#praying this isn’t absolute garbage

[laurrrelise]

✧ Assisting the Arrogant ✧

Derek Danforth x fem reader :)

^ (i listened this song endlessly while writing this so i thought i’d include it)

✧ Word Count: 3.9k

✧ Summary: You are the assistant to Derek Danforth, a disgustingly cocky, selfish billionaire with no sense of consequences. After you’re hired by his mother to help him with work and keep him out of trouble when Wallace Westwyld quits, it only takes one glance at the man to see it’s an impossible task. Still, you need the money she promises to pay, so it’s worth a shot…right?

✧ Tags: Derek Danforth x fem reader, super slow burn, mentions of drug use and prostitution, no pre-established relationship, no smut (yet, hopefully), angst, enemies to lovers, somewhat fluff, mature content (esp. going forward), Derek has mommy issues, reader has daddy issues, derek is literally just a sassy bastard the whole time

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You just want to live an alright life.

You had just alright grades in high school. Just alright friends. You want an alright job so you apply to an alright college. You naturally get in, opting to take online courses since your small apartment downtown is pretty far from any half-decent schools. You like being downtown, not in a huge city. You’re only a few hours away from Boston, but you’ve only been there once.

Your parents are huge political junkies. Your mom passed away a few years back, leaving your only direct family to be your dad, who generally sucks. He’s emotionally unavailable and prioritizes work over you. He always has, and it’s pretty safe to say that he always will. However, he accidentally found you a job. You weren’t even slightly interested when he reached out for the first time in over a year, but began to listen when he mentioned Jessica Danforth. The actual fucking president of the United States?

Yeah. That one.

Somehow, your dad knows her assistant. Said something about the woman herself looking for a glorified babysitter for her 28-year-old son, who is, in her eyes, essentially a failure. Derek Danforth, the billionaire CEO. Successful in some respects, of course. However, his worst, and dominating qualities, tend to be the fact that he’s an alcoholic and an addict who’s constantly doing illegal shit, and he’s generally an idiot. For fuck’s sake, he has a different prostitute with him each night and half of the time he livestreams everything to his crypto-obsessed billionaire friends. No wonder that Westwyld guy quit. It might have also been in part due to the fact that a seemingly sadistic, self-claiming “beekeeper” tried to kill Derek after he had a scandal surrounding an illegal scamming company go public, but who’s to say? Even without that whole situation, trying to keep this guy out of trouble seemed like a task that no one would even consider taking up.

Yet here’s Jessica, offering so much money that you would never have to work a 9-5 for the rest of your life to live comfortably. The guy’s an idiot, but he’s got to be harmless.

She proposes the idea of an assistant. You’ll help Derek at work (if that’s even what you want to call it) and discourage his bad decisions in his personal life. Maybe, in her eyes, having a pretty girl with her eyes and ears on him at all times will help him change and wipe her own reputation clean. You’d stay with Derek in his mansion in order to keep track of his behaviors closely and get paid more than handsomely to do so. Even with the scandals, who wouldn’t agree to do it?

So, of course, you do. Your dad is pleased, hoping it’ll boost his position, but you couldn’t care less. You want the money.

Jessica schedules a couple of calls with you, briefing you over Derek’s past and what his immediate future may look like. It’s complicated and, for a lack of better words, grimy. However, it doesn’t change the paycheck, so you nod along and smile politely. Filled with anxiety over her son’s future, she tells you that she’ll send a car to your apartment to escort you to Boston, where Derek resides, in about a week. You make your arrangements, careful to take account of anything that would be important to this huge change making its way into your life.

When the car shows up late on a summer afternoon, you’re somehow surprised to find that it’s a beautiful black limousine, accompanied by chauffeurs in suits who take your bags and open the doors for you. You try to relax, but it’s nearly impossible to not be anxious. A billionaire. With a disgusting attitude. Multiple people quit their handsomely-paying jobs because of him. It’s too much. Yet somehow, it feels like not enough. That is, until you arrive on the streets of Boston, your jaw dragging the ground as the mansions you pass reflect off of your eyes.

It’s sort of ridiculous. Some people just have too much money. Yet, somehow your pupils couldn’t be pried away from the luxurious homes.

You anxiously begin scanning the house in front of you as the car makes a turn into its driveway. This is the one? This is your new home? Where you’re going to be living?

The house’s size makes you feel nauseous. You’re going to get lost in this place every 5 minutes. You pray to God Derek has maps of the layout.

It’s surreal, to say the least.

The chauffeurs open your door as you step out of the vehicle, mouth continuing to hang open in awe. You’re never going to be able to adjust to living here. They carry your bags to the doorstep, waving you a friendly goodbye as you stand in front of the dark double doors. You raise your hand to the wood in determination to get this reluctant interaction over with, but it hovers there. Your knuckles can’t even reach the surface of the door, your nervousness won’t allow it.

You take a deep breath, rapping your fist on it anyways. Your foot taps subconsciously as you try to keep yourself composed. Christ, you haven’t even met the man and somehow you’re already a mess.

The door opens suddenly. And Jesus, it’s certainly him.

His mother described him as “flashy” and “eccentric”. Were those the right terms? Who knows? The dark green and white checkered silk button-up, unbuttoned halfway, revealing his dark chest hair, tucked into retro white flared pants hanging over dark brown cowboy boots. A shimmering diamond earring attached to his left ear, a thin diamond chain on his neck. Dark brown hair with frosted tips, curls styled meticulously.

A cigarette perfectly fits in the crack of his lips, his displeased expression only making your anxiety double as his eyes scan from your shoes to your head. You can’t say anything. Your voice ceases to exist. Unfortunately, his doesn’t.

“Can I help you?” His flat, unbothered tone is annoying, to say the least. His eyes land on the few bags at your feet, his brows lowering in a confused expression.

You swallow, trying to crack out a sentence. “Hi, I’m your new assistant? You’re… Derek, right?”

He pulls the cigarette from his lips, blowing smoke into your face. “What do you think?” he asks, sarcasm overriding any possible signs that he could be attempting politeness.

“I think you probably are.” You try to give him a smile, but he simply crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe.

“I don’t need an assistant. And I certainly never hired one.”

You glance at your feet, your nervousness drowning you in shivers as you try to figure out how to respond. She didn’t even tell him I was coming? Goddamn it.

“Your, uh… your mom hired me.” You try to smile again, and it’s met with a subtle scowl.

“She would‘ve told me if she hired an assistant.”

“Yeah, I thought so, too. But I gues-“

He shoves a hand in your face, cutting you off as he pulls out his phone to call someone and slams the door in your face. You hear muffled yells, clearly coming from his mouth by the whiny yet cocky tone that again overrides any attempts for him to sound like a friendly, decent human being.

These are great signs, considering you’ll probably be staying with him for a few years if all goes well. Maybe you could fake an accident or something, get some way to make a situation seem like it’s out of your control completely and quit, but still get some of the money she promised.

This guy is already pushing every button you’ve got.

You hear a final muffled yell, followed by the door swinging open slowly. He glares at you, clearly not happy. You just stare at him, waiting for any signs that he might accept that this is out of his control and let you in.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer. Or, stop gawking and get your ass in here.” Judging by his tone, he’s beyond pissed. Great.

You pick up a couple of your bags, squeezing through the door as he stands there tapping his foot out of annoyance. You place down your bags just inside the door, walking back outside to grab the rest. After all of the belongings you had to pack up on a whim are set neatly just inside his front door, you finally get a look at the house.

Right in front of the door, there’s a huge gold water fountain. Because of course there is. In fact, half of the house is drenched in gold. There’s two golden railings surrounding each side of the large double staircases on either side of the fountain. There’s a gold grand piano in the corner, gold plant vases everywhere, a gold chandelier, and just about everything else was white. Touches of overdone cheetah print are on display everywhere. Of course, there’s a taxidermy cheetah rug on the ground in front of the door. Gross.

Is this all real gold?

You pause for a moment, rethinking your own thoughts.

Of course it is. It’s probably all solid gold. And it was probably “chump change”. This guy’s a billionaire, I have to remember that.

Derek closes the door, taking another puff of his cigarette and dropping it in a (who would’ve guessed?) gold ashtray by the door. He puts his hands on his hips, an annoyed expression filling his entire face as he looks you up and down again. “Alright, listen sweetheart. You’re my assistant. I don’t give a fuck what my mom is paying you. You’re going to listen to me. We got it?”

You nod, hiccuping out of nervousness. He turns, starting to make his way to the left staircase. “Fantastic. Let’s go.” Of course, he could offer to help you with your bags. Of course, he doesn’t.

He leads you to a large bedroom down the hall from the main foyer. It’s beautiful, truly, because it’s not completely painted in gold or animal print. It’s white, simple wood furniture dotting the room. There’s a desk, a walk-in closet, a dresser, a nightstand, a small sofa, and a huge plush bed. My twin size mattress really did need an upgrade, I suppose.

You place three of your bags on the desk as he leans against the wall, waiting for you to run back downstairs and grab the rest. You hurry, not wanting to make him any more upset than he already is, and turn to face him when you’re done.

“This is your room. My room is down the hall, but if you ever even think about waking me up, I will immediately fire you on the spot.”

You don’t even mean to speak, but the words fall out of your mouth like rebellious marbles. “Do you actually have the power to do that?” It’s regretful immediately.

He crosses his arms and steps closer in a menacing manner, leaning in with his gaze locked onto yours. "Honey, I have the power to do just about anything. Who said you could speak?" He scoffs and begins to pace angrily. However, his attitude is beyond irritating to you. You internally refuse to tolerate his behavior, especially if you’re going to be stuck with him for an indeterminable, but probably excruciatingly long, amount of time. He can't fire you — if he wanted to, he would have done it by now.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t speak to me that way, Mr. Danforth.” You croak out the words, trying to sound serious and intimidating but your breath is shaky and you sound downright terrified. Perfect, you think as he chuckles at your attempt.

“You wanna repeat that?” he asks, pulling out his vape. Christ, how much does this douchebag smoke?

You gulp, standing with your hands clasped together calmly. “I’d prefer if we kept a professional tone. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not. I’m not your indentured servant. I’m here to assist you and keep you out of trouble as much as possible. Do we have an understanding?” You hesitate for a minute, your eyes still locked with his. “If not, I have no problem giving your mother a call.”

He smirks, shaking his head with a condescending nature, but deep down, he knows you’re right. He can pretend all he wants, but you have the full power in this situation, and both of you know it. There’s only one thing Derek Danforth has a fear of, and it’s absolutely his mother.

You keep a straight face, trying to remain unfazed at his attitude as you wait for him to say something rude in response. However, he just looks at you annoyed, wearing a slight smirk, his vape filling his mouth with mango-flavored smoke.

“Don’t wake me up. Can you follow that simple rule, sweetheart? I’d prefer not to have any behavioral issues from you so soon,” he says with a condescending tone as he steps closer with his head tilted. You nod slowly, your face serious.

“Good. Now, I have personal chefs and maids. You’ll be at the dining table at 9:00 a.m. for breakfast, noon for lunch, and 7:00 p.m. for dinner. I couldn’t care less if you eat or not. You’re a big girl. You can take care of yourself, right?” His hand reaches up, hovering over your jawline as his fingers find the tip of your chin and lift your face to look him in the eyes.

Is he flirting with me right now? Does he hate me or not?

You give him a small smile. “Okay, got it.”

Releasing his grip on your chin, he leans against the wall with his arms crossed. “If you want your laundry done, you’ll have it in the black hamper in your closet by noon every Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday. Your room is deeply cleaned every day at 4 p.m. Don’t be in here at that time.” You nod again, trying to memorize all of the times. I’m going to have to write this all down.

Derek, with a certain reluctance evident in his every move, begrudgingly agrees to give you a tour of the house. It's clear that he absolutely detests every single minute of this forced interaction. In his mind, he is a lone wolf. He doesn't need anyone. The thought of having to rely on or even consider the opinions of anyone else when making critical decisions is something he finds deeply unsettling.

Most of the time, his stubbornness stems from the fact that he is acutely aware that he's making poor decisions even before he makes them. A part of him knows that these decisions should have consequences, but his pride prevents him from seeking guidance, especially when his status prohibits any harm or discomfort that should be given to him.

And yet, despite his best efforts to push you away, he can't get rid of you. So, he shows you around the house, his teeth grinding audibly in frustration. Each room that he leads you into is a testament to his unwillingness to let you in, but he does it nonetheless, each step a battle against his own nature.

He shows you the living room, dining room, main kitchen, various lounges, gym, theatre, laundry room, game room, bar, art studio, three-tiered garage, maid's quarters, secondary kitchen, indoor pool, sauna, spa, storage room, expansive backyard, private office, and all 18 bathrooms and bedrooms.

It's ridiculous. No one needs a house this big or with this many rooms. This guy probably doesn't even use most of them for months on end. However, when he shows you the library, it's a different story.

Derek is an idiot. There's not a chance in hell that he enjoys reading in his spare time. The room most likely functions just for his desperate lawyers to reference for the many times he's been taken to court. Yet, the library is beautiful, being roughly the size of your entire apartment building.

It has a main level and a wooden spiral staircase to the second level, which is open in the middle to allow for the gigantic chandelier hanging there. Dark wood and beige tones encase everything except for the books. And God, there are so many books. Hundreds of thousands, at least. An endless section for every thought that's ever crossed the human mind. Immediately, you know that almost every second of your spare time will be spent in this room, reading until your eyes pop out of your skull.

Your jaw nearly touches the ground as he barely acknowledges the library. It means nothing to him, there's no doubt about it. He's probably spent less than an hour in this room in the many years he's lived in this house. It almost feels like your heart is ripped out of your chest as he barely pokes his head in, mumbling almost inaudibly, "This is the library." It's so much more than that. Yet, you follow him out as he shows you back to your room.

"Alright, sweetheart, do me a favor and don't bother me. I'll be in the living room." He turns to leave, still annoyed, but you speak up.

"Wait! Uh- I'm supposed to be with you almost at all times… according to your mother. That's what she hired me for. To discourage your… bad decisions."

He turns, pivoting on the heel of his obnoxious cowboy boots as he glares at you. "Do I get bonus points if I pretend to care?"

You just look at him. "What are you doing right now? Can I assist you at all?"

He steps closer, taking another hit of his vape as he raises his eyebrows at you. "Oh, oh yeah. I need tons of help while I’m watching a movie and getting a shoulder massage. What do you think, honey?"

Looking at the ground, then back up at him, you say, "Can I watch it with you?"

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You sit in the living room, across from Derek as a woman massages his shoulders and arms. He still seems annoyed, not even trying to acknowledge you. His eyes are focused on the TV screen situated at the front of the large room, his hands leading another vape to his lips. You hesitantly place your feet, crossed, on the coffee table in front of you.

Derek shoots a look at your shoes, his teeth gritting together as he tries not to blow up at you, your actions seeming like a blatant form of disrespect. You notice his look and slowly pull your feet down, planting them again on the rug and turning your attention back to the movie. The room is oddly silent besides the sounds of the bizarre action movie he’d picked out.

This is weird. You two need to talk.

"So… I’ve never been a personal assistant before. What kind of stuff do you think you’ll need me to do?" He turns his head to look at you, eyes hanging half open with a dazed expression as smoke falls from his lips.

"I don’t need an assistant. I don’t even want one. I really couldn’t care less about what you do," he answers, bluntly. His gaze lingers on yours, long enough to make you uncomfortable. It seems like that might be a goal of his.

You stand up, walking to the large bay window and gazing at the beautiful backyard that looks like it goes on for miles. "Okay…" you continue, "what does your typical day look like?"

He brushes off the woman kneading his shoulders and sits up, running a couple of fingers through his curly frost-tipped hair and continuing to smoke. "Usually hungover. I don’t really eat breakfast. Head to the office, sign paperwork and eat lunch. More paperwork. Meetings. Head home, usually go to a party. Dinner. Escorts at night." You nod slowly, processing this information.

"Is all you do for work just signing papers and attending meetings?"

He nods, gazing out the window behind you. "That's most of it. I'm the man in charge of the finances and big decisions, and I hire people to handle the bullshit."

You sit back down across from him, looking back at the movie that’s still playing. "Gotcha… I guess… I can help arrange your schedule, then?"

He just shrugs, turning back to the screen. "Whatever makes you feel useful, sweetheart." He chuckles to himself obnoxiously, continuing, "You really are useless anyways.”

There’s an awkward silence as you process his cruel words. A full emptiness hangs between the two of you, drowning out your thoughts in static.

You hate his cocky attitude. More than that, you hate the fact that he doesn’t seem to care about anything or anyone other than himself.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

As you climb into bed later that night, you can only think about how this is all going to work. And also about how incredibly inviting Derek’s guest room bed is. Words can barely describe the feeling. Comfort isn't enough to label the softness surrounding your entire body.

You wish that comfort could fill your head at this moment. Unfortunately, anxiety and frustration are taking up too much space.

You know those stories where a hero is thrown into a pit with a fire-breathing dragon and has to try and escape but ends up taming the beast and then it helps them to get out? You feel like that. You've been hired to tame a beast. The beast that is Derek Danforth.

Except, it's an impossible task. And the woman who hired you knows it, because he's Derek fucking Danforth.

He’s clearly determined to make you as miserable as you were hired to make him.

You'll surely lose your mind if you continue taking the verbal abuse this man is clearly not afraid to throw at you. But you want the money, and you're not willing to give up that easily (even if it sounds much more enjoyable right about now).

There’s a lot of ways to deal with the situation you’ve been thrusted into.

But there’s only one way that might be able to take away some of your misery.

As hard as it is, you have to be completely unbothered by the entity that this man possesses. His insults rolling off of your sunkissed skin, his arrogance blinded by your positivity.

You pull the velvety covers over your bare shoulders, your brain melting into the pillow as you assure yourself that you have it within you to overcome the challenge that assuredly lies ahead.

It can’t be that bad, can it?

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

✧ author’s note: sorry for the really cheesy ending LMAO it was the best idea i had. i’m violently nervous to post this i feel like it’s terrible but also there’s some parts i’m really proud of?? so generally conflicted right now but i hope you enjoyed reading it :) there will definitely be more (considering the complete cliffhanger) however the length of continuation is definitely balanced on the reception i receive on this (if this was compete garbage i will absolutely accept it and move on)

also the outfit i wrote derek into wearing in this is something that ive been nonstop thinking about, i just need josh hutcherson to wear it with frosted tips and his diamond earring and do a little photoshoot. that’s all i ask <3

✧ anyways thank you buckets for reading this, i hope you have a fantastic day :)

#jhutch #josh hutcherson #derek danforth #jhutch1992 #the beekeeper #derek danforth x reader #fem reader #character x reader #praying this isn’t absolute garbage #please be honest if this is terrible #thank you #fluff #angst #slowburn #enemies to lovers

[imdoingaokay]

I have an idea! The romanced companions reacting to female sole survivor dying during combat!

(A/N): I know, I know, you all missed me. I missed you too haha.

I'm sorry for the long wait, I promise it wasn't on purpose. As I've said before, I am in nursing school, which makes getting out a stuff super difficult. But I love you guys and I love writing!

Sole was written as Gender Neutral, love you <3

Anyways, enjoy my garbage, I wrote this during my class hehehe

SUPER HUGE TW FOR THE FOLLOWING: Descriptions of death, death in general, nothing too graphic (but still), and plenty of angst

Cait: She can’t help but feel terrible like she failed Sole. It doesn’t help that she was right there when it happened.

Watching Sole slump down, hearing their breathing slow until they completely stilled. It was a feeling she had grown used to, but not one she wished to revisit.

She doesn’t know what to do, so she does what she thinks is best. She buries Sole unless Sole specified they wanted their body burned or something. She tells the Minutemen, The Railroad, Brotherhood, or the Insitute, whoever needs to be informed, and then she leaves. She never really thought she was worthy of Sole, regardless of whether they were a “good” or “bad” person, so she leaves as soon as possible. 

She tries her best to stay away from drugs and alcohol. But, realistically? If Sole dies? There’s a solid chance she throws herself back in unless Sole was with the Minutemen or the Railroad and set up a grief group before they passed.

Romanced, Cait is still in pain, still mourning, but it hurts more. She finally had something good, something healthy, and it was ripped away from her. Cait stays wherever had become Sole’s home, and sort of adopts a caretaker role, she works alongside the settlement workers. She tries to honor Sole’s memory, whatever it may have been. She never really moves on, but she forgives herself. And she thinks that’s what Sole would’ve wanted.

Curie: In absolute agony. She tries her best, really tries to stitch Sole up to the best of her abilities. But as she watches Sole slip away, Curie knows she can’t do anything. Not like it makes it any easier.

Curie uses Sole’s pip-boy and begs for backup, begging for help to get Sole’s body out of range. Eventually, when some help does arrive, Curie is hysterical. She can’t seem to forgive herself for her mistakes, despite not making any. She returns to Sole’s home and decides to leave soon after. Curie still feels the guilt of not being able to save Sole, so she decides to help others. Curie slowly turns a name, a mysterious doctor who appears around the Commonwealth, treats patients, then leaves, and the cycle continues. Curie can’t forgive herself for failing her friend, but she can make up for her mistakes by helping others.

Romanced, Curie may settle instead. Choosing to stay where both she and Sole called home. She becomes the Settlement’s doctor and becomes a very good one at that. She isn’t as bubbly as she once was, just more reserved.

Danse: No, no, no! Danse sprints over to Sole, and despite his power armor, he moves relatively fast. He uses his power armor to block Sole’s body from any potential projectiles. Danse picks up his friend, praying they’re still alive, and flees. 

Once in a safe area, Danse lays his friend down and realizes… they’re gone. Sole gave Danse a second chance at life after Danse himself was convinced he didn’t deserve it, and now they were gone. How does that happen? He can’t find it in him to cry, he frowns deeply and picks up his friend again, now returning Sole to wherever or whoever needed them, needed Sole’s body. And Danse will take Sole anywhere if they need. The Railroad, Institute… preferably to the Minutemen, however.

He even takes Sole’s body to Cambridge Police Station if Sole was loyal to The Brotherhood. 

Once Sole’s body has been delivered, Danse returns to Listening Post Bravo. And for the first time, he weeps. He’s lost so many, and it seems like he’s always the one left behind.

He’ll leave the Commonwealth, and go somewhere, anywhere, probably out west. He fights ghouls and super mutants, mindlessly shooting until he can’t anymore.

Romanced, it’s worse, it’s so much worse. Danse screams Sole’s name, sprints over, and takes them to cover. Danse gets out of his armor and cradles his lover, he begs, screams, and pleads with whatever god he can to save his lover. But it’s too late, Sole is gone. And Danse is alone.

Danse returns his lover’s body but doesn’t leave wherever they are buried. He stays, becoming a farmer and working his heart out for whatever Settlement Sole had claimed as theirs. Danse thinks that Sole would want him to be happy, and would want him to move on. But Danse can’t do that. He loves Sole too much to move on. But he continues living, and living is good enough.

Deacon: Deacon isn’t a very serious guy, but the moment he sees Sole fall, he’s the most serious man he knows. Deacon shoots any enemies nearby and quickly rushes over to Sole. He shakes his friend, begging them to wake up, but after a few seconds, he realizes that Sole is dead. His friend is dead. Per Railroad guidelines, Sole is supposed to be left behind at least, buried in an unmarked grave at best. So why does Deacon hesitate? Why does he carefully carry Sole back to their home a bury them properly? Respect? Compassion? Adoration? Nobody knows, Deacon always changes his story.

Sole becomes just another body, another story, one he might tell to the next doomed soul he meets. But honestly? Deacon doesn’t expect to live long enough for that.

Romanced, Deacon is immediately by his lover's side, he holds his lover as tightly as he can and attempts to stop the blood and comfort his lover, but as soon as they still, as soon as they go limp, Deacon breaks. He silently holds them and takes them home. He’ll probably still work for the Railroad, work helping Synths until they don’t need him anymore, but he isn’t the same. He’s so much sadder and so quiet. He’s effective and gets the job done, but when Sole died, so did a bit of Deacon.

Gage: Furious at first, how dare Sole die? How dare they die right here? How dare they leave him alone? At the start of their friendship, he would’ve been slightly annoyed, but Gage and Sole have been friends for longer. And now, he’s alone. He barred his heart, he told them everything about themselves, and now Sole is just gone, his friend is just… gone. He does what he has to do, and gives them a burial, potentially somewhere other than in Nuka-World. After that, he takes up the mantle of Overboss, not happily, don’t get me wrong. He would much rather avoid that role, but Sole was the best one the raiders had, and nobody else will be able to measure up to them. At least, with Gage, he can try to emulate Sole’s leadership. And he’ll do a pretty good job. Or at least, he’ll try until someone comes along and kills him. He’s fine with either.

Romanced, he sprints to his lover’s side, he holds them while they bleed out, “Alright, you’re fine. You’re fine, Sole.” He claims as if that will magically close the gaping wound in Sole’s side. He watches Sole slip away from his grasp and slowly break out into tears. He didn’t remember the last time he cried it was probably when he still lived with his parents. He feels ashamed for his softness while he sobs into his lover’s neck, feeling Sole’s body turn cold. But after his lover is buried, he refuses ever to cry again, deciding to harden himself for the rest of his life, however long it is.

He becomes Overboss, does his job, and waits… waits for his end. And when his end happens, he hopes it’s quick and hopes Sole will wait for him on the other side.

Hancock: He lies to himself, and says that Sole isn’t dead, they’re just knocked out. But the blood and the stillness of their body tells Hancock that his buddy is gone.

After burying or burning the body, Hancock returns to Goodneighbor and holes himself up in the Statehouse. Hancock always knew he would most likely outlive Sole, but he hoped it would be different. He hoped Sole would be an old man or woman, that they’d die peacefully after puffing some jet with Hancock. But the Wasteland is cruel, and it takes the best people away, just because it can.

He gets word that a few of the people in Goodneighbor want to set up a small memorial to Sole, and Hancock is more than happy to help. He keeps living, he’s certain that’s what Sole wants. He never gets that close to anyone again, not because he’s trying to guard himself, he just can’t find the time. He walks around the Commonwealth, throwing himself into helping everyone, that’s what Sole did. So without Sole, someone else has to pick up the “slack” so to speak. And he’s fine with that, hopefully, Sole is too. 

Romanced, he does his best to keep a brave face for Sole, sharing a final kiss before Sole eventually succumbs to their injuries. He cries for a while and throws himself into more chems. It’s Fahrenheit who encourages Hancock to get out of the Old State House and to go for a walk around Goodneighbor. He goes out on the balcony first and notices how bright it is outside. The past month had been fairly cloudy and gloomy, so Hancock stands there, feeling the sun on his face. He’s not very religious, but that warm feeling… it had to be a sign that Sole loves him, wherever they are, Sole loves him.

He never loves another again, not how he loved Sole, but he will keep living. He’ll keep going until the day comes when he and Sole see each other again. 

MacCready: He’s upset, for lack of a better word, so upset he ends up cursing for the first time in years. He grabs at his friend and clings to them, attempting to help them. But eventually, he has to face the music. They’re gone, and he’s alone. Unlike what he did with Lucy, MacCready brings Sole back, back to their home… wherever that might be. He’ll travel the entire length of the Commonwealth if it means that Sole will get a proper burial.

He’ll end up leaving, if Duncan hasn’t joined him in the Commonwealth, thinking that the Commonwealth has nothing left for him anymore. If Duncan has arrived in the Commonwealth, MacCready ends up retiring from mercenary work permanently. He’ll end up working as a guard in Sanctuary, working nights. It makes it easier to care for Duncan when he’s with him during the day. MacCready focuses on Duncan and Duncan alone, with no time for anything else.

Romanced, he’s a mess. He cries and clings onto Sole, begging them to wake up. But he knows it’s over. He mourns his lover, hauling their body to the pair’s shared home, and buries his lover despite the sadness he feels. Unlike if they were just friends, MacCready stays in The Commonwealth, bringing Duncan if he isn’t there already. He works as a guard, but refuses to ever love again, after all… nobody can measure up to Sole or Lucy. His life surrounds his son, and the memory of Sole. He feels terrible if Duncan never got a chance to meet Sole, but he tries to tell stories of them. 

He’s a good man, he tells himself. So he stays alive, for the sake of his son… and for the sake of Sole. Sole would want him to… right?

Nick Valentine: Nick comforts, if he can. He soothes his friend as much as possible. Talking to them as they bleed out. If he knows he can’t help, he just stays nearby and talks with his friend. Like Hancock, Nick expected to outlive Sole, but not like this. Nick watches his friend leave their world and prays they go to a better one. 

He covers Sole with his coat out of respect.  Hell, he ends up burying his friend in that coat. He doesn’t mind losing it, Sole deserves something to keep them warm under the 6 feet of earth.

He’ll continue to work, but he does his best to keep his memories of Sole, copying them from his subconscious and placing them on a holotape. Nick doesn’t want to forget them, not someone who did so much for him.

He’s so used to people leaving him, so used to the cruelty of the wasteland, but… 

Why Sole?

Romanced, Nick does much of the same, but he cradles his lover, holding and soothing Sole the best he can. But even if he can’t prevent his voice from cracking and breaking, he watches his lover go limp and does his best to return the body somewhere his lover can be properly buried.

He mourns, turning off the neon sign in Diamond City for well over a month. When it does come back on, Nick is back to work, still polite, cordial, and friendly. But everyone can’t help but feel the sadness in his eyes

It’s strange, he thinks. As time goes on, Nick’s memories come and go, but Sole’s memory stays. Maybe the “real” Nick Valentine, could only love Jenny, but Nick can only love Sole. And that sort of love stays, despite the space of an old synth’s hard drive.

Old Longfellow: He calls out for Sole, seeing them hurt breaks his heart. 

“No, kid… no you gotta get up, come on.” He tries to lift them, only to place them back down when he hears the pained cry of his chil-I mean… Sole.

He tries his best, but even he realizes there’s nothing he can do. He comforts them in their last moments, realizing that despite dying, Sole is trying to keep him calm. If he has one, he’ll share a drink with Sole, and watch as Sole breathes for the last time.

He’ll bury Sole on the mainland unless Sole says otherwise. But when Longfellow returns to his Cabin, he finds himself wondering what is next. He hoped it would be him to die first… he was supposed to die first. It was his fault, he didn’t do enough, and he should’ve taken the blow.

He sits on his bed, and for the first time in what feels like ages, he cries. Only to still himself a few moments later, he can’t cry. He has to move on, has to keep living.

He’ll keep living, wondering if he’ll die that day or the next, but he doesn’t mind either.

Longfellow works with Far Harbor more, now. Helping Synths pass through the fog with his help, if he can. He thinks Sole would approve.

Hopefully, he’ll meet someone who he can teach again. Someone younger… maybe that synth child Sole spoke to him about.

Romanced, he realizes that Sole needs him to calm down much faster. But he can’t help but admit to his lover before they go that it was his fault. He’ll never forget his lover smiling and cupping his cheek, feeling how warm it felt on his prickling beard. And he’ll never forget how they smiled and shook their head, in pain, but smiling. And all of a sudden, Longfellow feels some closure.

The rest of it moves the same, he continues to help and continues to live. But he’ll never love again, nobody else is like Sole, and even if there was… he doesn’t want them. Longfellow will always want Sole, not someone like them. And when the day comes when he returns to the sea or the dirt, he’ll embrace that with open arms… the way he hopes Sole will embrace him when they see each other once again.

Piper: Piper cries out “Blue?!” over and over again until her throat is raw, she shakes her friend, begging her friend to wake up. But Sole is dead. And that’s it.

She buries her friend the best she can, but when she returns home, she finds herself wondering what she should do next. So she does what she does best.

She writes.

Piper writes the most beautiful story about Sole, but it isn’t some sob story or some heroic tale. She tells the truth. She describes the story of Sole’s life after The Great War, and she writes the tale of Sole navigating through the post-apocalyptic world, how they won, and how they lost. And how despite it all, Sole persevered, and even when they were on death’s door… Well, maybe Piper does play Sole’s life up a little bit.

Regardless, Sole gets one hell of a send-off.

Piper continues writing, focusing on what matters to her.

Romanced, she does everything the exact same. She cries harder and writes faster, but most people in Diamond City agree, Piper isn’t the same. She’s still got that strong sense of justice, she will still do whatever it takes to get a story. But she takes more time off, spends more time with her sister, she lives. Because she’s certain that’s what Sole would want her to do. 

Preston: He does what he can at first, he picks his friend up and tries to get them away. But when Preston looks down and watches his friend grow weaker and weaker, he accepts it, he accepts that this is the end of The General. Preston brings Sole’s body back and gives them a proper funeral. 

He apologizes to his friend's grave, claiming it should’ve been them instead, tears gathering in his eyes. He knew he would cry over his friend, but not this hard. He’s adopted the role of General, he’s certain that Sole would’ve wanted that. He also adopts their leadership skills and learns how to grow the settlements. He’ll do his best, and he’ll be the best General he can be.

General Garvey has a nice ring to it anyways.

Romanced, he’s distraught. He clings to his lover and drags them home. At first, he can’t stop his tears. He begs his lover to come back, begs whatever god there is to take him instead, but Sole’s gone. Eventually, when the calls for help become too much, and when he can’t ignore them anymore, Preston dons the name of General. 

He continues to do his best and he’ll stay alive for as long as possible, for the sake of the Commonwealth… and for Sole’s sake too.

X6-88: He calls out for Sole, a few times. It doesn’t make sense to him, Sole isn’t supposed to bleed. He tries to give them stimpacks, but the blood… it’s too much. 

Sole may try to comfort X6, maybe try to stop him, but X6 can’t seem to stop trying to save them. But after Sole goes limp, after Sole goes cold, X6 realizes what he has done. 

He takes them back to The Insitute, waiting for reprimand, for something. If Father is still alive, he watches as the older man sighs and orders for the body to be taken away. Father watches X6 before asking, in a confused tone “Why are you crying?”

X6’s fingers go to his cheeks, where he feels the wetness from his tears. Quickly wiping them away, he apologizes and returns to his duties. But all of a sudden, he’s emotional? He thinks about Sole, how they acted toward others… X6 liked them... X6 admired them. X6 actually misses them. But he isn’t supposed to feel that way, not towards anyone. So why does he feel this way for Sole?

It takes him time, and he eventually comes to the realization that X6 feels this way because… he cared. He cared for Sole, and Sole cared for him. And maybe that makes him faulty and maybe that makes him a terrible Courser. But X6 can’t seem to care, not for that. 

Romanced, X6 probably had more time to work on his emotions, and more time to work on his outlook on just about everything. So when Sole dies, he knows that the reason he is crying is that he loved them. And X6… actually doesn’t mind that. He gets curious one day and reads a few books, and even overhears a few others speak, and over time, heals himself. He lives, works, and does what he needs to do because when the day comes, and he dies, he’s fine with it all. The love he had for Sole was real, and that’s worth something, isn’t it?

#cait fallout 4 #fallout cait #cait #curie fallout 4 #fallout 4 curie #danse #paladin danse #porter gage #john hancock #hancock #maccready #robert maccready #nick valentine #old longfellow #fo4 piper #fo4 preston #preston garvey #preston #fo4 x6 88 #x6 88 #fallout 4 x6 88 #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 #fallout

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Sorry if you’re offline or just don’t want to see this but I has question:

As the resident hurricane family mother, how does one healthily cope with sadness, depression, and self-blame? Because most of us are dealing with these and I have absolutely no healthy coping mechanisms, so I was wondering if you’d know anything?

I was just offline because of work, that’s all. 👍🏻 This is kind of difficult to answer but I will do my best. Please reblog this, lovelies, and add your own healthy coping mechanisms so we can have as much good advice in a post as possible. ❤️ I’m gonna ask y’all to bear with me and read this whole answer because some things might sound like “meh that’s not for me” but if you stop reading then you won’t find other things that might help.

First, my faith is a big pillar of strength for me. I know not everyone shares my beliefs, but if you have any inclination to try and pray at all, prayer helps so much. Not because it gives you an instant fix, but because it gives you an ear to talk to, it can let you scream and cry and breathe and listen and reorient. God’s always listening. ❤️ If anyone is ever unsure how to pray or anything of the sort, you can always ask. ❤️

Now as I said, not everyone shares my beliefs, and there are so many coping mechanisms out there! Journaling your thoughts helps you put them out of your mind and onto something you can look at and physically touch. It gives you a moment to pause and reread it and parse it out. I find exercise helps me a lot too - and I’m not even saying you need to go to the gym or punch the air, just a walk makes a world of difference. Can’t go outside? Pace back and forth and listen to music. I put in so many steps I sometimes “walk” for miles just from pacing back and forth.

Find yourself a support system. I have different people who I go to for different things. My family is always there for me but I don’t always tell them everything that’s bothering me. And I don’t have to! I actively avoid telling them some things because I don’t want them to worry, but I will tell others. Different people can be there for you in different ways. I have work friends who go through hell with me and we can talk about it with each other because we get it. I have close friends who may not understand what I’m going through but can still lend an ear when I’m at a breaking point and can either let me vent or offer me support. I have my family who honestly just knows the periphery of big stressors for me but can read when I need to be alone and when I need love.

Know your limits. We all want to be everything for everyone. We all want to help and support each other. But sometimes things are too much. Sometimes you can’t be in righty places and have energy for six other people in crisis and still put a smile on your face. Know when to step away and take a break. Know when to put down the phone, or not contact that one person who drains you more than usual, or avoid that one place that’s going to stress you out.

Know when something is or isn’t in your control. Sometimes your brain is garbage and makes you feel that way. Understand what that is - stress, trauma, faulty wiring (darn neuro chemicals), hormones - and understand that you can’t necessarily stop the reaction but just ride the wave. Some days all you want to do is lie in bed. Those are the days to each out and say “hey can someone poke me to get up and brush my teeth/eat/drink.” Some days everything makes you think you’re a failure. Recognize that it’s your brain being stupid and say “all right, fine, I feel like shit, doesn’t mean it’s true. So anybody want to tell me what they see in me? What makes me a good person/friend/writer/artist/whatever I need to hear?” Recognize that your perception of yourself is not what the world sees, and recognize that when you’re lost in a fog and depression has you blindfolded in the dark, others are not blindfolded and therefore can see you for the beautiful person that you are.

Let your mind rest! Read something you enjoy. Draw! Watch a movie! Whatever makes you happy.

Have a creative hobby. Something that you can look at and smile and be like “I made/free that!” Gardening, sewing, writing, art, something with an end result that you can see and touch.

All right, that’s most of the stuff I do or have been told to do. Now reblog, lovelies, and add your own advice if you like!

#wait am I the matriarch of the family now what #I was just some obscure aunt what happened #ANYWAY #pls disregard typos I kind of just poured out thoughts and heart and did not proofread #so hopefully this makes sense #you ask skye answers #lovely someluwriter

[citadelofmythoughts]

Oh Critical Drinker? Basically take every single terrible RWBY “critic” through them in a blender, and you’d get that guy. The mere notion of a strong black, female, or gay character existing sends this guy into an absolute spiral. And if a white man isn’t center stage or completely competent in every conceivable way, he’ll scream about how modern movies hate men (even did this with the fucking Batman movie. You know, the one where the main fucking character is a rich white straight cis male superhero). But yeah stay away and definitely don’t give his videos any attention, if you really wanna know how bad he is just out of morbid curiosity, just take one look at his twitter without trying to vomit; one of his most recent tweets is him making fun of a bunch of women losing a basketball game against an all male team and saying he thinks it would’ve been even better if the match went on longer. Just disgusting in every conceivable way and I pray that what anon said just stays a rumor because I would hate for him to inject his disgusting bigotry into a queer masterpiece

I must have run across one of his videos in the distant past because I checked my BlockTube settings and his YT is there. So no chance of me accidentally seeing his garbage.

He doesn't sound particularly significant. Just another scared cis white dude on YT. Pathetically common.

[lovelovekill101]

Just waiting for that day when I’m not being tortured and ya I get that to chime in and follow on this one improv impromptu garbage shitysbinola mime troupe proving that there is no reason for style and subtle nuance the theater the stage was pure mind control from a god of absolute control where there is no doubt and no reason ever to think that everything isn’t exactly perfect . And I want to do that for well you know Ellie Lauren and Jude I’m not de 9ning you oh that hurts I’m not though and I think you get now how much harder things are for me and ummm how cruel it is to judge me when you see just how hard I work ten times as hard just to get it wrong but then it really is all mine and no one likes right and I know you get it but also how that’s the very thing that also damm near drove you to abort me a few decades past the trimester the ambilical cord was even sexy the faintest breeze would have my royal cock thug thumping against my whon forehead and still it would be burned into torment and I ridicule love itself all we e ever known of love and we deserved to know so much more but don’t flatter me I’ve kept a good head on my shoulders through a life time of betrayal but it did hurt cause I just I don’t know I don’t talk to myself the same way others do I’m kinder I believe and no need to expose and tear at with my unruly senses you know and if you don’t just use me I’m here for ya I pray you find contentment with our life you know the more you love the more you love kinda like you just choose to find joy in something and it opens unfurls like the sails on a big wooden ship out on the bay taking on a life of there own like body surfing in the Stimson beach surf it has a way of growing around you when you get in it like living in a boat at the end of c dock the bay lifting and rippling joyously around us bursting into magic with the magic of the moment I hope we keep making magic and loving it for the simple joy of the moment in life it is those moments that are everything and so wondrous I call em magic we have so catching up to do but moments don’t work that that so I’m worried are you

[crystalelemental]

Seasonal Select Scouts (August 2023)

Seasonal select scouts are back!  It’s not even the garbage of all of them ever in one focus!  Instead, they’ve split the focus along Striker, Tech, and Support.  Can’t wait to see if this expands to five as we get Sprint and Field seasonals.

These are paid scouts, to the tune of 3k gems.  For anyone who keeps track, that’s like $25.  Tate and Liza aren’t here, but everyone else is, so now we ask: who’s worth it?

Striker Scout Summer Lyra No.  She’s terrible.  No multipliers, poor self-setup, poor damage thresholds, and the only real utility is that she has sleep on sync, which becomes AoE only if she’s EX.  I use her sometimes and can confirm, it’s a disaster.

Summer Steven Not too bad?  Ice striker is a fairly rare option.  Resets Hail on sync, and has nice natural move multiplier under Hail, with Icicle Crash having a 30% flinch rate.  But no aggravation, poor sync, and Hala exists for CS.  Not a great pick, but not the worst.

Halloween Hilbert I feel like there’s no reason to choose this guy.  Like okay, his Dark damage is alright, but Standfast 7 on a recoil guy?  Get with the times.

Spring May You need to sync to get her Fighting-type DPS and sync.  She’s far too slow to ever be meaningful.  Her default kit is okay in terms of team buffing defense and speed, and she does have Potion, so I get decent Gauntlet streak mileage out of her.  But also no.

New Years Lance Flying may be hard to shop for, but SS Ethan is right there, right now, and is far more competent.  Even without Ethan, this is a hard sell, given the atrocious self-setup and lack of sync presence.

New Years Volkner Pure Electric damage.  Setup is slow and requires accuracy, all his kit works on super-effective and he’s old so he doesn’t get the assured Free Moves, just a 30%.  His kit is dated and it shows, with the worst aspect being...Electric High Score all demands off-type, so what use does he bring to the immediate need?

Summer Gloria I kinda feel like she sucks.  Water damage is a dime a dozen, there’s no Gigantamax associated with it, it works on a load-hit-reload structure but has atrocious self-setup, and its secondary DPS moves don’t account for much.  Very hard sell.

Winter Leon Finally, competence.  Winter Leon actually has great damage, and a very respectable 50% freeze rate, which can hit AoE.  Personally, I think he’s one of the top picks in this category even now.  I do think sync damage will let you down, and the AoE with penalty could potentially feel dated, but it’s nothing his freeze chance hasn’t always salvaged in my wife’s account.

Summer N My Summer N is 2/5, and I can attest that he is crap.  Absolutely abysmal sync, but so much of the kit wants him to sync to maximize his DPS.  Which is also not great without full 3/5.  N really struggles to stand out, especially in a type now including powerhouses like NC Marnie and SC Zinnia.

New Years Lisia Best Fairy striker at current.  Lisia, similar to N, operates on the SEUN after sync approach.  The difference is that Lisia’s DPS is best in the type without qualifiers, and her sync is rather respectable, hitting above Diantha’s level.  Supporting physical damage dealers is also substantially easier than special ones.  The main hiccup with Lisia is there are three Fairy Zone setters, and all of them support special.  Lisia is, at present, painfully non-optimized.  Was it really, truly too much to ask that we get a Fairy Zone setter that skewed physical?  Just one.

Palentine’s Elesa Elesa is a gimmick option, much like the majority of Flying damage dealers.  Fly is awkward two-turn damage, and Metronome is never consistent.  She also heavily skews toward on-type, which means she isn’t too useful anywhere else unless she’s Fly tanking.  And even then, she lacks serious healing potential to sustain it; you’re just really praying for misses.  I don’t think she’s all that good, personally.

Tech Scout Fall Acerola Horrible to the point of comical.  Two MP gated skills with only MPR2 for each on a high-cost grid.  Poor sync despite the Tech.  She offers only Confuse, and some debuffing.  Really poor choice.

Winter Siebold I’ve heard he does alright, but I’m not convinced.  Scald is okay but not great, Octazooka’s accuracy debuffing can come in clutch but mostly doesn’t.  He does have decent sync potential and Piercing Gaze, but I don’t feel like that’s enough to justify him.

Winter Skyla Actually decent damage output, and a very solid flinch bot when below 3/5.  I use her pretty consistently just for that.  But there are better picks than a glorified flinch bot, so unless you really want to complete 3/5, not a great pick.

Palentine’s Dawn Okay now we’re talking.  Lucian exists, and completely outclasses Dawn, but a rapid special defense debuffer is always a godsend.  Lucian can’t be everywhere, and it’s such a universally beloved tool that it’s hard to say Dawn isn’t worth it.  She also gets solid healing options to sustain as a tank if needed.  A bit dated, and damage isn’t great, but a very good utility bot.

Palentine’s Serena Excellent sync nuke at 2/5, reasonable DPS, has a fun combination of boosting team speed and debuffing enemy speed, while also packing paralysis.  Serena’s good, but I think her setup woes hold her back from excellence nowadays.

Summer Marnie I don’t have her, but a reasonable pick.  Decent damage, used to be best in show.  Setup is fairly slow, requiring four turns, but buffs effectively every stat, and she gets gradual healing options to tank if needed.  A fairly flexible pick in the rare Fairy type.

Halloween Morty Effectively just a burn bot.  His damage and sync really don’t live up to much, and while AoE burn has some mild value in the era of SS Lysandre, he’s rarely the optimal pick.

Winter Nessa If you do Gauntlet streaks, or just really fucking hate Moltres, go for it.  Hail MPR at 2/5 is an MPR4, which is the best odds of refresh for a clean win.  Otherwise, I struggle to find much value.  DPS isn’t great, and sync was worse than Candice, which is why a lot of people skipped her.

Palentine’s Marnie Honestly one of the best picks.  Marnie’s a Zone setter that meshes incredibly well with her type, and packs a nice flinch rate in Iron Head, as well as Growl support, debuffing defenses on entry, and Team Sharp Entry naturally.  She eases a lot of setup options just by existing at 1/5.  3/5 gets a very strong sync nuke too.  It’s hard not to argue for her.

Halloween Iris Poison Zone, which should be great, but Iris offers relatively little to the type.  Despite Hyper Beam, her total DPS is fairly poor, and her sync lets her down too, due to poor stats.  Acid is atrocious utility until 3/5, and she can’t even guarantee Poison, much less apply Toxic.  Oleana is legitimately a better support to the type.

Winter Whitney Extremely fun gimmick pair.  Whitney’s thing is setting Grassy/Psychic/Electric terrain using her Trainer Move.  The downside is, only two applications without a very niche skill on her grid, and its conditional to using Move Gauge Boost, which means accessing anything but Grassy Terrain means burning extra turns doing nothing.  She does get Horn Leech for some hilarious sustain tanking in Gauntlet, and Headbutt is great disruption, but I’d be lying if I said she had universal appeal.

New Years Dawn I actually really like this pair.  Dawn’s main benefit is having evade tanking and extremely fast attack debuffing, as well as AoE confusion with Stop Hitting Yourself on grid.  Dawn is fun because she’s an off-tank.�� She’s also pretty respectable Ghost-type damage.  Revelation Dance effectively hits twice thanks to her passives, and her sync, when invested, is respectable.  I don’t always get a ton of use from her, but she’s one of the more fun Tech pairs.

Support Scout Winter Rosa Sets Hail on entry, and buffs stats randomly.  If this sounds exciting to you, go for it, but she’s not very useful, and is actively without use until 3/5.

Spring Burgh I hate him, but he’s decent.  Caps crit, Potion, defensive support with a bit of accuracy, one-bar spam attack.  He gets a job done, and has everything he needs at 2/5.

Winter Erika Atrocious support.  Offers nothing for buffing at all, and as a sustain tank, is just infinitely worse than Sycamore.

New Years Lillie I like her, but it’s rough out here.  Crit/Evasion buffing is not a winning combination.  Leech Life is also very gauge hungry for a sustain tank.

Halloween Caitlin Best pick.  Caitlin aged like the finest of wines.  Originally considered niche because no crit buffing, now everyone self-buffs crit and she can buff like a billion stats, including the rare accuracy.  Add in a strong defensive backbone, and you have a great support for the modern meta.  She even does all her core functions at 2/5.

New Years Sabrina Does okay.  Applied Endurance with MPR is always at least somewhat funny, but her problem is consistency.  Inconsistent team crit buffing, inconsistent special moves up next, inconsistent MPR procs, etc.  You never know if she’ll land her other effects, so you can’t rely on her.  She’s at least good, but I feel very reliant on 3/5 to have enough random chances that she’ll definitely accomplish something.

Palentine’s Bea I don’t respect P!Bea.  Oh I know.  Gauntlet Soloist.  Show me her use elsewhere.  +4 in both offenses is fine.  Potion with potential double MPR is fine.  Astonish is fine.  But I can never find the serious utility from her grid, which feels like a complete mess where she can’t pick up much of anything.  Bea always just feels incredibly awkward to me, and highly unspecialized. Doesn’t help that she’s only a Hail support at 3/5, where she needs to take every single sync to maintain it.

Summer Hilda Once derided as the worst pair of last year, Hilda comes in laughing at the new CS parameters.  Five Stats +3, you say?  More like, Five Stats -3 for free points.  Hilda inverts buffs, and acts as a defensive support.  She is hysterical.  I really wish things like Brick Break would shatter Crit Shield too, then she’d be perfect.  But without it, she’s just alright.  The main problem is that her grid is fairly limiting, and unlike many of the best defensive supports, Hilda has minimal healing potential, leaving her vulnerable to consistent pressure.  Hilda relies strongly on Topsy Turvy to carve out a niche, but it’s a really fun niche.  I wouldn’t say it’s worth it unless you seriously need a defensive support.  But you don’t.  BP Morty and BP Clemont are fine for stall.  SS Morty is substantially better.  If you have Aura Cynthia you’ve already won the Fighting Support game.

Halloween Allister I argued once that Allister here was worse than Hilda, and only avoided derision because of his Rebuff.  I stand by this.  Boy is dirt slow, nearly only aligned to Ghosts thanks to Trick Or Treat, but doesn’t offer much directly outside of +3 crit to the team.  Which is fine, don’t get me wrong, but Ramp Up as the only means of boosting special attack means partners like Helena, Shauntal, and Agatha are going to have a rough go.  He does have good physical bulk and consistent recovery, and because of the 3/5 application of paralysis, he has a decent Gauntlet solo count.  But no one cares about Gauntlet Solos.  As a functional member of the team, he sees little use.  Almost none since NC Calem did the same +3 crit thing but with actual offensive stats.

Winter Jasmine Jasmine is either the best pick, or the worst, depending on your playstyle.  Jasmine’s claim to fame is applies Supereffective Up Next on a target ally.  This is a huge benefit, but only if you’re playing on-type.  Off-type, this is basically worthless, and Jasmine is instead someone who can grant +1 crit per trainer move, paralysis support, and defensive buffs with Endurance to sides.  Which isn’t nothing, but it’s not a ton.  I like Jasmine a lot, and I recognize a lot of players do things on-type, making her a pretty great pick.  But.  I also recognize that I haven’t gotten as much from her as I wanted.  SEUN is a limiting condition; you cannot step off-type with this.  Lack of attack or special attack buffing is also fairly painful when you have a tool like this, which aims to offensively overwhelm.  She has this incredible offensive tool, but then skews defensive in the rest of her kit, which is a bit mismatched.  For what it’s worth, she’s easily the best of these supports.  But if you’re the kind to aim for off-type clears as a challenge because you’ve been here a while, know that there are limitations in play that will make it hard for her to contribute in the upcoming High Score event.

Palentine’s Mallow Why were all the supports in the last year dirt slow?  Palentine’s Mallow is incredibly slow, just like the others, but her claim to fame is being Shitty SS Brendan.  Apple Acid is a -1 special defense drop per hit, and she can use Dire Hit+ or her trainer move gives +3 defense.  Her only other move is Dragon Pulse.  Which is 3 gauge.  There is no Freevenge.  Mallow is, to put it delicately, awkward.  She doesn’t do nearly enough in any particular direction.  As a tank, she has good physical bulk and passive self-healing, but terrible special.  Which is just H!Allister again.  Instead of a rebuff, she gets a debuff.  She’s a bit more broadly useful as a result, despite my failure to maintain my convictions, cracking, and needing to drop 20k gems for her just before the 3.5 anniversary for a single copy, I have never once used P!Mallow outside of Gauntlet streaks.  I find her incredibly sad.

Final Thoughts In the grand scheme, I don’t think any of these are worth going for over, say, SS Kris or SS Lyra.  Let alone the potential anniversary units.  You pull this because you are a whale, you decided to spend real human money on PNG files.  You know.  Like I do constantly.

If you are like me, and you shouldn’t be, then there are a few options to consider.  For Strike, I think Winter Leon and New Years Lisia are the only ones worth talking about anymore.  Everyone else kinda sucks.  For Tech, P!Marnie is the best pick, but I also really like P!Dawn’s utility, and any of the three from the last year are serviceable niche options if you’re looking for fun.  For support, it’s Winter Jasmine all day.  While I will shill for H!Caitlin until the day I die, Jasmine offers SEUN application and a ridiculous defensive profile, even at 1/5.  Caitlin’s still excellent, but it’s hard to top that for most players.  If you’re wondering which role is most significant, I’d say support.  They’re always the most valuable, but moreover, consider that the Strikers are good but not the type routinely clearing off-type, and P!Marnie only facilitates Steel damage.  Jasmine covers literally every type with SEUN.  I think Jasmine’s the most valuable overall pick by a pretty hefty margin. 

#pokemon masters

[itsyourchoicedevotionals]

Change The Menu Fare

“Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life.” Proverbs 4:23ESV

As a child, I learned a little song:

‘Oh, be careful, little eyes, what you see,

Oh be careful, little eyes, what you see

There’s a Father up above looking down in tender love,

Oh, be careful. little eyes what you see.

Oh, be careful, little ears, what you hear,

Oh, be careful, little ears, what you hear,

There’s a Father up above looking down in tender love,

Oh, be careful, little ears, what you hear…’

Why don’t we take the words of that song seriously? Why do we tune in to the news channels? Why do we watch programming of sinful people’s unhappiness? Why do we watch speeches of darkness? Why do we refuse to learn how to turn fear, depression, anger,  hopelessness, and apathy away from us?

Lou and I moved to Ohio, deciding to not pay for cable TV. We had discovered during the previous year the anger and hopelessness we felt, seemed to be connected to watching news channels. Our selection of viewing now comes solely through the internet. Daily, we’ve guarded everything we watch. If the programming didn’t build us spiritually; had anything negative; promoted lewd sexuality; we hit the back button and found something else.

We’re both looking for total healing in our bodies. There are many healing evangelists in our nation on YouTube. Many faith teachers are available to help us strengthen our faith. Worship teachers help us turn our lives over entirely to Christ. Now, I have a few family members who might say, ‘oh you are just too emotional. That stuff isn’t real, it just gives you an emotional high.’ Well I’ll take an emotional high over the alternatives of hopelessness. 

My Lord Yahweh has been growing consistently in my spiritual eyes over the past year. There is nothing, ABSOLUTELY NOTHING that ElShaddai, Yahweh can’t do— “…Jesus said to him, “…All things are possible for one who believes” Mark 9:23ESV. 

Years ago, an acquaintance had a vision while in church. She was able to the souls of each person. Most people were walking around with babies looking starved and emaciated inside of them— the babies?— Their souls. 

What had been happening to me was a slow starvation of my spirit. I knew better. This wasn’t the first time I’d felt my ardor waning. Our spirits have to be nurtured first, more than our bodies, because “for out of it are the issues of life.” My spirit, the part of each of us which goes to heaven, needed 24/7 God foods. The entire Holy Scriptures are to bring growth to our spirits. 

Prepare a feast for your spirit and change the menu fare of your viewing. Why do we starve ourselves for different forms of entertainment? For negativity? Eye garbage? Feed your eyes and ears what is beneficial to your spirit’s growth. We’ve got a war to fight, if you hadn’t already noticed. Only from strength in our spirits can the joy of the Lord bring us through to total victory. How strong do you want to be? Do you want to win these major battles? Or a few skirmishes? It’s your choice. You choose.

LET’S PRAY: Lord God our lamps can run empty of oil without us even knowing it. Awaken us. Help us to see the only thing we need is you. Cause us to grow, in the name of Jesus Christ I pray.

by Debbie Veilleux

Copyright 2023 You have my permission to reblog this devotional for others. Please keep my name with this devotional, as author. Thank you. 

#Jesus Christ #lord of lords #word of god #Holy Spirit #God #it's your choice #devotional #change #menu #fare #guard #eyes #ears #see #hear #vision #worship #love #hope #faith

[mickgaydolenz]

I haven’t had a day off since last Saturday night and I’m not going to have one until Friday morning.

I am so exhausted.

JATHIS NOOOOOO 😭!!!! bro i am so fucking sorry that is AWFUL!!!! i pray work isn’t too absolute shit garbage for you man and you hold out until friday 🙏😔

#dude i am so sorry fr though. that is actual hell #rhubarb asks

[indiafishydish]

I’m sorry it’s just that I know that King Charles is probably giggling at this one

Oh, it took you a minute to catch that well, you know all the Americans had jokes because they are so much smarter than everybody else on the planet including and especially that Rebecca

Grandma didn’t pick up the phone said grandma

Gramma I forgot to say you have a good night also I love you my etiquette she’s absolutely fucking my etiquette up on purpose because I don’t listen enough and I just have so much anxiety. She knows I have anxiety out the butt hole yeah

Grandmother. I say! All of your fucking garbage ass grandchildren tried to cross that line. What the fuck

God, I’m an exhausting bag of shit I always talk about myself and my fucking health problems

She’s trying to teach me etiquette. How do you American?

A lot of other Americans are asking how do we American? Well let’s not get too involved with the rudeness and all of that. I don’t know a lot of people just don’t think about that stuff. It’s not like everybody’s trying to be a rude son of a bitch here am I here. I am taking out for people who are sometimes rude, but actually down here if they are rude, they mean like you know fuck you.

New York City is considerably rude. Phoenix is considerably rude.

It’s a broad issue you know I’m not broad exactly, but even if I were broad yeah, the worse than rotten.

The white women here if you piss women like me off that badly, you actually have to be a lot worse than those people and that’s not a compliment and you will probably get yourself killed, so maybe I need to let the doctors do what they do sometimes I said yourselves

Why are more people not visiting grandma and grandpa you guys have cars? What the hell

Oh shit because of the red dress Jay already knows the weird face I made him you’re telling me that the suburban American assholes who can’t even read or write are foolish enough to try to take the faces from baby refugees and laugh and say that we are such cute snacks

Well, that’s not working so we’re gonna see a lot of new twinkly get their faces cut off and they are going to have to publicly walk around with scars all over their faces and little children and then rejoice because look around when you start seeing that shit don’t feel sorry for those people. They are such cute snacks.

FaceTime and some Nager wants to start a war with me you heard what I said

Pray for me that I can purify the chakra stuff shockers right glaciers 20 gosh isn’t that so cute I just wanna be OK be OK be OK do you want to just be OK Christie

Don’t tell me a J is the Mark geez Louise Mary do you ever feel like fucking up some guys in America?

[springhazer]

 right right right I get out right right right right right right right right you’re right let’s go fucking hangs Nager‘s from some fucking trees huh isn’t that what they say Eddie oh did he say that really that’s why he did the act so well well that I just do the accent intern because I know that piece of shit so well goddamn probably do you fucking where is Eddie he’s probably getting fucked by some black dude do you know what motherfucker I probably fucking support that black dude he’s fucking him up the ass because my brother hit me in the goddamn sacral chakra Africa pray for me my darling stay classy OK please you guys don’t want these little babies read some of the shit that I write please I know but it’s for people like Dennis and Ashley to be disgusting but there’s is

Oh is that what it is but there is no Dennis will be dead within probably a decade potentially to… Nancy is embarrassed as she should be because she is nothing but proletariat proletariat garbage in the first place and she wants I couldn’t say proletariat with a straight sucking tongue because she’s not even proletariat she’s absolutely fucking bottom feeder at society and it’s fucking tight wants to act like this toward me I said cart I didn’t say she was a current

Cunt

She wanna be a wave but she ain’t warned boondocks

So you see in a way Fiona Apple is being controlled by a black man in Africa and I would say in a really huge way like a wave almost like a news except that she has no control over that and I very much appreciate that because I have already decided to represent some white people who have decided that they didn’t give a shit if I ate corn or died that being said I take my treaty back to you stupid white bitches know that being said some of us in America are going to have more heat which we are very happy about we are very festive Fiona Apple wanted a Nager dick didn’t she do not edit that I said do not

I said nigger



[lavenderwhore444]

OK I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA FOR CAT SHIGARAKI , what if cat shigaraki can actually turn into a cat 🐈 likr a full on cat, one day u where coming back from work and sensed someone was following u, but every time u would check u would find nothing not until the 5th time u turn around u see a little tail wiggling, u try to hide ur giggles and pretend u didn’t see him, shigaraki wasn’t sure why he was so interested in u since he basically hated everyone but something about u was so soft and sweet, shigaraki of course never trusts anyone after what happened to him ( poor baby was abused), after that little incident he started following u home every day, u of course didn’t mind but u really wanted to get a closer look ( u always had food outside wanting for him), on one rainy night shigaraki couldn’t find a place, he was scared,cold and hungry so he ends up scratching and meowing on ur door, u open the door and find this adorable yet really skinny cat and not to mention he was shaking ( one of his ears has a little cut) he looked like he was about to faint so u immediately picked him up and dried him off and fad him, he was exhausted so he passed out, until he woke up he never had anyone caring for him like that, u were really worried for him that really made him feel something he wasn’t so sure of but he knew he wanted ti stay , so this is the day u decided to take this random ass cat in that u had no idea if it was a male or female every time u wanted to check he would hiss ( he was really shy and thought u were pervert) at u so u gave up and picked a random name he didn’t like any but oh well, at first shigaraki was a bit grumpy and a bit shy but he eventually warmed up to u, until one day u we’re on the couch watching tv, shigaraki sees u and goes to cuddle with u ( he was feeling a bit really touched starved) u surprised to say the least, u took a little nap with him until u woke up and Felt something heavy on u, u look down to find a dude cuddling up on ur chest, u pushed him off and started panicking, he did have the cat ears and tail but no way is that ur pet, shigaraki woke annoyed until he remembered he was in his human form, u we’re asking so may questions all he wanted to do is cuddle with u for god sake, he explained everything to u and told u his name , u didn’t mind tbh u had to admit he was kind of cute in his human form, plus it’s not like u haven’t heard if hybrids before u know a lot of people have them so why not have one too , it’s been a almost a year since that day and u never regretted having shigaraki he was absolutely precious.

-🤡

Someone I Can Trust

Cat shiggy supremacy

Maaterlist

Interactivefics

Commission me

Tw: mildly implied SA (not to the reader) just fluffy idk

Your neighborhood might not have been in the nicest area, and you might be just a little paranoid, but you've never felt like this before. You could practically feel the eyes on your back. You checked behind you every so often but never saw anyone and assumed you were just more anxious than normal.

However, you were being followed by someone who could kill you with just one touch. Even though he'd learned to control his quirk, Tomura Shigaraki had little regard for human life. He hated almost everyone but took an interest in you.

It wasn't that he liked you. He was just curious, like a hunter hunting new prey or a scientist watching a new specimen. It didn't matter that the smell of your sweet perfume had drawn him in, and the way you were just so unbearably cute had kept him very interested.

He had followed you for four whole blocks; he got worried when you started heading towards this part of town. Tomura followed you, ready to attack anyone who tried to hurt you. He had concluded that you were the only tolerable person to exist on this stupid dying planet.

It got tricky when he followed you into an alley. There wasn't really anywhere to hide. He stepped on a twig and darted behind a trash can, praying that you didn't see him. Unfortunately you did see him. Well, part of him.

When you checked behind you again, a cute little tail was sticking out from behind an overflowing garbage can. You bit your lip as you smiled, pretending that you didn't see the kitty’s tail. To be fair, you didn't know if it was a girl or a boy, but you had gone with a random hunch you had.

When you reached your apartment, you took one final look around but assumed the little kitty had disappeared. Tomura wanted so badly to race right past you into your house and refuse to leave, but he didn't know who you were or what you'd do to a random uninvited cat. He just couldn't trust you. He wished he could.

The next time he walked by your house, he noticed some cat food sitting out. Did you have another cat? Who cares? He was hungry, so he walked up and ate most of the food. Maybe you could be a consistent source of food. When he heard your door unlock from the new box he'd taken residence in, he followed you to work and then back to your apartment. This went on for a good week and a half.

One day it began to rain. And then it started to pour. The box Tomura had taken shelter in was damp, and rain came right through it. He wanted to cry, he had nowhere to go, and he was cold. So so cold. He tried to hide anywhere he could but was chased out by other cats. He ran back to your apartment and desperately clawed and meowed at your door.

Inside, you heard him despite the heavy rain. If you‘d had the TV going, you wouldn't have heard his sad meows, but thankfully, you did. You open the door to see the cat that follows you home. He's skinny and has patches of fur missing, nearly bald, and his ear is cit. He's shivering and looks like he's about to faint.

You immediately scoop him up and hold him to your chest hoping to warm him up while you get a fresh towel out of the dryer. It's still warm and you wrap him up in it.

“Oh, poor kitty, you must be so hungry,” you say, picking him up while he's snuv in the warm towel.

He mewls quietly, agreeing with you. The food you'd been leaving out was always eaten by other cats when he got there.

“Come on, sweetie, it's gonna be okay,” you reassure.

He lets you carry him to the kitchen, where you open some cat food for him. He lets you feed him. He feels too weak to stand on his own legs. When the can of food is gone, his eyelids droop, and he nearly falls asleep in your arms. When you put him down, he cries for you to stay with him.

He's never felt this way before. Tomura isn't sure if he can trust you or not, but he needs you. He has to try and trust you.

“Aww, you want me to stay with you,” you're already gushing over the cute cat, “of course, sweetie,”

You scoop him into your arms and undo the towel a bit so he's not constricted. You fall asleep with him in your arms. When he wakes up, he sees you scrolling through your phone; he peeks at it and sees you're looking at missing pet reports.

His heart sinks. His old owner may not have cared about him but the thought of them putting up a report made him shake. You feel him stir and see how scared he looks.

“Hey, hey, it's okay,” you say, noticing him staring at the screen, “you can stay with me,”

He mewls in agreement and wriggles out of your arms.

“Hold on buddy,” you say picking him up.

When he notices where you're trying to look, he hisses at you and squirms until you put him down. If he'd have known you were such a pervert, he would have stayed out in the rain. The way you scratch behind his ears makes him forget all about how weird you were, and he purrs loudly.

“What should we name you?” you wonder out loud, you look at his light blue fur and decide on a name, “how about snowball,”

Tomura pretty much hates the name you chose for him, but oh well. He hops off the bed and decides to poke around the house. You follow him around and make sure he doesn't try to eat anything he shouldn't. Something in his little kitty brain lights up when he sees a room with a bunch of boxes. He doesn't know why he's so compelled to jump in them, but when he does, he's elated.

He hops in and out of them, looking at you for approval whenever he jumps, particularly high. You always reward him with clapping and words of praise. When he's finished playing on what he's deemed as the box room, he heads to the living room, rubbing his face all over your furniture to mark it as his territory.

He does the same with the rest of your house as well as you. He's having a good time until you pick him up and try to peek where you're not supposed to again. He hisses at you and is grumpy for the rest of the day, hiding under the couch, climbing into the cupboards, and causing havoc throughout your home.

When you yank him down from the highest shelf of the laundry room, he frowns at you (as much as a cat can) and stalks away to sleep on the couch. You're honestly not worried about his grumpiness. It just means he's getting his strength back and standing up for himself.

You do have to admit that you miss the way he had curled up in your arms last night. You love living with your kitty, and he still follows you to work time and time again. Over time he became for comfortable and a bit nicer (no more random biting) until he was comfortable enough to nap at the end of your bed.

The next time it rained, tomura was terrified. You were watching TV on the couch, and he jumped onto your chest. He needed you to cuddle him while it rained, so he didn't feel scared anymore. You were happy and also a bit surprised. Of course, you didn't complain while he purred as you held him.

His purring lulled you to sleep, and he got so comfortable he accidentally switched back into his hybrid form. Tomura wasn't born a cat, but hybrids on the streets are treated so cruelly that he decided he was safer im his cat form. When you woke up to a heavy weight on your chest, you jumped, causing Tomura to wake up.

When you look down and see a random guy lying on you, you immediately push him to the floor, trying not to look too far down since he was naked (cats don't wear clothes. You can't blame him). The thing that scared you the most was that you couldn't find your cat.

“Who are you!” you shrieked, looking down at the man.

You noticed he had the same ears and tail as “snowball,” but there's no way he was your pet Tomuras is a bit disgruntled from being woken up from his nap but kind of understands your distress.

“Who do you think?” he says, “I’m your cat, just a hybrid,”

You stare at him in shock, of course you knew about hybrids but he still scared you.

“My names Tomura,” he says, “so you can stop calling me snowball,”

“Why didn't you tell me?” you ask, confused, “I still would've taken you in,”

“Well I didn't know that,” he snapped.

Tomura was much moodier in his hybrid form because he had a better memory. He was able to remember all the abuse he endured and how badly he was treated. He didn't want to go through that again, but when you scratched behind his ears, he couldn't keep himself from purring.

“Let’s get you some clothes,” you say, guiding him to your room.

You had some spare clothes your brother had forgotten when he moved out. Tomura put them on eagerly, not wanting you to look too far down. Having fresh, clean clothes on was a new experience to him; his old master never gave him any, and he cringed at the thought, beginning to panic a bit.

You noticed the change in his breathing and wrapped your arms around him. That same sweet smell of your perfume that had drawn him in reached his nose, and he began to breathe slowly, taking in it all in.

“It’s okay,” you say softly, “it’s okay now you're safe,”

He nods, getting choked up at the thought of you caring about him. Over time your friendship strengthens, and even some romance blooms. You love spending the night snuggling with him and kissing him. Tomuras the best thing to ever happen to you and your the best to him.

He's finally found someone he can trust.

#shigaraki fluff #mha shigaraki #shigaraki tenko #shigaraki x reader #shiggy #shigaraki tomura #bnha shigaraki #shigaraki fanfiction #shigaraki x you #tomura x y/n #tomura fluff #tomura x reader #mha tomura #tomura imagine #tomura shiragaki #tomurashigaraki #tenko x reader

[noritoshiikamo]

Headcanons for the cursed womb siblings when they ship you and choso please 🌝 but choso is like a “job first, love later” kind of guy. He is responsible👏 He wants to support his siblings first👏 But they want nothing more than for their brother to have a lover.

modern au! office worker choso x reader no warning, just fluff. death painting brothers are normal humans, choso is just oblivious, reader is in love anywaysssss okay, i know it said headcanon but i went overboard and i cant help it anymore, choso brainrot tagging: @booksweet , @fushigurocockslut, @lazy10ieiri, @sassyeahhhh, @cotton-curse, @thevoidwriting, @dukinaxael

- job first, love later

you were the first girl choso ever brought home.

except it was by accident. your car had broken down in front of the office and you being typically you, had no idea what had happened to your shit car. “stupid, stupid!” you cursed, opening the front of your car, watching as puff of smoke escaped. you panicked, you never had anyone told you what to do with your car and such.

you were the only child in your family, your mother passed away when you were just a child and your father disappeared. you were sent away to a distance relative, the gojo where you grew up with satoru and his adoptive brother, megumi. but they are useless as a lump of coal. “y/n, are you okay?” you whipped up your head, wiping the dripping sweat off your worried head as you were greeting by a familiar face.

“oh, choso, thank god, do you know anything about car? i cant figure out why wont it start,” you cried clutching on his white sleeve before shrieking. you watched at your fingers left black smudges on his shirt, panicked overwhelmed you as you realised you just ruined the chance for help by ruining your savior’s shirt. but choso only laughed, brushing your panicked look aside and handed you his briefcase. “how long has it been like this?” he asked as he rolled his sleeves, you shrugged. “10 minutes? i think.”

“do you have any cloth i can use to check the coolant?” he asked. you nodded and headed to back, throwing the briefcase in the backseat. coming back with an old rag, you were surprise when choso grabbed your wrists. your face warmed up as he twisted and turned your hand, “did the steam hit your hand?” he asked, glancing up to your face. you shook your head and handed him the cloth. you watched as he did his thing, in 5 minutes he had the engine running and the temperature meter down.

“please, cho, let me sent you home. as a thank you!”

he smiled, “you don’t have too, i can take the subway.”

“i insisted!” you exclaimed, “plus i have your briefcase! aha, you need it so if you want it you have to let me drive you home. please?” you insisted, throwing a puppy face as you clutched both hands to your chest. he exhale heavily, before holding out his hand. your brow shot up in confusion, you placed your hand on his larger palm. you looked up to the older man, a small smile on his face. he was holding his laugh. “your car keys, y/n. lemme me drive you home at least,” he clarified, causing you to mentally slap yourself. the keys exchanged hands and you get in the passenger’s seat. he's a careful driver, he used the blinker and didn’t speed, you felt instantly safe under his care.

“do you live alone, choso?” you asked your coworker. he shook his head, “i live with my younger brothers, eso and chizu. our parents died a long time ago.”

“oh, same. my parents died a long time ago. i’m their only child. my uncle took me in, he’s like a brother to me,” you explained, reminded of your childhood growing up with satoru. he might not be an ideal father figure but he loves you like his own sister. the car slowed down in front of block A of some apartment. “you live here?” you asked glancing around. his apartment is definitely on the lower class scale, the building looks like it could be hundred years old with the chipped paint.

“yeah, i’ve been raising my brothers alone. money’s a bit tight, they are still studying,” he explained grabbing his case from the back. “thank you for helping me with my car,” you stopped him, placing your hand on his, “please let me replace your shirt. just tell me the brand and i’ll buy a new one, i’m so sorry.”

choso offered her a smile, waving his hand dismissively. “it’s okay, i can get the grease off easily. i should thank you for the ride instead. i owe you for that.”

“in that case, can i see your home?”

choso looked at you in amusement, his hand reached forward to ruffled your head, “you’re weird, y/n. but okay. a cup of tea won’t hurt.” he was sure that none of his siblings are home, parked the car and let you trailed him as you both entered the lift up to the 5th floor. you didn’t seemed to be bothered by the surrounding, the stray cats and the random pile of garbage, eyes only trained on his back as you trailed him. his house were around the corner of the stairs, further from the elevator with number 532 on the blue door. he pulled out his keys but the door was already opened.

“chizu won’t throw out the trash,” a shirtless guy with a mohawk greeted them, he was instead more surprised to see you hiding behind the man, “oh, who is this?”

“my coworker. she drove me home, i offered her some tea. i thought you two aren't home, clearly i was mistaken,” he mumbled, annoyed that his brothers were actually home. he turned to you who was looking away, he could see speckle of warmth on your face. "y/n, this is eso. eso, go be a decent human being and put on some shirt," choso ushered the man away before calling you in. you could see panic in his face when eso instead announced that choso was bring his girlfriend home to the other brother.

you couldn't help but to laugh.

-

you stood in front of door 532 ringing the door bell.

you could hear some yelling. someone was telling to get the door, someone yelled that they were busy in the bathroom and someone was angry in the kitchen. you felt conscious, maybe this was a bad time. you placed the paper bag on the floor and prayed you can make it to the stair but door opened. a voice greeted you.

"y/n?"

your steps halted. you turned around, flustered that you got caught. choso stood by the door, apron covering half of his bare body with a spatula in the other. "uh hi, i was just here to drop you something," you pointed to the bag on the floor, absolutely refusing to look up, why is he being so attractive in that stupid apron for, you cussed, "i'm sorry for disturbing your sunday, i'll go."

"is that y/n?" a voice in the background called.

choso looked back and nodding, "yup, it is her." you could see the desperate look on his face before another head popped out from the door. it was his younger brother chizu. he took a bite of the pancake, a wide smile on his face, "what's up, big sis?" the boy with the blue hair greeted her. you shrugged, pointing to the bag that's now in choso's hand. "i was just dropping something, i don't want to disturb your sunday," you shook your head but chizu insisted that you stay for breakfast.

"come on big sis, choso rarely bring any girl over, it actually is exciting to finally talk to someone who isn't as annoying as eso," chizu laced his arm around yours and dragged you through the door. you look at choso for help, the man could only shoot you a sympathetic smile before shutting the door. he followed you, leaning against the door frame of the kitchen as he watched you sat by the table. eso started filling your plate with fresh batch of pancakes while chizu started talking about this band he started to listen. you listened to it attentively, thanking eso for the syrup before he took a seat beside you.

choso took a peak of the paper bag, a small smile on his face when he realised there's a brand-new shirt in it with a sticky note on top of it. i'm sorry, hope this one fits you- the note said. he looked up to back to the table, you started to look like you belong there. the house has always been empty, it was just him and his brothers. you're just like a bouquet of fresh flowers sitting in a vase in the middle of the table; breath of fresh air to the kusozu family.

"pancakes, choso?"

your voice disturbed his thoughts. "tchh, choso, why you're looking at y/n-chan like that?" eso threw a spoon playfully at the older sibling as he walked to the table, "say, y/n, choso didn't do anything sexual to you or anything right? as your brother i'm worried," your eyes widened as you choked on your drink. chaos ensued in the house as choso threatened to murder the middle child, chizu could only sit back and enjoyed as you tried to calm him down while eso's obnoxious laugh echoed the small apartment.

"you better apologize, you broomhead or i'll murder you!"

eso stuck out his tongue, dodging the flying cup, "never!"

-

"i got something for chizu. would you mind giving it to him?"

you peaked your head in his office, waving another paperbag in hand. choso took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose, "you don't have to spoil my brothers, y/n. they are already a brat without you." you rolled your eyes and placed the bag on his pile of paperworks. "my younger brother, gumi- he knew the band's drummer, y'know the band he's been talking about and got a signed album for me. i'm not a fan so i figured chizu would've enjoyed it better than me." he peaked through the paper bag, a small smile on his face as he thanked you. you both sat in silence, you felt like you were disturbing the man so you excused yourself.

"y/n," your hand froze on the handle, "how can i pay up for everything nice you've done to us? i feel like it's unfair that you're doing all this nice things and i don't want to owe you anything." your turn and watched as the man walked close to you. choso looks handsome as usual, the blue tie matched his eyes while his slightly longer hair is slicked back. you recognized the shirt he's wearing, you bought it for him and it was nice of him to wear it to work.

"would like to go for a coffee with me?" you asked boldly.

"it's a date."

-

"it's not a date," choso sighed, combing his hair back.

"it is," eso crossed his arms on his chest, "she asked for a coffee and you said it's a date. bro, it is a date." the younger brother shook his head, motioned for him to part his hair. "slicked back make you look like you're going to office, yuck. if we wanna impressed big sis, you gotta look better than this."

"it's still not a date," choso protested, "it's just a coffee meet up."

the doorbell rang.

"yeah, it's not a date when you spend an hour worrying over your hair, cho," chizu ran to the front door, waiting at the door was you. you didn't have to go up and fetch him at the door, but you actually enjoyed meeting his brothers you didn't mind the hassle anymore. "damn, y/n, you dress better when you're not going to office," chizu complemented you. you could only shake your head, pocketing your hands in the plaid skirt that fell just at your knees, "i only dress up to important stuff, job sucks ass, i ain't spending my good outfits going to work," you kicked off your boots and walked in.

"you listen to that cho, at least she knew that this that is important!"

your eyes widened at his word and the younger brother dodged your fist easily. choso peaked through the door, a smile grew on his face when his eyes caught yours, "huh, i didn't realise we are going to colour coordinate," he said, stepping out. you realised that you both had accidentally matched each other's outfit, speckles of warmth spread all over your face when you noticed how it looks like. chizu, being the loose lip took the words right out of your head, "you both look like you're dating."

"we are not dating!" both of you exclaimed immediately only for eso and chizu to share a look.

"stop that," choso warned, disappearing into the kitchen, "tea, y/n?" you yelled a yes before following him. "don't mind them, they are being an idiot." you watched as he poured sugar in a cup with teabag, before putting the kettle on. "i don't mind," you shrugged it off, fidgeting nervously with the corner of your blouse. the comforting silence that engulfed both of you were short lived.

"oh, choso, i actually want to tell you that i like you!"

chizu's soft voice easily imitated your voice, something you took offended off. you turned around to see the two brothers perched on the kitchen hatch. "i do not sound like that!" you gasped. it was eso's turn, coming through with his rendition of choso.

"oh, y/n! i like you too, but i'm just dumbass and refuse to admit my feeling!"

"i will not hesitate to sent you back to mom and dad," choso warned.

"i also think that eso is way good looking that i am, but i'm scared that he will swoop you away from me," eso continued, at this point even you couldn't hold your laughter as you pressed your palm over your mouth. "what you laughing for, y/n?" choso's eyes narrowed as he glanced at you, huffing in annoyance. "hey! don't be mad at me for laughing, he did it well." you could see his own cheeks growing redder and redder with every mocking.

"go away, boys," you shushed them, walking to choso's side as he poured the hot water in the cup. resting against the counter, you thanked him when the cup exchanged hands, looking down on the swirling liquid that you didn't realise choso's fingers hooking under your chin, tilting your face up. all you realised was his soft lips against yours.

you are kissing your coworker in his kitchen.

"cho-" you whispered between the kiss but he hushed you, his hand now resting against your waist pulling your closer, deepening his kiss, "don't mind them." you tasted like your chapstick, his kiss was soft but it was enough to leave you breathless in his arms. you look in each other's eyes, a new realization to what had just happened had you both flustered.

"god, if our shit imitation would've finally made you both realise that you two dumbass like each other, we would've done this months ago," eso snickered. the two brothers had moved from the hatch to the table, heads resting on hands watching the new lovebird. "would you mind waiting for 5 minutes while i murder my brother? i promise it won't take long, then we'll continue with our date," choso asked quietly, brushing a stray hair off your cheek as you brought the mug to your lips, hiding the small smile behind the cup as you nodded. you watched amusingly, sipping on your tea as the two brothers ran around the small apartment, yelling profanities while chizu hugged you.

"welcome to the family, big sis."

you ruffled his blue hair, your cheeks hurt but you just couldn't stop smiling, "if it wasn't to you, i don't think i wouldn't even dare to speak my feelings. so, thank you. the voice acting was shit tho."

"you thank us, you hate us, geez, big sis, make up your mind," chizu teased you, winking as he brushed it off as a joke, "you help us a lot, i never seen choso so happy before. he worries a lot. about us, money. it was good sometimes to see him put himself first," chizu shrugged, cheek resting on your shoulder, "we survived before, we'll survive now. choso has nothing to worry about. you too, we are alright, okay?"

you nodded, resting your cheek on his head, heart overwhelmed with love for you newly found family, you felt belonged here.

#writing: request answered #writing: fics #choso #choso x reader #choso x y/n #choso fluff #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso imagine

[paperandsong]

Illustration by André Castaigne, 1911

Phantom of the Opera and Carnival - some thoughts

While ALW’s Masquerade lyrics imply that the masked ball happens at New Year’s – toasting to a prosperous year and a new chandelier – in Leroux’s novel the masked ball happens sometime before Shrovetide/avant les jours gras. Shrovetide is an archaic English way of saying Carnival. While Masquerade is a great song, ALW’s decision to move the date of the masked ball means that it loses some of the symbolism and disconnects the story from the greater tradition of Carnival. I have some thoughts about this. It’s a little long, apologies.

What is Carnival? Primarily, it’s a season: the period of time between January 6 (Twelfth Night) and Mardi Gras (the day before Ash Wednesday). The date of Mardi Gras changes every year because it is linked to the dates of Easter and Passover and calculated using the lunar calendar. Carnival is celebrated in some way in most of Europe and in most of the Western Hemisphere, especially in areas colonized by France, Portugal, and Spain. It is not widely celebrated in the U.S. except along the Gulf Coast, primarily in Louisiana, because this region was colonized by France and Spain and the tradition became entrenched before the area became English-speaking. Carnival is celebrated to a lesser extent in Africa, again as a result of colonization. I’m not sure about Carnival celebrations in Asia (leave a comment if you do know!) While Carnival traditions vary widely depending on geography and culture, there are some elements that define the celebrations: masks and hidden identities, processions that later became parades, an excess of food, music, and dance. Carnival is older than Christianity. Most of the pre-Christian elements seem to come from the Romans. But the Carnival that was exported across the world along with colonization was very much a medieval Catholic tradition.

Modern Carnival is usually celebrated as a secular holiday.  But in order to explain Carnival, I have to address the religious roots. [I’m not trying to preach, I promise.] The word Carnival comes from the Latin carnes, flesh. It is a celebration of the flesh in every respect. The excessive hard partying could be viewed an attempt to eat up all the butter and get out all the sinful behavior before Lent, the 40 day liturgical season proceeding Easter, when there is an expectation of fasting and hard praying and grim contemplations of death (Stations of the Cross, Passion Plays). But you can also view Carnival as a very intentional celebration of the ephemeral nature of life.  The dates of Carnival correspond with the liturgical season of Epiphany, which is the only period of the year when Jesus is alive and concerned with human things – he is a mischievous child, he goes to weddings with his mom, his miracles are often quotidian and material – wine and bread and fish. Only three to four months pass from the time Jesus is born at Christmas to the time he dies at Easter. His human life was short and fleeting. Carnival/Epiphany are about the fleeting nature of all life. A celebration of the flesh. Ash Wednesday serves as the reminder that eventually it will all turn to dust. You must burn through the ephemeral to reach the eternal. Carnival isn’t only about excess before deprivation. It is a celebration of life in the face of death.  

New Orleans Carnival/Mardi Gras provides the perfect metaphor for this. Parades involve “throws” to the crowds – trinkets, usually beads, plastic coins, toys, cakes. People can get a little crazy in their thirst for beads – especially the rare glass ones. But come Wednesday, the beads grow dim before your very eyes. Thousands of them get crushed beneath the wheels of garbage trucks cleaning up the streets. No matter what wealth you have accumulated in this world, no one, absolutely no one, can take it with them when they die.

Carnival is a time when the old order is inverted. Jesus was meant to turn the world upside down – a king born in a barn! Costuming and masking blur gender and class lines. In the Americas, while racial lines were historically very much imposed even during Carnival, it was also a rare time when slaves and later free people of African descent were allowed to express their cultures in public. This is clearly still true in Carnival as it is celebrated in Brazil, the Caribbean, New Orleans. Carnival can work to temporarily equalize the masses as masked people blend into each other and lose their own identities.

So, what does any of this have to do with Phantom of the Opera? Erik appears at the masked ball dressed as the Red Death. Yes, clearly, he is a fan of Poe. He’s a well-read man! But death very much has a role to play in Carnival and it isn’t at all uncommon to see people dressed as death or other morbid figures. Because Carnival celebrates life, it is inherently celebrating the ephemeral. All life ends. And that is what makes it beautiful and worthy of celebration.

Erik enjoys his connection to death. Depending on your reading of Leroux, Erik is probably not even wearing a mask, stalking the party in his full hideous glory, as Daroga might say. This is especially meaningful when you consider Leroux’s famous quote about Parisians and masking. While Erik is a trickster and a liar, on this night, a night of inversions, he is the most honest man at the Garnier. He is there to remind others of their own mortality. And this is a perfectly normal and sane way to celebrate Carnival. The party goers aren’t afraid of Erik (except that one guy who touched him) – they greatly admire his costume; they even ask where he had it made. As if he were just a normal reveler. Even today it would be completely normal for there to be a guy dressed as death walking around a Carnival party. In this way Erik is almost the opposite of Poe’s Red Death, whose mere presence offends Prince Prospero so much he orders him killed on sight. Perhaps it is because Prospero himself does not understand the nature of his own Carnival or life itself. You cannot lock Death outside.

While the party goers seem amused by Erik’s costume, and we enjoy Erik’s moment of pure arrogance and swag, I don’t think Erik’s performance is entirely symbolic. It’s also a threat. If he really had as much gunpowder under his house as Daroga informs us, then it would have taken a while to get it all down there. On the night of the masked ball, isn’t it possible that the gunpowder was already there beneath the Opera? Only Erik would have known this. I think this made him feel powerful, to walk around knowing that at any moment he could end it all. He was there to embody Death, to incarnate it. To make it flesh.

#carnival #carnaval #phantom of the opera #le fantôme de l'opéra #gaston leroux #red death #edgar allen poe #you can't take it with you #mardi gras

[dom--minnie]

Ready

Content: historical fantasy au (eh???), non-graphic death, injuries, violence, lemme know anything else?

Word count: 1494

Unofficial sequel to ease by @fizzydrink698 ! I was just inspired by Fi’s big brain, as usual really. And read hers first of course

You stand beside the king, anticipating the next few minutes of your life. It has all been coming to this, the last few years of hard work finally coming to fruition. The king turns his head slightly in your direction, to where he knows you are standing and waiting in the shadows.

"Come forward. I want them to see the cause of their undoing."

The request doesn’t surprise you, but it does make you sigh and take an extra second before doing as you were told. A few more minutes, seconds even, by now, and then… and then you would be free. Your family would be free, finally free from the debt that had bound you here.

The last 2 years have admittedly been easier, fun even, if you will. Being around the Thunderous camps was easier than being in the tense atmosphere of the castle. With the Thunderous soldiers everything had felt more like camaraderie, and less like anyone and everyone wanted you to fail. That didn't matter. It didn't matter how badly you craved attention and friendship like that, this was what your life was like now.

The harsh kicking in of the door startles you from your thoughts. Almost reflexively, you step back before a harsh glare from the advisor stops you. Right, you are a sign of what Thunderous had lost and would lose.

Two soldiers drag Chan in and you almost wince at how bad he looks. A black eye, puffy cheeks, and a good number of cuts on his arms. Still, he doesn't look up or make a sound as they scrape his knees across the rough carpet. Not too kindly, the guards toss him onto his knees at the bottom of the throne steps. When he doesn't look up one of them kicked his side and the heavy wince told you there’s at least bruising there, knowing those two, likely much more.

His eyes, the warm, brown eyes that you got so used to looking at. Now, when they land on you it is only with disdain and betrayal. You know it’s deserved, but that doesn't stop the hurt that comes along and tugs at your heart. Still, you preserve your features in passivity, not betraying how much you still care. Caring can't put Chan back in his untouchable leader position, and caring would never free your family from that prison.

"Bang Chan. Or Chris, whatever it is you go by now."

Chan's nose wrinkles at the way the king spat out his name, not seeming to know or care about the danger he is in.

"I'd rather you keep your name out of your dirty mouth entirely, honestly."

The same guard kicks Chan's side again and the gasp followed by heavy breathing is heard by the whole room.

"Now, now, Seb. Be nice to our guest. Even if I wish that filthy dogs like him didn't have tongues to speak."

Chan scowls and rolls his eyes, keeping his head up for the king to see.

"Am I just here so you can insult me or is there a reason I was kicked about 17 times on the journey?"

You instantly know that Seb was responsible for many of his visible injuries then. Some of them may have been from the initial capturing but the bruises are an extra gift from Seb for sure. Despite that, Chan still looks strong. He has a set to his shoulders that showed his strength, and his constant back talk shows no fear. You’re impressed, honestly. Usually, by the time people get back to the castle they are silent and resigned, beaten mentally and physically.

"Of course. You are to be put to trial for many things. Would you like to know the full list or shall we just get on with throwing you into your cell? I'm sure your fellow rats will be happy to see you."

The amount of comparisons to dirty animals, this is getting boring. You may think that such a famed speaker would have more creative insults, but alas, here you are having to listen to the same thing again and again.

"I'm sure most of them are garbage so I'll pass. Though, I do wonder how many of them are your crimes just passed on to me?"

You raise an eyebrow at Chan's boldness. He has never said it outright but most people in the castle know that the king is doing less than savoury activities to try and turn people against Thunderous.

"Soldier."

Despite the number of soldiers in the room, you know he means you. With an inward sigh you step forward and kneel in front of him.

"My liege, what can I do for you?"

Your head is down and that's why you don't see the same 2 guards stepping away from Chan and grabbing hold of your shoulders.

"Now that you've done such a wonderful job completing this quest, I think you're due a reward."

They pull you up and the shock freezes your body. The king looks down upon you as they drag you away.

"Into the dungeon. That way you can be with your family again! Isn't that what you wanted after all?"

Before you can even think again the room explodes with light. When your eyes and mind recover there are stones falling from the walls and the edges of fabric are singed. Hurriedly, you put out the embers on your clothes, the flames burning with the slightest touch. Chan isn't as weak as he had appeared before and is now standing at the centre of  the flames. He is untouched and you’re slightly awed by the demonstration of his power. Not full out, he isn't well enough for that, but it’s telling as to how much you should be fearing for your life right now.

A single glance to the throne tells you that the court warlock had appeared and stolen the king away before too much damage could be done. Heavy steps start towards you and you fall to your knees, praying only that he will make it quick.

The footsteps stop and you look up at Chan when he says and does nothing. The look on his face is indecipherable to you, even with how long you've spent with him.

"Everything you did, and he still threw you to the dogs like that?"

It takes your brain a moment to catch up. The king was absolutely preparing to throw you in the dungeons. After the years of endless work that you did for him, and he was just never planning to follow through on it. The thought nearly makes you sick to your stomach. That, and what he may have told your family in the meantime. At this point, they might think you're dead or have abandoned them and moved on.

"I... Please, just don't kill me before I get them out. After that, I am yours to deal with. I wouldn't blame you for anything you do."

The words are hard to choke out and your voice ends in a whisper. Knowing that you're signing yourself off to the mercy of someone you betrayed is practically a death sentence.

You seem to forget it's Bang Chan you're dealing with.

"Do you want to come back to the Thunderous camp with me?"

What? Your confusion is more than obvious on your face and Chan laughs a little before speaking again.

"After we get your family out of those gross dungeons, of course. Do you want to come join Thunderous with me? Officially this time, not so you can plan for my kidnapping again."

You wince at his carefree way of speaking about the horrible actions that have certainly happened to him over the last week or so. The last year if you’re counting all your spying.

"So... wait. You're not killing me?" Chan shakes his head once. "And you want me to actually join you? Even though the last time that happened..." Chan nods his head twice.

"Bang Chan. You're either very kind or very stupid. I hope I'm right about which one it is."

You take one more look around the room at the people who you were often with over the last few years. It's strange to see them completely unmoving, and it'll take a while to sink in that you'll never see them again.

"Okay," you breathe out heavily. Starting to stand up your knees wobble a little, even if you thought you got over the adrenaline from before. Chan's hand shoots out to your shoulder to steady you. When you don't stop him he grabs one of your hands to help pull you up as well.

He's warm, so warm, and you immediately miss it as soon as he steps away.

"Ready?" He asks, a small smile on his face.

"Ready." You say, mirroring the smile.

You've said it to your captains a thousand times, but this time, you really mean it.

#stray kids drabbles #stray kids scenario #stray kids oneshot #bang chan imagines #bang chan x reader #bang chan scenarios #chan scenario #chan drabble #chan x reader #stray kids x reader #my writing #skz scenario #skz oneshot #skz imagine

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

Cook

Aymeric’s lady love is a woman of many talents...cooking is not one of them.

The Lord Speaker of the House of Lords returned to his home later than he originally planned due to more nonsense from his titled colleagues. It was enough to make his head ache. Or better yet, silence them with Naegling. Oh for Fury’s sake, now I sound like Estinien.

The first thing Aymeric noticed when he greeted his manservant was the worried look on the older elezen’s face. “Guillaume, is aught amiss?”

“My lord, Mistress Calab is in the kitchen. Marceline is attempting to assist her, but Mistress Calab is refusing all help.”

Rena…in the kitchen? “And, pray tell, what is Mistress Calab doing in the kitchen?”

Guillaume cleared his throat. “I believe Mistress Calab is making a valiant attempt to cook for you, my lord. Her exact words were, ‘How hard can this be? Aymeric makes it look so easy.’”

Oh no. “Ah, I see…well, I’ll change and run to the kitchen as fast I can.”

Guillaume nodded. “Very good, my lord. I’ll continue to monitor the situation.”

Aymeric ran as fast as he could up the stairs to his bedroom while still in his armor. Oh Rena, what have you gotten yourself into this time?

When he changed into far less formal clothes---black sweater, gray trousers, and his favorite black silk slippers---he made his way to the kitchen to observe the possible damage.

His cook Marceline was huffing and puffing in the corner, watching the au’ra with a mix of impatience and distain. Once she saw Aymeric, she curtsied. “My lord, welcome home.”

Rena immediately stopped the furious mixing she was doing, practically threw the bowl down, and leapt at him. “WELCOME HOME, MY HEART!”

“My lo-oooof!” Aymeric caught her, nearly having the wind knocked out of him. She’s small but fierce, my love is. “I heard from Guillaume that you’ve been cooking.”

After giving Aymeric a peck on the cheek, Rena went to the counter and picked up two plates. “See, I made some chicken! It’s cooked all the way through, don’t worry. And you can cut off the black bits. There’s rice too that’s not too hard! And these-“ she gestured to the mixing bowl. “are going to be cookies. The batter just seems a bit weird though. It’s quite watery not like when you make cookies.”

Aymeric’s eyes widened as his dearest love explained what she had done. Black bits?! Watery cookie batter?!?!?! Rena my love my light no no no no. “My dearest, you know I love you with all my heart.”

Rena turned and smiled. “As I do you, Aymeric.”

How to put it delicately… “As much as I love you, my sweetest flower, I think it would be best, if perhaps Marceline or myself made supper for us. Ah, I know, we can bake some cookies together for dessert. How does that-“

Aymeric stopped when he saw Rena’s crestfallen face.

“Oh.”

“Darling, please, I appreciate everything you have worked so hard on. My heart is fit to burst with love and admiration for you.” Aymeric embraced her, rubbing her back and kissing the top of her head. “You have many talents, dearest.”

“But cooking isn’t one of them.” Rena sighed. “I tried. I really did. Are you angry?”

Angry?!?!?! What in the world… “Rena, I am not angry in the slightest.” Though, Marceline appears to want to throw you in the garbage. “I am flattered, nay delighted, that you do such a thing for me.”

Rena took his hands into hers. “You work so hard. And before you say it, I know I do as well, but you deal with so much petty bullshit on a daily basis. I don’t know how you do it honestly.” She laughed. “I only wished to show you my love and appreciation with a meal. And I cocked it up completely.”

Aymeric gave her a hearty laugh. “Oh my love, you certainly did cock it up. However, I think Marceline-“

“My lord I’ll have supper ready for you and Mistress Calab within the hour.” Marceline announced, glaring at Rena.

“I think we should leave Marceline to it, dearest. Come, tell me about your day. I want to hear about absolutely everything.” Aymeric offered Rena his arm, but she instead leapt into him again. “Oooof!” He positioned her to carry her bridal style. Her favorite.

“And I’d love to hear about your day. Every boring detail, my handsome knight. I want it all.”

As they left the kitchen, Marceline sighed. At least Mistress Calab didn’t blow anything up…this time.

#rena calab #aymeric de borel #aymeric x wol #wolmeric #rena really shouldn't cook #like seriously she should never cook #aymeric loves her but will not eat that shit

[laniidae-passerine]

your Gomez!master and Dhawan!master analysis post is so accurate!! I wish this post could be sent directly to Chibnall himself. Those writing decisions in the purposeful lack of continuity in the character development they had with Missy were the main problem that made it not work despite the casting being so good

I’m not exactly which one you’re referring to anon, but thank you!!! It really sucks that the show has completely driven the Master off the rails and while there are a few fun moments it really just feels like they completely abandoned the development of Missy (one of the few things Moffat ever did right) and now nothing makes sense. I know I’ve written meta trying to reason and rationalise the devolution of the Master but as the season went on, their behaviour just became increasing unjustifiable and intensely confusing. None of the knowledge (that I’m praying is false) that we learnt about 13 would cause Gomez!Master to collapse like this - she may be shocked, upset and a little angry but she would immediately seek out her best friend and ask them what they were going to do next.

Missy learnt about love. She learnt to grow and sacrifice and be brave through opening her heart and facing her crimes. She would never, ever hurt anybody the way that Dhawan!Master did because she finally found the peace and the beginnings of love with her best friend again. Dhawan!Master is the same as Gomez!Master, at least right after regeneration, and if it doesn’t make any sense for her to do it, it doesn’t make any sense for him to do it either.

Also I seriously don’t get why the Master’s first impulse wasn’t to run to the Doctor. The two of them had begun to rebuild their relationship to the point where Capaldi!Doctor truly believed that she could be trusted and redeemed. If I was Dhawan!Master, my first thought wouldn’t be to run to Gallifrey but to seek out the one person I knew saw the good in me. Why wouldn’t he? He knows that the proof of his new face and a pretty believable story would make sense to the Doctor - and even if it isn’t enough, they’re sane enough to behave in a way that would regain most of that lost trust. It’s like if you got shot and instead of running to the hospital that you know will help and heal you, you run straight into the sea for the saltwater to burn your wounds.

It feels like Chibnall didn’t even watch Missy’s arc and just decided people think it’s more fun to watch a horribly unrepentant villain like Simm!Master, when really a lot of us prefer an antihero. Yeah, I’d love it if Dhawan!Master was a little problematic and shot or killed some people here or there when the Doctor couldn’t, but all the insane batshit things he did were just too much. I want the Master that twirls an umbrella and playfully teases the Doctor while threatening people with guns, not the one that wears a fucking SS uniform. That’s far too much and it’s antithetical to the person we just saw pre-regeneration, who cared and loved and grew.

Also, this is our first main character poc timelord and hhhhhhhhhhhhhh as a half SA woman myself... wow this is what we get???? not fun, playful, flirty Dhawan!Master but instead actual genocidal, vicious, helps the actual Nazis Dhawan!Master?????? I hate you Chibnall and not even Martin!Doctor makes up for the absolute garbage fire (she kinda makes it worse cause you screwed her up too) and I just wish these actors were given scripts that their skills deserved.

#thank you anon!!!!! #I still think deeply about this it’s why I can’t watch DW anymore #doctor who #missy #gomez!master #dhawan!master #simm!master #dw #dw meta #dw critical #anti chris chibnall #asked #answered