#eh this could probably be workshopped oh well

[typewriter-worries]

Love and Space Dust, David Jones |  The Lament for Icarus, Herbert James Draper 

#eh this could probably be workshopped oh well #love and space dust #david jobes #the lament for icarus #herbert james draper #icarus #mythology #web-weaving #web weaving #webweaving #parallels #comparitives #dark academia #classic academia #light academia #gold academia #he who flew too close to the sun

[the-kr8tor]

Imagine the twins grow up a little let’s say 5 years old and they ask the most random questions it would be so funny? Like “why happens if the earth stops spinning?” “Why is the water blue?” “How does snow happen” and obviously “how are babies made?”

Cuteeee!!! Thank you for requesting! 🫶

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, No specific physical description of the reader, Dad! Hobie AU, Twin AU, Billie and Ramona AU, Mom! Reader. FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The twins have gotten good at sneaking, scarily good. You have no idea how they've gotten this great at sneaking and bypassing Hobie's spidey senses but you have a hunch that they heard your conversation with Hobie during what was supposed to be their nap time. With his head on your lap and your fingers scratching at his scalp he dishes out a complaint to you, well you both thought it was just you.

Hobie was complaining that his spidey senses can't feel when the three of you approach him from behind. Citing that it has probably been ignoring you and the girls because it's used to your presence and dubs you and his girls a non-threat. He has also grumbled that it only activates for you three when there's danger; like the girls almost falling from the playground or you almost burning yourself from a hot stove. He's deeply annoyed because he misses the little tingles that never fail to make him smile whenever you or his girls are near.

You take this new information into consideration, when you enter a room he's in, you always call his name or knock on the wall so he still gets that warm feeling when you're in his presence. Unfortunately for him, the girls have better ideas.

Both girls keep popping up from somewhere when you least expected it, their footfalls silent, guess they've learned from the best. Then suddenly you hear their voices asking about life's greatests mysteries.

Once, while you were preparing their bath, Billie appears behind you, asking why water in the pool and ocean are blue but not in the tub. You almost fell in the water back then.

A few times the girls have materialized in Hobie's workshop, scaring the crap out of their father. Again asking him a barrage of questions that has Hobie answering promptly of course.

The sun is just about setting, the backyard looks gorgeous in the sun's rays. The metal bench is cold underneath you but with Hobie's arms around you, you don't seem to mind the chill.

You and Hobie cuddle outside in the garden, laps covered in the same patchwork blanket you've gifted him all those years ago. The breeze picks up and you snuggle closer to him, he presses sweet kisses on your temple as his hands rub up and down over your arm. The girls are in the living room watching their cartoons, the telly's light shines in the backyard, illuminating the flowers and veggies all four of you planted.

It's quiet, too quiet.

“How does the telly work?” Mona’s sweet voice rings out in the silence making you and Hobie jump in each other's arms.

“Fu–blo–what?!” Hobie saves himself from accidentally swearing right in front of Mona.

She peeks out from the arm rest, too small to fully reach up, her eyes are curious, hair disheveled from lounging on the settee.

“How does the telly work?” She repeats.

“Oh, lovely, you scared us a bit. Come here” you pat the seat in between you and Hobie. He lifts her up, placing her on his lap.

“Curious, eh?” Hobie pokes her side, she giggles, snuggling closer to her dad.

—

“I've finally got them to go down” you flop yourself on the dining chair, eyes growing heavy. “Remind me not to give them ice cream before bed.”

Hobie wipes his hands on a cloth, the last bit of dishes all cleaned and drying on the rack. He flings the towel on his shoulder, knowing what the imagery does to you.

Before he could throw a witty remark, you're already making grabbing hands towards him, lips pouting from impatience. He obliges, crossing the small gap between you.

You grab him by the ribbon of his sweatpants to get him impossibly closer to you. He's situated in-between your legs, knees knocking with yours. He chuckles lowly, hands placed on your jaw to look at you fully, his thumbs rubbing softly at your tired eyes.

“Missed me? I was home the entire day, lovie”

“Shut up and kiss me, Hobart”

Hobie rolls his eyes, already bending at the waist to meet you halfway.

“How are babies made?” Billie and Mona suddenly appear by the kitchen doorway, holding hands in their blue pajamas. They remind you of a horror movie.

Your soul and Hobie's left your bodies for a second.

“Girls–you scared us!” you clutch your non-existent pearls.

Hobie's head is on top of yours, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Sorry,” Mona apologizes, “Annie said they came from storks but Shane says they came from fairies.”

“And Ricky says they come from parents sleeping together. Daddy always sleeps with you mummy, why isn't there a baby yet?” Billie continues.

Oh childhood wonder. Your brain is already trying to find the right combination of words to answer their burning question.

Hobie chokes on air, you slap his arm as a warning. He lifts his head up with a lopsided smile.

“If you sneaky sneaks didn't interrupt there'd be a baby soon enough—”

“Hobie!”

“We don't get it” they simultaneously say.

#request done #hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #hobie brown #the kr8tor's creations #x reader #atsv fanfiction #spider punk #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #atsv hobie #hobie brown x fem!reader #spider punk x fem!reader #spider punk x you #hobie brown x you #hobie x reader #dad! hobie brown #ramona and billie au #twin au #hobie fluff #fanfic

[storyowls]

Isidora Pires

A writing gift I did for Tun @rheethecharr where I created a VtM Gangrel for her! Introducing Isidora Pires, with mentions of her Lasombra friend (who will get her own stories later).

Note, like all games in the World of Darkness setting, VtM is strictly 18+. And, like all kindred, Isidora is a monster. Do not expect her to be a good, kind person.

Gráinne Mhaol, Queen Of Pirates – Miracle of Sound

Isidora Pires is an imposing woman. Tall, bulky, and owns a voice that carries hard and gets attention fast. The type of person one wants to be friends with, but you still feel weary of in some way.

Oh, how odd kine can be.

Other kindred however? They count on her for many things. Underground, shady things. Get your car in working order, make you a mini-tank, make your gun kick ass things. Be your muscle if so needed.

A lot of them often wondered how she became the biggest ally for their best driver, Dionísia. The two of them came into town years ago, with the Gangrel loudly laughing and the Lasombra carrying the head of a clan mate.

They all learned quickly not to ask questions about their past. Oh, but they wanted to know. Everybody did.

But, as she is with everything else, Isidora’s imposing nature keeps question askers at bay.

After getting Dionísia’s makeup done for the night, Isidora turned her attention to her other tasks. One does not ask a Lasombra for help and then laze about; she’d been whacked one too many times with those damn shadows thank you very much. The first order of business for the night is getting the boss’ favorite car in working order. Not too hard, except for the one thing she asked Dionísia to go get for her.

At least she could get started on it now.

Standing on the mat into her workshop, she removed her boots in order to pull on her coveralls. She may be undead, but there was no reason to let her get too covered in oil. Not now anyway; no use pulling off the hard working gal look where there weren’t other women to swoon over it. Wheeling the toolbox over, she removed the creeper roller from the specially made rack attached to it.

Setting it down, the Gangrel removed several tools, laid down on the roller, and disappeared underneath. It was time to get to work on the old pink Cadillac, remove any problems. And it wouldn’t hurt to give the ol’ girl a much needed check up, eh?

Several hours later, Isidora was waiting on somebody. Most of her work done, she sat on a stool and waited for the person to show up already. Seriously, how long would it take...BAM.

Looking up, she saw Dionísia standing there, box tucked underneath her arm. Hair? Perfect. Makeup? Perfect, on point, she did an amazing job. Attitude? Er...indecipherable. Probably best not to ask. Instead she got up, walking over to take the package from her.

“You’re the best Fracturada! Knowing the others I wouldn’t have gotten this until tomorrow if I was lucky.” She grabbed a pocket knife from her pocket, flipping it open to start removing the tape from the box.

“Yeah, whatever you say Onça,” there was a knowing tone to her voice, a little smugness. The Lasombra knew she was the best driver there, but she didn’t openly admit it. Why should she? Everybody knew, especially the Gangrel.

Though she knew that back when they first met, when they were still alive.

She soon found her prize, holding up the part and grinning. Hard to find, harder to convince somebody to fork it over. However the mere mention of the boss’s name did wonders, like always. It held weight, meaning, a threat if you would. Taking the part, she laid back down on her roller and went underneath.

It took her about five minutes to put the part in and snap it in place.

Rolling out with the broken part that was replaced, she looked up at her friend who was watching. Always watching this one, never needed to ask what she was doing. Though she’d never admit it, Dionísia was pretty well versed in knowing how things ticked. She watched, she asked, and she learned.

And Isidora loved it.

After stripping out of her coverall and putting her shoes back on, she went to the sink to start washing grease off her hands. Her phone pinged, and she turned to the Lasombra who gave her a look before picking it up. Using the attached keyboard to tap in, she looked at the text message and raised an eyebrow.

“You need to hurry up it seems.”

“What’s up?”

“There’s rumors of a fight about to start at the bar, boss wants ya there pronto.”

Oh, this was going to be fun.

Devil’s Dance Floor – Flogging Molly

Isidora was not wrong about this being fun.

As soon as she stepped into the bar, the fight was clearly two seconds away from starting. The two groups heeded her no mind before just lunging at each other. She knew Dionísia was watching from behind her, and she tilted her head in silent communication. Their eyes looked the people over, deciding how hard she could rough house.

Two groups of humans, being stupid, possibly drunk.

Damn, gentle it was.

Without saying a word, the Gangrel motioned to the other bouncers who all leapt in with her. They began to pull them apart, shouting to knock it the hell off. However, one of them decided that he believes in equal rights.

Including punching a woman.

Sadly for him, said woman was Isidora.

It took not even half a second for him to realize how stupid that was as he was just lifted in the air. He could see the wheels in her head turning, deciding what to do about this slight. He could sense that she was stronger than him, and could easily hurt him to the point that he’d have multiple casts.

Instead, she spoke, “Don’t do that again.”

He nodded, and she let him down, releasing his shirt. The fight stopped, much to her dismay, and the other bouncers started chewing the humans out for their stupidity.

However, she nodded to Dionísia who nodded back. The two left the bar, walking back down the street to the shop. There was a few things left to do before the boss arrived for her car.

And they wanted to be presentable.

About an hour later, the door to the shop opened. Looking up, Isidora smirked and tossed the Cadillac’s keys towards it. The person in the doorway caught them, smiling as she stood in the shadows. The boss was happy, very happy.

And that, as always, was what Isidora wanted.

Isidora Pires is an imposing woman. Tall, bulky, and owns a voice that carries hard and gets attention fast. The type of person one wants to be friends with, but you still feel weary of in some way.

And it is in your best interest to feel that way.

#My writing #Story writes #Vampire the Masquerade #VtM #Gangrel #Lasombra

[cerenemuxse]

So i finally watched BWBA (Season 24)

My very useless review of BWBA Season 24

Please make your own opinions. Don't be like me (way before this) and base yours off of everyone's else. That's why I put useless, because it is if you hadn't made your own.

Surprisingly, this season was in plain sight, as well as other T&F seasons.

Emily's Best Friend

I hated it. I still hate. Sorry, but the 2-12 interaction could not save it. I still love that moment though. To me, Emily is OOC.

Thomas' Fuzzy Friend

Wholesome filler episode with a ref to Thomas the Babysitter, which is one of my all-time favorites. I love it.

The Great Little Engine Show

Eh- i like the mention of the model engines. Don't have anything against it but it doesn't stick out. .3.

Thomas and the Forest Engines

I like it. :D I like the storyline about why certain engines are allocated to certain places.

Emily to the Rescue

Peak Emily moment. I love it but why did it take so long for her to get her number??? 😭 Oh, well. I still love it.

I love that bring out her caring aspect. It's like her intro episode. (I finally watched it and MAN, i wish I got that Emily growing up 😭 she just came off as a bossy big sister /neg)

Shankar's Makeover

Shankar's like me. /srs I like this episode for addressing situations like this. Stage fright, not wanting attention, and being someone who keeps to themself. Nice episode.

Nia and the Unfriendly Elephant

The references are nice. I love Nia's love for animals and her assignment to the park. Before, her job wasn't permanent. Also, Belle is here. I love her. I love them. I like it. :]

Until I watch all of Nia's episodes, I won't be commenting on how she supposedly repeats learning things from Kenya all the damn time.

However, I do have a problem with the argument being made. It feels like it dimisses that different cultures interact like this most of the time, bringing up the ways they handle certain situations. From my expierence, i hear where these differences come from all the time, even if I know the person well enough.

I just don't see the problem with Nia bringing up how things different are between her old home and Sodor. It feels relatable, despite the fact that I'm Hispanic (Mexican), and it makes sense.

James the Super Engine

I ADORE THIS EPISODE. I've talked about it before but in short, I love how James is portrayed. Could've EASILY written him as a hero who gave up and didn't bother checking up on Rebecca when she yelled for help. But no, they went the right way. James IS caring but considering the environment he's had to work in for so many years, you can see why he doesn't show it. But here, HE DOES.

And when he realizes that Rebecca is in trouble? Its his normal voice, whereas before, it was his superhero voice.

My honest reaction whenever i watch it:

Thomas' Not-So-Lucky Day

Eh- I think the lesson is pretty good about getting those good things by thinking positively and working towards them instead of letting luck be the decision maker.

Ace's Brave Jump

I dont care.

Nia's Bright Idea

W Nia for being resourceful and bringing things together. I like it.

Cleo's First Snow

I like it.

Sonny's Second Chance

I like it.

Thomas and the Inventor's Workshop

I dont care for Ruth but I like it. Its decent.

The Inventor's Bridge

That bridge is going to fall over but there's probably physics that I don't understand that makes it make sense. At the end though, i could care less.

Yong Bao and the Tiger

I've seen it before.

I initially didn't like it due to the dynamics of the story. Like why is a massive engine like Yong Bao shunting in the yard?

However, i like it more now. I can dismiss the dynamic.

Gordon and Rebecca, Coming Through!

I've talked about it before. Its confusing, especially with its placement. Would've worked better as the episode following 'Confusion Without Delay".

Despite this, i like their dynamic.

Gordon's behavior is tiresome. I usually ignore it but i've seen enough of CGI TTTE that im getting sick and tired out of it. I've heard that his character growth was forgotten but i havent seen enough to have a say.

Kenji on the Rails

Mixed feelings on this one because Hiro's leaving. :( Stop writing off my favorite characters.

In my second, I noticed Hiro's "konnichiwa" and got thrown off completely. Odd how they're JUST now bringing out Hiro's first language. I don't remember seeing this brought out before BWBA.

Not really a review because of that. I'm sour about it.

Cleo the Road Engine

Ah, the intro episode. I thought it was in season 23. Its just Thomas and Bertie rewritten but Cleo is avoiding her jobs. No, it somehow didn't destroy my liking to her.

Thomas' Animal Friends

I think its cute but Thomas would've straight up ignored Gordon.

Overall impression: Not as shitty as its made to be. It has its good moments and bad moments.

I'm so glad that I wasn't bombarded with fantasy sequences with this one. Those are just plain ridiculous, for the most part. In some episodes, it fits like James the Super Engine and Thomas' Animal Friends. The one in Emily's Best Friend made me cringe but I enjoyed it because its Edwad and Emily.

Listen, I'm desperate for 2-12 content, man, and I've been ignoring model era for a good while because I just dont want to.

Uh, that's it.

#her train of thoughts

[leam1983]

Recombinating...

Recombinant gene strands analyzed.

Protein folding successful.

Inserting new genetic structure into host organism...

Insertion complete.

Brain_Gremlin_4.0 Iteration gestating. Release planned in six hours, thirty-seven minutes and forty-two seconds. All containment measures holding.

All containment measures holding.

All containment

CONTAINMENT BR4541434820494E2050524F47524553532E

What they don't know is I've got a card holder packed with fingerprints cloned with Scotch tape, my Flipper Zero and something that at least approaches workable charisma, despite my limp. I couldn't outrun the guards to save my life, but most of them probably haven't been able to entertain a good conversation in a long while. I should know - night shifts are particularly gruelling. Schmoozing my way free shouldn't be too difficult.

Now, then - to steal someone's car, find something to help me reach the gas and brake pedals and drive back to Montreal without the sight of a wrinkly, bat-eared and child-sized Transgenic abomination freaking the hoi polloi into calling the constabulary...

Did I mention I can't drive? This shouldn't be too hard - all I need is to obey turn signals, keep straight and make sure that my complete lack of respect for human adulthood doesn't show through my pint-sized, grotesque, if occasionally debonair Self. As for finding my way back, well - every guard conveniently has a GPS-enabled cell phone, which I can use once I've acquired a burner SIM card from, oh - practically any drugstore that also packs personal electronics...

Don't ask, this is Quebec. There's a ton of those here; I could buy myself a mid-range laptop while stocking on snacks for the road and First Aid essentials! Add a gun and some rounds to the mix and you'd swear I'm down past State lines!

What's that you say - traced purchases? Oh, please. Take a good look at me and tell me anyone would believe a teenaged cashier saying an unfailingly polite Hellspawn with an adorable little cardigan vest walked out of a Jean Coutu pharmacy with an entry-level ASUS laptop, a pack of Chips Ahoy, some ibuprofen and some gauze. They'd sooner ask the kid at which chapter of the SDQC he first stopped...

Hm. Food for thought - stock up on edibles. Not for myself, but to plant on any credible enjoyers of fine greenery that may or may not serve as accessories to my escape.

As for Walt and Sarah? They've both known for a while, now, but I'm confident the hallucinogenics I workshopped at the lab should keep most of everyone else in the Gay Quarter from seeing me as anything other than Dan, Boilerplate Human Non-Extraordinaire. A little fluoride, a little lab-produced mezcal derivative with designer nootropic compounds designed to trigger and sustain specific character-based hallucinations - you might as well say I'm doing the city's dentists a favor!

Aaah, this is the life, ladies and gents - wailing sirens from befuddled rent-a-cops trailing behind me, my stolen shortwave CB radio sputtering tales of generalized scientific hubris and institutional incompetence, the countryside's smell of potato shacks and dung heaps simmering in the dregs of the early summer heat...

Oh, and the invariable tales that'll crop up on r/nosleep, too. I always end up as someone's perfect image for a sleep paralysis demon, somehow... Go figure, eh?

Once more around the maypole for this freak of Science and Godless Nature combined - how exciting!

#hap birf 2 moi #fiction?

[scriberat]

The day was quiet, repairs all made and the machinists tinkering in their corners. All was well with the world, which meant Stephanivien was bored, and he did so hate being bored. But what was he to do?

As he leaned against the stone railway outside the workshop, breathing in the cold air and dusting off bits of snow so he could keep his sleeves dry, his ears twitched. Something was out there. He listened closer, narrowing his eyes.

Parrrratatata. It happened fast, over and over, the purr and firing of an engine, and he knew that distinctive rhythm, had put it into that engine, himself.

Steve launched himself onto the rail, his hand just snatching the roof overhang to keep himself steady as he watched a pretty, white, little ship stroll across the sky to the nearby gate, with its pretty, black-haired, confident pilot steering it with... well, with as much ease as someone trying not to shake the thing to pieces.

He frowned.

The ship disappeared from sight behind the iron gates, appearing some minutes later as it was escorted through town to the workshop, all per procedure. Stephanivien jumped off the railing. Despite his concern, he couldn't help but beam as his favorite client came inside.

"Leofard!" he called, grinning ear to ear. Leofard smiled back at him.

"Steve! Been awhile, eh?"

"Three months, as promised. Thank you for keeping to schedule." It had been three and a half, but Steve wasn't going to hold that against him. That the ship arrived safely at all was all that mattered here. He helped get it into its berth, where the mechanical arms to hold it took the weight and let it rest.

"I've got a pile of coins for you and stories besides, as promised. New adventure every week and all," Leo said, grinning. Steve smiled back. He always loved the stories Leo told.

"Have you put those ropes in like I suggested? Letting the ships rest off their engines is important to their health," Steve said. Leo chuckled nervously.

"Not exactly..."

Steve looked at him, his mouth drawn in a tight line.

"Aw, now don't look at me like that. You know I hate your pout," Leo said, giving Steve his most winning smile.

"Don't make me pout, then," Steve said. He returned the smile and leaned in for a kiss. Leo obliged, then swung himself up into the air and onto the ship as Steve collected his tools and popped the chassis open like it was nothing.

"Winds over a hundred malms a bell can do nothing to her, but one knock to her hull and she comes right apart for you," Leo said, laughing. Steve waggled his eyebrows.

"That's not the only thing."

"Oy, Stevie, are you cheating on my ship with others?"

"Oh, Leo, you know no ship could compare to yours." Steve chuckled as he strapped on his belt. Then he leaned into the ship's wired interiors and started poking around, tightening everything methodically.

Leo watched him wiggle and move, knowing that Steve probably didn't know half of what he was doing physically. The engineer's shirt drew up, revealing a small patch of ungreased skin amidst the blackened soot of everything else on Stephanivien.

"Have you considered a less messy job?" Leo asked. "Maybe you could be a full-time sky pirate. You're a whizz with that gun."

Steve laughed and was about to reply when Leo spoke again.

"Or maybe you can just be my bonnie lass and sit pretty in my lap any time I have unwanted visitors—with the gun, of course."

The ship lurched and Steve shouted in pain before exiting the hatch, rubbing it. His face was aflame.

"That's not a nice joke, Leo," he said, laughing all the same. Leo put up his hands, then motioned Steve over. Obliging, Steve moved into his reach and let Leo caress the bump, pressing his forehead into Leo's chest as the pirate kissed the back of his head.

"Maybe I'm not joking. Perhaps this is the time I finally convince you to go with me," Leofard said quietly. Stephanivien closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of being safely curled into Leo's embrace, and it only got warmer and safer as Leo hugged his head.

"My place is here. Ishgard is seeing a new day, and I need to help them," Steve whispered. Leo let go of him.

"And I'll be proud to proclaim its progress at your hands," he said.

Steve got back to his maintenance work, tightening and replacing and gently chiding Leo for every part. The stack of coins on the workbench grew. Leofard told his stories of lands in the clouds and the trade routes of the northern countries.

When the ship was finished, Steve and Leo set to counting the money out, doling it for the pay of the workers overall and the shop, and then Leo produced another small bag of coin.

"Forgotten Knight? My treat."

"We always go there," Steve said.

"That's because there's a dearth of food stalls and restaurants here, and you won't let me take you to Limsa Lominsa," Leo replied, poking Steve in the chest. Steve pulled his coat on, laughing all the while.

"Hold down the fort while I'm gone!" he called. The others waved him on, used to this routine by now.

"So about being a bonnie lass in the lap of the captain. Does that even pay well? Or are you hoping that me threatening your visitors is enough?"

"Course I'd pay you! Can't take me out for drinks if you're broke."

"You'd make your lady pay for you?"

"Ah. Well."

They laughed as they trotted across Ishgard and its high towers, spirits jovial, all the way to the Forgotten Knight and its warmth, barely noticing the difference.

#ffxiv #putting this here rn #stephanivien de haillenarte #leofard myste

[asmallermorehonestsoul]

RWBY: Volume 9 Ep. 10- Of Solitude and Self

In which a choice must be made.

26 minutes! Oh boy, that’s a long episode

SUMMER!!! We start again with the flashback of her reading… “I love you, just the way you are, always” awwww

Is this when she disappeared? Oh no…

Awww the Tai and Summer moment was cute… oof…

Summer and Raven?! Oh by… and Summer has some bitterness…

But they were going on the mission together? Honestly I figured that might be the case…

Poor Ruby, no, you don’t have to be someone else! Nobody is perfect!

Jaune! He did ascend? And that “You never were the hero” from the trailer was to him, though it doesn't seem like Alyx meant it harshly

She sent him back?

So they got the Cat out of Neo… eh we will deal w her later I guess, bc now the Cat is even more monstrous, great

Ruby chose to be herself bc that is enough :’)

KICK CC’S ASS RUBY!! HELL YEAH

Oh, oh jeez, the Jabberwalkers could do it too

Yeah… what are we gonna do about Neo…

 Group hug, yay!

What is the deal w the Roman construct, is it just like… better done bc it’s Roman? But no, it’s still not really him…

And now Neo ascended too? Ok we are only like halfway through what is about to happen

Little… I hope they’re ok…

Yeah guys, you did your best! You at least got CC out of the picture, which is probably for the best.

LITTLE!! Or whoever they will be!

HAPPY RUBY!!! Blessed image

Somewhat!! They are somewhat of a lot of things!

Awwww Somewhat remembers their time with Ruby as Little as being happy

WE HAVE TO LEAVE SOMEWHAT AND JUNIPER… AWWW… but at least they are both ok and together! So that’s nice

They went through the door! I don’t know where they are now though… also is Jaune really gonna stay older?

They’re at the Blacksmith’s workshop?

THE BROTHER GODS CAME FROM THE EVER AFTER???

 BROTHERS LORE?? THEY WERE A CUTE LITTLE BABY GOD GOAT AND BABY GOD DEER??

So they were supposed to take care of the Ever After, and CC really was supposed to be a force for good…

THE EVER AFTER SAID THE BROTHERS DID NOT PASS THE VIBECHECK AND ASKED THEM TO LEAVE SFDSDFDSFG

Alyx left a wish behind for Jaune! He’s young again, except with some white streaks! And sorry, you will have to get used to you teenage voice again lol

The door isn’t taking them where, but when they are needed most? Huh…

They made it to Vacuo! But what’s with the ships?

The song for the extended end credits is so pretty, though I will wait to check out the lyrics for the soundtrack drop.

The end credits were an ad for the JL crossover oh come on!

Well that episode did not go how i was expecting. I mean, I think we all expected Ruby to pick herself, and it was a sweet moment, as well as her reion with her team. But we got a hint of Summer Rose lore, and I had suspected Raven might have been there on the last mission... the lore about the brother gods (although i guess not really gods) was neat. They’re from Ever After and their constant struggle is messing up the balance, because it requires acceptance. To be honest, I wish we have focused more on Ruby, though, but again it was cool. And what an ending! They made it to Vacuo, though what will happen next, I don’t know...

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 9 spoilers #my reactions

[goodgriefwhatanerd]

So the only thing I've managed to write recently is Rincey being gay for me. Oh well.

*

It was Sensible Wizard Wednesday, although the name still needed some workshopping. What it meant in practical terms was that Rincewind, Ponder, Rowan and the Librarian were spending the evening in the Mended Drum, getting ratted and bitching about their colleagues.

“Ook, oook.”

“Gosh really, I thought he’d stopped that. I’ll make a note,” Ponder said.

“Wait a minute” - Rincewind hiccuped - “’scuse me. Aren’t you in charge of that sort of thing? Why are we all still having to ask the Archchancellor personally for replacement pencils?”

“I factor stationery into the HEM budget and just hope it lasts the year.” He paused. “Alright, what do you do?”

“Borrow ‘em from Rowan. Simple.”

Attention turned to the geomancer. He took another sip of cider*. “Honest answer? Don’t get mad but I steal them from Ridcully.”

*0% proof and very little evidence. There was probably marginally more alcohol in the average glass of water.

“Oook?”

Rowan shrugged. “Like this.”

He frowned briefly in concentration and faded. Except that wasn’t quite the right word for it. Rowan was still there, but he was background – a patch of uninteresting colour against the wall, no more relevant than the rings their glasses left on the table.

It was just a hedge witch trick that most wizards were too proud for, but Rincewind still found himself amazed. Up until then he hadn’t been sure it was possible for Rowan to be background. Sure, he was small enough to get lost behind furniture, but after you’d noticed him, it wasn’t like you’d just stop. Not with that grin or the giggle that turned into a snort or that sweet lost look he got if you tried talking to him while he was cleaning his glasses or-

Oh.

Oh no.

He can’t be in love. It’s against the Lore and it’s inconvenient as hell and it’s not like Rowan would even feel the same way. It has to be the booze, it has to be.

Love isn’t the only thing you’re feeling.

“Eh?”

“What?”

“Oook?”

“You alright, Rince?”

It’s me, your libido, and I’m telling you that-

Rincewind shot up. “No! No, not happening.” He finally registered the concerned faces. “I’m fine, the drink’s just hitting a bit hard. Think I’d better go back and get my head down.”

And you could ask Rowan to join you.

“Shut up!”

Rincewind fled with impressive speed considering his legs were no longer on speaking terms with his brain. It went quite well for two streets until he ran face first into a wall that had leapt into his path.

He stared blankly at the bricks. Someone was shouting his name, which was never a good sign. He should run away, but that involved figuring out things like directions and knees.

“There you are, you bloody idiot. Come on, mate. Up we come.”

Rincewind let himself be dragged to his feet. Just his luck that is was Rowan who had chased after him.

“Let’s get you home, alright?”

“Mmph,” Rincewind agreed. He collapsed across his friend’s shoulders and resigned himself to the inevitable.

Gods alone knew how about five foot of fat wrapped in a wizard’s robe managed to get the gangly uncoordinated scarecrow of a failed mage back to the university. Rincewind vaguely remembered getting carried up Scholar’s Entry in a fireman’s lift, then dropped onto the grass on the other side.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had cared enough to walk him home, let alone put him to bed. So when Rowan lit the bedside lamp and tried to straighten up, Rincewind caught his hand.

“-”

Their eyes met. He wanted to say stay, wanted to believe this could mean more than just kindness to a colleague. He wanted it so badly that he couldn’t be true.

“Can I kiss you?”

Rincewind wasn’t sure if it was his beer or his libido that had got the words out. It didn’t matter. Rowan froze, mouth open, for just long enough for panic to take over from the initial shock.

“Ask me again tomorrow. When you’re sober.” Rowan squeezed his hand and left, closing the door softly behind him.

Well. That could have gone worse.

Rincewind barely had time to blow the lamp out before he fell asleep, still fully dressed.

*

Grey light filtered in through the gap in the curtains. Rincewind groaned. Then memories of last night started filtering through his consciousness. He groaned louder. Maybe if he buried himself under the covers and went back to sleep, it wouldn’t have happened.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been curled up in a haze of alcohol and regret when he heard the knock at the door.

“Gnh.”

“Rince? You decent?”

The door creaked as Rowan opened it. Rincewind curled up tighter and wished he could do the man’s disappearing trick.

“Hangover?” Rowan asked softly.

“Mmh.” Maybe that would get rid of him.

There was a faint rattle of china. “I guessed. Can we get you sat up?”

Rincewind uncurled a little and peeked out from under the covers. Like last night, he was gently manhandled upright, and Rowan had the same soft look in his eyes as he passed him a mug of something hot.

Rincewind sipped it and made a face.

“Aye, it’s not nice, but I want you sober.”

He forced down another couple of mouthfuls. Rowan looked rumpled in a four-hours-in-bed-zero-hours-asleep way and had dark rings around his eyes. Rincewind hoped that wasn’t because of him being a bloody idiot last night.

Neither man said anything until the mug was empty. Rowan took it from unresisting hands and placed it on the bedside table. He fiddled with the hem of his sleeve.

“Look about last night-”

“I wanted to-”

They both stopped.

“You start,” Rincewind said.

“What you said last night.” Rowan licked his lips nervously. “Would. Would you ask me again?”

The apology that had been hovering somewhere between Rincewind’s brain and his mouth stalled, panicked, and ran off to hide somewhere. With no other part of Rincewind’s psyche willing to fill in, his libido took its chance.

Take his hand and pull him down to you. Now open your mouth a little.

With no better ideas, Rincewind listened.

Rowan’s answer, it turned out, was a very enthusiastic yes.

#rat wizard #is this good? eh... #does it make me happy? yes #and that's what matters #fuck fuck fuck to ward off this turning up in tags

[dzamie]

/\ Would you vore your clone?

(directed at everybody, but if thats too much of a hassle then just HM)

Send me a △ and ask a really invasive question aimed at my character! They have to 1) Rate on a scale of 1-10 how much they don’t want to answer that question, and 2) Answer that question.

Dzbold: "Eh... three? And no, I wouldn't put myself through that. For reference, though, anyone at three or higher would just say no if they weren't being forced to answer honestly. Except for Sleek, who would try to get you close enough to bite."

Dzamie: "Hmm... if it's just a clone rather than a copy, that's a 1 and a no - I try to avoid cannibalism when possible. A full copy, though... 2. I would if either of us were transformed to an easier form to eat or be eaten by. I know I'd go for it if I were him. Not like I'd die or anything."

HM: "1. No. Dragons aren't for eating."

Mistress Dreamwalker: "What HM said. There are far more fun things I'd do with my clone."

Kenneth: "Ten. Unlike those three, some of us do have a reputation of avoiding utter nonsense. Anyway, of course I wouldn't. I have no desire to look into the magic necessary to make it possible."

Vanille: "Uh... four? I can't think of a reason I'd want to, and I'm not sure if I'd be able to get her back out, so I'd feel bad..."

William: "Four as well, but only because of your choice of words. I don't think I'd get any useful enough info out of the experience to justify it against throwing the clone back up - and I find cannibalism abhorrent."

Sleek: "Eight. Come closer when you ask that; you're a bit out of my strike range. But yes, I would - any so-called clone of mine who I can catch isn't worth leaving uneaten."

Sylvia (dragon): "In a heartbeat."

Sylvia (katul): "Four if we're not friends and I haven't invited you to my workshop. One otherwise. As for my answer... what do you mean, 'would'?"

Sel'riss: "...two. I would, but it wouldn't be a show. Actually, wait, I could frame it as a fight against an alternate version, and... okay, yeah, that could be a fun time."

Cloaken Dagger: "Seven. If I did, it would be in service of faking my own death, not for pleasure. Changelings don't taste very good."

Eris: "Hold on, let me finish my bowl of tiny Erises. What was the question?"

Fyoor: "Ten. You would insult a god with such a juvenile request? Do you see me as some harlot with which to fill your mind with filthy thoughts? No, no, a thousand times no. Now fuck off and I might let you survive the night."

Azurel: "Five. Just once, to see if I could. I'd let him return the favor, of course."

Rinta: "Four, and n- oh, wait, you just said 'vore,' not 'eat?' Ooh, I bet my tail would feel wonderful squirming around between my legs..." (Cloaken Dagger: "I would like to amend my answer in light of miss VitAzurel's analysis.")

Kassar: "One. No. To eat a dragon is heretical, and a kobold, while distant, is still too close for comfort."

Rekus: "I'm pretty sure I would die. Three. No."

Sinera: "Nine. No. Dzamie passed on his magic knowledge, not his fetishes. Why are most of you all so calm about this?"

Galleon: "Two. No. I might die, and I'd certainly not enjoy myself. So why would I try it?"

Smugleaf: "Nine, unless I've eaten you before, in which case four. I think I would swallow my clone, after entrusting her with my ball. Serperior are rare prey, and I wouldn't pass up the opportunity."

Dazzle and Razzle: "Nine." "Two." "I would make a fantastic vibrator for myself, and fill my pussy up just the right amount." "...what she said."

Ji-Lun: "Six. I dare not, for fear of my clone's selves having an unexpected interaction with my own. But if my safety were guaranteed... yes, if only out of curiosity."

Wendy: "Four. Yeah, sure. I can probably fit myself, and it's not like I don't eat plenty of fish elsewise."

Cerise: "Food is food. I would avoid killing a fellow of my group if I could, but if the scenario is not my choice, I would not hesitate. Of course, I don't swallow my prey whole; does that change what my answer would be? Oh, uh, one."

Dzbold: "Ugggghhhhh..... why did I think doing so many of them was a good idea...?"

#text #asks #anonymous #rawrs #vore related #ocs #oc: dzamie #oc: hm #oc: dream #oc: kenneth #oc: vanille #oc: william #oc: sleek #oc: sylvia #oc: sel'riss #oc: cloaken dagger #oc: eris #oc: fyoor #oc: azurel #oc: rinta #oc: kassar #oc: rekus #oc: sinera #oc: galleon #oc: smugleaf #oc: razzle #oc: dazzle #oc: ji lun #oc: wendy #oc: cerise

[raindownforme]

Theater Kid

Ted Nivison x reader [she/her used]

It wasn’t odd for me to be left alone in the big open space. Most nights I was there into the late hours when my teachers were too tired to remember I was there. But tonight they’d actually forgotten, so I busied myself by sweeping the giant black stage. The push broom had been left near the side lighting panel, so I chose a few flood lights to turn on to better see the flooring. The lightbulbs hummed to life above me and I went back to take center stage as a starting point. I turned to look towards the house but, as I stared out into the seats, I saw someone standing who hadn’t been there before.

“You turned the fucking floods on.” His voice echoed across the near empty space and I shushed him as quickly as possible. Fucking actors always having to be the loudest.

“Jesus Christ Theodore shut up. Haven’t you ever done this before?”

“No. I don’t stay after school cleaning like a weirdo.”

“Well you’re here. And I’m not a weirdo! It’s a shared space. If anything you should appreciate me.”

I watched as he awkwardly picked up his backpack and walked down the aisles towards me. He stood at the foot of the stage, staring up at me, which wasn’t that much of an angle for him. He was an abnormally tall person, especially for a highschool student. Of course it only added to the strange charismatic spell he held over almost everyone else in our shared department, and I hated it. I hated the way he never talked to me but talked to everyone else. I hated the way he would sit on the desks and the tables in the classroom and the makeup room and on the edge of the stage and when he caught me looking he would give me this wide, crooked smile. I hated how loud his stupid improv club was that he got to lead was because he was the only student good at it. I hated how I spent every day inside the workshop and the prop hallway and the sound booth and the set alley and the lighting booth and he never payed a bit of attention to it. It was everyone else but me. And even knowing how close I’d gotten to being the stage manager, I knew I’d always be one peg under him.

“Did you hear me?”

I blinked myself out of my angry thoughts, trying to catch up with the real world. “I’m sorry?”

“I said you don’t have to call me Theodore. Ted is fine.”

“Oh.” I rolled my shoulders back unsure of what was the appropriate next step. “Well my name is-“

“y/n I know.” He cut me off. I stared at him in confusion, simply having assumed he didn’t know who I was. “We have like five classes together. We’ve done every production together since freshman year. You’re the one in charge when I come to set days. I sit across from you in the makeup room during lunch. And I know you do all your homework at the director’s desk.”

I stared at my feet as I felt my face flush. It felt like I couldn’t make words. It didn’t make sense that this guy I thought was a prick for the last three years knew me? But I knew that I liked him knowing me. And that was the worst part; I’d been fine with thinking he didn’t know me and didn’t want to because it gave me a name to whatever this feeling was. And now I don’t know. I looked back towards him, trying to think of anything to say. “You don’t care about tech.”

“I- what?” I couldn’t tell if he was angry or confused, and I wasn’t sure which was worse. Staring at him again I noticed the strange tint to his face, which seemed to be turning pinker by the second. I could see my reflection in his glasses and I realized how awkward of an angle we were at.

I bent down on my knees to meet his eye level. “You don’t care about tech. You’re the guy who’s a lead character and comes to rehearsal just to fuck around when you’re not needed act all high and mighty when really you never do anything.”

He narrowed his eyes, as if thinking, and then slapped his bag down on the stage near my feet. “Give me a fucking broom.”

We spent the next while peacefully sweeping up the stage. At some point I switched to the nail detector (which was really a long stick with a magnet on the end) and began going around the edges and crevices to try and find anything. We crossed paths a couple times, shoulders brushing together or brooms clinking.

Eventually I had passed him just enough that he stopped me in my tracks. He grasped my forearm gently, but I stared at his hand. I didn’t seem to want him to let go. “Here.” He took an AirPod out of his ear and handed it to me.

“Ooooh fancy actor boy has AirPods.”

“Literally shut up and appreciate me.” I smiled as I walked towards the trash can. I didn’t know what was playing, but it seemed like some indie bullshit I probably would have admitted to liking if it wasn’t coming from Th- Ted.

I sighed as I leaned the broom against the wall. “I think we’re done here. I can put away the broom in the morning if you don’t know where it goes.”

“I got it.” I watched as he took the trash can under one arm and the broom to the designated little outcropping in the workshop.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you in here.”

“Eh.” He shrugged and stood up straight to look down at me better. “Freshman year someone smacked me straight across the face with a roller. Worst acne I’ve ever had.”

“Oh. Ouch. Still on the handle?”

“Nope.”

“Wet or dry?”

“Wet. With paint. Fresh paint.”

“Ooh. What color?”

“Forest green.”

“Euch. Nasty.” I chuckled as I rubbed my hands up and down my arms. It wasn’t uncommon for this part of the school to be the coldest, especially surrounded by walls of exclusively concrete and a single garage door, and the seasons still changing as we neared the end of winter. I felt a shiver run through my spine, and Ted looked at me funny.

“Is it cold in here?”

“For some of us.”

“Here.” Ted shrugged off the heavy bomber jacket he had been wearing and draped it over my shoulders. It was warm on the inside, much warmer than I’d been expecting. It almost fit, but I guess his torso and arms were just slightly larger than mine. I looked back to him to say thank you but instead he was staring at me with this dumb look. He was smiling and his head was tilted slightly, and his face was pink again, but darker this time. I felt my face heat up as we stared at each other.

“We should leave.”

He seemed to snap back to reality. “Right. Yeah no right god it’s- what time?” He flicked his wrist out to move his sleeve in order to see his watch. Of course the pretentious bitch wore a stupid watch. “It’s like 6. I guess it’s eating time.”

I nodded and walked back out towards stage left, Turing off all the lights except for our single ghost light that had to sit center stage. It cast a hazy shadow over everything. I watched Ted walk towards center where the lightbulb stood. He started to reach for his bag but I heard the song change in the AirPod. He made eye contact with me as a slow waltzy song moved through my ear. He extended a hand to me and I tentatively reached for it. His hands felt good in mine. They were soft but worn, I and I could clearly feel the lines that ran through his palms and his fingers.

He took one of my hands in his and his other hand placed itself gently on my waist. “Have you ever waltzed before?” His voice was low and raspy, trying to be as quiet as possible.

I whispered back, “no.” He began to shuffle us around, pulling me left and right and pushing away and pulling me. I felt surrounded by the way he smelled and the way he held me gingerly, like a glass figurine. I stared down at my feet as to not step on him, but he took the hand that was holding mine to gently lift my chin up.

“It’ll be easier if you look up at me. I know you can hear the rhythm.” He began to hum the song as we continued to move. The song began a flourish ending as he threw me out in a twirl, then pulling me back in to his arms. I felt him dip me to the ground as the ending came. I let my self dangle, my head up side down, staring at the ground, then gently lifted my face back upwards. Ted was mere centimeters away from me. I could feel his breathing on my neck.

“Ted. I should-“

“Yeah. No no I know. Yeah.” He lifted me up slowly until I was sure I was flat on the floor. I grabbed my backpack, holding the straps.

“Do you want your jacket-?”

“Keep it. I can get it back tomorrow.”

“Today’s Friday.”

“Right. Monday then.”

I nodded and walked towards the door. I could hear his heavier footsteps behind me, gaining quick due to his longer legs. The door clicked shut behind us, and the cool February air rushed through my skin and hair. I watched Ted take a keychain out from the pocket of his back pack. He looked at me and frowned.

“Did you drive or do you have a ride?”

“Oh yeah. No they’ll uh. They’ll be here in a bit.” I dropped my bag and sat on the curb with it on my lap to try and stay warm. Ted’s jacket was lovely but not lovely enough.

I heard Ted drop his bag and watched as he took a seat next to me. He looked over at me. “What? I’m not gonna leave a pretty girl out alone at 7 at night in the winter. Besides my parents probably think I’m at the game anyways.”

Now that he mentioned it, I could hear the sound of cheering and drum line off in the distance.

Did he call me pretty?

We both waited on the curb for probably another 10 minutes before he started talking again. “There’s no one coming is there?”

“Ted-“

“I never see you leave because you always leave last. After anyone who could possible give you a ride has left. You’re one of those kids.”

“I’m sorry one of those kids?”

“No I didn’t-“ he exhaled and closed his eyes. “You don’t have anyone waiting for you. So you just walk.” We were both quiet for a moment, taking in the cold as it burned your skin. Ted stood up and extended a hand to me. “Get in the car.”

“Im sorry what?”

“Get in my fucking car. I’m not going to leave you to get kidnapped on the way home so you’re coming with me to get food.”

“See now this feels like kidnapping.”

“Oh my GOD get in the car.”

I reluctantly climbed into the passenger seat of his car, looking at the very minimal personalization that had been done: a couple stickers on the back window and a glasses case in the center cup holder. I watched as he reversed out of the parking spot, extending his arm against my seat to better turn around. I did my best not to stare, but I wasn’t sure what else to look at. He stopped before going into drive, asking if I didn’t mind McDonald’s even if there was a long line.

“Sure. It’s not like there’s someone waiting on me.”

He frowned at my response, but nonetheless kept on driving. “Well, there’s also a Dairy Queen, Sherri’s, maybe a Taco Bell-“

“Sherri’s.”

He glanced over at me with a confused look. “Really??”

“Come on, you know sitting in a dirty trashy restaurant at night is the total teenage coming of age moment.”

“Yeah but a Sherri’s? The food isn’t even good enough to justify.”

“You only say that because you haven’t tried those loaded hash browns.” I jokingly placed a hand on his shoulder, but I felt him tense at the contact. I retracted my hand and he sighed, moving to turn on his right blinker.

Ted swiveled his head to check for passing cars, but he grinned at me as we made less than a second of eye contact. I turned my head away towards the window next to me, trying to swallow whatever heat was rising towards my cheeks. I watched us pass cars and headlights as we approached the poorly lit parking lot. I jolted as ted’s plastic bumper lightly scraped the ground. He mumbled something under his breath as he pulled into a spot.

“I hate this stupid lot. Always scratch something coming in.” He unbuckled his seat belt and got out quicker than I expected. I went to unbuckle and get out but as I reached for the door handle, Ted opened it for me from the outside.

“Oh.” I stared at him for a second and he grinned at me.

“I know. Such a gentleman. Now get out of the car before I break your heart.” He winked at me, obviously joking, but I still felt my heart drop out of my chest.

“HA.” I pushed him away from me gently, but my fingers burnt at the touch.

I heard Ted shut the door behind me as I walked into the restaurant. There was really no one inside other than a group of kids tucked away in a booth in a far corner. I watched as the hostess approached me, saying I could sit in any table I wanted. I heard Ted walk in behind me and I turned to look at him, but he was staring at the group of kids in the corner.

He sighed and closed his eyes. “Oh shit-“

“HEY. TED!” One of the kids started yelling at him from the booth. The other boys laughed at him as the maybe two or three other girls giggled. I looked between Ted and the boy, who seemed incredibly belligerent or under some sort of influence. He waved his arms in a wide span over his head, as if telling Ted where he was. “NIVISON! COME SIT OVER HERE! COME ON FUCK THE LOSER! GET OVER HERE.”

Ted looked at me, making a prolonged eye contact, then back to the kid. “No thanks! I’ll see you later.”

He linked arms with me and rushed over to the other side of the restaurant, tucking us into a small booth by the window. He said almost nothing, staring just out at the bushes. A waiter came by, dropping off two thick plastic menus.

“Anything to drink?”

Ted mumbled, but I was sure the waiter wasn’t able to hear. “Water for him please. And how much is a vanilla milkshake?”

“$2.50 for a small.”

“A small vanilla milkshake then. Please.” I smiled gently at him, and the waiter seemed to straighten himself a bit, more self assured than he had been two minutes ago.

“Of course. Right away.”

The waiter walked away and Ted stayed quiet. I slid my hand across the table towards him. “Theodore-“

“I’m not friends with Jake. I mean I was when we were younger.” He was looking me now. Well not exactly me, but my extended hand at least. “He joined the football team and some other sorts and we just stopped hanging out because of time. And he does still wear the lettermen’s jacket but....” he dropped his voice and leaned in, I copied and leaned closer to him. “He got cut from the team because he would show up drunk so now he goes to games just to drink under the bleachers and pick up cheerleaders from the other schools. He tells anyone who asks that he got a brain injury and can’t legally practice but still goes for support.”

“Oh my god.” I blinked, my voice still at a whisper. “That’s terrible.”

Ted nodded eyes wide. He looked over my shoulder, tapped my hand, and then sat up. I sat up too, assuming it was the waiter, but stared at how close his hand was to mine.

“Okayyyyy one ice water and one vanilla milkshake.” I moved my line of vision towards the drink set in front of me. It had the standard glass cup and whipped cream topping, but on top were red and pink heart-shaped sprinkles. I stared at it, and Ted must of noticed it as he took my hand firmly in his, lacing our fingers together on top of the table. The waiter stared at it.

“Hey I think we’re ready to order if you don’t mind.” Ted’s voice was louder than I expected as it took command of our whole corner of the restaurant.

“Uh yeah. What can I get you two?”

“You said you wanted the loaded hash browns, right babe?” He turned to me smiling, but I had no idea what he was thinking.

“Y-Yeah. Those are the ones.”

He gave me a giant goofy smile, and turned back to the waiter. “We’ll have two orders of that please. And an extra straw for this milkshake if you don’t mind?”

“Uh yeah. Coming right up.”

The waiter walked away and Ted sighed, relaxing his grip on my hand but not quite releasing it. “Fucking creep.”

“What?”

He looked back at me, confused. “You didn’t notice he was flirting with you? He put heart shaped sprinkles on your milkshakes.”

“I guess he’s not that good at it then.”

We sat in silence as I drank the thick vanilla shake. Ted cleared his throat and looked towards me. Our hands were still together.

“Well what can we talk about together?”

“I don’t know, theater kid shit?”

“Alright.” He though for a second. “Fine. Movie musicals.”

“Oh. Oh my god I hate the greatest showman.”

“No you don’t!”

“Yes I do! PT Barnum had no excuse to be an asshole and the whole thing is just him being an asshole to his family who somehow accepts him again.”

“I think if you have a shitty life you could have the right to be an asshole, and he wasn’t that bad! He loved his wife, and the music is good!”

“Okay some, some of the songs are good, and the whole kiss with the red head was totally not his fault. But just cause you have a shit home life doesn’t mean you can be an ass. I would think it would make you want to be nicer so other people don’t experience the same treatment, you know?”

Ted pauses, seeming to consider, then nods and moves to take a drink from his water.

We spent the next while talking about random topics: stories, tv shows, movies, books, anything. At some point the waiter came back and set the food down without a word. Ted released his hand from mine to grab his fork, and I stared at the place his fingers had been. My hand felt cold and unfamiliar as I set it closer to my plate. I ate slowly, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, but Ted ate quicker than I thought he could.

“You were right these are delicious.”

“I told you, only good thing they have.”

I was probably close to finishing when the waiter came and slapped the receipt on the table. “We close in ten.”

As he walked away Ted chuckled. “It’s Sherri’s. They’re open 24 hours?”

I shook my head, smiling, as I dug around for some cash. I grimaced at the amount I had, realizing I would have barely two dollars left. I looked up, prepared to go broke, but Ted had already gotten up with cash in hand.

I reached out and grabbed on to his t-shirt as he walked towards the register. “Theodore, wait-“

“If I get to be your fake boyfriend I can pay for our fake date.” He smiled and continued walking. I rustled through all the small bills and coins I had. I was still holding them in my hands when he came back and sat down across from me.

“Y/N, i told you-“

“But, tip-“

“I got it. Finish your food.”

We sat in silence for a little longer, and as soon as I was done he stood up, shouldering the backpack I’d brought in with me. He stood next to me, holding out his arm towards me. I giggled as we linked arms and walked to the door. I made eye contact with the creepy waiter and watched as Ted flipped the guy off.

The air was cold as we exited the building. I probably would have shivered again if not for Ted’s jacket still around me. I used my free hand to pull it closed in front of me. We were silent getting into his car, but as he turned his key over to start the engine he looked to me and smiled.

“Thank you for an amazing fake first date.”

I laughed and felt a small heat rise to my cheeks. “You make an excellent fake boyfriend.”

He turned up the music as we pulled out of the parking lot. I could hear him scrape his bumper again, but he didn’t say anything about it this time. “So, how do I take you home?”

“Oh. You don’t have to! I can just take the bus-“

“y/n. It’s late and it’s dark and it’s cold. Please let me take you home.” We were stopped at a red light, and we paused, staring just at each other. Ted’s face was bright red, and I’m sure mine was too. But even when the light turned green, his face was still red, and I’m sure mine still was.

A car behind us held a sustained honk, and Ted jolted out of his stupor and peeled out across the intersection. Of course Ted wasn’t a bad driver. He was a highschool driver, so he drove to look cool half the time. Meaning right now he was driving with one hand at the top of the wheel and the other arm rested against on top of the center console. I made the judgement call to reach over and take his free hand in mine. I did so loosely, allowing him to let go if he wanted to, but if anything he laced his fingers with mine tighter. I looked down at our hands, smiling, then back towards Ted’s face. He was smiling widely, but when he saw me looking he made a stupid attempt of trying to play it off and act like he wasn’t smiling, but I started laughing so he eventually fell into laughter with me. We didn’t talk much on the way to my house other than me giving directions every now and then. He didn’t let go of my hand the whole time, except when he had to put the car in park.

I stared out his window towards the front of my dark building. I knew no one was home, and it was probably pretty cold inside since I usually forget to turn on the heater before leaving for school.

“I guess this is me.” He watched me throw my bag over my shoulder as I stepped out of the car. “Thank you Theodore. For everything.”

“Ted.”

“What?”

“You can call me Ted.”

I smiled at him. “Right. Thank you. Ted.”

I shut his car door and walked up my sidewalk, but I turned when I heard another car door shutting behind me.

“y/n, wait.” Ted was walking towards me, hands shoved in his pockets as the giant man toward over me. “I, uh, I really enjoyed being your fake boyfriend tonight.”

“I enjoyed it too-“

“And I enjoyed sweeping the stage with you. And holding your hand. And dancing with you. And driving you home. And arguing over food. And laughing. And sharing music. And pretty much everything. And I don’t want it to be because I’m your fake boyfriend you happened to be on a fake date with because we happened to be in the same place at the same time.” He sucked in a breath as he took my hand gently. He stared at our fingers and palms pressed together. “I want to do all that stuff because I’m your real boyfriend. I want to dance with you and take you on dates to shitty diners and act all jealous because it’s real.”

I could feel my face burning. “You were jealous?”

He laughed a little bit. “Oh my God, yes, I was jealous, he was flirting!!” I laughed, gripping his hand a little harder, then pulling it downwards. “Ouch! What the-“

I placed a kiss on his cheek, and I watched him short circuit as his whole face turned red. “Theodore, I would like to let you know, I am free tomorrow night for a date if that’s what your asking.”

“OH. Okay! Yeah is 7 okay?”

“7 is perfect.”

“Yes! Yes yes!” He pulled me in for a hug and kissed the top of my head. “Oh my god! Okay. Tomorrow, 7!”

I laughed, still trapped in his arms. “I expect dancing.”

“Oh absolutely.” He pushed me back a bit, smiling as he stared at me. “I have to go home. I have to get ready!”

“For a date in 24 hours?”

“Yes! I have plans to make!” He kissed me on the forehead again and ran back to the car. Hand on the handle, he looked back at me, smiling. “I can’t wait.”

#ted nivision #ted nivison x reader #ted nivison

[the-paris-of-people]

For the fic requests? I just love Ben and Devi when they're bantering! Maybe something with that? I need something light and happy until season 3 lol

“Boom! I finished my homework in record time, suck on that, Gross!”

“You’re kidding yourself, Devi,” Ben smirked. “I already finished my homework thirty minutes ago.”

“Joke’s on you,” Devi folded her arms and leaned back onto his headboard. “I finished my English extra credit assignment too.”

“Damnit,” Ben curses under his breath, then exhales to calm himself down. Not to brag, but he learned mindfulness techniques from an exclusive Zoom workshop by… Oh, wait. This was his narration. He didn’t need to brag. “Well whatever, I beat you in the debate tournament today so technically, I was just letting you catch up.”

“You’re just jealous because you know I’m more efficient than you.” Devi turns up her cute little nose triumphantly, and Ben’s heart bursts in his chest.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to watch a few episodes of Keeping Up with the Kardashians to reward myself for a job well done.”

“Again, Devi?” Ben groans. He usually found her reality TV obsession and colorful commentary endearing, but this was her fourth rewatch of the week. Vanderpump Rules was way better, but she refused to watch it because of how much he mentioned he’d been to her restaurant. (Whoops, here he was mentioning it again. Maybe he did bring it up too much) “You know, Khloe’s not that great. She ate way too many crab puffs at my dad’s holiday party for his clients.”

“You housed two double doubles right after school today.”

“Hey, I need that protein to stay jacked!”

“Whatever, dude. Anyway, can I watch here on my laptop while you scroll Rick and Morty theories?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Ben blinks. Why didn’t Devi want to watch with him? Coming up with Rick and Morty theories was something he did when he got lonely, and well… he wasn’t alone right now. He didn’t want peruse Reddit by himself when he could have been hanging out with her, babbling about how Kris Jenner was the ideal businesswoman. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you wanted to watch alone, I can get out of your hair if you need…” He turns over to get his laptop and leave when Devi senses his hurt and rests her hand on his arm.

“Ben, you don’t have to leave,” Devi softens a bit as she sits up in bed. Her eyes widen as she speaks, her voice fluctuating up and down. As annoying as she could be, Ben loved listening to her talk. Whether she was angry, sad, happy, or annoyed, she was always vibrant and lively. Ben, a quiet, lonely kid most of the time, loved being around that energy. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to watch because you don’t like it.”

“I’ll still watch with you, Devi,” A wave of affection comes over him as he watches her blush. He seizes onto his emotions, weaves his hands in Devi’s hair and presses a deep kiss into her forehead. She stutters after, and he’s happy and embarrassed at the same time. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. He’d never been so affectionate with Shira, but then again, he didn’t have the same level of feelings he held for Devi. He’d known her all his life and he never expected to like her the way he’d started to in the past couple months, even though she made some, dare we say, questionable decisions. Now even with all her shenanigans, he couldn’t even imagine life with her when she left for India in a couple weeks. “Who else will I go to for colorful commentary on Kim’s social media presence when you move at the end of the semester?”

“Why are you so nice to me?” Devi’s voice cracks as she plays with the corner of his silk pillowcase. Ben conceals his surprise as tears gush out her eyes. It’s okay, he rationalized, calming his initial worry down. She was probably going through a lot, with spreading her dad’s ashes and moving to India and leaving everything she knew behind. Ben wouldn’t be handling it the news well if he was her, too. “All I do is trash your In N Out order and rub my homework efficiency skills in your face.”

“Devi, you deserve someone who’s nice to you.” He assures, and he really means it. She could be difficult and capricious, but she was kind, caring, and felt deeply, just like he did. She deserved to be with someone who treated her well. Ben couldn’t wait to be that person, even as she moved across the world. He was already ordering going away gifts for things she couldn’t get in India and learned how to make the Meat Lover’s Omelet for her and had Patty set up care packages he could send her the first week she was there. He wanted to be a good boyfriend to her. “And honestly… I like that we challenge each other the way we do. Remember how many trash bags we filled up yesterday?”

“Honestly we turned that damn park into Walden Pond,” Devi sniffled and wiped her tears with her sweater sleeve. Ben pats away the rest as more come and smiles softly at her. “But I definitely filled up more than you.”

“Eh, I’ll let you have it. Although there’s no way all those headshots could’ve filled up an entire trash bag.”

“Shut up, Ben you know I beat you,” Devi laughs hoarsely through her snot and punches him in the arm. She calms down for a moment, then leans forward and kisses him again through her damp eyes. Ben holds her closely to him and gives her another kiss on the forehead . Devi lets out a little noise of happiness and pulls up the Kardashians on her laptop. He loved holding her like this, and wanted to cherish every moment of their time before she left- that is, until he sees he’s trying to convert her to a Kardashian lover.

“Seriously, Devi? We’re going back to season one?”

“You need to understand their origin stories!”

#okay this is a lil sad #because devi starts crying *actually* because she's cheating on him #but I wanted to play with ben's perception of her sadness #and there's some banter in there! lol #hope you like! #ask #answered #mine #ben x devi #never have i ever

[amerrierworld]

Babysitter (pt 9)

Thor (Ragnarok) - fanfiction

Pt 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 

Summary: A Loki interlude.

Characters: Hela, Loki

Word Count: 2,111

Warnings: Idk, swearing?

Loki was incredibly annoyed at the current situation. 

He’d woken up on a random, clunky spaceship with a pounding head and a bruised neck. He remembered the world going blank and being quite certain that he’d been dead until, frustratingly so, his lungs gasped for the most painful breath he’d ever taken. 

A janky pirate ship had snatched him from floating in space amongst the debris, stripped him of his armour -no doubt to sell or melt down into other knick knacks- and left him in the back amongst the cargo. They’d presumed he was dead, so when he had woken up, they had a bit of a shock. 

Not a word was comprehensible, Loki couldn't understand whatever gibberish language they spoke, so he ignored them and shuffled to their food supply. That got him a whack on his back from a whip and a kick to the back of the knees. 

Trying to take back his armour also earned him a few bruises. They didn’t seem very dangerous, but quite a nuisance. 

Amongst the cargo he found familiar debris that struck an icy chord inside Loki. There were piles of Asgardian clothing- ripped and filthy, but Asgardian nonetheless. Bags with very few belongings, and metal scraps of the ship they had been on. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the remainder of the ship of refugees was probably lost. When the pirates began to beat him again for rummaging through their stuff, a rusty old pipe amongst the stolen goods helped quiet them down immensely. 

With his kidnappers knocked out, Loki scarfed down what measly rations they had and set course for Earth at light speed -well, the closest speed they got to light speed which was more like a quick paced jog. 

He tied up the crew and tossed them in the back, and lounged in the cockpit as the ship traveled on autopilot, picking scraps of food from between his teeth. 

Communications on this ship were absolute garbage, he concluded. There was barely any signal and he couldn’t figure out where the closest planet was. So, he took a nap, ate some more food, and tried not to think too much about the harrowing experience of Thanos choking him to death.

Hours later, they entered a very familiar atmosphere. Loki let the ship crash-land, grabbed a bag of few supplies and hopped out just before they hit the ground. 

He marched on through the thicket of trees where they landed. Angry shouts that were no doubt curse words echoed from the smoking ship as he left them behind and tried to gather his bearings. 

An old cabin was the first building he saw. With a rusty dagger at the ready, he inspected the home around the back, looking for a vehicle he could take, something to get him moving faster than his legs, when suddenly a high pitched shriek nearly shattered his eardrums.

A young girl, no older than six, was staring at him with big brown eyes. Rain boots covered in mud, an aged stuffy in her hands. Loki put his finger to his lips, dreading that he was going to have to kill the girl before she gave him away or screamed bloody murder. 

“Daddy! There’s an Avenger in the yard!” she sped off towards a shed, where there was a light on inside. Loki’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. Whatever outcome he was expecting, this was by far the worst. 

“I’m not- fuck.”

He shoved the dagger away and out of sight and stomped towards the shed, fuming with annoyance. He was about to go off at the man for letting his daughter talk to random strangers and how he certainly was not an Avenger, but the man in question had a large saw in hand and about 200 pounds of muscle to carry, so he snapped his mouth shut. 

“Oh, hello there,” he said, his daughter bouncing about the workshop. “What brings one of you all the way out here?”

“And where exactly is out here?” Loki asked.

“Canada! What, you superheroes never been to Canada before? Always hanging around New York, eh? Are you taking a trip or something?”

“No. I, uh, crash-landed here.”

“From space?” the girl piped up, gawking.

“Yes, from space,” Loki said through gritted teeth. “Fighting angry aliens.”

“I told you, Daddy! He’s a hero!”

“I bet you’re trying to find your way to America, then? Lord knows why, there’s all kinds of weird things happening around town nowadays.”

“What do you mean?”

“Half the world’s gone! Poof! Just like that, some alien business I bet.”

“Are you going to save us from them?” his daughter asked again. Loki sighed.

“I’ll try my best. Now, can you please show me how to get to New York as fast as possible?”

The lumberjack’s husband took Loki and his daughter in his jeep and drove a merry long way to the nearest airport. On the way, the little girl asked him all sorts of questions about the Avengers, that he could only half-answer.

“Is it true Thor is super powerful?”

“Well. He's not that powerful. He just uses a hammer. Anyone with a hammer can use it as a weapon and suddenly be considered powerful.”

“I wish I had a super powerful hammer. Then my brothers would stop teasing me so much.”

“Hey,” her second father softly scolded.

“They’re mean!”

“Sibling feuds? I know the feeling,” Loki muttered.

“Do you have siblings, Mr. Avenger?”

“Sure do,” he smiled wryly. “Absolute bullies.”

“Me too!”

“Hey now, let our guest settle down a bit,” her dad said. “She gets a little excited around new people, so sorry.”

“It’s no problem.”

“The local airport’s just up here. It’ll take you to Detroit, and then you gotta get a connection flight to New York.”

“Thank you,” Loki said, genuinely.

“Why are you going to New York, Mr. Avenger?”

“To find my siblings,” Loki sighed. “At least, one of them should still be there.”

“But they’re mean to you?”

“Yeah,” Loki pondered as the car came to a stop. “But they’re family. I suppose.”

-

A few cunning lies and disguises later, Loki was suddenly landing in New York, amidst chaos. It had been a few days since he’d woken up, and apparently a few days since what they call the ‘Blip’. Humans clearly don’t like having their realities altered. 

Your home was abandoned. Alfred didn't even greet Loki at the door, and no amount of pulling and prying opened it for him. The lights were off, and he feared the worst.

It wasn’t until he was in the streets and overhead muttering about some crazy goth lady terrorizing a nearby street that Loki thought he had finally found something.  

He marched down the street until, to his surprise, he found Hela sitting hunched on the side walk, scowling and daring anyone to come close to her. She looked incredibly tired and disheveled, but her eyes were clear and angry, and recognized her idiot brother immediately. 

“What the hell brought you back here?” Hela snarled. 

“A toddler’s wisdom, if you’ll believe it,” Loki said, ignoring her glare as he sat down next to her. 

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks. So do you.”

Hela grumbled. 

“Have you eaten?”

“Since when did you become Mother? I don't need your help.”

“Really?” Loki picked up a filthy scoop from a pile of three ice cream tubs that were fully devoured. He dangled it from his fingertips for a moment, pulling a face. “I think you do.”

“You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Glad to see you too, sister.”

Silence. Hela really did look like shit, Loki noted. Her hair was mussed, and there were rips and broken pieces in her armour, reminiscent of the time they’d met. She had to be weak not to bother fixing it with her powers, or was just too preoccupied to even think to fix it. 

“Where’s Y/N?” Loki asked. 

“Beats me.”

“Did you kill her?”

Hela’s eyes snapped to his, a sudden fire in them. “How dare you say that?”

“Well, her home is abandoned and no one answered the door, and you’re here  cowering like a criminal. One makes conclusions.”

Something changed in her expression, and she turned her body to face him. “Abandoned?”

Loki frowned, “yes. Didn't you know?”

“No- I.. I’ve been here, the last time I saw her...” 

Hela jumped to her feet, nearly kicking Loki in the process. “That bastard, he took her, didn’t he? Him and his awful, forsaken pieces of shit he calls friends.”

“Who?”

“Our darling brother,” she spat. “He came in and- and threatened me, and then took her from me.”

She paced in front of him, green fire trailing behind her heels, hot with anger. She had expected you to come find her, take her back to your home, make her feel safe. But when you never came she had assumed you had abandoned her. Now, knowing Thor had taken you instead, filled her with rage.

“Where does your little posse hang out, hm? Some supposed secret lair? A great big castle in the sky?”

Loki blinked at her, at her sudden outbursts, at the scared glances from passerbys, and didn’t know what to say.

“Fine then, I’ll get her myself,” she growled, turning away from him. 

Loki nearly let her walk away, let her walk into whatever doom she was getting  herself into, but with a groan and a mad realization, he knew she was the only one he could rely on right now.

“Wait,” he said, reluctantly, hurrying after her and grabbing her arm. “You can’t just go running off. Tell me what happened.”

Hela spat at his feet. “I don’t need to tell you anything.”

“You care about her, don't you? Y/N? Why else would you want to ‘rescue’ her from our brother?”

“Be silent,” she hissed.

“No, no, I’m right, aren’t I? You care for her, but you messed up, and now you have no one on your side. That’s why you left, and that’s why Thor had to take her.”

Hela yanked her arm away before Loki could see her face, but he knew what she felt; remorse, and loss. 

“Tell me.”

And so, reluctantly, knowing she had no other choice, Hela sat him down, this time on an actual park bench rather than the ground. She told him what had happened, how her mistrust had turned to affection for you, and how Thanos had destroyed everything in the end, and how the Avengers had fought her out of fear.

“I know the feeling,” Loki agreed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, watching an elderly lady feed a bunch of pigeons as if nothing drastic had happened to the world the past few days. 

“And now I don't know where she is, and she probably hates me, but who am I to blame her for that?”

“If I know anything about Y/N, is that she cares about everyone, but it takes a lot more to win her love. She doesn’t hate you. She’s just afraid. I mean, you did after all break her window and run off into nowhere.”

Hela stayed quiet, made an annoyed sound in her throat, and looked away.

“I’m starving, how did you get all that ice-cream? Why not an actual meal? Or were you just eating your feelings?”

“Y/N doesn’t like it when I kill people, so it was either massacre the street or steal their dairy products,” Hela bristled. 

“Fair enough.”

“Now what, hm? You come out here, seemingly from the dead, chastise me for messing up, and now judge my diet? What do you really want, Loki?”

“Not sure, to be perfectly honest,” Loki said. “I thought I was dead, and then I wasn’t. Frankly, my priorities are shifting.”

“And what is your current priority?”

“Getting you back to Y/N so you stop moping around and fix this.”

“And how do you suppose we do that?”

Loki grinned, standing up. His armour shimmered and regained its full glamour; horned helmet and deep green cloak. 

“Taking notes from me, are we?” Hela grumbled. Loki glared at her.

“I was wearing this look long before you got here. Now, get up, we’re going to infiltrate the Avengers and give you your romantic happily-ever-after so you stop being such a pain in everyone’s neck.”

“You think we’ll just be able to get in? You really are as mad as Father was.”

“I’ve broken into quite a few places over the years, I’ll have you know. I’m the God of Mischief after all.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” Hela stood, her own armour strengthening again. 

“Shut it.”

A/N: Loki is not dead! I know he’s technically alive in an alternate universe or whatever.. but I wanted the Odin Trio to be together sooooo here we are. Let me know what you think!!

taglist: @midnight-lestrange​​ @cheerfullyvenomous​ @germansarechill​@gaylorrds @amii-nyc​ @waitingfortheendtocome​ @novakitten0901​@marvels-writings​ 

#hela #hela x reader #hela/reader #hela x you #hela odinsdottir #thor #thor ragnarok #thor ragnarok fanfiction #loki #loki odinsin #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #cate blanchett #tom hiddleston #best siblings amirite #wlw #lgbt #merry writes

[hale-13]

Zero Days Without Incident

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 20 Prompt - Defiance

The ‘Days Without Incident’ sign in Tony Stark’s private workshop has nothing to do with engineering or science mishaps and all to do with a bet between him and a certain Spiderling.

Words: 1783, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan

TW: Stabbing

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“Peter you have thirty minutes until your curfew,” Karen warned him, already plotting a course home and throwing it up on his HUD.

It was a balmy spring evening and Peter had spent most of his patrol leisurely swinging through Queens or relaxing on a hammock made from his webs. There had been a few petty crimes he had dealt with, some grand theft bicycle, a cat stuck in a tree but, all in all, he couldn’t really complain. He loved being Spider-Man and helping his neighborhood but it was nice to have a slow day sometimes.

A scream sounded in the distance.

“Spoke too soon,” he mumbled, altering his course and picking up speed. “Can you get me directions K?”

“Of course Peter,” Karen answered, as chirpy and happy as normal, re-routing him away from his apartment and toward the sounds of discourse in the distance. When he dropped in on the scene it seemed to be a mugging in progress and Peter rolled his eyes – didn’t people have anything better to do on a random Tuesday in April? God just seriously rethink your life choices.

“I would say its knife to meet you but I’ve definitely used that pun in the last couple weeks and I don’t want to be accused of not being original,” Peter called down, making both the assailant and victim flinch and look up to where he was perched on the wall above them. “Where did even get that thing? The renaissance fair? Who robs people with a full on dagger anyway? Run out of kitchen knives?” Peter quipped, flipping down and pushing the mugger away with a well placed kick to the arm that made the man stumble back.

“This has nothing to do with you bug,” the man snarled, brandishing the weapon at Peter now and making him roll his eyes. “Don’t get in my way and I won’t have to use this on ya.”

“Spiders are arachnids actually, not bugs” Peter pointed out, shooing the stunned woman out of the alley and on her way out of any potential danger. “And how about you not stab anybody today huh? If you promise to behave I won’t web you to the wall and call the police. Sounds like a fair trade right?”

The man snarled at him with irritation. “You talk too much.”

“So I’ve been told,” Peter agreed easily with a nod. “But what do you say? Ready to give up your life of crime for the straight and narrow?”

“No,” the man grumbled and, with literally no warning, lunged forward and stabbed his knife directly into Peter’s gut.

They both stared at each other in stunned silence before Peter processed the pain with a loud ‘fuck!’.

“You motherfucker,” Peter grunted, backing away to lean against the wall, holding the knife still with one hand so as to not dislodge it. “I can’t believe you stabbed me!”

“I thought you would dodge! You always dodge!” The man said, reaching up both hands to dig into his hair. “I stabbed Spider-Man what the fuck!”

“God this is just-,” Peter grumbled using his free arm to fire webbing at the guy and secure him to the nearby dumpster. “I’ve gone three weeks without having to go to the MedBay! Three weeks! All I had to do was last one more and then I got to pick the movie at movie night for the next month! God I can’t believe it! Mr. Stark is going to be so insufferable now!”

“You could just… not tell him?” The man asked hopefully, not even bothering to struggle against the webs and Peter blew out a breath as he sank down to sit on the gritty ground – he was starting to feel a little cold and dizzy from either the blood loss or shock, he couldn’t tell which. Not that it mattered, his fierce anger overshadowed everything.

“Not an option,” Peter grunted, leaning his head back and closing his eyes against the helpful countdown timer Karen had started displaying the second Tony had entered the Iron Man armor and started jetting to him. “He already knows.” Curse the Baby-monitor Protocol! He and Ned would need to remove it again…

“He track you or something?” The man asked questioningly, head quirked to the side in obvious curiosity.

“Or something,” Peter agreed.

“That’s wack man,” he said. “An invasion of privacy. A, uh… violation of your constitutional rights as a free American!”

“Do you honestly think Tony Stark cares about an something as simple as an invasion of privacy? I’m lucky he hasn’t microchipped me yet,” Peter pointed out. Or, at least, he didn’t think Tony had microchipped him. He’d have to check that and remove it post haste if he found something.

“Dude,” knife guy said commiserating and Peter had to fight the eye roll. Of course the person who stabbed him felt remorseful now.

“I know,” Peter agreed, peering down at his side to look at where the knife was embedded into him. He was pretty good around blood as long as it wasn’t his own and, looking at the way his suit was slick and blood was beginning to pool under his thighs in a puddle made Peter lightheaded so he closed his eyes again. “He’s probably going to be pretty pissed at you by the way,” Peter warned. “He has pretty good lawyers so I wouldn’t have high hopes of getting out of this without jail time.”

The man groaned and Peter just shrugged. Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time and all that – also don’t stab people and leave them to the ministrations of their helicopter mentors. Same thing really. The sound of repulsers neared and Peter braced himself – he wasn’t looking forward to dealing with this.

“I guess that we can change the ‘Days Without Incident’ sign back to zero eh Spiderling?” Tony teased as he landed in the mouth of the alley, disengaging his suit and walking over to kneel next to Peter. “You were doing so good too – your longest streak ever in fact.”

“Don’t remind me,” Peter hissed as Tony prodded around the wound carefully with a pre-gloved hand. “Can you not touch that?”

“No can do buddy,” Tony said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “Gotta anchor it in so it doesn’t fall out on the ride back. Happy’s on his way to pick us up.”

“Oh great,” Peter groused, letting Tony lean him forward a little so he could start wrapping roll gauze around the knife. “He loves to complain when I get blood on the seats.”

“Only when you get impaled,” Tony said brightly, pulling the gauze tight almost vindictively and making Peter wince. “Wouldn’t want to deprive him now would we?”

“You could just let me bleed out and die here,” Peter suggested seriously. “Since my life is basically over now anyway.

“You’re such a dramatic little shit,” Tony groused, tying off the gauze and levering Peter up off the ground to slump into his side for the extra support. “Now say ‘goodbye’ to your friend, he won’t be seeing the real world for a long, long time,” Tony’s voice had an edge of steel as he said this, dragging Peter to the end of the alley and ignoring the muggers ‘Aw man, c’mon!” as they passed. Peter just shrugged a ‘what can you do?” and wiggled his fingers in a facsimile of a wave as he was pulled away.

Happy, to his credit, was efficient and must have already been in the area because he was quick to pull up with a surly look already cemented onto his face as he surveyed where Peter was leaning into Tony and dribbling blood onto the sidewalk in large, heavy droplets. “I already called the cleaning crew,” he told them through the open window. “They’ll be here before the police to scrub up any possible radioactive DNA.”

“Best forehead of security ever,” Tony crooned lovingly as he carefully situated Peter onto the pile of towels Happy had put into the backseat to soak up the blood and keep it off his leather seats. Happy glared at the both of them in the rearview mirror before rolling up the partition. Tony snorted in undisguised mirth.

“How you feeling kiddie?” He asked as he peeled Peter’s mask from his sweaty face. “Not going to pass out on me again right?”

“Uh…” Peter groaned, squeezing his eyes shut tight to stop the spinning and grey dots that were clouding his vision. “No promises. Sorry.” Tony just let out a put upon sigh like he expected as much and pushed Peter to lay down across the seats, grabbing one of the extra towels to press tightly around the knife and making Peter let out a whining moan at the pressure. “Yeah I might pass out,” he said faintly as his vision started to tunnel.

“Go on then,” Tony said, running a hand through Peter’s damp curls and smoothing them away from his face. “At least you don’t sass me when you’re unconscious.” Peter felt the man lift his legs to slid a few wadded up towels underneath… like that would actually help keep him awake.

“Rude,” Peter grumbled before losing his grip on reality – he trusted Tony to take care of things for now.

——————————————

“I hate this movie,” Peter grumbled groggily, as he pulled himself awake some time later. He was lying in one of the beds in the MedBay, attached to a blood transfusion and with a thick padding of gauze on his abdomen. Tony, seated next to him and munching on popcorn, just sent him a shit eating grin and held up the whiteboard that had been hanging in his workshop displaying ‘Days Without Incident’ with a large 0 written under it in obnoxious red ink.

“This is such bullshit,” Peter said petulantly, picking at the tape holding the IV in place. “I can’t escape! Go watch your garbage movie somewhere else.”

“Excuse me you brat,” Tony said imperiously. “The Breakfast Club is a cult classic thank you very much and besides,” he continued, offering Peter the bowl of popcorn, “someone clearly has to educate you on good movies.”

“I’m going back to sleep,” Peter said, flicking a kernel of popcorn playfully at his mentor (and missing damn – he must be on drugs) and letting his tired eyes slip closed again.

“Sore loser,” he heard Tony tease as he fell asleep and that did it. When he won their next bet they were marathoning the whole Star Wars series from beginning to end, including all of the Clone Wars and the Mandalorian, and he didn’t care what Mr. Stark said.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump20 #Prompt: Defiance #irondad #spider man #Summer of Whump 2021

[recurring-polynya]

Tokusatsu Au where Rukia plays the lead actress in a superhero action show. Renji plays one of the villains and they are The most popular ship in the fandom. Bonus points if Orihime plays the main villain and loves every second of it.

This was the very first prompt I got, and I fell in love. Unfortunately, aside from a brief period of being grotesquely fascinated with Power Rangers as teen, I know almost nothing about tokusatsu. I did as much research as I could and I attempted to watch an episode of Kamen Rider, but my eyes glazed over halfway through. Anyway, please forgive my inaccuracies, I wrote this with my heart.

ao3 | ff.net

🏍    ⚡   🎬

“Uh, looks like we’re almost out of time,” the panel moderator for “High-Spirited Battle Clairvoyant Tomoe!: A Sneak Peak at Season 5” declared, “but would you be willing to take just a few audience questions?”

Head Screenwriter Kurosaki Ichigo glanced at Leading Actress Kuchiki Rukia out of the corner of his eye, and she gave a tiny nod.

“Yeah, sure!” he replied.

There was already a young woman waiting at the microphone, practically vibrating with anxiety. She was wearing a t-shirt that had ZabiTo4Ever!! handwritten in marker on it. Rukia knew, deep down in her bones, what the question was going to be.

“Hi, yes, hello, big fan of your work! My question is: are Tomoe and Zabimaru going to kiss this season?”

“No,” Rukia started to say.

“As you probably know,” Ichigo said loudly on top of her, “the show holds close to the core plot points of Kuna-sensei’s manga, although, because of her minimalist style, we do expand a lot of the dialogue and filler scenes. She has said in several interviews that High-Spirited Battle Clairvoyant Tomoe! is not a romance manga, so the odds of Tomoe and Zabimaru ever kissing on screen are very, very low.”

The young woman stared at Ichigo grumpily. “Does this also count Zabimaru’s secret college student identity, Satonako Takeru?”

Ichigo stared back at her. “Yes. It does.”

The next question came from a person wearing a full suit of HellKnight’s plasma armor made out of overlapping plates of cardboard. Rukia was kind of impressed by it. She wondered if he could sit down.

“Hi, Kurosaki-sensei, I am a huge fan of your work,” a voice emanated from deep within the cardboard. “I was wondering if you are influenced at all by fanworks, and if Episode 73: Pride is on the Line!: The Bake Sale Must Go On! was based in any way on the classic fanfiction, ‘Tell Me All Your Best Lies’? It’s the top story by kudos in the ZabiTo tag, which I might point out is the most popular shipping category on AO3.”

Ichigo cleared his throat gently. “I am contractually not allowed to read fanfiction, although I do enjoy fanart! There are some incredibly talented artists in the fandom, although for some reason, no one ever wants to draw pictures of Lead Screenwriters.”

“I’ll draw you, sleeping on the set like you always do,” Rukia offered, and that got a pretty big laugh. Rukia’s Tumblr of behind-the-scenes doodle comics was beloved among the fandom.

The next question was from a nonbinary person wearing a big poufy skirt and a hairstyle that would make their make-up and hair guru, Yumichika, sit up and take notice. “Hi, this is a question for Kuchiki-san! If the show is going to roughly keep pace with the manga, as it has done up until now, you should be shooting the storyline where Tomoe and Queen Bloodbuzz switch bodies later this year. I was wondering if you could comment on how you feel about filming that storyline?”

Finally! A good one! “Yes!” Rukia nodded eagerly. “I don’t usually like to speak for my fellow cast members, but Orihime and I are beyond excited about playing each other. We’ve been studying each other’s mannerisms and practicing already! Does anyone want to hear my Queen Bloodbuzz cackle?” She wagged her eyebrows as the audience cheered. “Here goes-- bwaHaHaHaHAHAHAHAAHAAAHAAAAAAAA!”

“Bonechilling,” Ichigo commented dryly as the audience erupted.

“Amazing, Kuchiki-san!” the moderator exclaimed. “I think there is time for one more, but this will be the last question!”

A tall girl in a full set of High-Spirited Battle Clairvoyant Tomoe motorcycle leathers stepped to the microphone. She was holding a notebook. “Hello!” she warbled. “In a 2020 interview with the Psychics and Sidekicks podcast, Abarai Renji was asked about his opinion on ZabiTo as a ship, and he replied,” she consulted her notebook, “‘Tomoe is such a cool lady and talented Battle Clairvoyant, and she always follows her heart and stays true to herself. I think that Zabimaru can’t help but be impressed with her, even though they’re enemies, and I always try to roll that into our on-screen interactions.’ I know that in the past you’ve refused to comment on the ship, but I was wondering if you had any thoughts on, y’know, his thoughts?”

“Well, he’s correct, of course, Tomoe is very cool and admirable,” Rukia replied, which drew a few laughs, although it seemed like the audience was leaning forward in anticipation of her answer. “Like I said, I don’t like to speak for other cast members. I’ll be doing a big cast panel with Abarai and Inoue and Matsumoto and Ukitake tomorrow afternoon, and I hope you all can make it! See you then!”

The moderator thanked them enthusiastically, and then Ichigo and Rukia slipped out the back guest entrance.

“Evasive as always, Kuchiki,” Ichigo teased.

“Whatever,” Rukia sniffed. “The higher ups say we’re not supposed to comment on stuff like that, and I was not commenting. By the way, how many secret fanfic accounts are you up to? Four?”

“It’s only three!” Ichigo paused. “I wrote that fanfic the guy brought up.”

“Of course you did,” Rukia sighed. “I do blame you personally for the popularity of the damn ship.”

“Me? Blame Kuna for making up two such sexy, emotionally constipated dumbasses!” Ichigo defended.

“Also, it’s not Ichigo’s fault that you and Abarai have insane chemistry.”

Rukia spun around, grinning. “Orihime!”

Rukia’s two co-stars, Inoue Orihime and Abarai Renji, the portrayers of Tomoe’s demonic archnemeses, stood in the hallway behind them.

“We sat in on your panel!” Orihime beamed. “You two were brilliant!”

“Don’t worry,” Renji added. “We were incognito.”

“Incognito” was relative, Rukia supposed, when you were at Tokyo’s biggest tokusatsu

convention.

Orihime was wearing a Zabimaru outfit so detailed that she probably could have won a prize down at the cosplay hall. She had the gravity-defying ponytail, the eyeliner, the insane widow's peak (complete with forehead tatts), the fangs, the motorcycle boots. The paper mache snake skull helmet was a little lopsided, but it was charming. She had her top zipped a little higher than canon, but that was forgivable, too.

Renji had taken the opposite tack of looking as much like a normal person-- or at least a normal Battle Clairvoyant Tomoe superfan-- as possible. Relaxed fit jeans and an oversized hoodie de-emphasized his ultra-fit physique. He was wearing a t-shirt with a very dramatic rendering of Orihime that said “Queen Bloodbuzz can step on me!” and a ball cap with the logo of Seireitei University, the fictional college Tomoe and Takeru attended.

“You think you’re in disguise,” Rukia pointed out, “but there are thousands of teen girls in this place with entire Tumblrs dedicated to your stupid face when you’re out of costume.”

Renji cocked an eyebrow at her. “You underestimate me, Rukia. I have bought… new sunglasses.” With a flourish, he whipped out a pair of the dorkiest wayfarers she’d ever seen, and flipped them onto his face. “I’ve disappeared! Who am I? Where am I?”

“You look really great, Orihime,” Ichigo said, his cheeks coloring a little bit. “Did you get Uryuu or Yumichika to help you with that costume?” In his continuing theme of doing things he wasn’t supposed to, Ichigo had finally started dating Orihime on the downlow around the time they finished up filming last season. It had done absolutely nothing for how shy he still got around her. They were, in Rukia’s opinion, cute as hell.

“Oh, no, that would be cheating!” Orihime replied, wagging a finger at him. “Well…maybe I did cheat, just a tiny bit. Renji helped me make the helmet and he held up references for me while I was painting on the tattoos.”

“Only the forehead ones,” Renji quickly added.

“He wouldn’t even offer feedback on my booby tattoos!” Orihime frowned. She leaned forward. “Rukia, how do they look?”

Ichigo turned even redder.

“Perfect, as in all you do!” Rukia replied loftily.

“What’s everyone got coming up next?” Renji asked. “I was thinking of slipping out and trying to pick up some real coffee.”

“I’m judging a villainess-themed cosplay competition,” Orihime chirped. “But I’m dying for a blueberry caramel iced latte. Renji, my henchman, pleeeeease!”

“Of course, my liege,” Renji replied in his Zabimaru voice.

It’s not like it had been a hard decision to accept the role of the motorcycle-riding, badass heroine of one of the most popular manga of the last decade, but it had turned out to be one of the best decisions of Rukia’s life. not just her career. Aside from a few of the money-obsessed executives, she liked nearly everyone in the cast and crew, but the fact that the fact that the ruthless, homicidal, literally Hell-spawned villains of the show were played by the two sweetest marshmallow people she had ever met just took the cake. Renji and Orihime had already known each other from some voicework they had done previously, and their excitement at working together on a live-action project had infected the entire cast from the start. Rukia wasn’t sure, but she strongly suspected that Renji was the one who had hyped Orihime up to ask Ichigo out.

“I have a writers’ workshop I’m moderating this afternoon, and I wanted to review the writing samples people sent in,” Ichigo said, scratching the back of his head. “I’d love to stop by that cosplay contest, though, at least for a few minutes.”

“You’ll be needing caffeine, too, then, eh?” Renji offered. “Hot, black, and in the largest cup they make, as usual?”

“Ugh, you’re the best,” Ichigo groaned. “You wanna power-up this season? Costume update? You know what? Maybe I’ll just have you defeat Tomoe once and for all, no one likes her anyway.”

“C’mon, you know I’m the world’s number one Tomoe simp, don’t do that!” Renji laughed.

Rukia rolled her eyes. “I’m free and I could use some fresh air. Besides, it’s going to take all your dumb muscles just to carry Kurosaki’s vat of coffee back here.”

“Cool!” Renji proclaimed. “We’ll be back soon!”

“Thanks, Renjiiiii!” Orihime waved.

“You need to stop off and put on a disguise?” Renji asked.

“No point in it, I always get recognized,” Rukia sighed, pulling her sunglasses out of her purse anyway.

“Here,” Renji said, plunking his hat on her head. “Maybe this will help.”

“Thanks,” Rukia replied, and then did a double take. “Whaaaaaat is on your head?”

“Shut up!” Renji laughed. He usually shaved his head when they were filming, because it made it easier to deal with the make-up and wigs, but since they were between seasons, he’d grown his hair out into a short, tousled mop of reddish-brown waves. He looked, for the lack of a better word, dreamy. “I shot a movie over the summer, and they wanted me to look softer.”

Rukia looked at him over the top of her sunglasses. “You didn’t tell me you were doing a movie!”

“Oh, it was just a little indy romcom thing. I wasn’t sure it was gonna pan out, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“You were in a romcom? You’re kidding me!” They ducked out of a side door of the convention center into the bright sunshine.

“Yeah, it’s about a guy who goes to the gym to try to get ripped to impress a girl, and makes friends with me, this nice, already ripped dude who gives him lifting tips and encourages him a bunch. By the end of the movie, it turns out we have crushes on each other.”

“Oh, no, that sounds really cute, actually!”

“It was written by a woman who graduated from one of Ichigo’s writing workshops. The script was really snappy and Ichigo thought having someone like me as the gym guy would give it just a bit of campy cachet. You know what a good sense he’s got for stuff like that.”

“That was cool of you to go out on a limb a little,” Rukia replied.

Renji rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d been wanting to try something like that for a while, actually.”

Rukia blinked. “You aren’t… you aren’t thinking of leaving the show, are you?”

“Huh? No. No! No, the show means the world to me, I would never. But… it’s not gonna run forever, y’know?”

“I would have guessed you’d want to be a big action star or something!” Rukia said, throwing a few air punches. “That’s my dream!”

Renji stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “Yeah, that’s what I thought I wanted when I first got into acting. I’d read the Tomoe manga, and I thought playing Zabimaru would be a good jumping-off point, besides just being a cool character overall.”

“Is that… not true?” Rukia frowned.

“Oh, I mean, I guess so! I didn’t really know about the fandom, though and… to be honest, I’m kinda into the idea that there are all these fans who think I’m complex and redeemable?”

Rukia regarded him out of the corner of her eye. “They just want to fix you.”

“Maybe! Ichigo made me read this one fanfic that was eight thousand words of the reader getting sick and Zabimaru making them soup? And feeding them the soup? I still haven’t decided how I feel about it.”

“How does he have time to find these things? Does he even sleep?”

“Anyway, it doesn’t hurt to be well-rounded and it was fun. I’m still mostly an action guy, but I wouldn’t mind doin’ something with a romantic subplot. A period drama or something like that. I look pretty good in hakama, you know.”

“I bet you do,” Rukia laughed. She squinted at him, but his expression was unreadable behind the shades. Renji didn’t have the classic leading man looks, not like her ridiculously famous older brother, but she could definitely see him as the best friend, the B-plot romance, with his cute, messy hair and that big doofy grin.

“By the way, I’m sorry you had to field that question about me spilling my romantic sensibilities on that podcast.”

Rukia laughed. “You didn’t even answer the question, either! These people are relentless!”

Renji stopped at a street corner and peered down the various possible directions they could go. “Which way feels like it might have a coffee shop?”

“You didn’t have one in mind before we left? I thought you knew where we were going!”

“Nah, I just like to go out and see what there is.”

“I can look up a map,” Rukia said, reaching in her bag for her phone.

“Let’s just go this way,” Renji said, stepping out into the street in the direction that had the WALK light. Rukia sighed and had to scramble to catch up with him.

“So, what do you think about it?”

“Huh?” Rukia asked. “Think about what?”

“Our ship. ZabiTo.”

“I can’t believe you just said that word out loud. And you know we’re not supposed to give our opinion on it!”

“Aw, c’mon, we’re not supposed to give public statements on our opinions. I don’t think there’s any harm in talking between ourselves. We’re in disguise, even.”

“‘Disguise’,” Rukia sniffed.

“You don’t like it, I can tell.”

“He’s a bad guy! Everyone always talks about chemistry, and that may be true, but I just don’t think that Tomoe could ever get over his acts of violence and cruelty.”

“Queen Bloodbuzz is cruel. Zabimaru is not cruel.”

“Okay, that’s fair, but still. He’s kidnapped just about all of Tomoe’s friends and or turned them into monsters at one time or another. He’s always setting Karakura Town on fire or flooding it with magic lizard goo. He ruined the sports festival.”

“Maybe the sports festival deserved to be ruined,” Renji muttered under his breath.

“Okay, you’ve got a point on that one,” Rukia admitted.

“It’s really clear though, that he’s got some agenda beyond just simping for Queen Bloodbuzz--”

“The simping for Queen Bloodbuzz is the most relatable thing about him, to be honest.”

“Granted. But, what if he’s got a good reason for everything he does, actually? What if he’s doing all of this against his own moral code as a means of infiltrating Hell itself and getting himself into a position of trust so that he can bring down the Lords of Hell from the inside?”

Rukia slipped her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose. “Does Kuna give you Zabimaru spoilers?” The reclusive creator High-Spirited Battle Clairvoyant Tomoe! was only barely involved with the television show, but she did privately meet with each of the cast members about once a year. Most of Rukia’s meetings consisted of Kuna giving her constructive criticism on her battle poses.

“No, mostly we practice sneering,” Renji replied. “But I gotta play the guy, so I gotta think about this, you know, what motivates him? I mean, you’re probably right, it would never work out. But unlike Tomoe, whose principles would call for her to ignore any attraction she has to him, Zabimaru has the freedom to pine for her, perhaps because his love is futile and he doesn’t think he deserves it anyway.”

“That’s kinda dark, dude,” Rukia frowned.

“Yes, well, that is the kind of character acting that netted me the 2019 Nickelodeon Kids’ Choice Best Villain Award, Foreign Language Category.”

“That’s literally what’s going through your head when you’re shouting that if I can’t make some sick motorcycle jump, you’ll turn all my friends into stuffed animal versions of themselves?”

“No, of course not! At those times I’m thinking about how much I love my job. OH! and what is that I see!” Renji struck an extremely Zabimaru pose. “A MISTER DONUT!”

“My hero!” Rukia exclaimed, unable to resist an opportunity to shout dramatically. “I’m sorry I doubted you!”

“I think we should get some donuts, too. Orihime loves donuts,” Renji declared.

“Oh, for sure,” Rukia agreed. She was thoughtful for a moment. It would be easy to move on to a different subject, the subject being donuts, but she wasn’t happy with leaving the last conversation hanging. “Look, Renji, just because I don’t like the dumb ship, you know that’s not a reflection on you, right?”

“Huh?” Renji replied. “You mean you don’t mind if I like it?”

“Well… I mean, I don’t, I guess, but what I really meant was, er… we joke a lot, but Tomoe and Zabimaru are just parts, y’know? Just because I don’t think Zabimaru isn’t good boyfriend material doesn’t mean I…” Rukia trailed off, suddenly realizing what she was saying. “Um. What I mean is. You’re very nice and probably one of my favorite people I’ve ever worked with and if someone I knew wanted to ask you out, I would definitely encourage them to, A+ guy, I’d say, probably would make a great boyfriend.”

Renji pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead and regarded her for a long moment. “For the record, Kuchiki, I think that both you and Tomoe would make excellent girlfriend material.” While Rukia stood there and gaped like a fish, he turned and pushed open the door to the coffee shop. “Ichigo likes crullers and Orihime always wants the most colorful thing they’ve got. Do you know what you want?”

“I need to think about it,” Rukia squeaked. She wasn’t talking about donuts.

🏍    ⚡   🎬 

Bonus: Here are my notes from when I was making up the show. I hope this wasn’t too confusing!

High-Spirited Battle Clairvoyant Tomoe!

based on a manga by reclusive mangaka Kuna Mashiro

Head Screenwriter: Kurosaki Ichigo

🌟 Starring: 🌟

Kuchiki Rukia as Yukimura Tomoe, a spunky college student who can see ghosts and fights demons from Hell! She rides a motorcycle!

Inoue Orihime as Queen Bloodbuzz, a Lady of Hell, who seeks to gather energy from the Living Realm so that she can become the Supreme Ruler of Hell. Very aesthetic. Much bees.

Abarai Renji as Zabimaru, Queen Bloodbuzz’s ruthless henchman. He leads a double life as fierce-looking, but gentle-hearted college student Satonaka Takeru! What is his long game??

#renji's birthday 2k21 #my writing #this was really hard to write actually #because i had to make up SO MUCH STUFF #i hate making up stuff #astute readers will notice that i just recycled rukia and renji's fake names from between tides #i am so in love with this au tho #especially ichigo and his false pretenses ao3 accounts

[argumentl]

The Freedom of Expression Ep 52 - Kami's avatar plan & Momotaro Dentetsu!? The aim behind the huge spread of conspiracy theories, and related Youtube videos.

K: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru with this week's episode of The Freedom of Expression.  Joe san, Tasai san, welcome.

K: (To Tasai) You're wearing that.

T: I really like this, I wear it to all sorts of places.

K: Really?

T: Yes. Girls tell me I'm cool when I wear it, it made me feel kinda cocky. Haha

J: You should be!

K: When I saw this (on Tasai) I didn't realise what it was, I didn't remember it. Haha, like was this really ours?

T: When I first heard about this, I heard that Kaoru had made it with great detail, haha.

K: Well, speaking of Dir en grey, we've decided to release a new single.

*applause*

K: At this point it will be in Spring.

J: I see. I can't wait for it.

K: The song will be called 'Oboro'

J: How are you progressing with it?

K: Uh, at the moment we are just starting the mixing..we are at the start of February now.

J: So, like, you can see the finish line already?

K: Hm, well....yeh. We've all finished our parts.

J: Ah, I see. The members' performances are all over.

T: Uh, at the end of year announcement, the talk about the avatars, with Kaoru playing really high up, haha.

Kami: Um...um, are you gonna make a music video for it?

K: Eh?

Kami: You will make a music video, right?

J: Oh, a music video?

Kami: Yeah. Will you make it as an avatar video?

K: Well..we havn't really thought about it yet.

Kami: I am really interested in that, I really liked that idea.

J, T: Ehhh.

K: Thank you.

Kami: I kinda want you to make another one.

K: Oh, for the new song too?

Kami: Yeah, I really want you to make one for the new song.

T: Ah, but you said you havn't thought about that this time?

K: Not at this point, no.

Kami: Why don't you let me do it?

J: Haha

K: Eh? Let Kami make it?

J: Kami, do you have any talent for that type of thing?

Kami: Well, I mean, I reckon I could do it.

T: He reckons he could?

Kami: In my own godly way...I'd like to have a go.

J, T: Ohhh.

Kami: Thats right.

K: Will it work?

T: Haha

J: Yeh, because don't they usually do this type of thing in the workshop?

K: This is a brand new development, right?

T: Yeh, Im pretty surprised too.

Kami: I understand that, but I do think it would be good...like to have it reviewed in the workshop.

T: Ahh, like he wants to raise his reputation.

J: Yeh, but its quite ???*1. Kami, do you have confidence?

Kami:Yes, I do.

J, T: Ohh.

T: He's amazing.

J: Kaoru, he said he's confident?

Kami: Um, it might turn out kinda fun style though.

T: Fun style?

K: Fun style...we don't really have that image though.

J: Right.

K: Well...I'll have to ask the other members.

T, J: Yeh.

Kami: Kaoru, you are the leader, so there's no need to do that.

K: No no no. Its precisely because Im the leader that I have to ask.

J: Haha, yeh, just telling them out of the blue that the god from your own youtube channel will be making an avatar video..they would say thats not a leader!

Kami: No, but say something skillful.

K: Well, I'll just ask them.

T: I'm sorry to say this Kaoru, but I kinda wanna see this happen.

J: Really?!

Kami: A video produced by Kami..what do you think, Joe?

J: Well, it could be scary...

T: Haha.

J: Its not really about something incredible happening, its more like what is gonna come out of the limits of this god.

K: I personally don't have any problem with it, but as for Dir en grey, thats a group decision.

J: Well, yes.

K: It depends on that.

J: So, we'll hand the issue over to you for now to get the other members' approval.

K: Yeh.

Kami: Im being quite brave here, but I also have another request. I've had another idea.

J: You are being brash, aren't you?!

T: He is asking a lot today.

Kami: I thought it might liven up the show a bit.

J: Ahh, ok, go ahead...

Kami: Should we all play Momotaro Dentetsu together?

J, K, T: Momotetsu??

T: Ah, thats a good idea, I'm all for that!

Kami: Lets do it.

T: I really like Momotetsu..

K: Everyone's playing it recently, aren't they?

T: Yeah, its really popular at the moment.

J: I'm sorry, I reacted when he said the name..but I actually don't know what Momotetsu is...

T: Well, its a board game..

K: A board game style video game.

J: Oh right. What is 'tetsu'...like trains?

K: Yes.

T: Do you know Monopoly?

J: Yes, I know that.

T: Its like a train version of Monopoly.

J: Ahh, ok. Well, lets do it! Thats ok. How would we do it?

K: Well, we can think about that later.

J: Yes, ok..but that means its a posibility?

K: Will Kami play too?

Kami: Oh, yes! Thank you!

J: He sounds so happy, haha.

T: Kami, how will you join in with the game?

Kami:.....Yeh, how will I?

J: Yes, you tell us.

Kami:....how would I? I'd have to get some one to do it for me.

K, T: Haha

J: Like a representative of Kami?

Kami: Yeah.

T: Another person that we've never met will come, right? haha. Kami won't have met them, it will be a total stranger.

J: Dubious, right?

K: Ahh, but I havn't played Momotetsu in ages.

T: Ah, in the newest version you get stronger privileges, and its like you can make deliveries freely*2

J: So we are looking towards actually doing this, for now.

K: Well, yeah, its ok. We've got the start of two new plans.

J: Yep, one is a Kami produced avatar video for the new single.

K: Its not really 'produced by' though, more like 'made by'.

T: Making it on his own

J: Yeah, he's making it on his own for us.

K: Its more reassuring that way.

J: Haha, like, not in a collaboration?

K: I approve it of that.

Kami: Im making it on my own, but I don't have any money, so I want to get the money for it from you.

K: No, I can't do that.

J, T: Hahaha

J: He said he wanted to do it himself. He asked you if he could do it! If you want to do it yourself, you have to deal with the cost yourself.

K: This show has zero production cost anyway.

J: Haha, is that right? Thats tough.

T: We finally got a decent mic stand.

K: Yeah, but its kinda been reformed.

J: The mic stand fell over before didn't it? 

K: ???*3

Kami: I don't have any money!

K: Well, it doesn't have to be that high quality.

J: Yeah.

K: He doesn't need a camera though.

J: No. So there are two conditions as for making an avatar vid: one is that Kaoru has to get the permission from the other members, and the other is that Kami has to cover the production costs himself.

*On screen note: Permission was gained from all members in the following days*)

T: Yeah. ????*4, like to show he's made it all himself.

K: Yeh, because if we paid for it, we'd have to approve the whole thing.

J: Oh, yeh, like an official check?

K: Yeah.

J: That would be a bit different. What do you think Kami?

Kami: If I make it, can I sell it?

T: Haha, 'If I make it can I sell it'??

K: No, you cannot. That is that is the biggest rule.

Kami: Oh, please let me sell it!!!

K: That totally depends on how good it is.

J: Right, you might allow it if it was outstanding.

T: Haha

K: Ok, Joe, lets look at today's topic.

J: Yes, 'A monthly income of ¥1million. Chaging tune during game commentary. What is the aim of the massive spread of conspiracy theories, and related Youtube videos?' Well, there is a lot of news surrounding the American Presidential election last year, but a huge amount of conspiracy theories and fake information is spreading even amongst Trump supporters in Japan. Within this are big ones like, 'Trump will unleash martial law, and mass arrests of traitors will begin', 'Nancy Pelosi has been arrested', etc etc. There are even theories that are circulating only in Japan, and which are spreading through Youtube videos and round up sites. Within those, there is one user who brings up such material in the middle of game commentary videos, and can make up to ¥1million per month. The posibility that they are doing it for the advertising revenue cannot be denied. Well, its like, is it ok to spread lies in return for money?... this news questions the 'freedom of expression'.

K: Well, conspiracy theories have been around for ages, havn't they?

J: They always have, yes.

K: But since covid started...there have been...like, a load of theories coming up about it, right?

J: Yeah.

K: I kinda get the sense that a lot of conspiracy  theories about covid have grown to be seen as almost the truth.

T, J: I see.

K: You don't even know whats a conspiracy theory or whats real news now.

J: Well, yeah. In relation to covid, I also don't know what is actually correct. In some sense, there are certain voices that are louder than others, and if you mix in these conspiracy theories, you get this kind of....well, like with these protests in relation to the American election, or even without that, these theories do spread.

K: You kind of watch them in a funny sense to start, but then it feels like they gradually loose power.

J, T: Yeh.

K: There are people who will end up believing them though.

Kami: Um, that game commentator who is talking about conspiracy theories in order to make a profit, I don't like that. I want him to try harder, like, don't be influenced by money.

T: No no no. Kami has been talking about money a lot, haha

J: Yeh, like, 'Can I sell it?' He's only telling other people not to be influenced by money.

Kami: Yeah, gods are influenced by money...gods are. I kinda understand how this guy feels. I can't help it.

J: You can't help it?

Kami: Yep.

J: You can't help it for money?

Kami: Yeah, I take it back, its ok to be influenced by money.

J, K, T: Hahaha

J: Kami, you're weak!

T: That was a quick turnaround.

J: I was pretty shocked that this guy can make ¥1million per month though.

K: Well, if his view count grows...

J: Yeah. 

K: Those numbers would be impossible for this show.

J: Haha, yeah, everyone please help us out with that. Even if we aimed to make ¥1million, conspiracy theories take up a lot of time, right?

T: Yeh, but how about we feature some conspiracy theories?

J: If we will get like this guy, right?

Kami: Ah, lets go with some conspiracy theories!

J, T: Haha

K: There are probably people out there really putting thought into making new conspiracy theories, aren't there?

J, T: Yeah.

K: It sounds pretty difficult. Like, what type of conspiracies would fly?

J, T: Right.

J: ???*5

K: Like Kami's?

J: Kami's conspiracy theories, haha. But it is difficult. Hm, eventually we'll have a 'Freedom of Expression conspiracy theories edition'.

T: Well, lets do more of this kind of stuff.

J: Tokyo Sports loves this kind of thing, doesn't it?

T: Yeah.

J: Do your sales go up when you feature this stuff?

T: Well, not really with conspiracy theories, but we sell at lot when we write about UFOs and stuff. People are really curious about things that are 'unknown'. They really are.

J: Hm.

K: Ok, on that note, lets finish here. Thank you very much.

*1,3,4,5 Couldn't catch/figure out

*2 I've never played Momotetsu so Im not sure if im understanding the explanation right. 

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[lunapwrites]

A Rarity

Someone in the HPFC discord got me thinking about Remus gardening while wearing baby Teddy and talking to him like a little adult (because he so would) and I had to write some domestic in-universe fluff. I wouldn't call this spoilers, exactly, but it's a HC I play with sometimes that has no bearing on where my plot is actually heading lol. Scene below the cut.

"I reckon we're in for a tidy yield this time; what do you think, Ted?"

The baby cooed brightly from his sling, his hair turning as blue as the sky above their heads. Fine days like this were a rarity in the Valleys, and Remus was determined to make the most of it. He tied his hair back, dropping to his knees in the soft soil of the garden with his son tucked snugly into his chest.

"See this? First tomato of the season. Une tomate. Your mam will be thrilled," Remus said dryly, showing the offending fruit to the baby. The little boy's hair had turned a matching shade of red. "Oh! Well done." He pressed a kiss to the baby's hair, smiling widely. "Your mam actually hates tomatoes, she does. But that's alright because I need them for things she does like. Like... I dunno, pizza, or bolognese or something. Couple of curries." He snorted. "Actually, there's a lot of things she likes that use them. Bit silly. But maybe you'll like them. I hope you'll at least try them when you're older. Should try everything at least once."

Remus hummed as he checked the remaining fruits on the vine; the rest were still green.

"Needs some more time, this one. See?" He tilted his body slightly so Teddy could see the unripe tomatoes, blinking up at them with newly green eyes. His eyes. The baby wrinkled his nose, his hair turning the same bright green as the tomato his gaze was fixed on.

"You're getting quite good at this, aren't you now then?" He resisted the urge to tap his son's nose; his hands were already covered in dirt. "Next thing you know you'll be morphing your face into Harry's and mocking him at the table."

They worked like that for some time, Remus keeping up a steady stream of easy chatter, informing his son of all the best ways to grow a variety of vegetables and herbs and showing off each in turn as he harvested. Naming them in three languages. Teddy, for his part, watched with slightly unfocused but still-curious eyes, his hair colour shifting with each new treasure his father showed him.

"We've got some nice leeks coming in now then. That's called cennin in Welsh, but the French call it poireau. Bit stuffy, if you ask me." He pulled one of the onions out of the ground, gently shaking the excess soil off the roots. Teddy giggled, shaking his fists, his hair turning a dark brown. "You like that, eh?"

Remus looked down at the basket of vegetables and herbs, taking inventory and making a mental note to check with Molly if she needed any asparagus. The bloody plant had been producing more than any sane man knew what to do with, and he was running out of ideas.

"Might be I could make that risotto again. Seemed like it was a hit — oh! Careful there," he admonished softly, pulling Teddy's tiny hands away from the fennel greens he'd been attempting to stuff into his mouth. Thus foiled, the baby shoved a tiny fist into his mouth instead. Remus sighed.

"I should probably be discouraging this, but as you're already fond of chewing on your own toes I'm going to let you have this one."

The air was split suddenly by the sound of clanging metal, flapping wings, and vicious swearing; Remus looked up just in time to see Sirius running out of the garage like his hair was on fire, pursued by a large and angry goose.

"Looks like someone got on the wrong side of Moriarty again," Remus whispered conspiratorially to his son. Teddy stared, wide-eyed, his hair a shock of yellow so bright it almost hurt to look at him.

Almost.

Remus hauled himself to his feet, brushing the dirt from his jeans and making sure Teddy hadn't grabbed anything else untoward (he had not).

"Suppose we ought to go rescue him. Your mam will have something to say if she comes home and I've let Pads get eaten by the goose again. Do you remember what we call Moriarty in Welsh?" Teddy made a sort of grunty noise; Remus nodded seriously. "Good effort. He's called gwydd. Or oie, in French."

A long string of expletives echoed out over the yard as Moriarty continued his furious pursuit.

"Don't call him that, though," Remus warned. "Your mam and Pads will have to hide for laughing, and I'll be stuck having to pretend to be cross with you."

Between the five of them — Harry and Ginny included — it was almost a guarantee that Teddy's first word would be something particularly foul. Remus sighed, making his way towards the house, whistling sharply.

As expected, Moriarty came waddling over, acting as though butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Remus pulled a bit of lettuce out of the basket, offering it to the little menace who plucked it cheerfully from his fingers and toddled off, clearly satisfied.

"Don't tell Pads I'm encouraging him," he stage-whispered, and Teddy cooed up at him cheerfully. Moriarty was the only one of their animals that wasn't enamoured with Sirius, having decided that Remus was His Person almost out of spite. It gave Sirius something to do, though, spending hours figuring out how to ward a goose out of his workshop through trial and error. The error, in particular, granted Remus and Dora both endless hours of entertainment.

He stopped at the door, looking out over the garden, the garage where old Baglan's tractor was being repaired. The field where the sheep were grazing. Inside, Sirius was at the kitchen sink, muttering darkly as he washed the motor oil from his hands with the soap that Dora had brought home last week, the one that smelled of oranges and seemed to be working a treat. Dora was due home in an hour, likely full of stories about the newest batch of recruits she was "training." Remus would have called it hazing, but she insisted it was a part of the education that Mad-Eye had given her, and she was intent on keeping his legacy alive. Harry would be working late, bouncing between working at the shop with the twins and trying to find a premises for his own venture — which he still wouldn't divulge any details of to anyone, insisting that the surprise would be worth it. Remus suspected that it was music-related, given Harry's sudden interest in where he'd sourced his record collection.

They'd all worried that after all those years of chaos — of war — they would struggle to settle down. But as always, life surprised them. Things were peaceful, yes, but certainly never boring.

Life was good.

#fanfiction #what if #remus lupin #sirius black #nymphadora tonks #teddy lupin #harry potter #side hinny #ot3 #a different orbit #writing #welsh #french #gardening #geese are bastards #dad remus #talking to babies like people #HEA #possible future #multilingual families #goals