#and mix that with a character you can project heavily upon. one you can project queer/neurodivergent hcs on even.

[quietwingsinthesky]

thinking about how dean’s character gets simplified in fandom, or more specifically, the very black and white lens that gets applied to him. because integral to dean, from my point of view, is that he is both a victim of abuse and a perpetrator of it. that these two things do not cancel each other out or outweigh each other to the point that only one matters. he’s both, you cannot separate him from the fact that he’s both.

but very often, people do. dean is either a victim. or he’s an abuser. it’s like it’s hard for people to hold both those facts in their heads at once. dean went through incredible amount of trauma as a child and an adult, is routinely faced with violence, has resorted to alcohol abuse to cope with it. he’s also a violent person, someone who retreats into tactics of emotional abuse and control when he feels threatened, who hurts the people around him constantly and the people who are closest to him (ie Sam, Cas, later Jack) get the brunt of that abuse. these are just facts. they’re things that happened on the screen and cannot be denied.

and it’s. idk it’s weird to me (not unexpected, because he’s hardly the only character to ever get this treatment) that dean of all people is the one portrayed in such an either/or way when one of the defining moments of the show for him is that during his stint in Hell, he was tortured and then became a torturer to escape that, to feel like he had some control again, and he relished in it. it’s baked into who he is.

#dean as a victim of abuse who goes on to continue those behaviors is still important to me surprise surprise #i didnt want to put this in the main post but also. from observation. when people start projecting onto him This Gets Worse #because. you know. as noted before: big fandom - lots of queer & neurodivergent people here. #tend to be targetted by abuse. statistically. #and mix that with a character you can project heavily upon. one you can project queer/neurodivergent hcs on even. #then like! understandably stressful to reckon with him being canonically kind of shitty sometimes! no one wants to consider their own #potential for shittiness - not even through a character they just heavily relate to! #(note: opposite happens as well. people project onto sam -> see dean hurt sam -> block out the idea that dean could be just as much victim #as he is abuser. its just. easier like that.) #anyway. none of this is like. a crime. just an observation. really we get all our biases from the society we live in — a society obsessed #with perfect victims and evil unredeemable abusers. #all that stuff leaks into fandom takes whether we want it to or not #dean winchester #spn

[luminitewrites]

In a Different Light: Scene Two

Back with part two of the Sleuth Jesters!actor AU! AO3 link is above, but the entire chapter will also be included below, as usual. And of course, many thanks to @naffeclipse for these characters who have lived rent free in my head for months now hehe <3

Hope you all enjoy! It's time for those other kisses.

Rating: T Word Count: ~23,300 Content Warnings: Very mildly suggestive content Summary: The animatronic sighs heavily.

“Yes, I know I should have gone with the handcuffs instead. But why else am I supposed to wear suspenders if not to seductively slide them off for you one at a time?”

As he says this, he reaches up and hooks a finger underneath one of the straps. His air is nothing short of coy, like an idea has just taken shape in his devious mind, and he slowly eases the fabric across his shoulder, flirting with slipping it over the edge. A curled metal digit suggestively rubs the suspender. It would probably have a much greater effect on you if his little show wasn’t currently being backed by cheery elevator music, and that alone has your lips spasmodically twitching.

Sun gives the impression of waggling his brows, rife with an emotion you refuse to label.

“Are you seduced yet?” he croons.

~~~

The city streets on New Year’s Eve paint a scene of winter white awash in the pale yellow shine from stores and lampposts. Strings of warm lights keep the sidewalks appearing deceptively cozy, but you know that just beyond the cold glass of the car window is an even brutally colder world. The temperature at last dipped to the single digits today, and with the sun having just disappeared below the horizon, casting the sky in a dark blue and gray mix, everything will freeze over tonight.

Craning your neck so that you can see the sky better, you know that the heavy darkness that greets you from above holds layers of clouds thick with snow. The forecast you caught a glimpse of on the TV before Moon had ushered you out of your home stated that the snowfall accumulation was anticipated to reach an extra five inches.

Probable reason to stay indoors. That hasn’t stopped your work party from staying on schedule at some ritzy, swanky hotel the city is known for, and nothing short of a disaster will impede the event. The show must go on, or so the producer had said. Attendance isn’t mandatory, as today is a company-observed holiday, but it is heavily encouraged since the one previously planned earlier had to be postponed to tonight. Maybe you’re the fool for going to this one, but you’ve actually been really looking forward to it. It’s a chance to celebrate with everyone all the hard work they’ve put into each scene. When the final episode of your team’s triumphant efforts airs, another party will be due, but this one feels extra special despite filming not being done yet. You’re welcoming in the new year together, and after all the time you’ve spent getting to know your coworkers, not going to the party held tonight would feel like you’re missing out immensely. You need this reprieve just as much as everyone else does. 

And… well. The present company attending the party certainly factors into your desire to go. One-third of your favorite attendees sits next to you now, and you pull away from the window of the car to peer at Moon instead.

The beloved hat from his detective costume remains firm on his head—the sole piece he seems to have grown a deep attachment to. It suits him well and almost makes you feel like you’re still in the middle of a shoot, acting out a scene with Detective Moon in his patrol car as you scour the city together.

His gloved hands rest on the wheel, and his eyes remain fixated on the road ahead. A very good thing, given his typical driving habits and the fact that you’re sure he knows most of the city police by name now. Not by choice either. That’s exactly why you didn’t relay to Sun or Eclipse how you were getting to the party until you’d fastened your seatbelt. For one, when Moon had offered to come pick you up and escort you to the hotel, how could you have possibly said no to that? It sure beats paying for an expensive lift to the event. For another, the texts you’ve since received are nothing short of concerned. After the string of praying emojis Sun had posted in the group chat, you’d decided to just put away your phone for the time being.

You’ll be fine. Moon hasn’t hit any obstacles yet, literal or figurative, though that was a bit of a close brush with a tree he had on that last turn.

As he often does, he senses your eyes on him without needing to check. 

“I can feel your stare digging into my faceplate. What is it?” His voice starts out in that soft grumble you’ve come to adore, but then his low pitch lifts to a little more lilting—a tease. “See something you like, maybe?”

The instinctive response that wants to clamber out of your throat is quickly choked down. Even though he’s the one who’s mentioned it, you suspect he has no idea. You’ve long since soared past “liking” him. That conversation you had with Eclipse weeks ago has not left your thoughts since. Every day at work, every night in bed, you’ve thought about what he’d said. What he’d done. You now know that the attraction you feel for the others is not just in your head. That part is indisputable. Having a relationship with Sun, Moon, and Eclipse is appealing to you in no small amount. You just needed the time to realize that on your own and make sure that this attraction wasn’t only a passing fancy.

Judging by how every single one of your waking thoughts has been centered on them for countless hours, you’re pretty sure you have your answer.

In a rare burst of what’s either bravery or stupidity, you decide to throw caution to wind. Your fingers wiggle as they sneak over Moon’s arm that’s closest to you and then dip around his wrist. There is a flash of red as he briefly glances away from the snowy roads, but he has to snap his attention back to the traffic around him. A car honks not too far away.

Honey couldn’t be sweeter than the smile that curls up your face. 

Buoyantly, like you haven’t spent hours agonizing over how to approach your feelings for him, you say in a singsong, airy tone, “I might.”

Moon chuffs. His dry amusement at your antics never fails in elevating your mood, though you couldn’t be happier as it is. You squeeze his wrist playfully, and his hand clenches around the steering wheel. Only a matter of time now.

The swish of the windshield wipers fills the quiet, broken only by the clicking of the turning signal as Moon takes a harrowing left. You’re honestly surprised he remembered to signal at all. His fingers drum atop the wheel while his processor tries to determine if this is a game worth playing. He knows as well as you just how risky diverting any of his fleeting attention from driving is, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t against having a fun time.

Your fingers skirt along the edge of his glove, cheekily dipping in just an inch, and Moon shakes his head.

“You’re betting your life, piccolina.”

You wrinkle your nose at the pet name.

“I’m not that small.”

Moon, contrary to his trepidation, lifts the hand you’ve been toying with off of the steering wheel just to give you a so-so gesture. You snatch the opportunity to claim your prize, but you get the impression that Moon purposely lets you take his hand. His glove creaks as leather intertwines with your own fingers, lacing together and squeezing.

You beam proudly at your catch, and Moon rubs his thumb across your knuckles. He thankfully doesn’t look away from the streets, so you take full advantage of smiling at him and enjoying the moment with your friend. Moon’s presence always embodies a sort of calm that lulls you. He’s someone you can sit with in quiet and not worry about filling the space with words. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve woken up from snoozing on his shoulder. Whenever that happens, you always apologize profusely, but for some reason, it just keeps repeating itself, and Moon thoroughly basks in it—both in getting you to relax that much and also being able to razz you relentlessly about it when you wake up.

You suppose it’s a small price to pay.

“Comfortable?” your companion’s voicebox thrums.

Yes. Very much so. Incredibly so, in fact. But you can’t say that because you don’t want to drop the teasing nature that Moon evokes. The kindness in the simple question wraps around you like a warm hug.

“I suppose,” you trail off with a shrug, and though Moon isn’t even peeking at you, he can certainly see the movement in his peripheral.

He flicks the signal again when he reaches his next turn. You don’t have the heart to tell him he’s signaling in the wrong direction though because at least he remembered to do it, and that’s what counts. As he slowly twists the wheel with only one hand, you hold your breath and hope some of the praying emojis Sun spammed in the group chat have a good effect. The tires skid a little in the slush of the road, but Moon miraculously doesn’t lose control, and he navigates onto the next street without further incident.

You breathe again.

“You suppose?” Moon drawls now that he’s not intensely focused on not crashing into a pedestrian or oncoming traffic. Or not as focused, you should say. 

“Mhm.” You tap your free hand on your thigh and assess the current arrangement that begs to be malleable and crafted to your liking. An idea begins to form.

You glance at the time on the dash. The party started a half-hour ago, which means you and Moon are already late. It’s fifty-fifty on who’s to blame for that one, so you don’t really feel too bad. What’s a few more minutes? Granted, his brothers will probably begin a search party if you don’t show up soon, but you’ll take that gamble.

“So I was thinking,” you cautiously open with, and the words roll across your tongue as you draw them out.

Moon groans.

With a dour metaphorical tongue, he drones, “Here we go.”

He’s already clued in on what you’re doing, and you have to bite your own tongue to stop the laugh that wants to come out when he tightens his grip on your hand. Depending on his mood and how charitable he’s feeling, the lunar animatronic can be swayed by your charm into going along with some scheme or another as long as it’s legal. Often, he’s one-half of the voices of reason in keeping you in line while another brother backs him up (the third being more easily swayed by your wily ways, and you’re not going to name names, but it’s Sun). However, Moon is overlooking one important fact: He’s currently alone with you. You don’t need much more than that.

The seconds drag on as Moon waits for you to lay out your clearly devilish scheme befitting only the worst of criminals. When it becomes apparent that you won’t, he gives another synthetic groan that is entirely disproportionate to the situation at hand, and at the next red light, he comes to a full stop only a little past the white line. Then, he turns to you.

“What is it you want?” he gruffly demands, like you’re about to ask him to commit petty crimes with you again.

Honestly. You’d only asked him that once, and that was just because you’d wanted to see if the vigilante style would suit you in this life too. Moon had acted like you’d offered to start a mob instead, the very opposite of what you were going for, and you think that maybe playing detective has gotten a little too into his head because he’d threatened to turn you over to the cops he apparently knows so well if he caught you doing anything nefarious.

Maybe you should have approached Sun first about that. He seems more like the type to let you do some shady Robin Hood-esque business while covering for you. 

But a little vigilantism isn’t on your plate tonight. Instead, you flutter your eyelashes at Moon, teeth peeking past your lips as you lose the fight in controlling your smile.

“I’d like a coffee please.”

A few more seconds of silence. His eyes don’t leave you for any of it, but you can practically see the mathematical formulas floating past him as he tries to parse for anything illegal in your request.

Slowly, like he’s defusing a bomb, he says, “I’m sure they’ll have that at the party.”

To that, you then amend, “Yes, but I’d like a specialty coffee.”

“…And this coffee would be special how?”

“Because you’ll stop at that really good café a few blocks from the hotel to get it for me?”

It comes out as a question, but your hopefulness is tinged well throughout. You’d clasp your hands in front of your chest if you weren’t already holding his. 

Moon is sometimes difficult to get a read on, and even with no distractions around you, you can’t quite discern if he’s on your side this time. He searches your face like he’s studying some ancient script, committing lines to memory. His thumb still hasn’t stopped the soothing paths it follows across your hand.

Two quick presses to a car horn from behind jolt you and Moon. He resumes driving again, focusing back on the snowy road, and you reluctantly accept that you won’t get your way this time. That’s okay. Disappointing, but you can’t win them all. You’ll finagle things into your favor next—

“Tell me where to go,” comes the defeated exhale from your beloved companion.

You resist the wild urge to cheer and instead gleefully direct him to your new destination. It doesn’t take long to find it at all since the shop is directly along your current route. Incredibly, it’s still open even this evening—just what you were hoping for. Since the storm has begun to worsen, few people are out and about, which means rare street parking is open. Moon pulls into a space that is just a little ahead of the café, and you give his parallel parking the compliment that is due. 

He’s actually really far from the curb in a way that would have not flown if he were taking his driver’s test, but there’s enough room for other cars to squeeze past his if need be. So you’re still proud of him. He gives you a sort of suspicious, sideways frown, but you can tell from the bashful hunch of his shoulders that he’s preening at the attention nonetheless.

Whoever approved his driver’s license is either an angel or an advocate for causing trouble.

You offer to go into the café alone, but he quickly shuts that down and tells you to give him your drink order instead. You reluctantly do, and as you’re rummaging in your coat pocket to give him money for the drink, he’s already out the door and telling you to stay put. The door then slams shut, and Moon hurries through whirling snow to the well-lit doors of the café.

Slumping in your heated seat with an exasperated sigh, you watch him with fondness budding in your chest. He left the car running so you wouldn’t be left in the cold—just another gesture that makes you feel odd inside. Like you’re restless and full of energy that you don’t know what to do with. You’re overflowing with affection for someone you hadn’t known until just months ago, and now, you consider him to be one of your best friends.

For some reason, your head is spinning with emotion.

In the cozy interior of the car, you watch through the snowflakes dotting the passenger window as Moon’s dark silhouette flutters about in the store. The edge of his thick overcoat sweeps around the back of his knees, and the hat he stole from set casts most of his head in shadow. You don’t think he ever intends to part with it. Maybe you should take a page from his book and nab some spare ribbon and bells when all is said and done. The character you play isn’t you, but you can’t help the connection you’ve developed with the vigilante over time. Parting from the show without taking a memento seems wrong. After all, it’s this role that led you to meeting some truly amazing people.

Moon wraps up with the order in little to no time and hustles back to the car as fast as his spindly legs will carry him. The winter wind whooshes inside the car when he opens the door and scurries inside. Just as quickly, the door shuts behind him, and he whistles from the cold shock.

“Might become a block of ice if it gets any chillier out there,” he hisses in a fizzle of static. “I can feel the snow getting in my joints.”

“Don’t worry, mon clair de lune,” you reassure, cranking up the heat to full blast for him. “I’ll be sure to warm you up before you become an icicle.”

“Believe that is my job,” Moon drawls, and he passes you a deliciously smelling to-go cup. “Here.”

He presses the hot cup of coffee into your waiting hands, and you greedily latch onto it while wholeheartedly extending your gratitude.

The aromatic sweetness hits your nostrils fully as you take a deep breath. Pure delight runs through your blood, and you hastily take a very long drag from the wonderful drink, swishing the steaming liquid around on your tongue before swallowing.

“Oh, I could kiss you right now,” you whisper into the lid of your coffee.

Thoroughly savoring the taste of your next sip, your eyelids flutter closed as the heat penetrates that frosty layer that had been persistently clinging fast. This is exactly what you needed. After another deep breath to relish in the richness, you glimpse over to find Moon’s pleased optics on you, soft and as warm as your drink. His smile is small, like he isn’t aware of it. But it changes before you can get a good look, and a familiar slyness overtakes all else.

“What’s stopping you?” he brazenly needles. He’s just playing around again, a harmless prod, but his innocuous question makes you pause like a deer in headlights.

Your hands are warmed by your to-go cup, the wind is whipping at a brisk pace outside the car, and your heart is abruptly thump, thump, thumping away in your chest at a breakneck speed that rivals the December gust.

Such a small, simple, harmless question makes something apparent to you then. There’s no one here but you and him, nothing else to demand your attention. Nothing to hold you back or make you doubt yourself or put you on the spot. It’s just you and the sweet lunar animatronic you hold very dear to your heart.

In this brief ounce of privacy between you and him, you feel a touch braver than usual.

“You know…” your voice mumbles, more to yourself than him, “I can’t really think of anything that is.”

The kiss—correction: two kisses—from Eclipse a few short weeks ago flashes in your mind. He hasn’t pushed once since giving you time to think about it, about how you feel about him. His brothers. A relationship with all three. You’ve been given time to consider fostering that with each of them if your heart yearns for your friends as much as you now know they yearn for you. It hadn’t quite clicked before the reveal that they wanted you. Since Eclipse’s confession, it’s never felt more real, and the way each of them act around you should have clued you in much sooner.

At least you know better now. There’s no writing off the lingering looks or touches or the words that sometimes carry a heavy tint to them. No, they all have meaning finally, and it’s felt like agony forcing yourself to slow down and think things through in the events leading up tonight.

The only one who’s pumping the breaks is you. Nothing is keeping you from just… letting go. No one is here to be a voice of reason as Moon sits beside you, closer than he’s been in weeks. Eclipse said he’d let his brothers speak for themselves about their feelings, but they’ve seemed to avoid the topic out of courtesy to you. No doubt their big brother told them about the moment he’d shared with you in that small alcove under a snowy night, much like tonight. Ball’s in your court now, and you have the chance to play.

You know what your heart wants. You’re sure of it.

So it’s a natural, easy choice for you to give in to the temptation whispering in your ear to stop resisting and just close the distance.

Moon doesn’t move an inch as you lower your drink in one hand and near, the only indication of him realizing what’s coming shown in the widening of his eyes.

With a small sweep of your fingers, you tip back your detective’s hat, hesitating only a moment to wait for any signs of discomfort from either you or him. Finding none but only the giddy anticipation coiling in your stomach and the inviting, subtle lean Moon makes in your direction, you slowly lid your gaze shut, tune out the pounding in your ears, and brush your lips against the cold metal of his cheek.

They demurely curl upward at the crackling gasp he emits. The sound has you wanting to stay, wanting to hear it again. You settle for trailing a ghost of another kiss just along that delicate swirl of metal. Before he can have a chance to react beyond that and before you can start second-guessing your actions, you pull away. Your heart won’t stop racing. It feels like your body is hardly contained to your seat at all and that you’ll glide away if you breathe too hard.

Moon’s dark pupils are blown incredibly large and round. His reaction is exactly what you were hoping for, and a small burst of pride wells behind your sternum. You did that. You made him react that way. You.

It’s a small tick in your confidence category, but even greater is the joy that grows wings and takes flight with you on its back. Moon gapes at you like you’re from the stars above, and you’ve never seen him stare at you like that before, but it’s already strengthening the heat in your cheeks. 

You give him a moment to process and then delicately clear your throat.

“Shall we get going?” you ask your silent companion in an attempt to play coy. Internally, you’re a fumbling mess of a human who’s running around in circles like a dog chasing its tail. The coffee cup trembles in your hand.

Even with your little prodding, he doesn’t seem to quite come out of whatever spell you’ve accidentally tossed him under. Well. Not entirely on accident. You very much kissed him on purpose.

Moon releases a thin hiss of air, like his cooling components are working overtime. He blinks once. Twice.

“What was that for?” he finally utters with tangible awe, but it’s little more than a breath. His voice could melt you into a puddle right in your seat.

You think back to what Eclipse said to you that night at the start of the month. A helpless shrug lifts your shoulders.

“Oh, you know. Just felt like getting a head start on the new year’s tradition.” Then, to make sure he’s on the same page as you, you add, “I take it Eclipse told you what happened a few weeks ago. About… testing the waters.”

Instead of scoffing, Moon softens almost imperceptibly. You’re starting to think he has no intentions of ever looking away. He lifts a hand towards you but then hesitates. Searches you for something you aren’t sure of. You lean your head to the side in invitation, and his hand cups your face much like Eclipse’s had.

In a sotto voce tone that crawls into your bones and makes its home there, he murmurs, “Clip asked us to give you time. That you wanted to think about it first. That’s why I—why we haven’t said anything. But I also don’t want you to feel like I’m not interested. Because I am. Interested, that is. Very much. In a way that’s probably more eloquent than I am when I’m around you.”

He gives an adorable little giggle that betrays his nervousness, and you titter alongside him.

Unable to not rib him just a little, you say, “Why, Detective Moon, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were feeling shy.”

“Funny. Don’t get used to it,” he warns, but he’s smiling as he does.

It feels good to know that you’re not the only one off your game at this. Makes it more lighthearted. No perfect lines or filtered dialogue like in front of the camera. The mask is off, and the sight you’re seeing beneath it is even more precious to you.

Moon takes a moment to process his next words, and you can tell by the thin whine stemming from his chassis that he’s heavily considering them. You stay quiet as you wait, and when his brow furrows, you know he’s settled whatever internal debate he was warring with.

The chilled hand is slowly warming at your cheek. The emotion on his face runs parallel to what’s been burning in your heart all this time.

“Would you mind if I got a head start too?” he tentatively asks.

There’s no ignoring the knot in your throat. Your stomach is flooded with antsy excitement, and you try to tuck away an errant strand of hair that keeps falling out of place. You feel like you’re shaking from nerves and eagerness. Imagining this exact moment playing out in your head for the past few weeks is very different from suddenly living it now.

You do your best to hide the thrilled tremor in your voice.

“I don’t see why not.”

The words probably don’t come across as confident or unaffected as you’d like, but then Moon is swiping away that loose bit of hair just as easily as he does so your thoughts. You feel him tuck it behind your ear, his fingers brushing back against your cheek a second time before sneaking around to the back of your scalp.

No resistance is offered when he pulls you close. You let your eyelids fall shut again just in time to shiver at the effervescent tap of his permanent grin to the very small corner of your lips, once again surprising you with the location of the kiss, though you won’t complain one bit about that. He doesn’t keep you for very long, but it’s enough that you have to let out a ragged breath that’s been building up ever since he teased you. His kiss leaves you spinning. That’s two for two that you’ve been caught off guard by a romantic display of affection. Well-played.

He shifts back some so that you can make eye contact—a simple task that you are now failing miserably at with impeccable odds.

You feel faint from the swell of emotion that this animatronic manages to pull to the surface with just a single kiss.

A flighty exhale precedes your shaky voice.

“Would it be cliché if I said ‘wow’ after that?”

Moon’s answering smile shines with elation. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the often stoic animatronic so profusely happy.

But before you can dwell on that, something else then catches your notice from his proximity. You scoot back in a little closer, safely preserving in your memory the tiny noise of shock Moon makes so that you can reflect on it later.

You take a deep breath in, and your curiosity momentarily beats out your fidgety nerves.

“Hang on. Is that… cologne?” you mutter, inhaling another whiff to confirm before leaning back, stunned at your findings. “Did you put on cologne tonight?”

Moon shifts again. Seems you’re not the only one feeling fidgety.

“Why do you ask?” he hedges cautiously, black pupils shifting, and you almost think he sounds defensive until his hand leaves your cheek. His fingers disappear into the insides of his coat, rummaging for something out of your view until he then pulls out—to your complete and incredulous astonishment—a can of WD-40.

He gives it a tiny shake.

“Did you want to use some too?”

In all your daydreams, there were a few things you had imagined happening right after you kissed Moon. Some gentle words. A hug, maybe. In the more risqué scenarios, an inability to breathe as he kissed you senseless again and again. All of those had seemed like viable options on the table of your secret hypotheses.

This, though. This was definitely not one of them, and you are baffled. You refuse to believe he just happened to have that can on him out of complete coincidence. It’s purely inconceivable.

You have to tell him as much.

“You have not been carrying that around all day just for the sake of making that joke.”

Moon’s faceplate rotates several degrees. He squints at you suspiciously. Contemplates the deep meaning of the universe, judging by how long he stays silent. Then, he casually hits you with a bombshell.

“You seem like you could use it.”

Your jaw scrapes the floor.

“Excuse me?! Are you implying that I smell?”

“…‘Implying’ is a rather interesting word choice.”

“Moon!”

Any reservations you might have had are banished by the lurching urge to snatch his beloved little hat from his bald little head and chuck it outside. His self-satisifed aura tells you he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

Before you can think of some wisecrack to put the cretin back in his place, Moon smoothly clarifies, “You smell nice. You always do, actually. It’s light and sweet. Pleasant.” He gently pokes the can’s nozzle against your shoulder. “Just like you.”

You’re left speechless for the second time in as many seconds. Your brain is struggling to keep up with the rapid-fire changes, so you sit there useless for a few moments while trying to think of what to say. 

It’s a little unexpected, is all.

Moon appears to be none the worse for wear. He enjoys your surprise for a bit more and then continues on.

“That’s why I put on something nice-smelling too. Or at least what seems to be popular among you humans. Just wanted to put in a little extra effort. For you. Not the WD-40 though, sorry. That’s only for emergencies.”

While still very unexpected, the reasoning is enough to somewhat loosen your twisted tongue. 

“Emergencies,” you parrot, deadpan.

Moon nods. He surreptitiously sets the can behind you on the floor of the backseat.

After another extended beat, a snort escapes you, your face falls into your hand, and your nostrils flare with your amused exhale. Moon’s fans whir a little louder at the sound, and you sigh again before peeking at him through your fingers.

“You’re a dork, you know that? A buffoon.”

The gremlin is practically vibrating in his seat.

“One might even say I’m a jester.” He waggles his brows. “A sleuth jester.”

“Yeah, one might not.”

Your hand falls from your head. You point an accusatory finger at him.

“Clown behavior. That was terrible and unfunny.”

“Wanna see a magic trick?” he asks with glee.

“No,” you bark out around a loud laugh, and he snickers happily.

You sit together in the warm comfort of the car, and the sense of longing draws you into a contemplative quiet while you watch him, and he does much the same. Your smile is going to wear out from all this use it’s been getting, but you don’t mind at all how effortlessly Moon summons it. He has to do very little to tug that giddiness to the surface. A fact that you’ve taken special notice of more so lately.

His attentiveness is apparent even in his actions, and you want to address that.

“For the record,” you say, more muted than earlier so that Moon hears the subdued seriousness in your voice, “I just want you to know that while you putting in extra effort is really sweet and appreciated, it’s also not strictly necessary. I don’t expect you to go out of your way for me. Getting to spend time with you is more than enough already. You don’t need to change anything about yourself to please me.”

The ruby glow dims a little, and Moon’s hands fiddle with the edge of his coat. You have the sneaking suspicion that if he could blush, his cheeks would be matching his optics right about now.

“I know,” he says back, equally gentle. “Actually, that is part of what endeared you to me. The fact that you don’t care that I’m—that any of us are animatronics and have different functions or needs or even lack of needs that humans do have. But I also know that it’s a custom to put in a little extra effort for someone you care about… someone you might be considering building a relationship with.”

His admission presses down like a leaden weight on your tongue.

“Moon…”

You’re not sure what to follow that with. You wish you could express everything that his heartfelt words are doing to you and how they threaten to stop your heart in its tracks if it keeps missing a beat. 

What you do manage to say, gingerly, is much smaller in comparison than everything you want to express, but it’s a start.

“Thank you for being patient with me.” You swallow the nervous lump in your throat and try to focus past that. Moon waits for you to continue with a silent understanding in his demeanor that speaks volumes. A bit meekly, you say, “I doubt it’s much of a secret anymore how I feel about pursuing that with you, Sun, and Eclipse, huh?”

His hands stop playing with his coat. The crescent splitting the dark sapphire blue and lustrous silver of his faceplate curves an elegant sweep along the metal craftsmanship, and you are reminded not for the first time that Moon is beautiful. In your mind’s eye, you trace an imaginary line around the smooth curls and hidden divots, every slight highlight and blemish and silver scratch. With your imagination taking flight, you are met with a fantasy not unlike the one you’d had of Sun weeks ago. In this one, you sit in Moon’s lap, cradling the lower half of his faceplate in your hands, and your lips find those intricacies to lay a kiss on, to bestow your affection. His own hands paint a delicate dance that rides up the back of your shirt while he flirts with the edges of it.

It’s just as intimate and gripping, and it leaves you shuddering in your seat. As you blink, and the scene dissipates.

You want that. You want it a lot. There’s not a shadow of a doubt in you about that. No shying from the truth now.

All you have to do is take the next step forward into the others’ waiting arms.

Moon doesn’t reply, which you think you appreciate more than a verbal confirmation. He leans away from you back into his seat much to your disappointment and blinks slowly, a languid relaxation to his serene expression. As far as he’s concerned, there’s seemingly no one else in the world now but you and him.

You're tempted. You doubt he’d say no to letting you test the waters with more than just the tips of your toes. But the snow is falling, and you have a party to get to, and you can’t remain frozen forever in this moment. It’s hard to remember your other obligations, but you manage to peel your gaze away.

“We should—” you swallow around your voice crack and clear your throat. “We should probably get going. To the party and all that.”

A rumbling respiration stems from Moon’s metal chassis. The lunar brother reluctantly shakes off his daze, muttering some indiscernible words to himself, and he sets the car back into motion down the street. The hotel isn’t far now, just up ahead and poking through the cloud of dark gray and white whirling outside. Even still, it surprises you when there’s a subtle tug on your wrist.

Moon’s fingers curl around you, slipping one hand free of your cup so that he can grasp it. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, but you don’t need to. His fierce focus on the wet and slushy roads tells you all.

When he pulls up to the hotel’s overhang, the valet draws up to his side to discuss parking. You tune them out in favor of enjoying the two points of warmth in your hands, one around your coffee and the other ensnared in leather. All too soon, Moon lets go and gets out to let the valet take over.

You gather your things and tighten your coat around your waist. In that very short time frame, your door is then swung open, and Moon gives a debonair dip to hold out a hand to you, his other arm behind his back.

“I believe I offered to escort you in,” he remarks with a tinge of coyness. It seems he’s getting a little of that spark back after your moment together.

Your surprised sound at the unexpected gesture threatens to oust you, but you do your best to keep your cool.

“Such a gentleman,” you croon.

His low brush of laughter makes the cold feel not as strong on your cheeks as he helps you out of the car, the heels of your shoes wobbling on the cobblestone until you find your balance. His eyes reflect the twinkling golden ambience of the city lights around you, warm and delighted. They brighten even more when he offers you his arm and you take it happily, shivering from the cold that cuts through the tailored fabric of your suit pants.

Together, you and Moon enter the skyscraper hotel, and after showing your identification to the personnel and each being given some sort of pass, you are fast directed to the second floor where the holiday party is being held. In the elevator, you can’t seem to bring yourself to let go of Moon’s arm. He doesn’t seem too keen on letting you go either. His other gloved hand rests smoothly atop your own as if to keep you there.

As soon as the elevator doors slide open, a symphony of music and conversation greets you. The noise would normally grate against your ears, but with the calm presence of your friend guiding you into the chaos, your shoulders stay relaxed and your steps sure. Several coworkers take notice of your entrance and nod or raise their glasses in celebratory welcome. You wave to your colleagues, but you search for someone else. Technically two someones, but in this crowd, you know you won’t have to look long.

Moon steers you towards the left of the floor where open double doors lead into the main hub of activity. There’s another check-in desk there, but you and Moon only have to flash your name badges to be waved on in. The room echoes the same noise and bustling activity just outside it, with more of the film and production crew milling about and enjoying themselves. Lifting your head, you get a waft of what can only be delicious food, and you absentmindedly let out a pitiful whine as your stomach grumbles.

Soft snickering from above pulls your attention, and you glare at Moon. His merriment shines wide in his teeth.

“Do we need to take a quick detour?” he asks, reading you in a heartbeat.

You release a pained sigh.

“No, I can wait. Let’s find your brothers first.”

“Already done.” Moon points to a table off in the corner, and sure enough, twin sets of rays, one yellow and the other blue and purple, peek out from the chairs. Both are facing away from you since they’re sitting beside each other, so they haven’t noticed your arrival yet, something your feet seem keen on remedying as they hasten over to your friends. You end up dragging Moon along for the ride, but he’s quick to catch himself and match your speed.

Sun and Eclipse appear in deep conversation, the former chattering enthusiastically while the latter answers more slowly, slouched against the wall next to his chair and a hand shadowing his optics. You can’t help but admire how the sharp suits and ties they wear fit them both very attractively, though Sun’s already discarded his coat on the back of his chair. Eclipse catches sight of you and Moon first, and he gives a little wave that makes you accidentally clench Moon’s hand and causes Sun to spin to see you as well just as you reach them.

“It’s about time you got here!” he exclaims. “We were just about to start dinner without you.”

You tut in skeptical disbelief, saying, “A likely story. You can’t even eat, which… makes me wonder. Why are you holding a glass?”

Sun looks at the flute in his hand then back at you.

“What, this? It’s champagne. One of the waitstaff gave it to me, so now I’m trying to blend in. Is it working?”

From over your shoulder, Moon says, “Considering that you start to act tipsy whenever a certain special someone is around, I’d say you fit right in.”

You dutifully ignore Sun’s indignant squeak because your attention is quickly arrested elsewhere. In one chivalrous motion, Moon slips away from your side to pull out a chair for you. Your head ducks as the temperature of the room inches up a couple of degrees, and it only grows stronger when he helps you shed your heavy coat to drape it over the back of the chair. You murmur your thanks and slide into a seat across from Eclipse, Moon pushing your chair back in. He answers with a hum of acknowledgement and takes the one next to you.

Clearing your throat, you attempt to focus on what he’d just said.

“So who’s the special someone?”

Eclipse snorts loudly, and you tilt your head at him, confused. Sun rubs a hand over his optics with a groan. You can hear his internal fans kick on from over here.

The brother sitting next to you is the only one to take pity on you, but his amusement could be classified as tangible.

“I was referring to you, sweetness.”

“Oh.” Your mouth might be hanging a little open, but you can’t be blamed for it. That wasn’t the answer you were expecting. Actually, there are a lot of things happening tonight that you weren’t expecting, and you have a sneaking suspicion they’d be obvious to literally anyone else. “I hadn’t, ah, noticed.”

“Really?” Moon’s voice is dry, intoning more of a statement than a question.

“Don’t be rude,” Sun chastises Moon, but you think that might be because he’s just still embarrassed from his brother’s remark. “They haven’t eaten yet. You can’t be mean to someone with an empty stomach. It’s bad manners.”

Eclipse squints at him.

“How is that considered bad manners, but not the whole being mean part in general?”

“Because I don’t want to exempt myself from being allowed to get on the nerves of my big brother.” Sun turns back to Moon. “Stop kicking me under the table.”

“Move your damn big feet then,” Moon fires back, slumping deliberately in his seat.

The table shudders with a jarring bang, and you carefully tuck your legs close to your chair to avoid catching any crossfire of the sudden battle happening under the white tablecloth. You share a knowing look with Eclipse, and the dazed tiredness in his gaze makes you smile.

He sighs.

“Did you have a safe drive here?”

Was Moon a safe driver for once, is what he’s really asking. You rest your chin in your hand and lean forward.

“It was a nice, smooth ride,” you muse, fingers curling around your coffee cup. “My chauffeur knew some tricks that made the trip seem to go by so much faster. Feels like we got here in no time at all.”

Eclipse sighs and briefly closes his eyes as if calling upon divine intervention. You think if he had an actual nose, he’d be pinching the bridge of it.

“How many red lights did he run?”

“None,” Moon says, rejoining the conversation as if he and Sun weren’t just engaged in a slapdash battle of footsie. “I take care of my passengers and ensure their safety at all costs.”

“Past experience and numerous police tickets say otherwise,” Eclipse returns wryly.

Moon’s grin sharpens.

“Performance is based on tips.”

Pupils as black as midnight peer out once more, flicking between you and Moon in confusion before settling on you.

“And did you… tip him?”

You give Eclipse a conspiratorial wink.

“I held his hand while he drove us here.”

“Mercy.” Sun recoils, absolutely appalled. “You risked him driving with only one hand on the wheel, and in this weather? Are you perhaps feeling unwell?”

“If you try to suggest putting your fingers in my mouth again, we’re gonna have a problem, and that’s a threat.” You point at Sun for emphasis, and he pretends you’re holding him at gunpoint, his hands flying up in a pacifying manner. One of your eyes squeezes shut, and you mime shooting, which makes him slump back dramatically in his seat like you got him square in the chest. You shake your head, lips twitching upward while Sun straightens again. “I’m not sick, but I am hungry. Actually, I think I’m gonna go grab some food before it’s all gone.”

“Allow me,” Eclipse says, and it’s not a question. He rises to his feet.

You consider getting up anyways just for the principle of the matter, but a single finger pointing at you to sit back down is enough to have you settling in your chair with a fake pout.

While buttoning his suit coat with one hand, he asks, “Anything you’re particularly in the mood for?”

You consider for a moment.

“Mm, no, I trust your judgment. You probably know my tastebuds better than I do at this point.”

An emotion passes across Eclipse’s dark faceplate, something that makes your skin prickle at the sudden knifelike quality to it. Instead of voicing whatever he’s thinking, he just spins his rays and returns your wink from earlier. 

“I’ll be back with a plate.”

He saunters away, politely dodging groups of people and conversations as he makes his way towards the mouthwatering smell of food. You track him for a little while as you nurse your coffee until you’re brought back to the present at your table. Sun and Moon are being unusually quiet, and both are staring at you.

“What?” you say after a pause.

Sun’s smile normally warms you to the soul, but there are times when it sends you into fight or flight mode, just like Eclipse’s. In fact, all three of the brothers share that uncanny ability, and it’s no less disarming whenever it’s aimed at you. The meaning behind the near-predatory flash of teeth can operate anywhere on the scale of danger, and depending on Sun’s mood, it can quickly tip over into territory you want to avoid.

His rays blur in one direction then the other. 

“You have a way with words, precious.”

“…Thanks. I think.”

You don’t know if that was meant to be a compliment, but you’ll take it as one anyways.

Sun doesn’t say either way, but the deep blue of his pupils are cutting. It’s offset by the rather distracting way he’s swirling his champagne around in the flute like it’s a glass of wine. You’re not exactly sure why he’s doing that, but you are impressed at how not a single drop of liquid spills over the top despite being full.

A couple of minutes tick by as you simply relax and chat with the brothers while sipping your drink. It’s not long until restlessness begins digging in, however, and you give a cursory glance around the room and tap your fingers on the table.

“So what’re your plans after this?”

The question is barely out in the open before Moon answers with a sarcastic, “Going home and getting absolutely plastered.”

Apathy ricochets off you and Sun.

“They should make a park for people like you.” Sun tips his glass at his brother. “An unamusement park.”

“Hilarious.”

“No, it’d be the opposite of that.”

“That’s just Wall Street, Sun,” you say around a yawn, and Sun somehow makes a noise like he’s clicking a tongue he doesn’t have. You don’t question it.

Moon hmphs and crosses his arms like a child. You decide it’s best not to tell him that it only endears him to you even more.

“You do have a bit of a dry personality when it comes to acting,” you say, reaching up to scratch your chin in contemplation. When Moon’s faceplate swivels at you, utterly dumbfounded, you quickly add, “Not that that’s a bad thing! It’s just different from what is more common nowadays. That’s probably why you and Sun complement each other so well too. In fact, I think you would have been great in a show like Dragnet, Detective Moon.”

“No, don’t get him started—” Sun begins in a petulant whine, but it’s too late.

Moon’s red optics widen a fraction, and he suddenly gets a gleam in them, like he just got hit with inspiration. His metal fingers tug the brim of his hat so low that only the light of crimson shines from the shadow. Then his hands make quick work of loosening the knot of his tie just enough that it sits slightly askew. He squints across the table at the wall, staring at nothing with such intensity that it’s like he’s scrutinizing something a great distance away. His shoulders pull back, while he mimes takes a heavy drag of a smoking cigar.

Finally, to tie the charade together into a neat bow, he says in a very husky, deadpan voice that cracks with static, “Just the facts, ma’am.”

Sun’s eyes roll so hard, they could fall out of his head. You grin wide. In your peripheral, you think you see dark rays approaching your table. 

“It’s almost like he does it effortlessly,” you joke playfully.

“That’s because there is no effort put into it,” Sun says, exasperated. “He’s not acting. Monotone is his personality.”

A sneer breaks Moon’s act, and he spins his head around in a complete circle to taunt his brother. Defying all physics, his hat remains squarely on all the while. 

“Sun’s jealous because he knows if this were a different show, he’d be relegated to sidekick status.”

As Moon’s speaking, Eclipse returns, full plate in hand. He sets it down in front of you, to which you thank him, picking up the silverware next to you. His rays give a little wiggle in return, and he melts back into his seat with a grunt, propping his elbow back on the table and resting his head on his hand.

“I think being a main character has gotten to your head,” Sun returns snippily. There’s an exaggeration to his voice and haughty head tilt that tells you he’s just as much bantering along with Moon. The swirling of his drink gets more aggressive. “We’ll see how well that works out for you. Maybe this will be the start of my villain arc, and I’ll secretly become the big bad of the story with a mafia to my name.”

“Ugh, please do,” Eclipse groans from where he lounges, dragging his hand down his faceplate. “I’m tired of having to be mean.”

That snags your attention. You shuffle a bite of what might be teriyaki chicken onto your tongue and chew thoughtfully.

Holding your hand in front of your mouth as you munch so that you don’t endure another lecture from Sun, you say, a bit muffled, “I really should find the time to sit in on one of your classes soon. I wanna hear all of your secrets to playing the big bad villain.”

Eclipse’s chuckle flows on a deep wave that buzzes in his chest and warms yours, making your own cheeks hurt, both from the large bite of food you’re chewing and from how you beam at fostering such a sound. His low-lidded black eyes slide over to you, peering out from under his hand.

“That’s easy,” he says. “Anytime I have to act angry, I just think about these two idiots and the shit they make me put up with.”

Sun’s visage turns affronted.

“Language! And what exactly do you mean by that anyways?”

“He certainly couldn’t be referring to all the times we’ve pranked him,” Moon retorts, pretending to examine his nonexistent nails.

You nod sagely in agreement.

“Or the times you’ve tried to sabotage his shoots by distracting him.”

“Or how often we customize his wardrobe for fun.”

“And there was also that time you hid his car keys in a jello mold.”

Moon brightens at that one like you’ve made him recall a fond memory.

Sun leans back in his seat and bends an arm over the back of it. His frown slants sideways.

“Well, when you say it like that, it makes us sound bad.”

You twirl your fork on your plate and share a look with the animatronic from across the table.

“I wonder why.”

Your group laughs then along with one supremely ragged sigh from Eclipse, stirring up a decent amount of noise in the already loud room. The conversation continues much the same, with the three brothers taking cracks at each other while you watch the show and scarf down your dinner. It’s by the time that your plate is scraped clean and you’re sipping on the cold leftovers of the coffee Moon got you that a new presence is drawn in by the chatter in your small corner. You don’t immediately notice them until they speak up.

“Why am I not surprised to see you four all cozying up together in your own little area?” a calm voice addresses your table.

You glance up and find a much too complacent smirk staring you down. 

Sun takes a gander at your table’s new visitor and acquires an awfully mischievous glint.

“Uh oh. Security breach! Someone better let staff know that the Loch Ness Monster has gotten out of containment again.”

Like clockwork, Vanessa’s eyes narrow, and she places her hands on her hips, lips pursing.

“That nickname hasn’t been funny in all the ten other times you’ve used it.”

“Au contraire, little fish. It ages like a fine wine.”

Rolling her eyes at the lighthearted taunt from the jesting animatronic, she turns back to you.

“So when’s the wedding?” she presses, apparently deciding to return fire with fire.

A scoff trickles out, and you consider diving into a lengthy, not at all defensive rant about how the rumors your coworkers love circulating are just that: rumors. Just because you’ve decided you want to be with the celestial animatronics doesn’t mean you’ve all had a conversation about making that public yet, if ever.

But then Moon decides that now is apparently the best time to slide his arm behind you and tuck it over your shoulders, and you’re left choking down your own rebuttal because he just threw it in the mud in one shove.

Vanessa doesn’t smile often. She looks like a damn cat that caught a canary now.

On reflex, as if you can salvage your dying dignity, you say, “We’re not dating, Ness.”

Technically not yet since you still need to have a chat with Sun privately and then discuss with all three of them to make sure you’re on the same page. But you don’t need to clarify that.

“Yeah, Nessie,” Moon adds, dutifully ignoring Vanessa’s immediate grimace at her other equally despised nickname. Really, though, he needs to stop talking all at once. “Can’t you see we’re all just hanging out like a couple of buddy ol’ pals?”

“Not helping, Moon,” you half-heartedly lament, trying to formulate a protest, but the blonde-haired woman has already taken the bait.

She lifts a brow.

“If this is how you treat your ‘friends,’” she says, actually pausing to make the air quotes, “then I’m glad we never became more than associates.”

“Aw, there’s no need to be so pessimistic,” Sun drawls with a heavy inflection, sweet like molasses. He reclines in his chair, crossing his legs. “Just because we never had a spark between us doesn’t mean there aren't still plenty of fish in the sea. Or lake, I should say. The show’s not over yet.”

“It’s about to end prematurely if you keep talking like that,” Vanessa shoots back without dropping the flatness in her tone one iota.

Sun’s smirk is all dangerous edges, and his rays twirl flirtatiously.

The display and banter is nothing out of the ordinary between those three. Though she may deny they’re friends, Vanessa has always gotten along well with all of the brothers, which is probably another reason you’ve also gotten along well with her. She’s been in the acting business longer than you have, and instead of trying to show you how things are done, in the beginning, she watched and noted your own technique. Only after you asked her for her advice did she offer it. She’s brought a professionalism to the show that is greatly needed, yet she still keeps an open mind to how everyone else does their own work.

For that, she’s earned a lot of respect from you. It took only a little nudging to get her to warm up to your friend group. The feigned disinterest is now just part of the usual routine, and you know for a fact that no one except Moon and Sun have gotten her to laugh aloud. 

You owe a lot to the show you’ve all worked on together for the friendships alone that you’ve gotten through it.

“Have you been enjoying the party?” You decide to reroute the conversation before an all out war can break out in the form of snappy comebacks.

Vanessa groans.

“I could be relaxing in bed with a hot cup of tea. In fact, I should be relaxing in bed with a hot cup of tea. But for some godforsaken reason, I made the poor choice to come here instead.”

“Because you like us,” Moon singsongs, circling a finger along the white tablecloth.

Vanessa deigns to ignore that. Everyone knows he’s right, but it’ll be a cold day in hell before she ever agrees with him.

She addresses you instead.

“I see they’ve been practicing their terrible pick-up lines. I’m sorry you had to be the unfortunate one and settle for scraping the bottom of the barrel, unlike the rest of us.”

“Wow,” Sun huffs, dry as sandpaper.

“Deserved,” Eclipse chips in, just as dry but no less entertained at the spectacle unfolding.

“Like I said,” you say, not concealing your amusement at Vanessa’s persistence, “we’re not an item yet, so stop trying to set us up.”

“Yeah, I really don’t think you need my help with that,” she returns far too smoothly.

Your jaw goes slack, but Vanessa steamrolls right over your scandalized shock as usual.

“Anyways, I came over to fetch you for a second if you can spare one from your boyfriends. Freddy is asking for you.”

“Oh!” At that, you glance around in search of the bear animatronic, purposefully ignoring that last small dig.

With his big, hulking frame, it doesn’t take long to spot Freddy. He’s chatting with a few others in a semi-circle. As expected, you catch the slightest glimpse of Gregory next to him, though the poor kid seems miserable in his suit and tie. You can more than relate and have to stifle a small chuckle at his pout.

You turn back to your table and ease out of your chair onto stiff heels and creaking joints. Oof, that’s definitely the sound of your knees going snap, crackle, and pop.

“I’ll be right back. Save my seat?”

Moon blinks at it. Then back at you.

“Why? Is it dying?”

Before you can give back a snarky reply, Sun tacks on with faux concern, “Hey, is your fridge running?”

You share a wordless, pointed look with Vanessa and decide it’s best to not indulge them before they can get on a roll because once they start egging each other on, there’s no stop in sight.

Eclipse nods at you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep them in line while you’re gone.”

The twin snide leers in response tell you otherwise, but you’ll let him deal with that. His problem now. As you turn, you get a glimpse of Moon hunkering in close to his brothers with an excited sharpness in his movement.

Vanessa doesn’t have to say a word while you walk beside her. You just take her exasperation in stride because you know you don’t have a good rebuttal ready. She ends up sticking with you all the way to Freddy’s group, giving you the tiny impression that she’s been requested to “chaperone” you from one side of the room to the next.

As you’re weaving around the many groups of friendly faces and cheery waves, greeting them back with as much enthusiasm, you catch sight of Vanessa’s tie and nearly do a double-take. On a simple black background is a tiny print of many rabbits, with a myriad of bow ties, hats, and ribbons. It’s so fitting, you can’t not say something.

“I like the tie,” you snicker.

She follows where you gesture with a hand. It could just be the light in the room, but you swear you see a hint of mirth from her at you noticing.

“I thought it would be funny,” she says in an unfazed tone that makes your breath hitch around another sharp snort.

A lot of your coworkers find Vanessa to be standoffish. They don’t know what they’re missing because at her heart, she is one of the funniest people you’ve come to know. It just took a little to get her to warm up to you, and now, you consider her a great friend. On top of that, she’s incredibly talented to boot. You’re beyond glad that she was cast for her role in the show. That final showdown between you and her still gives you shivers even with all of it being an act.

“It is pretty fitting,” you agree, trying your best to don your best blank façade and failing. “Since it’s the year of the rabbit, after all.”

“Ugh. Now I know you’ve been hanging out exclusively with those three idiots. And what’s worse is I’ve heard that joke at least a hundred times tonight.”

“A hundred and one now, and the night’s still young.” You elbow her tauntingly, and she shies away with a scowl.

Vanessa appears prepared to tell you exactly what she thinks of your terrible jokes, but before she can, your name is called out in a sonorous clap.

You find Freddy eagerly waving you forward, and without a second thought, you’re by his side and being swept into a ferocious hug.

“It’s so good to see you outside of work for a change! I never thought those rascals would let you out of their sights for the holidays.”

A terrible groan threatens to break your throat. 

“Not you too, Freddy,” you bemoan.

“No worries, I’m just pulling your leg.” He lets you go and beams down at you, good mood infectious. “But all jokes aside, I am glad you decided to come out tonight. The party wouldn’t be the same without the star lead.”

You blow off his statements, a little frazzled and more than a little flustered.

“Oh, ease up on them, Frederick. You’ll make the poor thing blush,” joins yet another voice, deep yet muted.

William Afton’s figure is just as imposing even outside of the villainous character he portrays. You don’t know how you missed him in the small circle Freddy’s been chatting up, but his piercing observation of you has you straightening up. He isn’t someone you’ve had a chance to really get to know, but as a more senior actor in the group, he’s posed an intimidating factor in his wealth of experience alone. You’ve seen him in action; he’s incredible.

What’s even more of a delightful surprise is his present company—namely, the small child standing next to him, their hand in his and swinging the pair’s arms happily.

The child is none other than the actor that plays a much younger version of the vigilante, one whom you’ve found to be utterly adorable. They’ve easily won the hearts of the cast and crew, and judging by the way William holds their tiny hand so delicately, they’ve gotten him wrapped around their little finger too. And even if those two weren’t holding hands, you’d already know how close they’ve gotten in the time they’ve worked together because of all the little anecdotes that’ve been passed around the grapevine about them becoming an unlikely pair of friends. Their bond reminds you of a paternal relationship. William is the one who gave them the beloved nickname Ribbon, thanks to the bright spool of red they’ve taken to tying in their hair upon realizing it was also part of your costume. It’s a reminder that they look up to you, for whatever reason that makes you hyper aware of everything you say or do around them. You’re no role model, but you’ll do your best to be one for Ribbon if that’s what they need.

As for the nickname, you’re sure it was meant to be a silly, one-time thing. But then others caught wind of it, and now it’s just kind of stuck. The little child actor couldn’t be more thrilled at getting their own moniker and almost downright refuses to respond to anything else.

They catch you watching and give a jaunty wiggle of the fingers of their free hand—a wave you can’t help but return. The kid bounces on their toes, pleased.

“It’s about time you came over and said hello,” quips a sarcastic tone that you recognize in a heartbeat.

You peer around Freddy.

“Hey, kiddo. How’s tricks?”

Gregory pulls a sour grimace.

“Don’t call me that.”

“He doesn’t like being called a kid,” Ribbon helpfully explains. They light up impishly. “It’s a sore spot.”

“It’s not a—” Gregory stops and forces himself to simmer down, rolling his eyes. “I’m not that young.”

“And I’m sure they mean nothing by it,” Freddy smooths over, likely sensing the argument before it can begin. “But even still, there’s nothing wrong with being a child! Why, you have gotten to experience something that most other kids your age have only ever seen on TV. That’s something to be proud of.”

“My parents let me skip school,” Ribbon brags when Gregory just grumbles.

You click your tongue sharply at that.

“They’d better not be! Else I’m gonna have some very strong words with them, dumpling.”

That has the tot giggling, and William shakes his head. 

“No need, I already checked. They’re not missing out on school. I actually had the chance to meet their parents sometime ago.” He pauses to subtly indicate to a couple who aren’t too far away, chatting with a few people you vaguely recognize. Vanessa is also talking with them, and you wonder when she snuck away from your side.

William continues, “They informed me that any education outside of school hours is being handled at home or with tutors. And in fact, this little one brought their math homework to the set last month and showed me just how quickly they’re learning.”

The two share a small glance. It’s easy to see the pride in William’s features.

Then Ribbon turns to you.

They cup a hand over their mouth and loudly whisper, “He didn’t know the answers to some of the questions, so I had to show him how.”

You share a conspiratorial gasp.

“No kidding? Then I guess it’s a good thing you’re here to help these grownups learn, huh?”

A toothy grin flashes, and they nod excitedly. It’s then you notice the giant red silk in their braid, tied like a bow. The ends curl and frame their face cutely. You think you might even hear the chime of a bell.

Guess they’re going all out on their outfit tonight. Seeing them mimic your vigilante costume even outside of work grants you a deep fulfillment that runs through your chest. You hope that wherever they end up afterwards, it’ll be overflowing with only good, kind people. And hopefully their parents will preserve their childhood as much as possible too.

Anyways,” you say, turning and regaining Gregory’s attention, “Sorry, bud. Freddy’s right that I didn’t mean anything by it, but I’ll make sure to not call you that from now on.”

Gregory shrugs, crosses his arms, then uncrosses them like he’s not sure how to react. More than likely, he just feels put on the spot.

He chews on a response for a bit before he goes with, “It’s fine if you do it, I guess. Just don’t make it a habit, or else I’ll start calling you old.”

You feign shocked betrayal.

“How dare you? I’ll have you know that I’m always at my prime.” But then, unable to resist playing along, you pretend to feebly sway on your feet and place a hand to your chest, while the other reaches behind and presses at your spine, and you hunch over. “Oh, but your words—they cut so deep! I can feel them, seeping into my poor mortal bones, cursing me with old age. Agh, my back! It’s breaking!”

Like you’d expected, Gregory can’t quite hide his amusement at your shenanigans, and though he gives a valiant effort, his smirk is strong across his face.

“You’re such a theater kid,” he mocks.

You straighten with a frown.

“Oh, that’s real rich coming from you, shorty. Them’s fightin’ words.”

The sardonic, gloating image of the other threatens to start a semi-hostile bickering match between you and him. Fortunately or unfortunately for Gregory, Freddy intervenes like the paternalistic figure he’s come to embody.

“Alright, that’s enough. No need to start verbally swinging. I swear, you’re like a couple of cats and dogs sniping at each other any chance you get.”

Very maturely, you jab an accusatory finger at Gregory and retort, “Don’t look at me. He started it.”

The bear animatronic gives you a heavily imploring look. Your aura of innocence doesn’t seem to be swaying him in the slightest. Pity.

“You’re just mad that I’m right,” the kid taunts.

“Gregory,” Freddy warns, rounding on him and sounding for all intents and purposes like a disappointed parent.

You puff up your cheeks, readying another witty comeback on your tongue, but Freddy must have some sort of sixth sense because he shoots you another damning look that halts the friendly fire in its tracks. A silent standoff occurs between you, him, and the spunky little brat who thinks he’s winning, judging by the proud uptilt of his chin and his haughtily lifted brow. Which, to be fair, he’s not wrong in believing that, but details.

“To completely change the subject,” Freddy says before you can research if it’s legal to throw hands with a kid in self-defense, “I called you over here because I wanted to tell you something while I have the chance. And to start with, I’m sure many others have said the same thing to you already, but I want you to know it’s been a pleasure getting to watch you work throughout filming.”

One of his hands settles on your shoulder and stills you entirely, though you certainly weren’t expecting that last remark either. He makes sure he has your full attention before he keeps talking.

“I think I can speak for everyone here when I say that you’ve brought a uniqueness to the show. There is something to be noted about the good nature you carry into every circumstance, and as such, I’m grateful our paths were able to cross because of it. You have heart, and that shines well in your role. I believe the success we’ve had would not have been so easily attainable without you as the vigilante.”

In just a few short sentences, Freddy manages to strike down your smile and hollow you out. You stare in dumbstruck fashion at the bear animatronic. The heartfelt honesty wasn’t something you were expecting or ready for, and it cuts through your defenses and threatens to crumple you like a napkin.

“Freddy,” you hesitantly start, growing uncomfortable, “that’s really sweet and all, but I’m not—”

He gently interrupts you by briefly holding up a hand. You fall quiet.

“Please, let me finish being sentimental and overbearing while I still have you here, and then I’ll let you get back to the party. Since we’ve begun working together, I haven’t quite had an opportunity to tell you this, but I think you are an extraordinary individual and a talented actor. More importantly, however, I know that some of our… shall we say chattier team members have been spreading rumors. You probably know exactly what I’m referring to, so I’ll refrain from going into any details in case there are other listening ears nearby.”

He pauses just long enough to seemingly collect his thoughts. The unexpected direction of this conversation has your heart immediately jolting in your chest and pounding erratically, fearful of what he might say after hearing all of the gossip. Despite the sudden urge to turn tail and run, you hold back the panic that looms just on the edges of your peripheral. It waits to descend, circling like a hawk, and you push it back with an obstinate force. 

You will wait to hear him out first, though you pray that he hasn’t called you over to condemn your relationships with the celestial brothers.

Perhaps your stone-faced silence is a dead giveaway, or maybe the stiffness in your jaw is actually a trembling line that betrays your worry. Either way, Freddy takes a good, long look at you, and it’s then that his expression changes. Determination or certainty or something close straightens his shoulders and eases his trepidation away.

He continues in a much more private murmur, for your ears alone.

“My point is, in spite of those rumors, I can’t help but notice how increasingly happy you’ve become, even in this small timespan. You seem brighter than before. Lighter on your feet. I know I didn’t meet you prior to us working alongside each other, so I hope you’ll forgive me if I’m sounding presumptuous here because that truly isn’t my intent.” When his smile reappears, it’s like a ray of sunshine shining proudly upon you. His tone overflows with his benevolence as he finishes, softer still, “I just want to say that whatever that happiness is and whomever it might be with—if that is indeed the case—I hope it is something that works out for you. And I hope you pursue it if it does. Because like many others here, you deserve to have good things in your life too. So don’t ever let anyone convince you otherwise, no matter what they may say or believe.”

A friendly or perhaps comforting squeeze grips your shoulder. The following pause is loud.

Having said his piece, Freddy waits patiently for you to respond or maybe just to mull over what he said. Or to do anything at all instead of just gape at him.

Something slips into your eye. Both of them, funnily enough. You wait a moment too long to blink the odd sensation away, and it starts to burn.

Freddy notices, because of course he does, and his brow furrows.

“I’m sorry. It seems I’ve made you upset by what I said.”

You wave off his concern.

“No, no, I’m fine, really,” you lie very convincingly. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. It’s okay. I mean, I’m just—”

You bite your tongue to stop the immediate urge to deflect. You don’t like to think of yourself as overly emotional. Your soul lies in your work, and that’s where your emotions shine. You also know that while Freddy’s praise is flattering, it’s far from true. There are so many talented, gifted people working on this production. Anything you do is but a speck in the grand scheme of things, and a great deal of other people deserve credit far more than you do.

Still, it’s a palpable relief to hear what he said and to know that you have someone supportive in your corner. It touches you deeply because while it’s one thing to be recognized for your work by someone like him, it is a whole new matter to hear an outsider’s approval of the relationships you’ve been brewing over restlessly. Freddy is a role model—an inspiration—to the team. In many ways, he’s become a sort of parental figure that many look up to, you included. Having your silly human heart’s desires be acknowledged and embraced by him means a lot to you more than any kind of praise. A whole lot.

So much so that it stabs right to the center of all the inner turmoil that’s been burgeoning inside you without an outlet, and your ears feel hot and your throat tight. 

You attempt to just laugh it off, sounding a bit uneven and watery. 

“Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you to say that,” you say at last, and the easygoing tone you were shooting for kind of falls flat.

You’re exactly like he said: happier and lighter. Have been for weeks—months—now. But especially recently. Just took you a little longer than most to notice.

You’re certain though about what you want. You don’t feel like you need to test the waters anymore. Originally, you’d been alarmed at jumping into three relationships headfirst without any thought, but truth is, you were thinking of it long beforehand. You just refused to see it for what it was, the longing for something more than friendship. This isn’t your emotions getting confused from what you act out in front of a camera, like you’d originally feared.

The teasing and rumors are things you’ve gotten used to over time. But what Freddy said goes farther than that, and it’s beyond refreshing to hear someone else’s perspective confirm what your intuition has been shouting from the start.

As you wipe your eyes with a hand, you say only a little shakily, “Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you. I think I needed to hear that more than you realize.” You take a moment to collect yourself, swallowing hard and letting the immense relief settle your nerves.

You’re here. It’s okay. It will be more than okay, but at least you know that you have people in your corner who genuinely care. You weren’t exactly ready for the emotional rollercoaster you just rode, but you’re thankful nonetheless. It feels good to not be alone like you’d once thought. It feels incredible.

As the racing in your chest calms back down, the levelheadedness returns. Freddy is still waiting like a worried spectator, so you decide to reassure him in the best way you know how.

Your smile is small but facetious.

“You know, it’s a good thing you approached me about this. Here I was, all worried you’d turn me down, but I’m so glad you finally saw the light and decided to confess your undying love for me before the clock strikes midnight.”

For an animatronic, Freddy does a fantastic job of blanching.

“Oh! No, that’s not… Ah, I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding.”

He panics to the point his voicebox starts to stutter as he backtracks. William steps in to rescue him.

“They’re joking, Frederick. They know you’re not the one who’s madly fallen for them.” His eyes slide over to you. “Which those three have, by the way.”

You spread your arms in disbelief, neck burning.

“Geez, did everyone else figure out my love life before me or something?”

“Only a little.” The man smirks, something that is extremely hard not to react to when it’s so unlike him.

“What’s a love life?” Ribbon innocently pipes up.

Gregory replies, “Tch, don’t ask them because they clearly don’t know.”

Freddy pats the top of the boy’s head.

“None of that now. Be nice. They can work things out in their own time. There’s no rush.”

You don’t have the heart to tell Freddy that that is exactly what you’ve been worrying over. So you instead peer back over to your table, gnawing on your lip as you think.

There’s not a clear view of them, but you can see Sun’s rays spinning wide as he converses with his brothers and a few others who have swung by to chat, standing beside the table. You wonder what they’re all talking about and suffocate the desire to go back over there. Just because you want to be with them doesn’t mean you have to act like some lovesick puppy.

As you’re weighing the pros and cons of making up some very transparent excuse to slip away from your group and return to the boys, a discordant echo of feedback rings through the crowd, making everyone wince.

“Sorry!” a distant voice yells, and then there’s distinct tapping on a microphone. “Test, test, testing, is this thing on now? I guess it is after that little noise.”

Everyone turns to the source, and you see the executive producer on a raised platform with a mic, two large projector screens on the wall behind him. Once he’s got the mic in working order, he requests everyone to take their seats, and you try to hide your elation at being dismissed from social convention. You make sure to wish the others a farewell and happy new year in case you don’t get to see them again later that night, giving an especially grateful squeeze to Freddy’s arm, and then you hustle your way back to three shining faces.

In the end, Moon proves to have been a valiant defender of your chair after all, and you reclaim the spot next to him while the man who organized the event launches into a lengthy speech of thank yous and cheers to the future progress of the show. 

The distraction allows you a private moment to reflect on what just transpired and ease back into a calmer state. However, when you wipe your eyes a final time to stop any meddlesome tears in their tracks, your actions do not go unnoticed like you’d hoped.

Moon turns to you and leans in close so that he can whisper.

“Are you alright?” His concern is a selfless gesture that touches you deeply, like he’s ready to jump at a moment’s notice for your sake.

Your eyes glisten a little more at the sweet thoughtfulness.

“I’m fine. Promise.” At his persisting worry, you gently clarify, “It’s nothing bad. I’m just… really, really happy.”

Your heart leaps with your words, confirming the veracity of them.

Surprise rounds off the lines of disquiet and inclines the edges of his mouth. Moon’s steady regard holds unmistakable compassion.

“Good, I’m glad. Still, let me know if you need anything, and I’ll take care of it.”

You’re not at your verbal best right now, so you nod, and he shifts back to the speaker. You think that’s that, but then one of his hands seeks out and rests on the top of your lap, palm up. An offering. The questioning flash of red is only just visible at this angle. 

You try to not let your sentimentality show so plainly to the room from you beaming as you slip your hand into his. It feels like you’re shaking with relief and euphoria.

From there, it’s easier to focus on the speech. The speaker informs the party that they are welcome to stay till midnight to watch the fireworks that the city will be setting off across the harbor. The hotel is waterfront, meaning the room’s windows facing the harbor will provide an exceptional view of the night sky. After that, the hotel has requested that everyone vacate the event room no later than one in the morning if they don’t have a reservation to stay and to please abide by the quiet hours rule. The fact that your group is even being allowed to hang around that late makes you wonder just how much money was slipped under the table to cover that cost.

You critically eye the waitstaff still handing out glasses of alcohol. It will be a miracle if there isn’t a single incident resulting in someone getting kicked out, and you know you don’t want to be around when that happens.

After the speech, a video is played on the screens commemorating months’ worth of silly moments and fun memories filmed both during shoots and in the lulls between. You end up laughing along with the others at the antics and bloopers caught on video, and even one of Sun and Moon’s pranks makes it on the screen. It’s a heartwarming stroll down memory lane that is bittersweet and a reminder that the show is nearing its finale.

After the video ends, the executive producer steps down from his stage, once more thanking everyone for their hard work and encouraging them all to finish off the plentiful catering leftovers. The room explodes into applause and some whistles, and you join in with the ones sitting next to you. It’s been a hard journey with many late nights and abysmally early mornings, but you’re close to the end. You’ll miss the familiar people you’ve come to enjoy seeing every day and the kindness of the teams you got to work with. One thing is for certain: Your phone is positively bursting with contacts from many, many people you’ve met just through working on this show. You hope that your future job will connect you with some of them again face to face when all is said and done.

Mind abuzz with thoughts of where you’ll end up next, you whittle away the hours yet again with your favorite company. At one point, Sun hands off his flute of champagne to a passerby with superfluous reassurances that he’s done “absolutely nothing to it!” He doesn’t sound trustworthy at all, but when he gives you a universally austere wink, it becomes obvious he’s just pulling the other person’s leg.

At some point, someone pulls out an honest-to-God Clue board game from who knows where, and you end up on a three-person team with Moon and Sun—much to the chanting of your friends and coworkers—to solve the mystery and take down your competitors. Eclipse pairs with Gregory and an actor who played as one of his goons. Becker, you think his name is.

A mix of people from other departments, from the sound crew to the camera crew to the stunt performers and everyone in between, get involved too, whether it’s to team up or just spectate like this is the greatest new sport. In the end, the result is a truly raucous round that leads to your team’s victory. High fives and gloating abound, but that’s quickly stampeded when you, Moon, and Sun lose the next round. After that, you decide to let other people have a turn, and you mingle with those you haven’t had a chance to chat with in a long while. What makes it an even better experience is that throughout the socializing, you find yourself with a tail or two or three. They let you reach out first—a hand on their backs or elbows—which leads to them returning the favor so that you’re in constant contact with at least one. It doesn’t escape your notice that doing this means you’ll receive more raised eyebrows and probably stir up the pot of gossip.

But unlike before, that thought doesn’t really bother you as much.

You know why.

As the clock ticks closer to midnight, the party dwindles in size. Some depart to go celebrate the new year with family; others leave to follow the call of their beds. You catch one more quick interaction with Ribbon, and they give you a big hug that you return just as tightly. Their little arms threaten to bruise your bones, and it only makes your fondness for them soar. Their parents also bid you goodbye, sharing grateful waves at you, and you watch as they lead their kid to the hotel’s elevator, Ribbon squeezing both their hands and skipping between them.

Not an ounce of tiredness in that one. You wish you had their energy. The studio couldn’t have picked a better vigilante-in-the-making.

Feeling winded yourself, you return to your seat with a drawn-out groan. While you were away, Sun and Moon swapped places. Judging by the delighted tapping of Sun’s fingers on the table and Moon’s unhappy glower, it wasn’t a unanimous decision.

It’s a mere fifteen minutes to midnight now. And that’s when Eclipse returns to his seat and decides it’s high time to throw another curveball your way.

“I have a proposition for you,” he slyly says, which has you simultaneously uneasy and intrigued.

“Oh?” 

“Yes, oh?” Sun parrots, with much more skepticism in his tone.

Eclipse grins wryly. In between one blink and the next, he snaps into view a solid black card between his middle and forefinger. The slender card has no meaning to you, at least not until he flicks it a certain way in the light. The embossed letters reflect the ambient glow just enough to be legible, and that’s when you gasp.

“You’re joking,” you breathe, and Eclipse chuckles.

“What? What am I missing?” Sun looks between you and Eclipse and then at the card, but Eclipse tucks it away just as fast.

You lean back in your seat, stunned.

“This hotel has to be booked solid all through the holiday,” you manage to say. “How on earth did you get a key? Did you book a room months ago?”

The eldest brother is obviously enjoying this, both your and Sun’s reactions, unlike Moon who is slowly becoming one with his chair the further he sinks into it, and you can’t find it in yourself to deprive Eclipse of his moment. You weren’t expecting that at all.

He shakes his head and keeps his voice low, like he’s sharing a secret.

“I don’t know if you’ve met him yet, but there’s a man here who I used to work with on a different set years ago. He’s a cameraman, and the bulk of his work is focused on taking candid pictures to be used for promotion. Back when we first met, we both were still graduating past being  labeled as fresh blood in the industry, so we ended up hitting it off. He’s been a good friend of mine ever since.” Long fingers fold together, and Eclipse props his elbows on the table, shadowed metal almost ominous in the light. “That’s all to say that he was invited to tonight’s party as a plus one because his niece is one of the actresses for this series, and they’re rather close. He chose to book a room at this hotel months ago for the event out of convenience.”

Eclipse leans in closer as excitement in his voice builds, and like an infectious pull, you mirror his movement.

“Here’s where it gets interesting,” he simpers. “I overheard that this place has a pool and bar—more specifically, a rooftop pool and bar. Due to the cold weather, the outdoor half of the pool has been closed for winter, but the indoor half has been kept open. And currently, guests are allowed to use their keycards to enjoy a nice swim and some drinks from ten o’clock in the morning to ten o’clock at night. So naturally, when I expressed my interest in accessing the place, my friend gave me one of his spare keys with the exception that I don’t tell anyone where I got it from.”

You're astounded and can see how Eclipse relishes having such a captive audience.

“Kind of failed on that front already,” Moon tacks on blithely. He feigns disinterest, but his gaze is fixed on you as well, assessing.

You hope he isn’t readying to read you your Miranda rights if you so much as suggest an iota of interest in this.

Eclipse, however, only puffs out a synthetic breath at his little brother.

“Anyone who’s a snitch,” he clarifies.

“So what you’re saying is,” you say, still starry-eyed with wonder, “we can sneak up to the rooftop and watch the fireworks from there?”

“Among other things, yes.”

You pause.

“Other things?”

Eclipse doesn’t answer. But his shifty keek at Sun has you feeling on edge.

“Oh!”

You flinch as Sun violently shoots to his feet, chair scraping behind him, and he is just as wide-eyed as you.

“I’m suddenly fully on board with this plan without any dubious behavior whatsoever.” He holds a hand out to you. “Let’s go do some illicit activities.”

You side-eye Moon. Sun does much the same.

“By which I mean technically not illicit at all,” he hastily adds. He wiggles his fingertips at you. “Coming, doll?”

Your hand reaches for his.

“Nothing dubious, huh?”

Sun gently pulls you out of your seat. The animatronic picks up your coat too and drapes it over your shoulders before you can have time to think about it, and the warmth of your coat extends deeper than it normally would. He takes your hand with a stifled sound that is by definition just plain cute. Suspicious or not, you’ll go wherever he leads as long as it means staying by his side. Clearly, the brothers have something planned, especially since Moon hasn’t made a peep where he normally would about anything remotely smelling of unlawful, and you squirm with your own enthusiasm.

“Here.” Eclipse gives Sun the keycard, and while Sun pockets it, you frown in confusion.

“Wait, aren’t you two coming with us?”

At long last, Moon breaks his silence with a benign grin aimed up at you.

“In a minute, starling. Go on up before I change my mind.”

Eclipse tips his head at the elevators.

“We’ll catch up with you shortly. Sunny wants to share something with you first.”

Said animatronic is trembling like a live wire in his bundle of excitement.

“I hope that isn’t what you mean by illicit,” you snark, and you let Sun steer you out of the room with not a second to spare.

“No, no, you won’t find any sort of recreational things on me. I have clean pockets, promise!”

You almost lose your footing, but the other is quick to catch you.

“Thanks.” You pat him appreciatively. “ Also, I wasn’t thinking you had any dirty pockets there, Sunny. But now that you mentioned it… Hm, I might just need to check for myself and thoroughly investigate.”

You watch in bemusement as Sun repeatedly presses the elevator button to summon it. His head snaps to you with some wily scheme dancing inside, his blatant impatience subconsciously pulling you in so that you have to tilt your head back farther to keep him and his lovely rays in sight.

His inner mechanisms click and whir at your closeness. With the hand not holding yours, he taps you on the nose, making you wrinkle it.

“Let’s not get handsy just yet, dear. We haven’t even discussed marriage.”

That earns him a scoff.

“Then color me surprised, snookums, because it sure seems like we’re eloping.”

You lean your weight against his side, confident that he won’t mind, and Sun lets go of your hand to wrap an arm around your shoulders instead. As you’d suspected, he squeezes you like he plans to imprint you there.

One of the two elevators dings upon its arrival, and the second the doors swish open, Sun hustles you inside. His barely restrained frenetic energy has you snickering, to which he lightheartedly swats you. Once he’s pushed the button for the top floor with more aggressive tapping, he spins back around to give you his full attention. His boundless enthusiasm means a need to channel it somewhere, so it’s no surprise when his fingers continue to busy themselves by beginning to undo one of the buttons of his cuffs to roll his sleeve up to his elbow.

“Trust me, you will know when we’re eloping,” he remarks without thought as he’s focused on his task, neatly tucking away fabric and moving on to the next sleeve.

Oh, he makes it too easy for you sometimes. You brace against the wall while letting a flirtatious smirk emerge. It’s impossible not to tease him a little more, not when you’ve got him trapped like this. 

“When we elope, detective?” you echo smugly, pulling a little of your character to the surface. You can’t help it when he walked right into that one.

Sun doesn’t say anything.

Not in the way you’d expected, however. He doesn’t freeze like it was a Freudian slip of the tongue or react with visible panic. No, he doesn’t utter a single word in the aftermath of that little taunt, but he needn’t do so in the way his eyes speak for himself.

Cerulean blue is piercing in low light, you realize. Unwavering as he doesn’t add anything more to confirm or deny your question. You’re playing a losing game of trying not to focus on the bare metal that is revealed as Sun finishes rolling up both his sleeves. Only a beat more of silence has to pass before you realize that you’re the one who’s prey to the sudden intensity of the solitude from the craziness of the night. It’s just you and Sun now and a weighty stillness in the shadow of what you’d thought was an ignorant exchange. Somehow, that has you more uncentered than probably any comeback he could have returned.

Sun’s not saying anything in defense because he doesn’t intend to deny it.

You swallow. Nothing but the vibration of the elevator and its lighthearted music disturbs whatever tension has begun to form. Not unwelcome or even necessarily uncomfortable. But it is noticeable, and you’re becoming extremely aware of everything in the small space, namely the animatronic who’s taking up most of it right in front of you.

Before the tension can get any thicker, the elevator comes to a halt somewhere in its ascent. You and Sun watch as someone, presumably a hotel guest, steps onto the elevator with you, reaches over, and taps a button for a few floors up.

You were wrong; the tension can get thicker, and it is compressing you.

The ride up is painfully silent, made worse by the fact that for whatever reason, Sun does not stop staring at you. You’re just an arm’s reach shy of being cornered against the wall, and apparently, Sun sees no issue with this and how it might look to the unexpected friend who’s joined the circus.

Hardly ten seconds pass, but it feels like an eternity before the other person’s floor is reached. They exit without a word or a glance in your direction, and that’s exactly how you prefer it. Without looking, Sun reaches over and nudges the button to close the doors. They slide shut, and your ride to the top is continued once more with only one animatronic to fill the space and your vision.

Funnily enough, this is the first chance all night that you really get a good view of his outfit, what with him being so close. Since you’re desperate to latch onto anything else, you concentrate on that instead. To your surprise, what you see has you in tickled disbelief.

Blinking, you nod in his direction and say, “Please tell me those suspenders are from your costume.”

Sun glances down at the thick loops of fabric on his person as if he’s seeing them for the first time. Then his grin flashes back up at you, twinkling.

“Do you like them?”

He already knows the answer, cheeky thing.

“As if you even need to ask.” You ignore how his amused leer makes your skin pleasantly tingly. You are, in fact, ignoring a lot of things that him being so close is doing to you. A shiver runs down your back. Which you also ignore. “What I’m more shocked by is how you and Moon seem to be sneaking off with pieces of your outfits and getting away with it.”

Sun shrugs and brushes imaginary lint off his shirt with a hum.

“I needed something special from my costume to wear tonight since I wanted to dress to impress. It was either wear these or my handcuffs.”

“…I think you and I might have different definitions of how to impress.”

The animatronic sighs heavily.

“Yes, I know I should have gone with the handcuffs instead. But why else am I supposed to wear suspenders if not to seductively slide them off for you one at a time?”

As he says this, he reaches up and hooks a finger underneath one of the straps. His air is nothing short of coy, like an idea has just taken shape in his devious mind, and he slowly eases the fabric across his shoulder, flirting with slipping it over the edge. A curled metal digit suggestively rubs the suspender. It would probably have a much greater effect on you if his little show wasn’t currently being backed by cheery elevator music, and that alone has your lips spasmodically twitching.

Sun gives the impression of waggling his brows, rife with an emotion you refuse to label.

“Are you seduced yet?” he croons.

You’re actually on the verge of hysterics after bouncing from that tense moment to now this highly entertaining version of a strip tease, but you’re doing your damndest to keep down the stunned laughter rattling inside your chest. You purse your lips to hold back the tide and then take a second to compose yourself.

“I don’t remember this scene ever being in the script,” you say instead, keenly aware that the elevator is not soundproof nor private. You suddenly wonder if there is a security camera in here and if some poor staff member is seeing all of this, and you almost burst into a guffaw right there.

Sun taps a coquettish finger like he’s shushing you. He can tell how close you are to losing it, and he has no problem chuckling at whatever face you’re making.

“That’s because it’ll be our little secret behind the scenes,” he chirps.

Before you have time to unpack that little remark, the lilting elevator voice declares you’ve reached your destination. You straighten back up when the doors slide apart, a deep exhale blowing past your lips to calm the fluttering in your chest, but Sun doesn’t move just yet.

His hand extends out to you, palm up. A light request and one you don’t have to ponder at all to accept. You’ve noticed that all of the brothers seem to enjoy holding your hand. That’s good, because you enjoy it too.

As the two of you traipse out onto the floor, you’re struck by an intense smell of chlorine. Your lungs expand with the joyous call of swimming pool water, and it’s a small shame that you don’t have a swimsuit on to take a quick dip.

Sun scouts the area with you at his side. Miraculously, the floor appears entirely vacant and ghostly quiet. Couldn’t be because the pool and bar hours have long since passed. Certainly not. There’s a gym up here too, secured off behind glass walls and an entrance that requires keycard access to get in. But that’s not what you’re here for.

“This way.” You lead Sun down a hallway, trusting your nose. 

He’s quiet still, but his steps are no less eager than yours. You wonder what it is he wants to show you and why he needs to show it up here of all places and what on earth was that moment you shared in the elevator because it certainly felt like something. There’s no denying the thrill you get from sneaking in somewhere that’s technically meant only for actual hotel guests and only during certain hours. It makes you remember being a teenager, getting into trouble or always just dancing outside of it with someone you lo— 

Someone you care about.

As you and Sun peruse the vacant floor, what you’re doing begins to catch up to you. It starts with a giggle from one or both of you—you’re not sure who, but it’s definitely you—like you’re misbehaving children getting into things you shouldn’t. Very quickly from there, the chortles you had tried to suppress from before begin to slip out with Sun not far behind, and you fall into a repetitive pattern of stifling your hitching breaths and hushing each other with no success.

“Sun, you’ve gotta—” you loudly snort and laugh even more. “You’ve gotta stop—”

“Ohoho, I’ve got to stop? Not this barrel of laughs right next to me?” he gibes, his free hand snaking out and poking you in your sensitive stomach.

“H-hey, no! You cut that out right now, mister!”

Sun’s fingers wriggle treacherously, and your squeal bounces off the walls. Another round of shushing does little to quell the jittering butterflies in your stomach that are making your chest heave with half-caught breaths. To your relief, Sun ceases the merciless assault on your ticklish side, but it’s only to then stop in place.

You stop as well when you realize he’s not budging, and you smile a little crookedly over your shoulder at the unreadable way he looks at you.

Standing there in the hall, Sun doesn’t move an inch aside from his rays that twirl in a leisurely circle. His hand is warm in yours, and his focus doesn’t stray to anywhere except you. He takes a long moment to just keep you at his side, quiet and contemplating.

Then, without preamble or any warning, he kindly says, “You have a pretty laugh.”

And wouldn’t you know it, there is now no air conditioning in the room whatsoever because you can feel yourself heating up all over.

“Oh,” you start, openly floundering like a fish out of water. “I’m… Thanks?”

An affectionate huff graces your ears.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, silly. All I mean to say is I enjoy hearing it. Seeing you happy makes me happy.”

Thump-thump.

Seems like all three of the brothers adore leaving you speechless too. You’re aware your mouth is parted, but you don’t even know what to say to that. Sun said it like it was another one of his simple observations he loves to make, like it’s as plain as the weather or the nose on your face. 

Like it wasn’t a tease or anything meant to poke fun. Just mere fact.

The edges of your lips find their way back up your cheeks.

“Then I’m glad to hear that. Because you make me happy too,” you say quietly.

Yellow rays pick up speed.

After a subtle glance around, you add, “Not that I don’t appreciate the really sweet confession, but are there any other pressing things you need to admit right now, or do you mind if we get outside first before your brothers show up? You said there was something you wanted to show me.”

The whites behind his blue pupils catch an opalescent flash of light, like mother of pearl.

“I suppose I can wait to tell you about my outstanding arrest warrant,” he says. “Come along then. We don’t have much time left!”

“Wait, your what now? Sun!”

He tugs you after him, warbling giggles promising he’s up to no good, and that’s all the answer you get from the animatronic. 

Thankfully, you make it down another hall without further incident as the walled-off pool comes into view. It’s surrounded by glass panes just like the gym. The lights are dim inside, signaling that it isn’t open. But that’s hardly a deterrent, and as you near the door that will let you inside, you can see through the room that on the other side of the pool is another door that leads out onto the rooftop.

In one swift swipe, Sun glides the key across the card reader, and the door unlocks with a beep. Like a true gentleman, he proudly opens the door for you. Or rather, he tries to.

You watch him jolt when the door doesn’t swing open. Grunting, he then grinds his heels into the floor and heaves and tries to yank on the door with all his might. The metal and glass obstacle refuses to budge.

Having some pity on him, you calmly say, “Honeybee, it’s push, not pull.”

He pauses. Stares. Gently, he nudges the door in the opposite direction. It swings open wide.

His grin is an even, flat line.

“I knew that.”

“Sure you did.”

Disregarding your mocking tone, he keeps the door propped open with a foot and bows low.

“After you, my dove.”

You shake your head at the endearment and step past him, waiting for him to quietly close the door behind you before you pipe up, voice echoing across the water.

“Are you just throwing out pet names now and seeing what sticks?”

His chassis purrs with his mirth, restlessness keeping him in motion. “I thought about calling you a chicken, but doing so seemed most fowl.”

“A ch— What did you just call me?!” Oh, you’re about to show him just how non-chicken you are, but you then cut yourself off as soon as his joke lands. Blowing out a loud breath, you give Sun the full scope of your unimpressed glower. His optics lift from his joviality.

“That was the worst pun I’ve ever heard.”

“Got you good though, didn’t I? Hmm?”

When he’s like this, very subtly swaying from one foot to the other like he’s listening to some silent tune and his endless delight needs to be used somewhere, you can’t hold onto a frown to save your life. You just can’t.

So you purse your lips and pout as hard as you can to show just how unamused you are. You’re so unamused. It’s almost funny how deep your lack of amusement runs, it’s so unamusing.

Your lips quiver at the edges. Sun sees it.

Without warning, he sidles up to you, humming some unknown tune, and then with his thumb and forefinger, he reaches up and pinches your lips together, making them even flatter.

“On second thought,” he remarks, completely ignoring your indignant, muffled protest, “a chicken or a dove isn’t accurate because what I’m clearly seeing now is a duck.”

He emphasizes his point with a squeeze, making you create the very unwanted impression of a duckbill, and he springs away from your enraged swat and squeak, delight carrying his voice loud across the pool.

“Sun!” you yell, rubbing your smarting mouth. “Don’t run away!”

“No offense, duckling,” he titters as he does the exact opposite of your demand, “but something tells me that would be to my detriment!”

“Yeah, that something is me! Come back here!”

You chase the fleeing animatronic around the pool and to the door leading outside. Sun slams into it first, sprinting out with you fast on his heels. The icy cold temperature shocks you from its severity, but you’re too lost in the chase to give it much thought. Sun skips all the way past the closed bar and outdoor pool, up a small flight of smooth cement stairs, and to an area overlooking the harbor.

Right into a corner.

Seemingly realizing his mistake, he turns back around, but you’re already there, closing in on him. What’s worse is he’s still cackling, and you don’t know how you’re going to get your payback, but you’ll figure it out somehow.

“Hoohoo, you’re looking a little frosty over there,” he says, hands lifting up in a placating motion as you near. “Perhaps this would be a wonderful time to go back inside where it’s nice and toasty!”

“Perhaps not,” you shoot back, ignoring how you’ve lost the war in maintaining a frown. The joy on Sun’s faceplate is just too contagious.

He drops the placating gesture in favor of hooking a finger in his collar and tugging on it like he’s nervous. What a drama queen.

“You know, I heard diplomacy is in currently! Super popular! All the cool cats are trying it, so I think we should give it a shot too to see what’s what.”

You’ve reached him at this point, and your hands land on your hips. “That’s funny to hear, Sunny, since just thirty seconds ago, you didn’t seem all that interested in it.”

The animatronic sputters at your very sound logic. His expression is not at all apologetic while he pulls an excuse out of thin air.

“Change of heart?” he says uncertainly.

“Yeah, how believable.” The desert has nothing on your arid tone. 

You step forward and grasp one of Sun’s bottom rays, one of the few you can actually reach. Though he could very easily withstand your strength, Sun lets you pull him down until he’s eye-level with you. You have some long-winded speech waiting in the wings—pun not intended—about how this “duckling” can meet him step for step in weaponized terms of endearment, and you absolutely will use that to your advantage to drop the most unhinged pet names in front of others when he least expects it.

But then Sun speaks up before you get the chance.

“If we were to, say, hypothetically, continue the trend of listing things that are funny,” he begins, speaking lower now that he’s so close to you, “then I’d like to mention how this little predicament happens to have reminded me of what I wanted to show you.”

Your skepticism is unmatched.

“Does it involve pulling a sudden disappearing act?”

“Goodness, no! That’s the very opposite of what I want because that would mean putting distance between myself and you… little duck.”

Your eyes narrow.

“You’re pushing it.”

“Just moving the goalpost, darling. Let me finish before we run out of time.”

You can’t help cracking up at that, shaking his ray a little so that all of them swing side to side a few degrees.

“What, do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight or something?”

“Excuse you, I’m more akin to a Prince Charming than anything. But that’s beside the point because I have something very important I need to tell you.”

When he says your name then, the silliness ebbing away to make room for something more serious, you perk up, and your smile dims with concern.

But Sun eases away the wrinkles of worry with his thumb, soundlessly cupping your cheek and soothing you in a motion that makes your heart skip. You’ve noticed it doing that a lot lately. He takes the hand that’s listlessly clinging to his ray, curls his long fingers around it, and lifts it up to press a kiss to your knuckles. The wind is slow yet sharp, cutting into your bones. You instinctively huddle into your coat in a vain attempt to preserve some heat.

Sun tuts when you shiver and helps you slide your arms into the sleeves of your coat rather than just keep it around your shoulders.

“I should have brought my jacket up as well so you’d be at least a little warmer. Sorry about that.”

You snatch his hand back, which he gladly accepts.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine with you here. Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

Sun chuffs, shaking his head but minding his rays so that they don’t prod or scrape you. His mouth twitches.

“You’re always so sweet, honeydew. Silly pet names aside, I hope you know that I’m only ever teasing you with them. When I’m not trying to be a romantic, that is, which is actually always, but regardless—”

“Romantic?” you interrupt softly.

This time, Sun’s eyes do widen. His rays pop out wider, and it’s the first time tonight he actually looks rattled.

“Oh! Oh goodness, I did just say that, didn’t I? Not that that isn’t exactly why I brought you up here in the first place, but I had intended to at least drop that particular piece of information with a little more delicateness. I don’t want to go scaring you off so soon before I’ve even had the chance to reach the second bullet point in the speech I’ve rehearsed and scrapped at least a thousand times, and— Oh dear, this isn’t how I’d planned things to go.”

“Sun,” you say as soon as he pauses. His rays begin speeding at your voice, and you resist the sudden desire to close the infinitesimally small space between you. But you do have an inkling of why he brought you up here, why Eclipse and Moon hung back to give you time alone with him.

The math is starting to add up. Surprisingly, even with your rapid fluctuation of heart-pounding excitement, you feel a calmness that reassures you. This is where you’re meant to be, with him.

“Be honest with me,” you request, and Sun nods emphatically. Dork, you think with full affection. You take a deep breath in, hold his gaze and the stars within, and then let your breath out. There’s nowhere else to go, but your feet still try to inch you closer. “Did you bring me up here to kiss me?”

A lull. Out here, it’s a little harder to hear Sun’s mechanisms working overtime, but the fact that you can hear them at all tells you he’s processing quite a bit. That already is a big hint of an answer, but you want to hear him say so yourself.

With an artificial exhale that layers an inexplicable tenderness, he says, “Well, it wasn’t an expectation, but I certainly would be lying if I said I wouldn’t like that. More than that, though, I just wanted to confess how I feel about you and go from there. But I suppose I am that transparent, aren’t I?”

Your cheeks are stretching again from your happiness.

“Don’t feel too bad. It took me until a certain conversation with Eclipse a few weeks ago to realize any of you had feelings for me.”

Another puff, this one exasperated.

“Yes, I'm aware. Honestly, we all thought we weren’t being subtle in the slightest. Even our coworkers noticed, dear.”

You wince and protest, “Okay, well, I thought they were just joking around! You can’t blame me for that. Especially since I thought you all were just playing too.”

“Which remains a mystery to me! I even asked you months ago if you wanted to practice kissing so that we could get it right during filming.”

Your mouth opens. Closes. Opens once more.

The moment he’s referring to is vivid in your memory, only because you’ve thought about it more times than you’d like to admit and had just sadly written it off as Sun being his usual playful self. Yes, he was flirting, but you hadn’t thought he was flirting-flirting. Just that it was the usual game you all play. But still… months ago? Just how long have these three been trying to get your attention?

“You were flirting with me then?” you say quizzically.

Sun chuckles, and one of his arms winds around your waist. He holds you like the daintiest flower, and even you feel a flash of embarrassment over just how much you like that.

“As I said, a mystery. But like any good sleuth, I have a feeling that with your help, we can put our heads together and solve this case.”

You brighten immediately. There he is.

“Ah, I see,” you play along. “Taking inspiration from a certain show, hm? So what are your deductions, Detective Sun?”

“I’m so glad you asked! Because I have quite a few, but for the sake of time and the fact that the fireworks are soon to start, I’ll give you the cliff notes version and do away with any alleged speech, rehearsed or not.”

His palm is so warm around your cheek, hiding you from the cold as much as he can. You hardly even notice it when he’s embracing you like this. Your eyes search his, your entire being ready to latch onto his every word to lock it inside your heart and never let it go.

In the strongest sincerity you’ve ever heard from him, he says, unspeakably gently, “I like you. Not just as a friend, though you are without a doubt one of the best and closest I’ve ever had. I like you in the sense that I have fallen for you. Complete head over heels, tumbling-down-the-staircase kind of mess. I'm absolutely sure you know that by now, but if you don’t, I am not above paying to have it written in the sky so that it gets through your thick but lovable head.” His warning comes with a wagging finger, and you snort despite the unexpected mistiness creeping behind your eyelids again when you blink.

Sun’s fake glower softens to an incandescent warmth, pulling you in like a flower.

“The point is, I want to pursue this feeling with you, as do my brothers. I’m sure they’ve already told you. Heaven knows if I have to listen to Moon brag for another minute about getting a kiss from you tonight, I will lose my sanity. But I also heard from a little birdie that my brothers requested a little, hmm, how did they put it? A head start on the new year?”

You bite your lip. His scrutiny falls lower, and your uneven breath is a cloud of white smoke between you and him.

“Something like that,” you softly say.

Sun’s servos whistle a delighted song.

“I hope you’ll excuse me for being so bold because I’m about to be like that regardless,” he says, “but it sounds like they didn’t do the tradition properly at all. They seem to have missed one very crucial factor, and I think you know exactly what I mean. So with that in mind, precious, may I steal a kiss from you to make sure it’s done right?”

After a confession like that? You wind your arms around his neck, lips parting, blood pounding in your ears. He needn’t have even asked.

It takes a moment to find your voice, but you make sure it reaches him even as a whisper.

“As long as you promise to give it back.” Your fingers toy with the back of his silk tie.

You don’t mistake the way his arms tremble like he’s afraid to hold you any tighter. 

His words fall on a cadence weighted down by obvious want.

“If that’s the price for stealing such a lovely treasure,” he respires synthetically, “then I might just have to pay it over and over again.”

In the next second, his mouth finds yours, pressing headily to your lips and threatening to consume you whole. You gasp against him, clinging to the back of his shirt needily while his hand crawls to the back of your head and cups it in a gentle hold so that he can better angle the kiss. His arm doesn’t constrict your waist, but he keeps you there with the assuredness that he doesn’t want to let you go, and his deep groan at your insistence to hold him even tighter makes you lightheaded.

The snowing has stopped, and the temperature has continued to only drop, but you couldn’t feel hotter. The flame inside of you bursts to life with a rush of a powerful emotion that would have once scared you away. Now you only tiptoe around it, not ready to reveal it yet but knowing that it is there, waiting and growing steadily every moment you spend with Sun and his brothers. 

You tilt your head with a ragged exhale while Sun twines some of your hair between his fingers, not yanking but prompting a delicious tension that sends a wonderful pleasure through your skull. You’re shivering again, and it’s all his doing.

He writes intimacy and sentiment on your lips with his teeth, capturing every micro-breath you try to take, and still you try to press closer to him. He breaks the kiss for a split second that allows you all of one heightened inhale before he’s stealing that too, and you’re burning together in an addictive passion that you never want to unlearn. For as long as he’ll allow it, you want to know only the smooth curve of his mouth and the hot metal of his chassis that is flush with your chest and the distracting digits dragging along the back of your head and the protective line of his arm that coils around your waist with an equally firm hand securing you there.

That’s all you need to know in the moment.

When Sun parts from you, moving away first because he probably correctly guessed that you’d keep kissing him until you passed out, his eyes slip open halfway, and his grin is askew like he’s swooning. You’re sure you have a similar goofy look too, concealed just barely by the clouds of white that spill out along every exhale while your lungs hurt delightfully. The cold snap strengthens when yellow rays spin at such a fast pace, they’re almost invisible.

The world is near-silent up here, city activity sounding so far away that it doesn’t disturb this perfect peace you’ve found. You don’t want to break the quiet and risk it all being a figment of your imagination once more. So you watch in wonder at how Sun peers at you intently, like he’s fascinated by whatever sight you make.

He braves cutting the silence first, albeit with a far-from-intrusive volume.

“Hmm, how was that? Do you think we got it right, or should we try again?”

You exhale long and slow. The white cloud of air billows.

“I don’t see how it could possibly be more perfect than that.” You adore the way Sun melts at your admission. “At this point, I’m just waiting to wake up.”

The solar animatronic pauses. His rays twist again, back and forth as if in uncertainty.

“From a dream or a nightmare?” he presses.

“A dream, silly.” You fondly shake your head. “Just seems like I’ve been imagining having this for so long, it doesn’t feel real. You, Moon, and Eclipse. I’m worried I’ll blink and be back in my own bed again, alone.”

The hand at your side taps a little rhythm. Sun’s nervousness vanishes as quick as a spring shower.

“I’m afraid to break the news to you,” he says, “but if those are the dreams you’re having, I won’t be waking you up anytime soon.”

You receive a quick kiss on the nose, which makes you twitch and Sun coo at that. You get him back with a kiss to the corner of his teeth. His wavering thrum of pleasure draws out until it morphs into a frustrated groan.

It’s your turn for concern.

“What’s wrong?”

Sun grunts, “Nothing, nothing. Just reminded that I am sadly not an only child.”

“What?”

He inclines his head at something behind you, and you turn in his arms to see what he’s looking at, much to his disheartened whine.

Just beyond the pool room next to the glass door that requires a key to enter, Moon stands there in the hallway, pressed to the glass and a dead grin on his face. His red pupils nearly take up the entirety of his optics. Eclipse is not too far off, but he’s at least giving you some sense of privacy by not staring your way.

Moon gives you a little wave.

You turn back to Sun.

“You know those videos people post of their pets watching them from the window?”

Sun releases a loud, rumbling hiss of static amusement.

“Oh, don’t let them hear you say that. I’m pretty sure at least one of those two in there bites.”

“But not you?” you quip, elbowing him.

Blue flickers against white.

“Only if you ask me to.”

Right then. Probably should have seen that one coming from a mile away. 

“Raincheck,” you deflect. “Let’s let the others out first before they miss the fireworks.”

Sun dramatically releases you with a disappointed flair fitting for the stage, but he does as you request.

“I’ll go get the door. You wait right there, precious.”

You watch him skitter over back around the outdoor pool, through the door into the pool room, and then over to the door where his brothers wait. As soon as he tries to open it, a strange sort of tug of war begins where Sun attempts to pull one way, and Moon pulls just as hard on the other side. Judging by his expression, he’s doing it just for the sake of being a brat. The two engage in some back and forth, and though you can’t hear them, you can see Sun’s annoyance and Moon’s pure delight. It’s broken up finally by Eclipse grabbing the back of Moon’s coat and lifting him up like he’s scruffing a cat. Moon doesn’t even put up a fight, seemingly appeased that he sufficiently got under his other brother’s wires.

Once Eclipse sets him back down, Sun opens the door, and the three of them traipse through the pool room to the rooftop exit.

“I should have just left you in there!” Sun is saying as he throws open the door with a harrumph. “Honestly, you’re just so unnecessarily much sometimes!”

“Worth it,” Moon returns, unaffected by his sibling’s agitation. He lights up when he spies you.

“Moonie,” you tease as he approaches, “are you annoying your brother again on purpose?”

“No,” Moon says at the same time Sun gives an annoyed “yes.”

“It’s sibling tax,” he clarifies, coming to a stop next to you.

You tsk.

“I’d be careful if I were you. That sibling tax might come at a cost if Sun decides to do something like throw your hat off the building.”

You’ve barely finished the sentence before dark blue and silver digits are slamming onto the brim of Moon’s hat. He sends a dirty scowl at his brother who’s more than intrigued at the prospect by the sounds of it.

His voice is gruff and disapproving at you.

“Don’t give him ideas.”

Sun snips back, “Don’t be a varmint then.”

While the bickering continues, you find yourself mouthing varmint in confusion at Eclipse. He just shakes his head, equally bemused.

“Three minutes to midnight,” he announces over the sounds of ill-timed threats, probably to redirect his brothers’ focus.

You face the harbor. Sun stands sullenly at your side, and you startle in initial surprise when two arms slide over your shoulders from behind and loosely cross your chest. You sag against Eclipse, idly reaching up to rub one of his wrists as the approaching hour and year looms before you. It’s crazy to you how in such a short amount of time, you’ve grown so comfortable with the celestial brothers. Like something you’ve come to expect and especially welcome. The meaning and intent behind that comfort is the only part that’s shifted, and the change is one that leaves you undeniably giddy.

You’ve celebrated New Year’s Eve before, but never like this. Not with people who mean the world to you in ways you can’t even describe. It’s an entirely new course of life that you’re about to start with them, tentatively exploring this uncharted territory together, and the thought stirs up your curiosity.

What lies ahead? Not just relationship-wise, though that’s something you doubt you could really fathom with all the nuances you will surely find. The unknowing surrounding it actually gives you some relief. You don’t have to stress over and evaluate your every move. Whatever happens with them—with Sun, Moon, and Eclipse—will happen naturally. It’s cause for excitement, which has you shivering from more than just the cold now.

But you find your mind drifting to what will come after this show is finished. You’ve gotten so used to being with them at most hours of the day because you work together. What will it be like afterwards when the time you have with them will be reserved for coming home to a full apartment and making new memories in a much more intimate setting? Where will their talent take them next?

Before you can second-guess yourself, you broach the topic.

“Earlier tonight, I asked you what you’re doing after this,” you say, feeling the heavy weight of the attention from all three. You wet your dry lips. “And Moon was too busy being a gremlin to let me get a straight answer.”

The corners of Moon’s mouth scrunch up, but he doesn’t interrupt you.

“What I really meant back there was… what are you guys going to do after our show is over? Do you have any gigs lined up?”

“Not quite.” Sun clasps his hands together. “But our agent did tip us about a possible dual leviathan role that myself and Moon might consider. It’d mean a lot of CGI, but we would get to wear those funky motion capture suits with the little dots all over them! So who knows. We might just end up trying out for that.”

Your lips quirk in bemusement as you try to imagine it.

“Don’t you need to be, I don’t know, swimming in order to act out a big, scary leviathan?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Moon dismisses, and he leans back against the rooftop balcony. The gentle crimson glow when he studies you is like dying stars in this low light. “If anything, it will be a chance to challenge ourselves in not using our voices as much unless they decide to make the leviathans capable of speech. What Sun said does have its appeal, and we’d probably get to experience some wire acrobatics. But I also think we’d have fun trying our hands at something spooky. Maybe with cryptids or familiars or lifeguards. We’re great at being scary, you know.”

Your face wrinkles.

“One of those is not like the others.” 

“You just haven’t seen me acting as a demon yet.”

“I see you act like that every day,” you say evenly to the tune of Sun’s and Eclipse’s ensuing chortles and Moon’s sharp squint. “Wouldn’t really call that one the outlier of the ideas you suggested.”

“Whatever the case, Clip hasn’t decided where he’ll go next either,” Sun adds, earning a noise of agreement from the animatronic behind you. “I heard there might be potential for a third role in the leviathan storyline, but it would be a prequel of sorts. Curious how they’re planning on pulling that one off.”

“They really do plan ahead, huh?” You tap a finger on your arm, and your gaze is pulled to the winter night sky once more. It is so beautiful up here.

“And what about you?” Eclipse chimes next. “Where will you go after this?”

A hum stirs from your throat.

You’re not sure yet. There is a realm of possibilities stretching out before you. The time to contact your acting agent is nearing, and you feel a strong curl of melancholy at the show you’ve put your heart and soul into coming to its end. It’s been a wild ride, and the memories you’ve gained from your experiences will follow you long after you’ve parted ways with the show. But as Sun said, who knows? Maybe one day you’ll find yourself slipping back into your vigilante costume again and playing a game of chase with a pair of handsome detectives.

You look to your boys, standing with you in the cold and enjoying the seclusion from the rest of the city. 

“I haven’t quite figured that out yet,” you answer truthfully. You reach out, and without hesitation, Sun and Moon each take your offered hands, one after the other, large metal joints protecting your fragile fingers from the bitter chill. “But no matter where I end up, I’m sure that it won’t be the same without working next to you.”

Sun holds you tighter.

“True, it will be impossible to ever replace the amazing cohorts that we were. But that’s why you’ve got us to come home to now, yes?”

His happy expression reflects back onto you. He’s right. You have a lot to explore now, don’t you? And it all starts with them.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t worry about the future now. After all, I’ve only got two hands.”

Moon’s optics gleam dangerously with his ever-present grin.

“Don’t forget your third one,” he says, nodding surreptitiously behind you.

You start to turn, but before you can, Eclipse’s voice grazes your ear.

“Oh, they won’t.”

Cold metal just barely singes you as a large hand brushes under your chin and tilts your head up until you can see him hovering over you. His eyes are flames in the dark, shining upon you with the intensity of a celestial body. His rays have begun to whirl, and you think it might be because of the wind because it sorely reminds you of a pinwheel, and you have to choke back a laugh. It’s not hard to do when his fingertips caress your skin, snaring your focus and dragging a plume of air past your lips.

“No,” you agree warmly. “I won’t.”

Your inhale stutters right back out when the animatronic stoops down low enough to press a kiss to your forehead before letting your chin go. The sound of a piercing whistle and thunderous boom retrieves your attention, bringing it to the harbor as the first crackles of color light up the night.

The ensuing display is breathtaking. The subtle smell of smoke from the fireworks catches on the wind and carries over to your group as you watch in awe the dawning of a new year. It’s heralded by sparks of intricate designs and blooms that make you squeeze the hands you’re holding on to, savoring the twin pulses you receive in turn. The presence at your back is a solid wall shielding you from the cold as much as possible, heavy arms a comfort that drape loosely around your front.

As you enjoy the fireworks with Moon, Eclipse, and Sun, you can’t help but smirk at what your beloved vigilante would have to say to this. No doubt they’d believe it to be some fever dream, and honestly, up until tonight, you’d thought the same. You’re certain that the smooth operative nature of the brothers’ teamwork to subdue your heart is almost identical to a parallel universe of a different era and a different story—one you can imagine as surely as the ringing of bells in your hair.

Just, you know. Under very different circumstances and outcomes.

For the next half hour, you relish the colorful nighttime display with your boys, all the way up to and through the grand finale. By the time the show ends, you are shaking from the cold, but it’s worth it for the special moment you get to share with them. Everything melds together in a joyous night that follows you all the way back home with the three animatronics whom you adore. Perhaps one day, you might even have the courage to confess that you love them, even though you have a strong suspicion they already know that, confession or no. It’s a comfort to know that just like with everything else, they’ll wait for you first.

But that’s a story for another time.

#eclipse x reader #sun x reader #moon x reader #daycare attendant x reader #sleuth jesters actor au #fnaf sb #writing tag #hope you all enjoy sweet and kind Eclipse while he lasts #because after this I'm jumping back into the other AU where he lives and makes it everyone's problem lol

[katarvitz]

WIP Galore

So, @rai-knightshade nominated me for the following after they were tagged in by someone else:

Write the latest line from your WIP (or post where you last left off in your art), and tag as many people as there are words in the line. Make a new post, don't reblog!

In my case this is a bit problematic, as I've got about five or six things ongoing at once. Some stories, some tabletop, some just ideas that I've noted down as an idea to get back to much later on, and a few that are just bullet points. So, let's just give the quick version.

The first of these was a competition from the Dark Jedi Brotherhood to write a story about a character reflecting upon their mistakes. This is being re-written and expanded upon, but the last line was an amusing one:

No other group their size would have been brazen or determined enough to reach the building amid a storm for just food and drink.

Another one that is a pure monologue, presented as a lesson to an unseen class:

“It shows our true selves, it reveals what we are to the galaxy."

The rest are a mix of ongoing efforts. I'm not about to show off commissions, so here's a bunch of restoration efforts and some personal projects which are in the pipeline.

Starting with a White Scars Kill-Team I'm finishing off:

The previously shown Thunder Warriors (this time with a close-up of a few I'm just presenting here):

A heavily customised Eldar Wraithknight that I started on and has sadly been on the back burner for a bit too long now:

A Bolt Action force that I bought up and I'm repainting (with the gun carrier here as a quick stand-in):

Some Gue'vesa that I'm working up bit by bit, but was delayed due to the wealth of goodies the Imperial Guard/Astra Militarum are getting:

A force of Eldar Exodites (some are done, others I'm working on, so here's the big dinosaur transport):

And a lot of Battletech (the King Crab here is one done by someone else, I'm just finishing it and using it as a reference for the rest of my ComStar mob before I move onto the Nova Cats and Northwind Highlanders):

So, now I need to tag in a few followers. I'm going to fudge the numbers a bit here, but this is everyone I can justify tagging:

@zrinboy (please follow him for tabletop things of every sort)

@royal-occultist-compendium (seriously follow him for brilliant stories)

@loktarogar (lots of fantastic tabletop stuff)

@jayadan (Game store owner, fantastic painter, and brilliant guy)

@carlageddon (a returning face to tabletop gaming with displays from the 90s)

@sirianddeanseethestars (owner of the blog of many fandoms among other things)

@explosiverunes (She with more models than God)

@mxmastermikah (With everything from 40K to Gunpla on their blog)

@radishgnome (with paintings, art and everything besides to show)

@kalamitykas (talented multimedia artist I was very glad to find on here after largely retreating from Twitter)

And that's all I can manage here.

#i got tagged #tag game #story ideas #fiction #tabletop miniatures #wipart #wip story #40k #battletech #tabletop games #star wars

[interact-if]

Day 4 of our Asian and Pacific Islander Heritage Month Featured Author Interviews, continuing with Jinx!

Jinx author of Elsinore: After Hamlet

Once upon a time, a prince avenged his father’s death. If only he could have foreseen his own.

The year is 2021—or maybe 1602? Hamlet the Younger has just tragically died and Fortinbras the Younger, King of Norway and newly-conquered Denmark, has a lot of cleaning up to do. Elsinore: After Hamlet is a text-based interactive fiction exploration of William Shakespeare's Hamlet as a plague text and a reckoning of Asian American identity during these trying times. Also contains bad puns and glowing text.

Read more about Elsinore: After Hamlet here.

Play the Game Here.

Tags: Fantasy.

Jinx is also the author of The Harrowed and the Hushed and Rougi.

[INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!]

Q1. Hello! Could you tell us a little bit about to yourself and your project?

Hi! I’m Jinx (she/her), longtime listener and first time caller, writer, and lover of the cute and the gothic.

I’ve always loved writing and first got into interactive fiction during the first lockdowns in 2020. I fell in love with the medium and it’s been such a wonderful adventure since. My first project, Elsinore: After Hamlet,deals with a lot of the frustration and uncertainty I felt during that time as an Asian American with the rug pulled from under all of us. I’m currently working on The Harrowed and the Hushed, a low fantasy murder mystery set in Victorian London, and Rougi, a social intrigue mystery about a cursed ballet in Belle Époque Paris. I really enjoy working with illusions, intrigue, and how we can find ourselves in the strange and monstrous.

Q2. What inspired your current project?

My current projects, The Harrowed and the Hushed and Rougi, are rooted in my undying love of the late 19th century and gothic literature – I love me a good dramatic mystery too, which I’m sure comes as a surprise to absolutely no one. H&H draws a lot from the genre of sensation fiction, which aims to elicit physical reactions in its readers with sensationalized, page-turner plots. The genre traditionally deals very heavily with metaphors of social and identity anxieties, which also made it a very natural source of inspiration for me since those are themes that I really love exploring with my writing. H&H is essentially a love letter to a lot of things I adore, garnished with references to Gothic, Romantic, and Decadent literature, plus my own cultural spin on things. (If you were wondering if some of my characters were named in homage…the answer is probably yes.)

Rougi, which was my entry to interact-if’s January game jam, really came from me looking at color theory and running with it. Based on the “red herring” theme, I knew I wanted to do something with a very strong aesthetic component, so I went back to my bunhead roots and turned it up to the max. I love ballet and as a former dancer, I felt like drama backstage and onstage was the perfect backdrop for a mix of possibly supernatural, definitely interpersonal intrigue. Also, Art Nouveau is so gorgeous and I wanted to write about pretty things (possibly with ugly insides wink-wonk).

Elsinore: After Hamlet is my very first IF project and a real testament to the tangled state of mind I experienced for the bulk of 2021. That spring was so chaotic – lots of sleepless nights and worries gnawing at me from the inside out. E:AH originally started as a final project for a class on medicine and literature, and very quickly became a surprisingly intimate way for me to create some kind of catharsis while the world seemed to fall apart. (Shoutout to the professor who was very chill with me submitting literal plague doctor memes for class discussion, she made Zoom U much better.) I am a self-professed Shakespeare nerd, and looking at one of my favorite plays through a very personal, emotional lens was such an intense experience. I didn’t expect that the development process would break me out of the apathy I’d fallen into at all, let alone so fiercely, but it was a welcome change from feeling scared and dissociated almost constantly.

Q3. Do you pull from your own identity for inspiration? How has that been reflected in your work?

My identity definitely influences how I approach narratives. E:AH was a direct product of the stress I felt juggling my responsibilities as a student, pressure from the pandemic, and my fears as an Asian American woman in a space that became incredibly hostile and unstable. It’s really a slice of how I was experiencing life at the time, and I hope that resonates with players and gets them thinking. For Asian players, I hope that E:AH is a cathartic experience; for non-Asian players, I hope that it shares a different, impactful perspective.

As a kid, I really fixated on the few instances of Asian representation I found in media, so as a creator now, it’s incredibly empowering to be able to include characters who reflect my own experiences and hopefully connect with my audience too. Decentralizing whiteness, particularly in traditionally eurocentric narratives, is very hard-baked into what I create. On a lighter note, food as a love language is also a big cultural influence on my writing and that definitely shows, haha. I’m a huge foodie IRL as well, so coupled with my synesthesia, my writing definitely falls heavily on the sensory side.

Q4. What are you most excited about your project?

E:AH is deeply personal and combines two of my greatest passions (Shakespeare and ~ being melodramatic ~), so while it’s a little scary to have something so near and dear to me out on the internet, I’m absolutely blown away by the response it’s received so far. I’m super excited to see how the playing experience changes (for me personally and in general) over time – I can already foresee it becoming a little like a diary entry preserved online.

As for the two projects I’m currently working on, I am so excited to see how players react to the twists and turns I’m writing into Rougi. I was a little overambitious when planning it out for the January game jam I crafted it for, so I can’t wait to flesh it out fully. Rougi is also my first project written in Sugarcube, so the transition has definitely been a learning journey and I’m excited to show off what I’ve learned.

With The Harrowed and the Hushed, I think I’m most excited about sharing all the lore I’ve built up. Fantasy is the first genre I fell in love with, so getting to create and share my own magical vision is really, really cool.

Q5. What has your experience writing an IF and with the IF community been like?

My introduction to IF came during a lot of turmoil, and the community has been so friendly and supportive. It’s been a blast diving into all these amazing projects and meeting lots of wonderful people! Learning to code has been fun frustrating a very unique and rewarding journey, and it’s seriously such a fantastic feeling to see all the pieces – drafting, Twine-wrangling, writing, UI building – fit together to make a final product. I’m so thankful that my experience with the community so far has led me to make very dear friends and interact with kind and thoughtful readers.

Q7. What piece of advice would you give to fellow creators?

*Shia Laboeuf voice* JUST DO IT. No, but seriously: your story is uniquely yours and there is no one better to tell it. Storytelling is such an intrinsic part of human history and I think it’s one of the most beautiful records of our presence and our world. Despite the obstacles and frustration that comes with being a creator, there’s nothing like the satisfaction of fulfilling that scene you’ve been dying to write, or finally nailing the code you’ve been struggling with. Take care of yourself, and always remember the excitement and passion that led you to where you are now. I’m rooting for you!

That, and don’t code or debug when you’re sleepy. The bug will still be there (unfortunately) after you sleep, and you run far less risk of falling asleep at your computer and waking up to several pages of random characters in the middle of your stylesheet or having to hunt down every time you misspelled a variable…I may or may not be speaking from personal experience.

#if: events #API 2022 #Asian and Pacific Islander Heritage Month

[thepariahcontinuum]

Parahuman power ideas:

1: A tinker whose specialty is to build a crappy, gas-powered device they solves the last problem they heard a person mention. Gets headaches if they hear something the shards can't/won't solve or if he hears another problem before finishing the current project.

2: A blaster/stranger whose blasts become harmless to anybody that sees them. They glow and travel at maybe 20-30 mph so spotting them isn't hard.

3: A breaker who turns into/from lunar sediment. Has no control over their "body" while transformed.

I originally wrote up these three as a cluster trigger but I think I'll leave it up to you if they are or not.

Okay I did a cluster as one of the recent submissions to this so I'm gonna say that this isn't a cluster.

Also, in going to make it a rule now that unless you're specifically asking for a cluster or capes that have a reason to be part of the same submission that you send ideas one at a time....These bulk asks are getting a bit much.

The first one: Oh there's potential for this one....This is a villain/mercenary rogue by necessity. This is a guy who would have loved to stay out of all of the cape nonsense and use his powers to run a legitimate business, the problem is that there are laws which effectively stop Tinkers from running a business that competes with non-Capes. Eventually he decided that if he's going to be forced out of legal work that he should commit to the bit.... He's something of a one-stop shop for quick and dirty, cheap but largely effective solutions that a lot of the small to mid tier villains without the means and resources to have their own in-house people. He is on the other hand someone who will be at every Endbringer fight he can reach, usually with a big gas-powered mech or tank.

His entire aesthetic is steampunk, a mix of gentleman and inventor; hides his face behind heavy goggles, wears a top hat and has a very twirly moustache.

Cape name: "Captain of Industry"

The second one: so you didn't specify but I'm imagining these blasts as similar to Legend's lasers but heavily nerfed because of the limit you specified.

I feel like this guy is ex-military like Narwhal, possibly a sniper which would make the limits of the power fitting in that twisted way Worn does....He was honourably discharged after Triggering and managed to make a living as one of those background capes the PRT just has guarding things and out of the limelight.

Until he found a marketable niche.

He's a blaster, but he likes to function as a striker.... Basically he wears a really subtle costume with a regular coat over it and is the person to take point on engaging villains, primarily getting close enough to fire a blast from point blank..... Doesn't matter how slow the blast moves if it hits you in the back of the head from half an inch away. He's still not massively popular but he's got a use and enough of a cult following to justify them making merch and giving him a few public appearances and interviews.... Although a lot of them are with podcasts run my utter dicks.

Cape name: "Astonish" (Partly because of comic names like "Astonishing Spider-Man" and partly because of the Pokemon move Astonish which makes the opponent flinch)

The third one: Okay I'm gonna need some clarification on this power...Do they actually became a lump of lunar sediment and just exist as a lump of crumbly dirt with no power to affect anything? Because that would be entirely useless beyond being a screaming red flag about this characters self image.

Or is it what I imagined.....A Hulk like scenario where they become a rage monster made of disconnected moon rock and dust, with the breaker category coming from the fact that each of the disconnected parts can function somewhat independently? Because that has some potential.

I don't have much of a background in mind for this character, only that she's a patient at the asylum who checked herself in upon realising that she had absolutely no control over her actions in her alternate state and that changing back was difficult.....Also, she's gotta be involved in the half built moon city, if only tangentially.

Cape name: "Lunacy"....A pun I am not ashamed of.

#worm web serial #wildbow #parahumans #Worm OC #735598445a

[rosietrace]

Poisonous touch

Event: Rosie's 2023 valentines day event 💌❣️

Part 2 of [ Record Waltz ]

Ocs featured: Victoria Shard, Yasuno Innochi(@fumikomiyasaki )

Mentioned character: Vil Schoenheit

Ship: Victoria (🪞) x Yasuno

Summary: Yasuno decided to annoy visit his girlfriend, Victoria, while she was working on her alchemy project.

Warning(s): Potential ooc moments, mention of rat poison, Yasuno

{ Apologies for any out of character moments }

[ Reblogs are recommended/encouraged ]

"Just what do you think you're doing here, you devil?"

Yasuno whistled flirtatiously, eyeing Victoria with an amused expression.

"Am I not allowed to see my girlfriend on valentine's day, or…?" He didn't bother to finish his potential question.

Victoria sighed heavily, ignoring his words and continuing to pick herbs from the Pomefiore forests.

Yasuno took it upon himself to visit NRC instead of having Victoria visit him instead. A change that she wouldn't really admit to liking.

He tilted his head, slowly getting closer."What are you doin'?" Yasuno asked, genuine curiosity hidden within his voice.

Victoria pursed her lips before she answered.

"As you can clearly see, I'm picking ingredients for my alchemy project." She put on gloves to pick up the poison ivy.

"I'd much rather prefer it if you didn't interrupt my progress. But since it's valentine's day… I'll let it slide." She added, taking her basket of herbs and other plants and dragging her boyfriend into her dormitory's laboratory.

Yasuno hummed, a sly look in his eyes."Good to know that you have a heart somewhere in there, angel."

She gritted her teeth in annoyance at his constant use of that nickname.

Angel? Victoria was far from one.

"Haven't I told you how much I despise that term of endearment?"

"You didn't ask me to stop saying it though, my angel."

Victoria fell silent for a quick second before she shook her head and used the keys she borrowed from Vil to open the door to the lab.

Yasuno held back a snort when he noticed the tips of her ears go pink.

The two of them entered the lab and got to work. Although Victoria begrudgingly allowed Yasuno to help her out.

Even though Yasuno knew she was perfectly capable of doing it on her own.

♜♛__________________________________♛♜

"I gotta say, angel, you're perfectly capable of doing this project on your own. And yet you ask me for my help?"

"I didn't ask you to help me. I allowed you to. You could've denied my offer, y'know."

Victoria rolled her eyes, gently mixing the concoction. Her touch looked so delicate that Yasuno couldn't believe how brutal she genuinely was.

"Rat poison." She requested curtly, expecting an immediate response from her devilish boyfriend.

Yasuno nodded vehemently, casually handing her the rat poison with an expressionless face.

At first, Victoria only added a couple of droplets of rat poison into the cauldron. But after glancing at the bottle containing it, she poured the entire thing into the cauldron without a care in the world.

Yasuno snorted."Are you sure that won't affect your results?"

She nodded without hesitation."I know what I'm doing, you devil. You know that." She spoke out of nowhere.

Yasuno walked towards her with a jar of witch eyes, knowing that she'll need them."I know." Was all he said before he poured five of the witch eyes for her.

As much as she hated to admit it, Victoria didn't entirely despise Yasuno. Which was obvious, since she was dating him.

But still. She's always shown disdain and utter irritation in his presence and frequently threatens to stab his eyes with glass.

So one could imagine the surprise their peers had when they unintentionally announced their relationship. It was unexpected, yet oddly fitting for the two of them.

No matter how much their personalities clashed, the two of them understood each other.

Not perfectly, but they knew each other better than most.

And they both knew that. They both knew that they didn't have to say anything for the other to respond accordingly. Words didn't matter for the two of them.

Body language did.

Yasuno put the jar away, and gently wrapped his arms around Victoria's waist, pulling her body close.

Victoria didn't flinch. She expected that. The look in Yasuno's eyes was enough to suggest what he was going to do.

A small smile was on her somewhat amused face.

She turned away from the cauldron, facing Yasuno with an amused smile. One that he adored so much.

They both walked out of the laboratory once the alchemy project was finished. And they didn't hesitate to walk straight to Victoria's room, not caring about the numerous eyes that were on them.

Once Victoria closed the door, Yasuno lifted her chin.

"Happy Valentine's day, angel…. I'll make it worth your while."

Victoria pulled him into a quick kiss. When they pulled away, her arms wrapped themselves around Yasuno's neck.

"Your touch is poisonous… And I won't deny the euphoria I get from it."

Taglist: [ I would like to hear your thoughts if possible! ]

@starry-night-rose @windbornearchon @nem0-nee @authoruio @sakuramidnight15 @oseathepebble @geminiiviolets @twsted-princess

For: @fumikomiyasaki

Happy Valentine's day, Fumi! I hope you enjoy this oneshot, even if it felt a bit rushed ^^|| I was struggling to write every request all at once since I wanted to make the valentine's week special for everyone-

#twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #victoria shard #twst ask #oc asks #asks #oc x oc ask #oc x oc request #oc x oc #oc x oc ship #twst oc x oc #night raven college oc #pomefiore oc #nrc oc #twst pomefiore #pomefiore #yasuno x victoria 🪞 #victoria x yasuno #ship oneshot #oc oneshot #twst oneshot #oneshot #mutuals ask #mutuals <3 #rosie [ valentines specials ] ♡⁠˖⁠꒰⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠⑅⁠꒱

[goddamnitlopori]

Wolf (2021), disaster or masterpiece?

Short answer: neither. 

I recently saw Wolf, an indie film about people with species dysphoria undergoing conversion therapy at the hands of a sadistic doctor. Though not without its flaws, it was enjoyable, especially when watched with friends. I wanted to write a review from the perspective of someone who on the whole, liked it. (film spoilers ahead!)

I’ll try to summarise as best I can, what the film got right and where it failed (imo). Plus neutral observations. 

The positives: The acting, the actors really carried the story, ran with it. The protagonists are all likeable, they had the vibe of their animals which is a fun touch. Rufus, the German Shepard, has a doglike energy and gregariousness. Jacob, the wolf, is more serious and brooding like stereotypical wolf people lol. Judith, the parrot, likes to copy people, somewhat reminiscent of autistic echolalia. Whether that was on purpose I don’t know. I think it’s likely an accident, as Judith mimics more deliberately. When the residents moved around like their particular animal when “shifted” so to speak, they did a very convincing job. They were trained by Terry Notary, who is a movement coach for mocap actors etc, he knows his shit. You can tell when Terry has worked on a project.

This might surprise some, but I genuinely find it a sympathetic portrayal. Though very exaggerated and goofy at times, when characters sat down and spoke of their experiences it was accurate. There’s a scene where Annalisa (panda) reads Jacob’s poetry about his dysphoria, it could’ve been ripped straight from a therian forum thread. Annalisa herself also talks a lot like us. There were some really poignant lines for me personally, too. The film makes it abundantly clear that none of these people should be locked up. Everyone is varying levels of animal-person, ranging from a kid who really likes ducks to people with a more extreme, behaviourally outward condition. All of them mistreated the same way, and none of it justified. They want us to root for these characters, they want us to want their freedom to be themselves. There is no mistaking what the message is.  And that leads me to the negatives, it is almost too obvious who the good/bad guys are. The antagonist, Dr. Mann, is a pantomime villain in his mannerisms. It kills suspension of disbelief. While I'm sure there are sadistic quacks in medicine irl, he lacks personality and complexity. There was one scene that hinted at Dr. Mann maybe being a closeted animal-person himself, but that was never further explored. This is a common flaw in the film, the pacing is all over the place, scenes escalate instantly, ramping up the drama or horror in a second. A character or plot point gets introduced only to never be mentioned again. I reckon there might have been a lot of footage that never made it to the final cut. The plot could really use some fleshing out, an extra 15 minutes on the run time would have done it wonders. Though their intentions are clearly good, I think the film leans too heavily on trauma being the single explanation for species dysphoria. In reality it’s multi-faceted. I’m not mad though. 

Other observations: It so kinky!? The dynamics between Dr. Mann and his patients, the props, the costumes, may as well be BDSM. Hard to tell if it’s intentional or just being artsy? Interestingly, rather than the doctors reminding patients that they are human, they defaulted to “boy” or “girl”. Leaving the facility a boy or girl is the end goal. Which could be interpreted as an allegory for repressing transgenderism. The film wasn’t really meant to be analogous to gender etc, but there are bound to be many comparisons with real life phenomena, hard to avoid. Institutionalisation is touched upon too, through Wildcat’s character. The “therapy” the patients undergo involves constant mixed messages, and it’s a bit heartbreaking. I especially feel for Jeremy (squirrel), poor lad never catches a break. As rewards for good behaviour they get to dress up as their animal, but once they act out, they’re severely punished. I think to shame them for wanting the animalistic rewards? A lot of it was of course, cartoonishly over the top. But the underlying ideas are near identical to actual antikin insults, “if you’re an animal, then why don’t you act like one? Oh you can’t, ahahaha checkmate”. Crap argument, a human body/brain and human socialisation are not insignificant factors, it’s a subjective identity. Couldn’t run a successful medical establishment built on such half assed rhetoric. Good thing it is so unrealistic, eh? In summary, I would give this film 3/5 stars. Not bad, not great, but entertaining. And at times rather touching. I just wish the film was better paced and didn’t spoon feed the message too much. 

#wolf (2021) #review #species dysphoria #movie #wolf #therianthropy #alterhuman #otherkin #transspecies #wolf film #wolf movie #indie #indie film

[lucky-sevens]

mechanisms basics & lore

welcome to my updated mechanisms intro post! this post will cover both the topics discussed in my mechanisms basics post, which is geared towards people who don’t know what the mechanisms are, and my deep lore post, which aimed to be a comprehensive compilation of all the important character and world lore. this post should serve the above group, but it’s geared towards people who have listened but feel there’s a lot of lore that seems to be common knowledge they’re missing. we’ll start out with a basic introduction, and then go into crew lore and a semi-comprehensive guide on where to go for further information.

basics

the mechanisms were a steampunk concept band, known for their queer representation and their tragic stories. they are no longer together, their last performance being january 2020, but several of their members are still creating related spinoff content.

they follow the trope many steampunk bands do, which is albums that tell a story; think similar to listening to a musical soundtrack, but geared to a visual-less experience. what distinguishes them is 1) narration tracks between each song, making the plot very easy to follow, and 2) being meant to be watched live, meaning there’s layers of meta that are more easily understood by watching recorded gigs rather than studio recordings of albums. specifically, there’s a focus on the narrators, known as the mechanisms or the crew of the aurora, who are immortal space pirates telling the stories and occasionally inserting themselves into them. though they are tragic figures themselves, their banter serves the purpose of bringing a lightheartedness and dark humor to the stories. if there’s an aspect of the lore you’re confused on, it’s probably related to the narrators!

to watch the mechanisms live, you can find recordings on youtube, dropbox, google drive, soundcloud, or vimeo, which are all compiled in this post (including transcripts!). if visuals aren’t your thing, i’ve linked the studio recordings later on in this post when they come up, and here are the mechanisms’ official spotify, bandcamp, and youtube, as well as an unofficial comprehensive lyric videos channel. 

the albums

regarding the albums specifically, there are 4 main ones (once upon a time (in space), ulysses dies at dawn, high noon over camelot, and the bifrost incident), 2 that are compilations of miscellaneous songs (tales to be told 1 & 2), 1 single (frankenstein), and 1 album that’s a high-quality recording of their last live show, including an alternative performance of the bifrost incident, 2 songs only performed at live shows, and 'the deathsong’, which details how they all eventually die (death to the mechanisms).

as you might have been able to tell from the titles, they’re all based off of various myths, folklore, literature, and/or fairy tales, using different genres on top of a sci-fi setting to add a fresh twist to them! for example, high noon over camelot is a western based on arthurian mythos, set on a space station. (the albums are known for all ending in tragedy, so be careful if that isn’t your cup of tea!) if your goal is to get into the mechanisms, i’d suggest sitting down and listening to them all in full; links will be provided below, or alternatively you can watch once upon a time (in space) live here, ulysses dies at dawn live here, or the bifrost incident live here. (there is no full live recording with visuals of high noon over camelot, sadly, but there are partial and audio only recordings.)

once upon a time (in space) - spotify/bandcamp/youtube

ulysses dies at dawn - spotify/bandcamp/youtube

high noon over camelot - spotify/bandcamp/youtube

the bifrost incident - spotify/bandcamp/youtube

tales to be told, volume 1 -  spotify/bandcamp/youtube

tales to be told, volume 2 - spotify/bandcamp/youtube

frankenstein - spotify/bandcamp/youtube

death to the mechanisms - edited video with the stream corruption fixed + subtitles / stream / spotify / bandcamp / youtube / transcript pt. 1 / transcript pt. 2

reading the fiction is integral to understanding both the albums and the mechanisms themselves. the fiction is a collection of short stories set in the mechanisms universe posted on their website here and compiled by me here, with an extra high noon over camelot story here. (there are also audio versions for ‘mirror mirror’ and ‘a rebel yell’ included on both the website and the compilation).

the crew of the aurora

as for the crew, at their peak there were nine members played by people, as well as the ex-member dr carmilla, who has extensive solo lore and is still active (which we’ll touch on in a few paragraphs). there is also their ship, the aurora, who is sentient and has her own lore. in fact, every member of the crew has their own backstory, set in a different genre or historical period; for example, nastya rasputina's is historical, jonny d’ville’s is a western and marius von raum’s is a mecha anime. however, they’re all still different flavors of steampunk! below, i’ll list each member, their performer, and the main sources of lore about them. for the majority of them, they have their own song in tales to be told, but there are a few outliers. everyone also has their own bio up on the website, which can all be found here. 

the aurora (n/a, ship)- on aurora (meta)

jonny d’ville (jonny sims)- one eyed jacks (song), jonny before he was mechanized (meta)

nastya rasputina (anonymous)- cyberian demons (song)

ivy alexandria (morgan wilkinson)- archive footage (fiction), crew bio

ashes o’reilly (frank voss)- lucky sevens (song)

drumbot brian (ben below)- lost in the cosmos (song), crew bio

the toy soldier (jessica law)- the story of the toy soldier (fiction)

gunpowder tim (tim ledsam)- gunpowder tim vs the moon kaiser (song/minialbum)

marius von raum (kofi young)- the death of byron von raum summary (blog post)

raphaella la cognizi (r l hughes)- crew bio

if you’ve noticed the crew bio doesn’t say much about raphaella, that’s because we know little to nothing about her backstory. the only thing we have to go on is a quote from the tv tropes page, which looking at the edit history, was likely written by one of the mechanisms. the quote is ‘Science officer who may or may not have cheated her way onto the ship after becoming a little too interested.‘ and the page is here.

the majority of fandom content is about the crew, working off of what we get from the tales to be told songs, the live gigs, and the fiction.

dr carmilla

speaking of characters with obscure lore, let’s talk about dr carmilla! rather than linger, i’ll just link my carmilla basics post, which is a comprehensive summary of who she is in and out of universe. to summarize, she’s a character based on the novella ‘carmilla’ by sheridan le fanu, commonly regarded as the first vampire novel, but her lore has diverged heavily from that original starting point since then. she is the oldest out of all of the crew, and made the majority of the other crew members immortal. she, as well as aurora, is from a planet called terra, which was destroyed partially as a result of her actions. her character is defined by her immortality and how she deals with it, her experiences on terra, her relationship with the mechanisms, and her dysfunctional relationship with her ex-girlfriend loreli, the last of which is the most covered by her songs. out of universe, she is played by maki yamazaki. all her lore lines up with what happened out of universe, and ties to the fact the mechanisms were originally dr carmilla and the mechanisms. she has two solo albums and two singles, which i’ll link below.

ageha (prototype edition) (album)- bandcamp | youtube

exhumed and {un}plugged (album)- bandcamp | youtube

the city {nex:type mix} (single, in-character cover)- bandcamp | youtube

eleven (single)- bandcamp | youtube

the majority of her lore is still to be officially revealed, and will be in the trilogy of albums maki yamazaki is working on.

further reading

if you’d like to delve further into the lore, there are a few sources i use! there are official, in-character, blogs, as well as things that are harder to dredge up; i won’t link them here, but some sources include @/thedreadvampy (the band’s artist, as well as morgan wilkinson’s sister and kofi young’s partner; don’t bother her for lore or anything, but she’s previously made posts sharing previously unknown information), old websites and deleted content found on the wayback machine, the tv tropes pages, and most notably the lore doc.

the ‘maki forbidden lore doc’ is an archive of all the lore maki yamazaki has shared on the mechscord, the official mechanisms discord which she’s on, and her own personal server, where she’s running an arg (alternate reality game) as a way of relaying more lore about the dr carmilla universe. for an idea of the scale, the doc is currently 91 pages and 28346 words, and recontextualizes much of what is known about dr carmilla and maki’s canon of the mechanisms universe. it is confidential to anyone not in her discord or the mechscord, as she’s said that this lore isn’t thought out nearly as much as the albums and is subject to change, so she’d rather it not be out in the open. however, information on how to join the mechscord can be found here. there is also a non-canonical fan project based on the arg in progress, but information on it is also confidential for now.

with regards to the above phrase ‘maki’s canon’ it’s worth noting that all of the individual band members have their own idea of what counts as canon and what doesn’t, and as you foray deeper into lore that division becomes more and more apparent.

with that, here are the mechanisms’ blogs. they are all both run in-character by the main nine band members and inactive unless i note otherwise.

twitter

tumblr

facebook

website/wordpress (run ic by tereshkova’s ghost, the blogbot, for the most part)

carmilla twitter (active, run ic by dr carmilla)

conclusion

now that we’re coming to the end of this, i’d like to thank whoever got this far, and to say a few words. my interest in the mechanisms has been slowly fading, and i’ve been writing less and less meta and lapsing in keeping up with new lore myself. honestly, i’m pretty worn out by how much i’ve done on this blog and in this fandom, and the commitments i’ve assigned myself. i do have plans for future meta, but it’s unlikely they’ll come to fruition. so, i thought i’d do a new version of my two oldest posts on this blog, and hopefully enable other people to look into the lore and theorize themselves with the new information.

to find more information, remember there’s a mechanisms wiki, and that my askbox is always open.

thanks for reading!

#the mechanisms #the mechs #meta #my posts

[jadechamber]

I finally completed the inazuma quest-line and hmm...mixed feelings. On one hand, I am going insane from all the new crazy information. On the other, the last act felt...rushed? As in, way too much stuff in way too many quests. Apparently a lot of players agree, and were miffed by the handling of the raiden shogun's character development.

And tbh I feel like this is because the devs backed themselves into several walls while making this game. I would not say it's their faults though, it was things that probably really just happened on accident and because of the wants of the playerbase. Like genshin is a very ambitious and almost experimental project, of course there's going to be ups and downs. I also don't think you can apply the same criticisms of a book or movie to a video game. Video games are a VERY unique storytelling format, and you also can't critique a movie the exact same way you'd do a book. However, I think the main problem is that upon the release of genshin, they promised[?] a new update every 6 weeks or something along those lines, and as a result the finishing product is...sometimes rushed and the workers are overworked. I remember a lot of people were complaining about lack of new content from 1.2-1.4, and now because of that we get...this. They definitely should have let the inazuma plot-line bake longer, and they really need to forego the "three act" system lest other regions turn victim of the same issue.

One of the other walls mihoyo got backed into was when they decided that every nation would be so heavily inspired by a real-life nation. I think inspiration from real cultures is fine, but it needs to be in moderation imo and handled VERY delicately and with knowledge about xenophobia, orientalism, etc. Regarding the raiden shogun, they probably did not make her a full on redemptionless tyrant because she is basically the ruler of fictional japan. If they hadn't woobified raiden, that would have sent A Message and the japanese playerbase would not have liked it. And even I have to agree that it would have been unfair (just from a character design standpoint in the context of the regions) if zhongli and venti were shown in a a positive light and had a lot of depth to their characters while ei didn't get the same treatment (in fact before she was released it was something I was afraid they would do).

But now since the archons are basically the fictional rulers of real life countries, mihoyo is practically forced to paint all of them in a sympathetic light even if they seem bad at first, and then blame everything on The Big Bad Russian Organization Fatui. Like, we already know the only true villains will be Celestia, we already know the "unknown goddess" who took the traveller's sibling isn't any of the Seven Archons.

Now frankly all of these plot devices aren't actually even bad, but it's wonky because each nation's questline is so independent of the "find your sibling and recover your memories" point of your journey. With Mondstadt you have to defeat Dvalin, with Liyue you have to investigate the death of Rex Lapis, and in Inazuma you have to stop the Vision Hunt Decree. Each nation is really unique with different problems, different lore, and a different archon, yet at the same time they all go back to the fatui, the stealing of a gnosis, and your sibling. And at the end of the day, the archons aren't really THAT different from each other. They're all immortal humans traumatized by Celestia trying to protect their nation. Each nation's main questline is really unique and independent, but at the same time they kinda aren't and they all have to be tied to a greater plotline and that imo is what is stifling creativity/element of surprise.

#raiden shogun #original resin.txt #genshin impact #inazuma

[oops-prow-did-it-again]

I’m back!

So, I kinda quit using this blog a while back. There are some notes about it in my old pinned post and probably on my fanfics, lol, but basically, I felt overwhelmed by fandom and everything going on irl and I crashed. I just withdrew from like, everything. I still logged in on Tumblr but I just liked things to later view them with the boyfriend or laugh at them again myself.

Honestly, it’s not that fun, just doing that, and not really that fair to people who put effort into their posts like art, music, writing, etc., or even just people who are very passionate about a subject and may want it to reach others that are the same. Because I know I’m like that!

But anyway, this is going to be my new pinned post. So! (More under the cut, please keep reading!)

About Me

You can call me Prowess, I’m a FtM transmasc (he/him please)! I use this space to elevate my personal works, such as art or writing, while also occasionally posting about topics I am passionate about. I realized I was trans in 2020 at the age of 19 years old, in the midst of a pandemic and college fallout, so as you can imagine, I’m still riding the rollercoaster of emotions that come with that. I’m also ADHD... so expect some posts about those sort of things.

But that is hardly the focus! I am big on art and writing. While I am mostly obsessed with Pokemon, I am a lover of stories, and so generally, I love most fiction, even the really bad stuff. Along with my Pokemon stuff, you can expect posts involving ARK: Survival Evolved, The Tales of Miraculous Ladybug & Cat Noir, animated movies (Luca, Toy Story, Spirit - you name it, I probably love it), and plenty of other stuff.

While I have too many older posts to go through and try to sort out the unclean tags, going forward, I am going to use these sort of tags: subject (whatever the post is about, for example, Pokemon), characters depicted, media (whether it’s art, writing, animation, or a mix), and any warnings that may need to go with it (for example, cussing when stronger language is involved, or racism if racism is getting discussed, etc). Memes or one-off posts will likely be tagged with simply “memes.” While this is pretty true for most any blog, this is so you know if you need to block certain tags! For example, if you hate Miraculous Ladybug, you’d just blacklist ‘Miraculous.’

I will also reblog a lot of posts asking for help or boosting awareness. I will try not to inundate the blog with these, but as I will likely have to make a post asking for help at some point myself due to unfortunate irl circumstances, I want to pay it forward in advance. These will be tagged with simply “help needed!”

Below are some projects I’m working on + what you can expect from this blog.

Pokemon Retold

By far, my biggest project to date, is Pokemon Retold.

This is an expansive written anthology of all the pokemon mainline games as far as generation 8. Red, Heart of Gold, Omega Ruby, Platinum, Black, Black 2, Y, Ultra Sun, and Sword are all intended to get rewritten and posted on both my FanFiction.Net and Archive of Our Own accounts. I may also post some chapters here, but I admit Tumblr makes that difficult sometimes.

These stories are very personal to me, as I started writing them when I was struggling in college with undiagnosed ADHD, and felt like my life was falling apart and I was alone. I started writing a retelling of Sword, but the more I wrote, the more disappointed in it I felt, so I started writing Black instead and scrapped Sword altogether.

I’ve had some rough road since, but Black is complete, Black 2 is also complete, and Ultra Sun is (mostly) complete (but with plans to be heavily altered), while Red is underway!

WARNING: These stories can get DARK, and I would rather my readers be over 18. They are not dark with the intent to squick out or upset people, however; they are dark with the intention of exploring thoughts and ideas I find too difficult to think about directly. There are more personalized warnings at the beginnings of each story. With that out of the way, please just try and move on if you find yourself disliking a specific story or part of a story of mine... If you want to give constructive criticism, you are more than welcome, but tearing into me and my writing just because you didn’t like something helps nobody. Keep in mind I write these for fun and as a form of self-therapy throughout some of the worst years of my life.

Furthermore, I edit them a lot. And I do mean a lot. My FFN profile acts as a “changelog” for what has changed in the stories over the course of the time they’ve been posted.

Pokemon Retold posts are tagged “Retold.”

My FFN Profile

My AO3 Profile

Pokemon Retold: Black has been added to TVTropes! I honestly don’t even care that this person digs into it a couple of times, I was so incredibly flattered they took the time to do that at all. (But be warned the page does have some spoilers!) I have no idea if you enjoyed the story or not upon reading over that page, kind stranger lol, but I really appreciate that you took the time to do that nonetheless! <3

Creatively Destructive

This incredibly well-titled story is an idea I have for a retelling of Miraculous Ladybug. I know, I know - absolutely never been done before /s

While I know there has got to be a thousand retellings of this show by now, based on just how.... terrible, the writing is, I want to try anyway. Because I genuinely love the premise of the show! I’m just constantly disappointed by how it seems to never go anywhere with its plot or characters.

So, Creatively Destructive will be a fanfic, and when I have more information on it, I’ll post it under the tag “creatively destructive.”

Roleplays

Me and my boyfriend love to RP a lot. From Monster Hunter to Pokemon, we do a lot of different stories. Sometimes, I really get inspired by what we come up together and I want to share it with others! Be it quick art based on a scene from the RP or a quick rundown of what occurred in an RP, you can catch these in the ‘Prow RP’ tags.

Currently, we are having a lot of fun with an RP based on the Hoenn pokemon games that I am sure I’ll be posting about!

I may also be open to RPs with others in the future :> Don’t be offended that I’m not open to them already... I’m just a very easily overstimulated person.

The Ballad of the ARK

ARK: Survival Evolved is a lot of things. It’s an amazing concept, an open-world game where you befriend dinos and fight alongside tribemates against other tribes, or work together to survive the hostile environment. But the true tragedy of this game goes so much deeper than that, and I want to explore that in writing, starting with my story, my experience, and then graduating to where I think the issue primarily stems from. 

This strange memoir will be posted under the tags of “Ballad of ARK.”

Commissions

I hope to take commissions for art and writing in the future!

However, I need to figure out the parameters of what I’m willing to draw (and what I can feasibly draw), as well as what I can promise when it comes to writing, not to mention pricing.

That’s not to say I’m not open to ideas though! Feel free to message me/send me asks anyway and we’ll see if we can work something out. :)

Although I am not in a financial disaster just yet, I feel like I am not far from one. This is why I hope to try to build on commissions in the future. I know they will never support me, but I would still like to try to be useful and helpful to some. I currently live with my grandmother, having left my abusive home with my father, and although she generously allows me to live with her for the low cost of merely helping with some electricity and my own food, I struggle to remain abovewater financially due to difficulty finding work (thanks to issues with ADHD and physical problems following a bout with COVID in early January 2021).

If you would like to help anyway, feel free to subscribe to my Patreon, or make a one-time payment via PayPal. I promise no matter what or how much it is, your generosity is greatly appreciated!! <3

My Patreon

My PayPal

My Ko-fi

(Note that my Patreon is... very outdated and needs to be updated. I will do that soon!)

#new day new me! #undeadprowess #I will be changing my url #pokemon retold #retold #pin #creatively destructive #prow rps #ballad of ark #commissions #sketch #art #rb pls! :) #pokemon #pokemon trainer brendan #brendan #pokemon trainer brix #more info on those last tags soon lol

[cemilexsadik]

𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒌: 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑳𝑺

BUFFY SUMMERS – BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER

Buffy had a tendency to be completely confident about her abilities when she faced her enemies. She was also very stubborn, hard-headed and a natural leader, making her at times overly demanding and bossy. She was extremely determined and fiercely independent by nature, detesting giving up or losing battles of any kind. Buffy's individualistic and rebellious tendencies culminated in developing an extreme distaste of being manipulated. She had a strong sense of responsibility to the people she could save.

MARGAERY TYRELL –  A SONG OF FIRE AND ICE

Margaery's beauty was equaled by her cleverness, which she had in abundance. A true protégée of her grandmother Olenna, she was a gifted manipulator who knew how to maneuver her way in court politics. Margaery's strength was in her ability to win the minds and loyalties of her subjects. She possessed the tact, politeness and - in many respects - political acumen that Cersei lacked. While Cersei was blunt and often rude, Margaery was capable of exuding the courtly behavior and courtesies expected of a queen - while still privately engaging in palace intrigues to increase her family's power. 

BELLAMY BLAKE – THE 100

Bellamy is a natural leader who speaks his mind. He can be aggressive but he also has a softer side and a big heart. He is good at reading people and situations. Bellamy makes decisions based on facts, is quick to recognize inefficiency and is just as great at coming up with organized, long-term plans to correct them. Bellamy Blake fears death, and yet, for some reason, he is one of the people most willing to put his life on the line for just about anyone else. His upbringing has influenced him, during which his entire life revolved around protecting someone else despite the risks to his own safety.

SHIV ROY – SUCCESSION

Poised, intelligent, and strategic. Shiv often comes across as the most relaxed, reasonable member of her family. She’s smart and savvy and has a level of emotional maturity that her brothers lack. Yet, like all the Roy siblings, Shiv has deep insecurities. Though she tries to project a sense of total confidence, she can be tentative for fear of making a mistake. She knows the smartest way to answer a tricky question is often, “We'll make a decision and get back to you shortly.”

EXTRA INSPO X

CLARISSA MAO – THE EXPANSE

Clarissa is intelligent, passionate and steadfast. Having grown up as a member of a powerful but dysfunctional family, Clarissa has been largely shaped by her feelings of inadequacy and jealousy over her father undervaluing her and heavily favoring her sister Julie. This caused Clarissa to spend much of her life desperately trying to be a model daughter and prove her worth to others. Though she has been forced to use violence in certain situations, it is evident that she is doing the best that she can to act with empathy, to avoid unnecessary strife, to find peaceful resolutions to conflicts, and to help as many people as she can.

EXTRA INSPO X

ELIZABETH SWANN – PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN

Elizabeth Swann is portrayed as a spirited and independent-minded character, who often chafes at the restrictions her gender and social rank impose upon her. She is a strong-willed and independent woman and was considered by many to be very beautiful. She is the perfect mix between good manners and scathing sass. She often speaks her mind, even if it means offending others, criticizing even dangerous enemies openly in front of them. She puts up her own fight, is always a step ahead of the men, and genuinely seems to enjoy her place in the adventure.  

EXTRA INSPO X & X

HONORABLE MENTIONS: 

JESSICA PEARSON – SUITS ( X )

LADY MARY CRAWLEY – DOWNTON ABBEY ( X & X )

MAEVE WILEY – SEX EDUCATION ( X )

NANCY WHEELER  – STRANGER THINGS ( X )

#;; task #;; edits #;; musings #;; (( some extra inspo in names :) )) #;; (( there wasnt as much shiv content as i thought thered be. s3 where you at ))

[chemicalpink]

Hiiii! Can you do a reading on Alba Baptista who stars in Warrior Nun if she is gay. Her fans on twitter claim she is gay and they are waiting for her to come out as gay. She has performed as a gay character in Filha di Lei and there are news her character Ava in Warrior Nun season 2 may be gay. I'm so excited for her. She gives off gay vibes so much. Her fans say she has never discussed her dating life and there are always fake rumors of her having boyfriends but she never steps out with one because she will come out as gay. Can you please check her energy? Is she afraid? Most of the people always judge LGBT.

Hi love! I am fully aware that this ask should’ve gone to one of my other blogs but I found it important to clear some stuff regarding it.

I see where you’re coming from and I’m sure it from a place where you mean no harm. I am 100% with you in how some fan spaces, regardless of the fandom and age groups, have targeted the LBTTTQIA+ community and even have gone as far as demonised it.

Note: this comes from my personal spiritual knowledge and 15+ years studying, my academic and career knowledge, and personal opinion.

The thing with celebrities, is that they serve as mainstream media ambassadors, which is specially relevant to talk about when incorporating queer theory and fan behaviour into the mix. The most straightforward answer would be the creation and nurture of safe spaces when us fans start reflecting some of our traits onto these celebrities, all of it due to the fact that the transformative experiences that following a celebrity and projecting of certain traits onto them by the large following is able to build a community that serves as a safe space, mainly online. This is basically called ‘queering mainstream media’. Given how fandoms has a heavily-gendered nature and specially heavily lgbtttqia+ oriented, it is no secret that everything involving fandoms is looked down upon in ‘popular culture’ or by the cis-het community (fandom or not). As Constance Grady writes, “there’s a special ire reserved for the particular corner of the web where people make transformative works about the media they love — and given that this corner is primarily composed of young women (and queer people) it’s hard to avoid the conclusion that this ire is gendered”

By writing and portraying favourite characters and celebrities as queer or any other minority, fans who consume media but fail to see themselves represented within it are able to create the scenarios that they most aspire to relate to. Especially in an environment where LGBTTTQIA+ young people have very differing mental health experiences than their heterosexual counterparts, thus producing media and narratives online that are able to depict complex, realistic LGBTTTQIA+ experiences when talking about celebrities and characters from mainstream media can be a form of encouragement and support for otherwise marginalized groups.

Kellye Ann Guinan has a quite interesting approach in which creating narratives via fan-consuming content has a communal aspect of reiterating similar tropes, much like historical communities repeat stories as part of their communal folklore.

Queer people (and women) use fan-targeted consumption content as a means of showing their struggles and needs via reinterpreting popular media (and thus the celebrities contained within them). In this sense, television shows, movies, comics, video games, artists, celebrities, public figures, etc. all function as a shared symbolic language through which individuals can explore identities closed off to them in real life. Fan-consuming content is the only way in which minorities can give themselves a chance at being portrayed the same way non minorities groups have grown accustomed to. And because it takes the same story cores and reuses them time and again, no matter how ever growing the intricacies of each content type is, it can be seen to follow a process of folklore.

In this way, fan-directed content is culturally subversive, but also connective: it allows individuals to bring out the pieces of themselves they would otherwise hide away/the current world’s dynamics force them to hide away. It challenges cultural norms while evolving creativity, shaping individual expression into collective expression, and forming a subculture of its own.

Now onto the pressing matters of what concerns us regarding tarot and these lgbtttqia+ fan-oriented content.

As I’ve mentioned time and time before, tarot, specifically celebrity tarot, is very heavy on the grey lines of consent and respecting privacy, us readers have to build a certain level of trust for us to not drain ourselves and maintain a certain level of ethics in the game so that we can continue to practice correctly and efficiently.

Evidently, sometimes there’s a lot of deeply personal information that comes out when we read for celebrities, at least in my personal experience it has become quite a regular thing to have celebrities’ energies ‘coming out’ in readings, but just like any other inner paths people may walk on, they do not have a reason for us to read to them (celebrities or otherwise). Queer people’s processes, especially coming out and even more so, celebrities, are quite personal paths that none of us outside of their inner circle have any right whatsoever to acknowledge until and if they decide to do so, celebrities and privacy are already quite a topic, they deserve as much privacy as us the general public can empathise with and grant them.

And I really understand that it isn’t ideal how some queer topics are handled in fandoms and mainstream media, as I’ve stated up above, there are some experiences that aren’t ideal whatsoever and unfortunately we have to watch them unfold. There’s really no need to get digging into things that do not correspond to us in any way. Giving people their own time and space to decide what to share with others is the next best thing we can do in the middle of this already too fucked up world.

So I’m sorry love, I do not read on people’s personal journeys. Be that sexuality or spiritual journeys as I have no right to do so and even less so, the right to put it out there for people’s consumption. I hope you understand.

#marinette answers #well this took a while #im sure there’s a lot more to it

[otome0heart]

[Fanfic] MLQC Secret Santa 2020: The Light at the End of the Tunnel (Victor)

A little late but this is my belated present for @mrs-victor-li for the MLQC Secret Santa ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁) I really hope that you like it.

Also, a big thank you to @ginkgowritings for organising this and being patient with my delay. I really, really appreciated it (灬ºωº灬)♡

Title: The Light at the End of the Tunnel

Genre: Fluff/Romance

Words: 3786

Notes: Even though I tried to merge it in the Dates timeline, in the end the story diverts from the canon, though it’s set after the Rooftop Date (possible spoilers if you haven’t read it). Also, this was partly inspired by the wonderful analysis of Victor’s character “Waiting for your consent” by @sharinluna. I just had time to revise and edit it once so please, forgive any big mistakes that you see and point them to me so I can correct them ^^ Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy it.

.

THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

The curtain closed for the last time that evening and the clapping died little by little in the great hall. The audience started gathering their things and the young woman looked at her companion, her joyful expression turning into a  puzzled one, as he sat down again. Victor returned her gaze with a tiny smile playing on his lips and she did the same, beside him.

“Are we waiting for something?”

He crossed his legs, making himself comfortable.

“The corridors are crowded right now, we’ll take the same amount of time to get out whether we’re there or stay here for a while.”

She hummed, a brief musical sound emerging from her throat, just like the ones she had enjoyed not so long ago, her eyes turning back to the now quiet stage and her feet moving in a spontaneous dance to a melody only she knew. At that moment, Victor would have given anything to know what was on her mind. She seemed to have gone to a world of her own though she was just at an arm’s reach and that unsettled him. He studied her profile in the warm-lit box partly hidden from prying eyes by a dark red curtain that framed her delicate features. They were in an impasse in their relationship which made him unsure of where he stood. He had told her of his feelings for her some weeks before but she had not answered him yet. However, as they had continued seeing each other outside work, he had noticed very little changes in her attitude towards him, mixed signals that sometimes led him to think she felt the same, others that gave away a sense of an inner struggle. And he knew why. The fact that his corporation was the main and only investor on hers made her tiptoe around him, not getting closer but not wanting to offend him either.

He pressed his lips in a thin line. He was not blind to the fact of other men appreciating her as well, she was a fine young lady with plenty of good qualities and the owner of a company; but he was also a mature man who separated work and personal clearly, and if she were in love with someone else, he would retire like the gentleman he considered himself to be. And if she thought that he was so petty as to retire his investment because of that, then, maybe she was truly a silly girl.

He breathed a silent sigh, shooking his head and relaxing his features, as the sounds of conversation in the hall started to fade. Whatever the future held for both of them, he was not going to waste his time dwelling in what-ifs. He would enjoy every single occasion he had to be with her at work or out of it until she made her mind up, starting from the fact that that meaningful evening was his alone.

The hall was almost empty by then, and he looked at his watch.

“Shall we go?”

Deeply lost in her thoughts, she startled a little upon hearing his voice.

“Yes, sorry” she smiled lightly and stood up just after him, grabbing the white coat on the back of her chair.

He extended his hand and she doubted for a few seconds just before giving it to him and turning around. As he helped her, he admired her exposed neck and upper back, normally covered by her hair, this time styled up in a braided low bun where she had held a hairpin with some poinsettia flowers. He could not help a smile. She had gone all out for the festivity and wore a dark green knee-length satin dress with some applique work on the body and sleeves, and red ankle-strapped shoes. She could pass as a very elegant dressed elf. A lovely one, he had to admit.

He put on his black coat too, and together, they left the box seat. There were only a few people in the corridors who had probably had the same idea as Victor. Some of them greeted them, glancing curiously at her as they exchanged a few courtesy words with Victor.

Finally, they exited the theatre, a cold gust of wind greeting them. It had snowed heavily while they had been inside and there was a thin layer of white covering the dark coloured pavement and the road. She let out an excited laugh and bounced on her heels, enjoying the sound of the crushed snow under her feet. He shook his head slightly, an amused smile drawing across his mouth and then, offered her his arm, which he was surprised to see she took without hesitation. Probably, she was more worried about falling down and making a fool of herself than about her confused feelings towards him.

At a leisure pace, they walked down the steps of the building and headed to the parking lot where he had left his car, a few blocks from there. They made their way in silence at the beginning, watching some scattered snowflakes fall from the trees lining the road, profusely decorated. From time to time, Victor stole glances at her, enjoying the Christmas lights reflected in her pupils and the expression of awe in her features, as if she saw them for the first time.

‘Childish’ he thought, aware that precisely that earnestness she possessed was one of the things that attracted him to her deeply.

And then, a soft hum reached his ears. Distracted as she was with the ornamentation, she had unconsciously started to sing disconnected fragments of the melodies she had listened to at the theatre, happy ballet songs about sweets and fairies, and dancing snowflakes and flowers. A pleasant feeling filled him inside and he breathed satisfied, focusing on her lovely voice.

.

No matter how many years she had seen Loveland’s Christmas illumination, it managed to amaze her every single one of them. Beautiful figures, curtains of stars, snowflakes projected on buildings and Christmas trees in the squares, they were all different from the previous ones, bigger and more colourful.

Without barely realising, she had started to hum, the familiar songs that she had heard so many times before that night finding their way from her mind and heart to her throat. Her father had brought her to see The Nutcracker ballet for several years in that same building they had been to that night. When Victor had suggested going to the theatre on Christmas Eve, she had hesitated a bit. Even though they had had lunch and dinner together a few times after his confession, it had never sounded as much as a date as that one, especially given the romantic connotations the day held for most people. It had been when he had told her that he had tickets to attend to The Nutcracker ballet that all her doubts had vanished, replaced by nostalgia and excitement and, as she had watched the dancers on the stage and heard the beautiful, happy melodies of the dances, warm feelings and memories from her childhood had filled her.

The streets were crowded with people of all ages, walking busily from shop to shop in search of a last-minute present or watching the decorations. Here and there, they also passed couples hand in hand, and she wondered if they looked the same to them, holding arms and strolling so close together. She lowered her head a bit, hiding her chin in the fuzzy neck of her coat. Victor declaring his feelings for her so straightforwardly that night a few weeks ago on the roof of LFG had left her confused and unsure. With his fiercely demanding attitude and his mighty position, she had never suspected that he could see her as something more than a “dummy”, a silly girl that stood up to him and that most of the time was never up to his standards at work. In very few moments, he had let her see what was behind his poker face and his tyrannical ways, allowing her to discover a fiercely loyal and protective man with a warm heart who loved his family dearly. And during those glimpses, she had felt closer to him, that the walls between them cracked and collapsed bit by bit, though sometimes, they were rebuilt again in the blink of an eye. She had wondered then if all that was in her imagination and his affection, just a dream. However, his words were deeply engraved in her heart, and his voice, loud and clear like that day, resounded in her mind once again.

I wouldn’t go near another woman. All I want is you…

Heat flushed her cheeks and she side glanced at Victor to see if he had noticed, but he was looking ahead, at the entrance of the car park just a few metres in front of them, across a square, and she breathed, relieved.

He had not mentioned the matter again. Unlike the idea she had of suitors from what she had heard from her friends or watched in films, he had left her space to think, not trying to be a constant presence in her daily life or influence her feelings in any way, not meddling in her bonds with the men who were important to her. His attitude towards her had been the same, overbearing and not giving her a special treatment, and at the same time, considerate and lenient with her whims. True to his word, he was waiting for her to see the light, even at the risk of that never happening.

The atmosphere in the square was very similar to the one in the bustling streets, though the decorations and colours were much subtler, giving the place a cosy, intimate glow, so different from when they had crossed it in the late afternoon on their way to the restaurant where they had a reservation for an early dinner before heading to the theatre, with the hot shades of the sunset reflecting on the glass windows of the nearby buildings, tinting the world as if it was on fire. 

“Everything is so beautiful…” the girl sighed looking at a group of reindeers made with small white lights, except for one which was red. “It’s like stepping into a winter wonderland.”

“Well, I agree that it has its charm and that people feel compelled to spend is a great incentive for business.”

She lifted a brow, regarding him with an incredulous stare.

“I can’t believe you said that… Where’s your Christmas spirit? Don’t you feel anything special seeing so many awesome and creative things made with just garlands and trees and lights, the families walking together and the children so thrilled?”

“Like the one I have beside me?” he replied jokingly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

She pouted despite clearly seeing that he was trying to provoke her, and turned her head away. However, a second later she forgot about it as her eyes fell on the loveliest decorative ensemble she had seen that day.

“VIctor, look!” the young woman exclaimed as she left him with fast steps, walking to a space between two trees where a string of bulbs in the shape of a holly branch hung. On top of it, two robins, also made with fairy lights were perched, looking at each other, one with its wings slightly opened, the other giving it what looked like a sprout of leaves and small white balls.

A young couple a few meters away from her laughed and she turned in time to see them kiss fully on the mouth, making her flush upon realising what that little sprig in the bird’s beak was.

The two teenagers parted from each other and glanced at her, giggling again and walking away. She looked at Victor, panicked but unable to move from her spot, not knowing what to do. He was just a few meters away, watching her with an unreadable expression that stirred an unknown feeling inside her.

Then, suddenly, everything stilled and there was no more sound of chiming bells moved by the cold breeze, no more rumour of excited voices and nervous chuckles. As if he had decided something, he walked to her, slowly, like a majestic lion, but at the same time, she had the impression that he was giving her a chance to escape, that just a step back would stop him completely, as the suspended time. But for some unknown reason, she could not do it. Her heart was beating strongly in her chest, almost deafening her, her breath coming in short puffs of steam between her slightly parted lips. She lifted her gaze as he stopped in front of her. His mauve eyes, always crystal clear, were darkened by the night and the emotion that glimmered deep inside them. But there was more, a flicker of uncertainty that surprised her. She had never had the impression that he could be insecure about something, and yet, there was so much she did not know about him.

And also, there was her. She could see herself reflected in his pupils and she felt that she was the only one that mattered in his world. That thought alone made her feel an inexplicable spark of happiness and warmth spread inside her chest.

He lifted his hand and slipped it gently behind her head cupping the nape of her neck, and his thumb swept over her cheek, feeling the heat of her skin. She was looking at him with her big eyes, shiny under the Christmas lights and confused at his actions. How he longed to cross the distance, physical and emotional, that separated them and feel finally complete, silence the yearn that surged in his heart each time he saw her. But he had promised her to wait, to leave her space so she could see him as the man who desperately loved her instead of just the powerful CEO that held her future and that of those under her in his hands. So, he would have to settle for just a little display of affection, just for the two of them.

He leant forward and, as she lowered her lids not knowing what to expect, he brushed her forehead with his lips tenderly, lingering just enough to breathe in the floral fragrance of her hair and feel the softness of her skin.

He let go just after his kiss, taking a step back, and suddenly, the young woman found herself missing the heat radiating from him, protective and comforting.

“Shall we go?” he asked, bending his elbow for her to slip her hand around again, as the little bulbs clinked together in the breeze and the atmosphere filled with laughter and noise once again.

The girl nodded, not really trusting her voice, and took his arm, both of them walking straight to the parking lot entrance.

Once they paid and found the car, he opened the door for her, waiting until she had taken off her coat and sat down comfortably to close it. Then, he did the same, leaving his garment on the back seat and took his place on the driver’s seat.

She leant her head back on the headrest as he drove carefully along the snow-covered roads, one of her hands folded over the other, where she still could feel his warmth, as if it wanted to keep it as much as possible. Her mind had been wandering to him quite often during those weeks, when she was not working, trying to decipher what she felt for him, but until that moment, she had not got a clear answer. It was difficult for her to separate the authoritative figure he represented from the caring man whom she was so precious for, as she understood that seventeen years ago, she had made a strong impression on him while she had completely forgotten about his existence. However, he was becoming a crucial figure in her life now, someone who pushed her past her limits and encouraged her to do her best; someone who she could count on and spoiled her just enough to make her feel happy again on a bad day. She was not sure if it was the light he was expecting or not, but the only conclusion she had reached was that she wanted to know more about him, to uncover layer after layer of the pragmatic LFG CEO and see the man behind the finance emperor.

Her eyes fell on her hands again, and a light colour appeared on her cheeks. It had also been the first time they had stood so close together since his confession, making her aware of her masculine presence and his status as a possible lover, someone who would have access to her most private thoughts and feelings, who would expect more than a platonic bond. Her face turned scarlet red at the mere idea of Victor and her crossing the invisible line that until that night had been clearly drawn between them. She recalled the warmth of his hand on her skin and the slight shiver that had run down her spine at the brush of his lips, awakening on its course a million of unfamiliar but thrilling sensations and she bit her lower lip. 

“You're normally not so quiet” he said in a soft voice, his eyes on the road, and she turned her head to him, brusquely brought back to reality, which made silence fall between them for a moment. “Did you not like the performance?”

“I loved it!” he side-glanced at her briefly just enough to see if she was feigning her sudden enthusiasm. “Sorry if it seemed the other way…” she doubted briefly and then, she continued, her nervousness at being caught in her recollections set aside. “You know, my father brought me there several times when I was a child and a teen. it was like a Christmas tradition to see The Nutcracker together around this time. Then, I spent the rest of the winter playing the different melodies on the piano. In spring, I put the scores away until the following December, when we started the circle again. Tonight’s ballet has brought me many memories of those times” she looked at her fingers, still laced together. “It’s been long since I played them, I’ve been too busy…”

He kept silent, but she saw that his brows were knitted together in a frown and she knew that he was doubting his choice.

“I’m glad to have reminisced about those moments. It made me appreciate the dancing and the music much more and keep my memories of my father alive” she turned towards him and that grabbed his attention. “Thank you for taking me there, Victor.”

His posture relaxed visibly and the thin line in his forehead disappeared.

“You’re welcome.”

A few minutes later, he parked his car in front of her building. Despite the slight tension still tangible in the cabin, the young woman felt comfortable and wished she could enjoy his company for a while longer. Then, a sudden idea came to her mind.

“Do you want to come up to my place and have some hot chocolate?” she asked on a whim, surprising him.

His slightly widened eyes watched her for a few seconds, his features not revealing any of his thoughts, making her squirm awkwardly and then, shook his head.

“No, thank you. I have a meeting early in the morning.”

She seemed surprised by his rejection but did not feel discouraged and tried again.

“It won’t take long, and it’ll warm you-”

“You don’t need to do this” he interrupted her words, trying to end her struggle and laying his cards on the table.

“What?”

“To feel pressured. I told you I’d be patient so take all the time you need to sort out your feelings about us. The last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable or obliged with me, so I apologise if I overstepped-”

“I know” she replied with a light nod, interrupting him. “You can be imposing and a tyrant but also, respectful and considerate so I know that you’d never force or rush me to do anything I’m not completely sure about” she stared into his eyes with a serious expression which took him slightly aback. “I trust you.”

Those words reached the deepest part of his thundering heart. Never in his life had he felt so relieved and so right, reassured that his actions were correct and that she appreciated them. He had feared so many times that his confession had only made things between them even more difficult but she was too afraid of offending him. And at the same time, he had been worried about interpreting her acceptance of his advances as something more meaningful than it really was. Knowing that she was considering his feelings carefully and maybe taking baby steps towards a relationship between them filled his chest with even more love for her.

“Thank you for this evening, Victor” she smiled unfastening her seatbelt. “It’s been wonderful.”

He nodded, his features softening upon seeing her returning to her normal self.

“Goodnight.”

And then, she leant forward, putting her hand on his arm to bring him to her and kissed his cheek, a silent touch in the darkness of the enclosed space they were in which left him breathless for a second.

“Goodnight” she whispered, her eyes gazing at him briefly before turning and opening the door of the car.

He watched her run towards the entrance of her building, her coat still in her arms and her green skirt fluttering behind her, still puzzled by how fast everything had happened. She reached the gate and just before disappearing, she looked over her shoulder with a small smile playing on her lips and her cheeks flushed. Then, she was gone.

Victor brought his hand to his face and brushed his cheek with his fingertips. He still could feel the warm pressure of her soft lips on his skin and the caress of her breath sweeping his ear, the subtle fragrance of her perfume surrounding him, giving him a glimpse of what it would be like to have her in his arms.

He closed his eyes and swallowed, breathing deeply trying to calm himself down and focus on the road. He started the car and, using his turn signal, joined the traffic on his way home, a soft smile curving his lips as he started to hum under his breath one of The Nutcracker’s melodies.

It seemed that, even though there was still a long way to go, she was starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

THE END

#otome games #mr love queen's choice #mlqc #MLQCSanta20 #mlqc victor #fanfic

[tlbodine]

Literary vs Genre Fiction

The divide between literary and genre fiction is one of those topics that gets endlessly debated in writer circles. You’ll see it making the rounds on social media every time a book gets some buzz for busting out of its category. You’ll hear it in MFA programs across the country. But what even is literary fiction? How is it actually different from genre fiction? Is one better than the other? Why does anybody care?

A lot of smart people before me have thrown their hat in this particular ring, but I’m going to try tackling this one anyway. 

First Off: What Do We Mean When We Say “Literary Fiction”? 

Defining the thing is almost the hardest part of this whole discussion, and that may be part of the reason why people argue so endlessly about the literary vs genre divide -- if you don’t have a clear definition of the categories, that divide can be drawn up just about anywhere. 

So before we dig into characteristics of literary fiction, let’s look at some clear examples. The Booker Prize is a literary award specifically given to works of literary fiction, so it stands to reason that winners of that award would be the best examples of the category, right? Here are some recent Booker Prize winners (as pulled from Powell’s bookstore): 

Margaret Atwood - The Testaments The sequel to A Handmaid's Tale, told as testaments from three female narrators in Gilead, a dystopian setting where women have been stripped of their rights.

Bernardine Evaristo - Girl, Woman, Other Twelve central characters, mostly black British women, lead intersecting lives with struggles of identity, race, sexuality, class, etc.

Anna Burns - Milkman A girl identified as "middle sister" catches the unwanted attention of "the milkman," a local paramilitary, and has to deal with the threat of violence and spread of rumors.

George Saunders - Lincoln in the Bardo A father-and-son story about Abraham Lincoln and the 11-year-old son who died of illness in the midst of the civil war, leading to them both struggling in a type of purgatory.

Paul Beatty - The Sellout A satire about an isolated young man who ends up at a Supreme Court race trial after trying to reinstate slavery and segregate the local high school in an attempt to put his town back on the map.

One thing becomes immediately clear about literary fiction when skimming through the titles and summaries of these award-winning books: These novels are well-nigh impossible to summarize in a way that actually sounds enticing. 

So okay. What are some genre fiction books, for comparison? There are genre fiction awards, like for example the Hugo award for Sci-Fi/Fantasy: 

Mary Robinette Kowal - The Calculating Stars A cataclysmic meteor collision in 1952 causes an accelerated effort to colonize space, leading to a woman fighting to join the astronaut team in this alternate-history book.

N. K. Jemisin - The Stone Sky The third in a trilogy of post-apocalyptic novels about two women with the power to avert destruction of mankind.

Cixin Liu - The Three-Body Problem Against the backdrop of China's Cultural Revolution, a secret military project makes contact with aliens whose civilization is on the brink of destruction, leading them to plan a takeover of earth.

There’s also the Edgar Award, which is given to mystery fiction (it’s named after Edgar Allan Poe): 

James A McLaughlin - Bearskin A man on the run takes a job as a park ranger, but runs the risk of being found by the men he's hiding from when he tries to expose some poachers.

Walter Mosley - Down the River Unto the Sea After spending a decade in prison for a crime he was framed for, former-detective King works as a private investigator whose investigation of his own frame-up leads him to cross paths of a journalist with a similar story.

Sujata Massey - Widows of Malabar Hill In 1920s India, Bombay's only female lawyer investigates a suspicious will on behalf of three Muslim widows, a case that takes a murderous turn.

These aren’t the best summaries in the world, but there does seem to be a stronger sense of both plot and character in the story concepts. At least, when someone asks, “What’s that book you’re reading about?” the genre fiction ones will have a somewhat easier time explaining it. 

So What REALLY Separates Literary From Genre Fiction? 

There are a lot of battle lines drawn between genre and literary fiction. I’ve heard it argued that literary is about character while genre is about plot; that literary is about the quality of the prose while genre is about the story; that literary is about experimenting while genre is about adhering to formulas. That literary is about expanding horizons while genre is about escapism and comfort. That literary is about realism and genre fiction is about fabulism. 

I think there’s a nugget of truth in all of these, but I’m not really happy with any of them. 

So I’m going to toss out my own hypothesis: I think the difference between literary and genre fiction is the way tropes are employed. 

“Okay, great, but what are tropes?” 

I’m so glad you asked. Fiction tropes are a type of shorthand. They are things that we the audience have seen before, so we know immediately what they mean. Tropes exist in characters, plot points, settings, concepts -- you name it. Here’s a sampling of tropes you might be familiar with: 

The tough lady-cop whose dad was a police officer 

Thanks to a mix-up, two people with hidden romantic feelings book the last available room at a hotel but there’s only one bed 

A man goes on a quest for vengeance but destroys himself in the process

The wise old man who teaches the young hero valuable lessons but then dies before the pivotal battle

And so on, and so forth. Every genre has its own tropes -- a formula, if you will. In that sense, genre fiction is formulaic, but that doesn’t make it easier to write; actually, a big part of the challenge is in giving fresh twists to familiar tropes. Readers of genre stories demand certain tropes; the author has to deliver on those demands in a fresh way.

By comparison, I would argue that literary fiction does not rely upon tropes. There certainly are tropes and conventions that emerge in literary fiction -- a middle-aged academic struggling through divorce, for example -- but these tropes are more often than not met with irritation, not delight. Readers of literary fiction are looking for fresh insights and innovations, not familiarity. 

Tropes are powerful tools. They are the mythic seed of storytelling. They are the archetypes that pass down through generations. They are a sacred backbone of mythology and folklore. Genre fiction, at the end of the day, carries the torch for storytelling in a long and (ha, ha) storied tradition from our prehistoric days huddled around a campfire. 

Literary fiction, on the other hand, eschews tropes -- with their agreed-upon meanings -- in favor of assigning fresh meanings to things. Literary fiction is chock full of metaphors, but it’s the author, not convention, that determines what those metaphors mean and how they’re employed. Literary fiction reinvents the wheel. When it succeeds, it hits on depth and emotional resonance that can be life-changing for the reader. When it fails, it comes off like so much navel-gazing nonsense. So it goes. 

Fiction Wars and Gatekeeping

The problem with the literary vs genre fiction divide is that it never stops with “This is how these categories are defined.” The problem is that people will insist on ascribing moral significance and hierarchy to them. 

Literary fiction is viewed as being smarter, deeper, more meaningful or more valuable than genre fiction. If a genre fiction story manages to break out and gain wider appeal, suddenly people will start ascribing to it literary attributes (whether or not the book and many others in the genre had them all along). And that is all a bunch of nonsense. 

It’s the exact same thing that happens in horror fiction -- when a horror story goes mainstream, suddenly it becomes a “psychological thriller” or a “dark drama” or anything other than horror, because “horror” is an inferior genre. 

The fact of the matter is that literary fiction gets elevated over genre fiction for systemic reasons: 

Most MFA programs focus on writing literary fiction, which means that a lot of lit-fic authors come out of those programs, which means that literary fiction is often the domain of upper-middle-class, frequently white, people who can afford to graduate from those programs

A focus on dense prose and “difficult” writing means lit-fic books must be analyzed and interpreted; it’s hard to read, making it exclusionist to people who lack formal education 

Lit-fic dominates awards, gets pushed heavily onto book clubs, is talked about more often on daytime TV and so forth (because it is perceived as being better/more important, thus creating the ongoing cycle)

Basically, lit-fic gets held up as an example of Fine Culture. And any time something is designated as Fine Culture and High Art, it is subject to a completely arbitrary classist distinction meant primarily to keep out an undesirable element (women, BIPOC, poor people, you name it). 

That’s not a problem endemic to lit-fic itself. It’s really a problem of the culture surrounding it, and attempts to hold it to a higher esteem than genre work. 

Cross-Pollination Is Inevitable and Desirable 

How do tropes get made? 

Someone comes up with a new metaphor, concept, character, or idea that resonates so deeply that others who follow borrow that same thing and its meaning, and it gets repeated enough times that it becomes a stock trope. 

In other words, every single piece of genre fiction exists because someone writing in some other established tradition decided to experiment and go off on a tangent to create something really fresh and new -- and knocked it so far out of the park that people were compelled to follow. 

People like to pretend that the overlap and blurred lines between genre and literary fiction are somehow a new trend, but the fact is that this has been the trajectory of fiction-writing for the whole history of storytelling. 

Literary agents have a term for this: Upmarket fiction. Books that “transcend” genre definitions to appeal to readers on either side of the aisle. And those are highly sought-after books, because they have the potential of bringing in double the readers. 

So, snobby gatekeeping aside, is there any real reason to argue about the definition of literary vs genre fiction? 

I’d say...no. Not even a little bit. I’ve got a mix of both on my shelves. I incorporate a mix of both in my writing. And I don’t see that changing any time soon. 

A Final Note 

I mentioned above that lit-fic tends to be written by people in MFA programs, and I wanted to touch on that again as an MFA drop-out and someone who was once warned by a teacher not to bring “any more of that genre nonsense” into the classroom. 

I can understand, from a teaching perspective, why writer’s workshops would want to focus on lit-fic. From the perspective of learning how to write, forcing writers to derive stories from their experiences, to dig deep into themselves and ascribe unique meaning to things, to develop their own metaphors and hone their craft at the sentence level -- all of that makes a lot of sense. Banning genre tropes is a way to force writers to hone their craft without leaning on the work of generations of storytellers before them, and as a teaching tool I think that’s actually really valuable. 

But I think it’s pretty important that we keep that in context. The lit-fic focus in writing classes should be a teaching tool first and foremost. It should not be the end-all and be-all of writing classes.

This post topic was voted on by my Patreon subscribers. If you would like to vote for future posts and get early access to posts before they go live on tumblr, you can become a patron here: https://www.patreon.com/tlbodine

#writing #literary fiction #genre fiction #on writing #long post

[slade-neko]

Attack on Toys game is A LOT of FUN!

A Mini-Review for a VERY fun Indie game by N7T-GAMES.

Somehow I stumbled upon this game the other day on Steam and decided to check it out. I was immediately intrigued seeing as it was heavily inspired by the old school Army Men games developed by 3DO, which were huge games of my childhood. Since 3DO went bankrupt a long time ago it has left a large void in me longing for more plastic army men games and I've gotta say this game does a dang good job filling that void. From what I know Attack on Toys is developed by a single person that started as a school project in 2018 with years of work turning it into an Early Access Indie game.

The game is 100% FREE on the creator's page at itch.io. The Steam version is $6.99 and considered a donation to show support. Both versions are the same game! Below are links to Steam and Itch.io.

[ITCH.IO page] [Steam page]

Full Review and Thoughts below...

Gameplay

Gameplay-wise its a mix of Sarge's Heroes and Army Men RTS. This is actually a dream game genre of mine, a mix of shooter AND strategy. Commanding units and building bases in an RTS style while also getting into the midst of the action yourself and leading the charge. The shooter aspect is relatively simple as you take direct control your own plastic soldier. Through playing you can earn Plastic as a reward used to customize weapon loadouts, abilities, hats, and you can even create your own squad of NPCs to take into battle. You can unlock new units as squad members through Medals. Medals are hidden in maps as collectibles and others are earned through completing map objectives. Then there is the whole RTS system of the game where you can build your own bases, create units varying from soldiers, stationary installments such as turrets and mortars, vehicles, tanks, helicopters, and even airplanes. Best part is you can manually enter and take control of ALL the vehicles and base installments. Making units and buildings all require one resource, Plastic. You can get plastic through plastic factories or off dead units. In-game plastic is different from "reward plastic" which is granted at the end of a battle and used to upgrade your character. The game is predominately 3rd person, but there is a 1st person aiming mode. You can access a map screen at any time during a battle to view the battlefield and issue commands to your units. Not a lot to tweak when it comes to graphics, but the game does run on Unity engine and gotta say it looks pretty darn nice at times and majority of the time it runs very smoothly (sometimes gets slow when you got a lot of units and chaotic stuff happening, but not often.)

Game Modes

There are a few game modes to choose from when playing. Before you begin there is a simple Training Boot Camp to get you setup and familiar with how the game works.

First mode is Skirmish; your standard battle royale. Number of players is dependent on the maps such as a 1 vs 1 and a couple of 4 person free-for-alls. Simple goal, destroy the enemy's HQ to win.

Second mode is Invasion (one of my favorites); the typical horde/ survival mode. You build a base, setup defenses, see how many waves you can survive against the enemy army. An alternate version is Terror Invasion where you fight zombies and bugs instead of the standard plastic armies.

Third game mode is Conquest! All plastic colored nations duke it out in an 8 person battle royale. The more territory you control, more kills you get, more plastic you get, all helps in earning points. I believe first to a certain amount of points wins. Only two maps, but one in particular is huge, basically an entire house to explore. Fun game mode, but can be very long. Also worth noting, you can save during any game mode and return to it later, but reloading saves won't grant Reward Plastic for buying upgrades for your profile (a little unfair for the longer gamemodes, but I assume its in place to not exploit reward plastic.)

Map Editor/ Toy-Box Mode

Another thing this game features is a built in map editor aptly called "Toy-Box" mode! The map editor lets you create your own custom maps and the possibilities feel limitless. You can create full custom rooms, outdoor spaces, anything really with hundreds of items that you can place to create fully unique experiences for your map. Kitchens, bathrooms, bedrooms, living rooms, yards, diorama setups, you name it you can make it. You can design around any game mode you want, Skirmish, Invasion, or even Conquest. There's so much you can do with this editor. And if you aren't the creating type you can easily download people's creations on the Steam Workshop or Mod DB page to play in your own game.

Multiplayer

Multiplayer, which is by far my favorite thing to do in this game, but sadly it needs some work. Multiplayer mode has its own supported game modes like co-op Invasion/ Terror Invasion, PVP Skirmish, and even a co-op Boot Camp. The creator did note that Multiplayer is something they're not currently working on. While the current state is playable, it is LAN only. Online play is not supported and can only be done with 3rd party tools like Hamachi. Personally I have only played LAN, so I cannot vouch for Hamachi, I only theorize it could potentially work. In my experiences when playing Invasion Multiplayer sometimes battles can get pretty hectic with a lot of units on screen and that can cause network lag and disconnects to the guests. Host is typically fine, so the guest can just rejoin. Only when rejoining the guests play data for that session is reset, so you lose all current resources. Not a huge deal, but can be a drag to lose a lot of plastic I've been saving up through waves. I find it better to keep my resources spent rather than horde it in case of disconnects. Another interesting thing I've discovered, while not officially supported, every game mode you play solo is technically a LAN game. I found out when I saw my brother's Conquest game show up when I searched LAN games. You can join a friend on Conquest mode or any single-player game mode, but be aware of glitches when doing so and only the host will get rewards and the guest will get nothing. Probably since those are made as single-player game modes. Also ToyBox maps do not work in Multiplayer either, I tried, but the custom map data won't load for the guest regardless if they have the same map downloaded.

Final Thoughts

While it does have some "early access" quirkiness to it here and there and I will say it has some balancing issues for gameplay (Skirmish matches can go on forever), its definitely worth checking out if you were ever a fan of 3DO Army Men games. From playing the game I can easily tell a lot of work and love was put into this game. As a big 3DO Army Men fan myself I can safely say this game checks so many boxes on my list of things I liked about the 3DO games. It's one of those situations where you can tell it's a game "made BY fans, FOR fans" and I love that!

Out of everything this game offers, my favorite by far is playing Invasion over LAN with my brother. There's a lot of fun to be had building bases and fortifying defenses against wave after wave of enemies.

#Attack on Toys #Indie game

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Halloween 2021 - Day 5 - The Invisible Ray (1936)

Doesn’t that just sound like a bad magician? “Ladies and gentlemen, introducing...The Invisible Ray!”

Ah, this takes me back. Back in year 0 of this horror marathon business, before this blog was a thing, it was kinda heavily skewed towards the ‘classic’ period; Dracula, Frankenstein, The Mummy..all that Universal 1930’s type stuff. Amongst that first run were a pair of films starring both KARLOFF and Bela Lugosi;  The Black Cat and The Raven. I remember them both being quite good, both having this sort of rivalry between their two characters. The Black Cat moreso with a young couple caught in the middle of a heated feud between KARLOFF and Lugosi’s characters. Whereas The Raven has KARLOFF as more of a de-facto good guy as he plays a reluctant henchman to Lugosi’s character. Not that that level of power translated off screen, with Lugosi’s star beginning to fade but I remember reading something about KARLOFF insisting on some parity in pay between the two in one of their movies when the studio tried to lowball Lugosi so good on you, KARLOFF.

Neither have much to do with the Edgar Allan Poe stories they take their names from, outside of Lugosi’s character in The Raven having an obsession with Poe and adapting various means of torture from Poe stories. There have been plenty of Poe adaptations throughout the years but the other big uptick in them was in the 1960’s with a series of films directed by Roger Corman, often starring Vincent Price but with other big names sprinkled in like KARLOFF, Peter Lorre and Lon Chaney Jr. Plus a relatively early Jack Nicholson appearance in The Raven, which was shot at the same time as The Terror. That bloody bird!

So, yeah, it’s good to see one of these KARLOFF/Lugosi films again. Apparently there are eight films that featured both of them so I’ll be halfway there now on them. This also has Carl Laemmle Jr’s name attached, albeit in a minor way as he’s listed as ‘presenting’ the movie. I’m not sure if that ever means anything. It’s like when Tarantino ‘presents’ something, did he have any actual input on the film or was he just shining a light on something he personally liked because he has so much power and influence?

The movie’s foreword is an early indicator of the more science-fiction leaning nature of the movie which catches you off guard a little with the people involved and the timeframe we’re working in. Feels like the 50’s was more when the whole sci-fi thing took off. Also, since when was science a verb?

Certainly has the feel of that classic ‘old, dark house’ horror thing early on as we start with the Rukh household awaiting the arrival of some of Dr Janos Rukh’s (KARLOFF) peers who are to bear witness to his new discovery.

KARLOFF has clearly been eating his crusts to get curls like that, normally he’s a slicked back kind of guy. And it’s kinda weird seeing both of them with facial hair. Oddly though this is one of the rare times that Lugosi plays a good guy, this is a clear violation of the parallel universe protocol:

Normal universe – clean shaven – good guy Parallel universe – goatee – evil

This early version of Dr. Doom is a bit naff. Are you making a great scientific discovery here or doing a spot of welding?

Apparently Dr Rukh’s invention is a telescope that is able to see into the deepest reaches of space, but can also pick up on vibrations left by the events that have taken place and he can then project that as a moving image that shows an asteroid crashing to Earth millions of years ago that can help him pinpoint the crash site and allow him to discover new elements inside the asteroid...wait, what?! Is this like that time on CSI when they solved a murder by getting sound out of something someone made in pottery class because the grooves could be played like a vinyl?

We then pivot sharply into the great plains of Africa where our team have set off in search of what will become known as ‘Radium X’. Oh yes, I think that’s on the periodic table next to Hardtoobtainium. And I’m specifically trying to avoid animal cruelty by not watching Cannibal Holocaust, don’t come around here with your dead leopards and talk of how many rhinos you’ve shot. I must say I’m a little wary of this sudden introduction of all these natives carrying spears and wearing bone necklaces, I just don’t feel like I can trust a movie made in the 1930’s to be sensitive on it’s portrayal of other cultures.

Thought it does present us with the best actor in this picture, look at those bug eyes! He’s like Africa’s answer to Marty Feldman.

And that’s just his reaction to a piece of scanning equipment going off, him and his mates are definitely going to be worried when this white devil makes a demonstration of his new found Radium X and it’s ability to melt pure stone. Looks like a portajohn backing up...

He then promptly turns his cosmic ray gun on all the locals when they tell him they want to go home. Sure, you can leave, you’re not going to get very far though. Dude, there’s like 12 of you and he’s given some of you rifles. Just jump him when he’s asleep.

Dr. Rukh finds that evening that he’s suddenly turned an interesting shade of neon yellow and can be seen by anyone in a three mile radius so either this Radium X is highly poisonous or Rukh has been running in opposition to Vladimir Putin. This poisoning leaves him so irradiated that merely touching another living thing is enough to kill it. Dr. Benet (Lugosi) is able to make a serum for him but can never truly cure him, he must regularly take this serum or otherwise he will revert to this killing machine type state.

But, in his eagerness to not spread this poison to his wife, and his general upholding of the man code to never air ones medical problems, he generally acts a bit surly and tells her to piss off which see views as him not loving her anymore so he promptly shacks up with the young explorer type who came with them to Africa. Worse yet, Benet and crew have taken a sample of Radium X to show at a scientific conference in Paris. Between losing his missus and thinking that other people are taking all the credit for his work, Rukh is just slightly annoyed.

It’s not all bad though, he is able to use this new element to cure his mother’s blindness. I like how his first reaction upon learning that Radium X has irrecoverably changed his life, leaving him one missed injection away from imminent death, is to shoot it directly into his mother’s face.

“Patients won’t like being shot in the face.” “They’ll like what I tell them to like.”

Whilst sulking outside of the church that his ex is getting re-married in, he spots a series of statues of saintly figures and imagines them representing each of the 6 people on the African expedition, vowing to destroy each of them until only he is left. Marvelous invention this Radium X, it can melt statues and cure blindness. Do you have to put special filters on that ray gun of yours depending on the situation? That’s a malpractice suit waiting to happen if you mix those up.

Dr. Benet is a little suspicious when one of their party dies suddenly for no explainable reason so takes a few ultraviolet photos of the victims eyes in order to study. And wouldn’t you know what he finds?

Bullshit! Nevermind the ultraviolet camera, this is more like the dues ex machine camera. I know this is science fiction and all but what is this, 1936 or 2036? Or maybe they’re just able to make the most detailed contact lenses known to man.

Eventually, when Rukh finds himself unable bring himself to kill his former love, he is confronted by his mother who smashes the serum and condemns him to death as, going unchecked, the Radium X within him will destroy his body. Sensing the end coming, Dr. Rukh dives out of the nearest window and promptly erupts bursts into flames, now left as little but a pile of ash on a damp Paris street. It’s a shame really, dozens of people spontaneously combust every year, it’s just not widely reported.”

This one was okay, definitely a different vibe compared to other Universal stuff at the time with all the science fiction and Africa based stuff but it does still travel down that ‘descent into madness’ thing that they often fall back on and it’s always fun to see KARLOFF and Lugosi, especially when they’re together. But, if we’re strictly talking about the KARLOFF/Lugosi pairing, I’m definitely leaning towards one of their other outings like Black Cat, Raven or Son of Frankenstein. There’s just something not right about Lugosi playing some normal, if he’s not being unhinged then you’re not really getting what you came here for.

#Halloween 2021 #The invisible Ray #KARLOFF #Bela Lugosi