#why are there nested folders........

[ukelicious]

never have i been more confused as to what the fuck i was cooking. why is the only named layer Glasses

[ghoulodont]

wip game rules..... "Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs." ok i will not be following that exactly but lets go

phantom learns to drive

she vivisects me

4 dew pov

only two or three degrees fahrenheit

the gloves trick

(literally not even a document yet) mushy may shut up and let me take care of you

thank you @midnight-moth for tagging me, im not tagging anyone right now because i dont know whats going on but if you want to be tagged let me know and ill tag you. ill edit the post and everything

[vaas]

its fucked up that toyhou.se is still in beta and may never actually leave because it would be really perfect for me to organise all my fuckass ocs. where the shit else am i supposed to store em. my google docs is getting very disorganized

[thelaughingmerman]

Found a folder hiding within a folder hiding within a folder hiding within a folder...of all the art ive comissioned over the years. this ones my favorite ( by user spiteweaver over on flig/htri/sing)

[girlsdads]

tagged by @annebd for WIP wednesday friday... instead of a WIP snippet have something that i don't really know what else to do with but i didn't hate so :-)

Max’s phone lights up with Daniel’s name while he’s sitting in hospitality the morning of race day. It’s face-up on the arm of the sofa—Max watches as it catches the eye of Lawson next to him. Possessiveness rises like bile in his throat. He snatches the phone as quickly as he can, cradles it to his chest like that would erase the letters of Daniel’s name from Lawson’s memory.

“Whatever, mate,” Lawson quips, rolling his eyes. Like anyone was talking to him, anyway. Like Max gives a fuck if he’s here or not. Like they’re mates, and he’s not someone Max is contractually obligated to be cordial to.

“Clean up your crumbs, when you are finished,” Max says as he stands, sweeping his gaze pointedly over the spray of chocolate chip muffin debris covering Lawson’s lap and the sofa cushion beside him. He doesn’t wait for Lawson’s response before stalking from the room. He thinks about the stacks of keto-friendly protein bars going stale back in his motorhome and hates Lawson that much more.

Max waits until he’s closed the motorhome door behind him to open Daniel’s text.

It’s stupid, he knows, to want to do this in private. Everyone knows he talks to Daniel still, probably no one would think it strange or pathetic for Max to be texting him now. Daniel had said—Max had known he wouldn’t be here, this weekend, or any weekend. Max understands, in his own way, despite how bereft he always feels, during.

But. It is a race day and Daniel is texting him. Daniel hasn’t texted on a race weekend since, well—since. He had facetimed the day after Brazil, relaxed and happy and congratulating Max from New York. They keep a running conversation during off weeks, Daniel sending picture after picture of himself with arms around his friends, some Max knows, some he doesn’t. Max saves the photos to a hidden folder on his phone, crops them all so it’s only Daniel. Sometimes it leaves him missing an arm, or two, but he can’t stand to see Daniel with all these people who aren’t Max. In turn, Max sends him videos of the cats, memes he hopes will make Daniel laugh, updates on the funny-looking bird that has been building a nest on Max’s balcony.

(That’s my—what’s the little animal friend that witches have—my familiar, Maximus! I sent him to watch over you, obviously. Be nice to him.) That message had gone into the secret folder, too.

Race weekends are radio silence. Max has come to terms with that, knows it isn’t personal, that it’s an open wound Daniel is nursing. So for Daniel to reach out, today of all days, Max can’t help the stab of yearning in his belly. It could be an important day, for Max, maybe Daniel decided—maybe he’s said he’s hopped a plane, he’s driving out from LA, he’ll be here before the chequered flag—

Max couldn’t bear it if anyone else were around, if that’s not what Daniel’s message says. Even alone, he feels like a hermit crab that’s outgrown its shell, hope leaving him soft-bellied and vulnerable.

He swipes open his and Daniel’s message chain.

Daniel’s not coming to Vegas. At least, that’s not what he’s texted.

The text is a picture. Max’s eyes are drawn immediately to Daniel, though he’s only in about one quarter of the frame. If he was trying to take a selfie, he did not do such a good job--it's mostly a shot of the dusty-red ground, Daniel's beautiful face peeking in from the top corner. He’s wearing his dirt biking clothes, sweat darkening the pits of his long sleeves where his arm is lifted to make a thumbs-up. His pinky still doesn't quite fold in next to the rest of his fingers. Max wants to kiss the careful bend of his knuckle.

It's a few long moments before Max even registers what's etched into the earth behind Daniel. It is very obvious, then, why Daniel is sending this now. There in the California dirt, Daniel has used a stick or maybe even one of his long, lovely fingers to write 3 + 1 = 4. A wobbly heart is drawn around the whole thing.

Max is infinitely grateful for the lack of prying eyes as he sinks slowly to the floor. He draws his knees up to his chest and cradles the phone in cupped hands, as if the message will be sucked back into the ether if he grips too tightly. He lightly taps to full-screen the image, zooms in on Daniel's face. The soft, almost awkward smile is the same one Max has only ever seen directed at him. He knows this, because he's spent years cataloguing Daniel's interactions with others, longing and longing. Daniel never makes that face at anyone else.

Max's phone buzzes as another text comes through. Daniel's hands reaching through the wire to squeeze Max's heart until it leaks out between his fingers.

Always cheering for you, Max. Give 'em hell for me.

[little-miss-bioweapon121]

Part 4 Sanguinius experiences more Primarch parental instincts ft. The Galaxies Most Exhausted Medic

(Part 1 Here)

(Part 2 Here)

(Part 3 Here)

(Part 5 here)

Cw: Transhumanism

Sabio is not head of the Blood Angel Medicae for nothing. Hundreds of years of experience and training. Innovative research and studies into anomalies and diseases that only come from the demons the imperium fights. And enough skills and authority to boss around even the Primarch Himself when it comes down to it. All this to say that Sabio is not a warp damned idiot.

But the way Sanguinius is acting now you’d be forgiven for thinking he was.

“My lord.”

Sanguinius sits perfectly poised and postured on the examination table. A heavy satin cloak covering his wings.

“Apothecary.”

Sabio feels his eye twitch. A terrible omen.

“Would you kindly remove your cloak so I can preform a full examination of your health?”

Sanguinius hums as though he was at all entertaining the idea.

“Ah, I think I shall keep my cloak on if you do not mind. It is quite chilly today.”

The twitch in his eye becomes more pronounced. Sanguinius’ smile holds the same sculpted perfection he uses when dealing with particularly agressive politicians.

“Ah but you see, my lord, your wings are an important part of your health. And considering your injury affected their performance it is only appropriate that I monitor their healing afterwards.”

Sabio’s tone is tense and the grinding of his molars is audible to the enhanced ear. Sanguinius hums and nods as though he were merely considering a new point of view.

“A valid point my dear Apothecary. But I shall have to politely refuse.”

Sabio has to physically force his eye to twitch less.

“My Primarch.”

“Apothecary.”

“My lord.”

“Medicae.”

“Sanguinius.”

“Sabio.”

“Drop the cloak or I’m banning your sparring sessions for a month.”

That finally gives the Primarch pause. Sanguinius’ smile turns brittle and his eyes narrow.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Two months.”

“You dare-“

“Three. months.”

A tense stand off. The narrow glare of Sanguinius’ eyes burn straight into Sabio’s iron clad squint. A heartbeat, two. Finally with a sigh, and visibly deflating, Sanguinius drops his cloak.

And reveals the plucked expanse where his down feathers should be.

Sabio stares. Sanguinius staunchly avoids eye contact.

“My lord.”

A tone so carefully controlled it can only be likened to the precision of an assassins blade.

“Where the fuck are your feathers.”

Sanguinius coughs, his face slowly blooming red.

“I- uh I plucked them.”

“You plucked them.”

Sanguinius stares very very intently at an informational diagram only a few feet away. He nods, his face burning.

“And may I ask why you plucked your feathers?”

Sanguinius give a response that is too quiet to hear.

“Speak up, mumbling is beneath you.”

“ThenestwastoocoldIneededtolineit.”

A long pause.

“I heard nest,” a carefully calculating gaze, “Is this something to do with these instincts of yours I keep noting?”

Sanguinius bites the inside of his cheek for a moment before deflating even further.

“…….Yes. I- the baby was just so cold and none of the blankets were good enough I-…..The feathers just felt right.”

A deep resigned sigh escapes the Apothecary. A great many lessons he’s learned in his long career and one more important than any other rings true in this moment. Pick your battles.

“But they did not fall off?”

“…..No.”

“And there has been no redness or swelling in the area?”

“No.”

“No excessive bleeding, bruising, or strange smells?”

“None.”

Another deep and long suffering sigh. Sabio closes the folder in his hands and turns to put his items away.

“Then I give you a clean bill of health.”

Sanguinius blinks in surprise. Sabio turns to him, an eyebrow raised in scrutiny.

“As this does not imminently affect you or your child’s health I will not consider it an avid concern. Just please use your better judgment to consider your actions if any other more avian traits try to make themselves known.”

Sanguinius quickly nods, his face pinched in embarrassed discomfort. Sabio waves him off and Sanguinius all but flees from the room. A final bone-deep sigh.

…

Today seems like a good day to crack open that gifted bottle of Mjød.

[frostdayz]

Same mission pt 2

Bucky Barnes x reader

Genre: enemies to lovers

pt 1

Summary: Forced to partner up for a high-stakes operation, the tension between you ignites into a complicated dance of rivalry, respect, and something dangerously close to attraction.

A/N: BOO! I even surprised myself in how fast im posting this part 2.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The waiting was the worst part.

Not the field work. Not the split-second decisions with your life in someone else's hands. Not even the quiet moments after a mission when your hands wouldn’t stop shaking and your heart thumped like it had forgotten how to slow down. The hours ticking by with no orders and no movement, just static and silence and one very large, very irritating former assassin seated less than ten feet away from me.

We’d been stuck in the safehouse for three days now. Three days of eating takeout in silence. Three days of reviewing surveillance feeds, poring over maps and half-deciphered coded messages from SHIELD’s informants. Three days of knowing exactly what the other person was thinking and refusing to say it out loud.

The tension was oppressive. Like the air itself was holding its breath.

Five words. That was our average.

“Pass me that file.” “You done with the footage?” “Need the charger.” “Don’t touch my notes.”

We’d gone hours without speaking, entire afternoons wrapped in an icy détente, passing each other like shadows.

I was on the couch now, a thick file folder open in my lap, papers spread out across the cushions like I was building a nest of classified secrets. My legs were tucked beneath me, the space heater humming beside me, but I still couldn’t shake the chill that crept up my spine.

Bucky sat at the small kitchen table, staring at the laptop screen with a furrowed brow and the same unreadable expression he always wore. His fingers tapped lightly against the side of his mug always the same rhythm, three taps, then stillness. Three taps. Then nothing.

I wasn’t watching him. Not really. Not directly. But I noticed.

Every time.

Why did he always do that?

“I can feel you thinking,” he said suddenly.

I didn’t look up. “That’s called having a brain.”

He hummed not amused, not angry. Just… I don't know.

Which somehow irritated me more.

“You keep tapping your cup like it’s Morse code,” I muttered, flipping another page. “Are you sending messages to someone or just trying to make me lose my mind?”

He didn’t answer.

Silence.

Once again.

Good. I didn’t want conversation. Not with him. Not when every time he spoke, I either wanted to scream at him or-

I shut that thought down fast. It's the boredom talking, i'm going crazy.

He’s in the room. That’s it. It doesn’t mean anything. You’re trained for worse. You’ve been locked in cells and cages with people who wanted you dead this is just Bucky. You can handle Bucky.

Except it wasn’t just Bucky. It's Bucky in a way i've never seen him before.

It was Bucky with his sleeves rolled up and a shadow on his jaw, and that stupid way his eyes darkened when he concentrated. It was Bucky, quietly dissecting every feed from the gallery like he could see patterns I hadn’t noticed yet. It was Bucky remembering things I forgot to double-check and handing me a corrected blueprint without saying a word.

It was him proving, again and again, why he was one of SHIELD’s best.

And reminding me why I hated that he knew it. I glanced at the wall clock. 3:42 p.m. Another hour wasted.

“They’re stalling,” I said turning my head up at him.

He didn’t look away from the laptop. “You think?”

“I’ve been watching the feed from the art gallery all morning. Same patterns. Same faces. Same guards switching posts every twenty-five minutes. Hydra’s careful, but they’re not subtle. Something’s off.”

He closed the laptop and leaned back in his chair.

“What do you want to do? Kick the door in and see what bites?”

I narrowed my eyes. “I want a plan. A clean one.”

“You don’t always get clean,” he said quietly. “Not with Hydra. Not with anything real.”

That struck a nerve not just because he was right, but because I hated the way his voice softened when he said it. Like he wasn’t just talking about the mission. Like maybe he was talking about himself.

I quickly shut the file. “You want to say something? Say it.”

His jaw tensed. “I’m not here to fight.”

“No, you’re just here to second-guess me. Undermine me. Make sure the trigger’s always in your hands.”

"I miss one shot and now its the end of the world" I say through my teeth. Im tired of being undercut.

He stood suddenly, pushing the chair back. Not aggressively but enough to make the hair on my arms stand up.

“You really believe that?”

I held my ground. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He stepped closer. “Because if I didn’t think you were capable, I would’ve told Hill to pull you off the mission. But I didn’t. Because despite everything, I trust you. This isn't about some stupid shot”

I blinked, stunned. “You trust me?”

“You don’t believe me?”

I hesitated. The words were there climbing up my throat but they didn’t make it out.

Because yes, a part of me did believe him. But another part, a louder part, didn’t want to. It was easier to be angry. Easier to hold onto the resentment, the memory of that rooftop, the split second when I felt like I’d been made small.

So instead, I said nothing.

And Bucky? He read it. All of it. And nodded once.

“Right,” he muttered. “Back to pretending we’re fine.”

He turned and walked toward the bedroom again, and I felt it all over the pressure in my chest, the guilt I didn’t want, the crack in my armor.

--

Night fell slow and gray.

I sat by the window after dinner, watching the rain tap against the glass. We hadn’t spoken in hours. I could hear him moving in his room, pacing like a caged animal. Or maybe that was just my projection maybe I was the one pacing inside my own head.

Because if I was honest truly honest I didn’t just hate Bucky Barnes. I envied him. Envied the way he could switch off. The way he could live with all the ghosts and still function. I envied his silence, his patience, the way he never reached for more than he needed.

And I feared him. Not because he was dangerous but because, deep down, I knew he saw through me. Always had. He saw what I tried to hide.

That underneath the competence, the cold exterior, the perfect agent’s mask I was still someone waiting to be seen.

And worse still waiting to be chosen first by anything... Anyone.

--

Next day

It was cheap and frozen half-burnt on the edges, soggy in the middle but it was food. And at this point, anything warm felt like a victory.

We hadn’t gotten our go-order yet. That meant one more night in this tomb of awkward silences and secondhand tension. The day was close we could feel it pressing against the walls but SHIELD hadn’t given us the green light. Too many variables. Too many unknowns.

And I was sick of sitting around.

Bucky hadn’t spoken to me since our last… well, “conversation” was too generous a word. More like our emotionally restrained shouting match over intel and trust. Since then, it had been nothing but silence and carefully avoided eye contact. We moved around each other like ghosts. Like we were afraid if we touched, we’d explode.

But tonight, I’d decided to try something different.

Not to make peace. Not to open up. Just… to not feel like I was sharing oxygen with a glacier.

I set the table two chipped plates, forks, and water. No ambiance, no soft music, no candlelight. Just civilian-grade safe house dimness and the ever-present hum of the surveillance monitors.

“Food’s ready,” I said, glancing toward the back room.

A long pause. No reply.

Then the door creaked, and Bucky emerged, same scowl, same guarded posture. But he sat at the table. Wordlessly.

I took the seat across from him. For a minute, the only sound was the scrape of utensils and the distant sound of a car horn outside.

“So...” I tried, keeping my voice light, casual, human, “if we both make it through tomorrow without strangling each other, I think we deserve hazard pay.”

No answer.

“Or at least a bottle of something expensive.”

He didn’t even blink. Just kept eating.

I played with the food on my plate letting my fork slowly poke through, letting out a slow breath. “You always this talkative before a mission?”

Still nothing.

The quiet stretched until it started to burn. My appetite dwindled, but I kept eating. Out of stubbornness, maybe. Or pride.

“You know,” I said more carefully, trying to strike some kind of middle ground, “I didn’t mean to undermine you earlier. I just… I don’t know. I’m trying here.”

His fork paused halfway to his mouth. Then he set it down, slow and deliberate.

“You’re not trying,” he said, not looking at me. “You’re pretending.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You think if you act normal for ten minutes, I’ll forget everything that’s happened since New York? Or the fact that you still look at me like I’m one mistake away from proving you right?”

“That’s not fair—”

“No,” he said, standing and picking up his plate. “It’s not. Admit you hate me for no reason.”

He didn’t yell. Didn’t slam anything. That somehow made it worse. He just walked to the sink, rinsed his dish, and disappeared back into the bedroom.

The door shut behind him with a soft click that felt louder than a gunshot.

And just like that, dinner was over.

I sat at the table alone for a while, swirling the remnants of my lasagna with the fork, my stomach a tight in a sour knot.

He was impossible.

One minute, I was his equal. The next, I was a threat. Then a stranger. Then a ghost.

Why did I even bother?

I told myself it didn’t matter. That his opinion and moods weren’t my concern. I didn’t need him to like me. I didn’t need his validation. This was a mission, not a friendship. We were partners on paper, and in forty-eight hours, we’d either be finished or dead.

I didn’t need him.

And yet…

He looked tired and I felt guilty.

Not just physically, but the kind of tired you don’t sleep off. The kind that lingers in the bones. The kind that made people pull away from warmth, from kindness, like they didn’t think they deserved it.

I’d seen it before. In the mirror, mostly.

I stood and cleared the table, ignoring the twisting in my chest. I turned out the lights, double-checked the locks, and threw a blanket over myself on the couch.

Let him sulk, I thought. Let him mope and wall himself off.

I didn’t care.

Not even a little.

I stared at the ceiling for a long time, my thoughts loud and unwelcome.

But when I finally drifted off, the last thing I imagined was the sound of his fork hitting the plate… and the look on his face when he walked away.

Not angry.

Just… tired.

[tacticaldiary]

Frightened Of The Fall

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"Simon." He rasps, grip tightening around her arms. "Call me Simon."

Her smile widens and it makes something in him break with a need to let her light smooth over his jagged, broken pieces.

"I love you, Simon."

Masterlist

Baby birds are born with an innate fear of falling. Frightening little things, skittering over to the edges of their nests and peering down, curious but never brave enough to take a leap. It's their mothers that nudge them along, shove them over the edge knowing that they'll come out unscathed.

Simon remembers the soft look on his mother's face when she used to read to him at night, locking the door and draping his bedsheets over their heads like a little makeshift tent.

It's one of the clearer memories in his head, but nothing in his life comes completely untainted.

His father always got tired of yelling and banging on his door. He'd find the master key somewhere and click the lock back open, ending her attempts to distract him on the worst days.

His father had shoved him off the edge too soon, not accustomed to a mother's intuition and only driven by the cruel need to see him flail and fall as he hit the ground hard.

                               · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·  

"Does pasta sound okay?"

Ghost hums into his cup of coffee, skimming over a document he'd put off till the last minute to review. Their kitchen table is littered with files and folders belonging to them both. "Thought you were going out tonight.?"

Working in the same division of the military means their privy to the same confidential information, luckily.

"I was," She nods, setting down the packet of pasta. "But I cancelled. Thought some time alone with you would be better..."

He nods, and the knot of unease that's been tightening in her chest for the past week makes an appearance again. He doesn't say anything, he hasn't been saying much at all these days, and it's making her more than uneasy.

Ghost wasn't an overly silent man, especially not with her, so this behaviour has been out of character enough to raise some flags. A little frustrated at his lack of interest, she walks across the kitchen to join him at the table.

"Is something wrong?"

Sometimes, Ghost sees the gentle nature of his mother in her.

When she smiles at him like he's hung the moon and the stars for doing her a simple favour. The quiet nights together spent soaking in company that he hasn't had the chance to experience in years...

"Nothing's wrong."

"You're angry at me."

He glances up at her, raising an eyebrow. "You'd know if I was mad at you, love."

"Then what is it?" She pushes, "You've been so...so disinterested lately." She really tries to word it eloquently in a way that's not too intense. "You don't join me for any activity apart from work, you barely say a word to me if I don't initiate a conversation!"

She's certainly got his attention now.

"You didn't even ask where I was going when I told you I had plans tonight, it's like...it's like you don't care anymore." She finishes, pushing out the last part of her sentence in a voice wrapped with hurt. "If you don't...don't want me, I'd rather you just say it. I'll understand, but it's not fair to keep me at arm's length when-"

"Stop." He cuts her off loudly. "You think I don't want you anymore?" The papers lay on the table, completely forgotten as he pushes himself to stand up next to her. There's an urgency in his movements that she hasn't seen before.

"You sure make it seem that way."

"I don't." His gaze flickers across her face and his stomach sinks when he sees nothing but raw honesty and hurt. "Of course I want you-"

"Then why don't you talk to me?"

That shuts him up.

"I was thinking." He clenches and unclenches his jaw. "About everything. About...us." When he sees devastation flash across her face, he's quick to correct her misunderstanding. "Fucking hell, not like that." He assures her, taking her arms in his hands and stepping closer. "Never like that, darling. Shouldn't have made you doubt anything, didn't mean to." Ghost presses her face to the crook of his neck, loosening a sigh of relief when she doesn't push him away and nestles there instead.

"Then what is it?" She draws in a shaky breath. "If it's not me, why are you pulling away?"

It's a beat before he answers.

"I've always wanted a family." He squeezes her arms briefly. "Never thought I'd have anyone else to call that." His gaze is fixed firmly on the wall behind them, even when she tilts her head up to peer at him.

She doesn't push him, doesn't beg for details. Patient as always, and the knowledge that she would not force him to tell her anything he couldn't is the very thing that drives him to bear his thoughts to her.

Ghost tells her about coming home to a house of cold bodies. He doesn't spare any details, she's not frail or fragile. Hell, she's drawn just as much blood, just as viciously as he had, so he lays it all out as it happened. He tells her about his mother, about the good in his life ripped away by a fate that he dragged across their doormat.

"You're afraid it'll happen again." She whispers when he finishes.

"I'm...cautious."

"It's okay to be afraid." She smooths a hand over his hair much more gently than a man like him deserves. "You're human, Ghost. You're alive, they would be glad that you made it out alive."

"Shit luck I brought them, though." A hoarse voice he lets mingle with the loathing he's carried ever since he could remember.

"It won't happen again." His gaze flickers down to her at the declaration, "It's in the past, baby. Unless you let me go, I'm not going anyway."

"I don't." He tightens his grip instinctively. The very idea of being the reason he's lost the best thing that's ever happened to him is revolting. He intends to keep her for as long as she'll have him.

"Good." She cracks a small smile. Her fingers ghost over the scars on his cheek, marred with years of memories. "Neither of us are good people." She whispers. "Not with the things we've done, the things we've seen. But we're good for each other. You're so good to me and nothing in your past is going to take that away. Not even you."

Earnest and honest and determined, there's no protest Ghost can make that would strike her words untrue. He takes in an unsteady breath instead, letting himself sink into her promises.

"Let me in." She whispers, soft and pleading. "Build a life with me. Let me take care of you, Ghost."

He loosens a shuddering sigh out of his chest, a feeling so viscerally overwhelming washing him inside and out. It grows and expands, sheds lights on the corners of him untouched by love and safety.

Always shrouded in caution and fear, the sudden light is bound to sting the eyes of someone who's kept in the dark. The warmth is enough to burn someone kept in the cold.

She searches his eyes for something, for anything. A hint of agreement, a crack in the iron walls she can take as a sign to start chipping at.

"I love you."

And he believes it.

"Simon." He rasps, grip tightening around her arms. "Call me Simon."

Her smile widens and it makes something in him break with a need to let her light smooth over his jagged, broken pieces.

"I love you, Simon."

And she can see the light shining through.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

(28/11/2023)

[k0nanharv3y]

Ahhhh, yes, I am not accepting criticism, if you do not like the path I take, you are free to leave and not come back to my blog, I do this for fun. I work in a cafeteria, I like to imagine that the characters I like work in a cafeteria, stfu

Robin Hood AU Part 5

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Batman was sensible, he was a detective, and what that implied, he was a gossip and a busybody

He knew someone had brought him back, he knew that someone was in the League of Assassins and he knew that someone was not Ra's

The news had spread like a rumor and was confirmed one day when Talia appeared on a rooftop beside him, announcing his father's death. Bruce had said nothing more than a grunt of recognition and placed a hand on the woman's shoulder as a simple "I'm sorry for your lost"

Only she didn't say "My father is dead" or "I have claimed my father's position." She said "Someone has finished off the demon's head"

Bruce didn't give it much importance at the time and now he regrets it

Because that someone was probably the one who brought him back

I spend hours and days sitting in front of the giant computer, reviewing the evidence of its existence, noticing a pattern similar to someone he could never catch

Robin Hood

The way of writing, the photos, the system and the program he used was the same one that Robin Hood used when he sent samples of some attack or plan, and Bruce opened the rogue's folder again

And spent more hours gathering everything they knew about him

He didn't accomplish much, really. Just a few notes of the cases he solved, the ones he helped out with, the times he attacked multimillion-dollar companies to give it away and re-route the money through various legal channels to those in need in Gotham

And also the first recorded cases of Robin Hood, those who directly attacked Bruce and Batman, those who... those who offered an apology with a letter

The letter where he declared to know Batman's identity and offered him a "I'm sorry for your lost", an apology and an explanation

And Batman just growled even more, gritting his teeth, going over for the 5th time the possible people behind Robin Hood

///

Stephanie Brown didn't consider herself a passionate coffee lover, she was more into Alfred's infusions and hot teas with sugar. She had a time when she was Robin when her dependence on caffeine was worrying and she received an intervention from her sister and brother to stop her. And then she started drinking tea

So her presence at this place was just because of the fame it was getting. The photos on Instagram showed a nice and warm place, with poetry performances, singing and comedians passing on stage every so often, with Jazz playing in the background, fairy lights on the ceiling tangled with artificial plants

And of course, that was lovely, but in all the photos there was always something, someone, standing out. And that was the barista behind the bar

First they declared him as the cute boy who didn't know how to make a decent Frappuccino but always thanked you with a charming smile

Later as Gotham's lost prince, Timothy Drake, who had started his own business after Drake Industries went bankrupt following the death of both founders

Then they started filling the reviews with the great tasting drinks, the delicious desserts, and the cute barista who remembered your name even if you had only been there once

[Tim took it as a challenge and had his ego hurt when people commented on his poor cooking skills, so after months of trial and error and many YouTube and Reddit tutorials, he did it]

And Stephanie Brown understood why everyone was talking about the barista. The guy was skinny, a little shorter than her, with black hair tied in a messy ponytail, pale like any Gotnamemite who hasn't seen the sun in... ever. And... and he smiled when he heard the bell above the door ring

"Hi, welcome to The Nest, what can I..." His face fell a little but he suddenly recovered "What are you gonna drink?"

Steph walked over to the bar, admiring the place after staring at the guy for too long, and looked up at the chalkboards above, noticing a fun fact that the photos didn't mention

"Hi, can I get a Purple Spoiler Tea?" She smiled and looked back at the boy, admiring his face up close "And a..." she looked back at the desserts, giggling at the names they had "A Stealed Cat-Cake?"

"Sure!, it will be 9.75" the boy's face turned slightly pink, not daring to look at the girl

Steph handed him the cash and deposited a 50 dollar bill into the box secured with tape and a padlock

"Will it be for takeaway or to consume here?" He asked pleasantly, beginning to slide along the bar, preparing the drink

"To consume here" she answered

"Okay, go and take a seat, I'll call your name when I'm done"

"But I haven't told you my name" Steph smiled confused

"It's not every day that a Wayne comes to my coffee shop, you know?" He joked and his voice sounded somewhat restless but he kept his tone simple and cheerful

Steph's face warmed with a slight blush and she nodded, even knowing that the barista wouldn't see her and walked to a table near the window

The atmosphere was warm, with pleasant aromas and chatter filling the sound over the relaxing jazz music, the lights were not too bright nor too dim and at one point, she heard the boy's voice calling her from the bar

Steph walked over and took the tray, admiring the color of the tea, a soft purple, garnished with red berries at the bottom and smiled at the sight of the dessert

Two cupcakes, one with the face of a laughing cat and the other with a bag that was supposed to be full of diamonds

Steph smiled and thanked the barista before returning to her table, where she took a photo of her tray, posting it on her social media with the caption praising the place and the barista

She would definitely bring her brothers here

And then she saw both napkins under both products and carefully removed them

'Spoiler has had three identities so far, she started out as Spoiler, became the third Robin, shared the Batgirl mantle with Orphan, and returned to being Spoiler recently'

'Catwoman started out being hated by the city for years, but has recently begun to be more accepted after being seen helping the Bats'

It was data... that you'd find on Reddit or the internet if you were a hobbyist who did a lot of research. But what surprised Steph was that it was handwritten and she wondered if she had different data for each dish and if it was different every time she sorted them

She smiled and looked around for the barista

A few seconds passed before Tim looked back at her, and they both smiled at each other

///

Part 6 tho

Part 7 im thinking of making this a fic fr

Part 8 am i adding selina soon?

List of products that Tim sells in the cafeteria because I thought it was hilarious to name foods

[noideabutsims]

Donut Co.'s Dream-Build-Play Blocks: Expansion Edition

🚨 Calling All Simmers! The Wait is OVER! 🎉 Donut Co.'s Dream-Build-Play Blocks: Expansion Pack is FINALLY HERE! 🚨

Dust off those creative hats and prepare for a playtime EXPLOSION because the Dream-Build-Play Blocks are back and better than ever! We've crammed a whopping 80 new items into this expansion pack, guaranteed to transform your Sims' homes into vibrant, block-tastic wonderlands.

🚀 Blast Off to Imagination Station:

20 Unique Dollhouses: Prepare to be WOWED. From towering castles to bustling town centers, there's a miniature masterpiece for every Sim's imagination. Race cars on the Runaway Racetrack, explore the cosmos with the Rocket Up-and-Away, or rule the kingdom from the majestic Clock Tower! Each dollhouse is a portal to a world of endless possibilities.

🏡 Build-Your-Own Clubhouse Kit: Calling all aspiring architects! This kit is your Sim kid's blank canvas. Plop down the invisible base, then let their creativity run wild with 20 colorful building blocks. Design sprawling clubhouses with secret entrances, cozy reading nooks, or even a mini stage for impromptu dance parties!

🏰 2 Pre-Built Playhouses: Need a little inspiration? We've got you covered with two pre-built clubhouses that showcase the endless possibilities of the Build-Your-Own Clubhouse Kit. (Psst... Dreamhouse Decorator required!)

🌈 13 Decor Block Piles & 10 Single Decor Blocks: These aren't just blocks, they're instant bursts of personality! Scatter these colorful creations around your Sims' homes for a playful touch. Or, unleash your inner builder with the single blocks and the magical "bb.moveobjects" cheat – the sky's the limit!

👶 14 Nesting Blocks: Tiny hands, meet big fun! These soft, colorful blocks are perfect for your littlest Sims. Watch them giggle with glee as they stack, nest, and explore a world of shapes and textures. Learning and development have never been so adorable!

🎉 A Rainbow of Possibilities:

We're celebrating creativity in all its forms with two vibrant color options for EVERY block item. Choose from classic brights for a burst of energy, or soft pastels for a touch of dreamy sweetness.

💖 Why You'll LOVE It:

Endless Fun: This set is PACKED with play value, guaranteeing hours of entertainment for Sims of all ages.

Sparks Creativity: Encourage your Sims to think outside the block with open-ended building and imaginative play.

Kid-Approved: We designed this set with little ones in mind, ensuring safety, durability, and maximum fun!

So What Are You Waiting For?

The Dream-Build-Play Blocks: Expansion Pack is available NOW! Let the building bonanza begin! Don't forget to share your Sims' amazing creations with us – we can't wait to see what you build! ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Downloading: If you download the zip, pick EITHER the merged file, or the unmerged packages in the folders - you cant have both, they're the same. The merged file has EVERYTHING! For other refrence images, and to see all 80 items laid out - you can check the preview here: https://www.tumblr.com/noideabutsims/760676067863412736/simmers-get-ready-to-unleash-a-world-of?source=share There are 2 functional playhouses (Dream home decorator required), a playhouse base, 20 functional dollhouses, 43 décor items, and 14 nesting blocks. All ages can play with the dollhouses, toddlers and up can play with the playhouses. Dream home decorator is REQUIRED to use the playhouses, the merged file includes them automatically so if you do not have it - please use the unmerged files HUGE thank you goes out to@TaurusDesigns because they have continuously helped me out with my meshing/making of objects, and they're a wonderful CC creator! Make sure to check em out! <3 (All of our CC can be found by typing " Donut " into the search bar!) All 80 items are New meshes, and have all shadows and LODs. There is a slight glitch in the shadows on a few objects, but it only occurs BEFORE placing them down in game. Once they are placed, they are perfectly fine! Same as the last set! <3 If you wanna check out our other block sets, you can find them here: https://www.tumblr.com/noideabutsims/754033695218909184/8-new-fun-toys-for-sims-4-infantstoddlers?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/noideabutsims/754032309525774336/tons-of-functional-new-items-for-sims-4-toys?source=share

Infants that can sit up can play with all dollhouse block items, toddlers and kids can play too! Most of my images have my reshade on - it changes the color minimally, so white may look a little off in photos, but in game it will look white/normal!! In images you can find the non-reshade example! <3 You can size them up and down using the bracket keys. [ ] <- these ones.  I personally, use the tool mod to size my items up and down, and specifically with these if you are wanting them to be "perfectly sized" i would recommend you grab the tool mod by twistedmexi! If you would like to use it in build-buy mode, you'll need BBB!) Re-colors, and using this item as a mesh/base is fully allowed! you can include the mesh, and do what you please with the item, as long as you link back to the original. There are posts for all of our cc on our main 3 platforms (Tumblr, curseforge, patreon. ), So there is no reason not to link back!

Will be releasing more content soon! stay tuned! ❤️ (NOT affiliated with EA or Maxis in any way! We just make CC! ) DOWNLOAD: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ CurseForge: curseforge.com/sims4/build-buy/donut-co-s-dream-build-play-blocks-expansion Google Drive: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1E2ELomt_YIWhofi4wC4niJHzvkKNlMpx/view?usp=sharing

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/posts/111578246?pr=true ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**** Small tidbit about support, we really appreciate the read if you don't mind!**** We would love to be able to do this full time, but sadly without it bringing in an income, we can only do so part time. We LOVE making CC, but we NEVER want to force our supporters to pay us - just to access some items we made. Due to our items NEVER being paywalled, we have to now ask that if any of you could, we hoped you would consider downloading on Curseforge - if you do, you can help us be able to afford to keep making CC! If all or even a majority of the people who always download our items were to download on curseforge or sub to our $1 teir on Patreon - we could afford to turn this into a job. I know not everyone can, and that's ok, but if its possible it really really does help us out. It funds fixing our computers to be able to continue making cc, helps pay our bills, and even helps us fix our car and bike, and just in general when things happen. It really does mean alot to us, so supporting our patreon, or downloading via curseforge are amazing ways that you guys can help us! Thanks so much for all of your support!

[shabbytigers]

got a speakers/subwoofer set from my roommate who is one of those hi-fi enthusiasts with wild standards and equipment. he sold his best amp recently for a shitload of money. this stuff is just spare tertiary-tier crap he had sitting around and it’s fucking fantastic by my lights

the thing is controllable by bluetooth from pc or phone, which is fine

my question is when did local music files stop being a thing? maybe (definitely) i’m old, but i have 375 GB of music files i’m not gonna just throw away for the sake of a nice simple spotify or whatever cloud-mediated experience

it took like two hours of googlefumbling (including a phase of seriously considering resurrecting an old QNAP NAS system of R’s) for it to dawn upon me that i don’t have to move the music onto my phone or some fancy new device in lieu of phone, i can play it from the fucking laptop. that’s good, because, for some reason, “put mp3 file on iphone” is a completely infeasible motherfucking ask in 2024!

(it is a minor inconvenience moving the laptop around all the time, but that’s why it’s a laptop and not a desktop)

next problem is mp3 player apps for the laptop, which mostly don’t seem to be able to recognize and work with a library of local files consisting of simple fucking nested folders on a computer (you know — music / artist / album or named misc collection / song.mp3 files) such that i can be like “play this whole album from start to finish.” which is only the number one ask i’m likely to have of the system??? i don’t Want to have to play songs individually, manually, every song. for some music this is horribly disruptive! but windows media player appears to demand i do that!

i’m trying another app now that seems reasonably promising qua interface but it’s still cataloguing the music library, which seems like a huge undertaking roughly equivalent to downloading all the material. i played like three songs very early in the process (patience is not my forte) to see how they’d sound on the awesome speakers and two of them were noticeably garbled; hoping the process is such that those files were incomplete at the time and that it’ll all work properly once the thing gets done onboarding itself 💀

i would have thought that by 2024 personal tech would be easier to wrangle tbqfh but it all seems to have gotten substantially worse instead of better since the iPod era

[jasminerva]

heya, jas~

i have been rereading sakadays, and nagumo's hair looks longer in the early art style compared to the recent one. ever since then, i can't stop thinking about how nagumo would come to us for help in cutting his hair. the bonus comic where rion cut his hair didn't help either haha. he would use it as an excuse to spend time together with us too, and make up lies like 'i don't feel like going to the salon. too noisy there!' when asked why he didn't go to a salon instead.

for him, it could be one of the rare times where he feels more ease. he would chat (and teasing) with you, but i like to imagine him staying silent most of the time to enjoy the rare times he gets to feel peace and safe in your hands. it's just you, him, and the sound of scissors snipping his hair in the background. even if you mess up his hair a little, he wouldn't mind haha.

(constantly adding these longer-haired Nagumo arts: 2dyongamja, Account_SSAW, kuroiisana, nano099, BByo_chick, DoReMi__2523, kongmn41, sylyaoh, Oeasy_2, KAISEI_10TSUKI)

Yo, Memi~!

It certainly does!!! That's why in ch4 Tenju's comment about how he should get a haircut was a bit of an easter egg XD Maybe he cleaned it up after that huehuehue~

I love rereading SakaDays haha I have a bookmarks folder of all the chapters where Nagumo appears 🙈 FOR RESEARCH! I SWEAR!!!

Omg that bonus / extra was so cute. And showcases how petty Nagumo can be. I can picture it now during their early JCC days.

Thank you for sharing that idea! I loved it so much I wrote something on the fly~

(P.S. I don't know anything about cutting hair. The most I've ever done was cut my own bangs -- badly -- so now I've grown them out lmao.)

Want more? Check out my SakaDays Masterlist!

Comments, reblogs, tags appeachiated~! 🍑

You: A haircut? Didn't Akao give you one a while back? Nagumo: Come on, [f/n]-chan! I need someone more delicate. You: Oh? I see now. You'd rather risk getting your ear cut off than talked off. Nagumo: Ha! You got me there. You: If you want delicate, Tenju's really good. She does all my hair-- Nagumo: No, thanks. With me, I guarantee she'll 'miss' and cut off my head instead. You: Fair enough. (sighs) Fine, what's in it for me though? Nagumo: Brownie points! You: Pass. Nagumo: (pouts) All right, then... a favour! I'll owe you anything! Within reason. You: (narrows eyes) Deal. "Finally, a peaceful haircut," Nagumo muttered under his breath, his body visibly relaxing as your fingers threaded through his hair, the contrasting warmth sending pleasant shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes, leaning back slightly into the chair, allowing you full access. A small sigh escaped Nagumo's lips as he felt your hands working through his hair, the soft snipping of scissors adding to the tranquil atmosphere. He opened his eyes halfway, watching your reflection in the mirror. The sight of your focused expression and the seriousness in your eyes as you concentrated on the task at literal hand stirred something deep within him. As you continued snipping away at his hair, he couldn't resist the urge to tease you. He reached out, his fingers trailing along your wrist. Nagumo retracted his touch as swiftly as he had initiated it, feigning innocence when you shot him a glare through the mirror. Nagumo: (smirks) Careful there, don't wanna end up with bald spots now. You: Don't tempt me. Inwardly, he appreciated that you weren't tempted, instead enjoying the delicate touch of your fingers against his scalp as you worked meticulously.

End note: Can't guarantee how the hair looked afterwards, nor what the favour you end up cashing in is about. It's all up to your...

/ P.S. thanks to @dearsecretlover - I imagine / personally like to think that you / the Reader just left Nagumo's hair out in the wilderness of the JCC campus so birds could make a nest out of it.

Sustainability FTW!

[laweema]

Sandwing in Spore | DOWNLOADABLE

And the next dragon in Spore is Sandwing! There don't seem to be many details, but for Spore it's still a heavy load, game painted dragon for a very long time, and during the next play, apparently a nest of Sandwings appeared, which is why the game crashed when creatures appeared in the field of view.. So if you want to download the model, then keep this in mind, and it's better to set the "gaprop" label so that the creature does not appear in the game.

I also created other WoF dragons in Spore, you can find them here: Rainwing, Seawing, Nightwing.

How to add a creature to your game:

Install the "Dark Injection" modification (version 9.r public Beta 2.3.2) (+ Spore should contain "Galactic Adventures", "Creepy and Cute")

Download a PNG below and place it in the folder "My Creations" > "Creatures" (usually found in Documents) If after placing in folder the creature does not appear, then open Spore in window mode, open the creature editor, and just drag the PNG there.

[makingfanfictionstosleep]

no regrets

a/n : levi x femreader | mature / explicit theme | some characters kept alive because why not it's my au | not for kids.

Story Masterlist : Attack on Titan

MDNI [MINORS DO NOT INTERACT] < previous ... next >

FOURTEEN

The office was dim, lined with towering shelves stacked with leather-bound ledgers and dust-covered files. Commander Nile sat behind his desk, his sharp eyes watching each member of the entering squad with quiet calculation. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing off the tension.

"Section Commander Hange. Captain Levi," Nile greeted curtly. "Scout Officers. I trust you're here with the report?"

Levi stepped forward first, his tone clipped. "We've completed the investigation. The smuggling ring ran deeper than we thought. Corruption inside the Military Police, routed through Scout sympathizers. The ones running weapons and supplies weren't just low-level pawns."

Hange stepped up beside him, setting a thick folder on Nile's desk. "Names, locations, movements, and enough dirty laundry to make a laundress weep. We've got statements and signed confessions from three of them. Enough to light a fire under the Military Tribunal if you want to play that card. Boom—evidence mic drop."

Nile raised a brow as he flipped open the file. "This... will rattle cages."

"That's the point," Levi said flatly.

But Hange raised a hand gently between them. "Let's not oversimplify this. While our team has done thorough groundwork," she shot Levi a side glance, "and some excellent field interrogation thanks to Vice Captain and Petra, we can't assume this is the full depth. These sorts of operations are like cockroach nests—you stomp one and ten more skitter out of sight."

"Which is why the Tribunal needs to act fast and wide," Moblit added. "Before the rats disappear."

And then Cullen spoke, voice too casual. "Still, I think we need to reconsider the implications. If this leaks too fast—"

"Afraid your name might come up?" You asked coolly, arms crossed, eyes locked onto him like you were daring him to lie.

Cullen stiffened. Emilia, who had been standing just behind him, placed a gentle hand on his arm like she could calm the rising heat in the room.

"I was brought into this to assist—" Cullen began, but Levi cut him off.

"You inserted yourself to cover tracks," Levi said, voice low and lethal. "You thought showing up would redirect suspicion. That we'd look the other way."

Hange leaned in slightly toward Moblit, whispering loud enough to be heard, "Oof. That's the tone he uses when he's two seconds from rearranging someone's face."

Moblit gave her a side-glance. "And you're narrating it like it's a theater production."

"Hey, if the cloak fits," Hange said with a grin. "Besides, it's not every day you get front-row seats to Levi's 'I-know-you're-guilty-and-I'm-going-to-ruin-you' stare."

Emilia stepped forward quickly, trying to redirect. "Can we not let this devolve into personal attacks? We're here for the mission."

Levi's glare shifted to her. "You're the last person who should talk about things getting personal."

She paled slightly but held her ground.

Your voice was calm, almost amused. "This mission was never about you, Emilia. Not everything revolves around how you feel."

"You know," Hange chimed in, tone deceptively light, "it's almost funny how quickly someone's priorities shift when they realize Levi doesn't belong to them. Plot twist: he never did! Sorry, did I say that out loud?"

Emilia bristled. Cullen was sweating.

"You're both just playing house," Emilia said, voice venomous now, "pretending your relationship makes you untouchable."

Levi stepped between you and Emilia, shielding you without a word, but the intent was crystal clear.

"No one here is pretending," he said, voice like cold steel. "You want to talk about untouchable? Try me."

There was a long, tense silence.

Then Hange took a measured step forward and her demeanor shifted—still smiling, but sharper. "Enough. We've got bigger things to address than bruised egos and old flames. Cullen, your role in this investigation will be reviewed. Thoroughly. As Section Commander, I'll be overseeing the follow-up inquiries—and I don't intend to leave any stone unturned."

She turned to Nile next, tone shifting to diplomacy wrapped in charm. "Commander Nile, I recommend immediate internal containment. If your own MPs are compromised, you need a sweep—not a whisper campaign. Full transparency will buy you more credibility than trying to sit on this until it explodes."

Nile raised an eyebrow at her, recognizing both the warning and the offer in her words. "Understood. I'll take the report to the Tribunal. I'll make sure to copy Commander Erwin and Commander Pyxis after this reaches the Commander-in-Chief."

"Glad we're speaking the same language," Hange said brightly, unaware of the weight of her recommendation.

The office remained heavy with tension, the silence thick after Hange's sharp words. Nile's fingers tapped a slow rhythm against the desk before he leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as his gaze locked onto Cullen.

"I want to be very clear here," Nile said, voice low and deliberate. "You were not formally assigned to this operation. So I'm going to ask you once— what was your real reason for insisting on joining the mission?"

Cullen shifted, jaw clenched. "I believed my insight would be useful, given my station and familiarity with the region."

"Bullshit," Levi snapped before Nile could respond. "You inserted yourself to mislead, not assist. Your idea of 'insight' was keeping eyes off your own tracks."

Your face was impassive, but her brow twitched faintly—just enough for Moblit to catch it. Moblit's lips pressed into a thin line, glancing briefly at Hange, whose posture had shifted—shoulders squared, a scientist ready to dissect the truth.

Nile turned to Hange next. "Section Commander. I trust your judgment. What's your assessment?"

Hange's grin was gone now. Her voice was all steel. "Cullen's behavior in the field was erratic, overly cautious, and consistently aimed at obstructing our search. The records show his unit rerouted supply logs two months ago. That paperwork alone screams 'cover-up.'"

"You have no proof that I—" Cullen began, but Levi's boot slammed forward, chair legs scraping harshly as he stepped right up to Cullen, eyes ice-cold.

"I've got enough," Levi said darkly. "And I've got no patience left."

Gunther and Eld shifted slightly behind him, tense but quiet. Petra's expression darkened—less from fear, more from barely contained contempt. Oluo crossed his arms, muttering under his breath, "He's lucky Captain Levi hasn't put him through the floor already."

You arched a brow, arms crossed, face carved in stone—but a flicker of amusement crossed your lips when Cullen flinched under Levi's stare. Moblit shot you a look that said he deserves worse, and you gave the barest shrug.

"I demand an internal hearing—" Cullen sputtered.

"You'll get one," Nile said sharply. "And you'll sit through it as a suspect, not a soldier."

Emilia stepped in suddenly, voice honeyed but shaking. "Commander Nile, surely you can't take their word without—"

"You're not off the hook either," Hange cut in, smiling tightly. "You tampered with witness statements and misfiled movement logs."

"I—" Emilia faltered. "That was a mistake, not sabotage."

"Every mistake you made just happened to slow us down," Moblit said flatly. "Coincidence, right?"

Hange turned toward Emilia, voice dangerously calm. "You've been so busy chasing Levi's attention, you forgot how obvious your guilt is. Pro tip: obsession makes for terrible camouflage."

Emilia's face reddened, stung by the precision of Hange's words. You didn't even bother looking at her. You merely leaned on one foot, watching with the same bored expression one might wear during a dull boardroom brawl—though Gunther could swear he saw the corner of your mouth twitch with satisfaction.

Levi's voice broke through again—quiet, lethal. "If either of you so much as moves a toe out of line while we finish this report transfer, I'll make sure you're stationed so deep in the Interior you'll forget sunlight exists."

Cullen finally looked away, sweat glistening at his temple.

Nile folded his hands. "I'll be sending this to the Tribunal. Immediately. Until then, both of you are suspended. Surrender your gear and IDs."

"Commander Nile—" Emilia protested, but he raised a hand.

"This isn't a debate."

As Cullen and Emilia reluctantly handed over their gear, Hange suddenly spoke again—casually, but with a twinkle of amusement.

"Oh! One more thing."

Everyone turned.

Hange held up a folded document—the very one Cullen had been clutching nervously before they entered.

"I intercepted this in the hallway," she said brightly. "Cullen tried to swap the mission logs with doctored reports, but his sleight of hand is terrible. I took the liberty of replacing it with something more... illuminating."

She walked over and handed it to Nile.

"These," she said, "are the original logs—untainted, courtesy of Moblit's backups and a little late-night forensics."

Nile's eyes scanned the papers, his brow darkening with every line. "You tried to deceive this office, Cullen."

Cullen paled. "That's impossible—how did you—?"

"Don't underestimate nerds with insomnia," Hange sang.

Moblit pinched the bridge of his nose, but he was clearly proud.

Levi grunted in satisfaction. "You're done."

You stood tall beside Levi, calm and silent, gaze steady. But as you caught Hange's eye, she gave you a slight, satisfied nod.

Hange exhaled loudly, then muttered with her hands on her hips, "Well. That was satisfying. Better than coffee, actually."

"Don't say that," Moblit whispered beside her. "You'll jinx it."

"Too late," she chirped.

As they turned to leave, Nile called out one last time.

"This report is damning. You may have shaken something bigger than you know."

Levi nodded once. "Good."

And with that, the squad filed out, their footsteps echoing through the stone halls—justice, scandal, and unresolved feelings trailing in their wake.

"What?" Cullen blurted, too fast, too loud.

"Oops." Hange's grin was razor-sharp. "Lucky I'm the paranoid sort. Thought I'd do a little document swapping of my own."

Commander Nile continued to flip through the folder with tight lips and a furrowed brow, then the real ones Hange had intercepted. His expression grew colder with each page.

"These are falsified reports," Nile said, voice cutting through the air like a whip.

"No—no, I didn't—" Cullen stammered. "There must be a mistake."

Levi didn't move, but his glare was suffocating. "The only mistake," he said icily, "was letting you anywhere near this mission."

Emilia's eyes darted nervously between everyone, her forced smile finally faltering. "Let's not be dramatic. I'm sure there's an explanation—"

"Of course there is," Hange cut in sweetly, crossing her arms as her tone turned sharper. "Like what I said earlier... Cullen was trying to cover his tracks. He was neck-deep in the smuggling operation. His presence on the mission was a blatant attempt to redirect suspicion away from the Interior MPs."

Moblit stepped forward and placed the mission report beside the forged documents. "Our squad found evidence directly linking certain Military Police officers to illegal distribution of weapons and supplies. The real documents show everything."

"I want to see proof," Nile snapped.

"Then read them." Your voice was steady and cold as ice. "You'll see Cullen's signature on one of the supply ledgers. And his handwriting. There's no denying it."

Cullen tried to lunge for the files, but Levi moved first.

With a sharp crack, Cullen's wrist was slammed against the desk and pinned. "Touch them again, and I break your hand," the Captain said flatly, unmoving even as Cullen winced.

"I didn't think it'd get this ugly," Nile muttered, finally looking up from the damning evidence.

"Corruption usually is," Hange replied lightly, though her eyes were steel. "Now, how would you like to proceed, Commander?"

There was a long silence.

Then Nile let out a slow breath and turned to two of his guards stationed just inside the door. "You'll both be detained. I'll oversee the tribunal myself."

Emilia opened her mouth, but Hange held up a finger before she could speak. "Don't. Whatever you're about to say will just make everyone in this room want to throw up."

Moblit muffled a cough—half-choke, half-laugh. Petra and Gunther didn't bother hiding their smirks. Eld just nodded once, slow and deliberate, like he'd been waiting all day to see that man taken down.

You remained still, unreadable, but your gaze locked on Emilia's face with something cold and final. And Emilia, for once, had no witty comeback. Just an empty look of disbelief as everything is crumbling down right in front of her.

Levi looked at Nile. "Are we done here?"

"For now," Nile said, eyes flicking from Cullen's retreating form to the pile of evidence. "But I want the rest of your squad ready for testimony. And I expect a full debrief with names."

"You'll get it." Hange smiled. "Every dirty name in that ledger."

The tension slowly lifted, the weight of justice finally shifting. But the mood was far from light.

Because this wasn't the end.

It was only the beginning.

Cullen's face had gone a shade of crimson that clashed violently with his pristine uniform, even as Emilia tried to calm him down, he jerked against her hold, practically seething.

"You think this proves anything?" he spat, glaring at Levi. "You're just a thug who got lucky. Don't pretend you're better than the rest of us."

Levi didn't blink. "Lucky?" he echoed, stepping closer—so close Cullen had to tilt his head up to meet his eyes. "You think crawling into a corrupt system and fucking it from the inside out is clever? You're not just a coward—you're sloppy."

Cullen sneered. "You think you're so high and mighty now that you've got a title and a girl on your arm—"

That was a mistake.

The room practically stilled as Levi grabbed the front of Cullen's jacket and slammed him back against the edge of the desk hard enough to rattle everything on it. "Watch your mouth."

"Captain," Moblit said cautiously, not stepping forward but clearly alert.

But Levi didn't throw a punch. He didn't need to. His voice dropped to a low, venom-laced murmur. "You've already lost everything. Don't make me give you a reason to lose your teeth too."

There was a heavy pause.

Then—

"Whew," Hange exhaled, hand to her chest like she'd just watched the best drama of the year. "That's one way to assert dominance. Someone's been spending all his free time learning how to deliver full emasculation in under five seconds." She gave Cullen a slow, mocking clap. "Really thought you could swing your ego around in front of Captain Levi and win? That was brave. Stupid, but brave."

"God, you're annoying," Cullen hissed, eyes darting to Hange as his face twisted in frustration.

"And you," Hange said sweetly, leaning in just a little with a faux-whisper, "have spent so long trying to get her attention. I mean, honestly—it's almost cute how hard you try. But Levi's Vice Captain? She's got taste. And Captain Levi just keeps one-upping you, doesn't he? Even now."

The smirk she threw was pure mischief.

Petra made a sound between a laugh and a cough behind her hand. Gunther choked on air. Oluo let out a bark of laughter that he poorly disguised as a cough when Emilia shot him a look that could've incinerated a tree.

Emilia's fury was barely masked. Her jaw clenched so tightly the muscle in her cheek twitched. "This is inappropriate—"

"Oh, sweetie," Hange cut in brightly, "what's really inappropriate is your taste in men."

You said nothing, but the slight arch of your brow and the way you crossed your arms suggested you weren't disagreeing.

Cullen's shoulders sagged slightly, the arrogance crumbling in real time as everyone in the room witnessed the collapse of both his composure and reputation.

Levi let go of his collar with a little shove and turned away like Cullen wasn't even worth the energy it took to look at him.

"I believe we're done here," Hange said, adjusting her glasses and walking toward the door like she owned the room. "Come on everyone —I think we've thoroughly ruined someone's day."

"Thoroughly," Moblit echoed under his breath, hiding a smirk.

As they left, Emilia's voice rang out one last time, sharp and desperate: "This isn't over."

You turned slightly, offering a glance over her shoulder with zero warmth. "No. But you are."

The door clicked shut behind them.

And that silence—thick with humiliation and the aftertaste of defeat—was all Cullen and Emilia had left.

As the door shut behind them, the hallway outside Commander Nile's office buzzed with low murmurs—Levi's squad sharing smirks, Moblit exchanging a look with Hange that said, 'Did that really just happen?' and Hange humming like she was proud of herself for setting the whole theater ablaze.

But they weren't quite in the clear yet.

"I hope you're proud of yourselves," Emilia snapped, striding after them with her usual dramatic flair, heels clicking too loud in the corridor.

You turned slowly, expression unreadable save for the smallest tilt of amusement at the corner of your mouth. "Proud? I'd say relieved. It's exhausting pretending to tolerate incompetence."

Emilia's nostrils flared. "You think you're so perfect, don't you?"

You smiled, but it was cool—unbothered. "Not perfect. Just... competent. Respected. And, well—chosen."

That landed.

Levi stood a step behind you, arms crossed as his eyes flicked over you. Calm. Controlled. Commanding the room in your own way. Your chin lifted with quiet defiance, stance confident. Hair sleek, lips curved, every inch of you practically glowing after putting Emilia in her place. Sexy as hell.

Hange bit back a snort, nudging Moblit with an elbow. "I'd be taking notes if I were her," she murmured, loud enough to be heard.

Emilia opened her mouth to respond, but you were already stepping forward, slow and deliberate, voice velvet and steel.

"I don't need to compete with you, Emilia," you said lightly. "That would imply you're actually in the running."

Oluo's jaw dropped. Petra blinked, stunned. Gunther had to turn his face away to hide the grin.

"Vice Captain," Levi said, voice low as he moved beside you, his hand gently touching the small of your back, "we're leaving."

You didn't look at him, just gave Emilia one last lingering glance—cool and graceful—before pivoting on your heel and walking off with Levi at your side.

And gods, that walk.

Levi's eyes dipped, just for a second, taking in the sway of your hips, the graceful line of your stride, that effortless confidence. It wasn't just the things you said. It was how you carried yourself. Like you didn't have to try — you just were.

He smirked faintly to himself, satisfied.

Behind them, Emilia stood frozen, red creeping into her cheeks. The burn of humiliation was written all over her face.

Cullen, still guarded, muttered bitterly under his breath, "Unbelievable..."

And Hange, never one to let a dramatic exit go un-commented, added brightly, "Ten points to Vice Captain for the knockout. That's going in the official mission report under 'collateral damage.'"

Moblit groaned quietly, "Please don't actually write that."

"No promises!"

The group continued down the corridor, a mixture of smug pride, stunned amusement, and sweet, sweet vindication trailing behind them.

Before the echo of their footsteps had fully faded down the corridor, two Interior Police officers stepped forward from the adjacent hall, uniforms crisp, expressions stoic.

"Commander Nile's orders," one said curtly, eyes locked on Cullen. "You're both to come with us for questioning and detainment until further notice."

"What?" Cullen balked, chest tightening as reality started to sink in. "You can't—there's no proof—I demand to speak with—"

"There's more than enough," the other officer cut in sharply. "Now move."

Emilia took a step back, lips parting. "You're detaining me? For what?! I've done nothing wrong!"

"Conspiracy. Tampering. Interfering with an active military investigation," the first officer listed off without so much as a blink. "And that's just the start."

"I—no, wait—this is a mistake," Cullen stammered, now visibly sweating. His eyes darted to where you and Levi had disappeared, as if hoping one of them would turn back and argue in his defense.

They didn't.

"Start walking," the guard snapped, grabbing Cullen by the arm.

As they were led down the opposite corridor, Emilia hissed under her breath, "This is your fault—"

Cullen yanked his arm away. "My fault? You couldn't shut your mouth! You blew it, Emilia!"

"Don't speak to me like—!"

The hallway swallowed their bickering as the officers pushed them forward, their angry voices fading beneath the echo of steel-toed boots and locking doors.

Justice, it seemed, marched swiftly in the Interior.

A few moments after Cullen and Emilia were escorted out, the tension still lingering like smoke, one of the Interior officers returned and approached the remaining group and gave a sharp salute. "Commander Nile has made arrangements for all of you."

Levi raised an eyebrow, arms still crossed as he glanced sideways at Hange, who was still quietly grinning like she'd just won a bet no one else knew was happening.

The officer continued, "You'll be staying at the Interior guest quarters reserved for high-ranking officials. Your presence is required at tomorrow's trial. Commander Nile will be conducting the session, and you will be called upon to provide formal testimony regarding the mission findings, the black market trail, and the individuals involved in the cover-up."

You exchanged a glance with Moblit, who nodded slightly—already mentally cataloging every piece of evidence and document Hange had slipped into their report.

Petra, standing behind Levi, shifted subtly, her brows knitting in concern. Eld and Gunther stood tall, more stoic, while Oluo muttered under his breath, "Guess no rest for the heroes, huh?"

The officer added, "You'll be escorted to your accommodations shortly. Security is tight for the night. No one in or out unless approved by Nile himself."

"Fantastic," Hange said brightly, clapping her hands once with a mock flourish. "A sleepover party with the Scouts in the Interior. We'll bring the truth and the wine."

Moblit sighed behind her. "There's no wine, Hange."

"I can dream," she replied, then turned toward Levi. "Looks like we're sticking around for the show."

"Tch," Levi muttered. "Better be worth it."

You just exhaled softly, arms folded, your eyes lingering a moment on the corridor where Cullen and Emilia had vanished. There was a strange satisfaction knowing they weren't walking away from their crimes.

"Let's get it over with," you said, calm but firm.

The officer nodded and stepped aside, gesturing for them to follow.

And so the Scouts moved out—worn, but upright. Ready to testify. Ready to fight with truth as their blade.

Even if it meant sleeping in enemy territory for one more night.

TAGS LIST : @raginginferno267

Photo grabbed from Pinterest, made by @ychpo4mak_ai (follow on ig more more)

A/N : I have no systematic shit for my tags list yet. Just comment if you wanted to be tagged. I'll think of something in the future if there'd be more ppl who wanna be tagged. Thanks for reading ^^

[flootzavut]

WIP folder game

I was tagged by @panur and @underthebluerain

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Tag as many people as you have wips. People send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

... all the WIPs? Okay I'm making an executive decision to make it all the somewhat active WIPs or we'll be here all day 😅 I feel like a fair number of these will actually be familiar to the people reading those fics, at least, 'cause I named the chapters/files sensibly for my own sanity.

consideration

Jack bumping into Jadzia in Garak's shop, her teasing him.

off leash 11

encore 3

where they met is where they lie

Vesp: You know what would really piss Jaskier off? If I got to fuck you before he did

TWN vignettes

Vespula teasing Yen because she obviously wants to sleep with Jaskier, and Jaskier being like No I Don't.

jadlian julzia

killing game

marry me a little

Post mountain, alternate Jask and Yen POVs of watching their soul marks from Geralt

Voyager returning from her unplanned trip into the Gamma Quadrant is news all over the Federation.

Meatball Psychiatry

Through the Looking Glass

Offensive

The first time Aziraphale touches Crawly there, they're still in the Garden.

"You won't break me, Sam."

Okay yeah I'm stopping before this gets ridiculous and I end up not remembering which files to look in if people ask 🤣 I have... too many WIPs, this is likely not even half, but it's (most of) the ones I've had a serious poke at in '24. Eep.

I'm terrible at remembering URLs 😬 so this will be a little random; if you're like "aww hell no" then feel free to ignore 😂 but also if you're like "but why didn't floot tag me" then please consider this tagging you, yes you personally, I'm preemptively tagging you 😘

@harplings-nest @brevityis @elysianholly @stiney @alleyesonthehindenburg @agentkalgibbs @naumaxia-art @karolincki @janjan-the-ninth @whatkindofnameisvolta @onekisstotakewithme @froginabogg @gavilansblog @remyfire @agirlwithachakram @vanillatumbleweedscoffee @swords-n-spindles @blvckwidow

[according2thelore]

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE the LS/ES Interactions between the ES!brothers and their LS!brothers habits!!!

May have missed if the asked is already mentioned in the masterpost, but have you done an ask in reverse with the LS!brothers noticing ES!brothers habits?

Like envision ES!Dean singing in the showers, and it echos down the hallway where LS!Dean cringes is like, "Damn, do I really sound like that?????"

Or LS!Sam sees how ES!Sam talks down to ES!Dean or has a 'holier than thou' attitude with LS!Dean and LS!Sam with a white knuckled grip contemplates on whether to leave it or to drag him to the other wing for a 'talk'.

ES!Dean is not a slob, but his not tidy either, and LS!Dean want to almost murder him for the mile high dirty dishes in the sink 🔪🔪🔪???!!!

LS!Sam wants to give ES!Sam a good whack at the back of the head when he hears ES!Sam verbally judge ES!Dean japanese hentai stash when he KNOWS the the very specific troupe on all the VHS tapes/CDs ES!Sam kept under lock and key at their Stanford dorm, and not to even mention the nesting dolls of folders leading to a password locked file in their shared bunker laptop 💻

Anyway, I'm just so obsessed with ES/LS!!!!!!

hi, monet!

GAH i love this!! before they agreed that they shouldn't have both an ES&LS version of the same person out in public at the same time, 100% LS!Dean is kind of gobsmacked (and a little proud, but mostly annoyed because LS!Sam looks like he's about to bite straight through the inside of his cheek) when ES!Dean leans against the bar counter and tries to flirt with the same bartender for over an hour. he's amused because it's good to know his game wasn't completely imagined, he's irritated because he's drawing attention to himself and acting mostly like an idiot, and he keeps looking over at both sams who are very purposefully staring at each other's shoulders instead of at ES!Dean making the bartender throw her head back in laughter.

ES!Dean is not used to having a space that he has to clean. since he was old enough to walk, he's never spent more than eight months in one place at a time, and is pretty damn used to his spaces only being for a few days at most. he leaves his dirty towels on the bathroom floor, keeps his bed unkempt, and leaves dishes piled sky-high in the kitchen. the only piece of him that's organized is his duffle, sitting perfectly neat and half-packed on the chest at the end of his bed.

it drives LS!Dean NUTS. he's become a bit of a homebody in his old age and a lot of a control freak, so he likes having his space look nice. now, he's not tucking in his sheet corners like sammy likes to, or mopping the floors like cinder-fucking-ella. occasionally, he leaves messes on purpose to mess with sam--like his socks in the sink--but for the most part he likes a little law and order in his life. but ES!Dean just does not care at ALL. he leaves his shit everywhere and it drives LS!Dean up the wall because there is a system!!! he doesn't mind doing LS!Sam's dishes if he's already in there doing his own but he will be DAMNED if he cleans up that little twerp's mess.

he ends up tucking ES!Dean's messy dishes and wet towels into ES!Dean's unmade bed, and waits with delight until he hears ES!Dean's unholy shrieking that night when he flops down onto his bed and into a wet sludge of discarded pasta and moist towels.

ES!Dean scream-shouts "rooster" in the shower, and LS!Dean is about to rip his hair out because it echoes down the halls at top volume, the bunker only serving to amplify every slap of his feet and vocal guitar solo. on ES!Dean's third time starting the song over, LS!Dean can't take it anymore and storms down the hallway, ready to knock the kid out if he has to. why the fuck is this shower taking so goddamn long?

LS!Sam is leaning against the wall outside of the shower room looking haunted, eyes suspiciously vacant and glassy when he looks up to meet LS!Dean's eyes. dean can't remember the last time he sang like this, and clearly, sam can't either. LS!Sam puts a hand on his chest when LS!Dean goes to storm past him and shakes his head, mouth pulling up a little at the corners. dean snorts. whatever. you owe me, he grumbles, and LS!Sam pats him on the chest once, a dismissal.

LS!Sam notices that ES!Sam taps on things. a lot. a lot, a lot. if he has a pen in his hand, he's tapping it on the table. and it's not just in one constant rhythm either, because maybe then LS!Sam could tune it out. nooooo. it stops and starts, then gets faster when he reads something interesting, then slowing down again when he realizes it was a false lead. LS!Sam barely remembers having the habit at all, but clearly it's something he doesn't do anymore. he slams his hand down on ES!Sam's fist one afternoon, already tapping away at the pen. cut it out, he growls, and ES!Sam clearly sees something he doesn't like. he drops the pen, but he scowls at his book until dinner.

i was reading this book the other day, ES!Dean starts, one afternoon. he and ES!Sam are pulled into conversation next to the stove, as ES!Dean cooks some ground beef.

you can read? ES!Sam snarks, reaching over and grabbing a slice of the orange dean is eating and popping it into his mouth. LS!Sam grinds his teeth together. he's sitting at the table, chopping up tomatoes, and he watches as ES!Dean's shoulders slump a little.

oh haha very funny, ES!Dean deadpans. it's not a big deal. they rag on each other all the time, but LS!Sam now knows just how much that particular line of joking makes dean feel worthless, looked down on. like sam is calling him stupid white trash instead of trying to poke fun at how much he prefers punching things to sitting with lore for hours. LS!Sam barely stops himself from saying something. he tastes barely-there copper at the back of his mouth and thinks he might've bitten his cheek too hard.

they find a case down in texas about a cowboy ghost killing ranchands so they take a little road trip. ES!Sam makes his fifth disparaging joke about dean's weird thing about cowboys and LS!Sam--who has in fact bucked up and worn the assless chaps for dean for one of his birthdays and LS!Dean reacted like he was feral and didn't stop until LS!Sam literally couldn't come anymore--turns to him and says three words: "lock and key."

LS!Sam can watch the light in his eyes die in real time. he knows that around this time, he had a folder of downloaded cock cage porn hidden in a folder hidden in a folder hidden in a folder. ES!Sam does not say a single word other than "duck" when the ghost is coming at them for the rest of the trip. cocky little dick had it coming.

thank you so much for this ask!! i had a ton of fun writing with it! <3

-lizzy

[ES/LS verse masterlist/explanation]