#just thinking about the conversation btw the guests

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Thank you so much @yandere-paramour for commissioning me.

Commission description: It's your first period living with Yves and you're kinda avoiding him in his own house because you're in pain and nauseous and you think he's gonna think you're gross because he's a boy. And it's a bad period, like you won't eat anything and there's a lot of blood and all you can do is lie in bed and be in pain. But eventually you allow Yves to give you a bath and take care of you.

Tw: afab anatomy, period,

(btw I did an ask about period and Yves before this)

(1308 words)

"Dear?"

Laying in a fetal position on your bed and buried under your sheets, you could barely hear Yves's muffled voice calling for you from outside your room. Although you've been dating Yves for a while now, even moving in with him earlier this month, you're uncomfortable with sharing a bedroom with him. So, he allows you to sleep in the guest room until you're ready to sleep in the same bed as your boyfriend.

You felt the world around you spin, spin, spin until you couldn't tell if your feet were facing the end of your bed or the headboard. Unlike your unfortunately soiled sheets and your pants, you were green in the face with nausea.

A couple of knocks reached your ears. "I'm coming in."

Well, that's fair. You have sent him away multiple times today, turned down every meal and refused to open your door in fear of him discovering such a shameful secret: you menstruate every month.

It wasn't a secret to him, though. Before even moving in, he had already told you where he kept his menstrual pads, making you ask him why he owns such things when he is biologically a male. Yves merely replied he had prepared them for you.

He doesn't hold tampons, as he actively discourages you from using them. Yves said it has a higher chance of you going into toxic shock. However, you shied away from the conversation before it could get too detailed, what does he know? He never had to deal with horrible mood swings, severe cramps or bleeding orifices ever in his life, or does he?

Either way, you think that it's embarrassing to be this vulnerable to him. But you're too weak and battered by your own body to keep him out. You just remembered that you had forgotten to lock the door too.

A tall shadow cast upon your cocooned self as Yves towered over you. He sat by the edge of your bed, elegantly crossing his slender legs as he brought a cool hand up to the side of your face. Yves caressed you, massaging your temple. He said nothing and neither did you.

He is sitting quite near to your bloodied stain, but Yves is yet to glance at it. This made your face heat up in humiliation. You squeezed your eyes shut and hid under your comforter again, wanting nothing but to disappear at the moment. You wanted the nausea to end, you wanted the headache to end, you wanted--

You opened your eyes when you suddenly felt the strong urge to vomit all over the floor dramatically lessened. Likewise, with your throbbing headache, there is still a dull pain, but it was such a tremendous improvement compared to a few minutes ago. What changed?

Since the pain has been lifted and you can think much clearly now, you realized Yves is applying a considerable amount of pressure against two specific spots using his thumbs; your right temple and your inner wrist.

You looked up at him and asked him what he did.

"These are acupuncture points to alleviate migraines and nausea." He replied, slowly removing his fingers away from you. They returned to his lap, where they're folded neatly, he's sporting a neutral look on his face. Perhaps you could detect a bit of disappointment and upset in those stunning emerald eyes.

You thanked him, but told him to please leave you alone. Fully expecting him to get up and leave, you flopped back down onto your bed.

However, your headache and sickness began to return. Thinking you could do the acupuncture massage yourself, you dug your finger nails into the areas where you thought he touched. It didn't work and it began flooding back to a maddening degree.

Groaning and whimpering, you desperately tried to make them stop but to no avail. Only when Yves had his hands on you again did it calm down.

He gave you a minute to recuperate before talking.

"You haven't eaten all day." He commented, releasing his hold on you. "You're avoiding me." Yves was aloof, although his last sentence was an observation, you had a strong suspicion that he's actually demanding to know why. He has yet to notice the massive, scarlet stain next to him. Maybe you should tell him, at least he wouldn't get himself dirty.

You meekly pointed out that your blood is seeping through the white sheets.

"Of course, it is. You haven't been to the bathroom for hours." His voice was quiet, but it took on a more scolding tone. Yves didn't care to spare a glance at the growing patch.

"You wouldn't let me take care of you." Yves continued, now sounding more sorrowful.

You became defensive, saying that Yves is going to find you gross. Going on an embarrassment-fueled tangent about how it's horrible to have to go through this every month and he probably wouldn't understand. Yves cut you off by firmly calling your name.

"You are describing a version of me that only exists in your mind." He stared straight into your soul unblinkingly.

You let his words sink in, realizing that you're projecting onto Yves and being an ass. You remembered that he was open to discussing how he could provide the best possible care for you when you're on your period, mentioning that he would gladly hand wash any delicate article of bloodied clothing if he has to. It was you who steered clear away from the topic because it was too awkward for you to bear. But it never was for Yves, it came so naturally to him.

He reminded you of your period cycle, he prepared the hot water bottle that's been sitting on your nightstand stand, he prepared a fresh change of underwear with the pad perfectly placed on it but you shooed him away before you could accept them.

Hell, he even offered to escort you to the bathroom and help you freshen yourself up as if you're paralyzed from the neck down. Obviously you declined and may have lashed out at him for that.

And so, you apologized. With tears in your eyes as your hormones run rampant. You said you're ashamed and unsure what to do.

Yves interrupted your pity fest with a tight hug that lasted for a good while, allowing you to wordlessly sob against his shoulder.

"You shouldn't be ashamed. It is a natural bodily process that billions have to go through on a regular basis." He whispered, stroking your hair as you continued letting your emotions out. "You shouldn't be ashamed to receive my help either. I enjoy taking care of the one I love, very much."

Yves gave you a kiss on the forehead. He wiped your tears away with his thumbs and watched you with softened eyes.

Through your hiccups, you told Yves that your blood is ruining his clothes. You wondered if this is an abnormal amount of viscera to be expelling.

"Then, shall I run the bath for you? It will help with your pain as well." He asked, you're amazed at how gentle he would always be with you.

You nodded, making him smile in satisfaction.

"Good. Stay here, you are not in a condition to move on your own."

You nodded once more, he kissed you on the cheek in gratitude before standing up. You felt guilt pang through your heart when you saw that his clothes are already egregiously stained with red from you.

It's such a shame that you're still too disoriented to realize that this is one of the rare times when he would wear white.

Only if you didn't cover the blanket over your head, you would have seen a glimpse of Yves toggling a remote controller. Switching off his specialized, hidden speakers.

Maybe that was why this was the most nauseating and painful cycle.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere male #oc yves #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #male yandere oc x reader #thank you so much for your commission

[missbluesunflowersstuff]

Damian's birthday party

I have this thought in my mind where Damian asks for a small birthday party, he informs Alfred about the guests and informed his siblings where and when the party will occur, "I don't want nothing too big, it's just a few people who will show up anyway"

His siblings feel a little bad for it because they think Damian doesn't have friends besides Jon (they're wrong), then they decide to invite other young heroes to the party by themselves

on the appointed day both young justice and the titans show up to celebrate the younger robin's birthday because "he is the Dick/Tim youngest brother, he doesn't know how to make friends"

only to discover a group of kids partying with Damian. They are: Colin Wilkes, Maps Mizoguchi, Maya Ducard (Nobody), Suren Darga, Nika (Flatline), Jon Kent, Mara Al Ghul (she is his cousin, he invited her because of it - they have a non-aggression agreement), Carrie Kelley and plus Connor Hawke, Roy Harper and Lian Harper

The most awkward moment possible because in Damian small party has now people literally raised by assassins, heroes and civilians and now more heroes show up

#dc comics #damian wayne #damian robin #batkids #batfamily headcanons #just thinking about the conversation btw the guests #'how do you meet Damian?' #maya 'he killed my father but we're fine now he is like my little brother' #suren and mara 'i wish i could kill him' #maps 'we goes to the same school' #carrie 'i give him acting lessons' #jon 'he basically kidnapped me' #colin 'well there was this guy who kidnapped children to for illegal matches...' #nika 'I stole his heart (literally)' #poor bruce after this party he will never complain about the friends of his other children anymore #and all other batkid are (a little) upset cuz they'll never bet damian wayne's guest list #jon kent #jonathan samuel kent #colin wilkes #maya ducard #suren darga #mara al ghul #maps mizoguchi #my writing dc comics

[yecju]

i have an idea that has been spinning in my head for a while!

Wriothesley x reader, wherein reader and wriothesley have tea together all the time, but reader doesnt actually like tea but just drinks it to humor my bbg wrio BUT THEN wriothesley finds out somehow, i wanna know what you think his reaction would be AAAA

Sorry for the text wall btw 😰

╰┈➤ wriothesley x m!reader — for a warden of a great prison, he sure makes a lot of assumptions. 彡 reader is an attorney and knows Neuvillette who introduces him to wrio :: not proofread because I'm behind on requests HAHHDJ

fem aligned dni.

Tea in His Grace, the Wardens office, on Wednesdays at exactly 2:30PM was custom. Wriothesley had met you through The Chief Justice a while back and he had taken great liking to you.

Every once in a while, you would visit to see Wriothesley to be nice, but after a few weeks it'd be on a daily basis. Sitting at the front of his desk in a guest chair as he sat in his, chatting away while drinking tea and eating small desserts you'd bring when coming to visit.

. . the only thing was, you didn't really like tea. then why did you drink it? well, Wriothesley really liked it. His large collection of different types . . it would've been rude to refuse. Sure, it was meaner to not tell him, but it'd be fine. . right?

When Clorinde came to help Wriothesley, they chatted a while after the events of the Primordial Water break-through. For such a cold looking people, they seemed to get along quite well.

" I've heard about the attorney visiting recently. " Clorinde suddenly stated, her arms crossed with an eyebrow risen, staring expectantly at the Warden.

Wriothesley seemed a little surprised at first but then smiled, seeming happy about your visits being brought up. " Him? Yeah, he's been coming around the prison a lot. He always brings desserts and shares some conversations. He even likes the tea I make . . unlike a certain someone. "

Ignoring the blatant comment made by the Warden, Clorinde seemed to find the duo a bit cute. Until, of course, she remembered something Neuvillette had randomly brought up. " He doesn't seem to enjoy tea. The last time I saw him drinking tea, he made a face. "

" Wriothesley, the Attorney doesn't like tea. "

" What? "

Making your way through the large prison, eventually making it to the Wardens office. You curtly nodded at the gardes stationed at the entrance, gently pushing the door to the office open. You hadn't brought any desserts today . . you'd been running a little late.

" Ah, there you are. You're a little late. " Wrio sat at his office table with a cup of tea. Huh . . usually, there would've been another one for you. You sat down at the guest seat and smiled. " Sorry about that. I see you're enjoying your tea. Nothing for me? "

" You're asking for tea? I thought you didn't like it. "

Pausing, you sat quiet for about 3 seconds before glancing up at the Warden. How'd be figure out? Not that it was a big secret . . but you'd been enjoying humoring him by drinking his tea. Even if he didn't know you didn't like it.

Wriothesley didn't seem very upset, instead, he seemed amused

how long did you think you'd be able to keep this up? actually . . how hadn't he noticed before?

he'd ask why you hadn't said anything earlier and when you responded, the way he was looking at you was as if he had just called your reasoning stupid

since then, he'd start bringing random drinks for your visits and let you try them out

whichever you reacted to best, he'd end up bringing more often.

. . even if you didn't like tea though, he still expects you to bring desserts for him

#yeo writes #:: #wriothesley #wriothesley x male reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x male reader #genshin x male reader

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

The whole dating conversation between Gon and Killua makes me lose my mind. neither of them have any damn clue what they're talking about or what the other is actually saying.

Gon says "oh yeah I've been on dates" but there is no way from the tone of this scene that they are anything but his aunt Mito telling him to be super well-behaved and courteous to female guests. he does not actually know what a date is. he thinks it's just 'guy does nice gestures for girl', with all the confidence of someone who has like. surface level, blanket knowledge of a subject but no actual depth djfhbvsdld. Meanwhile, all this goes right over Killua's head and he takes it to mean that Gon has real actual dating experience with older women at age 13, and any normal person would probably be calling fucking 911, but Killua has no damn clue what's normal so he just goes "oh my god. he has dated women -> he has experience -> he wants to date women -> he's going to leave me"

And then Killua proceeds to have an entire sad gay crisis about it

All this happens in like. A minute. Btw.

#storyrambles #this entire conversation hurts my head. both of you are so clueless!!! #hxh

[castiwls]

Love your blog btw:)

I saw you do platonic and was wondering if you could do one with the boys sister (if possible could she be older then sam but younger then dean) where there all dealing with the fallout of johns death

tysm!

by your side - d.w & s.w

Pairing; Sam & Dean x sister!reader (platonic)

Synposis; Johns death hit all of his children hard

Warnings; angst

Notes; I feel i kinda made John sound like a good dad in this lmao but how you wanna take it is up to you

Masterlist

The thought of your dad dying had always lingered over your head. Every time he missed a check in a voice in the back of your head screamed that it had finally happened. That John Winchester had made a fatal mistake and been killed by whatever he’d been hunting.

Dean had always assured you that it could never happen. But no matter what your older brother said the thought always lingered. Though in all the scenarios you’d imagined, you’d never imagined it happening like this. You’d never thought he would make a deal with a demon.

It had been a few days since Dean had been discharged and the three of you had decided to go up to Bobbys. None of you had really spoken about what had happened in the hospital. Dean had spent his time working on the Impala and you had locked yourself away in one of the guest's rooms.

You felt as if you were in a state of shock. You and your dad hadn’t always seen eye to eye but as you lay staring at the ceiling you couldn’t help but replay every memory of him you had. As you lay there you could feel tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

Your dad was dead and you never even got to say goodbye. John Winchester was by no means a perfect man, but he was your father and you loved him all the same.

A knock on your door had you quickly wiping your eyes before sitting up. “Co-come in.” 

The door squeeked as it opened and Sam’s head appeared. His eyes looked red as if he’d also been crying and you frowned. “Sam? What’s wrong?” You asked your younger brother. 

He didn't say anything as he shuffled into your room before lying down beside you. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “The last thing we did was argue y/n. He probably died thinking that I hated him or something” He sniffled slightly looking at you with teary eyes. Guilt had been eating Sam alive for the past few days. He’d never gotten to properly apologise and now he would never have the chance. 

You sighed before beginning to run a hand through his hair. “Sam. He knows you didn’t hate him. Trust me.” You smiled softly at him. “I know he never said it but deep down he was so proud of you.”

Sam hummed softly and leaned further into your chest.

“She’s telling the truth, Sammy.” Another voice chimed in. You felt the bed dip as Dean sat behind you. Sam kept quiet but you felt him relax slightly at Deans's words. 

Your brothers were all you had now. You felt Dean lie down beside you and you shifted slightly so you could see him. He rubbed a hand up your arm as he looked at your younger brother. 

After a while, Sam’s breathing evened out and you felt his hold loosen slightly as sleep took over.

“Are you ok? Seriously.” You whispered turning your head to look at Dean. The green-eyed man didn’t say anything for a moment and he just continued to rub your arm. “I…I don’t know.” He finally admitted. “Y/n what he said to me about-” He gestured to Sam. “what did he mean.” Dean’s tone was serious as he spoke. What John had told him was clearly causing more bother than you first realised. 

“And he only made that deal for me. I don’t understand why he would throw it all away when he was so close.” He frowned looking down at you.

“Maybe because your his son and he cared more about you than that damn thing that killed Mom.” Dean raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Maybe you were right.

He let out a sigh before shaking his head. “I don’t wanna have this conversation right now okay.” He wrapped his arm around you before settling down. 

“It’s late. We can talk in the morning.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Go to sleep.” 

Dean closing off was what you expected but at least you’d planted the seed. He shouldn't feel guilty for what your dad did. You nodded and spared Sam a glance.

The youngest Winchester was still sleeping calmly against your chest and you smiled softly brushing a hand through his hair. You felt Dean’s arm tighten around your shoulder slightly. You knew the movement was his way of telling you to sleep and stop worrying over Sam. 

You let out a quiet sigh as you lay back on the pillows, placing your head on Deans's shoulder. “Night.”

“Night sweetheart.”

None of you were okay but you had each other and as you lay there for the first time in days you felt some semblance of peace.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester x you #john winchester #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #john winchester x daughter!reader #winchester!sister #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester angst #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester angst #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x you #spn angst #spn fanfic #sam winchester imagine

[agaypanic]

The Fella Part 10 (James Maguire X Quinn!Reader)

The Fella Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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Summary: A family occasion takes a turn for a worse when Mary tells her aunt Bridie to drop dead, which she takes seriously. At her wake, Michelle has the bright idea to bring laced scones, which are taken and distributed among the guests.

A/N: credits to @crumpets-are-better-with-jam for writing out the script of the episode for me :)) btw just a warning, it gets a bit heated a little towards the end, but not too much i think. Also talks of drugs bc duh

***

It was becoming a bit difficult to keep up with who knew about Y/n and James’ relationship and who didn’t. Y/n’s sister Erin knew that she fancied James, but wasn’t updated on the fact that they had been dating for over three months now. Clare knew that the pair were going out after catching them kissing at the Take That concert a few weeks ago. But the rest of the group and the teens’ families were none the wiser.

Except for Y/n’s father, Gerry.

One night, everyone was hanging around the Quinn household. There were movies, loads of chatting, and some dinner. But with so many people in the house, it was hard to have even a moment alone with James. So, while everyone argued over what to put on next, Y/n snuck out to the front room, boyfriend close behind.

“I thought we weren’t gonna try to keep things a secret,” James said as he leaned against the wall, Y/n tucked into his side and holding his hand.

“I know Jamie. But with situations like this, I think it’s better to sneak away. I mean, imagine the shock that would come to Mammy, Granda, or Michelle if any of ’em found out.”

“Yeah…” James sighed, realizing Y/n was right.

“Now imagine if all three of them found out at the same time.” Y/n laughed at the idea while James’ eyes widened in horror. “Besides, wanting a moment to ourselves isn’t all bad, right?” She asked, looking up at the boy.

“Right.” He mirrored her soft smile before leaning down to catch her lips in a kiss that was eagerly returned. 

So eager that the two didn’t hear the door open.

“You’re lucky it’s me catching you two instead of your mother,” Gerry spoke, startling Y/n and James, who jumped apart. He felt a bit awkward catching his daughter kissing her boyfriend, but he didn’t look too surprised that she had a boyfriend in the first place.

“Da, I can explain.” Y/n tried to go on, but Gerry held up a hand, signaling her to stop.

“I already know.” He said with a smile, hands clasping behind his back. “About you two. Never would’ve if they didn’t decide to film that concert you girls went to.” That new information mortified Y/n and James. But they didn’t have time to fully react, because Gerry continued. “I think the three of us should have a little chat.”

***

The conversation wasn’t as bad as Y/n thought it would’ve been. Gerry was clearly happy and okay with the relationship, just wanting to make sure that they weren’t doing anything too serious. That topic might’ve been the most embarrassing part of the interaction for Y/n.

James, on the other hand, seemed scared shitless the entire time. But Y/n suspected that her father wasn’t so hard on him because of how he was treated by his father-in-law. He probably didn’t want to create some kind of a cycle. Plus, Gerry was pretty fond of James, even before he learned about him and his daughter being an item.

The entire talk played on a loop in Y/n’s head as she sat in church with the rest of her family, waiting for their relative’s wedding to start. Soon enough, the familiar tune of ‘Here Comes The Bride’ started to play, and everyone in the room stood.

“Where do you reckon Aunt Sarah is?” Y/n asked her sister Erin, noticing that a family member was missing from their pew. But her question was soon answered when Sarah entered the room and started walking down the aisle, dressed in white. “Good God.” 

Gasps and murmurs filled the room as Sarah went to stand with her family in the pew, revealing a horrified bride and her father behind her.

“Jesus, but that taxi took forever, so it did.” Sarah sighed. The bride-to-be looked at Sarah, absolutely appalled as she passed by. “Ach, isn’t she gorgeous?”

Mary rolled her eyes and looked up towards the sky as she took a deep breath.

“Give me strength…” She muttered.

***

Y/n was a bit surprised that the Quinn family, mainly her aunt Sarah, was still invited to the reception. But that didn’t stop her from trying to have a good time. She, her sister, and her cousin drank and danced around as they waited for their friends to arrive.

Soon enough, Erin spotted their friends, nudging her sister and cousin to gain their attention. They quickly ran to the venue entrance to meet with the other girls and James.

“Muthafuckas!” Michelle yelled in greetings, arms spread out and grin wide. 

“How’s it been?” Clare asked with a smile.

The sisters and Orla all had different responses, but had the same reaction when Mary snuck up behind the three of them.

“Girls!” The shout startled them, and everyone whipped around to look at her.

“Jesus, Mammy,” Y/n muttered.

“I said you could invite one friend to the reception. One!”

“Mammy, they don’t come separately,” Erin said, rolling her eyes. She thought her mother would’ve learned this after years of friendship.

“We’re like one big set,” Y/n said, gesturing to the group of teenagers.

“Aye, we’re pack animals, Mary,” Michelle said. Mary was about to say something, possibly tell them to leave or further reprimand them, when James spoke.

“I love your hat, Mrs. Quinn.” He said with a smile, eyeing the accessory. Mary smiled, and the girls were surprised to see that her slightly sour mood had seemed to disappear.

“Thanks, son.” She said, giving him a nod before looking at the whole group, a bit more serious. “No wild carry-on. Do you hear me? We’re in enough bother as it is. Best behavior.”

“Completely.” Clare nodded, taking the commands to heart.

“You’ll have no trouble from us, Mary,” Michelle said with an innocent smile, which should be worrying. Mary walked off, and Michelle turned back to the group once she was out of earshot. “Okay, girls, who wants to do drugs?” Y/n snorted at the complete 180, but Michelle was completely serious.

The girls, mainly Michelle and Erin, like always, had a back and forth about the drugs and someone named Macca and so on. Y/n used this moment to turn to James, almost glued to his side at the back of the group as they all walked around the reception party.

“Trying to butter up Mammy, are you?” She asked teasingly, thinking about how James’ little comment completely changed her mother’s sour demeanor.

James laughed a little, throwing his head back, and Y/n couldn’t help but smile stupidly at the boy. He shrugged.

“Well, I figured I might as well start now to try to get on her good side. It’s only a matter of time, I think.” Y/n nodded in agreement.

“We could tell them.” She suggested after a small moment of silence. James perked up, both surprised and delighted by the notion. “I mean, like you said, it’s only a matter of time. And they’d probably prefer hearing it from us over walking in on us doing something.”

James’ cheeks reddened at the sentence. He blinked a few times, his mind clearly drifting off to some kind of thought.

“And by something… you mean like-” Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and music started blasting through the speakers. Y/n lit up in excitement along with the rest of the room, while James looked a bit confused at the commotion that started to happen.

“‘Rock the Boat’! It’s ‘Rock the Boat!” Clare squealed as she recognized the song.

“Happy fuckin’ days!” Michelle said, and the girls ran to the dance floor. Y/n was dragging James behind her, who seemed slightly alarmed by everyone’s intense enthusiasm. 

Everyone sat on the floor in long, giant rows, fighting for space. The girls were able to push their way to the front, synchronously dancing with the rest of the party people. There, the girls continued their drug conversation, with Y/n and James now joining in.

“Look, Michelle,” Clare said to the girl behind her. “Drugs are illegal, drugs are addictive, and perhaps most importantly, in this country, you can lose your kneecaps if you’re caught doing them. And I like my kneecaps, Michelle; they suit my knees.”

“You do have crackin’ kneecaps, Clare.” Orla smiled at the girl, having to leave to the side and turn her head to look at the blonde.

“Is that true?” James asked, lips close to Y/n’s ear.

“What?” Y/n turned around, almost startled by how James was to her face. “Clare’s kneecaps?”

“No. I mean losing your kneecaps.”

“Oh. Clare’s a bit dramatic, Jamie.” The girl turned back around to face ahead. “But she’s a bit right, I think.”

“What?!”

Before any conversations could continue, a dull but loud thud was heard from a corner of the room. Everyone looked to see Aunt Bridie lying on the floor, with the Quinn family looking at Mary in shock.

***

The next few days felt tense at the Quinn household. It was mainly the teenagers being fearful of Mary, because they believed that she was the reason for her Aunt Bridie’s sudden death and didn’t want to be her next victim. The house had never been so clean and tidy.

“I just cannot believe it.” Mary’s tone was almost flat as she stared off into space, clutching her teacup and rarely ever sipping it.

“Listen, Mary,” Sarah said, sitting in the chair beside her. “No matter what you’ve done, you’re still my sister. I’ll stand by you.”

“I haven’t done anything, Sarah.”

“Exactly, love. Everybody knows you didn’t mean to kill the old boot.” Grandpa Joe paused to take a sip of his coffee. “God rest her soul.”

“I didn’t kill her,” Mary responded, immediately tired of the assumption.

“You know what I mean, not kill.” Joe looked around as if he would find the word he was looking for on the wall. “Hex.”

“I didn’t hex her either, Da.” She said defensively. “It was just a very tragic-”

“My mother, she had the gift too, y’know.” Joe interrupted. “By God, that woman could make her enemies drop like flies.”

“Look, I don’t have any gift,” Mary said, letting go of her teacup to lay her hands flat on the table to show finality and seriousness. “There’s no dark forces at play here. I just said somethin’... unfortunate that happened to-”

“Cause her death?” Sarah asked.

“Coincide with her death.” Mary corrected.

Ah, yes. Mary telling her aunt Bridie to drop dead and then her actually doing it was just an unfortunate coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less.

Meanwhile, at the sink, Y/n dried the last dish that Erin washed and handed it to Orla to put away. The three girls had been working as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb Mary. Erin was the first to speak, turning around slowly with a nervous tone.

“Right. Well, that’s the dishes done. Would you like another cup of tea, Mammy?”

As if remembering she even had a cup of tea, Mary looked down at the cup and took a quick sip.

“No, I’m fine.”

“I’ll just grab the Hoover n’give the stairs a bit of a going over.”

“Aye, and I can sweep the hall and such,” Y/n added, trying to remember the last place she had seen the broom. 

“And I’ll maybe do a bit of dusting,” Orla said.

Mary raised an eyebrow, suspicion of the girls pulling her out of her dazed and solemn mood.

“What’s gotten into you all?” She asked. “What’re you up to? What’s going on?”

“Nothin’!” Erin answered, still seeming a bit scared. “We just thought that we should pull our weight a bit more, Mammy.”

“You do so much for us, Aunt Mary.”

“Aye, Mammy, you deserve a bit of a break.”

“I can’t hex people, girls,” Mary said frustratedly. “It was an accident.”

As if on cue, Gerry waltzed into the kitchen and smiled at his wife. He placed a hand on her shoulder as part of a greeting.

“So, how’s the Wicked Witch of the North West?” The question seemed so loving and innocent. Y/n would’ve laughed if Mary hadn’t seemed like she was actually about to murder someone.

“Who put fifty p in the eedgit?” Joe asked, glaring at Gerry. Gerry looked at him confused, wondering what he had done this time.

Mary groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

“God, how am I going to go to this wake?”

“It’ll be grand, love,” Joe said. “But listen, say if things do get heated, try not to rise to it. The last thing we want is another dead body on our hands here.”

Mary stared up at Joe with a blank expression.

“I’ll do my best, Da.”

***

Later that evening, the Quinns and McCools arrived at the wake. Everyone seemed a bit surprised and startled to see Mary, clearly believing the rumors that she had been her Aunt Bridie’s undoing. After a slightly awkward encounter with Eamon, Bridie’s son, the girls escaped everyone by going upstairs to the room that held Bridie herself.

“She really suits bein’ dead, doesn’t she?” Orla said after a good moment of solemn silence, staring down at the woman.

“What?” Erin seemed disturbed by what her cousin had said, but Y/n nodded.

“No, yeah, I agree. I like her better like this.”

“Y/n, she’s dead.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you liked her better living?”

Before Erin could answer, the door to the room opened. The girls turned to see Clare peeking her head through.

“Can we come in?” She asked in a whisper.

“Why are you whispering, Clare?” Y/n asked, tilting her head in confusion. Clare paused, thinking it over.

“I don’t know.”

The rest of the group crowded around Bridie’s casket. Michelle and Clare walked to the end by her feet, and James decided to stand behind Y/n. He rested a hand gently on her shoulder, as if to comfort her, and she raised a hand of her own to lay on his, as if to thank him.

“Thanks for comin’, guys.” Erin sighed, seeming slightly distressed now. “It’s nice to have a bit of support in this very difficult time.” Everyone seemed very confused by the statement. 

“You thought she was a dick,” Michelle said.

“I never said that.”

“You did, Erin,” Orla said.

“I’m pretty sure we all thought she was a dick, but you were the vocal one about it,” Y/n added.

“Aye, I’ve definitely heard you say it,” Clare said.

“Okay, can I just check something?” James asked, clearly focused on something else. The girls looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “Everybody else can see the dead body, right?”

Everyone took a glance at the body in question, trying to figure out what the problem was.

“It’s just Bridie, Jamie,” Y/n said.

“It’s Bridie’s corpse.” The boy corrected. “It’s Bridie’s dead corpse.”

“It’s her wake. What were you expectin’?” Michelle asked, rolling her eyes.

“Haven’t you ever seen a dead body before?” Erin asked.

“Of course not!” James nearly yelled, shocked that Erin would even ask such a question. Michelle scoffed.

“Christ, but the English are weird.”

Orla leaned down close to Bridie, taking her face in her hands and looking up at James. She had that childlike but absentminded wonder in her eyes and smile that she always had.

“You can touch her if you want.”

James flinched, moving his hands to Y/n’s hips as he took a slight step back. As he moved back, he maneuvered Y/n to act as a shield between him and the dead body and Orla. James looked at Orla in disgusted shock.

“Why the hell would I want to touch her?” Y/n snorted at James’ suddenly high-pitched voice.

“It’s nice.” Orla smiled brightly.

“Stop it.”

“It’s just a dead body, James,” Clare said in a comforting tone, trying to get him to calm down. “We’re all gonna be one someday.”

“Oh, thanks for that, Clare!” Horrified, James brought Y/n closer until her back was pressed against his front. It was as if everyone else was some sort of strange or bad energy that could only be warded off by Y/n, and she was happy to go along with it. “Yeah, that’s helped!”

“It’s okay, Jamie,” Y/n said, patting one of the hands gripping her hips. James relaxed just a bit, but was still weary because of how weird this whole situation was to him. “Calm yourself.”

“It really makes you think, doesn’t it?” Michelle said solemnly, staring at Bridie for a second before looking at the girls. “Death.” She sighed dramatically, and everyone immediately wondered what she was up to this time. “It just… just makes you wanna… do everythin’ and just… try everythin’.”

“What’s going on, Michelle?” Clare asked, looking at her suspiciously.

“Yeah, what are you on about?” Y/n eyed the girl with a raised brow. Michelle suddenly seemed excited, a stark contrast to her fake grimness.

“Do you wanna see something’ class?” Michelle then threw her purse, which was, for some reason, big and bulky, onto Bridie’s feet. Someone would’ve reprimanded her for disrespecting the deceased by using Bridie as a table, but they were too busy watching her pull a big Tupperware out of her purse. “Prepare yourself, girls.” She then popped the lid off to show what was inside. She looked at her friends excitedly.

“Scones?” Erin asked, clearly unimpressed.

“That’s right.”

“What’s so class about scones?”

“Scones are lovely.” Orla countered, seeming a bit offended by Erin’s uninterest.

“Aye, I like scones.” Clare nodded.

“No, these aren’t any old scones, girls.” Michelle insisted, shaking her head. “These are funny scones.”

“Funny’s the right word, alright,” Y/n said, reaching for one of the scones in the bin to look at it. As she dropped it back in with the rest, she looked at Michelle with a tilt of her head. “What’s so special about ’em?”

“They’re drug scones!” Clare squeaked, pointing urgently at the food. “She’s put the drugs in the scones!”

“Too fuckin’ right, I have,” Michelle said with a grin. “I wanted to do brownies, but this was the only recipe my ma had, so…”

“I don’t think it’s that hard to find a brownie recipe, Michelle,” Y/n said. 

“I’m not goin’ out of my way to find a brownie recipe, Y/n.”

“We talked about this, Michelle. We agreed.” Clare said, bringing the conversation back to the drugs.

“No, we didn’t,” Michelle argued. “Anyway, drugs aren’t illegal when you put them into food. Everybody knows that.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Michelle,” Y/n said.

“Is that right?” James asked sarcastically, almost glaring with bewilderment at his cousin. “I’m not sure that’s right.”

Just then, the door opened, and everybody froze. An old woman walked in, and the girls quickly recognized her as one of the caterers for the wake.

“Any cups up here?” She asked, walking towards them while looking around. She spotted the tub, and before anyone could stop her, she reached out and grabbed it. “I’ll take that.” The woman said simply before leaving the room.

Everyone stared at where the scones had once been, panic running through them all.

“What the fuck just happened?” Michelle asked the room. Y/n looked at the girl with wide eyes.

“I believe a caterer just took your funny fuckin’ scones to give out at our great Aunt Bridie’s wake, Michelle.”

After another moment of feeling frozen, everyone went downstairs as fast as possible without drawing attention. Defeated and not knowing what to do, the girls sat down on the steps. As they settled, they watched Joe pass by with one of the scones in hand.

“What are we gonna do?” Clare asked frantically.

“It’s fine,” Michelle said shortly. But everyone could tell she was just as panicked as the rest.

“It’s definitely not fine!” Clare hissed. “There’s drug scones down there. People’ll eat the drug scones, then we’ve drugged those people, Michelle.”

“Our granda included.” Y/n butted in, resting her chin on the top of James’ head, who was sitting on one of the steps just below her. “Lord knows what’ll happen to him.”

“So?” Michelle said, clearly worried but trying to seem aloof. “Drugging people isn’t a crime.”

“You’ve a very loose grasp of the law, Michelle,” James said, rubbing at his eyes in disbelief and exhaustion.

“What kind of person brings hash scones to a wake?” Erin asked with a scowl. Michelle scoffed.

“Typical.” She said. “I try to do a nice thing, and this is the thanks I get.”

“A nice thing?” Y/n repeated in disbelief, turning back to look at Michelle. “Oh yeah, how nice. Let’s all get hopped up illegally at a wake. Oh, wait. We can’t, because someone took your stupid scones!”

“It’s terrible,” Clare added, sounding as panicked and scared as usual. “There’s old people down there; what if an old person takes one?”

“Why does everyone get so sentimental about old people?” Michelle asked. “Old people are arseholes.” 

“We’ve got to get ’em back, girls,” Erin said, starting to get scared of the thought of any of her family having a funny scone.

“Look, I’m not disagreeing with you. I bought that stuff so I could get high, not your great Uncle Colm.”

“Oh Christ, I didn’t even think about that,” Y/n muttered. Colm was already a character to begin with; him being high as balls would probably turn him either more boring or unmanageable. Y/n stood up and faced the girls. “Here’s the plan. I’ll head to the kitchen to grab whatever’s left. The rest of you go and find the ones that people have taken and pray that they haven’t taken a bite yet.”

“And remember, girls,” Erin said, standing up with her sister. “Be subtle.” Everyone nodded and split up to do their tasks.

Y/n went to the kitchen and quietly crept to the swinging door. She took a quick look, saw that the few people inside were occupied with different things, and carefully walked in. She was surprised to see her father ranting about cross-contamination and using different bowls. Y/n wondered if he had been roped into helping in the kitchen, but whether he was forced or had volunteered, she smiled at the sight of his sudden passion.

Y/n spotted the scones, about half the amount from the last time she saw them, now plated on a serving platter. While reaching for the plate, the door opened behind her.

“Now listen here, you.” Y/n flinched and turned around quickly, recognizing the voice to be her granda Joe. But he wasn’t looking at her. As usual, he directed his pointed look to Gerry, who looked at his father-in-law, both confused and annoyed.

“Yes, Joe?”

“I just wanna say…” Joe trailed off, getting closer to Gerry and putting a hand on his shoulder. Gerry and Y/n looked at the old man in bewilderment when he laughed. “I think you’re doing a fine job.” Then he patted Gerry’s cheek before turning around and walking out of the kitchen. “Keep up the good work.”

Gerry and Y/n turned their shocked stares to each other once Joe was out of the room. The only thing that broke their eye contact was a timer going off, which somehow snapped Gerry back into his working mode. Using the opportunity of her dad’s distractedness, Y/n swiped the platter and walked out.

The girl soon realized that she and her friends never agreed on a place to meet after retrieving the scones. But not wanting anyone to see her wander around with a platter of scones, she snuck back upstairs, where she was surprised to see James slowly wandering the hallway.

“Hey,” Y/n said with relief, glad it was him instead of a stranger. Or worse, her mother.

“Hey.” He smiled at her, holding up a scone as he walked closer to her. “Found your uncle Colm with this.” He sat the scone on top of the others.

“Thank God you got it before he took a bite.” Y/n laughed lightly, James joining in. “Were you just waiting for someone to come up?”

“Yeah, I thought being up here would be better than wandering around where everyone else was.”

“Smart.” Y/n nodded once, looking around the empty hall. “What do you suppose we do about all of these?”

The two thought for a moment, racking their brains for an idea. James suddenly snapped his fingers.

“Remember when you snuck over to mine that one night, and we watched Goodfellas?”

“Aye, Ray Liotta was a dream, wasn’t he?”

“Sure.” James rolled his eyes at the comment. “But do you remember how Karen got rid of the drugs?”

Y/n took a quick second to think about whether or not she did, in fact, remember. The most memorable things of the night she snuck over to James’ were Ray Liotta, the snacks James had snuck up to his room, and kissing each other to keep loud talking or laughs from gaining the attention of the rest of the household.

“You think it’ll work?” Y/n asked once she remembered what James was talking about. “I mean, these are scones.”

“What other options do we have?” James asked. And to be honest, Y/n couldn’t think of any.

The sound of a knob turning startled the two teens. They scrambled to hide the stolen platter of scones behind them just before the bathroom door a bit down the hall opened up. A middle-aged woman that Y/n barely recognized walked out, and Y/n and James smiled politely at her as she passed.

Once she was down the stairs, James and Y/n ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind them.

“Let’s just wait for the others here,” Y/n said, balancing the platter on the sink so she wouldn’t have to hold it any longer. “So… what d’ya wanna do?”

It took a few seconds of silence before Y/n and James rushed at each other, quickly becoming a mess of tangled limbs and clashing lips. The couple rarely had time alone for things like this, the heat of the moment always being ignored because of the fear of being caught. But with a locked door, a few minutes of making out couldn’t do much harm.

Y/n’s hands buried themselves into James’ curls, tugging at them as he backed her into the wall next to the door. A hand cupped the back of her neck while the other stayed gripped on her waist, keeping her in place. Not that she’d want to leave.

James’ lips strayed away from Y/n’s, leaving featherlight kisses across her cheek and jaw before settling on her neck. The hand on Y/n’s neck pulled back her hair, giving James the access he needed to nip and suck lightly at the sensitive skin just below Y/n’s ear.

“Are you marking me?” She asked, breath hitching. She wasn’t opposing the matter, far from it, really. But she was a bit surprised to have this kind of behavior coming from James.

“Just a bit.” He replied breathlessly, kissing the slightly sore spot before returning to Y/n’s lips. “For a bit of fun, y’know?” Y/n giggled. She was lucky that she could probably hide the soon-to-be mark by keeping her hair down.

“Sure, just a bit of fun.” She replied, pecking James’ lips a few times.

The two were able to get themselves straightened out just before the rest of the girls found them. They closed the door behind them, and James caught them all up on the plan.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” Michelle sighed as she and the rest of the group broke apart the scones and dropped the crumbled bits into the toilet. “It’s fuckin’ heartbreaking.”

“Believe me, Michelle, it’s better this way,” Y/n said, grabbing another laced scone. “Granda’s had one, and now he’s acting, like, really fuckin’ weird.”

“You’re being paranoid.”

“He was nice to Daddy.” The group made noises of shock and disbelief. “Exactly. And if Mammy starts asking questions…”

“You’re Ma won’t trace it back to us.”

“Are you serious?” Erin asked Michelle. “She traces everything back to us. She traces things we haven’t even done back to us!”

“Are you sure this’ll work?” Clare asked James.

“This is how you get rid of drugs, Clare.” He said confidently, as if this wasn’t the first time he’s had to do this. “I’ve seen Goodfellas, like, twenty times.”

“Aye, good movie,” Y/n commented as she brushed her hands on her jeans to get rid of the crumbs that stuck to her nervously sweaty palms. 

“That’s not the only way.” Orla countered. “I watched this film once about this girl who was tryin’ to hide drugs, and what she did was she shoved them right up her—”

“I’m not sticking a scone up my hole, Orla.” Michelle hissed. Orla shrugged, raising her hands in defense.

Once everyone was done breaking down the scones, Clare sighed, seeming as nervous and panicked as always.

“Okay, I’m gonna flush.” She did so, and everyone watched as not much happened. “Is it working?”

“‘Course it’s working,” James said, still sure of his plan.

But then the water started to rise, and everyone started to panic.

“Jesus Christ!” Erin yelped in a high-pitched voice. “Why is the water rising, James?”

“I don’t know! The water didn’t rise in Goodfellas!”

“We’ve clogged it.”

“Who has a plunger?” Orla asked, seeming to be the most calm of the group.

“I’m afraid I left the house without me plunger tonight, Orla,” Erin replied, clearly sarcastic. 

“Aye, me too,” Orla replied seriously. “Nightmare, so it is.”

The toilet started flooding faster, and the girls scrambled around in a panic. Scone water was beginning to spill onto the floor, and everyone had to stop themselves from gagging as they tried to find a way to clean it up. This situation couldn’t possibly get any worse.

“Dear God…” Everyone whipped around to see the adults of the Quinn and McCool families, plus Bridie’s son, Eamon. Erin laughed nervously, deciding to be the one to find an excuse.

“It looks worse than it is.” Was all she said, which really wasn’t much of an excuse.

“My mother was right about you people,” Eamon said, horrified and angry. “Wild animals have more manners.”

“We didn’t have a plunger, Eamon!” Orla shouted.

“Get out!” He yelled. “Get out!”

The teens did so gladly, running out of the bathroom and out of the house. They gathered on the front lawn, and they couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the evening. But they still feared what would happen when Mary walked out.

“The night wasn’t all that bad, I think,” James said quietly, only Y/n being able to hear him. She looked up at him curiously.

“How so?”

Instead of speaking, he raised his hand to cup her neck, gently tapping where he had bruised her. She gasped, pushing his hand away before the two of them fell into laughter, not caring about the confused looks their friends gave them.

“I’ll see you Monday, then?” He asked when they had calmed down a bit. Y/n caught a glimpse of her mother leaving the house before she answered.

“If I live that long.”

~~~

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#agaypanic #james maguire x reader #james maguire #derry girls x reader #derry girls

[makeandshift]

No boundaries!BFF with Hasan

bless @the-phantom-author for putting this out into the universe for everyone to enjoy

Everyone who sees them interact for any amount of time immediately thinks they are dating, which they will both deny. Not even in a ‘no we’re not’ kind of way, but acting like it’s the craziest thing they ever heard anyone say, like it is on par with the sky is green. None of this helps any of the allegations of course.

Either of them goes on a date and once they get home they immediately calls the other to tell them all the details. They know entirely to much about each other’s preferences, needs and wants, and half of these conversations just end up being a variation of ‘how could they ever think you’d like that?’ and ‘that is not what you need from a relationship at all’

Just barging into each other’s homes like they live there. Could be the middle of the night, could be at 7 am, who even knows honestly. They probably bring groceries as well because they remembered that the last time they were over x, y, and z was running out.

What even is a guest bedroom? Sleeping over means sleeping in each other’s bed all cuddled up with zero space between them. Also they probably sleep worse if the other isn’t next to them.

Hasan has totally offered his bestie to move in with him at least a dozen times. Anytime something is wrong with their apartment he mentions that he has plenty of space in his ‘mansion’.

Forehead kisses!!!! So many, all the time, no reason needed.

Random gift giving just because they saw something that reminded them of each other. Hasan probably spends ridiculous amounts of money on these. Don’t even dare mention liking something because he will have it delivered the next day.

Must sit next to each other! It’s just the rules okay. Inevitably one of them ends up with their head on the other’s shoulder, a hand resting on their knee, some hand holding to toy with their jewellery. Or just a combination of those.

Fidgeting with each other’s jewellery is totally a common thing for them, btw. Anything else doesn’t even cut it as a coping mechanism anymore.

#words words words #hasan piker x reader #hasanabi x reader #gn!reader #blurbs #i did it #i wrote a thing #no boundaries!bff

[kokoch4n3l]

˗ˏˋ ve kamleya ࿐ྂ "if you want to do something, go fall in love. fulfill your stubborn wish for once"

summary: in which during a deal with overseas businessmen, bonten finds out about your shitty ex from high school

pairing(s): slight bonten x poc!oc, implied mikey x poc!oc

notes: oc is punjabi cuz I said so and this is also kind of a self-insert so... title from my fav hindi song ve kamleya, the video has eng subs btw. dividers by cafekitsune

warnings: dark content 18+, canon typical violence, drug-related business(opium), drug trafficking, slight misogyny, implied/referenced ptsd, past abusive relationship, mean!manjiro, slight insensitivity, blood and gore, implied torture, implied murder, suggestive themes

word count: 3770

The smoky haze of the dimly lit room hung heavy, casting shadows that danced across the faces of the assembled men. Sano Manjiro, the imposing leader of the Bonten gang, sat at the head of the table, his steely gaze surveying the room with a mixture of authority and calm. Around him sat his trusted lieutenants, each one a force to be reckoned with in their own right. The only woman among them, commanded the attention of the room as she rose to address their guests once again after hours of debate. After all, Sano Manjiro trusted no one else to get this deal done. “I understand the… demand, for opium up in the north of India but you should also know we aren’t lowering our price either” She says in English, tone gentle yet somehow firm at the same time 

Her words hung in the air, a subtle reminder of the strength of their position in the negotiations. The guests shifted uncomfortably, keenly aware of the delicate balance of power at play. "We are prepared to meet your needs," she continued in the same language, her gaze steady. "But it must be on terms that are mutually beneficial."

One man clears his throat and speaks up finally. “You must understand Miss, we have no deficiency of suppliers, especially for opium,” The man says in English with a slight accent behind it as he casually adjusts his gold rings “The stuff from Japan is a lot higher in quality which is why we’re here doing this deal anyway. But we—”

“Because it is a lot higher in quality we cannot lower our price” She interjects with a calm smile “You know, labour costs and all” 

The man's expression tightened, his gaze flickering between her and Sano Manjiro as if weighing his options. Behind him, his companions exchanged cautious glances, sensing the tension in the air. "We understand your position," the man replied finally, his tone conceding to the reality of the situation. "But surely there's room for negotiation."

Her smile remained fixed, though her eyes betrayed no hint of compromise. "Of course, negotiations are always possible," she conceded her voice like velvet over steel. "But we must be clear on one thing: our price reflects not just the quality of our product, but the risks we undertake to supply it."

Akashi Takeomi, silent until now, leaned forward slightly. "Our operations are not without their challenges," he added, his voice low back in the same language, his accent a lot thicker than hers "But for the right partners, we are willing to mitigate those risks."

The men turn to each other and start conversing in another language and at the same time, she quietly translates to Takeomi exactly what they’re saying back in Japanese. She eyes Manjiro who’s standing in front of the large floor-to-ceiling windows of the meeting room. It looked like he was zoned out, staring at the skyline of Tokyo but she and the rest of Bonten knew better than to think that. He was listening alright, even when it didn’t look like he was. The rest were just leaning back in their chairs, bored from the constant debate. “Say, Miss…” One of the men, probably the youngest, says in English with a prominent American accent “I hear you’re from India too. What state?”

She raises her brow at the question but responds anyway. “Punjab”

The other men seem to get excited at her answer. Of course, they would. After all, what language were they speaking this entire time to each other? “Really? I knew I recognized that nose from somewhere” One man switches to Punjabi when addressing her “Women from the north are known for being beautiful. I should have known you were from there”

His change of tone catches Manjiro’s attention and he finally, since the beginning of this meeting, turns to look at the businessmen. He obviously didn’t understand what they said but his instincts were something even the executives were afraid of so she won’t doubt that he had gotten the gist of what had been said. She shifts in her seat, Takeomi and the rest of Bonten looking at her curiously. “As much as I appreciate the flattery, we still aren’t lowering our price” She replies calmly in English, knowing replying back in Punjabi would no doubt make Manjiro aggravated as he liked to know what she was saying at all times

The businessmen exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. Behind them, Sano Manjiro remained silent, his gaze now fixed on her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. She knew that he was listening, that every word spoken in his presence was carefully scrutinized for any hint of deception or weakness. The youngest of the group seemed unfazed by her response, pressing on with his attempts at charm. "Come on, sweetheart," he said, an American accent thick even when speaking in Punjabi, with arrogance. "Surely we can come to some sort of arrangement."

Her smile tightened, a glimmer of steel beneath her gentle facade. "I'm afraid not," she replied in English, her tone cool and final. "Our price is non-negotiable."

The tension in the room was palpable, the air heavy with the weight of unspoken threats. It’s just then the door of the meeting room opens revealing a new face. “Sorry I’m late, traffic in Tokyo is—”

Manjiro waves the newcomer off. He was obviously with the other businessmen. The other executives are annoyed as hell with the lateness, after all the meeting had been going on for hours already, but don’t mention it as they’re tired. But that’s when Manjiro notices his only female executive has gone still. She’s frozen which is extremely uncharacteristic of her and it worries him. So he does the first thing that comes to mind. “How about we take a break.” He says, voice low and everyone knows it’s not an offer but a command

Manjiro headed for the door of the meeting room and his executives followed behind, Takeomi having to literally drag her to stand at one point. They’re in the elevator. Manjiro eyes her as she removes her red-bottomed heels from her feet, sighing in relief. The elevator is going up to the top floor. “Any weaknesses so far?” Kakucho asks, his voice breaking the silence

“Punctuality apparently” Ran mutters in annoyance 

They all look toward her, wondering what she had to say but instead, she’s silent, holding her heels in one hand, leaning against the elevator wall looking very out of breath. Rindo snaps his fingers in front of her face. “Dude” he says

“Hm?” she looks up at him, uncharacteristically dazed

Usually, she would have snapped at him, kicked Rindo in the shin or threatened to stab him with her heels but no, she didn’t. It was… concerning. Her uncharacteristic behaviour caught everyone’s attention. She isn’t usually like this— quiet, dazed and unconfident. No one is sure what to say, not even Kakucho who was Bonten’s collective impulse control and unlicenced and unpaid therapist. The elevator reaches the top floor and they file out of the elevator, into the private lounge. They watch in silence as she sits on the long circular-shaped couch, her heels dropped carelessly to the floor as she puts her hair up, revealing the hanafuda full moon tattoo on the back of her neck— on the same location as Manjiro has his. Manjiro takes a seat next to her and the rest sit on the couch too, staring. She looks at them, narrowing her eyes a bit. “What?”

“We should be asking you that” Mochi says as he lights himself a cigarette 

Her gaze lingered on each member of Bonten in turn, her expression inscrutable, as if weighing her words carefully before speaking. The tension in the room tightened like a taut wire, anticipation thrumming through the air. "I'm fine," she finally replied, her tone clipped, though the strain in her voice was evident to those who knew her well. "Too many languages just making my head hurt"

The response did little to ease the unease that had settled over the group like a heavy fog. They had seen her weather countless storms with unyielding resolve, her strength a pillar upon which they had come to rely. But now, faced with her uncharacteristic vulnerability, they found themselves at a loss for how to proceed. Manjiro studied her carefully, his keen eyes searching for any sign of deception or weakness. He knew her better than anyone and understood the walls she erected to shield herself from the world. But beneath the facade of stoicism, he sensed a flicker of genuine concern, a vulnerability she had never shown before. “Nah uh,” Sanzu says rolling his eyes “You started being all weird when the motherfucker who doesn’t know how to be on time showed up”

She shifts uncomfortably. It seems Sanzu’s observation was a hit. Her discomfort was palpable, her usual confidence shaken by the blunt observation. She shifted in her seat, a flicker of uncertainty betraying her stoic facade. The others watched her closely, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity, unsure of how to proceed. Sanzu's words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the tension that had simmered beneath the surface since the newcomer's arrival. She felt the weight of their expectations bearing down on her, the pressure to maintain her composure in the face of mounting scrutiny. "I..." She began, her voice trailing off as she struggled to find the right words. 

She couldn’t find an excuse. But even as she stayed silent, she could feel the disapproving stares of her companions, their silent judgment weighing heavily upon her. Manjiro, ever the astute leader, sensed her distress and moved to intervene. "Enough," he declared, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. "This conversation is over."

His authoritative tone brooked no argument, and the others fell silent, their eyes darting between her and their leader. “Go back to the meeting the rest of you”

Rest of you meaning, everyone leave and Manjiro and her stay. Without a word, the others rose from their seats, casting one last glance at her before filing out of the room. As the door closed behind them, a heavy silence descended, leaving only Manjiro and her alone in the private lounge. Manjiro looks at her, black eyes a bottomless pit of nothing. “What’s wrong?” He asks

There was no room for reflecting on his question. Manjiro was direct and needed answers as to why his best negotiator had suddenly frozen up in the midst of a deal. “You know him” It wasn’t a question this time but an observation

Manjiro understood the intricacies of their world better than anyone, and he knew the dangers that lurked beneath the surface of even the most seemingly innocuous interactions. The newcomer's presence had disrupted the delicate balance of power, setting off alarm bells in her mind that she couldn't ignore. “I um… I…” She isn’t able to get her words out

He gives her a look. “Tell me” It’s a command

She shifts uncomfortably. She fiddles with her white gold rings, they glimmer under the artificial lighting. “That’s my ex…”

Manjiro raises a brow. Her admission hung heavy in the air, the weight of her revelation settling like a leaden cloak upon them both. Manjiro's expression remained unreadable, though a flicker of concern danced in the depths of his obsidian eyes. "Your ex…" he repeated, his voice betraying no emotion.

She nodded, her throat constricting with the weight of unspoken memories and unresolved emotions. She had hoped to keep her past firmly buried in the depths of her mind, but now, confronted with Manjiro's unwavering gaze, she found herself unable to hide the truth any longer. "He... he wasn't supposed to be here," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought... I thought I could handle it, but..."

Her words trailed off, lost in the suffocating silence that enveloped them. She could feel the weight of Manjiro's scrutiny bearing down upon her, his gaze penetrating as he searched for some semblance of understanding in her haunted eyes. “And what did he do for my best negotiator to react like a psychiatric patient just at the sight of him?”

She shifts again but this time he holds her thigh to stop her from moving. There was no getting out of this conversation. Manjiro always got what he wanted and right now he wanted answers. “I… I dated him in high school”

It’s been years. She knows Manjiro is gonna belittle her for being this way over something that ended years ago but… She spills. She tries her best to tell him vaguely what happened— trying to be as vague as possible but Manjiro just keeps asking for more details. He wanted to know everything and once he was satisfied he pulled out his phone and typed something then threw it carelessly on the table. “Is that why you don’t date or sleep around like the others do?” He asks bluntly “Because of what he did?”

Manjiro looked angry. It was odd seeing an actual emotion in his eyes for once even if it was anger. She gulps. Oh man did she hate her stupid ex right now. It had been years since they broke up or well, since she forced the break up because he refused to let her leave. That stupid asshole traumatized her so badly that now even though she was an executive for Japan’s most ruthless and dangerous gang, he made her want to throw up from fear. “I’m sorry—”

“Shut up” Manjiro says lowly but she keeps going

“No, it was extremely unprofessional and I shouldn’t let my personal feelings come in the middle of work—”

He cuts her off again, grabbing her face and squeezing her cheeks together. Her lips jut out a bit from the action. The tips of Manjiro’s fingers dig into her cheeks and her skin warms under his touch, turning the most endearing shade of pink he’s ever seen. “And what exactly are you apologizing for?” Manjiro mutters looking annoyed

She thinks he might just shoot her, empty his Glock out in her head and get Sanzu or Koko to call the cleaners to get rid of her body and turn her into fishbait. “F-For fucking up the deal…” She tries saying as he squeezes her face tighter with the tips of his fingers

Manjiro chuckles and it has to be one of the scariest things she’s heard in her life. “Wrong. Apologize for dating such an ugly little bitch”

“... huh?”

She thinks she’s hearing things. “You heard me,” Manjiro says nonchalantly “apologize” 

Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to comprehend the meaning behind his words. Was this some twisted form of punishment? Or was there something else, something more insidious, at play here? With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, She realized that she was treading dangerous waters, her every move scrutinized by the man before her. And as she searched his eyes for some semblance of understanding, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his demand than met the eye. Sanzu and Rindo often joked that she got away with a lot of things and Manjiro was the most lenient with her. Was Manjiro finally giving her the punishment she deserved for all the other times she fucked up? Oh man, no way she was going to die because of her stupid bitch ass ex. “Hey” He says snapping her out of her thoughts

She looks at him. “The deal is off. I don’t want it to go through anyway”

Her eyes widen at his words. “Wait w-what—”

But Manjiro's expression remained impassive, his gaze unwavering as he met her eyes. There was a hardness in his stare, a determination that sent a shiver down her spine. "I said the deal is off," he repeated, his tone firm.

Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of Manjiro's decision. Was this punishment for her perceived failure? Or was there something else at play, something she couldn't quite grasp? As she searched his eyes for some clue, some hint of understanding, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Manjiro's actions than met the eye. Manjiro's gaze held a steely resolve as she struggled to comprehend his abrupt decision. The implications of the deal falling through reverberated through the room, casting a shadow over their carefully laid plans. But beneath the surface, she sensed a tension, a hidden undercurrent that hinted at something deeper. "Why?" she asked, her voice tinged with confusion and a hint of desperation. "Why cancel the deal?"

Manjiro's expression softened ever so slightly, a flicker of something akin to regret in his eyes. It was a rare moment of vulnerability, one that sent a jolt of uncertainty coursing through her veins. "Because some things are more important than business," Manjiro replied, his voice low and measured.

Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of his cryptic words. What could be more important than securing Bonten's position in the underworld? What could possibly justify throwing away the opportunity they had worked so hard to achieve? But before she can speak, he lets go of her face and his hand slides to the back of her neck, the tips of his fingers now digging into her— his— tattoo. Almost as if he could read her mind he asks, “Are you questioning my authority?”

She doesn’t dare move away from him or shake her no to answer him. Manjiro didn’t like being answered with gestures, he preferred words. “N-No…”

“Good” he says 

Manjiro's hand lingered on the back of her neck, his touch was both possessive and unsettling. She could feel the weight of his gaze upon her, his eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her breath catch in her throat. His nails slightly dig into the knobs of her spine, right on the tattoo. It doesn’t hurt but it feels hot. One thing Manjiro often reminded her of is that Bonten was his. That included the executives and that especially included her. Her life belonged to him and he clearly wasn’t taking her being afraid of someone that wasn’t him very nicely. “You’re really gonna let a guy like that stop you from ever falling in love again?”

The question almost stopped her heart because it was not what she expected him to ask. She had never expected Manjiro to broach such a sensitive topic, let alone express concern for her romantic endeavours. But beneath the surprise, a flicker of something else stirred within her—a yearning for something more, something beyond the confines of Bonten's ruthless world. "I..." she faltered, her voice barely above a whisper. 

How could she explain the depths of her fear, the scars that her past had left upon her soul? How could she make him understand the tangled web of emotions that had kept her trapped in the shadow of her own memories? But before she could formulate a response, Manjiro's hand tightened on the back of her neck, his grip possessive yet strangely comforting. "You don't have to answer now," he said, his voice softer than before but it quickly went back to being harsh “I am disappointed though”

His hand holding her thigh comes up to hold her cheek now. She’s frozen, unsure of what to do. "How could my executive let a little bitch like that do that to her and not move on for years?" Manjiro's voice was low, his words cutting through the silence like a knife.

Her mind raced as she struggled to find the right words to say. How could she explain the depths of her pain, the scars that her past had left upon her soul? How could she make him understand the tangled web of emotions that had kept her trapped in the shadow of her own memories? But before she could formulate a response, Manjiro's thumb brushed against her cheekbone, his touch both intimate and unsettling. She felt a surge of vulnerability wash over her, a raw honesty that threatened to shatter the carefully constructed walls she had built around her heart. "I... I don't know," She finally whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I'm sorry..." 

Manjiro's grip on her cheek tightened, his touch both gentle and commanding. He held her gaze with an intensity that made her feel as though he could see straight through to her soul. "Sorry doesn't change the past," he murmured, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room.

She felt a knot form in her stomach at his words, a familiar sense of guilt and inadequacy washing over her. She had spent years trying to bury the pain of her past, to escape the memories that haunted her every waking moment. But now, confronted with Manjiro's unwavering gaze, she couldn't help but feel as though she had failed him in some fundamental way. "I know…" she replied softly, her voice barely audible above the sound of her own heartbeat.

Manjiro's thumb traced a slow, soothing pattern against her cheekbone, his touch a silent reassurance amidst the storm of emotions raging within her. Finally, after a long moment of silence, he speaks up “Fall in love again…”

His words are unexpected but she also makes no move to pull back from him. “Is that an order, Mr. Sano?”

Finally, Manjiro smiles. It’s genuine. Or at least it seems genuine. “Yes. Yes it is”

“Did you call the clean-up crew?” Ran asks Koko who’s cleaning the blood of his shoes

Koko nods wordlessly, a look of annoyance on his face as he had just bought these damn shoes yesterday. “Let’s go back up” Takeomi says as he lights a cigarette, stepping over a dead body of one of the businessmen

“Maybe not” Kakucho interjects as his eyes are on his phone, cheeks a little flushed

He shoves it into his pocket and shakes his head at his fellow colleagues. For a moment they’re silent until— “fuckin’ hell” Mochi grumbles as he transfers 10 thousand into Ran’s account

“See I fuckin’ told you he’d fuck her” Ran says with a shrug, eyes lighting up at the notification on his phone signalling the transfer had been made and completed

Their conversation is cut out with a loud scream as Sanzu stabs his katana through her ex’s chest. They look towards him and the pink-haired male simply shrugs. 

#tokyo revengers #mikey sano #sano mikey manjiro #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers fandom #sano manjiro #bonten mikey #bonten future timeline #manjiro sano #tokyo manji gang #bonten #bonten!mikey

[weirdmageddon]

ur davejade posting has me Remembering and goddddd. theyre so good. thank u

i want to make a davejade analysis masterpost but the funniest thing with these asks is that theyre the ones that really prompt me to put my thoughts together in some direction and i ALWAYS find a new implication or connection to talk about. like while i’m writing the connections will just make themselves known. if i made a masterpost i’d have to update it every time i think of something new which defeats the purpose of a masterpost because it’d never be finished. so i just like to spitball into separate posts and just shove them in my davejade tag. i was NOT expecting to get back into homestuck with davejade at the forefront but i can see things now i didnt then

im gonna go off again because it’s so obvious to me on this jumpy scrambled “reread” that dave has a fat fucking heart-on / affection erection for jade. hes tryin soo hard to be cool but hes like this with jade actually behind the screen and she knows it

words and deeds of a court jester dude who totally has a crush on his childhood internet friend and doesnt acknowledge it (btw this is woefully incomplete for the sake of brevity but i could elaborate in another post. i actually have a draft (edit: posted) with a shit ton of more analysis stuff in it on why he acts differently with her than other characters):

the next day (chronologically) when jade messages him:

hussie commentary: “Dave's one-pixel-smile there means that there are literally more than ten thousand drawings on the internet of Dave and Jade kissing. That pixel literally made that happen.”

i mean … it sure is easy to assume how he feels about jade based on the way he talks to her and when his sprite only ever smiles one other time in the entire fucking comic and the reality of that other one was arguable since it was during [S] Karkat: Mental breakdown and its likely karkat was hallucinating it based on the content and context of the flash

nah this one was real. and it was from the first conversation we saw between dave and jade in the comic and thus set the standard for their dynamic. and remember old school 2009 dave was kind of a menace so it says a lot

this girl was special enough to him to warrant that pixel

jade calling dave a “huge baby” for him getting nervous about a piss while she’s his server player. he makes such a big deal about it while shes like oh my god just go:

and the absurdity of the situation being one of his favorite memories

i know pesterquest isn’t “canon” canon but it passes my character essence check and still contributes something of substance to my argument. like i can say this is not at all out of place if these characters were plopped into these scenarios. remember this takes place on the same day as the above, 4/13/2009. theyre the same age as above and have the same relationship as they did above, just in a different scenario that wasn’t possible in canon wherein they didn’t play sburb

Jade wanders away from that window and toward another one, whose view is exclusively centered on the rolling blue. She presses a hand against the misty pane and sighs. JADE: you know, dave talks a lot about coming to visit me here. i mean, all of my friends do but dave especially JADE: in his usual davey way of course, which means making lots of jokes and not sounding very serious about it JADE: "yeah im itching to put on my safari hat and come traipsing down to doomdeath archipelago to get my ass murdered by infinidog the eldritch retriever," stuff like that JADE: i know he really means it though! he wants to see me, just like i want to see him JADE: but its just wishful thinking

anyway daves reaction to seeing his isolated online friend for the first time irl cry because she has guests. its even better with the character sprites

JADE: we can play with all my toys and jam out to some music and stay up all night chatting with each other and oh my god oh my god youre here youre all here this is really happening!!!!! Jade's next laugh verges on hysterical and she's got tears streaked down her cheeks. Dave looks a little perturbed. DAVE: wow holy shit uh DAVE: its cool jade no need to get so DAVE: like this DAVE: kind of fucks me up seeing you cry DAVE: not that im trying to make this all about me DAVE: i mean uh

and so after mspa reader’s intervention, who do we see with jade the next time we see her?

dave. and hes goofing with her squiddles while grinning

DAVE: okay so lets see what we got here Jade's room is bright and cheery, fresh flowers in the hanging pots, curtains pulled open wide to let in the afternoon sunlight. Jade sits on her bed while Dave paces in front of a line of squiddle toys, carefully assembled in neat ranks. DAVE: this blue one is clearly in charge look at his dominant posture DAVE: also hes the only motherfucker not tentacle deep in his homie DAVE: hes an untangled buddy that is some shit really cuts to the core of like DAVE: DAVE: emotions JADE: its actually because the magnets in him are messed up, and always have been!! DAVE: harley you are ruining the magic come on

basically what im putting together is that dave was REALLY fixin to spend some time with jade. extending into her sphere of interests that he doesnt express much with anyone else; you can tell he really wanted to engage with her in a less irony poisoned way. he’s softer with her than his other friends and god forbid the trolls, he is much less skeptical about things when talking to her (he even questions why he just seems to go along with her eccentric precognitive statements but he doesnt change his attitude about it), he showers her with his music and raps to the point where jade is expectant of getting poetry from him. rap IS poetry. please realize that dave is sending her his poetry, regardless of how goofy it may be. this is the level on which im viewing this at and once you realize this theres no going back. there comes a time in every homestuck’s life where they have to see how dave interacted jade and conclude that he had a cute little puppy crush on her unbeknownst to either of them. and it was adorable. and now, in the year 2023, it’s your time to realize this too. no going back.

and btw it all came back around…………………nimblest son of a bitch who had the gumption to glue a nasty pair of latex cat lips to his face

for a reason that wasnt a joke anymore

don’t think ive seen anyone talk about this parallel at the end to one of their first conversations in the comic. maybe somebody did back in the day but i never saw it

#davejade #homestuck #dave strider #jade harley #hs

[kneelingshadowsalome]

So~ Arab!Reader has been living in my head and heart for a while now so I wanna share some Reader-isms that are closer to my own cultural experience (ignore this if it's annoying btw no hard feelings whatsoever)

-Her love language is arguing, has not met a hill she wouldn't die on. will sometimes get on the table or ask him to crouch down so they can look eye to eye as she fights tooth and nail over something she stopped caring about like 10 minutes ago but she's having too much fun. calls him "your majesty" or Sultan/Sheikh sarcastically in every argument.

-He told her to just buy candles instead of burning incense that produces so much smoke since "they do the same job anyway", she reacted like he just insulted her ancestors.

-Not a drinker but has a minor coffee/tea addiction, knows every cafe nearby by heart and has a whole set up at home, loves making him try new drinks she found online or from her childhood.

-Will take a million pictures of everything and especially him, doesn't matter what's happening, it must be recorded "for our grandbabies, habibi🥺"

-Desert camping trips!! König can start the fire while she's in charge of preparing tea and coffee. she's mostly excited about finding a dune buggy to rent for a day that's actually comfortable for his size, they ride until sunset when both of them are a sand covered giggling mess. finally they get to cuddle and star gaze, keeping each other safe from the cold desert nights.

-if they ever get married this is an inevitable conversation:

"Liebe, you said we are having a small wedding"

"Mhm"

"the guest list is 600 people minimum..?"

"...yes?"

poor guy, his saving grace is that men have a very small role in weddings here, just sit, take pictures, cut cake, then leave with your bride. no need to write vows, dance, or even kiss in front of people.

-NO PDA!! hand holding is the most they do in public and even that's scandalous sometimes. he tried to kiss her hand in a shop once and she pulled it back so fast he was pouty for like two days after the fact. He learns to appreciate this though because he can clearly tell when she's feeling possessive in public when she clings to his side, loves to tease her about it; "a hand on my lower back, schatz? how indecent of you"

-Cat-calls him as he's going out of the shower but only in Arabic, so he doesn't know how to respond to the wolf-whistles and enthusiastic yelling, the only reason he's sure it's positive is that he gets his face squished soon after, he can at least make out the stretched out word 'Habiiiibiiiiiiii~" Cue flustered mess König

-calls him her Antara, one of the most famous and celebrated warriors in Arabian history, who was also a great romantic and wrote so many poems about his beloved Abla. (Antara Ibn Shaddad, if anyone is curious)

Oh god I'm going feral I’m not even kidding ❤️‍🔥💀

The arguing thing would get soooo interesting because I think that König has an anxious/disorganized attachment style so he’d try to avoid any kind of arguments and disagreements with his woman. If König can’t tame his darling, he’ll just let her have her way so that he doesn't have to suffer from the sudden tightness in his chest.

But... If she’s doing shit like climbing on the table to stare him down, König wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. He'd soon relax into the situation and then start to tease her about her temper. Corrects his posture so that he's still taller than her, and gives her a warm, knowing smile :) His Liebling is so cute when she's angry.

And lol König would be suspicious about the incense, he’s not used to that kind of stuff at all, but he’ll be damned before he says anything. Discreetly tries to open the window sometimes but closes it immediately if darling walks into the room (no use, she already saw him and he's going to get an earful).

But omg no pda??? Very hard for König but he will respect your wishes in this. You can see it in his eyes that he’s being a bit of a sad sulking puppy about it, of course it all dissipates if you put that hand on his lower back... This will be like foreplay to him, you're a forbidden fruit until you two are behind closed doors, and if you “break the rules” while he’s playing nice then whoo. Prepare to get your guts rearranged when you get home!

Still, if König can’t kiss his bride at the wedding he’ll start a war. 600 guests is negotiable, as long as he can kiss her in front of everyone and declare her as his own.

#oh and the Antara part and the desert camping trip have me howling at the moon #longingly #I'M YEARNING #answered

[kubrickscube]

Life as a Pisces Rising

I saw this post by crystalsenergy explaining the houses of each rising sign in full detail. I thought of making my own version of this but since the post follows Hellenistic astrology, I'll just put my own experience living as one.

I'll base everything that I put here on crystalsenergy's post. So I suggest that you read the linked post first before reading mine. Also, I will be talking about my natal chart (placements, aspects, and whatnot), which means most of the stuff written here will most likely not resonate with you (it might if you're a pisces rising as well).

This is the closest that you can get in regard to my natal chart.

Ascendant in Pisces - my other half and I went on vacation last week (I started this in April btw, and I'm now posting this in June LMAO), and every tour guide that we had would always happily converse with me when the other guests are enjoying themselves. Of course, it is their job to entertain tourists, but a tour guide opened up to me about a previous tourist who humiliated her for the reason the tourists did it themselves.

Aries in the 2nd House - my clothes and the way I look speak for me about how I feel every day. I never look at brands or the price of every item that I purchase, as long as I like it, I must have it. I agree with the impulsive part, but I also know when to stop spending and start saving my resources.

Taurus in the 3rd House - when faced with someone I dislike, I'm great with spewing bullshit. People had to wait 10 seconds before they hear me answer their questions. I am a slow talker, I admit. I'm also a visual learner, it just makes sense to see what you have to do before you do it yourself.

Gemini in the 4th House - my parents would always say to me that I have to adapt to my surroundings, and I've followed that advice ever since. I found out that my mind would change quickly when it comes to decisions and opinions, not so much on the emotional side.

Cancer in the 5th House - children stick to me, no matter if they only just met me today, to the point where they try and imitate what I'm doing. When drinking, I would also become the mom of the group; no matter how drunk I am I will make sure they get to their homes safe and sound.

Leo in the 6th House - you're damn right if you think that I take pride in my work when it comes to the corporate world. I take great offense when someone tells me my work isn't up to standard when I know I've been busting my ass for 10 hours straight. Please don't let your jobs overwork you, I only do this thing just so I can take my sweet sweet vacation after.

Virgo in the 7th House - 70% of my friends are Virgos. No matter where I go, I would always end up meeting a Virgo. I like being with the mutable swiffers, even though the conversations that I would always have with them would consist of roasting whatever the other is doing.

Libra in the 8th House - as much as I hate people being nosy when it comes to my financial matters, I sometimes take their advice just so I don't spend it on a day.

Scorpio in the 9th House - I'd say this part caused me too many ego deaths in one lifetime. I can also safely say that I hate people who do not share the same belief that I have. I won't force my views on them, but I won't get into theirs either.

Sagittarius in the 10th House: I dreamt of becoming an archaeologist when I was young. I still do. The fact that some people get to excavate some shit and discover key points in our history makes me furious and jealous. I would give up my book collection just so I can go on one of their expeditions.

Capricorn in the 11th House: The only time that I ever cut off long-time friends was when I was going through my second 12th profection year. Only one person that I consider my friend knows my birth date and has met my family. I may be welcoming, but you wouldn't know what my favorite color is or my favorite dish.

Aquarius in the 12th House: It might be my Sun in Aries talking, but nothing good happens if you let your current predicament drag you down, might as well take it in stride. I know my emotions, I know what I believe in, and I know that there's still a lot to learn in life.

I compared my life experiences with two other Pisces rising. The first one told me that while he opened up quickly, he found it easy to open up to those older than him compared to those around his age range. And while he's fine with other people knowing how much he makes, he absolutely hates it when someone tries to ask for something that he owns, even touching it despite telling that person no would send him into a furious rage.

The second one, while we have similar experiences with Gemini in the 4th, majority of their childhood consisted of living with their extended family, making them close to their family. And while I like to travel for knowledge, they are content in staying here in the country, although I noticed that the career they took was focused on introducing our culture to foreigners (no, I do not know as I forgot the specific name for it).

Thank you for taking the time to read this! Comments are welcomed here in this household, though I may not be able to reply immediately.... because.... reasons... Nah, I started to play Stardew Valley and I am i m m e r s e d. Team Harvey all the way!

#astro #astro notes #astrology observations #Pisces ascendant #pisces rising #aries in the 2nd house #taurus in the 3rd house #gemini in the 4th house #cancer in the 5th house #leo in the 6th house #virgo in the 7th house #libra in the 8th house #scorpio in the 9th house #sagittarius in the 10th house #capricorn in the 11th house #aquarius in the 12th house

[holewithinahole]

The Spirit's in It | Egon Spengler x nb!reader [1/3]

Summary: “I didn’t know psychology doctors also specialized in particle physics, is all.”

What you meant as a light joke to relax him did quite the opposite. He straightens, righting up his glasses one more pointless time. “I have a degree in nuclear engineering,” he states before walking out, leaving you confused and feeling like you’ve spent the entire time offending him unintentionally.

Warnings: dubious science, non-native writer, non-beta'd

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Ao3 Link

Woopsies, I'm back to plaster my insecurities on fictional characters. This work is part of a two-part series which follows the events of the Ghostbusters primary canon. The first part, set during the first movie, will be cut in 3 smaller bits for Tumblr. When all parts will be posted, I'll upload it on Ao3. The parts are all written, so it'll be released soon enough.

I just want to do a little disclaimer. Usually my 'reader' characters are very loosely characterized so anyone can project on them. However, this reader might not fit everyone? I'm sorry about that. Overall, if you're autistic, on the aro/ace spectrum or just a tiny bit ND, you might feel more connection to the reader lmao.

Ah! Also, the science sucks, pls ignore. It can be read as a prequel to It's always the quiet ones, btw.

Summer, 1984

This is a good song, you think, the beat intense enough to distract the back of your brain as you write down the last advancements of your research. You’ve spent the entire month of July reading books and other scientists’ papers, but not managing – until now – to sit down and order the large number of notes you piled up. Running on the pure energy of your hyper-focused state, a dozen cups of coffee and a single chocolate bar, you definitely didn’t notice the man stepping into your lab, not until you randomly glanced up and met the disconcerted gaze of an unknown guest.

“Excuse me?” he mouths out.

You straighten in your chair so quickly your back snap.

“Ah! Yes! Sorry, what is it?” you stammer, taking out your headphones with shaky hands and fumbling with your Walkman.

The man stands at the entrance of the lab, strangely stiff, seemingly assessing his next course of action before taking exactly four steps toward your desk.

“I would like to borrow a soldering iron.” He rights his glasses up his long nose.

The first thing you take note of is the low modulation of his voice; an unusual pitch that seems to vibrate directly out of his chest. The second is his wide, rigid build. From your chair, he towers over you, and your neck is starting to hurt from stretching uncomfortably (it might just be your overall terrible posture.)

You’ve been staring a little too long so you clear your throat and get up. “And you are? Not that I’m unwilling to lend you a soldering iron but I can’t just give my tools to strangers–”

“Dr. Spengler, I work at the psychology pole of this university,” he interrupts.

He looks at you like you’ve got a stain right in the middle of your forehead. You glance away.

“Psychology? What do you intend to solder? A loose neuron?” You stand up, cracking up a joke nervously.

“I assure you I don’t conduct any dangerous experiments on unwilling subjects.”

Despite the tension, it’s the ‘unwilling’ that does it for you and you let out a chuckle. Finally meeting his eyes, the light frown he adorns is either one of incomprehension or irritation, making you drop the smile immediately.

“Uh–” you croak out before you decide better not to say anything. You both end up looking awkwardly at each other, and time seems to be stretching to amplify your discomfort – and probably his as well. It feels like orbiting a black hole while he’s rushing through the universe at 18.5 miles a second.

Smart enough to be a researcher, stupid enough to ruin a simple conversation.

Fingers fidgety, you walk away to rummage through your closets, taking out the tool and handing it to him. “I do intend to have it back soon, Dr. Spengler.”

There’s a slight hesitation in his hand before he takes it, nodding curtly. In your defense, you do try to smile, even if it’s an uptight, embarrassing attempt. Oddly enough, he doesn’t leave, staring at the iron for a couple of seconds.

Abruptly, he clears his throat, looking intently at your face. “I’m improving a prototype that detects the presence of paranormal entities and directs me to them using a boron-trifluoride counter tube and a platinum electrode.” He doesn’t even take a breath. “A component of the rate meter I installed seems to be defective, and the cable of my soldering iron broke while I was working.”

He comes to a sudden stop, mouth half-opened but doesn’t resume his explanation. At a loss on how to react –and surely gaping at him considering you weren’t expecting to be slapped across the face by a presentation on neutron detectors, you whisper a small: “I see.”

A nervous twitch at the corner of his mouth makes your stomach drop.

“Uh, I mean; you can borrow mine!” You let out a tiny laugh. “I didn’t know psychology doctors also specialized in particle physics, is all.”

What you meant as a light joke to relax him did quite the opposite. He straightens, righting up his glasses one more pointless time. “I have a degree in nuclear engineering,” he states before walking out, leaving you confused and feeling like you’ve spent the entire time offending him unintentionally.

Ground control to Major Tom, your circuit’s dead, there’s something wrong, screams your forgotten Walkman.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dr. Spengler didn’t come back to your lab after your disastrous first meeting. He did return the iron, though. You simply found it on your desk one morning at seven o'clock, electric cable neatly wrapped around the handle.

You were secretly hoping for the doctor to come back to your lab to hand the iron back, so you could have apologized and asked more about his work, about his degrees… anything really. You had planned the interaction at least thirty times, going through a series of ice-breaking sentences that all relied on the fact that he would be back. He had preferred to avoid you, which couldn’t compel you to go see him yourself. Clearly, you had left a bad impression, and anxiety wouldn’t let you go look for him to apologize.

In the meantime, intrigued by his academic history, you started going through published papers by Dr. Egon – you quickly learned – Spengler. And if you thought you couldn’t get more curious about this mystery of a man, you browsing through numerous seemingly random articles – like ‘Quantum tunneling in anastomosis formations and nuclear exchanges’ – made you raise many eyebrows. Your fascination reached new heights with his brilliant article on ionizing radiation, written in M.I.T. no less. Egon Spengler had become the person you wished to chat with the most yet the most inaccessible.

You can think of a million questions to ask him, a million conversations to have. Why ionizing radiations? Did he have an interest in cosmic particles? Were his studies on gamma radiation related to his microbiology degree? How did he end up working in the psychology aisle of Columbia? Could ectoplasms really be quantified as a network of negatively charged particles?

Your life became filled with thoughts of the doctor, so you blamed it all on professional curiosity and you pushed yourself back into your work. Labs have been deserted by most researchers, preferring to treat themselves to a well-earned vacation. Nothing you can’t agree with in essence but previously attempted vacations had instilled a strong feeling of dread in you: you showed yourself incapable of not visualizing the amount of unfinished work. It’s not as bad as it sounds, really, to be work-obsessed; you love your work. Summer in Columbia is peaceful, solitary but also desperately unstimulating. Researching alone is undoubtedly slower, especially in your field, and knowing there’s an ideal candidate for some great brainstorming a few buildings away is nerve-wracking.

After an entire month going by with no new interaction with Dr. Spengler – not even sighting him at the corner of a corridor, the awkwardness that made him run away fuels your guilt. However, the opportunity of meeting again with Dr. Spengler comes unexpectedly. It comes with a mandatory meeting with the dean of the academy.

“You’ve been summoned as well, uh?”

You snap out of your social distancing trance. “Sorry?”

Next to you stands another professor with an easygoing smile and a relaxed stance. “Dean Yaeger. He likes to summon us like he’s royalty,” he jokes followed by a low staccato of a laugh.

“Oh,” you pointlessly say. “Yeah, he tends to do that.”

He offers his hand, showing another pearly-white-toothed smile. “I’m Dr. Ray Stantz, department of psychology.”

You offer your name back as you shake his hand. “Department of Physics.”

“Neat.” Dr. Stantz grins. “You should drop by our aisle sometimes. Spengs has a degree in physics; I’m sure you’ll get along well.”

“Who?”

“Dr. Egon Spengler, my colleague and friend.”

“Oh.” How you despise idle chatting. “I know him. He came to my lab to borrow a soldering iron about a month ago.”

“Venkman – our other colleague, forced him to go ask; he was so grumpy after being stopped in the middle of his experiment.” Dr. Stantz sure does enjoy making conversation. “He returned it, right?”

You have the impression he already knows the answer. “Yes, he did.”

“What field of physics do you specialize in by the way?” he asks excitedly. You have to say his jolly attitude is endearing, slowly getting you more at ease.

“High-energy physics.”

“That’s amazing, man. ‘actually wish I knew more about it. You should definitely swing by our lab soon. You can take a look at what we’ve–”

“Ah. Dr. Stantz.” Dean Yeager has the most distasteful expression on his face. “You may come in.”

Dr. Stantz gives you an apologetic look as Yaeger nods at you. You remain standing in front of the door, anxiety spiking up. Now you have no other choice than to go, or it’ll be rude, right?

Shit.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It took you more than a week of conditioning to get your ass moving, leading you, once more, in front of a closed door. You have to say, this part of the psychology department is far from what you’ve imagined. You wonder what Dr. Stantz, Dr. Venkman, and Dr. Spengler did to offend Dean Yaeger to the point of being located in the university equivalent of a demilitarized zone. No wonder they need to borrow equipment from the physics department. The bright red ‘Burn in hell Venkman’ tagged on the door isn’t the most welcoming sight either.

You reluctantly raise your hand and knock four times. The shuffling you hear inside almost makes you run away. But thankfully – or miserably you’re still unsure about that one, an unknown man opens the door. Dr. Venkman, you guess.

A lazy smile stretches on his face. “Can I help you?” There’s a low edge to his voice, something that’s intended and practiced.

You try not to come out as too appalled. “I’m looking for Dr. Spengler.”

Dr. Venkman raises an eyebrow, and you immediately chastise yourself. At that moment, you see Dr. Spengler popping his head behind him and you lose your train of thought… and your words. “Uh, Dr. Stantz told me to–”

Dr. Venkman opens his eyes almost comically wide, pivoting slowly between Dr. Spengler and yourself. “Aaal-right. You know what; I have to meet up with Veronica of the literature department so– I’ll leave you guys to it.” He claps obnoxiously on his friend’s shoulder before departing, sliding past you while whistling some tune.

You watch him go, slightly distracted when Dr. Spengler grabs your attention again. “Dr. Stantz isn’t here today.”

“Ah, I see…” No wait–

“He’ll be here tomorrow at 8 am.” He angles his body towards the inside of the room like he’s wanting to go back to what he was previously doing.

“Actually,” you force out, heart at the edge of your lips. “I wanted to apologize to you.”

Only the small widening of his eyes behind his frames indicates his surprise because his voice remains soft-spoken. “Apologize for?”

Better to be honest than invent a stupid excuse he’ll probably spot immediately. “Yes, I clearly made you uncomfortable last time. I was only trying to idle-chat, but I’m terrible at it.”

“What makes you think you made me uncomfortable?” Dr. Spengler asks.

A few seconds pass. “…because I went out of my way by questioning whether or not you had the knowledge to speak about particle physics?”

“Did you?” You realize he’s probably genuinely asking, not as a way to rile you up but as a way to understand. Somehow, it calms your nerves. Just a little.

“No,” you say. “I’m sorry… you just looked upset when you left.”

He faces you completely this time, taking his time to answer. “Then I’m the one apologizing. I was grateful for your help, but I failed to show it.”

Some part of you wonders if it’s entirely true. You brush it off. “It’s alright. I guess we’re not good at understanding social cues, uh?”

He seems to be pondering something. “I’ve been told that before.”

You chuckle. There’s a tension off his shoulders, and you thank Dr. Stantz internally.

“I’m actually working on a prototype of particle thrower. Your input would be appreciated.”

“A what?!”

#egon spengler x reader #egon spengler #ghostbusters imagine #ghostbusters #ghostbusters reader insert #non binary reader

[spaceorphan18]

Your segment of the podcast was wonderful! Honestly I got emotional. I’m so glad they talked to you.

SNARKY!!?! I'm so glad you listened and got emotional. Did you catch my shout out to you? ;)

If you don't mind, I'm going to just give some little tidbits about doing the zoom call with Kevin and Jenna

There was no intro with me. The only person I talked to before the call was the producer and that was through email. I had no idea what to expect, and I was really nervous going in. I made a few small notes of things I'd like have said, and I think most everything got covered.

I didn't think it was real until Kevin and Jenna popped on screen.

I was a little shocked when Kevin was so enthusiastic about me A) being an OG glee fan and B) about my real job.

I was taken aback, a little, by how very good looking Kevin was.

(I tried to look nice - but I looked ultimately like me and not like someone who has a lot of money, lol)

The conversation felt mostly like it was me and Kevin, who seemed to be driving it. I had to remind myself to look at Jenna as I talked, too.

(I'll talk more about Jenna later in another post)

I tried to be polite and professional. As the convo went on, it felt really easy to do the conversation. It felt both longer and shorter than I expected.

Funny thing about when I started writing fanfic -- I lied a little, but I didn't want to go into the biggest reason that I was held back so long from writing fanfic is due to my severe social anxiety and the scariness of the glee fandom. But I felt like that was too complex to get into.

Also did you notice Kevin's insulation that I started writing after the show started getting bad after season 3? After the convo was over -- I was really bummed I didn't defend the later seasons in that moment.

I felt really bad when I said fanfic isn't for you, and I hope my reasoning was clear. They seemed to be understanding, though?

Kevin just beamed when I brought up that I wrote Office fanfic. Btw, I COMPLETELY forgot that he was on an episode of Office while doing the interview.

There was one point that I thought, maybe, Jenna had snapped with me -- and it was when she mentioned that they were fans of things, too. Mom (who told me she noticed Jenna's oddness and apathy) said she didn't notice that moment, so it may have been just me.

(Mom did say that I should not have said Kurt was my favorite character - but I reminded her that she already knew since the producer had already asked me that as a vetting question)

I was a little surprised when they didn't ask me about my favorites like they did with a lot of the other fan guests they have. I did mention Kurt in the episode. But I was a little bummed I didn't get to do the usual. (Apparently, they didn't with the first woman either?)

The ending was super, super awkward, and I believe, the only point that was edited. At the very end - Kevin asked for my goodreads account. I was so stunned that all I could say was that it was my full name. I kind of wonder (now) if he was trying to get me to plug some kind of social media? Anyway, the producer jumped in and said she'd get him the info.

It kind of then ended abruptly, as they were saying goodbye. They shut down and the Kevin popped on again to say goodbye again. I could also hear Jenna going straight into asking about what they were doing next.

Fwiw - Kevin never did slide into my Goodreads DMs, which is fine. I didn't really expect him too.

The producer then sent me a message a half hour later saying that Kevin and Jenna 'genuinely' liked talking to me and that I was an awesome guest. (and that she'd be in touch).

I really liked how the conversation went (mostly) but afterwards, I was kind of bummed that that was it. I have so much more I wanted to say --- and there was a part of me that kind of wanted to speak up about a lot of things that we always talk about here. But I'm glad I didn't get off topic, and that I did have a professional, honest, and hopefully education conversation about fanfic.

Fwiw - the producer sent me one last message letting me know that the podcast had aired. I did send a thank you email back, but have not yet heard a response -- so I'm guessing that is that.

I am grateful for the experience. Everyone has been so lovely about it, and people even in my real life have had a lot of good things to say. I suppose it's my little fifteen minutes of fame.

I hope people listening got something out of it, too. I haven't listened to it myself - but I just feel awkward about it, and don't really want to.

It does make me want to podcast again, though, and really dig into all the things that Kevin and Jenna don't get into. Maybe someday I can talk Snarky into another podcast when we both have time.

Thanks dear for supporting me and helping me. <3

[taegularities]

Rid I don’t know if I’m late ! But can I request a drabble where CMI JK gets jealous? Maybe some guy starts shamelessly flirting with her while they’re out somewhere?

Btw loved cmi6 it made me feel all the feelings and now I’m too excited and nervous cmi7 🥺🥺

fic: colour me in

pairing: jungkook x reader

warnings: nothing really; insecurities, jealousy, a healthy relationship, such a soft soft convo, taemin guest appearance, still totally not in love or whuteva

wc: around 910

a/n: you're not late at all! feel free to keep sending stuff. closing drabble requests, though, so spam me with question if you'd like 🥺 lemme know what you think! and ahhh, i'm so happy you liked cmi6... and gosh, i truly cannot wait for cmi7.. it'll be a ride and a half :') thank you, sweetheart 🤍 (unedited!)

ask my characters! (drabble requests closed) <3

–

When Jungkook steps out of the bakery, snacks and beverages in his hands, he pauses for just a moment. It was easy to escape the cashier's conversation. Easy to soothe the worries she'd fallen into it.

What's not so easy is watching that stranger so close to you, sitting on the bench, laughing at whatever you're saying.

Jungkook isn't necessarily the jealous type – as long as the debate doesn't shift to damn perilla leaves or you don’t end up naked in someone else's bed, there's not all that much that will drive him up the wall.

But tonight is reserved for the two of you. Any other disturbance has no place here.

So he shakes his head, clicking his tongue, scoffs as he steps next to you slowly.

When you notice, your laughter pauses, and you look between the men before you enthusiastically introduce, "Ah, Kook! This is Taemin. Just found out he went to the same college as we did."

"Really?" Jungkook questions, squinting his eyes. "Never seen you there."

"I graduated years ago," Taemin says with a tender smile; sweet enough to melt angels' hearts.

"Ah. How old are you?"

"Twenty-nine. Why?"

"Just asking."

"Uhm, in any case," you say, getting on your feet. You don't think Taemin's anyhow harmful; but the animosity between them is palpable. Or at least from Jungkook's side. "This is my boyfriend Jungkook."

You laugh nervously, and then add, "Was nice to meet you. We'll be going then."

"It was nice talking to you, too," Taemin says softly, unbothered as hell; the opposite of Jungkook whose irritation swims to the forefront of his eyes.

Only when you've left his periphery and you've linked your arm with Jungkook, do you realise just how much the picture of Taemin and you annoyed him.

Stoic silence accompanies you for half a mile, no matter how many times you thank him for the food, or compliment the town, or crack a horrible joke.

And then, you break.

"Are you mad at me?"

He shakes his head. "No. I'm not mad at you."

"But you're mad."

"I... no, it's fine."

"But," you start, tapping his knuckles, "your fists are pretty firm. And your jaw is clenched."

"I'm fine, angel."

“I don’t care about Taemin, by the way.”

“Okay. He’s too old for you anyway,” he suddenly says.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

You argue, “You said you’re fine.” 

“Yeah. I’m honestly okay.”

"Or jealous." He grants you one ominous glance, and you widen your eyes, immediately defending, "I'm just saying. You don't have a reason to be jelly, though."

"Why's that?"

"Because," you start, halting your steps. You look into his eyes, and smile with a slightly tilted head. "I'm yours. I told you and... I meant it."

You're not sure where your courage is coming from. Day and night, you question his feelings, constantly wondering what he might be thinking of you. Or how often you occupy his mind at all.

That you're soothing his worries now, vowing your undying loyalty to him is a bigger step than you realise.

But it does the trick. The crease between his eyebrows relaxes. He blinks at you.

"It's not... you're not who I'm mad at," he admits, "that was true. I'm more pissed at myself for overthinking, you know? Now I know how you felt when we spoke about Nara... The ache in your eyes, I could see it."

You're taken aback – not quite expecting for him to mention that day. Or Nara. Or to feel anyhow similarly to how you hurt back then.

But you don't understand.

"But it was just a guy from college," you assure.

"That's not the problem, really... I just. Do you–" He licks his lips, chuckling about his own idiocy. "Do you ever talk to other men and think how easy life could be with them? Like Seokjin. Do you ever feel like it would've been easier with him?"

"What's it?"

"Just. Life. Love. Your future."

Crazy.

To hear him voice his worries like that.

He's right... it feels like the conversation weeks ago. Back then, you wondered whether a childhood friend like Nara could've been the easier choice. How you could compete against her.

"No," you tell him firmly, placing a hand under his ear, "do you? Like, ever regret being with me like that."

"No." His answer comes just as fast – but he still looks conflicted. "Never. But it scares me to see you laughing with someone else. Not because I doubt where your heart lies, but... 'cause I want to feel right for you."

Your heart pounds in your chest. He's never talked about whatever lingers between you so blatantly. It feels like a breakthrough moment.

"Is that why we're both here? You want to feel like you're right for me. Or... want to confirm that you're enough to make me happy."

"I..." He waits. Looks at you so softly, it hurts. "It's not just that. Tonight belongs to us. Tonight wasn't supposed to be about Taemin, or any other man I deem a better fit for you."

"It still belongs to us," you tell him, moving closer. "Taemin, or Nara... none of them matter, Jungkook."

He doesn't speak.

You look down to his hand, tangling your fingers.

Move your eyes back to him slowly, eyebrows raised in question. He opens his mouth, nervous and blinking. When he doesn’t speak, you ask, “Jungkook?”

“I need to tell you something.”

– and you know the rest... 💕

#this is an alternate reality to when he came out of the coffeeshop in cmi6 <3 #wrote this drabble in its entirety bc i love them so much <33 #*amc #*amc: cmi #notes for rid 🌹 #anon #fic: colour me in #jungkook fluff #bts fluff

[mothrite]

Dating Vance Hopper HCS (AU VER)

This is what it’s like dating Vance Hopper in my Ultim Hawkins AU (AKA an AU that’s just a whole bunch of AUs stuck together [plus OCs])

Warnings: None!<3

AN: Not proof read!! Was this an excuse to write about my AU? Oh yes absolutely. Will I regret it? NEVER. Don’t be afraid to send in a request! I don’t really have much to write so I can do more AU headcanons for like Robin or something

To start with, Vance has A-LOT of siblings.

Though he only grew up with his older sister and sadly had to watch as their younger sister passed, he now has two more sisters and three more brothers

If you decide to spend the day at his house expect ZERO privacy from Roxy barging in to ask for cash to Will gently knocking on the door asking to borrow some pencils for him and El

You two barely get a moment alone

I can also imagine one day Roxy invites you over for a family dinner and Vance is begging you not to go, but you go anyways cause you’re curious to see what’s it like when all his family is together

Btw his family consists of his father Jim Hopper and his step-mother Joyce Byers. His siblings are Leo, Valerie, Jonathan and Will Byers and Roxanne and Jane Hopper :) [Jane is adopted]

When you finally sit down it’s utter chaos

Will and El are gossiping about kids at their school and judging them

Roxy and Leo look like their about to get into a fist fight (Which Jim is betting 10 bucks Roxy’ll win)

And Joyce is talking to Valerie trying to figure out what Jonathan and Argyle’s relationship is

Needless to say you just end up eating and listening to the different conversations with your hand intertwined with Vance’s, hidden under the table

And if you’re lucky some other guests will be there! Like Murray and his daughter Noelle, Jonathan’s partners Argyle and Nancy, Will’s boyfriends Lucas and Mike, El’s girlfriend Max, Valerie’s friend Bonnie and Jim’s friend Dmitri

Luckily Joyce threatened to take Lonnie to court for mental and physical abuse towards the kids so she got enough cash to buy a big enough house for her seven children

I’d like to imagine that Jonathan brings you two places and will always remind Vance to stay safe and stay with you at all times due to the situation that happened when Vance was in Denver with his birth mom

Joyce is the best mom ever, she supports you two sm and absolutely adores you. Vance loves her more then his birth mother and it shows.

Roxy is also super cool and will dye your hair if you ask since she did her own

It’s 100% canon in this AU that Vance is a punk metal head. You can and will be forced to listen to that kind of music, but if he’s feeling nicer then usual then he’ll let you put on what you like.

Vance most likely struggles in some subjects so you’d offer to help him study, and when you get to his place and tell Joyce she just nods her head like “ya sure. Study.”

But she’s pleasantly surprised when she walks past Vance’s open door to see you and him sitting at his desk with you explaining different aspects that go into solving a two step equation for math

Before you and Vance started dating, Will and El would be with you in their living room watching some program and Vance leaves to go grab some drinks from the fridge when El turns to you and says

“You know Vance has been talking about you ALOT lately. I think he might like you.”

And as your face is turning red Will is interjecting “YOU MEAN THEY AREN’T DATING? Shit. I owe Max 10 bucks now.”

Once Vance gets back he’s confused as he sits down next to you who’s face us flushed scarlet and El who’s mouth is painted with a smug smile

Cat person. If you have a cat expect him to lay on your couch with the cat on his chest as he gently strokes its furr while talking to you

#don’t worry I’m still a brance truther #vance hopper x reader #vance hopper #the blackphone #stranger things #jane hopper #will byers #jonathan byers #stranger things oc #the black phone oc #joyce byers #jim hopper #mothymilk ultim AU

[another-goblin]

2.0 SPOILERS and random thoughts

So the hotel building was a prison, right? It sort of makes sense, hotels and prisons have similar layouts. But imagine, the place of concentrated suffering of hundreds of thousands of prisoners, or maybe more (look how big it is), now turned into a weird supernatural hotel - what could possibly go wrong? (what if they kept prisoners in dreams too, and the dreamworld is a former prison dreamworld. And they were fed Soulglad to keep them docile). These cells were quite spacious though.

The way Sunday talked to somebody in the end reminded me of Cocolia. Is it possible a stellaron is involved here too?

The dead characters - no way Robin and Firefly will stay dead. They look playable, and you don't kill characters before they become playable (unless it's Qiqi or Blade)

I have a theory based on nothing, that Robin is alive and is actually behind whatever is going on. (Maybe her plan is for all these disruptive guests to kill each other in the name of harmony) She's in cahoots with Sparkle who pretended to be the body.

Sparkle - with her ability to shapeshift, aren't we supposed to be constantly paranoid? Anybody can be Sparkle. But also, seeing how vicious and unhinged she is, she feels like she should be the main antagonist in her own story arc, not just an extra. I mean even Sampo seems apprehensive of her.

I understand people who were enamored with Firefly and saddened with her death, but I personally weren't, because for me her part has the outward appearance of a romantic story, but inside it's just two hours of lies and tutorials. I also saw theories about her different identity and If it's true I hope the writers know what they are doing. Also why is our character so sure she's dead? Don't people who die in a dream just wake up in real world?

If Duke Inferno is dead, and stays dead, and his cool gang is never mentioned again, it's going to be the funniest thing in this game yet.

BTW how did Acheron allegedly enter the hotel using Duke invitation? Aventurine knows that we know that it's very hard (he witnessed our problems with DH's invitation). Make it make sense.

Gallagher - either he's up to something or he's extremely incompetent. He let go an actual stawaway and the huy who fits the description he just provided (Caelus - a guy with grey hair). Also it was him personally who stole confiscated Aventurine's stuff.

Speaking of which. I think Aventurine mentioned "cornerstones", plural. So it's not just his aventurine, but others too? Ratio implied that these things are crucial for their success and that Aventurine might be in danger from IPC without his rock, I wonder what's that about, and why Aventurine is so dismissive about losing them.

Anyways I'm still curious why IPC sent these two. It looks like they decided to achieve their goals on Penacony in a more or less peaceful way (unlike their military invasion on Jario-6). So why did they send Dr. Ratio, notorious for having the social grace of a nuclear bomb, and Aventurine, who isn't doing that great either.

I wonder how the game expects us to see Aventurine. The game probably expects us to see him as slimy but charming and dangerous. And yeah, he somehow (conveniently behind the scenes) managed to come to some agreement with Black Swan, but otherwise he fails miserably in most of his interactions.

When we first meet him, he pretends that he has the power to help us with our invitation problem, awkwardly compliments Robin and Sunday, tries to buy our friendship with a ridiculously small sum (well it was probably all the money he had left). Then he tries to intimidate us but gets spooked by Acheron. Ratio leaves in the middle of their conversation, Sparkle catches him stalking her and roasts him, and so on.

So my current VERY subjective impression is that he's quite desperate at this point. He constantly fails but tries to save face. He lost his confidence after his stuff was confiscated, he can't count on buying people's loyalty with giant bribes as he probably used to.

He obviously had a difficult childhood, he had to claw his way up, and IPC doesn't seem like a place that nurtures one's appreciation for genuine human connections. He probably learned to see genuine feelings as liability. As the result, he only sees people as assets, and "friends" as tools. He talks a lot about friends and trust, but never even pretends that he wants to achieve genuine trust or friendship with anybody. (I can continue but this post is long enough and it'll probably become obsolete with the next update anyway)

And I know it's probably too much to hope for, but maybe he'll get some character development, making him more open to the idea of genuine human interaction.

I already have seen a lot of interesting theories about what's going on, and I really hope the game won't just ignore all these hints and details it gave us, and all these things are actually important.

#honkai star rail #my stuff #hsr spoilers #hsr 2.0 #hsr 2.0 spoilers