know not to ever let your guard down. “Why, hello. Enjoying the party?”

“Yes, it’s been a marvelous evening so far.” You give him a polite smile. If you strike up a conversation with him, you can keep an eye on your target without appearing suspicious or obvious. “And how about yourself?”

“I could say the same, though I do wonder,” He nods his head in the direction of the pool. “How smart of an idea it is to have a bar by the pool with all these people in their fancy dress. Imagine someone just falling right in. Terrible.” Despite his words, he has a grin on his face. 

You let out a soft laugh before taking another sip of your beverage, glancing in the direction of the woman you were tailing. She was still busy in conversation with a small crowd, though you caught her looking towards one of the bartenders. Is that who she’s going to give the data to…?

“Why do I get the feeling like you’re suggesting pushing someone in?” You respond, turning slightly to lean against the bar. 

“Me? Never!” The man laughed, his eyes seeming to sparkle. He gave the bartender a ‘Thank you!’ as he received his drink. Taking a small sip, he continued to converse with you. “Are you here with anyone else?”

“Oh, a few friends.” You make a vague motion to the rest of the crowd. “They’re all mingling out there. How about yourself?” 

“I came here with one other friend, but I lost sight of him … he’s probably in the middle of one of these groups.” He waves his hand dismissively after taking a glance around, lifting his glass up for another sip. “Hopefully I’m not bothering you?”

“Oh, no, not at all.” You smile your loveliest of smiles, hoping to continue conversing with him as a cover. Your target was inching her way closer to the bar, and you counted yourself lucky that this was going so smoothly so far.  “So, tell me about the symbols on that ring…” 

Ugh, these people are a bore, Asmodeus thinks to himself as he shifts into yet another conversation. No one he had talked to had been particularly interesting, and even less so informative. That was the nature of their work, in the end — not every situation would actually be helpful. The few he was talking to currently were droning on and on and — Oh? Suddenly, Asmodeus catches sight of a rather beautiful stranger. That perks him right up, and so he excuses himself from the monotonous individuals and made his way over to the other.

“Hello there, handsome.” Asmodeus flashes his most charming smile, long lashes fluttering. “How are you doing this fine evening?” 

“Oh, you flatter me.” The attractive stranger smiles warmly, a tinge of red appearing on his dark skin as he brushes aside a strand of soft, brown hair. “And I’m doing quite well, thank you. Yourself?” 

“Much better now that I have some wonderful company.” Asmo raises his champagne glass, one that he had hardly taken a sip of the entire time he held it this evening. “The name’s Ayden. What’s yours?”

“Scorpion, make sure you’re staying on task.” Lucifer’s warning voice came through his earpiece. The flirtatious agent makes a signal behind his back, communicating “Don’t worry, this is work!”

“You can call me Henry.” He raised his glass to meet the other’s. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but there are far more people here than I thought there would be.” His brilliant cerulean eyes glance around the hall before returning to Asmodeus, his gaze soft. “Apologies if I come across as a bit nervous. I moved here recently, so a friend insisted I tag along. Though, not sure where he’s gone off to now … ” 

“Ah, don’t worry about a thing, my dear Henry! I’m sure you’ll find your friend. But until then, I’ll keep you company. So, tell me, what brought you to the city .. ?” Asmodeus began his series of questions to get people to open up, to perhaps give something away, let just the tiniest detail slip that might give him something that he wants … flirting was just a bonus. 

As they converse, Satan hovers close by. He also hadn’t much luck with those he had been speaking to, none of them potential suspects for accomplices. Just rich and well-known folks running in the upper circles of society. Not to say that the conversations still couldn’t be interesting — there was always plenty to learn — but it was getting frustrating that they were having so little luck finding the people they wanted. At least Black Sheep has the main target, he muses, looking over to the bar to see them conversing with a stranger. The target was still nearby, arguably even closer to them then she had been before. 

“Apologies for the intrusion,” Satan walks over to his fellow agent and the stranger, earning a quick glare from Asmodeus. “But I just have to ask, where did you get that lovely white vest?” And just like that, Satan eases himself into the conversation, all the while continuing to observe the target from afar. 

Henry smiles at them both, continuing to engage in conversation quite happily, fingers seemingly idly fiddling with a ring on his right hand. 

“Fascinating. I really do wonder if you’re just trying to pull my leg here.” You’ve been deep in  conversation with this man for a bit now — Sal, he said his name was — and you had to admit he was certainly entertaining company. 

“Well, it’s up to you if you believe me or not.” He shrugs with a bit of a mischievous grin. 

“Black Sheep, looks like she’s getting ready to make the drop.” You hear Diavolo’s voice through your earpiece — he must have been watching from his current station. Sure enough, your target has removed a small silver case from her clutch as she leans against the bar a bit a ways from where you currently are — and the bartender is walking towards her. 

“Ah, apologies, I see one of my friends over there,” You push yourself away from the bar counter, taking a step towards the woman — though you make sure to take your still half-full glass of sparkling water with you. “It was very nice to meet you, Sal. Perhaps I’ll see you around later?” 

“Oh, of course. It was a pleasure to meet you as well.” He smiles, but there almost seems to be something off about it. You don’t have time to dwell on that, you remind yourself, and quickly make your way to the target, who looks like she’s about to order a drink. She’s covered the small case with a black bar napkin. Perfect.

You pretend to trip, purposefully letting your beverage spill all over the woman’s dress, eliciting a shocked gasp.

“Oh no! Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!” You immediately apologize, hand going to grab the napkins from their place on the bar, swiftly collecting the one that hid the data as well.

The woman is obviously irritated, but tries to brush it off. “Mm. Accidents happen.”

“Thankfully it was just water, so it should dry up without any damage!” You reassure her, passing the ordinary napkins to her hand so that she could dab at the spill, all the while tucking your prize into your sleeve. A few more apologies and exchanges later, you make your exit, ready to declare mission success and get yourself out of here before the woman realized she was missing something very important.

At least, that was your plan. 

You’re about to radio in your triumph when a series of actions happens so quickly you don’t have time to react. Something (or rather, someone) causes you to actually trip this time, but you’re saved from an unsightly fall by fingers that gently but firmly wrap around your wrist and an arm around your waist. Before you can even begin to turn around to thank your savior, you hear a familiar voice in your ear,

“Sorry about this.”

A response can’t even leave your lips as you’re suddenly twirled away as if you were dancing the waltz, only to be found without a partner when you come back full circle. You can feel dread beginning to bubble up in the pit of your stomach, and you check to see if you have the small drive, patting yourself down.

It’s gone. Shit.

Your eyes dart around to find the culprit, and you manage to catch a glimpse of those silver locks disappearing into the crowd. 

“Uh, we’ve got a problem.” You run after him while alerting the rest of the agency. “Looks like someone else was after the data too. Tall guy, silver hair, navy blue suit with a lighter blue shirt. He’s running towards the West exit.”

You’re only met with static. 

“Hello? Can anyone hear me?”

The white noise continues. 

This couldn’t be happening … was something jamming their communicators?! 

You’ve lost sight of Sal — If that’s even his real name! — so you look around for any other familiar faces. Surely the others noticed by now that they couldn’t communicate with each other..?

“Hey!” Diavolo’s suddenly at your side. “Thank goodness I was keeping watch nearby — I can’t get through to anyone, but several of them had eyes on you, so they should be going after the guy.” 

Sure enough, you catch Lucifer and Mammon running out the West doors. Both you and Diavolo follow suit, trying not to raise too much of a commotion as you weave through the crowd. The cool night air is welcome as you’re feeling a bit too warm from running as your heartbeat races. A security guard tries to get in your way, but you both dash past him, calling out a “Sorry!” behind you as you continue your chase.

Moments Before ...

“Sorry, gentlemen, but looks like my friend is calling.” Henry gives the other two an apologetic smile. “It was lovely to meet you both. Perhaps we’ll meet again soon.” 

“It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Satan starts.

“—And I’d love to see you again. Give me a call when you get the chance?" Asmo finishes, slipping a card into Henry's hand. "Bye-bye, now!” He gives the departing gentleman a wink and wave before turning to his fellow agent with a sigh. “Well, he was an interesting fellow. Think he might be of interest in the future?” 

“He certainly seemed sharp,” Satan hums. “But also hard to read …” The blond shakes his head, taking the last sip of his drink. "Think our sheep's got the drop yet? Haven't heard an update…" He takes a moment to look around the party, and it dawns on him that he can't hear or see any of the others. "I think we have a problem."

"Hm?" Asmodeus slams the compact mirror in his hand shut, eyes narrowing as he notices a sudden commotion by the West entrance. "Well, I think we've got a bit of fun on our hands."

Static comes over the communicators, a distorted voice coming through: Tchhh…upstairs…tchhh…roof…tchhh

"Fun isn't the word I'd use." Satan huffed. "Let's go."

You're thankful that Barbatos memorized the layout of the hotel and its surroundings before the mission, as he managed to get ahead of the thief and block him from going any further on this quieter side of the promenade. Lucifer and Mammon flank him from the other side, effectively backing him against the wall.

"Really thought you could get past all of us?" Mammon mocks, confidently putting out a hand, fingers waving in a 'gimme' motion. "Hand it over, pal."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about—"

"Oh, save it!" You catch up, slightly out of breath with Diavolo on your heels. "You know exactly what he means. You stole something from me, so hand it over."

"Stole?" That damned mischievous smile again. "Weren't you doing the same thing? Not sure any of you have more right to it than I do."

"That may be true." Chills run down your spine as Barbatos speaks. "But it would be in your best interest to comply and give us what we're asking for, before things take a rather nasty turn."

"HEY!" A couple of burly hotel security personal charge towards you. "What's going on?!"

"Well, have fun with that!" Taking advantage of the distraction, Sal managed to hoist himself up to the fire escape that was hanging above, scampering up a ladder before diving through an open window that's promptly shut behind him. He's not alone!

"Sorry, officers. We'll be out of your hair in a moment!" Diavolo steps forward to distract the guards, signaling for the rest to pursue. "It's just a bit of a personal issue. I'll be happy to explain everything…"

"Door to the right, should go into the service stairwell." Barbatos taps a hacked keycard and unlocks the door, yanking it wide open. "I'll stay here in case they come back down, you all better hurry."

"Don't have to tell us twice," you sprint up the stairs, Mammon ahead and Lucifer behind.

"They're escapin' by going up? This place has 9 floors, right?" Mammon asks, and you think back to what you remember of the hotel blueprint.

"Crap." Realization dawns on you, your heart pounding as loud as your steps hitting the concrete stairs. "There's a private helipad on the roof. Think they got an escape helicopter?"

"Let's assume they do." Lucifer replies, but your upward ascent is shortly interrupted by a loud scream on floor seven. The door swings open, a housekeeper stumbling into the stairwell, her eyes widening as she sees all of you.

"Sorry ma'am!" A familiar voice from the hallway, and you whip around the landing and housekeeper to dart into the corridor, jumping over an overturned housekeeping cart to see that Satan and Asmodeus have cornered Sal — and another. His accomplice.

"And I thought we had something special, Henry! Or whatever your name is!" Asmodeus pouts, stun gun in hand and pointed firmly at the beautiful stranger. Satan had his aimed at the one more familiar to you. "Now, how about you hand it over and we can forget all about this, hm?"

"I'm afraid that's not possible." Henry responds with a soft yet dazzling smile.

"You're outnumbered, five to two." Lucifer steps forward, his expression stern. "You don't have much of a choice."

"Now, now," Sal responds, putting his hands up as if to surrender. "I think we might actually all be on the same side here. We're both trying to make sure this data doesn't get in the wrong hands, right?"

"You could very well be the wrong hands." Satan snarls. "You don't exactly inspire confidence."

"Ouch!" Sal chuckles, shaking his head. "Look, we've actually heard about you guys. One of the best agencies around. We didn't realize you'd also be here when we picked up this intelligence. A fault on our contact's part."

"We do, however, have good reason to believe that this data is essential to a very important case." Henry shifts in place, and you notice his thumb brushing against a ring on is middle finger. "Which is why we're reluctant to give it up. If we can come to an agreement…"

"Not a chance!" Mammon huffs, his hand going to his own stun gun. "We've got no reason to trust you two."

"Hmph." Lucifer shoots a look to Mammon. "Hand it over to us first, and then we can see about any agreements."

"And what if you just take it for yourselves?" Sal shakes his head, a hand going into his inner suit pocket. "We'll need something a bit more concrete than that."

Ding. The sound of an arriving elevator sets a flurry into motion.

"Oh no you don't!" Asmodeus snaps as the two start moving, his finger hitting the trigger on his weapon — only for nothing to happen, and you feel the hair on your neck rise. "What the…?"

A loud hiss hits your ear next and you recognize the sound of a smoke bomb going off, your vision clouded. Coughing as you try to get a handle on your surroundings, you make out two shadows sprinting through the hallway.

"Fuck, they hit us with an EMP! No wonder our guns didn't work." You hear Satan behind you as you lunge towards the elevator lobby, cursing as you slam right into the doors as they shut.

"Damn it. Everyone, to the stairs!"

"Wait," Lucifer is beside you now. "They're not going up — they're going down."

"Down…wait, the parking garage!"

"You lot go upstairs just in case," Lucifer commands of Mammon, Satan, and Asmodeus as you all reach the stairwell. "We'll go down and try to get a hold of the other two."

Hands gripping the railing, you and Lucifer both leap down the stairs, nearly free-falling at times as you skip over landings — one moment your foot touches the floor, the next you're in the air again as you make another leap.

"Dragon. Butler. Can you two hear us? They're escaping through the parking garage!" You frantically speak, hoping the communicators are working again.

"Tchhh…can't…zhhhh…in pursuit."

The garbled message means something got through, and you can only hope that Diavolo and Barbatos got the gist of your message.

Bursting through the doors of the parking garage, you hear a motor revving along with a chorus of yells. You exchange a look with Lucifer and both dash towards the furor, only to hear a loud crash in a matter of seconds.

"We've got them!" Diavolo shouts the moment he sees you and Lucifer, his hand on the car's driver-side handle, ready to rip the door open.

But when he does, there's no one inside.

"What—" Diavolo's jaw hangs open, with Barbatos glowering beside him.

A screech of tires, and you all turn to see a motorbike peel out on the far other side of the garage. The shock leaves your bodies as you all race to the other exit, only to see that the two intruders were long gone.

"How many escape plans did they come up with?!" Adrenaline still pumping through your veins, you kick a concrete pillar in frustration.

"You lost them?!" Satan's voice echoes through the structure, the others having now come to join the rest of the agents left bewildered by the night's events.

"Those two…they're good." Asmodeus whistles, bristling as several others shoot him a glare. "What? They are! They managed to get away from us, all seven of us!"

"We need to find out who they are." Barbatos sighs. "Perhaps Leviathan can help track them down if we can collect any footage."

"I think we'll be needin' to make our escape first." Mammon glances over his shoulder. "Somethin' tells me the hotel staff and security aren't gonna be too happy with us causing such a ruckus."

"Right, let's get out of here and regroup." Lucifer massages his temple. "We've got a lot of work ahead of us."

Defeated, you all scamper to your own getaway vehicles, the faint sound of approaching police sirens putting an extra pep to your step and a rev to the engines.

As you settle into your seat, you take stock of what you still had on you. Your stun gun, your communicator, a few other covert tools, and — wait, what's this?

A business card tucked into your belt, thick and smooth to the touch. Through the passing streetlights, you can see there's a single word in the center, embossed in blue and gold:

PURGATORY

Flipping it over, there's a string of digits, with a handwritten note underneath:

Call me. ;)

You scoff in disbelief.

"What've you got there, hun?" Asmodeus looks up from his phone, glancing at your hand.

"Oh," you calmly pocket the card again. "…It's nothing."

[starrstruck-xx]

why kairi might be the one who manipulated sora's memory

yes you read that right, and no i did not mis-type this (if you're thinking hey that should be namine!)

i was going back a few times to kh3 and i found many patterns and cutscenes in 3 that can be compared to previous installments of the game, even side by side, this one particularly caught my eye:

crazy am i right

so remember that scene in 3 where sora falsely exclaimed "the light in the darkness" to be kairi? (it's actually riku) where sora and kairi goes enters the light to made it back to the real world

previous clip in link because tumblr isn't working with me ("riku, answer me!!" comparison with "okay! i have to protect them (aitsu)! Namine can you hear me?")

as you've seen in the comparison i realized it probably a direct paralell to namine's fake meteor shower scene back in COM Sora's side. And these lines of dialogue in particular interest me

it got me thinking, and i think that kairi purposely did something to sora's memory at some point in their lives. The exact when i'm not too sure, but she had inserted herself into some of riku's part in sora's life as sora's taisetsu na hito (special someone)

i know this sounds crazy, but i think there's a valid reason to this theory

Why??

the motive is clear: that kairi is lonely. i personally relate to her character struggle, loneliness can be suffocating, just like how namine portrayed hers that resulted to the events in COM

kairi's main theme has always been about 'seperation' and being left behind by sora and riku. so it would make sense for her to crave attention

kairi might feel sad that sora and riku doesn't pay attention to her unlike how they pay attention to each-other, so i don't see it as off character for her to insert herself into a fake picture if she had the chance, especially as the love interest of her crush

she even said this back in KH1 which sora responded with "Huh!? What's gotten into you?"

or is it done out of malicious intentions? there might be a possibility for that, but i don't think it is as it goes against kingdom hearts thematic story that stays consistent over the years, that portrays every character struggle in a sympathetic way that honestly you can relate too

(xehanort is even a subject to this in dark road)

i think that kairi felt really guilty about it and didn't realized the impact that she had done to sora and riku's relationship. or maybe she thrived for it, because even if the affection is not real, kairi is still loved and remembered by someone as their precious person, and it feels nice especially with someone like sora

snippet from kh3 novel

in the novels, there's a strong hint that kairi cut her hair because riku cut his, which contributes a lot to the theory of kairi wanting to be sora's precious person (riku) where she somewhat mimics his behavior (she probably realized deep down sora cares more about riku than her)

Passing Memories

i think this also made sense lore wise, because why else would sora suddenly lost his memory of riku? and i don't think sora's sort-of infatuation with kairi is caused by comphet alone

forgotten promises is a recurring theme in sora and riku's relationship, everything up to this point has always leads to hidden thoughts and burried memories, you have to dig deeper if you want to find a connection between sora and riku, the examples currently are:

whatever is happening between soriku

passing memories jp name of oblivion keyblade that is owned by roxas

riku is the TRUE light

necklace theory: the fact that THE necklace is everywhere in the game but is never brought up like ever

aitsu (check full discussion on the internet)

COM the game (just everything related to COM, the only game with riku and sora beside DDD? it's sus if you ask me)

compared to sora and kairi who's relationship always seems shallow and on the surface. i think it made more sense with the 'why' factor answered, because every time sora is thinking of riku, kairi would replace herself in his position, just like the light-tunnel scene in kh3

the 'oathkeeper' (promise charm) and 'oblivion' (passing memories) also reflected sora keeping his promise to kairi, but forgetting about his to riku, riku might not be affected in the same way that sora does, so this happens:

+ the multiple and many instances, riku is straight up covered by kairi

some of those instances:

kairi is true darkness (ex: sea is metaphor for darkness)

xion (is said to be kairi but proven also to also be riku)

the final world

Power?

honestly, i think kairi is more than she lets on (like LUXU), let's talk about her nobody:

i think it's already suspicious that namine has the power to mess with sora's memories (because she's from kairi's body and sora's heart?) when existing nobodies like roxas and xion for example has powers directly tied to their somebodies (kingdom key), xehanort doing xehanort things, marluxia possessing the same rose petals as his somebody counterpart, (and a lot more...)

so, with a game like kingdom hearts, does namine's powers really came out of no where? we know that sora doesn't have the ability to manipulate people's memories, so who else could it be?? kairi's powers might even be more powerful

this would also aligns with the theory 'riku is light-kairi is darkness' because even at front value the game is telling you 'hey kairi is LIGHT and riku is DARKNESS' time and time again its always the reverse in certain situations, but you never got to wonder what it actually mean

yes riku is the light, but why is kairi the darkness?? yes she sort-of brings demise as xehanort's pawn, but is it really just that?

lastly, kairi is a princess of heart, and might even came from the lost masters era as it is decorated and spammed with stars (every symbol is replaced by stars i'm not joking)

it's very on-theme with the 'traitor' plot point that has been consistent in every khux game, so... (i have a theory that kairi is master ava, or master ava is her grandma, OR kairi is mom... or skuld)

in addition to all of this, i also think that kairi can also be a creature, maybe she's actually a chirithy:

however i do think as opposed to riku as a dreameater (spirit), kairi is a nightmare chirithy, as seen in their color pallet (might be a coincidence but who knows)

[manasurge]

I just wanted to do a bunch of snippets of Mourynn and Wynne during the time when Wynne volunteered to be her Caretaker after she awakened (this was orignally meant to just be lineart, but it is easy to mistaken Wynne for Caithe here, so I added the flatcolour version to remedy that)

I figured I may as well include some lore stuff under the cut (mostly Wynne related stuff, but other Firstborn era stuff from around this time as well. Sorry that this is so long lskjdflk):

(Sorry this is all in point form, it’s just easier for me to write stuff out and digest it this way. Suffer with me and my ADHD way of synopsis writing)

After Mourynn (or whoever she was originally meant to be) finally emerged from her pod a year late, she was frail and unstable due to her “unique condition”. It was a miracle she was alive at all, due to her extremely late arrival that was accelerated after her pod died for a short while (due to Vallotash accidentally killing her and trying to reverse her mistake, affectively taking over her body instead and erasing her own memories and replacing it with what remained of the Firstborn’s. More here in the origins link: EPILOGUE)

(The first few pics up top portray Wynne helping Mourynn after Awakening, where her head is hurting terribly and she has no strength to stand on her own yet).

Since there were no Menders at this time (as none of the Secondborn would even exist for another year or so), and their “Late-bloomer” was in need of urgent care or she was bound to perish yet again, Wynne volunteered to be her Caretaker while she was under quarantine for a number of reasons, not all of them made apparent due to sensitive matters.

In addition, Mourynn was originally supposed to be part of the Dawn trio of Firstborn, but due to the uh, situation, she awoke during the cusp at midnight, effectively making her a Nightbloom instead (well, she insists anyways), which was another obligatory reason why Wynne felt compelled to help look after her (with Wynne being the oldest in the cycle, and Mourynn being the youngest).

However, what Wynne never spoke about was the secret she learned about their origins with Mordremoth, a secret she kept with the Pale Tree, and where this gut feeling of unease loomed over in her mind with the consistent unusual things that kept happening with this final pod.

She could sense that something felt very off and she didn’t know what, but she didn’t want to take the risk in case her suspicions were correct. The fact she couldn’t sense Mourynn’s Dream connection or sense her at all was alarming enough, but she didn’t want her worries to be true or to have doubt that one of their own was a danger to them, especially one whom she was greatful to be alive at all. But in the worst case scenario where she was right, she needed to be the one to do what had to be done for all their sakes, even if she really didn’t want to. To protect the secret as long as possible, and to keep the rest of the Sylvari safe, if it had to come to that.

By becoming Mourynn’s Caretaker, she would be able to monitor her at all times and keep watch of her condition. While she hated how horrible it felt having to watch their youngest with a metaphorical knife behind her back, she still did genuinely want to help her get better, trying her hardest to not bond too deep of a connection in case she had to sever it.

But Wynne being Wynne, she was hospitable and kind-hearted by nature. She felt guilty having to watch Mourynn with this ulterior motive and having put doubt in someone who barely had the chance to exist, but she made up for it by working tirelessly to figure out what it was that was causing her constant declining health.

And that, she did!! While Wynne wouldn’t admit that she was avoiding this last approach (after many other various trials) due to what it might entail (dragon connection), Wynne was able to discover Mourynn’s magic deficiency, and had to muster up creative ways to get some magic into her system (with some help of the other Firstborn finding different sources of magic for her to use).

Once Mourynn’s physical status started to recover, she wasn’t uncomfortably bored and bedridden for long hours of the day anymore. Her head hurt way less, she had energy, and was visibly less wilted too. Now Wynne, despite the potential risk of increasing the potential Dragon-link threat by giving it a source of magic, was still relieved that she was able to discover the cause of her problems, and now she just had to help her find a way to maintain it (which is where Mourynn started practicing both Artificing and Cooking TOGETHER to make herself magically enhanced food, as well as potions for on-the-go, but food seemed to be the most effective and long-lasting).

Now that Mourynn was able to actually thrive and be more independent, the two of them could finally converse more thoroughly and do other things. At this point, Mourynn’s entire existence was being connected to Wynne and having her around (even though she desperately wanted to see and know Caithe more after she rescued her from the Dream, she was often out and about elsewhere with Faolain, leaving her with Wynne, who seemed to be the only person who insisted in keeping her around. Something she became reliant on, being her only true comfort and familiarity).

At this point in time, Wynne was the person she was closest with, the two of them spent a lot of time doing other things. Walks around the Grove, Wynne told her stories, Mourynn TRIED to tell her anything, but her memory was nearly void save for the last few moments, which Wynne reassured her was alright (despite it being one of the many signs that worried her).

They would prepare food together, nap together, cloud watch/stargaze, play with Fern Hound pups, Mourynn would show her some of the shaping she had been practicing (exceptionally well too. Potentially concerning) but was too self-conscious to show anyone else (especially Kahedins, who she was forming a one-sided rivalry against). They shared a lot of fond memories and experiences in this short time, and even though Wynne was wary of bonding at all (in case of the worst), she reluctantly cast all her doubts aside as she didn’t see her as a threat anymore, despite the quiet little voice in her head that was still left uncertain, which she chose to ignore.

Now with Mourynn more independent, Wynne could continue pursuing some things she had on hold or could only partially work on during her caretaker role. She would leave the Grove for a while, and would encourage Mourynn to get to know her fellow Firstborn while she went to attend other matters. Mourynn, of course, was TERRIFIED at this thought and avoided them isntead. While she enjoyed the new freedom she had, she hadn’t realized how dependant she had grown to Wynne’s presence, choosing to quietly watch the others in the background (or just go elsewhere to be alone instead).

It took a bit of effort, but Wynne basically had to properly re-introduce her to the others (how embarrassing!), despite the fact that they had all been living under the same canopy all this time. Wynne couldn’t get too upset since this was kind of her fault for making her this way due to her obsessive guardianship, which hindered proper socialization. Mourynn’s Nightbloom-ness was extremely apparent as well, earning her the cheeky little “Wallflower” nickname from the others (primarily Faolain) due to how little she connected with them, and her overall avoidance and quietness (not to mention she was a little weird and off-putting, but no one was going to say that to her face. Except for Faolain, of course).

Mourynn did eventually start to interact with the others more (albeit a bit cautiously). The Pale Tree helped nudge her in the right direction and break the ice. Mourynn could sense something wasn’t quite right about herself and that was influencing her skittishness, but the Pale Tree brought her comfort when Wynne was away (which made it obvious how depressed and lonely this made Mourynn feel, but it was necessary. This also lead to Mourynn spending a lot of time in the Omphalos Chamber).

While she didn’t connect with everyone (as not everyone was there anymore, such as Riannoc being dead before her awakening, and the others that left the Grove during this time whom she only got to briefly meet beforehand), she did finally get to see more of both Caithe and Faolain (the Toxic Throuple stuff will be for another post >:3), and would eventually be tutored by Faolain in fine tuning her Mesmer skills as her nightmarish illusions/hallucinations were getting out of hand and causing havoc as Wynne was away longer and longer, and how her teleportation abuse was becoming a bit of a nuisance as well (and Faolain of course, would love to take this offer to be her mentor. I’ll save this for another post later too).

Aife also became one of the other Firstborn she bonded a bit more with (as Mourynn was meant to be a Dawnbloom initially, so Aife was a bit saddened to see her fellow pod-mate separate from them), but she did offer Mourynn a place of respite whenever she needed somewhere quiet and peaceful (the Garden of Dawn secret area, which also has the waterfalls which Mourynn felt very comfortable in, of which she will discover her affinity for water later as well).

Of course, everything leads to the end where we all know what happens to Wynne in the Point of No Return chapter, but unfortunately Mourynn does not. She won’t find out Wynne’s fate until much later, and will only be left with the ongoing worry and sadness that Wynne left for Dry Top and was never seen again, only leaving her with some uneasy parting words that felt like a potential final goodbye (as Wynne was already aware that Faolain might take things too far, considering how much she was hounding her already, and knew the secret she was carrying was heavy and dangerous). (Also to note, Mourynn isn’t meant to be portrayed as like, a shy quiet uwu softie. She’s not. She’s just a bit avoidant and quiet (and yes shy), but in a more wary/cautious/antisocial-esq kind of way. She has a dry sense of humour, is quite blunt, and is a bit of a menace who talks a bit weird and misunderstands things a lot (because I think it’s hilarious), but is a very good listener and will keep many secrets. She’s trying hard to act normally, but her dragon-brain wiring is also making this very difficult. Also with technically being a parasite (as that’s what Vallotash is), it’s partially in her nature to latch onto someone and be a bit co-dependent (as seen above), even though she contradictorily wants to be completely independent as well, causing a lot of internal conflicts in her mind and emotions)

[screams-in-writing]

Oops my hands slipped again

The end of the smg4 movie struck me with inspiration.

Note for this snippet:

This could technically take place in the performance enhancing coffee au world, if I ever get to that point and it somehow works out. But I desperately wanted to write something with Mr. Wpnz and Mr. Puzzles in it and then I went. Ah yes. Lemme just Introduce that Mc to the former and freak out the latter yessss.

-x

Mr. Puzzles was deep in a conversation with his new…’friend’, a fellow by the name of Mr. Wpnz, who had provided Puzzles with quite the show for him to watch from afar. Quite a violent, action packed one at that! And at times, both heartbreaking and heartfelt. 

Oh, the way some of it had pulled at one’s emotions!

And with the name Mr. Wpnz, Puzzles couldn’t help but feel a certain kinship with some else who’d chosen to use ‘Mr’ as a part of their name.  

But that was a minute detail, at present. 

Right now, Mr. Puzzles engaged with this previously beaten-up mostly-mechanical being, now mostly put back together after puzzles had offered a hand in the ‘put back together phase’. After all, Mr. Puzzles had to maintain a partially mechanical body as well, though not one as mechanical as Mr. Wpnz. 

This meeting was the next step; it would be a test to see how this…friendship could pan out. 

With the newly put back together-recuperating weapons man who had all kinds of, well, weapons, packed everywhere on his person, Mr. Puzzles was certain the two of them could have quite a productive meeting.

Really.

How ever could that Karen not want to have such an interesting man about? Even with the violent tendency to fire upon others when things got, well, heated and dangerous, it seemed like Wpnz was someone who could have your back.

If properly motivated, of course. 

Mr. Puzzles sure did hope that he could convince Mr. Wpnz that he himself was a showman, a behind the scenes man, and not a fighter (at least not in the real world; Puzzles’ mind, however, was another matter altogether).

Of course, making any sort of progress in the conversation was dashed by the door suddenly being slammed open and someone very familiar to Mr. Puzzles yelled his name.

“PUZZLES WHERE IN THE WORLD HAVE YOU BEEN?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD THIS WHOLE TIME!”

Mr. Puzzles hastily reached out to press down on the gun Mr. Wpnz suddenly turned his hand into, already prepared to fire. 

“And here you are, conversing with some weapon toting weirdo in a dark warehouse?what the heck, Puzzles?” The voice continued on, upset. “Why didn’t you at least let me know you were alive?!”

“I thought there wasn’t supposed to be anyone here but us?” Wpnz growled under his breath at the tv-headed man as he moved his arm out of Puzzles’ grasp, deactivating it. 

“I have been…dating them, before that ah, incident occurred that I told you about. I had yet to inform them that I hadn’t ended up buried under all the rubble.” Mr. Puzzles spun and clapped his hands together as he flashed a nervous, uncertain technicolor smile your way. “Hello, my dear. It has been too long. I do so apologize for not contacting you straight away. I was not in the best of places. You know how I…got, at times, and I’d rather you not see me like that….”  Puzzles voice dropped low, nearly inaudible, and toneless, despite the smile he showed outwardly to you and Wpnz. “Still not in a good place, even now.” 

You looked like you weren’t entirely happy with his explanation. It was likely that you  understood he had been doing his best to not get carried away with his pursuit of a five star rating again, although the theme park HAD gotten a teensy-tiny bit out of hand and it had slipped his mind that you’d be worried about him and-

“-and how’d ya meet this guy? He as interestin’ with his tv shtick as he seems to imply?”

Mr. Puzzles stiffened, whipping his body around, tv head first, to show off an incredibly displeased expression. He didn’t bother to hold the twitching or the strained smile that appeared on his face.

How dare this weapon maniac so causally greet you! Mr. Wpnz didn’t know that you couldn’t be hurt like the rest of the denizens of this world could be. 

“Oh yes I remember!” Mr. Puzzles answered before you could, frantic to have you step away from Wpnz. “We met when I was at my lowest, languishing in recent defeat, and I was shown quite the kindness while I recovered, after some misunderstandings were cleared up. Made some friends in the process, and even a little something more.” Mr. Puzzles pointedly flashed a winning smile to you, hopeful, and continuing to really, really not like the way you were so close to a being more metal than flesh, even more than he. 

You gave Mr. Puzzles a searching look, then turned to Mr. Wpnz, and waved him down to whisper at him.

Puzzles bristled at this, but waited. 

Impatiently. 

He didn’t particularly care for the way that Wpnz began to smirk, his lips curving up and his sharp teeth baring in amusement at whatever you had said to him.

Oh…

No.

no no no.

Mr. Puzzles did not like that one bit. He was very tempted to take the pair of you into his television mind and keep Wpnz there while he attempted to sort things out with you and-

“You serious?” The incredulous tone was genuine; Wpnz was looking at you uncertainly now, all weapons pointed very carefully away from you as he reassessed something, even if he remained stooped. “That’s quite a claim. If it’s true, this ain’t a safe place for ya to be.”

You muttered something again.

…Mr. Puzzles really didn’t want Mr. Wpnz to know about your vulnerability here, but it seems you may have spilled the beans already. Puzzles was upset when you inexplicably allowed Mr. Wpnz to pick you up. Mr. Puzzles spluttered in response, until Wpnz hooked a thumb over a shoulder and the sudden noise that was not something Puzzles wanted to hear with you near.

Why in the world was there a random shootout with reptiles suddenly?

Mr. Puzzles was completely certain there had been no one around when he’d arranged this meeting with Wpnz.

“Get your stuck legs moving!” Mr. Wpnz called, suddenly some distance away with you.

Seeing you wave at him, Mr. Puzzles hastily pursued, long legs allowing him to keep up. At the very least, Wpnz was at least attempting to not jostle you as he ran along.

…perhaps not contacting you straight away to let you know he was still ‘alive’ hadn’t been the the best decision. (Don’t think about Wpnz being an assassin while the man was carrying you)

At least you were being taken away from danger, even if the rude bastard happens to shoot a weapon over his shoulder past Mr. Puzzles with unerring accuracy. 

Mr. Puzzles hadn’t expected the retaliation from the outset behind, and let out an undignified shriek when one of those reptiles shot in their general direction. Another gasp, this one of affront, at Mr. Wpnz’s audacity to backtrack and scoop Puzzles up, tossing him over a shoulder like he weighed nothing. 

“Don’t break my beautiful face!” Mr. Puzzles shouted over the gunfire that was getting closer. 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t break ya face, I heard ya the first time.”

Puzzles’ expression turned aggrieved at the way Wpnz held you in the crook of one arm, from the way your legs hung down, as Puzzles found himself looking backward at the ruckus going on. Then, Mr. Puzzles heard you laugh. A mix of an exhilarated ‘wtf is this’ laugh, and a ‘oh no I’m in danger’ nervous laugh. 

Hmm.

Well, he much preferred your laughter to any disappointment. Mr. Puzzles would have to use the time in this (humiliating) retreat to think of how to explain himself more than excuses.

-x

Another note:

The following is what happened later once all three of ‘em get to safety (with some ridiculousness), but I didn’t finish writing it out entirely because my eyes said no more to screen time atm:

MC, inexplicably brandishing the smaller Mr puzzles plush: how could you leave me and your son without knowing you were all right? (Joking around but Mc still upset they were meant to think puzzles was dead dead this past time).

Mr puzzles, absolutely floundering for a response: *utter confusion then faint amusement over the plush*

Mr. Wpnz, watching this familiar yet not familiar back and forth: *misses his wife and kids but knows he can’t have his shooting assassin career and them. Plus he’s bitter about what happened. Pushing away *those* thoughts to deal with at another time, Wpnz decides to be a shit* “yeah how could you?” Drops a hand on mc’s shoulder and shakes his head, motioning at the mc. “And to a face like that?”

‘that’ being mc’s pout of disappointment while still holding the plush of puzzles

Mr puzzles is scandalized that he’s being teamed up on and how dare you let that Wpnz so casually stand next to you (aka tv man doesn’t realize jealousy hitting him in the face)

Wpnz sees something is up but those thoughts are crowding in so he doesn’t notice the jealousy rising up off tv man

you notice it and dramatically lean against Wpnz while lamenting that it’s so difficult to go on in life without knowing if you were ever going to see him again.

puzzles is despairing when Wpnz plays along for nothing better to do.

Mc is just going ah yes new friend with a distressing amount of weapons who seems to know my tv man bf this will be interesting.

puzzles laments ever meeting with Wpnz as he would have rather you avoided meeting him.

[leashybebes]

mildly-late motivation monday

tagged by a few people recently - @trombonechurchill, @rcmclachlan, @apollabarnes, thanks gang

this is a longer-than-usual snippet from cherry blossoms/summer project picking up from the snippet in this post and for non-discworld pals - confusing in an intriguing way, or just straight up annoying?

because it's longer than usual i'm tagging above the read-more for...two or more sentences tuesday (i am bad at this) for @setmeatopthepyre, @ambernotember and @liminalmemories21

"What is it?" Buck asks, bringing the cylinder closer to his face. The symbols almost seem like they're moving, trying to get around to the other side of the cylinder every time he almost manages to focus on one.

"That's…a little hard to explain," Jamie says. "I call it the Pro-2. Second generation procrastinator."

"Uh…"

"Procrastinators are - you know spools on a sewing machine?"

"I mean…broadly," Buck says. 

"Well, imagine the thread is time. That's a procrastinator. They wind time back and forth, help the monks keep history on course."

"That's…" Buck can't really say crazy after he's just walked through the streets of Los Angeles frozen in time, but…it's pretty fucking crazy.

"That's our job," Jamie says. "It's what we do. Well, not me personally. The drivers run the hall of procrastinators at home. In the monastery. I work - worked with Qu, the Master of Devices. He said - he used to say I had a knack for things like this. Not - not time as such, but the Devices we use to manage it."

"You - you change history?" Buck asks, thinking of losses big and small throughout his own life, throughout all of history.

"We mend it," Jamie corrects him. "Humans do things all the time that shouldn't be done. Shouldn't be possible yet. They make time, they waste time, they break it in a hundred little ways every single day. It's our job to mend it."

Buck's not sure he's ever going to understand any of this, but there's something there he can cling onto. 

"And he's not supposed to be dead."

"Well…" Jamie says, with a shrug.

"I'm not asking you," Buck says, tightening his hold on the Pro-2. "I'm telling you. There is no way that he is supposed to be dead. Now tell me how this helps."

Jamie looks at him for long enough that Buck starts to feel uncomfortable. To his eyes, Jamie's a kid, only a handful of years older than Christopher, but something about the intensity of his stare as he studies Buck's face is unsettling.

"What?" he asks.

"You reminded me of someone," Jamie says. "Not someone I met, but someone we helped. I heard Qu talking about him with - with someone. And they said, there was no universe, anywhere, where this man would give in on this, because if he did, he wouldn't be him anymore."

"Oh," Buck says, and he has to look away. "Yeah. Okay. Jamie, please. How does it work?"

Jamie points to the base of the Pro-2, where a tiny button is almost hidden, it sits so flush with the rest of the device. "Push that when I tell you to. A little needle will prick your finger. And then - well. So I said a procrastinator winds time back and forth around you? The Pro-2 winds you back and forth around time."

Holy fucking time travel, Buck thinks, and for the first time since they arrived on the scene and he saw the mangled mess of Tommy's truck, he feels like maybe the world isn't ending after all.