#I had to dig through timeline stuff for this one to get in the right headspace

[dearestspirit]

comfort

-> scaramouche x gn!reader

-> fluff, takes place when scaramouche was still a harbinger, reader is also a harbinger

-> wc: 1038

-> note: this is probably ooc, i just like thinking about scaramouche having a soft spot for reader and this is how i (sorta) think he'd act! also if i got any fatui/harbinger lore/timeline stuff wrong, sorry <3 also i'm considering writing a part two for this that takes into account the sumeru lore for him? not sure yet!

the door to your office suddenly bursts open, whacking against the wall and nearly coming off the hinges. in shock, you leap from your chair and wince as it clatters to the floor. scaramouche storms in, face red and fuming. steam practically billowed out of his ears. his fists were clenched at his sides, and you were sure his nails were digging into the skin of his palms. strongly exhaling through his nose, he slammed the door shut behind him. a few moments of silence pass, scaramouche staring at the floor as he tries to ease his breathing.

"scaramouche, what's going on?" you ask, keeping your voice gentle so as to not disturb him further.

it wasn't odd at all for him to come into your office like this– somehow, despite his discontent about it, you two had gotten close during your time as harbingers. while he had never vocalized it, you knew your presence had a calming effect on him.

"these harbingers, they're worms beneath me," he spits, words sounding lethally venomous. "dottore's lucky his work is important to my goals, otherwise this pitiful organization would be another pile of ash in my path."

"okay, that doesn't quite answer my question," you sigh, taking a few steps towards him. "how about you take a seat?"

scaramouche exhales again, anger in his eyes. he opens his mouth, locking his gaze onto yours. something in his eyes flicker, intensity waning. scoffing, he closes his mouth, shuffling over to one of the couches in the room. with a grunt, he slumps into the cushions. arms crossed and legs spread, he sits with a sort of arrogance– and hesitance– to his posture. shaking your head, you go to stand in front of him.

"let's not forget that without this 'pitiful organization' you would have only a fraction of the power you do now. look, i know you don't particularly like working with the other harbingers or our agents, but… you're not getting anywhere alone. how many of these missions could you have completed alone?" you tell him, tapping your foot.

scaramouche rolls his eyes, turning to look away from you. tipping the brim of his hat, he covers the upper portion of his face so you can't see his eyes. "if anything, it's the opposite. those harbingers, those agents? they'd be lost little puppies without someone to boss them around. you're too… soft." he squirms uncomfortably in his seat, as if you had read right through him. as if he wasn't sure if he really believed what he was saying.

"we all come from rough backgrounds. being bossed around isn't the only way to get through to people," you take a seat next to him, forcing him to take up less space on the couch as he scoots his leg to the side to make room for you. it's a small gesture, but it makes you smile that he tries at all to accommodate you. you rest a hand on his shoulder, and surprisingly he doesn't flinch away from the touch. "i know things aren't easy for you, but when are things ever easy for anyone? there's more to life than just… power."

"whatever," he tsks. "why are you even in the fatui if that's how you feel? you must know that the rest of us are all here for some scraps of power and control."

"sometimes people don't have anywhere else to go," you mumble, eyes downcast to the tiled floor. "when you can't find anywhere else that wants you, you sort of resort to wherever you can make yourself useful."

scaramouche turns towards you, a hint of surprise in his stare. "you…" he clears his throat, the sentence feeling strange in his mouth. "you shouldn't talk about yourself like that. it pains me to even consider saying this aloud, but you're one of the only capable harbingers here. you'd be useful anywhere." he can feel the very distinct sensation of warmth prickling up the length of his neck, hoping that any redness isn't visible to you.

"that's… actually pretty sweet, coming from you," a chuckle leaves your lips without you even thinking about it. "can i tell you a secret, scaramouche?"

"do you expect me to keep it?" he squints, trying to decipher your motives.

"i guess you can do whatever you want with it when i tell you," you shrug. "i know you aren't fond of doing what others say, and i'm not expecting you to care about my personal feelings."

scaramouche's squint deepens, turning to look out the windows. "if that's what you'd like to think. tell me, then."

you nod, leaning a little closer into his side so you can whisper. "i don't really want to be part of the fatui." you tell him, voice hushed.

he's quick to turn and face you, eyes wide. he was certain that you saying something like this– and him knowing– was bound to get one or both of you in trouble somehow. still, he's able to mask his expression almost instantaneously. he twists his body, now sitting cross legged to face you. "i will keep your secret. on one condition."

"okay… what's the condition?" you question, voice full of uncertainty.

"when i'm granted the power i rightly deserve," he says, slightly hesitant. "you'll join me, and we'll leave."

"what?" you ask, shocked.

"tch," he clicks his tongue, standing up in a rush. "forget it."

"no, wait," you leap up, grabbing at his wrist. "i want to! i want to go with you. the only reason i haven't figured out some way to leave yet is, well, you." your voice trails off, a sudden shyness overcoming you.

"i'll give you more details when i can, then." he wriggles his arm out of your grip, though his fingers graze at the skin there, as if to savor the touch. grumbling, he shakes his head. "just… keep doing your work, or something. i'm leaving."

"sure, scaramouche." you chuckle, watching as he hurriedly steps out of the room. closing the door behind him, you sigh with a smile.

whether or not he'd keep his word was to be seen, yet you couldn't deny the sense of warmth and trust you felt for him.

#scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

[solradguy]

Mr. Badguy I have a question as a guilty gear lore baby. I have been told sol/ky is problematic and I do not know why I fear. Could you please explain

Oh boy. I'm probably not the best person to ask about what ships are and aren't problematic because I honestly... just don't have the energy to care about it that much, it's like infinitely easier to block/blacklist and then move on. I don't know how people have the free time to get as worked up about it as they do.

Anyway. So, Ky's age before Missing Link (the earliest in the timeline of the games' stories) is generally the biggest problem. He was 20 in ML and a teenager through the Crusades. I think he was probably at least 18 near the end of the Crusades right before Sol left but that's pushing it. Anything with Ky and Order Sol's bad weird. I won't argue that at all, Ky was a kid and Sol was very much an adult, on top of the physical and mental power imbalance between them. Not good. Luckily, I really only see HOS/Ky stuff from the really early fandom (<2006) and IIRC their ages were still pretty vague back then so I'm just gonna chalk it up to no one knowing, especially in the EN fandom where it was a lot harder to find/get official information.

Between Missing Link to like late GGX/early GGXX I don't see what the problem with shipping them then is; they were both adults at that point and there wasn't even the power dynamic between them that there was during their Holy Order days. This, I think, really just comes down to personal reasons for not liking it. Which is fair.

After GGXX it gets... complicated.... Ky marries Sol's daughter but it's vague on when exactly Sol pieced it together that he even had a kid and that it was Dizzy, of all people. Ky definitely did not know she was Sol's kid until at least like partway through Xrd, when they both kind of put the pieces together and had a crisis over it. So shipping them after this point, between the timelines of Overture through Strive, you've got the issue of Sol now being Ky's father-in-law.

But the canon never straight up says Dizzy is Sol's kid (it is VERY HEAVILY implied though) and Sol and Ky both end up being dads together for Sin...?? It's like ASW is playing gay chicken with whether or not Sol and Ky are still shippable from an ethical standpoint lol Whatever that saying is about having a cake and eating it too, etc.

I saw the email for this ask this morning and I presented the Sol/Ky situation to my mom as if they were real people (she doesn't know anything about GG) and she was like, "That's a hell of a love triangle but I guess if the guy (Ky) and the daughter (Dizzy) got divorced and the daughter is alright with it, and it's consensual between the men, then it's weird but it's not as bad as some other relationships I've seen."

That's kind of how I feel about it too...? It's messy as fuck lmfao But I guess if there's a way to like write it so that Dizzy doesn't end up needing lifetime therapy then like... go for it....? I guess....???

I don't ship Sol/Ky because I think their dynamic is WAAAYYYY more interesting keeping them as rivals-turned-friends, and I like Dizzy too much; there's too big a chance of her ending up getting completely devastated by it. But as far as "problematic" Guilty Gear ships go, Sol/Ky's in the like... "People are wasting time arguing about this?" tier, imo. It being Thee biggest GG ship throughout the series' entire history is something to be considered, too. It's unavoidable, even the official art contributes sometimes. I often wonder why they decided to make it weird by throwing Dizzy into the mix because I know that, from digging through old forum archives, that change made a lot of people furious hahah

Disclaimer because the reading comprehension on this website is abysmal: I DON'T SHIP SOL/KY. IT'S FUNNY AS A JOKE BECAUSE IT'S AWKWARD BUT I DON'T SHIP IT IN SERIOUS CONTEXTS BECAUSE IT'S JUST NOT THAT GREAT A SHIP AND THE FATHER-IN-LAW THING MAKES ME A LITTLE UNCOMFORTABLE.

#asks #Sighing as I yet again walk into the lion's den posting something like this

[sherifftillman]

busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

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Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 5.8k

A/N: Thanks for all the love on chapter 1, gang! This one's a real slow burn so I hope you're all in for the ride, haha. Also, I had picked the date Ralph arrived at random based on the general timeline I have for this fic, but it was only when making the fake text screenshots that I realised that the following day may have been a major event in the UK, so I'll leave it up to you to decide whether or not Ralph was responsible for that one lmao.

Also!! Big, beeg love to everyone in the jq server for enabling, encouraging and basically co-writing this whole premise, but especially to @hawkinsbanishedhero whose one-off typo, as featured in this chapter, inspired the absolute monolith this fic has become. <3

You wake up to a shooting pain in your back and an ache down one side. You groan as you stir into consciousness; for years you’ve always been able to pride yourself on the ability to sleep literally anywhere perfectly fine, you’d never understood why your friends always complain about back pains and knee pains when you’re all still relatively young, but now you get it.

You manage to pull yourself to standing and stiffly make your way to the kitchen to make yourself some breakfast. You look over at your closed bedroom door, wondering whether to wake Ralph up before you go to work. You don’t have to be there for opening, at least, but you do hope he’s not one to lay in for too long. Besides, the earlier you can get in to catch up on admin stuff before Head Office complain at you, the better.

As though he could read your thoughts, the door opens and a very sleepy Ralph emerges, rubbing his eyes to adjust them to the sunlit room. It’s positively adorable. “Morning,” you smile at him. “Sleep well?”

“Ah, good morning!” Even through his yawns, his voice remains very prim and proper. “I slept delightfully, apart from the occasional din coming from outside. I only noticed that when I was already awake, though.”

“Yeah, perks of being in South London, police sirens are pretty much 24/7 here. You get used to it,” you shrug, and Ralph looks horrified, ignoring your silent offer to make him a cup of tea.

“So, crime just happens? Everywhere? And it’s all just par for the course?!” he asks in shock. You nod, and he frowns. “I don’t think I want to leave the house.”

“You might need to someday, bud,” you point out, still making him one just in case. “I need to go to work, and you might end up going stir-crazy in here all the while,” you gesture at the four walls of your living-kitchen space.

“Yes, it is rather… Cramped in here,” Ralph comments with an upturned nose, though he takes the cup of tea that you slide over to him happily enough.

“Yeah, well. This is how far £900 a month gets you,” You shrug as you take your first sip, and Ralph chokes on his.

“I beg your pardon?!” he sputters out. “Ni- Nine hundre- How much is that really worth?!”

Nodding silently, you hold a finger up and take your phone out. As seems to be routine whenever you and Ralph learn about the stark differences between your time and his, you take your turn to react, almost choking and spitting out your mouthful. “Nineteen pounds?!”

“Well, that still sounds rather extortionate to me!” Ralph replies with wide eyes.

You walk over to where you had last thrown off your jacket and dig out your purse, taking out a £20 note and handing it to Ralph. “This, right here, would have been enough in your day to pay for this whole flat for a month.”

Again, Ralph scrunches his nose in disgust. “I rather feel as though you’re being swindled.” He holds the money up, turning it over and over in his hands. “Is this what money looks like nowadays?!”

“Yeah! Here,” you empty the monetary contents of your purse out onto the kitchen counter. You explain what each note and coin equate to. “I’ll leave them here in case you need to go to the store and get something. C’mere,” you wave him over to the window, pointing down below to a row of shop fronts at the bottom of another estate of flats. “There, on the corner, that’s a supermarket. It’s like, a greengrocers, a pharmacy and a clothing store, all in one. Then, next to it is the gardening store, my number one money sink.” You gesture to the houseplants that adorn the room.

“You do grow a lot of plants,” Ralph muses, smiling to himself as he gently holds a monstera leaf.

“All legal stuff, I promise,” you laugh. “But, yeah. Landlords don’t allow us to have pets, and so I’ve gotta have something to take care of. Of course, if I’d have known I’d be adopting a man born in the Victorian era, I might not have spent so much…”

Ralph, now more awake, bounces on the balls of his feet. “I-I can take care of them if you would like! Our gardener used to teach me all about how to water plants. It came in handy, being out in the garden sometimes. Much… quieter, out there,” Ralph falters, running the leaves between his fingers.

You place a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, “Wanna talk about it?”

He takes a deep breath in as his shoulder tenses up under your touch. “Oh, no, it’s quite alright, you’ve got enough on your plate as it is!”

“Okay. Well, if you ever want to talk about anything, I’m more than happy to hear you out,” you rub your palm against him in a single circular motion before pulling away. “Don’t feel like you have to bottle things up around me, okay?”

Ralph chuckles, though there’s no amusement in it. “Oh, it’s fine, honestly, I’ve no trouble with bottling things up. Rather, it’s the fact that I don’t that leads to most of my problems!”

“Okay. You know what you’re happy to share, I’m not gonna push you. But don’t make yourself sad unnecessarily, ‘kay?” You hold your little finger out. “Here, I want you to pinky promise me.”

This time, Ralph does crack a smile. “Pinky… Promise?”

“Yeah!” you grin. “Like, you know how usually big decisions are made with a handshake to make them official?” Ralph nods. “Well, little decisions that still require a commitment are usually made with a pinky promise. It’s like a handshake, but only linking your little fingers. So, pinky promise me you’ll always tell me if there’s something I can help you with? This whole mess is scary for both of us. But we’re in it together.” You smile softly at Ralph, and he returns it. In the early morning light, you can see freckles bouncing off of his face. Of course he has freckles.

Ralph sticks out his little finger, too, and you wrap yours around his for a moment before letting go. “That was… Fun,” his ears tinge a slight pink. 

“It was!” you grin. “Now, what would you like for breakfast? I’ve got cereal, I could cook you some eggs and bacon. Or, ooh, there’s one more shop I can show you!” You point out the last one in the row. “That’s a bakery. We can go pick up some fresh pastries if you wanted those, too.”

“Whatever is easiest for you,” Ralph insists. You pour him some cereal and milk in a bowl, stick a spoon in it and hand it to him, offering him to join you on the sofa.

“Okay, so while I’m gone, I obviously don’t expect you to sit here twiddling your thumbs until you get back. Now, this thing here, it’s called a television. Sometimes called a telly, sometimes called a TV. This,” you brandish the control at him, “is called a remote, it’s how you control it. You know how you could project films and stuff onto a screen, in your day?” Ralph nods. “This does that without needing a projector. And you can get all sorts of shows and films on there. I wouldn’t recommend you watch the news, just because… Well, you know why,” you pull a face and he nods slowly. “But I’m sure you’ll find something you’ll like, there’s enough out there, that’s for sure.”

“Okay, so the T… V… I can watch people perform on here?” Ralph asks, and you nod. You show him how to flick through channels, and his eyes light up. “Fascinating!”

“And if you want to listen to music, there’s a special speaker, here,” you point to your Amazon Echo. “It has a name, and you can talk to it. So you could say, Alexa, play me some jazz,” you hold your finger up to tell Ralph to wait as the speaker flashes blue.

“Playing songs from playlist Jazz Classics,” the smooth robotic voice tells you, and sure enough, the room fills with the sounds of brass and percussion working in an upbeat harmony.

Ralph absolutely giggles in delight. “Marvellous! What a spectacular creation! And I could ask it to play any sort of music?”

You nod, telling the Echo to stop. “You can even tell it to play music based on what mood you’re in. So, if you need to wallow for a bit, you can have some sad songs to listen to, or if you’re feeling high-energy, you can ask for songs to match that. That should tide you over,” you nod as you take his bowl and yours to the kitchen sink. “I’ll be back around lunchtime to drop you off some more clothes and I’ll get you some lunch too, but if you want a snack in between, feel free to make yourself a sandwich, or…” Another quick Google search tells you toasters were around in 1926. “Or toast! You could make some toast, if you wanted. We’ll go food shopping soon and get more specific snacks for you, but I gotta get going.” You throw your jacket on.

“But what about your money? What if you have to pay for something?” Ralph asks, concerned.

“Don’t worry, mate, I’ve got it covered. That’s yours, yeah?” You point to the kitchen counter. “You can use it however you want when we go out. Just… Don’t go crazy, okay? I don’t exactly break the bank.” You throw your jacket on and wave him goodbye, “See you at lunch!”

Once you leave the flat, Ralph suddenly feels completely stranded. He tries to drown it out by pressing buttons on the “remote” until something shows up. It’s a show about people buying houses that are bare, and fixing them up to sell on. Ralph feels as though they end up looking worse, but he understands why he would feel that way. He just doesn’t understand the modern style, that’s all. It’s not their fault that taste clearly deteriorated over time. Then he watches a show all about “antiques”, though again, it takes him a while to acclimate to recognising certain pieces of furniture as items he’s witnessed being sold in stores just before he left for the army. He wonders, if he keeps watching, will there be an item that once belonged in Penbury House?

His mind wanders back to that comment you had made yesterday. Penbury House. A home that had been in the family name for generations upon generations, now a lowly bookstore. What could have possibly led to it being lost? Were there truly no more Penburys? Had Victoria gone absolutely mad and lost the entire family fortune? Was his accidental trip through time the catalyst to the death of the Penbury name as it was once known? Well, wouldn’t Mother and Father have a lot to say about that. Typical Ralph, can’t hold onto anything. Not even the estate tied to him by his last name, the only thing giving him any purpose.

He realises he needs a distraction. Something to keep him busy. You had mentioned something about toast, the kitchen staff had been very excited to receive a toaster oven not long before Ralph left. He remembers helping the cook, who didn’t know how to read, understand the instructions. It only toasts one side at a time, Ralph knows this. Spurred on by his pride, he finds the bread and puts it in the toaster. 

As he’s trying to find the right button, switch, dial, lever - there’s so many extras on here, which one does he touch? - Ralph begins to get overwhelmed again. Echoes of his parents’ quick deflections, telling him to go ask the staff. The staff telling him that they’re far too busy to entertain children - other than the nanny, of course, who also made it very clear that she was only tending to Ralph’s needs because she was paid to do so. Victoria finding the art of making friends becoming second nature to her, and yet not to him for some reason. It’s not fair, he was just like her. So what made people want to be her friend and not Ralph’s?

Head swimming as the toast pops up, he remembers to turn it around to make sure it cooks on both sides - not realising that both sides had already cooked quite well. Soon, a strange smell starts to fill the flat. Then smoke quickly starts billowing out of the toaster. Ralph, terrified, slowly starts backing towards the door. Then an alarm of sorts goes off. Ralph wrenches the door open and backs out, his moon-wide eyes staring in horror.

Someone from the flat opposite opens the door and starts yelling, running in to unplug the toaster oven, pick up some… Tool that clamps together when they press it so, use it to take both slices out to throw them onto the counter. Ralph watches, back pressed to the wall as though he's tethered there, as this brave soul opens as many windows as they can before marching out to him, coughing their lungs out. "The fuck is wrong with you?! Who are you?! Are you supposed to even be here?!"

Ralph finds himself too stunned to speak. The neighbour rolls their eyes. "Do you at least know the person who lives here?" Ralph nods. "We'll see about that."

Being at work again, ironically, feels like it's been a century despite it only being a day. But the floor is running smoothly, everybody's here and working just great. You're even on track to finish all your admin stuff at long last, when - your phone rings as your neighbour's name pops up. You answer it, confused as to why they would possibly need to call you. “Hello?”

“You dating a dickhead, by any chance?” You hear their voice, a constant panicked hooting that - despite you having just met him - you could easily place as Ralph hyperventilating, and your smoke alarm in the background.

You sigh, “Not dating, but my… An old family friend is staying. Proper sheltered guy, sounds like a massive Tory. Is he okay?”

“Sheltered to the point of not knowing how a fucking toaster works?! I should call the fucking police on him for endangering the whole block!”

“No! No, please, I - Like I said, he’s just very… Look, I don’t have time to go through his life history with you -” read: I don’t have time to bullshit something right now - “but can you just… Keep an eye on him while I get back? I promise, he’s not bad, he’s just…”

“An absolute idiot?”

“Yeah…” You sigh.

“Alright. But only because you’ve been so good about keeping my cat secret.”

“I’ll buy Cheese her favourite tuna on my way home as a thank you!” you squeal in relief as you hang up.

You quickly ring up some clothes in the same size as the ones you’d given Ralph last night, explain to your staff that there’s an emergency at home and to call if they need anything - but please, god, don’t need anything, you think that last part to yourself.

Grateful you took your car this morning, you’re able to get back in a matter of minutes. You run into the supermarket to grab a can of tuna, a toothbrush for Ralph and, in a stroke of genius you’d had on the drive, a SIM card. You manage to successfully pay for everything - thanking whatever's out there that your phone's wallet system actually co-operated with the self-checkout for once - and run everything back to the flats, wanting to prioritise getting back to Ralph over getting the car into the right car park. You can do that once your poor neighbour is relinquished of their Ralph-sitting duties.

Once you get to your floor, you see your door still propped open, and your neighbour sat in their open doorway. With a relieved sigh, you fish out the can of tuna from your carrier bag and hand it over. “I will supply as much of that, and anything you want, as thanks for all this. Please don’t be mad at him -”

They raise a finger to interrupt you and lean over, revealing Ralph sitting on the floor of their flat, absolutely beaming as Cheese the cat paces in front of him, rubbing her head and body against his knees at every chance she can get. Ralph even pets her on occasion, which she takes happily.

Your face drops. “How - I have to use that tuna just to get a sighting of her when I come round and feed her!”

Your neighbour shrugs. “I’m just down here because I’m still convinced she’s doing it to lure me into a false sense of security -” You laugh with them at that, and they sigh in resignation. “But look at him. He’s harmless, isn’t he?”

You nod. “He’s just… Not used to living life on his own.”

They rasp as they stand up. “That’s an understatement. What, was he in some sort of imprisonment?!”

You shake your head. “I don’t even know. I just know that he wanted to get out of where he was. And he ended up here, with me.”

“You’ve got your work cut out for you, then.” A look of realisation dawns over their face as they grin at you knowingly. “Isn’t your flat a one-bed -”

“I am sleeping on the sofa!” You point at the pillow and blanket that still remain strewn over the back of your couch, just about in view of where your neighbour had kept open to keep watch of the flat. Your neighbour laughs as your cheeks turn pink. “I’m not expecting him to stick around, so I’m toughing it out until he can find his feet.”

“Yeah, well,” they shrug. “Just teach him how to use things in a way that doesn’t involve committing arson, alright?”

Ralph finally notices that you’re stood in the doorway, and the delight on his face immediately turns to shame. He stands and bows his head, quickly heading out and into your flat, not making eye contact with you. You frown, though nod a final thanks to your neighbour who thankfully nods back in understanding, and follow him in. “Hey, you alright?”

“I have failed you,” Ralph says simply, his back turned to you.

You walk over to him, deciding he probably doesn’t want physical contact just yet. “No, you didn’t, I did. I should have left instructions, it’s not your fault you didn’t know how it worked.”

“Is it all ruined?” he asks in a small voice.

You put your bag down on the kitchen counter to look at the toaster and shake your head, throwing the burnt toast away. “It’s absolutely fine, Ralph. Promise.” You lean down until you can make eye contact with him and offer him a smile. “Need a hug?”

Ralph, looking on the verge of tears, nods and you walk over to him with your arms outstretched. He buries his face in your shoulder as you feel his breaths become more and more regulated. You smell the smoke still clinging onto his shirt and tap his shoulder to get his attention. Once you’re out of his embrace, you can’t help but wish you’d lingered just a moment longer. You empty out the shopping bag you’d brought in, telling Ralph, “I bought you some new clothes. And a toothbrush. And something else I’m going to show you later. Go have another shower, get that smell out of you.”

While he’s in the shower again, you go to your junk drawer, thankful that you’d decided not to throw away your old phone when you upgraded through your contract. Putting the new SIM card in, you put your old phone on charge and start Ralph-proofing it. You delete all apps except for Google, so that he can find things out for himself. You’d tell him about Alexa’s capabilities there, too, but you feel as though Ralph isn’t quite ready to understand it can’t answer everything. Not like the internet can. While he's somewhat safe in the shower, and while the phone charges enough to power on, you quickly make sure your car isn't getting towed. That would just be the icing on the cake today.

Still, once you're back in the flat, all that stress seems to ebb away when he comes out of the bathroom. “You look smart,” you chime as he walks out wearing the outfit he’d chosen for himself from the clothes you'd provided: a brown plaid shirt and some jeans - you'd overestimated to be safe, but they didn't appear too baggy. Enough for a belt to manage, but they could fit better.

“Well, I couldn’t find a - a suit to co-ordinate anything with, or a tie, so I’ve had to make do. I hope this is suitable enough,” he brushes his shirt down with his hands and fiddles with the collar.

“It looks great, Ralph,” you reassure, waving him over. “Now, this is gonna be a really big thing I’m going to be teaching you about now, so we’ve gotta focus up, okay?”

You teach him how to send a text message to you, the only contact in the phone now. You teach him how to call you. You have him practise calling by going to your room and waiting for him. He gets all giddy when he’s figured it out. You teach him that if typing is difficult, he can press a button, speak into his phone and the words will come up. You also tell him that if he taps the last square on the screen, and types in a question, it’ll tell him everything he needs to know.

Once that’s out of the way, you remember something. “Ah, shit. Uh, hey, Ralph, I’m supposed to be going over to my friend’s place tonight for dinner. If you want, you can join us, or I can cancel -”

“No, please don’t cancel on my account! Oh, but I can’t be trusted on my own here, can I, oh blast…” Ralph falters, but you once again put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Nah, don’t be silly, you can come with, it’s fine.” You send the group chat a message:

“They say they can’t wait to meet you! All’s good,” you grin.

“It certainly isn’t, what about your job?” Ralph asks with a frown.

You sigh. "Let me make you lunch, I'll pop back in to finish my stuff. It's been a slow one and I've got a good team on so hopefully they understand if I need to dip early to come back to you. Literally, just text me or call me if you need anything, promise?" Ralph holds out his little finger and you link it with an affectionate smile. "I'll leave the spare key out here on the counter if you want to leave. And anything you want an answer to straight away, that I might not have time to answer, you can tap that last square on the main screen and type in the box, okay?" Ralph nods. You make the pair of you some sandwiches and take yours on the road with you, fishing out your spare key and showing Ralph where you're putting it ("just in case").

By the time you've driven to work, you have a notification on your phone, which you finally read once you're back in the office:

Once you're finally done with admin stuff, for the time being, you go back out onto the floor to check on your team. You fill them in on an old family friend coming to stay, he had a bit of an unfortunate incident with a kitchen appliance, all is well but you're keeping your phone on you just in case. They, naturally, want photos and details, which you promise them soon. When you notice you haven't heard from him in a while, you text him:

Your coworkers watch you with amused concern as you go from snorting with laughter to looking at your phone in horror:

Opting to simply wave them all off rather than try to explain what you'd just witnessed over the past half an hour, you help your sales assistants out as much as you can until you feel another buzzing in your back pocket. Half-terrified at what Ralph could possibly text next, you brace yourself:

You let out a stressed breath as you send that last one, and finally, your team wear you down. You explain that your new temporary housemate now has free reign to leave the house, and after the events of the morning, you'd started to regret letting him. When you tell them all that he's 25 (which technically isn't a lie, he's got the body of a 25 year old), they assure you that even the most simple-minded of men surely could only navigate so far. Still, you can't help but pace the shop floor anxiously, refolding shirts and reorganising displays, until:

Laughing with relief, you excuse yourself for the day. You tell the team that you feel awful for leaving them, but they seem to understand that you have a greater purpose ahead of you.

You call Ralph to tell him that you're on your way home, mostly to make sure you don't still hear the sounds of the street behind him. Thankfully, there seems to be some jazz music playing in the background, so he must have figured out how to get music playing, too.

You unlock your door to see Ralph humming along to a tune, wiggling himself around rhythmically as he sprays the leaves of some budded flowers with water. He acknowledges you with a wide, genuine smile. "Hello!" He singsongs. "I thought I'd spruce them up a little before they go to their new home. Just a couple of African Violets, the shopkeeper said. The ones already in bloom on display looked quite wonderful."

It's not that you're not happy to finally see him excited about something he knows about already, but this is the same man who almost burned the whole flat down making toast just hours ago. Still, look at him. It's nice to see him acclimating.

Since Anna doesn't live too far away, you and Ralph walk over to her flat. He's holding his plants and looking extremely proud of himself, until someone almost walks into him and he's suddenly pulled back into the reality of the streets of modern London. His big eyes dart around as he desperately looks out for danger, wrapping his arms around his gift protectively. You take him by the cuff on his wrist and guide him, weaving through strangers who couldn't care any less about their surroundings.

You hadn't told Anna to expect a gift today, and so she seems thrilled to meet Ralph and take the plants out from his grip. He immediately follows her to start babbling on about what the shopkeeper had said were the best conditions to keep them in. Once she's finally able to set them down, Ralph is still tailing her, looking expectantly for more reaction. Amused and slightly confused, Anna reaches up to pat Ralph on the head. He giggles and rushes over to you. You and Anna share a look before you lead him to meet the rest of your friends.

Scott, Connor and Grace all greet Ralph enthusiastically, and he seems to be bursting at the seams at the prospect of so many people being happy to meet him. He stays relatively quiet as you catch up with your friends.

"So, Ralph…" Scott starts. He goes back to looking terrified. "How are you settling in living with this one?" he shoves your shoulder, and you bat him away, playfully flipping him off.

Ralph looks taken aback at such a casual display of vulgarity, but he continues, "Well, it's only been for the one night, and there's certainly a lot to learn about… This… London," you can tell Ralph doesn't lie well, and appreciate that he's trying to word things in as honest a way as possible. “But, your friend here is a remarkable host and teacher,” he nods, smiling to you. It’s up there with one of the strangest compliments you’ve ever received, but it makes you blush nonetheless.

Anna asks for some help in the kitchen, and while Connor is the first to stand up, Scott pushes him back down with a slowly emerging smile on his face, looking directly at you. “Why don’t you give us the chance to get to know Ralphie here?”

You narrow your eyes, “Why do you say that like you’re in your villain arc?”

He laughs, immediately softening. “I just wanna know what makes him tick. Get to know what he really thinks, y’know?”

Ralph’s eyes dart between the two of you. “Rest assured, I have to reason to lie about anybody here in the slightest!”

“I’m just yanking your chain, Ralphie,” Scott laughs, though Ralph is not amused.

Connor rolls his eyes, “Don’t let him put you off us, Ralph. You can get to know us, too, without a certain someone embarrassing us in front of their new friend,” he pulls a face as he points to you with his thumb.

Ralph grins with excitement, his feet running on the spot where he sits. “Do you have a lot of tales to tell between you, then?”

“Oh, we’ve known each other for years. Went to school together.” You explain as you stand, following Anna’s anguished look from her kitchen door. 

Ralph licks his lips, sadness dawning on his face. “Does that mean you all knew Lauren, too?”

Scott pulls a face, “How do you know Lauren, of all people?!”

Quickly assigning yourself as damage control, you pipe up, “Before he came to me, when he was living elsewhere, he met Lauren, Nick, Jase and Horace.”

“And yet he only mentioned Lauren…” Scott teases.

“Would you stop?” Grace slaps Scott’s shoulder as he laughs, moving over to accompany Ralph, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. “Clearly things didn’t work out. Her loss, mate.”

Even Connor gets in on the teasing as he snorts with laughter while pointing at you. “What a twist of fate, remember when Nick -”

“You know I never actually asked him out, right? I wussed out at the last minute and just told you all that he turned me down,” you interject, to almost everyone’s groans.

“Nah, that makes sense,” Anna calls from the doorway. “Explains why you’re still such a chicken these days. Speaking of chicken,” she ushers you into the other room hurriedly.

As your friends grill Ralph on what he knows about you so far (“Very little, I’m afraid!”), what his intentions in London are (“Sort of making it all up as I go along, really!”), and his tastes (“I’m really not quite sure, um, I’m quite new to all of this… Modern… I’ve always known the classics, you know?”), you help Anna with her final preparations. 

“So, how long d’you think you’re gonna keep him around for?” Anna asks.

You shrug, “It’s not really up to me. It’s whenever he’s ready to go back home, I guess.”

“I wonder where home is for him,” Anna frowns, and you shrug, focusing on your task. “He’s so… Out of touch. I know Scott was out of line guessing he’s escaped from a cult,” she mouths the word, “but, like, would him going back home really be the best thing?”

“Babe, you’ve known him for all of five minutes, and all you know about him is that he bought you some plants.”

“Exactly! You two are made for each other,” she muses, to which you grab a tea towel to flick at her.

“I’ve only really known him a day, myself,” you counter. 

“And still you let the man live with you,” Anna raises her eyebrows at you.

You shrug again, “I dunno, he’s harmless, i’nt he?” You look over at him, a trace of wistfulness in your gaze as you watch your friends tap his phone for him, pointing things out to him. “I guess we’ll just see what happens.”

Once everything is dished up, you go out to the other room to call them all to pick up their meals. “Hope you haven’t traumatised Ralphie too much,” you comment.

“Not at all!” Ralph beams. “Look at how many new people I have to call and to text message now!” He shows you the addition of your four friends’ numbers in his contact list.

“That’s great, Ralph,” you nod with an affectionate smile. “Now let’s go eat. Sorry none of your favourites are on the menu tonight, mate.”

“Ooh, what are your favourites?” Grace asks.

“Oh, anything with aubergine on the side is always a five-star meal for me!” Ralph grins, and Connor and Scott snort with laughter.

“Hey!” Anna scolds. “No vulgarity at the dinner table, please!”

Ralph frowns. “What is it that’s so vulgar about aubergines?!”

You see multiple people start volunteering themselves to teach him, and hold your hand out to stop them all. “Ralph, there are some questions that you’re better off finding the answers to all by yourself.”

Ralph gasps and points at you, “By using my phone!” You click a finger gun back at him in affirmation. He excitedly taps out a sentence - part of you wants to double-check for him, but you don’t want him to be entirely dependent on you, and besides, he’s a grown man - and frowns at his phone. “Hm, perhaps it takes a while for it to find the answer.”

You groan, “Has the data not kicked in yet? Sorry, that’s on me.”

Dinner goes by delightfully. Of course your friends would make Ralph feel at home. They are home. You wouldn’t even be able to tell amongst the table that one of you was actually from old money - really old money, at that. After dinner, everyone practically fights over getting to play their favourite songs to see how he reacts to them. You could cry every time you see how genuinely happy Ralph looks - though you didn’t want to pry too much behind his back with Anna, you are curious about his life back home. He doesn’t seem too happy thinking about the past, and if he’s so hung up on Lauren, who he barely knew, there can’t have been much luck with any other relationships. Maybe you’ll get to learn more about him. Maybe you won’t have enough time.

But, for now, you’ll happily take the arm he extends out to you as the song changes, laughing as he twirls you amongst the friend group you’ll happily share with him, for however long he needs them.

next chapter

#ralph timewasters #ralph timewasters x reader #ralph timewasters x you #ralph timewasters fanfic #ralph timewasters imagine #ralph penbury #ralph penbury x reader #ralph penbury x you #ralph penbury fanfic #ralph penbury imagine #ralph timewasters fluff #ralph penbury fluff #bsbl #fic: bsbl #*myfics

[castleclerics]

possible origin for the idea of edward creel from the og inspo: montauk project, and other parallels

edward creel truthers pls listen to this part of this interview i’m gonna throw up

if you don't know, this is Preston Nichols, who wrote the book “The Montauk Project: an Experiment in Time” which is where the conspiracy that inspired ST originated from. in this interview he’s talking about Al Bielek, who was also involved with Montauk and their experiments for ref.

(I DO NOT KNOW WHY ET IS COVERING HIS FACE DONT ASK ME)

EDWARD?? NEW FAMILY????? GET ME OYUT OF HERE ,

(he also explains a lot of timeline stuff in there if u wanna look but it's hard to copy word for word bc he veers off a lot lmao)

i already knew about the Montauk MK-Ultra relations but only now am i finally relating all the experiments with time to all the time fuckery in this show

so Al claimed his name was actually Edward Cameron and to be one of the missing crewmen from “The Philadelphia Experiment” aka "Project Rainbow". here's some backstory:

so when this ship vanished it was said that a green or blue fog took it's place. which is so funny especially because what i believe the ST fog to be is a visual representation of when a timeline or dimension switch happens. and Al claimed he slipped through time at random and landed in 1983 at Camp Hero because of the vanishing ship.

like Vecna's victims get dragged to a different plane of existence or timeline when he has a hold on them (hence why they are no longer in their physical bodies) so cue the blue-green fog.

and at camp hero they did a lot of experiments with broadcasting to new alternate realities and time experiments. Duncan Cameron was used for these and they started to realize he could manifest objects outside the current time and they would appear hours or days later. which falls in line with ST. we see objects changing places especially right after some weird time-related thing just happened.

for example Joyce always "misplacing" her keys after shit happens to Will the night before, or Will's walkie falling in the bathroom but being right by his feet on the field.

eventually Duncan could open an aperture and they started abducting boys aged 10-16 to send through the portal (probably what Preston is talking about in that interview)

*cough cough Brenner controlling Henry or whoever tf to commit mass murder maybe who knows*

and their first training mission was always sending them way back in time to a world in ruins and without life.

RAAAAAAAAAARARRARARARDRFDFDHSHF

Preston also claimed there was a large on-site library of videotapes for every mission

so that's cool

last fun thing is that this video of Preston is interesting because he has this sound room in his house and he lays down and listens to the swan lake theme and says this is the same recording they played at Montauk "for the matrix or the background of the transmissions(?)"

he also has lights set up that flicker with the frequencies of the music yayyy

bro it just reminds me of Victor with DALDOM and he says vague stuff about how your you can travel to different places mentally by doing this and he sees weird activity like people appearing out of nowhere LIKE SHUT UPPPPP

i think i covered everything all this digging was from months ago and i didn't take notes like an idiot so i had to research it all over again so i hope i didn't miss anything i originally wanted to include but this shit is wild !!!!

#edward creel #henry creel #the montauk project #vecna #stranger things #project montauk #stranger things parallels

[zarvasace]

The disability au is my comfort food

glad you like it! :) take this random bit I wrote this morning

Potions

Gen, Wild's the only character. Not really a story, just a scene. 871 words. AO3 link here!

Wild's scars are giving him a bit of trouble. (disability AU but technically semi-canon too?)

---

Formulas and possibilities move through Wild's head in a complex synchronized dance. He's had most of these thoughts before, he has them every time he sits in front of his potion cauldron, but he particularly values them tonight. It's a warm evening, with insects buzzing through the calm rows of Legend's garden beyond the clear dirt spot where Wild's set up. A few small clouds scrub across the sky. It's late enough that only a few voices are still awake inside the house, drifting in through the open back door. 

Wild shifts his weight, feeling the coarse dirt beneath his toes, and reaches forward with his metal spoon to stir his potion-in-progress. The metal is a little tarnished and eaten away from bad potion batches, but it's still functional, and Wild is definitely in the habit of using things until they're truly worn out. 

The pinch of the dirt on Wild's feet distracts him a little from the reason he's out here making potions rather than inside making cocoa or something: his scars itch. 

It's not exactly unusual. His scars give him a lot of trouble on occasion. They'll get stiff, restricting his range of movement, or they'll feel like they're tightening. The itching is Wild's least-favorite part, though. He usually manages his weird scar side effects just fine with salves he makes from recipes he'd learned from various medicine men and women across his Hyrule. The most common two he uses are warm lavender to manage the stiffness, and cool honey to manage the itching. He ran out of the cool honey stuff this morning. 

Wild digs his toes into the dirt and wafts some of the potion vapor toward his face. The smell reminds him of bone-deep chills, cracking ice, and honey candy. It's going well, he thinks. 

It's honestly a bit funny how his potion-making habits have changed. On his adventure, and for a while afterwards, he'd been one hundred percent stocked up on potions and salves, all of time. He made extra when he got bored, experimenting with ingredients and processes. He enjoyed the time he spent sitting next to fires, cooking food for later and trying new things. 

Wild still enjoys it, of course. There's a kind of tranquility that comes when his only concern is what's in the cauldron, or what's going to be in it. But now he has more to make than just food or elixirs for himself. He's learned about new ingredients, new recipes… or, rather, old ingredients and recipes. He's pretty sure he's on the end of the timeline somewhere, not that they know for sure. He likes the new purpose that his time by the cauldron has, he just… gets less of it. And with so much more to make, he forgets about the basics sometimes. 

So, right now is sort of uncomfortable. Wild pokes the concoction with his spoon, judges it done, and stands to pull the cauldron off the fire. Every movement shifts his undershirt against his skin, simultaneously making the itching better and worse. He winces to himself. 

As the salve cools, Wild pokes through his slate to try and distract his brain just a little bit more. He should probably stock up on butter next time they find a full market… he's been going through it like crazy. They could always use more healing and magic potions. Maybe he can get some of those ingredients ready. They take a long time to make, which is why he buys them, but he prefers to make his own, they're more potent with his modified recipes. 

Wild does his very, very best to ignore the way his scars itch, but part of his mind is always focused on it. His hip, ribs, under his left arm… then up his neck and his jaw. His ear has been ringing softly since this morning. Wild starts to cut up some ginger for the potions, but the repetitive movements of his left arm really aren't helping. It's maddening. 

In the end, he barely waits for the salve to cool enough to slather it onto his face. Hey, the skin's already burned. The soft honey immediately cools the itching, which is great. He shucks off his shirt right there in Legend and Ravio's backyard to dab the salve on everywhere else he needs it. It's a little sticky, but it's nice, overall. The breeze touches it and makes him shiver. 

Wild's shoulders ache a little from how tense he's been, trying to not itch hard enough to break skin. Seriously, someone should be really proud of how well he's done. Zelda probably would be. She has more than a few scars of her own from that century, and she at least sort of understands how it is. He makes a note to tell her. 

Hm… he'd been making healing potions… but he's running low on his warm lavender lotion, too. He knows that Legend appreciates it when he shares, though he'd never admit it. 

Mind made up, Wild cleans out his potion cauldron with a bit of soap and the pump, then puts some fire chu jelly to sizzling. It's a lovely night for potion brewing, and he's not going to waste it. 

#my writing #linked universe #lu fic #lu wild #disability au

[slashingdisneypasta]

Dragon romance dragon romance dragon romance-

I know I mentioned it before, but I have to bring I up again; Shiny trying to charm Poppy with a dragon mating dance. She may not be as instinctual as Psycho is, and she knows that to human Poppy this doesn't mean anything. But she still likes how amazed the princess is regardless. It makes her heart soar whenever Poppy praises her and gushes about how pretty her dance is or how pretty she is, sometimes. When Poppy slips up. Knowing that even if Poppy doesn't know this about dragon tradition, she still loves this thing that she can do. This part of her. Which, for the moment at least, while Poppy is still getting over that dumb asshole Ben, is enough.

Psycho, after he fully accepts the fact that he actually wants a mate- let alone make the little princess his, follows what his instincts tell him to do to ask her; build her a nest, and see how she responds. He waits until she's asleep (he wants to surprise her!) before he digs through the castle for any soft object he could find, things that he remembers Poppy likes. He gathers some leaves and twigs, maybe even some flowers from the village. And as a final touch, he leaves one of his scales in the nest. Not an old one that was ready to fall off; a fresh, bright and colorful one that probably hurt to pull out. It's his way of telling Poppy that he's giving himself entirely to her, and hopes she'll reciprocate.

(These last three could technically be seen as platonic- or friends with benefits on Greasy's end. But I'm still adding them XD)

When Ben finally shows up and attempts to make the damn trade, offering the kingdoms treasure for his wife, Smartass doesn't even give him the chance to speak. Poppy watches from the window of the room Smarty gave her as he basically tells Ben that he can take that treasure and shove it up where the sun doesn't shine. The deal is off- not because the princess is dead, but because he refuses give her back. Smartass says he's not giving up his most precious jewel for some overhyped bauble. Not realizing that Poppy heard every word, and is now wondering if he truly sees her that way.

(This is meant to be separate from the Baby Lottie timeline, btw. Lottie would be Smartass' greatest treasure if she was around ^^)

Poppy finally deciding to ask Greasy why. Why does he, a dragon, want her? A human? Why does he think she's worth this chase when she's so different from him in more ways than one? Not to mention the very distinct size difference between them. Why doesn't he see that this can not work between them?? She's thought about it, and she can't figure out how! No matter how curious she's gotten over the time they've known each other... And when Greasy says he can easily show her how he knows they can make this work, all Poppy can think about is why isn't she turning this down right away???

(... On the topic of Greasy pursuing Poppy and the last ask mentioning dragon heats; imagine that while Poppy is with them, her time of the month strikes. None of the other dragons probably know what's going on with her since they haven't learned about this painful part of humans... Except maybe Greasy, and he offers to help her through her pain. Ok bye-)

On a night that Poppy doesn't feel safe or ok on her own- whether it be because of the other dragons, she had a terrible nightmare, or she's thinking about things, she finds Wheezy still awake. He sees how tired, sad, and scared she looks and invites her to come over and sit beside him. What's the harm in it? She's not that bad of company, and he is the most calm of the dragons. One thing leads to another, she finds herself climbing into his open claws without caring about how gnarly they look, and Wheezy can't bring himself to put her down. And before either of them realize it, Poppy falls into a comfortable deep sleep in his palms. She knows that right here is truly the safest place she could be in this place.

I had to do it. I had to offer Dragon AU stuff for all the Poppy ships XD (except Grychoppy and Grinypop. Still gotta figure them out). I hope you enjoy reading these! ^^

Awwww, I love these! ^^

Imagine Poppy finding out what Shiny's dance is though!! Maybe one of the other dragons mentions it to her. How do you think Pops would react eh? 😏

But wait- what if Poppy only found out what the dance meant after Ben's knight came and took her back?? Like, Ben' talking shit about dragons being so 'primitive' or something over dinner, and mentions how they don't even communicate or anything- 'they dance at each other. freaky, huh?' (I dunno how Ben talks, I'm sorry!!) and Poppy's sitting there with her ears burning and her note twitching and a million thoughts racing through her mind. Shiny was- Shiny was- Shiny was- She cant even think the thoughts, just getting hotter and hotter like an overworked laptop. All she knows for sure is she has got to get out of here and get back to her.

Ahhhhh, that Psycho one!!! <3<3<3 That is just so cute. Its like that amazing yandere Psycho drabble you wrote but fluffyyy!! It makes me think of Poppy and Psycho having a quiet moment together after she notices the scale and her just quietly holding his huge dragon-face and going 'i appreciate this but please don't hurt yourself, I love you so much! ^^' and he's just staring at her and nodding

Eeee! Friends-With-Benefits/Dragon-Princess Greasypop!??? Omg omg I'm so into this idea. Imagine Dragon!Greasy getting even more protective of Princess!Poppy whenever she's on her period. Even if he's not particularly horny in that moment. He can smell her blood and his instincts kick in- he wraps around her and dozes- but he's completely alert; growling if anyone tries to come and take her away. Imagine Dragon!Greasy getting tied up during his heat becuse he is genuinly dangerous at this time (I mean he's bad enough when he's not aching to breed) and Princess!Poppy kneeling a safe distance from him (far enough that he cant reach her) and just soothing him with her words until he whines and whimpers. Imagine Greasy defending Princess!Poppy's modesty when she changes by acting as a shield but he figures 'eh, well since I've already touched her intimately its fine if Iiii watch her, si?'.

oh and one more thing- LET POPPY SLEEPING IN WHEEZY'S TALONS BE A REGULAR THING XD Its so soft and peaceful ^^ <3

Thank you so much for sending these in!!

[hermitdrabbles56]

Twilight is secretly the one who has the book obsession. :)

Twilight had been seat for all of two seconds, tucked up against a tree with his bag at his side when he found himself with a lap full of colorful clothes.

Four had been staving off a headache since they portal jumped that afternoon, and it looks like the beast with and anvil the hammer was winning.

So Twilight just gives a soft hum and rubs his head a slight bit. "How bad?"

"Ow.."

"Okay...what do you need?"

The smallest hero waists no time in getting comfortable. Curled up in the farmers lap like it's a perfectly built nest and making grabby hands for the wolf pelt still resting on on the bigger males shoulders. So with a soft chuckle he carefully undoes the clips holding it in place and pulls it off. Ploping it over four who practically purrs, hanging onto the fluffy bundle like it's a stuffed animal and burying his face in the soft fur.

"Do you want silence, or a distraction?"

"Distraction please....can you read?" Four mumbles into the fur.

He gives a soft chuckle. "Apparently headaches give you mind reading abilities, anything in particular you'd like too hear?"

"Not smart..brain can't handle the thinking."

Twilight gives another chuckle and starts reaching into his bag. Ever greatful for the magical thing as he starts digging around for the right bundle. "Perfect, I actually just picked up some new books."

"...didn't you pick some up last time?" Legend questions as he looks over.

"Yeah, but already read them and these had some new stories." Twilight grins.

"Shouldn't...we not be picking up books? For you know...timeline sakes?" Warriors questions carefully.

"Let's be real Timelines fucked! Go crazy go stupid." Wild announces unabashedly.

"Well..I wouldn't say fuck...hmm." Time stops mid sentence and contemplates his words for a moment. "Yeah no..no it's fucked.."

Wind just about snorts his water and is left in a laughter filled coughing fit as he topples off his log.

"Okay okay but like, still, how have you already gone through the last batch of books?? You got like five of them in my world!" Legend questions as he turns his attention back to Twilight.

"I read on my watches when I'm not doing something else!"

"We were in my world only a few weeks ago!"

"Soo??? Most of them were informal texts anyways those are fairly easy to breeze through." Twilight says with a shrug.

"You actually read informational stuff..?" Hyrule questions with a tilt of his head.

"Ehh, only certain things really but yeah! It's fun to learn new things."

"You'd like his herbology books they're super helpful." Wild pipes.

"..mm....speaking of when brain working again I wanna borrow that blacksmithing book you found when we went too Wilds hyrule." Four murmurs from under the wolf pelt.

"Which one?" Twilight asks with the tilt of his head.

"The old one...?"

He lets out another small chuckle. "Again which one?"

"..it's green?"

"Oh that one!"

"How many do you have!?" Warriors questions further.

"He has sooo many." Four mumbles as he looks over at the captain.

"How many is so many?" Sky finally pipes up.

"Bet its not as many as Legend!" Wind giggles now that he can breathe again.

"Oh no. It's worse." Legend admits.

"It's not that bad is it?" Twilight questions.

"There's no way it's that bad." Warriros deadpans.

"He could fill a royal library...granted thats with the extensive collection he has at his house but with the two combined someone could drown." Legend says right back in the same flat tone.

"Okay now that's an exaggeration." Twilight frowns.

"Okay but seriously how many do you have..?" Hyrule asks as he crawls over to him and Four.

"Mmmmmm..."

Reaching into his bag again Twilight starts pulling them out, by the bundle. They're all carefully organized held together by leather straps made specifically for carrying books. Though some are just bundled with twine.

There's herbology, agriculture, culture in general, blacksmithing plants and animals and even books on things the rest of them are interested in as well as many more. And of course, various story books both big and small. Even some that look like they've never properly been published.

Overall once the majority is layed out Twilight gives a sheepish little chuckle while rubbing at the back of his neck.

"See? It's not that bad."

#hermit responds! #hermit writes #nancyheart <3 #lu twilight #lu four #lu legend #lu warriors #since they talked the most ^^; #linked universe #obsessed enough? #i mean come on #you cant tell me in a world were the heroes outfit as built in bag of holding they wouldnt get a bit carried away sometimes!! #and books arent THAT bad when youre used to lugging around a ten ton ball and chain #its judt dome light reading #and he reads them all ALOT

[kuwdora]

Star Wars audiobooks! I've been restless for new Star Wars since Andor ended. Been going through a handful of Disney era and Legends novels over the last few months. I have enough reactions to get down into an actual post. Mostly I'm just going to be foaming at the mouth over Marc Thompson and Sam Witwer's narration and falling over myself about the characters. I have listened to: Dark Disciple, Last Shot, Disney Thrawn trilogy, Heir to the Empire, Darth Maul: Shadow Hunter. Lots of these books I liked, some of them I didn't but the narration and characters are still amazing. Motherfucking MARA JADE. Asajj Ventress!!!!!!!! I have no rational mind about Maul and I am one of those feral stick figures chewing on Thrawn. Hnnghh.

First of all, let me start with Marc Thompson. He's been doing the audiobooks for years and years now. Here’s a great intro where he’s talking about the differences of doing character voices and learning the importance of bringing the right dynamic to the prose. He slips so seamlessly into his Star Wars voices reel, ahaha.

Here is a really cute Lip Sync Battle where Marc Thompson will say a line and then have a fan lip sync the same line back at the camera. His energy, his energy I love it so much. Everyone is having SO MUCH FUN. There’s also a cameo by Star Wars author Christie Golden in this video. Super cute.

First book:

Dark Disciple - Christie Golden Narrated by Marc Thompson

Alright I actually had picked this up ages go from my library and never read it but since I’ve been on an audiobook kick, Marc Thompson got me goin’ with alllll his voices.

I love Asajj Ventress so I was pretty much guaranteed to enjoy something from this book. Apparently it was written based on some unfinished scripts for an arc that would have happened if the show didn’t get cancelled. Knowing this makes a lot more sense with regards to the pacing and I think I would have preferred the animated episodic for this since I think a lot of the early Quinlan and Asajj stuff dragged a little too much. However I did appreciate getting more of a deeper dive in Asajj’s head and it really made me want to go digging through AO3 for some amazing character studies that I know must exist at this point.

But yeah, I didn’t think I’d enjoy the eventual romance between Asajj and Quinlan but Quinlan was such a perfect set-up for a fall from the Jedi Order. I think I’m just really easy when it comes to whumping the fuck out of Jedi with torture and their own emotional repression.

I was really into all the Dathomir scenes and the history of Asajj with her sisters being touched upon again and how she managed to not “go crazy from the dark side” because of the balance she found because she was a Nightsister.

A++ for Asajj having to go to Boba fucking Fett to mount a rescue mission inside a fake heist.

Really I think I’m just so easy for murdery women with a rage boner. Fuck Dooku.

Marc Thompson’s narration was a delight and I definitely would recommend this for anyone who enjoyed The Clone Wars series and wanted to get a little more Asajj screen time. Here’s a scene where someone pulled Clone Wars clips and put Dark Disciple audio underneath. Marc Thompson bringing incredible Dooku subservience and Sidious danger, hhhngh.

7/10, would listen to again even though I'd rather see the finished episodes.

Last Shot (A Han and Lando Novel) - Daniel Jose Older Narrated by Marc Thompson, Daniel Jose Older and January LaVoy

This book was extremely disappointing. Normally I am a fan of seeing fan-favorites have their mid-life crises but I was extremely bored and over with Older’s take on Han having an existential crisis of who he was as a father an husband in this post-Empire world. Lando on the other hand, was having a crisis of genuinely having fallen in love and not knowing how to handle that. I fucking loved that.

This book had multiple timelines and jumped around a lot and I don’t know if I just wasn’t focused enough while listening but the timeline jumps were jarring and incomprehensible at times. The action plot ended up being rather unsatisfying.

It was also very jarring to have three narrators for the different timelines and I kind of feel bad because I went and looked and Older’s narration is just consistently getting panned across all reviewers—and for good reason. Thompson and LaVoy are experienced voice actors and with Older in the middle, Older just seems slapdash in his reading. If it was just Older all the way through I might have been more forgiving but going back and forth with everyone… it really was painful at times.

It was a slog to get through this book, really. What I actually really enjoyed was all the original characters: an Ewok slicer, a nonbinary hot shot pilot, and Lando’s love of his life whose name is slipping my mind even now, agh. I wasn’t fan of the villain character, unfortunately, and it was a bit of a letdown that the action plot was just… I don’t know, boring. It was a riff on transhumanism except with droids and a bit of droid supremacy to it and I was just... tired by it.

Marc Thompson was KILLING it tho. His performances always fucking delight me. January LaVoy’s narration of Lando and L-3 were also really great even though I just wasn’t into the scenes themselves.

3/10 - do not recommend, HOWEVER I would read fic about the lady ewok hacker Peekpa.

Darth Maul: Shadow hunter By Michael Reeves Narrated by SAM WITWER

I am, as the fannish parlance goes, Not Normal about Maul or Sam Witwer's performance as Maul.

This novel takes place just before the events of The Phantom Menace and it’s a Star Wars story that is very, very narrow in scope. The stakes are still very high because someone has gained information about the Trade Federation’s impending blockade and Sidious sends Maul to go and take care of it. The whole story takes place in the underbelly of Coruscant and I gotta say, it’s really refreshing after going through a bunch of Star Wars shows, books and films where it’s all galactic hopping whirlwind stuff to have that's in one place and happening in a short amount of time. I think it's something like 2 or 3 days that all the events happen.

Michael Reeves is a man of deep characterization and creates an amazing sense of place in the Black Sun alley of Corusant. We get very little Sidious and Maul interaction but what bits we do get are fascinating and haunting. I do like the ‘less is more’ approach here with these two...although I will say I’m not sure I would have picked up this book if I hadn’t gone through The Clone Wars and lost my goddamn mind over Sam Witwer’s portrayal of Maul.

And his performance here. In this book. I don’t know what it is about Witwer but when he does Maul my brain just lights up in a way that I haven’t really gotten outside of live theater performances. He brings this sense of ruthlessness and competence to Maul, his gleeful rage and oscillating mania as he ends up tracking an information broker and Jedi Padawan. Oh, Witwer is truly just. Fucking amazing, okay.

I would love this book even if it wasn’t Witwer narrating it but my god he elevates it to a whole new level. I got my copy from the library but it is immediately on my to-buy list once I can buy books again.

Michael Reeves also wrote for Batman the Animated series and Gargoyles which makes a whole lot of sense in the way he’s able to just create such lush sensory detail of place and people, oh holy fuck. He’s the writer who wrote the Gargoyles episode about Broadway accidentally shooting Elisa with her gun (this is an episode that got pulled from airing and I don’t think they have on Disney+ right now). Aw man, alright I definitely need to read more of his stuff now.

The action plot is Lorn Pavan is a down-on-his-luck fellow who got information he shouldn’t have and he is trying to sell it, Darsha the Jedi Padawan gets sent down to bring in a Black Sun informant and things go tits up for her in horrible ways. Darsha and Lorn’s paths collide and they try to survive Maul. I love everything about these characters, except for the end where Lorn started having romantic feelings about the Padawan. Blech.

Also somehow I think I-5 is now my second favorite droid character I’ve come across in the greater Star Wars canon (Chopper will always be my #1 grumpy cat droid). Witwer has the best dry delivery for the droid character. Like. It’s so fucking GOOD.

I’m also impossibly impressed and obsessed with Witwer’s performance of Sidious and the Jedi Council. His Qui-Gon is SO FUCKING GOOD. His Palaptine has my teeth rattling in my head oh my god.

Here’s the first 5 or so minutes of Shadow Hunter, hhnngh. You get Maul, Sidious a drunk Lorn Pavan, and my new droid bestie I-5:

I am 100% going to be reading Michael Reeves’ other Star Wars novels. Apparently he has a series that follows a Jedi-in-hiding post-Order 66 and I want to just dunk my head in all the Star Wars noir, I guess, yes please.

10/10 - I love, would heartily recommend to anyone wanting a kind of story that’s more heavy on character and setting and also SAM WITWER!!!!!!!!! Maul. Hnnghghghgh.

TIMOTHY ZAHN TIME.

Thrawn Trilogy (Disney era) Thrawn, Thrawn Alliances, Thrawn Treason Narrated by Marc Thompson

This was my second time through the Disney novels. I watched Star Wars Rebels first, then my friend jb_slasher told me about Thrawn having novels. I had vaguely heard of Heir to the Empire over the years and also my friend recommended the Disney trilogy so I figured I’d start with that since I was diving off from Disney canon anyway.

My god I love this trilogy so fuckin’ much. Marc Thompson out here nailing it. This Thrawn is the type of character who is always the smartest person in the room and I should get irritated by that like all the other characters but mmmm, I have a competence kink. And I am just over the moon with how he instills loyally and allegiance in his crew who can now have a commander who is not interested in politicking his way through things but actually is committed to strategy and whatnot.

Also fucking Zahn made Thrawn go back to space college. And gave him a little protege who he grew to admire. Eli Vanto is a great character, I am reading a lot of slash about them obviously but yeah, I loved seeing his growth throughout the trilogy. And THRAWN ALLIANCE. Y’all. Y’all. The Star Wars memes about Thrawn and Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker are AMAZING and really do the hilarity so much justice. Here's a fantastic book trailer cut together with Marc Thompson' narration, hnngh.

This man absolutely knows who Darth Vader is and Darth Vader is like “oh fuck no you don’t.” And when Thrawn had met Anakin during the Clone Wars and Anakin had to try and work together with him? Perfection. Bonus Padme getting to be a ridiculous and foolish badass when she goes looking for trouble. And also her also having a competence kink for Thrawn, too. It cracks me the fuck uuuuuup, okay.

Thrawn absolutely hates politics so fucking much and I love to see how that is the primary way he gets thwarted or has to build his strategy around. Because people are fucking assholes and political everywhere. Seriously, have I mentioned how much I love Marc Thompson??

Thrawn Treason gave us more of Thrawn’s people and whatnot with the Chiss which I also liked but I’m really less interested in their motivations and experiences as a culture on the edge of the Empire. More here for Vanto now getting to be the fish-out-of-water and leveling up and getting all the respect he deserves.

MARC THOMPSON, y’all. He does a great Thrawn, an AMAZING whinybaby sycophant Ronan of the Starkiller Project, and his Eli Vanto Space Yokel intonation is 💋. Also I feel like the loyalty and trust that Thrawn earns from his subordinates really feeds into this praise kink thing that everyone develops by being around him. I love it.

10/10 will lose my mind and listen/read this trilogy again and also read all the fanfic about it.

Heir to the Empire Timothy Zahn

I am sorry it took me 30 years to get here but I AM NOW HERE FOR MARA JADE’S RAGE BONER. Let me repeat: MARA. JADE. !!!!!!!!!

Also holy fuck. Luke Skywalker getting to be smart, technically creative and able to navigate through terrible situations in spite of a Force-Blocking Macguffin is AMAZING. I was not expecting to be this into a post-Empire Luke but I really fucking loved it.

I also love all of the Han and Lando scenes in this (WAY MORE than Last Shot, sorry Daniel Jose Older).

Leia and Chewie!! On Kashyyk!! Talon Karrde was so great (Thompson made him kind of sound like Antonio Banderas??)

Thrawn and his bestie Pelleaon! What a fascinating dynamic.

I actually was not very into Thrawn’s vibes in this book as much as I was in the Disney stuff. I don’t know if it’s because of the vibes they wrote him in Star Wars rebels that got filtered back into Zahn’s take on him for the books (or if it was the other way around?) - Like, the calculating tactical and man of strategy is still there, but… hm, I’ve been struggling to articulate what about it that didn’t tickle me as much. He’s still playing the long game in every situation but I don’t know… I think there’s this more pragmatic view of people he has in the Disney books that he doesn’t get here in the first of this trilogy. I haven’t gotten to the other two books from this series yet so maybe I’ll feel differently later. The anniversary edition of the audiobook that I got from my library was narrated by Marc Thompson and he (you'll be so surprised) fucking nailed it all for me. Love love love.

10/10 timothy zahn, I love you. You got an amazing way of writing action. I gotta read more of your stuff. Anyway, I'm also starting the Ahsoka novella that I think (??) is not quite canon anymore since they got a final season for Clone Wars, but it's by E.K. Johnston and narrated by Ahoska's voice actor Ashley Eckstein. Don't have enough thoughts about it yet but I love Ahsoka so I'm sure I'll have a decent time.

#this is like 2k of me rambling and talking about my star wars feels wheee #star wars #kuwdora reads #star wars books #heir to the empire #thrawn alliances #thrawn treason #asajj ventress #thrawn #mara jade #sam witwer #darth maul #marc thompson #my posts #textpost #shadow hunter

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Vast!Jon AU - Archivist!Sasha Snippet

AKA: That Moment When you want to scream at characters to get as far away as they can... but it's already too late.

--------------

It’s Eye stuff. It’s got to be.

Sasha lies on the floor, nausea rising, vertigo leaving her unable to do much more than be a slug.

Well. And churn Jon’s words.

Do you know what Elias is?

A boring, letter-of-the-law manager?

Except she suddenly knows he is not.

What this place is?

It’s an archive. It’s an intellectual curiosity, knowledge tucked behind glass and incorruptible.

Except she suddenly knows it is not.

If only her head would stop spinning.

If only she could stop feeling like she was falling off a cliff. 

If only she - 

“Sasha?”

Elias.

“I’m here.” She lies still, eyes closed, digging the heels of her hands into her forehead.

“My, my, he did hit you hard, didn’t he? It was an accident, at least. Sasha, I am going to touch you.”

“Excuse you?” she says, because he’d fucking better not mean what that sounded like.

“To free you from the grip of what has made you dizzy. It will not be inappropriate.”

Sasha laughs. “So appropriate that you have to tell me it’s going to be appropriate? What, I couldn’t figure that out for myself?”

“Lie still.” And he touches her forehead.

There is a snap, a flash of light behind her eyelids, and the vertigo abruptly stops.

Sasha makes a low, breathy sound.

“Take your time,” says Elias, who is not at all what she’d thought, and she grows afraid.

She tries to think. There’s nothing remotely like a weapon in here. Maybe if she got into Artefact Storage, but the things in there would be just as likely to eat her as they would him.

“Relax, Sasha. I am not your enemy. We’re on the same side.”

“What side? There are sides?” She risks opening her eyes, and finds the room has stopped whirling. Carefully, she sits up. Her stomach is still unhappy, 

“This is not how I would have preferred to introduce you,” says Elias, who is seated where Jon had been, out of reach, non-confrontational. “You needed more time to acclimate, but our young Mister Sims accidentally accelerated the timeline.”

Sasha thinks maybe she knows now why Gertrude was always so secretly crunchy. “Forgive me, Elias, but what the actual hell are you talking about?”

Elias smiles.

It is a terrible smile.

It is knowing, and smug, and absolutely eager, as if whatever is happening now is satisfying some deeply creepy need. “It’s very simple, Sasha: Do you want to know?”

And it’s not even a fully fleshed-out sentence, and it’s not even a question that should make sense, but it resonates in her, rings her heart like sympathetic tuning forks, gongs through her skull as if he’d hit her brain like a bell.

She needs to know.

She needs it badly.

She needs it with a hunger she’s never known in her entire life, and it eclipses everything else in this moment.

Vaguely, she’s aware of staring back at him, not breathing, so caught in those five, simple words that she’s lost the thread of herself. “Yes.”

“Perfect. Come join me at the table. We have a lot to discuss.”

#

“Fuck that guy,” Martin says the moment they’re outside, taking out his phone. “I’m so mad I’m getting us a rideshare. And we are going someplace ridiculous, and having substandard ice cream, and maybe some booze. Right?”

“I have to go back in,” whispers Jon.

“Nuh-uh. Simon Fairchild has to know some other guy to teach you how to be a proper monster, because that one is full of bats.”

"I hurt her," Jon whispers.

Martin stops. Grips Jon’s shoulders.  "What?"

And Jon won’t meet his eyes.

“Jon?” says Martin, soft.

“I hurt her.” He’s trembling, and his lashes are wet. “Completely by accident, I hurt her. I… I hit her with the Vast, somehow, and I don’t even know how I did it. I have to go back. I have learn how not to do this, so I never do it again.”

Martin stares at him. His phone buzzes. He ignores it. “Jon… should… should we go help her?”

“She asked me to leave. Twice.”

Ouch. “I know you’d never hurt anyone on purpose.”

“I have to go back.”

Martin’s phone buzzes again. He resists the urge to lob it across the street like a grenade. “Jon. It’s been a crazy few days. Apparently, there are fear gods. We’re going home.”

“Martin, if I hurt you - ”

“You won’t. Jon, you’ve been kipping with me for three days. If you were going to hurt me, it already would have happened.”

Jon glances up at his face and away again, but that was long enough.

Martin gasps. “Jon… your eyes.”

“Don’t look!” Jon tries to pull away.

Martin pulls him in instead, both arms around him, and holds. Jon practically goes limp, face to Martin’s shoulder, and trembles. 

Martin cannot process what he just saw.

Jon’s eyes.

They were galaxies.

Looking into them was looking at those fancy NASA photos, shrunk to a thumbnail size.

Martin was absolutely sure for one irrational second that he could fall into Jon’s eyes and be lost in space forever.

Then he shakes it off, because that is ridiculous, and this is stupid. “Come on. Copious amounts of sugar. No arguments.”

“I don’t think I can. I think… I probably need to be alone. Away from you, especially. I can’t… risk doing this to you. I can’t.”

“You won’t.”

“At least give me a couple of days to be sure I won’t just start… hurling people into the air off the street, or something.” Jon risks a glance again (stunning, stellar, impossible), then gently puts his hand to Martin’s cheek. “I’m not going to do anything stupid. But I… if something happened to you because of  me, I don’t…”

Martin’s thoughts have derailed thanks to that hand. Jon’s never done that before.

After a moment, he puts his hand over Jon’s. “You promise you’re not doing something stupid.”

“I promise.”

“Okay.” He wants to kiss Jon’s hand. “Okay.” He wants to kiss Jon’s lips. “Okay.” He wants…

Jon gives him a tight, desperate hug, face to his neck, breath warm and fluttering, and then he’s hurrying away down the street, head down and hands in his pockets, visibly trying not to look at anyone who might cross his path.

Martin stands there, feeling bereft.

Should he run after him?

Maybe?

No?

Jon had the right to ask to be alone, and they had been together for the last three days unceasingly.

Should he check on Sasha?

Maybe?

Probably?

There wasn't an ambulance coming, or anything, so she was hopefully okay?

This was fine.

Sure.

Completely within reason and all very healthy.

Martin’s phone buzzes a third time.

In a daze, he takes it out.

The first text is an enormous privacy invasion, because he had not given Peter Lukas his number. Had a chance to look at that link yet?

Ugh! He deletes it.

The second text is automated, and expected, reminding him the monthly bill for his mother’s care is due.

But the third text.

The third comes from his shift manager.

Martin, it’s Nicole. Antoine lost it and burned down the kitchen, ranting about “desolation” and “lightless flame” and I don’t know what else. We all got out, and we’re not hurt, but Antoine is dead and the restaurant is ruined. Sorry, Martin, I know you needed the money, but Poisson is closed until further notice. Take care of yourself.

Martin stares.

He pulls up the news, and there it is: wild photos of the blaze, black smoke licking the sky, people gaping from across the street, firefighters in full gear and blasting the building with hoses.

He stares.

It’s just… one too many weird things in a week of weird things, and Martin sits down right where he is on the curb.

Right, he thinks, because he was barely making ends meet even with that job.

Right, he thinks, and tells himself it’s absurd to assume the Lukas thing had anything to do with the fire.

Right, he thinks, because the bill for his mother’s care is due, and without the next paycheck, he won’t be able to make it.

For one moment, he drowns.

In a daze, he texts Sasha to ask if she's okay.

Then he scowls. “Oh, fuck it,” he says, and fishes Lukas’ card out of his wallet.

The link still works.

“Fuck it,” he says again, feeling reckless, telling himself asking about an opportunity is not tying him down to anything, and it’s at least worth his time to see if they’re serious.

Coincidences happen.

They do.

"Fuck it," he says one more time, and calls the number.

He just wishes he could lose the stupid, obviously wrong feeling that a net was closing around them all.

#vast!jon #archivist!sasha #tma au #tma #tma fic #fic in progress #wip #amwriting #martin blackwood #peter lukas #elias bouchard

[teaandfiction-28]

I've come to ask for a one shot; you know how much I love your work. 👏😊

So, I'll do one for now... can I have, if its not already taken, Smut #7 "I love it when you scream my name". I love the way you write your stuff. 😊❤️

Thanks in advance, I hope these one shots stay open, I love reading these, and your stuff in general. 👍🥰

By the way, I LOVED Perfect Storm and Brand New Day; they were AMAZING!! I hope you continue writing, your stuff is superb. 👏😊

Thank you so much for your lovely comments @jasonbeghefangirl and sorry it’s taken so long to get this published!

I probably wrote it about four different ways (and I’m still not convinced the timeline fits the prompt 🤷🏽‍♀️) but eventually I was happy enough to post it - really hope you enjoy 💛

—————————

Prompt: “I love it when you scream my name.”

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Language, Smut [18+ Only]

Timeline: Set between C22 and C23 of ‘Perfect Storm’

“Kate? You hom-omph!”

He hadn’t even managed to push the door closed behind him before his arms were filled with a familiar lithe, warm body, his hands instinctively dropping to grip the back of her thighs, securing her legs more firmly around his waist as she captured his mouth in a hard, passionate kiss. 

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking about this exact moment ever since he left the house earlier that morning.

‘You know what today is right?’ She had asked, a steaming mug of coffee clasped between her hands as she stood barefoot in the kitchen, hair piled in a messy bun atop her head wearing nothing but the shirt he had discarded the night before. 

‘Uh, Thursday?’ Was his distracted reply as he shoved his arms into his leather jacket, digging around in the ceramic bowl on the sideboard for his car keys. Alvin had called first thing to tell him that Fischer was, once again, on the war path and that Ruzek had caught a case while working an off-book CI. It wasn’t even 8 o’clock in the morning and he could already feel the telltale throbbing behind his eyes. 

Suddenly there was a warm weight pressed against the length of his spine and a tanned forearm appeared from beneath his arm with the keys to his SUV dangling between a thumb and forefinger.

‘Won’t get far without these, Sarg.’ She muttered quietly, pressing a soft kiss to the nape of his neck as her free arm banded around his waist, palm coming to rest on his stomach. 

Plucking the keys from her fingers, he turned slowly on the spot until they were facing one another, Kate’s hands slipping beneath his open jacket to hold him flush to her body. 

‘What would I ever do without you, hmm?’ He leaned down to push a soft kiss to the very tip of her nose, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards when her face scrunched in response, pretending to be deep in thought. 

‘Well, you’d save a ton of money on gas for a start.’ Kate said eventually, her palms roaming slowly over his back, gently kneading the already-tense muscles through the fabric of his shirt. Pushing up onto her toes, Kate sealed her mouth over his in a slow, sweet kiss but, before either of them could fully embrace the rare moment of serenity, they were interrupted by Hank’s work cell vibrating in his pocket. 

‘Want me to bring something home for dinner?’ He asked, glancing briefly at the caller ID before silencing the call with a sigh, stuffing the phone back into his pocket. 

‘No need, I already know what I’m having tonight.’ Kate was still yet to release him from her hold and, as she leaned forwards to push a chaste kiss to his cheek, she lingered for a just a moment longer to brush her lips against his ear. ‘You.’

That had been the moment it suddenly hit him like a freight train that it wasn’t just any Thursday, it was the Thursday. The Thursday that marked the end of the six week sex ban the New York nephrologist had slapped them with after her donation surgery. But before he could say another word, she had ushered him out of the door with that beautiful coquettish smile and getting back home to her had been all he’d been able to think about ever since. 

“Bedroom. Now.” She demanded in between hot, tongue-filled kisses, her hips already impatiently rolling against his as she burrowed her hands beneath his jacket, shoving the heavy leather from his shoulders until it bunched around his elbows. 

“Mmm, you been this worked up all day?” He muttered against her lips, releasing his grip on her thighs momentarily to let his jacket fall to the floor with a loud thud, both of them breathing heavy as he began to walk her through her apartment towards the bedroom. 

“I’ve been worked up for fucking weeks.” 

She wasn’t exaggerating. They had been barely two weeks into the medically-imposed sentence of celibacy the first time she had stealthily crawled into his lap under the guise of ‘just needing a hug’ but within minutes her palms begun to wander under the hem of his t-shirt, fingertips dancing over the warm flesh of his lower belly before he’d reluctantly stopped her.

“Need you Hank...please...can’t wait.” Her fingers tugged on the short strands at the back of his head, her centre bumping against his jean-clad groin with each step he took and Kate was already balancing precariously on the edge of climax by the time they reached the bedroom.

Their relationship was built on so much more than sex but they had both struggled with the lack of intimacy. He would climb in to bed beside her every night, body frigid from the icy shower he’d endured just so he could take her in his arms without the fear of tenting his boxers and making her feel unnecessarily guilty. But now that there was nothing stopping them, the desire to reconnect was overwhelming. 

Gently depositing her on the mattress, he took a minute to kick off his boots and unclip his badge and gun, placing both atop of a nearby dresser before leaning down and sealing his mouth over hers, tongues dancing languidly as he made short work of her clothes, pulling her t-shirt over her head and tugging her leggings down and off of her long legs, her plain black bra and panties joining the growing pile of fabric on the floor. As he pulled back to deal with his own shirt, Kate reached forward to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans, her hands shoving the denim down his legs before delving inside to stroke his rapidly hardening length as he tossed his shirt haphazardly behind him. 

“Hey.” He mumbled gently, cupping her jaw in his palms to draw her eyes to his. “There’s no rush. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Hank had wanted to take his time and, although he had no desire to tease her, the need burning like an open flame in her bright hazel eyes had him rapidly rethinking his plans for the evening. With her face still captured in his hands, he leaned in to push a soft but passionate kiss to her lips, the pads of his thumbs brushing across her flushed cheeks soothingly. With the frenetic energy somewhat harnessed, he proceeded to rid himself of the rest of his clothing before easing her back onto the mattress, draping his bare body carefully along hers, bracing almost all of his weight on strategically placed knees and elbows.

Tearing his mouth from hers, he traced his lips along the line of her jaw, nudging her head backwards with his nose to give himself ample space to pepper soft kisses down the column of her throat. She was practically vibrating with pent up desire when he slipped a hand between their bodies, drawing featherlight circles around her throbbing bundle of nerves as he simultaneously sucked a tight nipple into the warm cavern of his mouth. 

“Hank...” She whispered breathlessly, one hand clutching the back of his head while the other gripped his shoulder, her nails leaving crescent moon-shaped indents into the flesh of his upper back. 

“C’mon Kate, you know how much I love it when you scream my name. Let me hear you.” He mumbled against her chest, his mouth tugging into a grin when her entire body trembled in response and, sure enough, the moment he slipped first one, then two thick fingers inside her molten heat, her back arched away from the bed as she came with a loud cry, his name tumbling from her parted lips.

Kate was still floating in an ethereal bliss when she eventually opened her eyes to find Hank hovering above her, his eyes ablaze with the perfect combination of love and lust as the hot, hard length of him nudged at her saturated core. They released simultaneous groans of pleasure when he slowly pushed inside, eyes closing at the heightened sensation of being joined after so much time apart. Hank stayed completely still for a few moments, simply enjoying the feel of her body stretching to accommodate him but his resolve rapidly unravelled when Kate cupped his cheek in her palm, drawing his eyes to her own before lifting her knees a few inches higher, pulling him deeper into her body. 

He set a slow but steady pace, keeping his lips attached to hers but, before long, Kate was clawing at the skin of his back, begging for him to push her over the edge once more and, manoeuvring a hand between their undulating bodies, he gave her exactly what she asked for. Her broken cry of ecstasy was captured in his mouth as she tightened around him, dragging him over the precipice with her as he reluctantly jerked himself free from her body, spilling hot ribbons of release onto her stomach with a guttural groan. 

Breathing heavy, the muscles in his arms and chest quivered as he held his weight above her, afraid he would be too heavy for her still healing body but Kate had other ideas, wrapping her arms around his back and tugging him down towards her so that they were pressed together from chest to groin, not caring for the sticky mess between them. For a long while they simply lay together, trading gentle kisses in the quiet afterglow where the only sound was their slow, steady breaths and the rhythmic thud of their hearts beating in perfect sync. 

“Hank?” She mumbled against his lips, fingertips skating over his damp spine. 

He hummed quietly in response, eyes closed as his body relaxed under her gentle ministrations. 

“Did you bring food home?”

His eyes fluttered open, easing up onto his elbows so that he could peer down at her, one eyebrow quirked in amusement. 

“Did it look like I had food when you accosted me in the doorway?” He said dryly, the corner of his mouth pulling upwards when Kate dissolved into a fit of giggles. “Besides, you told me you wanted something else for dinner.”

“But I’m still hungry.” She moaned dramatically, toes sliding along the back of his thigh teasingly.  

“Huh…should I be offended that I’m not enough to keep you satisfied?” He dipped his head to push a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses along her neck, only for her stomach to promptly growl loud enough to stop him in his tracks. 

“Alright, point taken.” He murmured with a chuckle, pushing to his feet before extending a hand out to Kate who had propped herself up on her elbows, casting an appreciative gaze over his naked form. “Shower first, then takeout?” 

Clutching his fingers in hers, Kate allowed him to gently tug her to her feet, her arms immediately encircling his neck when she closed the few inches of space between them. 

“Two incredible orgasms and the promise of food?” She mused, touching her lips to his so softly that, if his eyes had been shut, he might have missed it. “You, Hank Voight, could quite possibly be the perfect man.”

There was no ‘possibly’ about it. Despite all his faults, in her eyes he was as close to perfection as a man could get. But she reasoned that his ego had already been inflated enough for one day and a healthy dose of humility would probably be good for him! 

#hank voight #chicago pd #hank voight imagine #hank voight smut #hank voight fluff #hank voight fanfiction #hank voight x ofc #prompt #writer #smut #fanfiction #fluff #chicago pd fanfiction

[newgenog]

REVENGE

Notes: This is NOT part one of chapter five. This is a teaser from chapter five.

If you're just stumbling across this, and haven't already done so, please stop and start by reading part one of chapter one.

This #Batwoman AU is based on the ABC tv series #Revenge. Ryan Wilder had just about everything taken from her when we met her, and she was doing her best to get it back. In this version of the story, that means taking some people down along the way. And, she's definitely no hero.

Let's just say chapter four was the mid-season finale and this is the spring hiatus trailer. And with that, I'll give you a game plan for this entire story.

We're going to finish this story by end of year.

In my story, season two of the tv series Batwoman parallels season one of the tv series Revenge, which will end with chapter 7.

I'm more or less skipping season two of Revenge, and will parallel season three for both shows.

I'll conclude with that season, too, ending on chapter 12. We're almost posting month for month with 2023, so that feels like a nice timeline.

Meet me here on Tumblr next Friday for part one of chapter five. Here's an out of sequence and context snippet from that part.

CHAPTER FIVE SNEAK PEEK

Tommy: “I knew you should have never trusted Robyn.”

Kate: “What are you talking about?”

Kate sips her drink, annoyed by the sudden accusation and shift in conversation. She wasn’t even aware that Tommy had an issue with Robyn.

Tommy: “Isn’t she supposed to be your friend, but she’s moving in on your girl?”

Kate sighs through her nose. 

Kate: “Regardless to how I feel, Sophie isn’t mine. And neither is Robyn. We all met her at the same time. She doesn’t owe any allegiance to me.” 

Tommy: “Right. What a coincidence. She just drops into all of your lives out of nowhere, and now she’s an integral part of it from every angle? You don’t find that odd?”

Kate: “Are you jealous of my relationship with Robyn? Because she’s been nothing but nice to you, so I don’t understand why you would randomly attack her, especially after you saw what just happened to her tonight.”

Tommy: “Seems pretty convenient to me.” 

Kate: “What the hell is convenient about having your recorded therapy session shared with a bunch of strangers?”

Tommy: “Exactly! Strangers! What do you even know about this woman? Because what I see is that your ex seems to be coincidently falling for her, she’s become besties with both Catherine’s and your most trusted employees, and she’s been in Gotham for 5 minutes and is suddenly included in a video leak of Gotham elites.”

Kate: “She IS a Gotham elite, or whatever, if you insist on using those terms. She’s the CEO at Jetirian. Of course she’d use the top recommended therapist. You know what, Tommy? I was just trying to confide in you about Sophie, and this insane rabbit hole you’re digging feels like you’re questioning my judgment in friends. And maybe you’re right about that, because I thought you, my friend, were supposed to be helping me figure out how to get out of this merry go round of feelings about a woman I still love who can barely tolerate me. But maybe you’ve had so much to drink that you’re becoming delusional.”

Tommy, relatively sober, because he’s been more focused on feeding drinks to Kate than consuming them himself, fights back the urge to follow up on the mysterious selection of Robyn as CEO of Jetirian, because he can tell she’s not going to listen to reason tonight. Tommy doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, but as someone who’s pulled a scam or two of his own, he knows one when he sees one. He throws an arm over Kate’s shoulder, bringing her in for a side hug.

Tommy: “Truce bestie! Maybe you’re right. I’ve missed you, and she gets to do all the fun stuff we used to do together. I’m sure you’re right, and I just need to get to know her as well as you do. So, let’s talk about how we get your girl back.” 

~~~~~

See you next week!

All #Batwoman things I do now are in the name of #SaveBatwoman. The month of May has so many fun activities planned for the campaign, including some committee members posting live updates from the #Starfury #Ultimates-Apokolips convention. Go follow @savebatwoman on social Twitter, Instagram, Facebook and YouTube.

#wmw23 #wildmoore week #wildmoore #batwoman #fanfic #ryan wilder #ryan x sophie #sophie moore #save batwoman #lgbtq

[aphrogeneias]

i have always been a slightly more than casual fan of the Beatles but the past year or so i have been really getting into the Beatles but also i feel so like lost when I try to learn their history or lore i guess lol. i know you're a huge fan and was wondering if you had any suggestions of where to start?

all right, bucke up, babe. i have some lifelong knowledge to share with you.

if you haven't already watched the anthology series, that's where i'd recommend you to start. it's pretty comprehensive, there's a cohesive timeline from start to finish, and it's told by the beatles themselves (sans john, unfortunetely, for obvious reasons). i think you can easily find it through torrent, but there's some bits on youtube as well. another documentary that is pretty introductory is the compleat beatles from 1982, which you can watch for free here. there's also the more recent ones like eight days a week, which is about their touring years, and get back, but i believe you must have watched at least one of them by now (but if you haven't, you absolutely should).

oh, and their movies as well! and yes, even magical mystery tour. that's unskippable, i'm sorry. do it for the music clips.

there's also other more specific documentaries like mccartney 3, 2, 1 on hulu and living in the material world which is about george harrison's life and was directed by scorcese. i highly recommend both. there's also "the u.s. versus john lennon" which is a bit a controversial but a must watch in my opinion. same with movies like nowhere boy and two of us.

i also recommend doing a lot of reading. when i was younger i used to read a lot of rock magazines and that's where i got a lot of information about the bands i liked, but those aren't really a thing anymore, unless you look for them online. for example, rolling stone has a really good article about the beatles's break up from 2009 which you can read here, and it gives you some pretty good insight into that moment of their lives. if you want, you can search for more articles that are available online.

as for books, my absolute favorite book about the beatles is called "dreaming the beatles: the love story of one band and the whole world", by music journalist rob sheffield. it's a beautiful book and also a pretty chill read, i highly recommend it, i think it's gonna make you fall in love with them even more. the biography by bob spitz is considered to be the best, most complete one, so i'd recommend that one as well. "revolution in the head: the beatles records and the sixties" is also a favorite of mine.

there's also other books by people who were close to them, like geoff emerick who was their sound engineer, and mark lewisohn who wrote a ton of books on them, i recommend those as well, hunter davis too. there are a ton of books who go song by song and tell the story and recording bits of each of them, that can also be fun if you're more into the details of how their music was made.

the thing about the beatles is that given how huge they are, and how beloved they've been for decades, there's no shortage of content about them. you could search for fan content as well, there are plenty of podcasts out there that are made by huge beatles nerds with all kinds of lore you can find, there's blogs, there's independent publications. you really have to dig in, but there's a whole world of things beatles-related to find out there.

there might be stuff i'm missing out here because, honestly, my introduction to beatles lore was my grandfather telling me those stories when i was a kid, and then when i got more seriously into them when i was a little older i already a pretty solid base of basic knowledge, but i hope i could help somehow <3

#anonymous #inbox #fab4

[altersidearchives]

[Alterbits] The Slime-Encrusted Rabbit Hole (Part Uno)

So, yeah, while I'm mainly focused on video games for this, I am pretty big into cartoons too. So while I was writing up the Nintendo stuff, I decided to look up Nickelodeon and see what I got.

...and I IMMEDIATELY had questions with one of the first things I saw. Robot Jones, on Nick? With a third season?? That's readily available??? And it was also one of the first image results on Google when I searched "Nickelodeon." Taking a guess that it was recently put on a streaming service or whatever. Looks like an Amazon icon or something.

It was being hosted on MySpace of all things. I went onto the site and found it was some kind of watch party feature where you can buy seasons of shows to add to a digital collection, and they had a bunch of Nick ones, which is where the Robot Jones icon came from. On top of a bunch of others.

A page full of Nickelodeon shows on “MySpace Play.” I guess MySpace had a form of success in this timeline. Seems to be a watch party type service, makes sense.

Even more questions started ringing through. There was a show next to the Robot Jones seasons that looked like Elinor Wonders Why, y'know that PBS Kids show? But Elinor looks like a teenager or something. I was able to pull up the show's page, and I got greeted with this.

Getting a bunch of Stranger Things vibes from this. Wonder if that exists in this timeline as well.

I won't keep making comments, I'll let the cap speak for itself on this one, but that's when I decided I had to look into it further. Obviously I couldn't buy the show, I doubt I could put in a credit card from a parallel universe and I was NOT about to try it. I caught a glimpse of a Glove and Boots character too, if you can see it in the first screencap. So I was definitely having my curiosity peaking at that point. So I went to the Wikipedia page for Nickelodeon, and started to dig.

Hoo boy.

Now at first this didn’t seem all too crazy. The logo was different but I already got a glimpse of that on the MySpace thing. The first big difference was the “Paramount Universal” thing. I didn’t look much into that, so my only assumption is that Viacom merged with Universal instead of CBS and Comcast eating them up. At least I HOPE that’s what happened instead of the potential monopolistic nightmare that all four combined would be, but I digress.

Next up, looked like Nick Jr. died at some point, interesting, and there’s a full-on NickRewind network that seems to have taken over Nicktoons. I read on and it sounded not too crazy. The “Elements of Harmony” bit caught my eye, but I wanted to keep reading onwards, save it for later.

....The last paragraph caught me RIGHT the fuck off-guard. Two YouTube channels getting full-on shows on Nick, let alone rather, niche ones. I mean yeah, in our timeline we got FRED and ReactToThat (ew), but those channels were HUGE back then and were practically controlled by big companies anyhow. I dunno if JacknJellify and the GaB guys were bigger in this timeline or what but, wow. Shit’s getting weirder.

Didn’t bother reading the History bit, I thought that’d be way too much to shove into this anyway, but there were more interesting tidbits, I’ll spare the redundancy and not comment here, buuuuuut I did see a mention of Pikwik Pack and Let’s Go Luna (and what I think might be Xavier Riddle? That’s one of the ones I didn’t look at), so what happened to PBS Kids here? I thought the Elinor bit I saw was just a coincidence, but no I guess?

So I clicked on the list...

#Alterbits #nickelodeon #Alternate History #robot jones #elinor wonders why

[allycat75]

Real? Fake? Don't care. Just disgusting!

Ok, time to scream into the void. Another long one.

I know I don't know Chris, but what this GQ article made abundantly clear is that Chris doesn't know Chris either. I really shouldn't care, but as part of the social contract I signed when I agreed to be a human being, when I see someone in trouble, I try to help. So here are some things Chris needs to hear since he seems to be surrounded yes (wo)men and sycophants.

Let me start with the petty shit, since we know you can appreciate that. Here are some synonyms for quotidian: prosaic, diurnal, perennial, ubiquitous, de rigueur. You often worry you sound pretentious as fuck in these interviews, and yes, yes you do. And what are you wearing- is that a t-shirt with a mesh tank? I thought a mesh tank on its own was bad. Way to make it worse! The Columbo look at least made me giggle.

Ok, now for the hard stuff.

Since I want this to be constructive feedback, you should know I am fucking awesome. And I got this way not by being perfect or ignoring my flaws, but by recognizing I am perfectly imperfect and each day offers me an opportunity to be a little better. A tragedy isn't a tragedy unless lessons are lost. There are gifts everywhere, but if you are constantly pondering your belly button, you will miss them.

First, the pictures. I know you don't have a lot of say on this, but what's with the dead eyes? There is nothing there, no twinkle or joy. Like a depleted soul- you can't hide that. You certainly don't look like a man who is head over heals in love and happier than he has ever been.

And you say you feel like a spectator in your life. Maybe that is because you are not living it. You don't need to get out of your head, you need to dig in and explore. The focus very much needs to be on yourself- the good, the bad and the ugly. Get to know the amazing stuff, the useless stuff you can ignore and the stuff you need to work on. It's like a messy closet- just because you don't open the door, doesn't mean it isn't there. And the more stuff you throw in there the messier it gets and the infrastructure collapses. Saying the small makes you unhappy doesn't make it go away. I dare say it makes it grow exponentially (ironically). Enjoy the macro, but you must not ignore the micro. It's all connected. Besides, you look pretty unhappy anyway.

It has nothing to do with an "egoic narrative", whatever the fuck that means. Get away from this pseudo-self help bullshit you have been "practicing" for years. I am also concerned you are self medicating with weed. Listen, I love me some weed, but I think you are using it to run away. Try a good therapist who can help you through the dark forest of your mind because you can't stay still, it's too long to go around, and there is nothing for you if you go back.

And as an over planner myself, I would not call you a kindred spirit in this realm. What you call planning is actually perseverating where you get into a constant loop which distracts you, often forcing you to make rash and counterproductive decisions (which is why we find ourselves here now).

Next, no one expects you to be Captain America, but do not think that right now you have any morality or personal integrity to be proud of. You have spent over a year being duplicitous, blaming your fans for everything (now you added Ghosted to that list, a film you co-produced), you have sacrificed your reputation as a feminist, anti-racist and defender of Jews (you do remember taking on David Duke, right?). Take some responsibility for your choices, whether this relationship is real or fake, you have made a mockery of love, manipulated situations ("my girlfriend that I've had for awhile..."; you sound like that kid in high school who tries to convince you he has a girlfriend in Canada; you can't even keep the timeline straight) and made your friends and family complicit in the lies. And now you are king of the incels? I have heard you talk about your legacy, and I now don't trust a word that has ever come out of your mouth, but is this what you want your legacy to be?

Let's be clear, you haven't worked all year because you couldn't book anything and then the strikes happened. And check your Privlege- do not talk about how financially secure you are when your kinsman are picketing in the hot sun and having to go to the food bank to feed their families. This interview was probably done prior to the strikes, but they were brewing and you should have known this would not be a good look. Also, this may not be your decision to make at this point- Hollywood may call your bluff this time. I think you are talented when you are passionate about something and I do not blame you for wanting to get out of the cesspool, but are you prepared to give up the perks and adoration, as well as the creative outlet?

I think that is all for now. I don't think you or your minions lurk here but on the off chance they do, you have said you value meaningful, authentic discourse. If that is true, and since I really am worried about you for some reason, I welcome a healthy discussion and debate, you know, like adults do, if you would like to provide your perspective of this mess.

(No, I don't think he lurks here, just yelling into a void)

#was it worth it?

[eggs-can-draw]

komaeda anon: you really can't tell me that arm doesn't rot so fast since it's pretty exposed okay, so Armdroid. Real reason he's hiding it is bc he replaced the arm with a fake one that looks dead but no it's his Armdroid

me: if the transplantation didn't go well it would be swollen within days but in canon timeline somehow (more his luck than Mikan's skill, she's a nurse, not a surgeon) it did and he still has that arm when he wakes up from the NWP in 2.5? but yeah, it should have rotted away and give him a gangrene

you: first off I have a theory that the Junko hand isn't actually like attached. His hand was amputated and he still removed hers, but both are sealed up and either stitches together with no internal organs meshing, or he's using the bandages to keep them together. I dunno that's at least my explanation for how he hasn't died from like 17 different infections. For Fuyuhiko I'm willing to believe it's infected, and for Mikan she might be taking medication or smth to prevent sepsis. 100% believe Fuyuhiko got the Junk-eye removed asap post game, Mikan might still need medication for the you know what

Yin: yeah post despair Mikan definitely but I doubt pre nwp Mikan would WANT to take medicine for it

you: yeah but I could also see it as something she does so she can 'Continue her beloved's legacy' n stuff. I feel like the market for cool glass eyes on Fuyuhiko is too unexplored. Imagine like one that looks like a snake eye or smth

Yin: and au wise mini Kokichi just hides it just because of pranking Fuyuhiko: WHERE'S MY EYE?! mini Kokichi, standing in front of the potted plant he hid it in: who knows, uncle Fuyuhiko, it's a mystery

Nagito: Kichi do you know where my arm went? mini Kokichi in front of a different potted plant he hid it in: who knows, dad, it's a mystery

he just hides people's things in potted plants and his hiding stuff skills do NOT get better lol Miu: ey cockichi where's my tools?? Kokichi in front of the same potted plant as the last time he hid stuff: who knows bitchlet you probably had Kiiboy swallow them for fun

Shuichi: Kokichi where's my hat? Kokichi in front of THE SAME POTTED PLANT: wow Shumai, how dare you accuse me, I'm offended!! Shuichi: Kichi, I've known you since forever. I KNOW it's in that plant Kokichi: rude

firedemongaming: 'then why did you even ask?' 'I wanted to give you the opportunity to confess like you just did'

Yin: Kokichi: touché, Shumai, rude but touché Kaede: Kichi, have you seen my sheet music? Kokichi in front of the potted plant: kay-ay-day you're accusing me?! bursts into fake tears Kaede: Kichi ever since we met you've done the exact same thing twice a week, I KNOW it's in that plant Kokichi:...... whaaaaaat nooooooo books it Kaede: digs in the plant dirt and pulls out the sheet music every single time hahaha

firedemongaming: Correction, there is a single time he experiences better hiding skills and naturally it's to annoy Kaito. Kaito; 'ok. Where is it?' Kokichi: stood In front of a potted plant 'where's what?' Kaito: 'my space pen. Where is it?!' Kokichi: 'i have no idea what you're talking about!' Kaito: 'you hid it in the plant pot, didn't you?' Kokichi: 'whaaaat? Noooo! I'm offended you'd even suggest that' Kaito: 'yeah right' starts digging through the plant pot, only to realise it wasn't there. 'I swear, I will find where you hid it and there will be consequences!' storms off Kokichi: walks over to the flower pot opposite the one he stood in front of and pulled out a space pen buried just below the surface 'silly Kaito didn't ask which flower pot' He hides the pen in the pot kaito has already checked. Just to fuck with him more

Shu walks up to him: why do you have that Kokichi, smug: to get back at him for taking my oreos Shu:didn't you take his takis first? Kokichi:... irrelevant, wanna help me hide this? Shu:..... sure Kokichi: lead the way my beloved Shumai Shu: if you keep saying stuff like that people are gonna think we're dating Kokichi:.....we're not???

I really need to draw this at some point lol

#eggs can answer #nagito komaeda #STRIKES AGAIN

[sharkneto]

You mentioned yesterday that you had an idea for a Five and Allison post-S3 fic. Would you be interested/willing to ramble about that while on your train ride? (StacyandtheSnark, I'm not logged in on my phone)

Ah, the post-S3 fic. It's been slow going, I think I need to rewatch S3 again to get a better handle on where everyone is at. But it's mostly Allison and Five talking (shocking coming from me, I know).

The angle I'm working with on it is that Allison is a little estranged from the family living her Perfect Life with Raymond and Claire. They've been in the new timeline a few months. Allison still has her powers, the rest of them do not. Allison does not know this. Five reaches out to see each other - motivated both by wanting to see how she's doing after everything and because he needs to know where she's at after the "betrayal" of her making a deal with Reggie. He's been busy drinking and having a terrible time being 13 and powerless. Five learns Allison still has her powers and that only ups the tension on his end because he's too aware of the power imbalance between them. There's tension, there's miscommunication, there's an argument, there's real talk finally happening and the air being cleared.

I have snippets of dialogue but it hasn't wanted to really come together. I keep poking at it, rotating Five and Allison in my mind.

A snip, if mobile cooperates:

“Anything interesting?” Five asks mildly from behind her.

Allison stiffens despite being pretty sure she’s not doing anything wrong. “What is all this, Five?” She turns away from the desk of files to look at him.

He stares back, leaning in the bedroom doorway, a box of Chinese takeout in his hand. “Luther’s stuff to find Sloane,” he says easily. He pulls a fork out of the box to shove some noodles into his mouth.

“I got that. What’s this?” She holds up the first page on Hargreeves Enterprises.

It’s a long second as he chews and swallows before responding, “You aren’t curious about Dad’s monopoly on the world?"

“I thought you were retired.”

“A man needs a hobby.”

“And yours is corporate espionage?”

“Well, I’m very interested in capitalism.”

Allison gives her brother a long, flat look. Five holds it, taking another bite of noodles. She sighs; this isn’t what she wants this to be. She’s here for a reunion and she can be civil on her side of things. If it falls apart it’s not going to be her fault. Pushing herself past all of that, she backtracks. “So, there’s been no sign of Sloane?” She gestures to the piles of Luther’s papers.

“Nothing yet.”

“But… Ben was with you when you left the hotel. And Lila, right? Why not Sloane? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Five shrugs. He’s giving her that tight look again, like he’s looking for something in her. Too casual, he says, “No idea. It’s a new timeline, whole new reality. It’s hard to say.”

“Wouldn’t you know?”

“Your continued confidence in my knowledge in how every timeline works is flattering but no. Not without digging through to find exactly how things are different here and tracking down which thread is the relevant one to change that specific bit, and I’m limited on that front now.”

Allison’s brow furrows. “What do you mean you’re limited?”

Five’s hand falters slightly as he’s bringing a forkful of noodles to his mouth, but he recovers and takes his bite. After swallowing he says, “Because I am but one man. And as continues to be infuriatingly relevant, I look like a goddamn kid.”

That’s never stopped Five before. She keeps staring at him. Something is off. She studies him. He studies her back, slurping up a long noodle from the box.

The phone ringing startles them both. Five frowns and turns to wander back to the kitchen. Allison follows. They stand together and stare at the phone where it sits in its cradle on the counter. It keeps ringing, breaking through the quiet of the small apartment.

“Are you going to get that?” Allison asks as it continues .

“Not my phone.”

They keep watching it. The answering machine clicks and Luther’s voice says, “Hey, you reached Luther Hargreeves. Leave a name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. After the beep.” Static flickers for a few seconds before the beep rings out.

On the other end, the person clears their throat and then, in a low, husky voice, says, “Hey, Five, pick up if you’re there. I know Luther’s out of town so you’re probably going to stay there but let me know so I know if I should order more Thai for tonight. Klaus might be coming, if that changes your mind one way or the other. Oh, and, um, the paperwork came for the GED stuff, I put it on the counter. The emancipation stuff I think is going to be harder than we thought but we might be good if we can get things that say you’re fourteen. I put the papers on that with the GED stuff… Um. Anyway. Call me back before you get too drunk tonight so we can coordinate. Love you.” More static and then it clicks off.

Allison turns to Five. “Made a new friend in the last few months?” That casual love you bounces around her head.

His expression pinches. “Viktor?”

“What? Viktor?” That doesn’t make sens—Oh. “Oh! I—"

Five has put together the same pieces she did. “It’s a recent development,” he hurries to say. “His voice, uh, only really dropped the last couple weeks.” He focuses on stabbing the lo mein some more.

“No, yeah, of course.” Allison almost wants to replay the message, hear that low voice again so she can place it to Viktor.

She really hasn’t talked to her family in months.

#idk s3 kind of fights me #i think i do just need to rewatch #pay more attention to everything going on with allison #because she has a lot going on #thanks for the ask! #fic blogging #snips