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spacedace · 26 days

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Still thinking about the Social Worker Jazz concept that @gilbirda posted about and it's slowly turning into a full Anger Management fic send help

Jason at length - much longer than it really should have taken really - set the resume down.

The new Social Worker’s resume. Because she was there, in his office, trying to convince him to hire her as a member of his criminal organization.

Crime Alley’s new social worker. A bright eyed Midwestern transplant from some tiny speck of a place that only qualified as a city because there was nothing bigger in a hundred miles in any direction to claim otherwise. The new social worker who had a Psy D. and three masters degrees and who had graduated Valedictorian. The one that had high paying private gigs lined up all over the country with the offering companies fighting over her.

The one who had, apparently, decided to take a shit job in Gotham’s shoddy social services department instead. The one that got kicked to Crime Alley - which was its own division despite technically being a small neighborhood in the grand scheme of things - within her first month. Supposedly for the sole purpose of scaring her off or getting her killed for all the questions she was asking and secret dealings she was sticking her nose into.

That social worker.

“I’m gonna need you to run this by me again.” Jason said, never so grateful for the voice modulator in his helmet as he was in that moment. It stripped out the bewilderment that had bled through into his words and made him sound stoic instead.

“I’d like to work for you.” The social worker - one Dr. Jasmine Nightingale - repeated primly. Back straight, clothes neat - if skewing more on the librarian side of professional - expression confident and hopeful. Completely and utterly oblivious of how fucking insane she sounded. “I was told that you’re the person in charge of Crime Alley.”

He resisted the urge to scrub at his face. It’d just look weird with his helmet on and not do anything to actually settle him in that moment anyway. “I understood that part.”

“Look, Doc,” She earned a doctorate and she was crazy enough to waltz into the office of one of Gotham’s most powerful Crime Lords, he’d be respectful about using her proper title at least, even if he suspected she was ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag. “You’re going to have to tell me why. I was under the impression the only reason you ended up dumped on our end of the city ws because you wouldn’t play ball. But now you want to sign up for my crew?”

Nightingale frowned a little at that.

“Is that what people are saying?”

“What else are they gonna say?” Jason answered, leaning back in his seat, “Head of the department only dumps Crime Alley on folks he don’t like. And everyone knows he doesn’t like anyone that can’t or won’t play his game by his rules.”

“Alright, well. I’ll give you that.” Nightingale conceded, “Payne doesn’t like me. The feeling’s mutual. But for the record,” She added giving him a wry smile, as if sharing wry smiles with Red Hood was just something people did, “I asked to be assigned to the Park Row and Bowery neighborhoods.”

“You wanted to work here.”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

Nightingale laughed. It was a bright sound. Not especially clear or pretty, but warm and welcoming in a way that carefully calculated giggles or overdone guffaws couldn’t be. Something with real and honest amusement in it, that encouraged those nearby to laugh along. Not the kind of involuntary, nervous chuckling people tended to slip into when they thought they had pissed someone that scared them off.

She just wasn’t intimidated by him at all, was she?

Behind his helmet, Jason found himself smiling. Just a bit.

“I’m serious.” She assured, blue-green eyes meeting the dark stare of his helmet without a moment of hesitation. He watched as she brushed a lock of her bright red hair behind her ear and out of the way. She’d woven it all into a practical, neat braid but a few sly pieces had snuck out to bounce around her. Gilding her quiet professionalism with a playful charm that worked well with her academia but make it cottagecore kindergarten teacher aesthetic.

“I’ll admit, Gotham wasn’t part of my plan when I first graduated. Time and choices take you funny places sometimes.” She plucked an invisible bit of lint off her soft blue cardigan, not nervous but absent as her gaze went distant for a moment. Thinking back on the events that had led her to his fine city. In a blink, those sharp eyes were back to focusing entirely on him. “But Gotham is where I am now, and I want to help.”

She looked at him, a serious, determined expression settling easily on her face. “The city as a whole has so much chaos and crime breaking out all the time.” No censure or horror in her voice, just a neutral fact to be observed. “But where the rest of the city has millions of dollars poured into it by various foundations or charities run by the Waynes, Park Row is largely ignored.”

Jason watched as steeliness sharpened her gaze, the blue-green shifting from the shine of a bird’s wing to the warning hue of something poisonous and deadly. “No one deserves that. No one.” Her chin tilted up, proud but not imperious. “So yes, I want to work here. There are people in Park Row and the Bowery who need help and I refuse to let any of them feel like they are going to be ignored.”

Jason considered her.

Really looked at her. Pealing back his initial off handed impression of her as some clueless transplant in over her head with no idea of what she was doing or what she was poking her nose into to find the real woman beneath. Her confident poise, her clear unshakable belief, her unflinching willingness to look danger in the eye and not blink. The tense curve of her frown, the lines of pain at the corners of her eyes, the simmering anger beneath it all. There was an edge to her, too. Something sharp and dangerously well hidden by the cardigan and folksy charm of her accent.

It was personal for the woman before him, Jason realized. Maybe not Crime Alley specifically, but something about the whole situation. The treatment the neighborhood and its residents received from the city at large, from those even beyond it.

Crime Alley wasn’t a place that received much in the way of charitable thought. The average joe with their house in Somerset and job at some corporate shithole hating every second of their life but thinking at least I don’t live in Crime Alley. Those asshole hoity-toites in city hall throwing money around equally between shit that’d get them re-elected and their off-shore slush funds in the Caymens doing their damn level best to pretend the black mark on the other end of the city just didn’t exist. Bruce, flooding the entire city with charitable programs and carefully constructed infrastructures shying away from the manifested grief and trauma that was the place he watched his parents get murdered.

For the most part no one from outside of the Alley gave a shit about the Alley other than as a place to avoid at all costs. And most of the time those natives that manages to claw their way out into better and brighter lives didn’t ever turn to glance back. Orpheus could have learned a thing or to from an ex-Alley Kid who managed to eek out a steady 9-to-5 and move to Burnley.

And something about that seemed to piss Dr. Jasmine Nightingale Psy. D right the fuck off.

He could see why Bill said he liked her enough to let her in.

“Alright.” He said, tilting his head, watching the woman seated across from him carefully, “Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Why you’re trying to get on my payroll.”

“I’m not trying to get on your payroll.” She said, some of the glinting edge softening, but the steel remaining. Strong and unyielding. “I’m trying to get into your community outreach program.”

Jason thanked god and all the saints once again for the gift of his helmet. That baby had saved his ass more times than he could count both by keeping his head in one piece and keeping his stupefied expressions wrapped up and hidden from view. Dr. Nightingale was one hell of a woman to make him have to rely on that fact twice in one conversation.

“Wasn’t aware that was something I had.”

Nightingale, not fortunate enough to have a full face covering helmet of her own, had nothing to hide her stupefied expression behind. Jason had a feeling she might have removed it to make sure he saw even if she did though. She looked like she had caught him eating glue like it was a cheese stick.

“Yes you do.” She said, sounding deeply confused but unshakable confident in what she was saying. “I’ve seen it. The soup kitchens, the shelters, the collection boxes for donating old clothes, the after school day care.” Nightingale ticked off on her fingers, “I’ve lived here for less than two weeks and I’ve lost count of all the things I’ve seen setup to help people struggling in the area that I’ve been very reliably informed you and your organization are behind.”

Oh.

Those.

“Those aren’t part of some community outreach program.” He said, “We are simply locals offering services for our neighbors.”

He watched as her caught-him-eating-glue expression shifted into one that said she’d stumbled upon him licking electrical sockets for a mid-day pick-me-up instead. He had to give it to her, the woman was not afraid to let one of the most dangerous men in the city know she thought he was a fucking idiot.

“Let me see if I understand this right.” She said, and he appreciated that there wasn’t any kind of condescension in her voice, even though she very clearly thought he’d been dropped on his head as a baby. Possibly from the top of a three story building. “You have a large group of people working together to plan, organize and execute multiple services in your area - your community, if you will - that provide aid and support to those that otherwise would not receive it. Reaching out with your available time and resources to offer these services, that you provide. For free.”

Alright, Jason got it. He had stumbled ass backwards into creating a community outreach program. But he wasn’t just going to let her think she won this one. He was Red Hood, he had a reputation to uphold here.

“What makes you think any of that is free?” He tilted his head at just the right angle, the one that cast shadows across the planes of his helmet and made him look hell-touched and terrifying. “Just because we don’t charge money, doesn’t mean there isn’t a price to pay.”

Dr. Nightingale, dressed like a damn kindergarten teacher, laughed at him.

#dpxdc #jazz fen #jason todd #social worker jazz #social worker jazz fenton #anger management ship #anger management #pre anger management #jason todd x jazz fenton #i don't know why i keep writing scenes where Jazz writes resumes to apply to work for crime bosses but it just feels right in my soul okay #the real reason Jason wears a full face helmet is so people can't tell when he utterly fails to hide his emotions about something #the idea of social worker jazz working in crime alley has completely consumed me mind body and soul

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

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Eddie’s been well aware of his feelings towards Steve, ever since his heart still managed to skip a beat even while running for his life in a nightmare alternate dimension, just because Steve was in his line of vision; all he could think was Well, shit, this is pretty fucking inconvenient.

(What he’d meant was inevitable.)

But he doesn’t act on it, doesn’t dare to even think of it being as serious as love or he’s the goddamn one, not until…

It starts as a small thing. He’s still getting back into the swing of playing the guitar just for fun, just for him—when the mood strikes him, he fiddles away at his acoustic until some kind of tune forms, nothing all that complicated.

Wayne had got him a new stack of blank tapes, and he records himself singing a few times, improvising lyrics that end up sounding a bit like folk songs he’s heard in his childhood.

“Which one’s better?” he asks Steve idly on a cloudy afternoon; they’re long past the stage where he feels nervous at the thought of Steve hearing him sing, a familiarity grown between them: something more than just ‘forced’ bonding through near-apocalyptic circumstances.

He plays a tape while they lounge on the bed, and the second version of the song is barely over when Steve begins to speak.

And Eddie isn’t really expecting him to give a serious answer, because, well, the singing isn’t all that serious, honestly. The recording isn’t professional, his lyrics chop and change, the melody loses its way a bit in the middle before returning; it’s hardly the kind of thing a producer would play in an idealistic movie and say kid, I’m gonna make you a star.

(That’s not why Eddie’s recording, anyway. It’s more to prove something to himself: this hasn’t been taken from you. It can still make you happy.)

“Oh, this one, no question,” Steve says, with such confidence that Eddie almost wonders if he’s gonna reveal that in between the whole side hustles of Family Video and killing real D&D monsters, he is, in fact, a producer.

“Hmm, interesting. Why?”

Steve shrugs, brushing against Eddie with the movement, like he’s saying isn’t it obvious?

“I can hear you smiling in this one,” Steve says.

And Eddie…

Just stops for a moment. Like a song left on pause.

He’s unable to stop the question that comes spilling out.

“Can I, uh… Steve. Can I kiss you?”

The soft rustle of sheets; Steve’s face is suddenly so close that Eddie closes his eyes on impulse.

“Thought you were never gonna ask,” Steve says, and Eddie can hear his smile so clearly—and when their lips meet, he feels the shape of it, too, feels the smile grow as his song flows on, a joy that cannot be contained.

#sometimes love is looking at someone and knowing that they’re happy so happy that all you can do is feel it too. ❤️#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

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ravengards-rogue · 1 month

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i thought of you so often.

arthur morgan x reader.

✧ tags : fem!reader (gendered language, explicit use of she/her in reference to reader), children / planning on children, generally sappiness, fluff, au where nothing bad happens to arthur hdskjsdkfhsj.

✧ wc : 2.4k (???)

✧ a/n : arthur morgan.... save me arthur morgan....also not a super original thought but i can't Stop thinking about it.

✧ synopsis : a collection of love letters, all unfinished, tucked somewhere you aren't meant to find them. oh, arthur loves you more than you knew.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

You try to keep out of Arthur's belongings.

He's owed some privacy, for one. More than that, you've never felt any reason to look into it. Arthur isn't a man of many words, though you catch moments of his introspection should you pry. He isn't stoic, neither. And above all things, he's kind. Really truly kind in a way that makes him different from other men.

You don't have any complaints about him is what you mean. Unlike the men you've loved before, there are no short-comings of Arthur that would drive you to wanting to investigate his own personal things. Especially something so personal like his journals, prior or present.

On top of that, you were there with him through everything. You were part of the gang and stayed by him when it all fell apart. It was towards the end of that that Arthur came to you near frenzied, told you his plans, his thoughts. Confided in you and no less than begged to go with him where he ran.

You loved Arthur enough to stay, and so things ended - and you ran. There isn't much his journal could tell that you couldn't surmise on your own.

It's been years now, and you've long since left that life. You live with Arthur quietly, peaceful in the moments with a garden and kitty sweet as sugar.

It's a good life. An honest, quiet one sometimes to the point of being boring. You rarely miss the action, though occasionally you'll take up a bounty just to feel alive and make some money.

Mostly though, you live as unassuming folk. No bloodshed, no wardens, no gunslinging.

Been talk between you both about having a baby, recently. Serious talk. You've made some money between here and there, and you've got a good life. You've traveled too. But it gets a little lonely, and you don't really get your fill with just Jack when John and Abi are ways away.

Before anything like that, though - you need to clear some space. Empty out some belongings and things collecting dust. Living in one place for too long creates all sorts of mess, you find. When Arthur is home to help, he does - but he's been busy lately figuring something out with Charles. Some business venture related to ranching that you know nothing about so far. They'll tell you when its ready.

Usually when you're tidying, you keep to just your things, or your shared things - but Arthur has lived more life than you. It shows in that big closet space filled with nick-knacks he has yet to toss.

You'd mentioned it to him not too long ago and he'd given you permission to go through them.

(A kiss to your forehead from chapped lips and hands holding your waist, Arthur hums in acknowledgement as you ask his permission.

"Ain't nothing I gotta hide from you. Do whatever you need.)

But like you said - you try to keep your nose out of his business if it's not necessary for you to be in it in anyway.

You weren't trying to look through his things, really. You started cleaning, worked your way to that last box. Up on a shelf in his closet, a little too high for you to reach easily. You made a misstep and dropped the damn thing. It barely missed your head as the whole thing fell open, and out came journals and papers and photographs.

You've always known Arthur to be sentimental, so none of it has been particularly surprising. A photo of wolves and him on a horse, the picture from John and Abigail's engagement. Some other scraps of sentimental value.

And then there was a journal. Not Arthur's journal that he's always using, but another you've never seen before. You know Arthur journals, seen the thing plenty though you never look unless he shows you first.

A journal with a dark brown stained leather binding, fallen open and your name scrawled out in pencil lead at the top of it.

The curiosity got the better of you, okay? Not your damn fault.

So you're thinking on it.

The fabric of your skirt is pooled out underneath you as you hold the thing in your hands, sitting down on the ground surrounded by things. You've stowed away everything else that fell out from the box after ensuring it was intact, including Arthur's journals. Everything with the exception of the one you're holding.

Some guilt eats at you. You don't wanna upset him potentially by having looked. Even if he gave you permission, looking in the damn thing is a little different. But your name was there so clearly, and well - you didn't think he wrote about you. Apart from here and there, maybe.

You hold the book out in front of you with a sigh, looking fondly at his name ingrained in the leather. You press your forehead against it with, resigning yourself completely.

"Lord forgive my pryin'," You mumble, hoping it's enough to absolve you.

Your heart feels funny as you let your fingers trace over the hard edge of the front cover, one eye shut as you start to open it slow.

The first few pages are nothing special.

A page outlining who the journal belongs to and when it was started, and some doodles of yarrow and oleander. The pages after that filled with mundane entries. About people he met or things he saw, all endearing to you. The corners of your lips tug up slightly.

You really love this man helplessly.

You flip through a few more pages, many of them blank before writing starts to appear again. Little by little, you find passages. You look to the dates up at the corner (though not all of them have one) and trace the timeline. This is from all the way back in Horseshoe Overlook.

It feels like ages ago now.

You look at a page with no date, and reading the writing in it. There's doodles of flowers and trees along the bottom of the page. The words are easy enough to make out - because Arthur has the most unusually beautiful handwriting.

There's some entries about you. At first, they all include your name in some context. Mentioned in the same way Arthur might mention Hosea or Abigail. The further you go, the less you see it. The more you become her and she.

It's a trend. The longer you read, the less there is about anyone else. Just you and all your silly idiosyncrasies tucked between pages. Something lovestruck and foolish lights its match in you.

Saw a body hanging at the tracks at Valentine. A gruesome sight. I told her about it and she laughed. Asked me to take her to see it. A strange woman, by all accounts.

You feel yourself smile a little as you continue to flip through the pages.

She joined me riding into town today. Said she had some business to attend but would not tell me any details. After, she came with me to purchase a new gun. I engraved a snake into it's handle, per her request.

Another few pages littered with drawings of delicate berries and waterfalls before you stumble across more writing. The more you flip, the longer the passages become you.

You can't tear your eyes away.

Rained today. Nothing too terrible or worth mentioning, except that she nearly caught a cold playing in it. I brought her coffee to keep her warm, but could not scold her further upon seeing her delight.

Another passage, this time written with messier hand writing. A coffee stain splatters on the white of the page.

Your heart tugs on itself. Swells about a thousand sizes. To think he wrote so much of your time together between these pages.

You read and read and read - and each passage is a little more mundane at the last. Some pages go on in vivid detail, but others are so short you aren't sure what to make of the fact he wrote them at all. As if such little details were important enough to keep in mind.

I picked a flower for her. I thought it would suit her taste. It was white with delicate petals. I did not know the name.

She wore it in her hair this evening. I find I can't stop grinning.

One passage on the next few pages, longer than the rest, catches your eye. From later in your time together, written when you were in Leymone. Near Scarlett Meadows and before the mess in Saint Denis.

After Arthur had been kidnapped.

I have gone on and on about the business with Colm O'Driscoll in many entries before this one. Yet, I find it difficult to forget. Many times I have come close to death, and still no experience lingers on my mind quite like this one. Everyone has done their best to look after me. For that I am grateful, though I do not care for being looked after. What use am I like this, I wonder? Perhaps, I should simply be grateful to be alive and in one piece, if a little uglier than I was. Alongside Miss Grimshaw and Miss Tilly, she has been by my side while I recovered. Such a carefree woman and yet I have seen her cry and weep over me countless times in the last few weeks alone. The decent man in me is apologetic for causing sorrow. Perhaps, it is the outlaw in me that feels some strange relief or satisfaction. Her fussing does not give me any grief. If anything, I find myself all the more endeared. Such a decent woman does not belong in a place like this. I hope she is able to go somewhere far away and live peacefully. I am not so shameless to want anything more. The time together we have spent, I will make sure to cherish.

Something painful and pitiful tugs at your heart. Even when Arthur admitted his feelings for you, he had started it on a similar tangent. You tell him often that you're the one who feels out of bounds with him. That a man as decent and as honest as him often feels like too much for you to have so easily.

A tear slips from your eye and you laugh at your own sentimentality, wiping it away before it can splatter onto the pages.

The further you read, the more sporadic entries become. You find that there are pages filled with sketches of you, but many of them are scratched out or half erased - like he did not find them good enough. Of your side profile, of your hands, of you pointing at a target with a gun. You feel a strange feeling of love wash over you.

Instead of concrete thoughts, you're met with Arthur's abstract. Subtle complexities and studies. There's honest tenderness in the way he sketches you and the words he chooses to caption each with. Lighter, thinner lines. Smaller doodles like stray daydreams caught onto a page.

You've never doubted Arthur in his love for you, quiet man he is - but it proves to overwhelm when presented to you in such a way.

You get to back pages. There, you're finally met with more writing. Except, instead of journal entries, there's the start of letters. You find your name at the top of the page.

Over and over. Love letters, all unfinished or scrapped. Written over and over and over, but not completed. There's tens of them at least. You've never received a love letter from Arthur before, though it's nothing you fault him for.

Now you're almost glad. You like this much better.

My darling girl My muse The better half of me, I must find some way to tell you all of what I think of you. It seems no words do it justice, I'm afraid. Still, it is in my best interest to try.

Damn that man.

When you find yourself starting to weep, you don't fight the feeling. You merely shut the book closed and set it in your lap before crying into your hands.

Such overwhelmingly happy tears. You feel off balance. If the whole world turned on its head this very minute, you're unsure you'd notice. What a decent, honest man you've come to love. What a tender one.

In the middle of your crying, you don't hear the door open or close. Nor do you hear Arthur's heavy footfall until he's in the doorway, with a voice worried half to death.

"Sweetheart, what in the hell?"

You turn your head to look at him, watching his eyes widen at your tear stained face. You clamber to your feet hurriedly, book dropping onto the ground next to you as you throw yourself at him as soon as you can.

Arthur is a steady enough man not to stumble when you do, though you can feel his apprehension. Eventually, he circles his arms around your waist. His hugs are strong. Bout strong as him and then some. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other crossed over your back all around your shoulder. Full pressure as he squeezes you tight, patting the back of your head.

"I leave you alone for a few hours. What has gotten into you, little lady?"

You pull back and and look at him, wet lashes and all, before leaning up to kiss him. Arthur meets your lips chastely at first before making a noise of surprise as you kiss him further. You use both hands to grab his face as you do, scruff scratching against your skin. His lips are soft, welcoming. He melts into the touch, so easily - blue eyes lovestruck as you pull away.

"You know I love you, don't you Arthur? More than anyone in this crazy world we live in,"

His face softens visibly. He smiles at you, touching his head to yours.

"Somehow, I do. Though, I'm wonderin' what the hell brought this on."

You tuck your face against his chest, feeling his laughter reverb through you at the way you cling to him so fervently. You sniffle as you talk.

"Found your journal. The one about me,"

He goes stiff, then silent. When you look up again, he's blushing red. He pinches his brow.

"Lord, I'd forgotten all about it,"

You shake your head.

"Ain't nothing for you to be embarrassed about. You are so wonderful,"

He pouts at you. Your heart swells. "You ain't helping with the embarrassment."

You hold him further. Hug him so tight, worried he'll disappear if you don't.

"I love you, Arthur."

"You already told me once, didn'tcha?"

"And I'll tell you one thousand times over," You emphasize, pouting at him. "Really. I love you,"

"I love you too sweetheart," His hand cups your face, thumb brushing along your waterline. "Don't cry no more. Spoils that pretty face."

"I'll try but I don't know if it's all out of me,"

Arthur laughs, pressing a kiss against your hairline. "Guess I'll just have to wipe your tears."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

#zero.writes #rogues love letters #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fluff #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 fluff #red dead redemption x reader #this is so lovesick and silly i feel so miserable #I AM A JOHN GIRL. BUT. well that deadbeat father and bastard isnt gonna write you love letters like arthur im afraid

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genshin-scenarios · 8 months

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perhaps you've heard this before...

Summary: Assigning some trope dynamics/situations to the Fontaine guys! Gender neutral reader as usual.

Characters: Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Lyney

Back in a time when Neuvillette was still in his draconic form, you were a healer living in the outskirts who came across a mysterious creature that seemed to have an injury on its leg.

Suffice to say, Neuvillette was not open to a random stranger approaching him at the time, eyeing you warily as you did what you could to wrap up the wound. A glance was shared at the awkward bandaging, having used all your gauze because of his sheer size, before you sighed and backed away, giving Neuvillette a look that said “Don't run away, I’ll be back.”

And back you were, with proper medicine and an odd concoction that soothed pain. When you were satisfied you gave him a pat on his other leg and told him it should heal up soon. He didn’t place much expectations on the works of a human healer, but surprisingly enough it did recover sooner than he expected. Perhaps it was because it wasn’t a serious injury, but you seemed to be quite happy about it anyways.

From there started an odd friendship between Neuvillette and you, like passing neighbors that would sometimes share stories (you sharing the story, him wondering why you chose to speak to him instead of another human).

Who would’ve thought then that many years later, you’d be reincarnated as a citizen in the current Fontaine, and cross paths with Neuvillette again?

What first started as a sense of familiarity soon turned into recognition, when Neuvillette saw you speaking to some of the local children playing at the fountain. The way the sunlight seems to derive its glow from you… it’s quite hard to forget.

This time however you were a little intimidated by the Chief Justice speaking to you, even if he’d just found an excuse to do so after scaring off some thugs that attempted to take your wallet. Though Neuvillette did have to admit - it was quite amusing to see you more nervous about his presence than the thugs. It was a far cry from your meeting those centuries ago, even if he was the only one to remember it.

After you warmed up to him though, you were comfortable enough to act like you usually did. Once you asked Neuvillette to guess what you changed about your appearance, only to reveal that you’d worn a ribbon to match his, but on your wrist - inside of your sleeve.

At his note that he’d only see it if he invaded your space, you boldly replied that perhaps that’s what you were trying to get him to do. In that moment, the afternoon had suddenly turned very bright, as if the clouds just suddenly evaporated from the sky.

Is this what happens when the Hydro Dragon gets flustered? You’re none-the-wiser, save for the way Neuvillette is pointedly trying to avoid your gaze.

You’re a reformed thief who now works under Wriothesley as part of your sentence (that is to say, you’re his all-purpose errand runner who already had a hand in things related to… the illegal sides of Fontaine, so this was a matter of resourcefulness on the court’s part.)

Though more often than not, Wriothesley says that you really don’t act the part of a criminal serving their time. Whenever you’re introduced to a newbie, you have fun saying you’re a detective, or assistant jailer, or some other job that doesn’t exist.

For all your evasive ways however, there was something about Wriothesley’s presence that seemed to ground you a little. Maybe it’s the way he manages to see through your lies, or the way he treats you the same no matter what atrocious things leave your mouth.

…Maybe it’s because you lack genuine malice. Maybe it’s because having grown up in a world where you didn’t fit in with the normal folk, nor the criminals, you found a bit of solace having a place to return to at the end of the day to Wriothesley and Waghild at headquarters.

…Not that you’ll ever say that outright. You’d rather retell the story of how you and Wriothesley met than confess something so vulnerable. (Read: you were trying to steal something from him, and he’d caught you by the wrist, immediately cornering you against the wall next to him. Suffice to say your heart nearly jumped out of your chest in more ways than one.)

‘You meet a charming stranger on the streets of Fontaine’, is how this retelling might go. But the first meeting in your eyes was simply a reunion in Lyney’s, who is the only one between you that remembers your encounter when you were still children, and you’d told him a story about a magician who could make flowers bloom from their fingertips, saying it was nothing short of a miracle.

Suffice to say, you were more than caught off-guard when Lyney asked you for your help during a street performance in the present time, and slipped a note into your pocket which told you to ‘follow the map’.

You recognised the Opera Epiclese as the X marked on the paper. As soon as you arrived, the map in your hands started to glow - seeming to take on a life of its own as it darted out of your hands and flew through the gap between the door, leaving you bewildered but intrigued as you followed its lead.

Through the entrance and the second pair of doors, the sound of Lyney’s voice echoed through the room. Was he rehearsing for a show?

The moment you opened the door to peek in however, you were immediately proven wrong by the seats that were occupied - VIP guests with a private show from Lyney and Lynette, with you somehow privy to it, grandiose lights, music and all.

The thing is, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. Out of the corner of your eye the sentient map settles upon an empty seat at the back row before losing its magic, which held no other occupants (most of them populated the rows closer to the stage, private party and all).

From your peaceful place at the top, you sit quietly in awe at the impossible acts onstage. Flying birds, disappearing people, and the classic sawing-in-half trick that had the entire theater in stitches - it was safe to say that the twins commanded one's attention like no other.

As he closed up the show however, Lyney glanced up towards the rows where you sat, hidden away from the general view. Pleasantly surprised that his secret audience did in fact come to watch him, he wears a secretive smile as he bids the crowd farewell, making his leave.

The next minute, a breathless Lyney’s rushed to find you before you could leave. While the guests downstairs have just ended their time with the great magician, it seems that your evening with him has just begun.

#neuvilette x reader #lyney x reader #wriothesley x reader #genshin neuvillette #lyney genshin impact #wriothesley genshin #neuvilette x you #lyney x you #wriothesley x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin writing #genshin imagines #traveler wishes

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theminecraftbee · 11 months

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i will say following the fractureiser thing is really interesting and kind of funny because if anyone asks me about it, i WILL reiterate what the actual researchers are saying - do not download new mods, do not assume that because you got your mods somewhere that is not curseforge you are safe, do not assume because your mods are not on the list curseforge put out of known infected mods you are safe, follow the instructions in the github to check your machine - because this IS serious and everyone needs to take it seriously.

(and it's a good reminder for folks that minecraft mods are basically arbitrary executable files - treat them like that! if you wouldn't trust a .exe from where you got it, don't trust a .jar, and be aware that you'll always probably be inherently opening yourself to a LITTLE risk by playing modded! not normally this, this is thankfully an unusual situation, but like, you know how it is. also a good reminder that antivirus cannot detect viruses it doesn't know exists, because windows defender is starting to recognize this as a virus now, but that's because security researchers now know it exists. it couldn't recognize it before yesterday despite it existing for weeks, because it didn't know what it was!)

however also the github from the maleware researchers includes the line "we have reason to believe the author of this malware is not a very good programmer in the first place" and reading the full technical timeline. lol. lmao. lol. incredible how many virulent worms and viruses are less works of genius as much as works of sheer opportunity.

(anyway curseforge has finished scanning all the mods in its repository, you can see their tweet about this here. curseforge, at least, is probably safe, although i'd recommend you don't play until you've checked your machine to make sure you don't have any infected files anywhere; even your vanilla minecraft could be infected if you played an infected file at some point!)

#this is all kind of fascinating to me from a like. professional perspective #like from a modded player perspective this all SUCKS and the timing SUCKS #but from a dev perspective. huh. lol

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destructive-path · 5 months

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Patrol Partner Protection Syndrome - E.W.

summary: Ellies habit of going above and beyond her duties as a patrol partner causes you to question her motives.

tags: patrol partner!ellie, slight innocent! reader, ellie is older than you in this, swearing, a kiss is shared at the end, no smut in this one folks just good ol fashion yearning :)

a/n: as usual i wrote this very spur of the moment and its not proofread but you love me anyways so j shut up and enjoy

“Yep, that sounds like a classic case of the 3PS.”

“3PS? That sounds like a fucking star wars character.”

A loud laugh leaves Jesses lips at your remark furthering your frustration visibly before Dina smacks him on the shoulder gently.

“Patrol partner protection syndrome.” Dina says plainly.

“What the hell is that?”

“Its why Ellie threatened that guy that was flirting with you at the bison last night.”

The look on your face is still riddled with confusion. Dina sighs deeply, your innocence was always something that was a little difficult for others to adjust to. Explaining certain topics always took a little longer when it came to you.

“Sometimes, when two people get paired up on patrol they begin to…how should I say this? Okay look. Usually in a pair theres one person who feels a strong obligation to protect the other. It doesnt always have to be the stronger person per say. On patrol you and this one person go through some serious shit together. You both become more and more venerable the more you put your trust in them and let them protect you, aaand sometimes the lines blur between them protecting you to keep you alive and them protecting you because they think they are meant to. All the time.”

You slowly begin to understand.

“Its what happened with me and Jesse…Tommy and Maria too.”

“Wait but you’re all couples.”

Jesse and Dina look at each other then look at you. A grin fights its way on both their faces, then your eyes grow wide.

“Oh my god….OH? MY GOD? Are you saying Ellie likes me?”

They both burst out into laughter, once again making you feel extremely embarrassed. You cross your arms in frustration and slump further in your chair.

“Hey. Hey hey. Im not saying she HAS a crush on you, because thats not my place to assume how she feels completely.”

“Buut she did mention her heart beats faster anytime you smile at her, and thats like pretty gay.”

“JESSE.”

Jesse throws his hands up in defense, then shoots you a sympathetic look.

“Sorry! Look am I wrong? You two would be great together. Plus i’m sick of hearing about you every time Ellie comes over.”

“JESSE!”

“What? WHAT?”

“Your killing them.”

You felt exhausted. Ellie had feelings for you? She consoled in her best friends about your smile? This changes everything. How were you supposed to see her casually or for patrol, knowing what you knew now.

“Jesus im losing it.”

“Well, do you feel anything for Ellie?”

You thought about it for a moment.

“I-I dont know. I mean I like having her around. She always makes me feel comfortable…safe. I really like when she cooks for me or plays me songs on her guitar. She always looks so cool when she plays, and her voice is sooo pretty. I mean shes also really pretty too. Well not pretty…more like-“

As you search for the right word to describe Ellie you notice the way the couple looks at you. Like you just said something incredibly obvious and extremely oblivious to you. Then it sinks in.

“Oh my god I like Ellie.”

They both nod in unison.

“I gotta go.” You shoot up and grab your bag then rush out Dina and Jesses place, not bothering to say your goodbyes. You only had one thing in mind.

Ellie.

—

As you run as fast as your legs can muster, you think about the events of last night that led you to Dinas and Jesses inquiring them for advice.

It was all very trivial and cliche. You had been dancing at the Tipsy Bison after a few shots of whiskey, on your own. The usual gang was there minding their own except for Ellie. She always had her eyes on you whenever your presence was near. Glass in hand as she leaned on the bar watching while you spun around the room. Ellie couldn’t bring herself to join you, so she settled for being an audience member. She always admired your outgoing nature, never concerned on what others think of you. As Ellie thought about other attributes you had that made her fall for you, someone else had decided to take it upon them to impede on your dance party of one.

Some man tall in height but skinny in stature stood uncomfortably close to you. Uncomfortable for Ellie that is. The grip had tightened on her glass so that if she clenched any harder it would break. The sight of the mans arm slithering around your waist and pulling you close had Ellie swallowing the rest of the contents of her drink and slamming the glass on the bar counter and making her way over to you both.

“Ellie-“ Dina tried to stop her due to the angry nature of the glass hitting the wood making a sound loud enough to pull the couple away from whatever they were having, but its no good.

“Save it.” Ellie snaps, then makes her way over to you. As she advances closer she can tell you weren’t one hundred percent comfortable with this random mans advances on you. She knew you were too nice, too innocent to understand that his intentions were not pure and that you didnt have the strength to push him away. But Ellie sure did.

“Thats enough of that.” Ellie says as she rips the mans arms off of you and grabs your wrists to pull you away from him.

“Woah woah who the fuck are you?”

“Im Ellie, and we are leaving.”

“I think they can make that decision for themselves huh?”

Ellie looks at you with a deep frustration. One you had never seen in those eyes before. Not even on patrol, this was something by different. If you weren’t so tipsy you could swear it was laced with a heavy amount of possession.

“Ellie.” you slur slightly.

“We are leaving. Now.” Before the man can protest you were being pulled out the door and into the cold jackson night.

The walk back to your place was silent. Ellies grip on your wrist had morphed into a waffling hand hold sometime after you exited the Tipsy Bison. The warmth of her fingers intertwined with yours made you heat up inside, blushing extremely prominently due to the alcohol running through your system.

When you had finally reached your door Ellie pulls you face to face with her. Hand still together. She uses her free hand to push some loose strands of off your face to see you better. A soft smile twitches on her lips for a moment then she finally speaks.

“Go inside and go to bed, you’re drunk.” Its not the farewell you hoped for, but it’s soft. Ellie utters the words with care in her own way. You can’t help but stare at her through lidded puppy eyes and nod slowly.

You turn to unlock the door then turn back around.

“Goodnight Ellie.” You whisper in a way that makes her heart ache.

“Goodnight.”

It’s only when she turns around to walk away does she finally let go of your hand.

“Ellie? Ellie please open up I know you’re in there.”

After knocking for what felt like forever you were finally graced with the sounds of locks being undone. You take a step back and watch the door swing open revealing a slightly disheveled looking Ellie. Still she renders you speechless for a moment her appearance making you shy, as it always has.

“What’s up?” She says genuinely concerned. You see her face soften when she realized the interruption of her personal time was you. The difference making you blush.

“I-Can I come in?”

Her eyes grow wide, you hadn’t been inside of her space yet. The vision of you and her in her room alone flashes through her brain. She steps aside and opens the door fully to make room for you to enter.

“Oh yeah of course please come in. Sorry.” She laughs shyly. You make your way into her space and can no longer hold your questions to yourself.

“Sorry its kind of a mess I wasnt really expecting any-“

“Ellie do you like me?” Its silent for a moment before Ellie speaks up.

“Of course I like you kid, you’re my patrol partner.”

“No not in that way I mean, you’re always looking out for me and making me things. Even when we aren’t on patrol! You act like my bodyguard sometimes…”

Ellie knows exactly where to is going. Your confrontation of her actions makes her smile a bit.

“I feel the need to protect you outside of patrol sometimes, sure.” Shes looking right in your eyes, observing the look on your face so she doesn’t say the wrong thing. Right now you look as if you had just been hypnotized eyes devoid of much thought.

“3PS.” You whisper, just loud enough for Ellie to hear. It’s quiet for a moment then an involuntary scoff comes from Ellie as she raises her arm to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“You’ve been talking to fucking Jesse.” She laughs and turns away from you. You watch her in awe of what you felt like Jesse and Dina had prophesied. Was it really that simple? The act of protecting someone equating to love was a thought that made your heart swell.

“Ellie…I like you. Alot. But I need to know if you like like me or if you just like me enough to protect me. Like you would protect Jesse or Dina. Because I thought I just liked you but then I started thinking about your voice-“

“My voice?” Ellie had turned back around and was still while watching this confession spill out of you. Her question driving a step closer to you, the advancement unbeknownst to you due to the rambling of your thoughts.

“Yes your voice, and the way you sing and play guitar for me and how much i like it-”

Another step.

“-and how pretty you sound when you sing-“

Step.

“-and how pretty you look, well- not pretty but-“

With this last step you had only now realized how close she had gotten. Speech dying at the lack of a word to describe Ellies appearance. You were certain there wasn’t a word so great.

“You don’t think i’m pretty?” Shes pouts, lost on your words. The praise of her leaving your lips so easily is something she would soon crave often. Your breath begins to pick up slightly at her question. The look on her face causes you to whimper slightly. A look of hurt adorns her face, exaggerated to make you feel bad for her.

“No.” You protest meekly.

“No?” Ellie shakes her head in offense.

“No! I-I mean…I think you’re very pretty Ellie.” You shakily admit. The words make you feel a wave of embarrassment in this situation. Her proximity not making this confession any easier.

“Yeah?” She questions rising her hands to push your hair out of your face as she did the night before. The feeling of her fingertip makes you lean into her touch, closing your eyes at the soft stroke of her digit on your forehead.

“Mhhm” You nod and sigh simultaneously. As your head falls due to your loss of strength at her touch, she takes your head into her hand and strokes your cheek with her thumb. This delicate action causes your eyes to open slowly meeting Ellies green ones. Everything about her exudes admiration. She cant get enough of how at her disposal you seemed to be in this moment. The sight of you had coaxed out the need to protest admitting her feelings. No longer afraid that you might deny her.

“I..like like you too.” She whispers while staring at your lips, licking her own at the sight of them. The new shine of her lips brings a heat to your cheeks, Ellie notices this and inhales deep. Her confession has you reeling. The sound of her voice as she admits her likeness towards you radiates need. For once you are certain it’s because of you. Ellie needed you. Ellie wanted you.

“Stay with me today. Hmm? Let me show you.” The softness of her request is as comforting as a pillow. You can tell she so desperately wants to rid you of any doubts that Ellie was completely and utterly infatuated with you.

“Show me what?” You ask curious of what she had in store. She licks her lips again. Then brings your face so close that you can feel Ellies breath on your lips as she whispers-

“How much I like you.”

before placing a desperate kiss on your lips.

#ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #the last of us #tlou #tlou2 #ellie tlou #ellie williams fic

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oneatlatime · 4 months

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Lake Laogai

This Lake had better have Appa in it. With little water wings on.

Skipping the commentary as usual.

The Previously On section suggests that a whole lot of plot threads are about to crash into each other. Strap in folks.

Lefty Sokka!

Beat up Sokka quota fulfilled by his sister's critique of his art skills. It's not like he had paper to practice with at the South Pole.

Sometimes I forget that Aang is 12, then he does something like attempt to rescue his pet from a nefarious city-wide conspiracy of silence with lost cat posters.

"Good tea is its own reward." That means no, he isn't paid enough.

Remember what I said in my last post about Iroh bringing too much attention to himself?

"senior executive assistant manager" someone on the writing team has worked retail I see. Nothing like meaningless promotions with no raise attached! It's right up there with employee pizza party.

I have to pause here and point something out. This whole scene with Iroh? This is an adult fantasy. I don't mean dirty, I mean this whole scene was put in specifically to appeal to the adults who got roped in to watching this kids' show by their children. A rich man walks through the door of your shitty retail job, immediately spots your natural greatness, and offers you a much better paying job with unlimited creative freedom and a better house to go with it? Find me a burnt out retail worker who hasn't conjured up this fantasy five times a shift.

And so the plots come crashing back together. This won't end badly.

"patience really pays off" I checked. He waited literally three seconds.

Shout out to Toph in the background playing catch with a ball she can't see. Casual flex of epic proportions.

Remind me never to go to Lake Laogai. Sounds like it's lousy with Ju Dees.

So the Ju Dees don't know about each other? Because she seems honestly confused. Does Ju Dee think she's the only Ju Dee? What happens if two Ju Dees run into each other in the street?

Posters are illegal but I haven't heard a peep about recarving a bunch of fields into a zoo.

This is maybe the second time Aang's blown up over Appa. Frankly he deserves more blow ups about the whole situation.

I don't think knocking down walls will help find Appa, but I applaud Toph's spirit.

They took out a whole wall and then exit by the door anyways. That's funny.

I really hate this guy, but I have to admit that he may be the first truly competent villain of the series.

'The Jasmine Dragon' also lets anyone with half a brain know that you're Fire Nation. Try the Jasmine Badgermole instead.

Zuko really can't catch a break, huh? He wasn't happy being a tea server, but at least he was resting. But every time he gets five minutes to himself, the main plot reappears to drag him back into the action, whether he wants to or not. Although he hasn't figured out that he doesn't want to be dragged back yet.

Every line of dialogue in this scene is a good point. Zuko's right, Iroh's right. The Zuko's right again, then Iroh's right again.

YES YES YES GET HIS ASS

That was satisfying!

I'm not understanding why Sokka is the voice of reason here. Is he incapable of holding a grudge? He's the one that had all the animosity with Jet to begin with. Shouldn't it be Aang who wants to hear him out?

Toph is a living lie detector now? I can't think of an example off the top of my head, but I'm sure that could have come in handy previously. Any other incredibly useful skills we should know about?

Jet is oddly defensive for someone who claims to know he did wrong.

Ever get so excited that your spine malfunctions?

Sokka just has a metre long map in his pocket. Good friend to have in a pinch.

Avatar first! Katara is rude to an old person!

I'm going to have fun with Toph's new ability.

Toph, you have never been more right. It is the worst city ever. You are really shining this episode.

I know this is a serious scene, but I need to point out that Jet's guyliner is on point.

This shot is jarringly out of place. I think it's because it both black and white, and live action. Those have to be real clouds.

So the Blue Spirit can talk after all. Careful, your Zuko is showing.

Wow Zuko is good at sewing. And fast too.

Sokka is having far too much fun with this whole 'prompt Jet's memory' thing. Maybe he does have a bit of a grudge after all.

Katara can reverse brainwashing now too? Everyone's levelling up this episode.

This scene with the planks is a very cool and disorienting visual.

Didn't have 'the gaang breaks into a brainwashing facility' on my ATLA bingo card.

Pretty.

OMIGOD IT'S AP- did Zuko just break the fourth wall?

Everyone always forgets to look up.

So this fight is going to be Toph v. all of the Dai Li while everyone else tries not to get in Toph's way.

That's a boat.

Toph could probably take all these guys out faster if she wasn't having to constantly break off to save everyone else from them.

The Dai Li prancing up walls is a really cool visual. It's very Ty Lee of them.

I love watching her work.

Why don't you let Long Feng escape? He's no longer threatening you, and you're down there to rescue Appa. Just let him go.

The security on Lake Laogai is a joke.

Big words from someone who also had no plan whatsoever at the North Pole.

Zuko knows that Iroh's right. He knows, and that's important. I don't think Iroh is saying anything that Zuko hasn't thought and then hurriedly pretended to have never thought about before. It's why he says 'stop it' rather than being completely confused as to what Iroh is referring to.

Poor Appa's like 'can you have a crisis of self after you free me please?'

'You've chosen your own demise." No. You chose it for him. That's some top tier deflection/victim blaming right there.

Longshot can talk!

That's one hell of a set up and pay off re: Toph's lie detecting abilities.

Poor Jet. A double tragedy: to be likeable only when you're brainwashed, and to dedicate your life to wiping out the Fire Nation yet being killed by the Earth Kingdom.

Hi Appa. It's about time buddy.

Shockingly in character for Appa's first actions to be to single handedly save the Gaang from a threat.

You skip that bastard like a stone.

Everyone go and listen to the sound Appa makes when he spits out Long Feng's shoe. It's delightful.

I am framing this.

And this too.

I can tell there's some shmymbolism here, but it's gone right over my head.

Final Thoughts

Appa is back. The Gaang has Appa back. I have Appa back. Ok. I can relax now. With any luck, this means we can leave Ba Sing Se.

This episode felt like City of Walls and Secrets, Part 2. I think it was a good decision to have a couple of episodes between the two, but I think there would be some tonal whiplash if you binged this section of season 2. Which wouldn't have been a problem for a show designed to air once a week, so it's a moot point.

So Zuko freed Appa from his chains, and presumably pointed him in the direction of a door or something. Or maybe not; Appa has a ridiculously hard head, he could have busted his way out. Either way, Zuko broke the chains. Thanks Zuko!

In season 1, Zuko finds the Avatar the world had lost. In season 2, Zuko finds the Sky Bison the Avatar had lost. So in season 3, Zuko will find something Appa has lost. I wonder what that will be?

Jet being killed by the Earth Kingdom is so deliciously ironic, and tragic, yet very in character for the Earth Kingdom's approach to this war. It's also literally this:

Smellerbee and Longshot have really gotten the short end of the stick over and over this season. They were the only ones to decide to stick with Jet. Presumably they were the only ones who believed that he had had a legitimate change of heart. And they were kind of wrong. They get to Ba Sing Se only for Jet to immediately backslide way past even where he was at his worst in Season 1. He completely discounts and dismisses their legitimate concerns for his methods and his overall health. Then Jet gets arrested and disappears for two (?) weeks. So what do they do now? Get jobs? Steal so they don't starve? Then suddenly Jet's back but he doesn't even remember them. Then suddenly Jet's dead. The whole point of coming to Ba Sing Se just died, in a way that shows very clearly that their desire to help with the war is not welcome at all in the city. So what now? Do they leave and try to fight in the war from outside the walls? Do they settle down and try to forget about the war? Things did spiral completely out of Jet's control once the Dai Li got involved, but you have to admit that he's left his only remaining friends up a creek.

Sokka had some good jokes but was oddly ok with this episode's events. Toph had some great lines and got to shine with a new skill that any writer with half a brain will bring back in future episodes. She felt like the audience substitute this episode, which is usually Sokka's role. Toph was episode MVP for sure. Poor Aang took a bit of a back seat this episode. Zuko finally hit the crisis point, and may well have made his first indisputably correct decision of the series. But, as previous episodes have gone out of their way to show me that Zuko being good always goes badly for Zuko, I'm sure freeing Appa will somehow come back to bite him.

Iroh's question of "who are you? And what do you want?" was Zuko's entire character arc this season. He took a shot at answering the "who are you?" portion in Zuko Alone, and sort of halfway got there before messing up at the end of the episode. As for the "what do you want?" Zuko will tell you (often and repeatedly) that he wants his honour back. But I think he just wants to go home. The thing is, I strongly suspect that the home Zuko wants to return to hasn't existed since his mother left, if it ever existed at all. Which means that while "who are you?" has an answer Zuko can work towards, "what do you want?" has an answer that is kind of impossible. So Zuko is going to have to learn to want something new.

RIP Jet. Your life was fucked to Hell long before you were old enough to try and salvage it. You'll probably be missed by more people than you strictly deserve. War sucks, amirite?

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #lake laogai

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gone-fish-mode · 8 months

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ok. i have questions for some therians and otherkin. these are genuine and will be below the cut! you can dm or send an ask of tag or comment or whatever. these aren't too serious or anything i don't think. but they're bugging me and i need answers but im SHY and scared to send asks to folks who may not be comfy answering.

ok so first is deity, god, angel, and demon otherkin. and this one is a bit personal, but I've been thinking about it a lot. are you religious? or do you consider yourself a part of your religion of origin? how has your identity changed your relationship with spirituality and all that? i feel like being any sort of divine otherkin would cause for a few complications, especially if you were spiritual beforehand. it seems like an interesting dynamic and i am yet to really see anyone talk about it in depth (granted, i do not peruse yalls kin specific tags much, so what do I really know)

ok next. most mammal therians/kin apply to this one. Yall's ears. When I see conversations about ear placements and interacting with phantom limbs, its always described on the top of your head. But on most, it's right behind the eyes, maybe closer to the brow bone. is that where yall feel them, or is it almost like an anime character (yk what i mean)? If so, do you think it has to do with our heads being so much taller? Or is it a hybrid system.

ok. finally for my birds. why are the wings on yalls back? is it because hands are too foreign? Bird wings and human arms are the same limbs with evolved features. Like idk it just confuses me.

i know for the last two shifts are different for everyone and all that but. I'm such a literal and logical person that these things keep bugging me and they will continue to bug me until i get answers. if i felt wings on my back, i'd assume i was some harpy or griffin. eaugh. anyway! thank you for your time have a wonderful day.

#blub blub #otherkin #therian #alterhuman #canine therian #canine otherkin #feline therian #feline otherkin #bird therian #bird otherkin #wolf therian #voidkin #divinekin #godkin #deitykin #demonkin #actually angelic #angelkin #fallen angelkin

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picnokinesis · 4 months

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flux adjacent fic recs

in media res by wreckageofstars (3k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: “Well,” she said. “Now you know what the mattress is for.” Dan shifted. “And the trampoline?” “Best not ask about the trampoline.” //I think this is probably the first Dan pov fic I ever read, and it’s absolutely brilliant. This author gets the character voices down so perfectly it’s unreal, and the whole thing is just so wonderful to see from Dan’s outsider perspective. It’s set in the immediate aftermath of Once, Upon Time, and it does a fantastic job of exploring the impact of what happened in that episode – both from a whump perspective and an emotional one. Angsty, but also funny in the worst kind of way – someone please go give Yaz a break, she REALLY needs one. Anyway, it’s great, everyone go read it right now.

Hearts of Stone by weirdpug (previously xhonia) (1k, 1 chapter, thoschei) summary: The Doctor loses herself. The Master finds her. //Ohhh this one this one, it’s SO awesome – it’s one of those fics that does really cool things with the formatting? Which works great here, because it’s a weeping angel!13 fic and wow, wow! Extremely awesome indeed, and just beautifully written – the prose is just so full of character, even when the Doctor is losing herself and it’s so well done.

Divination by WalkerLister (6k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: “There was a name for someone similar to me once. They called them the Valeyard. You can call me that, if you like. I quite like it, it’s suitably eerie. Little bit of drama never hurt anyone.” //Right, so we all remember what happened when War of the Sontarans aired…we got that ‘next time’ trailer of Once Upon Time…and all collectively lost our minds over the inverted dark coat. Since then, I feel like everyone has been finding really creative ways to get it into fanfics, and this is a wonderful example. And, well, if the promise of dark coat!13 wasn’t enough, this fic is just an absolutely fascinating look at the concept of the Valeyard in the context of the fobwatch from Flux, but focused on Yaz and her relationship with/perception of the Doctor. It’s such a good concept and so so wonderfully done! (also, if you’re a fan of thasmin, this author has a ton of stuff, so definitely go check it all out! For the less thasmin-inclined folks, I highly recommend Ipesity, which is one of my favourite post-TTC fics)

three points where two lines meet by Ymae (4k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: The Doctor tries to get those memories back, and breaks herself, bit by bit. //Oh man. This fic. I still remember when this one first posted and hoooooo boy, it is a hell of a gut-punch and absolutely wrenched my heart right out of my chest but HHHHHHHHH wow!! WOW. Genuinely, I think this fic rewrote my brain a little bit. It's set in the immediate aftermath of Once, Upon Time where the Doctor makes some very unwise decisions about trying to tug at her timeline and it's absolutely incredible. Very angsty, very whumpy, and full of a HUGE amount of the Doctor messing with timelines and very visceral, tangible descriptions of her timesense. It is such a treat, guys. And if you like this one and want something with similar vibes, I also highly recommend this post-flux fic by the same author!

Sheer Poetry! by Papapaldi (57k, 5 chapters, gen) summary: Trapped within her own mind, the Doctor travels through an impossible house, with everyone she has ever been locked inside. Her body is an unresponsive, useless bag of flesh somewhere far and away in reality. The part of her brain that she knows, where her past resides, sits somewhere else entirely within the old machine. The Ravagers eat, buried memories beckon, and the Doctor's faith is shaken to its core. She will never be the same – but that's what she's all about, right? Incredible change. //oh my days. THIS FIC, guys - look, I see the word count, I know, I know. This fic is a serious undertaking, but like so many things in life it is soooooo so worth it. Bucket loads of absolutely ASTOUNDING imagery, more references to Lungbarrow and Timewyrm Revelation than you can shake a stick at, BUT you don't need to have read those stories at all to enjoy this absolutely fantastic saga (put it like this - I've not read those books, and I had a whale of a time). Incredibly poetic, a little nonsensical in the best kind of way (it IS a mindscape fic) but startlingly funny and so beautifully in character. I laughed, I cried. This fic is just a love letter to everything Doctor Who, weaving all of canon into this beautiful, cohesive tapestry. I highly recommend. (and, if you're hungry for more and want tpotd content, there's an excellent sequel as well)

every step i choose to take (begins to set the world aflame) by SleepyMaddy (12k, 1 chapter, thoschei) summary: In a spaceport lost in a remote quadrant of interstellar space, a Doctor who doesn’t know herself anymore runs into a Master who doesn’t know himself yet // Ok so the sheer concept of this one ALONE is absolutely brilliant – the Doctor, escaping from the Division and half out of her head, bumps into the Master, who’s not long regenerated from Missy. And, guys. It’s fascinating. Seeing the Master right at the start, before he finds out everything that comes to define him in this era, and then having him meet a version of the Doctor who is quite a lot further along than him and just completely out of it? It’s like catnip to me, guys. And, of course, it’s all helped by the fact that the writing is absolutely brilliant – the characters are just absolutely spot on, which is quite an incredible feat seeing as they are both in very different places to where we see them in the show, yet they still manage to ring true throughout the whole thing. And also the mindscape imagery? The psychic whump? The emotional gut-punch that is the entire fic? Absolutely unparalleled. (also, if you’re a spydoc fan? Just help yourself out and read this author’s entire set of works, because it’s all fantastic)

see me bare my teeth for you by picnokinesis (16k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: “Do you know your mission?” //This is a bit of a cheeky self-rec, but, in my defence, if you're looking for flux fics, then I think you'll enjoy this one. I wrote it in the week after Village of the Angels aired, and it's basically all my thoughts and theories about what was going to happen in Survivors of the Flux thrown into a 16k oneshot. I was...mostly wrong HAHA but I’m still really proud of it. If you like division!doctor, then this one is for you

we're only dreaming (tell me who i am) by SpaceBetweenGalaxies (2k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: more the-memory-house-is-Lungbarrow clowning //ok, so if you were like me when flux was airing and absolutely lost your MIND over the illogical house which was a bit too on the nose regarding Lungbarrow related things, then THIS FIC IS FOR YOU. Absolutely brilliantly done, with some gorgeous imagery that I'm still thinking about to this day, and just a wonderfully unsettling exploration of the Doctor and how she picks at those cut off memories in the aftermath of the Flux

the stars are bound to change by emptypockets (9k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: Being trisected across the universe has unexpected consequences for the Doctor, and Yaz is tasked with the responsibility of keeping her awake. //ohhhhhh this fic is so wonderful!! It's that weird sweet spot of 'soft angst', where it hits where it hurts but at the same time the whole thing feels like it's wrapping you in a warm blanket. Augh!! Such a lovely portrayal of the Doctor and Yaz's dynamic - I adore how this author writes these two so much. An absolutely lovely (but angsty!) character exploration, with a healthy dose of whump and sleepiness on the side. What more could you want?

Everything by rowanthestrange (24k, 13 chapters, thasmin) summary: In which Yaz wants to know everything, and the Doctor finally wants that too. //Ok, so full disclosure, I don't read that much thasmin, but this fic, guys. It's just gorgeous. A beautifully written exploration of Yaz and her relationship with the Doctor in the aftermath of Flux, which explores the years Yaz spent in the past and how that changed her; the Doctor grappling with her identity issues and how that's changed her; as well as all sorts of other wonderful things besides. Another fic that had tears streaming down my face (the TARDIS chapter got me...). It's such a poignant, emotional fic, and it's very focused on character in a way that I really adore. If you like thasmin, this is an absolute must-read. If you're not a fan of thasmin, I recommend it anyway (- signed: a thoschei shipper) because it's just such a brilliant portrayal of these two.

#doctor who #thirteenth doctor #dw fic #yasmin khan #the doctor #the master #jodie whittaker #thoschei #spydoc #sacha dhawan #thasmin #fic #fic rec #doctor who flux #doctor who series 13 #dwedit #taka edits #feel free to add more recs in the notes if you like!!#share the love!!#apologies for the wrong username on the hearts of stone one #because i made that edit so long ago that the author changed their name KSKSKSKSKS #but my editing programme has updated and completely changed??#so the settings I used to make that. are. not there anymore RIP ME #BUT AHHHHHH YES i've been meaning to make another one of these for AGES!!#anyway forgive me if i missed anyone's fics!!#honestly half the challenge is finding fics that like....i can find a screencap that WORKS for the story #which is a challenge in itself #there were a couple of others i also wanted to rec but the TITLES WERE TOO LONG #GUYS #like i know im part of the problem i KNOW

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feminismisstillahatemovement · 11 days

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WASHINGTON, D.C. — In a swift and decisive response to the drone and missile attack on Israeli targets over the weekend, President Joe Biden retaliated against Iran by attaching a note to the next pallet of cash that reads "PLEASE DO NOT USE FOR TERRORISM."

The note, which was translated into Farsi, was placed in a clearly visible location on the next U.S. shipment of cash being sent to Tehran, with the Biden administration confident that its stern tone would ensure the Iranian regime would know not to use any of the billions of U.S. dollars on terrorism.

"Listen up, folks," Biden said in a brief statement announcing the retaliatory measure. "We're serious. Just as serious as… as serious as… we're just as… we're… well, anyway, in all seriousness. I have personally notified the Iranian government that they are not allowed to use any of this money for terrorism. So, if they're thinking about doing it… I'll just… I'll say… I'm saying… don't."

When reached for comment, a spokesman for the Iranian regime expressed willingness to adhere to the directions of the note. "Ah, yes," the spokesman said as laughter could be heard in the background of the phone call. "The directions are very clear. We will not use any of these billions and billions of dollars to do any of the things we used the last pallet of cash to do. We promise. Thank you, and death to America."

At publishing time, the White House warned Iran that the following shipment of cash pallets would be clearly marked with "PLEASE? PRETTY PLEASE?" notes if they failed to follow the directions of this note.

#the babylon bee #biden #iran

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gateau-au-earl · 12 days

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kuroshitsuji s4e1/ED thoughts

ok yall now that it has been over 24 hrs and I've seen the ep over three times, I have THOUGHTS. mostly very positive, everything was beautful to look at and the 1:1 comparisons between the manga and the anime made me very happy as a veteran kuro fan that had to live through the mess of s1 and s2 plots (even tho they might have a sentimental place in my heart just because of nostalgia).

but i wanted to come on here and yap about the ending theme and how it encapsulates sebastian and ciel's complicated and very interesting relationship. idk abt yall but im a big fan of the op and ed this season!

first things first just to get this outta the way, I dont interpret them as a ship so please dont come in here with that interpretation 👁️ I'm serious .

that being said -

the ending theme is beautiful in both its animation and what it says about the butler and earl's relationship. I'm just gonna get the gushing outta the way first but it was aesthetically GORGEOUS in its animation. the way ciel fell so gracefully and the colors with SID's music is cinematic perfection. the change in animation style is very easy on the eyes as well! gg cloverworks animation team!

this has been marinating for a while, but what really gets me is the scene where ciel falls. he is falling into darkness, when it suddenly becomes lighter, with the sun illuminating the clouds. sebastian "saves" him and they fall together across this very pretty backdrop.

the demon might've caught him, but that doesn't prompt him to rescue ciel, to stop him from falling to his death.

sebas instead gently takes ciel's hand to guide him there. he gives ciel a false sense of security, of trust, catching the boy when he's at his darkest place, but instead of saving him, he drags him to down to his hell. he is deceiving ciel with a beautiful view and promises in their contract that will ultimately hurt ciel. its cruel and will only lead to pain for our earl.

sebas is a demon (obviously) who is leading ciel to his doom, but the path they take is twisted and tragic but strangely beautiful like the gorgeous sky in the ED.

ciel enjoys the power and omnipotence he has with sebastian, knowing full well the demon is leading him to his demise. he knows that this relationship will end him being sebastian's dinner. ciel knows he can't trust sebas, but does anyways because sebas is the only person who can't hurt him until he inevitably does.

the fall might result in an ugly death, but the view is pretty nice on the way down. the beautiful sky colored with deception, manipulation and misplaced trust.

yeah, sebastian will end up hurting ciel the most at the end, but the boy doesn't care at the moment. sebas is the only ""person"" who knows him with all the ugliness of his past, yet still protects him, serves him, and doesn't treat him like a helpless creature. so ciel is forced to place trust in a fundamentally untrustworthy creature knowing he is inches away from the demons bared fangs.

sebastian helps him survive his living hell now and get what he needs to get done, so he doesn't care what happens after. his descent to darkness becomes much more beautiful as a result.

shippers may have one interpretation (which I'm NOT a fan of...), but this is how I see it, and I think it makes this ending all the more impactful and tragic. but here I am, and I'm enthralled by the beauty and can't look away.

anyways, thanks for reading my brain dump, and looking forward to ep 2 folks!!! hope yall liked my micro analysis/semi organized gushing, and r enjoying this kuro renaissance as much as I am! here's a professor michaelis for reading this far

#kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji analysis #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #black butler #shoukuzai sid #professor michaelis #kuroshitsuji public school arc #kuro spoilers #kuroshitsuji s4 #kuroshitsuji ED #do not tag as ship :/#not ship #my two cents do with it what u will #gateau au earl #long post

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