#where instead of bringing back the old stuff people make new stuff in a similar style that fits better with modern standards

[red-dragon-archfiend]

Y'know I didn't know how we'd get a 2010s creepypasta resurgence but I wasn't expecting it to be in the form of Friday Night Funkin' mods

[theamityelf]

Since I'm never going to take the time to actually write an SDR2 musical, I'm just going to post all my Danganronpa 2 musical brainstorms that I dumped on some acquaintances on Discord. Just as documentation.

First of all (and this is genuinely just copy-pasted in the order I said it.), Akane would have an upbeat song like Violet's in the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory musical. And maybe Nekomaru would keep trying to interrupt with a more basic melody, but then she keeps interrupting him back. Gundham’s song would be similar to H-llfire from Hunchback.

Akane's stuff could have shades of Dead Girl Walking (Reprise) from Heathers, if that makes sense. Just a vibe thing.

Plot-wise, I think the Twilight Syndrome Murder case can be dropped to just the envelope of photos, but I'd like to include the Funhouse if possible. (I specified this because I know the stageplay dropped the Funhouse, and precedent makes me stubborn.)

Chapter One:

First scene is just Hajime being confused and meeting people. Maybe we meet everyone through song, where everyone gets a verse to say their talent and their general deal.

Then we have Usami overpowered by Monokuma and Monokuma establishing the killing game. I'm thinking no song for that.

Impostor gets a song where he becomes the leader and encourages everyone.

First murder happens. A song for the trial, where Teruteru gets kind of Patter Song vibes to convey how no one could understand him at the end of that trial in the game. He's constantly interrupted by Nagito and the others.

After the trial, Nagito gets a short song about his bizarre ideology. It's going to get a few reprises later. That's why it's short. (Also, Nagito's song gets cut short by Kaz and Nekomaru abducting him.)

Chapter Two:

Instead of initially not knowing where Nagito is, the group is told the next morning that Kaz and Neko tied him up in the old building, and instead of having Mahiru bring him breakfast just once, it's a thing she does every day. She also still helps Hiyoko with her kimono

There's a song about exploring the new island, basically goes over all of what's there, in accordance with who Hajime spoke to in those places in the game (so, Fuyuhiko gets a verse in the diner, Sonia in the library, etc.) Fuyuhiko is the only character who doesn't sing (yet); he hasn't sung at all, this whole time. Not in a meta way, where he's acknowledging that everyone else is singing; he just doesn't do it.

Akane's song happens here, because it's where she first starts training with Nekomaru. Fast-paced duet where he keeps trying to slow her down.

Monokuma's motive is simplified from a video game to just an envelope of photos.

Mahiru asks Hajime to feed Nagito for her one day because she has another thing to do. He does, and Nagito sings part of a reprise for his song from earlier, but Hajime walks out on it.

Kazuichi brings Hajime in on his plan to crash the girls' beach trip, they find the body. When they find the mask, Sonia gets a song that is superficially her explaining Sparkling Justice and really her getting to be open about her interest in serial killers; there's a lot of creepy lyrical dissonance and I'm picturing it to be like (extremely deep cut incoming) the song "Silver and Gold" from the musical 1619: When Destinies Collide, as far as the general sound and the casually grim lyrics.

Investigation happens, Nagito pops in (and depending on the tone of the musical, his first line when he shows up can be something like, "Hey guys, good news! I've been in everybody's cabin tracing the shape of their shoes!"). The trial happens. They sing through presenting the evidence, except Fuyuhiko still only talks. The reveals happen the same as in the game, and Fuyuhiko's first sung word is just a long cry of Peko's name. From Chapter 3 on, he's a singing character.

Okay, that's as far as I got. Might add more later.

[x-honeycomb-x]

Your ftmtf mother is here - Intro

Wants to detransition for the kink, and need some guidance and encouragement? Here I am. I would break the journey into different chapters, and you can always share your progress with me for show-and-tell!

I would keep it old-xhoneycombx style, wholesome, neurodivergent-friendly, genderfluidity-friendly, asexuality-friendly, and hopefully anti-capitalism/consumerism-conscious.

So firstly, welcome daughters! Fucking around with gender is absolutely okay. But unlike most detrans and misgender kink content, I don't like force-play. Instead I'd like to offer some encouragement and acceptance.

I have heard stories about ftms experimenting with/reclaiming femininity for months or years, before returning to being masculine, and I think I am going through a similar process. I've since tried so many different interesting things (that includes voguing in a ballroom!), and I even found out I'm non-binary.

It can feel scary - what if I find out I'm actually not trans? What if I'm too traumatized to feel comfortable in my girl mode? What if my friends and family know? What if it makes me non-binary?

I had all of those thoughts! And may I just say that your safety is the most important thing. If you might trigger your transphobic parents, be safe. If you might trigger an episode and spiral, don't do it without a therapist. I trust that you are smart and capable of making good judgements. <3

But to address those fears, one thing I found in this journey is, that I am me no matter what vessels I put myself in. I've challenged myself, my identities and how I experience myself, and in the end I find myself feeling like me, I transcend all different labels and conditions, and I found a lot of genderless moments where I just am.

Your inner girl is calling you, I'd say why not give her a listen if you are curious?

First task incoming. Let's make space for your girl to think and be:

Prepare a notebook for her

Is there another (feminine optional) name you would like?

What pronouns you wanna explore with (in or out of kink)? It can be a mix with she/they/he/neo-pronouns

Write your name and pronouns on the first page. You can always come back and change it.

Bring her a comforting hoodie

Bring her a stuffed toy you can be a girl around with

Find her a bag and/or a basket that she can put her things in

If you've already been experimenting with detrans kink, you might have more supplies, bring them with you too.

Bring your feminine bras and underwear

Bring your feminine clothes

Bring your sex toys and kink toys

Bring your makeup, if you don't already have a makeup bag/basket, bring one and put them in

Bring your feminine accessories

Write down a list of people she's in contact with (like sext friends) and put it in your notebook

(I would really enjoy a dollar store trip for this task. A notebook, a few baskets, a plush, and maybe some snacks) (But you find most things at home.) (But buying new ones helps if you have too much associations with the old items, or you just like shopping for your girl)

Task 2, some organization would help clear your mind. If you have makeup, put them in a makeup bag/box. If you have feminine clothes and underwear, save a cabinet for them, or at least a basket. If you have sex toys, put them in a big pouch. If you have accessories, get an accessories box. Now that you're being in touch with your femininity, put your supplies in a bag (your notebook, hoodie, stuff toy, and anything you might actively use). My best advice is, put everything above in your girl cabinet, makeup and accessories on your desk, and your bag next to your bed/desk.

What I really want you to accomplish here is that, your inner girl deserves to take up space. She deserves to find the things she's looking for, she deserves a space in your life. She deserves the order so she can have space to think.

Task 3. I want you to put on your hoodie, and/or your bra and underwear, and/or your feminine clothes, and just cuddle your stuffed friend, and lay in bed. Hug it out.

You might get really horny at this point. Go for it, enjoy yourself, make it count. maybe you’re already soaking. Keep it natural by just sticking your fingers in, and really feel them going in and out. Spread your juices on your clit and rub it nicely. Cum on your own hand.

Fap or not, when you've finished and am ready, I want you(-r inner girl) to hug your plush, just hug, and think about how it's okay to be a girl.

It's okay to be a girl. You don't have to be one. You also don't have to be a binary girl, or a full-time girl. You can be sometimes a girl. Main point is, you don't have to be a girl, but it's okay to be a girl. I want you to hug and think about that idea.

(And if you want to, think about "I am a girl", and just be content with it and hug your stuffed friend. Introduce this side of yourself to it if you are ready.)

It goes without saying, if you have any thoughts, put them in your notebook. I hope your girl feels safe, and I look forward to doing more stuff with her/you next time. I hope it has been an okay/interesting/pleasant experience.

You can also inbox me your thoughts! I might not have the capacity to reply to DMs or long messages, but I definitely reads my Asks and reposts. Let me know your thoughts!

[your-old-sins-tournament]

12 YEAR OLD OCS; SIDE B

Hollystar [Orion] (she/her)

She is a warrior cats cat. And she becomes the leader of her own new clan because she is just that cool and epic. Like Starclan blessed her with the nine lives and everything. She had a forbidden romance with her deputy cat and everything

Elenora [@gentleralts] (she/her)

It's an ambiguous time period between 2007 and 2009, and a youth is sitting at their family computer. An online friend on a forum they frequented introduces them to a little website called tektek. This site had all the avatar building assets from Gaia Online (not the forum i frequented back in that day by the way) without having to own any of the items, providing an easy-ish way to show off your RP characters, or to just build stuff for funsies. This youth would not go on to make an actual Gaia Online account until 2017, having learned that tektek has been long shut down and Gaia had instituted a similar sort of avatar building function on their own website. It's just not the same ):

Elenora came about from playing around with what was available in tektek and making up lore for her and the world around her in my head. By this point in time I was kind of starting to feel The Shame™ around my creative interests and never saved whatever I built of the characters I made for this world and rarely drew them out. I even have a specific memory of tracing over one of those How to Draw Anime books to make Elenora and her sister and then throwing the drawing away in the shitty transparent plastic trashcan I had in my bedroom. However, since I recreated Elenora so many times in tektek I still remember what most of her base items were like a decade and a half later.

In Elenora's world, everybody is born with a specific power which is shown by the color of their eyes, hair, and the magic marks on their body. It was mainly elemental stuff like controlling fire or water or electricity or whatever, but a specific one I remember that wasn't an elemental thing was the ability to communicate with animals and get them to do what you want them to if you were powerful enough. Most people had one power type but it was still possible to be born with two powers, usually manifesting in a separate hair and eye color. The amount of magic marks on someone's body correlates to how much potential power they have, and once in a lifetime there's one person of each power born with all the marks, similar in the concept to the Avatar from AtLA but they're all separate girls that are born at the same time and the ones from the last generation don't die right when the next generation is born.

Elenora was born with full black marks, which gives illusion powers and control over shadows. However, she lives in an authoritarian society where those with black mark powers must be killed. She was born alongside a twin sister in a home birth, and their parents kept Elenora's birth a secret until she was able to use her illusion powers to disguise her marks. Things were all fine and dandy with Elenora honing her powers in secret until one day their house got raided and her sister sacrificed herself, claiming she was the one disguising herself to hide black marks instead. This sets Elenora off on a journey along with the ghost of her sister to find all the other girls with full marks and have adventures and overthrow her kingdom's government or something. One specific adventure plot I remember involved them running into a necromancer doing shit in the graveyard where her twin sister is buried, and her ghost merging with her zombie body brings her back to life. Unfortunately, I don't remember anything about what kind of personality she might have had besides "guilt over dead sister."

Description

A teenage girl with pale skin, pointed ears, black eyes, and black swirling marks on her body. She has long black hair tied back into a single braid, and wispy bangs. She wears a cream colored blouse. She is accompanied by the ghost of her twin sister, who has chin-length silvery-blue hair and red eyes

[paperw0rmz]

Complete guide to Flickr and why you should use it

bc I got some things wrong but it’s still a very good website that we should all use instead of Instagram

1: Flickr isn’t tied to Meta or any of that Facebook bullshit, from my knowledge it doesn’t share your contacts so no one will get a notification that you joined, it’s safer that way and more private than Instagram.

2: It’s built for photos. Instagram kills quality of photos, if you’re an artist, especially a digital one, uploading to Flickr would be way better for people to actually see detail and the color.

Going on with this because it’s built for photos, while it can host video, it doesn’t have TikTok/Reels and lives which is soooo nice. Like I don’t hate that stuff, but I like that Flickr isn’t trying to catch on the latest trends.

3: There isn’t likes. Flickr is mainly for sharing and LOOKING at photos. The most interaction you can get one on one is commenting, following, and favoriting. Favoriting is basically the public saves, no one really faves things on there unless it’s a recipe or for a reference or something.

4: Groups. Flickr does have an option for communities to make groups in where you can share similar interests MOST OF THESE ARE DEAD BUT WE CAN BRING THEM BACK!!! (IM BEGGING)

5: The bios are unlimited ( I think ), I copy and pasted the entire Bee Movie script three times along with my own bio that was already in there. I’m always pissed when I have to trim my bio, so bitches who like to put everything in their bio this website is for YOU

6: It’s in chronological order. Everything. You can even look up when certain posts where made by year, month, even fucking day. The archives of Flickr are so fucking fun.

7: Its not a contest. The main reason as to why I fucking hate Instagram (other than they took away chronological order and being able to see the recents under a tag) is that it focuses too much on “#aesthetic” even on the casual Instagram side people are still posing and trying to make an aesthetic of it. Flickr is just for photos you like, which yes can be aesthetic, but it’s mainly for daily life. You will see older people just posting what they are working on, maybe a cat they saw at the store, nothing planned. Just a quick unprompted click.

8: Organization, Flickr let’s you have Albums which is where you can organize all your photos in much like Pinterest. Most do it by year but others do it by topic too.

9: You can upload photos in bulk. You don’t have to upload them one by one, or at a limit of ten, you can upload a FUCK ton of photos at once.

10: if you don’t like ads and want more storage space, the pro version is extremely cheap compared to Netflix. Netflix without ads is fucking $15.49 and Flickr is $8.25 a month. There are also two other payment plans if that’s still too much for you.

11: It allowed adult content. In like. Every form. Enough said

CONS

1: You can’t DM (this is not a con to me and I hate when people complain about this just fucking use a email it is so fun to email people please for the love of god)

2: You can only upload 1,000 images before you run out of space. (You can always delete images later, I personally like to delete images at new years for a fresh start and archive them somewhere else)

3: it’s dead. No one really uses it.

4: to upload your bio you have to use a desktop version of the app.

THANK YOU FOR READING PLEASE SWITCH TO FLICKR AND SHARE THIS SO WE CAN START TO REVIVE OLD PLATFORMS TO SAVE THEM TO REBEL AGAINST META AND THIS NEW AGE OF CREATING SOCIAL MEDIA APPS AND SHIT

[slytherhys]

could we get Elorcan for I or O? Thank you ❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

A/N: this one was a challenge because I'm pretty sure it's the first time I write canon-compliant Elorcan, but since their dynamic is pretty similar to Elriel I hope I did them justice. Also, I thought of a completely different ending last night but I didn't write it down and now I'm just mad at myself 🥲 I hope you enjoy it tho x

Elorcan - "You bought me hot chocolate?"

Lorcan watched with amusement as Elide tried to stuff yet another gift inside the carriage. He had offered his help, but she had simply sent him a glare that had him backing off without another word (he might’ve stollen a kiss or two, but that was beside the point). She was on a mission, determined to fit everything and herself inside the spacious, yet small, cabin of the carriage. How she’d be comfortable inside with so many things surrounding her was a mystery to Lorcan, but he didn’t dare ask – he liked his head right where it was.

“Is it really necessary to bring all of these with us?” He raised a brow, his arms crossed as he watched Elide struggle with a heavier box. “Can’t we just send some by courier?”

By the lovely scoff Elide let out of her perfect lips, a puff of air forming in front of them, he assumed that was a no. He didn’t exactly see the issue, and he told her just as much.

“The issue, Lorcan, is that I handpicked these gifts myself and I want to see our friends” She sent him a pointed look. “Open them on Yulemas.” She finished, as if no further explanation was needed. That critical glance ought to mean something, but he couldn’t really tell what, exactly, that was.

Lorcan was well acquainted with what Yulemas was – he was over 500 years old, for Hellas sake. But most of his life he had celebrated the holiday with full cups of mulled wine and random company, and he had certainly never traded presents with anyone. Something Elide was clearly too adamant on doing this year – even if their queen was hosting a public ball.

“And how, exactly, will that work? Open the gifts in front of your queen’s people?” He teased, watching as Elide eyed the carriage with a thoughtful expression. “Will it happen before or after the dancing begins?” He asked, but she simply turned to him, a light smirk on her pretty lips.

“Is this your way of telling me you’ll dance with me, Lorcan Lochan?” She said his name with a bit of a flare, making him chuckle darkly as he stepped closer, pulling her into his arms. She could jest all she wanted. He was proud of his name – and to hear it coming from her lips certainly did things to him that begged for more time than what they currently had.

“I’ll save all dancing for when we’re alone, lady.” He smiled, pressing a peck to her lips, making her giggle as she squirmed in his arms.

“You’re a menace.” She laughed, slapping him slightly on the chest as she pulled away, sighing as she eyed the open carriage once more. “Do you think Dorian would mind if I sent his present to Rifthold instead? I’m not sure there’s enough space for everything with it.”

Lorcan eyed the biggest box in the carriage, not sure the new King of Adarlan even needed a gift that large, but he refrained from commenting, instead furrowing his brows as he noticed plenty of space still available. Mainly considering his wife was tiny – something he refrained from commenting as well.

“Are you taking anything else?” He looked at his mate, her pretty pale face tainted pink from the cold. She looked adorable, even if her lips looked a bit blue-ish. He reached for her hand, leading her to the carriage so she could hide herself from the December cold.   

“Well, no, but how will you fit?” She asked as she stepped inside, her head turning so she could look at him. Lorcan frowned.

“What do you mean, how will I fit?” He asked, his eyes easily spotting the stable boy as he approached with Farasha by his side. Lorcan couldn’t help but smile as the mighty horse seemed to refuse following the boy, trying to lead him instead.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you’re quite big-”

“I might remember you saying something along those lines recently, yes.” He teased, loving the way her cheeks darkened.

“And-” She sent him a glare that had him chuckling. “I think I might have miscalculated how much space you’d take, exactly.” She sighed as she ran a critical eye over the boxes.

Lorcan huffed, frowning as he watched his mate try to lift a heavier one. “I won’t take any space at all.”

Elide went still under his eyes, her own narrowing on him. Lorcan didn’t dare more, nor blink as he watched her.

“What do you mean, you won’t take any space at all?” Her voice was deadly quiet and Lorcan wasn’t ashamed to admit he had to look away for a second before having the nerve to look at her again.

“I have Farasha, El.” He said, as gently as possible, hoping it would soothe her.

She smiled at him, but it did little to calm him down. “I know that, but why would you take her to Orynth?”

Lorcan raised a brow. “Because I take her everywhere.” And it was true. Farasha was his trusty sidekick. There was something to be said about having the horse from Hellas by his side at all times. The people of Perranth respected him, but he couldn’t deny the fact he enjoyed the fear in their eyes when he rode with the black beauty.

If he was being forced to see the cadre for the first time in months, why not try to instil the same kind of reaction from them as well?

“Your take her everywhere in Perranth!” She scoffed. “Not to another city – one hours away for that matter.”

Lorcan eyed the stable boy, suddenly not feeling as amused as he saw the horse fight the little man. It appeared to be winning, too. He shrugged. “She can handle it.”

“It’s freezing out, Lorcan!” Elide bellowed. “You can’t possibly believe you’ll be fine on horseback for over 12 hours in this weather.”

Lorcan had to admit he was still adapting to the Terrasen weather – so different from sunny Doranelle – but he barely even felt the cold. The barren, frozen lands bothered him, but the chilly air? Not so much.

“I have gone through worse.”

Elide rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest as she sent him a daring glare. Hellas, he loved her. “What is the real issue here, Lorcan?”

He furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about?”

“Lorcan.” She threatened, her tiny frame shivering. Was she that annoyed?

“I have never been inside a carriage Elide.” He said as neutrally as possible, trying to reason with her.

She frowned, eyes flickering between the cart and him before she dropped her voice to a murmur. “Are you scared of it?”

Lorcan sputtered. “What?”

“Well, you seem-”

He stepped closer, dropping his voice as well as he noticed a few sellers paying entirely too much attention to their conversation. “Elide, I’m bigger than the carriage. Why would I be afraid of it?”

She smiled sweetly. “Good thing you’d go sitting down then.” She said, sitting down on the cushioned bench without a glance back, stubbornly waiting for him to follow.

“Elide.” He tried, but she didn’t move. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for me-”

“Appropriate?” She choked on the word, failing to hide a laugh Lorcan wasn’t entirely sure she wanted hidden. If the wicked smile on her face was any indication, he was sure she had wanted him to hear her make fun of him. He rose an eyebrow, waiting for body to stop shaking with mirth.

“Something funny?” He drawled.

“It’s freezing.” She said matter-of-factly, and he couldn’t help but notice how her teeth clattered slightly, how her face seemed paler than what it was before. She cleared her voice, standing straighter even if her body still shuddered. “You’ll get sick, Lorcan.”

He frowned, watching her attentively. “I can’t even remember the last time I got sick.” He muttered, more to himself than her as he eyed her blue-ish lips again.

“Well, must you reminisce it because of your male pride?” She narrowed her eyes, and Lorcan was sure that if she had the strength for it, she would toss the closest box towards his head.

“That’s not-” He trailed off, realization settling in.

How had he missed it? They had been outside for over 30 minutes loading the carriage and though Lorcan barely felt the cold pierce his skin, he sometimes seemed to forget Elide wasn’t the same. She had, luckily, put on some weight in the last couple of months, but they had only recently started to work through strengthening it. She shouldn’t have been outside for this long, loading a carriage, nonetheless.

“What?” She asked, a bit restless as she grabbed a small blanket to her side, covering her legs with it.

Her blue lips, her red-tinted cheeks, her large coat that she kept trying to cover her body with even though it seemed to do little against the severe cold of the Perranthian winter… Elide was freezing, and he suspected the reason she wanted him inside had more to do with that than her concern over him riding a horse for 12 hours straight.

He eyed the vendors that usually set shop around what would soon be the palace square – if the palace ever ended up being built, that was. There were a few tents already open for business, selling trinkets and imported goods, vegetables, and fruit – but he focused on a smaller one to the side, steam coming from the few cauldrons boiling behind an old lady that was wrapped in a big shawl.

He was walking before he even realise it.

“Lorcan,” Elide called, but he was already storming off, his heart racing with the need to see her well. He huffed, refusing to feel embarrassed as he approached the wide-eyed seller, her entire complexion red – from the cold or the fact he had heard their fight, he couldn’t say.

“Can I get one of those?” He mumbled, nodding towards the closest iron cauldron. It smelled sickly sweet, but he had a feeling Elide would like it. The lady nodded frantically, grabbing a small clay cup before grabbing the ladle. “Bigger.” He simply said, making her drop the cup to her feet. Lorcan couldn’t bring himself to care, not as he watched the wooden carriage and cursed himself over not seeing the signs earlier.

Was she so stubborn she would rather freeze to death than simply ask him for his company?And why hadn’t he helped her? He sometimes forgot their bodies weren’t exactly the same – that where he had strength and endurance, she had will and stubbornness. His fae body barely let him feel the cold scratching his skin and yet Elide couldn’t help shivering when they stood outside for too long.

And it had been too long.

Lorcan thanked the seller, giving her a gold coin as he made his way to the stable boy who still struggled with the iron-willed horse.

“Lord Lochan, I-“

“Farasha won’t be joining us in our trip to Orynth,” He simply said, hiding the smirk that threatened to break free at the look of pure relief on the boy’s face. He must be new then, if he didn’t know how much harder it was to take Farasha back into the stables. “You can take her back.” He said, petting the horse with his free hand before resuming his path to Elide.

He momentarily wondered if she would throw the boiling liquid into his face, but quickly let the thought go as he saw her nearly trip on her own two feet as she jumped from the carriage to the ground, her brown, determined eyes locking on him with a fury that amused him more than scared him. And it scared him quite a bit if he was being honest.

He fought the urge to growl at seeing her outside again.

“Changed your mind?” His beautifully stubborn mate asked as he stepped closer, her eyes quickly dropping to his hand, where the liquid steamed against the cold air. Her mouth parted slightly, her eyes flickering between his hand and his eyes. “Is that-”

“Get back inside.” He nearly snarled, making her eyes widen in surprise before she glared at him. Much to his chagrin, she completely ignored him, staring at him with an unimpressed look instead. He handed her the cup, but she simply narrowed her eyes, as if not trusting his offering.

“You’re shivering.” He simply stated, nodding towards the cup once again. But Elide merely stared at it, as if not entirely sure what to do with it. Hellas, maybe he should’ve grabbed some soup instead? There was-

“You bought me hot chocolate.” She simply said, her brown eyes finding his once again.

Lorcan frowned. “Do you not like it?”

She shook her head, as if clearing her own thoughts before wrapping her hands around the cup. “No, I love it.” She smiled softly, and Lorcan felt himself relax the pleased tone in her sweet voice. “You can be a big softy when you want to, Lorcan Lochan.”

Lorcan grunted, not entirely comfortable with how his face seemed to heat under the weight of her appreciation. “Just get inside.” He muttered, holding out his hand to help her up, but she looked around instead. Lorcan stifled a sigh – wasn’t she cold?

“Where’s Fashara?” She furrowed her brows, ignoring his hand and his command.

Lorcan thought about putting Elide inside the carriage himself, but he doubted that would make things better. “At the stables.”

“So…” She trailed off and Lorcan shook his head, entirely too amused at her hopeful expression.

“Just get inside, El.” He sighed, warmth spreading through his body at the smile blooming in her lips. She held his hand, climbing up, her other hand still wrapped around the liquid chocolate.

He grabbed two gifts as she sat down – and if they were tagged for the Queen and King of Terrasen it would’ve been purely coincidental – handing them to a servant and sat down next to his mate. And as Elide snuggled against his body, her free hand reaching for his, the thought of being inside this walking torture device for over 12 hours turned much more appealing.

Sure, he wouldn’t show their cadre his horse and sure they would probably make fun of him for arriving in a carriage, but suddenly none of it really mattered. Not when his mate was cold, not when he was the only one who could possibly warm her up.

And as the carriage lurched forward, Lorcan eyed Elide – and if a small smirk painted her lips as she took another sip of the liquid chocolate, he was sure that was coincidental as well.

[wayfarers-ger]

Wayfarers' Ger in 2024

I'm going to make an effort to actually make use of this Tumblr. \o/

What Is Wayfarers' Ger?

It started out as a weekly storytelling RP event with a steppe theme ICly set in a ger/yurt on the Azim steppe, then we started adding bigger events every so often, like our summer event "Steppes on the Beach", but as altaholics, we've also tied in some of our other projects like The Approving Seal and The Ankhai Tribe.

I am an enthusiast of steppe culture & really want to bring some appreciation for the real-world steppe cultures and base a lot of my RP around its culture. I am far from an expert & I take some artistic license like the devs did because it's Mongolia-influenced, not a re-creation.

What's The Plan?

More events in 2024, starting with Tsagaan Sar, the new year. More use of the Approving Seal and the Ankhai Tribe.

I also want to make better use of social media (like Tumblr here), the wider community and our website.

Plans for the Approving Seal

The Approving Seal is a Terncliff-themed cafe & charity and we just did our Starlight event with it. With the Approving Seal, we like to try and offer a more wholesome kind of RP and this year we want to use it for actual charity fundraisers for real-world charities.

We have a charity page set up for it for people to give their own donations to our selected charity (we'll have separate pages if we do a fundraiser for a different charity): https://www.justgiving.com/page/approving-seal

Plans for Wayfarers' Ger

On the Wayfarers' Ger side, I want to lean more & more heavily into the culture stuff, this seems to be the stuff people respond best to, which I am happy for because it's the part I care most about & want to dive deeper with.

As much as I would like to keep a fortnightly RP, we do find they get a variable turn out and I have mused on it & I know we've tried getting them working again, like in the early days, but my energy may be better placed in themed events with more attention to quality.

And I have a few ideas I am toying with for things we could do, including opening the floor for more people to get involved with contributing, because I realise I can sometimes do things on a bit of a whim.

Plans for General Steppe Stuff

I also found some of my "The Real Steppe" blog posts get some popularity and even got a mention in Mirkes Menagerie for my comments about magic on the steppe. So I want to put out more things like it & share them with the Wayfarers' Ger & general Steppe RP community. And I want to go back & spot-check my old blog posts to make sure they're to a standard I am happy with & that I triple-check any facts.

The motivation for triple-checking is that I have learned that not all sources on Mongolian culture are reliable. For example: UNSECO has information about tuulis and the practice but the information confuses different types of Mongolian storytelling & other sources seem to give similar info & frame it in totally the wrong way. And I have better sources who don't mind me asking questions.

Plans for the Ankhai Tribe

The Ankhai tribe is a custom tribe inspired by Tuvans, Mongolians and Siberians, who come from north of the tail mountains and the Dalvalan Grath. Like with how FFXIV approaches cultures, there is still artistic license, so not all ideas/customs are grounded in the real world, but include FFXIV-appropriate flair, to keep it within the realms of fantasy.

We spent some time introducing some of the characters into the general community & ran individual RP's & events to establish IC connections and working through the story arc that allows us to open up the tribe to more people to create their own characters. For 2024, I want to do smaller RP's & events where the tribe is a focus, with room to recruit people into the concept.

Closing Note

I realise I made it a long post. But the new year brings new opportunities and I am still passionate about the RP's we run and want to not neglect things I've started and instead not only keep doing what we do, but aim for something cooler. Plus, with my focus on visiting Mongolian in 2025, learning the language and spending time in groups relating to Mongolia, it's traditions & culture, I hope to work with you all to create greater RP experiences this year and clear out the crickets & cobwebs from both our Tumblr & Discord.

If I don't keep up my promise, hunt me down and slap me.

Peace and love,

Yesunova Hotgo and many, many alts

[youraveragedeltafan]

Idea: Crossover/AU where Chloe Bourgeois gets on the Infinity Train and joins the Apex

Idk how niche this is, but I just had a thought once a little bit of my old and slightly older brainrots came back to haunt me: Chloe Bourgeois and Infinity Train, more specifically book 3. Since I have been grasping at creative straws for 2 months, here are a few bullet points/ideas that I may work with later. Big maybe, this newfound motivation might die tomorrow lol. Either way, hope you few people who find this interesting enjoy!

Also mlb season 5 spoilers I think? I dunno I just kind of read episode summaries now I have no idea what season we're on.

Imagine if at 15, Chloe Bourgeois unknowingly escapes to the train right before she was forced to live with her mother, but instead of going on a journey of self discovery, she has the 'fortune' in bumping into the Apex instead.

(oh also while all of this is very found family like, I acknowledge that under the surface these are still three flawed extremely traumatized kids feeding into each others problems and creating/building a cult that kills denizens/destroys cars, like that's all still happening in the background of this LMAO)

When the crying teenager is brought into the mall by the few younger members of the group, it's more of the same for Grace and Simon, and the normal Apex welcomes begin.

Nobody really realizes or cares who Chloe is, due to their ages when boarding the train. It would bother her on a normal day, but given everything that has happened prior to boarding, it kind of sends her spiraling into more crying/anger.

While Simon is in no mood for it, Grace goes into full damage control mode, comforting and leaving her alone in one of the nicer areas of the mall car so she can fully calm down.

Simon is annoyed by it, but Grace plays it off as playing the long game so to speak in order to get Chloe to join. It's a half truth, as she feels empathy for Chloe after hearing a small bit of the events leading to the train picking her up. (mainly that someone left her, bringing up memories of Grace's first time meeting Simon)

Speaking of empathy, this is dialed up to an eleven when Grace gets to know her better, and finds out about her kind of similar living situation (neglectful parents) and her history of friends/conflict at school (she doesn't really go into the whole superhero thing because she feels like it would take attention off her. Besides, they don't seem to know or care much about what's going on outside anyway)

Now friends, Grace decides to take Chloe to her first car raid with just her and Simon. Chloe goes along with it to both get her anger out on something and impress her new friend. I'd expect they'd hit an 'easy' car first, like the cube car from Book 2.

Simon is now annoyed and jealous now that Grace is giving more of her attention to someone else, but after the car is thoroughly destroyed Chloe gives more information on how she got onto the train. As soon as she mentions being essentially abandoned and replaced by her father, he empathizes with her immediately and actually gets pissed off for her as well (Brought to you by Samantha fueled abandonment issues). They bond over the trash talking of her dad, and they become official friends soon after.

With Chloe fully on their side (and their friendship growing fast), they finally decide to tell her about what the Apex is all about. Full theatrics, conductor and everything.

Knowing the crazy stuff that happened in Paris on a daily basis (which is only reaffirmed by the train), she doesn't doubt the existence of the Conductor, but has reservations about his godlike status among the group ("Are you serious? That thing is probably just a glorified sentimonster!"). However, she keeps these to herself, as she deep down, she doesn't want them to abandon her.

What she lacks in 'belief', she makes up for in fierce loyalty. The only thing Chloe has to her name now is her found family The Apex, and she's not just gonna lose that, no matter how many nulls have to pay. Besides, just because she doesn't believe in the Conductor's power, doesn't mean that she isn't greatly invested in beating the train...

(Oh also, a little bonus. Depending on if the headcanon/theory is true, I'd imagine Simon and Chloe would speak to each other in French on occasion to mess with Grace.)

[atherix]

New story? 👀👀

-🍂

mm 👀 So spoilers under the cut for the album, but the album that has given me these brainworms is a rock opera concept album called Broken Bride, consisting of 5 songs that tell a story. Each song is in a different style. **A bit of a warning, the album does contain religious imagery (the endtimes, not redemption or salvation or damnation) as well as descriptions of mild gore and suicide.**

Broken Bride from Ludo shares a similar story to The Time Machine film, where the plot is driven by the death of the protagonist's partner (thus the Broken Bride).

I want you to know I started rambling IN DETAIL about each individual song holy shit I stopped myself and started over because I was getting. Way too into it.

So the story is the protagonist is driven by obsession for fifteen years to try and save his wife who died in a car accident, by going back in time and keeping her from getting out of the bed that morning. It turns out time machines are hard to control and he ends up propelled back to the age of the dinosaurs, where he's driven into a cave by pterodactyls. It cuts to the far distant future at the endtimes, with a conversation between a young boy and the mayor of a city. The mayor states there's nothing he can do about the families suffering outside, denounces god (real smart move at the endtimes huh) and praises their king before shooting himself in front of this kid. The boy has seen some shit by now so just steps up and rallies the people not to just pray for saving, but to fight. Back to the past, the protagonist reminisces on the days he and his wife spent together, and how after she died no one could help him or convince him to move on, and he reaffirms that he will save her. He makes a run through the swarm of pterodactyls and gets to the machine, only for the machine to malfunction and send him- you guessed it- to the endtimes. He witnesses firsthand what is happening here, learns about the king who is fighting against god. The dragon of the endtimes rises and the protagonist is watching so many people die, and in that moment he realizes he can't change what has already happened but he can change what could happen. He sacrifices his time machine, saying "I've got dragons of my own," indicating he brings the fucking swarm of pterodactyls to the future to fight the dragon, the machine blows up and kills him but the endtimes are stopped with the fall of the dragon. He is confronted by god or angels, not sure which, who praise his sacrifice but notice despite saving them, he's still suffering. He requests one more day with his late wife, just long enough to say goodbye as he's realized he can't save her. They grant this and he goes back to his home the morning she died. Instead of trying to keep her home, knowing he can't change what happened, he gets in the car with her. The accident still happens, only this time he's with her. (I assume for paradoxical purposes that this had no bearing on reality and he was only there in spirit, since he was already dead? Idk lol)

So. The story in my head that this album has shoved there- obviously we’re replacing all the religious stuff with Minecraft stuff, I’ll probably use my Pantheons stuff and the Ender Dragon. So yeah.

Just a warning- this contains Major Character Death as well as canon characters in antagonistic roles.

So obviously Mumbo would be the inventor. He and Grian, an Avian ofc because I’m me, have known each other for a long time, and been together from nearly the beginning- think “as soon as they were old enough to date.” Like highschool sweethearts, maybe even middle school sweethearts. They were the It Couple, deeply loyal to one another. It was not necessarily a healthy relationship, the depths of their devotion to each other, but they were happy and they took care of each other.

One day there’s a tragic accident in which Grian unfortunately does not survive, which naturally drives Mumbo to the brink of madness. He dedicates himself to building a time machine to try and stop the accident, and he successfully builds one after years and years of trying only to end up stranded throughout time- he meets new and interesting people in different time periods he gets thrown into, and maybe has a little run in with a Wither and maybe even a Warden along the way. Ancient Cities in flesh and blood, long-dead kings and queens- he sees it all. 

Until one of the time periods he gets thrown into is the far future, where the Ender Dragon is destroying everything and the world is under siege of the undead. Everything has gone wrong- think Blood Moon in RLCraft, only all the time. He meets Scar, an Elf who works for the King (Ren) to try and fight the Ender Dragon and save their world. Mumbo is separated from his time machine by Ren, who is going a bit mad now and is slipping, and Mumbo’s trapped for months in this apocalypse under Scar’s watch. The two of them bond over this time, and Mumbo learns more about what happened; the end of the world started when Scar was a child, he’s lived his entire life under siege of the dead and the dragon. He became involved with the king’s court when he was barely a teen, when he stopped asking for help and started helping others instead, fighting off the hordes of undead and trying to save as many people as possible. He is now one of the most respected warriors, though he wants nothing more than to be able to put down his bow and just create. 

Of course, there’s undertones of Redscape during this time but Mumbo is still deeply devoted to the long-dead Grian and can’t bring himself to move on. Scar, after Ren goes off the deep end and starts supporting the End, breaks Mumbo out of the castle and gets him back to where the time machine is hidden away, telling him to go back home and live his life in peace, thousands and thousands of years before the End Dragon breaches the unprepared Overworld.

Mumbo has started to realize by now that he can’t rewrite the past, as it’s what makes up his present- who, what and where he is now. These are all things that are going to happen, no matter what he does; it’s already witnessed and already written. What isn’t set in stone is how this war ends, as it has not been witnessed or written yet. So, knowing now that he can neither save Grian nor live happily without him... he makes a choice.

And that’s all I’m going to say :) I won’t say it’ll have a sad ending but it is a very bittersweet one. It’s not a 1:1 with the song but I don’t want to say what it would be hjghjjk

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Also had a new AU idea similar to the one where the manager sends Roxy to Sewerhell to bring back an animatronic for him after she successfully gets the Minis out of there herself.

The Plex is struggling financially. It's popularity has been slowly sinking for a while now, and if things don't change soon, the CEOs are gonna start throwing their weight around here again. No one wants another heavily sanitised, corporate event, and their last big idea was the fucking Storyteller. The manager needs to turn the place around, and fast if he wants to avoid more of that shit... But he's got no investment money and very few ideas.

So, instead of just making a deal with Roxy to go get an animatronic from Sewerhell, he decides to try something new. Something with more reach...

He gives each animatronic a job to do. They each have to help with improving the Pizzaplex now and drawing in more customers. This includes things like coming up with and adding new activities to do, modifying the current activities, updated food recipes, merch ideas, and the return of older animatronics. Remodelling of attractions can happen, but only if it's incredibly cheap, and all of these ideas must be approved before they can be implemented by the manager to make sure they're not all up to shit.

They have to work together to do things, especially if it involves older stuff. That's were Roxy comes in. It's her job to make these changes possible with whatever shit they've got lying around. Unless she wants to let the Raceway and Salon open, she's gonna have to create a new draw for herself and the Plex, or be heavily involved in helping the others draw people in. So now Roxy's expected to run around in the old discontinued areas looking for shit they can use, going on more trips to Sewerhell to salvage animatronics, and somehow come up with something for her to do without opening the Raceway and Salon.

I was thinking she could spend her nights trying to figure out the horsies she found with only the instruction of Foxy's bird Barney, and the horsies themselves to guide her. She could also do the old idea and go grab Mangle and do all of that stuff, but she could also show up with any old shit and see if it sticks. Older animatronic gimmicks and stuff are up for grabs here so she can switch to anything really, but she's also having to run around helping everyone else... Which she really doesn't want to be doing for a multitude of reasons.

So it's basically the same AU but with the others being more involved and Roxy feeling like she's got more to prove.

[semi-imaginary-place]

ffxiv more job quests

carpenter quests were nice. i love beatin. i do wonder if catgirl would ahve been better off as a culinarian she seemed happier with food.

bsm: wow this dude is harsh to his daughter, ouch.

well brithanel's wife did cheat on him and run off with a sailor sooo i guess he's single...?

wow that was a fast turn around. dude went from you will never be a sword smith to maybe ok in 1 quest

arm: hmm these crafting quests so far have all told the same story but none have done it poorly. im skeptical about crafting an entire suit of armor in a day, but whatever its a story

gsm: so nanamo is getting her artisan school after all. hmm would not the crown whole be worth more than just the jewels pulled out?

good good the ananta are involved i was hoping they would be since its established that they are master goldworkers. i think what also could have been done is that instead of just training smiths from scratch they could have created a guild by recruiting those with existing goldsmithing skills and gathering them together, like those who were goldsmiths but whose work had been disrupted by the war.

also odd we're setting up the artisan school in the military camp instead of inside the city but well im doing this post 4.0 the writers had to make these quests available for any point in stormblood and there isn't a model for inside of ala mhigo.

ltw: good intentions, but showing people all the cool animal products probably will make people want to buy more of them.

wvr: aw they changed redolent rose's character. where's my little weaver weirdo?

while kotocho isn't wrong to experiment with fashion i do think she's getting a little carried away.

so is it doman or is it hingan? in the quest npc dialogue its refered to as strictly doman multiple times (2? 3?) but the item text says hingan.

interesting that the dance entered the hingan repertoire long ago enough that geiko consider it traditional and not foreign.

weaver is my favorite crafting questline so far

alc: wow this dude was up to everything. embezzlement AND necromancy

WOAH WOAH WOAH wasnt there an entire 1.0 plotline about f'lhaminn trying to bring this dude back???

yeah i remember the 1.0 players talking about this story. if this happened a little over 6 years ago minfilia would have been in her early 20s i think she would have been ok.

ok damn we're going to drug the old man and then interrogate him.

conspiracies, rival factions, riots in the streets, i love this stuff! the new ffxiv hasn't had more

huh what i though the whole thing with undead was that their souls/aether was already gone and the body is an empty shell.

the bodies just flat out disappear???

cul: ah a blood purist...

btn: what no. given its high latitude and high moisture it should have far LESS sunlight than most regions kind of similar to west/north europe in that way. think germany for example not a sunny country.

popotos form east end?? isn't it semi arid over there. the opposite of idyllshire.

so you decided to grow them further north in the mountains where it is even colder than the tropical islands where they were already struggling with cold.

why the hell can you harvest cotton from underwater kelp.

really a pest warding flower in ala ghiri, not ala ghanna you know the town surrounded by flowers

[snowflakeanimelover]

Hi! Can you do a Yandere Elijah Mikaelson fic similar to pulling heartstrings? I love your work btw! It always cheers me up ❤️

Ahh thank you!! <3 I am so happy to know it makes someone smile :) I’m actually pretty proud of Pulling Heartstrings. Definitely a favorite. Still amazed people asked for a part 2 lol. Elijah does deserve some love tho.

Relationship: Elijah Mikaelson x Female Reader

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries, The Originals

Warnings: YANDERE, creepy, stalking, kidnapping, mind manipulation, Elijah is nice, he’s also a little OOC…sorry 0-0

DISCLAIMER: I usually write yandere stuff with a not so happy ending unless specified otherwise by the requester. If there is anything triggering that's in the warnings, then please do not read for your own safety and comfort. 

— — — —

Beating Hearts

You were the pawn of the queen and king in a chess game. It was obvious to you and all of your friends. Although you cared for them deeply, since they were the only close friends and family you had since childhood, the realization of how things changed tore deep into your heart. Ever since Elena, one of your best friends, met an over one-hundred year old vampire things have certainly changed.

All of your lives were tied around supernatural fingers. There wasn’t a day where you didn’t talk about the original vampires, the werewolves, and any witches who weren’t on our side. There wasn’t a day where you could relax. 

As if you’ve never asked for something to come up and keep you on your toes instead of being so bored in your life as a teenager. This was something you didn’t really ask for. And it just so happened that your life seemed to get worse. Elijah was on your side, for the most part, when first meeting him. He wanted to take his own brother down and make sure his curse wasn’t broken. In this case, keeping Elena alive. 

Elijah was a kind man to you. To all humans in the group, technically. Which only seemed to be you and Elena. There were times where Elijah was welcomed into our home so he, Elena, and Alaric could talk business. You always seemed to be at the wrong place and wrong time, making you awkwardly sit in the corner of the room while they did what they had to do. And when Elena gets an interrupted phone call by none other than her boyfriend, it leaves the room to just you and the original. 

A brief talk is all it was. Him making you smile, and you making him smile. It left as quickly as it came with Elena bringing usual bad news. The group left, insisting you stayed. Even Elijah was sure to agree with Elena on that idea. 

You took the rest of your time and days minding your own business, clearly noticing how they didn’t want you involved. You figured you’d cope with your loneliness somehow or another, but a simple piece of paper changed your mind. 

You didn’t see the group much during the weeks. But you didn’t have to in order to get a smile on your face every day. Elijah was leaving letters for you in your room. It started off as apologizing for not greeting you and asking how your day was. You must say that your heart was beating a little faster every time you saw a note hidden somewhere in your room. 

Notes soon turned into almost daily visits. Sometimes you went out in town with him, and other times you sat in your home sipping tea. It was all fun and admirable to you until he said he will be getting a bit more busy. Those smiles you had every day because of him have left when you couldn’t see him at all. It was only three days of no Elijah, and yet that seemed to make his promise of protecting you break into tiny little pieces. 

“Hello, Love.” Klaus greeted, his sharp eyes staring right into your soul. You tried to shut the door on him, aware of the warning Elijah has given you about his own brother. To your surprise, he stopped the door from shutting with a simple hard held grip on it, pushing it back open. He clicked his tongue in disappointment. “Now, now, sweetheart. It’s rude to shut doors onto your guests.”

“H-how can you get in…? I didn’t invite you in.” Your voice was a whisper, too scared to set off the big bad wolf’s timer.

He chuckled, a deep rumbling that made your spine shiver. “I’m afraid you don’t own the house anymore, love. Now, I suggest you cooperate or things will get messy.” He takes one step forward before falling to the ground with a loud snap echoing in the house. Elijah stood over Klaus, his hands smoothing out his nice suit.

He looked up at you as he quickly got closer. His big hand envelops your own. You were too shocked to do anything at the moment. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you? I don’t smell any blood on you.” He looks all over you. You could see the fear in his eyes.

“What…what just happened?” You ask him.

He doesn’t answer, wrapping his arm around your waist to guide you out of your own house. “Come. I’ll take you to a safe place.”

— — —

The more you stayed in the cabin, the more your brain started to scramble and cook. It has been about a week since Elijah brought you to a secluded cabin in a forest. You never thought to leave as his words were very clear that leaving would bring you doom. But now…now you were getting suspicious. 

“You said I could leave when it’s safe and it’s been over a week.” You start just after a few minutes of the handsome man arriving. 

“And I keep my word.”

“So?” You stand up, anger rising in your system. “Is it safe?”

His body was tense, straightening up at your threatening stance. You knew full well he was much stronger than you, but you had every right to fight for your freedom. It has been suspicious to you for him to not let you leave. 

He lets out a heavy sigh. “It isn’t, I’m afraid. My brother still wreaks havoc in town.”

Your blood boils, remembering specifically what he said just a few days prior. “You're lying.”

“Pardon?” He was getting defensive now. 

“You’re lying! I heard you on the phone two days ago! You said Klaus left town. Why are you keeping me here?!”

His eyes got dark by your words. “I assure you, it’s still quite dangerous with his hybrids around.”

“I…I don’t understand. I thought he only wanted me to be a hostage to get Elena. If this whole ritual thing is done, then he won’t need me anymore.” You try to piece together the information you were able to grab. “I’m leaving.” You suddenly say.

The wood under your feet creaked as you walked to the front door, opening it to step out. “I’m tired of you lying to me. I thought we were friends-” You mumble to yourself but was cut short to some kind of invisible wall blocking you in. You remember this very well. Bonnie telling you all about her spells, and one in particular can lock people inside rooms or certain areas.

You turn around to ask the man himself why there was such a spell, but he was right before your eyes. His fingers gently glide over your cheek as he looks down at you. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice so shortly.” He was almost cooing, his voice so gentle it could make you fall asleep. “But I’m afraid I can’t let you leave.”

“Wh-why…?” You wanted to cry. You were so confused by everything that’s been going on. Making a friend who has apparently kidnapped you and doesn’t seem to want to let you go.

“Because I love you too much. You can get hurt in that god forsaken town.” He says the last sentence bitterly. “Your friends… they don’t seem to care for you as much as I do.”

Deep down, you knew he was right. But you still had the heart to try and escape. To live freely once more and see your friends and family once more. Although they haven’t been the best of friends, you know they still care for you.

“You are a strong woman.” He comments, now using both of his hands to caress your face. “Which leads me to do something I never thought I’d do.” 

As soon as his eyes bore into yours, you knew exactly what he was going to do. You struggled in his grasp, trying to get away before he could do anything. “P-please…! Stop!”

“I’ll protect you with my life. I won’t let you go.“ He starts. 

Your body seemed to have relaxed beyond your control. “You’ll protect me…” You mumble, repeating his words without any thought.

“Stay by my side…forever.” 

“I’ll…stay by your side…” You smile gently, bringing your hand up to caress his cheek. “Forever.”

[phoenixyfriend]

When Obi-Wan gets to AotC, there's also about two dozen Anakin clones on-site. They're all girls because... IDK Anakin is trans. They have a hive mind and are developmentally a few years younger than Anakin himself.

It's incredibly unsettling to Obi-Wan.

It's almost definitely a "fuck with Anakin's already fragile mental health" ploy by Palpatine, along with a "what if Jedi Black Widows, for me, a Sith Lord. Wouldn't that be neat? That would be neat."

Anakin is torn between "this freaks me out" and "GANG OF BABY SISTERS LET'S GOOOOOOO."

(I just finished reading Like Real People Do by glimmerglanger, so this is definitely inspired by that and the obligatory 'lay back in bed and daydream variations on plot points of that fic you just really enjoyed,' and also a little by Same Heart, Same Blood by loosingletters.)

They're physically like 14-16 on average, and Anakin's vibrating out of his skin with a million conflicting emotions, but when he tells Padme she's just like "oh, you have a handmaiden gang!"

I told this to @willowcrowned and she suggested:

Once Anakin decides to repress the part of him that’s weirded out and just regard them as baby sisters he gets. A little strange about it The first time one of them dies he may or may not slaughter every person he can [in response to Padme's comment] Anakin starts worrying that he needs to get them cool matching outfits

I also chatted about it with @firebirdeternal and they said:

Gang of Unsettling Smol Siblings is exactly the Karma that Anakin deserves

Do you think the Clones have a kind of Collective Name that they use at first that eventually just kind of morphs into a new last name? Skysisters or something? Like Palpatine was trying to be clever and name them like the Nightsisters.

I initially went with "functionally one person" hive-mind but I'm torn.

I think maybe they're BASICALLY one person on Kamino but drift into Separate Consciousness once they're far enough apart physically that their minds don't blend from proximity anymore.

Then they start Dating (like half of them are dating Fett clones because they grew up with these dudes, it's like childhood friends romance), and Anakin loses his mind about Protecting Them and They're Too Young.

Padme: You're nineteen and we just got married, they can date. Anakin: THEY'RE EIGHT. Padme: And the Fett clones are ten and dying for us in the field. Get them rights before you panic about their love lives.

Firebird:

it could be worse, one of them could imprint on Obi-Wan. "Anakin I promise I won't yell at you for the next five stupid things you do if you can figure out a way to stop this baby from having a crush on me" (I like the idea of Obi-wan bargaining not with "I won't be mad at you ever" because they Both Know That's Not True, and instead haggling with specific allowances. Like he's handing out Stupidity Coupons)

Please imagine Mace and Obi-Wan's personal responses to the idea of suddenly having to deal with not one, not two, but OVER TWENTY SKYWALKERS.

Plo is delighted to take one off their hands.

So is Yoda.

Willow:

Mace is like. okay suicide isn’t the Jedi way but on the other hand. i physically cannot deal with this Yoda: a skywalker, you say? one who is tall enough to reach the top shelf, you say? such a skywalker, bring me

Anakin would be given at least one because fuck you, suffer with us, but he's still a padawan so Ugh, fine, no.

I want to say one stays on Coruscant to hang out with the Guard, and ends up half-adopted by Padme. She keeps dressing up the Aniclone left with her in handmaiden outfits and sending selfies to Anakin.

"Hanging out with the little SiL!"

Anakin has so many issues about WHEN his genetic material was acquired.

And there's some confusion from the Fett clones about how much of a hive mind is normal for Jedi. They are confused that the answer is basically none, and "this is WHY nobody clones a Jedi"

ONE OF THEM STEALS BOBA FROM THE ARENA ON GEONOSIS.

Firebird:

"I have followed in our progenitor's footsteps and acquired a sibling." holds up a struggling Boba "He bites."

Willow:

Ooooo okay so if they have a sort of hive mind then they probably don’t have names other than their designations on Kamino right BUT When they SEPARATE The one that picks Boba up on Geonosis gets a name specifically for that. Okay what if the one Padmé picks up gets some variant on ‘pretty’ because she’s always being dressed up BELLE Maybe Yoda’s Ani has a name that means thief? Because obviously Yoda is using Anakin to steal sweets

So, to make the timeline work...

I don't think anyone would give Anakin one of his sisters until after he's knighted at least.

So obviously when they're doing initial placements none of the sisters go to him or Obi-Wan.

Once he's knighted, of course they're already all placed with someone, and Anakin instead gets Ahsoka. He loves Ahsoka. She is also a little sister. He said so.

At some point afterwards, one of the sisters is left without a place because the Master that was in charge of her died in the field battle.

That sister then gets placed with Obi-Wan, because he's already mostly-successfully raised one Skywalker, so he can do it again.

Anakin gets to hang out with her basically all the time.

Ahsoka is very very jealous of this girl stealing Anakin's attention.

Anakin is oblivious to the rivalry.

He asks Barriss to look after them while he's discussing Adult War Things with Luminara and Obi-Wan, and Barriss gets an eye into This Mess, which is quickly colored by Ahsoka growing a puppy crush on the lovely Miss Offee herself.

Firebird:

Ahsoka: Ah yes, my nemesis. Anisister: Ah yes, my new older sister whom I want to impress so bad.

"I will impress her by being Stoic and Competent" "Oh my god she must think she's so much better than me what a bitch"

Anakin is oblivious to most things to be fair Anakin: Laser focused precision fighting machine who can read the tiniest body movements and predict your moves seconds in advance, who also cannot understand even the most basic social nuance. I was originally writing this as to Dunk on Anakin but then I made myself sad, because none of those things are really his fault.

So you know that post about like, Sasuke and Brooding, specifically in the context of "Brooding" as it's used to refer to Nesting Chickens? Grouchy and protective and sitting on a tennis ball trying to hatch it because they're just. "These are my Babies." Anakin Broods. Baby sisters. Must protecc. "I'm actually fine and extremely deadly in combat." "MUST PROTECT."

Bad Guy: [catches Ahsoka in a Trap] Aniclone: Must rescue sister! Aniclone: [fights, is not winning fight, gets ouched] Ahsoka tearing her way out of Trap: I lived bitch. Also: stay the fuck away from her. [murders so hard]

Ahsoka catches the Protective Older Sib feels by the traditional method: "Hey, only I'm allowed to be mean to them."

Willow:

Oh Anakin has no clue what’s going on. He walks in on Ahsoka glaring at the Ani and is like!!! Little sisters!!! Bonding!!! When Ahsoka was about three seconds away from tossing her out of the airlock. Ahsoka mistakenly assumes that Barriss has a crush on the Ani, and gets even MORE jealous.

Obi-Wan is like oh god. I can’t take care of an Anakin going through puberty again. He’s great with periods and other stuff because he read about a billion books. He is TERRIBLE with everything else, as he was the first time.

Barriss is like???? YOU'RE BOTH CHILDREN, PLEASE CALM DOWN, I HAVE ZERO INTEREST IN DATING ANYONE, LET ALONE SOMEONE YOUR AGE.

IDK how old Obi-Wan's Aniclone is, probably physically the same age as Ahsoka?

Per @atagotiak on discord:

Also something something, similarities btw Anakin and Obi-Wan where like. "Am I a parent? That seems uncomfortable, I'm too young to be a dad to a kid this age, I mean I'm cool with being a mentor/caretaker but..."

Obi-Wan can't even sidestep parenthood this time.

"Is Anakin basically your dad?" "Uhhhhhh" [Muffled discussion] "So Obi-Wan is your dad." "Okay!" "WAIT NO I DIDN'T AGREE TO THIS"

Ahsoka: She's stealing my brother, that BITCH. Obi-Wan's Aniclone: new sister new sister new sister gotta make a good impression

Firebird:

I feel like the Sister Squad would make very effective interstellar espionage agents Even like, kind of by accident. They just get encouraged to branch out in their interests and figure out what they want to do with their lives and end up all over the dang place, and since they're all pretty dang competent they tend to gravitate towards Important Positions wherever they end up. Except for one sister who just retires to raise Space Sheep.

I like that in this AU Palpatine is just like "I will create an army of Loyal Murderers who will obey my every whim and also be a big psychological lever on my Other Pet Murderer," and then they all just Baby Duckling imprint on the first Jedi to be nice to them instead and he has to just be like "Wait no not like that."

AND one of them Steals Boba

I want Obi-Wan's Aniclone to start dating Fives. All the sisters judge her for it, because he's a Goof. A very competent, ARC Trooper goof! But a goof.

Not as goofy as Anakin, though.

Firebird:

Who expects a clone of Anakin Skywalker to not make questionable lifelong romantic choices impulsively?

[shurisneakers]

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically.  “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up. 

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.”  He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

[jade-parcels]

Can I please have some domestic fluff with Azhdaha and Osial 👉🏻👈🏻. Would they be cuddly? Cook? Would they be touch-starved 😉

Of course you can!!! In a world where Azhdaha and Osial were let out of their sealed caverns in order to sign a ‘I will protect Liyue in exchange for my freedom’ contract with Morax….

This was so fun! I wanna write more for them now…hehe..

Osial:

He tends to see himself as better than mortals, he’s proper and somewhat high strung. He was locked away in an era far different than this, so when he arrives in Liyue harbor for the first time in centuries, he’s surprised by everything. The things people eat, their religion, their storytellers…Hell, the dialect is even different (time for Zhongli to tutor his old friends so they don’t sound insane while trying to have a convo with regular folks lol)

He speaks very proper, similar to Zhongli, but he sounds very old fashioned. That is, when he does talk. Osial is quiet, he prefers to listen rather than speak

So when he meets you, his old fashioned tendencies leap out as he tries to court you with handmade gifts like necklaces or glazed pottery. Osial is very skilled with his hands! Back in his day, he’d adorn himself with all sorts of jewelry and headdresses he made himself

He can be very hands on too, before you’re ever on an established relationship he’ll link your arms as you walk down to the harbor or wrap an arm around your waist. Internally, you’ll probably think ‘oh man, we aren’t even together and he’s already this touchy…’ but in reality, that’s just how he is. He links arms with all of his friends because to him, it’s a friendly gesture!!! He fails to realize that in modern times, doing that makes it look like you’re a couple

Due to his imprisonment in the deepest, coldest part of the ocean, Osial is very touch starved. When you hug him for the first time, that’s when you really see it cause he doesn’t want to let go :’) he always smells like the ocean air and incense

Massage his shoulders and hands, he’s never had a massage in his entire life!! This is a new experience that he’ll treasure cause…you’re making him feel so good

When you’re together, he’ll want to go to the beach or take a bath, anywhere with water really. Being able to submerge himself in the tub soothes his skin and mind. When you are together, he’ll show you how he can ‘dissolve’ into the water! He isn’t actually dissolving, he’s kinda turning into water? And melting into it? I’m having a hard time finding the right word for it ahhh-

Osial, while gentlemanly and quiet, does have a temper. Zhongli really brings it out of him just because he thinks it’s funny “You stupid lizard, you better quit stepping on my shoes” “I have no idea what you’re talking about, dear friend” “MORAX!!!!” “….You must stop calling me that in public” it’s kinda funny to see them interact

Osial is a pescatarian, meaning he is a vegetarian who doesn’t eat any meat except fish. He eats…a lot of fish. Sometimes, instead of cooking the fish he just bought from the market, he’ll take one and sit on the sofa with a book…Then eats it raw as a snack…bones and all…blood dripping down his arm, smeared on his face. This is where Zhongli’s aversion to seafood comes from. When you bring up the fact that watching eat a raw fish that way is somewhat disturbing….Osial, again, doesn’t get it. It’s a fish, there’s nothing gross about eating fish?? Babe the fish isn’t gross but the way you’re eating it is gross

Also, Osial is an old fashioned romantic. I mentioned earlier that he’d make jewelry and stuff for you but he’d also write poems for you too :) are they good? Well…’good’ is subjective

Azhdaha:

When Morax sealed him away, Azhdaha had been his most loyal companion. After the god of contracts gave him a set of eyes, Azhdaha swore to protect him. He followed him around, did almost everything he was asked to do

He had centuries to ponder his behavior when he was locked away. He sat and mourned the loss of his freedom, the loss of his dearest friend

So when Morax came to release him, he leapt at the opportunity to come up out of the ground

Azhdaha’s human form is TALL, like 6’5, and Liyue harbor is noooot meant for people that tall. He’s gotta duck when going through doors and kinda hunch in areas with low ceilings. He has a good sense of humor so he thinks it’s funny how he’s so tall, he makes jokes about it and laughs :)

Speaking of laughing, Azhdaha does NOT have an inside voice, he talks super loud!! He’s a bit rowdy too, he doesn’t like sitting still for long and loves going on adventures together

Azhdaha used to be blind and even though he has had eyes for centuries now, he never takes a sight for granted. He’ll watch the sunset, take ‘mental pictures’ of you when he thinks you look pretty, he’ll make you stand and watch street performances even if you’ve seen them ten times already just cause he loves it

His favorite colors are red, purple and orange. They’re just pleasing to his eyes! So when you wear those colors he’s sure to take as many ‘mental pictures’ as he can :) cute

He isn’t really a good cook but he DOES try. Cooking usually takes a delicate touch which he just doesn’t really have lol he’s got big hands

Azhdaha isn’t the best at cooking and is insecure about picking gifts, he just worries you won’t like it :( sooooo the way he shows his affection is by just hanging around you all the time! He’ll help with commissions, come pick flowers or break open cor lapis for you, go fishing with you, whatever you want to do!!

Once he’s fallen for you, it’s pretty easy to tell, he isn’t very subtle :) cuuute! You can just see it in his eyes….he’s totally infatuated with you

Zhongli will tease him too just cause it’s funny to fluster the gentle giant

((Thank you for reading this far!! Now I have a question, should/can I pick a human name for Osial and Azhdaha? Or should I just keep their god names when writing for them? I think I have a name for each but idk 😅))

[uwusenpaiuwu]

Baji A.K.A. The Worst (Best) Matchmaker Ever

Summary: Baji dares you to call Mikey a ‘piss boy.’ You’re an idiot, so of course you say you’ll do it. Things don’t go as planned...or do they?

Pairing: Sano Manjirou | Mikey x Male Reader

Warning(s): mentions of omorashi (pissing), but there’s no actual pissing involved

You’re gonna die. Oh, dear God, our holy Lord and savior, you’re gonna fucking die.

Baji may be an idiot, but you’re an even bigger idiot for letting him convince you to call Mikey a piss boy.

It’s a pretty damn good trade-off, you foolishly reasoned when you accepted his offer: $10 and a spin on his motorcycle, which is basically hitting the jackpot for a broke, motorcycle-less middle schooler like yourself.

Now, what you failed to take into consideration, is that you’d literally be risking your life. Had you taken a step back and used your brain for a second or two, you would’ve realized that calling Mikey, of all people, a ‘piss boy’ isn’t worth the measly $10 Baji is currently waving in the air from across the room.

You open your mouth to chicken out. Baji pulls out another $10.

“You wanna waste your allowance? Fuckin’ fine,” you grumble under your breath, making damn well sure your icy glare is received and, yeah, the irritating smirk that widens across Baji’s face when you continue on your path to your demise means your message is read, crystal clear. He just doesn’t give a shit.

Taking a deep breath, you square your shoulders and practically march towards where Mikey is casually munching on fresh taiyaki, legs crisscrossed as he sits atop an old crate.

Oh, man. What would’ve been worse: interrupting one of Mikey’s naps or interrupting him mid-snack?

(Un)Luckily, you get to experience one of them today!

When your footsteps lead you to where you don’t want to be, you stop to stand directly in front of your target, who doesn’t immediately look up in your presence. Simply keeps munch, munch, munching.

It gives you a chance to hesitate, a chance to rethink your reckless decision, a chance to back out and save yourself from a one-sided ass beating.

Alas, the chance to make that split-second decision vanishes when deep, dark eyes flicker up to meet yours, the owner’s expression reading that he’s not exactly bothered to see you there, rather, simply curious to know what you want.

It’s the perfect moment to get this bet over and done with, so, along with your prayers, you just go outright and say it.

“‘Sup, Piss Boy.”

Mikey stops chewing, and you already feel your heart about to burst out of your chest.

The room comes to a dead silence, making it all the more nerve-wracking when, following a dreadful minute of absolutely nothing, Toman’s leader speaks.

“What.”

It’s the only word he says, voice low, emotionless, and instead of it being a question, it’s a demand, a challenge even, to dare you to reaffirm what couldn’t have possibly come out of your mouth.

You remind yourself to breathe, while mentally preparing yourself to get decked in the face, ‘cause it’s way too late to backpedal now. One of your feet is already in the grave; it wouldn’t hurt to speed things up and launch your entire body in there.

“Nothing. I just- I wanted to know how my, uh...my little piss boy is...doing?”

Well, you lived a good life.

Mikey stares at you, unblinking.

One second passes. Two.

Then-

“Are you into that?”

“I- Huh?”

“Baji said you’re into some weird stuff, but that’s pretty fucking dirty, (Y/n). Even dirtier than Ken-chin’s tastes.”

(”Don’t fucking drag me into this shit.”)

Seeing the horrified confusion on your face, Mikey’s head tilts ever so slightly to the side.

“You want me to take a leak on you, right?” he asks, and that’s when your soul says its farewell, leaving behind a red-faced corpse on the verge of combusting. Bringing a hand to his chin, he adds, “Or, did you want to piss on me?”

You thought getting beat up by Mikey would be bad?

No, no, no.

You’d gladly take that over this humiliation.

“Hey, Baji! What did the couple in your porn mag do? Did they take turns or what?”

And Baji, the piece of shit, can’t hold it in anymore and breaks out in the most obnoxious laughter, the kind that’s loud, unrestrained, and has him doubling over, gasping for air.

“Oh, fuck, this is gold!” He’s wheezing at this point, triggering a few of the others to start laughing as well, including Mitsuya, who, to his credit, at least tries to stifle his laughter. “Ask (Y/n) what he prefers! Ask!”

At the other boy’s persistence, Mikey raises an eyebrow at you, giving you his full attention as though genuinely curious to know what your pissing preferences are. It causes the flush coloring your face to turn 10 shades darker and 10 degrees hotter.

You don’t know what’s worse: the fact that your friends now think you have a piss kink, or the fact that Mikey is open to exploring said kink with you.

“So, what’ll it be?”

“I...” What do you even say in this situation?

“Do you want me to pee on you?” Mikey asks again in a much softer voice, hoping it’ll reassure you into giving him a direct answer. He doesn’t want to scare you, no. Knowing how nervous you get around him, he’s been doing his best to show only the good sides of himself to you.

That must be why he takes your hand in his, giving it a little squeeze to encourage you to speak up. What he doesn’t know, is that as opposed to being comforted by the kind action, it makes you feel mortified, especially at the insinuation of you wanting him to release his bodily fluids on you.

So mortified, actually, that the first thing that comes out of your mouth is an unintentionally shy, “Please, don’t pee on me...”

You realize your mistake the second those words are said.

Ahh! No! That’s not what you were supposed to say!

Why didn’t you say you don’t want anything to do with piss in general?!

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Your head is spinning, thoughts going haywire after misspeaking , but what really sends you over the edge is the, admittedly, cute little smile you catch on Mikey’s face. Now, not only is your head in disarray, so is your heart.

“Alright. Since it’s you, I’ll let you do it.”

Nope. That’s it for you. Time to clock out of consciousness.

Thump!

“Oh. He passed out.”

Abrupt as it is, your passing out is of no concern whatsoever to Mikey. Nah, he finds it endearing as hell and crouches down to admire your ‘sleeping’ face.

“He must’ve been super happy,” he fondly muses, completely ignoring Draken’s advice to make sure you’re still breathing in favor of stroking your head and pinching your cheeks. 

(”He might die, dumbass. I’m tellin’ ya.”

“He won’t. (Y/n)’s strong.”)

On the other side of the room, Baji has zero fuel left in him to bark out another laugh at Mikey and his gullibility when it comes to wooing the person he fancies, though he does have the energy to wipe away the tears at the corners of his eyes.

“Best $20 I’ve ever spent,” he blissfully remarks to Chifuyu.

“Baji-san, this isn’t how you play matchmaker.”

“Dude, this is exactly how you play matchmaker.”

To prove his point, the long-haired teen points back to where Mikey is sitting beside you on the ground, carrying out a normal conversation with Draken, like there isn’t an unconscious person right beside them.

“Ken-chin, where should I take (Y/n) for our first date?”

“Huh? Date? I thought he was just gonna piss on you?”

“That means he likes me, Ken-chin,” Mikey explains, sounding, for all it’s worth, similar to a parent teaching their child a new life lesson. “And if the person I like likes me enough to want to piss on me, then, obviously, I should take him on a date.”

It makes no fucking sense, but if Mikey wants to believe that your love language is spilling less than desirable bodily fluids on each other, then so be it.

Because for him, anything goes as long as it’s you.

Not only are you $20 richer, you also scored yourself a date with someone that would let you take a piss on them and vice versa.

Aren’t you a lucky guy?