#no one that works there has ever been asked for proof of address

[satoruwiki]

Are you over stripper gojo?

i am… NOT 👹

☆▒ DOUBLE LIFE!➜ ★

minors, ageless and blank blogs dni.

cw: afab!f!reader; suggestive content; not proof read.

w.c: 2.3k

Satoru always had a cover response.

"So, what do you do for a living?" The blonde girl asked, sipping her cocktail— a little too bitter for her taste.

"I'm a teacher, a private teacher, to be exact," he replied, resting his chin on the palm of his hand.

The possible reaction would be bemusement, laughter, thinking he was joking, followed by something along the lines of "didn't think you would be a teacher; you seem more like you work as a model or somewhere in the fashion industry," Satoru had it all memorized.

The most skeptical would narrow their eyes and stare at him like he just said the earth is flat confidently. Satoru would then pull out a white business card, with his name, phone address and 'job' written in Times New Roman font, all uppercase in platinum colour - because Satoru was cunning enough to order himself business cards for these occasions - and hand it to them.

People after that would not question him further; what is there to be asked? The teaching profession is not the most exciting of all— maybe ask him what he teaches, but beyond that, there is nothing; it's the perfect job to cover up his... nocturnal activities.

His cover-up was perfect, steady, almost unbreakable, almost.

Until you came into the picture.

—

"Now, I think I can kind of see you as a teacher, though I'm surprised no talent scout or casting director has ever contacted you to be part of a fashion magazine or commercial," you said, scanning him head to toe. The man before you was a total adonis, tall, handsome, charismatic, charming blue eyes with a smile that could melt any girl's heart; it was hard for you to believe he hadn't ever been the face of a brand or a high fashion's magazine cover, perhaps he worked as a high-end host as a side gig?

"Oh, believe me, I have," Satoru answered, taking a swig of the colourful cocktail, his face contorting into a slight grimace afterwards, "It's just not really my thing, y'know. I don't know if I'm ready to be People's hottest man alive."

"How humble," you snort, taking a swig of your drink yourself. Satoru chuckles in return; the sudden buzz of his phone interrupts your conversation, and he gives you a shy smile. He gestures with his right hand for you to hold on a second, to which you nod; holding his phone with his left, he gets up from his seat and walks away to take the mysterious call. 

After a few minutes, he comes back with a sorry look on his face. You get the vibe that something happened, and the date's probably over. "Sorry, as much as I'd like to stay longer, I can't," he says, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair, "y'know, private teacher things, one of my students needs me for an upcoming competition, gotta teach him to master twinkle twinkle little star on the violin."

Now, you don't like to overthink; however, the thought that the phone call could've been a fake emergency call lingered in your mind after he left, even though he did apologize again through text and supposedly 'hoped' you guys could reschedule for another date, you still thought his sudden departure was weird.

—

"Oh, that sounds like he didn't like you and faked a rain check," Utahime said through the phone.

"You think so?" you replied uncertainly, sounding somewhat sad and disappointed, the corners of your lips forming a pout. "Fuck, this is why I don't go out with guys who know they're cute. They have it over their head and think they're the big deal."

"Well, I told you he looked like a prick when you first showed me his profile."

"All men look like idiots to you, Uta'," you rolled your eyes, putting the call on speaker as you opened your freezer, "That's why you're single."

You heard Utahime gasp through the phone, seemingly offended by your teasing, which made you chuckle a little. "I'm single because I chose to, in case you forgot- What's that sound?"

"Oh, nothing, I'm just going to drown my sorrows in ice cream," you replied casually, closing the freezer door and opening your ice cream, "and watch some mediocre rom-com to distract me from how mediocre my love life is."

"Girl, no. Put that back and start picking an outfit; we're going out."

"Uta, thanks for the invite, but I'm tired. I just had a disappointing date, I don't really feel like going-"

Utahime interrupted you abruptly. "No buts. We are going out. I heard there's a new club that does ladies' nights on Fridays, and it just happens to be Friday. Forget about that damn date, you'll have others coming. Let's go out, yeah?"

You thought about her proposal and, well, she was right, the failed date wasn't that big of a deal, not so much as to spend your night sulking on your sofa eating ice cream. You sighed, putting the ice cream back in its place, "Fine, at what time do we meet?"

—

"I heard the guys here are hot, so much so that some girl's blood pressure went up because of how sexy their dances were, or so I was told," Utahime said in your ear, her voice barely audible over the blasting music.

"You told me we were going to a club," you chided, averting your gaze from the scantily clad men. Geez, were they covered in... oil?

"Club, male strip club, what's the difference? You go to both at night, and there are men in skimpy clothing," Shoko joins and shrugs nonchalantly, not seeing the reason for your apparent embarrassment, "Come on, don't be such a prude, pick yourself a cute guy for a private routine. It's on me if that eases you up," she nudges you, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You sighed heavily; Utahime wasn't wrong. Some of the guys were kind of... hot, you suppose. But how were you supposed to ask for a private dance? Should you just come up to them and ask them? You've never been to a male strip club, and you don't know the 'unspoken rules' when interacting with a stripper yet.

Your anxious thoughts were interrupted when the crowd surrounding the main stage got suddenly louder, a pair of lights pointing toward it. You couldn't understand what the DJ was saying; the mic was so close to his mouth that it sounded like he was eating it, making his words unintelligible. Or maybe you had a bad hearing. Because the crowd, including your friends, started to cheer, wooing and lifting their shots in the air.

A song started to play throughout the club; you guessed that whoever was about to do his routine was the 'star' of the club because of how lively the crowd of girls was. The lights coordinated with the beat of the music, creating a surprise appearance of the long-awaited dancer on stage with his back turned. 

Your heart stopped, jaw-slacked and speechless, as he turned around, unbuttoning the top of the fireman's outfit he was wearing one by one. Holy shit, that was—

"Uta'! It's him!" You nudged your friend frantically.

At first, she frowned in confusion, but it was only in a matter of seconds that it dawned on her. Having the same reaction as you, Utahime gasped and nudged you back, "Oh my god, you're right! It's the idiot from the date! Hell, I knew that 'teacher' thing was too weird for someone like him," she folded her arms, "and he sure does like the attention."

You looked back to the stage; the white-haired man had now fully unbuttoned his top, flashing his incredible, glistening abs on full display - you kept doubting whether it was oil or sweat that made them glint under the lights - and swaying his body seductively to the sound of the music. 

Even if you tried, you couldn't exactly hate him for faking an emergency call or lying about his real job. Not when he looked this fucking hot doing it.

Satoru (if you remembered his name correctly) took off the jacket, tugging it down excruciatingly slow, showing off his ripped biceps and tossed it aside. Your eyes were captivated by the sensuality of his movements, his muscles tensing and rippling, making you swallow hard at the eroticism that carried his routine. And hell, with that frown and that sly grin, he looked so fucking hot as he danced to the beat of the music.

The more you watched it, the more doubts came to mind. Satoru could be famous; he had the charisma and appeal to be, so what brought him to this? Was it out of necessity, or did he enjoy it? Questions that would never be answered because you would never see him again after this.

Or so you thought before you were given a push (literally), coincidentally while Satoru was looking for a volunteer to pull up on stage. 

Call it bad luck, but Satoru took your hand from all those who begged to be chosen, helping you onto the stage. Satoru couldn't recognize you under the dim lights of the club until he was face to face with you. He felt his heart work twice as hard, his eyes wide as saucers for just a second, masking his panic with a toothy grin.

In full view of everyone, Satoru sat you on a chair as part of his routine and stood behind you, the pad of his fingers skimming over the skin of your arms, trailing down to your wrists, his fingers wrapped around them and lifted them into the air.

"So you're not a teacher?" you murmured, feeling your heartbeat in your throat at the proximity of his lips against your neck.

"You got me, I'm not; sorry for lying to you," he whispered back, a small laugh coming from him as he took your hands to run up and down his beefy torso, feeling his every muscle rippling under your fingers.

A gasp escaped your lips as gasps of astonishment from the audience. God, it was a miracle you hadn't fainted by now. You swallowed dryly, falling prey to his erotic dance and his very presence, his hands guiding yours to rest on his hard-worked thighs and then roaming up your neck, the heat of his skin making contact with yours as Satoru pressed himself against you. You knew this was part of his dance routine, yet it felt so intimate, too much sexual tension and lascive, like a moment that shouldn't be shown to the public and kept taboo.

"Want me to tell you a secret?" he breathed, his laboured breaths blending with yours.

"Another one?"

"I was thinking of doing this to you on our second date," he confessed, a seductive smile to your eyes peeking out from the corner of his lips, "but it seems fate wanted to bring it forward."

"Do you believe in fate?"

"Nah, but doesn't it sound nice?" he huffed, tilting his head playfully, his white locks tickling your cheek, his hips sensuously grinding across your lap.

Satoru could sense your uncertainty in touching him and how much you wanted to do so. You moistened your parted lips and startled at every brush of his bare skin against yours, your hands tensed and trembling, refusing to explore any more of his anatomy. "Touch me," he instructed.

"What?"

Satoru pulled away from you, taking your hands into his, helping you to stand up and wrap your arms around his neck. With a firm grip on your thighs, you encircled your legs around his waist. "They want a show, and I know you're dying than just laying your soft hands on my body. Let me feel you all over me."

You felt your face burning, his innuendo going straight to your core. His words did things to you, like your skin prickling and leaving your mind blank. Bashfully, you complied; your shy hand travelled from his neck down to his abdomen, exploring every inch of his pale flesh as he carefully laid you down on the floor. He pried open your legs, easing his way between them, which made you wonder if this was still part of the routine or if you were about to get arrested for public indecency and be registered as a sex offender.

You finally understood why he was so popular at the nightclub; a routine by Satoru was like having clothed sex, the way his head dipped between your legs, alluding to him eating you out while moving every part of his lower body to the rhythm of the music or the way he acted out rhythmic sexual positions with you, made his touch feel igneous under your skin and sent a throbbing in your nether regions.

Fortunately (or unfortunately for you), the routine came to an end; beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as he caught his breath and -painfully- said goodbye to you in front of the crowd, mentally grateful for the dim lighting of the place that hid his tented pants after his very sexual dance routine.

As soon as you stepped off the stage, your friends were all over you, bombarding you with questions, jokes and the occasional sly comment.

"So, are you going to meet him again?" Shoko asked you with a teasing -and very nosy intentioned- glint in her eyes.

"I... I don't know," you stuttered bashfully, still recovering from your heart rattling in your ribcage. As your friends kept teasing you to no end, you felt a vibration of your phone, forcing you to take it out of your pocket. Your breath hitched, and that sensation in your lower back became present again as you read the contact name.

"Next date at my place? ;)" —Satoru.

#KY000 ★ #anon (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x you #gojou x reader #gojo saturo x reader #gojo saturo x you #jujutsu satoru #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satorugojo #satoru x reader #satoru gojo

[notjustjavierpena]

House

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: A few ideas poured into one. Thank you for all of the attention Hubby Javier is getting lately, makes me all teary-eyed.

Summary: Baby kicks and house-shopping, is there anything else to say?

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)

Tags: +15, Pregnancy, domestic married, idiots in love, making out

Word count: 1.7k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51723856

House

There’s a low hum coming from the radio in the kitchen. You’re on your back underneath white soft sheets that have warmed up to feel like a hug, drifting in and out of sleep to the soft pop song and a noise of mugs clinking.

It’s early morning and you have yet to get out of bed. Javier is doing his morning ritual, and it causes even the annoying ding of the toaster and the drip of the coffee maker to make you smile. The very sound of his existence outside of your own little bubble is proof that he isn’t just a figment of your imagination, that things are actually as good as they see, and the fact makes your eyes shut and your sleep more undisturbed than it’s ever been.

He wakes you half an hour later, gentle as ever.

“I’m heading to work, baby, Lord knows what messes I have to clean up today,” Javier says and bends down to kiss your forehead. He runs a hand over your hair which you say is way too greasy for him to do. He smiles, tuts, and heads towards the door. 

“Don’t forget we have that thing later,” you call after him as he exits the bedroom. You look after him despite him already being out of sight, awaiting his answer that will probably consist of him profusely apologizing for forgetting but you interrupt yourself by gasping out loud. You call for him a little louder.

“You okay?” Javier stands in the doorway not a second later. He has furrowed his brow. 

“Come here,” you hold out your hand with a grin. When Javier takes it, you guide his palm down to your just-starting-to-show pregnant belly.

“Is he kicking?” He asks with a voice that is a little more squeaky than normal. He doesn’t move his hand, doesn’t seem to dare in case he’ll miss it, and doesn’t get to say hello for the first time. 

“I swear if he gets your sleeping schedule and starts waking up around this time from now on,” you groan but Javier seems too transfixed to laugh at your joke. He kneels down on the floor, watching and waiting expectantly. 

“Talk to him,” you instruct, arching your back slightly to push your belly further into your husband’s hand, “He’ll react to your voice. I promise.”

Javier checks his watch on his other hand but he doesn’t show signs of being in a hurry. He rubs your stomach a little, kisses your skin, “Come on, bebito. Your dad needs to go fight villanos for the state.”

You giggle at the way he speaks so softly, switching to the same pitch that one would address a puppy with. He looks at you with red cheeks and you just want to kiss him, “Stop laughing.”

“Sorry, I just love you,” you continue your tiny giggles, not trying to stop them from bubbling up in your throat, “I’ll stay still. Just don’t give up.”

It takes a few more minutes before you feel Lucas move again. Your stomach jumps underneath Javier’s hand and the move surprises him to the point where he nearly falls on his ass, another laugh erupting from your chest. 

“Was that him?” He gapes at you and you nod. He quickly regains his composure to feel for more kicks. His eyes have lightened up and the smile he is sporting is pure joy mixed with disbelief, “That’s so badass…”

A few moments pass. Javier gets excited again, thoughts of work forgotten, “There! Again!”

“He loves you, baby,” you say, “He’s saying hello.”

“I can’t wait until he’s here,” he admits and whispers hello back to his son, resting his cheek against your belly whilst looking up at your face. He smiles as you run a hand over his hair, “I love you two too. Should I just stay here all day?”

“As nice as that sounds, we have that thing later,” you say, “The house tour.”

“Shit,” he says as predicted.

“You better be there, Peña. Your son needs that backyard,” you try to sound stern but Lucas kicks once more. You chuckle happily instead, and in the next moment, you don’t know if you are referring to Lucas or his father because Javier’s eyes practically sparkle, “Well someone’s excited.”

Javier had brought up the idea of a house the second you arrived home from your honeymoon along with a confession of having looked at possible sellers in the area since you got engaged. However, the idea had faded, had been put on hold due to everyday life getting in the way until now. Fulfilling the fantasy has become a reality since you found out that you are pregnant.

Now it has also been put into motion.

It’s the first house that you are seeing together. You went last week, fell in love with the place, and now, you want Javier’s opinion (and approval). Even though the house doesn’t have the same charm as your shared apartment, and despite the apartment space holding so many memories that you cherish, you know your current living situation won’t suit a growing family. 

“Right, I’ll be there,” he kisses your belly repeatedly, “I’ll see you later, mijo.”

“Go,” you usher him gently, “We’ll be here when you get back too.”

“Te amo, momma,” Javier says before he leaves your side, his voice so genuine you might slide underneath the covers because you can barely contain your happiness without giggling like a schoolgirl. 

“Te amo también,” you say back and then lay back to hear the sound of the front door closing. 

You use the rest of the morning to snooze and have a one-sided conversation with your unborn child, only getting out of bed when you cannot procrastinate anymore or you’ll be late. You wash your greasy hair twice in the shower and snack instead of eating a proper meal, scared that you will experience a fit of nausea during the house tour. Despite having a fair reason, you don’t think that vomiting in the bathroom of the house you are considering buying will go well with the seller. Javier would probably make a joke about marking your territory whilst stroking your back to make you stop crying.

Though later that day when you enter the house that you have already seen and daydreamed about, you immediately notice the crinkle of Javier’s nose at the mention of the rooms. Kitchen, bathroom, dining area. Smile. Three bedrooms. Nose crinkle. 

The realtor seems to notice it too, and she gives you a sympathetic look and touches your shoulder gently. You don’t flinch because she seems genuine and nice, “Why don’t I give you two some privacy? You’ll be able to look around without me hovering over your shoulder and without me making you hold back any negative comments.”

Javier hums, already wandering around and seeming lost in his own thoughts.

“That’d be great, thanks,” you smile and chase your husband down as she leaves. You find him running his knuckles over the kitchen counter, knocking once as if he has a clue about the material. It’s almost sweet the way that he is practicing his dad-mannerisms already. 

“You don’t like it,” you say matter-of-factly.

Javier whips around at hearing your voice, “What? No, I like it. It’s just—“

“Just what?” You join him by the counter, leaning against it. 

“There are only three bedrooms,” he notes as if it’s the most logical explanation in the world. 

You raise a brow and lay a hand on your protruding belly, “You do know there’s only one baby in here, right? It’s not like I’m about to give you a barbershop quartet.”

Javier laughs genuinely at the mental image. He moves to stand in front of you, reaching to hold your pregnant belly and rubbing its sides gently. He can see the disappointment in your eyes which makes him tut and you pout. 

“I’m just thinking ahead here, mi vida,” he rests his forehead against yours, chuckling at the sight of you pushing out your bottom lip. He rubs a soothing circle into your stomach with his thumb, and brushes a strand of hair from your face with his other hand, “Don’t pout. You know I’m weak.”

“You don’t love it the way I do,” you squeak out, “And this is within our price range.”

“We’ll borrow money from my Pop, hell, he’ll pawn his whole house for us,” he reaches up to cup your face in both his hands, tilting back your head so he can repeatedly peck your lips, “And no, I don’t love it the way you do.”

You reach for one of his wrists, offended. 

“But,” he interrupts before you can protest, “If we’re having at least three kids then we’re already a bedroom short.”

“Three?!” You say in a horrified tone.

“Eventually,” he soothes.

“That’s almost a whole litter, Javi.”

“Well, you don’t have to drop them all at once,” he jokes, pauses, and then continues, “I’m just asking you to keep our options open with me.”

“But this kitchen,” you whine, gesturing to the farmhouse sink that you’ve fallen so deeply in love with, “I wanna do the dishes here and I hate doing the dishes.”

“I’ll build you your own kitchen, baby, with a rich-people-sink and a dishwasher,” he presses his thumbs into the underside of your jaw, “How’s that sound? Bién, no?”

You half-frown, half-smile. It does sound nice.

“There it is,” he says as you finally smile fully and allow a new daydream to manifest in your mind, “That’s my girl.” 

A few long seconds pass with kissing him in a house that won’t be yours after all, arms slung around his neck, and standing on your toes as you make out. God, you love the confidence that Javier radiates. Suddenly everything seems possible. 

“Besides,” Javier pulls back a little, mischievous, ”Did you see that backyard? A soccer team has 11 players, you know, and with the way Lucas is kicking…”

“You better stop that talk right now if you ever wanna get with me again, Mister,” you answer but then you kiss him again.

“I’ll tell the realtor that we want something bigger,” he takes a step back but you grab his arm. He allows you to pull him back in.

“I need a hug. Just five more minutes,” you beg.

And so he does, holding you tightly in an embrace that is pouring with love.

“Okay, five more minutes.”

.

.

.

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#pedro pascal characters #javi peña #javier peña #pedro pascal fanfiction #javi pena #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfic #javier pena smut #javier pena one shot #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal #my writing #husband!javi

[chronicbeans]

Wally and a Puppeteer Reader (part 5)

The silly man's actions are finally being noticed by the higher-ups oh no

Tw: Obsessive Behaviors, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery, Idol Worshipping, Mentions of Death Threats, Mentions of Stalking

🎥 You look around at everyone that the boss has gathered. It is practically the whole camera crew, all of the directors, all the puppeteers, and the few extra voice actors. The boss, who prefers to just be called 'Boss' by their workers, is standing in the center of the crowd they have gathered, looking at everyone with a keen eye.

🎥 Finally, they begin to speak. "I am sure everyone knows why we have gathered here today? I have heard your complaints. The eerie letters and drawings (Y/N) has been getting, Eddie's puppet having a bunch of colorful envelopes dumped on him by the time we return in the morning to work for three nights in a row. I have even heard that Frank's puppet has had a whole dictionary placed on top of him. You know, the one we use to try to come up with rhymes or ways to explain topics to kids? I have heard your pleas, so I have brought us all here to come up with a solution that would satisfy us all."

🎥 Eddie's puppeteer looks around, an anxious look in their eyes, before they raise their hand. The boss calls on them, prompting them to stand and speak. Their tone is frantic as they explain "I am most worried about the... the odd messages. Recently, it isn't just (Y/N) who has been getting them! I've gotten some odd ones, requesting me to mail things to people. They always come with an extra note that's meant for the person who I need to send it to... I did so, because the notes addressed to me contained these... Grizzly threats against me..."

🎥 Wally's voice actor stands up suddenly, pointing to the puppeteer. They speak in a harsh tone, asking "Did you get any mail for me? Any notes addressed to me?" The person in question simply nods, muttering "Yeah... I just leave them by the door to your recording booth."

🎥 The voice actor continues, their eyes moving to the boss, a glare in them "I TOLD you, Boss! Now I have the proof! Whoever this little freak is that's been bothering us has been sending notes to practically everyone here! Every morning so far, ever since a few weeks ago, I've had these envelopes outside my recording booth. When I opened them, they were filled with horrible threats against me AND my family! I don't know how they found out about my kids, but they did, and they have been threatening them! Sometimes, there are even drawings taped all along the walls of my booth that, although scribbles, I can tell are meant to be me or my family dying."

🎥 You slunk in your seat as more and more people begin talking at once, their voices growing louder and louder the longer they talk. From letters to drawings, everyone has something to pitch in. Someone even mentions how they had paint dumped onto them, hence the red stain on the carpet by the filing cabinets. Eyes being painted on the walls by the large Home set is a new one, but not necessarily something you are shocked by. A lot of your drawings recently include eyes, which only makes your paranoid feelings of being watched so much worse... The boss' eyes widen as they raise their hands, shouting "Everyone calm down! This will be dealt with! That's why we're here, right? Stay calm!"

🎥 After a few deep breaths, you raise your hand. After being called on, you ask "I told you to check the cameras and ask the security guards. Have you found anything?" The boss grows quiet, before scratching the back of their head and answering your question "Well... The guards have gone missing. The only remaining one quit, saying there was a ghost or something. The cameras didn't hold much useful information. They didn't show anything, but I have noted that as of a few months ago, they have been turning off around the time that filming stops. The tech guys have been on the case, but found nothing wrong, so far."

🎥 You are about to ask another question, when Wally's voice actor speaks up again, their tone just as agitated as before "Why not have us all take a holiday while this is sorted out? We have no big projects set up, just some regular episodes! The public has plenty of episodes to keep them satisfied right now! I'm sure like... Three days won't harm you! A group of volunteers and I could just stay overnight to try to catch this freak and figure out why they are doing this! Less money from your pockets from property damage, hiring new security guards on the spot from desperation and having them fail horribly, and halfhearted repairs to the cameras." They then look around, asking "Who's with me on this idea? The boss has still got to hire guards and fix the cameras, but we can rid ourselves of this nuisance faster!"

🎥 After a few moments of silence, some people from the crowd raise their hands. You recognize them as the puppeteers for Eddie, Poppy, Julie, and Frank. There are also a few camera operators, and one director. You are about to raise your hand, when Wally's voice actor stops you. They pat you on the shoulder, saying "Look, I know you wanna get rid of this guy as much as everyone else, but I must say... You are in the most danger here, in my opinion. Whoever this is, they are after you the most. You are their target. I may not necessarily like you, but I am not heartless enough to let you come waltzing in here at the dead of night to confront this person. Plus, you got a kid you're caring for, right? You should just get some rest, if the boss agrees with this."

🎥 As all eyes turn towards the boss. They clearly are conflicted. If the rumors being spread around the set are true, they are a bit of a penny pincher, willing to do anything to make a quick buck and not lose any money in the process. However, it seems like their better conscience gets the best of them as they say "Fine. I'll give you all a holiday. For the people who decide to show up, take care of the puppets. I don't want to return to see them in bad shape. Keep me updated. You have THREE days to find and catch this person. No more, no less. This meeting is over. Have a nice holiday."

#welcome home #wally darling x reader #wally darling #welcome home arg

[asherisawkward]

I found Luz not caring about the demon realms history annoying. I get it. Some of it was made up, but most of it wasn't, just why the crusade was started. It seems a lot of the history she got was through word of mouth.

You figure a fan of fantasy would be excited to learn the history and culture of a magical realm, not just magic. I'm surprise a lot more demons and witches didn't get fed up with her. The only thing who seemed to have anything against it was Hunter, but I could be remembering it all wrong. Sorry if this comes off as a rant.

I absolutely get what you mean!! Luz, from what I remember of TOH, spent a lot of time trying to fit the Boiling Isles into her opinion of what a fantasy world should be. She doesn’t really listen to the laws or the cultural norms. I suppose that it makes sense to ignore the laws to a certain extent, considering they’re made by a witch hunter pretending to be a benevolent ruler, but she doesn’t even try to think about things critically. Especially in this day and age, you are supposed to research and analyze before you draw a conclusion, not just take the word of some criminal who doesn’t even off you any proof. I love Eda. She’s badass and creative, and I adore how she grows to care about others through the series. But she is a biased character to introduce a world through, and Luz doesn’t even question it. She hears Eda’s “oh, he just wants to control magic” and runs with it.

The biggest example of her complete dismissal of the Boiling Isles culture, laws, and norms would be when she continued to push to be in all classes. Not only does she lack the necessary knowledge to cast precise spells, but she is asking the principal, the teachers, and all the students to risk themselves for her fantasy. This isn’t some petty pickpocketing that she’s asking a few people to ignore. She asks to be allowed to violate one of the most important laws in the whole country—it has the death penalty, for fuck’s sake! Principal Bump could have been executed for allowing this; the teachers could have gone to prison! And the students who don’t turn her in, while unlikely to suffer so severely, are likely to be punished as well! How many people could have been hurt or killed by her thoughtless violation of the laws if Belos had been shown to be a bit more how Dana claims he was? (Because, all things considered, he’s not shown to be the harshest ruler ever.)

Additionally, it bothers me that she never bothers to explore any real cultures or traditions on the Isles. She “wants to be a witch,” but doesn’t focus on anything other than the magic of it. If it were Harry Potter world, where witches are exclusively humans with human culture but magic, I’d get that, but it isn’t. It is a whole other world where everything from childhood to the system of government is different. Her refusal to let go of her preconceived notions and just explore what the BIs is like comes off a little bit like a weeb in their mother’s basement saying “I want to be Japanese,” going to Japan, and then never exploring it beyond their notions of what Japan is like from anime. I love Luz, and it was incredibly impactful for me to see a fellow neurodivergent fantasy nerd on screen, but she has a tendency of treating the Boiling Isles like her escapist fantasies. It bothers me that it’s not really addressed.

Finally, this lack of exploration leads to limited knowledge on what the actual inhabitants of the Boiling Isles are like aside from a select handful. What beliefs aside from the Titan do people have? What rituals do they perform, holidays do they celebrate? What are the people of the Boiling Isles like? Part of what I love about Amphibia is the time it takes to world-build, to show us all the different ways that the world works, and how there are varied, diverse, and unique cultures that are a part of it. It makes Amphibia dynamic and alive. The Owl House doesn’t do that with the Boiling Isles, and I’m bummed about that.

I hope this is close enough to what you’re talking about, because this got me on a tangent.

#The Owl House #TOH #The Owl House critical #TOH critical #Luz Noceda #Luz Noceda critical #Ask

[savagebisand]

Let's do a deep dive into the complexity of Mew and Ray rebounding on each other and how it leads to a huge necessary parting of the entire core four.

It reaches a head at that cursed Halloween Party in this ep. Because y'all. We've had sweet and bitter but today we really saw it blend together and I think this whole series tackles the futility and perseverance of love and connection but we really saw it during episode eight at it's peak.

There is literally no room in my heart for hating on Mew over Ray right now because like Mew has taken every opportunity to insist that Ray isn't controlling or changing him, Mew is changing, Mew is saying fuck it so what to everything he despised before because he's tired of fitting in a box. it has nothing to do with Ray other than that Ray makes it easy. Ray won't judge because he cannot as he's done everything Mew is trying. Mew himself is telling everyone he's a grown ass man who is coping with shit the best way he can right now and Ray just happens to be the only one not trying to restrict him or tell him how to cope. the others blaming Ray for Mew's spiral is just what's easiest for them to swallow the truth. they don't see that Mew is using Ray's unconditional love as an excuse to be the worst version of himself because to them Mew is the only vulnerable one. So let's unpack all that shall we?

Ray on the other hand knows full well that Mew doesn't love him or want him as anything other than a distraction but he's humbly accepted his role. you can tell when Mew only kisses Ray in front of Top, when Mew can't tell Ray he loves him back that Ray knows because he knows Mew, Mew does not and can not love Ray at least not the way Ray imagined Mew could. but it's alright. because for once when Mew is falling apart he's picked Ray to get to stand fiercely at his side and give him arms to cry in. all Ray wants is to feel important and connected to Mew some way and so when Mew asks for cigarettes and coke and drinks and parties, Ray doesn't question it because if he did he loses the little limited space Mew has let Ray reside in whilst everyone else has been pushed aside.

I mean hell Ray even tells Sand that Mew and him "have to see if things will work between them first" when Sand insists Ray has had his dream come true getting to be with Mew. he insists they aren't serious yet but instead seeing how things go, that Mew is at least letting them try and that's good enough. The way Ray talks about it, you can tell he doesn't believe Mew will let him stay around as a boyfriend for long. It's not just because it's Sand he's talking to, there's this understanding in how Ray addresses it. He's okay with it because all that ever mattered to Ray was trying, was having the concrete proof that Mew and him don't and can't work in romantic love instead of Mew's half assed denials.

Ray understands perfectly his role as Mew's supporting character, he isn't blind like some insist. In fact he's got more in common with Nick and Sand than people would like to recognise. Remember how Nick insists that Boston "doesn't have to love him, doesn't have to make nick his priority, he just cannot hate him?" Well that's very much Ray now that Mew has given him the time of day. Everything is still all about Top and Ray can tell but as long as Mew is happy to pretend his spite overrules his lingering love, Ray will play along. I think its very telling in the moment when Mew says this:

Literally right in front of Ray's face and Ray says nothing about the fact they're supposed to be a "we" not an "I" right now. They're supposed to be playing the hosting couple, a united front. Yet here Mew is proudly proclaiming he doesn't need anyone anymore because he's learned to only care about himself for once, he's happy on self destruct because at least he only has to be his own priority and worst enemy. No one else gets to set his rules and break them and let him down except for himself.

So yeah Ray knows exactly where he stands but, look, as easy as it is to blame him for playing a part for Mew and not recognising Sand's love, we have to also bear in mind that Ray stands in this very fragile precipice currently where his loyalty to Mew is the difference between total alienation and having at least somebody from the broken family of the core four still remaining. Mew easily tossed Boston and Top aside, ruthlessly, and he will do the same the second Ray takes any high ground over Mew's actions because Mew will waste no time reminding him how much of a hypocrite he'd be right now.

And yes it's wrong that Mew is using Ray as collateral damage to his first real break up induced sad manic girl break down but in grief we become people we don't recognise. We go numb. I don't think Mew realises fully how detrimental it will be to rely on Ray right now as he cracks before he heals, he's too caught up in going through motions, one all nighter to the next. One revenge plot to the next. He does his best to protect Ray by insisting to Cheum and Top these are his own choices and consequences to handle but when your loved ones see you a certain way, they very staunchly refuse to recognise when you make choices they don't like for you.

Cheum and Top are kinda hypocritical for blaming Ray and not noticing their own flaws in their bid to "protect" Mew but it does make sense. They can't reconcile this new Mew with the one they have grown to understand and care for and rely on. It is far easier to look to the nearest external factor influencing Mew and pin everything on that. It doesn't make it right but it does explain their motivations. They can't see Rays complexity the way the viewer can so it's far simpler for Cheum to say Ray is careless and too greedy so he can never just settle. For Top to insist Ray can't love Mew if he keeps negative shit around Mew whilst forgetting he can't exactly be one to talk when Mew wasn't much better off with him.

Basically they're all getting to that point in this journey where they have to sit with some hard home truths about their friends and themselves and really no one is to blame anymore for anyone other than themselves. No one is responsible anymore for anyone but themselves. It's no longer a blame game and more a time to sit and ask questions about who they are and why they let things get to this point. It's the only chance they stand at not spending the rest of uni totally lost and alone. The only way they might all find a way back to each other, stronger than they were before, different yes, a little broken yes but stronger together.

I think this episode did a particularly beautiful job at showcasing how love remains and prevails even as things shift and recalibrate. Mew is downright vengeful to Top but Top quietly takes it all and refuses to quit when Mew pushes him away the way he gave up on Mew before. He stands steady and strong and he's the one who carries Mew to bed and cleans him up and gets him comfy. Treats him like he's precious finally and refuses to leave.

Boston is told by everyone he has no right to show his face but he insists he has to be there anyway, even as he challenges Nick for daring to approach him, a part of Boston clearly wishes Nick had told Ton about his project because he wanted to share the celebration but Ton can only hear Nick bragging that he's moving on to better things whilst Ton still keeps company with red solo cups in a hidden room, stuck in the sidelines. And yet Boston can't find it in him to treat Nick spitefully, the best he can do is dismissive. He still shows up in a panic on that staircase, helplessly searching for a way to save Ray even as he knows it's all too broken to fix.

Cheum explodes on Ray like a mother or sister whose lost all hope not once but twice but it comes out of a place of concern, a desperate final plea that if they really aren't enough then Ray has to want to help himself. And as hypocritical as we may find her for saying Ray is careless to those around him, she's not wrong that Ray, the night of the party in particular, has only dedicated himself to Mew. She knows now that none of her hopes or wishes for the boys to be better and focus on doing the best for themselves will ever be enough alone to make them care more about friendship and futures than sex and love. She's realising how little she noticed about how deep the cracks ran and she's having to struggle with that but she still begs Top to save Ray from a place she knows will take him to the point of no return even as she chooses to walk away.

Hell Sand and Nick don't even want to be at that party but against all odds they turn up because they owe it to themselves to save face and at least try to move on. To be mature and talk to the people that they've hurt and who have hurt them instead of burying their heads. Boston and Ray are cold to them and yet they don't leave. Sand still turns back and tries to protect Ray because even if he pushed him to the ground earlier and told him they're over. He can't watch Ray rot in prison when what Ray really needs is rehab. When thats the worst place Ray can go.

Top even helps Ray avoid jail time. He says "sorry for my friend" and even if his motivation is more to help Cheum or to do this because Mew will totally tip off the edge if Ray goes down, he gains nothing from this. There is a genuine flash of concern and recognition in his face as he watches Ray cry and scream that actually maybe they aren't so different. Maybe both of their realities are pitiful and lonely.

It's just so interesting that even as things come to a close and we can tell these characters are going to split apart and take some distance, abandon each other and pray it means they come back one day able to show up better for each other as friends... they still choose love, against all odds. It's a bittersweet goodbye because they're all angry and hurting and confused about who they are and why they're behaving the way they do but even in that final moment as Cheum pulls the curtain closed, she's that last string to break when Ton has been forced to pull away and so has Top, and we can tell Ray will try to cling to Mew a little less as he battles with Cheums harsh truth that maybe he really is bad for Mew and maybe Mew really isn't enough for him. They all show up to protect Ray and each other one last time. Even if it's hopeless.

Because love and loyalty remains unconditional even if they don't like the versions of themselves they can see right now. Because even when you don't agree with choices your nearest and dearest make, even when you can't forgive it, they will still always be your broken fucked up little family.

#only friends #sandray #bostonnick #raymew #topmew #cheum #only friends the series

[gemini-magic17]

Entanglement Chapter Twenty-Six

**One Week Later (Y/n's POV)

It's been a couple of days since Ser Easton arrived back in Dristarya and things have been weighing on my mind. Ser Easton informed me that the cover story that Boorman came up with and the "proof" he provided my father panned out had me relieved. However, I couldn't forget the feeling I had when he told me that my family was still going out of their minds about my disappearance. The pain and heartbreak I am putting them through is practically what Kit did to me. How does that make me any better than what she did? I let out a sign as I held my head in my hands struggling on what to do. Should I stay on Dristarya or return to Tir Asleen? Rubbing my hands over my face I heard Ser Easton approaching.

"If you have come to check on me I will save you the trouble. I feel like my mind is going to explode and that I am a terrible excuse for a human being", I stated turning to him.

"You are not a terrible person I can assure you on that."

"Oh really then what would you call someone who up and abandoned her family on her wedding day not telling anyone where she was leaving them to go out of their mind with worry", I said and raised my eyebrows.

"I would say that she was someone who was in pain and didn't know whether or not she could keep going through the situation that she was forced in", he said trying to be reassuring.

"Say what you want Ser Easton but we both know the truth. I am a coward and a sorry excuse for a daughter for doing what I did."

"You can keep telling yourself how horrible of a person you are to but you are someone who was put in a situation that you didn't ask for where you were dealt a shitty hand. Anyone in your place would have done the same thing I know I would have if I were you", he retorted and I let out a sigh.

"But you aren't in my place and your family isn't losing hope that they will ever find you. Maybe its time that I go back."

"You mean to Tir Asleen? Are you serious?"

"It's time and I know how you feel about this whole thing but come on. We both knew that eventually, I couldn't hide forever and had to return", I said.

"After everything that has happened, you really want to go back to a place where you experienced nothing but suffering", he exclaimed.

"I know how you feel but I realized I need to put that aside and go back to explain to my family about all that has occurred. Anyway who knows Kit and I may be able to work out our issues", I stated.

"Right, where have I heard that before", he said sarcstically.

"Hey, she saved my life. Doesn't that count for something?"

"She may have saved your life but don't forget that she also destroyed a part of it or rather you for that matter. You gave her more than enough chances to fix what she had done she doesn't deserve anymore."

"After stopping that archer from killing me I think that warrants one more chance to fix what she broke in the first place", I stated.

"Fine, if that is what you wish then I will make arrangements for us. The ship I used to get here is still docked where I landed we will head out when you are ready."

"I thought you chartered one here", I questioned.

"No, after last time I figure it would be better for me to sail here myself since the captain of the ship I was on told me that he would not dock in Dristarya giving me a small boat to get the rest of the way here the first time", he said.

"I didn't know you could even steer a ship."

"I couldn't but I am a quick study", he said with a smile plaguing his face and I returned it with another.

"Well, I suggest we leave on the morrow. It will give us enough time to get our things together and head out", I said.

"Sounds good. I'll get my stuff packed then once you get yours I will load the ship and we will depart tomorrow", he stated and I nodded my head.

"There is something that needs to be addressed though", Ser Easton said.

"What do you mean", I said and he turned his head to where Aeras and the others were.

"Oh god."

"What are you going to do", he asked.

"I don't know. I can't just leave them here they are like apart of me and me them. What am I going to do?"

"Well, we may be going back to Tir Asleen but that doesn't mean you can't come back and see them when you want. Plus if I know them as I think I do then they are going to miss you as much as you are going to miss them. I don't see how you and them are ever going to be separated."

"I know I have to go back and a part of me has always known I would have to go back to Tir Asleen but-"

"But what?"

"I didn't think of how hard it was going to be to leave them or how much I was going to end up loving them", I choked up finding it hard to stop the tears welling up in my eyes. In-between the tears in my eyes I can see them flying around Dristarya and it made my heart leap. Knowing that I am going to be apart from them is breaking my heart.

"It's going to be ok just remember this isn't goodbye. It is more like I will see you later", he said and gave me a side hug.

"I promise you this isn't the end between you and them", he stated and I wiped the tears away nodding my head.

"Well, we better start getting things ready", I said and walking off to the castle taking a glimpse of Aeras and Calyx flying overhead. Knowing this would be the last time I see them for awhile is something I am having trouble comprehending or better yet coping with.

**Back in Tir Asleen (Kit's POV)

"You know I don't believe that shit", Airk states.

"What are you talking about", I asked him.

"What happened on the battlefield. The story that Boorman told King Aiden was just that as story", he said.

"Listen you don't know what happened on that field you weren't there we were and that is what happened."

"Oh really", he questioned raising an eyebrow in my direction.

"Yeah so if you will excuse me", I said making my way out of his room but before I could he blocked me from leaving.

"Your my sister I know when your bullshitting me so you can either tell me or I can go to our mother or better yet King Aiden and tell them about my suspicions. We don't keep secrets from each other we never have so tell me what really happened."

"You know Airk you are starting to sound like Y/n's brother with his threats and all. Let me give you some advice though don't threaten someone unless you have evidence of wrongdoing. As from I can see you have none only your suspicions and those who were on the battlefield will cooperate that so I suggest you stop with the empty threats", I spat and purposely knocked his soldier with mine as I went my merry way.

The fact that Airk started to question me about what happened a week ago made me nervous about whether or not others were doing the same. After all, Boorman just came up with that cover story right on the spot and if it weren't for Ser Easton providing the necessary proof to back it up. It's only a matter of time until someone cracks or King Aiden comes to his senses and realize that it was complete and utter bullshit on our part. Part of me knows that my mother didn't even believe it and if she didn't then no did.

"Hey, what's wrong", Boorman asked.

"Airk was questioning me about what happened that day and he knows something is up", I whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"He thinks we lied about the whole thing and made something up to cover up what really happened", I exclaimed capturing the attention of others. With that I dragged Boorman to the gardens and made sure that no one was there.

"That is because we did make the whole thing up. We never should have done it", Boorman stated.

"Well what did you want to do Boorman, huh? Tell everyone the truth about how Y/n came in riding on a dragon where said dragon burned the opposing army to the ground", I said.

"At least it would be the truth."

"Listen to me, I am not putting her at risk because she saved our lives and we both know it. Could you imagine what would happen if someone were to find out about this? It could be detrimental for Y/n and those dragons. She cares about them immensely and god help me if I am going to let anyone be a threat to that."

**Three Days Later (Y/n's POV)

Sailing back to Tir Asleen reminded me of the first time I left Zemira to go go there. I think I am more nervous now then I was before since now I have to face my entire family after disappearing. As I stared out to sea I started to think about Calyx and the others. Leaving them was one of the hardest things I had to do, they are my family and I love them to bits. My heart aches knowing that I am going to be a part from them having no clue when I will see them again.

When I said my goodbyes to them the day I left I could feel their sadness and they could feel mine. I couldn't stop crying leaving them there and I when I got on the ship my eyes didn't leave them until Dristarya was no longer in sight.

"Are you ok Princess", Ser Easton asked. I turned to look at him as he was steering the ship with concern etched on his face.

"No, I'm not", I said walking to stand beside him.

"I know it's hard to leave them", he stated.

"I swore my heart could not break even more than it already was but here I am being proved wrong."

"It may feel that way now Princess but you have to know this isn't goodbye", he said.

"The why does it feel like it is", I say and I made my way to the front of the ship.

When I made it to the front of the ship all I could see in front of me was what seemed to be an endless sea. It was somewhat calming along with the sea breeze making contact with my face. Out of nowhere the sun seemed to be "covered" leaving a shadow over the ship. As I looked up to the sky I was shocked by what I saw. Out of all the things I was imagining it could have been I didn't expect it to be this.

Tyrax flew right past the ship only to make his way back overhead circling the ship. The joy that crept up inside me couldn't be explained or rather expressed on how ecstatic I was to see him. His blood-red scales shimmered in the sunlight it was almost blinding.

"It seems that he couldn't be apart from you", Ser Easton shouted and I turned to him smiling.

"It seems he knew how much it hurt for me to leave them."

"Well, if Tyrax has decided to follow you then the others can't be far behind."

I smiled at his words but in the back if my mind I couldn't help but think what would happen if anyone were to find out about them. Especially if Ser Easton's words to be true that the others weren't far behind from Tyrax. If that were the case then a whole bunch of problems could arise having some serious consequences.

** I hope this chapter isn't bad I have been suffering with a really bad cold this week but I still wanted to finish this and post it.

#hazel callahan x reader #kit tanthalos x reader #willow 2022 #kit tanthalos #ruby cruz #willow fanfic

[ownworldresident]

Side by Side Chapter 5: Influence

Book: The Royal Romance.

Premise: With new additions to their family, King Liam and Rayne must re-evaluate their relationship dynamic.

Themes: Found family, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, family.

Word Count: 3.2k per chapter, 18 chapters. About 60k.

Note: This story started just after TRR3 ended, and isn't related to TRH. See also Side by Side Masterlist & Master Masterlist Link

After the Homecoming Ball

Rayne

“You could go to them,” she proposed to the table she stood beside. Three sets of eyes landed on her hard, but she couldn’t quite meet them.

“What do you mean?” came Liam’s voice beside her, ever soothing. She smiled, still at the table.

“If you think the court is too concerned to come to the wedding after… after the ball, you could go to them. Convince them that we need to stand strong.” Each word was a little surer. “A personal visit from the King and the…” She swallowed, lifting her gaze to the not-yet-queen, who quirked a brow. Rayne grit her teeth and looked to the Countess directly. She would not be cowed. “The future Queen. That would surely help.”

Only now did she look at them all properly. Constantine considered her words with a frown, Madeleine crossed her arms and watched her like Rayne had stolen her juice box. Liam watched her thoughtfully, before turning to the others.

“That could work.” He tapped his chin. “A show of support, we can unite against the assassins, show them that Cordonia does not and will not bow to such a threat.”

Constantine nodded to his son, a small smile on his face as he then appraised Rayne. Considering his former hostility, this borderline respect was unnerving. Perhaps it was because he had won, and she would not be queen, perhaps it was her significance to Liam, or even their talk during the engagement tour. It seemed unlikely he had simply decided she was suitable for court and consultation.

“We would have to postpone our wedding, darling. That would be tragic.” Feigned hurt, and the need to assert herself, was not a good look on Madeleine, nor was it particularly impressive anymore. Hopefully she would settle once there was a pretty crown on her head. Rayne looked from her to Liam, who’s jaw tightened, and wished she could reach out and touch him. Madeleine spoke again. “I just can’t wait to be married to you.”

“Whilst I appreciate your anticipation, Countess Madeleine,” Constantine addressed her, hands linked behind him, “Lady Rayne’s suggestion has merit. If we can bolster the people’s faith and trust in the monarchy, this could be exactly what we need.”

“And we cannot ask for that trust blindly,” Liam added.

“Precisely.” Constantine nodded, then turned to smile at Rayne. “Thank you for your insight, Rayne.”

It made her uncomfortable when he did not address her with a title.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Of course it makes sense,” Madeleine spoke up. “Though Rayne’s presence here does not. The attempt was aimed at the monarchy, not the common people.” The look she gave her was nothing new; a quick once over to make sure that yes, Rayne was still the same subpar Laotian-American woman she had always been. With a new appreciation for bullet proof clothing.

“It is an excellent idea,” said Liam, emerging from his thoughts. “We will postpone the wedding to visit each of the noble houses in person, to invite them and to reassure them of our strength.” The careful relief in his voice was apparent to Rayne, and she bit back a wider smile. He nodded to her, then turned to Madeleine. “And to answer your question, the attackers targeted Rayne as well. She has just as much stake in this as we do.”

That was a bold statement, and judging by Madeleine’s scowl, she wasn’t the only one to think so. Silence fell again, then a loud clunk outside jarred Rayne’s thoughts. Clutching the chair back before her, she closed her eyes as the din of the ball returned. The lights going out, tripping and falling, the armoured man with a gun pointed at her face… She grimaced, then a warm hand rested on her shoulder, and drew her back to the room.

“A Unity Tour,” she said quietly, and once again all eyes were on her. “That’s what you could call it.” Liam’s hand squeezed her shoulder gently.

“It’s settled, then,” he said to the room, then turned worried eyes toward her. “Thank you, Rayne.”

Present Day

Liam

After three weeks with his young family, Liam's office seemed alien. No matter how much he wished to still be there, the work had piled up in his absence, and he couldn't postpone it forever.

Some things he did not trust to Madeleine; some she refused to do; and some could only be completed or signed off on by him. It seemed that for every task he could delegate there was another he could not. Letters for consideration, documents that had been through council, minutes for missed meetings, memos from council, things that in an everyday capacity took careful time, but would now take a few days of long hours to properly complete.

Many of the notes and letters were preceded by often lengthy congratulations for him and for Rayne which brightened his mood. He had sorted the work into piles according to complexity, time consumption, and urgency, made lists for himself, and now worked quickly with his assistant bringing in a steady supply of coffee. Hours into his work, the door opened again, and Madeleine walked in.

He hadn’t seen her since their argument the day Evelyn and Leo were born and would have been happy for that to continue.

“Husband,” was her opening. The sweetness of her smile meant this would be an unpleasant interaction. Liam looked at his watch. Still early.

“Good morning.” He sipped his coffee. “Thank you for your work in my absence.”

The corner of her mouth quirked. “No thank you is necessary. As this country’s queen, I take my responsibilities seriously.”

Placing his cup down, Liam leant back in his chair. “Nevertheless, I am grateful.”

“Indeed.” She surveyed his desk and the couch against the wall which was currently serving as a second table. Ordered but still crowded with various tasks. “I have a suggestion to permit you to further prioritise your duties as king. Duties which do not pause for you to assist your mistress and children. One can survive without, and the others do not require your presence at their age.”

Liam breathed deeply and displayed none of the irritation at her reference to Rayne as his mistress, or assumptions about his family.

“Get to the point, Madeleine,” he said coolly, patience fading. She smiled and approached the desk, lifting one of the more complex tasks. He knew it was a holdings-related proposal, and also knew that the first paragraph was a lengthy congratulations, with no mention of Madeleine. She frowned, then schooled a warm smile in an impressive transition, and closed the file.

“For the benefit of all involved, I have appointed a nanny to assist Rayne. She will appreciate this offer, coming from her monarch. If not, you may need to convince her it is the best course. For the good of our country.”

“And what makes you think I would do that, knowing as well as you that she has declined that option in the past?”

“Because you will not be there to help her, and just because she is their biological mother does not make her equipped to care for the heirs to the Cordonian throne. You cheating on your fiancé does not qualify your mistress to raise a monarch.”

“That’s enough,” Liam said firmly, feeling the hot flash of anger. “You know full well we agreed upon my relationship with Rayne over a year ago, as a condition of our engagement that you first proposed, I might add. I never cheated on you. You are out of line.”

She placed down the file and narrowed her eyes.

“I am never out of line, husband.”

“That is where you are wrong. I shouldn’t need to remind you that the power here ultimately rests with me.” Months ago, keeping a clear head when she so clearly intended to provoke him would have been difficult. Her words hit hard, but he had more control over his response than she would like.

“That may be, but much of your power rests in the image you present. The family man, with a generous wife allowing you to legitimise your mistress’s children. The mistress, need I remind you, who was never absolved of her part in the Applewood Manor scandal. What would happen if that image failed?”

“Madeleine…”

“It would be so easy.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Maybe you have a temper?” Her eyes widened. “Maybe you spend more time in the cellar than previously thought? Maybe certain members of your staff are afraid to be near you in the evening?”

“They would never believe such things.”

“Maybe so, yet it was so easy for the public to believe you were holding Rayne hostage last year.”

Liam’s jaw tightened. “This is blackmail.”

“No, dear.” Madeleine smiled again. “This is security. I gave you three weeks, but I won’t cover for you again. You must commit to your formal duties, which will leave Rayne to care for those two alone. You know she is stubborn enough, but how could you let her suffer?”

He didn’t respond immediately, but met her gaze, mind racing as he tried to escape the box she had forced him into.

“I can split my time effectively.”

“You are running solely on caffeine and it isn’t yet noon. You look as if you haven’t slept in days. You will sacrifice your health, and the country will suffer as a result. You need to let me help her, Liam. And you. And your children.” Madeleine glanced at a photograph at the corner of his desk – a smiling photo of himself and Rayne on tour – and sighed. “The heirs to the Cordonian throne need to be taught right, starting now, by someone who understands the gravity of their responsibilities.”

He cleared his throat and considered her case, sipping his coffee, now cool, and measuring his words. “Rayne is the most capable person I know. I trust her completely in the care and upbringing of her children. Appoint help if you must, but if she refuses, respect that.” They locked eyes for a moment. “I will manage my responsibilities regardless.”

Her resolve shifted then, and she ended the discussion. “When the time comes to choose, I hope you remember that I tried to help you.” She swivelled and left the room.

Liam pressed a thumb and forefinger against his temples, mind echoing with Madeleine’s threats and his responses. The lengths she was already willing to go to in order to manipulate him was potentially a precursor to more serious threats in the future. If Rayne wanted assistance he would source it in a heartbeat, but he doubted that would be her choice. Regardless, they would need to be ready.

Drake

Walking into Rayne’s apartments was like walking into another world. He could see why Liam preferred it. The royal apartments were tall and dark and impressive; every vestibule emitted a sense of grandeur, as if the monarch needed reminding of their own wealth and rank. These apartments were smaller, the ceiling lower, and the whole place bright and warm. Natural light shone through open windows to the expansive room, and only upon conscious observation did he realise the lights weren’t even on. There was so much warmth here, beyond the physical sense, and he felt calmer just being here as he crossed to the window.

Liam still worked in his office, not looking to be finished any time soon, and Drake had thought to offer company to Rayne, meagre as it was, as she adjusted again to his absence. As it occurred to him he didn't know where she was, he registered voices in an adjoining room.

"I appreciate the offer but as I have said, I don’t need another set of hands. I am managing fine."

"I have been appointed by the Queen herself to assist. She wishes to ease the pressure on your shoulders, given King Liam has returned to his duties."

The voices approached from the hall leading the the bedrooms and Rayne stepped in, followed by a young, neatly dressed woman with a kind face. Rayne didn’t seem to notice him at first. She cradled Leo in her arms and faced the woman calmly. Drake stood awkwardly beside the window, unsure whether to announce himself or not, and wondered if she realised the kind of authority she commanded.

"Please thank her for the effort but I assure you it is unnecessary," she said, moving through the room. "If, in the future, I require assistance, I will ask for it." She reached the door to the hall and opened it, turning back to the room. For a brief moment, their eyes met. He smiled awkwardly, and she seemed mildly surprised, then smiled and winked. The young woman seemed to struggle with herself for a moment, and sighed.

"As you wish." She gave Rayne a short bow. "You have my credentials and contact information."

"I do, thank you." Rayne nodded, and ushered out the woman, who paused on the threshold, bowed again, and left. Drake was sure that one was to Leo. Rayne shut the door and turned back.

"Hey, Drake." Rayne rested her cheek against Leo’s head, swaying as she moved away from the door and looking as if she'd been doing this for years, not weeks.

"What was that about?" He asked, gesturing at the door. She rolled her eyes.

"Nothing important. Just our benevolent queen trying to force a nanny down my throat."

He chuckled. "Went well for her."

"I don't know what she expected. That I'll suddenly roll over and submit? Cold day in hell." She glanced at the door, then back with a smirk. "You seem surprised. Expecting more New York Waitress than King Liam’s Mistress?" Her accent was still there, but like his it had been watered down and changed in her time here.

"You know that isn't who you are, right?" he said, settling on the arm of a lounge chair.

"Relax, I'm just teasing. For them, though…" She sighed, then focused on her son as he began a quiet protest. "Shh baby, it’s okay. Mommy's okay," she cooed, patting his back. He quieted, and she kissed his head. "There we go."

Drake realised, again, how little he knew about parenting and children. Rayne, conversely, took on this role with as much natural confidence as she did answering the press, calming citizens, and charming nobles. She looked up again.

"I know that many people see me at face value. I'm just the mother—"

"Those are the people Madeleine has poisoned, they—"

"Drake, listen, please." She stopped him, and waited a moment before continuing. “You know as well as I do that refusing to consider an opposing perspective makes us no better than those who think ill of us. I can’t judge them for their beliefs, nor can I ask them to change, but I know I am more than what they say.” She paused, then exhaled sharply. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Then why are you resisting?”

Rayne tensed, lips pursed, and looked away from him. He had crossed a line. Again.

“Why do I keep having the same conversation with everyone?” she said, exasperated. “The only person who has respected my decision from the beginning is Liam. This is my choice, Drake.” In her arms Leo stirred again. Her expression softened as she turned down to him, then back. “Excuse me.”

As she left the room, Drake ran both hands over his face and cursed his tactlessness. He had come here thinking she might like company, but his challenges were straining their relationship. It wouldn’t be the first one he had ruined. Surely though, after enough attempts, Rayne would see how capable she was, and change her mind.

It took a while for her to return, but when she did he knew for certain it wouldn’t be today.

“Do you understand how little control I have over my life?” she said, seeming much taller than she was. “This is my life, my decision. I will not fall back on expectations because you think it is the best course. You do not decide for me, and do not presume it is your place to try.” She met his gaze unflinching, and after a moment, he nodded.

“You’re right,” he conceded. And stubborn, and brave, and exhausted… “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” Satisfied, she closed her eyes and visibly calmed herself somehow, before sitting on the arm of the next chair with a smile that made him nervous. “Now, I’m glad you came. I have a question for you.”

There seemed an audible click in his mind as he connected her tone with the question. “I really don’t think—”

“Why haven’t you asked Olivia out yet?”

He stared at her, less prepared than he should be considering he’d been asking himself the same thing. “Because I…” he cleared his throat, then assumed what he hoped was a convincing attempt at nonchalance. “Even if I was interested, there’s no way she’d agree.”

Olivia was coming to the palace in a few days, and sure they had a few things planned, but that was all casual. Rayne rolled her eyes.

“Not with that attitude she won’t. Come on, it’s not as if you’re asking her to run a kingdom. She isn’t going to agree if you never actually ask her, and she isn’t going to wait forever.” She grinned, but he was saved from fumbling for an answer by a knock on the hall door. They both turned.

“Expecting anyone?” he asked. She shook her head.

“Maybe Liam is back early?” The hope in her voice was painful to hear. Liam wouldn’t be back for hours.

“I don’t think so,” he said, suddenly unsettled. “I’ll get it.” He stood and stepped forward but she held up a hand.

“You stay right there. Work on that answer.” Rayne winked at him and approached the door, but there was tension in her shoulders.

She paused with a hand on the doorknob, then squared her shoulders, pulled it open, and froze.

---- ----

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#choices the royal romance #trr liam #the royal romance #choices trr #trr fanfic #trr mc #liam x mc #trr #side by side

[qedart]

First off, I love all of your art and writing:

concerning the time-warp au:

do the same names ever get confusing? i'm sure Ice calls Mav "Pete" sometimes and vice versa. would it ever throw them all off or confuse them? Have the youngers ever thought of new names/nicknames? How are they referred to around the house?

On a separate note, do you think you'll delve into Tom's past in another comic? if you do, will he have the opportunity to share a parental/brotherly moment with Ice?

p.s. i commented a very similar note on your latest chapter on ao3, so feel free to respond wherever's easier!

Thank you so much for this ask! I’m glad that you’re enjoying the au (and my writing, it’s been so long, so thanks for that haha). 

Now, to your question: Oh I definitely think there’s been some mild confusion, but nothing crazy. Now, full disclosure, I was one of those people that used to have at least one or two other kids in the class with the same name as me, so I’m leaning into that experience for this (I actually share a desk with somebody who has the same name, so this is day to day thing now lol). Essentially yeah, you look up when it turns out you didn’t have to every now and then, but it’s not really a huge hassle or that tricky to navigate. 

I think they might have covered the ‘hey, so if you want to have a new identity and start fresh - now’s the perfect time’ point during the ‘so it looks like you’ll be sticking around’ talk. But Pete and Tom are stubborn little shits. 

Seriously, Mav coulda changed his name and saved himself a hell of a lot of hassle/harassment back in the day and he still stuck with it anyway - no way Pete’s changing it just to avoid a little confusion. And I feel like Tom’s got a bit of a ‘my mother gave me this name. I’m not just gonna drop it’ thing going on. So, like I said, stubborn. 

Mav and Ice leaning a little more strictly into their callsigns is the work around that they’ve settled on though (and it was the primary way they addressed each other before all of this regardless, so not too much of a mental-transition). Is it fool-proof, no. But it gets the job done 90% of the time. 

Now, regarding Tom and his background, that’s absolutely part of the plan. Pete’s been a bit front and centre the last few updates but it’s definitely swinging Tom’s way soon, don’t worry about that. 

I hope that all made sense and thanks again for your ask(/and comment :D). I hope you enjoy what’s to come!! 

#time warp au asks

[monstersinthecosmos]

September 18, 1973

Daniel isn’t a morning person, but he’s so alert when the alarm goes off.

Still dark out, which he wanted. Promised himself he’d get up. Final gift to himself that he can look back on later. 

And still dark when he’s dressed, when he gets a free cup of coffee from the hotel lobby, when he gets in his car. The roads are empty and quiet as he weaves across the city, wondering if he’ll still be here this time tomorrow.

He finds a spot in Audubon Park, the place Louis mentioned. Sits in one of the benches by the water to watch the sunrise.

Something serene had come over him last night, after he had found the address. And he drove by it again afterwards to put his eyes on it. Parked across the street and watched it for a while. The Daniel that had driven across the United States in a frenzy would’ve gone inside immediately, would’ve been banging on the floors trying to wake him, but he feels okay now. Thinks he should be patient, he should try to have a nice dinner, take this moment. 

One more day.

So the sun comes up. He closes his eyes as the warmth hits his face. He breathes the humidity, the taste of the river on the air. He wants to keep this moment, to remember it.

He’s kind to himself, all day. This final day. 

Treats it like a vacation, trying the food New Orleans thrusts upon him. Beignets and muffuletta and gumbo. Praline for desert. Sazerac. 

He watches the sunset in Jackson Square and there’s a jazz band playing in the restaurant where he has dinner. He imagines interviewing the trombonist afterward. Something about him. 

But that was another life. 

Kind to himself, because he knows this is it. 

He heads back to his hotel once it’s dark out, to pick up the tapes. He wonders if he should call his mom, but doesn’t feel bad when he decides not to. 

One day, if his parents ask the right people, they’ll trace him to New Orleans. They’ll figure out he was working for the radio station, that his last known call was to leave the number of the hotel. No guilt, just serenity, happy to leave it behind as he leaves for Lestat’s.

Like he’s a new person, shedding a skin, as he cuts through the vines on the front gate. It’s not even locked. The front door is in such a state of rusted neglect that it breaks right open. 

Moonlight comes in through the windows, through the oak branches, enough to spill across the rows and rows of books, stacked to the ceiling. Sick to his stomach as his eyes sweep across, as he digs a flashlight out of his bag to see better. 

Not sick with dread, the way it’s been cycling through him since he met Louis. No, maybe something like butterflies. Something he can’t quite place. It’s more proof, he thinks; no human could have done something like this. Something this mad, this methodical. He remembers his tape collection, back in San Francisco. Each labeled, just exactly so, in the order he wanted them, perfectly aligned. The only thing in his life he had any control over, that he had the patience for. 

If these are Lestat’s books, if he’s done this, Daniel thinks he understands something of Lestat’s soul. 

He does a circle through the rooms on the first floor. Hundreds of books. Thousands, actually, he’s sure. In both French and English, and sometimes he isn’t sure what language, and so many of them are damaged so badly he can’t read the spines. The ones against the back wall of the dining room are covered in mold, near a broken window, and Daniel wonders how long they’ve been here.

The wood creaks beneath him as he heads upstairs. Slowly, trailing one hand along the wall, unsure if he should trust the bannister. Too dark to make out the paintings on the walls, but his fingertips graze across their heavy wood frames. He wonders how long Lestat lived in this house, if it had ever been a real home to him. If the art was incidental. If he’d truly read all these books.

It’s enough to stop him, at the top of the stairs, wondering how this could happen. 

Thinking about everything Louis had to say about his vampire nature, about his senses, about his perception of pleasure. 

Daniel’s dad used to have those fits sometime, the nightmares. And Daniel felt the heaviness now and then. His mom used to call it the blues, but shooed him out of the bed anyway. Made him go to school. 

And he never really told them why he dropped out. 

Working for the station let him live outside that box, let him sleep in, gave him some breathing room. But he had those days in San Francisco, too. Like when he finally tapped out, knowing he’d never make up all the school he’d missed last time he had an episode.

What about vampires, though?

Do you stay in your house for decades, and surround yourself with books, until you bury yourself in the ground? Do you obsess until you’re completely walled in?

Lestat, are you here? he thinks. He tries saying it loud, but his voice is swallowed by the dust and mold.

Forward, into the darkness. Into a bedroom with the skeleton of a four-poster. The window is broken out, moonlight filling the room with a white glow, roses crawling in over the splintered wood. Something shining on the floor, in the middle of the rotting carpet, and he points his flashlight, kneels to touch.

He feels like an explorer as his fingers caress the smooth gold, like he’s been pushing through a jungle, like he’s finally found the temple. More evidence, even if no one else believes him. He turns the watch over to see the Lestat de Lioncourt carved in delicate letters.

This was Charlie’s problem, maybe. Not that he didn’t have proof that someone else might believe, but that he cared if someone else believed. Daniel rubs his thumb across the gold, swiping away the layer of dust, and knows this is enough. Other people don’t factor into it anymore, not really. Not for Daniel. He’s not sure humans matter anymore. 

He rises, breathes in the dust and mildew. It’s a soft smell, cozy in its own right. Comforting, to be here at last. This close.

Did Lestat ever use this room? He wonders again if this place was ever truly a home. Or was it just somewhere he stayed, the way Daniel stayed in all those gross motels. 

The armoire in the corner groans as he opens it, the wood swollen shut. Full of moth eaten clothes, but they look like they could be from a fairy tale. Yellowed lace and stale velvet, and a black frock coat that falls apart when he touches it. 

He can see Lestat in these clothes, just like Louis described him. Convinced still that he can imagine Lestat’s face, that Louis had transferred it to him somehow. Too radiant, the way Louis was. But maybe he’s beneath the house, hurt and tired, as dusty as everything else.

A car passes outside, splashing light into the room, the shape of the window dancing across the ceiling. And Daniel tries to remember what day of the week it is. What year. He watches a spider on the windowsill and for a moment he feels like he can hear all the creatures in the house; rats beneath the floor and snakes in the garden. Even the termites, chewing through the walls of books. He sets his bag down and sits on the floor, near the window, in a pool of moonlight, and tries to listen for Lestat’s heartbeat.

Daniel isn’t sure how long it’s been since the night he met Louis. Maybe a week, maybe two. His hands move over the tape deck the way they have every night, and he’s so reverent in the way lines the tapes up in the correct order. The stiffness of the plastic case is so familiar now, and then schick as he sets the tape inside. And the way the play button clicks, the tiny squeak of the gears as it begins to roll.

And the static, the room tone from the recording. 

“You weren’t always a vampire, were you?” his voice asks. 

Or, someone’s voice asks. Daniel doesn’t think he’s that boy anymore. Sounded nervous already, unsure if he’d made a mistake, if the interview was safe.

“No,” Louis answers. “I was a twenty-five-year-old man when I became a vampire, and the year was 1791.”

“1791,” Daniel repeats, on the tape. And no one likes their own voice, but Daniel doesn’t mind because it’s not his anymore. But the boy sounds like he’s out of breath, and he’s stuttering a little as he asks the follow up. “How did it come about?”

“There’s a simple answer to that,” Louis says gently. So gently, and his voice is so soothing, even through the tape. Daniel turns the volume up, hoping Lestat will hear it. “I think I want to tell you the real story.”

“Yes.”

Daniel has listened to this a dozen times by now, each time further away from it, less and less the interviewer. He pats his pockets down for his cigarettes, lighting one as he stares down at the little speaker, letting Louis’s voice soak into him with the nicotine.

“There was a tragedy.”

[previous day] | [next day]

#vamptember #vamptember 1973 #vampire chronicles #daniel molloy #stuff i wrote

[inklessletter]

Hello!

I hope, this message finds you in good health and a pleasant day will follow after it. I guess, I just wanted to say thank you?

I opened your blog thanks to your works (absolutely stunning, by the way; I especially like the way you work with light and how the poses and facial expressions of the characters are fused into a soft mood, an atmosphere of great delicacy, almost elusive magic), but I was struck by what a pleasant, amazing and wonderful person you are besides that.

Of course, I can't claim to know you. But know, that sometimes these glimpses of your personality and worldview in your posts feel as good as a cup of the best coffee in the city you are passing through, like the most affectionate cat in white socks, which you will never see again, but who let you pet him, and like a fantastic song performed by a street musician that disappears the next morning. Something so brief, but beautiful. And at such moments, I believe, you remember, that you love people and love life. So, thank you.

Can only wish for you to stay true to yourself, always find pleasure in creativity and have the opportunity to love and be loved. If sometimes the first one seems difficult – go and find that coffee, that cat, that musician, I know that the beauty in the world will respond to your beauty. If the latter seems impossible, remember that there are probably dozens more people like me – a little bit charmed by you.

I apologize in advance for possible mistakes, I'm not a native speaker.

Goodbye!

Not gonna lie, I don't really want to answer this because I want this in my inbox for ever, so I can look at it anytime I want to, but that's selfish, I need to tell you, Anon, that if you spread this kind of love, this kind of positivity, I need to get back to you, even if I don't know who you are.

Honestly, I don't really know how to answer this message. Anon, this was probably one of the most wholesome, heart felt things I've ever been told. This is just so, so beautiful, and I'm struggling with the fact that I might not have a mental lexicon that I can use to express how this has made me feel. My presence has never been compared to a stray cat allowing you to pet them, or your favorite song perfectly performed for you just once in your life.

You nailed one thing about this, and this is the feeling I constantly attempt to address in people. That's what I want to be, ephemeral joy, someone that made something that made you smile today. I have never told this, like, publicly, but as silly as it may sound, a few years back I used to join to random chats and just talked to people, because I know what it feels to not being able to talk openly to anyone. So I became that anon, that faceles, nameless entity that helped them spill out whatever was stuck in their chests. When they started asking for my socials, I just knew it was time to jump to another random person. Didn't want to be found, didn't want to run into that person anymore because my job was done. Fleeting nice encounter, nothing more.

Your message has just struck me in the best way. Thank you so, so much for your great words and your loving feelings and wishes. Just by the way you write I can see that you're a beautiful soul that know how to find joy and I love that for you, because you too know how to give back that joy you find. That's a talent, and that's beautiful, and that's what keeps my faith alight.

There's good in the world, there's good in people, and this message is proof of that. I will remember that someone thinks of me as the best coffee in town, and as an affectionate stray kitten, as a favourite song, whenever I feel like I am worth nothing. I will remember this.

I will remember you, even if I don't know you.

Thank you so much, I hope you have the best life.

PS: I'm not a native English speaker either, but your message was flawless.

#inklessletter #personal #anon #caring #respect #loving #beautiful soul #thank you for this!

[cherrrysue]

hey do you have any fics where larry is in an established relationship but they’re keeping it secret for one reason or another ???

yesss here u go

Secret Relationship

the first one contained heavy amount of smut read at your own risk

We Keep Taking Turns by Ropewithnoanchor

E, 69K

The start of the On The Road Again Tour means new anxieties, this time for both Louis and Harry. Between performances, traveling, interviews, family time, and the biggest crisis their band has ever faced, they have to help each other feel better the only way they know how—through domination and submission.

[A relatively canon-compliant story of nights in hotels and bedrooms, starting in February 2015.]

Hands Clasped Tight by afirethatcannotdie

E, 44K

“What am I looking at here?” Harry asks.

“This, my friends, is a ‘proof’ Instagram account, run by your students,” Liam announces.

“It’s got all this stuff about how the two of you are together,” Niall adds.

“I heard about that,” says one of the math teachers. “Confiscated a kid’s phone today when they were looking at it. I have to say, the evidence that you’re dating is pretty damning.”

“Really,” Louis says dryly. “Do you think being married for three years might have something to do with it?”

Or the one where Harry and Louis are high school teachers and their students have been playing matchmaker for over a year. Little do they know, Harry and Louis are already married.

If You Asked Me If I Love Him (I'd Lie) by allyasavedtheday

M, 26K

So Harry and Louis might have fucked up.

The day of their wedding was the single most perfect moment of Louis’ life and every single day since where he’s been able to call Harry his husband has been nothing short of bliss. There’s just one teeny, tiny problem…

Their families don’t know they’re married.

*

Or the one where Harry and Louis eloped but neglected to mention it to anyone. Meanwhile Lottie is getting married and the only way for them to not steal her thunder is by pretending they're just friends for the weekend. Featuring Harry and Louis as terrible liars who don't know the meaning of the word platonic and some Tomlinsons and Styles's who definitely don't believe them.

Into The Midnight Sun by summerwine

E, 63K

Every day without Louis was a never ending blue Monday. Every day went without his sweetness and warmth and the radiant colours of his flame. The tenor of his voice became unfamiliar and muddled between going so long without the sound of it and getting lost with every other voice clouding Harry’s memory.

But he was here now, warming Harry’s bones with lips like summer. Every moment in his arms felt like a Sunday stroll through London. Beautiful and stormy and feeling every bit like home.

or, It's 1983, Harry embarks on his first world tour and Louis is a budding actor in LA. Life spent apart isn't easily adjustable, but somehow they make it work.

Call Answered by vondrostes

E, 249K

The day after his 27th birthday, Harry Styles attempts suicide. Louis is flown to his bedside to unravel the mystery of why he did it after a flash drive is found with a note attached, addressed to Louis. On it are a collection of 78 songs, all written for different dates from their past.

You Watched Me Sink by bananasandboots

E, 38K

They've discussed it a few times - the boyfriend thing. It's not like it's some forbidden, horrific, abandon hope all ye who talk about furthering the relationship sort of subject. They're mature adults. They're in tune with their feelings, their hearts' desires, the way those butterflies swoop in their bellies whenever they so much as hold each other's hands. They like each other. A lot. It's mutual, they know. But for now, they're just content to enjoy the simplicity of what they have, and what they have is great.

When dating in secret stops being enough, then they'll discuss that too.

Or, the one where Harry teaches Sex Ed and sneaks around with the drama teacher, and doesn't realize how out of tune he is with his true feelings until everyone else figures it out for him.

Lover Boy by brightgolden

E, 27k

“I’d love to meet your lover boy one day,” Lottie says suddenly as she pours Louis a whiskey on the rocks after their dinner. OR Where Louis wants to tell everyone about his relationship with Harry, but his boyfriend clearly thinks otherwise.

please leave a like or reblog ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

#ps. i only recommend fics that i like and read already #so it's guaranteed not a fail hehe #harry styles #louis tomlinson #larry stylinson #oh btw anon sorry for the ~2years late reply lol #larry fic recs

[ribbonstrawberrysurprise]

The bonus pages from the last volume of Au Lait/Ole.

(Scans from @hikayagami​ )

Transcript under cut:

PAGE 1

Bonus Manga

Newly Drawn: I Love You Forever

Ayato:  Now... This is the real finale. Are you alright not telling Shibuya, Yoyogi...? About your LOVE, that is.

Shizuka: ...huh?

Ayato:  The whole reason you slipped up and got killed by that octopus is because you were shaken up by what "Shibuya" said, right?

“Aoi”: “I really... hate you!”

Ayato: It was just mimicry, but that's still proof you love Shibuya!

Shizuka: “Love”... I see. Along those same lines, back when it imitated you, I felt even more ready to fight, which means--

Ayato:  I'll pretend I didn't hear that.

PAGE 2

Ayato:  Regardless, you should tell Shibuya how you feel! This is the finale, after all!

Taichi:  Wha...what are you saying all of a sudden, Roppongi-san...?

Ryuusei:  It's the end, so he wants t' see somethin' interestin'.

Shizuka:  "Tell him how I feel",... huh?

Aoi:  Haaah. I'm beat. I'm back

Shizuka:  That's right. Back then, it definitely hurt to hear that.

“Aoi”: “I really hate you!”

Shizuka:  When I heard those words, there was something I wanted to say to him.

Aoi: ? What’s up, Yoyogi?

Shizuka:  Shibuya...

Aoi: Hm?

PAGE 3

Shizuka: Bastard. How dare this impertinent mouth say some nonsense like “I really hate you,” to me.

Aoi: Eh?

Shizuka:  You're not a pet dog, after all. You're just a pet cat biting my hand.

Aoi: Eh? Huh?!

Shizuka:  If you're rebelling against your master, it seems I still haven't conveyed my love to you.

PAGE 4

Shizuka:  I need to make you understand just how much there is.

Aoi:  W-wait, what are you saying...?  Walking up to me and-- Gyaaaaa!! Ayato:  Well, that's that... That's Yoyogi's "I love you"...

Taichi: Are you serious?! Was this just for your own amusement?!

Ryuusei: ‘n they lived happ’ly ever after.

Aoi:  Don't make this end with that as a punchline!!

The End

PAGE 5

Postscript

Thank you so much for reading the final volume of Tokyo Mew Mew Ole! Ole started out as a boy version of Tokyo Mew Mew, a work that's loved by so many people. Behind the scenes, as Shibuya and the others were fighting Chimera Anima, I was fighting to absolutely never draw anything that looked bad! *sweats* It felt like I was fighting an enormous pressure for two and a half years. (lol)

Now that the last part has finished, the story has successfully reached its conclusion! As I am writing this postscript, I keep switching among feeling a sense of accomplishment, happiness at having been able to immerse myself fully in the setting of my beloved Tokyo Mew Mew, and loneliness. (lol)

Tokyo Mew Mew was special for me. Back when it was being serialized, I was already obsessed with it. Even after becoming a manga artist, when my editor asked about my favorite manga, I talked passionately about Tokyo Mew Mew as much as I could. 

When I met the person in charge of Nakayoshi for the first time, as always, I talked about my love for Tokyo Mew Mew, but to think I'd get the chance to be involved with my beloved Tokyo Mew Mew after that...!

"I might be able to change the future," is one theme of Ole.

The thought is that continuing to say "I love you" gave rise to this future, and I really do believe that's true 😊

PAGE 6

Thank you so much for making the wonderful work called Tokyo Mew Mew, Mia Ikumi-sensei.

Again, to all of the readers who supported me as I spent a dream-like time these 8 volumes...

thank you so much for the amazing time!

-Madoka Seiduki 😊

[ADDRESS TO SEND LETTERS]  

I was in charge of Tokyo Mew Mew, and now, 20 years later, a boy version was created. I'm extremely grateful to Madoka Seiduki-sensei for creating this wonderful work with such beautiful art and monologues that touch your heart. Also, to the readers who have read until the end, thank you very much.

-Masato Sekiya

#Translation #Tokyo Mew Mew Ole #Tokyo Mew Mew Au Lait #Tokyo Mew Mew Ore

[sweettjrose]

Detective Mickey Pilot P.2

Hello everyone,

I finally finished part two. I think based on the pattern of these two parts, I may try and make this a weekly thing. Though I think there should be at least 3 more parts left (But I expect that to change as I work on it)

Again I am so thankful for your support as I mostly just try to get something I've been thinking about out of my head. If you are new, this is a second part of what is my idea for a pilot of a Detective Mickey show. You can find more information in part 1, which I will be linking to.

Without further ado, here is part 2. (Ha that rhymed)

Previous Part: X

Next Part: X

Improved Version: X

Mickey arrives at the address with no issue. Brimming with excitement about what this could all lead to. He looks up at the sign that reads “Louise’s Pawn Shop”. It is a little off kilter, and actually falls to the ground immediately. But Mickey still manages to retain a smile before entering in. The place seems to be a bit of a mess at first glance, but is actually somewhat organized the more you look. Despite being open, Mickey doesn’t see anyone prompting him to call. He instantly gets hounded by a small but feisty poodle woman asking him many questions about whether he is a ghost, what he is doing here, and if he is here to steal. Mickey introduces himself and assures her that he is just a journalist here to write a story about the missing camera. At first she is confused as to why a missing camera would be enough for a story, but then realizes that you gotta start somewhere and any attention is better than none. She explains that she is Louise, the proud owner of this store. She is one of the best pawn shop owners around, has a perfect record of everything in her store with the best security system found anywhere within the country. She is very thorough with her inventory checks and knows every single item that has left and entered her store and for 50 long years she has never suffered from a single theft… That is until yesterday. 

She points to an empty area in one of the glass cases and remarks that there used to be a camera there, a “Little Korker V39”, but when she came in this morning and checked the stock it was completely missing. It has been sitting there for weeks, but just randomly disappeared all of the sudden. Mickey takes some pictures of the area with the colorful boxy camera around his neck and starts to ask questions. She doesn’t take too kindly to any questions about her misplacing it or forgetting about selling it as she claims that despite her age she is still as spritely as ever. But when Mickey asks questions about anything else missing, she notes that only that camera is gone. As he looks around for clues, he asks if she noticed anything odd in the store such as any proof of theft. Louise remarks that is what makes this “theft” odd. Nothing is out of place and there are no signs of anyone or anything getting in or out. There aren’t even signs about her security system going off. In fact even when she checked the security cameras. The Little Korker was there and then gone in the next second, therefore there must be a ghost behind this. Mickey, also struggling to find anything of note, immediately perks up on the mention of security cameras and tries to ask about them. Unfortunately the poodle lady appears to be on a rant about who the ghost might be, wondering if it was her 2nd ex husband Robert who was always jealous of her business acumen. Mickey does manage to get her attention and she takes him to a small tv in her office and shows the recording of the night. 

Just as she said the camera appears in the glass case, but then instantly disappears. Louise again goes on about how this must be a ghost as there is no other possible explanation. Mickey however notices that there is a very difficult to see slight reflection in the glass that appears to be reflecting a clock on the wall. He asks to rewind the footage and when focusing on the clock he notices that as the camera disappears that clock also jumps about 10 minutes. He points this out trying his best to take a picture with his trusty camera and write down the observation. He notes that it appears whoever did it must have altered the footage somehow. She remarks that it is impossible since the recording is done through the security system, which again is one of the best in the country. Mickey asks to see it and they head over to what appears to be a large panel filled with a ton of blinking lights, switches, and knobs. Mickey's face drops as he realizes that he has absolutely no frame of reference to understand this. Seeing the confusion on his face the lady shows him an app on his phone which is much easier to understand. She shows how the system usually tells her if the security is affected in any way even being turned off. But oddly she has absolutely no notices about anything odd last night. 

Mickey takes note of this and remarks that whoever is behind this, must be very crafty to find a way to bypass this. As he continues to write notes, someone comes into the door ringing the bell. Louise appears to be ready to ambush the person just as she did to Mickey before, but then stopped when she recognized the face and greeted the large pelican woman calling her Susan. Susan very cheerfully greets the other woman and asks if she is ready to get some lunch. Susan then notices the young mouse writing away as well as the freaked out expression on Louise. After inquiring on what is going on, Louise and Mickey fill her in on the situation. She seems a bit surprised at the news, and a little confused on why this would warrant a news article, but I guess everyone starts somewhere. She points out that she happens to have a couple of the Little Korker Cameras at her own pawn store across the street and maybe Louise could use one as a replacement, sort of as a thank you for all the help she provided over the years. She also notices the camera around Mickey’s neck and points it out as a nice looking Polarbearoid. Mickey thanks her and mentions that it was his very first camera and he named it Ol’ Reliable. He bought it with his own allowance and has taken care of it ever since. He also asks to join as maybe investigating the cameras can bring a clue to why this one was stolen. Susan agrees and they head off to her store, debating with Louise on whether ghosts are real. 

They enter what appears to be the storage room of Susan’s store as she starts to go through boxes. She brings out a couple of cameras, some of them Little Korkers, but Louise remarks that she needs the V39 as that was the specific one she lost. Susan responds that she actually has two of those, but as she goes to look where she put them… She finds two empty spots where the cameras should be. The three are shocked, and Mickey instantly starts taking pictures and looking around for any clues. Susan panics and starts looking through her other boxes seeing what else might have been stolen, as Louise pesters her about any ghosts named Robert she may know. Eventually they realize that just the two cameras have been taken with again no traces of theft. Mickey inquires about the last time she has seen the cameras and Susan remarks she does monthly storage checks and they were there earlier this month, which was about a week ago. As she gets chided for such a lax storage check policy by the small poodle woman, Mickey asks her about her security system or any cameras. Susan remarks that she does have cameras aiming towards the doors, not at any of the boxes, and her system is a downgraded version of the one Louise has. As she gets chided again for such a lackluster security system, they head over to look over the footage of the doors, unfortunately however, there doesn’t seem to be anything that stands out despite rewatching it over and over again. 

Mickey remarks that it is quite odd that multiple of the same exact camera, down to the specific version, is missing, and that it appears that nothing else gets taken. He also notes that it is odd that there are absolutely no traces left and that their security systems don’t pick up anything. Perhaps there is a lot more to this case, than just a simple misplacement. Though he does feel bad for the ladies for losing their stock, he can’t help but feel a bit of excitement knowing that this could make a great story. And maybe he can help them get their cameras back. He asks them if they are aware of anyone else who may also have these cameras. The ladies remark that he could try other pawn shops around town, though that may take a while as there are quite a lot in Mouseton. After a pause Susan remarks that there was a weirdo who bought a lot of her cheaper cameras about a couple days ago, who claimed it was going to make him rich. Mickey asks who this person is and Susan shows a social media account for an account called “ The Camera King 📷👑” (@HHExpertOnAll). As Mickey looks through the account, which is currently filled with pictures of cameras with pretty detailed though a bit exaggerated descriptions, he realizes that he may know who this weirdo is. He thanks the ladies and assures them that he will find the thief, before bolting off. The ladies wave back though admit they are a bit confused on what he can do and should probably cut their losses.

On his way to his friend’s house, Mickey decides to stop at a place to get lunch and to continue to scroll through the account to read more about the Little Korker cameras. He starts to read through the explanation, but he is interrupted by his phone ringing. It’s the Editor in Chief. He nervously  answers the call only to get a barrage of shouts demanding to know where he is. Mickey tries to respond that he is on a new story, and that he sent multiple emails and voicemails about it, also adding how the case is really picking up. Only to be met with a barrage of laughter which then turns into anger. The voice over the phone tells him that he doesn’t know what kind of joke Mickey is trying to tell, but that if he is not in his office within the next hour, he will be fired. Defeated, Mickey packs up his lunch and starts to head over to his car. For a moment Mickey feels an urge to call back to argue why he should be allowed to continue this case, but as his finger grazes over the call button. He decides against it and gets in his car.

He enters the Mouseton Argus building, ignoring the usual glares, and sulks over to his “desk”. He tries to get started on his “work” but struggles as he can only think about the case. He is red hot on the trail and doesn’t want to risk missing anything. But he also doesn’t want to lose this job. He doesn’t even know why they want him here so badly, since they give him boring work and clearly don’t like him. If only there was a way to have them think he was here, so he can continue the case and can complete the work at home at a later time. As he looks at what appears to be a stack of paper plates next to an assortment of kitchen items, some pens, some tape, and some white balloons, an idea pops into his head. A worker stops by his desk annoyed asking what appears to be Mickey “what’cha starin’ at”. Only for the worker to leave and it is revealed that he was not talking to Mickey, but rather an assortment of paper plates, balloons, and other items that are humorously taped and colored to look like Mickey. In the window we can see Mickey getting into a ride share car (Like Uber) to head off to his next destination. 

Mickey is then dropped off at an old but sturdy apartment building and rushes up to one of the doors. Mickey knocks his usual knock, but is surprised as nothing seems to happen. He tries knocking again. But again hears nothing. Mickey decides to call instead, mentioning that he is at his door. All of the sudden the door swings open revealing a smiling horse with a bat in his hands.  It is of course Mickey’s dear though mischievous friend Horace Horsecollar. The horse gleefully chirps that he is happy to see it is actually Mickey and lets him in. Mickey tries to ask why he is on edge noticing the bat, but is stopped as Horace sweeps him up to take him to another room. The room is covered in boxes. Inside the boxes there are multitudes of different cameras all in different sizes, colors, and shapes. 

Horace immediately delves into a long explanation about how he finally found his passion. Mickey brings the “silkworm farm” that Horace was so sure was going to be his big money maker. Only for Horace to add that it didn’t work out as planned as what he thought were silkworm cocoons, were actually spider nests. But assures this time he has figured it all out. He has decided to become a camera expert and to go viral on social media by getting people educated and interested in camera history and nostalgia. Mickey is a bit surprised by the lack of financial incentive, until Horace adds that once people get really into cameras, he will sell them all at a high price and become extremely rich. There it is. Mickey however is a bit appreciative of this new hobby, since Horace tends to be pretty thorough in whatever new thing he gets into and maybe he can help with the stolen cameras. Oh yeah, stolen cameras. Mickey then starts to explain that he is writing a story about some missing cameras from a pawn shop. Horace is at first a bit confused on why that would be good enough for a story, but I guess everyone got to start somewhere. A bit annoyed, Mickey explains that he needs help from Horace as he was hoping if he could give any information he has on the Little Korker V39 cameras. Horace proudly states that he has 4 of those and would have no issue showing Mickey. He heads over and picks up a box showing it to Mickey… Only for the box to be empty. Mickey notes that he doesn’t see any cameras. Horace mentions pretty bluntly that it is because he was robbed… HE WAS ROBBED. Horace immediately starts to panic, before Mickey calms him down. Mickey mentions that people all around town have been robbed of these specific cameras and asks if Horace has any information on these cameras and why.

Horace calms down and thinks for a bit, looks at his phone, and then recalls that the Little Korker cameras were popular but cheap cameras from around the 80’s to the 00’s. Once phones started to come with cameras, they started to lose popularity and only really have value for nostalgia or hardcore collectors. He even points out that the company that made them also makes the same one Mickey currently has. In fact, noticing the camera he asks if Mickey is willing to sell it given the great condition, but Mickey takes it off and reminds him that Ol’ Reliable is special to him and he would never sell it plus they need to focus on the case at hand. Apologizing and returning to the original topic, Horace is confused as to why anyone would steal it as these cameras aren’t really that expensive or too valuable, or rather not yet he adds. Mickey takes note of all of this and confirms that there is definitely some kind of thief going around stealing these cameras. He ponders about what to do next and how he wishes he had one of the cameras now. Horace then brightens up and rushes out of the room, coming back with a box. He opens it revealing a Little Korker V39. Surprised, Mickey exclaims how he managed to still have one, to which Horace answers that he just recently bought it online to add to his collection, and it came after he got robbed.

Excited Mickey starts to examine the camera, but fails to see anything that really stands out. If anything, it seems of a much lower quality than his camera. He then starts formulating a plan to try and use the camera as bait to capture the thief. Before noticing the more hesitant expression on Horace. Mickey asks if it is possible for him to borrow the camera to catch the thief. But Horace worries that this is his last camera of that kind and now that there is a thief going around stealing them, they might be all gone. Mickey sighs and offers to pay to loan the camera off of him so if the camera does end up missing or broken, Horace will still have been compensated for it. This appears to calm Horace nerves somewhat and he agrees. Adding on that this case actually makes him excited to learn more about these cameras and he’ll alert Mickey if he finds anything that stands out. I mean perhaps he will find something that will make these cameras even more valuable to sell. Mickey nods and heads off to try his new plan.

We now cut to outside at night at what appears to be an alleyway between a single story and a double story building. Mickey appears to be finishing tying something and places the camera onto a trash can. He looks at his phone which shows a post he just recently made about finding a camera in this alleyway and leaving it behind in hopes that the “owner” will come by and find it. Surely enough anyone who will try and pick it up would likely be the thief, the thief probably learned about the cameras Horace had from his social media and with a reshare from Horace, they’ll learn about this. However, this time though there is a trap, one he learned as a Junior Woodchuck, waiting to catch them. Then Mickey will be prepared to question them, take pictures, and call the police… Wait, take pictures… Mickey feels around and realizes that he forgot his Ol’ Reliable at Horace’s place. Oh well I guess phone pictures will have to be good enough, though he never really liked using them. 

As he finishes his trap he climbs the fixed ladder next to the single story building and ends up on the top of the roof. He finds a good spot that will allow him to see the camera and the trap easily as well as be able to drop down quickly. The spot also allows him to hide in case some wandering eyes happen to look up. He could feel the excitement bubbling within him as he thought about what a great story this would be and how he could even help some old and new friends out. But he needs to focus, this is his big chance and he doesn’t want to blow it. He sits there focused on the camera and the trap for what appears to be a couple of hours. A little tired, but determined to not mess up. He is shaken as some thunder rumbles in the background. Crap, he hopes that there won’t be a thunderstorm, he could have sworn that the chance for one was low tonight. Maybe it will phase out. He focuses his attention back onto the camera, until he feels something touching the tip of his ear, ugh mosquitos. He swats at it and continues to focus. He feels another touch though this time more of a pinch on his ear. He swats at it again and curses the darned bugs. He can’t get distracted. This time he feels more of a tug and instinctively turns around angrily asking what is going on. And in that very second a lump forms in his throat. His heart instantly drops. The color drains from his face. As we pan out we see that the mouse is not alone this night on the roof, as he is met face to face with a pair of cold emotionless white eyes.

#mickey mouse #Mickey #Detective mickey #disney #mickey and friends #cartoon #cartoons #mickey comics #Disney fanfiction #mickey mouse and friends #disney channel #disney+ #phantom blot #blot #detective mickey pilot idea #pilot #pilot ideas #tv show idea

[kyra45]

If there’s one thing I’ll never really understand, it’s why scammers spend years stealing fundraisers and using them to get money in dishonest ways and then instantly get really angry when someone starts to call them out for it at some point. I mean, you’d think they’d sorta figure out by now that I know where their content is coming from because I pretty much went there myself in order to be more effective at providing proof their stealing someone else’s fundraiser. They post the content pretending their that person and within a few searches I’ll generally find proof they aren’t. Sometimes it’s from somewhere else and I won’t be able to find it. This only works for their pet posts and general posts are not as easy to locate even when searching around.

The scammers are getting money by stealing someone else’s name and not even telling people they aren’t actually the owner of the pet they claim is their own. There’s irony in getting mad at people who get money in honest ways while they themself get money by deception and lying to anyone they find sharing popular tumblr posts. They send asks to everyone they see and always tell people to answer it privately or send them a message it they’d prefer that.

And even when messaged, the scammers will still lie and make up information that they don’t know in order to still get money off of people who sometimes don’t know that scams like this are unfortunately a very common occurrence and have been happening long before I ever started documenting it. Scammers have even stolen fundraising posts for those who passed away and pretended that the one who passed away was actually their relative when all they did was just take the post and change some stuff up and call it a day.

You see, these scammers are likely just one person who doesn’t mind using multiple email addresses and support links to get their funds so even when one account is took down they’ll come back under a new one. When someone comments with any hint of suspicion or concern regarding legitimacy, the scammers will quickly delete the comment/reblog and block the user in an effort to hide any sign of suspicion that their not telling the truth. Now if they were honest, and the comment wasn’t rude or mean in any fashion, why would they hide it? It’s because they don’t want anyone seeing the comments that are saying their a scammer. If someone answers their ask calling them out, they block that account.

Perhaps even more noticeable proof that their not being honest is that, without fail, anytime they see a post with their url in it calling them out they’ll change the url several times over in an effort to evade detection. Which surely, by now, they’d realize is kinda pointless when they send out so many asks and all their posts will update to say it. Sometimes they’ll deactivate then come right back hours later using the exact same post to they had before with the same exact content they were using on their other blog. You’ll tend to notice this pattern after busting scam posts for a while.

Basically, scammers have so much free time in the world they’ll waste it by coming over here and get mad at like three different people who have spent a while proving their just stealing posts. And this has been a long post explaining just some tips on how scammers work.

#kyra45 speaks #longpost #long post #scam

[lorwolf-salt]

What you receive when you email A (names shortened to align with rules):

“I will start off with some backstory: Q was a volunteer moderator until he was promoted to Head Moderator last June. All seemed well until over time I became aware of his growing unprofessional attitude towards the community, his work, and other staff members. He has been reprimanded twice before for this unprofessional behavior.

I thought things would end with his first reprimand, but sadly, things continued. How he addressed the community was the second issue. His conduct in front of players resulted in moments of conflict where he’d agree with players and state to them that ‘he keeps trying to bash the right ideas’ into the developmental team’s heads. By acting un-unified with the Dev team, if left unchecked I felt that this would create a Dev vs. Head Mod/Playerbase environment. On top of this, Q did not present himself with an impartial attitude. Discussions with others would become quickly heated when he was proven wrong, and he became very agitated by any mentions of religious groups, holidays, or things he disagreed with. Contention continued to rise as his compilation of suggestions work was bullet points at best and full of swearing at worst. The back and forth over the lack of clarity caused a lot of friction between us.

His third reprimand came in January when he broke his contract to divulge lw’s developmental information to others. He claimed he was under the influence at the time, but this was not the first instance that he has shared things without my permission. After stating that we’d need to prioritize our professional relationship while remaining friends, I reassured him I wasn’t angry, just disappointed and needed some time to process. The morning after this professional discussion, he decided to inform me his desire to end his life. As you may already know, my mom passed away last year. What I haven’t told the community yet is that my mom took her own life as a result of her lifelong battle with depression, and I’ve been struggling with it ever since. Q was the first person on our mod team that I entrusted with this information, and yet he decided to put me in the position of wondering if someone I cared about was alive or dead. It was only when he reappeared to talk to a couple of our other moderators that I was informed he was alive. Knowing he was fine, I requested he not contact me as I take time to process. All of this occurred right around the one-year anniversary of my mom’s passing, which he was aware of, making it that much more difficult for me to deal with.

I realized that our friendship was unhealthy and that Q was not a suitable fit for Head Mod. Eventually, I explained this to him and that he was being let go - as this was not the only time he had reacted so strongly and negatively to professional criticism. He once again informed me, as well as a couple of our other moderators, of his intent to end his life. He disappeared for a length of time not letting any of us know if he was okay. When he finally messaged me, I was relieved he was alive, but I felt manipulated and re-traumatized. I explained this to him, wished him well in seeking help and once again asked him not to contact me. Again, he ignored this and continues to this day to do so.

I have also provided a link to a google drive folder where I have included records of our interactions during these events. I have blocked out names and graphic messages about suicide to safeguard the privacy and dignity of the parties involved. I have also deliberately left out many messages between these screenshots, which I felt were extremely personal in nature and sent by someone who was experiencing a crisis. I mean Q no ill-will by posting these messages, I simply want to show my side of the story and proof of his harassment. The screenshots provided are ordered by date the messages were sent, spanning from January - today. The initial instance that Q mentioned his intent to end his life, I unfortunately did not get a screenshot of before he deleted it. As you will see, Q frequently edited and deleted his messages - and I was not screenshotting our conversations at the time he started deleting his messages. When I blocked him on Discord, he proceeded to create alternate Discord accounts to rejoin the server, and he messaged me on Tumblr and emailed me directly. The screenshots of these conversations have been included as well.

In the months since this occurred, I have come to believe that Q knows intimate details about myself that I’ve never shared with him. Additionally, in speaking with our moderators I’ve learned that he essentially stifled communication between myself and the community by instructing users not to message me if he felt I didn’t want to be interrupted - which he did without my knowledge or permission. I entrusted him with being the voice of our community and to inform me of the player’s wishes, which he failed to do effectively in many ways.

As for his request for credits in the game for his work, he was fully compensated for all of his time and work spent on helping us with Lorwolf. I have no desire for Q’s name to appear anywhere on the intellectual property owned by our company, as I have been personally threatened, stalked, and harassed by this individual for several months now. Additionally, I feel incredibly manipulated by this person due to the fact they have forced my hand in revealing the private conversations I have had with them, and making me feel that I have to defend myself by revealing details about my personal life. This is not how I wanted our community to learn about how my mother passed. Because of this, and his own breaching of the contract to begin with, I will not be adding his name to our credits.

As a side note, we allowed Q to play Lorwolf until yesterday, but he has since been banned as a result of him posting this letter on Lorwolf.com, which contained suicidal ideation and other content not suitable for our playerbase. I hope this has helped to explain the situation, please let me know if you have any further questions.” Discord Screenshots:

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1blsevQGmKgLlzJNZhhr-9yXodQmdVF99?usp=sharing

Tumblr Screenshots:

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1TVlpEY95NJddwParyw4E7VVSwK_xapa7?usp=sharing

Email Screenshots:

https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1GxdL0TjpVn3S8zLt-gxPl7XW6hkM13nF?usp=sharing

and honestly after seeing everything, Q feels a lot like an ex boyfriend trying to get back together with her by guilt-tripping. I know this whole thing seems unprofessional and it probably is, but A is in an emotional state rn and i know I wouldve reacted much worse

#long post #submission

[literaryobsession]

caught in between || bakugo x reader x kirishima

summary: you find yourself in a complicated situation between your friends, katsuki and eijiro

warning: swearing, fic not proof read as per usual

Everything started in school.

You were simply just an onlooker really. Your class was filled with extraordinary kids with all kinds of quirks. You were in awe of them.

Of course, to be able to be in the coveted Hero course, you had to be talented too. You were, that's why Eijiro Kirishima first approached you.

"That was crazy manly!" He exclaimed as he got closer. You looked up, seeing this boy light up under the sunlight was a sight for sore eyes. "How exactly does that quirk of yours work?" Eijiro pulled the seat in front of yours and settled in, even without an invitation.

"Uh, hello." You laughed, unused to his kind of friendliness. It has been so long since you made friends. All of your other friends, you met when you were little and you weren't given too much opportunity to make new ones.

Eijiro laughed, sensing the awkwardness of the entire thing. "Eijiro Kirishima! My quirk is hardening!" He said with that big grin of his that showed his sharp teeth. For a shark-looking guy, he reminded you of a golden retriever.

You can almost imagine a tail behind him wagging in pure joy.

"My name is Y/N. My quirk?" You then addressed his question by letting a golden string appear at the tip of your pointer finger. "I create these strings out of my energy. They can hold anything a hand can. My quirk is kinda like...his."

You forgot Sero's name when you first talked to Kirishima.

"How long can it go?" Kirishima asked again as he watched your string move to grab a pen to start scribbling on Midoriya's open notebook.

"Mmm?" You then made the energy disappear, causing the pen to drop. "About fifty to sixty meters."

His eyes sparkled in admiration.

You met Bakugo in a much different circumstance. He was more aloof, more guarded than Kirishima.

"Watch it." He growled as you bumped into him by the door of the classroom. You grimaced at him, knowing how grumpy he can get.

"Ah! Don't be like that Kacchan!" Kirishima laughed, following him out and catching your eye. "You're scaring off our new friend."

"Our? Them?" Bakugo rolled his eyes at you. "I don't think so."

You were about to retort something that you thank Kirishima everyday that he interrupted you because it wasn't that funny anyway.

"What do you say you have lunch with us, L/N?" Kirishima asked as Bakugo walked off, radiating that bad mood he always seemed to have.

"Are you sure? I don't want the Pomeranian to bite me for invading his personal space." You laughed but Kirishima dragged you off anyway.

Not that you can ever say no to him.

"Why did you leave us, Bakubro? Don't you want us to join you?" Kirishima pulled out a chair for you as you two sat across Bakugo who already had food in front of him.

"No."

"You're always the sweetest, aren't you Bakubro?" You said, imitating Kirishima's positivity. It seemed to do so well in shielding yourself against Bakugo's harsh words.

Bakugo growled at you but said nothing else.

"Okay, what do you want to eat, L/N? Let me get something from you so you don't have to stand up." Kirishima offered as soon as Bakugo didn't reply.

Before you can give your food choices to him, Bakugo put sandwiches in front of you and Kirishima before rolling his eyes, "Bought fucking too much."

"Aw! L/N was right! You are the sweetest!"

Bakugo looked pissed, "Shut up before I fucking shove those sandwiches in your gaping mouths!"

You laughed this time, "Aw, you want to spoonfeed us?"

This caused Kirishima to laugh as well.

This was the start of an amazing friendship.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #boku no hero fanfic #katsuki bakugō #bnha eijiro kirishima #eijiro kirishima #eijiro kirishima x reader