twitch chats are so exhausting 

can you write another Yan streamer x m!reader but have it yan!streamer invite reader to his stream for some gaming and chat actually liking reader a bit more than yan!streamer or just trolling on him, then maybe after the reader and yan!streamer start talking about dicks again and reader mocks yan!streamer saying he probably cums quick like a virgin, and then it inevitably leads to them jerking off together on a video call both mocking each other about how their faces look or the noises they both make just a angry video jerk off sesh.... and if I had to use like the terms you listed on your rules probably a domtop m!reader x dombot yan!streamer vibes, both fighting for dominance but reader wins ^_^

sorry it took so long, havent been getting lotta inspo to write for streamer yan ....... sorry for any mistakes mwah

yandere amab streamer x loser amab reader

[ his name is ambrose. he just looks like an ambrose shh. ] cw;; masturbation, creep streamer - mentions of stalking

it's a wonder how he manages to live so long. this goddamn idiot… he, ambrose - a friend, some weirdo streamer ( who you watch on the down low ) who invited you on his stream.

skeptical of course, as anyone would be really… like, would you be doxxed for hanging out with this guy??? he did have quite the following - ( you werent about to admit that he's pretty ), so it'd be a bit normal to have a few threatening comments directed at you.. haha. but that didn't seem to be the case at all! entering with the line, “you ruined my cloud watching.” when in reality you were just fucking around on your computer with no intent to play nor bother nor be bothered nor cloud watch - stealing the attention quite easily with idiotic one-liners after you kill him. the score, 10 to 3. how embarrassing for him…

“you literally keep giving yourself away, what's wrong with you?” you grunt, annoyed. yet humorous... not watching his stream for once to take him down for once… how commendable. but with one quick glance at his chat would tell you all you need to know, really… they seemed to favor you. your “cloud-watching” really got through to them, huh??? ( of course it was ambrose talking about you to his chat beforehand ) ah - in the midst of reading the flirtatious and ego-boosting comments, you were killed in your hunkered down position by melee.. yeah fuck this guy. grumbling to yourself as he laughs at you, face growing warm - anger or embarrassment? both.

“dude, just say AFK?” ambrose snorts, acting as though you are stupid. fuck you can't stand that tone of voice… obviously, you actually being pissed off is something he immediately takes note of - after a few more minutes of badgering you, he decides to end the stream. a sorrowful goodbye from his chat to you… how sweet.

ambrose humming in delight, clicking away and immediately running around the map to figure out where you respawned. if only he could stream snipe you like you do him... the second best thing is just watching you on a smaller monitor playing in your room. jerking off every other night like a crazed freak... him to you. he cant help himself, alright?!ㅡ“what do you know? who just got knifed in the throat?” that smug little bastard. in a private room, 1v1 on a relatively huge map… just for the comedic appeal for his viewers as he told you over messages

ㅡ“fuck you, i was away from keyboard!!”

“good game..” he says after an awkward throat clearing - squirming in his chair, trying to keep his tone from wavering…

“whatever, fuck you…” obviously having no other insult other than the classic fuck you. you grimace at your words, knowing you could've done better - done worse, commenting on his physical appearance again, or even mentioning dicks. but you were… hn. thinking about something else. jerking off after this ends…

ㅡ"yeah, yeah, i bet you dream of that…”

“no… who would want to dream of fucking a two-pump fuck like you?” you wrinkle your nose, grinning mischievously as you exit the lobby - relaxing back in your chair… “you wouldn't last.” you say simply, glaring over the camera at his form over the monitor.

ambrose scoffs, jerking his head back in disbelief. was he really talking this way to his object of affection? this is just like the dick thing all over again. he already feels his dick itching - precum smearing and staining his boxers as he aches uncomfortably in-between his legs.. “you probably can't last long… you seem like the type of virgin to cum right when he sticks his dick inside someone. or even something.. ” he huffs - a bit too nonchalantly. you weren't even on stream to be play fighting like this - ( doing it mostly for attention and because it's just your attitude - ) yet here you were.. “you seem to be the type to just use toys cuz he can't get anyone to let him fuck...” he grumbles under his breath, obviously picked up by his high-quality mic- it seems your comment hurt him, huh…?

“naah…” you shake your head, lackadaisical. “i pride myself in lasting long.” with multiple long lasting sessions of edging - yes, you couldn't not gloat. and this fucking guy would have no way of knowing if you were being serious or not… of course - ambrose knew this. he knew all too well of course?? spying on you, masturbating to clips of you jerking it - one so reminiscent it pops into his head doing his daily routine... your thighs trembling from overstimulation of not cumming, your head thrown back against your chair, fist gripping at your dick and languidly stroking... teasing yourself. augh..

ambrose pauses for a brief moment - looking off camera and fiddling with his keyboard. a moment of awkward silence… you fear you went too far with your teasing before he breaks the uncomfortable quiet withㅡ“why don't you prove it?”

ㅡhuh?

“prove it?” you repeat, dumbfounded and glancing at the monitor displaying his face - jumping slightly when you see him already glaring into you, immediately looking away. “prove it by what, jerking off in front of you?” you scoff at the idea - definitely open to it. it sounds like something you jerked off to once anyhow - and to live it out with this fucking jackass tryhard? hm.

“... yeah. let's see who'll last the longest…” ambrose shrugged, all “cool-like”. “actuallyㅡno.” he shakes his head, grinning smugly as he runs a hand through his shaggy brown hair, playing his chill-relaxed guy persona.. “i already know it'll be me, no need to embarrass you.” he snorts, shaking his headㅡ

he gets anxious after you don't reply for the next minute. you couldn't help it - you were thinking excruciatingly hard about the offer - jacking off to each other, technically? well.. don't mind if you do…

“... sure.” you finally decide, pursing your lips and making a point not to look at the screen displaying his face, fiddling with your keyboard. “i'll win. you're a fucking virgin, after all..” still getting one last grumbling insult in… sounding utmost serious about the whole ordeal, and he was sure you would. he ... really, realistically, wouldnt last a minute...

“s-sure??” he questions, making sure he heard you correctly - seriously? SERIOUSLY SERIOUS? already fumbling with his pants - dick hard from just talking to you, the person he held deep affection forㅡ

"y-you look.. so .." you exhale deeply, biting harshly on your bottom lip as you thumb the slit of your cock; warm spit-covered palm gripping softly, up down up down.. urk-! head tilted back and glaring into the monitor that displays his frame, shirt pulled up revealing his abdomen and a full shot of his cock that he was abusing- you can't finish your first sentence, it was supposed to be an insult... but the coiling of your lower intestines distracts you - and you try to dissuade your bodyㅡ”really… i can tell you're seriously holding back.” trying to act all nonchalant while beating your dicks on video chat.. fucking nerds.

"y-you're one to talk, look at you!!" he hisses, almost slamming his hand on the table as he grips the base of his cock. jesus. fucking loser ass nerds. "you're clearly about to cum. j-just look at your faceㅡwhat, do i get you off?? cmon, you can tell me.."

tell him that he gets you horny? as if, that fucking creep.

"Rng isn't random"

Excuse me??

Hey, English speakers, can someone explain the abbreviation of the word RNG to me? I don't want to be a smart ass but doesn't it stand for *RANDOM* number generator?

Alas, maybe I shouldn't really trust someone who assumes that everyone who is unluckily low rolling is automatically believing that they have shady dice. Or somebody who is willing to explain everything with conformation bias and treats everyone like a fucking idiot.

Like, as a gamer myself I find a lot of chance encounters to be fair and good for the quality of the game and the game itself. And I am a chronic low roller. I utterly hate playing Talisman because of this (one game I was changed into a frog back to back to back and never left the outter circle. And the game was 6 hours long). I played competitive Pokemon and I know this is nothing but a game of chances and people saying otherwise are delusional. Yes, there is skill floor you can reach when it comes to mind games, or quick in head math for damage calculation, or general knowledge of the movepools of Pokemon *despite* their ranking. But is it skillful if your Pokemon misses 3 Hydro Pumps in a row? No, you're just being unlucky with 80% accurate move. Or inherent ~7% crit chance which deals 150% damage and bypasses self stat drops. Or 25% full paralysis which robs you out of turn.

But would the Mario Party be fun without random games in between? Or Mario Kart without items? Like, oh yeah, you really showed me how to drive there. I don't even have driving license.

I find dodge and crit chance in every game to be annoying and unfair and unfun to play against. Like, I can make an entire essay worth of complaing how crit chance and crit damage ruins a lot of games. But alas, it is there for some flavour.

And for good measure; just because you play with the RNG system to have a bit of "karma" in there, so you don't just low roll till heat death of the universe, doesn't make it any less random. And not everyone who low rolls all game is furious hot head with conformation bias. And not everyone who wins against you in a video game is stream sniping you.

I've been putting off writing about these next two dreams for like two weeks idk why. but i recorded myself speaking them so i havent forgotten. anyway dream one. my extended family, close friends, and gf were all at this campsite.. kind of french shallay campsite vibe. it was sunny. I didn't see a lot of my extended family. i knew my ex best friend's extended family were there too, i saw the back of their heads in a different picnic field, but we didn't interact. woke up one morning in a bunk bed dorm room shallay with jess issi soyeon and freya and we were all really grogy and had slept really weirdly, we were saying it was as if we'd done MD the night before. my grandma was there and started crying, she was really upset at the idea of me doing drugs and being messed up like that, she thought we meant we had actually done md that evening and i was cuddling her telling her of course I wouldn't bring drugs on a family camping holiday. she was very relieved and we had a long hug and a cry. she was saying how I'm still her baby granddaughter. there were stepping stones over shallow streams around this campsite that i remember walking across. i kept noticing that i was naked from the waist down and was trying to style it out. i was walking around down this street that had loads of huge pubs/taverns. there was a really cocky annoying guy who i think was outside one of the pubs trying to get in and i was on the other side of the door... we had some kind of altercation through the door i can't remember exactly what was said. he was being really annoying about it. i kept walking and found my two half cousins who i havent seen for ages. i kept remembering i didn't have any clothes on and getting really embarrassed. and then one of the cousins looked at me and said "do you think you'll ever get labia reduction surgery like get them sniped because they're so big and long they look like open barn doors" WHAT THE FUCK. (SIDE NOTE I WOKE UP LIKE ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME HOW LONG HAS THAT PHRASE BEEN IN MY SUBCONSCIOUS BECAUSE IVE NEVER HEARD ANYKNE SAY THAT BEFORE. OPEN BARJ DOORS??). i made him feel SO BAD about havinf said that to me and then left. on my way back to the campsite the annoying guy from earlier had turned out to be a comedian and he was doing a bit about the weirdest most annoying people he'd had altercations with in pubs and he was talking about me as i walked past. then i woke up??? bruh ☠️☠️

if ur req are still open, i'd love to req something w/ ur streamer au! i eat it all up nomnomnom

anyway, u know how in some games, streamers get stream sniped or how in some circumstances and games, ppl can like spawn camp u or kill u over and over? what if like reader is in that situation and they get either sad or just mad at the game and ofc, them bois gotta exact revenge for them with the fury of an angry gamer! maybe separate scenarios w/ childe, xiao, and kaeya? ty !

HI LOVE, I LOVE THIS REQUEST SMM????! work has been getting really stressful lately and i apologize for not not doing your requests if you did send one. I also apologize for not doing any headcannons lately. streamer! childe, xiao, kaeya x online friend! reader recommend listening to: telepatía

streamer! childe x online friend! reader • you and childe play games together often, most of the time childe streams them. • and today was no different, you and childe was just playing valorant - you two were just laughing while playing, interacting with his fans occasionally when suddenly you got shot, you responded with a "aw, they at least have good aim.." • childe didn't react much, he was going to go kill that person either way - but when you respawned and got shot AGAIN, it was getting quite annoying for you and for childe too. • after you respawning and getting shot multiple times, you got sad - all you wanted to do was just play the game and have fun yet this person kept on spawn killing you and it was really irritating you. • childe on the other hand was FURIOUS, all he wanted to do was play the game with you, and this player kept on spawn killing you?? like, literally killing you?? his crush?? yea no. • you was done with this game and told childe that you was just going to stop playing for a bit and once you're done you'll come back on, obviously everyone was upset - childe didnt want you to go and so did the other. the only thing that would've made you like this was that annoying player who kept on camping near your respawn area and spawn killed you. • the first thing that came up in childe's mind was to keep on repeatedly kill that person until they get annoyed and leave the game so you can join back. • childe obviously will miss you and so would the others, so when you leave childe almost immediately tells the viewers about his plans and everyone in chat went all "THAT'S SUCH A GOOD IDEA" "PLSSS" "OKAYYYY", and all those comments gave childe the confidence he needed. • childe gave you a "i hope you're okay y/n, come back soon!! <3" and turned off his phone, now it was time for his plan. • the first thing he was going to do was find the player who kept on spawn killing you, then he's going to repeatedly kill this player until they either 1. get mad and leave, 2. confront childe and so then childe could cuss them and literally roast the shit out of them or 3. they leave. • as soon as childe finds the player he quickly starts to do what he intended to do, kill that person forever and ever until they leave/rage quit. • the player finds childe and tries to shoot his shot with him but obvi fails, childe laughs at his stupidity and just goes on to kill him, and then another kill, another kill, and so much more. • the player eventually quits and sends childe a quick "fuck you." before leaving. • honestly, child was going to do much more but he just left it as it is. he also reported the player's account, and told his fans that if they also played valorant to report that account to(and they did.) • after that was done, childe felt very proud of himself and his fans could tell. • childe immediately went to text you and told you that the player left and that you could join again - you, was happy!! i mean, who wouldn't be? the person who was annoying you finally left the game and you could finally play the game with childe peacefully. • you responded with a "okay!! i'll be there in a minute, love u" :) • and as soon as childe read the "love u" he could feel himself become jelly. • soon, you join and both you and childe enjoy your game together <3

streamer! xiao x online friend! reader • xiao LOVESS to play arsenal with you, like sm. he finds ur little rages kinda cute.. • so one day, you and xiao decide to play arsenal privately, meaning that you guys could play together and no fan or viewer would have to watch you guys place(basically not streaming it) • it was all going fine until this person kept on killing you over and over again, like what was their problem?? • anyways, you was getting both mad and sad - this person kept on killing you over and over again for no apparent reason and they wouldn't go for anyone else, just you in particular. • xiao notices everything, the way your face changed every time they killed, the way your eyebrows scrunch up and your body language over all. • xiao questions you and you say that "someone is killing me repeatedly, and i dont know why!!" and by the tone of your voice, it was serious. • this was meant to be a relaxing and fun game, yet some person had to ruin it, xiao made it his mission to eliminate this player and make you happy <3 • xiao told you to get off arsenal and just rest for a bit, you refused ofc - you didnt want xiao to do any work for you. but xiao insisted and told you that he would protect your character while killing this person. • you reluctantly agree and xiao gave you a small smile - a reassuring one. • you sigh, and grab your phone - scrolling through your messages and on tiktok, xiao on the other hand made his way to your character and stayed by your side - first he had to hide as he knew that his person was only targeting you and only you so that made his job easier. • when he spots a player moving closer to you and was about to do a sneak attack, xiao immediately got out from his hiding place and sot the player, killing them. • xiao was v proud of himself, he wished you was there to watch him but he wanted to keep his doing a secret. • he kept on killing the player until they gave up and said in chat "bruh just stop.", when xiao read the message he was MAD MAD, how could THEY say something like that when they were the one who kept on killing you over and over again?? • "weren't u the one doing that to my friend first??" it pained him to mention you as his "friend" but he had to. • xiao guessed the player raged quit bc after that message the person left. • xiao looked at his kill streak, 120. not bad.. xiao sighed as he called out your name, "y/nnnn?? still here?" "huh? oh! xiao, how was the game??" • "it was alright, the person who was bothering you left, you can come back and play - btw, your character isn't damaged :)" • XIAO'S SO SWEET KEEP HIM FOREVER. • you and xiao went back on to play the game <3 and if anyone did ever do that to you then xiao's always going to be prepared.

streamer! kaeya x online friend! reader • kaeya is good at observing things, so when he notices how you kept on sighing and kept on frowning made him guess that you was annoyed. • you two was just playing a game, where you kill your opponents and you have a team of 5, a 5v5 game. • it was going fine until a certain someone kept on aiming towards you, always targeting and killing you. • you was a skilled gamer, but this was your first time playing this game so you was still getting used to it. • kaeya was a pro at this game, he always practiced playing it and even gave you some tips!! • you pout and say to kaeya "hey kaeya.. im just going to be afk for a bit - this person keeps on killing me and it's getting annoying so im just going to rest for a bit kay??" kaeya is ofc saddened by this but says okay and lets you be • kaeya is trying to hold onto the fact that someone obviously only aiming/targeting you and tries to find out who this person is, eventually, somehow he manages to find out the person's user and everything about them. • he finds the player and starts to cuss at them, they were obviously taken back at this random person just cussing them out of nowhere, but before they could even respond, kaeya had already killed them, gaining 1+. • they got mad and their next target was kaeya. after a few rounds - they couldn't even get a single HIT on kaeya nor a single streak, but rather it was kaeya that was gaining all those points and killing streaks. • every time they failed, kaeya would just degrade and down them, while simultaneously laughing at them from time to time. • they, in the end give up and leave the game - kaeya was ecstatic about this!! because this means that you could come back and play with kaeya again <3 • after spilling out the news to you, you too was also happy!! you joined back and you two enjoyed the rest of the game. occasionally laughing at each other whenever you two failed to shoot someone or whenever someone has bad aim.

why can't u just date them alrdy?? a/n: if u enjoyed this pls go check out my other genshin hcs/like + follow + reblogs r appreciated!! note: sorry that kaeya's part is short, im feeling a bit tired today im sorry ;( enjoy this!!

legend of vox machina episode 7: scanbo OR it’s only comic relief until it stops being funny

I got so excited when I saw the title of this episode

all the reactors I've seen thought stonefell was anders on account of the weird cut/camera focus when percy was talking about them

yes your honor I would die for cassandra de rolo

she does sound moderately like a fable npc

mala: that was an assassination attempt

anders is built like a pear on a barbecue fork

like okay. he's not wrong about the baby de rolos being pampered b u t that's not THEIR fault. kids are never responsible for the situation they were born or brought into, only with what they do with it once they're old enough to develop agency. he's just lashing out at them bc they're easy targets. and papa de rolo is right, it's NOT his job, and if it's not an urgent "everything's gonna blow up if we don't do this" matter he shouldn't have kept pushing. also don't bitch about your students' parents in front of them, let alone directly TO them.

okay I'm done now we can continue

I did NOT see the nails holding keyleth's effigy's antlers in place until mica pointed it out and for the record: I hate it

"I assure you, I'm in control" press x to doubt

his hair is getting a lot fluffier/less coiffed as time goes on (good)

"if you turn that thing on any of us again, I will not hesitate, I will kill you"

imagine knowing what percy's guns can do, even if you don't know what they are, and seeing him use them brutally and mercilessly on two prone, helpless people in two days (never mind what they all knew stonefell was and what he did), and now he's leaking smoke and his eyes are black from corner to corner and he's pointing it at you. and if he'll point it at you, his teammate (you'd like to think friend), who won't he point it at? vex? keyleth? and the only way you know to stop him is to put him down.

there's gonna be a lot of meta/fic in these next few recaps and I refuse to apologize

this means he kept the de rolo crest buttons this whole time

I love how they visualized this. just this whole sequence with the hammers and the barrel clicking

how'd he get a forge tho

scanlan

mala pointed out this is how early scanlan deals with dark shit, is to make a joke out of it, but has no filter on when it's appropriate to say it out loud

pours one out for matthew mccoughnatree

this is a really nice sequence tho

when keyleth's ambition outstrips her control

"who's the sixth barrel for?" props to whoever it was caught percy's shadow

I wasn't sure ale would put out a fire instead of dousing it but it probably has a pretty low alcohol content compared to like vodka

it's like dousing a fire with natty light

vax actively countering vex instead of just sniping at her

"this is bigger than all your personal shite" I mean yes but I would like more of the personal shite

s c a n l a n

like he has one job and that's fucking with everyone but. scanlan.

can archie like. wipe his face. it wasn't bothering me until mala pointed it out.

venkman

"let. me. be. ANNOYING." huge tiktok audio potential

me: oh no is this a musical episode mala: it was threatened

this was INTENSELY unneccesary

CrItIcAl RoLe WaS nEvEr ThIs CrAsS

D&D GUARDS

I'm sorry, they're clearly playing bunions and flagons

blink? I assume?

"how would this ever help?" idk if you needed to get inside a dragon

nut check WITH the gauntlet

I remember the fire breath being much more controlled in the stream, I am probably remembering wrong.

scanlan: literally a thirteen year old

yes. YES. the triceratops is LOOSE.

doors: the only thing to stop a charging triceratops

"who let that sex-crazed gnome do this solo?" "uh...you?" "never listen to me again."

"excellent plan, vox machina" "I mean that is what we're known for" rank lies

"I was dead yesterday, remember? can only improve from here."

tbf the DOOR wasn't trapped. just the everything else.

I just love how bigby's scanlan's hand has been used in the show, much more versatile than I remember it being in the stream

(or it was just so ubiquitious in the stream I stopped appreciating it properly)

you have activated GrogRage™

"oh man, they are fucked now"

mala pointed out vex and keyleth still work together in battle, regardless of their personal squabbles. they can hate each other later when they're still alive.

(also probably helps that keyleth actually has no beef with vex, and is likely absolutely bewildered at the way vex has been treating her lately)

COCK LIGHTNING

no! double-tap! confirm the kill!

"good show, scanlan."

I legitimately loved vax running in ahead to find anders (and percy beating the shit out of him for it later) but this does make more narrative sense

"let her go and we can discuss a future where you're still breathing."

hey show what the fuck

hey show what the Fuck

Unfinished Business: Part 2

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Mentions of past abuse, Blood, Fighting, Swearing, etc. 

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Reader

+ random character/group I made up (Romboldi & The Black Hats)

Word Count: 3,548

Summary: Y/n’s secret gets out and the gang scrambles to put an end to the Black Hats. But one thing is for certain, nothing is more terrifying than when the hunter becomes the hunted.

Requested by: @msbzowy​ 

Part 1 | Part 2 

Y/n took a deep breath before walking into the meeting room with Tommy, her hand slightly clamming up in his. Despite their love for her, she couldn’t shake the thoughts from her head about them possibly hating her.

Walking through the mahogany doors, the frenzied conversations stopped, as all eyes landed on Y/n.

Polly gasped and she immediately walked over to her, enveloping her in a huge hug. Ada followed, complimenting her new look as she made her way to her.

“What the fuck y/n you’re supposed to be ruling New York by now!” Arthur said rather loudly, coming over and pulling her into a rough embrace.

“Nice to see you too Arthur.” She said chuckling as she made her rounds around the room.

John handed her a shot and gave her a hug, with Finn and Michael joining in shortly after. She knocked the shot back and made her way over to a pregnant Esme and scowling Linda.

“Nice to see you both! Gosh I’ve missed you!” She said gently hugging Esme and awkwardly hugging Linda. She never did like her too much as Y/n noticed early on in their relationship.

After exchanging pleasantries she waltzed back over to Tommy, taking a seat by him and lacing their hands together. Polly smirked, her eyebrow raised at he interaction.

“So tell me y/n...how is New York?” She asked, taking a sip of her tea.

“Oh it’s...well it’s New York. Crowded, loud, cars everywhere. But there’s sky-high buildings that are being built, it’s amazing to see. She said taking her hand from Tommy’s and placing it in her lap.

“Do you like it more than Small Heath?” She asked.

“God no. I grew up here Poll. This is home.” She said, leaning back in the chair.

“Oi! Y/n, not to be so forward but what the hell are you back in this shit hole for?” He asked, handing her a glass full of whiskey. She smiled and took a sip, looking at Tommy.

“Is it alright if I tell them?” She asked, knowing Tommy usually handled the tough conversations.

“Go ahead love.” He said. Her heart jumped at the nickname, it’s been so long since she’d heard it.

Taking a swig of whiskey, she stood up and walked towards the head of the table slowly.

“So, I know last time we parted ways a bit harshly. But all past feelings aside, I actually came here on business...and it involves everyone here...” She said looking down at her drink in her hand.

“That doesn’t sound good. What kind?” Michael asked.

“Uh, Mafia business. Mr. Romboldi....of the Black Hats.” She said taking another sip of her drink.

“God them fuckers again? How the hell did ya get involved with those rats? He already blew our shit up last time!” Arthur said, his brows furrowing.

She looked nervously at Thomas, and he just quickly nodded for her to continue, all emotion leaving his face.

“Well, you all know how I can’t just sit around, so I went job searching when I got there. Not long after, I noticed how dangerous it was being there on my own. I was almost attacked a couple times...” She said brushing a stray hair out of her face. Gently steering the conversation away from that subject.

“Anyways...I needed protection, and plus, I had skills that other jobs didn’t need so I went to the source of why I left. I decided I’d work for the Black Hats but not to betray anyone, just to get money coming in, get some protection, and maybe some information over time. They don’t know I’m actually Y/n Y/l/n. I’ve been working undercover. I’ve been using an alias, faking an accent, and using fake papers to get my bearings in the gang. And I’m now their contract killer.” She said knocking back the last of the drink. She let the first half of the news sink in, walking towards Tommy, placing a hand on the back of his chair.

“Holy shit. Really?” John asked.

“Yeah. I’ve killed people all over the country to earn that spot. I’m not proud of how I got it, but I had to do what I had to do.” She said looking away, out the window at the people milling about.

“Oi! Bet they gave ya a nickname like one of them spies aye?” Arthur asked jokingly.

Y/n chuckled and nodded her head.

“It’s dumb but I liked it at the time. They called me Quick Shot.” She said chuckling.

“I got it on a mission when I was sniping for his men one night. The people that were on the list came up and I took them out quick, no one really knew where the shots came from but I was gone before they could find out.” She said.

“Damn.” John mumbled.

“But you’re back here though dear...why? Why does this involve us?” She asked concerned. Polly could always steer the conversations back to the problems at hand. Often times she had the most sense of the group.

Y/n walked away from Tommy and over to the whiskey and poured another glass as she spoke.

“As we all know, the last deal went sour to say the least, so he wants something else. He told me he wants Tommy’s gin. He wants to distribute it in America, and to get stocks and shit. So...he sent me here to persuade Tommy to pay full price for them running it back. He won’t be lowballed again. Over my two years there, I’ve unfortunately gotten to know how he works, and if he comes after one person he comes after the rest just the same. If Tommy refuses, he will most likely kill me and him, as well as anyone in relation to the Peaky Blinders.” She said sternly.

“My god...” Polly said, sipping her tea as she looked at Tommy. His face still the same. But y/n could practically see the gears turning in his head again, another plan in the works.

“So they don’t know you have history with us?” Ada asked.

“No. And if they find out, you might as well kiss me goodbye. They may be stupid but they can sense someone who’s faking. I honestly don’t know how I’ve made it this long if I’m honest.” She said sitting back by Tommy, sighing and rubbing her temple. The drinks going to her head slightly.

Tommy shuffled in his seat and got up, standing behind her chair, speaking sternly.

“I’ve made a plan. It must be followed exactly as I say. No exceptions.” He said, Ada rolled her eyes bracing herself for whatever wild plan was about to spew from his mouth.

“Y/n is going to call Mr. Romboldi from a pay phone to tell him I accept the offer. When they get here in a weeks time, we’re going to meet them in Charlie’s yard. I’m going to order crates to be shipped there with my fucking gin, and you all will stand by while I negotiate. To help Y/n stay out of their grasp, we’re going to place her on sniper duty. If they ask about her, don’t tell them anything, act like you’ve never met her.” He said.

“And what if word gets out? You know it travels around here.” Linda said.

“Then you’ll just have to keep your trap shut so it doesn’t. Not until this business is dealt with. I’m sure you can manage.” Y/n said annoyed. Linda glared at her. She was always a chatty one.

Tommy smirked, and looked down at his watch.

“Y/n?” Tommy asked.

“Yes?” She said looking at him, her eyes boring into his.

“You’re going to go to the pay phone tomorrow like we discussed, but try to keep it simple. I don’t want him asking too many questions.” He said.

“Alright. What time?”

“Noon”. He said, walking over and pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

“Okay.” She said, before making conversation with Ada and Arthur. Her laugh filling the room as she joked around just like old times.

Meanwhile, Tommy looked out the window, the plans rolling around in his head amongst the scraping of the tunnels that plagued his mind every day. A mix of dread and happiness filling his bones. As much as he was happy to see y/n back, he couldn’t stand people being out to get her and his family. And he couldn’t bear losing her again, especially to those men. He hated that they forced her to do certain things and now that she was back home, he wasn’t going to let that happen again. He knocked back his shot, the liquid streaming down his throat attempting to numb the pain he felt as he processed what happened over the last 2 hours. Just 2 hours ago he was coming back from a meeting with Johnny Dogs. Just 2 hours ago he was out taking care of things around the shops. Just 2 hours ago his life was half empty. The only things in it at the time were his family and the sounds of shovels scraping through the tunnels, consuming his mind. But then as if a prayer was answered by some god he didn’t believe in, there she was at his doorstep. And he was determined this time to not repeat the past.

“You okay?” Y/n asked, walking over to him. Her red heels clicking along the wooden floors. He sighed and turned around to face her, his tired eyes meeting hers as he felt himself relax a bit at her presence.

“How about we get out of here?” Tommy asked, taking her hand in his.

“Are we going to your place?” She asked. He nodded and she smirked, seeing his lips turn up in a slight smile.

“Everyone be ready by noon tomorrow. I’m heading home.” He said, taking y/n’s hand and pulling her out with him. Everyone sat there for a moment and Polly smirked.

“Are they seeing each other again? After what he did?” Ada asked her.

“I’m sure of it. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder and I think that’s true for them. He never wanted her to go Ada. He told me after she left that he regretted it but I told him whats done is done. But you know him....he’s never been one to let things go.” She said taking a drag from her cigarette.

“Who would’ve known Tommy Shelby had a heart.” She said chuckling.

The rest of them laughed as they went about their business. All of them wary about what the next week would hold.

Meanwhile, back at Tommy’s estate, he gave Y/n a quick tour around, before leading her up to his bedroom.

Her eyes widening at the huge room and lavish king bed.

“Wow. You really went all out here aye?” She said smiling, running her hands along the cotton sheets. He caught her hand, and took it, turning her around so she was facing him. He smiled slightly as he brought his lips to hers. She kissed back, dragging both of them onto the plush mattress, feverish kisses being placed on her neck by the one she thought she’d never see again. They continued their escapades, their worries for tomorrow quickly slipping away as the daylight faded around them.

The next morning Y/n awoke to the sound of Tommy’s light snores, feeling his arms wrapped around her in a protective embrace. She wondered how long it had been since he’s slept decently, knowing all too well how his thoughts kept him up at night.

She let him sleep though, quietly getting up to wrap her bare body in one of Tommy’s robes as she made her way to the master bathroom. She went in and cleaned up, slowly coming to as the hot water dropped over her skin. When she got out she dug through her suit case to find a black dress and light sweater and decided that would work for the day’s activities. She quickly tensed though at the thought of conversing with Mr. Romboldi in an hours time.

As she put her last bit of makeup on, she heard Thomas get up and walk to towards the bathroom.

“Good morning love.” He said, kissing her cheek. She smiled and touched it, still in disbelief that she was here with him. She hated that’s she was bitter before, but now she’s grated to be there.

“Morning. How’d you sleep?” Y/n asked.

“Better. Better than I have in 2 years.” He said. She smiled and turned to hug his bare form. He had a genuine smile on his face as he placed a kiss on her forehead.

“Tommy Shelby, I never knew such a smile existed.” She said. He chuckled as he stepped away preparing the bath.

“Are you going to go call him?” He said glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Yes. I’ll go to the shop as soon as it’s done and report what I hear.” She said gathering her things.

“Alright. If you need help call me. I love you.” He said.

“Love you too.” She said before heading into his room and out into the luxurious hallway. She took a deep breath as she got in one of the cars and drove to the payphone in town. She put the coins in the slot, waiting for the operator to answer.

The phone crackled as she held the metal device up to her ear. “Hello how may I help you today?” The operator asked.

“Hi. I’d like to place a call to 5023. New York.” She said. Then waited for the dreaded rough voice of the man who took her in, yet whore’d her out to his enemies.

“I was expecting to hear from you dear. How is that shit hole treating ya?” He asked.

“Fine. Nothing beats New York, sir.” She said in her fake accent.

“Did you accomplish what I sent you there for?” He asked.

“Yes. He will pay the full price for our services. You are to meet him at the place you went last time. I think he called it Charlie’s yard?” She asked, acting like she didn’t know where it was.

“Yes, I’ll never forget that dump. Tell him we’ll be there Monday. I’m boarding the ship in an hour. We’ll meet them at noon. Good job miss Anderson.” He said.

“Alright, I’ll pass that along to him. Thank you Mr. Romboldi.” She said.

“You’ll be back here in no time, don’t worry. We can’t afford to loose our best shooter to a grimy razor gang, plus, I have some new men who’d love to meet you.” He said, an evil tone lacing his voice towards the end as he egged on the conversation.

“Goodbye. See you when I get back.” She said hanging up. Not waiting for a reply. She took a deep breath and shook the thought of giving herself to more random men out of her head and got back in the car, looking out at the busy streets as she neared the shop.

She immediately went in and said hi to Ada and Polly who smirked at her, knowing full well she stayed the night with Tommy.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Polly asked.

“Just reporting to Tommy, is he here?” She asked glancing around.

“Not yet, but you can wait around here. I want all the details.” She said smirking.

Y/n smirked and sat down in a chair near Ada.

“Yes we fucked, what more do you want me to say?” She said taking a cigarette out of her pocket, Polly reaching out to light it.

Ada smirked “Well are you all dating or not? He hasn’t been with anyone since ya left for gods sake!” She said excitedly. Y/n’s eyes widened a bit in shock. Thomas Shelby not fucking around was something she’d never thought she’d hear.

“Well we definitely made up for lost time, but I don’t know if I’d call it dating. Hell, I just came back yesterday but I felt like I’ve never left. What do I make of that?” She asked.

“I think you should ask him. I’m sure he’s already said he loves ya. I can see it between you two.” Polly said. Y/n smiled remembering earlier at his house.

“Alright, I will.” Y/n said, watching the door, waiting for him to burst through.

Not 5 minutes later he did, walking straight into his office, his face expressionless as usual.

“Guess that’s my cue.” Y/n said sighing and reluctantly getting up.

“Good luck my dear.” Polly said before turning back to her work.

Y/n walked to the closed door before her and knocked three times, just as she did all those years ago.

“Come in.” Tommy said, his desk strewn with papers.

Tommy glanced up from his papers and motioned for her to shut the door. He quickly shuffled some of the papers away and sat up, his eyes on her as she took a seat in the leather chair.

“How did it go?” He asked taking a cigarette out of his metal case. Rubbing it on his lips before lighting it.

“Okay...I told him you’d accepted his offer and that you’d meet at Charlie’s yard on Monday at noon.” She said looking away from him.

He studied her movements, the way she fiddled with her hands, her eyes avoiding him, her brow furrowed with worry.

“What else did he say y/n?” He asked quietly.

She looked down as she spoke, tears threatening to fall.

“He said that I’d be back in no time. Meaning he probably wants me back any day now. He doesn’t know I’d be there with you all so I could just stay here as planned, but I don’t want them to find out I’m here. He said he had new men who’d love to meet me.” She said with a disgusted look on her face.

Tommy sighed and took a drag of his cigarette.

“I’m not letting them take you back, y/n. You don’t have to worry about that.” He said looking into her eyes.

“Well once his men find out I’m not back, he’s going to get word of it.” She said quickly wiping a stray tear from her face.

“If they do, we’ll just have to kill them then.” He said.

“What about the men back there? I’m not whoring myself out. I’m not doing that again. He’s a sick man.” She said as more tears fell. She hated doing things for her boss but it was a comply or be killed type of situation back then.

“You won’t have to do that anymore. You’re a blinder do you understand?” He said getting up and walking over to her. She got up and he pulled her into a hug, her cries muffling as she rested her head on his chest.

“I won’t let them hurt you. You’re safe here. Do you hear me? You won’t have to do that, I’m not ever sending you away again.” He said.

Once she calmed down, she looked up at him, his ocean eyes staring back at her.

“I love you...y/n I really do.” He said.

Y/n nodded and smiled. “I love you too.”

Later that night she got home late after joining the gang at the Garrison. Tommy was in the bathroom taking a shower while she was getting undressed and putting on a nightgown. She only had a finite amount of clothes, so luckily she was able to find the time to shop earlier during the day.

“I thought you’d be sleeping y/n.” He said as y/n sat up in bed reading one of Tommy’s books.

“I can’t, I have something on my mind.” She said, turning the pages.

“What is it?” He asked, getting in bed beside her. Kissing her shoulder as he watched her skim the book.

“Polly and Ada asked about us today. And Ada asked if we were together again...” she said, her heart racing as she spoke.

“Do you want to be together?” He asked. She took a moment to think, mad that she was so bitter before, but she decided to let those feelings go to make way for new ones. New beginnings perhaps.

“Yeah, I’d like to. Only if you promise to not boot me out again.” She said looking at him.

“Then we’re together then. And I’ve told you before love, I’m never making that mistake again.” He said kissing her shoulder before lying down. She smiled and closed the book, lying down and cuddling into his side for the night.

Over the next few days, they grew in their trust and in their relationship more. And when they weren’t dealing with the matters at hand, they decided to tell the family, which wasn’t much as they all expected it.

Y/n looked around the room at all of them, finally feeling okay with herself and with who was in her life, and by her side. But she couldn’t shake the nerves of her past, as she still had to deal with them when they got there.

Monday came around rather quickly though, much to everyone’s dismay. Her stomach lurched as she got a phone call at her new desk at the shop.

“Shelby Company Limited.” She said nicely.

“Tell y/n y/l/n we have a surprise for her. Courtesy of Mr. Romboldi.” He said and then hung up.

Her stomach lurched again, but in fear. She got up quickly, her face paling as she steadied herself at her desk, walking with shaking hands to Tommy’s office. It was an hour before noon. An hour before she had to get to her position.

She barged in frantically not caring that Tommy was in the middle of discussing the plans for today with Arthur and the boys.

“Hello y/n. What is it?” He said putting his cigarette out and sitting back in his chair with an annoyed look on his face.

“T-they know. Thomas they know my name. They know I’m here.” She said fear dancing wildly in her eyes.

Within seconds the boys grabbed their weapons and their caps and headed out the door to Charlie’s yard. Thomas on the other hand stayed behind.

“What happened y/n?” He asked gathering his things.

“I um, I got a call a few minutes ago. And he said tell y/n y/l/n we have a surprise for her. Courtesy of Mr. Romboldi.” She said her hands shaking.

Thomas paced around while checking the rounds in his gun. He pulled out a sniper rifle and loaded it as y/n stood there.

He quickly shoved the gun into y/n’s hands and stared at her.

“Y/n. Hey. Listen to me. I’m not letting him get you. I’m taking you to the rooftop overlooking Charlie’s yard ok? They won’t notice you. You’re going to go there and stay there unless we need you on the ground ok? Just take care of the men around us.” He said.

“Okay...” she said and followed him out to the car. He stepped on the gas, booking it there. It was easier for her to keep calm when she was hunting down other people, but it was terrifying knowing she’s become one of the hunted.

As they sped down the dirt covered streets they parked outside of an abandoned 3 story building. He quickly looked around and led her up to the roof to where she could see clearly. The wind nipping at her neck slightly as she adjusted her position and steadied her breathing. She could see John and Arthur standing guard below holding two suitcases and Michael, Finn, and Isiah on the opposite side waiting. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tommy walk out into the middle of the area, checking his watch. As if on cue, a black dingy car pulled up as 5 men climbed out including Mr. Romboldi. They each had either a handgun or machine gun with them, along with a lone black suitcase.

She saw as Mr. Romboldi came near Tommy, sitting the briefcase on an old wooden table and opening it, revealing what looked to be a lot of money inside.

“I’m not here to take your money Mr. Romboldi, I’m here to give you your gin and your payment for your troubles.” He said as Arthur and John brought over the suitcases.

Mr. Romboldi smirked and lit a cigar. The smoke rising into the air.

“It’s not for you Mr. Shelby. It’s for y/n y/l/n.” He said.

“That name doesn’t sound familiar.” Tommy said, lighting a cigarette as he stared blankly.

“Are you sure? It sounds an awful lot like someone who we have workin’ for us by the same first name. You thought you could fool us y/n?” He said, loudly yelling the last part and looking around the rooftops.

Y/n quickly ducked down before he could look over towards the building she was perched on. Steadying her breathing as she waited.

Mr. Romboldi continued to ramble on.

“We know she’s here because she hasn’t came back to our headquarters, and my men are very fond of her. They’d know when a pretty girl like that goes missing.” He said. Still loud enough that she could hear.

Tommy blankly stared as he shook his head again, denying he knew her.

“Look, the only way we found out for sure was because one of them, a certain man she was seein’ mentioned her not visiting him. He was ya know...scheduled to see her one night this past week if you know what I mean...” He said chuckling.

“And he brought it up to my men and they contacted me while I was on that shitty boat. Now....I know we have a deal, and I’m accepting your payment this time, but I also have a deal of my own ya hear?” He said.

“I hear you. What’s the deal?” Tommy asked.

“You give me the money and the gin, and I pay you for y/n. She’s the best I’ve got in more ways than one despite her foolin’ us and I know she’s here. We researched into her little background and couldn’t find nothin’ on a fuckin’ Y/n Anderson.” He said taking another puff of his cigar.

“That’s unfortunate.” He said, growing tired of him talking. He motioned for Arthur and John to go as he sat up a bit.

“You ain’t leavin’ not with out giving me my girl.” He said. Her stomach turned over how he talked about her. Like she was some piece of meat ready for the wolves.

Tommy smirked and leaned in closer to him, one of Mr. Romboldis men pointing a gun at Tommy and walking near him until the barrel touched his temple.

He paid the gun little mind and continued.

“If she’s your girl...then why was she in my bed then aye?” He said, as he watched the older mans face grow red with anger.

“You bastard! I knew it. You can come on out y/n we have a ship to fuckin' catch.” He said yelling.

“I know for a fact that she wouldn’t want be with you. You’re just in a filthy razor gang!” He said. Tommy attempted to get up but not before the man clicked the gun a bit causing him to stop.

John and Arthur raised theirs as the other men stood guarding their boss, not getting a chance to reach for their guns. Arthur started beating one of them while John threw some punches and disarmed the other.

Y/n slowly raised her head up a little, just enough that she could get a clear shot.

Mr. Romboldi got up and took all the suitcases and walked to the car as Tommy tried to grab the mans arm to disarm him. He shot the gun, the bullet flying through the air at a random spot, hitting a building nearby.

Y/n aimed for the guys who were getting too rough with John and Arthur and quickly shot two bullets, each of them striking them in the head.

It gradually got more quiet as two of the 5 were dead. But Tommy still struggled with the man who held him at gunpoint taking a slew of punches to the face and chest. Michael, Finn, and Isiah fought the other two, giving her just enough time to find an opening to kill one of the men. She shot striking the man going after Finn, hitting him in the chest. The other guy soon ran over to Tommy, attempting to help the other man attack him. Tommy pinned one down laying punches on his face as blood sprayed up onto his dress shirt.

Y/n didn’t hesitate though, instead she shot the man who was about to attack him from behind.

As she took a moment to get her bearings, she saw Mr. Romboldi grab a machine gun out of his car, aiming right for Tommy who was slowly getting up after beating the guy to death. He unfortunately didn’t notice her boss aiming at him.

Before Tommy could pull out his own gun, he saw a shot hit the guys head. The once ruthless, balding, red-faced mafia leader from New York lying lifeless on the cold pavement as he bled out.

Tommy looked up and saw y/n. The smoke from the rifle still floating off the gun and into the air. He had never been so happy to be staring at the barrel of a gun, or more so the person behind it.

Without thinking, y/n got up and ran down the stairs and into the open area and ran straight to Tommy, not caring about the blood and dirt caking her shoes as she did so. He welcomed her with a warm embrace, as she looked up and examined his face, he was bleeding from his temple and his lip, but other than that he seemed fine. Despite his injured lip, she kissed him for a moment before he stopped her and looked down at her.

“Thank you, y/n.” He said.

She just nodded and embraced him again. Happy that she had the man that she loved back in her arms, and a job she loved to go to everyday. As crazy as it was, she wouldn’t trade this life for the world, no matter the cost.

Ambiguous

Vykan was awoken by a stubborn beam of sunlight streaming across his face. He squinted, kneading at his eyes with the heels of his palms. God, his head hurt. He rolled on his side, nuzzling into the pillows as his legs twisted up in the folds of a downy comforter.

Wait.

Multiple pillows?

Large comfortable mattress?

Sunlight?

Struggling into an upright position, Vykan looked around the room. There was a desk in one corner absolutely covered in books and pieces of paper. Someone was designing blueprints but to what, he couldn't tell. There were a few pictures on the wall but his vision was too blurry and unfocused to make them out. On either sides of the bed were little nightstands. The one beside Vykan had a cell phone and a tablet. The other had a large slim case and an analog clock. It was a decently decorated room, not too fancy, but definitely well lived in. Where the hell was he?

Vykan sniffed at the air. The scent of something delicious was wafting through a gap in the door. He threw his legs over the bed and followed his nose.

A short hallway took him past another bedroom and a bathroom into a quaint little living room connected to a kitchen. There was a central island with barstools, a comfortable looking L-shaped couch, a coffee table covered in paperwork and knick knacks, and a balcony just off the humble little dining room. There, swaying and rocking within it all, was Jonah.

He looked good. Incredible even. He was bobbing along to some music playing quietly through a speaker system, dancing around with a frying pan in one hand. He sipped at a cup of coffee, sliding gracefully around on socked feet. When he looked up, meeting Vykan's eyes, his smile was blinding. There were a few more lines at the corners of his mouth and eyes and a sprinkling of grey hair at his temples.

He looked happy.

"Ooh, morning, babe," Jonah grinned around a laugh. "Should I disrobe too? We doin' sexy breakfast?"

Vykan barely registered that he was, in fact, naked and strolling around the-- apartment? Condo? House? He moved slowly, as if the very air was fragile.

"I'm making your favorite," Jonah continued. "But you gotta be patient or you get nothing."

"What is this?" Vykan finally spoke, his voice soft.

"Breakfast?" Jonah's face screwed up in confusion. "Steak? Eggs? Fruit salad? Maybe a mimosa or two, if you're good."

"Where are we? Whose dwelling is this?"

Jonah furrowed his brow, looking annoyed now. He set down the pan and turned down the heat. Crossing the room in a few quick strides, he pressed the back of his hand against Vykan's forehead.

"You don't have a fever," He muttered. "Maybe you're just more hungover than I expected. Figures. Thought I married some hot warrior babe and you can't even hold your fucking liquor."

"M-married?"

Jonah snorted. The affectionate and dreamy smile that crossed his face left Vykan's stomach doing backflips.

"Crazy, right? I can't wait for the pictures and video to process, gonna watch that shit on repeat every day for at least a month. We better send Rtas a nice gift bag, he was a fantastic officiate."

"Rtas?! Rtas 'Vadumee?!"

Jonah looked concerned now. He took Vykan by the arm and gingerly steered him to the dining room table. Two of the chairs were clearly human sized while the other two looked more fit for a Sangheili body. Vykan took the latter, trying not to flinch when two hands reached forward to cup his face.

"Are you ok?" Jonah asked, kind yet firm. "Did something happen last night? Did I say something to upset you? Please tell me what the fuck is going on, babe, I'm getting worried."

"... The last thing I... Remember was..." Vykan squeezed his eyes shut. Why were his memories so fuzzy? "We... Were on the UNSC Charon... Rebuilding after the Schism, trying to bridge the gap between humanity and Sangheili... We... You and I were..."

"Nightmares?" Jonah tutted, bumping his forehead against Vykan's. "PTSD'll do that to you, hon, fuck up your perception of time and memories. It'll pass. We'll take it easy, ok? I don't have a lot to do today, I'll tell the gang we'll do lunch another day."

When he broke away, Jonah was smiling but there was a touch of sadness in his eyes. He squeezed Vykan's shoulder before moving back into the kitchen.

"As sexy as it is, you should get dressed," Jonah teased, kicking the heat back up on the stovetop. Warmth slowly leeched back into his voice. "At least some pants or something."

Vykan shuffled back into the bedroom; their bedroom it seemed. Now that he was more awake, he could make out the framed pictures more easily. He recognized Melissa, Pike, and Rod grinning ear-to-ear, arms interlocked. Jonah stood shoulder to shoulder with Master Chief in the next. They were both in full armor. Vykan felt his breath punch right out of his lungs. There he was beside Rtas and Thel. They looked rather serious, as Elites were want to do, but seeing two old friends by his side soothed an ache in his heart. The Arbiter's armor suited Thel and Rtas looked as proud as ever.

Vykan wasn't sure if he was recognizing things now or if something in his brain was making accurate assumptions. The case on Jonah's side of the bed was for his prosthetic. The tablet was Vykan's, no doubt packed with footnotes and journal entries. He picked up a little soft plush animal from the floor. Jonah had won this for him at a carnival, using his incredible sniping skills to a rather unfair advantage.

Ok, so that was a proper memory. But was it real? Was any of this?

"Vy! Breakfast!"

Vykan lurched towards the closet. Wow. Everything was so well organized. The flat was homey for sure but everything was rather clean. Two military men would undoubtedly uphold a pristine living condition. Vykan tugged on a nice dark colored bodysuit, one with a high neck and short sleeves that cut off mid-bicep. He shuffled back down the hall and into the dining room, trying not to act embarrassed when Jonah whistled.

"I've always thought green looked good on you," Jonah smirked, playfully swatting at his ass when he walked by. "Sit, get some food in you, it'll help."

Vykan did as he was told. The steak was perfectly cooked, still pretty rare in the middle. The eggs were gooey but not liquid. The fruits were tart and plump and juicy. He was amazed how little bits and pieces of the flat were adapted to his alien physique. First the large bed, then the chairs, now a slim long-necked bottle for him to drink out of; it all felt so natural, so easy.

Jonah watched him as he ate, taking his time. He chugged two mimosas before he even touched his eggs. When Vykan finished eating, Jonah reached over and intertwined their fingers.

"Last night was... Incredible," He breathed, his high cheeks dusted a rosey red. "I had a lot of fun. I think everyone did but... Just you and me was... Amazing."

Vykan watched his face, trying to will the memories to come back. Dinner, drinks, a nightclub; they were all fuzzy and danced behind his eyes. A birthday? No, something else. Something more important.

"I know this's been a pretty... Unconventional honeymoon," Jonah chuckled, offering the Sangheili a lopsided grin. "But I wouldn't trade it for the world."

Vykan looked down at their hands, joined together on top of the table. On one of Jonah's fingers was a ring. There was a little black diamond inlaid in the simple band. Vykan wasn't sure how but he knew the inscription inside was written in his mother tongue. He lifted his own right hand and set it atop Jonah's. He had a ring too, a basic titanium band with a series of dots engraved around the center. He knew it was a code of some sort but he couldn't quite make it out.

"This must be a dream," Vykan breathed. "This. This cannot be real, I must. I must be dreaming."

Jonah rose from his seat and leaned across the table. He pressed a soft open-mouthed kiss against Vykan's mandibles. He smelled like smoke and citrus and aftershave and iron. Every kiss set Vykan's blood on fire, leaving his heart to skip and stammer in his chest.

"Then it's a good dream." Jonah replied.

Comfort Zone Pt. 1

A Shigaraki & Toga fic! Because the League becoming friends is just about my favorite thing ever. Also, it's running long, so I split it into two parts.

Rating: T and up

Relationships: Shigaraki Tomura & Toga Himiko, Dabi/Shigaraki Tomura (hints of)

Warnings: Swearing, anxiety attacks, disturbing thoughts, self-harm (in the form of Shigaraki’s scratching), mentions of blood

Even after shoving the door to the downstairs bathroom shut and locking it behind him, Tomura couldn’t convince his heart to stop slamming against his ribs like a caged animal.

How he’d let this happen—why he’d allowed it to—he couldn’t begin to piece together. He’d been so pissed when Dabi had intruded on his solitude at the bar. But then…then the bastard had started talking. Worse, he’d made sense. As if that hadn’t been enough, Dabi had given him a gift before leaning in close, so close, close enough to touch—touch!—his face, to tangle warm fingers in his hair, and shitshitfuckinghellwhatwashesupposedto—

Gasping for the air that had suddenly abandoned the room, Tomura sagged against the sink. No. The walls were not closing in on him. He wasn’t about to suffocate. His brain was just convinced that was the case because it was busy drowning in swells of adrenaline and anxiety. One hand flew up to his neck. The sting of his nails ripping open new furrows across old scratches caused his flailing thoughts to freeze. Seizing the opportunity, he groped for another lifeline.

“W-white counter. Lavender soap. Blue…fuck.” He gouged his nails deeper, countering anxiety’s own claws in his guts. “Blue. The fucking goddamn towel is blue. Like his—”

The resulting jolt of shock at what had nearly escaped his mouth knocked panic’s grip right off of him.

Tomura turned the sink faucet on and stuck his icy, quaking hands under the warm stream of water. The sensation of it flowing and sliding between all five of his fingers like nothing solid could helped ground him further. Cupping his palms, he caught enough to splash onto his face and scrub away the clammy sheen of stress sweat. Too late, he remembered the fresh coating of salve. Droplets raining down his cheeks and chin, Tomura lifted his head to confront his reflection.

Cracked and crinkled rice paper skin. Beauty mark like a droplet of ink to one side of his mouth. Vertical scar splitting the symmetry of his lips. White wisps of hair that Kurogiri had long since stopped suggesting he comb curling every which way. Eyes as round and rawly red as the healing exit wounds that shitheel Snipe had given him as parting gifts. Or the thin streams of blood trickling from his shredded neck, soaking into his shirt. The same list of features he’d had as long as he could remember—no more than fifteen years back before recollections slid into oblivion, admittedly, but long enough. Tomura squinted, studying each one, struggling to imagine what they might look like through eyes the bright blue of lightning.

Don’t expect me to share my chapstick, though. You’re on your own with that one, creep.

Tomura’s jaw tightened until his temples throbbed. Sensei had once had him take some standardized tests from the most prestigious schools in the country, just to show him how narrow society’s thinking could be. He’d aced every one…yet he’d walked right into Dabi’s little joke. The bastard had probably laughed all the way back to his room at Tomura’s gullibility. Even with half his skin barbequed, face full of staples and stitches like a campy horror movie character, he’d obviously been born a golden child, tall and beautiful and strong. Probably doted on by everyone around him until whatever little accident had tarnished his shine. Driven into the dark of the underworld, he still retained the same entitled attitude. Someone like Tomura—no pedigree, no social standing, and thus no need to kiss anyone’s ass—would be vermin to him.

Think of this another way. As a show of trust.

There. Better?

Here. Keep it. Should last awhile.

The righteous fire in Tomura’s chest dwindled and fizzled. A smaller but much more alarming warmth kindled along his cheekbones. Okay, fine. Dabi’s expression hadn’t belonged to a purebreed staring down his nose at a stray mongrel when he’d said those things, but so damn what? He’d smirked and teased and bulldozed right through every boundary he found.

Why, then, hadn’t Tomura erased his annoying existence from the world? Or at least beat some respect into him? Just because he’d been nice for two seconds? Tomura preferred to think he wasn’t so pathetic that he could be swayed by such an insignificant gesture.

People always show their real selves when they’re pissed.

The tang of copper coated his tongue as he chewed on his nails—his second favorite method to tear himself apart. What if…what if insults and arrogance were tactics? Ways for Dabi to gather intelligence and gain the upper hand? Tomura did much the same on the rare, awful occasions he had to interact in public, just in the opposite direction—he pretended to be a harmless drone of hero society like everyone else. In that light, Dabi’s intentions had been genuine even though his approach relied on deception.

Aloof characters who nevertheless gave their all for the party when it came down to it were always the most useful in games. Not to mention usually Tomura’s favorites.

Right. That concluded his thinking about the subject for the night. Or eternity.

Door opened a crack, Tomura peeked out into the hallway. Not a soul. He cocked his head, listening. Not a whisper or peep. Mindful of every creaky floorboard, he crept out. Slunk upstairs like a thief in his own base of operations. Hardly dared to breathe until he’d shut and locked the door to his room behind him.

Nerves still crawling beneath his skin, Tomura glanced over at the laptop sitting on the small desk against one wall. To the TV mounted on the other, framed by shelves of games to various consoles. He would’ve liked nothing more than to have a glowing screen absorb his attention, but he knew his focus was too scattered to play anything. Scanning the online news feeds would yield nothing but chatter about Stain or All Might—his fingers latched back onto his neck just thinking about it. He couldn’t wear himself out with training since that meant going back downstairs to use the mats and equipment in the basement. No fucking way was he setting foot in the bar for the next few days. Maybe not for years.

He knew he shouldn’t have let anyone stay here. Now he was trapped, a prisoner in his own goddamned room, all because he’d let an overcooked piece of human yakitori put his soft, stapled hands on him, and—

The rising swells of panic dropped and went utterly still as Tomura’s eyes darted to his closet. Of course. Such an obvious answer. He should’ve known what to do from the beginning.

Aah, you poor thing. What are you so afraid of? All you have to do is follow your heart.

As always, Sensei had provided for him.

Sliding one side of the closet open, Tomura picked up a long wooden box from its resting place beneath his neatly hung clothing. He gently set it in the middle of the room before retrieving a cloth from his desk. Sitting on his heels in front of the box, he wiped a few stray specks of dust from its lacquered surface. Though his memory of receiving it (not to mention its contents) remained lost somewhere in the murky haze of his childhood, the familiar action alone reassured him. Sensei had instructed him to care for it and he had, polishing it every week without fail for fifteen years.

Sleeves over the heels of his palms to prevent smudges, Tomura carefully lifted the lid.

The stench of formaldehyde sprang out immediately. It reached straight down his throat and clenched his guts with corrosive fingers. Despite the urge to vomit everything in his body cavity up, a mantle of calm settled over Tomura’s shoulders. As wretched, as vile, as stomach-wringing as they were, the sensations were familiar. They’d woven themselves into his makeup as tightly as his DNA. The same could be said for what lay inside the box.

Paler even than him against their nest of black coffin velvet, fourteen human hands lay in two neat rows. Well, thirteen—one was merely a replica, a replacement. The metal caps on the wrists gleamed sallow gold under the room’s light. Poised on the razor’s edge between sickened and serene, Tomura reached for them in the usual order.

First, the smallest ones, curled around his wrists. A larger pair with aged, wrinkled skin and knobby knuckles clamped to his biceps next. A similar but slimmer version of those followed on his forearms. The hands with the longest, loveliest fingers encircled his neck in fourth place. Two sets of brutish, blocky ones latched onto his shoulders, then his sides just beneath his arms.

Naturally, the best he saved for last.

Tomura fixed the replica to the back of his head almost absently. His attention was reserved for its partner: a left, the largest hand, the father of its macabre little family. He lifted it with the same care a collector would a preserved butterfly. With a fingertip he mapped out the valleys and ridges of bones and strong sinew along the back. Turning it over, he traced the lifeline etched across its palm that had most definitely lied. The way the scar cleaving his lips tingled and burned had nothing to do with the savage grin that split Tomura’s face. He rubbed his chin to be sure the feeling of blood drooling down it was only a phantom from his buried past.

He didn’t need to know its origins to realize how special Father was.

Revulsion and exhilaration surged up from his center as he pressed the precious memento mori over his face like a mask. His roiling emotions alchemized into something he had yet to name, its crystallized shape strange but stable. At last, the feel of cold, waxen flesh molded to his cheeks, of stiff, dead fingers in his hair, chased away the fantasy of hot, living ones. At last, he could think.

With a relieved sigh, Tomura replaced the box’s lid and stood. After feeling trapped, he needed the reassurance of space. He went to his room’s narrow window, pushed aside the curtains, disarmed the little tripwire surprise he’d rigged, and pushed the bottom pane up so he could slither out onto the fire escape.

The night air reeked of the refuse piled in the alley below. This definitely wasn’t high on his list of favored spots, but it was better than nothing. At least the temperature was being kind to his skin, not too warm or humid, not to cool or dry. The rusty skeleton of the fire escape squeaked as he settled himself on the mesh bottom, hugging his knees. Staring up at the void of the sky, a few stars visible through Father’s embalmed fingers, wasn’t so bad either. Everything he could see was warped, discarded, halfway down the path to total ruin. It almost made him feel at home.

A home with dynamics that had changed overnight. But…like it or not he had two new roommates—with more to come, according to Giran. Tomura didn’t have the kind of power to reduce hero society to rubble and ash on his own. Not yet. In the meantime, he had to make do with the next best thing: strength in numbers. It was just…he got so anxious. The concept of living with anyone aside from Kurogiri was bizarre, the thought of having to interact daily with strangers unsettling.

Yet even someone as powerful, as feared and dreaded as Sensei didn’t work alone. If his mentor hadn’t turned his nose up to cooperating with select people, who was Tomura to? He grimaced behind Father, but he could already feel resolve seeping between the seams in his thoughts. One way or another, he’d learn to tolerate his houseguests and how best to use their skills for the greater goal.

Maybe it was his years martial arts training that picked up on some subtle shift in the air. Déjà vu prickled along the back of Tomura’s neck. His head snapped toward the perceived threat on his right.

He caught a flash of a blonde-haired head just before it ducked back inside the next window over.

I’m Toga! Toga Himiko! It’s hard to live!

“Wait,” came from Tomura’s mouth before his conscious mind registered the action. “I’m sorry. About how I acted earlier.” The surprise of those words, in that order, coming from him fell flat compared to the shock of realizing he wasn’t lying.

002 orleans, 001 peyronan, lets GO

001 | Peyronan

when I started shipping it if I did: Funnily, it went under my radar for YEARS, because I. Did not care about Lazare at ALL. Did not even L I K E him. And the 1789 fandom, as a whole, was VERY anti-Ronan. You could not say ANYTHING positive about Ronan at that time. Then, during a stream of Zuka 1789 in June 2017 (THREE YEARS. WHAT THE FUCK? HOW HAVE THREE YEARS PAST?), I was like “Oh? O H? O    H  ?” and so It began. I started off with the idea of creating a contained series of drabbles, highlighting the two of them over the course of the musical. The idea was that it would essentially be PWP, disconnected, plotless, researchless, no feelings involved, no softening of Lazare, and would probably end at Ronan’s death. But, as I began working the concepts further, I realized that wouldn’t work, and within a few months of beginning the project, I started to call it “The Abomination”, due to it warping far, far out of my control. These days, a LOT of what I’ve written ties back to those original ideas for The Abomination, and a lot of the concepts used in Between the Waves started there (Printing Press being one of them.) 

my thoughts: THE BOIS. THE B O I S. My favorite totally canon ship. The two of them really do balance one another out really well, they’re the classic fire and ice combo (though, underneath Lazare’s ice, there’s fire, and underneath Ronan’s fire, there’s ice.) Ronan’s character arc begins and ends with Lazare, and there’s SOMETHING about him going to Paris with this idea of “Okay, I’m going to kill the Comte, take back my lands, and dance on the ashes of the old world” and then meeting Lazare and being like “...okay, new plan: Save this fucking disaster from himself”. There’s something about his arc going from hatred to love. And could this be done with Olympe as well? Yes, it could be. But, for me, I like the full circle happening with Lazare, since he did start this. Both of them have a Hell of a lot to learn from one another, there’s going to be a lot of grappling when it comes to establishing equality, a lot of sniping back and forth, but I also do think, legitimately, they could make one another happy. (And, Hell, even if they didn’t, that doesn’t mean it can’t be a fun ride.) 

What makes me happy about them: The general idea that the Comte de Peyrol, a cold-hearted, professional guard dog who probably never really even THOUGHT of love as something he could have, could melt for this revolutionary, no matter HOW slightly, enough to risk everything for a relationship. That, despite everything else, Ronan could love him back. That, even if only for a few months, they got to be HAPPY with one another. 

What makes me sad about them: The ending. The things that were left unresolved. It’s doubly sad in, say, the PLP universe, where Lazare really DID love Ronan with his entire heart, but Ronan really died without KNOWING the extent that Lazare was invested. And that Lazare will have to live the rest of his life, HOWEVER long that will be, thinking of how he destroyed the one person who ever gave a damn about him outside of what he could do for them. 

things done in fanfic that annoys me: Given that the fandom mainly consists of me + the various friends I’ve kidnapped into the fandom, there really ISN’T all that much? Like, I feel like the 1789 fandom, as a whole, is a fairly chill space (knock on wood.)

things I look for in fanfic: Existing is a lovely start. 

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: I don’t MIND Camille/Ronan, Ronan/Olympe, or Olympe/Lazare. They aren’t FAVORITES in the same way, but I would probably read fanfic for it. And I have read fanfic for Ronan/Robespierre as well. 

My happily ever after for them: Lazare chooses to leave the Army after realizing that it’s destroying him, the two of them escape the worst of the Revolution together and go away, either to London or America (I. Doubt. That someone as high profile as Lazare could slink away to the country like a ton of other aristocrats did.) They live together more or less openly, Lazare deciding against taking a wife for convenience’s sake, and society is left to deal. In theory, they keep two separate bedrooms, but in practice? Yeah, that peasant boy is spending all his time in Lazare’s bed, and Lazare has no complaints. 

who is the big spoon/little spoon: See, I WANT to say “Lazare”. This has been my official stance for YEARS. That Ronan routinely cuddles up to Lazare (who had a very difficult time admitting that he, in fact, needs cuddles), and Lazare pulls his arm over him, protecting him, since we KNOW that Lazare tends to feel a deep sense of duty re: protecting the things most important to him, whether that’s the Crown or Ronan. BUT CONSIDER. BIG SPOON RONAN attacking from behind and Lazare getting to feel safe and secure for ONCE. 

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: Ronan likes Lazare reading to him. Lazare has a very warm, smooth voice, when he isn’t barking out orders. Ronan loves getting to cuddle against his shoulder or on his lap, Lazare stroking his hair with one hand and holding the book in the other, letting his voice flow over him. Lazare will sometimes (gently) chastise him for not listening to a single word he says, but it’s worth it to see Ronan at peace (and, in the case of at least a few of the works, it isn’t a particularly great loss, anyway.) 

002 | Orléans

How I feel about this character: Thotty, ambitious bastard who should NOT be this charismatic and yet somehow IS. Also right for a solid 60% of the musical. I’m trying to articulate all my thoughts but they are just variations on “SON” and “PROBLEMATIC”. 

All the people I ship romantically with this character: Margrid Arnaud. Arnaud, Margrid. The sister of Marie Antoinette. Street Gremlin. I can KIND of see Antoinette, in a very, very odd way. Less “I love you so now I’m going to destroy you” like the Hungarian did, more “We were friends, there were Undercurrents to it, Things happened to make them have some mutually hurt feelings, and being stung like that set up this Mood for things later on.” 

My non-romantic OTP for this character: I’m actually really interested in Louis & Orléans, as a relationship. Like, they were COUSINS. Something went deeply, deeply bad in their relationship at some point, and it totally ruined both of their lives. In another life, they might have been closer, but, with a throne between them....there was really no other way for it to end. 

My unpopular opinion about this character: The LOVELY thing about a fandom that consists of, like, three people on a good day is that IT’S MY SANDBOX. But, one thing that I do think is that it wasn’t really a straightforward Mnaipulator-Manipulatee relationship with Margrid. She signed on knowing fully well that she would get her hands dirty, Orléans TOLD her as much, and she wanted it, at the time. It didn’t really benefit him to conceal what they would be doing. The two of them just happened to drift to two different places over time. I’ve seen a certain....tendency to baby Margrid over her choices, because she DOES have a traumatic backstory, but...she can still be rather reprehensible as a human being herself. In the early stages of the musical, HE’D be more likely to hold her back from doing something awful as opposed to vice versa. I also do think that...he didn’t GO OUT intending to supplant Antoinette. That was formed after years of seeing her bungle ruling the country. You can even see it in M cast when Antoinette turns down Rohan’s attempt to make nice, where he has this very distinct “Oh....she DIDN’T....she did” face. That isn’t the face of someone who’s THRILLED that things are going according to plan, that’s the face of someone who’s realizing that there’s only one way for this to happen and for France to remain in one piece, and it’s for him to take the throne. 

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: The problem with Orléans, as a character, is that at least in the Toho production, I DO think he’s fairly well done. It’s hard for me to REALLY see....what I wish could have happened. Because you kind of realize that there were only ever a few ways for this to end, and as the musical progresses, the available options just get narrower and narrower. It isn’t GOOD, but like....you UNDERSTAND how it happens. I do wish that he had more scenes with Margrid, obviously from a self-indulgent ship perspective. Not even in terms of “canonical makeout session” (since I almost feel like a canonical makeout session would ruin it), but in terms of him finding out that Marie was her sister and that THAT was where he went wrong, but also....I’m not sure how MUCH it would have ended, and there’s something to be said for the tragedy of him just never KNOWING why she betrayed him. That hurt, furious look on his face as he’s led away really is probably the best place to end their relationship on. I would have loved to have seen their second meeting, after Hébert convinced her to take the job, since it would have REALLY given a ton of groundwork for their working partnership and would have given them the chance to discuss their kind of disastrous first meeting.  Obviously, I would hope that he gets his head screwed on properly and he runs off with Margrid to America, where they end up living peacefully for many years and having children who are spoiled absolutely rotten, along with his other, legitimate children, who also flee to America. Philippe, being himself, naturally ingratiates himself to the new country, becoming very active in politics, and upon his summoning of his dear friend the Chevalier de Saint-Georges to America, the cause of Abolitionism is given a massive head start. It isn’t entirely France....or London, where Philippe’s heart will always lie, but it’s a nice existence, and his ego is suitably stroked by the American fascination with royalty. (He and Laz still have at least one near-duel, which is halted by their respective significant others.) 

my OTP: Morléans. Shockingly. 

my cross over ship: Never 5get @lochley fucking selling me on Marie/Olympe/Orléans. 

a headcanon fact: Part of why he has his ongoing snipefest with Fersen is that he’s bitter that Fersen was able to fight in the American Revolution while, in his case, after the Royal Family tossed him to the wolves after the Battle of Ushant, he was forced to remain in France and sit it out, and someone as active as Orléans could barely STAND it. (Also, along with Ronan, has SOME form of ADHD. He has a lot of plans, and one LARGER plan, but when it comes to things outside of that one larger plan? Yeah, he scurries around, chases after whatever seems good in the moment. It drives Margrid up a WALL.) 

Method Acting

Fandom: Durarara!!!

Rating: T

Warnings: Implied sexual content (some mild hints but nothing too drastic)

Characters: Izaya Orihara, Shizuo Heiwajima

Relationships: Orihara Izaya/Heiwajima Shizuo

Description:  No one told them that there was going to be a kiss scene involved...

“What are you smiling about, bastard?” Shizuo Heiwajima growled, trying to put as much hatred into his glare as possible. After all, if Izaya was smiling, then that could mean nothing good for him. The best he could hope for was that he could somehow manage to intimidate the bastard into reconsidering whatever it was he was plotting in that head of his. But that would be the day pigs flew. He could try to strangle Izaya with a metal pipe, and the bastard still wouldn’t be frightened of him. He was too cheeky and brave for his own good. Shizuo was glaring goddamn daggers into him, but the man’s face remained practically serene as he spun around and hummed, the long pink and white kimono he had draped on flowing around him with an elegant grace.

“I just think we finally got put into very fitting and appropriate roles for once. I, a rich, prominent noble person, and you, a lowly servant-” Izaya’s sentence ended with a yelp as he dodged the water bottle Shizuo chucked at him, the bottle exploding everywhere, unfortunately nowhere near the louse.

Shizuo gritted his teeth in annoyance. What exactly was getting on his nerves, he wasn’t sure. Was he irritated because Izaya was being a perpetual asshole like always? But he should be used to it by now. Was he mad at himself for allowing Izaya’s quips to get under his skin in the first place? Shizuo had always had a ridiculously short fuse and bad anger issues. It didn’t take much for his temper to flare, and that flaw of his had almost caused him to lose roles before, seeing as some directors or actors felt afraid to work with him. He would like to point out if they didn’t want him blowing up half the time, they should try to avoid productions that involved Izaya, but whatever.

Maybe it was even something as base as the fact that no matter what he threw, Izaya managed to always have the evasiveness of a god and dodge it. It was a constant frustration, when all he wanted was to see the bastard get his just desserts for once.

Maybe it was a combination of all three.

Even though he didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing the water bottle hit, he took consolation at the filthy look Izaya threw his way, his strange wine-red eyes glimmering with hatred.

“Fuck you, Shizu-chan,” Izaya hissed. Shizuo felt his eye twitch at the nickname. Fuck did he hate the little bastard.

Shizuo was pretty sure he had some kind of blessing-curse rombo-combo going on right now. He was somewhat blessed, because he’d actually been managing to land a steady stream of roles, especially for a newer actor such as himself, and his status was taking off faster than he expected it to. Granted, most of his roles so far had been pretty small - just some parts in a couple of commercials and a few background roles in some TV shows and movies - but he had actually managed to land a few good spots.

He had gotten a very solid voice acting role for the main character of a popular anime, got to act as a main side character in a TV show for two seasons, and had even played the main antagonist in a monster movie that was getting quite the cult following.

He had been getting more and more fan letters, more and more interviews, and his name was being reached to a wider audience.

Pretty good, right?

However, there was a downside to it all. The curse of it being that almost ninety percent of the productions involved him working with Izaya Orihara. Izaya Orihara and him probably should get along. They were from very similar circumstances. They were both relatively young actors who were trying to make it in the industry. They had both been willing to pursue acting, despite knowing the risks such a life involved.

However, Izaya was an absolute asshole. He was always taunting, always sniping, always verbally jabbing at him. The pest even had a tendency to play pranks every now and then. And what Shizuo didn’t understand was why it was only him? Of course, he’d seen Izaya be mean to others, but he’d also seen a humble side of the flea. One who was professional and polite. Why couldn’t he get that kind of side of him? Even if it was just another act that the flea was pulling off. Was it because he had accidentally decked him and nearly broke his nose during a fake fight scene during one of their television shoots? Because that had been an accident .

Well, whatever the reason, it seemed Izaya had a personal vendetta against him and was determined to annoy him in anyway possible. One of his newer methods, Shizuo had been noticing was nicknaming him stuff. Protozoan had been the first, which, okay… was just a fancy way of saying the word idiot. He supposed as far as insults went though, it was generic though. But then, the flea had began throwing the word ‘monster’ around, probably to hint at the time Shizuo had, during the movie where he played the antagonist, “transformed” into a monster and had to wear a rubber suit, which Izaya, of course had found amusing.

Then, in one of the episodes of the TV show, there had been a miscommunication error, and for a good segment of the episode in question, a character thought Shizuo was a woman, who called herself ‘Shizu-chan.’ Ever since that episode had hit the airwaves, Izaya had been using the nickname to death.

He had considered getting the directors, but he knew that would be fruitless. Izaya had a way with words. Shizuo didn’t know how the flea did it, but he could get almost everyone wrapped around his finger in an instant. He would be able to convince the directors that it was simple misunderstanding or joke and sometimes, even pose it in a way that made Shizuo look like the bad guy.

So, he supposed if he wanted to be out of here faster, he should just do his lines as well as he could so he could get away from Izaya faster.

Also to get out of this tuxedo faster as well. It was making him feel unbearably hot.

So, turning away, he went to go some distance away from the flea. He had to remember… he was in a movie. A really big budget movie. The boost in his career this would give him would make it well worth having to deal with Shizuo.

He read over the lines of his script. His part was a bit harder. His character was a servant who’d been transferred from England to Japan, so he had to speak some lines with a bit of an accent and sprinkle in some broken Japanese every now and then, in order to try and make it authentic. It would lead help lead to the character Izaya was playing, Sakuraya, to feel the need to tutor the butler character, which would then lead to their eventual falling in love.

Shizuo grimaced. Not at the story itself. The story and the lines were fine. But the idea of having any romantic involvement with Izaya made him miserable just thinking about it.

But at least the directors had wanted their relationship to be “subtle” and “somewhat hidden” as to help fit the time period. So, the most they would be doing was handholding and maybe a hug.

And Shizuo supposed he could resist breaking Izaya’s hand enough to do a shoot.

All of a sudden, the director was calling for them to get into their positions. Shizuo took a breath.

Here went nothing. -------------------

Shizuo hated Izaya, but he had to admit, he saw why Izaya kept getting hired back. The guy was a very good actor. In fact, Shizuo might even say he had more talent than Shizuo, at least with his acting range. Izaya could seemingly put on any face he needed, always seemed to put the right inflection to his words. He spoke very eloquently and his memorization skills of his lines was top notch.

Shizuo, on the other hand, was a little harder on these aspects. It took him a couple tries to say some lines right and some lines he just struggled to remember. He wondered if that was part of the reason Izaya hated him too, because he was the only reason they were somewhat slow in any production. Well, Shizuo found Izaya’s infuriating perfectness to be annoying as well, so there.

But once they got it all down, the scenes seemed to flow naturally. Once Shizuo got himself in the right headspace, it was almost hard for him to remember that the soft hands he was holding belonged to the bastard flea.

They said their lines, they did their scenes, and eventually… the day was over.

Izaya stood up and looked at his hands in disgust, “Gotta go wash my hands now. Shizu-chan’s filthy hands no doubt got germs all over them.”

“Oi! What do you mean, filthy, you bastard?” Shizuo hissed.

And just like that, the illusion was dead and they were enemies once more. --------------------- “WHAT?” Both Shizuo and Izaya exclaimed the next day when they looked at the now changed script.

“You cannot be serious,” Izaya said, looking at the director imploringly.

“Please,” Shizuo groaned, “I’d be willing to do anything so long as you don’t do this.”

However, the director had very little sympathy for their plight. “We’ve decided the one way to get people to actually talk about the movie is if you two kiss. It makes it more romantic anyway.”

Izaya opened his mouth, and the director cut him off, “Before you say anything about historical accuracy, Izaya, it’s historical fiction for a reason. And if you noticed, the kiss happens in private. It’s staying in. If you two are that adamant about not doing it, we can easily find new actors to replace both of you.”

Shizuo supposed it couldn’t be more straightforward than that.

Growling, they both walked away in disgust.

“Remind me to buy some mouthwash before we shoot,” Izaya said, rolling his eyes.

Shizuo bristled, “You know I am not exactly eager, either, you fucking bastard.”

Izaya gave him a smirk and said, “Oh please, this is the probably the best thing to ever have happened for you. As far as I know, I might even be Shizu-chan’s first kiss!” He sing-songed the last part, mockingly.

“You wish, you rotten flea!” Shizuo said, tossing the script at Izaya, who like always, managed to dart away right in time, giggling.

He refused to acknowledge the fact that unfortunately, what Izaya said was indeed the truth.

Oh well… he supposed he had no choice.

The things one was willing to do for one’s craft.

--------------------------------------------------------------------- Acting was a little harder that day, at least for Shizuo. Naturally, he got into the flow of things again, but he couldn’t help but be distracted in the back of his mind that his lips were going to have to touch Izaya’s. And what’s worse, the director wanted it to look authentic. It couldn’t just be a little peck or anything, it had to involve tongue and everything, because of course it did.

Eventually though, as they continued to do the scene, it became a bit easier to fall into the role. He and Izaya were sitting on their knees, and Izaya had placed a hand on his knee, the two of them staring into one another’s eyes. Once again, Shizuo had to give it to Izaya’s acting ability. There seemed to be an actual heat in the gaze, and it seemed to electrify the air around Shizuo.

The scene was coming up any second now. Izaya was the one who had to initiate it.

Suddenly, the hand on Shizuo’s knee lifted and delicate, soft fingers touched his cheek. Eyes half-lidded, Izaya whispered, “Shitsuo-san, may I try something with you?”

“Of course,” Shizuo replied, eyes going half-lidded himself. He tried to look calm and somewhat confused, even though he was antsy as hell.

He had expected Izaya to hesitate. He probably would’ve if he was in the flea’s situation. However, the slender man actually closed his eyes and pressed their lips together immediately, his hand winding into Shizuo’s hair in a way that felt way to good.

Shizuo had to admit, he was a bit surprised. He had expected Izaya to purposely make this miserable for him. Maybe eat something absolutely nasty so his breath reeked or something while they were kissing, but Izaya’s lips actually felt soft and his breath warm. Shizuo hoped the fact that he stiffened when Izaya kissed him translated to his character being surprised rather than he himself being nervous.

Now was the point where Shizuo’s character was supposed to protest.

Pushing Izaya off of him lightly, he grabbed Izaya’s hands and said, “Master Sakuraya, we… we can’t.”

Izaya breathily chuckled and said, “Of course we can Shitsuo, so long as we are clever and coy.”

Then once more, Izaya pressed his lips to Shizuo’s. And this was the part where they were supposed to get more intense with the kiss, Shitsuo eventually giving in to his desires, at least for a moment. Izaya reminded him of this by tracing the line of his lips with his tongue, which caused Shizuo to gasp involuntarily. The flea took advantage of this, his tongue goading Shizuo’s to work with him. The flea was letting out convincing little hums too.

He was too good at this.

Eventually, Shizuo went along with it. And it felt good. Izaya was a great kisser, despite all of his other flaws. Shizuo found himself actually getting lost somewhat in baser desires.

However, eventually Izaya pulled away and his character let out a giggle, “See, you seemed to enjoy that, Shitsuo-san.”

Now, this was where Shitsuo was supposed to exit the scene. Pushing Izaya away, this time more roughly, he wiped at his lips and said, “No Sakuraya, doing such illicit acts will get us in trouble eventually. I… I have to leave.”

He stood up to leave, hearing Izaya’s character call out, “Shitsuo, please-!”

But Shizuo’s character snapped the door closed.

“CUT!” he heard the director say, but Shizuo continued to walk on until he reached the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror. Had… he actually enjoyed kissing Izaya? ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night Shizuo was haunted by his dreams. Dreams of soft lips against his. The feeling of hands shifting through his hair. But there was a slight change to the context of the dreams. Instead of innocent hums, it was shameless hums he was swallowing. Instead of pushing Izaya away, his hands were slipping underneath Izaya’s kimono, feeling up the man’s pale skin, pinching a nipple and causing the other man to mewl in his mouth.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya whined, “Please-”

Shizuo awoke with a groan. Shit… what the fuck… --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Working with Izaya was already a pain in the ass, with the flea being, well, the way he was.

But somehow, this felt even worse. Cause now, he felt awkward.

His dreams hadn’t ended there. They had continued well throughout the night. Every single time, Izaya was in a new position, saying new things, but the concept was basically the same. Shizuo felt himself burning with shame.

Sure, Izaya was attractive, and okay, he was a good kisser. But he was an asshole.

And he was his coworker. He had to remember this. That kiss had been nothing but acting. Nothing else.

But for the whole day, as they were doing their shoots, Shizuo found he couldn’t focus. He kept messing up the lines, he refused to make eye contact with Izaya half the time, and he couldn’t put any heart into his lines.

Eventually, the director, frustrated, decided that what they needed was a break. He gave generic advice to Shizuo, which made him feel embarrassed… but he had simply nodded and walked away to the set to get a drink from his water bottle, wondering if it was going to be like this for the whole rest of the movie shoot. Because if so, he was going to lose a very valuable acting role, cause he highly doubted this director would have the patience to deal with him.

All of a sudden, he felt something hit him in the back. Not too hard, but enough to catch him off-guard.

When he looked down, he saw a water bottle rolling innocently by his foot. When he looked at the direction it had been thrown from, he saw Izaya smirking, saying, “Revenge.”

When Shizuo didn’t laugh, Izaya said, “Oh fine, no sense of humor… anyway, I just came to ask what the hell was with you up there? You struggle sometimes, but never that badly. What’s got you so bothered?”

Shizuo swallowed as he looked at Izaya. He couldn’t believe he was about to say this.

“Can I kiss you again?”

Izaya actually blinked in surprise for a moment. Shizuo expected him to refuse or to be disgusted, but Izaya actually just smirked.

“What?” Shizuo barked gruffly, already bracing for Izaya to mock him.

However, he was pleasantly surprised when Izaya just said, “See… told you it would be the best thing to happen to you.”

Shizuo rolled his eyes and snapped, “Shut up and come over here, flea, before I regret it.”

“Happy to oblige,” Izaya said with a purr, before striding over and pressing their lips in a kiss.

It was as good as Shizuo remembered it.

He would’ve been happy to stay there for a while, but Izaya pulled away and said, “If you want continued kisses, you got to take me out to dinner first.”

Shizuo swallowed and said, “Deal.”

Izaya was an asshole… but maybe… just maybe… he could get this to work.

Shizuo had always been the hopeful sort.

WHY WE NEED A REVOLUTION

Growing up I recall a soft drink advert where they used to make the claim ‘the revolution will not be televised’. Given all the crap we see on TV these days I kind of hope that it is.

Don’t get me wrong, a revolution does not have to be a long series of riots or violence. It could be something completely different, but something that leads to a shift. Who knows maybe something akin to a revolution is actually taking place.

The reason I feel we need something akin to a revolution is that bubbling away under the surface of life is deep unhappiness. In the past decade or two so many things have been surfaced that have shocked us.

Across the globe, politics has quite frankly gone bat shit crazy. Unrest and discomfort in daily life are becoming the norm.

We had a global financial crisis that didn’t correct any of the wrongs that underpinned it.

On a weekly basis, we are learning that the people we celebrate and reward so highly, flout their positions and commit heinous harms. Justice is never likely to be served.

Huge corporations and powerful individuals continue to increase the divide between the haves and have nots.

It’s as if all of the rich and powerful have totally forgotten the concept of ‘with great power comes responsibility’. Failure is richly rewarded for some, irrespective of the cost it brings.

The masses though are placated with toys and avenues to keep them from rising up. I have never witnessed such a monumentally awesome age of great television. Fuck the real world problems out there, I’ve got several hundred hours of Netflix marathons to get through.

Then you feel a bit guilty that you are failing in your civic duty, so you decide to send an ironic GIF to Donald Trump – you know doing your bit.

You could cancel your Amazon Prime account and vote with your feet, but then you’d have to wait a few days for your deliveries.

You’d use a search engine to find a different provider, but you like Google. Google knows you so well that when you start typing shit it predicts what you want and you don’t need to hit another key.

It doesn’t scare you at all, not even the fact that you clearly have an Asian babes obsession or some of the suggestions are a bit worrying.

Sure, someone else could get right on that issue. Politicians for instance. They should be sorting this shit out, except they are far too busy trying to pretend to rule the world and avoid answering difficult questions.

Be honest. We are quite simply fucked right now. A revolution might be exactly what we need.

You may be in need of a little more convincing. You know as you are sat there skipping words and sentences for a quick fix that tells you whether this is worth your time or not.

5 minutes of your time, taking you from your busy life. The one where you're a battery plugged into a system that is fucking you every day. At least it all fits conveniently into your phone, I guess.

So, here it goes.

People have become weak

Everybody seems to be offended, like, all of the time. You can’t say shit anymore without someone either correcting you or reminding you of the new rules of engagement that nobody agreed to.

If you are one of these people, don’t be offended when I say that you are total Thundercunt. Seriously, I mean that from the bottom of my heart.

If you came here hoping to find something to annoy you, then you aren’t paying attention. Unplug your earphones and look at the world around you. It’s fucked. You could focus your efforts on doing something productive even if that’s being a better person, or a little less sensitive.

There’s plenty to be pissed about. People don’t want to focus on the big stuff that matters. They’d rather freak the fuck out about inconsequential nonsense that bruises their fragile egos.

We need a revolution so that we can all ‘man the fuck up’ (sorry feminazis) and start fixing shit like we’re Bob the Builder (or Betty if it makes you feel better).

We need to change the news narrative. Anyone else bored to tears with the daily Brexit coverage? Seriously, this storyline is more drawn out than the whole Ross and Rachael will-they-won’t-they saga.

For all the super-intelligent University educated geniuses that just graduated and have no fucking idea who Ross or Rachael are, go check out a TV show called ‘Friends’. It’s probably on the History channel these days anyway.

Brexit is like an un-flushable turd. A repetitive narrative that papers and broadcasters trot out every day. Seriously, this shite is more convoluted and contrived than the X Factor. It’s the epitome of the lowest form of entertainment and we need to change the record.

Whether you are for a Sunnyside-up Brexit or a Brexit with a side of Unicorn steak, I couldn’t give a damn. A revolution might at the very least give us all something new to get excited about and something we could all rally behind.

We need unity not division

Issues like politics, sport, and even mild banter have become so immersed in the underlying anger we're silently drowning in that no one seems able to have fun anymore.

I cannot remember a time when so many comedians couldn’t make a decent joke about the moronic state of the world and instead make sniping remarks to canned laughter.

Every decent sporting event seems to get overrun with people’s inability to enjoy the spectacle for what it is. Social media and chat forums are littered with petulant hatred and jingoistic tribal bullshit. The Brexit ‘have your say’ plays out like an anthem of bitterness with new vitriolic names invented every day.

We are descending into a bunch of spoiled children who express their pent up feelings through sending passive aggressive memes, angry hashtags and all manner of confusing emojis to make some innocuous point.

We are slowly becoming a mathematician with a broken calculator to solve all our problems. It can’t always be about division (see what I did there).

This diversity bullshit just isn’t working, let’s try something new like a bit of unity. You know: adding shit up to something bigger. I’m fairly sure Einstein would approve, and he was a smart guy.

Some folks need something better to do

If you spend most of your life sitting on your butt. You have all your stuff delivered to your door and your thoughts delivered to your phone or through your TV or laptop – you need a revolution.

We can call it a hobby or a social bonding activity. It’ll be a bit weird because all your new ‘friends’ might not look exactly like you, but you might learn a thing or two about the real world you live in.

Echo chambers are nice and safe because everyone in them thinks the same stuff. However, the real world is full of people ready to blow your mind in more than 140 characters or a 5-minute blog post. It could be exciting.

If you need convincing, watch the Matrix. Neo was simply sad old Thomas Anderson miserable as fuck, then he met Morpheus and learned to fly and loads of other cool shit.

If you already know what you think and it makes you comfortable to surround yourself with other people just like you, perhaps you should just join a cult and be done with it.

The system is broken

Seriously, guys, we have seriously screwed the pooch with the world at the moment.

The system’s broken and we are all just standing around waiting for inevitability to prevail.

The Avengers won't be coming to save us. Anyone who saw last year’s movie knows they are a bit down on their luck at the moment.

Thanos’ minions seem to be running the world and we all need to step up and become superheroes in our own right.

If you want to whip out the Lycra or Spandex – go for it. But do something, even if it’s just being better or not throwing hate out to the world because someone is different from you.

I don’t care if the revolution happens or even if it is streamed on Netflix or some other site. Change needs to happen and often that is as simple as everyone trying to be less of a douchebag than they might have normally been.

The only thing I can offer as a ‘reward’ or promise is that we might actually get some decent music back on the scene.

Revolutions tend to come out best in song. There has been no truly great era of music for decades now, and if ever there was a more compelling reason for a revolution this would be it.

Music is the anthem of the soul. It’s time for it to wake up and belt out something beautiful.

OUAT 2X10 - The Cricket Game

I’m loving this Season’s villains! I think they’re...CORA-upting me!!! XD

It’s okay, Reggie! You know I’m PUN-OMENAL at these!

If you want to read my actual thoughts on this episode (And BOY do I have some opinions), hit me up by going down below the cut!

Press Release Regina is accused of murdering one of the town’s most beloved fairytale characters – but only Emma senses that she may be innocent. Meanwhile, back in the fairytale land that was, after capturing the Evil Queen, Snow White and Prince Charming set about planning her public execution in order to rid the land of her murderous tyranny. General Thoughts - Characters/Stories/Themes and Their Effectiveness Past The trapping Regina scene in the flashback captivates Snow’s character in essence. Snow is not a stupid woman. She knows from experience what Regina is capable of, so she took the precaution of bringing reinforcements. However, she still has the kindness and love that the world (Both in and out of universe) came to know and love her for by attempting for diplomacy with Regina and later mourning the fact that Regina didn’t take it after the fact.

Apart from that, this is honestly a very frustrating segment. That’s because from where I stand, Regina at this point in her life absolutely deserved to die, and it was moronic of Snow not to let that happen.

And I get that that’s the point of the segment. Snow learns what everyone else already knew: Regina can’t change. However, the problem comes where this episode tries to make Snow and Charming’s debate one of equal merit to try to play up to a level of ambiguity. The episode is trying so hard to convince me that Snow might be in the right for wanting to spare Regina from execution, but is actually giving the explanation and diligence of dialogue to Charming. Charming’s coming across as barely ruthless, and his words are those that make sense and are given truth by the fact that we have seen what Regina is capable of. Hell, Regina, in the moments before the execution says that she regrets not having caused more pain.

And if they’re not going for an ambiguous plot and Snow is unabashedly supposed to be wrong in this flashback, then it’s just an honestly boring flashback. The segment itself doesn’t explore anything or lead to any unique character moments. While it’s nice to see Regina and Henry Sr. talk again, their conversation is pointless and gives us nothing that we haven’t gotten before. It honestly shouldn’t have existed because it paints Snow and Charming’s rule, something that was supposed to be fair and strong, albeit stuck in a conflict with Regina’s kingdom, into a bit of a joke. Now, in relation to the present, is it better that Regina lives? Yes, but this flashback is so fresh off the boat of detailing all of the harm that she caused in Season 1 that it would’ve had more effectiveness had it aired in a later season where present Regina could’ve had a lot more goodness at her back and her past been more distanced. As it stands, it’s a flashback that works semi effectively for Regina, but at the cost of reinforcing Regina’s more evil qualities and making Snow seem like not only a detrimental pacifist (And to be frank, an idiot), but an unjust ruler to all of her friends who lost what and who they cared for at Regina’s hands. It was actually painful to watch the scene between Snow and Charming after the failed execution, and not in the good way (It’s made even worse by the fact that Snow is so much smarter in the present). Snow’s not presenting a good enough argument to spare Regina against someone who is framed semi-negatively who has every reasonable reason to want to kill her, and it’s even revealed during her conversation with Rumple (“I don’t even know if it’s possible.”) that she doesn’t even have complete confidence in her decision while it risks the safety of her entire kingdom. How am I supposed to retain my confidence that Snow has what it takes to rule when this is how she handles such a big decision? Present I love the story here. It feels like the logical continuation of the story for out mains: What do we do with Regina now? Emma feels mixed, but her love for Henry and after dealing with Cora for an extended amount of time paints her as more willing to at least hear Regina out going forward (Though with understandable limits) while Snow and Charming who have encountered Regina at her worst for far longer are far more reluctant, and that conflict of feelings is the driving point behind the story. Now, do I consider Emma a touch too forgiving? Somewhat, but I also feel like said experiences with Cora paired with an understanding of the path bad parenting can turn on onto and genuine gratefulness for her return home makes it work well enough, especially with their argument during the party!

If I had a complaint about this segment (And it’s honestly a nitpick), it would be at Emma trying to pretend that there’s this connection between her and Regina about trying to change. Now, it’s effective enough, showing how Emma wants to be a mother to Henry while Regina’s trying to change her life, but I feel like the balance of that comparison never quite felt as strong as it could’ve.

Also, let’s talk about the “my son” line. I take no issue with it and actually applaud the line. It’s appropriately framed as the moment where Emma’s gone too far when she says it, but because as far as she knows, Regina has just squandered her own redemption, something she was trying to do for Henry’s sake, and then had the nerve to lie about it. It’s supposed to be a frustrating yet understandable response and it annoys me how so many refuse to accept that there are layers to this line and conversation that are delivered through framing and think that this is some issue where sides need to be definitively taken on who was “right.” That’s not how this works. Also, it had an appropriate level of setup because Emma was definitely responsive to Regina’s snipe at her during the party as to her skills as a mother. We see that throughout the episode, Emma’s been taking more steps to take on a direct motherly role to Henry after that conversation at the party. It culminates so well so at the moment she’s lost faith in Regina’s innocence, she’s lost faith in her ability to be a mother too. Insights - Stream of Consciousness -The opening shot of this episode is the most underrated shot in the entire series. It’s cool, dark, and Killian’s standing in the moonlight like a badass. It’s the first frame we see without even a recap or intro, but it pulls me in like nothing else in the world! And as the moment intensifies and we here Killian’s theme as he looks upon an unsuspecting Storybrooke and later jumps off his ship, it only gets better. Gif makers, make more gifs of this because I don’t see these shota on my dash at all and that’s a fucking problem! Like, it’s badass Hook! How is this not the centerpiece art or inspiration for like a dozen fics, no matter what you ship?! Like, Killian could either be a good guy or a bad guy in that! So please, just use this gif more! -Cora and Killian have a great rapport. While Killian’s not dumb by any means, we see how his vengeance tends to blind him and how someone more reserved in her thinking like Cora (EFor as INCREDIBLY fucked up as she is) can keep his thoughts in check. -Cora! Don’t kill the nice tackle shop employee! Rude af, ya bitch! And thank you, Killian for at least having the decency not to kill him. -I talk a LOT more about the tacos scene in the “Flip My Ship” section of this reviews (Or should I say, I TACO bout it), but the aftermath with Henry and Emma is hysterical and it only gets better with time. The line that brings the joke home (“It’s impressive that we can still provide her with a few traumatic childhood memories at this stage of the game”) just cements it as one of OUAT’s eternal shining moments. -Why did we not see Snow and Charming take down King George? At risk of dipping my toe into the salt pool, I feel like King George was really done dirty in the name of getting more characters when he was dripping with nuance. I’m not mad, per se seeing as we got that great castle storming last season, but there were more than a couple of eyes rolled when that bit of exposition was delivered to Regina. -It is just too cute to see Snow and Emma walking into a party only to be cheered by all their friends. Like, that just warms my heart. -On a sadder note, I realized how Emma’s name on the sign is smaller and not of the same material, almost like an add on. I don’t know if that was supposed to be read as a subtle hint from the set designers that Emma doesn’t fully fit in yet or what, but that hurts so much! -”I cannot tell you the relief of cooking something that I didn’t have to kill first.” “Don’t I know it. Meat loaf back home? What a bitch.” Another great set of funny lines! -On another funny note, I’m just imagining somewhere in town, Killian and Cora are walking around with ALL of the modern world jokes happening in the background! Fic writers (Maybe just me): GET ON THIS! -Charming’s speech is just so great here! It’s funny (“Here’s to hopefully not having to look for a while), adorable, and creates this very at-home mood. -Leroy, way to rush for the knife! XD And “What’s the secret ingredient? Poison?” is just a riot! -Mad props to Regina for her respect for the new paradigm of her standings with Henry’s custody. Like, look at Season 1 Regina, and there’s this big change! BUT also, I like how the writing shows how she’s not suddenly a goody-two shoes. Regina has anger issues and that comes out in a nasty and petty way. This was a good decision, especially given how fast she realizes her mistake and apologizes! And that real sincere apology is accepted, but the nastiness and pettiness doesn’t fully go away either, as evidenced by her talk with Dr. Hopper shortly afterwards! The character work at here is just gorgeous! -Cora is terrifying. She knows from just one look at Regina how “broken” she is. (As a side not, I’m now thinking of the title of the Season 1 premiere, “Broken” and how it relates to Regina. -”Reminding them of my past?” Archie told Emma nothing about your past and even you know that! -”I fear the Queen will never change.” I like this line, not only because it contrasts between Jiminy’s resolve in the past and present towards Regina, but how it speaks to the impact that Henry has had on Regina, as he’s made her someone who he believes could be saved. -”We must dispense justice.” Jiminy, for once in your life, you are making sense! -LIsten to the fluffy baby! -”Corgina’s” outfit is just so cool! -I like how Emma, though knowing that Regina’s words were said out of anger, still takes an aspect of them to heart by trying to be a more involved mother. -”How can I blame the one I love most?” A more cynical side of me is saying that this line is purposely over the top, but the side of me seeing Regina and Henry Sr. having a moment is crying too hard at said moment to care! -Rumple shows up for the execution. I wonder, did he actually fear that Regina would die, and if so, was he coming just to see if it would happen, or was his motivation more out of concern. Also, love the pan to him when Regina says, “even caused death.” Twice! -”We let her go. Then, we find the truth.” YES! Give me “Emma Swan: Investigations” on the 3DS, please! -If I ever decide to make a drinking game out of this show, I need to make sure that I take a BIG gulp every time Rumple is interrupted while or right before eating. -Rumple cooing at Pongo turns out to be all I need. Best episode ever! -”Well a long time ago in another life, I got to know a sheepdog or two.” WHY. WAS. THIS. NEVER. SHOWN?! -”It won’t allow us to communicate [With Pongo].” If magic won’t let you communicate with animals, then what’s the fucking point of it? -”Couldn’t you just use magic to fool us?” Give it time, Emma. -I LOVE those looks Snow and Charming give when Rumple reveals that Emma has magic and the follow-up reluctance when Rumple goads her into using it. -Love the Neal hint with that dream catcher! Prop Department, you guys deserve a retroactive raise! XD -Why did Pongo’s dream catcher only start glowing around his back/stomach? XD -I like how Emma immediately adopts and understands the concept of “all magic comes with a price.” -”He’s not [your son]! He’s mine.” I love the buildup to this fight. Like a cup of tea, it was brewing to the point of a perfect outburst. That having been said, Emma’s dialogue gets a little...weird after Regina magically pushes her. It sounds like how Snow or Charming would talk, not her, and character voice is an important thing. And why did what Emma say during that bit of the fight change her attitude from fighting Emma to leaving? It’s not like Henry showed up and saw her attack. I guess it’s a matter of credibility? -How the hell did Cora and Killian travel through Storybrooke with any manner of subtlety?! They’re Mr. and Ms. Drama! -Killian says “mom” too! I know it’s stupid, but what was up with the weird colloquialism in the Enchanted Forest?! Like, 98% of the citizens use the “mother/father” designation, and these instances where they use “mom” really pop out! -”If that’s him, who did you kill?” “How should I know? It’s my first day in town!” The humor in this episode is just the best! XD Arcs - How are These Storylines Progressing? Regina’s Redemption - Regina’s redemption is appropriately challenged here and instead of Henry doing the challenging, it’s Henry’s heroes, who are far less forgiving of Regina’s misgivings. Well, partially because of Emma. I said this before, but I think how they handled Regina in the present part of the story was just genius! She’s really trying to fit in, but no one forgives her barring Henry, Emma, and Archie. Understandable. But what makes this so good is that Regina’s doesn’t just flip characters into someone nice but unrecognizable. The nasty, petty, and savage side to her is still very much alive, suppressed until she gets angry. That goes such a long way to showing that this redemption is a fight within herself. It’s a show of how self aware she can be depending on if she can apologize or not and sticks with the other characters as they investigate Archie’s murder. Cora in Storybrooke - Cora’s here and she’s corrupting shit! Cora immediately starts acting like a heat-seeking missile. She gets basic intel about her situation and then set out about destroying Regina’s life. And just like said missile, she destroys it pretty much on sight. Killian’s Revenge/Redemption - We’re starting to get into the “how” of how Killian takes his revenge. And Killian saves a fish guy! Rumple’s Redemption - Granted while all but forced because of Belle’s presence, Rumple does help Emma and co. to the best of his abilities. Favorite Dynamic Emma and Regina -  What I love about this dynamic here is just its sincerity. Emma is blatantly unsure of how much Regina has changed, but she knows that she wants to and is being supportive. And even though this builds to an unhappy ending between the two of them, that sticks with Emma the whole time. She gives Regina the benefit of the doubt because she both believes in Regina and she wants Henry to have her in his life until plausible deniability goes out the window (As far as she knows). Emma works herself to the bone trying to examine each and every possibility that could prove Regina’s innocence and I feel like she doesn’t get enough credit for that. Regina herself is also being sincere, both in her defense for herself in the murder mystery and with her emotions and wants. She’s very honest as to her opinions on why she’s innocent and she’s open about her hopes to spend more time with Henry. And you honestly feel her trying to be more self aware, especially with the apology at the party. Writer Goodman and Hull are back in this episode, and unfortunately, so is Goodman’s sanctimony. This episode is so annoyingly on the nose with its laurels and in the past, it has nothing to show for it. Additionally, there’s no sense of framing in the flashback. While Snow ultimately decides that trying to redeem Regina was wrong, the entire amount of buildup towards that conclusion gives all the good points to David while making Snow our focal character. In the present, things are much better, for the framing is dependent on the effective shows of work into her redemption that Regina’s gone through and the audience has the crucial point of reference that Cora is in town and she can transform herself. I feel like I need to attribute this to Hull. Rating 6/10. I’m so torn about this episode. The quality of the content in the present is out of this world. Half the lines had me in stitches because the comedy hit a bullseye each and every time. And story wise? What a great one! The conflicts between Emma and her parents, Emma and Regina, and Emma with herself are all delivered masterfully and they were written so intricately that no one is left without sympathy. On the other side of the coin though, the flashback is a profound waste of time. It serves to grant a single point of exposition, but unlike other episodes that try for the same thing, nothing of interest is even attempted barring a genuine though completely useless conversation between Regina and Henry Sr.. We know Regina wasn’t about to switch sides in this flashback, and without the attempt of pretense to entertain that, the writing ends up making Snow a complete idiot. Flip My Ship - Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness” Snowing - TACOSSSSSSSSSSS!!!! *ahem* That is all. Okay, I’ve got more to say because the taco scene is just adorable and sexy, and it’s rare that we get a scene like this without unfortunate implications behind it. The chemistry between Ginny and Josh is as hot as it’s ever been and it’s a perfect bout of payoff for their separation. Seeing Snow and Charming cradle each other and have such fluffy pillow talk that you’d think the scene happened in heaven itself is just flawless. Rumbelle - Seeing Belle coo over Rumple cooing at Pongo brings the biggest smile to my face on this Earth! ()()()()()()()()() Thank you all for reading and to the fine folks at @watchingfairytales! Next time, let’s examine one of our outsiders, okay? See you then!

Season 2 Tally (92/220) Writer Tally for Season 2: Adam Horowitz and Edward Kitsis: (29/60) Jane Espenson (17/50) Andrew Chambliss and Ian Goldberg (20/50) David Goodman (16/30) Robert Hull (16/30) Christine Boylan (7/30) Kalinda Vazquez (10/30) Daniel Thomsen (10/20)

Operation Rewatch Archives

FakeAHCrew idea- meeting the Sauce Pt2

Continued thoughts, sorry this is so long

I've practically made this a story (I’m not a writer this is so dumb)

-Ever since Alfredo moved out to Los Santos to get work and possibly find a crew to cement the money flow, it’s been a wild ride just like the rest of life

-Most of the gangs were either too small or lacked the coordination for what he wanted to achieve, they couldn’t keep up with him, or they got upset some non-local dared to think he could run with them (in which he proved them wrong, but it was too late by then), and not to mention the lack of trust all around

-He couldn’t hate on solo mercenary work though, where his versatile skills and abilities shined, no worries of double crossing, and the richest of the rich throwing money everywhere for him to “clean up the city”, earning him the title “the Sauce”

-Lately though, a certain demanding kingpin had been hollering for heads to roll, claiming “You owe me big time, you skinny fuck”, and there came the double edge of solo-work

Pay back a favor you have no memory of, or since no one’s watching his back, be more paranoid than usual, unfamiliar with how Los Santos rich fucks run and not wanting to know how many fuckers could be chasing after him or worse?

Fuck it, he wants the guy off his back, so the Sauce will deliver, any request will be fulfilled

-Hit after hit, the kingpin frothing at the mouth for bodies piling higher and higher until he wanted heads of the Fakes, a big gang Alfredo was aware of, but not informed about, so he takes to the rooftops for his own research

-What Alfredo gathers is that they are practically psychopaths, destruction and confusion trailing their steps, lower sides of town practically in awe of them, the corrupt privileged and competing gangs shaking in their boots at the sight of them barreling in and he dug it

-They treat each other- or at least act, like a family, busting each others’ balls, but will throw themselves into the fray if it will keep the others alive (they watch each others’ backs and he’s got no one)

-What else is that he must need more sleep or something bc he’s been seeing ghosts run around Los Santos and he’s not gonna lie, it’s really been fucking with him each time he had to watch the fakes

He never found out if his brothers died or not when they disappeared and he never checked up to see if they were still alive either, but damn, two of the fakes were hitting him hard in the nostalgia with appearances and mannerisms

A dangerous big guy called Vagabond running around in a black skull mask, pulling antics like his older brother Ryan used to, acting creepy but goofy while upholding his murderous reputation, and from the shadows, often waiting for the opportunity to strike with a grin is someone else wearing his face..... oh fuck that might not just be nostalgia

-From then on, Alfredo more or less unofficially became a guardian angel for his brothers and eventually all of the reckless fakes, fleeing the scene before they notice, it’s hard to continue on a head hunting mission when the targets are people you still care about even if you’re not a part of their life anymore

But he finally slipped up, got too involved getting up close and personal with a rival gang, but he had to, they got Ryan and Michael cornered and backup wasn’t gonna make it time, so the Sauce delivered and he wiped the floor with them, but he also wiped away his perfect record of giving the client what they want bc his demanding as fuck oldass richbitch kingpin is probably pissed damn it that guy’s gonna come for him

So Alfredo plans to leave Los Santos like how he arrived, unaware of the familiar eyes looking after him

-Once Alfredo makes his hasty exit, Trevor books it after him and Ryan tries to follow after, but Michael stops him at least one of you dramatic assholes is explaining shit to me right now, whose best option is to just call the crew for another backup driver and fast

-A game of cat and mouse around the city ensues, but this time Trevor catches up to Alfredo, but just he’s getting cornered by the demanding client and his goons, an old contact that Trevor’s annoyed to see, talking out his ass with his nose sniffing for the heavens

-”I hired you to take out the fakes, not fucking cover them,” The goons inch in more and more, Alfredo’s not that concerned about them, he’s concerned on who’s the backup plan for the goons “Ya’ know Treyco, thought you’d learn be by now-”

Wait a fucking minute, not only is Alfredo pissed (this fucker didn’t fucking know who he was actually hiring!? He didn’t owe this guy shit god damn it!!), but so is Trevor and before the kingpin could finish his thought, his hired muscles were out across the concrete with knives in their backs, and Trevor reveals himself from the shadows, with a sharpened grin and burning eyes “Now, if you wanted to see me that bad old friend, you could’ve called~”

The poor fucker was seeing double, sputtering as he looked at these two look-a-likes, the real Trevor with his bladed teeth and melting eyes, and Alfredo with a tight frown burning a hole through his head since he removed his sunglasses

Safe to say, another glorious puppeteer of Los Santos forcibly met his violent end, screaming in agony the entire way in some shit alleyway

The second the kingpin left the world, Trevor nearly smashed Alfredo into a hug, leftover adrenaline and pushed back emotions overriding sense, while Alfredo froze in response

“At least in this reunion, no one’s stabbed each other yet, huh?” He brings up a past joke in a wobbly tone, but it was worth it to hear Alfredo snort and chuckle as he finally hugged him back

-By the time the fakes find them, having skewered the city looking for them, they’re eating at a McDonalds or something, joking around and planning hare-brained heists on napkins, ignoring the blood upon their clothes, and there the crew gets a personal introduction to Alfredo the Sauce, already mixing him up with Trevor but picking up their small differences

-Ryan feels conflicted from his mix-ups bc yes he hadn’t seen Trevor and Alfredo since they were kids and sibling angst stuff but he should know his brothers’ faces also thank fuck the best people of his past family are still alive

-Jeremy’s embarrassed at his mix-up because he definitely knew of all people from being on the Stream Team that Trevor can’t do sniping worth shit and he doesn‘t appear outside during the day unless there’s work to do in the shadows, he’s practically allergic to the sun (in which he loudly adds to the conversation, much to Trevor’s ire and his twin’s amusement)

-Alfredo’s happy to not be alone anymore, especially with the endless embarrassing stories about his brothers

henlo yza <3 how have you been doing?

honestly i don't have much idea but he's into film making/producing?, that's why his mv analysis seem cool to me, he's also a carat that is what hooked me up w his reaction videos jdjddk

junhao in today's concert 😭😭😭😭 i was calm since it started but then they appeared and my excitement skyrocketed djdjdjkd both looked so good 🥺🥺🥺, starting to miss them a lot ngl i hope they come back soon </3 what was your reaction? also how was the concert djdjkdk my links broke bc of junhao </3 servers couldn't handle them. i have 0 idea what happened after that djjdjddk which were your favorite performances? rant away hehe <3

ALSO isn't siren siren waeo waeo also vernon's part? and now what's 2 minus 1, i just love how these lil adlibs of his end up becoming iconic <3

HDDJKSKEDJDDJJS ofc unleashing inner hater is part of becoming besties afterall. ( she's bringing back svt club again oh my god ) i don't remember who said it but it was the ep in which members were talking about what/who annoys them etc and someone(think it was dino or woozi) mentioned about 'respecting things you hate' i've been using that quote so much ever since 😭😭😭 but only as quote djjdkdkd sometimes just hating is ok hehe <3

cannot believe ( she's lying ) woozi and hoshi again ended up last hdjddkdk woozi getting surprised is so funny to me 😭😭😭😭 ALSO not them clowning him for wanting to included in activities but at the same time not. idk how much of that is true but it sounds exactly like him lmaoooo which is exactly how i am 💀 3 yrs still stanning and it still amazes me how much alike we are oh goddd

thank you so much for sending in disc link <3 i managed to watch vu's performance hddjjeke only because of you <3. what would i without you <//3 i also hit post limit today for the first time in my life???? djjdkskssk today wasn't it for me ig but i had good food so we're still sexy <3

" have one more scheduled few mins from now" NAURRRR WERE YOU WRITING THIS JUST FEW MINUTES BEFORE EXAM??? 😭😭😭djjdjddk hope all your exams went great, also hope you had fun today, have a sexie week yza i love you so much 💌💓, mwah <3

CHERIEEEEEEEEEEEE I AM IN THE BRINK OF COLLAPSE FDGKJFDJKKDFJDF

thank u for always checking up on me </3 you are lich rally the sweetest 🥺

wait what is his name 👁👄👁 i havent found him yet HFDJHFDJHFDJ

THE WAY U WERE CALM?????????????????????????????????? i saw the guitar solo and lost it fucking IMMEDIATELY FJKFDKJFD U ARE AN ICON OF SELF-CONTROL <3 also me tooooooooooooooo </3 ot13 really brings a diff energy but i'm glad they got to go home and also got to do their own activities 🥺 ALSO NOOOOOO OH MY GOD </3 i wasn't able to find streams on twt too a lot of them got sniped and the others were too exclusive lol fdjkfdjkfdjkd do u still want to watch the whole thing? i have a multiview link for the power ver <3 i'm still getting around to watching the jp one though fdjffjfjdfd BUT MY FAVORITE FROM POWER WAS DEF FAST PACE <3 they brought out whorevenTEEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! not amused at the backlash they got though. idk why svt gets this kinda response whenever they do something slightly sexy, lol. LET THEM BE THE ADULTS THAT THEY ARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! v amazed at how they handled it though <3 king shit

ALSO YEAH UR RIGHT <3 think vernon really was born to be an artist <3 teehee

OK BUT THIS IS SO VALID OF U DFJKDFJKFJKFD svt club lich rally changed the trajectory of ur life im SOOO OBSESSED W THAT <3

thats what jihoon gets for being a hater tbh FJDJFDFJKDFD he wants to get out of there SOOO bad 😭 OH MY GOD HELP???????????????????? BC SAME 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 i think this is just infj things KJDFJKDFJKDFJK

NOOOOOOOOOO OF COURSE ANYTHING FOR U <3 i'm glad u got to watch!! also not u hitting post limit 😭 WHAT PROMPTED THIS FKJFFDFD also i know it's been days but i hear good food and my interest is piqued JFDKJDFKJD WHAT DID U EAT <3 AND WHAT IS UR FAVE FOOD <3 <3

yeah i was trying to get rid of the nerves then FDJJKFDKFJDKFJD ALSO THEY WENT REALLY WELL OMG <3 <3 this week has been hell for me though i wanna hibernate fr fr </3

ANYWAY HOW HAVE U BEEN <3 WHAT HAS BEEN UP <3 <3 I MISSED TALKING TO U SORRY I TOOK SO LONG TO RESPOND </3 felt like utter shit JKDFJFKDKJFD LOV U THANK U FOR STANDING BY ME NONETHELESS <3 <3 <3 I HOPE U GET ALL THE GOOD THINGS!!!!!!!!!!! MWAH

Cold Winds: The Door

She sighed and leaned against the street sign. “Wouldn’t do that,” she advised with minimal interest. The four men, Brass Blades given their uniforms, looked over at her and back at the door to the business they had come to raid for some inane or annoying reason. 

“T’fuck you know?” asked one of them after a moment’s confused silence. “This is a san-”

“Right, look, I don’t care,” she shrugged slightly. “Maybe the people in there are Really Bad Dudes, maybe they pissed in your porridge. Whatever. I’m just saying I wouldn’t do that.” 

The man who had addressed Illua spat on the street and motioned to his man. “Breach.” One of the Brass Blades lifted his shield in front of him and charged the door, smashing whatever feeble barricade was on the other side.

And tripping the trap. Glass shattered and smoke poured out on to the city streets. Before the Blades knew what was happening, a wave of force sent them flying across the street and three mages, robed in red and holding bone staves, emerged from the cloud.

“Doors and corners,” Illua shook her head as she watched the fight unfold. “Why do I bother? Savages are too fucking stupid to listen.” 

“Doors and corners,” she said, nearly a year previous. It was a note of caution to the team that, for better or worse, she was working with. “That’s where they get you.”

Agni sighed and buried her head in her hands. “And that means what, exactly?”

Compared to their more casual outfits at Equinox the night before, the four women were armed and armored on the Somnambulist this morning. Agni wore a red trenchcoat and fencing saber given her by their patron, Andromeda wore light chain armor in dark blue, Sasaca wore a black suit of heavy armor and a helmet that gave her rabbit ears. Only Illua dressed more or less the same, in light magitek-enhanced leathers. She did away with the pretense of the circlet though, letting her third eye be seen. 

“Doors and corners,” repeated the Garlean. “You can’t see around them, but your target knows you’re coming. Doors and corners are where you get ambushed. Doors and corners get people killed. Mind your doors and corners.”

“As I have never done this before, thank you for that insight, Triclops,” sniped Agni.

“Cool it,” Rommie chimed in. “Focus on the drop. If you don’t survive that, we won’t need to worry about doors or corners, will we?” 

Illua let out a held breath. Amateurs, all of them. But at least the purple one had a good point. In order to get to the gate itself they had to get into Snowcloak. The Somnambulist couldn’t land there with it’s bulk, and some natives might not take kindly to lowering a tactical team of four heavily-armed soldiers from a ship flying Ishgardian indigo. The solution to that problem was inspired, if equally absurd. They were going to jump from the deck into the morning sky. 

“When you begin your descent,” Iris explained to them on the ship’s deck, “you will need to deploy these specially-designed sails which you each have attached to your packs. They will capture the wind generated by Miss Isolde’s Veraero and allow you to glide safely toward your target. If you fail to deploy your sail, you will die. We will not be slowing down, we will not be deviating from our flight plan. If you jump too late and cannot fall into the Veraero jet stream, you will die. When the area is secured and automated defenses are off, set off the signal flare and Somnambulist will return for you.”

Descent. She made it sound so much more palatable than ‘leap to your doom and trust the terrorist’. Though, Illua couldn’t much complain. She was an assassin and spy. It wasn’t like she inspired a lot of trust.  So she did as was instructed. 

And to the terrorist’s credit, the wind spells actually worked. They were timed to catch the large canvas panels at the right point to break the speed of descent while still allowing the team to guide themselves closest to the ring. There was a reason this one wasn’t dead after all. But as reckless as this part of the plan was, it wasn’t the most insane step in the operation. Hell, even the next step actually working was a bigger gamble. 

The others went about ripping away the canvas panels from their bags. Illua didn’t bother. She tool a long and narrow piece of metal from her backpack and connected it to her belt and just discarded the pack. Most of what she needed would be on the other side of the door. 

Along with everything they had no idea about how to prepare for. 

She approached the ring and started to work, removing a panel. Remote activation was obviously not an easy matter, but being that she was trained in subterfuge, the concept of leading an attack against a foothold situation was something she was trained in. It was actually kind of nice that things still seemed to be working for a moment. It was lucky at this point, it meant they weren’t wasting their time. 

“Okay, now I need to...” she muttered and pressed a few switches and buttons. “Recognize Tesserarius Cadena pyr Febrii of the Thirteenth Legion. Emergency activation protocol.” She let go of the button and looked back at her team. “Not my real name,” she clarified. 

The ring crackled to life and the terminal that ‘Cadena’ operated began pulsing, at first slowly and then picking up steam. “Get on the platform, when this thing counts down the door opens.”

“Then what?” asked Sasaca, readying her axe. 

Illua grabbed the hunk of metal from her belt and unfolded it. As she did, it took the shape of a bow in her hands. “We get pulled by the ring into the lifestream and carried by wire through it into a platform inside the Castrum, where we’ll be returned to the physical world and all hell will break loose.”

Saca laughed. A hearty, warm, pirate’s laugh. “Good!”

The team took place inside the ring and with a flash of blue light, they emerged on the other side, in a large metal room with deactivated Deathclaws and Reapers clearly meant as some kind of hangar or staging area. And that’s when they heard it. 

A roar that shook the metal walls and rang through the Castrum.

“Doors and corners,” Illua grumbled and pulled arrows from a slot on her magitek bow. “It’s never easy.” 

< Cold Winds: The Mission | Cold Winds: The Nest >