#though those things certainly factor

[homoquartz]

a show doesn't necessarily have to be ABOUT queerness to BE a queer show. it's a cultural dialect that cishets don't quite speak.

edit: i gotta clarify that the shows do indeed still have to have actual queer characters in them to count

[5ummit]

AO3 Ship Stats: Year In Bad Data

You may have seen this AO3 Year In Review.

It hasn’t crossed my tumblr dash but it sure is circulating on twitter with 3.5M views, 10K likes, 17K retweets and counting. Normally this would be great! I love data and charts and comparisons!

Except this data is GARBAGE and belongs in the TRASH.

I first noticed something fishy when I realized that Steve/Bucky – the 5th largest ship on AO3 by total fic count – wasn’t on this Top 100 list anywhere. I know Marvel’s popularity has fallen in recent years, but not that much. Especially considering some of the other ships that made it on the list. You mean to tell me a femslash HP ship (Mary MacDonald/Lily Potter) in which one half of the pairing was so minor I had to look up her name because she was only mentioned once in a single flashback scene beat fandom juggernaut Stucky? I call bullshit.

Now obviously jumping to conclusions based on gut instinct alone is horrible practice... but it is a good place to start. So let’s look at the actual numbers and discover why this entire dataset sits on a throne of lies.

Here are the results of filtering the Steve/Bucky tag for all works created between Jan 1, 2023 and Dec 31, 2023:

Not only would that place Steve/Bucky at #23 on this list, if the other counts are correct (hint: they're not), it’s also well above the 1520-new-work cutoff of the #100 spot. So how the fuck is it not on the list? Let’s check out the author’s FAQ to see if there’s some important factor we’re missing.

The first thing you’ll probably notice in the FAQ is that the data is being scraped from publicly available works. That means anything privated and only accessible to logged-in users isn’t counted. This is Sin #1. Already the data is inaccurate because we’re not actually counting all of the published fics, but the bots needed to do data collection on this scale can't easily scrape privated fics so I kinda get it. We’ll roll with this for now and see if it at least makes the numbers make more sense:

Nope. Logging out only reduced the total by a couple hundred. Even if one were to choose the most restrictive possible definition of "new works" and filter out all crossovers and incomplete fics, Steve/Bucky would still have a yearly total of 2,305. Yet the list claims their total is somewhere below 1,500? What the fuck is going on here?

Let’s look at another ship for comparison. This time one that’s very recent and popular enough to make it on the list so we have an actual reference value for comparison: Nick/Charlie (Heartstopper). According to the list, this ship sits at #34 this year with a total of 2630 new works. But what’s AO3 say?

Off by a hundred or so but the values are much closer at least!

If we dig further into the FAQ though we discover Sin #2 (and the most egregious): the counting method. The yearly fic counts are NOT determined by filtering for a certain time period, they’re determined by simply taking a snapshot of the total number of fics in a ship tag at the end of the year and subtracting the previous end-of-year total. For example, if you check a ship tag on Jan 1, 2023 and it has 10,000 fics and check it again on Jan 1, 2024 and it now has 12,000 fics, the difference (2,000) would be the number of "new works" on this chart.

At first glance this subtraction method might seem like a perfectly valid way to count fics, and it’s certainly the easiest way, but it can and did have major consequences to the point of making the entire dataset functionally meaningless. Why? If any older works are deleted or privated, every single one of those will be subtracted from the current year fic count. And to make the problem even worse, beginning at the end of last year there was a big scare about AI scraping fics from AO3, which caused hundreds, if not thousands, of users to lock down their fics or delete them.

The magnitude of this fuck up may not be immediately obvious so let’s look at an example to see how this works in practice.

Say we have two ships. Ship A is more than a decade old with a large fanbase. Ship B is only a couple years old but gaining traction. On Jan 1, 2023, Ship A had a catalog of 50,000 fics and ship B had 5,000. Both ships have 3,000 new works published in 2023. However, 4% of the older works in each fandom were either privated or deleted during that same time (this percentage is was just chosen to make the math easy but it’s close to reality).

Ship A: 50,000 x 4% = 2,000 removed works Ship B: 5,000 x 4% = 200 removed works

Ship A: 3,000 - 2,000 = 1,000 "new" works Ship B: 3,000 - 200 = 2,800 "new" works

This gives Ship A a net gain of 1,000 and Ship B a net gain of 2,800 despite both fandoms producing the exact same number of new works that year. And neither one of these reported counts are the actual new works count (3,000). THIS explains the drastic difference in ranking between a ship like Steve/Bucky and Nick/Charlie.

How is this a useful measure of anything? You can't draw any conclusions about the current size and popularity of a fandom based on this data.

With this system, not only is the reported "new works" count incorrect, the older, larger fandom will always be punished and it’s count disproportionately reduced simply for the sin of being an older, larger fandom. This example doesn’t even take into account that people are going to be way more likely to delete an old fic they're no longer proud of in a fandom they no longer care about than a fic that was just written, so the deletion percentage for the older fandom should theoretically be even larger in comparison.

And if that wasn't bad enough, the author of this "study" KNEW the data was tainted and chose to present it as meaningful anyway. You will only find this if you click through to the FAQ and read about the author’s methodology, something 99.99% of people will NOT do (and even those who do may not understand the true significance of this problem):

The author may try to argue their post states that the tags "which had the greatest gain in total public fanworks” are shown on the chart, which makes it not a lie, but a error on the viewer’s part in not interpreting their data correctly. This is bullshit. Their chart CLEARLY titles the fic count column “New Works” which it explicitly is NOT, by their own admission! It should be titled “Net Gain in Works” or something similar.

Even if it were correctly titled though, the general public would not understand the difference, would interpret the numbers as new works anyway (because net gain is functionally meaningless as we've just discovered), and would base conclusions on their incorrect assumptions. There’s no getting around that… other than doing the counts correctly in the first place. This would be a much larger task but I strongly believe you shouldn’t take on a project like this if you can’t do it right.

To sum up, just because someone put a lot of work into gathering data and making a nice color-coded chart, doesn’t mean the data is GOOD or VALUABLE.

[donvampiro]

Imagine the monster trio (separately) with a goth witchy girlfriend like completely opposite they are sunshine and she is darkness but it's a total surprise to everyone else?

hello @supernatural-hunter1 ! wahh thats a nice idea :) monster trio is so fun to write about hehe thanks for your request and hopefully these hcs will meet your expectations. Luv <3 MASTERLIST - Welcome

***

'Opposites attract'

Monster trio x (goth/witchy) fem!reader

Monkey D. Luffy

Luffy likes you because you’re you — it’s your presence, your voice, your character and your different interests as well as abilities that attract him to you. bro just likes vibing with you and won’t try to complicate things. your aesthetics would not, in my opinion, be determining factors as to the affection he can have for you. you can dress up and wear makeup as you wish, as long as you remain (y/n) "at heart", and as long as he can keep cuddling you while he wolfs down all the food around. that’s more than enough for him.

i even think that Luffy would be the type to compliment you openly, through words and comparisons that are certainly… unexpected… but always honest and well-intentioned.

‘woah nice outfit, (y/n)! you look cool. a bit like that magician who scammed Usopp last time.’

he means well i swear ;w;

that being said, it’s not hard to come across as a "dark" person next to Luffy who is basically the embodiment of a ray of sunshine most of the time. you’d never be “darkness” to him though.

he has already seen your smile that brightens his days more than any star, he knows your laughter that recharges his batteries, he knows how hugging you (something he doesn’t deprive himself of) is extraordinary. you can dress up however you want, in Luffy’s eyes you’ll always remain his radiant (y/n).

that’s why he’s surprised by the crew’s shock when he introduces you to them.

— ‘what?! Wait— pinch me, i think i’m dreaming.’

— ‘it’s like the embodiment of day and night…’

— ‘well, that’s… unexpected.’

But the big question, the one the entire crew would be asking themselves but would have kept quiet about until now, would be revealed by Nami, looking both doubtful and amazed.

‘Luffy. How did you get a girlfriend in the first place.’

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro doesn’t really care about your style and how you want to dress up; like you do what you want. however, he might be the type to only make comments when he considers that your outfit, jewelry, shoes, or whatever makes your movements more difficult and you’re clearly not completely comfortable.

‘you can’t fight dressed like that; it’ll hinder your movement. change for now and put your outfit back on later.’

yeah swordsman instinct comes first ig. Otherwise — apart from that — he’s a bit like Luffy overall when it comes to this topic: what matters to him is the sweetness of your presence and the moments spent with you. the harmony between you two.

Zoro knows better than anyone else that those we cherish can be taken away from us at any moment, so loving you is far more important and relevant than judging your aesthetic. as long as you’re yourself, he’s happy.

that doesn’t mean he’s indifferent to your style though. now that he knows you and understands your aesthetic a little better, Zoro might notice some items in stores that might match your style and appeal to you. Well— he might be a little off the mark sometimes, but he’s trying, okay?

Zoro is both a little hesitant and rather confident about introducing you to the crew; but everything would be fine. it’s true that your style doesn’t go unnoticed, it contrasts with Zoro’s, which is rather sober. reactions are flying and the swordsman wonders if he shouldn’t go to bed instead.

— ‘wow, we’d never have thought that Zoro's girlfriend would have this kind of aesthetic. that’s good, it’s a change from his style.’

— ‘what style? Zoro doesn’t have any style.’

— ‘it’s so cool, looks like (y/n) is from a coven of witches or something. like, as if she came from the darkness.’

the last remark, funny and coming out of the captain’s mouth, drew an amused smile from you.

‘yeah, that’s right. and Zoro’s my little sunshine.’

the crew fell silent at the sound of your voice as you patted Zoro’s shoulder. Sanji’s face contorts into an indescribable expression.

‘him? what the heck.’

i think you guys know what would happen next

Vinsmoke Sanji

you? “darkness”? have you seen yourself? you are the ray of sunshine in Sanji’s life.

he loves everything about you. your voice, your personality, your eyes, your smile, etc, etc, and no matter how you dress up, you will always be the most beautiful in his eyes. as long as you wear clothes that you like, there’s no reason to question it.

‘no specific aesthetic can match your breathtaking natural beauty anyway, (y/n)-chwan.’

i know i've said it several times before, but i’ll say it again: Sanji is a supportive and caring boyfriend, who seeks to share your interests as much as he wants you to discover his own. so he wouldn’t hesitate to try to learn about the meanings of your aesthetic, its history, etc. he would appreciate it even more if you’re the one to tell him about it hehe

he too would be the type to now more easily notice clothes, accessories and other items that match your aesthetic and that might please you. Sanji’s a good cook, therefore he’s an observant and precise person, and you’d never be disappointed with his gifts.

it’s with great pride that Sanji would introduce you to the crew, and no matter how surprised his crewmates might be, he’s ready to fight if anyone has anything to say about your style >:(

— ‘i didn't think you’d date someone with that style. looks cool. welcome, (y/n)!’

— ‘well, at least you two seem complementary’

— ‘how could anyone want to date this stupid cook overall.’

self-control. self-control, Sanji.

[kkoffin]

i read thru the whole 88 page judgment from the new UK supreme court decision and i need yall to understand how ABSURD it is that trans people are upset about this at all. long post but important bits highlighted in red bc i know everyone on this app has attention span issues

(context: (stick with me here)

1) the act sets out “it is discriminatory to exclude anyone on the basis of their sex.” and then a list of exceptions, so the single sex spaces/services allowed will be referred to as “exceptions” 2) the judge is looking at the whole act, and based on the language and context, deciding whether or not EVERY mention of “woman”, “man” or “sex” within the act was intended by parliament to include people with a gender recognition certificate or not. 3) we either can or cannot include people with a GRC. this is a discussion largely regarding single-sex services, it either includes TIMs with GRC and rejects TIFS with GRC or vice versa. that’s the most important factor and why it’s most absurd that trans people are upset about this.)

the main part that really stands out, one of the exceptions the judge relied on was regarding (paraphrased) “it would not make sense for a person of the opposite sex to need this service”. this refers to mainly medical treatments for sexed biology. not only does it not make sense for a TIM to need a service such as cervical cancer screening, but if we say this does include people with a recognized “female” gender, IT EXCLUDES TIFs. WHO ACTUALLY NEED THIS SERVICE.

Remember, we cannot make an exception for this specific kind of single-sex service - the word “sex” works just the same across the whole act. a judge cannot make amendments to the act, only interpret it, and it must be interpreted in context.

Even for a trans activist judge this would be a tricky spot to be in. it’s choosing between the “validity” of one trans-identified sex and the literal access to actually necessary healthcare for the other. this was made to protect those people and literally maintain their access to health services. Again, if we said this act was including people with a GRC, trans identified females would be excluded from countless necessary health facilities for women, vice versa.

alongside the gender recognition act, a grc still makes a trans identified person their desired gender for “all [other] purposes”, and the exceptions in the equality act are limited. mainly only government/healthcare services, maybe gyms (maybe), groups of under 25, higher education and communal accommodation. plus minus some.

it does not directly include bathrooms, (though they could be argued) but most certainly it does not mean “trans women are no longer women”. trans women are still literally “legally” women. all that’s really changed is an ability to recognise a difference between a “legal” female and a “biological” female, at this point only limited to within one act. that same act lists trans people as a protected group who MAY be discriminated against on the basis of their trans identity. trans women are legally women in literally every way besides within this one act. one exception to the rule "trans women are women".

this post is already super long but i might reblog it with some more things in the judgment that stood out to me later. also this was all written in one sitting so i might edit, forgive any typos or inaccuracies. i’m not registered and especially not in the UK so don’t take this as gospel or use as legal advice

[blckbrrybasket]

Remmick and His Missy (3)

It was maybe three weeks ago that the trinkets had started showing up. At first they were tucked on the outskirts of your property but eventually they were stacked under your window and then on your window sill. Not many people traveled to your house leaving only a few options.

A. somehow animals had been finding gifts and leaving them. B. a random person you didn’t know was leaving them. C. the only person who visited regularly was gifting them to you — which only left Remmick.

If it was Remmick then he had to be sneaking around on top of already visiting you. You weren’t entirely sure why he was trying to sneakily deliver the trinkets. You knew he at least liked you enough to keep coming back, but you never knew what ran through his head. Same as he couldn’t read your thoughts.

You were a relaxing break from those he had turned. It was a small factor as to why he hadn’t tried to transform you into a vampire — that and he liked you, proven by his new affinity for leaving you trinkets. The fables of vampires being bats were dead wrong. Remmick was certainly a crow in another life.

The thought made you snicker at the idea of Remmick hopping around and squawking…not too far off from how he complained nowadays. Imagining his face if you caught him in the act made you laugh even harder, spurred on by the mental image of Remmick flustering. Either you catch him or let him quietly carry on and where was the fun in the latter?

Waiting later that night, you laid over your bed as you relaxed, your heartbeat steady. Just outside of your unlocked window was Remmick creeping up. He clicked his tongue in concentration as he unwound the wind spinner to drape it over your windowsill. As it slipped he quickly caught it, looking up through your window.

Remmick waited a second then two, making sure your heartbeat was still steady, reassuring him that you were asleep. The tension in his chest melted away when there was no change, trying to make quick work of finding a place to put the damn thing. It was his distractedness that caused him to miss you creeping to the window from the inside.

He hadn’t even realized his mistake until the glass shuddered as it slid open. Remmick’s red eyes jerked upwards as he spotted you with a coy smirk. “Is that for me? How sweet, Remmick…” Frowning, Remmick took a step back, “Don’t try and flatter me, missy.”

“It seems like you’re trying to flatter me,” you cheekily responded. He grumbled and rolled his eyes but made no real argument against it. No, he couldn’t lie his way out of this. Instead, Remmick placed the wind spinner on the sill again and pushed it forward with one finger as close as he could to the window.

It wasn’t like he could just shove it into your hands and run like he surely wanted to. His behavior was cute though, reminiscent of a child with their first crush. Your hand curled around the edge of the wind spinner and pulled it into your house, turning it over with a smile. “It’s pretty.”

Remmick shrugged and slid his hands into his pockets. “Reminded me of you, darlin’.” The apples of your cheeks flared with a sudden creeping of heat. “Why thank you.” You grinned and did a playful curtsy, bringing it to your dresser. “Where did you get it?”

“Remmick?” You turned suspiciously at the sudden silence, peering out the window to the empty space where he had stood previously. “Dammit,” you huffed, groaning at how skittish he was with his true feelings.

[darknight3904]

All Too Well

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: After meeting Joel one late night at a bar you launch into a whirlwind romance with him. But, between a nasty breakup and the end of the world, you're left with nothing but your thoughts of the past and the way they haunt you all too well.

Warnings: 18+ Mature themes including: language, loss of virginity sexual references, SA (Not by Joel), Animal death, starvation.

Based on the song by Taylor Swift.

Word Count: 6.5k

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Winter 2023

Jackson was a town that was almost too good to be true. You had stumbled upon it nearly 7 years ago after fleeing in the middle of the night from a band of men that had captured you. Your sanctuary was just getting started then, but the group that was working there, welcomed you with open arms and as many supplies as they could spare.

It was your own little slice of paradise in this post-apocalyptic world you were stuck in. Away from FEDRA's iron fist and the horrors that evil people inflicted on others, most days you felt like you were living the life you used to back in 2003.

Of course, some things were different now. The TV in the corner of your living room was useless and most of your meals were communal in the mess hall. But, you loved it all anyway, glad to be away from the harsh world that lay outside the walls.

Even when you were assigned to clean out the horse stables, you loved your community. Jackson was your perfect little universe, undisturbed by the past and-

"Oh, shit...Joel?"

May 2003

College finals were the two scariest words one could say to you right now. Luckily for you, you had managed to somehow pass all of them this semester. Yes, you had somehow even managed an 80 on your biology exam, you still weren't quite sure how that happened. Maybe those 3am nights poured over your books did something.

"We should celebrate tonight." Your friend, Amelia suggested from her spot on the couch

"I was thinking about ordering a pizza." You sigh as you try to work out in your mind how much you have in your bank account. Perhaps you even had enough for some wings too.

"Not like that." She scoffs, " I meant we dress up real slutty and hit some bars. Get some guys to buy us drinks."

"I wanted to watch a movie tonight though." You sigh, thinking of the Blockbuster down the road. The second X-Men movie had come out a few weeks ago and you were dying to see Hugh Jackman on your screen again.

"You can spend the rest of your life as a grandma watching movies. You're only hot once." Amelia laughs

"But-"

"No buts. Your tits are gonna be at your waist one day and you'll thank me for this." Amelia declares before skipping off to her room, mumbling about which top she'd wear.

You sigh as you watch her door close. Amelia Caddel hadn't been your first choice for sharing an off campus apartment. Afterall, she was the opposite of you in so many ways. But, Miss Life of the Party had a steady deposit of allowance in her account from mommy and daddy, meaning she never missed rent, an important factor in a roomate.

"Guess you're spending the night alone." You sigh, looking down at your cat, Loki who purred, clearly wanting a treat or perhaps another heaping bowl of kibble.

Amelia fussed with your hair as the two of you entered your first bar.

"How're you going to pick up a guy if he can't even see your eyes?" She laughs

The stuffy air and the loud music, followed by a group of frat boys cheering for someone, reminded you why you never went out.

You watched with a sigh as she sought out the closest mid twenties guy she could wrestle a few drinks out of. You trailed behind, fidgeting with the skimpy black mini dress she had coaxed you into.

You'd have to hand it to Amelia, you certainly looked hot in it.

The feel of a stranger bumping into you and the sharp scent of aftershave filled your nose, and then big hands were wrapping around your waist, keeping you from stumbling.

"Shit sorry, hon." His Texan accent sent a small shiver down your spine.

"It's fine." You mumble, jumping away from the stranger's arms.

"Tommy, let's go! Quit flirtin' with the college girls!"

The man, Tommy, mumbles another apology to you before disappearing further into the bar, in search of whoever called for him.

Joel watched as his younger brother "accidentally" bumped into some silly college girl who seemed out of her element. Joel couldn't lie, it was something his brain might've come up with if he wasn't so damn tired from today's work. When was laying concrete going to get easier?

The younger Miller brother, who hadn't succumbed to back pain just yet, whispered some false apology in the girl's ears as she jumped away from him.

Joel called for him, he couldn't let Tommy terrorize some poor twenty-something girl who looked like a deer in the headlights under his brother's gaze.

"You're getting too old to be after college kids." Joel chastizes as he sits beside Tommy at the bar.

"Oh c'mon." Tommy scoffs as he orders a beer for himself and Joel.

"You're thirty, you're not some mid-twenties loser anymore." Joel points out.

"You're no fun, Joel," Tommy says with a roll of his eyes

Joel wanted to go home. He'd wanted to go home hours ago but Tommy had dragged him out after they finally finished working on their latest project, the new local Subway was nicely constructed by the Miller brothers.

Yet, here he sat, a few hours later, Two and a half beers deep, listening to Tommy try his hand at karaoke. Joel was pretty sure his ears were bleeding as his eyes scanned the bar. Most of the patrons were so drunk, they cheered Tommy on.

Joel found his eyes settling on the girl Tommy had "bumped" into earlier. She was still alone, sat across the room at a high-top table, sipping at some fruity drink. Pretty red heels were linked on the footrest of the barstool and Joel watched as she fumbled with her purse, looking for something with a deep frown across her pretty features.

If Joel didn't have a 13-year-old waiting on him back home, he might have slipped across the bar and sweet talked his way into this girl's arms. But the thought of Sarah back home, watching TV with Mrs. Addler had his ass glued to his barstool.

Instead, he observes as you finally find your phone and make a call. He watches as your features droop in disappointment as you yell over Tommy's singing to whoever was on the other end. Joel watched with a bit of amusement as you nearly fell off the stool when you went to stand up, you must've forgotten you linked those heels onto the footrest.

Joel let out a grumble of disappointment as Tommy launched into the beginning of Don't Stop Believin' by Journey. Why had he been given the world's most annoying little brother?

Joel's eyes turn back to the mystery girl and her delicate red heels just as some frat guy from Alpha Delta- who fuckin' cares, slings an arm around her waist, hand dipping too close to the hem of her skirt for Joel to be comfortable with.

As if he's on autopilot, Joel finds himself crossing the bar in long strides, ready to put a stop to whatever might come next.

"I don't see your friend now." The guy laughs as you shift your weight from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable.

Joel hears you mumble something about wanting to go home.

"I'll give you a ride."

The guy's sleazy tone has Joel cringing as he approaches. DId anyone teach these kids manners?

"Why don't you give the lady some space?" Joel suggests boldy

Alpha-Delta-Chad turns around to meet Joel's gaze, not releasing you just yet as he scoffs,

"Who the fuck are you? Her dad?"

"Just a concerned stranger." Joel nods to you in greeting, "She doesn't seem too comfortable with you, kid. Give her some room."

"How would you even know old man?" The boy asks, "You're like forty!"

Ouch. Joel was 35. Did he really look 40? Already?

"Let her go," Joel says, his voice deepening a bit

The frat boy's eyes scan Joel's figure. Either he decides you're not worth it, or that he'd lose the fight because before Joel knows it he's letting you go and murmuring another curse at Joel.

"Thank you." You breathe a sigh of relief, and a small smile graces your pretty face as Joel nods.

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

The name slips out of Joel's mouth before he can stop it and he watches in amusement as you blink away in embarrassment.

Your eyes roam across his frame and Joel can't quite place the look on your face as you...size him up?

"Could you um...walk me to the bus stop? I'd go myself but I'm worried that guy might be waiting for me outside." You ask

Joel wants to say no. He wants to stay tucked away in the bar, sipping his beer, and hope Tommy accidentally swallows the microphone he's singing into. Yet, one look into your sad, and definitely drunk eyes has him folding.

"Sure, I'll walk ya."

A warm breeze blows through the air as your savior is beside you at the bus stop. He'd insisted on waiting beside you until the bus showed up, saying something about having a daughter back home and it not being right to leave you alone out here.

"So...what's your name?" You ask, your drunk mind disliked silences.

"Joel. Joel Miller." He says, "You?"

You softly say your name, shy under his gaze.

Maybe its the three margaritas but the man next to you is hot. Short brown curly hair with dark eyes to match. Not to mention the splatter of facial hair and mustache he seemed to pull off so effortlessly. He was definitely much older than you, at least over ten years your senior. But, he was attractive in the ways all the college boys in your classes weren't.

Your eyes raked over tanned arms, toned perfectly from whatever he did to get them. You could tell he was sporting a handsome dad bod under the plain blue t-shirt on his frame. You'd never been one for a rippling six-pack, a man who'd eat pizza and ice cream with you was always going to be attractive than one who spent his days drinking protein shakes and eating eggs for "gains". Joel seemed like a guy who'd be into a binge-watch of every Star Wars movie and indulge with you in an impulsive 2am Domino's order.

"Where the hell is this bus at?"

His deep voice had you snapping from your drunken daydream of pizza and dad bods.

"Oh um..."

You're not quite sure where the bus is. Hopefully, it'd show soon. Your legs felt like a newborn deer's, no way would you be able to walk the seven and a half miles back to your apartment like this.

"Joel!"

Another voice has you and your new companion turning your heads. Another man, somehow a bit familiar in your drunk brain is approaching.

"What're you doin' man? You missed my singing."

"I heard enough." Joel huffs in annoyance

Oh, so this was the guy who was badly singing to Brittney Spears and Journey. He looked a bit more familiar though...this was the dude that had bumped into your earlier!

"Now if I'm too old to be goin' after college girls, then you're definitely too old, brother."

"I'm not...Not goin' after anyone. I'm waiting for the bus with her. Some creep was hitting on her at the bar, I'm keeping her safe." Joel groans at this man's comment.

So he wasn't interested? You felt your heart sink a bit. Of course, he wasn't interested. He had a kid for crying out loud.

Oh god, what if he had a wife? Were you daydreaming about a married man?

Your eyes jump to his left hand.

Ringless.

Well, at least you weren't fantasizing about being a homewrecker.

"The bus? It's past midnight. The bus stops running at 11:30." The new guy says, looking at his watch.

"Oh...um. I'll just go then." You say, standing up on unsteady legs. Looks like you're walking. You didn't have the money for a cab, so your legs were just going to have to tough this one out.

"Go? Go where?" Joel's friend scoffs

You ignore him, he's so weird.

"Tommy, stop it." Joel scolds

He sounds like such a dad as you laugh to yourself while smoothing your dress out.

"Do you want us to give you a ride?" Joel asks, standing up next to you

"No, I can manage the walk." You brush him off, trying to ignore the way he's so tall all of a sudden.

You were even wearing heels and he was bigger than you!

"I can call a cab," Joel suggests, watching the way your ankle nearly twists when you take a step.

"I don't have any money for one." You whimper, as the pain in your ankle shoots up your leg.

Fuck these heels. Fuck Amelia for ditching you for another bar. Fuck Joel had his stupid dad bod and tanned skin. Fuck the stupidly attractive mustache on his stupidly attractive face.

This always happened when you were drunk. First, your legs turned into literal Jello and then you'd get all weepy about nothing. At least you'd have seven miles to cry your eyes out. Hopefully, Loki would let you hold him when you got home.

"Let me give you a ride. Do you live on campus?" Joel asks his eyes widening at the tears that dribble down your face.

"I'm just gonna walk." You mumble and bush past him, forcing your legs into an unsteady match.

"That's like...an 8-mile walk," Tommy says from behind you, estimating the distance between here and the college.

"Actually seven and a half." You sass, not interested in his comments or his stupid aftershave that invaded your nose as you walked past him.

You're not entirely sure how you ended up here, in the back seat of a pick up truck while Joel drove you home. You mumbled your address to him and he'd somehow known immediately where you were living.

Hopefully, you weren't going to end up dead in a ditch tonight.

Joel watched as you rested your head against the window. He'd walked you to his truck after you got a few feet away from him before sitting down on the curb, tears running down your pretty face, mumbling something about a cat.

"Fuckin' college girls." Tommy had mumbled as he helped Joel buckle you into your seat

"Let's just get her home," Joel said

"Yeah before she turns the waterworks back on." Tommy sighed

Joel drives towards the shitty apartments they rent to college kids. Two blocks away he had once been working in a fancy new condo building, putting up drywall and laying flooring. There'd been talk about developing your area as well, but six months later the apartments of Oliver Avenue were still as shitty as ever.

Joel guaranteed you were getting ripped off by your landlord. Probably paying too much for someplace that had thin walls and bad heating. Sure enough, he was right, as he parked his trunk in front of a building that badly needed a makeover.

"Stay here." He tells Tommy who seems to be a few moments away from falling asleep in the passenger seat.

Joel pulls you from the backseat, shoving Sarah's soccer ball back under the seat when it rolls out and tries to escape.

"Alright, what floor?" Joel asks as you stand beside him, tears finally dried up.

You wordlessly begin to plod your way up the steps and murmur what sounds like a five to him.

Joel makes sure you get your door open and watches as a black cat greets you as you push the door open.

"Hi, baby." You coo at the cat, scooping him up. "Did you miss me?"

Joel feels his heart speed up as you sweet-talk your pet. He tries to banish the idea of you talking to him like that, carding your hands through his hair, rather than this little black cat with a green collar and golden bell around his neck.

"Thank you, Joel." You say as you spin around to face him

"No problem." He hums, "Glad I was able to help."

You smile at him as your damn cat meows loudly, breaking the trance you had on him.

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

"Goodnight, Joel."

July 2003

The fourth of July was serious business in Austin. From mega barbeques to fireworks that put Magic Kingdom to shame, your sleepy little college town was transformed for America's birthday.

A much-needed breeze flows through the park as you sit on the blanket you'd found shoved at the back of your closet. Summer was brutal this year, and you were sure that the Texas heat wasn't making the wait for fireworks any easier.

Your parents had invited you back home to Pittsburgh this summer. But, you found yourself more interested in staying put in Austin. Your sleepy suburb town back home would always be there, no sense in spending your summer cooped up in your childhood room. At least here you could go out whenever you wanted.

"Dad, let's go! All the good spots are going to be taken!!"

A young girl's voice drifts across the park as you turn to watch her pull what must be her father along.

"Hold on, Sarah! You're gonna make me drop all this."

"Move faster then!"

Well, shit.

Joel Miller, the savior of drunk college girls, was here in the park, walking towards you.

Your eyes widen as you take him in. At least you know it wasn't just the alcohol talking, Joel Miller was just as devastatingly good-looking now as he was a month and a half ago when he drove you home from the bar.

"H-Hi." You awkwardly stammer as he passes by you, arms full with a small cooler and a big blanket.

"Hello." He says, quickly

The double take he does is almost comical as he looks at you.

"Sarah!" He calls after the girl, "Come back here!"

"Didn't think I'd ever see you again." You smile, standing up from your own spot

"Well, I do live around here." He says with a lopsided smile that makes him look a bit more boyish.

The girl, Sarah, returns to her father's side.

"Hi." She says a bit flatly, clearly annoyed her father has stopped his march across the park to what she had deemed the perfect spot.

"Hello." You greeted her, with a soft smile.

She was so cute, with dark curly hair and black shorts paired with a pretty green and blue t-shirt. Sparkly sandals caught your eye as she stepped a bit closer to Joel, looking up at him for an explanation.

Joel introduces you to her, "I helped her out a month ago, got her home safe."

You're beyond elated he's standing in front of you again. For a little bit you swore he was a hallucination you'd dreamt up in a drunken haze. A handsome Texan man who'd driven you home safely after rescuing you from some sleaze. Amelia had scolded you for hours when she found out you hadn't gotten his number.

"Super safe." You smile at him.

Joel feels a nervous sweat break out on his forehead. Here he was with his daughter ready to watch their fireworks like they always did each year and he was flirting with a girl like he was 17 again. He'd be lying if you weren't on his mind regularly. The way you'd been dressed that night haunted him at night as he lay in bed, your sweet voice filled his ears as he went about his days. He'd wondered if you only used that tone for your cat.

"You two want to sit with me? I'm not sure if these are the best seats in the house but I do have some popcorn I can share..." You trail off, giving a smile to Sarah who enthusiastically agrees at the idea of free food.

Joel settles next to you as Sarah talks your ears off about soccer practices and the pool party Joel took her to a few weeks ago. He watches as you listen intently to his daughter's words. So rarely does a woman he's interested in take time to talk to Sarah. Yet, here you were, in college and interacting with his daughter better than most grown women did.

"So how old are you?"

Joel nudges Sarah with his shoe, doesn't she know that's a rude question? He could've sworn he taught her better.

"I'm 23. 24 this August." You say

"Wow," Sarah says

You turn away for a moment, reaching for the bag of popcorn that sits behind you. Joel's eyes widen as he watches Sarah silently mouth to him,

"She's so old!"

If you were old, did that mean he was ancient? God, how old did his daughter view him as? He could've sworn 35 wasn't that bad. Maybe it was though...

"So, 23. You're graduating soon then, yeah?" Joel asked

"I wish." You sigh, "I took a gap year after high school, and then just couldn't find the right major for a bit. I'm technically on track to become a Physician Assistant but I dunno if it's right for me."

Joel nods, he knows the feeling, not knowing if what you're doing is right. He'd felt that way when Sarah was born, and then when her mother left them, and then every time Sarah was hurt or crying, or just not perfectly happy, Joel felt that way, unsure of himself.

"You'd make a great PA, Sweetheart." Joel genuinely says, placing a hand over yours

"Thanks." You say a bit flustered at the physical contact.

"Gross," Sarah comments at what's unfolding before her eyes.

"You're gross." Joel counters, not missing a beat to tease her.

Sarah sticks her tongue out at him in retaliation, and Joel does the same.

You spend the rest of your summer with the Millers. In between public pool trips, and catching fireflies in the backyard, you somehow end up entangled with Joel. Staying up on the couch beside him, watching movie after movie when Sarah drifted off into dreamland up in her bed.

Before you know it, Joel is picking you up for dates and meeting you at coffee shops to let you talk his ears off about whatever book you've picked up for the week.

You let Joel take your virginity on a humid August night. After sending Sarah off to her friend's house you let him pull you into his room and under the sheets.

Breathless and sweaty you rest your head on his chest.

"You okay?" Joel asks quietly, running a hand up and down your back

"Mmhm." You sigh dreamily

"Didn't hurt you or nothin'?" He asks

"I'm okay, Joel." You laugh

"Just checking." He mumbles

Joel looks a bit out of place as he sits on your couch. Sarah had a week of soccer camp and the two of you decided to spend it together. Loki jumps up on the cushion beside Joel and lets out a loud meow.

"Pet him." You suggest with a shrug

"He doesn't even like me." Joel huffs staring into your cats eyes

"You nearly sat on him the first time you were here." You remind Joel of his previous crime from a week ago.

"I thought he was a throw pillow." Joel defends himself, motioning to the many pillows you and Amelia had scattered around the apartment.

"You thought I had a green-eyed pillow that meowed?"

"I dunno what you women are into, you're all so confusing."

You let out a scoff before plopping down on the couch next to him, Loki climbing into your lap and purring as you scratch behind his ears.

"The only confusing one here is you, Joel Miller."

Tommy isn't as bad as you thought he was.

Scratch that, he's fantastic, pulling out old photos of Joel from over the years. You nearly piss yourself though when he whips out an old family album. A nine-year-old Joel stares back at you as you look at an old photo of him playing tee-ball.

"Look how cute you were!" You gasp as you run your fingers across the photograph

"Joel Miller, star tee-ball player!" Tommy teases his big brother.

You smile as you watch Joel's face turn red as you take in even more photographs of him as a kid, you even see his 10th-grade photo, yes the one where he has braces and the worst case of acne known to mankind.

By the time the Texas heat begins to ease off and the leaves begin to change colors, you're head over heels in love with Joel Miller. From the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, to the way he'd dance with you in the dead of the night while the refrigerator door hung open, the light reflecting off your bodies as you laughed in his arms.

Three months, such a short time, and yet so much had happened. You tried to focus on the Anatomy lesson your professor was talking about in front of you yet you found your mind occupied with something else. It was as if you had been possessed, nothing but Joel filled your mind as you scribbled your notes onto your notebook. Anatomy class be damned, you were going to go mad thinking of him like this.

Your birthday, August 29th rolled around faster than you thought it would. You hadn't seen Joel all week. Between your classes, Sarah's soccer and school, and Joel's contracting, you had only time to talk to him briefly on the phone.

You had reached out to Joel earlier today to invite him to a small birthday party Amelia had insisted on. Nothing special, just some pizza and cupcakes, a cheap beer or two.

But now, it was going on 10:30 and Joel was nothing but a whisper in the wind. Sadness weighed on your chest as you watched the front door, hoping for a knock that would signal his arrival.

"Hey...I think we should just go to bed..."Amelia suggests softly from her spot next to you.

"No, he's coming." You mumble sadly tears tickling your waterline,

You stare at the last cupcake that sits on the coffee table. It was meant to be for Joel. You had scooped it out of the box thinking about how nice the icing looked on it. You had wanted him to have the best one in the box, even if that meant your own was a little lopsided and missing sprinkles.

Amelia pulls you into her side, letting you rest your head on her shoulder. She gently wraps her arm around you and quietly says,

"It's supposed to be fun, turning 24..."

September 2003

Three days pass before you hear from Joel again. His voice on the other end of the phone call is paralyzing as your world comes crashing down. The phone beeps as the call ends and you stand at your kitchen counter in shock, shocked that he's ending it all like this, with a phone call.

"If we had been closer in age, maybe it would've been fine."

His words bounce around in your mind as you slam your phone down on the counter. Loki jumps from his spot on the windowsill meowing as you cross the room quickly.

You pulled your covers over your head, blocking out the world as you heard Amelia return from her ethics class.

"If we had been closer in age, maybe it would've been fine."

God, that made you want to die. What did he even think of you? That you were some wide-eyed college kid who just existed in limbo for him?

You spend the next week in bed, plagued with tears and anger as you curse Joel out at least 1000 times a day. The knock at your door and Amelia entering your room with a box has you startled.

"What's this?" You sniff

"UPS guy just left it at our front door." She says before setting it on the bed and leaving you again.

You cut the box open and find your things inside it. Little things you'd left at Joel's over the summer. Hair ties, a brush, deodorant, t-shirts, and sweaters, even a photograph of you, Sarah, and him at the aquarium is nestled between the pages of a book you kept on his nightstand to read to him before the two of you dozed off. The box holds your entire relationship as you dump it out on your bed.

The scent of Joel, masculine and inviting clings to your belongings just like the way it clings to your heart.

Your hands shift through the items again, the scarf you wore to Tommy's house is missing. You had left it there and Joel had promised to return it to you.

"Who wears a scarf in Texas?" Joel snorts

"I do! And you better give it back, Miller." You groan

"I'll get it to you, sweetheart. Don't worry about it."

You wonder what has become of your scarf now. Perhaps it's sitting in a drawer in his room, nestled among his belongings, looking horribly out of place. Or maybe it's stuck in his truck, shoved under the seats under the pretense that it would make its way back to you one day.

You wonder what has become of Joel now. Perhaps he's lying in his own bed right now, thinking of you, your scarf wrapped around his hands, smelling of you and all his failures.

You wonder if this love affair bruised him the way it did you.

God, you had so many regrets.

December 2003

Cold air fills your lungs as your feet ache beneath you. Snow gently fell down as you sighed quietly. The walk into your hometown was no joke. The shitty beater car you'd stolen had died about 50 miles ago, leaving you vulnerable and scared.

Loki meowed from his crate as you quietly walked along. You shushed him and dropped a few treats behind the bars of the crate. He was going to need food soon if you intended to stay alive, your traveling companion wasn't known for holding his tongue when it came to hunger. The last thing you needed was to have an infected try to kill you because of your pet.

It had been nearly 5 days on the road now. and You'd managed to drive from Austin to Pittsburgh all on your own armed with a shotgun and a map you'd found in the glove compartment.

The past few months had been spent in Joel's basement. After things started going south outside your apartment building, you stuffed Loki into his carrier and filled a two big duffle bags with food and clothes for you and supplies for your cat before managing to somehow sneak into the parking deck and jump into your car. Amelia had never returned from her boyfriends house that night. You knew you couldn't go looking for her though, his home was nearly 25 miles away while Joel's was only 10.

It was mid-morning on September 27th when you reached Joel's place. The other neighborhood homes were empty and you nearly threw up at the sight of Mrs. Adler's mother lying face down on the driveway.

Your heart sinks when you discover Joel and Sarah are already gone. You hadn't expected them to be here yet, a part of you had hoped they'd be. It was Joel's birthday yesterday, you wondered how he'd spent his last normal day. Knowing him, he'd probably been at work all day.

You barricade the doors before slipping into the basement. Joel had spent time finishing it so it was nice for Sarah's sleepovers. You let Loki out before returning upstairs to bring down every nonperishable food item the home had to offer.

And so, there you sat with your cat, in your ex's basement, willing for him to magically appear and tell you everything was going to be okay.

March 2017

The Pittsburgh QZ was fucked. Royally fucked. The loud explosion from some truck filled your ears as you zipped your backpack shut. Loki let out a meow of protest as he disappeared in your bag. He was nearly 15 and his attitude about backpack travel wasn't improving.

You stick to the back alleys as you work towards finding an out. A decent-sized hole in a fence catches your eye and you take your chances, better than getting blown up by the Fireflies or FEDRA.

You're about 4 miles away from the carnage when a sizeable group catches your eye. They must've gotten out just like you.

A man, David, shares a can of flavorless chili with you and you sit on the ground beside him. But, the more you listen to him talk, you can't help but think he's a total nutcase. You thank him for the chili and the 8 cans of chicken noodle soup he's shared with you and decline his offer to join the group.

"We have so much to offer." He says in a soft voice, gesturing to the people scattered around eating and talking amongst themselves.

"I'll stick to just him, thanks though." You say petting Loki's head as you pull him from your backpack to place the cans of food inside.

"Suit yourself."

April 2017

You had dozed off. A rookie mistake to make in the apocalypse.

They had been on you before you knew what was happening. With nothing but a knife to your name to protect yourself, you were hopelessly outgunned.

"Look at what we have here." A deep voice booms, "A girl wondering in my woods, must be my lucky day."

A smelly man stands in front of you, and about 8 other men are circled around you. You squeeze your eyes shut as he lets a dirty finger trail over your face.

"How pretty."

A loud hiss cuts his next sentence. Loki, you brave boy, has climbed out of your backpack where he had been taking a nap. His back has hunched up and you don't miss the way his dark black fur is bristling in the low light of the sun disappearing behind the trees.

You aren't even able to try to arrange a deal for your baby as the man pulls a large knife from his belt and carelessly throws it at your cat.

A horrible screech from Loki fills your ears as the man coos at you and tells you it'll all be okay.

"We've got dinner boys!" The man who has killed your only friend in the whole world exclaims.

Your eyes slam shut as red blood begins to seep into the fabric of your backpack. The man says something about being a provider but you're too focused on choking back the tears that are forming in your eyes.

Hours later, you're tied to a tree stump, your arms behind your back. Your captors present you with a warm soup of sorts. Canned carrots and potatoes float in a clear broth but it's what sits in the center of the bowl that turns your stomach. What's left of your Loki is now being devoured by the men.

You can't do it. You had been starving, unable to catch anything for days. but you can't do it.

"Fine, don't eat." The leader and cat killer huffs as he runs his hands across your chest in an unpleasant matter, "You're going to wish you had though when we're done with you."

June 2017

The moon is your only light as you steal away into the night. Your heart is pounding but you can't or rather won't look back.

Your escape is credited to a man named Adam. He had always been softer to you than the rest. Less brutal than the others when he bent you over a tree stump and forced himself into your unwilling body, cooing in your ears about how good you felt even though you were dry.

Softer and easy to fool when you batted your eyelashes at him so he'd give you a second serving of the deer they'd killed. Gentle when he cleaned whatever wounds the others inflicted on you for their sick pleasure.

Tonight, you had used his softness against him. Crying and whimpering when he tied you to a tree, saying the restraints were too tight. He'd of course taken pity on you and loosened them before kissing your forehead and walking off to sleep.

It had been easy to slip out of the ropes thanks to Adam. You stole his backpack and stuffed it with as much deer jerky as you could get your hands on before snatching a gun off Adam's unknowing form.

Now, you were stumbling through the night, hoping to put as much distance between you and the men as possible.

Nearly three weeks had passed and you were still somehow free. The men hadn't found you and you were deep into the wilderness. Your freedom was something you had yearned for since the moment Loki had died. Yet, here you were, starving and wasting away because you couldn't kill anything to eat.

You drag your body into an old concrete building that was being used to control some form of dam. You rested your head on your backpack, thinking of how far you'd come.

Strangely though, you thought of your past. Fuzzy images of a college classroom came into your brain. Amelia's long blonde hair and the way she'd style it perfectly each day. Texas summers, filled with heat and perfectly seasoned barbeque.

What you wouldn't do for a big plate of ribs right now.

And then the curly hair of a little girl is dancing around your mind. Her warm laughter fills your mind as you think of Sarah Miller. With her sparkle filled sandals and her strange interest in gore filled horror films. You wondered if she was still out there somewhere. Perhaps stuck in some QZ with Joel.

Joel.

You think about Joel. You're sure you've thought of him more in the past three months than you did your whole relationship. Every night when one of your captors, or sometimes multiples had you every which way, you'd try to think about other things. Those other things often divulged into Joel and how gentle he'd been with you. Oh, how you missed his warm arms and soft southern twang. Hou you yearned for him even now. Your only real relationship experience was something you just couldn't let go.

When you were finally found by Maria, you were nearly ready for death. Brain filled with delusional thoughts of the past and starving, she had hoisted you up on her horse and rode off to Jackson, praying this mystery woman wouldn't die on the way there.

Winter 2023

You nearly fall over when his tired eyes meet yours. The loud voice of a young girl fills your ears.

"Do you two know each other?"

You push the stable door open to get a better look at the man who stands before you. For so many years you had pictured the man you dated for a few months, not trying to imagine the way the end of the world might've changed him. Your mind can't reconcile the Joel you once knew and the one before you.

For starters, he looks so tired. Graying curly hair sits atop his head, a salt and pepper beard adorns his face. Even his frame has changed, the winter coat he wears hides it but you can tell he's become riddled with muscle to take on the harsh outside world. The only thing that seems the same is his mustache, somehow untouched by time.

"Joel, wait up! There's something I gotta tell ya!"

Tommy's loud voice carries from wherever he is and you want to laugh at the younger Miller brother. Of course, he was going to try to intercept your meeting. Too bad he was too slow.

"Joel? Hello? Do you know her?" The girl asks again.

You glance at her, she can't be more than 14 or 15. Her pale skin is rosy against the cold Wyoming winter. She looks at you, probably for an answer since all Joel is doing is staring at you, most likely in shock.

Eventually, though, the man of the hour opens his mouth to speak,

"No, I don't know her."

This is my first time writing for Joel, hope you enjoyed :)

Next Part

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@lunaticgurly @orcasoul

[mamayura]

Okay but what's crazy is that the episode does subtly reveal that Adrien did keep it a secret from Marinette that he's more than silent jogging buddies with Sublime

In the beginning, Marinette says that when she asked Adrien if he and Sublime talk when they go running he always says "no". This is factually correct as we find out in the end through Sublime:

But there is obviously something not adding up here. Sublime literally says "Outside of running, of course Adrien and I talk". They just arent talking in any of their morning runs because Sublime in particular is doing it as serious training. So no talking because that would impact their breathing, but outside of that? Well, yeah, duh.

And that makes sense

Adrien and Sublime are in the same ancient Greek class, of course they would talk. I'm gonna go with the assumption that this is why Sublime started running by his side, because they vaguely knew each other from Greek class and when they crossed each others running paths one morning they were familiar enough to just run together in silence

Look, I- I dont know how to put this more elegantly, so I'll rip off the bandaid. The vibes I'm getting from this episode are that Adrien was more than cool with not talking anyway because he deliberately keep his friendship with Sublime a secret from Marinette because he knew Marinette would be weird about it and that made him uncomfortable.

He knows his girlfriend and she's peanut-butter-and-jealous.

And the thing is, as much as this certainly is a complicated topic with a lot of factors to consider for both sides, the way the episode had Marinette go about all this...

... the episode proved him RIGHT. He was right to be too uncomfortable with letting Marinette know about being friends with Sublime. She merely found out that they were running together in silence and proceeded to not only keep watching them each morning and taking photos, Marinette even proceeded to stalk the hell out Sublime:

No, this isnt normal. This isnt a "quirky girlfriend" thing to do, or "funny haha". Its one of the reason why Adrien didnt feel comfortable letting her know.

And, I mean, yeah. I can't blame him for it, can I? :I

Later on, Sublime is very quick to piece together that the girl hiding behind them is Adrien's girlfriend. Not the thing I would immediately go with, unless of course Adrien did already vaguely mention having a girlfriend to Sublime at one point. Then yes, her coming to this conclusion after Marinette followed her all day makes a lot more sense. Even if those are not.. nice implications. The episode does go on playing it straight at first that Marinette is the weird and a bit alarming girlfriend.

Look, you can pretty this up if you like, but for me, Adrien is clearly a solid bit uncomfortable and very apologetic here to Sublime because of Marinette's behavior. Sublime too is being nice about it to a degree you shouldnt take for granted. She would have had been perfectly justified in saying something else entirely. Adrien is trying to be a good boyfriend about this, but Marinette is out here proving him right in having struggled with wanting her to know about Sublime. Marinette has been following her around all day, Sublime noticed, and Adrien is doing good faith damage control here by telling Sublime that Marinette has good intentions and only wants to be her friend.

Something, though, that the episode clarified 3 times wasnt really the case:

It is so weird that at the core of the problem for both sides of Adrinette WAS Marinette being peanut-butter-and-jealous.

Marinette did NOT try to befriend Sublime out of some pure-hearted desire to know her. She did so because she feared that Adrien could end up not loving her anymore if she doesnt gain some control over the Sublime situation real quick

And Adrien DID keep his friendship with Sublime a secret from Marinette because, well, was he wrong?

And thats the thing. The episode just DROPS this in favor of saying that Marinette only had these pure-hearted intentions to know her when that isnt true. The episode proved Adrien alarmingly RIGHT in his gut feeling to keep Sublime a secret from Marinette, they just-

They just didnt let him know about any of it as if that makes it any less true. I would understand it if this episode had been entirely about tackling this issue for good. Adrien not being wrong for feeling uncomfortable with letting Marinette know about any new female friends and then Adrien gets proven right, but the situation is saved by Marinette's secondary desire of befriending Sublime.

Sure, not the plot of my choice, but I would GET IT because it would actually cover the given problem. Here it is... they didnt do it. Adrien was proven right, Marinette did everything wrong to Sublime that was possible and ended up breaking her prosthetic and ruined the sponsorship with a combo of Marinette's and Ladybug's harmful inconsideration.

Marinette did exactly what Adrien was afraid of... and they just DON'T resolve the initial Adrinette core of this issue. It's still ongoing. Marinette didnt even get to react in the end to finding out that Adrien did keep her in the dark about talking to Sublime:

I guess for now the explanation for that will be that Adrinette switched positions in this for once and now it's Marinette who isnt questioning it enough that Adrien only said the truth to her going by the technicality of "She only ask him if they talk while running".

Obviously, this is not how it works. He kept her in the dark. And whether he was right to doing so or not isnt important for the feeling I'm getting that this is just the beginning of a streak of similar problems like this. The postponed resolution to this will happen at a later point, and knowing Miraculous, they'll do it after it escalates to hell.

We already saw it in "Illustrhater" and the synopsis for "Werepapas" for example also sounds like Marinette will not stop here being a questionable girlfriend

I just dont understand why they would keep on DOING that?

[bannock-freak]

the disparity in how the girls view saiki entertains me also btw

rifuta imagines saiki as a debonair and oh so dangerous playboy with his shirt unbuttoned, shimmering eyes, and glamorous hair. she's actually completely replaced a memory with this scenario too instead of making something up wholesale.

yumehara imagines saiki as soft and rounded with big guileless eyes - completely nonthreatening in other words, which she somehow combines with the edward cullen creep factor because in her imagination he likes to sniff her hanky....?????

teruhashi imagines him as mostly himself, just with a complete personality switch. unless it's during art class in which case you either get plainer-than-satou or bishoujo-romance-kun. so apart from those instances, you could say that she understands certain pieces of his character, but overrides the others completely to her own preferences. IE 'Kunio' vs 'Kusuo'.

aiura doesnt have nearly as many imagine spots iirc, probably since, of the girls, she knows saiki the best? and iirc she seems to know it's more fantasy than reality. she accepts that this version of him lives in her head. but she's probably the closest of all of them there, too, albeit she's ramped a certain part of his personality WAY up. saiki is prone to giving mischievous and charming grins like below but he wouldn't say that in a thousand years.

(i also think it's very funny that yumehara and kaidou's interpretations of saiki are very freaking similar)

of the girls, rifutas and aiuras fantasies are the most similar and yumehara and teruhashi's are the most similar. i think they all have things in common with saiki - if you mash them all together, you might get a character that's somewhat similar - but ofc they're certainly not him.

it's also interesting which pieces of him they play up and play down, and who of them most commonly use him as a prop to uphold their egos. rifuta makes up a completely different character, yumehara idealizes him to an enormous extent, teruhashi doesn't mind his appearance but doesn't prefer his natural personality (though i think she warms up to that aspect of him as they get to know each other) and aiura, well... manga readers know whats up there. but again, she likes his face and she really likes it when he shows his domineering side - but that's only one aspect of his personality.

it's too bad that of the boys the only one who has imagine spots of him is kaidou, at least to my recollection. would've been fun to compare and contrast those too. for example what do 'shadow leader' and 'partner' and 'master' look like?

anyways idk. just thinking lol

PS some Official Saikis that alignish with the above headcanons

aiura - rifuta

teruhashi - yumehara

[grogumaximus]

On the eve of what might be the hardest fought championship of his career opening in Melbourne this weekend one thing is clear, Max Verstappen will not go gently into that night. The defending Formula One world champion, never one to shy away from speaking his mind, a compelling character trait reflected in his driving, is eyeballing the opposition and demanding they bring it on.

The 27-year-old took his fourth consecutive F1 title last season, the toughest since his first, the titanic battle with Lewis Hamilton that ended controversially in Abu Dhabi, in 2021. In both, when the Dutchman was pushed to the limit, to scrap tooth and nail, he was uncompromising, an elbows-out battler, obdurate, driven by belief in himself and the righteousness of the Verstappen cause.

Out of the car his generally easy-going persona belies this steel but it is there in the eyes and the conviction of his voice. As he leans back to consider his attitude to racing, to quote Rotten, J, he means it, man. 

“I do whatever is needed,” he says, with finality. “I try to always go for it when I think it’s right to do so.

“It’s just how I am. I will always go for it when I think it’s possible, whatever other people call it. You might agree with it or not but I just battle the way I think I need to battle.”

His acknowledgment that some diverge from his opinion is a concession to the debate sparked whenever Verstappen is feisty on the track. Depending on the viewpoint, he is a rare, exceptional, misunderstood genius and there are no shortage of fans who subscribe to this. Or ranging from reckless and even dangerous, as many concluded when he clashed with Hamilton at Monza taking them both out in 2021, to unsporting and contemptuous of rules, as his protagonist last season, McLaren’s Lando Norris, certainly believed when he was the victim of aggressive attacking and defending in Mexico last year.

But, well, whatever. Because Verstappen does not care. The criticism that such driving tarnishes his reputation is the gnawing of gnats on an elephant hide. 

“I don’t tell you or someone else how they should live their lives or what they should do in life,” he says. “Everyone should just focus on themselves. I think my behaviour is good. If someone else disagrees, that’s their problem. It’s not my problem, is it?”

As F1 prepares for a 24-race season the issue is more pertinent than ever. He will probably face an almighty scrap, not least from Norris and his McLaren teammate, Oscar Piastri, with Hamilton, Charles Leclerc, Ferrari and Mercedes all looking to join the party while Red Bull, on the early form in Melbourne, have still to solve the problems that wrecked their car for the second half of last year.

"I will always go for it when I think it’s possible ... It’s just how I am"

Yet Verstappen has beaten them all over the past four seasons and for two of those, 2022 and 2023, was imperious. His driving style was barely discussed because he was so quick, so consistent and so relentless.

Success has come at a price, though. At the F175 launch event last month in London, to celebrate the sport’s 75th anniversary and open the new season, Verstappen was roundly booed. He has declined to enter into a debate on why the crowd reacted as it did. However, he was forthright on considering why some do not appreciate his achievements.

 “They’re just jealous. Jealous of success,” he says.

“My dream was to get to F1 and be successful. I’ve achieved that and people that can’t appreciate that, they’re jealous. So that’s fine for them. But it’s not correct, because jealousy doesn’t bring you anywhere in life. I don’t do it for the people, I’m not there to please people that don’t appreciate me.”

This is Verstappen writ large and it must be considered a fundamental factor in why he is a four-time champion. You cannot look through F1’s history without finding greats who shared such iron-willed conviction, not least Ayrton Senna and Michael Schumacher.

“You create your own success,” Verstappen says. “And I’ve created my own success with very important people around me. Of course, part of that success is with the team. All these people that I’m working with and that are close to me, they value that success. That’s what it’s about. And I am very happy with what I have achieved in this sport. That is the most important thing.”

His honesty is striking and endearing. Verstappen, like Hamilton, is unafraid of putting himself out there just as he is, for all that such an unapologetic attitude could vex those who have taken against him.

Last year, when the team’s performance fell away mid‑season, he was unequivocal in his disapproval, describing his ride as an “undriveable monster” and demanding Red Bull remedy it forthwith. Very much part of a frank relationship he enjoys with the team. No one inside Red Bull has anything but positive words to say about Verstappen and a belief he is driven only by a desire for them all to succeed. During the travails of last season what was perceived as a clash between driver and team was part of this process.

“My relationship with them didn’t change because we are always very honest with each other,” he says. “If I make a mistake it’s also said. We have a very open relationship, we’re very straightforward. So when it’s good it’s good, when it’s bad it’s bad. That’s how we approach it. That works the best if you want to perform at the highest level.”

It is hard not to wonder if that level of honesty can be uncomfortable or even painful?

“Not for me,” is Verstappen’s unsurprisingly blunt response. “It’s how I grew up. When things need to be said, they are said. Some people take that a bit more easy, it’s a personality thing but overall it is well received. We are all part of the process.”

When Verstappen made his debut in F1 at 17 years old, he was its youngest ever driver. There followed a steep learning curve, not all of it pretty and not all of it edifying, but pretty much impossible to ignore. A period that forged him such that he insists he would change nothing of those formative years. 

“It’s important that you make certain mistakes in life and some bits that hurt,” he says.

“In terms of missing out on a result or making a mistake, it’s important to have that hunger to try to improve. If you know everything in advance, how to do it correctly, it’s very boring. You make some mistakes, it’s not nice at the time, but sometimes you need a hard lesson to become better.”

Compelling as a man and driver, however you regard him, he enlivens the sport and his rivals go into 2025 knowing too well, given all those hard lessons learned, Verstappen will only go down fighting. Who would have it any other way?

[woodland-gremlin]

Summoning Your Secret Boyfriend Pt. 6

First Previously AU Summary

“‘Even’ nothing. Now we are going to drop this, summon the new King, beg them for forgiveness and for them to deal with Trigon, and fix those disastrous laws!” Constantine declared while pulling out a book with a strange aura out of his coat pocket.

Red Robin internally sighed in relief. They were finally getting somewhere. He had been worried that they would be stuck getting integrated until Trigon was right on top of them. Not that it would stop them from getting questioned after the whole fiasco was over, but, small mercies.

From the way Batman was glaring at Supernova and Red Robin it was even more obvious that the Bat wouldn’t let it go. The only thing stopping him being the pressing matter with Trigon and the occult magician being very willing to yell at him if he kept poking. Though it did make Red Robin wonder how he planned to do so, it wasn’t like he lived at the manor anymore. No one but Alfred noticed that the only time they saw him was at the cave, and even that was rare. Really makes one question about the ‘World’s Greatest Detective’ title that Batman held. Danny certainly doesn’t think so with all his nicknames for him, and after the last few years he was inclined to agree. You really shouldn’t meet your heroes.

The Laughing Magician worked and while watching him make the summoning circle Red Robin and Supernova were suddenly glad that neither offered to make it. If they did they might have never stopped getting questioned. Even Constantine would have probably joined them with how differently their summoning circle would be. While the con man made an intricate circle with the title of Ghost King being the main factor, with candles placed at significant points and fancy offerings, the two boyfriends had a much simpler approach. The biggest differences being name and title. They call Danny by name, which makes it significantly easier than a broad title to summon him. Add on to the fact that most of the titles that Constantine are using are only Danny’s by default the ease in summons is a lot easier. Though them being his boyfriends and offering snacks plays a big factor in it too.

The occult magician then began to chant in Esperanto. Candles began to flicker, changing to Relam’s green. The room’s temperature began to drop, frost creeping across the floor and walls. Wind that shouldn’t be possible in a space station whipped around, flipping Batman and Superman’s capes over their heads. A neon green crack appeared in the air above the summoning circle. Claws clutching the tear in reality before ripping it further.

Out from the tear in reality stepped out an ethereal being. White hair that moved like it was underwater. Lavender skin with freckles spaced out like constellations. Bright green lighting birch scars crawling over their body, cutting all the up to their brow. Eyes glowing the same erie color with the one the scar cut through being that singular color, sclera and all. A crown seemingly made of aurora lights and ice, radiating power. A fur lined coat seemingly made from space only added to the otherworldliness, A ring shaped like a skull, signaling the being as one of death. Armor with small dents here and there showing that it isn’t just for decoration. That this being that they summoned was a fighter, a King forged in battle.

 Everyone but Red Robin and Supernova froze. They thought that they were prepared. They knew that they would be powerful, enough that they could rule over beings like Trigon. But no words could have prepared them for the aura bearing down on them. All their bravo was drained out of the minute they were subjected to the King’s presence. Aquaman was especially shaken. He was a King as well but he felt like nothing compared to the one in front of him. Like a big fish in a small pond thrust to face the ruler of the ocean.

“Were you the ones that summoned me, freeing from the bane that is paperwork?” the being asked.

To be continued . . .

Next

[iteratorsex]

Entanglement, Impurity, and Kegare in Rain World

I mentioned before in another post that I would touch on the topic of impurity, rot, and kegare and how it continuously reappears in Vanilla and ESPECIALLY Watcher. Here it is.

But yes, it can't really be understated how important these are to the themes lore of ascension and entanglement in RW and the dichotomy that exists

This topic relates to FP, Hunter, Watcher, and the Ancients. It's all over the place man.

I actually got this idea from Darthz, who was the one who brought it up to me initially. I'm just expanding on it and writing it all down further

What is Kegare and Why Am I Bringing It Up

Kegare is a Shinto concept. Specifically it represents pollution alongside magakoto (abnormality) and tsumi (imperfection). The avoidance of these taboos itself is called imi. Though I'm only mentioning kegare, technically I am referring to all 3 of these terms (to make things easier)

It was accumulated through and/or caused by being victim of disaster, proximity to death, being physically unclean, committing terrible actions, or even childbirth (for sexism reasons. Don't worry about it)

It operates very similarly to karma, being determined by cause and effect and was amoral and natural. Though it was taboo, and those who may have had it were avoided, it was not out of sinful reasoning

"Also, suffering is not regarded as a form of punishment for human behavior, but, rather, as a natural element of human experience."

Having too much kegare would bring more misfortune, illness, and disaster with whoever carried it

About the Ancients and Karma Gates

The ancients themselves seem to ALSO have a taboo of a similar nature.

"May Not as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres Grey Hand, Impure Blood, Inheritable Corruption, Parasites, or malfunction settle in Your establishment."

Though this isn't much to go off of.

Though maybe we can look to some outside sources. The steam released by the karma gates is said to be decontaminating. This is big. This is huge

Here you can see the steam coming out of either a vent below the grate, or coming off a heating coil, before the other side opens up.

These gates exist and were built in order to filter out and decontaminate whoever passes through, similar to harae. You wouldn't want any impurities passing through your temples and homes and facilities, would you?

"...and when the production was automated it would generally remain on the same site. So that the old stones could... radiate the material with holiness, I suppose."

Even in industrially automated processes, there was some spiritualism involved. Decontamination may have been pretty important as to not dirty up those so called holy stones

You see these gates in front of the AU voidbath and the path to FP in a long hallway. You even see it in Verdant Waterways, which may have just been a huge water purification plant! So the decontamination is still a factor there

Ancient Urban, FP's Roof, and Verdant Waterways in order.

"I was embalmed, adorned, readied for the journey."

If being dunked in void fluid required you to first be embalmed and sterilized, what does that imply? There was a worry of decomposition or decay when it came to the process of ascension.

About Five Pebbles and Hunter

Now seeing how kegare exists within the beliefs or actions of the Ancients and how much they wanted to prevent it from settling, what about seeing the consequences for yourself?

Five Pebbles contracted the rot after essentially killing Moon, something that would cause kegare (or, specifically tsumi here). He tried to break his taboos and ended up entangling himself further and also terribly hurting someone else, bringing with him sorrow that he tries to make up for in Hunter (see how often he mentions Moon?)

Though yes, it was CERTAINLY caused by him fucking up an experiment. Metaphorically, it is a form of kegare

Even the wording for the rot. Unfortunate... corruption... its a natural but terrible thing that happens

"He's sick, you know. Being corrupted from the inside by his own experiments.""...on his first fit of corruption he dumped a lot of infected material there..."

I even feel that the one off dialogue about FP and not using holy ash was subtle foreshadowing to what he's experiencing

Even in the only other place rot appears and spreads in is an actual DUMP!

But what about Hunter?

I believe that Hunter and Five Pebbles are intended to be narrative parallels to each other, having tried to change themselves in an act of desperation, but failing and contracting a disease.

"We both have something... unfortunate growing in us."

But how did Hunter get this "unfortunate" disease? Is it even The Rot?

Well... it's not directly the rot. But it's confirmed to be RELATED to it.

As for the cause of Hunter's disorder? I think this quote from the 1.5 kickstarter announcement can answer part of it.

"...It is a being pushing beyond the confines of its place in the ecosystem, and thus is karmically imbalanced in this world."

This is likely because of the fact that Hunter CHOSE to start killing and eating meat when it previously did not need to. It engaged with unsanitary acts of eating raw meat and hunting and killing, possibly out of desperation

And considering Hunter's disease, this and the karmic imbalance could very much be tied into each other. The fact that Hunter also accepts to deliver the Green Neuron, when it could have simply abandoned at any point, also shows that they're willing to also make up for the misfortune they carry, similar to Five Pebbles

Whatever it is, its clear disease, desperation, and karmic alignment all correspond and relate to each other. This desperation which is entangling, and which the Drainage pearl warns about, how struggling in the fishing net only results in you being more tangled in it

Also, the use of unfortunate in that pearl is not lost on me

"It says that the world is an unfortunate mess."

About Watcher

Watcher definitely ALSO leans into the uncleanliness aspect, as you can tell with the absurd amount of rot that's around everywhere

As well as this... there are no karma gates. The warps cannot cleanse you of whatever you carry between regions. Both ST and Watcher are like 2 kids dragging mud (rot) with them where they go

"So glad I cannot sniff! Spoiled meat, dissolving proteins. Yeeck."

There are entire regions dedicated to just this raw Pollution. It's disgusting and dirty and nobody wants to be in it, yet its clear this is just a natural thing. An unfortunate reality

The rot IS just straight up entanglement and the embodiment of the cycle itself, only existing to Consume and Reproduce. Its sticky and web-like, it corrupts and eats and decays. It's pretty in your face about what it is. The fact FP caught it while being desperate...? But I already talked about that before.

As well as this, Outer Rim is caked in mud, and so is Badlands (which warps to Unfortunate Evolution). These are the only places currently that have mud at all, and both lead to rot one way or another. The regions themselves Are Just Disgusting

Not to mention Station Annex (which also leads to UE) is just littered with lizard corpses...

Conclusion

Rot is kegare. A pollution of existence that is brought by disaster or terrible actions, and which causes misfortune and brings even more disaster

The Ancients themselves must have known of this- or at least known of a similar phenomenon to the rot with the same root and effect, and so built karma gates and continued practices to keep themselves clean while they lived and while they ascended

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

is rwy'n vs dwi'n a matter of regional/dialectical differences or is it a case of they have different vibes and one is more unusual to hear than the other

Dialect. They sound completely different, but they're actually just different contractions/abbreviations of the more formal (but technically not real and certainly not used) version, which is Rydw i'n. In the South (broadly) you drop the D and turn the resulting phoneme into 'wy' via Accent. In the North (broadly), you drop the first syllable. In the West you go for the Secret Third Option, which is "Wi'n" - dropping the first syllable, but to the MAX. Of course, in the South there's also the slang option of Fi'n, which comes from the pronoun "fi" (me) rather than the first person singular form of the verb 'to be'.

With all of that said, though, these are not hard and fast geographic boundaries, and learners make this more complicated. When I was in primary school and first learning Welsh in the south east, I was taught to use Rwy'n. Then I got to secondary school and that got switched to Dwi'n. Dunno why. A lot of factors, I imagine, part of which is almost certainly that the manufactured learner dialect of Cymraeg Byw prefers it because it likes to simplify Welsh grammar and try to unite the dialects like the fucking Avatar or some shit, and by the time I made it to secondary school we were far enough after the Welsh Language Act that Welsh lessons were now formalised, rather than the domain of one mildly insane peripatetic Welsh teacher who toured every school in the valley once a week called Nerys Snowball.

"Rydw i'n" is Cymraeg Byw, incidentally, which is why I say it's technically fake and never used. Genuine formal literary Welsh would say "Yr wyf yn". But it's a very logical construct - if the negative is Dydw i'n, and the question form is Ydw i'n... makes sense to create Rydw i'n, right? They did the same thing with third person singular, and although no one uses Rydw i'n without shortening it, you can always spot a learner when they say "He isn't."

North: Tydi o ddim

South: Dyw e ddim

Cymraeg Byw: Dydy e/o ddim

It's one of those quirks that just stuck. ANYWAY. This is a much longer answer than you wanted, sorry

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Forty - Layers

Part Thirty Nine

———

Kaiju, definition - a giant monster of a type featured in Japanese fantasy and science fiction movies, television, and novels. It is essentially a Japanese term that is commonly associated with media involving giant monsters. 

The term became commonplace when the attacks started in 1984, initially becoming the replacement term for the Japanese media as they described what was happening in the pacific. It later would bleed into western media, as to avoid the term alien and cause greater panic. 

A foreign enemy from space, these Kaiju would cause around a billion deaths in the first thirty years of the war, and still remain mostly a mystery.

To those familiar with the Quintesson (Kaiju’s for Earth’s naming practice) it would become painfully obvious that a majority of the Quintessons that have gone to and attacked Earth are low level scout soldiers. All similar in design with the simple purpose of obtaining materials for study, whether those be organic in nature or otherwise. 

Causing damage and death are hardly limiting factors in their function, their needs outway those of any other planet, society, or species. 

It’s exactly why they have maintained the fight going on for thirty years, there is not anything that will stand in their way of their goals and the things that do stand in their way are certainly worth studying. Or destroying. 

—

A nearby speaker squawked out something that sounded vaguely like Catalina, just as Jazz’s foot collided with it, “Sorry.” Hound cracked a bit of a smile, the rubble was disheartening enough without the speakers struggling. 

Hound was still holding Mirage up and only takes one glance at him before looking around, “Right, I need my pilots and then for the rest of you to fuck off for some cover, I mean no offense but you’re all a lot more hurt than would be useful right now.” Optimus sort of stared, glancing at the pilots.

They didn’t look to be in any better of a state then the Cybertronian’s, but looks were deceiving with them, “Alright,” Hound nodded slightly, “Prowl, if you could contact the closest unit to our location and try to get some backup, it would be appreciated. Especially any seekers.” Prowl nodded slightly, though his hold on Jazz didn’t let up.

Looking around, Hound takes a breath, “You guys feel alright to get to some cover?” Knockout glanced up to Optimus, “I’ll need help moving Megatron and I think someone will have to help Mirage.” With a nod, Bluestreak moves over, “I’ll help Mirage, we can go to the under-layer for some cover.” Hound carefully helps Mirage to Bluestreak, but grabs the front of Bluestreak’s plating and holds him close for a second.

Turning off the translator, “If he comes back to me with any more damage than he currently has, I will be pissed.” Bluestreak’s optics cycle once with confusion, but Hound levels a look at Prowl who nods slowly. 

He turns the translator back on and looks around, “Well, are you going to stand around or get out of here?” Slowly, the cybertronian’s left and Hound looked around at the pilots, “You all alright for this fight? If not, follow them.” He gestures loosely towards the Cybertronian’s.

Sunstreaker had left his arm in Bluestreak’s care, but bounces on the toes of his suit, “You kidding me? This is what we were built for.” He shot a glance towards his brother, Sideswipe was quick to ping them all.

Turning on their cameras, Hound tried not to laugh, or cry.

They all looked like hell, their assistance suits and suits themselves only doing so much to protect them from such concussive force. 

Jazz’s face was swollen, one of his eyes almost swollen shut. 

Breakdown had a gash across his jaw but otherwise seems fine. 

Sideswipe had clearly been crying but most of his face was covered, visor and oxygen mask hiding all but his red eyes from view. 

Sunstreaker had a black eye forming and it looked like his nose might be broken or it had at least bled a lot. 

Then he was able to see himself on a separate monitor, sure everything hurt but he hadn’t thought it was that bad.

He had busted open his lip and knocked out one of his teeth somehow, a bruise was forming across the side of his face and there was a trickle of blood coming from under his helmet. 

They all looked at each other and first there was a smile, then someone covered their mouth to hide the slight giggle, then they were all laughing. None of them could stop even as tears sprung to their eyes, gasping painfully. Waving his hand, Hound cleared his throat, “Alright, alright, we look and feel like shit but right now we need to bring the Quints to us.” He gestures lightly towards the sky.

Nodding a bit, Breakdown sighs, “Well, I can get them down but I think my suit’s head will come off with it.” With a hum, Hound looks up, “We don’t have much other choice, your head is reattachable but the city is not.” He moved over to Breakdown though, “But you don’t have to do it,” Shrugging, Breakdown looked up, “Yeah, but Iacon is our home now.” And that was enough. 

Shifting, Hound looks around, “Alright then, get to positions that will work while Breakdown brings them down. Brace for any impact then we’re going to move in, do what we do best.” Sunstreaker ran towards the edge of the rubble, sliding over a sheet of metal. Hound took a slow breath and moved back towards where He’d du Mirage up.

Sitting on the edge, he assembles his rifle and gets down as Jazz and Sideswipe move to the other side of the rubble. Carefully, Breakdown braces his feet against the rubble as his cannon hums to life.

”Arcturus, get ready and brace.” Hound’s voice went level, “You know, each time you say that it really warms my heart.” Jazz smirked a bit and Hound rolled his eyes, “Arcturus would not even exist without you pal, now focus up.” 

Breakdown’s canon was painfully loud, booming so loud it broke windows in the nearby buildings. The ship above shuddered once and started to fall.

Sideswipe stares, “What the fuck.” Nodding a bit, Hound sighs and lines up his sights, “Yeah, this is going to hurt.” When the bay door opened, he started firing.

—

The underlayers were rarely used now, other than for shelter when there were attacks near to the city. They weren’t alone down there, multiple nearby residential buildings having evacuated but they took over one of the older abandoned storefronts. 

Most of the rest of the crowd were in the designated and refurbished evacuation areas, well stocked and well lit, but going to one of those would require them to be cleared and guards which he didn’t have. The Prime could go most places with one guard and the Lord Protector, considering the state of both for the moment where they were at would have to do. 

He couldn’t help but pace, even with his dented and scraped armor, leaving the humans up on the surface by themselves was selfish. But he couldn’t leave his side, not now. Optics flicking over quickly, Optimus anxiously picked at his servos. 

Megatron was still unconscious, there being more than dents in his plating, a metal pole through his chassis that they hadn’t seen till he was laid out on the floor of all places. It made his spark ache sharply, even as Knockout worked on him, maintaining his stasis. 

Turning, he nearly jumped as Bluestreak set Sunstreaker’s arm down on the floor. The bracer glinted in the light for a moment and he watched Blue bow his helm, functioning optic dimming for the moment. Looking around, his spark spun and clenched painfully, it was the subtle things he noticed first.

The way Prowl was working, but with every noise from the surface his optics would flick as if checking his comm. Knockout whose helm was bent to the work but the light touches of blue paint on his servos and arms showed the connection enough. Even Mirage was jittery, though still out of it, he was staring up at the ceiling as if he was trying to see through it.

Their connections to those on the surface were stronger than he thought., romantic interests or not, he could feel it in the space. Through their fields the love and anxiety whipped around like the wind off the rust sea. 

Optimus moved slowly back over to Knockout and Megatron, lowering himself to the ground carefully. Turning his attention back to Megatron, he carefully brushed his digits over the mechs faceplates, never having wanted more in than in this moment to see his optics light up.  

But he could be patient, only in cases such as this, but still, patient. 

The ground above them shook with the first concussive fires of guns and cannons and Optimus let out a shaky vent, bowing his head and offlining his optics to pray. He wasn’t sure at this moment, for the first time in eons, if he was praying to Primus or whatever god the humans seemed to believe in. 

As the ground above continued to shake, he continued to pray, resting his services lightly on Megatron’s shoulders. Desperate for the connection they’d been depriving themselves of for these months. 

—

It took only a moment for them to light up the sky, turning on sound suppression, as Breakdown’s cannon went off and Hound’s rifle racked quickly before joining in the cacophony of noise. He tried hard not to wince, even as the ship above them listed and Quintessons started to come out.

These ones were bigger, why were they bigger then they normally were, “Fuck!” Sideswipe was moving back towards Sunstreaker, the pair taking each others backs with a practice that most other pilots wouldn’t know.

Hound’s throat tightened painfully, it took him a moment to close his eyes so he could strap on his oxygen mask, “I’d recommend we all wear our oxygen masks for this, I think we’ll need it.” He glances over to where they all were on screen, more in the corner of his vision than the actual screens. 

Each scrambled to do so, “How are we supposed to fight them when their way up there?” Sunny was staring up at the sky, eyes wide. With a hum, Breakdown shakes his head, “They’ll come down, don’t fret, just wait.” His cannon was painfully loud. 

It was through his scope, Hound watched as the ships engines spluttered and it slowly started to come down, Quints bailing out, “Twins, this is on you.” Both strange up as the first Quintessons came down. Hovering menacingly, Sideswipe moved first, bracers up and nearly glowing.

Sunstreaker took his back, arm up though shaking lightly, it wouldn’t be easy for him with just one, “Jazz, join them if you can.” Hound was still aiming at the sky, trying to take down some of them before they could reach the ground while Breakdown blew apart their ship to prevent the worst of the debris. 

They’d never got to fight like this back on Earth, but those first six months had given them just enough practice as a team for moments like these.

The moments they had been split up to avoid, or really, spirit up to survive until.

Jazz slid in next to Sideswipe with ease and when the Quint’s drew close, they sprung. It was almost beautiful, the way they were able to dispatch them, then chaos erupted. 

Disconnecting the rifle barrel from his gun, Hound joined the fray, keeping a close eye on Sunstreaker though he was holding his own very well all things considered. One armed army.

For the first several minutes, their comms were near silent, Breakdown’s cannon booming, Hound’s gun humming, and the ragged breaths of the strikers made it Eire.

”How do you think they got so close to Iacon?” Sunstreaker’s voice was already strangled, breathing heavily with effort, and Hound shrugs as his gun comes around on the next target, “I don’t know, we’ve seen them in other cities though.” He could still remember the times they’d been in Tarn and Kaon. 

Gasping for breath, Sideswipe shakes his head a bit, bringing his bracers down on a smaller more normal sized Quint as it shrieked, “We’ve seen a bunch in North Iacon, it’s possible they snuck past the guards.” Breakdown hums, “But not with such a large ship,” They all winced as it crashed into a nearby building, alarms starting to blare in the distance. 

With a glance that way, Hound looks around, “Jazz, Sunstreaker!” They barely spared a glance at each other before running that way, “Please let that area have been evacuated.” He couldn’t focus on that now, “Keep me updated on the situation.” Jazz glances back and nods, “Yeah!” Taking a moment to breathe, Hound adjusts the hold on his gun.

His implants itched and burned, so closing his eyes again, he checked over his connection as quickly as he could and ran through his coding with a flick of a switch. That brought everything back into hyper-focus. 

—

Time felt like it was dragging on, especially being underground, it had never been his favorite place to be and exactly why they tried to limit those who had to live down here. Choosing to live in the underlayer was very different then having to work.

He was still sat just above Megatron, waiting with the patience of a saint as Knockout worked. Wiping at his brow, Knockout sighs, “He’s coming too, be careful.” Just as Megatron’s optics online again, dim in color, and it tugged at Optimus’s spark. Groaning, Megatron attempts to sit up and Optimus gently pushes at his shoulder to make sure he stays laying down.

”Easy, it has been millenia since you’ve had a building collapse on you.” That brought a slight smile to his face, “Ah, the organic plant in the system with the binary dwarf stars.” Optimus smiled, brushing his digits over Megatron’s faceplates, “I’m glad that I’m not the only one who remembers.” Megatron’s face scrunched up slightly, “I threw us into that building, it was stupid.” Optimus chuckles.

He continues to brush his digits carefully over Megatron, “I should consider dropping more buildings on you, it seems to loosen your tongue.” Rolling his optics, Megatron grunts, but reaches up and takes Optimus’s hand, “I wish it wouldn’t require such drastic measures.” He vented slowly.

Glancing at where Knockout was working, Optimus worried his derma, Megatron squeezed his servos carefully, even behind his battle mask Megatron could tell when Optimus worried. More than their bond, simply a lifetime of knowing each other. 

“Your fretting,” Optimus chuckled weakly, “Sometimes I worry that you may run on anxiety instead of energon.” His weak chuckle turned into a laugh that brought a smile to Megatron’s pained face, “I used to think that this was an act, your worry and intense anxiety, I suppose it’s my own life sentence that it’s real.” 

Shaking his helm Optimus vents slowly, “Given instead of talking about our feelings, you started a war without me, I think it’s allowed.” Knockout winces and Megatron vents out slowly, bringing energon to his derma and Optimus watches him suppress a cough. 

Taking a deep in-vent, Megatron squeezes Optimus’s servos again, “I no longer wish to fight with you, not in my current state.” They stared at each other, “I still believe that I am owed an apology by my protector. Just so you are aware.” Megatron hummed, “Have I ever mentioned how glorious the shine of your optics are?” And Optimus laughed hard, smiling bright as his battle mask slid aside.

Brushing his digits back over Megatron’s face, “I believe you have, most often in moments like this. Instead of ‘I’m sorry My Prime’ you often remark on some aspect of my appearance.” Rolling his optics, Megatron cracks a smile, “Do you expect anything else from me, my dear?” Shaking his head slowly, Optimus pressed a kiss to his cheek, “Of course not, but I do want an actual apology when you are healed, less you desire to remain in your amica’s hab.” The pain on Megatron’s face was more than just from the damage to his frame. 

“I mean no offense to Soundwave, but it is painful enough to have his wards in my unit, to remain in their hab has been torture.” Optimus chuckled, “I take it you mean specific twins? More than Ravage or Ratbat.” Megatron grunts, “I think you will find it surprising to hear that Lazerbeak is difficult to room with, then again it was less torturous when there were other things to focus on.” Optimus hummed.

They stared at each other for a long moment, “However, I can recognize when I have spoken in error. Much of what I said was uncalled for, I’m sorry for insinuating that you did not care and that you were anything like your abusive predecessors.” Optimus swore his spark hummed and he smiled, “Now that wasn't so hard, was it?” Megatron grumbled, “You know just as well as I that it reminds one of swallowing rust sticks whole.” 

Megatron shifted and winced, Knockout smacked his leg, “Do not move, it will hurt more if you do and I lack proper equipment.” Grunting, Megatron sighed and looked back to Optimus. He looked tired.

”Optimus, where are the humans?” His voice was still weak, still pained and Optimus glanced at Knockout, who nodded and adjusted his connection. Megatron’s optics cycled wide for a moment before dimming, “Damn you.” Being careful, Optimus holds Megatron’s face in his servos, “I’m here, just rest.” Placing a careful kiss on his fore-helm. 

Megatron’s hand came up and grasped his wrist, venting with a shudder, “Alright.” Smiling sadly, Optimus keeps hold until Megatron is back in stasis. Knockout giving him a nod and Optimus moved back, letting Knockout return to his work.

Sitting back against the ancient wall, he shuttered his optics for a moment, they were hiding down here while the humans could be up on the surface dying for them. Someone settled down next to him, so onlining his optics, Optimus stared at Mirage for a long moment.

”Hound saved my life, again.” Smiling softly, Optimus nods and rests an arm around Mirage’s shoulders, “Because he cares, cares deeply.” Humming, Mirage offlined his optics, “Yeah, he’s great.” It hurt, having to suppress his laughter, suppressing the wince after too. 

These humans had burrowed their way into his best bots sparks and he was still unsure as to be thankful or fearful.

—

Hound collided with a Quintesson, it felt absurdly huge compared to what they were used to. These couldn’t be the scouts they were used to fighting, they were even bigger than the ones in the attack on New Kaon. 

“How is your suit holding up Breakdown?” He grunted as tentacles pulled at his already loose plating, “It’s hold up, thank you Hound.” He nodded as Sideswipe moves in and cuts apart the limbs that were trying to wrap around his suit, swinging back around Hound dug the barrel of his gun in and fired.

They were splattered in green, nearly completely desensitized to it now, Hound just grunted and dug in to finish the job. 

Sideswipe went to the next in line, trying to keep them from wandering towards the streets or worse central Iacon. 

He was breathing heavy, trying to keep his gun from overheating and pushing himself to far. This was worse than their typical battles down, at the edge of cities or on uninhabited planets, this was at their bar in Iacon. 

This chunk of land was theirs, their connection to home and he was filled with a renewed hate. Firing at an approaching Quint, “We have to keep them from flooding the streets. Jazz, Sunstreaker, how's the crash site look?” There was a distinct sound of someone tearing through a Quintesson.

The shriek and popping sound were one that they all knew well, “We’ve got it mostly contained for the moment, once your areas clear though we’d appreciate the help!” Jazz was working hard and Hound had nothing but respect for that, “We’ll be there as soon as we can be.” Moving over quickly, he slams into a Quint nearing Breakdown’s back.

“Just might be a minute.” Panting, Jazz nods in the edge of his view, “We’re not going anywhere.” Nodding back, Hound focuses on the aliens in front of him. Falling into a comfortable silence, the typical callbacks of battle.

It’s always in the moments of quiet that people feel the need to speak up.

“I think I called Elita mom by accident.” Banter was good, but that seriously caught him off guard, “What?” Sideswipe sighs, even as his bracers cut through a particularly thick Quint, splattering him in it’s gore, “I was freaking the fuck out, alright? Overuse is a bitch we all have it live with.” Most of them chuckled at that, though grunting with effort just after.

Throwing a look over his shoulder, Hound frowned. Sure, they all dealt with the flashbacks and hallucinations of overuse, they’d spoken on it but to be reminded of that in this scene. He glanced down at the rubble under his feet, then back at Sideswipe even as he fired on the Quintesson approaching Breakdown.

Their parents had died when their apartment building collapsed, Sideswipe hadn’t been there when it happened but Sunstreaker had. He sighed slowly, “You alright now Sideswipe?” There was a pause, “As good as I will be.” Nodding a bit, Hound pings Sunstreaker with a reminder for later.

He throws himself into the work, trying to bring the Quints to them and keep them in this area, their bar was their Alimo. 

The screeching of jet engines brought his eyes up, staring for a second as blaster rained down on the Quints around them, “Hell yeah!” Sideswipe pumps his fist, even as he brings his other arm down on two tentacles trying to wrap around him.

Breakdown watched before looking at Hound, “I’m going to go assist Sunstreaker and Jazz.” Nodding, Hound pats his shoulder, “Hurry.” With a stiff nod, Breakdown took off, his cannon lowering to a low hum.

Hound turned back at the scene around him, the break in the fight enough for a moment to breathe and watch the seekers fly in, likely from Vos based on their direction. He watched them for a moment before bringing his gun back up to lay into the Quints near himself.

Now it was just Sideswipe and himself, with some air support at the very least.

Glancing back up, he couldn’t help it. 

Waving up, he was grinning as the seekers rushed across the sky, six. It was only two trines but it was better than nothing as they started to lay into the enemy from above. Hound was still grinning when he watched a stray bolt streak towards him, everything seemed to move in slow motion then.

Cutting his lines was instinct, but he didn’t have time to sever the connection at the arm so it would fall before being hit. Instead, it severed at the shoulder as he attempted to dive out of the way. Instantly going numb, damn hunter coding, he rolled for a moment before coming back to his knees. 

He stared at his arm in the rubble for a long moment, “What the hell, hey!” He looks towards the seekers and flips them off with remaining hand, “Watch where you’re firing! We can be hurt by your fire!” Grumbling, he got back to his feet and turned towards the enemy.

”One armed ass kicking contest it is then.” Sunstreaker seemed to smile in the corner of his vision, “Oh, Knockout is going to love us tonight!” Chuckling darkly, Hound shrugs, “Only if he catches us.” Sunny laughed before shouting something unintelligible.

This fight was just starting, they were dealing with the stragglers. Sunny, Jazz, and now Breakdown were derailing with the infestation.

———

A/N

Yes, the few nights Megatron has spent in Iacon while him and Optimus were arguing, he slept at Soundwave’s. If you can really call that sleep.

Also the Seeker that shot off Hound’s arm was Skywarp, sorry.

So, yeah, part 40. 30 more parts that I ever imagine for Arcturus One. Crazy scenes.

The next ten parts are going to be WILD.

TAGS

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @sirassban @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscrapheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @thetrexartist @naaaafam @elegantmantaray @emichusai @waterlilykitty @diabolichare @ham4ponyo @osqindaxend @sunnyvibesanddoodles @ratatatata248 @ijustneedausernaneplease4444444 @sprook-children @fooolisher 

And once again thank you to @Keferon for this amazing AU

[starcurtain]

What do you think Aventurine would be like as a boss?

Aventurine's first character story tells us that people both outside the IPC and internal to the Strategic Investment Department are explicitly racist toward him, so I would say first that I suspect Aventurine's team is much, much smaller than other Stonehearts like Topaz. For example, we constantly see Topaz's dumb "support squad" following her around in most of the events she shows up in, while we've never been introduced to a single "Aventurine support squad" member.

My suspicion is that, between the rampant racism and the undoubtedly common rumors about Aventurine's dangerous behavior, very few people are even willing to be put on his team in the first place. I suspect he's much more likely to be paired up with one or two "strategic partners" (like Ratio) and sent to handle things that way, rather than actually having a large group of underlings he directly supervises.

But just logistically speaking I'm sure he does have a few underlings, and I think... He's probably a very difficult person to work for, for a couple reasons:

He will almost certainly beat assholes to the punch. If a majority of the people who have been assigned to work with him don't want to be there, you can bet he's not going to wait around for new people to prove they are racist garbage. I imagine that, for the most part, he's off-putting and offensive to new people from the get-go. You ask which desk is yours and he just goes "Oh, feel free to set your things anywhere!" then turns around like: "Wowwww. Jim, this rookie is trying to steal the desk you've had for ten years! How inconsiderate our new friend is proving to be~!" New people on his team probably have the worst few weeks of their lives. (Because... If people are going to hate him on principle alone, he might as well give them a reason, right?) However, this has the effect of weeding out most of the people who are incapable of dealing with Aventurine's antics, so I imagine that the few who persevere through the hazing are probably genuinely decent folks. Those that make it past the initial "Let's see how much you hate Sigonians and disrespect me personally" vibe check probably end up on Aventurine's good side, and I think he eventually eases off his newbies after a while. (Not before they've proven their exceedingly high tolerance for shenanigans and even higher ceiling for shock factor, though. If a new employee makes it past the first month of working for Aventurine, literally nothing else will ever phase them. An elephant-sized Warp Trotter could warp them all six galaxies over and they'd just be like "Anyone got a working cell? I need to tell my babysitter I won't be back by 9.")

I think he's just never there. Absentee boss in the extreme. It's not that he ever slacks or doesn't do the work--it's just that he's constantly going off and doing the missions all on his own. It doesn't matter how many times the higher-ups assign him to do a team task, tell him he has to take the full squad... He just scampers off and does the deal entirely on his own, comes back covered in blood, and is like "Hey guys, I took care of the problem; enjoy some comp time on me!" I don't think he drags his average-level underlings into his dangerous gambles; I think he just does all the work with their clients by himself or with a high-caliber partner. You would think this would make him a great boss to work for, but I implore to put yourself in such an employee's shoes: You go into the office every morning only to see your to-do list is empty. Your boss isn't there to give you any new direction. After twiddling your thumbs for four hours, you find out the reason he isn't in the office this morning is that he's recovering from betting he could take an entire pack of Borisin in a fist fight. He's not in the hospital because of the fight (which he won). He's in the hospital because he was then promptly shot in the back by the guy he was betting with. Why is your life like this? Why must you be subjected to the soap opera of your boss's own self-destructive spiral?

Even when he's around, he's probably weirdly awkward. Don't get me wrong, I bet when he's in a good mood he throws all kinds of extravagant parties in the office, and his employees would never lack for bonuses and perks. But I think he has never really bothered to learn--or perhaps simply does not care--about normal managerial behaviors and boundaries. Like, you slip up and tell him your mother-in-law is in the hospital. He comes back five minutes later to tell you he's just bought six bouquets (sent from your address), commissioned a personally embossed card for her with your monogram, and contracted the services of the best-reviewed individualized medical team in Pier Point under your name. He's patting himself on the back for being an incredibly thoughtful boss. You don't know how to tell him that you haven't spoken to your mother-in-law in years, not since her last attempt to poison you. Every six months he buys the whole team new cars. You have no idea what to do with all these cars. It's too many cars. Put some cars back. He calls everyone his "friend," but even after working for him for years, you still have absolutely no idea about his likes, dislikes, or hobbies outside of the IPC. You could not name his favorite food if someone put a gun to your head. Does he exist outside of the workplace? You literally can't imagine him anywhere but on a mission or at a poker table. He's constantly bringing an "I am the party!" vibe to the room, but everyone else is a bored 8-5 worker who doesn't have a drop of enthusiasm left in their veins. It's like when a singer asks the audience to cheer along with a song, but nobody in the audience makes a peep. Absolutely no one in the IPC cubicles can match his particular freak. Aventurine's a smooth-talker and a street-smart cookie for sure, but something about the way his smile looks like it's made out of plastic when anyone tries to engage him in chitchat at the water cooler gives you the vague impression that he's probably never had an actual friend in his life. If "uncanny valley" was a vibe a workplace could have, Aventurine's office would have it.

Long story longer, I think Aventurine has very few people willing to tolerate him as a boss, whether because they are racist or simply because his quirks are just too quirky. However, I like to imagine the few who have hung in there are ride or die. You know they have an "Aventurine Protection Squad" group chat. They probably all wear peacock-teal and gold accessories in solidarity. They have definitely disappeared people for talking shit on their boss before. Aventurine has no idea how much they actually like him.

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

AND THE OSCAR GOES TO …

Pairing - Cillian Murphy x fem!reader

Warnings - No warning, the disgust!!! Fluff with a side of angst, I’m shocked… cheesy as

Word count - 2.4+

The day had been exhausting. Cillian, who expresses the importance of sleep, was unable to keep his eyes shut last night in the luxurious king size bed. Usually the award shows were just a part of the job, never taken as seriously as working on the project. But this was different, he had never experienced the honor of such recognition by the industry he adored. Everyone was hyping him up and secretly it terrified him even though he acted unphased. 

Humble, was the word you’d use to describe Cillian. The most modest man in Hollywood, never believing that his work is exemplary. Always reflecting on what else he could have done to be better. It was a guilty desire, to want to win it. He had already won all of the other major awards, but what if he managed to fall short to this?

Likewise to him, you remained awake. Merely embracing him as you two laid in silence. You kept him at bay, he wondered what he did to deserve you. Feared the embarrassment of what you’d think of him if he didn’t win this last one. 

He threw up in the morning. It was all getting to his head. These were the parts he hated most about this job. The expectation on his back now. All eyes were going to be on him tonight. Not to mention the reporters. At all of the award shows they tended to ask insensitive questions about your relationship. 

Your relationship with Cillian was certainly controversial. Age gaps always were. Neither of you ever intended to fall in love, but denying that spark of attraction felt like a major crime.  

At first, you both tried to make yourselves believe it to just be casual. To merely get those urges out of your system. Neither one of you intended on making the encounter romantic or innermost with each other. However, by the third date, it came to light in your senses that this was real. 

The dating stage was a rollercoaster of emotions. Filled to the rim with doubts of if you both would be able to make it work. Yeah, you’ve dated some real questionable guys. But a 20 year age difference was never a bridge you expected to cross. Despite the hesitance of this intangible factor, you two just couldn’t view a future without one another anymore. 

Slowly, you both tackled your insecurities of becoming public to your loved ones. The hardest were your parents, even though there was still a bit of an age gap, Cillian was closer to their age than yours and it was a judgment they couldn’t avoid. It took some time, but as they watched your eyes blossom at the sight of him they knew it was real. 

The public would never know how you brought Cillian out of his despair. A man of privacy he was, hardly anyone knew how toxic his first marriage was. How bad his mind had become after years of trying over something that was long dead cold. With how he had given up hope on ever feeling loved by another again. Most days he felt like a man trying to find a pin in a haystack. 

Dating Cillian taught you the value of privacy and wellbeing. Behind the closed doors, your relationship was paradise. You had never experienced a relationship that wasn’t followed by the media. It was all that you had ever known. But this, being able to focus on him and not on how the world perceived your relationship had changed your whole perspective. 

When the news broke that not only were you dating Cillian Murphy, but pregnant, the backlash was astounding. However, you both had the approval and support from your inner circles and that was all that mattered. You had a shotgun wedding in Ireland with a small number of attendees. It was the greatest day of your life until you gave birth to your daughter, Aisling. 

He looked so charming as you watched him dress in the hotel room. He was laughing nervously a lot, trying to talk about things other than the ceremony. 

You didn’t blame his distress. Years ago you were in the same affair. It was your hardest role and greatest accomplishment. Portraying a woman at her lowest point in a society that she felt she didn’t belong. By the end of production, a part of you felt like you were her. When you were nominated for Best Actress, you were filled with gratitude and honor. But also couldn’t help but to think at the back of your head if you really deserved this. A part of you didn’t feel worthy to be running with your fellow nominees. The anxiety rose inside of you everytime someone asked what would you do if you won? 

But, when the presenter announced your name, the wave of acceptance consumed you deep into the ocean. Everything you had ever done had led to that moment. There was no need for you to secretly bring yourself down. You have pushed your mind, body and soul for this project. The gratitude had overwhelmed you as you accepted this recognition. 

Watching him on the red carpet, you could see right through him. The illusion of confidence mixed with the gratitude of accolades. He wanted the night to be done with, there was nothing more that he wanted to do besides be at home with you and Aisling. It was the first time Cillian had attended the grand event and you observed him look around in awe in the ceremony room. The whole time you had held onto his hand tightly as the big four without hurry finally rolled over. 

“And the Oscar goes to…” Brendan Fraser paused as he opened the envelope.

Time froze over, your iron grip on Cillian’s hand as you stared immensely. There was this clock ticking in your head. Your emotions were masked as Cillian had a stern expression. You could sense how anxious he was with being in the running for the greatest honor.   

Despite the distance, you ever so clearly saw the look that lit in Brendan’s eyes and knew immediately. His gaze looked up to Cillian as he announced his name to the world. A radiant smile grew on Cillian’s lips as the audience started cheering for him. 

He acknowledged you promptly, his blue eyes soft as he leant in to kiss you. After a small exhale of relief, you wrapped your arms around his body and kissed him passionately. His forehead pressed against yours for a few seconds, but it felt like hours. The noise drained out and you both forgot where you were. It was just the two of you. When Cillian opened his eyes again, his gaze was met with your undying smile of bliss. 

The track for Oppenheimer was playing as Cillian slowly let you go and embraced his fellow cast members You were clapping your hands together uncontrollably, your eyes welled with tears of joy as you watched Cillian make the short journey to the stage.

Emily embraced you, you exhaled heavily against her as you were still feeling the overwhelming sensation against your skin. It was all too much to take in, you could see his photo up on all of the screens, the cheers were running down to your ear drums. It felt like deja vu from years ago when you were in the exact same spot. 

He shook all of the presenters' hands. Sharing a few words with each of them individually. The audience were still on their feet as Cillian looked down to the golden prize in his hold, his mouth dry as he struggled to think of what to say. 

The crowd was standing in awe for him. Cillian laughed nervously, his expression overwhelmed and shocked at what was occurring. He has never even dreamt of this moment, never believing he’d be able to make it. His hand trailed over jaw as his eyes took in everything. He waited for the audience to silence themselves but realized that they wouldn’t be doing it on their own any time soon. 

“Um, I’m a little overwhelmed. Thank you to the Academy” Cillian started, his eyes roaming over the room. The crowd came to silence. “Um, Chris Nolan and Emma Thomas, it's been the wildest, most exhilarating, most creatively satisfying journey you’ve taken me on over the last 20 years. I owe you more than I can say. Thank you so much” Cillian expressed his gratitude to them. His mentors, the people that trusted him dearly with many of their successes. 

There was such little time. Shockingly, Cillian hadn’t prepared himself for this moment, despite everyone telling him that even though the competition was scintillating, the Oscar already had his name written on it. Of course he had summed up a few words to say, people to recognise. But the shock had drowned his thoughts. 

“Every single crew member, every single cast member on Oppenheimer. You guys carried me through. All of my fellow nominees, I remain in awe of you guys, truly” Cillian acknowledged, his eyes darting around the room to look for his fellow nominees. 

He truly was in admiration of them. The pair of you had watched all of the nominated films and Cillian couldn’t help to be even in applause of them, but also intimidated by them as award season had rolled over. 

“I wanna thank my incredible team. Ah, big shout out to Craig Bankie!” Cillian grinned. “Brendan Murphy- Brendan Murphy, Mary Murphy. Who are currently taking care of my baby girl back in Ireland. Aisling, my darling, daddy loves you so much” He smiled purely into the camera. 

There was a pause as he blinked heavily. His gaze found its way back to you so lovingly. CIllian stared at you in awe. Even though you were at a distance from each other, he could see you so perfectly. His perfect woman, wife, lover.  

“Oh” he breathed out, tilting his head up the slightest bit. “And there’s a woman” he professed as he closed his eyes dramatically, taking in all of the emotions he was feeling. 

Some of the crowd couldn’t resist screaming out in excitement. Your hand pressed against your mouth as you slowly shook your head in disbelief. 

“Yeah” he said to himself as he nodded his head, eyes still shut. “A woman. Who I love” Cillian vowed, his eyes finding you once more. Cillian breathed out your name as he watched you enchantedly. “You’re the love of my life, and I owe everything to you. You’ve kept me sane throughout this whole process. I wouldn’t be up here without you. This award, it’s for us. I love you” Cillian commended, giving you an angelic smile. 

The crowd roared in exhilaration. The camera focused on you and your teary eyes as you were shaking your head in disbelief and happy embarrassment. 

“I’m a very proud Irish man standing here tonight. So…” Cillian smiled as he raised his award into the air. The crowd cheered as he could feel the privilege of honoring his nationality. “You know, we made a film. We made a film about the man who created the atomic bomb. And for better or for worse, we’re all living in Oppenheimer’s world. So I would really like to dedicate this to the peacemakers everywhere” Cillian finished with a satisfied nod. “Go raibh mile maith agaibh!” He raised the award one final time as he spoke his native language and took a step back from the microphone. 

The music began as Cillian winked to you. Everyone stood up again as they all applauded him, many eyes were on you as well. He engaged with the past winners as they all walked off stage. People congratulated you for landing such a romantic man and you couldn’t argue with them if you wanted you. 

You kissed him passionately in the elevator, the buzz of the champagne you shared in the ride over giving the pair of you slightly too much confidence. Cillian was chuckling slowly as you both looked at the award in his hand. The doors dung open and you were cheered by the guests in the venue of the afterparty. 

A snort left Cillian as he noticed a tap of Guinness at the bar. Neither of you could refuse a pint of it. The night rolled on with many congratulations, drinks, photographs, hand shakes, embraces and conversations on what an achievement this had been. No one would be able to guess how exhausted Cillian truly was. But the adrenaline was still pumping through his blood stream and it wasn’t stopping anytime soon.  

As the music blasted and the dance floor filled with highly tipsy people, Cillian confidently pulled you onto it. His arms wrapped around your body as he swayed you to the music. The two of you smiled gleefully, intoxicated with the moment and built up emotion over these past few months. Even though the lighting was dark, you could see the crooked smile on his lips. 

“Let’s have another” he proposed into your ear. You hummed and looked up to him. A heavy laugh left your mouth as you turned your foot to the bar but he stopped you. “No, no” he laughed. “Another baby” he clarified. 

“You only ever wanted one” you brought up. It was unsure if he was being serious, or merely caught up in the moment. 

“I’ve been wrong” he admitted, swaying you perfectly to the beat of the music. You hummed confidently, a sparkle in your eyes, the thought of a baby boy with his eyes coming to mind. “You’ve brought me out of my hardest moments. I know I tell you this all the time but woman, you mean everything to me. Your support, advice, guidance and love is all I’ll ever need to live a fulfilled life. You’ve taught me so much which has benefitted not only my career but happiness and spirit in life. I love you more than I’ll ever be able to say or show you” Cillian confessed. 

Innocent embarrassment made you shake your head towards him. He just had a way with words that made your heart swoon over him, even when he was drunk. A long, gentle kiss connected you together once more. This was life, the happiness you both could share together. Not the expensive outfits, fancy cars or grand events. It was the emotions and feelings intertwined as one between two bodies. 

Cillian had made history tonight, but you were forever to be his grand prize in life. 

[cassandraclare]

A bit of publishing stuff (if you get my newsletter you've already seen this)

So by now you lovely people have all seen the announcement about what books I have coming up next. Ragpicker King is coming March 4, 2025, and The Last King of Faerie is coming early 2026.

I know a lot of you were hoping for LKOF to come earlier. It’s going to be a big gap between the last Shadowhunter book and the next — three years. Previously the longest gap between Shadowhunter books was two years, between Mortal Instruments and the Dark Artifices.

I announced last year that I was taking time off — six months. It was the first time I’d taken any real time off since 2005. The pandemic had just happened and I was wiped out physically and mentally. I also needed to take stock of where I was in my publishing journey and really think about what I wanted — it had been years since I’d had time to consider whether I was happy, because I always had another deadline and that was always more important.

  When I came to the end of The Last Hours, I was “out of contract” — meaning I didn’t have any further Shadowhunter books that were owned by or owed to a publisher.  it was the first time that had happened since, again, 2005. Being out of contract is your one chance to change anything you want to change about your career, and I knew I was going to leave my longtime US publisher of the Shadowhunter books and move to Random House, who published Sword Catcher.

This isn’t a small decision for any writer to make. It sometimes happens when a writer has been at a publisher for a very long time that the nature of the publisher changes. Maybe all the people you worked with when you first came to that publisher have gone elsewhere, so your team has inherited you rather than having chosen you. Maybe your publisher has been sold to another company whose vision for that publisher doesn’t fit with yours. Maybe your publisher isn’t interested in your genre anymore. 

I spent a lot of time agonizing over the decision—I certainly could have stayed where I was, but I knew that was no longer the best decision for the books. So those of you who pay attention to these kinds of details will note that where the other Shadowhunter books have all been published by McElderry Books, these next ones will be published by Knopf. (Who are an amazing imprint. They make great books.)

Normally a writer wouldn’t really address switching publishers — it happens a lot, and most readers don’t care who publishes a book. I’m talking about it now because I know there will be a lot of people who are angry and don’t understand why Ragpicker King is coming out before Last King of Faerie. The short answer is: Ragpicker King has been under contract since it was sold along with Sword Catcher, years ago now, and I’m obligated to get it done when I said I was going to. The books of The Wicked Powers are only just now securely under contract enough to be announced, as you just saw! So Ragpicker King is planned to be turned in in a couple of months, and after that I will be able to focus entirely on The Last King of Faerie (which I already began, but since it was only sold to Knopf last October, I was only able to get started after that).

And it takes a a year at least to write a book and another good year or so to publish it, and that gets us to the pub dates we’ve got. I would love if I could get it to you earlier, but multiple factors have brought us to this point, and in the end, not rushing through them is the best thing for the books, and will produce the best version of those books. I always want to get you my best work — that’s what is important to me above all things.

In terms of other publishers in other countries — I’m staying with all my longterm Shadowhunter publishers. Nothing’s going to change for y’all — Walker Books is still publishing Shadowhunters in the UK, even though a different publisher is going to publish In Fire Foretold there (due to spiciness.) ;) 

For those of you who backed the Kickstarter, that will mean you do get new Shadowhunter content between now and early 2026* — which was part of the reason I did it! I’m also talking to my new publisher about bringing Better in Black out — with at least a six month gap for the Kickstarter backers to have it to themselves — so fingers crossed. There’s also Black Volume of the Dead, the final Eldest Curses book, which is still planned and which I am still excited to write, but since it is set after Last King of Faerie, it hasn’t been scheduled yet. More news on that as it develops—for now, I wanted to talk directly about the schedule in the next couple of years, since I feel confident it is set and will reliably happen this way, something I can’t yet say about 2027 and beyond. The point is, I’m really excited to bring you Wicked Powers just as soon as it is ready, and I know enough about it to say  it’s going to be quite a ride!

And also an early look at In Fire Foretold.