#totally anonymous not a clue who that might be.

[diazsdimples]

Hi James!

I am totally an anonymous anon inquiring about the buddie sauna sex fic.

Not at all a mutual going on anon to trick you into dishing out another snippet.

Nope.

Not at all 😇

Hello totally anonymous anon that I definitely have no clue who you could be! You could never trick me into more Sauna Sex! I give it out freely fkjshjk. Grab a towel, it's getting steamy in here.

“Stop fucking teasing me,” Eddie grits, his jaw tight as he tries to contain his moans. And, because he’s a little shit, Buck swallows Eddie’s cock down whole until the head bumps the back of his throat. The noise that rips from Eddie’s chest borders on animalistic and he abandons his grip on the bench in favour of fisting Buck’s hair in his hands, pushing down on his head so Buck’s nose presses just above his pubic bone. Buck hums happily as he massages Eddie’s cock with rhythmic, peristaltic movements of his tongue. He can taste the slow dribble of precome right at the back of his tongue, tangy and salty and sweet, and altogether Eddie. It’s a trip, a fever dream to have his best friend’s cock in his mouth – down his throat – and Buck feels like he’s floating. Although that might also be the heat. The sign outside the sauna did say something about taking regular breaks, drinking lots of water, and minimising physical exertion. But since when has Buck even played by the rules? He hollows his cheeks, pulling back a little to take a breath before he swallows Eddie down again, and the strangled moan that comes from Eddie's chest has his dick jumping against his thigh. He's so hard that it's painful, and his balls feel heavy and tight as he presses himself against the wood of the bench for any sort of relief. It’s blindingly hot, having soaked up all the heat from the sauna, and Buck breathes in sharply through his nose as the sensitive skin around the crown of his cock brushes against it, but he doesn’t let up. The pressure makes him moan, his mouth vibrating around Eddie's cock, and the other man groans loudly, tugging on Buck's hair. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," he pants, and Buck can feel the tremble in his muscles, the tension building as his hips twitch, fucking up into Buck's mouth with abandon. He’s a fucking sight to behold, eyes screwed shut and face pulled into an expression not dissimilar to a grimace. He’s slick with sweat, beads running down his neck, to his collarbone, and then tracking down his chest until it disappears into the diamond of chest hair. There’s an errant bead that hangs off his nipple, and if Buck’s mouth wasn’t already occupied with his cock, he’d lean forward and lick it off. Eddie whines again, his hips pushing up and off the bench. "I'm gonna – I'm gonna–" And Buck has every intention of letting Eddie come in his mouth. He wants it. Wants to swallow Eddie down and taste him, to swallow every drop of what Eddie has to offer. But then Eddie tugs on his hair and pulls him off. They stare at each other for a minute, both gasping for air. It’s hot and dry and it burns Buck’s throat, but the pain means nothing compared to the look on Eddie’s face. Unable to contain himself, Buck surges forward, mind set on nothing but getting Eddie’s lips against his. Eddie must have the same idea and meets him in the middle, their lips crashing together so hard that both men make a quiet “oomph” of surprise. The kiss is sloppy, wet, and the taste of Eddie's cock is still on his tongue. It’s fucking intoxicating, sending Buck’s head spinning into the stratosphere.

[jikookuntold]

A Word With Jikookers

“The masses have never thirsted after truth. They turn aside evidence that is not to their taste, preferring to deify error, if error seduces them. Whoever can supply them with illusions is easily their master; whoever attempts to destroy their illusions is always their victim.” Gustav Le Bon, The Crowd: A Study of the Popular Mind

You might have known that most of my posts go under categories like analysis and reviews, and I usually don't address hates and haters in this blog except a few times that I had to respond to some anonymous asks, which is now turned off.

I'm aware that no Jikooker likes to be policed by other Jikookers, I hate that too. I hate woke Jikookers so much, and this is not about policing you guys or telling you what to post about. But, as someone who reads tweets on army Twitter on a daily basis and follows almost every drama between shippers, I'm aware that antis sound so bold and brave recently for no specific reason, and this is expectantly triggering most Jikookers to fight back.

Haters get hit tweets by "comparing" moments, shading members, bringing back their old and frequently debunked theories, and fabricating the dumbest stuff to give themselves some sense of winning against the loud and clear truth of Jikook. If there was any competition, they had lost it many times since 2017, but this breed is not going to admit their defeat, and you can never convince them no matter how strong your logic and evidence are. 

I did that a few times, yes. I convinced several hardcore Taekookers that their ship is not real, and if there is one duo in BTS that might be romantically involved, it's Jikook. They admitted that to me after facing the evidence and facts that were hidden from them, but it didn't last long. Just a few days of interacting with their Tkkr fellas was enough to get brainwashed by more appealing theories and call me a liar and manipulator lol. This chain will never break, looking at the community of shippers in 1D made me sure about that.

It's not that they are trying to convince you (us, Jikookers), they are trying to convince themselves, the newcomers who have no clue about what goes on, the Tkkrs with some brain cells left who start to lose faith, and any weak mind out there is their target. It's already a lost battle for them, and they know it well. All they want is fewer losses.

But it's not just that, besides their attempts to keep their community big and in the majority, they are doing their best not to let you feel satisfied or winning (in the competition they made inside their minds). You need to knw that this is a mental war against Jikookers, and it's not just done by Tkkrs, all the breeds of Jikook-antis are on it these days, that's why I'm addressing them as antis and not just Tkkrs. For example, the other day, a JJK akgae tweeted something like 'jikookers are mad because JK likes girls', but in the quotes and replies, she had admitted that she was annoyed by Jikookers celebrating Jikook's new military photos. 

It's clear who is mad here. They deliberately and blatantly lie and project to belittle you, trigger you, and reach some level of satisfaction by affecting you mentally. So, don't let that happen, don't give them what they want. I already said there's no battle or competition, but don't let them win this mental war against you.

Why So Serious?

Joost Meerloo, in his famous book 'The Rape of the Mind,' says: “Logic can be met with logic, while illogic cannot, it confuses those who think straight. The Big Lie and monotonously repeated nonsense have more emotional appeal than logic and reason. While the people are still searching for a reasonable counter-argument to the first lie, the totalitarians can assault  with another.” Although we are not fighting a totalitarian regime lol, this is the exact reason that arguing with antis is pointless. They use 'theories' to debunk the 'moments', and call the real moments 'delusional and fake' while celebrating total lies.

 

Debunking lies is necessary, and everyone should do that as long as they are armed with perfect and mouth-shutting evidence. Otherwise, you should avoid it because nothing is more damaging than doing a bad defense. And these debunkings and defendings don't have to turn into arguments.

Joost Meerloo, in the same book, talks about a solution: “We must learn to treat the demagogue and aspirant dictators in our midst with the weapon of ridicule. The demagogue himself is almost incapable of humor of any sort, and if we treat him with humor, he will begin to collapse.”

Yes, you can debunk, correct, educate, and even argue in an unserious manner. Shipping is not that serious, anyway. Good humor is not insulting, we don't want to drag down or set anyone up. Spreading facts and truth positively and debunking lies with humor and ridicule is all we need to do instead of endless fights and anxious clapbacks.

This post was supposed to be a word, but it turned out as a long and boring essay of information that I'm sure most of you already heard so many times. But it doesn't hurt if we get reminded sometimes to think more deeply and get a better view on what we are dealing with.

[psychdiarys]

My problem with the execution of BostonNick's storyline

As happy as BostonNick's scenes make me & as well as NeoMark are performing, I can't help but feel that their story is like a puzzle with missing pieces. And it's always us viewers who have to fill in the gaps because they can't give them enough airtime to flesh out their storyline better.

Their scenes often feel cut short to me especially in the last couple of episodes? I've started to feel some noticeable gaps in the plot between one Boston and Nick scene and the next.

For example, when Nick goes to talk to Boston at the Halloween party in episode 8? We find out that Boston knew it was Nick who tipped Mew off about Gap. That entire segment felt off to me cause why would Nick even do Boston dirty like that after claiming he doesn't want to hurt him? And then why would he go & talk to him all casually after betraying him twice? Plus it would seem as if Boston totally hates Nick's guts now if not for the scene where he's sadly looking at Nick & his photos together. That one SINGULAR moment of him looking at their photos while day-drinking was literally all we had to indicate that Boston liked Nick too.

In episode 10, we jump straight from the repair shop scene to the rooftop scene, which felt so? Abrupt? Like as MUCH as I loved that scene, I felt like it came out of nowhere? One second Nick is flirting with Dan & giving him permission to hit on him, then Boston walks in with The Lockscreen™ & we straight up jump to Nick going over to see Boston at the rooftop. Like WE had to assume that Nick realised he can't stop loving Boston even though he has the option to be with Dan & that's why he decides to go back to him. But if you don't put that together, you'd be confused why Nick went to Ton after the whole speech he gave in the previous ep & after trying to move on with Dan? I just wish they'd SHOWED us a scene of Nick feeling torn between Dan & Ton? I wish there was a scene of him looking at the lockscreen in contemplation when Dan calls him to come see him or something, but Nick decides to ditch him to go see Ton? IDK something to fill in the gaps?

And the way Boston himself approached Nick at the shop hinting that he wants him back with the lockscreen, but the next second at the rooftop, he's asking Nick why he came there? Like? Bro you WANTED him to come? What happened in between for him to suddenly change his demeanor?

And now in the scene with Atom in episode 11, Boston mentioned something about Atom starting an anonymous account to expose Boston — WHICH CAME OUT OF NOWHERE? Like what do you mean Atom started an expose page? Why is nobody talking about this? How come Cheum didn't even get mad at her brother for framing Ton & falsely exposing him on the internet? If there's a rumor like that floating about Ton on the internet, isn't that going to cause problems for him with his dad?

Speaking of dad, what exactly is the issue between Boston & his dad? Like WE assumed Boston's dad might be homophobic but they never actually address this in canon. Why was Boston so scared of his dad finding out about his private life (other than the fact that NOBODY would want their parent to see a sex tape of them). But Boston's dad seemed to know he sleeps around & doesn't get serious with anyone? So what exactly is the issue? Why can't we get more background on Boston? We know his parents are divorced & his dad is a politician but we have no idea how he feels about any of this (except for our own assumptions).

AND NICK for that matter? Like we have no idea why he is so messed up. We know all about Ray's alcoholism & what prompted it. We know all about Sand's financial issues, familial issues, & ex-bf issues. We know about Top's trauma & how it affects him, and we know Mew was betrayed & cheated on which is why he started acting insane. But Nick? He's been insane since DAY 1 & we have noooo clue why? All we know about his past is that he used to have curly hair.

And this is not a jab at any of the other characters cause I'm invested in ALL the storylines. But this show is supposed to have 6 main characters, so why have BostonNick started to feel like a side couple? And with a storyline as complex as theirs, why are their scenes so limited & short? I just wish we didn't have to depend so much on our interpretations to understand BostonNick.

[halfagone]

WIPS... All the WIPS...

*Please note that this post will be frequently updated as more fics/ideas/concepts are idealized and finished*

Updated As Of 6/28/23

*One Work was removed from "Currently Released/In The Works" to mark it has been completed. For a full discography of halfagone's works, check out this link.*

The marker, (*), indicates that this work is currently a high priority.

Any fic title in red text means it is currently being reconsidered for release.

Multi-chapter

Currently Released/In The Works

lex luthor's ascent from supervillainy to fatherhood (*)

down the rabbit hole (goes the throne)

billy batson and the phantom

weekend wonders

present, future, past

Insomniacs Anonymous

bloodlines

trust no one (trust me)

pay your dues

Off With [the Demon's] Head (*)

bones and all (*)

Just added!

Eldritch Situations

(The long-awaited sequel to Eldritch Toddler)

Summary:

Five times a teenage Danny and a toddler Danny did something supernatural to get out of something inconvenient, and the one time they didn't have to.

6 chapters in total.

To Be Released

path of reckless abandon

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels

Summary: Bruce finds out he had a son with an accidental, drunk one night stand and wants to do his best and be there for the boy after missing so much of his life. Danny, said son, would very much like his world to go back to being normal. And yet, he can't seem to turn down any and all opportunities to get to know his father better, and the life he could have had. Danny has never claimed to have masochistic tendencies. But it certainly looks like he might be starting to.

Ships: Past Brief Maddie Fenton/Bruce Wayne

escape

Genre: Horror/Thriller/Mystery

Summary: An unfamiliar alien species has come to Earth in search of an equally unknown species known as 'halfas'. With most of the planet's governments unwilling to allow the travelers' free access to the Earth and its populace, it's left to the Justice League to investigate the truth and possibly even convince the only living halfa left in existence to come meet and aid these alien visitors.

Meanwhile, Danny faces his own problems. It might be said that Phantom haunts Amity Park, but let it be said that the Ghost Zone haunts Danny right back.

Ships: None/TBD

danny (fenton) luthor's how-to guide to dying

Genre: Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels

Summary: You know the story Danny keeps telling everyone about his heart failure in lex luthor's ascent from supervillainy to fatherhood? This is the full truth behind it.

In other words: On September 30th, Danny died. Sometimes it's easy to forget the people who had to deal with the aftermath. (It's not easy to forget the consequences.)

abandonment issues

Genre: Action, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship

Summary: Chat Noir hasn't been in Paris for weeks now, and Ladybug has little to no clue why. She can never seem to get him on the phone either, only voice messages traded back and forth that never tells her any details. She only gets a better idea when she sees him on the news taking down a mysterious enemy alongside Gotham City's Red Robin and another, unknown vigilante. Ladybug doesn't know how to fix this.

Chat Noir has his own set of problems to deal with. It doesn't stop him from feeling bad for ghosting Ladybug.

Ships: TBD

learning to love again (love yourself)

Genre: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: It starts like this: Adrien meets Danny, Danny meets Adrien. They hit it out of the park. It ends like this: Danny, on the floor, taking a shot meant for Adrien. There are a million things left unsaid in between.

Ships: TBD

treading the waves

Genre: Thriller, Mystery

Summary: It shouldn’t be surprising that the GIW has a high turnover rate, what with their poor rep and all the wild situations their agents tend to get involved with in Amity Park. Agents have come and gone before, that’s nothing new. Yet, when the head of operations gets ousted, no one is prepared for their replacement. The GIW might have been widely considered nuisances, but that was more for their penchant for property damage and general incompetence. But this new guy? He’s ready and willing to crack down on Amity Park’s ghost problem with an iron fist. 

And even he can see that there’s something very off about Daniel Fenton.

Ships: None/TBD

brittle (This title is subject to change)

Genre: Action, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: When Duke is discovered to be a metahuman and taken by a shadowy organization, he finds himself struggling at a loss of what to do. He knows he has to help save all these other metahuman children, but how can he do that without revealing his secret identity and training? Thankfully, his cellmate, Danny, seems willing to help.

Ships: TBD (Possible Duke x Danny)

One-Shots

a grieving man's grave

Genre: TBD

Summary: On the anniversary of his parents' deaths, Bruce spots Danny in that same alleyway. It goes about as well as you might expect.

Ships: None

troubles with immortality

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Status: In the Works

Summary: Duke might be immortal. He doesn't know how to feel about that. Luckily, his new friend Tucker knows someone who might be able to help out.

Ships: None

time is an illusion, reality is a joke (and i'm the puncline)

Tags TBA: Angst, Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Batfamily

Summary: Bruce is saved from the brink of death by a mysterious meta. The more obsessed he grows in finding his teenage rescuers, the more his family worries about him. Especially since, by all indications, this teenager literally does. Not. Exist.

That is, until someone else nearly does too.

Unholy

Tags TBA: Graphic Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Heavy Angst

Summary: Amity Park stands at a precipice of its very own annihilation. The tenuous balance that it has maintained for the past few centuries has finally begun to tip sideways, and not in a favorable direction. People are fleeing, although some remain behind, intent to help as many as they can and possibly even restore the balance between realms. 

With great reluctance, Maurice Foley takes his young daughter and flees from Amity Park at the advice of his wife and son, who choose to stay in the crumbling Amity Park. He flees to safety in the form of his brother-in-law, Jefferson Pierce, otherwise known as Black Lightning. When Jeff finds out about the state of his sister and brother-in-law’s home city, he takes the matter to the Justice League in hopes of saving Amity Park from complete ruin. 

They don’t make it in time.

[Next part of the lex luthor's guide series!]

lex luthor's list of filed complaints

Summary: Lex gets owned on a live television event by a teenager. In other news, Lex has a new intern! Somewhere along the way, he becomes a father to said intern, because obviously no one is parenting this child, so Lex will just have to do it himself.

a dream is a wish (your heart makes) - Title Subject to Change

Tim Drake/Danny Fenton Two-shot Rated T Tags include: Fluff, Love at First Sight, Cinderella-inspired

audience with death

Tim Drake/Danny Fenton Multi-chapter Rated T with Additional Warnings per chapter WARNING: This work may include scenes that viewers might find disturbing.

tightrope

Dick Grayson/Danny Fenton Multi-chapter Rated T with Additional Warnings per chapter

spell it out for me, please

Jason Todd/Danny Fenton Multi-chapter Rated T Tags include: Fluff, Slow Burn, Teacher AU, BAMF Jason Todd

time stand still for me

Duke Thomas/Danny Fenton One-shot Rated T

two cents in

Tim Drake & Danny Fenton Multi-chapter Rated T with Additional Warnings per chapter Tags include: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Child Neglect

Witness Protection Program - Title Subject to Change

Relationships TBD Multi-chapter Rated T with Additional Warnings per chapter Tags include: Angst, Whump, Stalking, Obsessive Behavior

hollow victory

Hal Jordan & Danny Fenton, Dick Grayson & Danny Fenton, More TBA Two-shot Rated T WARNING: Temporary Major Character Death

The Fall of the Graysons

Dick Grayson & Danny Fenton Multi-chapter Rated T with Additional Warnings per chapter Tags include: Heavy Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Broken Families, Alternative Universe - Canon Divergence

Magnetism

Summary:

When Danny was little, his favorite comic book character was Magneto. When he gets powers of his own, it shows.

There is a new anti-hero roaming about. It's about time the Justice League did something about that.

[crusty-chronicles]

Airheaded S/O Headcannons #8: Giovanni (Epithet Erased)

An: This has been me writing for obscure characters bc I want more of them out there. Enjoy.

Giovanni would die for you

This man already loves his minions so much, so with you, he's absolutely smitten

What's that? You're rank Senpai in the Bonzi Blasters?

He's in love.

Hmm? You also can't tell your right from your left?

Don't worry, if Car Crash can figure it out, so can you.

You have one of the highest bounties he's ever seen, but not one functioning brain cell.

How you managed to do it, he'd never know.

But he's so goddamn supportive anyway.

You broke into a museum during the day?

"That's it baby, catch em' by surprise!!!"

You throw PeaShooters instead of firing them?

"You still knocked down the enemy! And bonus points for creativity!!!"

You lost the loot helping one of your minions?

"What's a cheap treasure to Bad Guy Street Cred? Minions always come first!"

If Giovanni is ever in any trouble, you're his solution.

Caught by the police?

You're using your own Epithet to get him out.

The higher ups are upset with him?

You just walking by and asking 'what's going on' is enough for them to drop it.

Nobody wants to mess with a person who even Zora couldn't catch.

He needs a new knife because his mom won't lend him one anymore?

You lend him yours and buy him his own set.

He totally finds a way to combine his Soup Epithet with yours so you guys have couple coordinated attacks.

Does not and will not ever take advantage of your ranking to better himself.

If he wants to move up a level, (on this pyramid scheme) he'll do it himself through hard work.

Plus he loves bragging about how cool you are.

This dork is exactly the type to confess to you during a heist when you're about to die.

The "If we don't make it out of here, there's something I want you to know" type.

And you don't realize he's trying to confess so your response is the typical "We are going to make it out of here!"

Even when you and his underlings have already defeated the enemy, he's still convinced you two won't make it out.

"I just want you to know, I love and admire you!"

"Giovanni, we're at the base????" (The base is your house.)

And he's 🤨🤨🤨

"Oh, then nevermind."

Screaming because after that both groups of minions are trying so damn hard to get you guys together.

They try setting up a date and Giovanni is so embarrassed when he realizes what's happening.

And you have no damn clue, so it embarrasses him further because he has to come up with an excuse for 'inviting' you to a nice dinner.

Flowers show up at your door signed 'Captain Gio ❤️'

And he's absolutely terrified because 'Guys!!! That was a little too forward!!!😡😡'

But still you have no clue and are just happy he got you something that wasn't stolen. Well, probably not stolen

It does work out, eventually.

This bad not-so-bad guy will call you the sweetest names.

And he totally gets ragged on by his boys if he uses one in front of them.

Babe, honey, Senpai, love of his life, sunshine.

Might even slip in 'the baddest of villains' if he's feeling spicy.

He let's you pick out the seasonings for his Epithet, but shhhh! That's a secret!!!

He tells you about Molly and you suggest a 'surprise adoption.'

And he's all on board until he realizes he's way too young for kids. That and you two can't afford one. 😞😞😞

So you settle for stopping by the toy store every once and a while to say hi.

She's very appreciative and also confused.

Because it's always the day after you visit that all the toys at the store are bought by an anonymous customer.

And the week after that a hospital is gifted a generous amount of toys for the kids staying there.

But yeah, you and Giovanni are totally bad guys. 🙄🙄🙄

Although she does wonder where you get all that money from to buy from the store.

Giovanni does worry that the Head Bonzi Blasters are taking advantage of your stupidity.

So he always makes sure to go with you when you have a meeting

He just wants the best for his S/O, okay. 🥺

And he's right because you're being scammed big time. And it's extremely obvious.

He shuts that down right away, even if he won't be in the higher-ups good graces.

His mom loves you and begs for you to take Giovanni with you everytime you leave.

But you two can't exactly afford a stable apartment for two people. 😬😬😬😬

She still holds out hope though.

Does Giovanni get jealous?

How dare you ask!

The Great Giovanni Potage is never jealous!!!

Nope, not one bit.

Not even as the sales clerk slips you their number, only to find out they're being accused of tax fraud by an anonymous source the next day

Nope, totally not jealous 😤😤😤

He also totally does not hold your hand when another Banzai Captain is flirting with you so they get the message that you're taken.

Couldn't be him.

It is him please don't find somebody cooler with a better Epithet

Goldfish brain or not, he loves you and will support you through even the worst of blunders.

NEXT UP: Hiei Jaganshi

An: On an unrelated note, I would let Thorn from the Hex Girls break my spine like a toothpick.

MASTERLIST

[random-imagines-blog]

Bullet with Vampire Wings {Sherlock x GN!Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 3904 Summary: You end up killing someone that attempts to murder Sherlock Holmes. But the reason behind it is not what everyone thought it would be. Notes: Describes murder, blood, deception.

Your hands were covered in another person’s blood. It was warm, sticky, and it really did get everywhere. It was worse than hair dye in that regard. It was on your shirt, though you couldn’t remember if you had touched it or not. More than likely, it was upon your face too. There was no mirror to look in, at least, not yet. You could clean yourself up in the prison, the arresting officer said, pushing your arms behind you to put the handcuffs on. It might not be ideal, or welcoming, but there was a shower there. The flashing lights on top of the police cars were disorienting you, and you could faintly hear Sherlock shouting. It was defense, you idiots, it was all defense. Y/N had saved my life, why are you arresting them? Oh, the poor dear. He really considered himself to be brilliant but you never caught onto one simple fact. You were never on his side. Not even once.

It had started five years ago. Sherlock’s name had started popping up in the papers. A picture or two, once he had solved a case. There was something about his face that you just didn’t like. A smugness to it. This man truly thought that he was the most intelligent man in the world, and yet he was lowering himself to solving petty crimes? What a waste of a mind, and what a waste of talent. He was smart, you could give him that, but was he actually clever? You, only twenty at the time, had sipped at your tea while reading over his latest case and thinking - perhaps you could pose a sort of challenge. See how far he could actually take his intellect. And why not add something on top of it? Why not do it all while right under his nose?

It was easier to orchestrate a crime in this grand city than it should have been. You went missing. You created a trail of very subtle clues and sat yourself down in a loft in the city owned by an executive of a company you didn’t like very much and spent your days following the case on the news. Sherlock Holmes was brought in to consult. On the television, you saw him standing outside of your brownstone, Lestrade with him, waving away the press. To every question asked, they said no comment. That told you a lot.

It took them two total days to find you. You weren’t impressed at all. You thought that Sherlock was supposed to be brilliant, but alas. That’s the problem with trying to meet people these days. Most of them were a disappointment, especially in the intelligence sector. But Sherlock was the closest thing to a match that you had in this city, even if he was still a level below you. As your father said, sometimes you just had to play nice with the unfortunates. It’s not their fault that they’re so ... stupid.

You had more than enough time to anticipate his entrance, and to play it up. You were just a poor victim. You had been taken from your home, tasered, blindfolded. You had the burn marks on your side to prove it. The lengths that you would go to for this plan, the scars were just the beginning. Who took you, Lestrade asked, while Sherlock looked carefully at everything. You had no worries about him finding any evidence that you were just here at your leisure. That a simple hour ago, you had been sitting on the couch, reading a worn out copy of The Iliad, snacking on some goldfish crackers. No crumbs, the book slipped back into the bookshelf, yourself being bound once more and a look of desperation on your tear lined face. They bought it. They absolutely bought it.

You were treated in A&E for the burns, and you watched on the TV that the executive was arrested. Not only for kidnapping, but for all sorts of business malpractices. Money laundering, illegal displacements of funds, all of that very fun stuff that was going to have him tied up in the courts for at least a decade. He pleaded his innocence to everything that he was being charged with, but the evidence spoke for itself, and if he was lying about one thing, who is to say that he isn’t lying about everything? It was the simplest thing in the world. And his reason for kidnapping you? A complete accident, of course, the address of your brownstone was on an Avenue, while the address of one of the accountants was the same number, the same street name, but on a Grove. Easy mistake. They were keeping you around while trying to figure out what to do with you, since you were innocent.

Really, it was all too easy to set all of this up. You just had to act all traumatized, answer the questions, and work your way into Sherlock’s life. How did he find you, you asked. And he was only too happy to explain how ‘easy’ it was, with the eight steps that he took. You attempted to look impressed, you really did. But you couldn’t stop yourself from interrupting during the fourth, “-and those emails didn’t make it clear to you?” You asked,making him pause. That was all that you would have needed, if you wanted to spend your time looking for missing people. “Sorry, sorry,” You muttered. “I’m grateful, I am, I just would have thought - no, never mind.”

“No, go on,” Sherlock insisted. And you explained yourself, how what the email said - written by you through the executive’s account, easy peasy, should have pointed him to look into his other properties. Then they might have been at the door as soon as yesterday. Sherlock seemed to give that some thought. He looked pensive, an amusing expression because it meant that he knew you had a point, a ‘simpleton’ like you. He was gazing at you differently than before now, and you settled into the hospital bed, pretending to have gotten a sort of pain.

And as expected, he kept in touch. You had planted the seeds of interest inside of him. He was intrigued by you, and you - well, you appeared to be eager to learn. He took you under his wing, so to speak. Minute by minute, the amount of rage that he caused inside of you grew larger. He was so sanctimonious. So smug. So fucking holier-than-thou. And then you met his brother Mycroft and saw how much that ran in the family. His parents must be entirely insufferable. And then there was John. Poor little John Watson, always bring dragged into these dangerous situations, and puffing out his chest like a hero as he wrote them out on his blog, as if he had been the one to save the day. As if. It was usually some off-hand comment by you, or some comment made innocently that had put Sherlock on the right path. You weren’t made for the role of a hero. It was infuriating.

Your plotting began the first moment that he invited you to help him with a case. It was hard for you to admit, but you became obsessed with the idea of taking Sherlock down. Of wiping that stupid expression off of his face for good. Villains were always monologuing before a kill, which meant that the hero had time to escape and save the day, hurrah hurrah, so you wouldn’t be able to give him the full experience of pointing out all of his wrongs, unfortunately. It was so temping though. He really just assumed that he was always the smartest person in the room. You were giving yourself an ulcer putting up with it.

You were always one step ahead. You might have a bit of an ego but you couldn’t put it at more than that. He was close to being your match. And you hated him for it. You loathed every second that you were around him. You hated how slow he could be, how it took him an additional day, an additional hour to catch onto something in a case that you had noticed right away. There were times when you had to innocently bring up a fact just so that he would have a chance to catch up. Just so that there wouldn’t be an innocent death on your hands, or an additional murder out there. You might not have much of a conscience but you did have a care for those that couldn’t always help themselves.

God, how you hated him. And how you couldn’t express it around him. He probably thought you worshiped him, the narcissistic pig-face. You couldn’t murder him too quickly, no, you had to play it cool, learn every facet of his life to use it all against him. He had his walls built up castle size, however. It was hard to get even the slightest bit out of him without him catching onto you. That’s why it had been taking so long. Years. Years of your life wasted but the fall was going to be the most beautiful thing in the world. You already started to make your moves - Moriarty was becoming more well known now, and you pushed forward an actor who knew nothing about you save for the instructions you sent him from afar, just to throw off more blame from you.

Five years. Orchestrating from behind the scenes. There was no satisfaction that you had ever felt more strongly than that when Sherlock was stressing out over what Moriarty’s next move was going to be. You learned how to keep control of your facial features to the point where you deserved every award out there. Give you an Emmy, give you an Oscar, the Academy should be worshiping your feet.

But there was one thing that you did not foresee. Someone else wanting to get to Sherlock as much as you do. But they took the quick and easy route, rather than the concentrated long-game that you did. It wasn’t even some mastermind that did it either. It wasn’t Magnussen. It wasn’t even Culverton Smith. It was just some run of the mill murderer. Some guy with a gun who was trying to get away from Sherlock and Lestrade. The stupid Holmes, he wasn’t even supposed to be a part of physically catching the murderer. He was just supposed to stay inside of Baker Street, come up with the killer, phone it in and wait. His stubbornness was going to get himself killed before your plans came to fruition.

The man had a gun, a pocket pistol of sorts. And he was turning around to shoot Sherlock, his coat flinging away from his torso as you watched in slow-motion. He whipped it out like he thought he was some sort of action star. Lestrade was running too hard, too fast, to start to take out his gun properly. He was fumbling while trying to get it out of his belt. Sherlock was trying to stop, but his momentum was too fast. He was thrust forward, nearly falling to the ground. And John, poor limping John, had nearly crashed into a postbox. It was up to you at this point. You were closest, having been told to try to cut him off from the side street. A mere two meters. You could let him shoot Sherlock. It was an easy shot. He wouldn’t get away with it. You could claim that you were too far away to stop him.

But no. That was letting him get off way too easily.

Your knife was easier to get out of your pocket than any weighty gun was. Just the push of a button on the handle and the blade came out, sharpened just that week. It glinted in the streetlight, right into the eyes of the murderer. It distracted him but only for the narrowest second. He tried to blink the glare out of the corner of his eye and by that time, it was too late for him. You reached him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and thrusting the blade right into his gut. And with a sweeping motion, you slid it through the flesh, through the shirt, and tore it out of his side, blood rising to the surface. In his pain and his panic, he fired off a shot. It hit a no parking sign, and ricochet, going through the windshield of a car that was breaking that rule. Then the murderer started to fall towards the ground, slowly, slowly, everything still in slow motion for you as your brain worked quickly.

Stabbing someone is not as easy as one would make it seem. You had to push it through layers of skin, all pushed together. Organs as well. It wasn’t a thin little pork chop. It took strength. It took determination. And it took a real sharp knife. Even wrenching it out, covered in blood, was rough. Your biceps were sore just from the motion, but your adrenaline was rushing, making it hard to notice or focus on.

There was so much blood. You didn’t typically get your hands dirty like this. It was so sticky and so messy. It was like glue from elementary school. When you pulled out the knife, and let go of the man as he started to fall, you realized that it had spilled over the handle as well. It had gotten onto your coat. It even got onto the trousers that you had just picked up from the dry-cleaner the night before. And it looked like he wasn’t even going to be around to foot the bill to get them re-cleaned. You looked down at his body, while still holding the knife over him, and noticed how it was more than just blood that was coming out of the large gash that you had made in him. An intestine was spilling out, looking like a limp snake.

You knew exactly what you were doing. There wasn’t any shock to it, there wasn’t any trepidation or regret afterwards. It was a simple annoyance. As was everything that was going to come afterwards.

Back-up finally started to approach, sirens coming from the top of the police cars. Sherlock and Lestrade finally caught up to you, the policeman looking at the body and Sherlock looking at you. “Are you hurt?” The lank man asked - as if he had thoughts of anyone outside of himself.

“I don’t think so,” You said, knowing perfectly well that you were fine. Not even a nick. Not even a bruise. Just the work out from going through those layers and layers of epidermis. “He was going to kill you.”

“Yeah, he was,” Lestrade said, kicking the pistol out of the way, and then dropped down to the ground. Two fingers against his neck to test his pulse. He shook his head. “Dead.”

Too quick. That was annoying. You could have spit. Anger was making you start to shake, but Sherlock took it as you being in shock. He put a hand on your upper arm and you flinched away - the audacity of this skinny bitch. He muttered to the back up police that you were in shock. You braced yourself. You knew what was coming. There was no way that you were going to kill someone in public like this without getting cuffed.

And that’s where you were now. Sherlock was yelling in your defense. John was trying to explain to an officer what had happened. Lestrade was promising you that he’d meet you at the station and everything would be cleared up. Surprisingly, you felt alright. You had a calm and level head now that the threat had been eradicated. The only thing that was possibly upsetting was the fact that the victim wasn’t the correct person. You didn’t offer any trouble to the officers, to your credit. You could have broken out of these cuffs easily. They all had a weak spot, but you didn’t. You allowed yourself to be taken to the station. You allowed yourself to be fingerprinted. To be put into an interrogation room.

Just because your plan was being forced to change didn’t mean that it was off. You just had to take a different approach now. It was the perfect time to break Sherlock’s little heart. To let him know that all of the trust he had put into you over the last couple of years was misguided. That he was not smart enough to see this coming.

--

You were waiting in interrogation for an hour before Lestrade, Sherlock and another officer came in. “This is just a formality,” Lestrade explained, looking annoyed at the other officer. “We just need your statement and then we can process your release. It was clearly in self defense. We’ll have this sorted in no time,” Greg assured you. “Can we at least remove the cuffs?”

The officer acquiesced, coming around to your side of the table and undid the cuffs around your neck. You rubbed at where they had irritated your skin. Such barbaric little things, these handcuffs. A rope with a good knot was much more effective, but you know how men are. They love the look of metal. You smiled at Greg thankfully, since you honestly had nothing against the detective. He was a good man. Not smug. A little confused sometimes, but it was adorable in it’s own way. “Can you tell us what happened?” He asked.

And so you went through the story. You told him about the case. How you had come to hear about this killer. How he had the gun out and how you pieced together his intent to kill Sherlock Holmes.

“And you stabbed him in defense of Mr. Holmes?” The officer, who had conducted the interview asked you.

“Of course,” You said, leaning back casually against the chair. “I couldn’t let him do such a thing. Not after everything that I had planned. I’ve had to modify it now because of the current circumstances, but what can you do? Even simpletons can disrupt the best laid plans. I know now to try to accommodate discrepancies.”

“Beg your pardon?” Lestrade said, leaning forward, his face confused. But what you were looking at was Sherlock. He looked utterly bewildered for just a couple of seconds before he regained control. He hated to be caught unaware. It was satisfying to see.

“What I’m saying, Greg,” You reiterated. “-is that the real reason I killed this man, whatever his name is, I can hardly remember now, is because I wasn’t going to let him take the kill away from me. Since I had met Mr. Sherlock Holmes here, I’ve had this craving to be the one that wipes his smugness away from the world. I satisfied myself for a time on the fact that he really isn’t as smart as everyone, including himself, thinks that he is. Why, he never even caught on that meeting one another was a farce. I wasn’t kidnapped by anyone. I set it all up myself as a test to him, to compare intellect. He did pass it, but I thought he would catch on a lot faster. Seemed he never had,” You smirked over in Sherlock’s direction. He was starting to get flustered. An angry kind of flustered. “These last couple of years, Sherlock, I’ve helped you so many times. It was so ... so infuriating watching you take the credit when I handed you the answers. Did all of you really think that he solved all of those cases by himself? Not a chance. See, we’re very different, you and I. While you thought you were grooming me, I was playing you the entire time. I had this ... this beautiful, extravagant plan made up that would destroy your life before I took it, but it seems I’m going to have to go another way because of this. I’ll make sure that the detour is worth it. I will take your life with my own hands, and I will enjoy every second of it. That is my statement. I won’t fight against the cuffs officer, so if you please, you can take me to prison now. I admit full conspiracy to murder, and second degree murder for that poor killer. I look forward to making some new friends.”

Lestrade was in shock, because he had considered you a friend. He had considered you to be an asset to Scotland Yard. The other officer was more unbiased, and hurried to put the handcuffs back on you, to hoist you up. He was acting rather roughly with you, showing anger and disgust, which was ever more amusing because this man, this random officer, was never going to be on your level. Before you left though, you couldn’t help but say some last minute words to the tall man who was starting to stand, hands slightly trembling.

“Oh, and Sherlock” You said, making sure his eyes were on yours. You had one more blow to deliver. “If it’s any consolation to you, your brother didn’t figure out that I am Moriarty, either. And he’s of far better intellect than you are.”

If anything was going to leave him more angry than your betrayal, it was that blow to the ego. You saw those words hit home, gave a little wave with your fingers, and allowed yourself to be lead out past a bewildered John Watson, Lestrade and Sherlock following and talking amongst themselves until you were out the door.

--

Two weeks. That’s all that it took. Two weeks and you were out and about in London once more, and not in the prison cell that you should have been in. You even beat the timing in the show Prison Break. In another life, you might have been able to make a fortune in pointing out the weaknesses in the prison structure, in the timing of the changing of the guard, of blind spots from the cameras that even the guards didn’t know about.

And now, you were casually scrolling through a phone that you had stolen from some teenager in the park, while watching Sherlock being put into a black cab by Lestrade to be taken to a safe house. News had emerged of your grand escape. Of the riots that had happened in your name back at the prison. You hadn’t escaped alone, of course not. You brought some people out with you, the ones who had taken the fall for the Moriarty name.

You stepped out onto the sidewalk, and started walking to a car that was idling in wait for you. You got into the passenger seat, eyes still towards 221B. Mrs Hudson was standing in the doorway, looking worryingly out after the car Sherlock was taking off in, the one that you and your actor would be tailing at a distance. Poor dear. You always did like that woman. She knew her place. And that place was making the best cuppa that you ever had.

The dark haired actor maneuvered the car onto the small street, and started the drive. You chose the music, putting on something fun, kind of poppy. A ‘grooving on a Sunday afternoon’ sort of song, singing along as you made your way to enact your final plans.

[stxrmylxve]

okay hear me out !! being best friends with THE trio baji/chifuyu/kazutora and one of them falling in love with fem!reader (it’s up to you who.. surprise me) how would the others two react and how would they help

Pairing: reader x chifuyu Notes: cussing, fluff lol A/N: okay this is the most UNDERRATED trio in tr like??? ty for the request!

"But baji-san, I like y/n..."

"YOU FUCKIN' WHAT?"

okay let's be honest, chifuyu has no clue how to confess to you without stuttering

baji isn't a whole lot of help... kazutora doesn't have any experience

baji will probably accidentally let it slip one day when you're hanging out with the group lol

"ehh.. not like that!" chifuyu exclaims as he scoots away from you.

"dude... you literally said you like them. isn't that like a dream come true, not weird?"

kazutora holds himself back from literally slapping baji-

you just kinda stare at chifuyu as he glares at Baji before laughing

if baji doesn't let it slip, he simply tells chifuyu to do an anonymous confession sort of letter

I would say that kazutora helps him write the letter one day after studying while Baji sleeps with Peke J

either way, you end up laughing at chifuyu's embarrassed face when you find out that he likes you lmao

they're honestly cute ngl

you might give them all small pecks before latching onto chifuyu's hand and taking off

"ohhh they're totally gonna' go somewhere to go kiss"

"Baji you literally have never dated someone, how would you know what they're going to go do?"

[candiid-caniine]

[cw: infidelity, mention of doxxing]

sometimes i wonder if there aren't secret kinksters reading this blog. people in totally vanilla relationships...for now...

imagine you're in such a vanilla relationship. you don't really do anything adventurous. you call having sex "making love." and then one day your partner leaves their phone open. it's not that you mean to snoop, you trust them, but you catch the words "whore" and "puppycunt" and you have to know. as far as you know, they don't read erotica--hell, maybe you're one of those couples for whom watching porn seems akin to cheating, even!

so you look. and you scroll. and there's my blog. maybe even asks sent anonymously, but with little turns of phrase or metaphors that make you highly suspicious your partner sent them in. you're angry. disgusted. hurt. who is this sopping bitch your partner seems so fixated on? you quickly copy the name of this blog down before your partner comes back for their phone.

you don't know why you don't confront them right then. perhaps you're determined to make me pay for my role in this betrayal, find some information you can use to hurt me like you've been hurt. or maybe you need to discern what's so special about my blog, what dissatisfactions your partner might have been yearning to remedy. so you return here in the dead of night, relishing in the sick twist of your stomach. it's almost cathartic, giving in to disgust and anger.

you could be aiming to doxx me, working some obsessive divination over the times i'm "at work" or "back home" or "going to bed," picking through the backgrounds of my scant few photos, looking for clues. you imagine composing long, angry screeds to me, threatening me, calling me every filthy slut-shaming name you can think of, but it kind of steals your thunder that i'm into it, doesn't it...? because every ask seems to have some undertone of "you're a pathetic little whore, and it's even more pathetic that you wag your tail when people tell you that, dumb dog," on and on, telling me how stupid i am for not caring about being called names, insulted, threatened, degraded...and i just lap it up.

and it's then you get frustrated with me, because you're realizing i'm just so dumb and fucked-up that i can't even really be blamed. you can't find anything hinting at manipulation or self-aggrandizement or maliciousness or jealousness at all, just the shallow, instinct-driven creature-whines for attention, no matter how bad or divided or cruel. back to disgust: that your partner could be so easily swayed by something so pitiful and thoughtless; you thought they were deep, they were intellectual. there is nothing charming about me.

yet...still, you keep returning. the longer it goes on, the longer you watch in sick, dull fascination, the longer it becomes your small infidelity, your dirty little secret. because if it was a one-sided thing, you'd have confronted them a long time ago, wouldn't you? night after night, you wonder where the line is before you've trespassed equally, before it becomes your guilt to bear.

maybe it's a few days. maybe it's a few weeks. maybe your moment of clear action, rather than simple reaction, is when you send that first ask telling me how badly you wanted to blame me for your relationship issues, but how clear it is that i'm too pathetic to even be a threat. or maybe it's when i respond telling you to take it out on me anyway, that i'm sorry, that i should be punished. or maybe it's whn you send that follow-up ask with a task to debase myself in penance, or maybe it's when i actually do it.

maybe you can rationalize your engagement as a cry for help, for attention, hoping your partner will realize, catch you, be the one to start the discussion. or maybe at this point it's just therapeutic to periodically remind yourself of how pathetic i am, how nothing i am. after all...is it really cheating if i'm so far below real person?

[missmungoe]

I hope you know just how impactful your stories are. How much of my life I’ve spent reading and rereading them since I discovered them. The excitement I feel whenever I get the notification that you’ve posted something on here. Just how giddy I get when you post a new chapter or share a snippet of an upcoming one. How I’ll drop anything and everything in my life just to read them as soon as I can. How much I appreciate you, and your willingness to share your talent so wholly. Just how many other people must feel the exact same way, not knowing how to put it into words. It’s not often that I leave comments on your stories. I’m trying to get better at that, because I know how much they mean to you, but I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I will literally drop everything to read them as soon as I know they’re out, so after spending hours greedily taking in every word, I’m sometimes just left dumbstruck and with no clue where to even begin. I’ve left a few comments similar to these on Tumblr though, always anonymous, but you always respond to them. You always make it known that they were seen, and that you appreciated them, and it always makes me so incredibly happy. I didn’t really have a purpose for this comment, I just wanted to (hopefully) make your day better, as you have for me everyday since I discovered you :)

(I have read this message so many times they'll find it imprinted on my bones)

And oh gosh, NO worries about not leaving more comments!! It's true that I really appreciate the people who take the time to write comments on my fics, and there's a handful of beloved regulars on my stories who I would commit crimes for, but I never want anyone to feel pressured to comment. I think a lot of writers just want a confirmation that someone sees them, too? At least I'm like that, but I totally understand that it might be difficult to know what to say, and it does help to hear that the reason some people don't leave comments might be this, and not (as my brain sometimes tries to convince me) that the chapter wasn't good enough to warrant a comment, so I'm going to try to keep this in mind for my own updates<3

And if you are a serial sender of asks like this, know that you have made a lot of my days better<3

[istadris]

heyy lm3 time loop

that is true, on the whole king boo needs to find some new trapping tactics lmaoo—but he can expend some creativity into throwing those wild plants into the crevices of the boiler room, working some magic to get the dino skeleton and shark to team up, and getting the magicians to make luigi’s head spin in the tombs. has the perfect pattern between similar surprises and completely new ones that get luigi to relax then immediately throw his guards up.

luigi approaching a certain area and being very very scared of it and polterpup catching on. puppy goes first to show that he’ll be okay.

also. gooigi. it’s not technically the same as having another person understand what he’s going through, but since luigi shares his consciences with him at times, maybe it helps him feel the tiniest less alone. this might be a stretch, but in the instances where gooigis in control and luigi’s just kinda. there. it could be a little reprieve for him and he just lets himself go numb.

the visual of them chasing after each other like children pushing each other against walls and decorations and breaking everything in sight is hilarious. a race to see who can find the next clue first. all the ghosts are peering around corners trying to figure out what is going on. yeah, they’ve wrecked the hotel ten times over before they realize they need to calm down.

i think if luigi was desperate enough to go to some extreme measures he’d try his best to get mario out of the building. 50/50 chance of him succeeding and mario definitely gets caught in the crossfire a few times, but he tries.

also, i can imagine luigi giving up on finding e gadd first after a while to save time and just setting up the lab himself. gets e gadd eventually and man doesn’t question it, just scolds him for moving one tiny thing an infinitely tiny amount to the left.

luigi’s got plans for these ghosts and he’s got the time to make it happen. if he wants it, he’ll get it. helps that they all want a piece of him.

One day you'll have to come off anon so I can properly message you and we can yell together about this AU

(joking aside, I understand if you'd prefer stay anonymous, don't worry about it ^^)

King Boo would actually find this "game" very fascinating and entertaining. He can kill Luigi over and over, and he can afford to be creative about it ! He love his art and makes all his traps as detailed as paintings.Playing with "colours", "texture", experimenting and playing with that eternal canvas...but he slowly grows frustrated of the very issue with a perpetual reset : what's the point of art, if you can't immortalise it ? What is left of your ideas if they get erased and need to be redone everytime ? What IS the most perfect way of ending this duel between him and his nemesis ?

Polterpup going first into dangerous areas ;c; You know it's interesting because King Boo never seems to acknowledge Polterpup, even if he's essential to Luigi's survival. Even with Polterkitty, it got annoyed at best by the poppy's antics. Makes me wonder if even ghosts don't dare to hurt him or if he's got his own brand of Weird Ghost Magic...

That's a very interesting use of Gooigi! For some reason ghosts still have trouble distinguishing Gooigi from the real deal, so it does give Luigi a much needed reprieve. Sinking into the strange consciousness of the goo creature until he's ready to get back out and face the horrors.

The loops are totally a Bugs Bunny cartoon at this stage. Full Looney Tunes shenanigans as they work out their frustrations and anger through absolutely petty revenges and chases.

I agree with you there, actually. No matter what, Mario's safety would still be his priority. Maybe at the cost of the other's safety, leading to some awful moments in specific loops...

Pfff, of course E.Gadd wouldn't question the situation. At least until Luigi mentions the time loop, THEN only does E.Gadd become extremely interested ! His nagging doesn't change though, to the point Luigi doesn't feel as bad as he should for "forgetting" E.Gadd here and there. He's still very helpful in figuring out some of the knacks of the time loop.

Luigi walking through the manor banging on pots : "BRING OUT YOUR DEAD!! BRING OUT YOUR DEAD!!! And preferably to fuck me six ways to Sunday! BRING OUT YOUR DEAD!!" Chambrea whispering to the Bellboy : "what is wrong with that guy ?? And why is it so hot??"

[hoodedchishiya]

Dear Menace, Shortcake, Le Petit Prince, Drama King, Handsome, Chishiya;

Thank god this is anonymous or there’d be a you-sized hole in the nearest wall. Or you’d jump from the roof and avoid the pool entirely when you land.

Where to start? Would you believe I’ve never written a love letter before? And I’m the one that’s the best out of both of us when it comes to words and talking… confessing is an entirely different story.

Let’s see… what do I admire about you: first there’s your calm demeanor, it’s what drew me to you. In all chaos there was you standing stoic and unfazed, the calm before the storm. Little did I know you were more terrifying than anything a game could come up with. Then there’s your intelligence, limitless and the way you always surprise me with facts and knowledge, how you say it so matter-of-fact while annoying is also ridiculously sexy.

Lastly… despite claiming you’re not good with words, or comfort… I found a home in you. I’ve loved learning that there’s more to you than you let others see, and am so happy that I get to see the person you truly are beneath the mask bit by bit. We have our fights, mainly because you’re the gasoline constantly fueling my short fuse, but every silence I curse your way through SHH and SHUT UP is actually I love you.

ANYWAY, if you made it this far without throwing up or setting this letter on fire… long story short, I’m grateful I’ve met you.

Special request if you can guess who this is then surprise me in that doctor coat of yours~

~The sun to your moon

XOXO! Anonymously send my muse a love letter from a secret admirer

Menace? Shortcake? Le Petit Prince? Drama King? All very questionable, but Handsome— okay, I’ll let you have that one since it actually makes sense.

But hm, I wonder who this love letter could possibly be from. I have no inkling whatsoever. Not a clue at all, and this is totally not sarcasm by the way. Or is it~?

But in all seriousness.. I’ve never received anything like this before. I almost don’t have the words to describe how I’m feeling and you know me well enough to know that it takes a lot to render me speechless. If you are who I think you are and I know you are then you’re aware that sappy things make me retch and throw up in my mouth.. this, however.. well, let’s just say it hit differently. Especially now that you’ve finally admitted that my intelligence is off the charts and sexy in your own words~ I swear that isn’t the only part I paid any attention to.

Now I’m only going to say this once, so you better not get too used to it.. but thank you. I needed this. And.. I love like you too a little bit.

I’ll be waiting in your room tonight— doctor coat and all. Might have to give you a full examination if you know what I mean~

~Chishiya ♦️

[shipcestuous]

Valentine's Day Event Submission

My submission for the Valentine's Day event/challenge described here.

(The prompt was: How the incest pairing of your choice ended up on a date on Valentine’s Day. The general idea is that they’re not an established couple and this happened accidentally or through a series of unforeseen circumstances. Or it’s not supposed to be a date, but by the end of the night it basically was one. Not a date but totally a date.)

I meant to write a summary of events and it became a whole story. Oops!

Heart-Shaped

The valentine had been tucked into the front pocket of Fiona's backpack. She didn't keep much in the front pocket, just lip balm and lotion, and she couldn't remember how long it had been since she had last opened it - at least two days. Which meant she had no idea when it had been slipped in there and had no clues about who might have done it.

It was anonymous. Handmade. Heart-shaped. There was a short poem about how he had admired her from afar. How much he liked her smile and her hair, and how pretty he thought her eyes were. And there was an invitation - to meet him for dinner on Valentine's Day at 7 o'clock at Ernesto's. (Big spender, for a high school student.) If she was interested, she was supposed to draw a lipstick heart on the window of the side door that led out of the gym so that he would know she was coming. At the restaurant, she was to go to the table next to the fountain, the one with the empty seat waiting for her, with the pink rose resting on it.

Like in elementary school, there was candy taped to it. Elementary school also happened to be the last time Fiona could remember having received a valentine. It was a roll of Smarties. "Your favorite", the note said. Smarties weren't her favorite, but she ate them anyway, pondering with excitement who her secret admirer could possibly be. She really didn't have any idea.

The following morning, she drew the heart on the window as instructed. Why the hell not? It was better than watching a movie by herself on Valentine's Day. “Take A Chance On Me” by ABBA kept playing in her head.

Valentine's Day was a full week later, but it had not been enough time for her to figure out who had sent her the valentine. Her friends had not been able to help, they had never noticed anyone staring or asking about her. Fiona was constantly looking around her, wondering who it might have been. But she didn't catch any smiles or nervous head-turns. She wished she had a little more information, but had decided that at least a bad date was a date. There had been far too few of those.

She spent too long on her hair, to the point that she ruined it. Then she had to start over and was going to be late. Her dress didn't feel right, it was all staticky and kept sticking to her legs. I shouldn't be this nervous, I don't even know if I like him yet. But she had spent all week anticipating this. Growing fond of this shy guy who liked her smile, and his adorable corny tactics.

Soundtrack Insert:

The fountain was in view long before the table was. She turned the corner, and there it was. The empty chair, the rose. But he didn't even have to turn his head, she could already see who it was. "Brighton?!!"

Her brother looked towards her and took her in with dismay. He shooed her away: "Get out of here, I'm on a date. What the hell are you even doing here? Never mind, I don't care. Goodbye."

"What do you mean you're on a date? Where is she? Why are you at this table?" She glanced around. Surely this was the only one the valentine could have been referencing. And the rose...

"She's not here yet." He shooed her again, like she was a cat hanging around the bird feeder.

"Oh my God." Fiona brushed the rose off the chair and plopped down dejectedly, pulling the valentine out of purse and setting it down on the table between them.

He stared down at it with wide eyes. "What are you doing with that?"

Fiona sighed heavily. No secret admirer. No shy guy. Just an idiot brother. "I found it in my backpack. Don't tell me I was supposed to deliver it for you. You never told me to."

He picked it up and regarded it with horror. "She never got it? That means..." His eyes glazed over. "That means she's not coming, and she never agreed to go out with me."

"Who was it for?"

He didn't want to tell her, but she just kept staring at him and he caved: "Ugh, fine. It was for Megan Cartwright."

"I didn't know you liked her."

"Why would you know?"

"So how did it end up in my backpack?"

"I don't know! I slipped it into her backpack during lunch like a week and a half ago."

Fiona shook her head. "Well, you must have put it into mine. Smooth move, Romeo."

"No. You have that ugly yellow backpack with the penguin patches. I think I would know that wasn't hers."

"Ugly? It was a great backpack. A great backpack that I haven't used since before Christmas - the zipper broke. You haven't noticed? I have a black Jansport now. Oh! Just like-"

Brighton's head fell heavily into his hands. "Just like hers. Oh my God."

"And we did eat at the same table last week. I got up to buy a cookie. Aaaaaand we both have Bigfoot pins that Ellie was selling.” Fiona made a pitying face that Brighton did not see. His arms were crossed on the table and he had faceplanted into them. "I guess you're not such an idiot."

"You didn't call me an idiot."

"I did in my head."

He lifted his face to look at her with surprise. “I didn't know you were into Bigfoot.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, a little.” A wry look crossed his face. “What?” she asked.

“Nothing. I just thought it was so charming and quirky of her. I didn't realize the entire sophomore class had them!” He groaned.

“They don't,” Fiona replied with dignity. “I think Ellie sold three of that kind. She's really good at making enamel pins. She's got an Etsy.”

Brighton sat up and shook the valentine at her. “Why did you think this was for you?” he demanded.

She took it from him, laid it open on the table, and pointed at the various words: “Great hair? Great smile? Pretty eyes? Of course I thought it was about me.”

He laughed and rubbed his eye. “Right.”

“I guess the Smarties should have been a clue. Anyone who liked me would know my favorite candy is-”

“Reese's Pieces,” he finished for her.

Fiona glanced around the restaurant. It was busy - almost all of the tables were full - but quiet. Mandolin and accordion music was playing gently over the speakers. The lights were low, with candles at each table. The beautiful flower centerpiece was very fragrant. Violets and primroses. She looked across the table at Brighton. This was...surprising. Learning Brighton had a romantic side would be like learning that their mom liked to go to the skate park after work to shred pavement with the boyz.

She gestured at him. “I didn't know you had this in you.”

“Oh God,” he said, embarrassed.

She laughed. “No, it's sweet. It's cute.”

“Oh God,” he repeated.

“My older brother. The romantic.” He had done himself up well, styling his hair with gel and wearing slacks and a blazer, with a white button-up shirt underneath. He even had a flower tucked into his breast pocket. She pulled her phone out and snapped a picture. He tried to cover his face, but was too late.

Their waiter came along a second later, and laid down a hot plate of mozzarella sticks, or whatever fancy name Ernesto's used to describe it. “I already ordered an appetizer,” Brighton said with regret, leaning back in his chair and sighing.

“A pound of fried cheese. Erotic.”

“More for me,” he said, pulling the plate towards him.

She reached out and stopped him. “I didn't say I didn't want any.”

The waiter bent over and picked up the rose that she had discarded. He pulled scissors from his pocket and snipped the stem, then pulled off the remaining thorns with his nail, and handed it to Brighton. “A lovely flower for a lovely lady. Put it behind her ear,” he encouraged. Brighton stared at him blankly. “Go on! It's very romantic.” The waiter obviously thought Brighton needed some help wooing his date after the appetizer misstep. Brighton glanced around. A few couples at other tables had turned to look. They were all couples, at every table. He bowed to the pressure, darting the waiter a forced smile tinged with ingratitude, and then he reached across the table and awkwardly tucked the rose behind Fiona's ear. The waiter clapped, and then pulled out his pad. “A drink for the lady?”

“The lady will have water,” Brighton answered sourly.

“Sparkling water,” Fiona added, grinning wickedly at Brighton.

“It's probably ten dollars a bottle for Perrier here,” Brighton said, after the waiter had departed.

“You shouldn't have asked me out to such a nice place.” She laughed and then picked up a mozzarella stick, or, rather, they had come in cube form, with garnish. “Let's eat this while it's hot and then we can go.” She regarded him with a sigh. “I'm sorry, Brighton. You'll just have to ask her out again. Why didn't you just do it to her face?” It was hard to imagine someone rejecting Brighton, even if he did wear basketball shorts and a hoodie most days.

Soundtrack Insert:

“She probably gets asked out a lot. I thought this would make me stand out.”

“You really like her?”

He shrugged. “I guess I don't know her that well. But I wanted to get to know her. So, do you think she's out with someone else tonight?”

“I don't know. Maybe.” Probably. “Not here, I hope.” Fiona combed as much of her hair as she could to the side of her face and then pivoted her chair away from the main part of the room.

“What are you doing?”

“You realize that everyone here thinks we're on an actual date. What if someone we know sees us?”

“Oh shit.” He scrambled to angle himself away from the prying eyes of the crowd.

“Can you imagine trying to explain what happened?” Who would believe it? And if they didn't believe it, then they might think...

...Well, it's not likely that brother and sister were just grabbing a quite bite to eat together on Valentine's Day of all days at Ernesto's, of all places. Her cheeks reddened as she thought about it. Please, God, let no one see us.

In whatever the opposite of an answer to prayer was, an older woman came over from her table and gave them a big smile. “My my, aren't you just the cutest couple. Would you like me to take a picture for you?”

“We're not-” Brighton began, with Fiona offering up the beginning of a similar protest, but the woman did not let them finish. She reached out one hand for a phone and used her other hand to gesture them to move closer together.

“Scooch on over, dear. Get close to him!”

Fiona decided the fastest way to get rid of her without embroiling themselves in an awkward explanation of why they didn't want a picture was to just play along. Fiona got the camera ready on her phone and then passed it over, and she scooted closer to Brighton. “Thanks so much,” she said weakly.

“Say, 'Happy Valentine's!'” the woman ordered. She took several photos, the flash lighting them up and drawing an unfortunate amount of attention.

*

As the woman wandered back to her table, Fiona looked at the pictures. “What filter should I use before posting this to Insta?” she joked. “Hashtag hot date, hastag cupid's arrow.”

“He's got shit aim,” Brighton mumbled.

When the waiter returned with her drink, they asked for the check, and Brighton paid while they finished the rest of the appetizer, fighting over the last piece. As they stood, Brighton scratched his forehead. “I just realized that you came here thinking you were going on a date with a secret admirer. I'm sorry.”

She shrugged. “It's OK. I figured there was a decent chance I wouldn't really be into him anyway. I didn't figure he would be my brother, but...”

“You look really nice.”

Embarrassed, she touched her hair. “Thanks. Uh, thanks for noticing. You clean up pretty well, too.” Outside, Brighton helped her load her bicycle into the trunk of his car. Then he opened the door for her, like a gentleman. She laughed and climbed in, moving aside a shoe box that was on the seat. “Your bowling shoes?”

“Yeah. I was going to take her bowling after dinner. If she wanted.”

“I would love to go bowling.”

He studied her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They were at the bowling alley for a few hours, longer than she thought they would stay. They bowled a few games and then moved over the arcade, breaking for hot dogs in the middle. On the drive home, he brought out the chocolate-covered strawberries he had bought for Megan, which they devoured. They parted ways in the upstairs hallway at home.

“When I left tonight, I was worried that it was going to be a bad date,” Fiona admitted, smiling at him. “It wasn't really a date, but it definitely wasn't bad.”

“No, it wasn't.” He kissed her on the cheek, which she couldn't recall him ever doing before. And then they said goodnight.

As Fiona crawled into bed that night, the rose having found its way to her bedside table, her first thought was, another Valentine's Day spent single. But instead of the usual aching emptiness, she felt ooey gooey and warm.

(I also posted this to AO3.)

(*AI did the heavy lifting with this art. There are many excellent reasons for objecting to AI art as it is currently playing out, but in this context, which I see as fun among friends, I hope it will be forgiven. )

[noisester]

ANONYMOUS: I think I've only seen him around Peppino's pizzeria once or twice, but I guess that's enough to give a fair assessment? Noise is like a cat geeked out on speed. Charming in some aspect, but also so extremely full of bastard. I am torn between fearing for my life and betting that he'd be a RIOT to take to a carnival. Which I totally would, but I don't think we know each other well enough yet! Maybe someday. The amount of people who might judge me for trying to make friends with Theodore Noisester is in the triple digits.

✎✉ - oh it’s just a lot of ufcking anon hate in tehre nevrermind…..

"Woawag!"

His last few remaining braincells tried fully processing the message as he reread it over and over in his mind. Mhm. That sounds like something he'd do and enjoy doing, actually. Whoever sent that must've been someone he was slightly more tolerable around in the past, or at least somehow had an interaction that didn't inspire enough ire. Surely he'll put his finger on the name, right? Of course he will. He's da Noise, babey. Nobody could escape h—

"Yeah. I have no clue who the hell that's from." Oh... Nevermind. "No promises on the friendship thing, though. You're gonna need to have the privileges, sorry!"

[spikyhairedsilhouette]

it's difficult to find aspects in which you could improve because truthfully i have always deeply admired your writing and your portrayal of character. your attention to detail conveys so much subtlety and nuance and i strive to reach your level of vocabulary without having to incessantly use google search for synonyms. reading your writing inspires me (and i safely assume others too) to flesh out my own writing and to also make it into something beautiful. i think the advice id give to you, myself, and just about any other writer would be to try and release control. when i can shut off my internal editor i find so much joy in letting the words come without criticizing them. your love for your character bleeds into your writing and whatever level of effort you pour into any given piece is commendable and appreciated. i think its totally acceptable to continually strive to be a better writer, AND to be proud of what you've accomplished.

how can i improve my writing? || anonymous

thank you for these kind words, anon. i have to reassure you though (and anyone else who might read this) that i am always sitting at my computer with about 14 tabs open when i write, and at least 3 of them are thesauruses. i google constantly, i search for exactly the right word for waaaaay too long, & i research a lot when i have no clue what i'm talking about. i seriously envy the people who just sit and flow and don't think twice about anything, but that's just never been my style. i'm working on it though because, to your point, there's a lot of value in it and, most importantly, freedom.

[insecateur]

what do you think of the recent vgc controversies ?

hey anon! i'd like to preface this by saying that this isn't me being mad or annoyed at you or anything, i don't mind people asking me about my opinions on stuff in general. but i really want to emphasize bc i feel like some people might not fully believe it when i say that or maybe you just never saw me say it before bc you're a recent follower or something in which case that's fair - but i really don't keep track of news in the fandom at all. as of right now i barely even keep track of news for the canon lmfao, i still haven't beaten scavio so all the stuff coming out for it is kinda of limited interest to me.

all that to say, i'm cool with giving my opinion on things but please tell me what you referring to in details when you do LOL. because it's very likely (like 99% honestly) that i'll have no clue what you're talking about and i don't necessarily feel like tracking down what's going on just to answer an anonymous ask, you know?

anyway, from a cursory glance it looks like it's about people using hacked pokémons in competitions? i'll be honest, i have limited interest in competitive pokémon play in general (i used to be in the french community and it was Not a great place to be in if you weren't a white cisguy let's just say, however this was over 5 years ago so maybe it's gotten better.) i totally get how people get into it, i think it's interesting on a base level, kinda scratch a similar itch as shiny hunting (which i'm more involved in) except less repetitive and more competitive i guess. and i get why tpc would discourage people using hacked pokémons (nintendo is very opposed to game mods/hacks in general as we know)

at the same time tho, i also feel like competitive play and breeding for competitive play are different areas of interest? if you're actually more into the competitive aspect than the repetitive aspect i understand not wanting to bother with breeding and hatching eggs and all of that. as long as you're not generating an impossible pokémon, i suppose i don't really see the issue. now obviously if people are able to check that some pokémons are hacked it's because they have flags that show that they're hacked, but i feel like the difference between "has impossible stats" (something that would actually give the pokémon an advantage) and "shows up as caught/obtained in a way that's clearly impossible" (something that has no incidence on the play) makes one clearly cheating and one more like... not wanting to bother with the part you don't find fun

so i guess i'm of two minds about it. obviously allowing it means that people are going to abuse it, and there clearly aren't accurate enough checks to catch people who are actually cheating (not to mention with the number of participants i'm not even sure how they'd even check further) in that situation i understand just banning it outright, because it's simply fairer to the people who actually go through the effort of breeding and training their pokémons. and i guess you could say that the people who just want to do the competitive stuff and not have to bother with actual training could just do casual competitions or showdown. but i also understand wanting to put that skill to the test in a real championship

..............now if this wasn't what you were referring to i hope you enjoy my tl;dr opinions about pokémon vgc either way

[17020s]

XOXO, GOSSIPCORP.

Reo Mikage is bored inside his father's office. 1.1k crack(?). not proof-read.

REO MIKAGE had reached a newfound state of total boredom.

The heir of the Mikage Corporation had been in training to become President, he found himself sitting inside his father's office, who ditched him for a meeting. A seventeen-year-old, left with little to no supervision. What could possibly go wrong?

His cellphone was the only thing he needed.

Unlimited data had been granted to him by his father, so he grinned as his finger slid across the screen, turning off the Wi-Fi and lowering his brightness settings.

No one had to know. There could be no trace left behind.

He had been thinking about it for a while, he lacked the feeling of enjoyment as he walked around the Corporation building, as some higher-up showed him around while talking their ear off about how great the company was. Reo was observant, always taking notice of what went on around him. He noticed the lovesick puppies, the sleep deprived, and the jealous.

He was going to meet the workers, to get a feel of the environment. His father left him with no choice, he was forcing him to follow his footsteps. Might as well take advantage of it.

Reo Mikage would never describe himself as a nosy person, the drama made its way to him, after all. He just happened to get ahold of new information every day. That's all.

(Reo Mikage is a chismoso. The CEO of gossip, if you will.)

He sighed, typing a new email and a password onto his phone. No profile picture, a private profile, and a brief description:

"Send your confessions in! 100% anonymous."

It didn't help that he had access to important files, like the personal information of workers, as well as their social media handles (it was a requirement to give them, as a background check is mandatory. Mikage Corp's clean image could not be stained by some worker's previous and future posts.)

Sending requests wouldn't hurt, right?

He knew that an office job could bring boredom to some, and this could be their escape. They were about to fall in the trap of Reo Mikage, as they started following the account in hopes of finding juicy information about their coworkers. Or perhaps, in hopes of finding posts about themselves—one could never know how self-centered humans could be.

To make it believable, Reo had to make the first move. He switched to his main account and followed the account, instantly leaving a message. He could sacrifice himself, at least to get the confessions to roll in.

Switching accounts back, he copied his message and proceeded to make the first post.

@ GossipCorp: Anonymous said: "Mikage Corp's heir is cute. So is the CEO's wife. Does beauty run in their genes???!"

Of course, the first confession had to be about him. It'll make it believable, he thought. His obsession with his image was to be discussed later.

Surprisingly, workers fell for his trap. It felt like an underground group, as the higher-ups had no clue of what went on while others worked. Confessions flooded the Direct Messages, and he lived for it. GossipCorp became the highlight of everyone's day, even reaching the workers of other corporations. Might as well get a checkmark, as the account had gained hundreds of followers.

He put on his glasses, sitting down in his bed and reading the messages sent to him. Well, to GossipCorp.

"The ceo's assistant is hot."

"gosh, the head of the marketing department is such a bitch. cant stand him!! someone pull his head out of his ass and give him a reality check."

"I heard that Daiki from sales and Momoi from marketing have a thing for one another."

"Some of the interns in training are killing me. some know how to do their job, and some don't. God help this company."

Bingo. The true colors of every worker started to show.

He laughed as he read and posted the confessions, he had switched from his phone to his laptop. Yes, the confessions were anonymous, but not to Reo. He could see the sender of the message, and he loved that. He came across one confession that had caught his interest.

"the new intern YN LN, has a huuuge crush on mikage reo. i heard another intern talking about it during lunch. i think they'd look cute together (⌒▽⌒)"

YN? He recalled seeing them once, but it was only for a few seconds. He was welcoming the interns to Mikage Corp. Reo never forgot a face, how come he couldn't remember theirs?

He had a copy of his father's files on his laptop, for security purposes, silly! Entering your file, he was in awe. The picture attached to your file left him flushed. You were too cute to be stuck in a corporation like this.

(Reo was already planning his confession, the one year anniversary date, looking up gifts for you, planning your wedding, looking up cute baby names on the internet. In case you did not want kids, he was also looking up names for pets.)

Posting the confession, he felt intrigued. He had read your file, and he would be lying to himself if he didn't think it was love at second first sight. Technically, the first one did not count.

You felt embarrassed.

Your friend showed you the post, and you wanted Earth to swallow you whole. Were you this obvious?

"I mean, you look at him like you're a lovesick puppy. Might as well start drooling in front of everyone. Oh look—there he is!"

This could not be happening right now, you thought.

His purple eyes met yours, and his lips curled into a smile as he walked past you and your friend. As your friend opened their mouth to speak, their phone made a 'ding!' sound. A notification, from who?

"GossipCorp made a new post." they whispered-yelled.

You shook your head, your friend unlocked their phone. "You seriously turned on your notifications for that?" you asked, a frown on your face. You certainly did not want to hear anything about confessions.

Your friend gasped, eyes widened. They smacked your arm, then let out a laugh as they handed you their phone. "HOLY SHIT! YOU HAVE TO READ THIS!"

You hesitantly grabbed their phone, reading the message sitting on the screen.

@ GossipCorp: Anonymous said: "Someone told me that Mikage Reo has his sights on one of the new interns"

That was too vague for your liking. One of the new interns? It could be anyone; it could be your friend, or the guy who sits next to you, or the girl who you saw talk to him this morning. The girl from this morning? Who was giggling while talking to him about the stock market in an attempt to seem interested in business? The girl, who he talked to in—

Your thoughts were interrupted by a notification, this time coming from your phone. You sworn you were going to shit your pants and faint.

[YNLN] reomikage has requested to follow you.

note. I am tempted to make a blue lock version, because you can take the boy outside of his gossip home, but you cannot take gossip out of the boy I SAID WHAT I SAID.