#but the project is low stakes. if they come out they come out. not sure about the centers yet.

[bigfatbimbo]

silly low effort dating Lucifer headcanons —

I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HE’S THE SILLIEST EVER. Anyways, now that we have that out of the way. He is very touchy with you, especially after you guys start dating. He constantly has his hand on your shoulder, arm, in your hair, or on your leg. He’s been so touch starved ever since Lilith left him. So he’s always chasing that kinda of comforting physical touch. Also, probably just always clinging to your arm, no matter what you’re doing too. He’s just there, hanging around. I said in another post he likes to play with your fingers, rings, hands, bracelets, etc when he rambles on about whatever is interesting him. ”I had another Idea for a rubber duck that blows bubbles but I never really got around to it, plus there’s always—“ and he’d be fiddling with your hands the entire time. He also has a thing for being called really lovey-dovey pet names. Princess, sweetheart, babycakes, pretty boy, things like that. I swear they have him on the floor blushing every time, especially if you play it up well enough. ”You look so good today,” and then you strut over to him and tilt his head up to look at you, “my pretty boy.” Hes in shambles oh my god. Probably giggling and putting his hand over his mouth to conceal his dorky grin. Up the stakes by taking his hand and kissing it gently, never breaking eye contact. “Oh— oh my—“ he would stutter out. “Darling how… charming.” But he’d be tomato red and giggling the whole time. Not a lot of people acknowledge this, but he can be very snobby too. Of course, he’s the king of hell. Why shouldn’t he be? He also hold himself to a standard above sinners because, in his words, ‘they’re just the worst.’ So he’d be lowkey snooty and proud in public sometimes. And he’s a little rich boy too so don’t be surprised if he complains about how: “This restaurant serves their lamb too cold. You know, we don’t have to eat here. I have pancake batter at home sooo…” If you end up calling him out on it he’d feel bad about being so bratty and tip the waitress an outrageous amount. Also, i’m sorry this man is a little spoon through and through. Let’s be real right now. He’s so tiny he absolutely dissolved in your arms. Which is very comforting for him on bad days when he just wants to be held by you. He also, even though he acts all high and mighty when it happens, loves being manhandled by you. Maybe he’s overworking himself and so you just sneak up behind him and throw him over your shoulder. He'd bang his fists on your back and demand to be treated with dignity, as if he couldn’t overpower you in seconds. Also, you catch him talking to his rubber ducks A LOT. For a while they were probably all that he talked to it’s kind of sad to watch. But in a cute way? He has names for them all and specific personalities. He’ll be showing you his collection and be like “Oh, george likes you!” after forcing you to hold a rubber duck for him. Also a good cook, I don’t know why I just feel like he is. But like very oddly specific dishes too. He makes a mean gourmet mac and cheese with parmesan on the top. He likes to dance with you too, whether it’s slow dancing or you two are just being silly, he likes to feel your body warmth on him while you two move together. Also, i’m pretty sure we all ready know… autism. I’m not even projecting this time either, it just might as well be canon. So he comes you to about any new hyperfixations he has at the time because he trusts that you, above all people, will listen to him. Once again he’ll play with your bracelets, or fiddle with his hands while he talks to you. And of course, you listen, and even do your research later to make him feel like you really care. He also loves making arts and crafts with you. Sometimes even with some friendly competition (incredibly competitive high-energy contests on who’s contraption works better.) I also imagine you have to say things to him multiple times for him to hear you. It’s not that he can’t hear you, he’s just in his own little world, not paying attention at all to his surroundings.

”What, honey? Sorry, didn’t catch that last part—“ 

Then he’ll focus so hard on paying attention, that he’ll forget to actually pay attention and make you explain it another time.

I imagine he likes doing little tasks for you, so he can feel useful. Like running your laundry for you, doing the dishes, anything to keep him busy.

Also, it’d it earns words of affirmations from you, then it’s worth it. 

Say you catch him scrubbing pots and pans to save you the effort. Come up behind him, put your hands on his hips and kiss his head before telling him how amazing he is. And how great full you are for him.

He’s beaming and smiling so hard his cheeks hurt.

I also think he’s a morning person, so more often than not, he wakes you up with breakfast in bed.

He falls asleep so early at night it’s literally crazy. 

Like you could be hugging him, even standing up, at nighttime and he would immediately get so drowsy.

You’d have to pick him up bridal style and carry him to bed, all the while he’s whining about how he’s “Not tired, yet! I still have so much to do.” I think he also is a huge giggler like he just gets a kick out of everything you say and thinks you’re the funniest person alive. Also, he’s a terrible ugly crier. Like his face scrunches all the way up, snot comes out of his noise, he makes god awful chocking noises. It be kinda funny if it wasn’t so sad to watch to be honest. Cries at super stupid things too, those dog commercials for example. But it’s so bad he could be being his goofy self and like making the milk and the carton of eggs talk to each other. And he would get so invested in their ‘lives’ that he would start crying. ”No, Mr. Milk i’m sorry we can’t—“ sniff sniff “—be together. I DON’T LOVE YOU!” and now he’s crying. He buries his face in your shirt when he cries and just, I have a specific noise in mind, violently squeaks and sniffs.

a/n — My tumblr was tweaking out when I wrote this. I don’t know what happened but if you saw this posted last night, no you didn’t.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel fluff #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #silly low effort headcanons

[place-called-space]

it’s finals week and i’m genuinely dying trying to write all these final projects and essays for my classes but... there’s a smutty one shot idea for our favorite lawyer that’s been rattling around in my brain for ages and i’m not sure if i can ignore it for much longer🫣

it'll be my first relatively plotless one shot that i'd post on this hellsite but there's been such a drought of matty fics recently that i feel compelled to feed and water the masses

i probably won't get around to actually writing it until after this week, and we'll be lucky if i post it by the end of next week, but for now let me set the scene 🫶🏼

content warning: dom/sub dynamics (orgasm control/denial, ruined orgasm, edging), semi-public phone sex? (matt’s in his office with the door closed but it’s implied that karen and foggy are in the next room), masturbation (male and female, but neither of them actually cum), fingering, reader is ✨sexually frustrated✨ so she slips into subspace easily, body worship/fantisization? (reader has a very active imagination and she actively imagines several naughty situations with matt), reader’s wet dream (not super detailed, just mentioned in passing)

it feels like it's been weeks since the two of you have spent any real time together.

the firm has been busy with some high-paying client that they're not in a financial position to turn down, so it's been all hands on deck for the better part of the last month. matt has to leave before you get up, but he nudges you awake to say goodbye, pressing a kiss to your forehead and letting you know if he has a lunch meeting or not so you can call and hear his voice for a blessed 30 minutes.

and because the universe hates you, matt's duties as daredevil haven't eased up either. all you've been able to get out of him is that he's been staking out one of the smaller crime families in hell's kitchen that have been looking for an opportunity to gain more power. he hears whispers of smugglers and arms deals and he barely has time to scarf down some eggs and toast-

(carbs and protein to hold him over until he can turn in for the night and warm up the plate you always left for him)

-before he's sheathed in kevlar and leather, shouting over his shoulder to not wait up for him before fleeing out the roof access door.

and of course you miss him.

you used to make coffee for you both as he got ready for work, chatting idly about that crime docuseries karen had recommended and getting matt to translate the legal jargon. you'd loop his tie around his neck, tightening the knot before pulling him down for a kiss, passing him his briefcase before sending him off to work.

he'd come home after work, smiling as he came through the door because he'd been able to hear your voice from the lobby as you made dinner, singing along to one of his favorite vinyl records. soft jazz and pasta sauce and you would smother his senses as soon as he stepped into the apartment and as soon as he shucked off his shoes and set his briefcase down, he'd round the kitchen island and wrap his arms around your waist from behind, nuzzling at your neck and peppering your skin with kisses, reveling in the delighted giggles you let out.

but with his new schedule, the apartment seemed so empty.

you were eating alone and washing one set of dishes, sleeping in a bed too big and too cold for just you. you missed the way his arms would wind around you as you slept, the fearsome vigilante that struck fear into the hearts of criminals throughout the city suddenly becoming a cuddle octopus, greedy to feel your skin on his.

you missed all the small, sweet things about him, the romantic moments that would make your heart melt... but you also missed the steamy, intimate moments where your hands would wander each other's bodies, unwilling to be separated for even a moment.

it had been weeks since you'd had sex, and you missed the way his cock split you open, the low, hoarse growl his voice would become as he crooned poisoned honey into your ear, the delicious mix of praise and degradation turning your brain to mush.

you could feel your own impatience building with each night you went unsatisfied, a dull ache beginning to throb between your legs as your body struggled to adapt. you'd gone from cumming at least once a day to nothing at all in the blink of an eye, and you were having trouble adjusting.

waking up to an empty bed for the third week in a row had nearly sent you into a fit, your panties already soaked through from the remnants of a blissful dream where matt had tied you up, your legs bent and spread wide as he toyed with your puffy folds, his fingers slick with your arousal as he'd slowly slid them inside you...

fed up, your hand had already dipped below the waistband of your sleep shorts, your fingers barely brushing your clit, a soft moan leaving you as your body finally got some relief-

but then your phone rang, matt's handsome face beaming up at you. taunting you.

you answered the phone with a breathy call of "matty" because you knew he'd heard you and two could play at that game, and the low octave with which he says your name makes you moan again, pleasure sparking to life in your core as you sink two fingers into your drooling cunt.

matt calls your name sharply, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

"naughty girl," he admonishes, his voice somehow both sweet and condescending. "so impatient. i'd wondered how long it would take you to break, but i didn't expect it to be so soon."

you whine into the receiver, your anger melting away as you remembered you hadn't been the only one suffering these last few weeks. it must've been nothing short of torture for matt to wake up to the smell of your arousal, his rapidly swelling cock nestled against your ass, aching and eager to satisfy the primal urge to mark you in every way possible. and yet, every morning, he'd forced himself to ignore it, to take a cold shower and hurriedly get dressed, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead before shuffling out of the apartment, still half-hard.

the thought only made you more desperate for him. god, did you wish he was here with you, with his much thicker fingers stuffing your pussy, stretching you out and prepping you so you could take his thick cock. you wanted him under you, breathlessly kneading the flesh of your tits as you bounced on his cock, your eyes rolling back as his impressive length dragged against that special spongey spot inside you with each smack of your hips against his, your cunt squeezing him tight and drawing out the pleasure for both of you.

but the apartment was empty and his side of the bed was cold, his scent faint on the silk sheets you both adored. a pang of loneliness hit you then, wanting his skin on yours and his voice filling your head with mindless praise.

frustrated tears stung at your eyes, but you were determined to make the most of this. you had him on the phone, you had a shot at getting what you wanted. all you needed was a few more words from him, maybe a countdown if you were lucky. you were so worked up, you could probably cum just from him reading you the new york penal code.

so you beg.

"please, matty," you whine prettily, another breathy little moan leaving you as you begin to pump your fingers in and out of your dripping pussy, the friction delicious after so long with nothing. "i need-"

"what you need," matt cuts you off swiftly, his voice so dark and commanding even through the phone that your body freezes, "is some manners. i enjoy spoiling you, sweetheart, but that doesn't mean you can cum without permission."

the whine you let out this time is significantly more petulant than before, the sound high and needy, but matt quickly curbs your bad attitude with another click of his tongue, his disapproval clear.

"don't be a brat," he says, patronizing and confident in his control over you. "just because i've been busy doesn't mean i forgot about my sweet girl."

the pet name makes your breath catch in your throat. matt hardly ever called you that. he'd always preferred the softer, more affectionate nicknames. sweetheart. darling. the occasional honey and sweetie.

but sweet girl? that coveted term of endearment had always been wreathed in coarse shadow instead of suave charm, cooed in the low, dangerous tone of the Devil.

your cunt clenches around the fingers you still have buried within yourself, though they had long since stalled their movements, and matt, damn him, somehow knows that he has you hooked, a satisfied purr meeting your ears.

"there we go," you hear him murmur, pleased. "there's my sweet girl. so good for me, i didn't even have to tell you to stop. no punishment for you, then, but you'll still have to earn your reward."

the breath that leaves you is half desire, half relief, already squirming on the bed. surely he just wanted a show, something to hold him over until the work day was done and he could come home and have his way with you. your moans would replay in his head all day, your breathless cry of his name making his cock twitch beneath his desk every time it echoed through his mind, his thoughts muddled and disjointed as he struggled to focus on the case.

"tell me what to do," you plead, your own thoughts already growing fuzzy around the edges, dizzy with anticipation of the climax he was sure to grant you. "miss you so much, matty... i wanna be good…"

matt groans low on the other line, an excited shiver running through you as you hear the barely audible "fuck" accompany the distinct sound of his belt unbuckling.

"need to hear you, sweet girl," he hisses. a shaky exhale leaves him next, and you imagine he's just freed his cock, the vein running along the shaft throbbing. the tip is probably flushed a dark pink and probably already leaking salty precome, his balls heavy and full from almost a full month of not satisfying himself.

christ, was your mouth watering?

"go on, sweet girl," matt tells you, his voice hoarse. "keep touching yourself. make yourself feel good."

far be it from you to disobey a direct order.

your fingers began thrusting once more, your low, breathy moans becoming high and whiney within minutes, not making an effort to silence yourself. matt wanted a show, so you were going to give him one, noise complaints be damned.

it doesn't take long for the knot within your belly to tighten, your body teetering on the edge of a long-awaited orgasm. you were practically half-delirious, so grateful for the pleasure that you'd already begun expressing your gratitude, your thanks garbled and slurred but genuine nonetheless.

you don't hear the mean, condescending bark of laughter, too caught up in your own ecstasy. you were so close, your forearm burning and your cunt beginning to pulse as you neared the edge, your jaw falling slack as you prepared for the monumental release of pleasure-

"stop."

your body obeyed without consciously thinking about it, your fingers slipping out of you. your poor cunt clenches and flutters around nothing, feeling achingly empty as your pleasure stalls and curdles, spoiling like milk in the sun.

you lay there for a moment, your chest heaving as you try to figure out what happened. your pussy was sensitive and tingling, still pulsing weakly with a ruined orgasm that had given you no satisfaction. you wanted more, damn it, but most of all, you wanted him.

"matty," you cry brokenly, vision blurry with frustrated tears. "why did you... why..."

Your rambling was slurred but audible to your tormenter, his delighted chuckles making you shudder.

"sorry, sweet girl," matt said, not an ounce of remorse in his voice, "but i wanna be there with you when you cum. i need to feel that pretty pussy squeeze my cock, need to hear you moan my name as i fuck you."

he lets out a strained groan, and you imagine he has his fist wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, preventing himself from reaching the pinnacle he'd so cruelly snatched you away from.

you hadn't cum, but neither did he.

you whine at the thought, your pussy still fluttering weakly. you sniffle quietly, still mourning your ruined orgasm, and there's a burst of static, like he'd just sighed.

"you did so well for me, sweetie," matt murmurs, his tone no longer mean, but warm and loving. "i know it hurts, but i'll make it up to you tonight. i'll make you feel so good, you'll forget this ever happened."

though your eyes are still glassy with tears, matt's subtle switch in temperament did wonders for your mood, the promise of pleasure soothing your wounded pride. you sniffle again, working up the courage to meekly inquire, "promise?"

matt hums again, and you can imagine the pleased grin on his face as he purrs your name, the sound of his voice making you melt.

"i promise."

a/n: my brain literally couldn’t focus on anything else while i had this mf rattling around in there. this will be an actual oneshot at some point where we actually get some gratification, maybe even a two-parter! depending on how fried my brain is after cranking out multiple 2k word finals, it could be posted in either 5 days or 5 years or anywhere in between.

i do actually like writing guys i swear 😭 but i’m a humanities major so i do a lot of writing for my degree and my free time consists of thinking about the roman empire (for my major) and reading greek philosophy (also for my major).

glad i got this out as proof of life, didn’t mean to be horny on main but there is no other valid response when it comes to mr. murdock. i hope you guys enjoyed and let me know what you think!

- estrella ★

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #no use of y/n #x reader fic #daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x fem!reader #x reader #nmcu fic #nmcu daredevil #marvel daredevil #daredevil fic #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock fic #fanfic #fanfiction #second person pov #2nd person pov

[greenerteacups]

Hi! Just wanted to say the latest chapter is lovely & amazing & sweet & had me smiling the whole time! I absolutely love your characterisation of everyone, especially Draco, so it was so so lovely to return to this world & to his thoughts!! with his best friend and crush at malfoy manor no less! All the yearning is already off to a great start hehe I am so excited for the rest of book 5!

Wanted to ask you how has it been for you to write this new book and volume? Has your writing process changed since when you’d first begun taking on a long form project like this?

& also are there any moments or surprises in this book that you’re especially excited about?

sending so much love & gratitude for you and your incredible works 💓

Thank you so much! This is really encouraging, I so appreciate it.

Inasmuch as I can use this metaphor without having kids myself, I sort of see each of the books as a different child. The first one flew out in basically a few weeks of very intensive writing, and it was a total dream — plot, pacing, symbolism, major beats, all fell into place basically without effort. The character stuff was the hardest, as I've written about before, but even then, the glorious part of writing beginnings is it's the most energy you'll ever have for a project, so the lows were pretty soft lows. Book 2, in contrast, I had to drag kicking and screaming by its ankle from under the bottommost mattress of my brain. It's one of my least favorite books (tone problem; COS has killer plot/setting/ingredients for a YA novel, but it's stuck in the doldrums of Harry Potter's well-documented Early-Installment Weirdness, before Cedric Diggory slams the gas and upshifts the whole series into its correct age bracket). More specifically, once I'd gone through and picked out everything in the book that happened because of Lucius, I didn't have a plot — hey alexa how do you rewrite Chamber of Secrets when We Got No Fucking Chamber Of Secrets — and oh by the way, even if you want to do a moody tone/political setup book, remember that your protagonists are still twelve, so if you go too dark or too intense, you'll risk torpedoing your readers' suspension of disbelief. Good luck, Charlie.

Book 3 felt the most like its own novel, if that makes sense? It's the last truly feel-good book of the series; it's a great stand-alone mystery novel with relatively low stakes. Plus you get a bunch of the big series icons: patronuses, dementors, werewolves, Hogsmeade, the Marauders' Map, and time turners arithmancy. It just felt like a good old-fashioned motherfucking romp of a mystery/adventure story, before any of the complex character work and major stakes of the late books come in.

Book 4 was the most fun I've had writing anything maybe ever. I don't even know what it was. Maybe the tournament arc, honestly? Love me a tournament arc. But in any case, I opened every new chapter feeling a tingle of excitement for what I was gonna get to do. Oh, and the romance started, finally, Jesus God (if it feels like a slow burn reading, just imagine what it felt like writing it, when everything takes ten times as long, and you have to figure out how to word the fucker.)

Book 5, in contrast, has felt much less like that tingle of "here we go!" and more like "oh, man, this is gonna be cool." Because this is the arc of the story that composed the original idea for Lionheart, literally years ago, and to be honest, I didn't think I'd get this far! If you'd asked me "do you know that it's going to take you 500,000 words of backstory before you can start writing that concept you're thinking about, and you're going to do it anyway?" I would have said: "absolutely not, strange mind-reader!" But like... I'm here! Finally! And it's... real now? Like, this isn't just a bunch of clips of scenes in my head anymore! That's rad!

That being said, it's definitely been slower than Book 4, because I kept switching back to my outline document to make sure that certain things were set up properly, and that I hadn't lost any of the plot threads or forgotten a minor beat that was vitally important for the story three chapters later. And I had a minor crisis about three months ago when I ripped out about 8 chapters in the first third of the book — basically everything from September to December — because I'd done a readthrough to check pacing (big mistake! never edit while drafting, that's satan talking) and realized I had a missing storyline. Like, there was a whole layer of the story that was just. Missing. Not there. And the existing text really couldn't fit another thread, so instead of taking weeks to pore through and try to sift out what I could save, I needed to factory reset and start over. And I didn't want to! I vividly remember sitting there with my head in my hands, trying not to weep, because I'd decimated 90,000 words of work in a single edit. But it had to be done. Because the story wasn't going to work. And now (hopefully) it will.

And of course, there's still that sense of excitement and exhilaration from before. Always. But whereas Book 4 felt like a delicious chocolate pudding, Book 5 is a medium-rare steak.

(Book 6, so far, is four shots of espresso and a whiskey chaser. FWIW.)

#greenteacup asks #lionheart #lionheart spoilers #dramione

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

genuine question, where did the monthly romance novel thing come from? because you don’t seem to enjoy most of them 😭

okay, so, last February I had a hair-brained scheme to read, like, six romance novels in February so that I could "review" (strong word for my usual reading roundups but whatever) like a booktuber. to be clear I wasn't under the impression that anyone would really enjoy this but me and my beloved @dykerory, but I do a lot of things to entertain an extremely small audience and it's never stopped me before.

I was also genuinely interested in tackling a low-stakes project like that. I've never been a romance reader but I wanted to make sure I wasn't missing anything, which is why I initially planned to check out some big names and well-reviewed titles to get a sense of what the genre was all about. trust me, I wouldn't have put Red, White and Royal Blue on the list if I wasn't trying to do as thorough a study as possible in such an abridged amount of time.

anyway, I decided to get an early start and read the first book I'd picked out, a buzzy wlw romance that was getting a lot of positive buzz - Mistakes Were Made, by Meryl Wilsner, and boy howdy that mistake WAS made! the thing I realized immediately was that reading six romance novels back to back to back was definitely possible, since they're generally extremely short and not particularly rigorous, but in terms of content? oh, man, ingesting that much romance novel in a short period of time would make my brain stat dribbling out my nose.

so I amended the terms of my own completely non-binding contract so that I'd have to read twice as many romance novels over the course of an entire year, giving myself WAY more time to really explore what was big in the genre and try to really figure out the appeal.

and uuuh I really like it! they're quick and they're fun and they make for a really nice break in between the other kinds of books I rea. I like a lot of hefty nonfiction and dense-ass speculative fiction and moderately harrowing literary fiction. a romance novel makes for a nice little palate cleanse, like going for a little walk in the middle of a workday to break up the monotony. and even when I don't enjoy the story itself, the experience makes me better at recognizing and critiquing what I do and don't like in a romance novel and in a story generally. I genuinely do feel like I'm succeeding in my goal of learning a lot about the genre and its conventions, and understanding the appeal it holds for so many readers. I learn as much reading a romance novel as I do any other work of fiction.

also, I don't know how else to put this, but I'm a recreational hater and I loooooove poking the shit I don't like to figure out what makes it tick. I watched all 4.5 seasons of Gotham out of pure bile fascination, come on. this IS positive enrichment for me and I wouldn't do it otherwise.

#bookblr

[cookies-and-music]

Ghost. - part 9: Toxic.

I suggest listening to Mery on a Cross by Ghost reading this.

Part 1 here - part 10 here .

PAIRING: TVA!LokixOC

RATING: ALL

WARNINGS: Captain America wouldn't approve the language

SUMMARY: Loki meets sombody at the TVA he once knew. Unfortunately she doesn't seem to remember him.

To solve the chaos that had erupted at the TVA and set everything right before it collapsed, a series of answers were needed, none of which anyone present had; therefore, while Loki and Mobius were busy trying to find X-5 and consequently Sylvie, Lydia was tasked with finding Renslayer and Miss Minutes. A burden that had come along with her promotion to analyst.

"We haven't found any trace of Renslayer's tempad," Lydia approached briskly, accompanied by Casey and B-15, to Mobius's desk where he and Loki were busy with X-5's tempad, "but we traced the recipient of her last message: Miss Minutes."

"Moreover, Renslayer and He Who Remains are in cahoots," Loki nodded, "I found out while I was in the past."

"What a woman... full of surprises," B-15 scoffed.

"What... are you two doing?" Lydia leaned in close to Loki. Not because she desperately wanted his proximity, especially after believing him dead, partly because of her. Absolutely not. It was to get a better look at the tempad, of course.

"We're trying to figure out how this modified tempad of X-5 works," Loki turned to her, and Lydia could hear his breath with every syllable he uttered. Not that it affected her.

"A man accustomed to using 80s technology and an alien god from Asgard?" She asked amusedly, glancing from one to the other.

"Hey, look, we're doing just fine," Mobius retorted.

"No, not really," Casey shook his head.

"I think my team could get better results," she reached out with a smirk, her hand open towards Loki, who exchanged a glance with Mobius before handing the tempad over to Lydia.

"Also, I'd like to be present when you question X-5" She passed the object to Casey.

"What?" Mobius spread his arms.

"He might have relevant information about the Minus/Renslayer issue, which is my case."

"Our case" B-15 emphasized.

"Sure" Lydia rolled her eyes, and Loki shot her a glance, amused at how she was turning work into a personal competition with Mobius, "anyway, it's a request you can't refuse, Mobius," she smiled, "it would be unprofessional."

Mobius rolled his eyes, "Am I ever going to get rid of you? How do you manage to worm your way in everywhere?"

"I'm very flexible."

Loki's imagination projected a couple of images of how flexible Lydia could be, but he pushed them back before anyone could notice.

---

"Bred is an asshole, so don't let him provoke you," Mobius had said, but it was very difficult. And Loki had just offered the opportunity to sting by saying his help was needed because there were "lives at stake."

"Lives at stake," Brad repeated. "You've got a lot of nerve... everyone here knows what you're doing, you're just trying to make up for all the terrible and horrible things you've done in life. You're pathetic."

Lydia clenched her jaw but didn't speak. Provocation, it was just provocation.

"I've read your file. You're the problem. Every time we've found one of you. You think you're special, but you're not. No matter what you wear or what lies you tell, in the end, all you do is destroy those around you," Brad glanced towards Lydia. She just looked at him with disgust before glancing at Loki, who kept his low.

"As it happened with your mother."

Lydia snapped.

"You ugly piece of shit," she managed only to take a step towards him before Loki blocked her with his body.

"You know that's what he wants," he said into her ear, "don't let him win." Lydia shifted her gaze to him and took a deep breath, trying to internalize all the calmness his blue irises conveyed.

"Don't listen to him, Princhett," Brad jeered, drawing her attention again, "what does he know about victories when all he can do is losing?"

Loki grabbed her chin, bringing her eyes back to him. Lydia swallowed and nodded slightly. She could handle it, she was fine. She was a professional.

"Stop trying to be a hero, buddy. You're a villain, and you're good at it."

Loki let her go, turning back to Brad.

"Thanks, Brad.” Loki let out a bitter laugh “Thanks a lot. I'm very touched. You're right. I've done terrible and horrible things," Lydia clenched her jaw again, to contain herself, "Yes, maybe that's who I am, they know it well. It's the real me... a loser," he smiled bitterly "I always have been and always will be."

Lydia glanced from him to Brad, trying to understand Loki's strategy.

"And perhaps I was... holding back something," he dangerously approached Brad, "maybe I was just waiting for the right moment, a moment like this, to do terrible and horrible things," he looked down at Brad, "to you."

Lydia hoped he would punch him. She really wanted to see that smug bastard's face distorted. No, it wasn't professional, but it was fair.

"So I'll ask you again: where is Sylvie?" He stressed her name.

"You're too fixated on her," Brad sneered.

"Okay, that's enough," Mobius grabbed Loki by the shoulder, pulling him towards Lydia who approached him, putting a hand on his arm. Not to stop him but to let him know she understood the discomfort he felt.

"You need a psychologist," Brad sneered, watching the scene, "I know one who does couples therapy, or maybe group therapy would be better since there are three of you."

She could have killed him. How much would it cost her? She was dead in the sacred timeline, and the TVA was about to collapse, she had nothing to lose.

"There's too much tension here," Mobius tried to lighten the mood, "Brad, cooperate with us, and we'll send you back to your beloved timeline, as if nothing ever happened. What do you say?" he offered with a smile.

"Would you?"

"Of course, I promise."

Brad let out a fake sigh before bursting into laughter, "Did you see? Damn Mobius, you should be an actor."

"I'm not, I'm an analyst."

"No, you're not!" Brad blurted out, "You're not an analyst because none of this is real. Do you know who you are at least in the timeline? The TVA isn't your real home. Do you have any idea who you've left behind? What your life could be like? You know they've taken our lives, you need to wake up."

"I'm awake."

"No, you need to wake up."

"I'm awake," Mobius repeated, this time more annoyed.

"You're asleep until you wake up, you're nothing. I'm nothing. She's nothing. I don't even know where to start," he looked at Loki, "You're nothing, and until you wake up, you're nonexistent, you're-"

Mobius jumped on him, with a speed Lydia could never have predicted, punching him square in the face.

"It's you who's nothing!"

Loki grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him away as Mobius continued to curse.

“You heard me? You’re nothing”

Lydia followed them out, letting B-15 close the door behind them.

Mobius walked away from the room quickly, still swearing about how Brad was, in short, an asshole.

"Is he okay?" Lydia looked up at Loki who shook his head, sighing.

"I'll go see. I'll update you later; I need to ask you some things."

Shit.

Lydia nodded, smiling in his direction, before Loki ran after Mobius.

---

Lydia spent the whole afternoon at the desk, unable to work, spending hours tapping the pencil on the wood. Her head kept reminding her of how Loki had tackled her with his body. They had never been so close. They had never touched so much.

Then he had approached Brad, and the tension she had sensed before had only increased when Loki had donned the villain's mask. Could it be true that she, the one of the sacred timeline, had really fallen in love with him, as Loki had claimed? Lydia shook her head, what she had seen in the footage was a confused, delirious, and fragile Loki, while the one she had seen a little earlier exuded power.

And then there was what Brad had said. "There’s three of you."

She wasn't in anything, not with Loki and least of all with Sylvie. And even if this absurd triangle were real, was Lydia the other woman? No, it was unfair. She had known Loki first, and then he had declared himself to her, sort of. And she had rejected him... more or less. Well, not really, she had rejected the him from the past. But she had, in fact, insulted the present him.

And if this particular interest in Loki was only due to the fact that he had distanced himself? That his focuns was on someone else? Was it possible that she was that toxic?

Her brain was exploding, and after a while, her eyelids began to droop, and Lydia decided to give up, burying her head between her arms on the desk.

When he arrived, Loki found her still asleep.

He smiled, his expression softening. Lately, Lydia had returned to having a scowling expression, always serious, like the Lydia he had known on Earth, while asleep she seemed to radiate so much tranquility and peace. Maybe it was really him making everything worse, ruining everyone's lives.

Loki reached out, caressing her head, and Lydia jerked awake, opening her eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

Lydia blinked for a moment, focusing on him.

"Don't worry, I wasn't sleeping," she yawned.

"No?"

"I was resting."

A chuckle escaped Loki, disappearing immediately, leaving a sad expression on his face.

"Are you okay?".

"I was thinking about Brad's words," he leaned against Lydia's desk, supporting himself with his hands, "when I met you here at the TVA, your life was going smoothly, and the same was on Earth, before I met you-"

"Loki," Lydia put a hand on his, "you shouldn't give weight to what Brad said; he was trying to provoke us. He knows our stories and what can hurt us, and he uses it to his advantage."

Loki covered her hand with his other one and looked at her, smiling faintly. With Lydia, he felt like he had someone on his side, not alone, but he had felt this before, and in the end, it had been just a deception.

"How did you know... about my mother?"

Shit. She knew that question was coming. The horrible put-down Brad had said to Loki, she was not supposed to understand what it was referred to.

Lydia widened her eyes, withdrew her hand from Loki's, clutching it with the other and lowering her gaze.

"When I thought you were dead, I felt very guilty and... well, you could say I missed you... I wanted to see you, and the only thing I had of yours was the file," her cheeks colored slightly red, and if she had raised her gaze, she would have seen the same embarrassed expression on Loki's face, "I know it was a terrible invasion of your privacy... I’m sorry about that" she timidly raised her eyes towards him.

"It's okay" Loki shook his head, "in fact, maybe I'm glad... that you've seen the real me."

"There's no real you, Loki. There's only you, here and now. Ignore Brad, please, he's just an asshole, one who looks through the keyhole, sees brown, and thinks it's chocolate when it's just shit."

He laughed, nodding.

"By the way, any news? How's Mobius?"

"He's okay, for now... I think," Loki swallowed, "as for Brad, he confessed to knowing where Sylvie is."

Lydia clenched her jaw, nodding.

"We need her, Lydia. When I was in the future, I saw the TVA collapsing, and she was there. She must know something" he leaned towards her.

"I didn't say anything" she vaguely said, keeping her gaze low.

"I know you didn't exactly start off on the right foot, you two, but there's no room for likes or dislikes here."

"Where is she?" Lydia looked up at him.

"In a McDonald's in Oklahoma, on Earth," Loki paused for a moment, "Do you want to come?"

"I don't think I'd be very useful" Lydia shook her head, "but I have a request."

"Anything."

They looked at each other for a second that seemed endless and yet too short.

"A milkshake" she said after a moment, "strawberry flavored."

"I think I can do that."

---

But when Loki appeared in the control room upon later that day, he didn't have any disgustingly sweet strawberry milkshake; instead, he brought something much more indigestible for Lydia. Sylvie.

Guys, thanks a lot for the support you've shown me, again feel free to leave a heart, a comment or to reblog, this really helps a lot. I had reached a point were I thought this ff was completed. I changed my mind and hopefully we'll have an happy ending. Actually, I've really no idea how it'll end. I'm but an humble narrator of other's adventures.

#fanfic #loki series #loki #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x oc #loki season 2 #loki x reader images #loki x you #loki x y/n #tva!loki #tva!lokixreader #tva!lokixoc #tom hiddleston

[samssims]

Hi Sam! I was wondering if I could ask for some advice on how to make simblr fun again? I love storytelling (it's how I have fun with the game) but lately with writing posts and even in game, I just find myself stressing over if it's good/interesting enough or if I took good screenshots, if my writing is good, etc. I love this game and sharing my stories with this community, so it sucks to feel like this. Thank you sm ♥

Oh Nonny, how I feel this pain. I wish I had a sure fire answer to this but sadly there isn't just one thing that will work.

I will put some advice below for some things that have worked for me in my experience if you're interested in trying them out to try to find that spark again!

Now I have been on tumblr sharing my sims since 2013 so I have seen the community change a lot. Things change, people come and go, it's just the natural way of things. So a lot of the time your community can change around you and so a few years ago sims storytelling was really popular and it was the thing everyone was doing. And I mean everyone.

But now things have sort of fallen off or shifted and there is no shame in that for those who moved onto other things and hobbies. Sims storytelling, at it's core, is a hobby. No one is making money off of it (unless you write it all down and get it published in which case, hell yeah go you!)

That being said, finding your spark again is going to be finding what YOU like about storytelling in the sims.

So here are some tips you can try out in the game to keep it fresh and exciting:

Play the Game

The game has changed a lot and added a lot. It came out in 2014. It's about to be 10 years old. With expansions still being added. Honestly having a family where you can just play through what the game offers you can offer inspiration on how to use in game things for story related things later on.

I have found having a lowkey gameplay (for yourself or even for your blog if you are posting) is an easy way to stay active in the community while keeping things low stakes and casual for yourself while you work on finding your spark again.

Change Up your Post Style

Idk about you Nonny, but nothing gets me less motivated than having to edit photos. If I could just point, shoot, and post, I would have content coming out my ears. Which is what I started doing with my Princess Legacy. All I do is crop it. I add some things here and there but really it's all pretty much easy.

Now I have done it all.

Prose on photos.

Prose under photos:

Icons Only:

Gameplay Only:

And finally just cropped:

Now what is the best? That is personal preference especially for the project you are doing. However I have definitely discovered the crop method to be SUPER helpful.

It makes me not have to worry about the whole photo. Sometimes I have this SUPER awesome detail in the back of a photo but when I crop them I lose all that. Which is not good for storytelling lets be honest but does force me to focus on what is actually important in the shot.

Example: Here is the full cottage photo from above You can see that I cropped out a lot of the cottage in favor of being able to see the deer and swans as i thought that was more a cozy fairytale vibe than just the cottage itself. I lost a lot of this detail yet the point still came across.

TBH the paired crop photos also makes me cut out a lot of access photos if they don't have a pair. It's sort of made me realize how much I don't need to take screenshots of. Though I am definitely an overtaker of photos so I always have plenty to choose from. Sometimes I even queue them then look back and realize they aren't needed and delete. It's humbled me a bit.

I could break down every one of these posting styles but that's a whole other thing you didn't ask about.

TLDR of this section is to experiment with how you post. You can have a lot of fun with that.

If Something is Boring, Skip it.

Do you hate the infant stage? Age them past it. Do you hate the winter months in game? Set seasons to never have winter. Do you hate in game holidays ruining your plans? Delete them all from your calendar. Is it a crucial part to your story? Not anymore. Write around it. Or find some creative angles and dialogue to write over it.

Make the game fit you!

Follow the Inspo

Have inspiration to make a new sim in CAS? Do it! Want to make a whole new save? Have an idea for one scene that could start a whole story but you have nothing else for it? DO IT!!!

The game is supposed to be fun. If you have inspiration for a project, live in it. Have fun with it.

But Sam, what if only lasts 2 weeks and I never touch it again?

Me too, babes. Happens to me all the time. Own it. Keep it around in case you want to mess with it later. Have 10 million saves. It's your life and if it brings you a moment of joy to work on it, then it totally is worth it.

If you want to be like me: Be chaotic and post it too. Then private the posts later when you decide to never touch it again. Never delete tho. I always tend to regret deleted things.

Find Your Community

You should ultimately write and create for yourself, but find others who are doing it too! Lift them up as well! Use one day a week on your blog to give reblogs or shoutouts to your fellow creators and writers! It's all about lifting each other up and making friends who all have the same hobby as us.

Try New Challenges

A lot of my sims storytelling started from inspiration around legacy challenges. I loved to take challenge rules and figure out how to make a story around them. But remember: Rules are made to be broken. Especially in favor of a good story.

If you are working on a current challenge/story, find another to merge with it or to give yourself a heck of a fun plot twist. There are no rules!

Have Fun!

This is sort of the whole crux of it, right? And if you're not having fun then...

Take a Break

You are not beholden to your queue! Let it die out! Disappear for 6 months. Return when you want. Go play Animal Crossing or BG3 or whatever it is at the moment. Sims is a hobby. But it does not have to be your ONLY hobby. Let your brain rest.

In my case, whenever I leave the sims I am always filled with ideas and ready to come back in like 3 days.

This could also mean take a break from your save too. Maybe spend some time in CAS. Or in build mode. Or cleaning out your mods. You can still do sims things while letting your story brain rest.

TLDR:

There is no right answer for this, Nonny. I promise your photos are all gorgeous and your story is wonderful! But creativity like anything ebbs and flows so give yourself that grace to let yourself rest and just enjoy the game again, or enjoy time away from it! You deserve it you superstar creator!

#Sam Speaks #nonsims #looooong post #so sorry I got carried away #had to wait to get to my laptop to answer this one #which is why it took me a minute #hope you find your spark nonny!

[reasonandfaithinharmony]

2023 writing gif-making round up

Rules (adapted for fic, gifs, art, etc.): Share what you made this year! It can be works you posted to Ao3, Wattpad, Tumblr, or anywhere else! You can share everything you made or just the projects you're most excited about. Thank you for the tag, @thisbuildinghasfeelings!

January

Um. Coming to terms with the idea of 2023? I dunno. But certainly nothing creative happened here.

February

Boyfriend → husband (Schitt's Creek) — A side-by-side comparison of how David refers to Patrick in season 4 and season 6. (Brought to you courtesy of a lovely text post by @jesuisici33.)

David questioning Stevie's motives (Schitt’s Creek) — A fun look at David's expressive face. 😄

March and April

An existential crisis. Or two. Or five. 🙃 Managed to finish absolutely nothing.

I did come in contact with a lot of 911 Lone Star content, however. Which explains everything that follows. Oops?

May

Marry me. (911 Lone Star) — Ah, my first gif set for this show. A parallel of TK referring to Carlos as his husband when he proposes, and then during their wedding ceremony.

Wedding → honeymoon (911 Lone Star) — Holding hands right after they first kiss as husbands. (Promo footage that didn't actually make the final episode cut). And holding hands poolside on their honeymoon.

Note: From here on out, everything in this list is for Lone Star, unless otherwise specified.

June

TK and Andrea helping Carlos get ready — A parallel set highlighting similar moments from Best of Men and a deleted scene from In Sickness and in Health

We almost forgot. Your boutonnière. — In which I attempt to put a couple pieces of unaired footage back together: the deleted scene with Andrea and Carlos + promo footage of what must be the same scene

Heart tutorial — Danielle Savre and Stefania Spampinato teach Rafael Silva how to make a heart sign with his hands at the First Responders Reunion 🫶

July

🤨 (affectionate) — Listen. I love this dynamic. Had to do the parallel set.

Nothing ever stays the same, Carlos. — A look at TK and Carlos' conversation in 2x04 in parallel with Carlos' wedding vows. The first set I wanted to do for Lone Star. Took me a while to get to it because I wasn't sure how to put it together.

August

TK needs you all to RSVP — My first attempt at this type of post. Incorrect quotes? Text post memes? I don't know what to call them, really. But it was definitely fun. And then it became the thing I did most often. Lol.

And if it never changes? // What if everything changes again? — A parallel set for me and ~5 other people, putting Tarlos in 2x04 side by side with Marcel the Shell with Shoes On

September

You're a menace to society *smooch smooch smooch* — My next incorrect quotes/meme post. And my contribution to ascribing cat-like behavior to TK.

I like him a normal amount — A fandom reaction gif, essentially. Courtesy of Joey Tribbiani on Friends.

Love is stored in humans finding out we can make heart shapes with our hands — Had to revisit the heart tutorial for Rafa. This time as one of the incorrect quotes/text posts.

When you can be silly and slutty with them — Oh, I had fun with this look at TK and Carlos' relationship. 😍

Pretty sure this happened at least once — In which we learn TK was seen trying to catch a frog outside the firehouse. Obviously.

October

Carlos is lit like an angel — Commentary on that beautiful moment from 2x02 where TK falls into Carlos' arms.

I put my emotions into my cooking. // This tastes… horny? — A playful and sexy look at Carlos in the kitchen with TK, and then heading upstairs… 😏

I adore you. Why are you like this? I’m going to kiss you with such fervor… — Oh, just exploring the Tarlos relationship dynamic with a text post and a scene from 3x18.

November

Unedited Gif Game (26 entries so far) — This has been very fun. I think it was good for me to have a bunch of low-stakes gif projects where I was not in charge. Lol. I will spare you individual links to each of them. But they should all be in the tag linked here. I will probably make this an ongoing thing, as long as it's not annoying everyone.

December

Episode vs. Promo: Yee-Haw (1x02) — Let's start diving into some more unaired footage, shall we? And let's start with some alt takes on that first make-out scene.

Missing moments: then and now — From an almost-kiss in 1x02 to an alt kiss from their wedding.

You're a miracle, TK Strand. My miracle. — A rather large close-up gif of that alt wedding kiss. Why? So we can see the teardrop that beads up under Carlos' eye.

Tags below the cut…

Tagging: @rmd-writes, @reyesstrand, @strandnreyes, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @carlos-in-glasses, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @birdclowns, @welcometololaland, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @rosedavid, @heartstringsduet, @noxsoulmate, @chicgeekgirl89, @paperstorm, @tailoredshirt, @guardian-angle22, @swearphil, @carlos-tk, @three-drink-amy, @orchidscript, @danieljradcliffe, @lightningboltreader + open tag!

#tag game #2023 writing (gif-making) round up #2023 round up #mythings #mysc #my911ls #tarlos #911 lone star #schitt's creek #david x patrick

[sigritandtheelves]

All Along, Like Fire (Part 6)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Mature | 2.9k words | MSR, AU

A/N: I’m sorry this part took so long, I’ve been working at it bit by bit for like 2 months 😣

—

September, 1995

Washington D.C.

Diana Fowley knew that her life was in danger. She’d failed in monumental fashion, and she could insist to her dying breath that it hadn’t been her fault—that Fox’s stumbling onto the DAT tape happened while she was out of town and there’s nothing she could have done to stop it, but it wouldn’t matter. They would crush her like an empty soda can if she ceased to be useful, and especially if she proved a liability instead.

The city was under a late-summer heat wave that made the air feel even thicker than the tension around her alone. Violence seemed imminent as tempers so easily flared with the temperature. Diana paced the apartment she shared with Fox, a man that she told herself she still loved, despite the lies between them: her secrets, his shifting devotions. His basketball peeked out from the closet and his dirty clothes were in the hamper. Diana picked up one of his shirts and fingered the ratty collar above its FBI logo. She held it to her nose and felt a wave of sadness, of longing. He was a good man, and she’d lost him, let him slip away from both herself and the project she’d hoped he would come to embrace. But in the last year, the deceptions had become too much. She’d had to spend more and more time away in order to live with herself, and after the plan for Scully’s abduction had backfired, she knew that he had crossed some kind of invisible barrier. He would never be hers again. Everything she had done to try and put a wedge between him and his partner had only drawn them closer together.

Diana had a right to be jealous, didn’t she? In spite of her lies? At least she hadn’t fallen in love with someone else. She sat on the bed worrying her lower lip between her teeth. She knew she’d lost her husband, but perhaps she could still make it through this with her life.

What she needed was leverage.

—

Farmington, NM

The public library had three computers connected to the internet for public use. Mulder and Scully sat huddled around one of them, carefully wording an email to the Gunmen from a temporary account.

“Where should we meet?” Mulder kept his voice low.

“I don’t want to put the Hosteens in any more danger,” Scully said. “Maybe Albuquerque?” She oriented herself to the map in her head. “Or we could head north into Colorado.”

Mulder nodded. “Yeah. Get the map.”

They decided on a tourist town called Pagosa Springs, where they could blend in like late-season vacationers. “Hey, if things go downhill, we can always hide out in the mountains,” Mulder said.

“Too bad I forgot to pack my skis.”

He smiled at her, but it was only a half-smile. They both knew how dangerous this was—how much was a stake. They had aligned all their pieces on the board, and now it was the other team’s turn. He just hoped Skinner was really on their side.

—

FBI Headquarters

Everybody wanted a damned meeting, had a plan, had a dog in this fight, it seemed. Walter Skinner was giving himself a headache with all this jaw clenching. He was everyone’s middleman, though he was just as vulnerable to the powers circling them all like sharks. This playing field was full of snares and trapdoors.

“Agent Fowley, you said you had reason to believe your life was in jeopardy? Why not go to your own AD about this?”

The woman seated across from his desk maintained perfect composure, but cleared her throat before answering. “My work has put me in a somewhat compromised position—something I’m sure you can understand, Sir.”

The eyes were so deliberate. Skinner frowned, not liking either her implications or the fact that she seemed to have a lot more information than he realized. “How do you mean?”

“I’m afraid that Fox’s acquisition of the D.O.D files has put more than a few lives at risk, my own included. I was out of town when the DAT tape was handed over to him, but certain… factions,” she paused to choose her words carefully, “seem to think I can be held accountable.” Again, she looked directly at him. “They’re willing to set more than an underground train fire to keep that information in check.”

Another jaw clench. That cigarette smoking bastard had been in here again today trying to weasel information out of him, and Skinner had no doubt that there would be more bodies if the tape, and the information on it, didn’t reappear soon. “I didn’t realize you were involved at all,” he said.

“Not with the tape directly, but it’s been made clear to me that I need to protect it,” she said cryptically. “I have to get in touch with Fox. It’s essential that I arrange a meeting soon.”

Skinner grunted. “Well, you’re in luck on that front.”

Diana’s eyebrows raised. “You know where he is?”

“Not exactly, but I know someone who does.” He eyed the brunette suspiciously—so cool, always—and wondered if it were safe to bring her to a meeting with her own husband. It was a risk he thought he'd have to take if they were going to make any kind of bargain. “Meet me at Dulles tomorrow morning at the United counter. Seven o’clock.”

Diana nodded briskly and stood. “Thank you, sir.”

—

Pagosa Springs, CO

Mulder and Scully sat at the back of Brenda’s Diner, which looked like the kind of restaurant Cracker Barrel was trying to be. The tables were glass-covered wagon wheels, and there were more than a few cowboy hats between their booth and the door. The two agents barely looked away from the entrance to sip their coffees.

“There,” Mulder said when he spotted Skinner’s bald head and glasses. Then he stiffened when he saw the brunette with him. “Shit.” He reached under the table to quickly squeeze Scully’s knee. “Diana is with him.”

Scully forced herself to breathe deeply, to keep her anger tucked inside her, despite everything they now knew. She watched Mulder’s face as Diana approached, as he bottled his own rage into a careful mask.

Skinner spoke first, nodding at them and sliding into the booth. “Agents.”

Diana reached out to touch Mulder’s arm. “Hello, Fox.”

He didn’t meet her gaze or reciprocate her touch, but instead focused on his boss. Diana glanced at Scully only long enough to take note of her husband’s protective position and body language toward the other woman. She sat beside Skinner, and the wooden table was like a vast ocean between the two parties.

“First,” Mulder began, “you should know that we’ve read everything in the files.” He looked pointedly at Diana, who paled, but to her credit, didn’t flinch.

Skinner nodded. “I had assumed as much, based on your prolonged absence.”

“But we're not the only ones who have read it. If their plan is to kill us, all of that information will go public. We have multiple contingencies in place.”

"And you don't think the men we're dealing with could hunt all of those down?"

"No," Mulder said, displaying a confidence he was only half sure he felt. "Not all of them."

The older man grunted in acknowledgement.

“We want to go home,” Scully explained. “And we want to keep our jobs. But there are things we learned from that tape that we can’t pretend we don’t know. Personal things.”

Skinner cleared his throat, as if to speak, but Diana beat him to it. “I realize that you’ll want to distance yourself as much as you can from me,” she said to Mulder specifically, her eyes pleading, "Especially after the things you read." She couldn't bring herself to look at his partner. “But I can also help you make your bargain with them.”

Mulder had tried to keep his calm, but his anger bubbled up beyond his self-control. “Diana, why are you here?” he asked in a sharp whisper. “Are you representing the project’s interests? You’re gonna take our bargaining chips back to that smoking son-of-a-bitch so he can twist us around even further?”

“No.” Her voice was firm and steady; she had her own anger to contend with. “You don’t know what they have on me, Fox. You don’t know what they threatened me with, how I worked to keep you safe—keep you alive—by stopping you from knowing too much.”

Mulder’s jaw dropped open for a moment before he barked out a humorless laugh. “So that was your role in this sham of a marriage? Gatekeeper of what I was allowed to know?”

“Partially,” she said, perfectly frank. “Their plan was to bring you in slowly.”

“Bring him in?” Skinner asked.

“To the project. He’d always been slated to take his father’s place.” She locked eyes with Mulder, and there was something pleading and earnest in her gaze. “Fox, whatever you may think about the things you read—about me and about the project—no matter how horrible they sound, you have to know that the goal has always been to save humanity. The project has always been about helping people survive.”

“Which people?” Scully asked, her voice sharp. “The women you abducted and rendered infertile? The children and family members you took as collateral? Or the hapless people you’ve tortured and experimented on in the name of ‘progress’? How are you any different than the Nazi scientists you’ve collaborated with?”

“I’m not the devil here,” Diana said quietly. “I didn’t devise these methods or decide who would suffer.”

“No, you just carried out their orders,” Mulder said. Their voices were hushed, but some restaurant patrons had noticed the tension at their table. Mulder sat back and took a sip of his coffee.

“Look,” Skinner said, “we could argue about this all afternoon, but we need to decide—“

“Tell me about the babies,” Scully interrupted, unable to contain the question any longer, to let the conversation move too far away from her burning need to know. “The children. Do I—“ her voice caught. “Are there babies out there with my—“ and she couldn’t finish.

“Yes,” Diana said. “Just one viable specimen at the moment, an eight-month-old in California.”

The breath went out of her lungs, and Scully squeezed her napkin so hard, it was shredding to pieces. Specimen. The word was like a hot fist crushing her heart. Mulder’s face had gone grey, and even Skinner looked stricken. Her baby—genetically, at least. An experiment. A specimen.

“Is it… okay?” This from Mulder, who was also trying to find words. Scully heard the subtext in his voice: is it human?

Diana fidgeted, like she didn’t have time for this, like she wanted to talk about more important things. How she’d weasel out of this situation with her own life, for example. She sighed. “Yes, for the most part. It’s a girl.”

“What do you mean for the most part?” Scully asked. It’s a girl, it’s a girl, it’s a girl, she heard over and over in her head. She couldn’t help it: she thought of pink blankets and solemn blue eyes looking out of a round face. At eight months the baby would be crawling, smiling, almost pulling herself to stand. Then Scully imagined cold surgical gloves reaching down to pick up the child and hold her with curiosity and detachment instead of love, to poke her with needles and test her in a cold white place.

“The child has an induced condition that manifests as a form of anemia. She requires regular treatment from a specialist.” Diana’s voice was deadpan, but Mulder and Scully both caught what she was saying. A “specialist,” meaning a project doctor. They locked eyes in understanding.

Skinner, however, was confused. “Induced condition? What does that mean?”

Mulder turned to him, his voice low. “They made her sick on purpose,” he said. It wasn’t a question, and Diana said nothing to either confirm or deny.

“So they can keep her on a leash,” Scully added. “So they can keep anyone who tries to love her on a leash.” She looked across the table and met Diana’s eyes. The fury inside her was grounding her, keeping her still, like ice-water, but inside she was screaming. “Isn’t that right?”

Diana gave the barest of nods and looked down at her hands. Silence around the table grew heavy, broken only when their waitress came to refill their coffee cups. The woman must have sensed the awkwardness, because she left without a word.

“I want what they took from me,” Scully said after a long moment. “All of it. Every strand of my DNA, even the ones in your specimen.”

With that, she stood and walked out of the restaurant.

—

Outside, back to the setting sun over the San Juan mountains, Scully leaned against the hood of their rental car. She wanted a cigarette. Barring that, she wanted to smash something into pieces and scream into the wind. But when Mulder came up beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder, she just deflated. Her head drooped, and she stared at the dust and rock of the parking lot that flecked her leather boots.

“You okay?”

She shrugged one shoulder, not sure she could ever really be okay again. “What did Skinner say?”

Mulder had shoved his hands into his pockets, but he leaned his left side along the length of hers—a gesture of comfort that maintained the boundary between them. “He said they’re going to want a deal. Well,” he clarified, “Diana explained that our silence wouldn’t be enough, not if you really want… everything back.”

Scully reached up and touched the scar at the back of her neck. “They already have me on a leash too, don’t they? What else could they want?”

There was a long pause, and when Mulder didn’t answer, she looked up at him. He had a look of far-off anguish, of dread.

“Mulder.”

He chewed his lip for a moment, and then said, “My work.”

Oh. Scully swallowed hard. So the price for the truth was the power to do anything with it—the power to prosecute these men, to hold them accountable. “Your badge, too?”

He shook his head. “Just the files.”

Scully nodded. “They mean to drive us apart, then.”

She felt him turn to look at her in the dimming light. “What do you mean?”

The breeze coming from the mountain chilled her, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “They know I could never ask you to do that, Mulder. Or they should know it. If you give up your work, our work, you’ll come to resent me, if you don’t already.”

He tried to speak, but Scully cut him off.

“And if you let them keep my…” She couldn’t say future children, couldn’t say baby. “…ova,” she swallowed, “and everything they create from them in exchange for the X-Files…”

“How could you ever stay with me?”

She nodded again. “The thing is, I don’t even want children right now. That wasn’t on my radar, not for a while, anyway, because I have so much other work to do. I’m committed to our work too, Mulder, and I know it’s not compatible with a baby. I mean, maybe in a few years but…” She was rambling, but God, it was impossible, wasn’t it? Every choice seemed wrong, seemed designed to push them apart and alter their lives irrevocably. She chuffed out a humorless laugh. “I guess they’ve kind of won, haven’t they?” She couldn’t look at him, imagining the gears churning his thoughts into a steady resentment toward her.

He was shaking his head. He didn’t want it to be true any more than she did, but they were only two people standing against a tidal wave of power and corruption. “They can’t have won,” Mulder said, but his voice came out defeated.

She looked toward the restaurant, where she assumed Skinner and Diana were waiting for their reply, two sore thumbs in their east-coast suits drinking tepid coffee. “How long do we have to decide?”

“Diana said we should make a call tonight. They know where we are now. We need to play our hand while we can.”

Scully wanted to tell him that he should decide, that he should take this terrible decision away from her and leave her alone to lick her wounds. But of course that wouldn’t be fair to him. She watched his face, silhouetted by the setting sun, and ached for him, for things to have been different between them—no conspiracies or wives or impossible ethical dilemmas. When he looked at her, met her eyes, she thought she felt the same ache coming off him in waves.

“I love you,” he said without warning, and it made her heart skip and slam against her ribcage—warm and unexpected. “I could never resent you for wanting back what they stole from you. Never.”

Scully felt tears filling her eyes, and she bit the inside of her cheek to try to stop them from falling. “Okay,” she said, voice raspy.

“I love you,” he told her again. She was trying to believe him, beginning to, maybe. He reached out a hand to hold her cheek, and it almost undid her. She sucked in a quick breath, a half sob, and a tear escaped down her cheek. He wiped it with his thumb.

Her fingers found his against her cheek, and she turned her head just slightly to kiss his palm. Though he’d said it first, she was terrified to tell him how she felt. But now was the time for bravery, for playing their hands, wasn’t it? Scully closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensation of his skin on hers. “I love you,” she told him back.

He let out a breath into the cooling air that brushed her face. “Good,” he said. “That’s good.” He leaned his forehead down to touch hers. “They won’t force us apart, Scully. We’ll find another way.”

Despite all her rational objections and her skeptical nature, she believed him.

—

End Chapter 6

Go to Part 7

#a thing i wrote #all along like fire #xf fanfic #msr #au #part 6

[wordplayfics]

1D Wordplay Fic Challenge - 2023 Edition

About the 1D Wordplay Fic Challenge

The Wordplay Fic Challenge is a challenge that runs for five weeks. Every week there is a single randomly generated word that acts as the prompt for that week's fics. Those who would like to participate in the challenge are asked only to do their best to write a fic based on that word in a week's time before then getting the prompt for the following week.

This is meant to be a low-stakes and fun challenge to get your creative juices flowing and help get those words out quickly by allowing you to create five shorter works instead of one larger project (as is done in similar challenges such as NaNoWriMo). It is also a fun way to see how everyone interprets the prompts differently giving us a group of incredibly diverse fics all written for the same prompt.

Details

As stated above, the 1D Wordplay Fic Challenge lasts for five weeks. The words used as the prompts are assigned via a random word generator and posted to the @wordplayfics blog and Discord weekly. Everyone choosing to participate that week will have one week to write a fic inspired by that word. This year, the prompts will be given on Wednesday mornings (Eastern Time) with the fics for that prompt posting the following Wednesday. Each Wednesday morning (August 23, August 30, September 6, September 13, and September 20), the new prompt will be assigned and that week’s fics will post a few of hours later. Authors can begin their work on the next week's fics as soon as the prompt is posted and they are ready to do so.

Those interested in participating are not required to take part in all five weeks. It is preferred that all who sign-up have the intent of participating in at least three weeks, but all five would be wonderful. Life happens and creativity doesn't always come about when you would like it to, which is fine. Just to say it once more, this challenge is meant to be fun and as relaxed as a challenge involving this kind of fast turn around can be.

Rules

All participants must be 18 or older. Please respect this rule.

There are no word count limits or other rules regarding content, though as this fest is a One Direction fandom fest, all fics must include a member of One Direction as a main character. 

The only requirements for the fics themselves are:

They are written within a week’s time and posted to the appropriate collection before that week's fics are revealed

The assigned word prompt is clearly used as inspiration for the fic  

Tentative Schedule (Dates are subject to change):

Sign-ups Open: July 26, 2023 Sign-ups Close: August 22, 2023 First Prompt Posted: August 23, 2023 First Round’s Fics Posted: August 30, 2023

Posting Details

Below is all of the information regarding the details for posting your fics to the collection(s) and what information I am asking you include in AO3 when you post. I will update this post every week as I get the new collection set up for each prompt, but there will also be a link to the collection in the bio of the blog where the prompts are listed for each week, so that will likely be the easiest way to find it. 

The Basics:

Add your fic to the appropriate collection (details below) by 2 pm EDT on the respective Wednesday

Please make a fic post for your fics and tag @wordplayfics  

There will be a masterpost updated weekly with links to the newly published collection

Each week's collections will be able to be found here: Week 1: Poem Week 2: Run Week 3: Stable - Fics post 13 September Week 4: TBA Week 5: TBA

Please be sure your fic is in the collection before 2pm EDT each Wednesday. 

There will be a countdown linked in each post with that week’s prompt because timezones can be hard. If your fic is not already in the collection when I go to publish the fics, then they won’t be approved to be in the collection. You may still post your fic and link it to the challenge–I will even reblog your fic post to the challenge page–but the point of this challenge is to write a fic in a week’s time. I don’t want to give any one person more or less time than anyone else, thus the deadline of 2 pm and not allowing late fics into the collection. If you have any questions or concerns, please let me know!

Also remember: you aren’t required to participate every week, but please do your best to participate in at least three of the five weeks this challenge is active.

Once fics are posted, it is recommended you make a fic post. Be sure to tag @wordplayfics in the fic post so it can be reblogged here. (I also recommend you link to your fic post at the end of your fic in AO3. If you don’t know how to do this, please reach out and I will be happy to help you.)

It would be preferred if the fic posts are scheduled to post within an hour of the fics going live so they don't have to be searched for every week and it also helps lower the possibility of fic posts falling between the cracks and getting missed. Tumblr does not always notify me when the blog has been tagged, though, so if your fic post has not been interacted with by this blog or my main @lululawrence by Wednesday evening, please send the post to me!

Questions? Concerns? Please let me know and I’ll get back with you as soon as I can.

If you’d like to see what resulted from the Wordplay Fic Challenge in previous years, you can find all the fics in the Wordplay collection on AO3 as well as a breakdown of the weekly prompts and the resulting fics in the Wordplay Masterpost.

#wordplay 7.0 #2023 information #long post #aaaaand we are BACK BABY

[giurochedadomani]

Your AU Zoro angst has me in a goddamn chokehold because, like, what’s he supposed to do, tell Luffy not to make other friends, especially when he looked so happy that Sanji finally started to warm up to him, and only a miserable person would try to take that away from him, and then there’s Kuina, and her dad always warned her about multitasking while she was walking and maybe if she’d just listened more he wouldn’t be missing her like this, and what kind of horrible person gets mad at their friend for dying? - and he’s sitting there with all these really big feelings at like 3am just trying to hold it together when his dad’s “friend” waltzes in half naked asking if he’s okay (but there’s no way he actually cares because he’s been so careful and no one else has noticed and just akjhdddghvhhhg)

Just Zoro having so much anger and guilt and being young enough that he hasn’t learned it doesn’t make him a bad person yet because that’s a special kind of hell I don’t miss.

Zoro who just found the (1) person he can let himself be happy and silly with, someone who makes him want to strive to be better! Like it used to be with Kuina. Damn, now he's thinking about her, which he carefully has avoided doing these past few months, because what the hell is he supposed to do if there's no one to blame but Kuina herself? And it's so nasty, right? Her death was an accident. He's such a bad friend for thinking this.

Vs.

Sanji, who has found this one weirdo of a guy who seems to appreciate him precisely for every single thing his family has despised him for and who may be subconsciously projecting a bit of his issues on this. He just wants a brother who loves him and whom he loves, okay.

[The tension will be slowly disintegrated into their usual low stakes rivalry once I figure out what to do with Arlong, because I already have an asshole big brother to fight in Kuro, but I fear that keeping Arlong as an asshole adult would make the story way too creppy for a romantic comedy between single dads]

Nonetheless that's not here nor now. While Luffy is with Sanji and reading between the lines the kind of massive emotional tension he's gotten in the middle of, Mihawk is going to find Shanks navigating Zoro's breakdown like a pro-- which will quick start his own bad line of thought cause how he did not see this coming. Which signs did he miss in the past few months. He shouldn't have been so uh. Distracted. How does Shanks make it look so easy. He'd be so utterly crushed if Zoro thought that Mihawk didn't love him. Seriously, this is the first time he sees Shanks and Zoro exchanging more than two words. He sucks as a dad.

And just having a very strong kind of longing, but he's not sure if it's because of Zoro or because of Shanks (and the very guilty thought that he wouldn't mind having Shanks around and play the happy family with him and their kids-- which is a thought that comes way too fucking soon and definitely NOT in the right moment).

#Mishanks #akagami no shanks #dracule mihawk #One piece #One piece live action #Opla #I'm working on it! I'm just. Very slow 😅 #Thanks a whole lot for the question it made my night!! #Family au #Zolu #roronoa zoro #monkey d. luffy

[callsignthirsty]

Really wanting an iceman x reader where the reader was in his topgun class but she and others are on a dangerous mission (sometime after graduation) and ice is in the control room where he can hear the radio!! maybe she saves someone from being shot down while putting herself in danger or turns back to save someone, set kinda around the original movie?

Hey Nonnie! Thanks for the request. I wasn’t able to think up anything particularly high stakes, but I hope that you like what I cooked up for ya.

Pairing: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x F!Reader (Your call sign is Lady Luck) Word Count: 2200 Warnings: N/A

No Promises

It was dark when you arrived in the briefing room, and it would still be dark in 30 minutes when you were shot off the deck to begin your mission.

You'd been stationed at sea for weeks, hoping that tensions never escalated beyond posturing, but the enemy attack on and sinking of a US frigate meant that you were being sent in.

"This–," your Captain approached the screen and circled an area, the projection distorting around his hand, "–is your target." Next slide. "It's the only enemy airfield within striking distance." Take out air cover, and their only option would be to send out the destroyers, but the enemy had to know that their navy was far outmatched. "Archer 1's missiles have been replaced with Mk 82s." Next slide. "Satellite imaging estimates roughly 30 jets within the target's hangar. Your mission, first and foremost, is to take out the runway before they can take off to retaliate."

The simplicity of the plan didn't make it any less dangerous. Three pilots to protect one equipped with enough gun powder to take out an entire hangar but barely enough to defend themself in a fight. Take out the airfield. Beat the enemy back into line. But after the previous day's attack, the enemy knew you'd be coming. They just didn't know when.

"Have I missed anything, Lieutenant Kazansky?"

Ice stood shrouded in shadow toward the front of the room, right arm in a plaster cast, Slider by his side. But not even a broken bone could stop Ice from participating. He'd worked his way into every possible strategy meeting. His fingerprints were all over the plan you'd just been walked through, and you were sure it killed him to see you — the only Top Gun pilot on board who was cleared to fly — get to lead it.

"Fly low. Fly fast." His eyes swept the room, alert even in the early morning hour as he singled you out from the group. You knew what was coming next: "And keep your comms on."

"Dismissed."

You climbed aboard your jet, Casper on your heels. Ticked all the boxes in your preflight check while the rest of your squad ran through theirs. Then, you were taxied to the canon, and before the sun had peaked over the horizon, you were shooting off the deck.

The comms crackled on as all four jets fell into formation, the glow of the runway lights disappearing amongst still-black waves: "Good morning, aviators." Ice. "20 minutes to target, do North Northwest. Fly low."

"Copy, Control," you answered, and you know it has to be killing him to sit this one out, but no one can fly with a broken wrist. Not even the Iceman. "This is Archer 1, headed North Northwest at 900 feet. Expected arrival just after 0500 hours." Right after sunrise.

Ice straightened from his position over the shoulder of the communications operator, his finger releasing the green push-to-talk button. Slider stood to his left to avoid bumping into Ice's casted arm. He'd told his RIO that he didn't need to come with, but Slider was nothing if not loyal, so he'd grumbled to the coffee maker and come along anyway. "Here we go," Slider said quiet enough that Ice was confident he was the only one to catch it. He nodded imperceptibly as the radio crackled, and you ran through a check with Archers 2, 3, and 4: Checkmate and Breaker, Burbank and Yellow, AOK and Plan B.

You'd been flying straight at the target for 11 minutes when two blips appeared on the radar.

"Archers, there are 2 bogeys at 2 o'clock," said the comms operator. "Headed past you at a healthy distance."

"Copy, Control."

Another 3 minutes, then the bogeys began a lazy circle back toward their base. Still, they couldn't have seen you: in addition to the low light and your flying below radar detection, they were too far away to see you with the naked eye.

"Archers, those bogeys are circling around. Looks like they're returning to base."

"They onto us?" That was Yellow.

"Negative, Archer 3, but their path intersects yours. Proceed as planned."

"Control, this is Archer 2 requesting permission to engage." Checkmate. The comms operator looked to the Captain, and it bothered Ice that they hadn't looked to him. It was his plan, after all.

The Captain nodded. "Archer 2, permission granted. Intercept the bogeys and fire at will."

"Copy, Control."

"Right behind you, Checkmate," AOK called out to his lead. Comms operators got to work flipping breakers to keep Checkmate and AOK's radio separate from yours and Burbank's.

"Archers 1 and 3, Archers 2 and 4 have split. Continue to target. Estimated arrival: 5 minutes."

The Control room broke into chaos as soon as Checkmate and AOK engaged the enemy planes.

"Oh shit, there's four of them."

"Break left!"

"4 minutes to target."

"AO, he's on my tail!"

"Bring'm 'round."

"Casper, prepare package for delivery."

"Check, I'm switching to guns."

"Oh shit, Burb, Luck, there's two bogeys headed past us high at 9 o'clock."

"That sonuvabitch hit me!"

"Did they see us?"

"Stay with me, AO."

"I don't think so."

"Check, get this asshole off of me!"

"3 minutes to target."

"I've got missile lock."

"Bank right!"

"Shit, that was close."

"How we doing, Cas?"

"Take the shot!"

"2 minutes to target."

"Ready for delivery, Luck."

"Bring 'em around, AO."

"Yellow, do you see anything?"

"Negative, Burb–"

"Checkmate, I'm out of missiles."

"–I don't think they saw us."

"1 minute to target."

"I can see it."

"Two down, two to go. Switching to guns."

"Checkmate, there's a hostile on our six."

"You ready for this Burbank?"

"Get 'em offa me, AO!"

"Born ready, Luck."

"Control, we are dropping the package in 3…"

"Left engine's out."

"Shutting it down."

"2…"

"Got 'em!"

"Yeehaw!"

"1."

"Control, this is Archers 2 and 4; hostiles have been dispatched–"

"Bombs away, boys."

"–but we're out of ammo. Returning to Flight Deck."

"Deploy Archer Spare." The command was out of Ice's lips, and he pointedly stared straight ahead, ignoring the Captain's glare. The Captain waved it off, not moving to approve takeoff.

"Oh, Lady Luck, they didn't like that one bit."

"What're they going to do about it, Burbank?" You and Burbank continued to circle the airstrip, dropping all six of your bombs, but not fast enough to prevent two planes from taking off. Plus, the two bogeys that had flown past you earlier had circled around after the first explosion.

"Archers 1 and 3: Four hostiles inbound from the runway and on your 6."

Finally, the Captain gave the go-ahead for Comms to clear Archer Spare for takeoff.

"Comms to Flight Deck: deploy Archer Spare."

"I see 'em."

"Begin return to Flight Deck. Archer Spare is on their way."

"Burb, Yellow: arm missiles. Cas, I'm switching to guns."

"Copy that. Arming missiles."

"How long until Archer Spare engages?" Ice asked, and it's only through years of honing his signature icy demeanor that he managed to keep the concern from his face, but his palm is sweaty beneath the plaster of his cast.

"12 minutes."

"This will be over in 5."

"Lieutenant Kazansky." Ice clenched his jaw shut as the Captain called him to heel.

"Now would be a great time to take the shot, Burb."

"What do you think I'm trying to do?!"

"Luck, we're taking a hostile down the left."

"Jesus Christ, that was close."

"Firing!"

"Where are they, Yellow?"

"Two coming around on our six."

"Split 'em!"

The chatter continued until you and Burbank had managed to take out all but one hostile out for the flight of his life. But it was two against one, and Ice liked those odds.

"Shit, Luck. We're out."

Unless, of course–

"Of what?"

"Everything."

Fuck.

"Bring 'em around nice and easy, Burbank."

"Fuck that–" a freaked-out Yellow "–Fly dammit! They're gonna get missile lock on us!"

"Keep mellow, Yellow."

"Fuck you, Casper."

"You gotta help me out here, Burbank. I can't get a shot!"

"9 minutes."

"Shit. We're out, too."

"What?!"

"You gotta shake him, Burb."

"I can't!"

"Luck, do something!"

Archers 1 and 3 were silent for a couple seconds before your voice filtered back over the radio. "Control, it loo- -’re h-ving prob-" Ice lunged forward and smashed his good hand down on the green button.

"Kazansky!"

"Luck, don't you dare–" but it was too late; you'd already switched off your comms. "Dammit!" Slider chuckled over his shoulder at the slip in his controlled façade. Ice didn't pay his RIO or the Captain any mind. In the minute that your comms were cut off, his head flooded with nightmare scenarios. You had been known to shut off your comms right before dragging Casper into something stupid.

Your comms switched back on. "Control, this is Archer 1 requesting deployment of a rescue helicopter." The blip of your jet banked wide right before reorienting itself with the path of the hostile on Burbank's tail. Ice's eyes went wide.

"Archer 1," the Comms operator sputtered, "Archer Spare will be at your location in 6 minutes."

Ice knew that neither you nor Burbank had six minutes. Still, he leaned over the console, ready to knock you off whatever Maverick bullshit you had planned, but he was too late.

"Mayday. Mayday. Archer 1 is going down," Casper's voice came out strong over the radio, nothing was wrong with your plane except for its collision course with the hostile. Your dot almost on top of them.

"Burb, roll right!"

"Eject! Eject!"

Static fuzz.

"Control, this is Archer 3 returning to Flight Deck." Ice continued to hold his breath, Slider's hand on his shoulder. "Archer 1 has deployed parachutes."

— —

When Ice appeared at your door, you were getting ready to leave the med bay in pursuit of dry clothes. "Here to congratulate me on a successful mission?"

"What the hell was that?" he bit, and you rolled your eyes as your expression soured.

"If you're just here to yell at me," you said, trailing off as you tried to push past him and into the hallway, but he blocked your escape.

"No. You don't get to pull a stunt like that and just walk away, Luck."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Was that not a part of your plan?" Ice remained silent as he took a deep breath, the muscle in his jaw twitching. It hadn't. He'd tried to deploy Archer Spare on time to get to you, but he'd been outranked. "Spare was too far out, and Burbank and I were out of ammo. What did you expect me to do? Leave him to die?"

"Burbank is a capable pilot–"

"He's a kid!" A cocky one, but what pilot wasn't? He'd come to you all fresh from flight school, 20 years old, and insisting that he was Hollywood. Slider had laughed in his face and told him that you already knew a Hollywood. When you'd all found out a couple days later that he was actually from Burbank, the name — much to his chagrin — stuck.

"–and what you did put not only your life, but Casper's, Yellow's, and Burbank's in danger."

"Is that it? Was I being too dangerous?" Where had you heard that one before?

"Luck."

"Why can't you just admit that you're jealous?" You crossed your arms over your chest and genuinely thought you had him, especially when he spat out a 'what?'. "The Navy's poster child sidelined, and Lady Luck takes his role leading a successful mission for the US of A."

Ice actually laughed as if you'd said the funniest damn thing he'd ever heard, and your arms crossed tighter over your chest for an entirely different reason. Had you really pinned him that wrong?

"That's what you think this is about?"

"Whatever, Kazansky." You tried to push past him to get out of your wet clothes. You were starting to get cold.

Ice caught you with his good hand and dragged you forward until you were pressed against his chest. You had to crane your head to meet his eyes, but there was something different in them. Not anger. Not frustration. Heat.

The warning registered too late, and suddenly his lips were on yours, the force of them bruising. His hand anchored on the side of your jaw, possessive as he tilted you into a better angle and licked at the seam of your lips. You groaned, eyes slipping closed as the plaster of his cast pressed into your lower back until you were arching into him.

Your hands rose to grip the lapels of his service khakis and drag him closer until his teeth caught on your lower lip and sucked it into his hot mouth.

You broke apart when your head spun from lack of oxygen, lids heavy as you stared up at him. "Oh."

"Don't you ever do that to me again," he commanded, his cheeks the same breathless pink as yours. 

"If this is the way you greet me once I'm back on the ground?" you asked, a cruel smile blossoming as your eyes flicked from his lips to his eyes. "No promises."

#thirsty answers #top gun (1986) #top gun requests #tom iceman kazansky x reader #tom kazansky x reader #iceman x reader #afab!reader #be the iceman x reader content you want to see on this hellsite

[dropthedemiurge]

My first impression for GMMTV 2024 projects:

Ossan's Love Thailand: Let's just say, first one is instant skip for me, though I am still excited to watch Earth and Mix in something I'll enjoy. I probably should go and watch Cupid's Last Wish instead xD Japanese comedy that is transferred in a Thailand comedy make me fear for my life, to be honest (my tolerance for physical comedy is unfortunately very low). But good luck to EarthMix though, they'll get to play some funky roles, hope they'll have fun!

Leap Day: Woah! It looks very intense and very interesting already. Pond and Dew (who I dearly love since High School series) in a very dark and mystical thriller(?). It's not BL but I love unique plots with darker vibes. Also Gun playing autistic guy (who also gives off creepy vibes because the entire trailer is creepy)? Sign me up twice! I'm going to be checking it out for sure.

The Heart Killers: First and Khaotung wanted to play a cute sweet romcom after all the depressing and dark and difficult characters and tears, right? Well, they also wanted to play mafia or gang roles so I guess that gave Jojo the right to make a ASSASSINS ROM-COM, why not!xD This man is the only one I go for when I want something very refreshing, unusual, gritty, that has flawed and underground characters, weapons and high stakes. It'll probably fumble the ending but I'm definitely going to be here for my Assassin x Tattoo Artist Firstkhao. Also it'll be my introduction to JoongDunk. Second to the top of series I'm excited about!

Friendshit Forever: I actually had to double take because GMM surely loves puns in their titles, right? xD I thought this would be GL but it seems like a very intense friendship-betrayal story, seems like girl actors are able to pull it off and New is going to get caught up between them, sounds interesting but again, not my type of story. Still, points for the shit in the title lol

Perfect10Liners: I literally have 3 couples that I am familiar with because I saw them in other shows, and they all play Thai engineers, and I still have no desire to watch this show? Somehow?! I don't know why but I feel like the writing is not solid at all. Or the premise. I'm not sure what's this show is even about, beside a silly university romcom. I am already craving something more interesting, I'm sorry guys.

Us: I ONLY HAD EMI AND BONNIE FOR ONE MINUTE AND I DON'T WANT TO LET THEM GO! I mean, new discoveries?! This trailer is filmed beautifully, first of all. The acting is already great (also hello, Sing, my beloved!) and the girls have chemistry (I might have a little crush on Emi already). Anyway. I am still waiting for GL that'll be my cup of tea, I hope this will be one.

Hide & Sis: I really enjoy the vibes, the three sisters look badass (and I adore Piploy and Lookjun and Jan), it's very unusual to see Chimon in this role, Gawin continues his police officer streak, but THAT NAME! Who decided on a name for this series and why?xD Probably not going to watch but I give it a stamp of approval.

ThamePo (Heart that skips a beat): Oh! I enjoy idol stories, though I haven't seen many, but I'm always intrigued how shows like this could display the backstage and the complications that come with different positions and spotlight. And thank god GMMTV used their actual boygroup to play idols! And didn't just try to teach actors to dance. I don't know main two actors but they seem to have good chemistry as well?! I'm intrigued.

Break Up Service: I'm all for Off in a very sketchy role (Midnight Motel type of sketchy, only with even higher stakes?xD) but the overall genre is probably not my thing.

Revamp The Undead: I'm sorry but all I know about BounPrem is that these are guys from another agency who desperately wanted to have vampire BL for years or something xD Glad to see the wish being fulfilled! I love how the teaser was filmed, and the plot has a big potential. Don't know the cast but might tune it to check out!

Sweet Tooth Good Dentist: Sorry but I'm going to be mourning Mark Pakin's talent being wasted on series like that x) I don't know the other guy Ohm, sorry, but such romantic comedy where Mark's character is a weirdo and simply falls in love with the client (how was he not fired on the spot) doesn't really intrigue me... But at least it's a step up from his (amazing) side roles.

The Dark Dice: Ooh! I love psychological thrillers and this honestly reminded me of Cube, I just didn't expect Gemini to be the main lead. As someone who watched Gifted, High School and similar shows, this is right up my alley. Very curious to check out and I hope they'll do something deep with it beside a simple mystery.

The Ex Morning: I might be biased but I just knew they would be the last one, what everyone's been waiting for. It's hilarious to think that the plot is based on Krist and Singto's actual lives but I trust P'Aof to write compelling characters and relationships. Also I probably will sigh with relief already because he's one of the very few writers that actually write a complete story with a nice and believable (and not hurried) ending. And I really want KS to come back with a bang, just like TayNew did with Cherry Magic. GMM going exes back to lovers will be very interesting to watch, and Krist Singto grew as actors so much. I'm very excited!

Overall, I'm happy to see GMMTV choosing to try a lot more mystical or dark stories than before, way less school students and also most of these BL stories are about adults! Woah! Finally! The audience is mostly grown up as well, thankfully they realized it. And their announced project about accepting stories and plot from the fans, as well as Interactive Game project by GMM, I wonder how that'll look like.

It's funny how last year I was thinking about making my webcomics and visual novel games with GMM actors and I didn't push through because I had health problems and not enough time, and it's like in 2024 GMM tells me THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT WE WANT. Maybe I should actually make some dating otome novel game or some interesting AU webcomic based on GMM BL pairings, and then show it to all fans and then GMM would notice it xD Who knows? Go kick me so I'd work on one of those projects in my mind.

Anyway, in Part 1 I barely liked any trailers or stories, and I like almost everything in Part 2. I am very very excited.

#gmmtv 2024 #gmmtv #gmmtv series #gmmtv actors #bl series #bl actors #thai bl #thai series #thai drama #gmmtv bl #review #gmmtv part 2

[theluckywizard]

WIP Whenever!

Thank you for the tag @greypetrel! Here's another bit of my matchmaking Satinalia distraction fic which I have now named (woo!) Kiss me Moonstruck. Rose Trevelyan has sneaked out of her guest quarters at the Hawke estate and is heading with Hawke to the Hanged Man in Lowtown and this relatively sheltered noblewoman is just 👀👀👀 over everything. ****

Rose isn’t exactly sure what she should have expected. A bid for freedom is about as far as she got with her calculus. It was senseless, she had to admit, having been admonished by Garrett Hawke’s pitying snicker when she announced she was going to wander around Kirkwall at night.

But following alongside him, she feels safe enough to gawk at everything with wild curiosity. Unlike the stillness of Hightown, Lowtown teems with activity after dark. She tries to tease the early Satinalia skullduggery from the usual bustle, but it’s impossible. Aromas of roasted nuts and sizzling sausages drift through the falling snow from purveyors jammed up along row homes carved from tuff.  Obvious prostitutes with theatrically painted faces have staked out spots along the small market square with closed up stalls, flaunting their wares with bumps of their hips and perfectly timed lifts of their skirts. They holler their come ons at Rose, offering to make her sing louder than Serah Hawke ever could. Their familiarity with him is both jarring and somehow completely unsurprising. Hawke waves their taunts off.

“My uncle’s house is just around the corner,” he notes. “I got to know my neighbors quite well.”

“There’s a joke there that I’ll keep to myself,” she says wryly. Garrett shakes his head with a smile.

“They don’t like me,” he explains. “I had a few dust ups with their keepers that made things more difficult for them. I was— trying to help— and somehow I made things worse.”

“Trying to be their white knight or something?”

“Or something.”

An urchin child runs parallel to them with an armful of laurel and elfroot crowns for Satinalia, soliciting their attention with compliments and colorful descriptions of whatever they have on offer. She has to admire her tenacity, her expression animated behind streaks of dirt. So much life hidden under raggy, threadbare layers that must barely keep her warm. Hawke leans low to whisper in Rose’s ear.

“Watch your back and watch your purse,” he says softly. She peers over her shoulder to see them being tailed by a few other pint sized denizens waiting for their moment. The would-be offenders try to look casual, but Rose winks at them to warn them off. 

“I’ll have one for me and one for the lady,” says Hawke, magnanimous in his address, holding up a shiny stack of coppers. “And if you tell your friends behind us to piss off, I’ll take the lot.”

The girl’s sudden excitement pops out in a little hop and she slips her armful of crowns onto Hawke’s arm before turning to the bunch tailing them and unleashing a torrent of curses, scrappy and colorful as a quilt.

“Isn’t that a bit much?” Rose asks, eyeing his evergreen adorned forearm.

“They can’t go home until they sell it all. Besides,” he says, tossing and catching a crown of greenery. “I can hand them out at the tavern.” He pops a crown onto her snowflake dusted hair, so fully accepting of her transformation and presence on this illicit mission to make merry, to thumb her nose at her mother’s expectations and edicts that her answering look is rather slushy with appreciation. She smiles up at him, warmed by the compassion tucked inside his savvy though he turns sharply to shoo away the pickpockets that hover a little too closely with a pretend kick.

Tagging @crackinglamb, @delicatefade, @zenstrike, @rowanisawriter, @bluewren and ANYONE ELSE. I want to see your projects (DA or no!) 🥰

#hawke x trevelyan #rose trevelyan #garrett hawke #Kiss me Moonstruck #Dragon Age 2 #DA2: Act 2 #MatchmakingMoms!AU #WIP Whenever #WIP Wednesday #Dragon Age Fan Fiction #Dragon Age #Satinalia #Romantic Comedy Romp

[theresattrpgforthat]

THEME: Witches

This week's games are for everyone who has ever wanted to cast spells, brew tea, and participate in a Coven. Here are some Witch games!

This Night on the Rooftops, by anxiousmimicrpgs

This is a game about gazing out over the smokestacks after dark, with the wind in your hair and a friend at your side and a thousand lights of progress on the streets below. 

This Night on the Rooftops is a collaborative storytelling game for 2-5 players about friendship, growing up, and revolution. You will play members of a gang of children in The City, a fantastic world of industry and dying magic, where witches labour alongside factory-workers to make ends meet. 

If you are somewhat familiar with Belonging Outside Belonging games (also known as No Dice, No Masters), picking up this game should be pretty simple. It doesn’t use dice, and it doesn’t use a GM, so there’s less pressure on any one player, and you don’t have to scramble for play materials. Each player will get a playbook that reflects your character’s personal situation and struggle in a world that is tough and tiring. If you like the idea of witches making ends meet in an industrial city, this is worth checking out.

You can also check out their game Haven, another Belonging Outside Belonging game about witches finding community together in a dark forest, away from the rest of the world.

Children of Midnight: Coven, by Balsamic Moon Games Collective

It's the not-too-distant future and you live on the cusp of the old world and the new world. Your magical powers are wyld and unregistered. You can't rely on the electronic infrastructure of the world economy or interact with bots on the street because of the dangerous reactions electronics have to your unbound abilities. Your family may have even cut ties with you to prevent retribution from The Order or its private witch-hunting army, The Redwatch.

Despite the challenges, you have a familiar who is always looking out for you and a coven of other wyld witches you can always turn to. With your coven's abilities and a powerful patron spirit you fight to take back power from the elites; make the world better for yourself and your coven-mates, and for the next generation of witches.

Children of Midnight, is a Forged in the Dark game about witchcraft, urban horror, and near-futuristic technology. It’s currently in production, with a Quickstart option if you want to try it out before putting your money down for the full thing. The Forged in the Dark system is great for playing a big Faction game, where every action from your coven will make waves in the larger political landscape of New York. 

The Coven at the End of the Lane, by angrynerdgirl

You've always wondered what was just beyond the doors of the spooky house at the end of the block. Now, make it your very own.

Choose your witch archetype. Choose a familiar. Create your home.

The Coven at the End of the Lane is a gm-less game that uses a tarot deck and a number of 6-sided dice. The players will each have personal goals and special abilities that they can use throughout play, as well as unique magic and a signature spell. If you would like to have a familiar, there are rules for using them as well! This game is also a cozy game, with generally low stakes and a House that you can always return to for safety. If you like the magic and mystery of witches, and want to evoke that same feeling at the table, this might be a neat little game for you.

Witch’s Brew, by C.R. Legge

You are a coven of witches, meeting from across the region to discuss their plans for the next few months. You want to make sure things are working towards your goals as much as possible. This happens in an almost secret fashion under the guise of conversation over tea. Each witch will attempt to guide the selection of the other’s upcoming projects to further their own goals and gain the most influence in the coming months.

The selection process is done over a simple cup of tea that, to others, would look like a quiet conversation. Each Witch votes by how many sips they take. The players each have a secret goal that these projects might help along. Make sure you vote for the projects that you think will help your goals. There are multiple types of witches the players can be, ranging from a village witch to a mystic advisor or a practiced healer.

The setting is something that must be decided by the group prior to play. Is this a fantastical realm? A modern town? Or a futuristic city of some sort? This is also a social deduction game: your players will be working out how to complete their goals and avoid suspicion. This is a great game for folks who enjoy social roleplaying, tea, and diving into a role.

see the forest for the trees, by apri (smarticot)

see the forest for the trees (idiom); to discern an overall pattern from a mass of detail; to see the big picture, or the broader, more general situation.

❝see the forest for the trees❞ is a GM-less RPG (rule set) for 1+ witch(es), working to combat problems with magic. the players are a coven of witches, or the player is different aspects of an all powerful witch. you will be using your innate magic and the tools at your disposal, to rid the land and the common folk of their issues. To play, you will need some dice (d20, d10, d4), something to record your tally marks, and a candle for each witch.

The design for this game is simple and unassuming, with a simple layout that makes it easy to follow (and understand) the rules. See the forest for the trees is designed for group or solo play, and outlines a different setup for each kind of play. Your characters will gather materials, diagnose problems, cast spells, and help each-other come up with solutions for problems that will plague the town that you call home. If you want a beautiful, easy-to-read game with a cozy feel, this is the game for you.

Swamp Troll Witches, by Cats Have No Lord

Be a troll witch! Live in a swamp! Solve problems! Brew potions! Relax with a hot bath! Live your best troll witch life!

Swamp Troll Witch(es) is a GM-less tabletop roleplaying game for solo journaling, epistolary play, or small group play based on the Motif framework. 

The game focuses on the daily lives of the troll witches, searching the swamp for potion ingredients, solving problems to collect those ingredients, brewing potions, and relaxing at the end of the day to recover from the work. At the end of the week, visit the strange night market to sell all of the potions from the week. The game features simple, flexible, narrative-driven mechanics with non-binary success and a simple oracle for answering questions.

There are five stages to the game, with different rules depending on each stage. The mechanics work off of 3d6s, with each dice answering each part of a question you ask before you roll.  The theme is based off of the trolls of Nordic mythology. It focuses on the small parts of a witch’s daily life, and provided prompt tables to help you when you’re not sure what the next part of the story will be. If you like a game that feels cozy, and you can play either solo or with a group - even if the group is separated by distance and time zones - then you should check this one out. 

Wise Women, by Alessandra Brokman.

Wise Women is tabletop roleplaying game in which the players take on the roles of witches living in a remote village, where life is difficult and people often fall prey to supernatural creatures. The witches have the ability to use magical properties of plants to protect their community and help it prosper, but their skills are viewed with suspicion and prejudice. After all, magic is another supernatural force and the same plants that can heal, can also be used to cause harm.

This game is rooted in Polish folklore, and so the plants and creatures found in the book are all of Slavic origin. This game takes place in pre-industrial Europe: no cellphones or electric tea kettles to be found here. Your witches are likely to face groups and powers that fear and suspect them of dangerous things while they attempt to protect (and help) their neighbours.

Wise Women is Powered by the Apocalypse, which means that it prioritizes story and relies on the tried-and-true 2d6 mechanic. Your story will evolve naturally, as your characters develop ties with each-other and interact with the backstories you fill out together. If you enjoy mechanics that push the narrative forward, and conversations about what it means to be a woman with the power to help her community, I recommend that you check this game out.

#dnd #tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #witches #game recommendations

[centuryberry]

@peachshadows / @terrible-leviathan Pigsy’s Noodles prepares to serve the Royal Family. It’s a big deal since it would be the first time the Royal cubs comes along.

Inspired by this ask made by @chaozquartz

Getting a reservation at Pigsy’s Noodles usually took months, if not years, because of its high demand. While its delivery service made its delicious, hand-pulled noodles accessible to the populace, sitting in was a completely different experience. There were exceptions to this, of course. When high-ranking demons wanted a table, they tended to skip over the long line and get served first.

But when it came to the Royal Family? The entire restaurant would be cleared out for the whole day. No one wanted to upset the Emperor and Empress, after all. Pigsy was always honored and stressed whenever the Royal couple came to eat at his restaurant.

But this time, the stakes were higher. The Prince and Princess were coming to the restaurant for the first time after their existences were revealed to the world. They are both beloved by their parents, Pigsy knew, so that meant any offense, any mistake made today meant his head and the heads of his staff.

Including Tang.

While Pigsy tolerated his most troublesome waiter’s clumsiness and laziness on normal days, letting him off after some yelling and threats to fire him (he never does, he never would), he made sure to put Tang in the back to wash the dishes for today. He couldn’t take any risks.

Pigsy ran the rest of his entire staff ragged in preparation for the Royal Family’s visit. By the time they came, every inch of the restaurant was sparkling and all the dishes were ready to be served.

With sweat running down his brow, Pigsy greeted the Royal Family at the entrance. He might be a big demon, but his height was nothing in comparison to the power that the celestial rulers had. He gave them all a deep and reverent bow. He kept his gaze low and his voice pleasant as he led them to their seats. The entire staff knew the Emperor and Empress’ preferences by heart, already having their favorite teas and appetizers ready to bring out and serve.

The Prince and Princess seemed to be easy customers, much to Pigsy’s relief. Prince MK tried everything that was offered to him and thanked every server, scaring some since they weren’t used to being acknowledged by customers. He even spoke to Pigsy, complimenting his restaurant and the presentation of the appetizers.

“I can’t wait to try your noodles,” Prince MK said with an odd mix of poorly-hidden excitement and…something else. Something wistful and sad. “I heard they’re the best.”

The Princess, on the other hand, wouldn’t stop staring at Pigsy. She allowed the Emperor and Empress to fuss over her and spoon feed her tiny, bite-sized fruits and snacks, but her gaze didn’t waver from him. Her brow was scrunched up as if she was struggling to find an answer to a difficult puzzle.

The Empress noticed his daughter’s gaze and expression and sent a suspicious look at the chef’s way. The look spoke of very not-good things if Pigsy didn’t fix whatever the issue was. Empress Liu’er Mihou was known to punish many for less.

It left Pigsy frazzled and on edge. So much so that he quietly snapped at one of his waiters when they made a mistake.

At that, the Princess’ lotus ears flicked and her eyes widened in recognition and joy, unbeknownst to the stressed-out chef.

“Pigsy!”

Instinctively, Pigsy’s head whipped up at the sound of his name. Princess Xiaodan started to wiggle and reach for him - him!

“Pigsy! Pigsy!” Princess Xiaodan chirped sweetly with a giggle. “Nyoo-dal! Love!”

Pigsy was completely lost. He looked uncertainly at the Emperor and Empress, who seemed to share his surprise and confusion, before turning back to the baby monkey. “Princess…?”

Prince MK laughed nervously. “She’s a huge fan,” he explained. “And she’s super-excited for the noodles.”

Pigsy was….he was so moved! For the Princess to recognize him and his noodles at such a young age! In his heart, he swore to give her the best experience!

(As he thought this, his overworked staff shuddered and cried.)

The tension in the Empress’ expression cleared into something lighter (safer) as he began to smile and laugh along with his youngest. “I see. So that’s how it was. We must’ve taken you both here often in the future.”

Pigsy pretended not to hear the last part. It didn’t make sense and he didn’t want it to be explained to him. The less he knew about the Royal Family’s secrets, the safer he would be.

Even with the insurmountable pressure on his shoulders, Pigsy carried on and brought out his best noodles. To his pride, the Emperor, Empress, and the Prince were all satisfied and impressed with all he had to offer. Bowls were emptied and plates were wiped clean.

But Princess Xiaodan touched none of the food. Even when it was offered to her in bite-sized portions, she turned away from the chopsticks and spoons. Instead, she stared expectantly at Pigsy.

Thing was, Pigsy had no idea what she wanted from him.

The longer Princess Xiaodan looked at him, the more confused and sad she became.

“A-Dan Nyoo-dal, where?” The little monkey whimpered, looking absolutely heartbroken. “Pigsy no love?”

And this was where Pigsy would die. He was sure of it with how the Emperor and the Empress were both frying him alive with their eyes.

Prince MK choked on his noodles at his younger sister’s words. He set aside his bowl and chopsticks in alarm. “Oh no. Ooooooh no. A-Dan, please don’t cry. I know that you usually get your special A-Dan Noodles from Pigsy’s whenever you visit, but he can’t now because…” he struggled, trying to find an explanation before finding it. “Because he accidentally ate a ghost pepper and forgot how to make it!”

Princess Xiaodan’s teary eyes cleared in an instant. She looked at Pigsy with horror and sympathy at his fictitious memory loss by ghost pepper. “Oh no! Poor Pigsy!”

There was so much in that excuse that Pigsy didn’t have the time to unpack. Again, the business of royals wasn’t something he should put his snout into if he could help it.

“…So that’s why Gege is going to help him make A-Dan’s special noodles!” Prince MK finished with a too-wide smile.

What.

Before Pigsy knew it, he and Prince MK were in his kitchen. He did put up some resistance at first, the kitchen was his domain and the safe space for his staff after all. It was where Tang was. Good kid or no, Pigsy was a bit wary of sharing such a vulnerable and sacred part of his life to a stranger of a Prince…even if the kid kept looking at him as if he were someone he knew and missed. But one chilling look from Emperor Wukong forced his hand.

Prince MK, at least, was appropriately apologetic about the whole situation. “I’m sorry! I promise not to make a mess and follow your rules! I just don’t like seeing A-Dan sad and thinking you no longer love her…well, the “other” you. Making her special noodle dish isn’t too hard! It’ll be quick to make, I promise!”

Again, so much to unpack, but Pigsy didn’t have the time or patience to do that right now. He had a Prince to keep an eye on and a Princess to please.

Pigsy braced himself for the worst. He expected unwashed hands and burnt pots.

But that didn’t happen.

The Prince wasn’t a prodigy by any means, but he knew his way around the kitchen. He knew what ingredients to pick out and how to prepare them. He hand-pulled his noodles exactly how Pigsy would do it.

The Special A-Dan Noodles wasn’t an intricate masterpiece by any means, but it was obviously a dish made with love. And it was a dish Pigsy could see himself making.

No. Pigsy had seen many strange things in the world, but he couldn’t be considering that time travel is real. It wasn’t, right? Right?!

“Whew. All done. Thanks for letting me use your kitchen, Pigsy. Please take this to A-Dan. It’ll make her day…and make her feel a little less horrible about your, ah, memory loss.”

Pigsy accepted the steaming bowl of noodles, mind whirling. “Um. Sure thing, your highness.”

Prince MK made a face at the title. “Just call me MK, please.”

Before Pigsy could find a way to politely refuse, Tang wandered into the kitchen with a pile of dirty plates in his arms. The sight of him struck terror into Pigsy’s heart. Tang was supposed to be further back. Why was he here? And with plates? Whoever put Tang up to this, Pigsy was going to find them and wring their necks. It only took an uneven tile on the floor for Tang to trip and fall towards the Prince.

“Tang -!”

“Whoa there, you almost dropped those, Mr. Tang!” The Prince caught Tang with one hand and caught all of the plates with the other without breaking a sweat. As he helped Tang right himself, he offered the human a smile. “Pigsy would’ve yelled your ear off for that one.”

Poor Tang was a flustered mess. Despite the Prince’s gentleness and friendliness, he shied away from the demon. He was used to cruelties from their kind after all.

The Prince’s smile quickly shifted into horror and grief at the instinctive way Tang threw up his arms in defense.

“I-I-I’m so sorry! I-! Wait.” Tang blinked. “How did you know my name?”

“Oh. Um.” Prince MK hunched into himself, tail curling close to his legs. “It’s…complicated. I…I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry for scaring you. And bothering you. I’ll just…get back to the table.”

Prince MK fled, leaving Tang and Pigsy behind to blink after him. After a moment of silence, Pigsy’s human adjusted his glasses and turned to him with a familiar glint in his eyes that spoke of hours worth of conspiracy theories that he would have to listen to.

“Time travel?” Tang asked.

“Don’t say it out loud!” Pigsy hissed.

Tang closed his mouth but his eyes continued to glitter. It was a far cry from his terrified expression from before, so Pigsy allowed it. He took the bowl of noodles out and presented it to the Princess, who beamed and clapped with excitement. With the Empress’ help, she finished off her bowl of noodles with a satisfied chirp.

“Pigsy all better?” Princess Xiaodan inquired, still very worried about Pigsy’s health. It touched the demon’s soul.

“Yes, Princess. I’m all better. Thanks for worrying about this old pig.”

“Hooray! A-Dan and Gege come again!” She promised sweetly. “See Tang too!”

“Tang?” The Emperor wondered aloud, but was immediately distracted by Prince MK’s rambling before he could pursue the question even further. The Empress' ears flicked, but he didn’t acknowledge Princess Xiaodan’s mention of Tang, much to Pigsy’s relief. The entire family left the restaurant full, satisfied, and happy.

And, with that, Pigsy and his restaurant survived the dinner.

“…It’s time travel, isn’t it?” Was Tang’s smug greeting when Pigsy returned to the back of the kitchen.

Of all the - “Yes,” Pigsy finally relented, “happy? Now get back to work, Tang. The floor won’t clean itself.”

#lmk #the sundown era #little dawn au #shadowpeach #fic update #xiaodan #monkey MK #lmk freenoodles

[acearohippo]

Oh yeah, Tang Xuan absolutely called Li Ling after he sent this message

You can't tell me that Tang Xuan left the convo at that.

I held my shipping self back with my previous posts but no longer. Take this fic, I might post this on ao3 later this week because it's... actually pretty long.

AO3 Link:

Ship: Li Ling/Tang Xuan

Rating: T, for language

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: They're just chatting on the phone being cute and whatever.

[[I'm glad you're safe tho... you scared the hell outta me]]

Tang Xuan sighs, a bit dreamily. His boyfriend can be so cute, it’s unfair. He’s by himself, in one of the lounging rooms found in New Mylo Marshall’s station. It’s been repurposed as a temporary room for him to rest in, not that Tang Xuan has been able to use it as such. Giving himself only three days to resolve the truth behind the collapsing Miracle, Javid’s role in it, and the frequent Miramon waves plaguing New Mylo has left him no time to relax for more than a few minutes at a time.

He starts typing out a reply but pauses. He has nowhere to go for the half an hour and it has been a while since he got to hear his boyfriend’s voice. Not that Tang Xuan needs an excuse to call Li Ling, his thumb already hitting the “Call” button and happily getting cosy on the couch as he waits for his boyfriend to pick up. The call doesn’t even ring once before he hears the tell tale click of the person on the other side picking up the call. Tang Xuan’s heart swells and he can’t stop the grin forming on his face.

“Babydoll, you better be calling me to tell me exactly where you are so I can come get you.” Li Ling’s low monotone drawls out. Tang Xuan tenses up, recognising the signs of an emotional shutdown. His happy mood fades as he assesses the situation. The fact that Li Ling answered his call, means they still have time before any social withdrawals. He doesn’t sound any different from usual, only a bit more flat in his speech. Hearing his voice does reconceptualise his text. Tang Xuan takes a moment to calm his racing heart and thinks quickly.

First, he needs to make sure Li Ling doesn’t try to come get him. Because he will, he seriously will leave wherever he is, find him (somehow), and- if he can’t take Tang Xuan with him- he’ll latch himself to Tang Xuan and not leave. Tang Xuan loves working with his boyfriend, but this case requires a lot more finesse and critical thinking than Li Ling’s impatience is willing to handle. Not to mention the time limit and what’s at stake will annoy Li Ling and cause him to make rash decisions that may negatively impact everything. Li Ling jumps to conclusions too often, and while Tang Xuan will admit he does too, Li Ling doesn’t stop to question those conclusions, not unless someone directly challenges it and he’s given time to reflect on it. Three days is not enough time for Li Ling to process something of this magnitude, Tang Xuan is still trying to wrap his head around Javid's cruel decision and how it doesn't quite fit the man who protected him in the desert, even if he was a bit of a douche about it.

“They sent me to New Mylo.” Answer his questions honestly. When Li Ling gets like this, it’s better to answer succinctly. Tang Xuan is grateful they’re voice calling, as he can easily pitch his voice to sound calm and casual. He lets a bit of the past day’s frustration leak into his voice when he continues. “You would not believe the crap that’s happening here, babe.” Tang Xuan waits for Li Ling’s response. He isn’t trying to change the topic, that never works with Li Ling for long anyway, but he is trying to gauge how far along Li Ling’s fatigue is, to better help his boyfriend out.

“New Mylo? Isn’t that the place that’s about to get wiped out by the new miracle shit? The celestial anomaly thing the higher ups won’t shut up about?” Li Ling goes quiet for a bit, though he isn’t idle. Tang Xuan can hear him tapping away at his screen. “You’re like, a few hours away by plane… I could get to you in less than 5 minutes if I use my ring… Are these photos up to date?” Li Ling mutters to himself and Tang Xuan sighs. Looks like he’s still focused on getting to him. Tang Xuan wonders if Li Ling even realises he’s smack dab in the middle of the small town that’s in danger of being wiped out, thus being in danger himself. Not that Tang Xuan is nervous, but it’s good that Li Ling didn’t make that connection just now. The more he talks, the flatter his voice becomes and realising the danger Tang Xuan is in could be the last straw that sends him into a non-responsive, hyper-sensitive mess.

So, Tang Xuan goes for a different tactic, switching positions on the couch to get more comfortable. “I could send you pictures if you want.” He’s still going to try to keep Li Ling there, but sometimes agreeing with his spontaneous needs can help him calm down faster. “But, I don’t think Raven will be happy if you suddenly show up on my mission.”

Li Ling scoffs. “Like I give a crap what she’ll think. What was she thinking sending you on your own there?”

“I mean, I did resolve the Crow issue practically on my own.” Tang Xuan still thinks it was weird how Tevor leftmost of the sleuthing to him. He brought the cat man with him specifically so he could sniff out the crow leader, yet Tang Xuan ended up gathering most of the clues and coming to the final conclusion of both the present mystery and the past mystery that caused the cruise events to happen. Waste of a favour and money, that was. “It only took me a few days, too! I think Raven and the others starting to see my worth, putting me on all these high, erm, ranked missions.” Tang Xuan almost slipped up and said high stakes. He bites his lip to prevent himself from rambling on. Fortunately, Li Ling doesn’t notice his almost slip up, mumbling affirmative sounds to show that he’s only partially paying attention to Tang Xuan.

Tang Xuan pouts, tapping a finger against his cheek as he thinks of a way to break Li Ling’s concentration. “Oh! If you come here, we can do a road trip back to Gyrate.” Tang Xuan grins as the other line goes completely silent. He can practically hear Li Ling processing what he just said.

“What? No, absolute not! That’s our anniversary date plans, we aren’t moving those up.” Li Ling, finally, sounds a bit more lively. Tang Xuan digs in deeper.

“Weellll, if you come here, Raven’ll wonder why you’re here, and saying it’s because I’m here isn’t going to fly with her.”

“Screw her.” Li Ling sounds like a petulant child, grumbling under his breath.

”So we’re going to need to come up with a valid excuse. You got any besides an impromptu desert tour, babe?” The grumbling on the other end continues.

“But we are doing a road trip for our anniversary… what does New Mylo even have?” Tang Xuan wishes Li Ling was next to him, because he just knows he’s making that cute confused face, eyes rolling up and brows furrowing in thought.

“There’s lots of stuff we can do down here… maybe.” Tang Xuan sounds chipper, a genuine grin spreading across his face as he realises he’s got Li Ling. The man might hate rules, but he hates changing plans even more. “They have these sand glider vehicles I’m sure we can get a hold of.”

“And then we can, what, ride around the barren landscape?”

“Aaannnd, we can fight miramon.” Tang Xuan suggests, picking at his braid. He’s going to need a trim soon. “Hey it’s just a suggestion. You could also just wait a couple more weeks and then you’ll have me all to yourself.” Throwing his braid back over the backside of the couch, he rests his head on the cushion and prays that Li Ling will take the bait.

“Hn. You’re changing the subject. I want to see you now.” Oof, yes he is but he needs to convince Li Ling he isn’t.

“I really want to see you too.” Tang Xuan coughs, not expecting to say it so emotionally. But it’s true that he does. Him and Li Ling are almost never separate for more than a week at a time, and they especially don’t go hours between talking to each other. It’s something that leaves Tang Xuan feeling warm and soft inside, even after years of knowing Li Ling, and almost a year of dating him, how strongly they are still attracted to each other. It doesn’t feel overbearing, not like his childhood did- constantly being a unit with his younger brother. Everything they did was done together and any attempts at individualising himself never lasted long. Tang Yun could, and would, easily join whatever activity or hobby Tang Xuan would sign up for. It didn’t help that they were equally good at everything, despite having differing personalities.

Tang Xuan loves his brother, but he hated being overlooked for who he was. He never wanted to be a part of a pair again.

Until Li Ling came along and, gradually, all he wanted was to be matched with him. It felt different. They did many things together, but he was still Tang Xuan and Li Ling was still Li Ling. Sure, sometimes he was “Li Ling’s boyfriend” but Li Ling was also “Tang Xuan’s boyfriend” and it is exhilarating to him every time. Perhaps this is what those cheeky aunties meant when they would tell his younger self to “wait until he’s older” whenever he would declare he’d remain single his whole life. Being an item with Li Ling just carried differently than being “the Twins”. He is still himself even when he yearns to be plastered to Li Ling.

Damn, he loves this bastard.

“I want to see you so bad, Ling-Ling.” Tang Xuan continues, feeling a little embarrassed to hear it echo in the small room back to him. “And that’s what's getting me through this mission. We’re only a few weeks away from out 1st year anniversary, the places I want to go with you, the things I want to see with you, and do with you and do to you! I have been looking forward to it since you decided to stage a prison break for your former mentor.”

Li Ling has been quietly listening the whole time, and sighs softly between the break in Tang Xuan’s monologue. “Hou hou… You’re too damn cute.”

“Says the man who said he was worried about me after pretending he’s only been fighting miramon.” Tang Xuan teases.

“I was fighting miramon.” Li Ling says, and now he sounds like his usual self, even if his voice is still low.

“Why were you fighting miramon? You aren’t on miramon duty for the next month?” Raven might’ve been impressed by the corruption Li Ling and him revealed among the Tangton Correctional Centre, but they had to do press conferences and PR events for a week due to Li Ling’s outburst in front of the station going viral. Raven can be a petty boss.

“I’m still not on miramon duty.”

Tang Xuan waits for him to continue. Silence answers him instead and all Tang Xuan can do is sigh. “Please don’t get yourself in trouble before I get back. We’ve been planning this anniversary for months.”

“Don’t even, I should be saying that to you! You were supposed to be on vacation this whole month, what happened to that?” Li Ling spikes the accusation back.

“It’s not my fault! I swear I put in those vacation days, but when I checked I didn’t see them…” Tang Xuan still questions himself. He knows he pressed the submit button and he’s sure he received a message a day later that his time was approved, but when he pulled it up after splitting ways with Li Ling and Yun Chuan, he was shocked to see his schedule was filled again and none of the days he requested were blocked off. Even scarier, the message he received was gone. He had to go back and forth with HR for two days to clear up his schedule, again, and request the vacation but, by then, Raven had already tasked him with investigating the Crows on the cruise ship.

Tang Xuan hears tapping again. “Ling-Ling, what are you doing?”

“Making a note to talk to HR.”

“Why?”

“Because, when you come back, hou hou, I’m going to take you, fling you over my shoulder, and we’re just leaving. The note will be a warning not to interfere with us.”

“… Please don’t threaten anyone to give us a vacation.”

“I’m not. I’m promising them that they’ll regret screwing up your vacation with me.” He stops typing, sounding satisfied. Tang Xuan is now worried for a different reason, but a tapping on the door and Malik’s stern face peaking between the cracks, alerts him that he needs to return to the mission. Tang Xuan can only pray to the Sun that Li Ling will control himself and stay out of trouble.

“I have to go now, are we good?” Tang Xuan waves a hand at Malik to let him know he’s wrapping up his conversation. Malik nods in understanding and leaves him alone again.

“Yeah, we’re more than good, babydoll. Hmm, hey do me a favour before you go.” Li Ling sounds mischievous for some odd reason. Tang Xuan hums to show he’s listening. “Don’t tell anyone you have your phone back yet for the next two, three-ish, maybe six hours.”

“What? Six hours?? Why? If you were worried, the rest of our friends are so I don’t want to keep them in the dark.”

“Be-caauuusee,” Li Ling practically purrs, gleefully. “To make me feel better about you being MIA, Leora is taking me to a spice market nearby to try out Tangton candies,” Tang Xuan bites his lip to keep from gasping in pitied-shock. Tangton candies are lies in a wrapper. They aren’t sweet like candy, they’re just glazed balls of pure fire and agony. “And, after, Lewis is gonna treat me at my favourite grill joint.” Once again, Tang Xuan winces in sympathy. The food from that restaurant is delicious, but Li Ling always wants to sit right in front of hibachi grill and watch live as his favourite appetiser, skewered spiced-chili peppers, are grilled. Tang Xuan let him sit them there once and the smoke that came from those peppers hospitalised him as it clogged his nostrils and burned his eyes. As far as Tang Xuan knows, no one asides from him knows about the danger of letting Li Ling choose the seats. Tang Xuan sends a silent prayer out to Lewis, and hopes that his flaming hair will somehow render him immune to the effects of the spicey smoke. “And then after that, the boys and I are finally going to have an ultimate dodgeball competition!” Tang Xuan doesn’t even try to stop the grunt of disappointment from escaping, his hand audibly smacking against his forehead. Why do his friends become stupid the moment he leaves? They should know better not to encourage any sort of competitive sport with Li Ling, especially when there are balls concerned. Whatever damage they sustain, it’s on their heads.

Tang Xuan should warn his friends, but…

“It looks like I’m being sent out to look for more clues, so it might just be several hours before I post anything, anyway.” Tang Xuan has yet to see Leora lose her cool demeanour and it’s always fun to tease Lewis. “Send me pictures of Leora and Lewis enjoying the experience.”

“Deal, talk to you later, babydoll.” Tang Xuan returns his goodbye and ends the call. Refreshed, he gets off the couch and stretches. He has three days to wrap up this whole fiasco and he’s more motivated than ever to get it done.

#dislyte #tang xuan dislyte #li ling dislyte #lixuan #lotusmokey #monkeylotus #the hippo writes #well damn it's been a while since i've used that tag #i got over stimulated responding to those anonymous asks #so i wrote this to calm down #i apologise if the timeline is a bit off with the past few events #lord knows i remember nothing #and dislyte hasn't dropped the story event for playback for truth unveiled so I don't remember much of the details #if anyone corrects me i'll edit it for when it gets posted to ao3 #i will die on the hill that duplication is the cutest way to make nicknames #hence ling-ling and hou hou #hou being monkey in mandarin chinese #i like to think that when they're being soft and emotional with each other they'll use these cutesy petnames #but every other time they will call each other babe (tang xuan to li ling) and babydoll (li ling to tang xuan) #i will also die on the hill that li ling is autistic you cannot convince me otherwise #f in the chat for leora and lewis they will be missed