#this isn't even half of what I thought I'd write but it's been almost two days since I watched

[alicepao13]

I wanted to rewatch S06E09 before writing this, preferably with subtitles and a better rip, but someone's dragging their feet, so maybe I'll write another post at some point. Some good parts, some I didn’t care about, some that I personally wish they were different (not really bad but I had other thoughts).

So, in this NCIS Hudson and Rex episode:

The first shot seemed like kind of a small ship, it probably wasn’t but the shot made it that way. Sorry, Canada, I’ve been spoiled by all the aircraft carrier shots through the years lol. The one where it turns from day to night, I hated that. It seemed so fake.

The way Charlie’s dad kept criticizing him about everything got on my nerves. I also don’t love the casual sexism of him implying that it’s best if a wife stays home. Definitely shows that Charlie barely had meaningful interactions with this man. And to mention Sarah as Charlie’s “office romance”? Ugh.

This is where I decided that Charlie was raised by Aunt Miranda. It was a good thing that his dad probably missed quite a bit of his childhood.

“Charles” makes me feel like they should be inside the Buckingham palace. And truly, this is the only place I’d ever think they’d feed a dog using a toothpick. Poor Rex had to eat off a toothpick to satisfy that man! I kept hoping that he’d bite him.

Imagine this show having any continuity at all. Charlie would have to explain some of his latest adventures, the poisoning, the jail, etc.

I like that Sarah touches Charlie as soon as he tells her that the killer could be one of his dad’s sailors. She understands what this means for him.

Classic “found the killer the moment they appeared on screen” episode.

Sarah, we have chairs. (Nah, just keep doing that, actually.)

I didn’t know that Canada also had JAG officers. Now I can't help wondering who investigates crimes committed against Navy personnel lol

Here’s where Commander Hudson’s possible motivation doesn’t make that much sense: In most Navy ships, the higher ups barely know their sailors. So, he wouldn’t feel like he needed to protect them. He would most likely feel like he needed to protect the Navy's reputation from possibly harboring a killer. Having said that, I have no knowledge of how big this ship is. And the initial footage was kinda terrible. Understandable, because this isn’t that kind of show, but still terrible.

I love Rex's defensive reaction to the Commander throughout the episode. He can sense how much he unsettles Charlie and makes him change things about himself.

Charlie’s dad implying that Rex has an attitude problem when he is trying to cover up a crime… the nerve…

“...my boys” Oh no he did not. I know how much that can hurt.

The hilarity of the justification of sending troops in the other side of the world, to “keep the peace”… I expect this from military shows, I don’t expect it from shows like Hudson and Rex. And the triumphant music in the background… we get it.

Rex’s barks as Charlie puts the guy in handcuffs could mean nothing other than “suck it, asshole”.

Charlie was a bit… I’m not sure how to put it… Not exactly himself during that interrogation. I imagine he knew his father was watching, but he seemed like he’d jump the guy, or his JAG lawyer, or both.

How did we get from “office romance” to “my son is a lucky man”? Who knows. I mean, Sarah is quite impressive, but this seems like some kind of witchcraft.

Well, at least they didn’t make the bad guy be the Lieutenant in an episode full of men with bad behaviors. Also, I didn’t know they pronounced "Lieutenant" the British way.

Charlie is learning Rex’s language (growl). I find nothing weird with this.

The scene with Joe was nice. But Joe, just put a damn pillow on that couch. You know that none of your subordinates actually sleep in their homes (which is one more reason we’ll never see a bedroom set *sigh*)

John Reardon’s voice drops another half octave when he’s lying down. Good lord. Also, I started praying for his poor neck in that position, at least he didn’t stay there for long. That would have incapacitated me if I stayed like that for even ten minutes.

“I let my issues with my dad…” Which are…? Please, elaborate.

Charlie beckoning Rex when neither of them has slept for a day. Leave the poor dog alone, you sadist. Dogs don’t understand the meaning of overtime.

So, I guess when Hudson men have sorrows, they literally run?

I wanted to keep hating his dad a little more. Why’d they have to reconcile them so fast?

Good episode. I’d have liked if Charlie said a bit more about what bothered him in his father’s behavior, and not regarding the case. It seemed like his father just wasn’t around as much and possibly considered his sailors as his children, maybe even more than his actual children, and Charlie seemed to resent him for that, understandably. But we were also already at the part where the two men were trying to mend fences, and although all the effort seemed to he made by Charlie at the start of the episode, it shifted towards the end to his dad making the effort.

Promo: The dreaded (by me) golf episode. Let me get this straight: The team went golfing and found a body? We can’t take these guys anywhere. 

Poor Rex! If that's a serious head injury, I’ll sue. That’s what we have Charlie's head for. But also, please allow Charlie to lose it a little.

Charlie Hudson is having such a bad time in this season, and I’m loving it.

[dyk3ification]

low | ellie williams

summary: ellie has been and always will be on top, the dominant one. but when reader asserts her control, ellie can’t help but fold a little. basically ellie x dom! fem reader. (written from ellie's pov)

warnings: slight choking, name-calling (teasing), slapping, r receiving, r riding, strap-on sex, pet names, subtop! ellie x dombottom! reader, no use of y/n, if i forget anything pls lmk, 18+ (minors PLS dni.)

word count: 2,592

A/N: hi i havent written in so long and i cant stop reading ellie fics atm so i figured why not! plus i feel like there's a shortage of dom! fem reader fics out there. i just thought it would be a different reading experience to almost be in ellie's head, pretend ur reading her journal or sum fr. all that being said i hope you enjoy!! pls lmk if you do!! and a big ty to @elliewill for all her help and motiv when i was writing and debating this fic, i love her so bad.

i'm in charge, always. in charge of pleasing her, fucking her, loving her; in charge of her. the power complex when she's beneath me while i pound into her, getting to watch her face as the only sound she can make isn't even moaning. just short, open-mouthed gasps and whimpers, her eyes always locked with mine. her eyes would feel like they were nearly piercing into my brain like two damn fucking ice picks.

it only made me want more. more power, more of her. the way her eyes would hold their gaze on mine, even when the pleasure would threaten her to squeeze them shut; or go half-lidded. which was so unbelievably fucking hot to watch, knowing i was the reason for that- i needed her to look at me. i needed to know that she knew who was in charge, who was doing this to her, and who was making her feel so good. so i could know i was that person. who owned her, and fucked her so well she could barely keep her pretty eyes open. or her mouth closed. one of my hands began to travel, the journey starting from one of her thighs that i had pressed into her abdomen as i fucked her, not forgetting to drag the pads of my fingers over her skin; knowing how she reacted- and loving the feel of her shiver beneath them when she did react. the journey ended at her neck, one of my favorite places of her to hold. especially during times like these. i had a hold on her, physically and metaphorically. i threatened a squeeze, smirking softly as her pretty little lips parted when i did. those perfect lips, that were glazed from her drool, and mine. those lips that she couldn't keep shut, but could only let those heavenly fucking sounds out of. the sounds of encouragement, the sounds that i caused her to make. a short gasp fell from those damned lips of hers when i threatened the squeeze. i leaned in even more, my own lips barely touching hers, but enough for her to whimper against mine. it killed me knowing she whimpered, just for me. just for a fucking kiss from me. i began to speak, wanting to hear more of those pretty little praises. whether by sounds or words, despite knowing the words would probably be broken; but that made it even better. “yeah baby? you love me fucking you, ‘feels good, yeah?” 

“yeah.. it feels good fucking me, doesn't it, baby?” 

my grip on her neck loosened for a moment, more so fucking slipped. i let out a wry laugh to disguise the clearing i needed to do for my throat, nearly choking over what i just heard. i squeezed her throat this time, using her neck as leverage to pull her face to mine. baby? is she fucking with me? her face was smug once we were face to face, i couldn't tell if i was feeling her pulse on my palm or my own fucking heart pounding. baby. why did she sound so fucking hot-

“you okay, baby?” she spoke again. jesus fucking christ. her delicate hand trailed up my forearm, i knew she was watching my face to see if i'd give in. cave into her touch, her words; her. she stopped at my wrist, and my grip on her neck was merely even a hold at this point- and she used it to her advantage. she lifted my hand slowly, placing my thumb between those fucking lips of hers. the same lips that were making me so fucking weak with their words. “`m fine.” i mumbled, maybe stuttered. i knew i didn't look it, but i was so ready to just fucking collapse. and she knew it.

“you sure?” she asked again, the plump skin of her lips brushing against the pad of my thumb when she spoke. i can't fucking do this shit. i hadn't even realized i had stopped moving, or lost my grip on those delicious fucking thighs of hers. but she did.

oh and did she use it to her advantage. she took those thighs and pulled me in again, locking me in with her. i couldn't hold back the groan, i was holding it in for too long at this point. her words, her voice, her fucking lips.. the pressure against me from the fucking harness of the strap when she pulled me in. everything. i dropped my face into the crook of her neck. too ashamed to even face her. god does not fucking give his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers.

“ohhh, c’mon baby…” she fucking cooed. i just pressed my lips to her neck, trying to keep together any fucking amount of dignity i had left. if i were ever to whimper- so help me god. she fucking giggled. i suppose the hitch of my breath when my hands practically shook against her waist; was not keeping my act together. 

within seconds i was being pushed onto my back, my own hands getting thrown at my sides. she crawled right onto my lap, her thighs on either side of mine, caging me in. i was absolutely fucking gone. i threw my hands up, my biceps staying against the bed. “babe.” i managed to get out, my eyes probably looking fucking wild. do i look at her face, her tits, her? she had rode me before, just not.. like this. “what is it, baby?” she said so fucking casually. like it was just some ordinary fucking question. is she fucking insane?

“noth.. nothin’.” i said through a shaky breath, real fucking dominant ellie. my eyes darted back and forth between her own, and her hips as she took me in again. that perfectly tight little cunt of hers sliding both of us right back into place. i bit down on my lip, leaning my head back into the pillow and just staring at the ceiling. i was gone. 

a few throaty moans escaped my lips. a sound i rarely let happen. get it to-fucking-gether. the pressure on me from her bouncing on the stupid fucking cock, the sheer sight of her fucking herself on me like the little fucking slut she was. i could barely even watch her, i'd embarrassed myself enough. all i could do was let a hand run up her thigh, too weak even to caress it the way i usually would. i stopped at her hip, those perfect round hips she moved so fucking well for me. she had the power now. she had power over me. 

“you like watching me fuck you, huh baby? so fucking dirty-” she spoke almost brokenly, but the words. the words. i think i let out a choke from them. if she ever knew how close to the edge i was right now. so close to soaking through the thin cotton of my fucking boxers. just from this and the friction, i’d never fucking hear the end of it. maybe i wanted to listen to it, though.

“mm- mhm. watching.. watching you take me s-so  fucking good baby…” 

she froze, stopping all her movements. those eyes piercing mine once again. oh fuck.

“did you just fucking stutter?” she said with that smug little fucking look, i could practically hear a laugh in her throat. she tilted her head, slowly leaning down to be face to face. i'm fucking gone. i furrowed my brows when i looked back to her. keep your fucking composure ellie. get it together. “no.” i practically choked on the syllable, my hand on her hip slipping slightly. she just gave me a smirk, that slutty little, smug, fucking smirk.

“fuck.”

it was all i could say- whimpered,  when she jutted her hips forward, if she didn't know i was on the brink before, she sure as fuck did now. my hands had dropped at this point, i had to of looked like such a fucking fool. i couldn't even keep my eyes open at this point, but i had to. i couldn't miss seeing her like this. being such a slut and owning it. owning me. she looked so fucking hot right now, taking me in and out of that tight cunt effortlessly, her hair thrown to one side, her perfect fucking tits bouncing with every jut of her hips. and she was all fucking mine, and clearly, i was all fucking hers.

i squeezed my eyes shut, unsure of how else to hide how fucking close i was. how fucking close i was to letting go into my fucking boxers beneath the goddamned harness of the strap she was fucking herself on. i kept my eyes shut, unable to look at her knowing what i was about to fucking do. how fucking embarrassing.

until i felt that sweet little hand of hers on my neck, her touch gentle and her skin soft. my eyes were jutting open, as much as they even could, if they weren't rolling fucking backward already. i whined. how fucking pathetic. 

“babe-”

i tried to speak, only to be cut off by a smack on my fucking cheek.  from the same dainty hand that was just on my neck. and i fucking moaned. the sting of it. the fucking sting that came from that sweet hand of hers. 

 “i want you to look at me when you cum.” 

and i nearly did right there. she knew what she was doing, what i was trying not to do, the entire fucking time. i just gave her a nod, too embarrassed of what would come out sound or word-wise if i were to fucking speak. usually, i’d be ravenous at this point for her to fucking cum, abusing that cute clit of hers while she bounced on me. until she gushed around me and collapsed. but that's the last possible thing i could even fathom doing right now, she was waiting on me. fucking herself to the brink. fucking me to the verge of insanity, it felt like.

“what a fuckin’ pussy..” she muttered through her heavenly fucking moans, shooting me a smirk. and i let out a fucking gasp. a fucking throaty, wimpy, loser-like fucking gasp.. a whimper.

i knew she was nearing her end, the way her hips twitched at the end of every hip thrust, the way she began to slouch towards me. i just wanted to fucking touch her, and i couldn't. 

but she was fucking herself. 

“you like watching me play with my little clit, baby-” 

fuck.

she was starting to lose again.

“you're so fuckin’ hot, baby..” i finally managed to speak coherently. barely. my eyes darted down to what she was doing, taking my chance when she tilted her head back from the euphoria. those pretty digits of her’s making circles over her clit, so wet her slick had them glistening. god. she looked so fucking pretty like that, using me as a fucking toy. fucking herself into euphoria. so much of a slut for me that my cock wasn't enough. she needed even more.

that hand of hers that had slapped me, that nearly had me coming, amongst other things; still on my cheek. anytime my eyes fluttered shut, she'd give the skin of my cheek beneath her palm a smack. reminding me of what she wanted from me. this tap, she wanted something else. those fingers she had on that clit of hers just mere seconds ago, now being dragged down on my lower lip, tugging it when she did. teasting me with the essence of her cunt that i loved so much. it took everything i had in me not to give in and suck on them like some little bitch, yearning to taste that sweet shine on them.

 i wasn't that weak, though.

“go ahead. suck ‘em off, baby. just like my little mouth does on that big fucking cock of yours.”

nevermind. 

and i did. wrapping my lips around those two fingers, stabilizing myself by wrapping my hand around her wrist. being a little bitch, her little bitch. i knew i must have looked like one too. sucking the juices of that delicious pussy of hers off of her fingers, latched onto them like i was fucking dehydrated and hadn't had a damn drink in days. 

“this must be how pretty i look.. huh? when i'm suck- sucking your dick.” 

there she was. 

she slipped. if we were in any other situation, i would've caught it. but she did. of course, she did. so she snatched her sweet fingers away, wrapping them around my jaw to cover that slip-up that showed how weak she still was. like i should be fucking talking. to keep my eye contact locked with hers, those gorgeous fucking eyes. 

“gonna… gonna cum all over your fucking cock, baby,” she said through broken moans and her pretty little sounds, continuing to fuck as much out of that silicone as she could take. without my relentless ‘help,’ she couldn't take as much. but she was taking it  “so good.. my fuck.. fuckin’ whore..” her eyes were glued to mine. the contact unbreakable. like something was holding the connection of us together so fucking well. and there was; pure fucking lust. she knew how badly i wanted to watch. watch her slick shining all over my cock every time she moved up on it, watch it pool at the base of it. soak those perfect fucking thighs, knowing i'd clean it all up for her after.

she was losing.

but fucking so was i.

she let out one loud moan, gasping as she began to tremble, her hand that was once on my neck dragging down to my abdomen. clutching on for dear fucking life. i let out a grunt when her face was down, letting her fuck herself through her orgasm. “so fucking good, baby..” i said as i watched her, hiding my own trembling with hers. i was sure my lip would be fucking bruised from how hard i was biting it. my hands slipping down her hips yet again, still wanting to keep her precious body stable and safe while we, she came. i am no better than a man. 

the skin of my abdomen beneath her fingers, now indented with crescent shapes from her damn nails. a wet spot from slick on the base of the strap. 

and beneath it. 

she collapsed onto my chest, her chest rising with every fall of my own. our bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces that created a perfect picture. i threw an arm around her back as she lifted her hips off with a short breath, allowing me to pull out. 

and there she was, there i was. fucked, literally. I tightened my arm around her back, her sweet body curling against mine when i did, dancing the pads of my fingers along her ribs. 

she nestled her cheek into the valley of my chest, her sweet fingers dancing up the strap of my sports bra. “hey.” i spoke up, lifting my hand from her side to brush some wispy hairs from her temple, some of them stuck to her sticky skin. she looked up to me, using my chest as a pillow for her chin. that pretty face, all mine.

“you really think i'm a pussy?” i quirked as i looked down to her.

a beat.

“i mean.. you are what you eat.” 

“speaking of.”

i smirked. i had a mess to clean up.

[da-mous]

My thoughts on Walnuts & Rain

Hello burgers, fries, and everything in between! I didn't think I'd wanna write another Adventure Time post so soon, but I remembered Walnuts & Rain and really wanted to talk about it. Unlike Puhoy, nobody really talks about this one, but it's actually among my favorite episodes believe it or not! Both settings in this one really capture my imagination, and I like how the whole thing feels kind of like a fable. It's full of the kind of potent, unexplained weirdness you get in old fairytales, and I think that's cool!!

So, as a refresher, this episode has Finn & Jake falling down two different holes and ending up in two different situations that explore class disparity and the dangers of getting too comfortable

Finn falls into the Huge Kingdom, which seems to just be this one big room with food lining the walls, where the Huge King forever sits in his throne, constantly fed big food by little food boyz and excitedly anticipating the hourly chiming of his big cuckoo clock in an endless loop

The Huge King of course embodies absolute wealth and fortune. He never has to lift a finger. His servants bring him all the food he'll ever need, and his clock not only provides entertainment, it gives him something to anticipate, like a long cooldown timer in a predatory mobile game

The Huge King seems to idolize the concept of waiting. Almost everything he could want comes to him in time, and he doesn't seem to be aware that this isn't a universal law--it's a product of his privilege. But I did say almost everything...

Next to the Huge King's throne, Finn is put in a second throne half the King's size, but still way too big for Finn. It feels to me like the king had a companion at one point who left, or maybe he never had one, but he's been waiting all this time for one. Either way, when he tries to prevent Finn from leaving with force, it starts to seem clear to me that the Huge King is lonely

In this way I think he's as trapped as Finn is. He isn't fully satisfied here, but how could he ever think about leaving? Here, he's as fed as he'll ever need to be, and the clock provides an endless distraction from what he's missing

This is the lotus flower island trope I talked about in the Puhoy post played straight

Despite the tragedy of his situation, the Huge King is not really a character I want to sympathize with. He may come off like he doesn't understand the ethics of subjugating the food boys to endless labor, but I think on some level he does. His clock, which I imagine he commissioned since it's his size, says "in toil we krimber." People use weird words all the time in Adventure Time, but even Finn doesn't seem to know what "krimber" is. The message feels like deliberate yet meaningless propaganda glorifying labor to the food boyz

Further, the throne next to him is only half the size of his. Even his ideal companion would be beneath him, and I think his attempts to trap his new companion Finn show us why

The situation Jake falls into is in some ways the opposite of Finn's and in some ways the same. Having been knocked out before he fell, Jake wakes up on this platform that this bear dude is living on, parachuting endlessly in the dark pit. The bear dude, 7718, has been stuck down here waiting to reach the bottom so long he's lost track of time and forgotten his given name, but he's been able to survive off of the occasional walnuts and rain that fall into the pit. He passes the time playing Freecell, a spinoff of Solitaire--a much more active hobby than the King's

Despite his absolute poverty, 7 is like the chilliest dude ever. While he convinces Jake not to try to leave, it's only because he thinks Jake would be climbing so long he'd die of starvation. And, even though his gaunt appearance suggests the walnuts aren't even quite enough to sustain him, he doesn't even consider not sharing with Jake

While, like the King, 7 was completely alone until Jake arrived, he seems not to want for anything more than what he has. When Jake suggests they could play some two-player card games, 7 says he forgot games like that even existed, as if he never even imagined he might have a friend down here. The one book he has, "Dividing the Day", seems to me like a book about structuring your day efficiently. Despite all the nothing going on, I get the impression 7 makes the most he can of every day

Interestingly, like the King, 7's food comes to him through no action of his own. It comes only occasionally, is very sparse, and walnuts are pretty tough to crack, but all 7 has to do is wait and crack nuts

7's situation is one anyone would reasonably want to escape, but it seems hopeless to try. There's really nothing he could do besides jumping and hoping to land in water or something... but his needs are almost kindasorta met here, and maybe one day he'll finally reach the bottom, so how could he ever think about trying?

In both wealth and poverty, it can be easy to find a relative peak of comfort and stay there forever, never questioning or challenging the system that keeps you forever unfulfilled. It can be easy to put off worrying about fulfillment at all, trusting that the system around you will bring it to you one day, when in reality, it likely never will. Not without action

The cruel twist is that 7 was never falling. He's inside the exhaust tunnel from the hood of the King's stove, perpetually kept running to prepare the King an endless stream of food, creating a persistent updraft that keeps 7's platform floating in place. Considering that the walnuts seem like not quite enough to sustain him, 7 could have starved in obscurity and poverty, with the change he was waiting for simply never coming

While 7 could truly have done nothing to change his situation, Jake, with his stretchy powers, is technically able, but he believes it would be impossible because he thinks the hole is much deeper than it is

The King could fix everyone's situations, but he's content enough with his own, he doesn't want to let Finn go, and he isn't even aware that his constant stream of food is causing 7 and Jake's situation

Finn, not satisfied trapped in the life of the King, is the only one to persist in his desire to escape the hand he's dealt. He forms a completely off the wall plan that would free only himself by using the resources afforded to him by the Huge Kingdom, but he changes his mind halfway through executing it and instead decides to disrupt the order of things by destroying the King's clock

In destroying the thing that traps the King, Finn inadvertently knocks over a pot whose water puts out the flames on the stove, finally ending the updraft that kept 7's platform in place and freeing him and Jake, despite Finn not even knowing they were there

Finn didn't need a rock solid plan, a thorough understanding of the system, or any idea of what he would do next, in order to change the majority's lives for the better just by disrupting the order set by the ruling class. He avoided the danger of getting too comfortable

Thanks for reading!!

Once again, I have a lot more to say about this one beyond broad, thematic analysis, so I might follow this up with another list of odds, ends, and little things :) I'm super happy people liked my Puhoy post! I'm not the most experienced writer or analyst, but I hope my thoughts come through clearly enough and ring true to people. I think I'll keep writing these every now and then as long as I keep feeling like I have something new to say!

[givemea-dam-break]

Hello! Could you do a Lockwood x reader where it’s like an enemies to lovers please? Thanks :) ❤️

a/n: abso fucking lutely i'm obsessed with this idea omg thank you, this is a long one, so be warned. i hope you enjoy! it doesn't have much of the 'lovers' part, so i'd be more than happy to write a part two if anyone wants :)

warnings: language, mentions of abuse (for a case, not the reader) gn reader

full series collection: here

Doughnuts. All you wanted was some goddamn doughnuts from your favourite bakery, but even that had to be ruined by some stuck-up, arrogant boy who had a penchant for wearing obnoxiously long jackets that were surely impractical.

Breathing a sigh through your nose, you gratefully take the box of glazed doughnuts from Arif.

He's striding towards you with those concerningly long legs, and it's only when you get closer to the door that you realise he's on a mission. If he'd wanted to make some snide remark, he would've done so in passing, but, no, he's making a beeline straight for you.

"Lockwood," you say tightly, gripping the box hard.

"(name)," he says, plastering on that infamous 'Lockwood Grin' that you cannot stand. "I was wondering if I could speak to you."

"Isn't that what you're doing now?"

If you didn't know any better, you'd think the sarcastic comment hadn't bothered him, but a muscle ticks ever so slightly in his jaw. Almost unnoticeable.

"I mean, out of the way of customers," he says, gesturing behind him to the line of people at the till. "Mind if we sit?"

You really don't want to, partly because he's a pompous ass that screwed you over a year ago, but also because you would much rather be sat in your flat, stuffing your face with glazed doughnuts while reading that new book your flatmate lent you. But something in his expression, his posture, tells you that it should wait and, against your better judgement, you trudge over to one of the small tables.

"What do you want?" you ask, crossing your arms. "There are things I'd much rather be doing than speaking to you."

Lockwood sits across from you, and that face of his - oh, how you want to punch it. It's as if his resting face is just one of pure confidence and arrogance, and you hate it.

"What? Sitting home doing nothing until you get a call for a job?" His brow raises in question. "Yeah, well, I've got a job for you. Lockwood and Co need help on a case."

You scoff. "And why would I help you? Last time I did that, you stole the job right from under me. DEPRAC rules, you said. Bullshit."

"Look," Lockwood says, "I didn't mean for that to happen. New rules had come into place that I didn't know about. But we need you, (name), even if it pains me to say."

"Well, it doesn't pain me to say no." You slip your bag on, which had been sitting on the ground by your feet, and stand, grasping your doughnut box. Then, sarcastically, "Have a great day, Lockwood."

"Wait, please."

For a moment, you hesitate. The way he said please tugged at something in you, something deep down and buried. One of his hands has reached across the table as if to grab yours, and you frown.

"Listen, I know we don't get along anymore, but this case... We need a Listener, a good one."

"Thought your Listener was the best in the country, or did you scare her off, too?"

He looks a little pained at that, but only for half a second. Then, he gestures for you to sit again. Reluctantly, you do so, but only because that little part of you, the part that you buried the last time you trusted him, is screaming at you.

"Lucy is out of action for a bit," Lockwood explains. "She's visiting family up north, but this isn't a case we can pass up. We need a Listener for it, and you're the next best thing. This time, I'll make sure you get your cut of the pay. This one is under Lockwood and Co, not DEPRAC."

You shouldn't accept the offer, you really shouldn't. Last time, he had taken the whole share for his company because "Whoever secures the source gets the pay", and you'd been left living on scraps for a fortnight until your next case came through. He'd promised you countless things before the case, after the case, and he'd fallen through on all of them.

But this... It's been a while since you've been on any case but some measly Type Ones, and you have to admit that you're itching to have a challenge, to really put your Talent to good use.

"Tell me about the case, and I'll think about it."

He perks up a little at that. "From the description the woman, Mrs Wyatt, gave us, something her granddaughter told her, we assume it's a Type Two, but a strong one. George can't find much, if anything, about the home to help us understand the purpose of the ghost or what a possible source may be, hence why we need a Listener."

"Right." You take one of the doughnuts from your box and take a bite out of it. "How much of the cut will I get? I understand you have a company, and that'll inevitably cost more, but I have bills to cover, too, and freelancers don't get nearly enough work."

"Forty percent," Lockwood offers.

You pause, taken aback. In all honesty, you would've accepted twenty-five percent - it was reasonable, and jobs with Type Twos often earned a lot more, so it's not like you would be going skint, but forty? It's more than you could've hoped for in a situation like this.

That doesn't mean you'll turn it down.

"Alright," you say. "Deal. Give me an address and a time, and I'll be there."

--

The house that looms over you is tall and foreboding despite its sandstone exterior, framed by beautiful flowering plants and some kids' tricycles and bikes in the driveway. It's a two-storey house, not overly large, but something about it has dread coiling in your stomach.

After the meeting with Lockwood, you decided to do a little bit of research yourself, and it turned out that he was right. Obviously, your research skills were nowhere even close to the standard of George's, but there was nothing except for some building plans for the house dating back to the early twentieth century.

So, here you stand, confused and annoyed, checking the watch on your wrist impatiently.

Late. Lockwood and George were late.

You expected as much, but it doesn't mean that you're not irritated. The sun is making its descent in the sky, and, although it's summer, the creeping darkness that is miles away from overtaking the sky still gives you a chill.

A Type Two in a house with no known malevolent history or any kind of strange deaths. Strange, but not entirely unheard of.

"(name)! So sorry we're late."

You turn, scowling. "You realise we now only have, what, twenty minutes to scout out the house and set up defences?"

Lockwood and George stumble to a stop in front of you, panting from running and carrying their heavy gear.

"Again," Lockwood says, "we're sorry. Let's get in there, shall we? Make a start?"

He makes for the front door and, begrudgingly, you follow shortly behind, George trailing after.

The interior of the house is cosy, with warm-toned flowery wallpaper and photographs hanging in frames from the walls. Children laughing in coloured photos, or black and white polaroids from even further before. A few plants are scattered, on the table lining the wall, in the corner of the hall beside the stairs. A patterned rug lines the hardwood floor.

You take it upon yourself to set up an iron chain circle in the hallway, setting a lantern in the centre for dim light while George and Lockwood explore the kitchen and living room, setting up circles there, too. All of the rooms are the same - warm-toned walls, photos everywhere, soft-cushioned seats, and the soothing scent of lavender and, strangely, bergamot.

"Sixteen degrees in the hall and the kitchen," George calls.

"Fourteen in the lounge," Lockwood replies. "You hear anything yet, (name)?"

"About to try."

Taking a deep breath, your senses begin to fade away until all that's left is silence, thick and heavy. There's nothing, no traces of sound, until... Tapping, like a walking stick on wood. Ever so faint, but persistent, followed by slow shuffling feet.

"I've got something," you say. "Upstairs. Someone walking, using a walking stick."

Lockwood appears from the living room, donning that annoying grin of his. "Perfect. George, you stay down here and monitor the rooms, make sure nothing is down here. We'll go upstairs and see if we can find a source of some kind."

He strides up the stairs, and you follow, making sure to keep your senses open. The tapping is still going, but it's slowly getting louder. There's something more behind it, something you can't pick out.

"Lockwood, wait."

He stops short, turning back to look at you. "Everything alright?"

"Wait here a minute."

You pass him on the stairs, cautiously stepping onto the landing. There are three bedrooms and a bathroom, but one door hangs open slightly. You inch closer, but find yourself pausing a few feet away.

Shouting. It's muffled, but you can hear it well enough. A man and a woman, arguing furiously, and then, a sharp crack, like something being hit. There's a loud cry of pain, and you flinch, stumbling backwards. Then, a cry of anger, the sound of a woman's rage, another loud crack, and, finally, silence.

"(name), what's wrong?" Lockwood's fingers brush your arm, and, usually, you would've scowled and shrugged him off, but to have the comfort of something living nearby calms you a little.

"It's only ever been Mrs Wyatt's family living here, right?"

"That's what George says. Why?"

You swallow the lump in your throat. "I think she missed out on some important details."

"Such as?"

"I think she killed her husband."

Lockwood chokes on air but regains his composure quickly. "What?"

"In her defence, he was an abusive prick, I think. And, if my guess is worth anything, his walking stick is the source."

You're glad that Lockwood doesn't ask you how you know that. Instead, he draws his rapier and checks the temperature outside the bedroom door.

"Nine degrees and falling," he says. "Growing malaise... It's still early for a ghost to be this strong."

"Set up an iron circle outside the door," you suggest. "I'll watch your back, then we can open the door and look in. One of us hunts for the source, the other keeps watch."

"You know," Lockwood says while pulling iron chains out of his bag, "I'm hiring your services. I should be making the plans."

You shrug. "I'm a freelancer. I go by my own rules and strategies. Now, I'm going to go inside and search for the source. Watch my back."

He's about to protest, but you draw your rapier and step into the bedroom before he can.

If not for the chill that cuts straight through you upon stepping into the room, it would have been lovely to see. The walls are a pretty shade of green, and the bed is made - untouched. A massive mahogany wardrobe towers in the corner beside the large window.

"Be careful," Lockwood says from the circle. "There's a deathglow by the wardrobe. It's bright."

Slowly, cautiously, you make your way over to the wardrobe. The scene from earlier replays in your mind, but the tapping of a walking stick has gotten louder. Nothing happens as you inch closer, but dread and tiredness make your limbs heavy - Lockwood was right, it's too early for the malaise to be this strong. It's not even entirely dark outside.

"(name), watch out!"

A chill cuts right by you, and a bright light glows as the ghost, appearing from god knows where, launches itself in your direction. You leap out of the way, falling backwards onto the bed and swiping your rapier in a figure-of-eight motion. Lockwood runs from the iron circle, throwing a salt bomb at the ghost, which disappears momentarily.

He grasps your hand, pulling you off the bed. "At least we know who the ghost is now. Mr Wyatt."

You breathe heavily, eyes widening before you push Lockwood out of the way. The ghost of Mr Wyatt, a middle-aged man - maybe in his late fifties upon his death - dressed in a shirt, dress pants, and a patterned sweater vest, rages over and would've ghost-touched Lockwood if not for you moving him. You duck out of the way, slashing with your rapier again, but the ghost reforms quickly, pushing you backwards.

All of a sudden, your feet are separated from the ground, and you're thrown backwards. Your back slams through the glass of the window, shattering it, and, for a moment, you think you'll fall to the ground, breaking every bone in your body and dying a horrible death.

It would certainly be a way to go, falling from a window, but your fingers latch onto the window frame, pierced by the sharp glass still attached. Your grip is weak, and your arms are shaking badly. The ground is so far below...

"(name)!"

"Get the source!" you shriek, trying not to look down. "Wardrobe!"

"George!" Lockwood shouts.

You can't see much of what's happening, but you can hear it: Lockwood's feet dancing across the ground as he fights off the ghost. As you slowly pull yourself up, not to much avail, you catch a glimpse of him nearing the wardrobe, pursued by a very angry ghost.

"Hurry!" you cry. Blood seeps down your hands, your grip slipping on the window. "Lockwood!"

Another few seconds and you'll fall, but the room is suddenly silent, filled only by Lockwood's heaving breathing. His footsteps hurry over, and then he's leaning out of the window, grasping your arms in a strong grip. He pulls you through the window, and your faces are too close for a moment. You're acutely aware of the warmth of his hands through your jumper, of the sound of his heartbeat, so close, so loud. You swallow hard and stumble out of his grip onto the bed, breathing heavily and trembling.

"Was I right?" you ask, trying to hide your fear. "Was it the walking stick?"

Lockwood pants, sitting on the bed beside you. "You were right."

Heavy footsteps sound on the landing, and then George stands in the doorway. "Did you get the ghost?"

"Yes," Lockwood says, his voice angry. "Where were you?"

"I couldn't hear you," George said. "It was like there was some sound block or something. I've heard of ghosts doing that before."

You take a deep breath. "Either way, it's gone now."

"Thanks to you," Lockwood says. "If not for you, we wouldn't have known what the source was, or where it was."

It hurts a little to stand up. "Long as I get paid, I'm happy. Now, can we get out of this house?"

Lockwood's eyes linger on you a little too long. "Come back to Portland Row with us. We'll get you patched up."

You want to refuse the offer, but your fingers are torn up, bleeding, and there's glass stuck in some parts of your flesh, plus, Portland Row is closer than your flat.

"Fine."

--

It's safe to say that ghost hunting was the best career path for Lockwood - he'd be a shit doctor, to put it simply.

"You don't have to put that much cream on the cuts, you twat. It'll all just squeeze out of the plasters and go all over my hands."

Lockwood's grip on your hand is gentle as he begins applying plasters. "It's supposed to help fight off the chance of infection. Surely more is better."

You groan, but there's not much else you can do. Your other hand has already received the Doctor Lockwood treatment.

You've never really spent this much time this close to Lockwood, but part of you - one you want to tear out, rip up, and burn - doesn't mind it. That part doesn't mind the scent of tea and cheap shampoo, or the feeling of his hand enveloping yours in a grasp so soft that it's barely there.

Get it together, you tell yourself.

You have to remind yourself of why you two don't get on in the first place: the last case you worked on together, the snide remarks made since, but... is it worth keeping that up? Yes, you were hurt, and, yes, it still stings thinking about your trust in him a year ago being betrayed in a way that might seem small to most, but is it really worth keeping it up? All the anger?

Your flatmate has told you on multiple occasions to move on, to forgive, even if you don't forget, and now, watching Lockwood tenderly patch you up as if the last year of arguing and avoidance never existed, you almost want to listen to her.

Lockwood tilts his head up to look at you, and you freeze, having been caught in the act of staring at him. His cocky grin appears, and you groan, looking away.

"Thanks," you say, pulling your plastered hand out of his grip. "I better head home."

Lockwood hesitates. "Why don't you stay? It's late, and it's a half-hour walk to your flat from here. Lucy's room is free."

You scoff. "Today's case may have gone well, but that doesn't mean I want to stay under your roof for the night. You'll probably poison my tea."

"Alright." Part of his tone sounds disappointed, but the expression on his face shows none of the emotion. "I'll get the money sent to you as soon as."

"Good." Standing, you pluck a biscuit from the tin on the kitchen table. "And, uh... Thanks for saving my life."

He grins wide. "Any time."

Hesitating, you watch him for a second longer - the way he moves as he packs away the first aid kit, the way his eyes flick from the table to you.

Something about your relationship has changed. Even now, you no longer feel the burning hatred for him. No, it's simmered down a bit. Now, it's a mild dislike with a touch of... what is that? Admiration? Gratitude? Ew.

"See you around, Lockwood."

"See you, (name). And, again, thank you, for helping with the case."

"It was whatever."

[katethevampire]

All right so the new episodes just came out like 20 minutes ago for me (oh yeah me from the future here it ended up taking me about 3 hours to finish watching the episodes cuz I kept pausing to write stuff in between so uh yeah lol) so everything under the cut will be my live reaction to everything. I'll add time stamps so you know where I'm at in the episodes. I can guarantee you that I will be sticking to my promise about potentially eating paper if I'm wrong about Sir Pentious not dying. Which honestly now I'm not sure if anyone will die, it was pretty much confirmed in a live stream that angel dust isn't going to be the one to die so my money is on one of the Angels. Also I'm using voice to text and while I'll try and fix any misspellings or wrong words I might miss them.

LOTS OF SWEARING PROBABLY also I very much abuse capslock

EPISODE 7

00:51- I love Sir Pentious looking at Keke I just thought I should mention that

01:03- OH MY GOD NO KEKE MOVED TO HIS LAP AND HE'S PETTING HER I LOVE HIM SM

01:10 aw Alastor was sleepy you guys woke him up!

01:22- I CAN'T EVEN APPRECIATE RAZZLE AND DAZZLE BEING CUTE CHARLIE IS CRYING

01:29- he did the gay little hand thing

01:50- okay so I've already seen this part because of the small leak but I cannot get over the fact that Alastor has his shoes on the bed!! Like man take those off you're getting it dirty!!!!

01:59- mfs kicking his feet on the bed acting like a high school girl about to ask out her crush on the phone at a sleepover like dude you're a serial killer you can't do this to me 😭 also I should probably slow down cuz I'm making an update literally every 2 seconds

02:18 BROS CHECKING HIS NAILS AND DOING THAT POSE WHILE MAKING FUN OF HER ABOUT THE FACT THAT SHE UNINTENTIONALLY MIGHT HAVE CAUSED THE DEATHS OF MILLIONS 💀💀💀 so fruity i love

2:33- Alasto be like "it's called masking deary. Ever heard of it?"

2:44- if he wasn't saying this in such an evil manner right now I'd be saying he's so me frfr

3:07- what do I even say to that line. He popped off but also like respectfully I think I've heard a third grader say the exact same thing

3:53- OKAY SO I WAS GOING TO SAY SOMETHING BUT I'VE COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN LOOK AT THIS FRAME, this could easily be the profile picture for someone's film review channel and I'm not 100% sure that people will understand what I mean by that unless you know a very specific person

04:38- Alastor is in his hat man era

4:33- okay so a few things, thank you subtitles for telling me that the music is edgy I feel like just the word tense would have worked on its own but I appreciate it nonetheless. Number two, I don't like seeing the girlies be mad at each other :(

05:34 I will support my boy Sir Pentious through and through he did nothing wrong!!

06:54- not the voice I was expecting for Rosie but pop up Queen she speaks the truth

07:24- ROSIE KNOWS WHAT YOU ARE ALASTOR. Also his confusion, I love him so much

11:04- she's kind of like that one Pokemon

Ad time!- I DON'T CARE ABOUT VITAMIN PILLS THAT DOUBLE MY LIFESPAN

11:13- catabettes! Cannibals and catabettes!!! This is going into my vocabulary from now on. Also this frame that I paused at I love her face.

11:57- ugh, susan. All my homies hate Susan

12:54- I have a dream, I'm here to cause a scandal in the cannibal square

13:37- :( well it wasn't obvious to me I just thought the x over the eye was to look cool :(

14:35- SONG FUCK YEAH

15:26 If this song came out years ago I know for a fact there would have been an undertale parody version of it. Also I just got a cosmic brownie and some chocolate milk let's go guys we're eating good tonight

16:00 HOLY FUCKING SHIT SHE CAN JUST GROW BACK HER WINGS

16:30- therapist Rosie is not something I thought I'd be seeing today but honestly I love it. Also I don't think I'm going to be able to finish these episodes today because I'm only a little over 15 minutes through and I've been watching for like almost over half an hour and also I just realized that what if Lucifer is the one that dies?

18:12 ALASTOR GAVE HER HIS MICROPHONE I'M GOING TO EXPLODE INTO A BAJILLION CRYING PIECES RAHHHHHH

19:38 I'm going crazy I'm going insane right now bro literally what how I don't know what to say I love this act I don't know, it's just really good I don't know what to say like this is cool I don't I DON'T KNOW! IT'S I I LIKE IT everybody in cannibal town is cool and I like them and it's like 10 seconds later now and they're literally So based like free food like so me I don't know I'm just rambling at this point

20:56 ALASTOR AND ROSIE'S LITTLE DANCE THEIR LITTLE TIPPY TAPS OH MY GOD YES

21:06- alastor, you know it's not right to make someone your political puppet. Your little dances are cute though so I'll allow it for now.

I don't know why it thought I was speaking Spanish for a second but anyways that episode was really cute and good and I liked it but I'm also scared for the next episode cuz like now I'm wondering is someone actually going to die or were people just lying. I feel like either Adam is going to be the one to die or it's going to be Lucifer cuz they mentioned a lot in the previous episode about how Charlie needs to take up the throne and get ready to take her place on the throne like why does she need to take her place on the throne? Isn't that her dad's job??? Please don't kill Lucifer off please please please 🙏 also I'm still not on board and probably will never will be on the whole political puppet thing. Like I just know I just have a feeling in my bones that alastor's favor is going to be something like "Let me be the ruler of hell lololol" or something anyways

EPISODE 8

01:01-Why are you watching other men get fucked?🤨 (/j)

01:19 🥺 I love 🥺 I oove him so 🥺 so much 🥺🥺🥺 does he have a spatula like spongebob

02:02- wait so how is Vox watching them like does he have bug cameras in the air like those little guys in v3 (woah now I have to put a Danganronpa spoiler on this)

03:42 SOFT ALASTOR FANFICTION WRITERS QUICK WRITE THAT DOWN WRITE THAT DOWN!!!

04:18- I'm not even the biggest huskerdust shipper but awwwww also I don't ship him with anyone but I just want to see Sir Pentious happy pleaseeee also the little Melody of loser baby in the background

04:48- ugh I am clutching my heart right now Sir Pentious is my SON and I LOVE HIM

04:58- what the fuck that ao3 tag was canon this WHOLE TIME???? WHEN DID YOU GUYS HEAR ABOUT THIS?????

05:05- I told you angel dust wasn't going to die

05:38- it's like the song but different! Reprise it's called a reprise also is Mimzy gonna come back

07:15- Vox, you know that you guys are going to die if they lose too right?

Okay I can't timestamp this cuz I'll just be pausing every 2 seconds but just know that everything I'm saying after this is from 07:52 to whatever number I put after later right here->09:47

Okay, so this might be a weird comparison but you know like My Little pony Battle scenes? This feels like that in the very best way possible where they have the scenes with all the different characters fighting with the different music.

Oh my God yes Cherry bomb and angel dust I love them also that was a fire transition also I JUST NOTICED THAT SIR PENTIOUS HAT ALSO HAS THE EYE DOES HE JUST HAVE I HATS FOR EVERY OCCASION

Uh oh Adams angry he's going to do a my hero academia

Oh shit it actually worked that's not good.

I TOLD YOU I CALLED IT VOX IS HORNY

Oh my God that is such a cool shot guys someone should make that frame of Alastor their computer background

OH MY GOD WHOEVER ANIMATED THAT SCENE I LOVE YOU I'M LITERALLY GIVING YOU A METAPHORICAL KISS ON THE MOUTH IN THE PLATONIC SENSE ALASTOR LOOKED SO COOL

Guys I think Adam's going to die

😨 okay so Alastor's microphone just broke and I paused it to add that emoji but as I did the people I live with got home so I'm going to have to pause it for there? I'll update if I get prime working on my phone. Also isn't alastor's microphone alive? Maybe that's the character that died.

Update: all right I got it set up on my phone about 30 minutes later now we're resuming

09:47- okay so I think it's interesting that Alastor pretty much lost all his powers as soon as his microphone broke, my guess is probably that whoever has his soul (lilith, eve, or anyone else) gave the mic to him.

09:53- I like the detail that Alastor is still smiling even though he literally just got slammed against the wall, also Vox has the biggest hate boner for Alastor like

10:02- Alastor: "Have to disagree with you there, radio's not dead." Hun you are bleeding out I'm sorry but I don't think you can gaslight girlboss your way out of this one, also I'm sorry to tell you but the only thing they play on my local radio station now besides music is like, a show that's only on at like 7 in the morning where people call to complain about how their husband wraps Christmas presents

10:38- haha silly also EGGS!!

10:43- NO WAIT MY BRAIN DIDN'T REGISTER THAT THAT EGG WAS CRACKED THEY KILLED THE FUCKING EGG!!!!!! Angel, kill them.

11:12- no no no Sir Pentious you better not I don't want to eat paper

11:21- good for him

11:44- NO GOD DAMN IT PLEASE HAVE A REVEAL THAT ALASTOR OR LUCIFER OR SOMEONE ELSE SAVED HIM PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏 I AM BEGGING ON MY HANDS AND KNEES

12:03- okay this is really cool but is he actually dead cuz I'll legitimately be really sad if so

12:50- *that one vine* "*gasp* Adam."

13:23- KILL HIS ASS CHARLIE

14:12 yes Vaggie, queen shit

SIR PENTIOUS ARE YOU DEAD /J OR /SRS?????

14:35 I KNEW IT I KNOW HE WAS GOING TO COME BACK I MEAN I GOT KIND OF SPOILED CUZ I I SAW THE COVER OF THE EPISODE BUT WOAH 10/10 ENTRANCE

14:44- gasp! His face!

15:00- he is, so stupid. I love him.

15:51-okay I went quiet for a minute cuz there were so much happening but oh my God what do I even say this is just so cool also I don't know if this is intentional or not but the blood stain on Charlie's hair is shaped like an apple

16:34- NIFFTY RAHHHHHHH

17:08- wait okay I had a brief thought that maybe lute was actually Eve but I think I'm wrong on that

17:13- Sir Pentious would've liked pancakes :((((((

Ad Time! I don't care about hard Rock Cafe I just want to know whether or not Sir Pentious is actually dead please I'm going through all the stages of grief right now and Brandan Rogers just came on my screen as Katie killjoy please

18:04- Keke :(

Oh my God they're going to find him in the rubble right? ... Right?? Right guys right???????

18:10- fat nuggets survived that's good I see a rock that looks suspiciously shaped like Sir Pentious military hat whoa guys I wonder if that means anything and it looks like it's up like someone is standing? Whoa I wonder if they'll check behind that rock please

18:16- wait is he actually dead I'm genuinely about to cry

19:16- I am not crying about his death until the episode ends I am not crying until it is 100% CONFIRMED that he died

20:50- omg alastor's alive, he's in his Jack's skeleton era that means that maybe Sir Pentious is also-

21:08- friends :) he said friends just saying

22:04- I TOLD YOU I FUCKING TOLD YOU I TOLD YOU THAT BY DYING IT WAS JUST A CHARACTER BEING REDEEMED I TOLD YOU I'M SO SMART I'M NOT EATING PAPER HAHAHAHAHA I'M THE GREATEST MAN ALIVE HE'S NOT DEAD MY SNAKE BOY ISN'T DEAD HOW DID I GET SO ATTACHED TO HIM I DON'T KNOW BUT I LOVE HIM YES I CAN'T EXPRESS MY EMOTIONS RIGHT NOW I'M GENUINELY SO HAPPY THIS IS WHY THIS IS WHY I WAITED UNTIL THE VERY END TO CRY ABOUT HIM I KNEW HE WASN'T GOING TO BE DEAD THEY WOULDN'T KILL HIM OFF THEY WOULDN'T KILL MY SNAKE BOY OFF JUST LIKE THAT

22:34- you're telling me Lilith was just doing hot girl shit on the beach for 7 years.

[trrickytickle]

The Best Medicine

A/N: this One Piece tickle fic was actually inspired by the awesome likes of @looking-for-laughs, who writes a LOT of great ff (underated) and her lee!chopper love HEHEHEH. u can see my applause and salute for her in my posts (she even inspired me to stop shitposting HEH. but liek idk i jsut had that dawg in me to write tk fic)

Being part human, part reindeer- and shunned by both, Chopper isn't familiar with a lot of human concepts. However, he has Hiriluk, his mentor, to guide him... basically, he learns what tickling is.

“Hey! H-HEY!! Don’t go! I’m r-really sorry!”

The pleads of the old quack Dr Hiriluk were accompanied by uproarious laughter and shuffles of the Drum Island snow. His latest unwilling “patient” had ingested a (very, very, very, very, very) experimental instantaneous hypothermia relief cure, keeling over like he had been hit by a gas attack- however this time, strained chuckles were being forced out of his throat. Running from his patient, Hiriluk dashed past the ailing town into the small stump, free from sickness of the king’s heart, in the depths of the outskirts of Drum, where he had resided in to continue his illicit passion. The rattling of the tinctures in his briefcase came to a halt as he stopped at the humble front door, and with a small creak and the squishy stomp of half-human hooves, it opened.

“Welcome back, Doctor.” greeted Chopper, the plaster on his injuries coming apart- most of which around his waist and torso had been removed as they healed. The old man inched closer to him, adjusting the gauze as he rambled.

“My patient ran away, I’m telling you! He ran!! I swear- one second ago I was hearing him laugh, and the other, I thought he’d have ran up the Drum Rockies with how far he went!”

”What do you MEAN, “again”, blue nose!?” Hiriluk scolded, Chopper scowling and flailing in response.

”Again?” replied the reindeer, only to be greeted with a clobber to the head.

”Don’t call me blue nose!”

The two almost broke out into fisticuffs, but their good consciences made the fighting stopped at an abrupt halt. Catching his breath, Hiriluk continued rambling frustratedly, pacing across the lignen floors.

”See, Chopper- I was so sure of it! The serum was meant to increase body temperature!” he explained, while continuing to tend to the reindeer’s injuries. “I thought it’d fix his hypothermia, b-but it ended up tickling him! I was so sure…”

The reindeer’s ears perked up at the sound of the new word. Some human thing, he thought…

But what was it- this… tickling?

”What’s that?” Chopper tilted his head- with a genuine, inquisitive curiosity, looking up at Hiriluk.

"What?"

"What's "tickling"?" he asked. The question was innocuous- but the old quack squinted, furrowing his brow and pacing, struggling to find words. There were mutters and murmurs of "erm" and "um", the explanation being on the tip of his tongue but not coming out of his mouth. Hiriluk had a way with words- often to motivate and innovate, but even he, a great doctor in Chopper's eyes, was stumped- but not for long.

"It's a funny feeling." He stated. "But it's also strange… It's so funny that you'll laugh to your heart's content, but it feels… indescribable."

"Indescribable?"

"So you're not describing anything." replied Chopper.

"I can't just explain it to you." Hiriluk shrugged. "I'd describe it as indescribable."

The old man was taken aback, a stutter in his voice. "Let me show you." Chopper nodded, as he sat down, scooping the reindeer in his lap and apprehensively traced at his coat. "I'll try my best to be careful around your wou-"

Immediately, he started to giggle lightly, twitching with each trace and stifling it with a smile. It was funny- not in a humorous sense, but strange, certainly- but why was he laughing? Why did he want to laugh?

"It's strange! It's really strange!" Chopper pleaded at the bony, clumsy hands of his mentor, twisting around, to which Hiriluk gave a concerned look.

"Try not to make your bandages come apart, Chopper. Your wounds will show."

"B-ahaha-But it feels really strange!" he shrilled, kicking his legs as spritely laughter burst out as clumsy fingers tried to be careful aroundd the plaster covering the deep scrapes of determination. Hiriluk smiled, delighting in scratching lightly at Chopper's fluffy midsection, before stopping to face him.

"You're ticklish. That's why it's strange."

Chopper patted the sensitive area, catching his breath. "Are all humans like this?"

"Most." Hiriluk explained. "Or so they say. Everyone's weak somewhere. Even when someone says they aren't, they probably are. It can be on the tips of their ears-" he said, grazing the area (which only turned out to be bothersome) "or the back of their knees-" which he scratched at, causing Chopper's hoof to flail in recoil- "but there are exceptions. And you're not one of them." The doctor continued, tracing, poking, swirling one finger around different areas- those typical for a tickly feeling to take shape. The fur on the bottom of his front and back hooves was particularly sensitive, causing the reindeer's hidden laughter to spill out.

"Ahaha-ha-HA! Th-thihis… hehe-HAHA!"

"It tickles, doesn't it?" Hiriluk replied.

"Yeah! -hah- Yeah, that!"

"It tickles! It's tickling- you're tickling!" Chopper minced the sentence, yet still meaning his plead. Hiriluk smiled, stopping his less gentle approach when he realised the reindeer's erratic movements were hindering the healing of his injury- an injury he had deeply tended to. However, in this moment, the injury in his heart was quelled.

The incentive caused him to be slightly more inquisitive, yet still cautious of Chopper, who was squealing and kicking at every light fiddle of fingers under his fluffy chin- unusually weak- and tweak of bony hands at his sides, which made him shriek, and the skittering of digits under his knees- feeling, but not knowing. He'd stopped asking questions. Quackery, the reindeer called it. This was magic. A strange, tingly, funny, feely, magic.

"It does, doesn't it?" Hiriluk replied, smiling while switching back to the gentle grazes and cautious concern. "Well, you know what they say, laughter is the best medicine."

"Wow..." Chopper exclaimed. "That was funny... and fun!"

Chopper's laughter went up several octaves- so high that it went silent, and that was the quack doctor's cue to stop. Allowing his apprentice to catch his breath, he set him down.

Uproarious and anguished, almost suffocated laughter could be heard from who Hiriluk recognized as a previous patient.

"Not for him." he said...

...then immediately after, a metaphorical lightbulb appeared over Hiriluk's head, as he dramatically proclaimed-

Chopper couldn't help but agree a little- it was admittedly quite enjoyable.

"Laughter... medicine..." He put his finger up, pointing with the passion of a pirate. "This could be a remedy for the kingdom... Yes! Yes, it can!"

/////////

Chopper rolled around on the deck of the Going Merry, Luffy and Usopp noodling pathetically beside him.

"HA-hahaha-ha HA! Don't tickle me! Robin, you bastard! Idiot!" the reindeer laughed while hands tickled the trio to tears. The appendages protruding through Luffy's torso tormented his tummy to no end, while six hands spidered Usopp's sides, springing from the planks of Merry. Finally, they let up, and Robin looked over from her book, setting it down on her deck-chair to leave an affectionate pat on Chopper's head.

"Y-you bastard! Don't call me cute after torturing me!" he yelled. "I hate it! It doesn't make me happy, not at all! Idiot!"

"Cute." she commented, as the reindeer puffed up, fuming flusteredly- and breaking out into a small, shy dance, blushing.

[elvisabutler]

heyy can u write something about austin and the reader going over to the readers family and they’re showing austin and the reader old baby pictures of the reader and one comes up when she’s naked as a baby and her family takes it out thinking she’d be embarrassed and reader makes a joke about how “it’s nothing austin hasn’t seen before” but then she realizes what she is and her little cousins are confused and her family makes fun of them and stuff idk

now i've seen it all

summary: you go to a family dinner to introduce your new boyfriend austin to your family- finally- and well your mouth moves a little quicker than your brain does. rating: t at best. this is supremely tame for me. word count: 1224 warnings: none? it's talking about baby pictures that are naked but like i have those we all have those and they're fine. hell i have like two of my daughter because she was a silly girl in her infant bathtub when she could start sitting up in it. author's note: first off, thank you for this request, anon. it's actually super cute and i could picture it happening so well. second off, we're going for a non celeb reader because it's low key a little fun to write.

Dating Austin Butler was not on your to do list for 2021, nor was it on your to do list for 2022 and yet here you were a year into a relationship with an actor of all people. You figured this sort of thing only happened in fanfiction and maybe the movies. To have it happen in real life was a little mind boggling especially when it came to you, but what were you supposed to do when he came in regularly to the restaurant you worked at while filming Masters of Air. What's a girl to do when a guy isn't creepy and slips his number in with his signed credit card receipt.

One thing had led to another and then another and you found yourself with half your closet taken up by Austin's clothes and whispers of "maybe we'll move to Anaheim when I'm not booked solid, baby." You like the idea even if the idea of leaving all you've ever known behind is daunting.

Still, Austin has never met your family, has never met the crowd of people you come from who shaped you into the woman you are today and well- it's been a year and they deserve it. He deserves it so when he told you he had two weeks off from filming Dune 2 and you were able to get a bit of time off at work with some bribing and promises of being willing to cover way more shifts than you should have offered to cover you had the time to go visit your family for you think it's someone's birthday. Honestly, all the holidays and birthday blend together after a while and sometimes your family would just want to celebrate for kicks and giggles anyway.

You should have known that your family were going to do something to embarass you but you had thought that maybe just maybe you might escape it this once.

"Austin!" Your mother exclaimed, grabbing a book that you almost didn't recognize until you realized that it's a book filled with your baby pictures. "Come here, I want to show you these pictures! See what my baby looked like as an actual baby."

Austin looks at you and has what you can only describe as an evil smirk on his face before he practically skips over to your mother. "I'd love to see them." He pauses and plops right down next to your mom. "She never likes telling me stories about her as a baby."

Your feet feel heavy as you follow him and plop down on the other side of your mother, your leg bouncing because you're more than a little nervous at what pictures your mother is going to bust out. Austin's eyes meet yours over your mom's head as she's turning pages and he smiles softly trying his best to be reassuring. His lips mouth something that looks like "I love you" before turning his focus to your mother and the pictures she's showing him. Your brain sort of tunes her out for a bit as you focus on your younger cousins and nieces and nephews before you hear something about you being naked and running around the house and that jolts you awake so to speak. "Wait mom- what are-"

Austin's laugh reaches your ears before you have a chance to even see the photo as your eyes dart between him and your mom before your hand goes to grab the photo. "Oh no, babe this is- you've- you're literally running around with nothing on and your mom chasing after you with a towel."

"It's harmless sweetheart, he deserves to see how silly you were back then, running around naked like that's a thing you can do." Your mom reasons, as you try and grab the photo from her hand only to be swatted away.

You'll blame what you said later on the fact that Austin is looking at you with the sort of love you thought only existed in movies and books and the fact that your mother is practically cackling at your slight discomfort. Or it was just because you wanted to see her embarrassed not just you.

"I mean it's nothing Austin hasn't already seen before a million times over. He's even chased me with a towel before."

Those sentences causes everyone to freeze from the smallest of your cousins and nieces and nephews to your- oh dear god your grandmother. Austin has the decency to bite his lip to try and stop himself from laughing until the moment when your five year old niece pipes up with her own take on the matter.

"What does that mean, mama? Why is Uncle Austin chasing auntie around?"

You would like the floor to swallow you whole right in that moment. You feel the heat of embarrassment just settle into your bones and you sink into the couch just a little. Her mother saves the day by murmuring something into her ear with a glare at you and just like that the moment is broken and you're left to hear every single adult make a comment teasing you.

"In front of the kids!"

"We all know you do it but time and a place!"

"Didn't realize you two got up to such hankie pankie!"

By the end of it Austin is snickering, your mother is snickering and you have become one with the couch when you hear your father say something about dinner being ready and oh thank god, you can be free of this talk. You practically leap off the couch only to be caught by Austin wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close once he stands up. He's behind you and can't help but give you a kiss on the top of your head before he leans down to whisper in your ear.

"You were cute back then. Might want to not mention our sexual escapades next time you see a pic like that." He pauses and looks around before nipping at your earlobe. "Besides, your mom was about to get to pictures of you swimming and we both know how you are in a pool. I'll make this up to you later."

Your mom looks behind and sees the two of you and how you're standing and gives you a knowing look before eyeing the children running around. You nod and sigh. "Later, Aus."

He scrunches up his nose before moving to grab your hand. "Thank you. For having me come with you."

You shift your positions so that when you watch into the kitchen you're curled under his arm. "You're becoming my family, sort of have to introduce you to my actual family when that happens. Besides, figured you'd enjoy the chaos."

"I do." He chuckles. "Next time I have the chance I'll get together with my dad and sister and- my family meeting you."

There a soft laugh that bubbles up before you have a chance to stop it. "What's after that? You proposing?"

He shrugs and holds you a little tighter before eyeing the two left over open seats. "Maybe. Would you say yes?"

Your answer is simple as you sit down.

"Maybe."

[fitrahgolden]

WEARY MEMORY: 10 - BEHIND A BOX OF PICTURES

“So. Are you happy with it?”

Kate stood behind Anthony as he sat at his writing desk–his old writing desk, that was now his current writing desk again.

It was a confusing time for Anthony, when it came to naming his possessions.

He technically still had the townhouse, but it had recently been listed for sale, and he and the kids were almost completely moved out of it. The boys had seemingly had no hard feelings about leaving, but Kaveri went into a full mourning period over losing one of her bedrooms. The six year old demanded everyone at least say goodbye to it properly–with written eulogies–after throwing a fit when she learned that the beloved room couldn't be excluded from the rest of the house in the sale.

As eager as Anthony had been to move back into the house he and Kate bought together when they were engaged, he found it wasn't always easy to remember all the things in it that were his again. His half of the closet, his bathroom sink, his seat at the dining table, his side of the bed.

His writing desk.

He sat at it now, having just read through the approval copy of Enough to Go Around with his wife. Well, his ex-wife, who was also his fiancée. A confusing time, indeed. The book was aimed at teaching children that love doesn't divide as a family grows, but multiplies. The lesson was taught from the perspective of a rotund pet corgi named Smithsonian.

“It's what I would have named him if I'd gotten a say.”

“Well, thank God you didn't.”

Anthony ran his hand over the cover as he considered Kate's question. Written by A. E. Sharma-Bridgerton. Illustrated by K. K. Sharma-Bridgerton.

Just as it always should be, he thought with a smile.

“Well?” Kate implored, shaking his shoulders playfully.

Anthony grabbed one of her hands, kissed it, and held onto it. “I think it's perfect.”

“Good, because it is,” Kate agreed. “However…” She stepped around Anthony and turned so she was leaning back against the desk beside him. She raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

Kate sucked her teeth as she nodded toward the book. “Are we gonna talk about how this is most definitely a Newton book and definitely not a Maan book? Because you know that boy isn't going to think this counts as his book. He's not even on the cover.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Yours. I did a version with him on the cover. You vetoed it in favour of this one.”

“Right.” Anthony sighed out a soft laugh and ran a hand over his face. “Yeah… That kind of just…happened.”

Kate gave him a supercilious look. He wanted to kiss it off of her.

“What? I'll write Maan another book.”

“It's not that.” She looked entirely too pleased with herself.

“What, then?”

“I knew you were going to love Newton.”

“Ah.” He thought back to the disparaging remarks he'd made about the dog when Kate first told Anthony about him.

“You claimed you had no interest in even cuddling him, and yet, here you are, having written a whole damn book about him.”

Anthony waved a dismissive hand that landed on Kate's thigh. “It's thirty-two pages,” he shrugged.

Kate leaned toward him until their faces were inches apart. “A whole. Damn. Book.”

Anthony angled his chair more towards her so he could pull her into his lap.

“Don't think Newton won't be there at the book signings with an ink pad for his paw. People won't even know you're there.”  Her sentences came out in fragments between kisses.

“What time is it?” Anthony murmured as he played with the hem of Kate's shirt.

“One of us needs to go get the kids.”

“That's not what I asked.”

“No, but it's the answer to the question you should have asked,” she laughed. “You or me? Technically, it's your turn.”

Anthony said nothing as he splayed his hand across Kate's back under her shirt. His other hand got lost in her hair, tugging it loose from its ponytail.

“Anthony.” It was a moan, spurring him on.

Finally, as his kisses descended towards her cleavage, he felt the familiar, pleasant sting of her grip on his hair, stilling him. Reluctantly, Anthony looked up at her, his roguish smile his last attempt to distract her.

“You or me?” she asked again, slowly.

“Mmm.” He wrapped his arms around her as he thought about it. “How about both? Let's go out, celebrate the book being basically done. Someplace we can take Newton.”

“Oh, my God. You love him!” Kate gushed, her eyes wide with glee, before kissing him hard on the cheek.

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Don't get carried away. It's only right he participates. He is on the cover, after all.”

—

That night, Kate crawled under the covers and snuggled up against Anthony. As usual, he was in bed before her. He'd always gotten in bed before her.

Not everything needs to change, she smiled as she thought to herself.

“What?” Anthony asked, poking her cheek.

“Nothing,” she sighed. “Thank you for always keeping the bed warm.”

“I was under the impression that was the only reason you let me move back in.”

She sucked her teeth and smacked his chest.

“Speaking of,” Anthony said, “when are we going to get around to actually planning this wedding?”

After breaking the news to their families, news that was met with an overwhelming amount of joy and support, Kate and Anthony's focus turned to merging their households back together. The wedding itself was placed on the back burner, much to the chagrin of Kaveri, who was eager to “throw flowers at” her parents.

But the move was more or less done, so it made sense to get down to the business of becoming one family unit again–legally.

Kate shrugged, “Wanna start now?”

“Well, how can I not, when met with such enthusiasm?”

Kate laughed. “I'm sorry. Obviously, I want to get married–”

“Again, so keen.”

“But… Would you be terribly offended if I said I have very few thoughts on the wedding itself?” She looked up at Anthony, wincing until she realised he was smiling.

“Christ, not at all. I don't want a big production.”

“Mmm, good. That isn't to say I don't want a wedding at all.”

“Of course not. Kav would be devastated. For weeks, she's been telling everyone at school that she's ‘giving’ us a wedding.”

“Then a wedding she shall give us.” Kate ran her hands lazily across Anthony’s chest as she thought. “Where?”

“Aubrey Hall?”

“Aubrey Hall, by the pond. Time of day?”

“Afternoon.”

“Yes. Ceremony at four, high tea at five.”

“High tea,” Anthony repeated. “Will there also be dancing?”

“We must. Again–”

“Kav,” they said in unison.

Kate squeezed Anthony tighter as their laughter faded. “Oh, guest list?”

Anthony looked up to the ceiling. “Um… Less than thirty? Family and just a few friends. The kids can invite their best mates if they want.”

Kate hummed in agreement.

“Will you wear a pretty white dress?”

Kate kissed Anthony on the cheek. “I'll wear a pretty white dress.”

“This is easy. When are we doing this? Have we really not even picked a date?”

“We haven't. We're being awfully lazy about this.”

“I know what the problem is.”

“There's a problem?” Kate looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

Anthony nodded. “A big one.”

Kate sat up, unsure if he was joking or not. She looked at him for a few moments, and when he didn't elaborate, she nudged his shoulder. “You can't say there's a ‘big problem’ and then nothing else, you maniac.”

“My apologies,” Anthony chuckled. “It's my fault. There's something I need to do before we can move forward with any of these wedding plans in earnest.”

“Oh?”

“I never re-proposed to you.”

With that, Anthony slid out of bed.

“Anthony?” perplexed, Kate kept her eyes on him as he walked around to her side of the bed and kneeled.

Wordlessly, he pulled her to him by the back of her neck until their lips met in a thorough kiss. So absorbed in the kiss was Kate, that she didn't notice Anthony undoing the clasp of her necklace. She gasped softly as the chain slid off and onto the bed.

Anthony carefully gathered the gold links in his hand, pulled Kate's original engagement ring off of them, and set the rest of the jewellery on the nightstand.

“Kit, I am helpless to find the right words to describe the gratitude I feel to be in this position, to be chosen by you again.”

Kate blew out a big breath as she willed tears to stay put at the corners of her eyes.

“I'm proud of us, and I hope you are, too. It's a brave thing we're doing, admitting our mistakes, trusting each other to learn from them, and grow closer and stronger because of them. I promise to keep us headed in the right direction. I'll make sure we never get turned around again. Will you let me do that? Will you marry me, Kit?”

Words were eluding her, but she didn't want a second to go by without answering, so she nodded profusely. Anthony was putting the ring back where it belonged on her finger when she finally uttered the syllable.

“Yes.”

Kate pulled Anthony off his knees and back onto the bed. Then she climbed on top of him and promptly started removing all their pesky clothing.

It hadn't even occurred to her, the fact that neither one of them had actually proposed. It wasn't necessary, really. But, goodness, it had filled her with so much love, and hope, and what she could only describe as bliss. Suddenly, it was like she had never wanted Anthony more than she did at that moment. And she had him, like he had her, and they knew better now than to ever let go again.

—

After they settled into bed for the second time that night, Anthony intertwined their fingers on his chest. 

“Do you want a new ring?”

Kate looked at the simple solitaire diamond on her finger. Anthony felt no desire to replace it, but he would in a heartbeat if that's what she wanted. 

“No,” she said, with no trace of uncertainty. “No, I want the ring you gave me while we were hiding from your family in the old tree house in Kent.”

Anthony laughed, remembering his first proposal. It'd happened sixteen years ago, during a weekend visit to Aubrey Hall. “Ben and Colin were determined to sabotage my big speech. It was the only safe place.”

“I didn't complain then, and I'm not complaining now,” Kate whispered.

“Good,” he whispered back.

Minutes of silence passed, and Anthony thought Kate might have fallen asleep, until he heard her clear her throat.

“There's something I should say, as well.”

“Is that right?”

“Mm-hmm.” Kate turned in his arms to face him, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“Go on, then.”

“I'm pregnant.”

—

[this-is-krikkit]

For the drabble challenge your grace, I request number 29. I was going to pick something much worse but I thought I'd be nice this time :)

send me a number (and a ship/character) and i'll write a drabble

thank you for: the prompt, calling me your grace (i will be requesting that you do so all the time from now on though, cheh), and for picking something nice (although now i def want you to send me the worse one!!!). know that this almost went somewhere really, really dark, but drunk me decided against it.

The Poll

Prompt 29. How is my wife more badass than me?

Tags: levihan, actor AU, the 104th kids, silliness

now edited and posted on ao3

The SNK panel is going well so far, although it's the last day of the convention and even Hange and Conny's social batteries are running low -Levi's has been empty since the end of the first morning, to no one's surprise- but they're pushing through bravely. Only a few more hours before they can all head back to their homes, and Levi can recharge -and take care of Hange as she goes through her usual post-convention depression.

"Hange," the host calls out, finally leaving a red-faced Armin alone after a round of merciless questions about his character's newly revealed romantic arc, "you were elected most badass character from the latest special episode in a fans poll, outvoting even Levi and Mikasa's characters. We've talked about that amazing last fighting scene of course, but I don't think I've heard you describe that emotional goodbye with Levi before. How was it filming that goodbye scene?"

Hange doesn't immediately reply, and Levi can tell they're uncomfortable although they've all been briefed and Hange okayed this topic. He understands their unease as he absolutely hates having to rethink about their last moments on set -well, last until their fleeting appearance in the last part of the season, but the fans don't know that yet- and so for once, he's the one who speaks up and switches the topic.

"Oi, what did they say you beat me at?" he asks, turning to Hange but speaking in his microphone so everyone hears him.

"Most badass character, babe," Hange replies with a thankful grin, flicking her short hair back.

People, both fans and castmates, laugh at the exaggerated gesture.

"Are you guys kidding? How the f- hell is my wife more badass than me here?" he asks, glaring at the crowd and host in the typical way his character is famous for. "She threw herself to her death and left me half to go on and fight my ape arch nemesis and that giant bony monstrosity when I was still half dead and missing parts of my dominant hand-

"Well, as your character said, Levi, two fingers is all you need," she interrupts.

She winks at him -well, blinks, but he's learned to read through her attempts by now- and he prays he's not blushing as hard as he does every time Hange unexpectedly flirts with him in public, even years after they've made their relationship public. Someone -Eren, that's gotta be this shithead Eren- whistles suggestively, and Levi takes a deep breath in before clearing his throat.

"Anyway, my character is the most badass, period. Yours isn't even on the show anymore."

Hange laughs as a few shocked gasps escape the audience.

"Don't hold it against him, folks, Levi's still a little shaken up by that scene," she explains.

"Was it a difficult moment for you to film as well, Levi?" the panelist attacks again.

Levi looks down, then sideways at Hange, and the smile on her face falters as she hears his silent plea to get him out of there.

"Well, it was interesting as actors to portray feelings those characters don't usually display," she starts, "and it was a challenge to do justice to this particular scene. One I hope we lived up to, although from what i've seen in some tweets-

"To be fair, you guys were exhausted by the time they finally called that scene a wrap," Jean interrupts on Levi's other side.

"Why? Did it take long to shoot?" the host asks now, clearly desperate to finally get a reply to at least one of their questions.

Eren laughs, and the rest of the cast has a smile on their face they all try to hide when Levi loudly clicks his tongue at him.

"Oh, come on. I can say it, Hange, right?" he asks, although he sounds a bit less sure than his usual self.

And to Levi's horror, Hange simply chuckles and nods.

"Yeah, go ahead. It's probably going in the bloopers anyway."

Eren sighs in relief, and Levi hides his face into his arms as he awaits his fate.

"I was behind the camera watching them acting this scene out since it was one of my favorite moment from the script," Eren picks up in his most dramatic tone, "and it took them hours to get it right. But not just because one of them cried or messed up their lines, no... the real recurring problem was, those two kept ending it with a goodbye kiss! And since Hange was supposed to fly away right after her last line and that kiss wasn't scripted at all, they had to redo it over and over again, while our director was pulling at his own hair and yelling at them to stop making out!'

The crowd erupts into a chorus of laughter and exicted squeals, and the other cast members join in as they remember that day on set.

"I'm going to kill you, Jaeger," Levi says as he sits back up.

"Hey! No spoilers, old man," the young star retorts.

Hange snorts out a laugh, and Levi stares daggers at her instead. All she does is put her hand on his knee under the table, squeezing gently, and he doesn't pay attention to whoever is getting tortured now.

He only looks into Hange's eyes, glad to finally be rid of that damned eye patch prop she's had to keep on for the last season and loved a little too much -and is most definitely planning to steal from the set, he bets- and can only thank the universe that this is all fiction and his Hange's alive and well by his side.

[alexisaflop]

On my mind - Steve Harrington x Reader

Been reading fanfiction, wanted to write something :) not what i normally do on this account but it's fun and I've missed it. anyway im a basic bitch who loves Steve Harrington so I guess that's what's coming first??

Set after the events of Season 2, after the reader saves Steve from a demo-dog. The reader is Dustin's sibling and chats with Steve whilst they wait for him to get ready.

Warnings: brief canon-typical violence, nightmares, literally just pure fluff

Henderson! reader, gnc! reader

2222 words

Had a lot of fun writing this, so let me know if you want anything else from this show :)

You watched as your little brother Dustin frustratedly styled his hair, rerunning the comb through and then inevitably changing his mind moments later.

"Stop watching me, Y/N, this is very delicate work," he exclaimed, closing the bathroom door behind him.

You receded into the living room, trying not to laugh at the antics of your brother. His crush on Max was cringy to watch, but it was classic middle school. Just as you had coaxed Mews 2 to sit with you, you hear a car outside, and shortly after the door goes.

"That'll be Steve, I'll delay him for you," you half-shout to Dustin, as you go to the door. He makes a disgruntled shout of gratitude in response.

"Hey," you say, opening the door.

Steve looked the same as ever, as if the recent events of demodogs and alternate dimensions never happened. He wore a simple red jumper that comfortably complemented his brown hair, that was - as always - impossibly perfect.

"Hey, Y/N. How's it going?"

"He's just getting ready, the suit looks good, but he's just, uh, perfecting the look. Do you want to come in and wait?"

He nodded, stepping inside, the wind from outside danced round him, his hair joining in sync, he was effortlessly handsome this way. Mews 2, seemingly instantly, appeared, purring and rubbing against Steve's ankles.

"Traitor," you commented, smiling slightly, "I spent ages getting her to like me, of course she loves you straight away."

"Oh, is that how it is?" Steve asked, leaning down, lifting the cat, who, much to your surprise, did not protest, "You would have thought that me saving your life and everything would have put us on the same team."

"You saved my life? Come on, Harrington, you know that's not how it happened. If it weren't for me, you would have been demo-dog food."

"Yeah, but that's only because I was only in that position to protect you anyway."

"Whatever, Harrington, I saved your life," you said half-jokingly, slowly approaching him.

It was silent for a while as you reached up and played with the cat, you couldn't believe how much nicer she was being to him. Up this close, you could smell a mixture of his hair product mixed with a seemingly natural scent of pine trees.

Unbeknownst to you, Steve was also watching you, the way your currently messy hair framed your face, and the slight vacancy of your eyes as you seemingly absent-mindedly petted the cat.

"So, how have you been doing, y'know, after everything?" Steve asked eventually.

You slowly looked up at him, calculating how serious an answer he wanted. His eyes looked into yours earnestly, almost intimidatingly so. Noticing you pause, he sat down on the sofa, just waiting for your response.

"I, I mean I'm alright, we all made it out alive - despite your multitudes of protest," you said, smirking at him, "but even though I know it's over, I keep wondering what if it isn't, y'know?"

He smiled sympathetically, it struck you again how pretty he was. "Hey," he said, you wondered vaguely how long it had just been silent, "El closed the gate, you know that, everything's okay now," his voice impossibly soft.

"I know," you nodded, "but sometimes, at night, I just see -"

"Alright, how do I look?" Dustin said, appearing from the bathroom. He paused slightly, noticing the intensity of the eye-contact between the two of you.

You smiled, "You look amazing Dusty, you know Mom promised me I'd get a picture."

Steve watched as you smiled and said this, noticing the easy switch to cheerful and supportive, all for the sake of Dustin. He tore his eyes off of you and turned to look at Dustin. His hair was teased into a curly copy of Steve's own.

"You look great, kid," he said, standing up with a grin.

He stood behind you, pulling faces to force Dustin to smile for a photo, before you insisted him being in one. After all, he was Dustin's chauffeur, and self-proclaimed best friend.

"Alright, have fun okay, and keep an eye on Will, yeah?" you said, dusting off Dustin's shoulder.

He nodded excitedly, already half out of the door, "See you tomorrow, Y/N!"

Steve followed, before turning back to you, "You sure you're gonna be okay?"

You just nodded, but something on your face must have been giving you away, because Steve tilted his head slightly, and those soft eyes of worry made a return.

"Yeah, Harrington, I'm all good, I'll see you around, alright?"

He looked like he was about to say something else. Right on cue, your brother called for Steve, insisting they were going to be late.

Steve muttered something about Dustin being a little shit, before half jogging down to his car.

You waved them off, before closing the door and sinking back into the sofa where he had sat moments before.

*****

In the car, Dustin asked, "Hey, what was all that with them?"

Not looking up from the road, Steve said, "what was all what?"

"With Y/N, you kept staring at them whenever you thought they weren't looking. I'm not blind, Steve."

"It was nothing, really, I just care about them that's all"

"So do I, so don't lie to me Steve, come on. I thought we talked about this type of stuff, now, since I love Max and all."

Steve could have sworn he sounded slightly genuinely put-out. He smiled slightly, "I just meant that ever since in the tunnels, when they saved me. They got hurt for me, and I feel kinda guilty about it, and then I couldn't get them out of my head. And they are beautiful, which doesn't make it any easier to forget."

"Hey, that's a blood relative of mine you're talking about there," he exclaimed.

"You did ask, and beautiful is hardly graphic, come on."

"You should tell them", Dustin said, "they'd prefer you were just straight with them. Plus, I hate having to watch you staring at each other, it's gross and distracting."

Each other? Steve thought, were they doing the same, and he hadn't even noticed?

"Fine, fine, maybe I will. But enough about that, here we are" Steve announced as he pulled into the school.

"So remember, once you get in there..."

"I don't care," finished Dustin.

Steve nodded, hyping him up, "That's right, you don't care."

Still unconvinced, Dustin checked his reflection, which Steve did not allow, as he closed the mirror he said, "hey, you look great."

"uh-huh," mumbled, Dustin doubtedly.

"You look great, you look great, okay?" Steve questioned insistently.

"Yeah".

"You're gonna go in there, look like a million bucks"

"YEAH"

"And you're gonna slam dunk"

"Like a lion," agreed Dustin, before making a weird noise with his teeth.

"Uh, yeah, don't do that."

Dustin nodded, defeated, and got out of the car.

"Go get 'em tiger!"

Steve smiled slightly, as he watched Dustin go, shaking his head, wondering how he became friends with some random kid. All because of Nancy - speaking of whom. He saw her through the window, talking to Jonathon. Steve leant back in his chair, and decided he was glad she was happy with someone else, as he pulled out of the car park, turning back towards the Henderson household.

****

You were still on the sofa, now curled into a ball as you read a book.

And then there was a knock at the door.

"Hey, Y/N, can I come in?"

You nodded, letting him in, he was holding a VHS and a plastic bag of snacks.

"I thought, if you can't sleep, I might as well get you to relax... if that's okay."

"Steve," you said, starting to say that he didn't need or have to.

But he shook his head, gently pushing you back into the sofa, he was warm, and even after he had removed his hands, you could feel a sparky outline of them.

"No Y/N, I owe you, you did, after all, save my life."

That got you to smile slightly.

Steve settled next to you on the sofa, a respectable distance, but close enough to reach out to him. You could almost hear his breathing, and you could smell him again. It was comforting, he was really here, unlike all the things you relived in the dark, and he was grounding. As the film ended, you realised how tired you actually were, and tried, but failed, to hide your yawning.

"So, when was the last time you slept, like properly?" asked Steve.

You just shrugged.

"Come on," he said, having switched off the TV, he pulled you gently out of the sofa and you both meandered to your room.

"What if you stayed?" you mumbled, you were almost embarrassed to ask him, but his presence was keeping you calm in a way you hadn't felt before, which wasn't something you were ready to lose.

"If you're sure, that's okay," was all he said.

You vaguely wondered if that was something he actually wanted, but you were too tired from your shift at work earlier, and then getting Dustin ready, that you didn't really want to start questioning that.

Steve went to the bathroom whilst you got ready for bed. As he washed his hands, he looked at himself in the mirror, pausing in slight disbelief that you were letting him stay around. The truth was, he loved your company too, like he had told Dustin, you hadn't left his mind since that night when you had fought that demo-dog away from him.

When he returned to your room, you were already curled up under the covers. So, he laid down opposite you, on top of the covers, but under a blanket. You were staring in front of you, your eyes vacant, as if looking at something that wasn't really there. But when he settled next to you, you smiled slightly in recognition.

"Hey," you said softly.

"Hey," Steve responded.

You really did look beautiful wrapped up like that. So, he reached out, brushing your hair from your face, when you didn't protest, he carried on. Slowly, he played with your hair, letting it run through his fingers. The entire time, he made sure to be gentle with you, just trying to distract you, as slowly, but surely you fell asleep.

For a while, Steve carried on, just looking at you, but slowly he fell asleep too.

****

Suddenly, you were back in the tunnels, you had reached the hub, and there was one stalking the group. It was staring you down. You were all alone and as it charged, you could do nothing. Your feet were stuck to the ground, it opened up its mouth about to -

You lashed out, swinging your arms in a last minute attempt to protect yourself, before realising it wasn't real.

Steve caught your badly formed fist in his hand.

"Hey, hey, hey," he said softly. He didn't wait for a response, just pulling you into him until your head was buried in his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, one hand resting on the back of your head, starting to play with your hair. The other hand slowly drew circles in your back.

You leant into him, letting him know he was okay to keep going, and eventually returning the hug, with one arm settling over his shoulders.

"You're okay, I promise, I'm right here," he said softly.

You nodded into his chest.

****

In the morning, you were both still entangled. He was watching you with an absent-minded smile on his face.

"Morning, beautiful," he said.

You hit him playfully, "oh shut up," you said, barely daring to believe this was real.

He was still looking at you. "I meant it."

"What?"

"I meant it. I think you're beautiful, I haven't stopped thinking about you since everything that happened. You're brave and kind, and maybe too good to your shithead brother."

You just stared in shock, you couldn't really believe it. Until you had seen him getting his ass handed to him by Billy Hargrove, had you really started to like him. But he had always been gorgeous himself.

You realised he was waiting for you to say something.

"Me too," you admitted, finally looking back up at him.

His hair was falling into his face, so you reached up to fix it for him. It was only then you realised just how close together the two of you really were. His eyes were on you, following your every move. As you fixed his hair, he leant into your hand. Neither of you could break eye contact, until his betrayed him, slipping down to look at your lips before flickering back up.

You smiled slightly, only drawing his attention back to them, as you leaned in, and gently pulled him most of the way.

It started off slowly, his lips unbelievably soft. And then he was pulling you close, one hand coming up to hold your head, the other sliding up your back. You wrapped one leg around him, each of you keeping the other close.

When your faces pulled apart, the rest of you stayed wrapped together. Safe.

You rested your forehead against his.

"Okay, Harrington, we're even now."

He laughed gently, before kissing you again.

[magnetarbeam]

I've said it before, and I'll say it again:

Syal Antilles is one of the most important perspectives in Legacy of the Force. Not only is she regular GA military, but she's almost the only person young enough that she's never had to question her superiors or lose faith in her government before.

I've been thinking about her telling Tycho that the idea that something like the firing of Centerpoint that destroyed her entire task force might happen again scares her less than the thought that maybe she'd be willing to do it, and I'm finally registering that she's questioning her own judgement as much as she's questioning her orders.

The idea of writing some kind of story that follows up on Fury and shows what the hell happened to her after that has appealed to me for a while. I'm currently referring to the idea as X-Wing: Guiding Star, but that is liable to change if I think of something better.

I still haven't managed to suffer through Revelation, but I know it's in that book that Admiral Niathal, who Tycho's working directly under in Fury, sees how bad she's fucked up and deserts the Alliance and sides with the Jedi. Lacking any information to the contrary (not that I'd necessarily care if canon said otherwise) I am assuming that through some combination of luck and scheming, Tycho leaves with her. Even in Fury, when he's there as Luke lays out part of the plan to save Allana and blow up Centerpoint, Tycho admits that he personally wants the Jedi to succeed in this, even though his duty doesn't let him act on it. I think Niathal, his direct superior and supposedly Caedus' equal in authority, splitting from Caedus gives Tycho the push he needs to be able to interpret his duty the same way that the Jedi are: They're working in the best interest of the Alliance as a whole by aiming to remove Caedus in particular from power.

I remain kind of convinced that Tycho knew, or at least guessed, that the "diplomatic mission" he gave Syal would likely turn out to be bullshit, in the sense that however the war went from there, the Jedi weren't likely to rejoin the GA because of diplomacy. I think that mission was at least as much a way to reunite Syal with her immediate family and not cut her off from Uncle Tycho, in a way that they could both justify to themselves, and that Tycho could justify to the people above him in the chain of command, as still being in the line of their duty.

Once they're on the same side again, though, that diplomatic link between Syal and Tycho, and by extension the Jedi and the ex-Alliance forces answering to Niathal, actually might prove very important in terms of coordinating the two groups. Especially if Tycho managed to set it up in such a way that they had a way to talk to each other that he was confident beyond reasonable doubt had escaped the notice of the GAG, which undoubtedly would have done everything it could to monitor someone of his rank who was known to be very close to several prominent traitors.

I feel like as far as it's presented in canon, Wedge's arc in LotF is pretty much complete by the time Fury kicks off. He spent Betrayal and Exile being chewed up and shat out by both sides of the war, causes and organizations he once honestly believed were worth fighting for. At this point, he aligns with the goals of the Jedi in removing Caedus from power, because of all the atrocities Caedus is committing, but actually Wedge doesn't give half a shit about the Alliance.

Wedge in LotF is tired of making sacrifices for the concept of "making the galaxy better," as consensuses and politicians and idealists define "better." All he has left to care about are people. His goal is the removal of Caedus from power, because Caedus is killing people who don't deserve it. His motive - the thing that keeps him fighting every day, the reason he isn't content to sit this out and let younger people handle it - is his family.

Luke, Iella, Corran, Syal, Tycho, Myri, Mirax, Han, Booster, Jag, Winter, Jaina, Wes, Leia, and many more that I don't think I need to list exhaustively to make my point.

And, like. Not quite as much as it is for Han and Leia, of course, but Jacen's fall is plenty personal for Wedge, too.

Part of the point of this story is kind of to pass the torch in terms of showing how Wedge gets the relatively happy ending that he does, and getting Syal to a point where she can stop seeing her father's legend as a standard against which to measure her entire self-worth, and be proud of herself for her own accomplishments, and be comfortable trying to carry on the good he did for the galaxy, starting with taking up the leadership of the famous Rogues.

My attention span is limited, so I'll cut to the next big thing: Gavin.

As you may have guessed, this story is basically going to take place in the same time frame as LotF: Invincible. In that book, there is an offhand reference to Admiral Gavin Darklighter still taking orders from Caedus. I don't remember the context of that mention, but I have some stuff planned for Gavin.

Specifically: He's the member of this huge extended family who had no way out of the Alliance, and no one else could get him out, and since Tycho left with Niathal, Gavin's under constant observation from GAG, and he regularly meets in person with Caedus, so he can barely even think about anything disloyal.

Caedus senses an opportunity and preys upon the helplessness of Gavin's situation, combined with a generous amount of Sith mind-tricking, to subtly manipulate him into believing he's been abandoned by everyone he loves for his loyalty to the Alliance, just like Caedus thinks he was. Caedus doesn't want to fuck with Gavin's head too much, because the guy is a genuinely good commander and leader, and Caedus doesn't want to ruin such a valuable asset to the Alliance.

He's wrong, of course. Tycho in particular tried everything he could to find some way to get Gavin out, or at least to send him a message, but he failed, and it haunts him.

Caedus sends Gavin after Tycho, who has his own fleet among Niathal's loyalists. For some reason, I think probably having to do with the game of 11-dimensional Force chess that Luke's playing with Caedus, Wedge and Syal are sent to join Tycho's fleet.

In this matchup, Gavin has a far larger fleet, so there's plenty of tension. Part of what's exactly going on is that Wedge and Tycho are trying to tie up Gavin's fleet long enough to prevent it from joining the simultaneous attack against the beleaguered coalition forces defending the Maad System.

It's kind of reminiscent of Wedge defending Borleias from the Vong, in that they need a similar kind of psychological warfare method, a bait with which to tempt the enemy into acting the way they want.

But this time, instead of a fake superweapon and some religious offenses, they have to do something that's personal to a version of Gavin who believes they all betrayed him.

There is a lot of pain, all around.

I mean, Gavin's not stupid because of it, but Wedge has to be the best admiral alive at this point (though Luke's probably better at some forms of strategy) and both he and Tycho are significantly more experienced. Most importantly, they all know each other.

I'm running out of attention to figure out the details of this, but eventually Gavin breaks the Sith brainwashing and figures out what actually happened, and there are emotions.

(As a completely unintentional (on my part) side effect, having experienced that specific kind of Force bullshit before and maybe had some Jedi mind-healing sessions for the scars might mean that at the end of FotJ, he's able to recognize what Abeloth's doing and maybe resist it to some extent.)

There is more that I have to say here, but at the moment I have no more attention span for this.

[chardbones]

Summer morning (Ana Amari x Fem! Reader)

A/N so it's been a really long time since I've written any fanfics at all and I thought I'd jump back into the ring for fun. I've had this fic idea for the better part of two years now but for some unknown reason I decided to write it just now. I might make a second part to this but I'm not sure, like breakfast and maybe a bit and what the reader would do with Ana all day. I also saw that there isn't many fanfics of my girl Ana and she deserves it so I might post a fic or two more about her.I hope you blokes enjoy what I wrote

Y/N Pov:

I woke up to the light shining in my eyes, I slowly got up and looked over to left where I could see my wife peacefully sleeping. Ana and I decided a while ago that we both deserved a holiday together after going on countless missions. A few years ago, the both of us decided to buy a small house in Iilios, somewhere close to the beach and not too far from the town square where the market could be found. The light was thankfully poring slightly and only on my side so Ana wouldn't be woken up by it.

I slowly got up and made my way to the window, looking out I saw the clear blue sky and the vast never ending sea, in the distance I could see sail boats. Even though it was just the morning, looking at the sun, it was already quite hot but thankfully there was a cool breeze. After a bit I quietly opened the door and carefully made my way down stairs. My body isn't what it was 20 years ago, I'm still pretty physically well off but I can feel my body slowly but surely having enough of all the running around, carrying heavy ammo and making sharp moves.

As I walk down the stairs I look to my left and see the photos of me and Ana, most of them were of us during the glory days of overwatch. Boy, that was a long time ago. A lot of them were of the both of us and Fareeha, especially when she was just a kid. As I got downstairs and made my way to the kitchen, I stopped to look at a group of photos hanging over a dresser. One of them was of the three of us when we went Trick or Treating, Fareeha was just 10 years old then. Another was of Fareeha on her first day of school and another of her standing all happy with a trophy she won. One of my favourites was the wedding photo, that was taken year's ago, now the both us are old women.

Fareeha always saw me as her second mum and always treated me like one. And I always treated her like my own daughter, the best years of my life have been spent with them, seeing Fareeha grow and become stronger. Experiencing new things with Ana and loving her more and more.

Finally after a few minutes of remember wonderful memories I finally got to the kitchen and put the kettle on the stove, the house still had an old fashion stove oven that used fire, you almost never come across those in households over anywhere. I opened up a cabinet and took out a jar full of the best black tea and put it in two cup. As I waited for the water to boil I put in 1 and a half teaspoons of brown sugar and got out a desk to put the tea on. I placed the tea cups filled with hot and cold water on the tray and just incase the sugar if Ana wanted more.

I made my way back up the stairs and place the tray on my nightstand, I crawled back into bed and pulled Ana a bit closer to me so I could spoon her. The second I placed my wrinkly hand into hers, I could feel Ana stir in her sleep and see her eye flutter open.

"Good morning my love" I spoke quietly as Ana rolled over to look at me

"Good morning alsaqr" Ana said with a smile.

Alsaqr is a nickname she gave you because of how similarly you acted as a falcon in combat and how you armour resembled one.

"I made us some tea, drink some" I passed her a cup as Ana pushed herself up to sit.

"You're up quite early Y/N. Any reason why?" Ana asked as she put the cup to her mouth.

"Not really, I just did... I can believe that we're old women now. Looking at the photos it seems like it was just yesterday that I carried Fareeha on my back and ran around with her pretending that she was flying and I was her suit of armour" I spoke in a slight sad but glad tone.

"It has been, the time really does fly quickly, our little Fareeha has grown up really quickly and subsequently we have gotten older."

"I'm happy that you are the one I'm growing old with Ana. You're the only one I'd ever want to grow old with and have experience all the things we have gone through. I love you Ana."

"I love you too Y/N and I'm as every bit as happy as you are alsaqr"

The both of us put our cups away and kisses one another. It was a long and sweet kiss. As we parted we just looked into eachother worn eyes (well, I was looking into just one of her eyes). Even though we both look different then we did 20 or even 30 years ago, Ana still looks at me with the same passion and love that she did all those years ago. The same goes to me. We have said it many times before and shoe shown it to eachother on multiple occasions, and it's not going to stop.

The both of us just layed back down in bed and cuddle, the white sheets being partially draped over us. I held Ana in my arms while we gave eachother kisses. We could feel the breeze coming in every now and the through the open windows cooling us down.

And we just stayed like that until the sun started to shine on our faces and we knew we'd have to get up and start the day.

[halfbakedspuds]

Characterisation through quotes

Taking the open tag from @illarian-rambling to do this.

Rules: write a quote for your character following your prompt

My prompt: Write a quote about your character/s favourite place.

I'm gonna do characters from all three my activr WIP's.

Children of the Stars

Adrian: Wow, what's my favourite place... let's see if I still remember this... Fifty-three Armfeldt Lane, floor five-oh-eight, Hab tower six, Callisto. It used to be a NASECA colonial armory some six hundred years ago. To us? Well, to clan Castellan it was simply Hémar, 'home'. Not a day passes that I don't wish I was back there, even if it would mean more gunfire and bloodshed daily than I've seen in the past six years.

Lyanni: This house, of course. Look, I don't fit in with the nobility, there isn't a Jezdeir left for me to return to, and regardless, I'm safer and happier here than I've been at any time during the last year and a half. Adrian can be a bit of an ass from time to time, but I'd rather argue with him out of boredom and spite than have my rights taken away because some gods-forsaken priest took offence to... my breathing, I guess, I don't know. And besides, the little shit is kinda endearing in his own thorny way.

Wilhelm: My favourite place? I... I confess that I do not know. My whole life has been spent either in places I hated or places I never want to go back to. Now that I'm free? Free to explore and live and do whatever else it is free people do with their lives, I'll let you know when I find it.

The Tempest Prince

Jason: The Archives. The Ordo Magos used to warn archivists and researchers to pack camping gear and rations whenever they went in there. My binge reading and exploration of that place is the sole reason that the Magi have set up lodgings and psychonet spell circles at regular intervals in that place. I don't know whether that's impressive or a sign that I need an intervention.

Alex: You're asking the walker of worlds what his favourite place is? You know, I've seen realities so bizarrely beautiful that they defy human language. Have you ever seen the Roses bloom under the skies of Neureich? Or the endless expanse of old mother night from the orbit of New Iernia? To you, this is all gibberish, but to me they are memories, and to pick a favourite would be a defilement thereof.

Helga: The lowveld in Southern Africa. I once went there on a trip with those two idiots and their mother. Beautiful place, so much more alive and vibrant than Allyria, yet quiet enough to get one's head on straight. To this day, I'll catch a lantern over that-a-way whenever I need to calm down or think. Just watchimg that sunrise is almost meditative.

Echoes of Shadows

Johan: The Zelver Frontier in Zuurveldt. Contrary to what people think, it's not all salt pans out west, in fact it can be downright mesmerizing when those dry hills bloom in early spring. When I still lived on the farm, we used to always take the day the flowers bloomed off. Ha! I guess once a country boy, always a country boy, hey?

Anastasia: When is not wartorn hellscape, Ulyenski forests hold certain... calming appeal to me.

Maire: Th'market square in Rodrickstown. As much as A' 'ate Angeheim an' 'ated livin' in th'Kingdom, Ye've got tae admit tha' our people know how tae do street markets right.

Hans: when I first moved to Neureich, the first thing they warned us about was that a field of Roses is a sign to stay away from an area. I thought nothing of it until I survived my first hellstorm and had watched those things in the storm tear apart my posse only for a field of Roses to spring up in the wake of that hell. Turns out Roses are a sign that an area is susceptible to hellstorms. There's something morbidly poetic and beautiful about such horrible violence being the catalyst for such beauty.

Sasha: Honestly? My old bunk back in Rostov. Never thought I'd say that but I honestly miss not having to sleep on a grimy couch in some foreign port city.

Tagging whomever wants it. Your prompt is: Write a quote about your characters best memory

[rankingthehousewives]

Eight years later, or, "I'm not getting older; I'm just getting bolder."

Hi divas,

It's been the better part of a decade since I first posted this list, and a lot has changed: for me, for Bravo, and not least for the various superestrellas herein. I'm forced to fess up to some clunker opinions (Stacey Forsey is not a better Housewife than Vicki Gunvalson; Teresa Giudice is [heartbreakingly, devastatingly] not actually in love with her brother), and a few overall sea changes in the way I conceptualize the show and Bravo in general.

First of all, I underestimated the delight of the Housewives blog/news cycle, which has only refined as an apparatus since the posting of this list. A key component in being a Bravolebrity is one's ability to titillate with delightfully brain-bending headlines (Teresa Giudice 'can’t relate' to Jen Shah’s prison sentencing: 'I would never do something like that.') and to shock and delight with one's antics, public snipes, absurd feuds, and assorted felonies. When I first compiled this list, it was after my first watch of each of series, and I didn't understand that a good chunk of the captivating material occurs offscreen, as a thrilling little adrenaline hit during an otherwise mundane day. If I had to make a list like this again, I'd take that into much more rigorous account.

But I wouldn't make a list like this again, because fundamentally... I really like all of these women now, at least as highly edited TV characters! Shock twist: they're all now tied in my heart! I see them all as rich and necessary players in the show's milieu, and I honestly think that my individual moral judgments of them are totally irrelevant—and, in fact, I think the show works best approached as non-judgmentally as possible. I respect that each viewer will have their own individual lines in the sand as to what is and isn't Too Far, informed by their own personalities and experiences, and I can't ask for carte blanche approval of these problematic women and their problematic ways. But for me, I have genuinely come to appreciate Kyle Richards and Jeana Keough and THE Mary Schmidt Amons, and of course I still love Phaedra and Tamra and Sheree and all of the other beautiful Botoxed gladiators who have taken to the Coliseum (and The Traitors season two) for our collective entertainment.

I think part of what's brought me to this conclusion is that in the current era of BravoCon and celebrity superfans and Peacock exclusives, the social media discourse has gotten increasingly tense, heated, and even abusive—between fans and other fans, certainly, but also between fans and the talent. People frequently direct really cruel messages to the Housewives and other Bravolebrities without thinking of the impacts of those sorts of messages, individually and en masse. I think a ranked list like this one, with its favourites at the tops and least favourites at the bottom, isn't a great format for communicating the nuance of these programs at their best, and for expressing my appreciation for these many strong, interesting, entertaining women who love vaginal rejuvenation and axe-throwing. Basically, I think we're too quick to judge, and I think I judged too quickly.

I still get really sweet messages from readers about this list (please forgive me if I haven't answered yours!), so I won't strip it from the web, even though I disown a lot of the opinions underpinning it. If you're reading this in 2024, or later, just know that I almost universally wish I were kinder and more thoughtful in my appraisals. And, hey, thanks again for reading.

If you're interested in keeping up with me eight years later, I write, produce, and host a podcast with my friend, Josie, called Bittersweet Infamy. We cover infamous non-fiction stories, including an excruciatingly in-depth dive into the Salahis' white house crash with lots of bizarre celebrity cameos, from Shaq to Sugar Kiper to Bai Ling. Three and a half years in, we're revving up for our 100th episode, so we'd love the well wishes.

If that's not your vibe, then please continue to enjoy the weird and wonderful worlds of Bravo—and please, by all means, make it nice.

xoxo

t.

P.S. RHOSLC kicks ass.

P.P.S. Luann is still my favourite.

[raidenssblog]

Hi!!! Just recently I watched Puss in Boots: The last wish and fell in love all over again with Kitty Softpaws (she's so cool omg) and thought of a request with Douma and a gn! reader where her character is similar to Kitty

I REPENT, IT MAY SOUND WEIRD, BUT IT ALSO SOUNDS INTERESTING ‼️‼️

"Cold and groomed, Kitty knows how to be persuasive without ever pretending to be a 'damsel in distress.' She can be testy, but she never falters under pressure. She is incredibly smart, civil and persuasive to everyone. She can be sweet when she wants to be, but is sometimes destructive. At times she shows humor, such as when she teases Puss. It has been noted that she has been nicknamed Soft Paws because she can steal things from people without them noticing. She proved this by stealing Puss's hat, bag of money, and boots to tease him constantly."

If you feel uncomfortable writing that, that's fine!!! Have a wonderful day!

(also english isn’t my first language, sorry if i write something wrong)

OMG A DOUMA ASK YAYAYA!!! And your English is fine, it's my first language (and really only language beside a bit of Japanese) and I can't even spell half the words💀

Cunning as a mouse

Pairing: Douma X gn!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

Summary: what if Douma met a demon like kitty softpaws.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

First off you two get along fairly well

You can deal with his 'happy go lucky' personality for longer than most and sometimes enjoy his company.

Your cold nature and strong abilities is what drew Douma to you in the first place.

You both have small talk when you pass each other by when your roaming the infinity castle.

In the end you smartness and quick back hands to the other upper rank led you to be very well know.

You both play small trick on one another, such as childish pranks and stealing each other items.

Douma invites you over for meal alot and gradually you open up to him...key word gradually.

"oh my, y/n you must come over to mine one day. We have to have dinner some time, and I'd like to get to know you better~" Douma begged towards you. Leaning almost his whole body weight on you, he dramatically puffs and wraps his arms around you.

"please?" He asks towards you from the side. Sighing, you push him off and fix your wrinkled cloths.

"fine, I'll be there 9" Douma cheers before strangling you in a bear hug.

"oh, your gonna have a lovely time dear!~" he cooed before letting you go and running off somewhere.

Once you arrived he already had a meal ready and infrount of him. Shooting you a smile he patted the spot next to him for you to sit.

Sitting down, you reach forward and break a calf off before sinking your teeth into it. The blood leaked onto your tongue, pulling away you ripped the still warm flesh off the bone before chewing the stringy meat.

"so~ how have you been darling~" douma spicks up a conversation. The pet name stuck onto you ever since he met you.

"I've been fine Douma, and you?" You bit into the leg agian putting your attention towards the blond man.

"oh! Wonderful! I've been great, well even better since you agreed to meet with me tonight~" You spotted the small smirk that played on his face.

"me too Douma, it's nice being here" you smile before finishing off the leg you were on. Douma looked away and flushed 'y/n really likes being here, what an honour." He thought

Maybe he might bring 'the cold and cunning' demon to his side, forever.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Oml, sorry if this isn't what you were looking for I'm super low on work so I just need to get this out there.

-Raiden

[dreamedge]

AO3 tag game :3

shout-out to @ragecndybars for the tag! <3 I got to think a lot about some older fics and also the deep, eternal impact CC has has on my soul, so I'm emotional rn lol.

How many works do you have on AO3?

21! Which is, a lot more than I thought tbh. I've been writing these long, long fics for so many years now that I've sort of forgotten about all the little ones I've managed in between. And even the long ones add up after a while. Though, I did only import a small selection of my fics from ff.net, so the back catalogue of stuff I've actually written is way longer. ... That's fine, some of that stuff can stay buried lol.

Even at 21 though... *Looks at my shoebox of story ideas and outlines* Its... its still not enough. Its, its just no where close to even making a dent in everything I want to write eventually.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

650,444. I'm pretty sure at least half of that is entirely in CC, and another quarter is in can i bleed. Which, tbh I'm not sure how I feel about that lol. Deeply introspective fics, my passion, my talent, my beloathed. Some part of me does miss simply writting 5k chapters and calling it done for a week. Not all of me though.

How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?

Only 10! That number probably isn't going to grow much either. I tend to gravitate towards bigger projects these days rather than simple oneshots or even like, 5 chapter long stuff, so I tend to go all in on a small number of fandoms instead of spreading my attention around, even though I want to.

Cardcaptor Sakura

Digimon

Dragon Age Inquisition

Percy Jackson

Persona 3

Power Rangers RPM

RWBY

Teen Wolf

Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle

BNHA

Top five fics by kudos:

A Most Precious Thing (Tsubasa): tbh this being number one is an absolute surprise, though I'm very happy about it. According to AO3, this was published almost 10 years ago, will be 10 years exactly in just a few weeks, but people still regularly give it kudos and comments. It was a complete experiment, style wise; I'd never written anything like it before, I've written one thing like it since, and I'm just so thankful that people loved it so much despite the inexperience behind it.

Of the Woods (Teen Wolf/CCS): This being so high up is not a surprise, and I'm annoyed about it. Mostly bc I know its only so high up bc its for such a big fandom, written during said fandom's height. I think its probably one of the fic I've soured the most on since I wrote it; its just not that great.

Crests Corrupted (Digimon) : Oh, here it is. My masterpiece. Maybe its weird to say that of the fic that's only 3rd, but it truly is, and to see a fic I have put so much of myself into being even this high and this appreciated means so much to me.

can i bleed within your love (Persona 3) : Hi! I don't have much to say about this one, only that I'm so happy with the sheer outpouring of love this has gotten, and I can't wait to finish it.

True Feelings Chocolate (Digimon) : Oh, um, I sort of forgot about you. What are you doing here? ...This is awkward, I really didn't expect this to do so well. Its just a silly little fic I wrote for valentine's one year. I'm glad it did well?

Do you respond to comments?

I try! I don't succeed a lot of the time; generally I'm very tired after posting a chapter and then its been like two weeks and responding feels awkward. Also I tend to ramble, if you haven't noticed yet, some sometimes I'll just close out of responding to avoid any chance of me accidentally spoiling or saying something I shouldn't. I'm... working on it.

What’s the fic with the angstiest ending you’ve ever written?

Oh that's easy. Its the RWBY one, Your Love on Your Sleeve and Your Pain Buried Deep. I don't tend to write angsty fics, I like happy endings, I think this is the only one I've ever written and I'm glad to keep it that way.

Do you write crossovers?

I've written one before, the TW one that's up there. I generally tend to prefer fusions over straight up crossovers; I've gotten several P3 fusions planned, a PJ fusion, the bnha fic I wrote is a fusion. I just, I love fusions. I greatly prefer writing them over cross-overs generally.

Have you ever gotten hate on a fic?

Once or twice, but that was ages ago and I've mostly blocked it from my memory. The fandoms I'm in now have been full of such lovely people, I've been really lucky.

Do you write smut?

Smut, as in the fic happens to have a sex scene? Not typically, but I'm not against doing so when the need calls. Smut, as in the entire point of the fic in the sex scene? No. I'm actually very bad at it. I'll do it if I must but I find even writing kiss scenes awkward, let alone everything else. I will gladly leave it to people much better at their craft them I am.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

To the best of my knowledge? No I don't think so.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I've had people offer? I don't know if they ever did or even if, in my general ineptitude when it comes to responding to people, I actually agreed they could.

Hey, if anyone wants to translate my works, feel free!

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

... Hey, thats not fair.

Hmmm, well, after much thinking I'm gonna go with Kurogane/Fai from TRC. Other ships may currently have their hooks in my brain, but kurofai is a big comfort to me still, I really love them. And lets be honest. Ain't no one doing it like those two.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

I have, its not posted anywhere, and technically I've barely started writing it, its almost entirely outline rn, but I do have a p3 fantasy au thats just... fucking massive. Its a huge project just from the outline i have, long even in comparison to CC, so long that I doubt I'd ever finish it to the point where I've barely started it.

What are your writing strengths?

Combat. I write a damn good fight scene and I know it. I take a lot of pride in that. I also tend to have a pretty solid grasp of pacing on an overall level for longer fics. Per chapter pacing gets a bit more eh, but the overall pacing of arcs and stuff for my longer fics, I generally know what I'm doing.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I never know when to shut the fuck up! This is a problem I've known I've had for years. I just let characters go on these long, internal monologues, which is only acceptable because I also write deeply introspective fics. However, it tends to slow chapters down a lot and after a bit, characters repeat themselves and its a problem.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fics?

I'm incapable bc I'm monolingual but I've always loved fics that use other languages! Maybe I can do that some day lol.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Yknow, if I dug far far far back in my ff.net account it would probably be Naruto? I think. My memory is fuzzy and I'm not actually going to go look. However, thats the first one I posted.

The *very* first fic i ever wrote, I have a very clear memory of for some reason. It was a FFX2/Series of Unfortunate Events crossover, I was in the fourth grade, I thought it was the coolest thing. Hm, memories.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written so far?

I actually have two answers for this, which, I know is against the spirit and rule of the question BUT. Too bad.

One is A Most Precious Thing, bc it was such an experience to write. Despite being 10 years old I still love it. It was, as I said above, an utter experiment. It is written entirely in 2nd person, which is not actually a choice? I made? Um, I tried, very hard in the beginning, to write in in my standard 3rd, and it didn't work. The story actively refused to be written as such and I kept ending up back in 2nd. And at some point I just gave up and wrote the rest of it as such. And it taught me, so much, about point of view and how that relates to emotional distance, and really, but trusting myself with my writing, that even if I can't say why this is happening, somewhere deep down there is a reason to it and I should trust that. As a writer who takes my craft very seriously, this one has a soft spot in my heart bc of all of that.

However, Crests Corrupted owns a piece of my soul that I will never get back. It is my thesis, my masterpiece, It has defined years of my life, I have poured hundreds of thousands of words into it, I have given it so much of my heart and my pain. It has redefined how I approach writing, it has shaped, totally, the style in which I write today. Even years from now, even years after I finally finish it whenever that is, I don't think I will ever be truly free of it. It is my favorite. How can't it be?