#but the medusa bit pissed me off

[koalas-koalas-everywhere]

Ok, I'm going to say something a bit dodgy, do take into account that my beef is with Rick and not Annabeth.

I might have been tempted to read The Chalice of the Gods (as opposed to anything after Staff of Serapis, which I've given a pass) if I didn't know that, as long as Annabeth is there as well, Percy won't be well-written. More specifically, he won't be written as himself.

When Rick wrote HoO, he had to figure out how to include Annabeth in the seven without having all these other powers dwarf her out. He did this by establishing a strict division of labour, according to which she was the strategist, and no one else. That has never been the case, at least not in such an exacting way.

Percy's saved their butts with his plans at the very least as often as she has. He's outsmarted his opponents, he's manipulated them, he has like a signature move that he pulls in almost every single book that basically goes "forget you're an almighty entity who could probably just ignore me without any problem and get down here and fight me at my level!" (tlt: Ares, Luke (unsuccessfully, since he refuses). som: Luke again (successfully, since he plays on his need to control his army's opinion of him). botl: Antaeus. tlo: Kronos. technically Gaia in son), he's been the one to figure out what they needed to from the prophecies (som: that they needed to send Clarisse to camp. ttc: the thing with Atlas's curse. botl: that Nico was the ghost king. I don't include tlo bc Annabeth figured it out first), he often comes up with the winning plans, like how he was the one who figured out how to get past Cerberus, even if it was Annabeth's expertise that allowed them to pull through (just like it was Percy's skill and weapon that allowed Annabeth's plan for Medusa to succeed) or tangling Antaeus on the ceiling chains. The scene with Chrysaor? Perfect blend of knowledge of myths, strategic genius and pure labia. For all the times we see him lose his cool or speak impulsively, we also se him go "wait, this person is trying to provoke me, I have to chill". I saw a comment a little while ago that Percy should've been dragging Giants to the gods feet for them to finish off -- that's what he did! Only he didn't physically drag them there, he planned them there. He tricked Polybotes into following him to Terminus, into pissing Terminus off so he'd agree to help, then killed him. While it was far from complex, he's the one who came up with the strategy to beat Otis and Ephialtes, so they only had to wait for Bacchus to step up.

I'm not saying Annabeth isn't smart. She has an impressive store of knowledge, which in itself is a clever thing to store, because it matches with her style of managing resources -- be they mental, like her facts, or physical, like her hat or things she finds in her surroundings, like the glass balls in Medusa's lair. Annabeth is probably the best at looking at a situation and going "okay, let's look at what we have. Ah, yes, a limitless credit card. Ah, yes, a store-full of clothes that no one's going to want back. Ah, yes, those weird-ass proteins that Hermes gave us, just like Hermes gave someone else food for a place just like this. Ah, yes, knowledge of how to fly a helicopter."

Here's the thing, though. When I read the phrase "Athena-like chatter", I almost broke something laughing. She's good with lies, hers are better and more believable than her friends'. When it comes to chatter, though... I couldn't even tell you how good she is, because I don't think I've ever seen her do something like that before MoA?

But, you know, okay, Rick has to spend more time in her head, she's been elevated in status to one of several protagonists instead of a deuteragonist as she was in PJO (he has to solve this oopsie - I don't agree with everything here, like how, except for her intelligence, Annabeth's other skills are "dump stats", but...), so he has her expand. Good for her. I think it worked alright in her fights in MoA -- a little bit of the old (impressive expertise in certain areas, management of resources), add a little bit of the new (a perceptiveness and gift of gab that she's rarely shown before, if ever, although you could argue she might have taken the "talk your enemy into beating itself" from Percy just like she learned to simplify from Frank).

That's not my real problem. It's this, from when they're fighting Akhlys:

Percy wanted to give her more time. She was the brains. Better for him to get attacked while she came up with a brilliant plan.

... What. Of everything that we've seen of Percy. That I've described just now. Makes sense with this? And please don't give me crap about "it's because his self-esteem is so low!" because 1) this isn't just about what he's thinking, it's about what he's doing, which is pretty much nothing while he waits for Annabeth to save them. He's never lacked initiative like this. Even while thinking, "wow, this absolutely crazy and dimwitted plan is so bad that it's going to get us all killed!" he still did it. ( 2) I've heard "it's bc of his self-esteem/ he plays dumb on purpose" to justify fandom's constant underestimation of Percy's smarts too many time to let it fly now.)

"It's because he trusts Annabeth's judgement more than his own, and he lets her do what she does best when she's available. Other times he's been forced to come up with a plan, it's because she isn't." Did he wait for Annabeth to shoot her shot with Ares before going in with his own plan? Did he keep quiet his misgivings about her level of preparation for the Labyrinth in BotL? Did he leave her to organize the battle plan in TLO? Did he give up after Chrysaor beat him twice in a sword fight and wait for her to come up with a plan? Absolutely not.

"Well, he still beat Akhlys, so I don't see what you're complaining about, it's not like he's useless or anything." True. It wouldn't be the first time he has to resort to brute force to get past an enemy he couldn't outthink (the telekhines come to mind) or that he never even bothered trying to outthink (Hyperion comes to mind), because it's not like strategizing is something that's essential to Percy's style, even if it does come up a lot. I said before that it's his actions that bother me and not what he was thinking, but there is some of that, too. That he wasn't thinking "I can't figure out what to do" or even too busy fighting to start to wonder about what to do, but "there's nothing I can contribute here but my fighting skills". It's sadly a dynamic that Rick has tried to encourage between them.

Sure, Percy only ever gets more powerful, but, even without Annabeth around, he loses any of his braincells. Look at his underwater fight with Polybotes. He starts off in the ship with an impressive display of power -- holding the ship together in the middle of a supernatural storm. Then he gets underwater and immediately loses to PB. The guy he would've one-shotted several times if he could kill him without a god's help. "He doesn't have experience fighting underwater," water not only gives him a strength boost, it gives him a skill boost, as we see in TLT. Besides, how much skill do you need to not swim directly into a cloud of poison? And really, he doesn't get to do anything but that.

Compare it to SON. He's fighting an almost-whole legion of dead people, with a mix of sword fighting and a whirlwind, and he might have won if they hadn't been able to reform. Recognizing that he was about to lose and to give Frank and Hazel a chance to fight Alcyoneus without having to worry about the army, he brings a whole end of the iceberg down to drown them all. And yet, you know what really struck me of all this? How smart Percy was, because he didn't just fight the legion. He aimed for the eagle, realizing that that would be the best way to keep them focused on him and not Frank.

If he's this capable, though, where does that leave Annabeth, who's a skilled warrior but whose most distinctive trait is thinking?

The whole power/smarts dichotomy is also the actual context of that line about Annabeth being the most powerful demigod. He's just spent two weeks teaching Magnus how to survive at sea, when it suddenly occurs to him that the most helpful thing for him to learn is how to "use what you've got on hand -- your team, your wits, the enemy's own magical stuff." Which is how, despite how often he's done just that, he concludes that Annabeth is the most powerful demigod and the best person to teach him how to survive. (Which is, sadly, all that that comment amounts to. Annabeth doesn't then get a chance to strut her stuff, teach Magnus, show off her smarts, play a part however small in his quest, give some insight into her mind -- nope! She says it was sweet of him and then just leaves with Percy.)

With a bit of luck, RR reread pjo to nail down the feel of it in order to write a book that's supposed to be a tie in for a tv show set in the early days (that's a lot of subordinates!), so he might've rediscovered the characters and found a way to balance that with the... way that he writes them now. I'm not optimistic, though.

(Also, if I have to read more of Percy being always afraid of Annabeth getting angry at him or her looking angry at the smallest of things and this being played as her being a girlboss, or how you "have to keep your boyfriend on his toes", I'll claw my own eyes out, but that's another topic.)

#pjo #Percy Jackson #I don't think this is the case but to cover my bases #anti annabeth chase #anti rick riordan #really

[obeymycok]

MC acts...different in their demon form

Surprise surprise, MC has their own personality and doesn't necessarily act like the brothers when they take on their demon forms. Sins manifest themselves in many different ways so who's to say MC is the same way as the brothers? To make it a little interesting, here's an MC who's avatar demon forms differ VERY much from the actual Avatars of Sin.

Taglist: @trashlord-007 @asmos-slut @simpinginthecorner @thatoneweebsworld @q-ueue

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

TW: Substance abuse in 4th and 7th part

Promiscuous Pride

Ok but MC giving Asmo vibes while rocking Lucifer's demon form is in my head rent free

MC who looks good and fucking KNOWS it

Morning Star Avatar of Pride MC has every right to show off and takes every chance they get

Not only is it an absolute slay but the reactions of the characters is what made me write this

Lucifer's in a tight spot cuz that's MC but it'S HIS FORM😡😮‍💨

Anti Lucifer League especially thinks it's hilarious because it makes Lucifer so uncomfortable and it makes up for MC not using THEIR form

Pompous Greed

Better believe MC shows off every bit of Mammon's power whenever they get the chance to

As smart as they are agile, with the power to control electricity, MC remains undefeated in this form only😎

Mix a bit of Medusa's stare and Midas' touch and you get the ability to turn any living thing into gold by just looking into their eyes

Everyone's jaw is on the floor including Mammon's

That's MC?? With Mammon's power????? low key scared shitless

The brothers are shook

Selfish Envy

Twitch streamer energy I'm sorry

I'd say they give a little Asmo too but mainly the Mammon energy comes out

Streaming mid battle, tiktok dances in the infirmary, really just not good ideas all around

That power tho👀👀👀 devastating

As long as there's water, you basically win

The ability to conjure up storms and hurricanes from a pond AND being able to control the temperature of said water

2 in 1 water and ice power Elsa wishes💅

Besides the display of incredible power, everyone pretty much sees no difference which makes Levi sob in a hole (how DARE they compare him to Mammon✋😔)

Unquenchable Wrath CHANGE

The only thing keeping Nightbringer Satan at bay is being inexplicably stoned (same tho😔💅)

My MC got pissed off after a battle, smoked the devil's lettuce(haha funny) and found ✨THE✨ coping skill

Clever and cunning as ever, this MC is definitely terrifying but most of the time just lacks the will to cause chaos

More often than not, someone has walked in on MC and Solomon just bullshitting with each other and dying of laughter when they were "supposed to meet at the arena 10 minutes ago honestly you should know be-"🙄

No fucks to give because if you lecture the embodiment of wrath for too long...well....👀

When Satan first saw MC lose it in his demon form he was embarrassed of them until he got his head out of his ass and realized "oh shit that me" and offered some of his coping skills for when the anger takes over🥺

Jealous Lust

This one's just a call out to everyone reading this including you and especially me for writing it

Don't get me wrong, this MC is a force to be reckoned with

Asmo's charm spell on top of the agility and strength it takes to swing around with chain swords is absolutely terrifying

Nothing to scoff at just cringe sometimes; at least 1 manga on hand at all times, frequent tumblr user, many things posted on AO3🫠

The brothers burst into the infirmary, MC is sobbing

Could feel the disappointment in the air when MC said their waifu/husbando kissed someone in the latest episode

Please touch some grass, Asmo is begging

Lethargic Gluttony

Right up there with Mammon's form as far as intimidation goes

This MC is definitely a glutton but not necessarily to food like Beel is (sex, substances, sleep, games, whatever)

Probably the most similar to their avatar counterpart compared to the rest of the brothers

Imagine having the ability to rain down a storm of hellfire and just not doing it because it's nap time (oh to be that unbothered✋)

MC does still have a few issues controlling their temper when the gluttony gets the better of them

If MC is in a demon form, Beel's might be one of the scariest, but it's definitely the most chill besides its appearance

Infuriated Sloth

In MC's defense, I would also be constantly enraged if I was always tired and forced to do hardcore anime training

Feral attic gremlin energy all over again, definitely takes some sort of stimulant to stay awake and smokes to unwind

The bad attitude mixed with the stimulants is giving nightbringer Satan on crack

Does the literal bare minimum simply because their weapon does most of the work

Not scary from looks alone but a pissed off MC using their Sloth form is deadly

If MC and Belphie were on bad terms before he worships the ground they walk on now (out of fear😈)

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me worldbuilding #omswd #obeyme #obey me swd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie

[fuck-customers]

I have a medusa tattoo on my upper arm. It's mostly covered up by my uniform, but you can see a bit of it. Most customers don't ask about it -usually only pointing out the more visible ones on my lower arms- and the ones who do don't press for details after I tell them it's personal, but there's one regular who's really starting to piss me off. At first his questions were pretty tame, 'How much did that cost?' 'Where'd you get it done?' 'Did it hurt?' the usual. As of late he's started to get more invasive, asking me what the story is with it. I declined to answer, politely at first but more aggressively now.

Anyone how knows the symbolism of the medusa tattoo knows why that'd be a topic I'm not comfortable discussing with a random customer; regular or not he's still a random stranger. But he hasn't seemed to let that fact sink in.

He keeps asking me for details on why I got it, and no matter how much I tell him I'm not comfortable disclosing that he always tries to ask again the next time I have to serve him. I've even tried giving him a fake excuse like 'Oh maybe I just liked the design' but he said that couldn't be the only reason.

It wouldn't be so weird if he didn't ask constantly or enquired about any of my other ink, but it's just that specific tattoo he's focused on.

Dude gives me the fucking creeps, always trying to get grabby with the cashiers and trying to instigate a conversation even if you're giving him the cold shoulder. He found out I like dogs and insisted on inviting me to his house to show me his dog (I refused obviously). All of this combined with the invasive interest in my SA tattoo is really starting to give me a bad feeling. I've spoken to other coworkers about it and some managers and they all said they'd keep an eye out and I was allowed to refuse service if he did anything that made me uncomfortable.

I understand getting tattoos, especially ones of this nature, is basically an invitation for enquiring questions and normally I don't mind sharing with people I know or politely turning down the ones I don't, but it's the fact he just refuses to drop the fucking subject. Apart from actively avoiding or ignoring him when I do have to serve him I don't know what to do. It's weirding me out and pissing me off to the point I have to physically stop myself from yelling at him to stfu and stop asking every time.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[obstinaterixatrix]

Back again after 43 episodes of Kamen Rider Wizard. 10 more to go. Annoyed by how it feels like 30 episodes of not-very-good fight scenes and dripless villains. These characters are trapped in a mid show where they occasionally get to do good character bits/gags like that part where they're all eating together and asking for rice refills until the pot is empty, and Medusa being so pissed off that Gremlin (annoying in an un-fun way, I detest him) got promoted above her and sabotaged him. (1/2)

The double whammy of finding out boyband face Wizard was a football jock and then finding out Beast was still in college. Speaking of Beast also haunted by the thought that maybe he doesn't generate his own mana bc Chimera ate his inner phantom when he first put on the belt. Also rip Mayu the single claw hand is cool but it cannot save the fact that your suit is beige and you're only in this show for 13 episodes. Clawing at the walls. Good base suits wasted. Release me.

Additional: you know what thought actually it's hilarious that that anime twink Ride Kamens game did an anime boy for Wizard. But not either of the actual Riders. No they picked Phoenix. A midboss that doesn't even make it halfway through the show. Which is so fucking funny.

Additional additional: it is kinda fun to compare the only 2 KR series I've seen so far (Den-O and Fourze are next on the list after I finish Wizard) bc Gotchard is out here like teenager funtimes! Peril isn't super serious! Meanwhile Wizard and Beast regularly get the shit kicked out of them. Beast voice Yuzuru do NOT become a wizard this job fucking sucks.

beast's whole deal makes sense when you think of him as a wacky grad student imo, also I was SOOOO disappointed when mayu got like, a mook suit. IN THE SERIES THAT'S ALL ABOUT COOL SUIT DESIGNS. image vtr. have you watched wizard in magicland, beast is in it

#krwilb #orlbs #ask #writerdragon #beast gets such a fun highlight in the endgame #I love him

[100-yardstare]

I am finally done with Normal 2!! I started the original Normal in 2015 after seeing the movie for the first time, and I loved it so much! Can't believe out of all the fandoms I've ever been in, the POM movie was the one that got me writing a 119k+ fic and an entire sequel. The only other fic I wrote a novel length fic for was for Wreck-it Ralph.

Felt like writing a bit about my process behind the scenes as a way to send it off officially:

I love writing first person, especially self inserts. I can picture myself in situations very easily and my emotions tend to spill out with the perspective.

After reading my fics over a few times and reading some of my reader commentary, I've been told that my insert is "loud" and one time was told I was "obnoxious" and "mean", but tbh viewing the fic by taking a step back and re-reading made me realize this is my loud inner voice and may be attributed to my ADHD!!

Speaking of self discovery, my statements in the fic such as not being able to sweat, fainting, feeling like I might piss myself, etc were supposed to be just funny statements, but in conjunction with my discussion of my inserts "illness" I was actually writing about my dysautonomia before I actually knew what it was! I was diagnosed January 2023, so it's kinda interesting seeing my writing reflect my disability.

I am unashamed of the fact that I wrote Dailey as being a messy relationship that grew and had its ups and downs. I like angst in my ships anyway, so this one was no exception even being a self insert. Dave is a bad guy, and Kailey is, well... me, totally not perfect, weird, working with a bad guy as if she has no choice. They both did really crappy stuff, and THAT'S THE POINT!! I actually wrote a sequel because I knew the ship had a whole lot more to go development wise.

While the first fic generalized a commentary on what it meant to be "normal", when I wrote the sequel I wanted to touch base on different aspects of society, what is normalized, and what it considers beautiful. I write this in outside characters other than my insert, but it manifests in my inserts "turning into a monster" story arc. I am often alienated from being beautiful (how I dress, whether I wear makeup or not), how I behave (my ADHD, my introverted-ness, my emotional disregulation, etc.) my sexuality (I am asexual not interested in sexual relationships), and my physical disability (incapable of keeping up with what is expected of me in jobs, obligations, etc.). In the end the hope is to allow my true self to shine, hence breaking the "curse" of the Medusa Serum in the end.

In extension, my alienation and turning into a monster arc emphasized my negative emotions as being made an outsider or not deemed good enough by society, and how that brings out the worst part of you. I had this resolved by working through this in a relationship because I believe the foundation of mental well being is being part of a community or sharing your burdens with others.

When I decided to make the characters that were turned into monsters with the influence of the QCUs, I was watching Dragon Ball at the same time, and thought the scenes where Goku gets shot and just goes "Oww, that hurts!" without being hurt, was hilarious and ended up putting that trait in my fic.

I probably have a lot more facts in my head that I am not remembering at this moment but here are some of my thought processes for now! I am very thankful for all the support I had writing this fic. Dave and Kailey's story is over from a writing standpoint but I def see there being a lot of open story ideas/extras that I would love to talk about so if anyone is ever interested please shoot me an ask!

#normal #fanfiction #self insert #self ship #dave the octopus #pom #penguins of madagascar #kailey speaks

[borderline-off-fangame]

ababa random things about the game that makes me go a. 

-Little Sam is actually a recycled character from a very old creepypasta I made back in the ye olde days of.. 2010-2012. the story was called ‘the girl with a plush toy’ (original i know), I hated that story and after I left the fandom, I ended up changing the character. So she became Sam!

-Max’s original concept was that he was the adoptive child of Enoch with the ability to transform into whatever being he so desired using a mask he would craft. I forgor about that concept until later on when I found my old stash of art. I might use that concept for someone else haha. 

-Aleyes is based on a nightmare I had when I was young. From what I recall, the nightmare was like a movie or some shit, and it had some.. really wacky visuals, with the last thing I see before waking up crying my ass off was a wall of eyes. And that is how Aleyes was born. 

-Human Seneca’s original variant had a lazy/fixed eye which faced right-side up, was also blind in that one eye. That design was a nod at the original Seneca sprite which had a very big gap between the eyes. 

Which meant that even his human form was not spared from deformity. Of course that was later changed to make him appear.. a little bit normal, but malnourished regardless. 

-Max’s birthday is April 23rd, he happens to share the same birthday as Sam.

-Gabriel’s original design was suppose to be a N. Fowleri variant, a humanoid variant of the brain eating amoeba created for.. well.. overthrowing humanity ofc. that was changed during the remake, where Gabriel is now a golem variant, and the N. Fowleri variant was given to Gabi. Both of them are quite self-aware, and they can exist in the same universe without a paradox occurring. 

-While Max’s gender is up for interpretation (even at one point there was a theory that max had klinefelter syndrome), it’s obv known that he’s very gay for his boyfriend Puff. They have been together for almost 2 years in-game.

-In the future, Max and Puff are adoptive parents to 2 kiddos named April and June. 

-Teen/Adult variant of Sam is a prodigy in music, her favorite instrument is the piano. 

-Aleyes’ human variant (the one with the flesh hair) is loosely inspired from the Greek mythology of Medusa, which makes him the first character with moving hair (second is Mariam)

-Shedder’s original design happened to share an uncanny resemblance to another character from another fangame which I won’t mention (the ye olde design is changed a little bit and appears in the game), the second design was drawn by a friend after we were brainstorming for a potential design, and then Chii came in and slapped my ass with a fresh looking design.

In order

First design, dubbed Copy Cat

Second design, now dubbed Covetous

Final design, now dubbed “The First One”

concept art

The Shedder concept now spans further than my mom’s lasagna, that an entire world exists revolving around said creatures. Won’t spoil it’s intentions doe. 

-Seneca is probably romantically involved with @ethaclone​’s Bug. in which he tries to woo the poor guy into going against his newfound friends at first. Luckily Max tells him to piss off.

-Since Aleyes is a notorious storage unit (and a parasite at that), it begs the question of whether he is able to eat or not... the answer is yes. He may look like a walking stomach, but he’s not greedy about food in the slightest. Nourishment is the least of his worries when he’s spending his time running away from Shedder and it’s Servants.

-Terrorizer was known as Rekt Rabbit (those were the wild years, don’t ask, also the excessive bass version of bones’ ok this is the last time was used as a battle track.. help). Still kept the name Erika. Ofc she was suppose to turn against Shedder, but in the remade version I made her entirely irredeemable. 

-Melon head’s name is Orodemus, that name came out randomly from a follower a few years back, and looking up the meaning of the name doesn’t.. show anything. *shrug*

-Despite Emily’s anxious appearance and personality, she can be very cunning, using her sweet talk as means to take advantage of any situation she befalls in.

-Orchid was originally to be named Hepatica (named after a flower) but changed it to Orchid last minute. In both switches and the pictures, it shows her original name which I cannot bother changing without messing something up in-game, and I am NOT in the mood for that. I also changed Roosevelt’s name, as he was originally named James Rose. He still retains his flowery tails.

#Borderline related #Borderline (off fangame) #Borderline (off spinoff) #off fangame #off spinoff #off (game) #off (mortis ghost)

[soul-dwelling]

In the Soul Eater world, would stage magicians like Chris Angel, Penn and Teller, and David Copperfield be performing in "Witchface"?

...Huh. That's actually a good question I had not considered.

We know from the NOT manga that Kim found it awkward to dress up as a witch for Halloween, in a costume that Jackie made for her. On first look, I thought it was a rather typical Halloween witch costume: the hat, the shawl. However, it only went so far as Kim being a bit confused whether a "real witch" would ever dress up like that, and that's when I noticed the witch outfit had more of a punk aesthetic.

(It also was a witch costume not too far removed from what we have seen Angela, Eruka, and Mabaa wear...as well as that one witch from that one Soul Eater prequel [not Soul Eater NOT, the other one] that I'm not going to talk about because that series can piss off, but now I'm going on a diatribe...)

So, in canon, there doesn't seem to be much of a cultural taboo or evidence obvious to me yet that someone in a witch outfit would be considered imitating the culture and look of someone else. (Granted, I also think this exceeds Ohkubo's field of interest, seeing as he tends to sidestep how problematic details would be if taken to a more believable degree--but, again, after that prequel crap he put out [again, not Soul Eater NOT, the other one] where he just went off the rails and ruined the worldbuilding in Soul Eater, yeah, "Ohkubo didn't think this through" seems to be a common problem.)

That being said, given how irate certain witches like Medusa were with sorcerers like Noah, it's not a major leap to then think that imitating magic with stage magic a la Penn and Teller, etc, could be bothersome. If we saw more of the Soul Eater world in canon, maybe that could've been addressed easily as, "Well, that's just illusions, not real magic, Michael," and that avoids an argument that it's trying to make fun of witches.

So, to finally give some answer to your question: I would imagine, in Soul Eater, that enough people know a stage magician is not the same as a witch, so unless there is a magician actively taking on the attire (like Jackie's Halloween outfit for Kim), customs, iconography, and terminology of witches, people in that setting know enough that a stage magician is not witch-face...but that doesn't preclude that there are very likely some magicians who are taking on the aesthetics and customs of witches for the sake of aping them for laughs, cultural appropriation, and to perpetuate a propaganda campaign against witches, it's just all something we never got to see in Soul Eater.

I'll repeat, Ohkubo really didn't bother to take this to any logical conclusion, and that's a shame, because I can imagine a story where we see how Lord Death and others participate in a wider propaganda campaign than what we have seen yet in canon, where witches are not just accused of crimes we have seen but that it's exaggerated to the point of villainizing all of them, and then we're forced to wrestle with how that propaganda led to demonizing Kim until she doesn't feel welcome at the DWMA, or show how someone like Black Star may have fallen for that hype before confronting Angela. But this isn't the villains in My Hero Academia who get humanized, or Nimona where the "monster" gets humanized--this is Soul Eater, where these kind of complicated story ideas are left for fanfiction.

Instead, we just reduce the entire origin of witches in Soul Eater to some fink from Fire Force (THAT'S THE PREQUEL), dragging down what could have been an engrossing bit of worldbuilding into some pain in the ass who wanted Shinra to get her pregnant.

... ... ...

I wish, like a magician, I could make Fire Force disappear...

#long post #soul eater witches

[middleearthpixie]

Good Trouble ~ Chapter Three

Durin’s Garage AU - Good Trouble ~ Part 3

Modern Spin on The Hobbit

Summary: When your car breaks down, there is only one garage in town - Durin’s Garage and Engine Repairs. And sometimes, they do more than just tune your engine, check your oil, and top off your fluids…

Everyone in town knows Durin’s Garage and Engine Repairs is THE place to go when your car needs work, and everyone knows that Dwalin Fundinson is to be avoided outside of the garage. He’s an ace mechanic, but trouble otherwise.

Your first date is coming, and you’re both a little nervous about it.

Pairing: Modern!Dwalin x reader

Warning: None - just some sweet fluffy fluff

Word Count: 3.8k

Khuzdal translations: Mesmel - my jewel of jewels

Tag List: @tschrist1 @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knitastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @ggfamert @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78

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The flat-bed truck rattled like an empty cracker box as Dwalin steered along Route Seven, which was the main road in and out of town. He had the radio playing loud enough to be heard with the windows open. Ozzy Osbourne’s Mr. Crowley. An oldie but a goodie. 

But, he barely heard the lyrics. Instead, his thoughts kept returning to you. He’d known the frat boy was going to be trouble when the bouncer tossed him last night, and it lay heavily on his mind when he’d paid his bill and left. He couldn’t stop worrying about you, worrying the pissed off kid with the serious attitude would come back and cause trouble for you.

His instinct turned out to be right, as usual, which was why he’d learned long ago to listen to it and trust it. It saved his ass more than once and now, it saved yours as well.

He’d been watching you for weeks now. He remembered the first time he saw you, not quite three months ago when he and Thorin had popped into the Dunraven after work one night. He’d been shocked to see Kelly was gone, and in her place, a woman who stole the breath from his lungs and rational thought from his mind without even trying.

You were tiny, and delicate, and he was sure he could lift you with one arm and when he helped you up from the pavement last night, he realized he wasn’t wrong. You were every bit as tiny and delicate as he imagined. 

And up close, you were even more beautiful than he thought. When you kissed him, he almost couldn’t believe it was really happened. Girls like you didn’t look at guys like him. Girls like you preferred the frat boys, the rich kids with their fancy sports cars and designer clothes, and big, bouffy hairstyles. 

He’d never been so glad to be wrong before.

As he came around a curve, he saw the box truck on the shoulder, its flashers on, and the man he presumed was the driver standing on the far side of the vehicle, looking pissed off. Hard to blame him. It snowed last night, but today the temps were expect to rise into the sixties. A beautiful day, with sunshine and blue skies and no one wanted to be stranded on the side of the road in weather like this. 

He rolled to a stop ahead of the box truck and climbed down. “Dwalin from Durin’s Garage and Engine Repair,” he called, slamming the door to the black cab shut. “Ye called for a lift?”

“Yeah. Son of a bitch crapped out on me.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“Do I look like a mechanic?”

“Easy,” Dwalin held his hands up, palm out. “Some guys know enough. What happened?”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “It began running rough about five miles back, at the rest stop. Then, when I got here, it up and died and now it won’t start. And I gotta be in Jamesburg by three.”

“Yer not making Jamesburg by three,” Dwalin replied, shaking his head. “Ye might want to call and let them know.”

The man sighed as he dug his cell from his front jeans pocket. “Son of a bitch!”

While he dialed and then complained into his Galaxy, Dwalin moved back to the flatbed, climbing into the cabin to start the hydraulics to lower the ramp. As it moved into place, he climbed back out, emergency triangles in one hand and road flares in the other, and set them out behind the box truck. He lit three of the flares to place parallel to the box truck as well. A few months ago, a driver in the next town had gotten killed trying to hook up a disabled vehicle, so Dwalin took no chances. 

Then he set to work hooking up the cables to draw the box truck onto the bed, climbed up into the box truck itself to set the transmission into neutral, and then return to the black flatbed again to winch it in and lock it into place. 

“Ye can ride with me,” he called to the man still yelling into his cell. The man just waved him off, and as Dwalin turned, he held his hand in front of his chest, middle finger extended, then moved to gather up the triangles, extinguish the flares, and climbed back in behind the flatbed’s wheel.

Finally, the man graced him with his presence, climbing up into the passenger seat and throwing himself down with a heavy sigh. “How far is the service station from here?”

“Not quite two miles,” Dwalin replied, turning over the engine and eased the transmission into first gear. As they slowly rocked back onto the road, he added, “Ye’ll have the best mechanics in the state working on this and it’ll be up and running before you know it.”

“Great. Too bad I’ll miss my drop-off time, which means I get to eat the inventory in there.”

Dwalin looked over at him. “Unfortunately, there’s nothing I can do about that. But, it beats standing out on the side of the road. There’s a diner across the street where ye can get a bite to eat while Thorin or Kili takes a look.”

“Wonderful.”

Dwalin depressed the clutch, shifted into second, and then third, and little by little, worked his way up through the gears. There wasn’t much traffic out this morning, at least, not until they crossed the town line. Then the road grew clogged and he had to downshift. 

As Durin’s Garage came into sight, he slowed further, and carefully maneuvered the flatbed back into the lot, lining it up with the bay on the far right, which was recently vacated by a green Audi. They jerked back and forth slightly as he crept back, eyes trained on his mirrors. 

Then, they stopped and the air brakes hissed as they decompressed. The man climbed down as Thorin came out of the bay, wiping his hands on an oil-stained rag. “This the truck from Seven?”

 Dwalin nodded as he jumped down. “Yeah. I told him to go grab a bite across the street.” He nodded at the man, who was already halfway across Main Street. “He’s a real friendly sort.”

“The two of you must’ve got on great, then,” Thorin drawled, tucking the rag into the pocked of his Carhartt jumpsuit. 

“Funny.” Dwalin climbed up to begin unhooking the box truck. “So, how was yer night?”

Thorin grinned. “I’m not kissing and telling. Yours?”

“Ye know that bartender from the Dunraven?”

“The little one?” Thorin waited for him to nod, then said, “Yeah. What about her?”

Dwalin smiled and said, “Took her for a ride on my bike this morning.”

Thorin’s grin widened. “‘Bout time, my friend.”

“Yeah, well, I’m taking her out tonight. Dinner, I think. We’re going to the Nest. That’s not too dive-y, is it?” He unhooked the last cable, then moved to climb down. “Get in and I’ll lower ye.”

Thorin climbed up into the cab. “Dive-y?”

“Yeah.” Dwalin paused at the controls to lower the bed and unwind the winch, “ye know, the kind of place that ye'd find me, but would be surprised to find her there. I don’t think she does dive bars on her off days.”

Thorin shook his head. “She doesn’t do them on her work days, either. The Dunraven may be many things, but a dive bar is not one of them.”

“Do ye think she’ll like it?”

“I don’t know. She’s your date!”

Dwalin waited for Thorin to get settled, then he lowered the bed and set the winch to unspool while Thorin maneuvered the box truck carefully into the bay. Once the flat bed was empty, Dwalin rerolled the winch and set there be flat once more and then climbed back into the cab. But before he could put it into first, Kili came out of the office. “We got another one for you, Dwalin. A Chevy Suburban out on Kilmer that has no brakes.”

Thorin came out of the garage. “Not Abrams again.”

“‘Fraid so,” Kili grinned at him, “and she asked that you do the work yourself, Thorin.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve got plans for tonight and they do not involve Miss Abrams or her fucking SUV.”

Dwalin shook his head as Kili turned toward him. “I’ve also got plans, junior. This one is yers or Fili’s. I’ll go get her, but I’m droppin’ her in yer lap.”

Usually, on your off day, you ran all the errands you didn't have time to do during the days when you worked. Your normal shift was noon to ten, although sometimes on weekends you did six to two in the morning, when the Dunraven closed. 

And today was no exception when it came to those damned errands. You went to the bank, to the post office, returned a couple of library books before they were late, and as you came out of the library, you saw a big, shiny black flatbed with with words Durin’s Garage written in elegant gold script on the door, and caught sight of Dwalin behind the wheel. Your heart gave a weird little leap and your belly twisted in a way that reminded you of when you were in middle school and saw the boy you’d been crushing on all marking period. It’d been a long time since you felt those maddening butterflies, since just the sight of the guy you crushed on was enough to unleash them.

It had been such a wonderful night, even if you didn't get much sleep as a result. It was hard to complain, since good sex was absolutely worth a little sleep deprivation. 

He wanted to take you to the Nest. You’d never been there before and had no idea what it was like. What was the dress code? Casual? Formal? There were restaurants of all stripes in town, so neither one was too far out of the realm of the possible. 

And that left you in a quandary.

What did you wear? 

 This was the finest of lines you could walk. Too fancy, and he might think you a snob. Too causal, and you risk offending him by showing him you didn't think he would take you to a nice restaurant. Your relationship was so new, you had no idea how easily offended he might be, or how sensitive he might be about certain matters. The last thing you wanted to do was have him think you were judging him and finding him lacking, and the last thing you needed was him doing the same to you.

When you returned home, you had three more voice mails from your father. All were erased, unheard, and you sat on your sofa, cell phone in hand, trying to work up the nerve to call Dwalin. You hadn’t had this many butterflies in your belly since you were twelve and trying to call Jeff Moretti to ask him to borrow his science notes. Which was silly, really, because you already knew Dwalin wanted you to call him, already knew you would see him later.

And yet, you couldn’t make your fingers see reason. 

“Oh, you are such an ass,” you muttered, tapping the phone lightly against your forehead. “Just. Call. Him.”

It took you several more minutes of arguing with yourself before you finally pulled up the keypad and dialed. Another minute to hit send. Then you waited.

“The caller you have dialed is not available. At the tone, please leave a message. Thank you.”

You rolled your eyes and at the beep, said, “Hi there, it’s me. I was just calling to see how your—ah—day was going because I—um… I saw you out on the highway and I just thought it’d—it’d be—ah—nice to just say hi. So, hi?”

You winced as you hung up. You tried so hard to sound breezy and casual and you ended up sounding like a total tool. Well, maybe he’d think it was cute. Maybe.

You tossed your phone onto the coffee table and padded down the hallway to your bedroom. One of the selling points of your apartment was the size of the walk-in closet in your room. It was almost a small room in and of itself, and while you tried to keep it neat, sometimes your inner Oscar Madison came roaring to life and it looked like your closet vomited clothes everywhere.

With a sigh, you went back out to the living room to retrieve your phone and Googled the Nest to peruse its website. Casual. Jeans and a nice top would be just fine.

This time, the phone landed in the middle of your bed and returned to the closet, where you stood in the middle of it, forefinger pressed to your lips, and studied everything hanging neatly, arranged first by season, then by color. Winter was coming, although it was nearly sixty degrees outside now. By tonight it would be back in the thirties, most likely. Dwalin rode a motorcycle.

You were going to freeze. It didn't matter what you wore. You were doomed to becoming a popsicle. 

Of course, you did get to hold onto Dwalin, and that was nice. But, if your arms snapped off like icicles because of the cold, you’d not only fall off his bike, but you’d probably shatter when you hit the pavement as well. Not exactly a comforting thought.

But you’d worry about later. For now, you had to find the right thing to wear. Nothing too casual, nothing too fancy, nothing too boring, but nothing too sexy, either. First dates were a bitch to begin with, but this was worse when you’d already gone to bed with Dwalin. Now, it didn't really matter to a certain extent what you wore, because he’d already fucking seen you naked. 

Still, you chose and rejected about a dozen different outfits and jumped when the buzzer went off. You darted down the hallway to the living room before he thought you’d changed your mind about everything, and hit the intercom button, “Dwalin?”

“It’s me, yeah. Ye expecting someone else?”

“No. Of course not.” You rolled your eyes. “Sorry, it’s habit. Come on up.”

You pushed the button that would unlock the double glass doors in the vestibule, and waited for the knock on the front door, tugging it open when it came. “I’m here, sorry about that.”

He smiled. “Sorry about what?” 

“Just.. uh…” you winced, “everything? It’s been a long day. Come on in.”

He stepped inside and let out a low whistle. “Damn… This makes my place look like a dump.”

“Oh, stop it, your place is perfectly nice and you know it.” You closed the door behind him, leaning against it as you watched him take in the large living room, which was almost twice the size of the one in his apartment. You flinched again, trying to see it thorough his eyes and being hopelessly embarrassed by it. His apartment offered up warmth and hominess, but yours? Yours was cold and impersonal, the arctic white walls and dark gray trim chosen by the interior decorator your father hired, not you. But since it technically wasn’t your apartment, changing it was out of the question. If he saw it, you’d never hear the end of it. 

“I don’t know,” he said, gesturing to the dark gray sectional sofa that almost perfectly matched the trim. “This looks like something out of a magazine.”

You sighed, pushing away from the door. “It’s my father’s doing. He chose everything about it from the paint colors to the location. He wanted me to be safe because he—he worries. You know how fathers can be. Always afraid I’ll be murdered in my own bed.”

“I don’t have any sisters.” He stared up at the painting hanging over the fireplace. “Only a brother and our father never worried we’d be murdered in our beds.” 

He glanced over one shoulder at you. “Is that ye?”

Heat flooded your cheeks as you slowly nodded. The portrait was of you and your parents, done when you were still a gawky teenager and you hated it but if you took it down, the next time your father came to call, you knew you’d hear about it. So the ugly duckling stayed on the wall.

“Ye were cute.” He turned to you, shrugging out of his heavy leather jacket tp drape it over the arm of the sofa. 

“Cute? I look like a troll there.”

“Nah,” he crossed over to you, arms folded as he peered down at you, “A goblin, maybe, but not a troll.”

“Oh, that’s much better,” you drawled, rolling your eyes, “thank you.”

“Lucky for ye, I’ve a soft spot for goblins.”

“You know, I don’t think I want to go out with you tonight.”

A low chuckle rolled your way and he caught your cheeks between his palms. “It sounded better in my head.”

“It should’ve stayed there.” You couldn’t resist smiling as his thumbs swept along your cheekbones. They were so light, so gentle, you almost couldn’t feel it, but with each graze, you seemed to grow a little warmer. No man ever had this effect on you before. He only had to gaze at you with those piercing blue eyes, and your heart skipped a beat, your blood warmed by several degrees, and an unfamiliar heat swelled between your legs. 

His cologne touched your nose—a sexy combination of sandalwood and hints of patchouli—and that only made the heat warmer still. He also looked almost edible in faded Levi’s and a black henley, which he’d left unbuttoned enough to allow a hint of silver-tipped chest hair to peek up.

He leaned toward you, his lips soft and teasing when they met yours. On their own, your fingers curved about his massive forearms, your lips parting at the slight pressure of his tongue against them. His fingers stretched into your hair, his kiss deepening as his tongue skimmed along yours, as it teased yours with a slow, silken caress. He absolutely knew how to kiss, knew just how to tease and taste and stroke to start a low, pleasant hum through your body. As his lips moved so softly against yours, your hips arced toward his, sought out that part of him that just made you want to melt at his feet. 

You slid your hands down his forearms, eased your arms about his waist, your heart skipping a beat when he pulled away. “We should go now, mesmel,” his whisper was low and growly, “for if I keep kissing ye, we are not leaving this apartment.”

His kiss, his words, left you somewhat breathless. “Mesmel?”

He brushed your lips once more, then stepped back. “Ye wouldn’t believe me if I told ye.”

“Try me.”

“Later.” He picked up his jacket to shrug into, then added, “Ready?”

“Dwalin,” you leveled a long look at him, “what does it mean?”

He looked about. “Where is your coat?”

“Dwalin!”

A hint of color appeared along his cheekbones above his bushy dark beard and he took a deep breath before saying, “It means my jewel of jewels.”

That was not what you expected and you just stared at him for a long moment, your face growing warm. No one ever said anything remotely similar to that to you. “In… what language?”

Draping the leather jacket over his arm, he said, “Khuzdul. It’s an old language, passed down through my family for generations. Not many speak it these days.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“You wouldn’t. As I said, it’s almost a dead language.”

“But you speak it? Fluently?”

“I do, yes.” He shrugged into his jacket. “If ye like, I can teach ye some of it.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I did, mesmel. 

“Mesmel.” You smiled then, moving to stand before him, a hand resting on his chest. “Is that how you see me? Already?”

“It’s how I’ve seen ye since the first time I saw ye, if that makes any sense.”

“It does.” 

“I told ye I wanted to ask ye out for a long time. Just never had the balls to do it before now.” He glanced down at the long, black wool coat you’d draped over the sofa arm earlier. “We should go.”

Before you could reach for it, he swept the coat up and held it out for you. With a smile, you shrugged into it and then spun about to brush his cheek with a kiss. “I’m glad you finally found the balls, Dwalin.”

He grinned. “Makes two of us.”

You locked the door behind you and led him to the elevator. Once you were outside, you shivered as the wind had picked up to send leaves scuttling along the sidewalk, but as you scanned the parking lot, you didn't see the Harley. “Where’s your bike? 

“Ye didn’t think I’d actually make ye ride on the back of it in this weather, did you?” He dug a set of car keys from his jacket pocket and led you over to a sleek, black Corvette Stingray. You looked up to find him grinning at you.

“So, wait.” You gestured toward the Corvette. “This is yours, but you walked to the bar last night anyway??

“Yeah. I don’t mind walking. Especially in the snow. I'd rather walk than risk cracking this up. It took me two years to restore her.”

“Wait? You did this?” 

He nodded. “Yeah. I work with cars, remember?” 

“Well, I know, but... damn…” You took in the Stingray's sleek lines and mint-condition. “What year is this?” 

“Seventy-five.” 

“Dwalin.”

“What? I really don't mind being out in the cold. This is my time of the year, so I’m perfectly fine with walking in it.”

“You’re nuts.”

“So I’ve been told.”

You nodded at the ’Vette. “And this is yours?”

“It’s mine.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “And here I thought I’d be freezing my ass off hanging onto you on the back of a motorcycle.”

“Do I look that crazy? It’s too damn cold to ride at night now. But,” he draped an arm about your neck and pulled you close to brush your lips with before growling, "when the weather gets warmer, yer going to be hanging on to me very chance we get.” 

“I don’t think I’ll mind that all that much,” you told him, smiling as he kissed you again. “I kind of like the feeling of holding on to you.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

He grinned, pulling back. “Let’s go, before they give our table away and we end up sitting near the kitchen.”

#The Hobbit #Dwalin #Dwalin Fundinson #Hobbit Fic #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction #AU #Dwalin Fic #Is it hot in here? #Dwalin x reader #Dwalin short fic #modern au #garage au #stay tuned #more to come

[xian-1502]

Topical post: days are rolling by. at variable pace.my thoughts are cycling the same track of sorts. So i’m mostly set on what i’m getting, however i failed to account that i am aggressively average at wrapping and presentation. Was so sure i got the hardest part out of the way just to curb myself again. I’ll see what i can strap together. Also i gotta pack, so i can see how i’ll arrange all my stuff and all that jazz. Lest i be halfway to hell on the midnight of black trying to play reverse “unpacking: the video game” i’ll figure something out at least. Probably.

I have an odd mix of anticipation, anxiety, and excitement with this upcoming trip. Concerned about flights and potential mishaps, curious about innumerable things, and excited to have the 1 week trial. It’s a hurricane of feelings but it’s nothing i think i have to be particularly wary or conscious of. pretty normal tbh, this bananas.

Been thinking a great deal about how i want my hair. Originally i was gonna dye it on my birthday but i just retwisted and washed it and it’s like, i do NOT wanna do ts again. so its gotta wait for after my next wash, which might actually be soon i could possibly get dye it on my birthday, and then go to the concert with and trip with that hair. Then with styling, idk if i want twist, braid, or curl/knot out. Unfortunately imo they’re inversely proportional to how good i think they look on me, and how easy they are to do/keep for a while. TO’s with two strands are super easy but like, i kinda don’t like that twist out too much? it’s really whatever to me. BO’s though, they give a Wayyyyy better result in the wave pattern, love the way they come out and stay, they give locs an organic cute squiggle as opposed to the craig sharp coil from a TO. CO’s clear so easily on the looks chart though. They start of tight like a loose medusa-esque curl, then they unravel over time and set into this perfect sort of fall and flick up/around sort of look on the hair. a sort of perfect storm in good looking messy hair. but the knots, curls i have to do are so tedious and also hard to make sure they stay in place. Also they make me look like i never got locs. While i can appreciate that look a bit , i think i (and most people) look way better with longer hair. I’ll figure it out ig, but sitting somewhere between the braid and curl/knot style. Really wanna try those and see how long they last now that i have this mousse.

Wondering what kind of in between and lounge activities will be done. What games/shows watched aside from the expected. How/where’s the “whatever” lie down time and a lot gonna be. How late are we gonna wake up or stay up. And will i be physiologically pacific in that regard as well? or do i just adapt with the sunlight since it’s close enough. Nothing i know, but spend too much time trying to picture. Considering it’s coming right up and i don’t need to waste the film in my cranial imax screeening(radical dome).

Not much else i really think i’ve been thinking about( memorably) between my free time at least. Mostly ricocheting between thinking about work and school, and then making sure i’m on time for those and my other stuff. So sometimes i don’t get to spend time discerning what all this means in my head. Like today i clocked out and was like “ ah free to think about whatever” and my first thought was that i’m gonna be back in 12 hours 😭. The cheese is slipping off my cracker. Big cum is cracking my shell and they’re gonna make me a garden variety best buy geeky gooner (crazy chain of words and false trait attribution)

Regardless, these are my thoughts i think (some windbag, idk). that’s all folks like that guy from the luney toon

Pisses me off how sega sound team and sonic game design team make such godly music and concepts and then the publishing and commercial teams just grind it into the fucking ground with branding, exclusivity deals, arbitrary time crunches.

Shout out to my hero( my goat( tails but sonic by association ) is NOT washed)

#Spotify

[maguro13-2]

Justice for All ~ Origins of the Ink Demon Chapter 2 Pt.6

"Back in the early 2000s..."

Shotaro the Dokeshi : Hey, guys. Get a load of this.

Mana Hinoki : Hmmm...This weird place. What's going on here? What's with all this..."Technology"?

Yohei Nanami : What's this "Giant Robot" doing here underneath a city in Nevada like this? Huh? Who's this Deathscythe Hell robot?

Shotaro the Dokeshi : Now, I understand what really created the weapons for. Someone has been collecting souls to power up a giant robot for it's energy. Who could've stolen a machine that isn't theres?

Death the Kid [o.s] : So...You three saw it, didn't you? But I know how to make it all up for you.

[the gang turns and sees someone in shocked]

Shotaro the Dokeshi : Oh no! It can't be...Y-You!

[TV BUZZING]

"The Present Day..."

Marie Mjolnir : Oh, phooey! I can't believe that Asuza would go off and leave me behind! It's no fair that a woman at this height, makes me wanna go smash a toilet, a human toilet. I hope the Mario Bros doesn't stick their plungers in my...(shivers) Brrr! I feel like that I'm the smart one to think that being a woman in Oceania that doesn't make the count. Oh, Well, I better what's on the front page now on today's news. [drinks a bit of her coffe while looking at a newspaper, but then spits out] *coughing* What the...?

[NEWSPAPER : FRANKEN STEIN DEAD IN TOKYO]

Marie Mjolnir : "Franken Stein Dead in Tokyo"?! How could Franken Stein be dead like this? He's not dead, he's been murdered! [reads the newspaper] "The body of local teacher/Meister and former doctor has been found dead in the Tokyo Area after a mysterious masked black figure from the 20th century has assassinated him with an Axe." So I'm starting to bother that the reason Franken Stein hadn't been shown his face in Tokyo, because he was assassinated by a man called Sammy Lawrence! Aha! So that's what Franken Stein was after Medusa, The real Franken Stein was killed and assassinated by Sammy because he was going find out the truth about Soul World, which is part of the Legacy, and "Sammy" wants someone to destroy the Legacy created by Shinra. What the hell have we've been fighting for? Hmm? [sees Eruka walking out of the cafe.] Hey, isn't that one of Medusa's goons that used an injection needle to revive Shinra's grandson? Maybe I go need to tell froggy about this. [gets up from table and walks up to Eruka] Hey, excuse me, ma'am. I need to talk?

Eruka Frog : Who the hell is it? [realizing] Oh sh*t! It's one of the good guys! Darn! I mustn't let Shinra's pawn get to incarcerate me in Louisiana! I don't want to go back to Louisiana! [Marie grabs hers hand]

Marie Mjolnir : Look! What's your problem, frogger? I'm not going to incarcerate you in Louisiana. I'm just want to ask you about the incident happening in Nevada. Do you know why on earth did you revive Shinra's grandson? And what did you use Ink to revive him?

Eruka Frog : Ngh! Piss off, Toilet smasher! [runs off]

[Theme of Saigoh - Kenichi Tokoi]

Marie Mjolnir : Gah! Hey, come back! [runs off to chase after Eruka] Hey, I'm not done with you, yet!

Eruka Frog : *panting*

Marie Mjolnir : Hey, I said come back here! Hey stop! Where do you think you're going!? Hey, stop, damn you! I said stop!

Eruka Frog : Oh god!

[the two jumps on the cars to get across]

Marie Mjolnir : Sorry! Pardon me! Excuse me, sir!

Eruka Frog : *panting* Can't loose to her! Gotta get somewhere to find...[gasped in shock as a she sees a trucking coming by, causing her stop] Woaaah! *THUD* Oof! [turns and sees Marie Mjolnir] Aah! Please forgive me! I'm sorry for what I ever worked with that Doppelganger! I won't do it again! I promise!

Marie Mjolnir : I want answers now! What did you do with the Ink that was inside Asura's body? Where is it?

Eruka Frog : Ah...I...I don't have it anymore! I used it all up!

Marie Mjolnir : Cut the crap, you idiot! [grabs her by shirt]

Eruka Frog : Please! I'm sorry! Forgive me for what we've done!

[scene changes to the alley]

Eruka Frog : Hey, man! I am very sorry! It turns out that the Medusa I know has been a fake all along and the real one used us to revive the grandson of the Kusakabe, in which we witches got involved as the baddies! But please, don't hurt me! I've got a family back home in the Louisiana Bayou! Please, you gotta understand a witch knows best! It's not like that I've witnessed a crime or anything!

Marie Mjolnir : that's your problem of putting our planet in danger because of that Heartless Doppelganger you worked with, but I still need answers about the Ink you used to revive Asura Kusakabe!

Eruka Frog : Look, you want something!? Well, I got something for ya! Ink? You want something that is Ink? Here! Takes this bottle of black ink, it will definitely think it's the blood that Medusa created with.

Marie Mjolnir : This is regular ink, I don't want any of that stuff. Go buy you some paint or something.

Eruka Frog : Look! That's all I have that I got something for ya! I'm planning to leave this entire and god forsaken country, see look at me, I'm broke, I'm bankrupted, I'm officially cleaned out of my pockets! And there's more where that came from, I don't know if there was ink inside of Asura's body, the ink inside of the madman's body would eventually turn into a monster! A really big monster, who has the heart of a heartless bastard!

Marie Mjolnir : Quit your whining! And tell me! [pushes Eruka against the wall] Who was that man with a mask that killed the real Franken Stein, The man that I have been with for 13 years!?

Eruka Frog : That man? I don't who that masked creep is, but I believe that he had a connection with the Gorgon Sisters, the real ones that were captured by those Keyblade Wielders and detectives! More importantly, the Gorgon Sisters that the good guys putting their hatred were actually bunch of heartless doppelgangers, a diversion orchestrated by Ansem just to lure them out to the Darkness.

Marie Mjolnir : Ansem? The Seeker of Darkness? Where the hell is that heartless bastard?!

Eruka Frog : Can't tell him for sure, they'll burn me if I told you the answer to seek the truth! You might not just know to seek those answers to all to the truth.

Marie Mjolnir : And where is this Sammy Lawrence's residence that he has been hiding from the public for many years!?

Eruka Frog : I know where he and the Ink Demon bodily fluid came from. I heard that one of Medusa's Lair is connected to Joey Drew Studios, a 20th century cartoon studio that was closed for years after a tremendous accident due to Sammy Lawrence's work on the project that he was developing the demon. Medusa gets all the ink from Sammy that was part of the project they both worked on. If you ever step foot into that studio, you'll be food for his creation of a demon!

Marie Mjolnir : If the Ink and Black Blood was part of a project that closed down the studio, then why was Crona involved with it?

Eruka Frog : Because that kid was part of an experiment, in which he was the second subject to become an Ink Demon, and the last ones should be next. If that happens, then this whole planet is done for! [releases Eruka] Aaah!

Marie Mjolnir : So, Sammy Lawrence was behind all of this. Can't believe that I seek the truth, and finding out that this was all setup by Shinra Kusakabe, that unbelievable bastard! Why would anyone would not let us seek the truth? Why would they hide everything? Maka's mother knew that she was the only woman, who could really spread truth to the world. And now, I must make moves before this could happened to humanity. I just know where the next clue might lead to. [looks at her cellphone] Hmm? I better make a call about this.

~ Twenty-First Scene : Operation : Mad Clown Pt.2 ~

#super mario bros #super smash bros #warioware #bendy and the ink machine #soul eater #soul eater not #fire force #enen no shouboutai #marie mjolnir #eruka frog #sammy lawrence #nintendo #hal laboratory #square enix #joey drew studios #crossover #drama #dark comedy #horror #mystery #thriller #supernatural #dark fantasy #sci-fi #adventure #action #crime

[excaliburofficial]

How Feral the Soul Eater Kids Are: Ranked (from Least to Most)

8. Soul Eater Evans

Soul is in the clear. He wants everyone to think he's feral but he's only like a tiny bit feral if even. The most feral thing he ever did was run away from home and ride a motorcycle. Other than that he keeps pretty calm and rational even in the worst situations even with the spooky demon guy in his brain telling him to be a reckless hoe. Do you think that's easy? No!

Even times when he is feral seems to 100% be because of others. Do you really think this guy would have fought a grim reaper on his own without the input of his buddy Black*Star? No! He is far too hinged.

Feral Rating: 0/5 Diagnosis: Not Feral

7. Liz Thompson

Yes she MAY have planned to long con a grim reaper but given what she was coming from that doesn't seem THAT unhinged. What did she have to lose really? And she succeeded in getting a better life either way so it worked out. Good for her.

Feral Rating: 1/5 Diagnosis: Feral by Circumstance

6. Tsubaki Nakatsukasa

Is mostly in the clear but with caveats. She willingly paired up with Black*Star and willingly goes along with his shit completely unconditionally. Yeah she might sit there and tell Black*Star that his ideas are dumb and reckless or outright dumb, but he doesn't listen and she knows this, and then she just goes with it anyway. Feral behavior.

But credit where credit is due, Tsubaki is very level headed and thinks things through and is clearly thinking things through when she does them, even the more feral things. Seems like she has a plan for Black*Star and is in it for the long haul.

Feral Rating: 1.5/5 Diagnosis: Feral by Proxy

5. Crona Gorgon

Crona is hard to pinpoint because we see them go through so much, but without Medusa's influence they seem pretty hinged actually! Sure, they have a lot to work through, but that's just because of how much they've been through and how scared they are. Who wouldn't be?!

We see that Crona doesn't want to hurt people or do bad things, and that they really just want to care for their friends and recover. They still have a lot to work through, but I believe that they can get there someday! (fuck off manga Crona arc we don't want you here)

Feral Rating: 3/5 Diagnosis: Work in Progress

4. Black*Star

Black*Star is pretty feral and he knows it. Like, dude straight up wants to murder god and then fucking tries it multiple times and when he screws it up is like "Ya know what?? I'll get tehre one day I just gotta beef up a bit" and then he does it?!??!!? Does he even think about it?! No! He doesn't have time for that!!

But ya know credit where credit is due, Black*Star may be inexplicably tied to the idea of surpassing a literal god, but ya know what he gets there. That requires some serious forethought and unwavering resolve there so points to him for that. Still feral but he's making it work for him.

Feral Rating: 3.5/5 Diagnosis: Feral (Ego Type)

3. Maka Albarn

Now I know what you're thinking "Is Maka really more feral than Black*Star?" and the answer is yes 100% absolutely. While she may seem pretty normal on the surface but that's where she gets you! She is unhinged!! She has absolutely no sense of self preservation!!! Or common sense!!!! Do you think Maka sees a serial killer in an alleyway and doesn't stop and think "Hmmm maybe this is dangerous and I should leave"? No! Of course not!! She sees this serial killer and thinks "I'm gonna kick his ass!" and then does it!!! No thoughts! Only destruction! She might look like this tiny twiggy perfect student but let me assure you that Maka is unhinged af and would fight someone to death for a Klondike bar if they pissed her off enough. (Which is easy to do because she's always pissed.)

Also what the fuck is that green juice she downed before studying?! Feral behavior.

Feral rating: 4/5 Diagnosis: Feral (Destructive Type)

2. Death the Kid

Unhinged. Batshit. Absolute fucking madman. Perfection and order my ass this guy would break every bone in your body twice for not putting the dishes in alphabetical order and then double over in tears about it because he didn't break your bones in the right order and is therefore terrible. Then Liz will show up and say "This is dumb lmao you should stop" and then he will and it'll be like none of it ever happened. He won't think twice about it and he probably didn't even think about it once honestly. Does he have a strict moral code? Yes! Does it make sense to literally anyone else? No! He will give you a nice long lecture on balance and protecting humanity and then immediately run you over with his skateboard. His to-do list is a mile long and he keeps erasing important meetings for shit like "rearrange the bathroom". Kid has like 8 priorities maximum and you are not one of them.

It's through sheer luck that any of us are alive at all.

Feral rating: 5/5 Diagnosis: Feral (Terminal Type)

1. Patty Thompson

Little known fact but there was actually going to be a whole arc where Patty had a little demon dude in her head of her own but Ohkubo scrapped it because he realized that the demon would be absolutely terrified of her power and leave. The only reason she didn't go and murder Asura to pieces on the moon was because Liz stopped her, not because she was scared for Patty's safety but because she was like "Yo Patty I think you're gonna destroy the moon if you do that." This was all the original plot of Soul Eater until Ohkubo changed it. (This is real I promise do you really think I would make up something like that? /j)

Not only is she unhinged but she never had a hinge to begin with. Does she know that she is unhinged? Does she care? We will never know. We probably don't want to.

Feral rating: 666/5 Diagnosis: Feral (Primordial Type)

#soul eater #wrennstoptalking

[agerestorybits]

Hair??

Janus wore his hat for a reason. That reason being...snakes for hair. Medusa style.

Normally he took good care of them, and himself. But lately he has been busy. Too busy to do more than feed them before they get put under his hat again. He was planning to take the night off. Something he was happy to do, when he heard everyone else was going to watch a movie he went to take a bath and relax.

Everything that fine, at least until he found out that his hat was missing. To be honest he was feeling a bit fuzzy for awhile. He was relaxing into his regression so it made since that he misplaced his hat. He didn’t NEED it when he was alone, but he still wanted to know where it was.

He was panicked and pissed off by the time he peeked into the living room and found Roman with it. He put a towel over his snakes before storming in and snatching it back. “Don’t touch my shit!” He snapped at him before retreating to his room.

He heard them muttering to each other after he left. It prevented him from relaxing. Had they seen something? He knew a couple of his snakes had hissed back when Virgil had hissed at him.

He removed the towel and took a deep breath. It was fine. He raised a hand and felt several of his darlings nuzzle against his hand. He giggled a little at the feeling. Wasn’t prepared for the loud gasp from behind him or to be turned around by the shoulders by a half naked Remus. (the only reason he was half covered why that Janus made it a rule for going into his room.)

“Jan you didn’t tell me about these!” Remus said excitedly as he took in the snakes. They weren’t just gold, there was a full rainbow of colors.

Janus huffed and crossed his arms. “I don’t need ta talk bout em!”

Remus was busy poking them, or rather booping their snouts. “Cuties.”

Janus couldn’t argue with that. They WERE cute. “Yeah.”

“So that’s why you wear that hat all the time!” Remus said happily. “You should let them out more.”

Janus could hear his snakes agreeing to that idea. “Maybe.”

Remus started rambling about dangerous snake facts, and a few gross ones. Janus relaxed. They sat on his bed petting the snakes for a while before Janus dozed off.

----

It was a long time before they were brought up again. One because Remus was easily distracted by things best not thought about and Janus wasn’t eager to tell everyone else about his snake hair.

He was little, at the dinner table and trying so hard not to let anyone know. He never let them take care of him when he was little solely because he didn’t want them messing with his snakes.

But…

“It’s a good hat! I should get myself one!” Roman said snatching it off his head before dropping it with a yelp at the snakes. Janus glared at Roman cutting him off from whatever insulting nickname he was about to say.

“Yes! I have snakes.” Janus said standing.

“They are so cool too!” Remus said dropping the collection of forks that he was tying together. “Watch this!” He threw a piece of potato Janus’ hair and it caught it eating it.

“Do snakes normally eat potatoes?” Patton asked.

“That’s your problem with this?” Roman yelled.

“They can eat anything I can eat.” Janus said crossing his arms and sitting back down. No point in storming off now when they were just going to follow him, he might as well finish eating.

“Do…they need to eat?” Logan asked.

“Yes.” Janus said, suddenly there were a lot of hands with food shoved at the excited snakes.

He sat there angry that they were crowding him but he was a bit pleased that they weren't making fun of him for it. "They seem...really hungry. When was the last time you fed them?" Patton asked.

Janus froze before putting down his fork feeling guilty. This morning? right? He'd been so busy that he forgot. The snakes picked up on his mood and a couple of them hissed loudly making the others back off. Janus felt worse at that.

"What's wrong?" Logan asked.

"I forgot to feed them today." Janus admitted shifting around in his seat.

"Geez. Can't even do that right." Virgil muttered. Janus looked down and away from everyone. He was too...little and the heavily wiggling bad feeling in his stomach made him tear up. He sniffed once rubbing at his eyes. "Oh shoot, I didn't mean to-"

Janus shook his head. "I didn't mean ta 'get it."

"Hey shh it's ok. We know you didn't mean to forgot it bud." Remus said picking up that Janus was regressed. "You were doing important stuff and it happened." Janus nodded. "That just means we feed them now." Remus said softly..

---

Janus sat on a cushion on the floor, Remus sat on the couch behind him feeding his snakes. Roman and Logan were helping Janus figure out what oils would be nice for the snakes. Patton was sitting next to Janus petting a couple of the snakes. "They are so pretty."

Janus smiled at that. He loved his snakes and he was glad the others seemed to like them too.

"did you name them?" Virgil asked sitting on the back of the couch a bit away from everyone.

Janus nodded excitedly before hissing a few times. "Oh...yeah...They've got names they can say."

"Makes sense." Remus said hissing afterwards and being delighted as some of the snakes looked towards him.

"Oh! Do you think they would like my steam room?" Roman asked seriously.

"Why would they like your steam room?" Logan asked at the same time Patton gasped and said, "You've got a steam room?"

"One, they are snakes. and two yes, of course I have a stream room." Roman said.

"Why does them being snake mean they would like a steam room?" Virgil asked.

"Snakes like it were it's hot and humid...or was it hot and dry?" Roman asked.

"Depends on the snake." Logan said.

Janus hummed his agreement. He was hoping he wouldn't have to wear his hat as much anymore. At least on warmer days, didn't want them getting cold.

#agere janus #Janus has snakes for hair #Remus #Virgil #Logan #Roman #Patton #Little Janus #food mention

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

Maximus if you are still accepting ! The problematic face who brought us together!

give me a character and I'll answer

do I like them: I love that horrid little shit

5 good qualities:

Does Max even have 5 separate good qualities? Hmm......

1. Brilliant - Max is obviously a genius, and will whip up amazing machines to save the day......if he feels like it.

2. Imaginative - this goes hand-in-hand with brilliance, but Max comes up with out-of-the-box solutions, and dreams up machines no one else could even imagine.

3. Witty - especially in Soule's Inhumans and Ewing's Royals, the most recent Maximus characterization is this very sarcastic, witty person who is very fun and entertaining to read, and honestly kinda charismatic, even if he's a complete bastard.

4. Determination - you've really got to admire how Max just keeps reaching for that crown, not matter how many times he gets slapped down.

5. He loves his family - despite all the torture, mind-control, attempts to kill them and general fuckery, I do think that Maximus, on some level, does kinda love his family in a very twisted way. I also think he wants what's best for Attilan (or at least he believes he does), as he's been willing to help the Royal family in a lot of recent stories.

3 bad qualities:

Gosh, only three?

1. Ruthless - Max will do anything for power, including holding his family hostage, selling half his people to the Kree, murder, mayhem, torture, all sorts of awful shit. All that matters is the glory of King Maximus!

2. Cruel and vindictive - in contrast to Black Bolt's constant mercy, Maximus hurts Black Bolt every time he has a chance and gets a tiny bit of power over him. He's, uh.....not a very good brother. He also goes out of his way to hurt other family members, and generally anyone who pisses him off.

3. That whole thing with Medusa is creepy and gross, and I'm glad that recent writing has had Max completely back off on any romantic interest in her. Now he's just a power-hungry, all-purpose jerk.

favourite episode/etc:

-Inhumans: Right of Birth has a more sympathetic Maximus, who befriends an old man (that unfortunately ends badly), and who is very clearly mentally ill. Not just old-school megalomaniacal mentally ill, but actual hallucinations, and showing how he suffers from his illness.

-Inhumans limited series by Paul Jenkins - a Maximus who is both horrible and sympathetic, and very fun to read.

-Silent War - magnificent bastard sneaky plotting Maximus.

-War of Kings/Realm of Kings - goofy mechanic Maximus, who talks to Groot and builds weapons of mass destruction and is almost wholesome, if not for the weapons of mass destruction thing. Starts the trend of Maximus being....not exactly a good guy, but someone who is willing to help the family in his own way, even if you can't trust him at all.

Future Foundation - Maximus is freed from his cell by Ahura, raids the fridge, wears a robot's skin, helps build a portal and gets shrunk and stuck in a jar. It's very entertaining.

Inhumanity/New Avengers/Time Runs Out - Maximus runs around doing secret sneaky missions with Black Bolt, then inevitably back-stabs him and runs off to join Thanos' Cabal.

Soule's Inhumans - chaotic Maximus holds Black Bolt hostage, runs around with Triton, the Unspoken and Lineage, builds a giant robot with Kludge. He came out to attack people, and he is honestly having such a good time right now.

Inhumans: Once and Future Kings - baby Max who is less terrible than usual, and who at one point absorbs some of Spiderman's psyche and becomes extremely protective of Aunt May.

Ewing's Royals - some actual great development and almost a little hint of redemption, as Maximus is revealed to be receiving visions from his future self, and seeks to prevent a horrible future for his people. He also seems to have lost some of his mental illness by the end, an interesting future development that gets completely squandered by Cates' shitty Death of Inhumans. But don't worry, he's still a terrible person.

otp: Someone who can handle his bullshit, ideally someone as awful as Max himself. Maybe Max/Black Swan, they seemed flirty in New Avengers. I've read some fic with Max/Namor, and while I think Namor is much better than Maximus, I can enjoy this as an AU pairing.

brotp: Max and Groot, Max and Kludge:

ot3: No idea, really.

notp: Max/Medusa or Max/Crystal

best quote: There are so many, he gives great speeches in Silent War, and is incredibly witty in a lot of the newer stuff. But for now, I'll go with: “God is dead, fellow Inhumans! God remains dead! And we have killed him! Is not the greatness of this deed too great even for us? Yes! You’re right! Why stop now? Let’s steal God’s car!”

head canon:

-A few early stories have suggested that Maximus is faking mental illness to get out of trouble, but I think he is legitimately mentally ill. I also think he was already somewhat unstable before Black Bolt rattles his brain, and that just brought his existing illness to the forefront.

-I don't think Maximus ever truly loved or even sexually desired Medusa. She was always just a shiny toy to take away from Black Bolt. As soon as Medusa and Black Bolt are separated in the comics, Max quickly loses any interest in her.

-Sometimes Max makes little inventions for the family, little toys for the kids, and no one can figure out whether they are dangerous or not, so they just get shoved into the Chamber of Devices with the other dangerous stuff. He's made a couple of point-and-click adventure games for the kids that Ahura has secretly tried to play, but the logic of gameplay makes no sense.

-I think Max is genuinely fond of Ahura, he loves that Ahura was thought to be "crazy" like him, and probably wants to win Ahura away from Black Bolt. "See? Your father mistreats us both, you should love me, your wonderful favorite uncle!"

-Like Toad, I think Max enjoys video games. In fact, he's probably become one of Toad's voice chat online friends. Black Bolt lets him do it, because anything to keep Max occupied and out of trouble.

-I either head-canon Max as being completely asexual, just not interested at all, or pansexual and up for anything, I can't decide.

#maximus boltagon

[utterlyinevitable]

pb let me *redact* Tobias challenge 🥲

not me turning your tobias thirst asks into a 3-part mini series 😂🙈

Pairing: Ethan x F!MC (Becca Lao) x Tobias Carrick Rating: Teen+ Summary: Ethan’s still pissed at Becca for her Tobias stint when he was in the Amazon. What happens when the narcissist joins the team? Trope: Angst; Broke Up; Ethan’s POV; Fighting; Jealousy

A/N: the toxin plot didn’t happen in this universe btw.

Part 1  |  Part 2

___________________________

Godly Sins: 3. Parting Wrath of Hera

That evening Tobias and Becca spoke late into the night about anything and everything. Well, everything that didn’t involve Ethan, June and hospital drama, nor their two brief wanton stints - truly getting to know one another and starting fresh.

As days and shifts and weekends rolled by, the sparkle they’ve shared began blooming into a friendship.

It was rather inevitable, really.

Two people who shared an indubitable attraction, forced to spend all their time together out of their boss’ sight - It was kismet.

Meanwhile, Ethan Ramsey had been ignoring them both for weeks outside of Diagnostic Team mandated functions - even then, interactions were brief and mediated by Harper. He’s been on edge since Tobias joined the team as Bloom’s nark, presumably. Or at least that’s what he told himself - convinced himself that nothing good could come from whatever this was.

Oh, how things go horribly, horribly sour.

Becca was sitting in the office waiting for the daily Diagnostics Team meeting to start, busying herself by scrolling through social media over eleven times in the last five minutes.

Steps away, Ethan sat at his desk, keeping a cold shoulder and looking over files he purposely keeps on his desk for awkward times just as these. The air between them stiff and stale, as heavy as it was months ago when they had their falling out. They should have acclimated to the unrelenting suffocation of being left alone together - the third shadow accompanying whatever was left of them.

But they hadn’t. Never really could once she realized Ethan would never forgive her for forming a survivalistic attachment to his biggest adversary. Rebecca Lao wasn’t going to let a man’s misplaced pride stifle her. So, she refuses to stroke his ego by hiding - even through the rancor of being alone with him, and the twangs that erupt when they’re this close. She’s not going to idly hover outside, biding time until Harper or Tobias or Naveen or a nurse, or anyone else enters the office first. She’ll sit and she’ll wait for work to begin.

And Ethan Ramsey will sit at his desk and pretend she’s not there. He’ll pretend he can’t smell her perfume, or hear the tapping of her nails to her phone or the heel to the floor as her leg jitters. He’ll pretend she’s nothing more than a ghost of the past lingering in the cornerstone of his conscious, like all the others. He’ll convince himself he’s angled away from her just enough to keep a peripheral eye on the door in case there’s an emergency, even if that line of vision is really just of her.

If Tobias noticed Ethan staring blankly ahead, he didn’t dare attempt to feign interest. The olive-skinned addition sauntered straight over to Becca, hands full and a thin, satisfied smile at home on his lips.

He set down a large coffee and sandwich wrapped in white paper in front of her. Ethan could just about read the stickered logo from where he sat. But he could see the undoubtable way Becca’s eyes lit up.  

“Is this from...”

“The one and only,” Tobias had a cheeky grin - a kind of unbridled simper.

“That was fast.”

“Said I’d buy you breakfast, and I did.” He pulled out the chair closest to her and sat with his signature nonchalant grace. “Did you think I’m not a man of my word?” His hand was waving, palm up, towards the small feast before her.

“More like a flubber.”

Becca’s playful tone matched his in the most complimentary way.

Ethan caught the shining smile they shared - one that could only indicate an inside joke. One that could only mean they were spending too much time together. One that could only mean they were getting along.

Then Tobias plucked a strip of bacon off her sandwich.

And that was when something snapped in Dr. Ramsey.

They weren’t meant to be comfortable. They’re meant to suffer. That was the whole point of constantly pairing them together. These two flawed and moralless people were meant to be a punishment. Just for a while. Just until...

They made a house out of crushed stones.

They flipped the script on how this was meant to play out, and Ethan vehemently resented them for it.

As soon as Harper entered the office, Ethan bolted to his feet and rattled through the meeting. Swift, succinct and blinded by the need to be alone. Alone to plot what comes next.

He was gruffer with them for the rest of the day, and this time they noticed. The scorn seeped through Ethan’s characteristic distain like nuclear waste. Neither Becca or Tobias were guilty of whatever Ethan was holding them accountable for this time - a scapegoat for his repressed feelings. Then why did Becca feel guilty? She did nothing wrong - then or now. This is a natural progression to the seeds he sowed by banishing them.

Ethan will just have to live with the consequences.  

***

The consequences came two weeks later. Powerful and damning and freezing Ethan in place, right in the middle of his office. Right in front of them. 

Tobias and Becca were perched on the diagnostics’ couch. Becca’s hand is in his and he’s rubbing gentle circles of adoration to the soft skin. He didn’t stop his ministrations as the air around them, once a glorious heated serenity, now turned icy. The chill wafting through with the large presence of their past.

“I don’t want to know,” he grumbles as he pulls himself out of his stupor and storms towards his desk.

The words of her off-handed response were as hard as a lingering look into Medusa’s eyes. “Yes you do, Ethan. So ask.”

The contempt. The exasperation. The overall vile irksome in her tone… It was baiting him. She was baiting him to lose his temper. To acknowledge it all. Ethan didn’t mean to say his inner thoughts out loud, didn’t mean to revert on the divine separation he’s put between them all. And he certainly didn’t mean for her to mistake this moment as an olive branch. However decrepit it is. 

Ethan didn’t ask. Just shakes his head and tries to fall back into his ignorance. 

He hears the creak of the couch as the pair stand up and the shuffling of two people moving as one. Ethan’s trying so hard not to watch them - trying not to assess their every move and read too much into it. The pair move towards the door when he speaks -

An authoritative statement pegged directly at her. Eyes devoid of feeling, blue irises creeping down the Marianas trench.

“It is unethical to be involved with a colleague.”

Ethan Ramsey was foolish. Especially so to believe he could have the last word - the last victory of battle in the war he started. For Rebecca spun around with such purpose, the skirt of her dress catching on the wind. Her hands at her sides balling, sharp nails grazing palms.

A rueful snort escapes her, “Thought it was only unethical if there’s a power imbalance?”

She had him there. With the forced team democracy Tobias wasn’t technically a superior. Never mind that they aren’t together. Not really.

If he was a better man, Tobias would intervene and set the record straight. He’d position himself in the five feet between these two Edenbrook legacies instead of behind her. Watching. Decoding every tell tale in the tableau.

The way they were glaring at one another, well... The suspicion that floated as his reasoning to send the basket all those months ago was more than confirmed. And Tobias Carrick just realized what he’s just gotten himself into.

“There will be no fraternizing within my team,” Ethan’s voice strained to keep calm. Tried not to bellow the rule he’s kept in place when it comes to Rebecca Lao. His ears beginning to redden and the vein of his neck protruding. 

Becca huffed a dry laugh, folded her arms across her chest and looked away. Towards Tobias.

In a few seconds many things happened. Becca’s eyes locked on Tobias, shooting him a look that could only mean one thing. Tobias smiled just for her. Ethan’s heart shattered. And Becca turned back to Ethan.

Her once copper eyes now almost entirely black. “Define fraternizing.”

That had Ethan sputtering and Tobias’ sly smile broadening.

“Because friendship is one thing,” she continued. “Sexual intercourse, another.”

That got a rise out of both men for very different reasons.

“Either way, the nature of my relationship with Tobias is none of your concern.”

They’re staring one another down. His sapphire eyes darker than she’s ever seen - all the hurt they’ve caused one another swirling between. Becca can feel the regret in the tension of his shoulders and the stiffness of his jaw. But for what, she doesn’t know - doesn’t want to. The longer she stands here, looking at him for the first time in months, she fears she’ll see every facet of pain she’s caused, and every reason to back down. And that’s too much to bear. Even after it all there’s still a part of her that loves him, always will. 

She’s strong as stone before him, refusing to waver.

Tobias itches to say something, anything. Something that wouldn’t just cut through the tension... 

“If it makes you feel better we’ll disclose to HR.”

Ethan’s neck could have snapped with the force of the swiftness as his head whipped towards his rival. Eyes narrowed and sizing Tobias up - decoding every subtext of the phrase. Every little bit of their unknown closeness. 

With his steely gaze stuck on Tobias, Becca found the strength to pull away. Turned her back on Ethan and began walking out - not a single glance thrown back over her shoulder for either man. Tobias less than half a step behind her. Leaving Ethan with one final look. 

As Ethan watched them walk out, he deflates. A knife stabbed straight to the heart he wasn’t sure he still had. Red blood that beat because of her. 

For her. 

Still.

***BONUS POV***

As soon as they were out of earshot, down the corridor and away from any lingering ears, Tobias spoke; 

“Ever going to tell me what happened between you and Ramsey?”

“A mistake, apparently.”

He squeezed her hand and that’s all that was said on the subject.      

______________________

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[monst]

Choking bakugou during hate sex~ thats the dream

That expression make me hate you less

All characters 18+

Bakugou katsuki x Reader

Warnings: Rough sexy times, Choking, Degradation, mean words and a sub Bakugou ^.^ 

If anyone were to ask about the nature of your relationship with Bakugou they’d get an eyeroll and a frown while saying “Those two hate each other.” And they wouldn’t be wrong. Both of you loathed each other, and the reason for your mutual hatred was incredibly juvenile. 

You see both of you had graduated around the same time and were fresh faced pro-heroes when you met… Sadly the both of you had similar tempers and worked in the same district. To make matters worse the both of your had a short fuse and were very, very competitive. Naturally the similarities in your personalities had the two of you clashing.

“Fuckface you apprehended my villain!” You hissed. 

“I don’t see your name on him dipshit.” He retorted. 

“Get the fuck out of my way asshole.” You’d sneer.

“Oh I’m sorry I didn’t hear you. Must be because you said nothing relevant.” he sassed. 

“You shitty hero! You destroyed half the building!” You roared. 

“I didn’t see you do anything helpful Princess.” He spat. 

These were just a few of your day to day conversations. And quite frankly everyone was sick of it. The tension was terrible when the both of you were in a room hell, it couldn’t be cut with a knife because you’d need a chainsaw to even put a dent in it. And to make matters worse the two of you would go off at the drop of a pin. So that led you both to your current situation… Trapped in a quirk cancelling chamber until the two of you could hug and sing Kumbaya. That wasn’t happening anytime soon…

As a matter of fact it seemed as though the both of you were intent on maiming each other. The screams and war cries coming from the room were terrifying. So much so that the evil doers decided that the both of you didn’t need babysitting or maybe it was because they really couldn’t stand the horrific sounds…. So off went your bosses while the two of you were at each other’s throats. 

Bakugou wiped at his bruised lip wiping away the blood from the stinging split when the both of you pulled away. You weren’t faring any better as you rubbed at your arm, the spot sore from how tight he had gripped you. You panted like wild beasts, glaring at each other so fiercely that medusa herself would have turned to stone. 

“I fucking hate you.” You hissed. 

“Something we can agree on you fucking cunt.” He spat. 

“Admit it.” You hissed. “Your just fucking jealous that i’m stronger than you that’s why your always trying to ruin my reputation.”

“Ha! You tryna blame me because your ratings are lower than mine? They’re lower ‘cause i’m obviously the better hero.” He shrugged. 

“Stay off my fucking turf or else Ba-ku-gou” You mocked. 

“It isn’t your fucking terf you cumrag it’s a distrcit. I swear how the fuck did you even graduate?” He insulted. 

“Listen here you fucktard!” You seethed jabbing your finger into his chest harshly. It only prompted him to grab said finger, which only pissed you off even more. And it seemed as though the both of you had the same idea as your foreheads ricocheted against each other. And when you finished consoling your throbbing skull you turned to continue the argument. You weren’t expecting him to be doing the same. And you weren’t expecting to have any form of contact with the blonde that wasn’t violent. But this.. This was soft, smooth and plush. 

The both of you had accidentally kissed. And two people have never moved away from each other so quickly. And two people had never latched onto each other so fiercely. You didn’t know who started it but you can both agree that neither of you were going to back down. Your lips smushed up against each other in something so brutal that calling it a kiss would have been wrong. In fact the action was mostly teeth, clacking against each other while the both of you shared an unblinking gaze of fury.  

You hand gripped his soft blonde hair harshly while his hand dug into your ass. Nothing about it was soft, nothing about it was loving. This was just another competition, of what? one couldn’t really tell but neither of you intended to lose. And in your heated battle the both of you tore at each other’s clothes. 

When your breasts were gripped tighter than intended you hissed, sinking your teeth into his neck in retaliation. And when your hands tugged at his blonde stands with the intent to yank them out your back met with the cool surface of the only table in the room. The structure was sturdy and held you both. But you weren’t having it. You weren’t going to let him fuck you. No, you were going to show him who the top dog really was. 

And so while his calloused fingers teased your clit vigorously you moved your hand towards his length. You held in all sounds as his finger tugged at your hardened nipples and one could give you an award for not making a sound when his fingers slipped into your drooling heat. But when his quick thrusts shifted and he met with a texture different from the rest of your smooth walls you cracked. 

“Ah~” You wanted to slap that shark-like grin off the red-eyed man’s face. You could have lost yourself in his touch. In the way your pussy squelched with every thrust, the way your nerves shot bolts of pleasure throughout your body hell you were even drinking up the way his muscles flexed when he’d push his fingers deeper. You would have considered letting him top, your hand retracting as your mind was slowly being changed. It seemed as though everything would be set in stone had Bakugou not spoken. 

“I fuckin’ knew it.” He leered “All that big talk but all you really wanted was to get fucked to have someone split you open like the sl-hhngh.” He stopped mid-way, his lips parted allowing a moan to slip past  unfiltered. One of your hands held a firm grip on his throbbing cock while the other hand squeezed his balls. You weren’t expecting the high pitched yelp when you applied a bit more pressure. You rolled your eyes when you saw his roll back. ‘Of course he likes pain.’ 

His stunned form allowed you to wrap your legs around him and switch positions. You were met with a glare once you were looking down at him but his protests died on his lips when you swiped your thumb over the head of his slit. “Oh fuck.” He gasped when you pressed against it. 

“You look better like this.” You teased “Subdued and whining like a bitch. It fits you.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He snarled. His face then took on a deep red color as he couldn’t stop the sound of protest that left his plush lips when you let go of his heavy cock. 

“Stay put.” You ordered. He wasn’t too fond of the order and went to lean up only for your hand to wrap around his throat. When you squeeze the muscles there he froze and from the look on his face you could tell that he was confused so you applied more pressure eliciting a surprisingly cute gasp from the man. 

He was so focused on the fact that he was getting dizzy that when you sunk down onto his cock he mewled loudly. His hips jerking up as his face twisted into something positively sinful. Your cunt squeezed down around him at the sight and you didn’t hesitate and began a quick and rough pace. You wouldn’t lie he felt amazing inside of you, his thick length brushing up against spots you weren’t even aware existed. 

You were so lost in the sauce that you had almost forgotten how hard you were gripping his neck. But when you loosened your hold his tongue lolled out to the side in bliss. “F-Fucking do it again.” He rasped thrusting into you harshly. 

“Such a needy bitch.” You grinned. “I’ll choke the life out of you if that’s what you want.”

“You better not hold back you fu-ngh.” The way you slammed back down on him was almost painful. And when you felt him pulse inside of you, you couldn’t help the quip that left your lips. 

“So, m-much for being better than me Mmm you’re already about to cum.” You mocked. He could only glare at you through tears completely drunk off the pleasure. And true to your word he did cum first. Hot thick spurts shooting up into your pussy. But you weren’t done with him yet and even when he whined in overstimulation you continued to bounce on his cock. 

“Look at you~” You hummed “You really do look good like this.” 

Bakugou couldn’t even form sentences. You made out words like ‘bitch’ ‘My turn’ being slurred out. He was wrecked. And you were beginning to tire.

.

.

.

You both dressed in silence. Your eyes wandering to the bruises around his neck. A smirk tugged at your lips. And you bent over to tug on your shoes. 

“Oi fuckface what’s with the look.” He frowned. 

“Dunno for a moment there I didn’t hate your guts.” You paused. “But now that it’s over I still hate you.”

“Ditto, I hope you fucking rot.” scoffed. 

“….Wanna do it again.” You asked, You were about to get back up when his hand met the back of your neck. He pressed against your ass and leaned down to your ear. 

“I wonder..” He paused “Would I hate you a bit less if you could make that expression you were talkin about.” 

“Only one way to find out. Unless you’re too pussy to choke me correc-

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou lemon #bnha smut

[i-ntrmission]

Nine (Van McCann)

Just a silly little fic where Van is sporadic regular at a coffee shop. 

Part 1 (4.3k)

They say bad things happen in threes.

Your phone hadn’t charged overnight, leaving you with 15% battery.

A car ran through a puddle during your walk to work, soaking your legs.

An elderly man held the door of the coffee shop open for you, gesturing with a newspaper for you to go ahead, and a smile that you couldn’t help but reciprocate, until a busy mum storms out from the shop knocking into you and spilling fresh coffee down your jacket.

“Tough morning, eh?” Your co-worker, and resident barista genius, Toby comments with a chuckle while you stomped around the counter. Having seen what just happened, and taking in your soaked tights.

Julia, resident window art and slogan genius, glancing around from the till with a sympathetic pout while you roll your eyes at Toby, pushing on the staff door.

“Oh, leave off Tobes - leave her be. That was tragic, babe. Spare tights in my bag, help yourself.” She says before turning back to the line of customers.

“Cheers, Julia.” You sigh in relief while heading into the back, Toby’s dry chuckles and singsong of ‘Happy Friday!’ following you.

Once you have on dry tights, cleaned what you can from your jacket (thankfully it was leather), and hunted down a spare charger for your phone, you grab your apron and head back out.

By some grace of god, you had a later shift for today, meaning you missed the usual breakfast run full of impatient office employees, half asleep students, pass remarkable construction workers - thankful, with the way your morning had went you wouldn’t have been fit for dealing with that kind of stress this morning. Now in the clear for the easy hours before lunch.

“There she is,” Toby, a lazy grin when you re-emerge, Julia leaning on the counter beside him sipping from a mug, basking in the post breakfast rush comedown. “Here ya go, looks like you need it.” He slides a takeaway cup over to you, and you all too eagerly take a sip. Caffeine can nearly always fix anything, especially a bad morning.

Cinnamon caramel macchiato, a hum of appreciation and a drawn out ‘thank you.” He only chuckles out a ‘no bother’, picking up his tea. You had always found it ironic that someone who despised the taste and smell of coffee worked in a coffee shop, and on top of that made really fucking good coffee.

“So what’s happened you? Apparent from the coffee incident obvs, looked like you wanted to throttle all us when you came in,” Julia asks, brown eyes glancing over you as she takes another sip from her mug.

“Nah, she just always looks like that,” Toby says, a teasing grin. You just roll your eyes, it was true that your resting bitch face was Medusa level.

A sigh, taking another mouthful of your coffee and picking up a basin to start clearing the tables with while you shrug and launch into the story of your morning.

“Happens in threes, doesn’t it.” Julia comments when you catch them up.

"Well, that's my three strikes done for the day, thank fuck,” you shrug. She frowns at that.

"Touch wood."

"What?"

"You jinxed it saying that, need to touch wood for good luck!" Appalled that you never heard of the superstition at question.

Rolling your eyes, a huff as you walk away to start cleaning up. “Think I’ll be alright, Jules.” You weren’t superstitious. “Want some salt instead? Throw it over your shoulder!” Toby chuckles.

Julia only elbows him in the side, telling you both to piss off, mumbling something about having to spill salt first before you could do that.

But, maybe there was some truth in her superstitions because no less than ten minutes later, a cup slipped through your fingers smashing on the floor. Cursing yourself and then glancing meekly in her direction, she watched with a raised brow.

“Reckon it’s too late to touch wood?”

After the cup, you break a plate.

After the plate, you stand back to let a toddler and mum pass by you to get to the bathrooms, standing back with a smile - until you knock over a stand of artisan coffee bags.

“Another three down,” Julia mutters with a smirk while stacking clean cups.

“Sure you don’t want that salt?” Toby quips while walking by you as you sweep up spilt coffee beans. You give him the finger behind the dustpan you held, he reaches up as if to scratch at his beard - sliding his middle finger along his cheek, right back at you.

Your bad luck continues. During the lunch rush you manage to burn a granddad’s toasted sandwich, shortchange a regular who worked in the bookies across the street, and upend a student’s iced latte over your top.

You’re hopelessly scrubbing at the stain on your top when Julia walks into the back, grabbing her pack of fags.

“Jesus,” she mumbles, a dumbfounded look at how much you had managed to fuck up today. Completely out of character for you, a perfectionist by nature. “Did ya break a mirror or sommat lately?”

You only sigh and shake your head, “Any significance in the number 9?”

She thinks for a second, then smiles as she pulls a lighter from her jacket pocket. “9 is supposed to be good luck, actually. New beginnings,” she tilts her head, looking at you, “maybe buy a scratch card, or come to the pub quiz tonight!”

You laugh but before you can reply your manager walks in, a empathic glint in her eye. Everyone who worked here adored Carly, the ultimate mother figure. A caring but also a take no shit kind of person.

Your name - as she walks in, “what’s going on, pet? You’re a one man wrecking machine today!”

She tells you to take an early lunch, go home and get changed, clear your head and the come back. You sigh in relief of not having to wear a soggy blouse for the rest of the day. Half way home when you realize you’ve left your phone charging under the counter.

Finding Julia’s cat, Kurt, sitting on the steps to your and Julia’s shared basement flat. He purrs, pushing his head into your hand when you reach down to pick him up. You spend the next half hour sprawled on your bed with Kurt, eating rice crackers and watching “Best of Dean Winchester” complications on YouTube. Self care.

An hour later, when you walk back into the cafè Julia does a double take, stretching her arms wide and tilting her head in a ‘what the fuck!’ manner.

“Yeah? What’s up?” You ask, walking around the counter to pick back up your apron.

“Where’s your phone?! I’ve been texting you! Guess who’s bloody back?” A rush, and she’s all but bouncing on the spot, eyes gleaming with excitement.

You reach under the counter to pick up your phone, holding it up to her. It was still turned off but charged now. Telling her you forgot about it before you left. Not really bothered about her sudden elation, probably just one of her newest little crushes that changed every month. You entertain her, nonetheless.

“Who? Your man from the butchers?” Asking, while tying your apron, she shakes her head, eyes alight.

“Hm, weird uni Tolstoy wannabe?” You guess again, she shakes her head, then adds that he’s not weird just a bit eccentric and there’s nothing wrong with that. You still think the fact that he’s read War and Peace four times, and brags about, is a red flag.

You’re about to suggest the blonde and blue haired girl from the library when she cuts you off. “Anyway it’s nowt to do with me, cmon you know who it is!”

You only stare at her, blinking and out of guesses. She sighs your name is exasperation.

“Christ, you’re hopeless today. It’s only Van fuckin’ McCann, isn’t it!”

Your eyes widen, heart kicking around your ribs and blood pounds a bit harder at mention of his name. A reaction that surprises you.

“Fuck off!” It comes out as an alarmed whisper.

Van McCann had been coming to the coffee shop for three years now. Often showing up for a few days at a time and then seemingly disappearing off the face of the earth.

He had an obsession with the loyalty cards you dished out with the paper cups, nine stamps got a free drink. He never filled one.

He first showed up three summers ago, middle of a heatwave. He was wearing all black, ripped jeans, and a holy jumper. The holes and rips didn’t seem to be a fashion statement, more like he had just worn the clothes to death. He was pale, too pale. Shoulder length hair that definitely hadn’t seen a shower in a couple days, bags under his eyes. Towing along a smaller guy with long hair and a bandana. They looked out of place. A cloud of cigarette smoke lingering around them, underlying weed.

You and Julia had exchanged a glance. “Homeless? Junkies?” She mouthed at you, after they had sat down with their teas and cinnamon buns you had freshly made that morning. You had rolled your eyes, told her to stop being a judgmental prick.

He came back the next morning, on his own. Same jeans but a black T-shirt, and fluffy hair. You had been cleaning tables, observing while Toby served him. He wanted another cinnamon bun, Toby told him he was out of luck, you hadn’t made them that morning. Glancing over his shoulder with interest when Toby had pointed you out as the resident baker.

The third morning he was back again, a Glasvegas T-shirt. Julia told him you loved that band while he was waiting on his coffee. You were putting out fresh cherry and chocolate scones, when he caught your eye.

“Ey, they’re class aren’t they? What’s ya favourite song?”

You always struggled to hold his gaze when he looked at you, that didn’t change with time. Insanely blue eyes framed with lashes that were wasted on him. You shrugged, “probably Lots Sometimes.” And he had broke out into a wide grin, giving you the first glimpse of his slightly crooked bunny teeth.

You had given him the first of many loyalty cards that day, seeing as he had come in for three mornings straight, he pocketed it with a little huff of laughter, novelty.

He didn’t come back for months after that.

You and Julia spent the next few days speculating who he was and where he had gone, passing slow shifts. Toby rolled his eyes at the theories, saying that he most likely found the new Starbucks across town. Julia sighed in disappointment while muttering something about how conglomerate multi nationals were the root of all evil.

However, he turned up again a month or two later. A busy morning, frantic. You hadn’t even had a chance to look up at the next person in line when you heard his voice, “well ‘ello again, Glasvegas.”

And that’s how it went on, the cycle of Van appearing for a little bit then vanishing for longer. Each time he easily became the best part of the long days - banter, shameless flirting, footie talk with Toby, taste testing any and everything you had baked as a trial run, swapping stories, endless loyalty cards.

He always had a strange little smile when you added an fresh coffee cup stamp to the grid, something the general customer didn’t really care about and it was often a surprise when they filled the card up.

He never gave a heads up when he would be leaving again, he simply just disappeared. And you tried to pretend it wasn’t weird that you got a plummeting feeling in your stomach when it came to the day he didn’t show up. Blue eyes, freckles, a contagious laugh. It was all lingering stares, fingers brushing longer than necessary, throwaway salacious comments.

“C’mon babe, you know he’ll be back, quit sulking,” Julia would playfully elbow you when the day came, and you shook your head with snort, “Shut up, M’not sulking.”

You eventually found out he was in a band, and sometime last year he had asked you if you wanted to come to one of his gigs. Well, he had asked the three of you - but Julia was going on holidays that weekend, Toby had a wedding, and when his eyes met yours you had instinctively crafted a lie about going to visit your sister in London. Something Julia gave you shit for for weeks afterward. You didn’t have a sister, and you hated London.

A few weeks after that incident - by then Van was long gone, Julia stormed into the café with an NME magazine in hand, slamming down on the counter, Van’s face filled the cover.

“Fucking hell!” You and Toby had exhaled in near unison.

“So turns out he’s actually proper famous then, eh?” Julia laughed.

“Am I the bad boy of rock, then? Oh mate..” Toby read from the cover, laughing. “And you turned down the chance to be his bands groupie!” He joked, turning to you.

“Here, I thought he wanted us to go watch his shite Arctic Monkeys rip off band play sweaty Whelans okay?!” You defended.

“Do you think we can start a wall of famous regulars now?” Julia changed the subject, taking a fresh scone you were laying out, flicking to the pages of his interview.

“Yeah, Rock’s bad boy Van McCann and Barry from Eastenders. What a lineup...” Toby snorted, going back to stacking coffee beans.

“I mean, Van kind of looks like Hugh Grant... If you squint.” You shrugged.

You and Julia went home and watched countless Catfish and the Bottlemen interviews and live sets, you liked seeing how Van never changed. No matter who he was talking to. Treating everyone like they were an old friend, not someone he had just met 5 minutes ago.

The band seemed to really take off that year, he came back less and less. But he was still the same old Van when he did, success didn’t change him. Then their second album dropped a year ago, and you hadn’t seen him since. You were happy for him, it was obvious that he was living his dream. Eventually, you stopped thinking about him all that much, life moved on.

Now you were looking at a smug Julia, instinctively glancing around the shop while she laughs and tells you he’s long gone.

“Came in literally 5 minutes after you went out, this day is honestly like some weird fever dream.” She tells you, while Toby comes out from the back.

“And she told him you didn’t work here anymore, should have seen the poor lad’s face!” Toby chuckles.

The two of them look at at each other with a groan when you ask why he’d be upset about you not being here anymore.

“I swear to god, if I have to watch the eye fucking over coffee cups for the next few days...” she sighs, an eye roll. “He’s made it obvious he’s fancied you since the first day he walked in, yeah? Give him a chance!”

“Fucking hell, that’s pure bollocks,” exasperated. Met with a disbelieving look, which only brings you further into defensive mode. “Look, you even gave him my number on one of the stupid loyalty cards last time, never even heard from him. Obviously isn’t interested one bit.”

Julia had asked you if she could write your number on his loyalty card last spring. You had only half said yes, half said no. Noncommittal, all she needed to run with it. She handed it back to him without saying anything, only a smug smirk. You pretended you hadn’t sprung for your phone at every notification for the next two weeks in hope of hearing from him, you never did.

Julia - another eye roll, hands in the air, “Dunno, maybe he just lost the card! You just need to stop writing people off before you get to proper know them!”

The rest of the day dragged, but no more bad luck. As if the universe realigned around Van, which probably wasn’t too far from the truth.

By closing time, it’s just you and Toby left to do the clean up and lockup. It’s nearly 9 when you hear him drawl your name, walking into the kitchen and leaning against the doorway.

“Hey, Kiddo...”

“Toby, my love, what have I told you about patronizing me before you ask me for a favour?” Humming while you put cling filmed dough into the fridge for the pecan pie you were planning on making tomorrow morning.

He laughs and walks in, leaning against the counter. “Alright, sorry - princess.”

Shutting the fridge as you turn to face him with an eye roll, wordlessly telling him to go on. He launches into the how he kind of maybe forgot that his anniversary with his fiancée is tomorrow, their usual Italian restaurant they go to every year is fully booked but he knows the chef. Who, as of this morning, promised to do a private dinner for them, if he meets him at half nine and buys him a couple of drinks.

You listen while you clean off the counter tops, shaking your head with a laugh. “Dunno, mate. What’s in it for me? I mean apart from the joy of mopping floors and taking out the bins?”

Playful - a long sigh. “Isn’t the selfless act of helping out a friend in need reward enough?”

“Yeah, but we’d have to be friends first for that wouldn’t we?” You tilt your head.

“God, you’re such a little bitch sometimes, y’know that?” He chuckles, you shrug. “Right, how about I take the bins out and mop the floors all of next week, and I’ll treat ya to a Sunday roast down the pub after we finish Sunday, deal?”

He holds out his hand, eyes narrowing. Pretending to mull it over for a few seconds, you wouldn’t have made a fuss about him asking you to finish up tonight anyway, but he was always too easy to wind up. Eventually you sigh out a “suppose so” and take his hand.

Pulling you into a hug, dragging out a noise that resembles, ‘legend’ while kissing your head.

Once he’s gone, along with the rubbish, locking you in and halfway pulling the shutter down outside, you put on a Richard Ashcroft album and start on the floor.

Crazy world - you’re half singing along to the chorus, and finishing the floor, when you hear a faint noise behind the music. Insistent tapping. Confusion clouding - knowing you were here alone, glancing behind you, your grip tightening on the mop. And you almost jump out of your skin, a shadow in the entrance to the shop.

It’s Van.

He had clearly ducked under the shutter, now outside the door silhouetted by buzz of streetlamps, tapping on the glass. He laughs at your startled expression, holding up his hands and mouthing ‘sorry, sorry!”

Heart - thumping even harder now, lightheaded. Grabbing your keys to unlock the door, and when you’re face to face with him your mouth goes dry.

“Thought you’d gone and left on us, Glasvegas,”

Gaze flickering over you, a smile tugging on his lips. You can tell he’s been drinking, the all too familiar scent of hours spent in the pub lingers, mixed with fresh cigarettes, shrunken pupils and glassy eyes. A wave of trepidation prickles along your arms, drunk men made you nervous.

But - it’s Van, all messy hair, drunk eyes, and a lazy tired kind of grin. Relaxed and happy.

“Nope, still here like always,” releasing a breath you didn’t realise that you had been holding. Focusing on his necklace, sliver glinting under opened shirt buttons. “Heard Julia was messin’ with you earlier, eh?”

“Too good at fuckin’ with us that one,” he laughs, licking his lips. “Had me dead convinced you’d gone.”

Creased blue shirt - sleeves rolled up, the colour only makes his eyes look even more blue, and even more pretty. Finding yourself being increasingly self conscious despite his equally disheveled appearance. Knowing that your foundation was separating, concealer caking, mascara flaking and lipstick long gone. Coffee stains and flour marking your clothes.

“Did you want to come in for a sec?” You manage to ask.

“Can I? Won’t get ya in trouble or anything? Cause yous are closed.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes while beckoning him in. “C’mon, didn’t have you down as someone who follows the rules, McCann. Careful though, floor is still wet.”

“Oh, no, you’re dead right ‘bout that, love. Just I had you down as someone who always follows the rules.” Winking at you as he walks in, commenting how different the place feels at night.

“Anyways,” he turns back to you with a hum of your name, “Sorry that I scared you, don’t want ya to think I’m being weird coming here this late or anything, I was on me way home see, passing by and I found these on the ground outside..”

He holds up a hand, key chain around his finger and a Harley Davidson key ring you immediately recognize as Toby’s.

You cut him off, telling him they’re Toby’s, that he must have dropped them after locking you in earlier, and that he’s a fucking idiot. An entertained smile curving his lips at your mini rant.

“Sorry, been a long day.”

“Yeah, Julia mentioned you’d been having bad luck or sommat, tell me about it?” A hopeful glint in his eye, and you wondered if he had ever been denied anything in his life.

Ending up making him coffee and giving him leftover banana bread while you ran him through the dramatics of your day. He, like Julia, was shocked that you had never heard of the touch wood superstition.

“Sounds like you’ve been through it, love... then I show up and make it worse, eh?” Finishing his cake and his eyes find yours again.

“Yeah, something like that,” a teasing sort of lithe, the more you talked to him the more at ease you felt around him. It’s familiar.

“Alright, alright! See how it is!” His voice raising to a squeak, you laughed.

You wouldn’t let him pay for the coffee and banana bread, saying it was on the house for saving the shop from being robbed. He only shrugs and leans against the counter beside you. “Just means I’m gonna have to buy you one back, doesn’t it.”

“Thanks for the gesture, but I do get free coffee working here, y’know,” you tell him, already hearing Julia’s words about writing people off, but he was only being nice, wasn’t he?

“Fairs, I’ll buy ya one from a different place then, good to try out the competition innit?” Arms crossing while he looks at you, and you shake your head. Your cheeks aching from the permanent smile you had since he walked in, and you knew you’d cringe about that later tonight when you replayed the scene over in your head in bed.

“Only competition round here is Starbucks, and I don’t think Julia would let you step foot in here again if you buy anything from there.”

He laughs at that, telling you he was more thinking of crappy petrol station coffee. Something you scrunch your nose in disgust at, asking him if that’s all your worth to him. Drawing another laugh.

“C’mere I’d rather take you out for a pint, but m’sparing myself from the inevitable rejection and heartbreak,” he laughs, shaking his head. Your teeth sink into your lip, picking at loose skin on your thumb nail, practically hearing Julia screaming at you in your head.

“How long are you back for?” Finding yourself asking, though you never had before. Not something you ever talked about, questioned. He gives you a look, a smirk.

“Never talk about that do we, love?” He echoes your thoughts while digging in his pocket, ridiculously tight skinny jeans, until his pulls out the green little loyalty card. 8 empty stamp grids, his first one filled by Julia today. “But I’m gonna fill one of these eventually! Toby’s bet me a fiver that I won’t until I’m 30.”

You’re half tempted to ask him why he never called, or texted, or did anything with your number on the last card. Instead your mouth curls around telling him that you’d best lock up and get home. You’re knackered. He asks how you’re getting home, telling him you’re walking, that you only live 15 minutes away while he glances outside. Orange glow of streetlamps. It’s nearing 10, autumn weather starting to creep in.

“It’s dark out.” He states the obvious.

“And?”

“Love, I ain’t letting you walk home in the dark alone! Let me walk ya,” Exclaiming, typical Van fashion. Shaking your head, knowing his intentions were good but you were stubborn.

“Who are you, me dad? I’m more than capable of getting myself home, Van.” Teasing but firm, arching a brow at him. He tells you he’ll get you an Uber then, you repeat that it’s only 15 minutes home, that you’re walking. He only stares at you for a second or two, and you can’t hold it. Thankful that he’s obviously drunk and tired, because he gives in.

“Then at least text me when ya get home, yeah?” Curling his fingers for you to give him your phone, something you’re tempted to deny. But finding it endearing that he cares so much. Handing your phone over. He messes up his number twice.

Unexpectedly, he pulls you in for a hug before he leaves. All warm skin, and you realise you wish you could stay here talking shite with him for longer. All night even.

You watch him walk over to the door. “Right, night.. you’ll be here in the morning, yeah?” He glances back.

“Bright and early.” You confirm.

“Any cinnamon buns going?”

“Maybe, if you get in early enough.”

He laughs. “Right, night then. See ya tomorrow, Glasvegas. Text me, don’t forget!” He calls while he walks out and you grab your stuff to follow him out once you set the alarm.

Watching - he pretends to walk down stairs on the other side of the window before ducking under the shutter.

Leaving you to shake your head with an amused laugh. What a fucking day.

#oh hey sometimes i write vanfics when i need to get out of my head #idk prob will add another few parts to this at some pointtt #vanfic #catb fanfic #Van McCann fanfic