#As much as she says she likes being a freak she still sort of desperately wishes she was normal

[goddammiteverythingstaken]

I would've thought fem!will would enjoy make up since she's an artist and it's such a creative thing! I see her doing some cool stuff 🥰 nail art too!

oooh I love the idea of her doing nail art

[mythicalmyles]

Can we get a masky/Tim x reader where he makes jokes about fuckin us but then he actually does it? Please

step father!tim x reader tims p much implied to be demonic of sorts

(reader met tim at 19 is currently 20)

(18+stomach bulging, daddy kink, dubcon, predator/prey(?), voyeurism, minor inflation, feminization )

Being home was usually a relaxing time for you, finally getting away from the stresses on university. Lately though your mum's husband had been setting you on edge, his hands seemed to linger whenever he touched you. He was also pretty gruff and sexual with his humour, most of his words leaving you flushed and fidgeting.

“You look good like that.” Was all Masky muttered after staring at you for five minutes. You had laid down on the floor, legs spread as you huffed and panted after a workout session. Before you could say anything he left the room.

You couldn't deny your mother had spoiled you from the moment she had been born, your belated father being a high paid agent. You had no idea what for but he was always gone and always came back black and blue. You had hardly knew him, the last time you had spoken must have been when you were seven and he called you an idiot for a B you had gotten.

You were indifferent when he died and you hadn't cared much when your mother did remarry, she was her own person and you could kick and scream or accept it. But her husband, your supposed step father was another issue. He had this creepy aura surrounding him, his eyes were always squinted and calculating. He stood almost a foot taller then you with rock hard muscles, you hadn't asked but assumed he worked in constructions. It was the only logical answer your brain could come up with, Tim seemed to like being alone. You did your best to not bump into him.

You couldn't deny your stomach turned whenever you caught him walking out of your fathers old study, your mother had never touched it after he passed.

Somehow every other time you've been showering he's walked in and you stood as frozen as a deer in headlights. He would grumble and walk back out after eyeing you from top to bottom.

You tapped your pen on your notebook, you had one last night to complete and you were done for the year. Instead your head swelled up with fog, eyes distorting text no matter how hard you concentrated. You were sat in your boxers and a loose shirt that still somehow clung to every inch of your torso, the heat of the sun unbearable.

You had barley even noticed Tim creeping up behind you, his hands dropping onto your shoulders had you jolting. Tim held you in place, his thumbs rubbing against the back of your shoulders. All you could do was sit still, red shooting up your neck and over your cheeks. You bit your lip when Tims hands moved to start playing with your nipples.

"You're moms away for a week." Tim's voice was deep and sent shivers up your spine. All you could do was squeak as he pulled your top up and putting it behind your head, pinning your shoulders back and pushing your chest out. "I thought about doing this the last time, but that bitch wouldn't leave." Before you could snap at him he appeared in front of you, grabbing your cheeks and squeezing hard as he held you close to his face.

"What did your dad do?" His eyes were blank and dark, your body beginning to shake as things finally fell into place. He never was here for your mother.

"I-d-don't know!" You choked out, fear flooding you as you looked him in the eyes. Desperately hoping he would understand that you knew nothing. Tim sighed hard, anger clouding his eyes. He barely missed a beat before ripping you off of your chair and slamming you over the counter, your legs trying to kick his torso. "St-stop it, you fre-freak." You groaned out, failing at moving him a single inch.

Tim pulled his belt off, wrapping it around your neck and using the excess to tie your hands up behind your head. Tim ignored your begging, latching onto one of your nipples, his teeth scraping the sensitive bud. You tried your best not to struggle, the belt choking you whenever you extended your arms. Tim let out an exhausted sigh as he stood over you, making you feel small as he glared down at you. "Of course he didn't tell you jack shit." His voice was deep and he sounded pissed.

"Well. We have a week." He suddenly grinned, his change in demeanour setting you on edge. His hands ran up your bare chest, stopping to thumb your nipples. He watched you as you bit your lip and squirmed, trying not to choke yourself and keep yourself silent. "C'mon pretty boy, I've heard you playing with yourself. You moan like a whore." You shook your head, not trusting your voice. Tim chuckled, dragging his hands back down to just above your boxerss. He dug his fingers into your flesh, focused on your shaky breathing.

Tim had your boxers around your thighs before you had time to comprehend what was going on, he wasted no time in pulling them off. He left you bare with only your shirt that was currently thrown behind your neck. You felt incredibly embarrassed under him, the cold counter pressing against your back. His still fully clothed form stood still, watching you wiggle.

He suddenly turned, making his way towards one of the cupboards and pulling out olive oil. He smirked back at you, dark eyes ringed with even darker bags. You felt like you were in a horror movie, just waiting for the big scary monster to snap you in half. "If you be a good boy for daddy, it wont hurt." You felt filthy when your cock twitched, already half hard.

You ignored the sound of him opening the oil and slicking his hands up, he made his way back between your thighs, easily lifting your legs with one arm and pinning them to your chest. "Please, I-I've never.." You blushed while trailing off, looking to the side and away from Tim as best as you could.

Tim's slippery fingers wrapped around your jaw, yanking your vision back to him. "I'll take real good care of you." His hand dropped from your jaw, quickly making its way to your hole. You shuddered as he circled your hole, lightly pressing his finger in and teasing you. You wanted to deny how good it felt, ignore the sirens in your head warning you of danger. It was getting harder to get your thoughts intact when he was sliding a second finger into you, you let out a loud groan as you curled your toes. Tim was rough, but he used a lot of oil. You could feel it running all over your skin, making it easier for Tim to slam his digits deep into you.

"Ah-sto-stop." You cried out when Tim began scissoring his fingers, it caused a sting to run up your spine. "Daddy's got you." Was all he said, his shark like grin looming over you. His fingers were thick and rough, you were grateful for the oil when he began roughly fingering you, leaving you squealing on your back.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, stomach burning as you felt your orgasm stirring. Tim smirked when he felt you clench harder around his digits, your eyes furrowed closed as you prepared yourself. Just as your high was about to come crashing into you, Tim pulled his fingers out.

You couldn't help but cry out in frustration, tears lining your eyes as you looked up at him in desperation. Tim used his last moment of restraint to get his jeans down and his cock out, your eyes bulging once you noticed his size. He was cock was thick and red, he must’ve been hard for a while. Before another thought could run through your head he wash pushing into you, despite his earlier stretching it still burned. It took everything for you not to sob as his cock finally pushed passed your rim. He paused once he had managed to bury half of his cock into you, he licked his lips his hands keeping your thighs up by your ears. He had you completely trapped. His belt dug into your skin, choking you occasionally when your body spasmed.

His fingers dug into tour thighs, his fingers leaving red, angry indents behind.

A scream was ripped from your throat when he suddenly bottomed out inside of you, your wide eyes staring up at the roof as you tried to catch your breath. It felt unbearable how much he filled you up, it felt like it should’ve been impossible with a cock that big. You took deep, sobbing breaths and jolted when Tim suddenly grabbed your face, forcing eye contact.

His hand moved down, wrapping around you neck and letting your leg drop to his shoulder. You let out a strangled gasp with the sudden movement, his cock rubbing against your prostate. Stars appeared in your vision, mouth dropping open in a silent scream when you realised his cock was going to rub up against your prostate with every thrust of his hips. He let your other leg fall to his shoulder, using his now free hand to land a harsh slap to your ass.

You yelped out, moaning loudly when Tim began picking up his speed. “Tell daddy how much you love his cock, be a good boy now.” There was something scary in Tim’s eyes, his face deadpan as he fucked you. “N-no, this is weird. You married m-my-.” He cut you off with a particularly hard thrust, he pulled you up by your neck. He forced you to look at the bulge in your stomach, the sight of his cock ramming into your guts had you sobbing. You couldn’t believe he had really managed to get all of it inside of you, it was inhuman. “M’sorry daddy.” You choked out, his hand not choking you too tight as you watched his cock ramming deep into you.

You could barley feel your own drool leaking out of your mouth, eyes rolled back as Tim assaulted your insides. “Da-daddy please.” You choked out, his cock rubbing against your prostate and sending sparks running throughout your body. You broke down, sobbing when Tim began fucking you at a deliriously inducing pace.

Tim felt himself coming close, the feeling of being wrapped up tight in your insides was driving him to the edge. The sight of you choking and crying, calling him ‘Daddy’ while he fucked you into the counter wasn’t helping. He almost felt feral seeing his cock stretch out your tummy, knowing no one could fuck you like he could. Tim felt himself growl, quickening his pace as he felt himself coming undone.

You could only explain it as being hit by a car, the feeling of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had washed over you, your nails digging into your own flesh as you wailed on Tim’s cock.

Flopped back against the counter gasping, Tim giving you a last few thrusts before cuming deep into you. The feeling of his cum flooding into you was almost intoxicating, mouth dropped as you watched your stomach expand to accommodate Tim’s load.

You felt like jelly, your body felt incredibly heavy as you tried to catch your breath. Tim continued slowly trusting into, watching you intently as his cum came dripping out of your ass. He pressed his hand onto your stomach, your sob causing his cock to twitch inside of you. Suddenly a ringing filled the room, Tim letting out a sigh before pulling his phone out of his sagged jeans. You felt yourself tuning out of the conversation when Tim began slowly thrusting into you, his soft cock still pushing against your prostate.

Suddenly Tim’s thrusts became sharp, your moans echoing the room along with the sound of skin slapping. “I’m just having some fun with Mr (L.Name)’s little son, he’s just the cutest little thing.” Tim roughly thrust into you, your choked out moans easily heard through the phone.

“You wanna play with daddy’s friends?” He smirked, his thrusts getting harsher. You sobbed and shook your head. “D-don’t you da-dare.” You tried to be firm, instead moans slipping out along with your words. Tim’s cock had hardened up again, dragging against your prostate. You could feel cum and oil dripping out of your sensitive hole, every thrust Tim gave seemed to pull out more. Suddenly he pulled out grabbing your hips and pulling you off of the counter. He shoved you over it, the marble cold against your nipples. “Wa-wait. Plea-please.” You sobbed out, two of Masky’s fingers back inside of you. Instead of answering he continued with his conversation on the phone. “I’ve already been here a year, i would’ve found it already.” Masky’s fingers were getting rough, four of them already stuffed into your puffy, abused hole.

Despite the burning pain of overstimulation you couldn’t help the moans that poured from your throat. You found yourself whining and sobbing as your hips twitched. Tim chuckled and untied you from his belt, throwing it of to the side and watching as your numbed arms fell to the counter. He pulled his fingers out, slapping your ass before pushing his thumbs into your hole and stretching it. “God, what a pretty pussy.” You whined at Tim’s words, you could hear voices suddenly speaking from Tim’s phone. You looked over only to sob out once you saw yourself on camera, Tim’s equally scary looking friends peering back at you.

Tim spat into your hole, pushing his thumbs deeper into your hole. You could feel your entire body shaking. “I got a pretty little cock slut here, she’s got a real cute pussy.” Your voice was high when you argued back, tears in your eyes. Instead you were met with a chorus of laughs.

“Should dress him up, get him in a skirt.” You tried not to react to the voice coming from the phone, instead you twisted your lips together. “This part of the deal then? We help you, you let us fuck cutie there?” Your eyes doubled, shooting to look back at Tim. “Yeah, if you want. He’ll be here. He’s nice ‘n weak.” You wanted to hate what they were saying, trying to pretend you weren’t close to cuming despite Tim’s now lazy pace. Their words had you involuntarily squeezing around Tims fingers are grinding yourself back against them, whining as you felt your nipples dragging across the marble. Images of rough hands playing with your nipples and ass had you spilling over, screaming as you came hard.

“Thats my good boy.” Tim smirked as he patted your ass.

[sage-nebula]

When The Owl House first came out, there was a lot of discussion surrounding how King could potentially be Bill, with the most common theory being that Bill had somehow been reincarnated into King by the Axolotl. After all, not only does Alex Hirsch voice both of them, but the voice he uses for King is very similar to the voice he uses for Bill. (Very similar, but not the exact same; apart from not having the voice distortion, King's voice is higher pitched. King's voice is basically Bill's voice before Bill hit puberty, lmao.) Apart from that, both King and Bill are demons; King had an obsession with ruling, power, and conquest; King has yellow sclera; and, well, people were desperate for connections between Gravity Falls and The Owl House, to the point where I actually did end up pretty annoyed for awhile that people weren't letting The Owl House stand on its own two feet and were instead treating it like a sequel show. (Though there are actual, canonical connections between them now, the most notable being that Eda married Stan for less than 24 hours in Vegas so that she could rob him blind, lmao. He still thinks fondly of her to this day, as he should.)

I bring this up because I never really subscribed to this theory, or thought very much of it . . . until now. It's not that I think the theory is more plausible now, but more that I think that the idea holds a sort of poetic beauty to it now, if it was true. (Which again, I don't think it necessarily is, but more that it's a nice "what if" to think about.) And the reason for that comes from information that we gained from The Book of Bill, along with additional information that we've now gained from the website, along with how King's story arc developed and played out in The Owl House. (So, spoilers for that show, the new book, and the website if you haven't kept up with any of that.)

Essentially:

It's been heavily implied for years now (to the point where, in my personal opinion, it was known, but to be safe I'm saying heavily implied) that Bill destroyed his home dimension. In the show, Bill says that he "liberated" his home dimension, and when he brings it up, there is fiery imagery around him that is similar to the rift that opens in the sky to link Gravity Falls to the Nightmare Realm during Weirdmageddon. Then, in one of the spinoff books, when Dipper asks the Axolotl about Bill, the Axolotl says, "Saw his own dimension burn [. . .] blame the arson for the fire." Considering that Bill said that he "liberated" his dimension with fire imagery, and the Axolotl says that he saw his dimension burn (and blames the arson, rather than the arsonist for the fire) . . . the conclusion can easily be drawn that Bill's "liberation" was actually "destruction." Which makes sense, when you remember what he wanted to do to Earth during Weirdmageddon.

Nonetheless, we have had that confirmed now thanks to The Book of Bill and the website. We know that when Bill tries to recant what happened to his dimension, there is a loud ringing in his ears and he blacks out; we know that he looks "more distant than [Ford] had ever seen him" when he tries to recount the story to Ford (implying dissociation; we know that he told his henchmaniacs the "liberation" story and that he freaks out when Time Baby tries to speak openly about what actually happened and who actually caused it; and we know that, during his therapy sessions in the Theraprism, when the therapist tries to turn the discussion to his parents, he shuts down discussion altogether. (And also only draws red and blue triangles during his art sessions, implying that may be what his parents looked like.)

So we know that: Bill destroyed his own dimension, that he's the sole survivor of the massacre, that he was severely traumatized by this (because he didn't intend to massacre his entire people, he honestly was trying to help them see what he could see -- the third dimension) and that he just handled his trauma in the worst possible way, particularly since he did not have anyone left to give him a support system. A billion years without a proper support system or any form of healing, sinking further and further into denial, rationalization, and detachment (outlined on Bill's page on morality as his tools of the trade), lying until his lies were no longer lies to himself, made Bill into the monster he is today.

But then the Pines family defeated him (thanks to Stan), he invoked the name of the Axolotl, and got sent to the Theraprism. He hates it there, and he is so deeply entrenched in the lies-he-no-longer-recognizes-as-lies that he is not making any progress. As Alex said at one of the Barnes & Noble Q&As, what Bill really needs is to actually be honest with himself, but it's unknown if he will ever be able to do that. Until he can do that, the hope of him actually making progress at the Theraprism is nil.

But here is the thing about the Theraprism. Well, here are the two things about the Theraprism:

The first is that we are told that the Theraprism is a place specifically devoted to reincarnation. The reason why the "King is reincarnated Bill" theory was popular before was mostly due to the reasons I mentioned above, but also because of another line in the Axolotl's poem: "A different form, a different time." People understood this to mean reincarnation, and it's easy to see why. But for me personally, I always found it a bit strange that the Axolotl would simply let Bill reincarnate simply by calling out for help. Would that really be all it took for the Axolotl? True, the Axolotl is the god of this universe, and Jesus (from how I understand it) is all about "accept me as your savior and you're immediately absolved of all sins," but I also felt that was just too easy of a Get Out of Death Free card for Bill. It was a very clean getaway, considering everything.

But The Book of Bill makes it evident that isn't the case. As it is described by the Theraprism employee in the book:

"Here at the Theraprism, we believe death can be the beginning of a new life. With good behavior, former wizards, world-eating titans, and even Mr. Cipher have many exciting options for reincarnation -- perhaps as a newt, shrimp, or a cloud of fungal spores!"

The Axolotl also made this clear to Bill (though Bill misunderstood entirely:

"You cannot regrow through denial. You'll have to face my hardest trial. See my program to the end, then you may yet live again. You're getting what you need the most; one way to absolve your crimes, to change your form will take some time."

Now, many of you are probably thinking: a baby titan from the Boiling Isles is a huge leap from newts, shrimp, and fungal spores. I would agree with you; it seems that the Theraprism does tend to pick very lowly life forms for the big bads they rehabilitate to reincarnate into. But here are the reasons why I think it would be poetic if it were King, and therefore why I like to think that it would be nice if this were the case:

Like Bill, King is the last of his kind. Unlike Bill, this is through no fault of King's own; the other titans were wiped out before King even hatched, and King's father had to hastily inscribe runes to protect him from the titan hunters (or archivists?) so that they couldn't find and kill him as well by destroying his egg. Nonetheless, King is the sole survivor of a genocide and this is something that weighs heavily on him and influences his character arc in a big way in the second half of the show. The fact that he doesn't know what he is lends struggle to him trying to discover who he is. Yes, he's in a family of misfits, but Eda and Luz know what they are and who they come from. King doesn't have that. King has no basis for what he is, or why he was abandoned -- none of it. And then when he does finally start to get answers, it's to learn that his people were massacred in a genocide; that there are people still out there who want to kill him; that he is going to grow to be a deity-like figure, that he'll outlive those he loves . . . King is a child of about eight-years-old, but he has so, so much weighing on him already.

But where Bill accidentally destroyed his dimension and killed everyone in it, and then was crushed under the weight of that trauma because he was left alone and covered in blood, King did have that family of misfits to support and love him through it all. He was still burdened by the fact that he didn't know what he was or where he came from, but Eda, Hooty, Luz, and eventually Lilith gave him unconditional love and a home and support to figure all of that out, to the point where it was King's idea to be formally adopted by Eda and change his name to King Clawthorne. And while he will eventually outlive them all, he made a friend in The Collector who is also immortal, so he'll never be truly alone.

Essentially, what I'm getting at here is: there are parallels in Bill's and King's story, now that we know Bill's backstory. They aren't the exact same, especially since King was not responsible for what happened to the other titans. But there are still parallels that can be made. But whereas things ended as badly as they could possibly end up for Bill, King's story had a much better ending. So if we imagine that Bill was reincarnated as King, then it is almost like he got a do-over. Like he was put in a similar situation, but this time he was found by a new adoptive mother who raised him with love and care, and got an adoptive big sister, and owl tube house mate, and aunt, as well as a ton of friends. He suffered trauma, but this time he didn't have to suffer it alone, and was able to handle it in a much better, much healthier way. Yes, he's an all-powerful demon (or at least, he will be someday, when he grows into an adult). But this time he isn't going to be causing any apocalypses, or delighting in any mortal suffering. This time, things are going to be different for him, because his soul completed the Axolotl's program in the Theraprism and he was able to reincarnate for that second chance.

(And if you're thinking, "But The Owl House doesn't take place that long after Gravity Falls, so how is that possible?" Well, the Theraprism exists outside of time and space, so it doesn't matter how many millennia it takes for Bill to complete the program. He literally has all the time in the multiverse.)

So I'm on board with this theory now. Again, I do not think it's canon. But it's a nice idea, and one that I think has a poetic sweetness to it. No one has to agree, of course, but that's just my take on it.

[flowercrowngods]

It’s obnoxious, the way Munson sits on the table, legs swinging a little too fast, a little too much purpose behind the motion. Steve zeroes in on it, the movement of his thighs, black denim pulled tight in one second, then going loose the next. It’s hypnotising. Mesmerising. Calming, in a weird sort of way.

“So,” Eddie drawls the word, again with too much purpose, and all this sudden purpose Eddie spills around him so carelessly like he expects Steve to know what to do with it, with him, with himself, is overwhelming and frustrating. It takes him out of his hypnosis. His eyes snap to Munson’s, and he’s reeling a little too much still to know what it is Eddie will find on his face now.

Whatever it is, it makes him still. He quiets down. Everything about him is gone so suddenly it makes Steve blink hard, trying to regain his footing and not think about how gone Eddie really is. A while from now. In a different dimension. Bloodied and pale and so, so still.

The world fades a little bit, or maybe it’s just Steve who does, but something fades. It gets a little easier to hear, so long as he doesn’t have to be or feel or react.

Maybe this was a mistake.

“You don’t usually buy from me,” Eddie says through the cotton-like fog, and Steve zeroes in again. “You don’t usually buy, period.”

It’s like the guy is trying to read Steve. He lets him. He’s sort of dying to find out something real about him anyway.

“But that changed, hasn’t it? Breaking up with Wheeler got you bad, eh?”

Steve feels the frown on his face before he can think to react, and he shakes his head — against the accusation and against the images in his head, against the guilt, against the knowledge that Nancy is dead and he isn’t, and that she died a hero and that he wouldn’t. Ever. He’ll just die a coward.

“No? Alright, big guy, whatever you say, but don’t think I don’t remember finding you the other day cracked outta your mind so hard you couldn’t even walk anymore, and when I came back because I’m nice like that, you were gone. That’s not being sober, that’s not very never doing drugs of you if you ask me.”

For a second there, Steve had forgotten just how much he really doesn’t like Eddie Munson. The guy’s a nuisance and just really, really annoying.

But this is also the longest anyone has spoken to Steve since— since before. And there’s something addictive about it.

Maybe he doesn’t need the drugs. Maybe he just needs someone to talk to him like he’s a real person.

But Eddie’s still staring at him, still trying to figure him out, and Steve knows he should move, he should fidget, probably, or run his hand through his hair and lose the haze that veils his eyes and crack a smirk at Eddie and just. Do anything that a real person would do.

But he can’t. He can only stand, only stare, only catch a thought or two as they race by him at record speed and hope desperately that the thought isn’t Eddie, his pale skin ripping open with lethal wounds, his voice gurgling as he chokes on his own blood and doesn’t even have the strength to cough anymore.

His hands are shaking. That’s something real at least.

“Hey, woah, shit, there’s no need to— God, man, it’s cool, we’re cool, I won’t tell anyone or some shit, you gotta— Harrington, you gotta calm down.”

Eddie’s off the table in record speed, bringing some distance between them but still looking like he wants to approach Steve with raised hands.

“I’m calm,” he says, not understanding.

“You’re having a fuck-damn panic attack or something, man.”

What? No, he doesn’t— Oh.

“Oh.”

He’s on the floor, and his cheeks are wet. He can’t breathe. His brain doesn’t even catch up, his body

“Yeah, fucking oh, man. It’s cool, you’re, uh, you’re safe? I mean. I’m safe? I won’t tell. I’ll give you what you need if this is your withdrawal, I don’t wanna— Shit, man, what the fuck.”

Eddie is freaking out. It’s surreal. Steve has no idea if he’s still panicking. He must be, because he can’t feel his hands. He’s getting dizzy and his chest hurts. It’s okay. It’ll pass.

“It’s okay,” he says, knowing somehow that his voice shouldn’t sound like this. He’s not a real person anyway. “You can go if you wanna.”

Eddie shakes his head, bewildered, absolute disbelief in every one of his features, so loud even in his silence, and Steve prefers this. The obnoxious loudness. Even when he says nothing.

“What the fuck, Harrington.”

It’s all he says before approaching him, sitting down right opposite Steve, knees drawn to his chest in a mirror position, their feet’s almost touching. Eddie looks scared. Or worried.

Steve frowns. There’s no air in his lungs to ask, though, and he remembers that he needs to breathe. Feels that his lungs are screaming for it and that somewhere beneath the fog and the cotton, his brain is screaming at him, his body clawing at its confines to break free and breathe.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Eddie decides, looking at him so intensely, Steve feels somehow invited to look back. To look as long as he can, before he sort of stops processing anything again and tries not to remember how Eddie looks when he knows he’s about to die.

Those terrified eyes trained on him. They have seen nothing yet.

Eddie starts talking at some point — running his mouth, really, but Steve can’t hear him. It’s nice, though. He finds himself staring up at the darkening sky at some point, his head nestled on cold, wet leaves and damp soil. Eddie’s still talking, still looking at him. Steve tries not to panic that he lost it again, that the day has somehow passed without him.

He looks over, meeting Eddie’s eyes, and catching something that looks like a relieved smile as he stumbles over his words and then stops altogether.

“Hey,” is what he settles on at last.

Steve smiles, a frail little thing, but Eddie doesn’t need to know that.

“Thank you,” he says. And then, because he’s speaking and there’s no fog this time and no blood and no screams, he keeps talking. “For this. And, uh, for that night, y’know, where you wanted to help me. You did, actually, I was just… I never thanked you. So, yeah. Thanks.”

Eddie shrugs, and it’s a little awkward with the angle he’s looking at Steve at. “I didn’t really do shit.”

“You did more than you know,” Steve says, and that’s when the blood comes back. The screams. The fog and the emptiness and the hollow feeling in his chest where he knows there once resided the feeling of It’s going to be okay.

Eddie pauses, and Steve fades. He asks something, but Steve can’t hear him. He gets up, knowing that if he won’t, he’ll stay here all night. Turn into a tree again. Be nothing at all.

He walks away, leaving Eddie behind, and in the parking lot he finds Hopper’s car, the engine running, and then his cheeks are wet again.

Hopper pulls him into a hug, and Steve leans into it. Wants to tell him that he’s fine, that he’s not a tree, that he’s not a person either but something in between but that he’s okay and sorry for worrying him. But the words don’t come, and it is what it is.

“Munson okay?” Hopper asks when Steve pulls away from their embrace, and something about Hopper knowing exactly what to ask him is so vulnerable. But it makes him feel good, too. Like he’s not dumb for it. For the way he’s checking up on them. On all of them. Even Eddie.

“He’s fine.”

“Good,” Hop says, starting the engine. “There’s pasta for dinner.”

[radiant-reid]

The Right Person

request:

things spencer would say to his ex who’s his ex but not really his ex bc their hearts always belong to the other but is actually his ex bc they called it quits but just bc it’s over doesn’t mean it’s really over cuz he’s just: last slide

Summary: Right person, wrong time... at least until there's a part two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (angst, sort of)

Content Warning: a tiny spicy moment

Word Count: 3.3k

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Spencer has always jumped into things too quickly. It's the cocktail of being a romantic, coming from a broken home, failing with most social relationships, and the desperate need for a family.

So when Y/n came along, all smiles and beauty, he moved too fast. Fell is probably a more accurate verb. He fell in love so quickly without any logic that he couldn't help proposing a year in and marrying her six months later.

She offered him support and unconditional love. And for the first time in a tough five years in the FBI, he felt like the world wasn't completely terrible.

The whirlwind relationship would have been much better if taken slowly. It might have even worked out. With their fast pace, neither of them could keep up and after four years, trying to make it work wasn't worth it. The therapy, fights, and long periods without speaking wasted time and drained them both emotionally.

It was like fire. Hot and heavy or warm and comforting, but they were destined for a burn.

Sure, they loved each other more than anything, and they would forever argue that they're soulmates and the timing was at fault.

When Beatrice was nine months old, it was clear things wouldn't, so for her sake, Spencer moved out, the fighting stopped, and they could be friends.

For three months, they've been doing well with their co-parenting routine. Since Spencer had spent so much time away during their marriage, Y/n didn't have to get over the feeling of loss.

Maybe some of that could be accounted for by the fact it still felt like they were dating, the magnetism between them still volatile.

It's Saturday when Y/n's baking in the kitchen. She's yet to enquire about selling it, probably because they're yet to properly get divorced. Somehow, it doesn't feel weird for her to live in their marital home. She ignores how little it feels like they're broken up, especially when she's eagerly anticipating him coming home back from a case. He's not even coming to see her, but she's changed out of her pajamas and put makeup on.

"Guess who?" A voice says while the matching fingers block her vision.

If she didn't know that voice like the back of her hand, she would have freaked out. "You're so close to losing your key, Spencer Walter Reid."

He pulls his hands away, resting his back against the bench with his body facing her. "Boring answer. I would have accepted sexy ex or the smartest man alive." He says, smiling his perfect wide smile.

He looks good, a golden glow still surrounding him, and his shirt fits him tightly around his muscles. She's allowed to say that as his eventual ex-wife, right? It's more of a compliment to herself for attracting attractive, intelligent men. That's how she justifies it anyway.

"Who's been inflating your ego, loser?" She teases.

Repartee of their level is something no one else could ever offer him, and he cringes when other people try. "Jealous?" He asks.

Yes, she is. She'd love to shower him with compliments. Tell him about how nice his hair looks a little bit longer, how he should wear more light blue because it really is his color, how good he smells, and some less innocent things as well. The jealousy boils in her at the thought of someone else doing that. Still, she resists.

"That someone else has to vacate the bathroom for hours each day so you can do your hair? No." She lies. It's a lie on all levels.

Unimportantly, he doesn't spend that long in the bathroom, and he's about the furthest thing from a narcissist there is, but deeply, she would jump at the opportunity to be locked out of the bathroom while he spends far too long in the shower and be greeted with the gorgeous sight of a towel wrapped around his hips and his chest showing.

"Okay." He lets it go, and it annoys her that he won't believe the time. "Can I have some cookie dough?"

"Say please." She directs.

He pouts too much like Beatrice. "Please." He complies before opening her mouth.

She frowns, unsure if he seriously wants her to hand-feed him cookie dough. The answer is yes because he doesn't shut his mouth and tell her it's a joke. She scoops some up, putting her fingers into his mouth. He doesn't let them sneak out without wrapping his lips. It's suggestive, and it doesn't disgust her.

"You'll get salmonella." She tells him when he finally lets her fingers out of his mouth. She tries not to blush like mad while she wipes her fingers on a kitchen towel.

"You'll have to look after me then," Spencer says, justifying it. "As the person who gave it to me."

She shakes her head. "Gross."

"Why are you baking on a Saturday?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at her. He's suspicious whenever things change in her behavior, more so than anyone else's.

"I'm anticipating being busy tomorrow." She answers ambiguously.

It was on purpose, but the goal wasn't to make him curious and ask more questions. She just wasn't jumping at the opportunity to hear his opinion on her love life.

Unfortunately, his curiosity peaked when she started speaking. "Why?" She mumbles out an answer that he doesn't catch. "Come on, don't be shy."

"I'm going on a date." She says finally, avoiding looking at him.

That knocks him off guard, the smile slipping from his face as he steps back. Quickly, he forces himself to say something recoverable to hide the hurt and shock he's feeling at the unexpected news. "Does he know you're married?"

He knows he has no right to be upset about it. Not only are they not exclusive, but they're, in no way, romantically involved. It's why there's no bite in his words, nothing vicious in his tone.

It hits him harder with every passing second. Her statement is something he never expected, and questioning why that is while standing in the middle of their kitchen with her in a beautiful new top, yeah, it's gut-wrenching.

She holds up her bare left hand, shed of a wedding ring. "He doesn't, no."

"What's his name?" Spencer asks next. There are a million questions on his mind, but he keeps the conversation casual.

"Bradley."

She feels guilty for it, unsure if it's cheating guilt or mom guilt, and she's forced to constantly remind herself that it's okay, she's allowed to say yes when she gets asked out and be swept away by someone else.

His next move, to her, seems predictable. Whenever he's looking for more information, he stays quiet, waiting for her to feel awkward enough to elaborate. Even though she used to read him like an open book, she can't see that he's processing, replaying their worst moments-the moments that led them here- in his head.

She keeps talking, annoyed that his old trick is working when really she's just breaking his heart more. "He's a defense attorney, but he accidentally took my coffee the other day."

Spencer resists the urge to scoff because 'accidentally.' He's seen Morgan use the move a hundred times: pretend to mix up the coffees, apologize, and seal the deal by asking if he can make it up to her. "Switching teams, I see." He interrupts, predominantly so that he doesn't have to hear anything else. "And a new top." He mentions. Again, a tactic to get her to stop talking. "What color is it? It would look really nice as a feature wallpaper."

He does that, too, only complimenting things adjacent to her. Talking about fucking interior design instead of just saying she looks nice pushes her buttons, and she knows where his are.

"Yeah, I was wearing a jacket in a similar color, so I'm hoping it's a subliminal message." She admits. "Plus he's tall and very attractive.”

Spencer wants to scream something along the lines of 'I'm 6'1, I have three PhDs, you've told me I'm handsome after you held my hair up while I puked after drinking far too much, and I'm so goddamn in love with you,' but he can barely admit the last fact to himself.

"So he's got brown curly hair and sparkling brown eyes?" Spencer teases her, and she rolls her eyes. That dumb eidetic memory would never let him forget the descriptors she'd given him, and his cocky attitude would never stop mentioning it. "It's not your fault you have a type. Scientifically-"

"Shh." She requests, pressing her finger to his lips.

Without thinking about it, like it was second nature, Spencer purses his lips and kisses her skin. After letting it linger for a moment, she takes it away and turns back to what she's doing.

Again, he draws her attention back to him, cupping the cheek furthest away from him and turning her face to look at him. Once she is, eyes locked on his, he holds her other cheek. He steps forward so that he's so close to her that her breath gets trapped in her throat.

Those fingers on her skin make her feel things she shouldn't be feeling, and her heart starts to thump in her chest when she sneaks a glance at those beautiful veins. Maybe her skin is hot or maybe his fingers are just cold but the contrast sends shivers all over her. It's hard not to think about all the times they've been inside her or how they look wrapped around his cock as he lines himself up with her sex.

"Y/n, if he lays a hand on you, I swear to god." He says threateningly, and it would worry her if she didn't know him so well and if it wasn't so hot.

"You don't believe in god." She calls him out, raising her eyebrows in challenge.

"I can find anyone, anywhere." She can't debate that. "And if he lays a hand on you, I'll kill him or put him in jail for the rest of his life. Your choice."

He's acting like he's doing her a favor, letting her decide how he'll hurt someone who hurts her. It's an odd declaration to be making, contradictory to every bit of his sweet nature, and she doesn't hate it.

"What if I ask- beg for it?" She questions him.

"Oh, I'm not worried about that." He's really not.

He would do immoral things that would make him lose his job and even go to jail if someone hurt her, but the deep feelings he's disgusting as an overprotective bravado against someone assaulting her is really just because he can't stand the thought of someone else being with her.

He's not worried about it sexually. She might be anticipating not being home for the night, but she's not the type to ask a first date to get rough with her. What's got him on edge is her being someone else's emotionally. They might be telling everyone they're not together, but if her heart belongs to someone else, there's no chance of him getting her back, and that's all he wants.

His lips are so close that she could kiss him, but the magnetism makes it challenging to resist. She yearns for the feeling of warm lips against hers, more specifically, the pretty pink ones she's peeking at.

They've had slips before. It's been three weeks since their last one. Every time, she swears she won't do it again, but she's ready to tear his clothes off and fuck him in the kitchen.

She's daring him to make that dangerous leap, and he's about to.

The cries of a woken-up one-year-old through the baby monitor snap them back into a harsh reality before their lips can touch. They both wonder if it's horrid that they forgot why he's there. Spencer lingers for a moment with her face in his hands before he breaks away from her painfully.

"I'll go." He says, leaving her standing there stunned with cheeks hot and a pounding heart.

She has a moment to recover, but it's not enough, and soon Spencer's back in the room with the sweetest baby in his arms. She's giggling, clinging to her dad, who she loves dearly. If Y/n didn't love Beatrice wholeheartedly, she'd be jealous she wasn't enough for Spencer to spend time with. But she can't be. Not when Bea has the greatest dad in the entire world, and she deserves every inch of his love.

"Kiss momma." Spencer directs, holding her up to Y/n's cheek.

She plants a kiss that's mostly saliva on her mom, and despite how messy it is, it makes Y/n grin. "How'd you sleep, baby?" She asks, knowing they'll be no reply. Her vocabulary is limited to three words: mom, dad, and love.

"Not so well last night," Spencer answers like it was intended for him.

He sits on a bar stool at the kitchen island, sitting Bea in his lap. "Spencer," Y/n warns, glaring at him.

"Your mom's mad at me." He stage-whispers to Bea. "I never know why."

"Should we start with lying to a child?" She wonders, but it's playful, not insulting. "Add in some pesky comments."

Spencer pouts, holding Bea up so she can see it and copy her father. "Oh, she loves them." He assures her. "And I love you. So much."

Y/n smiles in adoration. He might be difficult to be in love with, but he's the best dad ever. Spencer catches her staring, it's pretty obvious when the bowl of cookie dough sits abandoned on the counter.

"You look so similar." She says, trying to prevent the awkward since and slightly too romantic looks.

"Need another one to look like you?" He jokes, or maybe it's an offer. She can't really tell.

She scoffs, shaking her head. "I'm alright, thanks."

"But she's so perfect." He coos, her entire hand holding his pinky finger. "How could you not want another one?"

She chuckles at his baby fever. It is practically impossible to not want another child when theirs is so incredible, but they're only masochistic towards each other.

"Don't go getting random girls pregnant, Spencer." She jokingly advises him.

“I’m only ever going to get one girl pregnant.” He tells her.

He’s messy. In fact, they’re messy together, and he can’t keep his dick in his pants, but it’s not a problem he has with anyone else.

"That's possibly very nice." She says, frowning as she tries to figure him out.

"You're lucky." He rephrases.

She laughs, shaking her head. "You're lucky I don't kick you out now."

"Whoa, I get it." He teases. "It's someone's time to get lucky, hang a sock on the door and all that."

"I highly doubt you got any in college." She reminds him.

"Or now." He adds.

It should be weird. Who casually discusses sex with an ex?

"Yeah, I noticed one of your hands seems stronger than the other." She quips, although there's no discernable difference. They're both equally delicious.

"Mm, reminds me, I need more lotion." He mentions, playing along with the joke. "Vanilla, right?"

She fake-gags. "That's literally disgusting." She chides. "Do not go and get the same lotion I have to jack off."

He shrugs casually. "It's a free country."

"You're disturbing." She reiterates, reminding herself he said it to get her flustered.

"Don't flirt with me like that, or I might start thinking you like me." He warns, fluttering his eyelids at her.

She does feel like she's falling in love all over again with him when it's all flirting and comfortable.

"You'd be begging if I was flirting." She assures him, and it's true. Spencer begs like no one else.

"Alright, I think that's time to go." He decides, clicking his tongue and looking at Bea again. "Your mom's too into me for her own good."

That is hitting the nail on the head. She's into him and she always will be, but it's not wise, and it compromises her self-respect time and time again.

He gets up, bouncing Bea on his hip and walking around the bench. She leans forward to kiss her happy baby before playing with her soft hair. "Just admit you lost, Spencer." She tells him.

A little grin lights up his features as he refuses to comply with her directions. "I never lose." Oh, except for his one true chance at happiness and a family with the most remarkable woman in the world.

"Those beautiful big brains." She coos, moving her hand to his hair to part his curls properly.

"I'm sure yours are equally, if not more, beautiful." He says, once again making her stomach slip with the eye contact. "Smaller of course."

She scoffs out a laugh. "Bye." She says. "Her bag's in the hall."

"When do you want her back?" Spencer asks, holding the baby up so her cheeks can be kissed an obscene amount of time.

Their custody arrangement is nonexistent. With Spencer's hectic schedule and their good relationship, there's never been a need to make it official. Bea's always his priority when he's in the District, and that keeps Y/n happy.

Not fully happy. She'd like to see Bea, and her dad, every day, and she's too far from that with the latter Reid to ever be completely satisfied with her life. Months later, she's still convincing herself she can one day not look at him and wish for something unrealistic.

"Whenever." She says. They start walking towards the front door, slowly, both lingering and dragging it out. "If you need to go, you can bring her back."

"If you're in the middle of a date?" He wonders cheekily, grabbing Bea's bag from the floor.

She glares at him, not finished with her sentence. "Otherwise, I'll text you."

"Call." He insists. "We're not texting people."

"Fine." She agrees, swinging open the door. She takes Bea into her arms, giving her a tight hug. "Love you, sweet baby."

"Mom, love," Bea mumbles back, placing her hands on Y/n's cheeks.

Spencer gets the sinking feeling in his chest that he always gets leaving, but it's worse when he's taking Bea, who's Y/n's entire world. It makes him feel nauseating amounts of guilt. How can he be okay with putting her through the loneliness of a house that big being empty?

He smiles at her as he takes Bea back. "Thank you."

She not sure what for and she doesn't have a chance to ask before he's walking out the door, strapping Bea in her car seat. She waves at her mom, looking as happy as always.

Spencer stops before he gets in his seat. "Y/n?"

"Yeah?" She asks, straightening up her posture.

She's hoping he'll say what she wants to hear, although she doesn't know what that is. A Spencer fact would keep things simple, but saying something about how they can get back on track, that she shouldn't go out tonight, would ruin their carefully stacked house of cards.

"He's a lucky guy." He says, and it kills him to know that it used to be him taking her out, watching her grin from across the table, making her laugh until she's begging him to stop, driving home with his hand on her thigh, watching her take off her makeup and become more beautiful, and ending up cuddling in bed, their baby just a room over.

And he can't ever have that again, not with her, and he can't fathom it with someone else.

Y/n goes back inside once he's driven away, hoping for once, after he leaves, that she can not think about him.

It doesn't work. As always, she's stuck thinking about Spencer.

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[weirdthinkingdragon]

Obsession of Kamisatos

Can you guys imagine a friendly you coming to visit for a few weeks after Inazuma was opened to other places after the vision hun decree was over, and having the Kamisato siblings and their housekeeper grow obsessed?

You all can fight me on this (doubt it though because it’s most possible), but Thoma latches on quick. Obviously being the first to also meet you. Him somehow being able to show you a bit around Inazuma from having a bit of free time, and your little playful clips back at whatever he says already was enough to drag him into starting to be obsessed. 

Days go by and the two of you made it a thing to meet up at one point of his day he has free. it just gets worse and he starts slipping a few times around Ayaka and Ayato about you. 

That draws Ayaka’s attention, making her want to meet you. Because who in the world is making him even more naturally smiley and happy than he already was? 

At first it was rather awkward meeting her, but with the help of Thoma on both ends, you and Ayaka quickly become surprisingly good friends. 

It’s like 2 dogs seem to start following you around whenever possible. Lingering touches, especially on your lower back became very common with Thoma. Unfortunately for them, they do still have their responsibilities to take care of. You’ve caught some stares and glares, but nothing bad ever seems to really happen to you. One person who shoved you rather harshly while walking past once never seemed to be seen again. A rumor was they fled Inazuma for some sort of misconduct not accepted by the Kamisato clan. And no one questioned it. 

That leads to Ayato. He helped do it only because Ayaka was so adamant what that person did was wrong. He knows it isn’t the whole truth and eventually figures it out. That leads him into knowing he has to meet you. He has to make sure you’re not a threat to him or his sister. 

At first, Ayato was heavily guarded because usually such kind people around him had ulterior motives. That guard goes down though the more you seem confused of his sharp tongue that would be able to pick apart pretty much anyone guilty of something. 

He was still in the process of becoming obsessed when you told the three of them you’re leaving in a week. The panic in Thoma’s expression for a second was alarming even to you. 

The two try to lengthen your stay the next few days by even offering to let you stay with them, which weirds you out, but that’s fine. Maybe it’s just an Inazuma thing? after all, usually people who tried to leave didn’t exactly make it out. 

Their desperation slightly gets to Ayato, and he finally falls to the obsession when you awkwardly pat his shoulder when he was in a rather stressful situation. In the most bizarre way, it helped. But then he craved your touch. 

He starts having you be dragged everywhere, even to his meetings with Thoma not far behind. They have a mutual shared understanding of their obsession in that moment, and Ayaka wills it. She’s so happy there’s someone around now to make Ayato more truly happy, AND Thoma. Better yet, she knows they’re willing to share you! 

The day comes for you to leave, but you find out you can’t. Your travel documents have been denied? That makes you freak out. You’re sure they were fine before! After all, how else would you have gotten to Inazuma? 

Ayato and Thoma come up and say they have plenty of room with them until you can figure it out. They each carry a luggage of yours. Ayato on your left, carrying it in his left, and interlocking his right hand with your left hand. Thoma on your right and again having his arm on your lower back. 

little do you know just how... permanent the stay is to be. 

[shydroid3000]

OOO for the death note ask game, turning this back on you. 4, 7, and 23, again though you can pick a current favorite moment (lolol. indecision makers 😔😔) or just gimme some general misa thoughts if you’ve got em 👀

4. who’s your favorite underrated or obscure character? Okay, I'm gonna do my best to pick one that isn't too obvious, so: Sidoh! Haha. He's a weird little loser guy of a Shinigami and I love that. When he takes the notebook and touches it to the head of the one mafia guy while saying, "tag, you're it!"... or when he gets freaked out by Mello even though he himself is a literal god of death... I just find it very delightful. He's silly and pathetic in a way that really tickles my fancy lol. (The anime is much fresher in my mind so most of what I refer to will be anime-focussed; can't remember how manga version compares to anime with him). 7. was misa just as guilty as light? Ooh, guilt in relation to Misa and Light is interesting to think about. On the one hand, I do think that they're both culpable for their actions at the end of the day. I have maybe some more grace to extend Misa in terms of her having an understandable reason to go down that path, what with her parents being murdered (and almost being murdered herself). Like, that's a level of trauma that makes you go, 'yeah, I can understand why she was all-in on killing criminals with the death note, even if I don't agree.' Light, on the other hand, had this good, stable, pretty privileged home life, in addition to him being a top student, talented, handsome, etc. He's got less of an excuse, you know? The fact that Misa's drawn to Kira's ideals out of lived trauma, whereas Light is drawn to those ideals largely out of ego is sort of a meaningful distinction. (By ego I don't just mean the belief that he's exceptional, but I mean -- the way he is so desperately driven to protect his conception of himself as a Good Person. That's a tragic and heart-rending manifestation of ego, but it's still about protecting his ego). But I also think there's 'guilt' on the level of the actions and choices you make regardless of motivations, and I'd see them as more equal on that front. Misa was an enthusiastic DN user and participant in Kira's plans/ideology. She's motivated by different things than he is, but she makes her choices knowingly. I think it would be diminishing of her agency and complexity to say that she's less responsible for her actions than Light is, if that makes sense. (Also, there are things Misa is guilty of that Light isn't, and vice versa. E.g., Misa pushes Light's boundaries in a way that can be very uncomfortable; Light uses Misa/others without real regard for them).

Now, beyond all that... the question is obviously about their culpability for their use of the DN. But it also makes me think about each of their *experiences* of guilt internally, and that might be even more interesting to me. I think that their relationship to guilt is one of the things that makes them so divergent from one another. Because... running away from guilt is such a huge part of what propels Light to go all out with the Kira thing. So much of his psyche is shaped around that black pit of guilt where whispers of "I did a bad thing. If I did a bad thing I'm not a good person" come from. He diligently tries to cover over that and barricade it off. He crafts an ideology that makes his murders righteous, and commits to making a New World(tm) where the meaning of 'good/right' is reshaped around that. He makes himself a God so that his actions are beyond judgment, or at least he is, because his murders are divine - they're acts of creation, even of love and self-sacrifice. And then Misa... well, guilt doesn't seem to be as obvious a factor for her, whether as motivation or reaction. I mean, I could imagine a reading where there's some well of underlying guilt about the death of her parents and her survival -- I think that would make sense given the circumstances. But... we never actually see that kind of Bruce Wayne -esque psychology peeking through, so that feels more like headcanon territory than direct analysis. Obviously she has deep feelings about the murder of her parents, but she has a very different relationship to guilt than Light. She usually comes across as very free from guilt. She knows what she wants and what her priorities are, and she pursues those without shame. She's impressed by Kira so she becomes the second Kira; she decides she loves Light and wants to be with him regardless of whether he even likes her, so she pursues that undeterred by his response to her. It feels like Misa is always calmly pushing forward toward what she wants, whereas Light's sprint forward towards his New World is really a running-away-from. But at the same time... what kind of underlying emptiness would make someone so completely devotional in the way Misa is, wanting to devote themselves to someone who mostly loathes them, to the point of not even seeming to be hurt by that person's disdain for them as long as they can still have that person in their life? I think there's definitely beneath-the-surface stuff with Misa, but it comes across like guilt is a colour that just doesn't exist in her world. Whereas with Light, every shadow in his world is the colour of guilt. If goodness or righteousness are the rays of the sun, Light Yagami is the moon that reflects the sunlight while trying to create a reality in which those rays are his -- are him -- a reality in which he becomes the sun. And yet he's a moon, and the dark side of it that he disavows is guilt, is 'I did a bad thing', is 'what if I'm not a good boy?' (Wow, went overboard with the metaphors there but too lazy to edit lol). 23. what was your favorite moment and why? Ah, this is hard (guess it's my fault for asking you this one first haha). I'll try to pick 1 or 2 more serious moments and 1 or 2 silly ones lol. So, serious ones:

The warehouse/Light's downfall. Specifically the laughter, if I had to pick a moment. Excellent scene in both the manga and anime, but MY GOD I will never get over the sound of his laugh in the anime. I think about it every day. (Also looove the lip-twitching as he barely contains his deranged glee leading up to his "I win"). I also really like his death in both; his fear, being reduced back down to his humanity, in the most pathetic way. But the laugh moment wins out for me; the way everything that has been pent up, repressed, held back, filtered, pruned is just... unleashed. He's finally showing his real human emotion to other people in this unrestrained way, but it's so twisted as to be monstrous.

Also, the moment when L says Light is his first real friend. I know that Ohba said L is lying in that moment, but my own analytical framework doesn't prioritize authorial intention above all else. And I think there is so much complexity and richness in that moment. I don't think L is lying, but he is manipulating. And obviously even the truth within the statement is a complicated one. But I can't help but see a genuine sort of sweetness in there in that moment, amidst the mind games and adversarial context. Light and Ryuk's reactions in that moment are so excellent too. It feels like a moment where the world stops spinning, just for a microsecond. A moment where some alternate reality almost touches this one.

Silly ones (time for my sweet Matsuda to shine lol):

When L and Light are fighting during the 'date' with Misa and Matsuda calls the room to break it up, telling L some news about Misa's popularity. Then after L hangs up he's like, "Matsuda's acting stupid again." And Light is like, "well, that is his speciality." (The fact that belittling Matsuda actually does diffuse their fight LOL). And Matsuda is on the other end, his face dropping, like, "do they know we can hear them..?" haha. Just a perfect Matsuda/Light/L moment.

OBVIOUSLY the whole mattress gambit too lol

In the anime, when L reveals to the task force that he's actually all three of the world's top detectives, he says something like, "here, I'll give you this strawberry for keeping my secret." And then he holds out the strawberry he plucked from his cake and Mogi kind of vacantly takes it and puts it in his pocket LOL

Thank you for the ask!!! Sorry it took me ages to respond. It was half-done for a while but I wanted to add more thoughts to the second section and just got around to that lol.

ask game

[judasofsuburbia]

for good || argyle week day one: missing scenes

rating: teen and up || pairing: argyle and jonathan || word count: 1113

day one of @argyledaily 's argyle week: missing scenes

"Has anyone seen Argyle?" Jonathan asks. They're still coming down from El going into Vecna's mindfuck palace via the Surfer Boy pizza dough freezer. Mike and Will are holding El on the floor and the general chaos has died down but everyone is still a little shaken. 

“He's in the van smoking I think,” Mike responds with the indifference that Jonathan has become accustomed to. Even amongst the draining atmosphere that was the last few hours of their lives, Mike can still find a way to be a little shit. 

Jonathan rolls his eyes and pushes open the front door of the Surfer Boy Pizza. Sure enough, the van doors are propped open. But Jonathan doesn't see any smoke.

Jonathan calls out for Argyle and hears a muttered, “In here.”

When Jonathan appears on the other side of the open van doors, Argyle is curled into himself. His chin is resting on his knees, his long hair making a curtain of sorts around his face, and his eyes are streaming with tears. He looks up at Jonathan, absolutely defeated, and Jonathan’s breath catches in his throat. 

“Dude,” Jonathan breathes, coming to sit next to Argyle. His arms hover for a minute before deciding that yes, they should be put around Argyle at this moment, and he does just that.

Jonathan holds him for a few silent minutes, the only noise being Argyle’s sniffles. He’s never held Argyle like this, not seriously. Argyle will throw an arm around him sometimes, leading him to whatever shenanigans they have going on. It’s always playful and is dropped a minute later. This is much, much different.

Argyle’s knees drop down and Jonathan goes to move his arms off but then Argyle is tucking his head into Jonathan’s shoulder and oh, okay, comforting is still going. Argyle's had a few freak outs the last few days, rightfully so, but usually a blunt brought him down to a more mellow place, for better or for worse.

That's not what he needs right now though.

Jonathan starts to rub his arms up and down Argyle’s and Argyle’s breathing starts to become steady again so it must be helping. 

“She does that a lot?” Argyle croaks.

“El?”

“Yeah.”

“Uh,” Jonathan inhales to buy himself some time. “Not since we moved, no.”

Argyle hums and whispers, “Scary.”

“Yeah,” Jonathan agrees softly.

“Is that why you moved?” Argyle asks.

Jonathan could spin this. Openly lie like the NDAs would tell him to do. But god damn it, the last few days have already rendered those documents useless. Argyle’s seen it. Not all of it, but a damn lot of it. Too much of it. Literally just helped them get El in between worlds like that. 

Jonathan’s never been a great liar anyway.

“Yeah,” Jonathan answers. “Hawkins, where we were, kinda the cesspool of all those bad things. We thought we’d get away…maybe it would die down. Go away for good.”

Argyle moves his head so it’s off of Jonathan’s shoulder and looks at him seriously. Jonathan once again feels the need to let go but Argyle’s hand stops him. His strong fingers wrap around Jonathan's.

“Why is it her? She’s so…small. Young. Will, too. Fuck, they all are. Hell, we are! They’re so small, why are they fighting this? Why are you fighting this…thing?” Argyle bursts out in a frantic ramble, his voice desperate and strained. Jonathan flinches and Argyle’s shoulders drop. “Sorry, just…that’s fucked.”

“You’re right,” Jonathan says with a shaky exhale. “It is totally fucked. No one in Hawkins would listen to us. El, she…she came from the people responsible. Or at least, the people that knew about it and interacted with it. They…trained her for it. Knew she was special and exploited her. She escaped then Will got caught up in it a few years back. The…thing. It kidnapped him. El saved him. And kept saving everything over and over again‒”

Argyle’s eyes look so, so sorrowful that Jonathan stops talking. He’s never had to explain this to anyone else before. All the people in his life know about this. Witnessed it firsthand. He knows that it’s fucked but he’s never had to drag someone else into it. 

But Argyle's witnessed a lot in the last few days. Way more than he ever should have had to. Jonathan opens his mouth to apologize but then--

“You’re so brave, my man,” Argyle breathes.

Jonathan freezes. His body feels too warm, his skin itching to get off of his bones. The moment feels too intimate. Yet, he fights his instincts to pull away. Something in his brain tells him this moment is too important.

“I‒” Jonathan’s tongue feels too big for his mouth, “I mean‒you. You-- you're brave. You like... helped us. You could’ve kicked us to the curb days ago.”

“Nah man,” Argyle interrupts, a little stern. “You needed help. I’ll always help you.”

Jonathan sighs with a soft smile and Argyle’s fingernails trace circles into his palm. It sends a shiver up Jonathan’s arm. He doesn’t fight it.

“Is that where your mom is? Down where El‒”

“No,” Jonathan cuts him off to help shake the mental image that started to form. “I don’t where she is. I don’t think it’s Alaska,” Jonathan’s laugh is pitiful. 

“Why would she just leave?” Argyle asks.

Jonathan shrugs and his eyes sting with tears. “I don’t…I don’t know. I wish she hadn’t.”

Argyle wraps his arms around Jonathan’s torso and pulls him in for a hug. Jonathan starts to cry into his hair. Argyle cries again too. Jonathan's never cried in front of him before.

It feels so good to be held while they’re crying. Neither of them can remember the last time someone just held them like this. Let them release everything that was bottled up inside into reckless, ugly sobs. 

It’s the first time they’ve ever truly hugged. This also feels good. 

They must cry into each other for at least five minutes, maybe ten. It’s Argyle who pulls away first and wipes his tears and snot with the sleeve of his shirt. Jonathan lets out a little laugh and pulls his collar up to do the same. They’re still holding each other. Argyle is rubbing circles into the middle of his back.

“How do we end this thing?” Argyle whispers. “For good.”

Jonathan turns his head to look back at the front of the van. He looks back at Argyle, his best friend, really his only friend, whose look of determination sets something alight in him. 

“Are you down for a longer road trip?”

Argyle nods with his lips pursed, the vulnerability of the last few moments slipping into a newly found, almost easy sense of purpose. A look that says, "For you, dude? Anything."

This makes Jonathan smile. 

“Let’s get that motherfucker," Argyle declares.

[bakugoushotwife]

Threads of Fate 2// s. gojo x fem!reader

a/n: a short cute dialogue loaded chapter mostly from gojo's perspective to bridge the gap!! prepare for the next chapter to be a lil crazy!

wc: 3.9k

chapter one // chapter three

series masterlist

chapter two playlist

Your energy field was already detectable on the training grounds. He hates that the dorms are so close. Feeling the warm hum of your electric energy roused him from the only peace he had—sleep. You were puzzling him. He usually understands everyone upon first meeting, and until now, Suguru had been the only person able to squeeze past his barriers and surprise him. He was different, of course, his support and ability to tolerate the Gojo clan’s star certainly landed him a spot as Satoru’s closest friend. But you…you show up to Tokyo with some sort of comprehension of who he is and what he is capable of, yet your confidence remains unwavering despite it all. You were brand new and all alone, you overpowered him in front of his sensei and his best friend without a sweat. He had never been beaten before. He managed to take it like a champ in front of you to not add to your satisfaction, yet it was all he thought about. He couldn’t escape your visual ability, and if you can simply repress his ability to use infinity then you would always win.

But instead of anger or the desperation to get better, he feels ridiculously intrigued. The way your energies reacted to each other was like nothing he’s ever seen before, sparks of red and green flying around you both just from the simple brush of shoulders. It had changed him, the feeling of what he could only imagine was your energy seeping into his. It was warm, it felt like it was choking him in a way, but it was enjoyable all the same. Enjoyable? It was bothersome. That’s more like it. He wonders if his eyes could adapt to yours, then he could block your attempts. Or maybe he could postpone your activation of them somehow, make you fight him hand to hand…

“She’s already out there training…” Suguru mumbles tiredly, his bunk right across from his own but much closer to the window. 

Satoru scoffs. He knew that already. He wonders if you could feel his presence too, and what you were thinking about yesterday. He decided the possibility of this being an innate technique of yours was slim to none. Though he didn’t know why your cursed energy stopped in your head at the time, his Six Eyes still alerted him to the weirdness of it. Of course it was later revealed that you have your own special eye, but the rest of you seemed relatively normal. He surmises that the natural effect you have on each other is not under your control after all. Though he’s still not sure what to make of it, and that alone freaks him out moderately. 

“She needs it.” Satoru says, extending a long and sinewy arm to feel around his bedside table for his glasses. His other hand rakes the sleep off his face, revealing his annoyed features. 

Suguru smirks. “You got your ass waxed yesterday, are you sure you don’t need it?” He teases, leaning against the window frame to watch your graceful form move along the training dummies, using various weapons to hone in your accuracy. 

He rolls his eyes, sliding his wire frames up his nose and giving his best friend a dissatisfied look. “You’re pathetic.”  

“What, because I can recognize power when I see it?” Suguru raises a brow, his sleepy eyes still reflecting his amusement from yesterday’s events. 

“No, because you’re drooling over the chick already. I’m your best friend! Support me!” He whines, reaching for his uniform with a bratty sigh. 

“I do support you, I support the pretty lady too.” He chuckles, biting his lip as he watches you aerobatically move around with a bo staff. “Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking about her ever since that happened…” Suguru dutifully called out.

Satoru clicks his tongue. “Only ‘cause she’s weird.” He pouts, throwing his socks at his best friend. “Just go propose already, this is ridiculous!” He groans helplessly. 

“I might.” Suguru chuckles, swatting the socks away and chucking them back at rapid speed. “If there wasn’t something interesting happening between you two already.”

The long and lean teen gasped at the insinuation and wrinkled his nose with disgust, huffing and tugging his socks on. “You’re mean! She’s so not my type.” 

Suguru snorted “I’m sure. Fine, more for me.” He chuckled, peering back out the window. He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m sure my efforts are useless though, she literally sparks around you. You get everything.” He slouches back into his bunk. 

Satoru didn’t know how to describe how that made him feel. He felt a pang of jealousy, but he didn’t know if it was toward you or Suguru. This was so annoying. He figured you’d be a pain to train with no matter what, simply because you weren’t him and not as talented. But since it’s become clear you’re just as talented, if not…stronger at the moment. The idea irritates him and excites him at the same time. He has shouldered the burden of being the Gojo clan’s Chosen One since his birth. It’s hard to be raised with the idea that you will be society’s greatest weapon, the only thing that stands between a great evil and humanity. The idea that he didn’t have to do that alone, or even have someone to help him during that time was almost too good to be true. He knew he had Geto’s support, and he was strong too, but everyone could tell it was different for you two. 

He raked his hands over his face. “Well I definitely didn’t ask for whatever this shit is.” He grumbles, pouting as Suguru also steps out of bed to get ready. 

Suguru chuckles to himself, looking at his lanky friend strewn over his bed in clear dread of sparring with you this morning. He had never been challenged in this way. Suguru was amused. As badly as he wishes he could be more of a challenge for the boy he loves, he doesn’t stand a chance at any real defeat of him. Maybe he was jealous of you for being able to do that so easily, or maybe he was entranced by you for it. He couldn’t quite tell. In any event, it was obvious that Satoru and Y/N were fated to know each other, for better or for worse. That would be determined. 

“Hey, maybe if you don’t brush your teeth this morning you can use that hot breath as a weapon.” Suguru suggests with a shit-eating grin. 

Satoru snarls. “You’re funny this morning. Save it for your girlfriend.’

“She’s your girlfriend, you’re the ones assigned to be together.” 

“Jealous?”

“A little.” Suguru kicks Satoru’s shoe as he pulls on his shirt, just in front of the snow-haired boy. “It doesn’t matter, she likes me more anyway. Do you have a plan?”

He holds his hand up and waves it side to side, as if to say yeah maybe no kinda. 

Suguru raises his brow. “So no.”

“So kinda! I was thinking if I can tire her out she won’t be able to use her weird eyes on me.” The boy defends, getting to his feet too. As he stands, he catches a glimpse of you meditating. You look so peaceful, not at all like the snarky American protege he met yesterday. You look relaxed too, notably unafraid. It almost gets to him. You don’t even have the excuse of being ignorant. You know exactly what he can do, and you know you can beat him. You confuse him, but he doesn’t hate it, somehow, despite how badly he pretends to.

Suguru seems unimpressed by the idea. “How do you plan to keep her from just…using them? She knows she can’t hit you until she has them on.” 

He hums, going to brush his teeth explicitly because Suguru made a remark about his breath. Suguru had a point. In that case, he would have to enact Plan B. He stares at himself in the bathroom mirror, toothpaste foaming out of his mouth. He will just have to take your attacks until your eyes drain your cursed energy. He’ll have to force you to use your second form on him, the much more painful version of your controlling cursed threads. He’s not sure how he’ll do that, but he’s sure he can figure out a way to force your hand. He would best you this time, and he wouldn’t take any mercy during this fight. He couldn’t let you walk around thinking you were invincible. He spits out the toothpaste, rinsing his mouth out and finding his reflection once more. He was the strongest in the world. He had to remind you of that. His eyes steeled over with determination. 

“Are you ready Suguru?” He asks knowing full well the man was nowhere near ready. He steps aside, letting the other man have his bathroom time. Suguru hummed, brushing his hair. Satoru never really had to work on his appearance past getting the sleep out of his eyes and running a hand through his tresses. He didn’t think Suguru needed to work very hard either, though maybe the brush was necessary since his hair was past his shoulders. He shrugs, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest as he waits. 

“I have a backup plan.” He adds as Suguru begins his skincare routine. Satoru rolls his eyes, but doesn’t actively comment this time around. “I’ll just have to let her use her eyes and tire herself out on me. Don’t freak out when you see that.” He chuckles, knowing how sensitive Geto can be at times, especially when it relates to him. 

“Can’t you just put her in your Unlimited Void?” The other boy asks as he moves on to brushing his teeth. 

“Could, but I don’t have enough control over it. I could kill the brat.” He groans immediately, wishing that was a viable option. He had been practicing the finer details of his Unlimited Void, but as it stood right now, anyone that entered it would most likely die immediately. 

Suguru hums, clearly displeased by the arrangement. He wanted to see you come out on top, but he wasn’t keen on watching his best friend be brutally injured. From how Satoru explained your second form, Suguru was sure you’ve killed people before. He wipes his mouth and sighs, giving Satoru a dissatisfied look. “If you’re sure.” 

Satoru beams. “Never fear, Suguru! You know I can handle anything.” He says, clapping his friend on the shoulder, and striding for the door. That much was true, Suguru does know that Satoru Gojo can handle anything. He cherishes him for that, yet he didn’t want the boy underestimating his opponent. Satoru makes a show of flinging their dorm door open, almost forcibly carefree in the way he strolls to the training grounds. 

Your energy prickles his skin as he gets closer to you. It’s intense, it’s white hot and almost unbearable if it didn’t feel so good. It was addicting in some weird sense. He knows you feel him too, for when he rounds the corner he sees your eyes find him instantly. He smirks broadly; you narrow your eyes and grimace. Suguru just closes his eyes and tilts his head to the side as he grins and waves. 

“L/N-san! Ohayō!” He calls out, elbowing Satoru to say some sort of greeting. He doesn’t; he only strides forward with his hands in his pockets, a forced smirk adorning his features. You’re a better actress than he is, for you're able to walk closer to them, looking rather undisturbed aside from the light sheen of sweat coating your skin. The potency of your energy was too much for him to ignore, and he found himself craving to touch you. Not in any perverse way, though he wouldn’t necessarily be opposed, he just felt as if the feeling of your skin on his could possibly cure this intrusive energy field you’re affecting him with. 

You pop your knuckles and come to a stop just a few feet away from the pair. You keep your eyes trained on Geto, unable to predict yourself if you look at Gojo. You know that’s going to be an issue, considering the matter of your sparring and ultimate goal of training alongside him, but you’ve felt the vibrations of his energy all morning and you know the desire you have to get closer to him can only result in disaster. You’ve never heard of something like this before, and you’ve texted your brother to do some research for you. Until you hear back, you have to keep up this facade. You force a cocky grin to Suguru. 

“Oh please. It’s Y/N, you don’t have to be formal with me, Geto-san.” You assure him, smiling at the way his cheeks show his interest in you. 

“Then just call me Suguru.” He insists, and Gojo fakes a barf. 

After he’s done gagging, he rolls his eyes. “You two are disgusting. Please, stop making out in front of me.” He smirks, giggling to himself as Suguru’s eyes grow wide and you roll yours. 

“Oh whatever, I know you’d love to watch that.” You wink, still keeping your gaze on the flustered Suguru. He notes your confidence and decides to build on it, nodding his agreement. 

“Maybe if he wins this sparring session you can let him see.” He jabs you in the ribs, walking ahead to clear your training dummies away. Gojo’s nose crinkles at the tables being turned, and if he didn’t want to impress you and embarrass you at the same time, perhaps he would sulk about the remark, but instead he pretends to hurl again, ignoring the nasty flames of jealousy splitting his insides. Confusingly, he doesn’t know who for, once again, and he just feels silly and embarrassingly stupid. Why would he be jealous of such a thing? Meanwhile, the other side of him is wildly intrigued by the prospect. He can’t help but feel a sense of ownership over you both, though you’re brand new and annoying to him. Suguru was his best friend, and you were…his weird energy person. 

He begins to stretch, watching you do the same thing. You’re not very tall, and it’s clear that you’re probably stronger than you are fast, built curvy and compact like a wrestler or gymnast. You keep your hair tied up, you’re smart. In fights like these and the real cruel world, your pretty curly locks were only going to be a weapon. He thought Americans were dumb, and perhaps that was still the case. Though that meant he’d have to admit that you’re exceptional, and he’s not sure he can do that just yet. Feature wise, you’re his opposite. Ego wise, you’re his match. Power wise, he would find out soon. 

You disguise your gaze as you watch him. You were sure he devised some sort of plan to keep you from using your Quelling Eyes, though you had come up with many different angles to come after him with. If everything went according to your plans, you wouldn’t have to use your second form or Domain, you could stick strictly to your visual powers and First Form: Puppeteer’s Threads. 

It was mostly a sleepless night for you, unable to shake the consuming heat of his energy no matter the fact he was a floor below you and sleeping. Even out here on the training field, you couldn’t escape it. You watched the sun come up that morning in an effort to clear your mind, but everything was fruitless. Even as the air lost its chill and the morning sky became blue and fiery orange, all you could think about was the diaphanous blue eyes that grinned up at you, even after losing. You were right, looking at him made things much more difficult. It felt like there was a rope embedded in your stomach and he held the other end, tugging you toward him mercilessly. He gives you that enigmatic smile, lowering his black lenses to show you his glowing eyes. You figure that means his infinity is already hard at work, not that he wouldn’t turn it on as soon as the fight officially started anyway. 

“Ohayō, Dallas-chan.” He says, shamelessly looking you over. “You ready for revenge?”

You give him a matching haughty grin. “Luckily I don’t have to prepare for that.”

He chuckles at this, moving closer to you. In his mind, it’s hard to see anything outside of you. His vision with his Six Eyes was complicated. He could see Cursed Energy very well, and the outlines of figures, but sometimes he felt like he saw like a bat. He wasn’t able to make out features often, not while in use, but with you, that too was different. He could make out your smile and the twinkle in your eyes. He couldn’t resist the magnet drawing him to you, and it was clear then that he couldn’t hurt you. 

He didn’t want to. This realization softens his features a bit, and you’re taken aback. His energy thrums around you, it’s so palpable it starts to spark again, and it feels like your head is in a vice grip. As he gets closer, you almost want to step back to avoid exploding, convinced that’s what would happen if this pressure kept building. He was no better off, except the pressure felt clasped around his heart. He could feel every beat, the pulse sending his blood was notable as he kept walking. 

“I–I don’t know if you two should fight like this…” Suguru says, watching red sparks fly from Satoru and green ones from you, the two converging to make bright flashes of yellow light the closer you two got. It resembles lightning, and it bolts around the two of you, now just inches away from each other. 

Satoru nods. “I agree. I think we should look into this..” He suggests, amazed at the light show. Your eyes reflect the jolts of energy and your own awe, lips parted in wonder. Surely this was unheard of. He reaches his hand out to you. “Touch me. I have a gut feeling about it.” 

You look at his large palm, glancing up at his eyes as if you needed a final push. You had felt the same insatiable desire too, though you figured contact could go really well or…really not. 

You sigh, and nod, lifting your grip towards him. For a moment, the both of you bite your lips in anticipation. Suguru looks around nervously, noting the approach of your sensei. You shake, and Satoru craves the relief he knows will come. But Yaga interrupts, yelling loudly. 

“Do NOT touch!” He says, and you fall back a little out of surprise. Gojo looks dissatisfied, his hand falling to his side. He doesn’t know how to argue, and he certainly doesn’t want to beg for your hand, but the feeling he was fighting was growing so insufferable he had to do something about it. Yaga appears in between you, and that forces you two just far enough apart that the sparks die down. 

“What’s going on, Yaga-sensei?” Suguru asks, perplexed by the literal fireworks he saw happening before him. 

You, breathless just from the intensity, nod your seconding of the question. “Yeah, I’ve never seen or heard of this before.”

“It hasn’t happened for several hundred years.” The man gruffs, taking in the sight of the two of you. He couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. “The two of you have a connection imbued into you from the gods. The two of you…are meant to be side by side.” 

Satoru’s eyes widen at this. He was certain of his own power, his own ability to endure whatever life threw at him alone. Though, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued by this fated connection. “What does touching have to do with it?”

“Touching consecrates this bond, you two will boost each other’s abilities from then on, it’s stronger than Y/N’s connection with her twin.” Yaga explains, nodding toward you. “You’ll share cursed energy, you won’t be able to use your powers on each other, ocular or technique. And of course, you’ll be tied to each other for life.” 

“And if we don’t?” You ask, eyebrows raised in interest. 

Yaga tilts his head to the side. “The Ito won’t go away, it will continue to pull at you. But, it’s so rare…this has to be reported to the Higher Ups. They’ll want to see the two of you immediately.” Yaga shakes his head. He knows what to expect. He knows you’ll become a target here, too, and Satoru’s troubles will only grow deeper. 

The aforementioned man groans at the thought. “So what, I’m forever linked to Miss Americana here, and now we have to go before the Higher Ups to see if they’ll let us do what…literal fate wants us to?” He rolls his eyes and looks at you with a different glint to his eyes. He seems annoyed still, though not with you. Maybe he knows about this Ito that you’re so unfamiliar with. You know enough Japanese to get around, though you’re still regularly taking lessons, you still haven’t learned what this means. So you look up at him and shrug. He knows you don’t get it, but on this trip to Headquarters, he would explain everything and he would keep you safe from the Higher Ups’ wrath that’s sure to follow. They already held disdain for him because of his rebellious streak, he could only imagine how they would treat you. 

He looks over at you, and groans. It would be something stupid like this, you’re his freaking soulmate, basically. He’s not necessarily disappointed by this revelation, maybe annoyed yet again that he’s forced into a position that he doesn’t care to be in at this point. Maybe he had feelings for you that he’d been grappling with already, maybe he was being  childish by protesting, but he scrunches his nose up anyway. “An Ito? To the American? Is this a joke?”

You cross your arms over your chest and shake your head. It wasn’t exactly like you had seen this coming either. Sure, you realized his beauty the moment you saw him but his personality was insufferable, and you know he thinks the same of you. Surely you would be at each other’s throats at every waking moment, not the truest form of allies that could possibly exist! You huff. “How’s this even possible?” 

Yaga hums, satisfied to see such a strong connection between the two of you, but nervous at the same time for what’s to come from it. “The powers that be must think the two of you need each other, and that the world needs the two of you. You two should get to HQ as quickly as possible, and remember, do not touch without their permission.” He says, nodding to the two of you.

“Can Suguru come with us?” Satoru pouts, not wanting to be left alone with a girl. He knew he was good looking, but he didn’t know how to interact with a beautiful woman, especially one that’s basically willed to be his. 

Yaga shook his head. “I have missions for Geto-san to complete on his own. This is a mission for two. Now get going.” 

The two of you match dreary sighs, and make eye contact. Your eyes narrow, and then his eyes narrow. 

“Let’s go–”

“Let’s get going–” 

Suguru snickers at the two of you talking over each other. He gives Satoru a knowing look and sighs. “Good luck, Dallas-chan.” 

tags: @aepinkoutsold @purpleguk @ddora-kken @naorizenin @enflamedmusings @getosbigballsack @fadingpalacebonkpsychic @staygoldsquatchling02

[octahyde]

Do you have any original characters for TWST?

(As a preface I do have another OC I ship with Chenya, Beau Rhodes, but… I haven’t done much with him besides conceptualizing him. Maybe I should do more since I don’t talk about it enough but TreyRid really really is my romantic canonxcanon TWST OTP and I love it desperately even if I never talk about it. I’ve also been fucking around lately with middle freak Ortho having a form he can use on the surface but ehhh that’s not really an OC thing.)

Ok here it is… The #yumeshit lore post. I actually wanna start getting into like the yume community on BlueSky or something because it has a lot more male yumes than tumb (or rather twit does but my main is a permalocked personal and they’re all slowly but surely jumping ship to BlueSky LMAO), so I might as well explain The Lore in detail. 

As a preface I spend a LOT more time thinking about them when they’re older, because 1) self actualization and 2) why would I EVER want to willingly think about being a teenager again. I literally describe high school as “a haze of undiagnosed mental illness, and also drama club”. no thanx. It’s just not like… too lore noteworthy vs the stuff that actually happens in canon lol.  Here’s what they look like as adults. I’ve mentioned working on a Shrouds piece that took 2 months I finally finished last week, and this is it:

(Side note- along with being a tgirl I hc Idia is a double below the knee amputee after the incident that killed Ortho)

also feel like I should say… Trix’s views on Rook don’t reflect mine LMAO. I have mixed feelings on Rook, but overall my feelings lean positive towards him. He’s a total freak and it’s funny as fuck and I love it. So if you like him don’t try to take the dynamic too personally, it’s the way it is for a laff more than anything.

Beatrice “Trixie” “Trix” Hart is a catch all self insert of mine; mostly for platonic yume. (She was made as a self insert assistant for Klavier Gavin, hence the name, and is also platonic with syl(gags) sylv(throws up in my mouth a little) Sylvain Jose Gautier. If you wanna know about those you can ask ig, I don’t have a ref for 3H Beatrice but I did draw AA Trixie when I came up with her.) She started out as a girl (and I still view her as such in those universes) but for TWST he’s specifically a guy because. Well. This game made me realize I was a transhet man and especially yume helped me sort that out along with being st4t exclusive LOL

Trix is a Pomefiore second year bnuuy beastman from the Shaftlands, Class C (same class as Azul and Jamil). It just kind of really conveniently worked out that my sonas usually have upright brown bnuuy years like the Snow White bunnies and I’m so artistic Pomefiore was the only dorm that makes sense LOL. His Book 7 cameo on Rook’s shelf…

He’s in Film Research Club, and is unique because he joined specifically for crew work, not acting. He’s very extroverted in club and with people he’s close to, but he can be surprisingly introverted when he’s not comfortable. (Ambivert moment). He specializes in practical magic with his sewing and art, and Hates PE. (He likes flying, though.)

His unique magic is My Sweet Heart, which lets him see memories and emotions from people if he grasps their right hand and puts his hand over their heart. 

Caycay is his Number One BFF. I don’t know how they met his first year, but it was basically an immediate click (#trans recognizes #trans. #real #recognizes #real.). Trix walks to class with him every morning, and they frequently go to cafe collabs on the weekend and after class, being sure to leave some of their food out of their magicam posts lest they earn the wrath of their wardens LMAO. If Trix needs someone, Caycay is There for him.

Him and Vil are also VERY close. During his first year, there was an incident that lead to him being roommates with Vil, despite her being a second year and him being first. Trix Really does not like to talk about it, and while Vil would be fine telling people, she doesn’t out of respect for him. She also appreciates someone around club that’s enthusiastic about crew work, and tends to let him lead costume and prop work.

It’s Very clear he has a huge crush on her and that she doesn’t reciprocate. Sometimes she might throw him a bone and give him a little extra praise though LMAO. They do have a very bad fight toward the end of Vil’s third year though, and they go years without talking after. 

His closeness with Vil leaves him some leverage for defending Epel. (#nonpassing recognizes #nonpassing. #real recognizes #real.) It’s mostly in vain, though, but Epel appreciates being looked out for a LOT. Especially because, despite how artistic and fashionable Trix is, his personality is MUCH more down to earth than other Pomefiore students. He’s the biggest advocate for Epel transferring to Savanaclaw his second year and someone who Epel confides a lot into.

Rook’s nickname for him is Monsieur Lapin (Floyd’s is Sea Bunny. Floyd doesn’t come up so I figure I might as well say it heh.). He hates Rook. He thinks Rook is a freak. Especially as a beastman he thinks Rook is super fucking weird. Rook loves Trix’s artwork and his personal journey with beauty and adores him a lot as his beloved underclassman. He knows Trix hates him. He doesn’t care. Trix hates him So Much.

He doesn’t know Ortho much minus the guy who sits next to Caycay’s companion pre Book 6, but once Ortho joins Film Research Trix gets attached REALLY fast. He’s always wanted a younger sibling so he dotes on Ortho constantly, and they rec each other anime and games all the time. (Trix gets him into Professor Layton and he LOVES it.) He learns… a lot about Idia and Ortho’s relationship through this.

Lilia also got asked to tutor him for history once because Trix can’t do homework For Shit and needs help finishing assignments despite his test scores. This backfires because they don’t get anything done ever, but most importantly for The Lore they trade socials and thus Trix is friends with Muscle Red and knows who he is.

Ok. Now the meat of it. The #yumeshit. 

I think it’s probably obvious, but Trix is a nonpassing trans guy. NRC being an all boys school makes him feel safer, but… when he’s not at NRC, even if it’s just in the foothill town, he girlmodes. Being misgendered hurts a lot less that way. (No this is not projecting. Just kidding it is. Please help me.)

As a way of getting respite from this, he VTubes as a magical boy with a voice changer. I don’t have a proper ref but his sona is like the best design I’ve ever done and I’m lowkey mad about it. Anyways. While his interests aren’t really a secret irl it’s always kind of surprising when someone that doesn’t know him finds out he’s into nerdy things, but he gets REALLY invested in the games he’s playing and he has A Lot of info and interpretations to share. And despite his bright design, he gets most excited from horror. He’s not a huge indie by any means but he has a solid following. 

And when Muscle Red sees there’s a well known horror game Gloomurai likes on the docket, well, he HAS to invite them to watch his friend with him! They’ve been telling him how their favorite speedrunner retired and they need someone new to watch, anyways. 

Idia’s very pensive at first, seeing such a bright and sparkly character playing Resident Evil 7, a horror game with a very disgusting atmosphere and themes to match. Probably going to overreact to everything and pretend to be super scared and upset to look cute for views. But he’s watching with Muscle Red, and he wouldn’t make her watch something cringey like that, would he…?

As the game starts up, he starts gushing about what an amazing atmosphere the game has. The entire thing is filthy, and that leads to an overwhelming feeling of dread and disgust- even moreso with the family. His eyes light up when he points out an early scene is referencing The Blair Witch Project.

When it comes to things outside of gameplay itself, he really knows his stuff. Despite how mad him dying for the hundredth time on an extremely easy stealth section makes her, it’s nice to see such a passionate horror otaku. She almost doesn’t mind it because she likes listening to him talk. (Almost.)

Idia starts watching him with Muscle Red regularly. She’s too shy to talk in chat, so she just gives a lot of questionably large donos when he does things. 

He gives a lot of half joking “thank you for funding my doll collection” responses at first, but then says Gloom should chat if they’re comfortable. He’d love to get to know someone who is giving him all this money, and they’re considered a legend in chat for it. She’s nervous (she has no idea why), but she does slowly start chatting and attaching messages to her donos. Soon, she’s a regular in the chat and community. 

So active, in fact, she finds herself with a dm asking for her discord one day. A message follows shortly after about how he appreciates her involvement and wants to get to know her better- now that she’s more talkative, he thinks she’s really funny. 

From there starts a quickly blooming online friendship. They talk whenever they get the chance, though he strictly has to go to bed early or he’ll get chewed out by his housewarden. (A female housewarden…? Is he even forced into the girl dorms at his school?) Idia’s never forthcoming with private info, though, and he seems pretty hesitant with how feminine he is irl to give much past vague detail, either. 

Meanwhile, Trix has to be incredibly careful when lights out and Rook makes the rounds with how late he’s staying up. He is the number one person Trix would rather Die than see his conversation history when confiscating his phone. Gloom’s rude but funny and he loves hearing about X Obscure Game Yaoi Ship. (Sometimes he becomes a casual fan of the series and ship in question- he has been commissioned a LOT to draw her Star Rogue OTP by her.) (He also gets converted to Luisley probably.)

Offline, though, Idia and Trix’s relationship is… awkward. One time during remedial gym lessons when both of them had to run laps in his first year, Trix started complaining about missing club and how he needed to fix his make up, and Idia, being Idia, made a really snide comment about it. Trix snapped at her, and while to him it was just having a bad day, Idia… never really recovered from it. 

In the next year her only exposure was daily convos that were way too peppy for so early in the morning with the extrovert that sat next to her. (I’ve always hced Idia and Caycay sit next to each other in class and straight up forget this isn’t actually canon on a regular basis.) At some point, he started taking curious glances at Idia, which didn’t help at all.

Trix starts getting suspicions about Idia from the few times he does hear her talk, and how similar it sounds. Has he met her before…? But surely he would remember knowing someone as distinctive as Idia, right? 

He has absolutely zero involvement in Book 6 also. With everything going on (because their vice warden ROOK LITERALLY LEFT WITH NO WARNING OR BACKUP PLAN, BECAUSE OF COURSE HE DID, HE IS THE WORST PERSON ALIVE WHO HAS EVER BEEN BORN), him and his roommate end up being the ones to take charge and keep Pomefiore in order. I feel like with Idia yumes in particular Book 6 is a Big Thing because like, Book 6, so I feel like this is important info.

(He IS in Book 7 though. His dream is in between Epel and Rook’s. It’s about being amab :’( He doesn’t take waking up and being back in his actual body well.)

Her and Ortho coming back clear any doubts in his mind: Gloom suddenly leaving on the night of the incident, with zero word since, only to long back on with a “sry, irl stuff happened,” the day after the Shrouds come back? She’s Gloom. Especially getting to know Ortho in club and listening to him talk about her, there is literally no other option. 

He was planning on confronting her about it… then Book 7 happened. Obviously how it ends could change this, but for now once everything’s settled Idia gets a discord notif saying he has to talk to her, and he wants to in person. She tries to say it would be too hard to arrange, only to get a simple response: “Ignihyde Lounge. One hour. You’ll know when you see me.”

She is, unsurprisingly, horrified. How did he figure out? Does he hate her now that he knows she’s a freak? Is he coming to tell her how he can’t believe he befriended someone so pathetic? He’s going to tell everyone all the things she said in confidence. “Lol, you guys thought Shroud was a freak before? Get a load of this!”

Luckily, Trix told Ortho about it. He’s able to coax Idia out and helps her to the dorm lounge, holding her hand along the way. 

And indeed, the one Pomefiore uniform in Ignihyde’s dorm lounge sticks out like a sore thumb. Her heart rate explodes. He’s who she’s been talking to this entire time?! No. No. Absolutely no way. She’s not doing this. She tries to turn and run away, but her brother’s death grip (why did she give him all that strength?) keeps her in place.

He looks around awkwardly as he walks up. “Hey, uh… sorry about that time I snapped at you. Ortho told me it really freaked you out.” Trying to calm her down would hopefully make this easier.. “Do… you want to go somewhere more private? You’re even paler than normal.”

Yes. I do. Alone. And I want to forget this even happened. Unfortunately for her, the look on her bother’s face told her it was a mandatory quest. Defeated, she leads him back to her room. 

He sits uncomfortably stiff on her bed. Idia hides in her chair, turned away from him. He tells her that he doesn’t hate her, that he doesn’t think she’s pathetic. No response. Luckily, he invited Ortho for backup. 

“He really wants to be your friend, Idia! He’s the still same person you’ve been talking to online. And he’s really nice. He’s the one who recommended those games to me!”

Taking a cue on how exhausted she is mentally, Trix gets up and walks to the door. “Just… think about it, okay?”

Think about what? The fact that this person she got close to was actually a loud extrovert who hung around a bunch of normies? That he knows all of the rumors about her? Forget real life- he could go online and tell everyone what a freak Gloomurai was irl, too. 

They don’t talk anywhere for like a week and Trix doesn’t walk to class with Caycay, but then they do talk it out. It’s really hard and REALLY scary for Idia, but she’s able to accept him into her life as a friend. He ends up being a really big pillar of stability for her, and he already knows about her own transness and boymoding which makes him even safer.

And… that’s how they are to the end of her third year! Friends. And really, not looking for anything past that. 

Idia gets a really REALLY nice condo in the Kingdom of Heroes for her internship. (Which she mostly even only uses the upper half of. Smfh) She also gets two cats; a white one, Clear, and a gray one, Ryoji. I’m sure you can guess who they’re named after. Reminder that Idia is canonically a fujoshi. Anyways.

Trix visits during school breaks with Ortho… he also stays in Ortho’s room with him while he’s there. For the most part it’s a lot of just comfy stuff like gaming and watching movies, Ortho taking Trix out to see things and such. Over Winter break while visiting Trix edits one of the Film Research pieces for the culture fair bc he’s club president now… By the time of said fair with 4th years presentations it’s very obvious to like Everyone how they feel. (And they probably know it themselves but try to ignore it because neither feels ready for a relationship).

A really REALLY big point worth noting during this time period (and this is all I’ll say bc I know it’s a difficult topic) is that they see each others cutting scars for the first time. They never really comment on or talk about it, but there’s a wordless understanding and comfort between them afterwards. 

Idia’s staying on the surface for at least a few years to see if researching with Olympos resources can give any new perspectives on blot or her curse. If Trix wants to stay for his internship, there’s plenty of room. She doesn’t admit it, but she really wants him to stay. Unfortunately, though, he’s always been interested in the Queendom of Roses and opts for an editing internship with a publisher there.

It’s more of the same; he visits her more regularly because he’s not limited to NRC’s schedule, and he still streams and she still watches and talks to him. He also adopts Chunky who LIVES FOREVER AND NEVER DIES, EVER. There’s an undeniable closeness between them but neither are still ready to actually act, even if it’s clear they may as well already be together lol. 

During this time she also starts getting him transformation potions to help with dysphoria from STYX while he transitions.

After his internship, he’s able to get a job at the Kingdom of Heroes office of the publisher he interned for. He may or may not have chosen to transfer on purpose- there’s plenty of space there, anyways, so much so he can have his own room big enough to both sleep and work in. Ortho’s out on his own acting internship with Vil’s agency, so for the most part it’s just them and their cats in this huge place lmao. It’s really easy to coexist because there’s space when they need it and Idia’s like entire gamer zone on the upper level when they wanna do stuff together. It works out really well.

There are a whole bunch of headcanons of mine about STYX and the Shrouds and their relationships that I’m not really comfortable going into. However, when they overblotted together, Idia and Ortho did something… really traumatic unrelated to Middle Freak Ortho’s death that Idia blames herself for. She still has regular nightmares about it, and while Trix usually isn’t around from the breakdowns because he’s in his room when they happen, this time he fell asleep upstairs and heard all of it.

He goes in to check on her, and she’s really closed off. He’s eventually able to get her to tell him what happened and her guilt, but… He already knew. Ortho told him years ago when they were all still at NRC. He was waiting for her to tell him on her own terms.

Idia does uhh not take this being hidden from her well! He rationalizes that knowing it and never judging her and standing by her side this entire time means he truly does care and doesn’t blame her. He holds her hand and for the first time says it:

“I love you.”

Idia looks at him wide eyed for a second before turning away.

“You need to leave.”

He’s allowed to stay- she’s not going to just throw him on the street- but he is not allowed upstairs near her. She needs time to process everything. Especially how he hurt her trust. 

Eventually they are able to talk it out though and end up in a relationship. YIPEE!!!!!! Ortho moves in permanently around this time with his internship over with his 2 dogs to add to the family. :)

There’s a lot of stuff with STYX and Woe I haven’t fuuuuuully sorted out the details of, but Idia does eventually have to go back for a while to put her research to use and put an end to things. I think this period is really tough because she does Not want Trix to see what a horrible place it is and how it’s the source of so many awful things it was so she tries to leave him. She doesn’t obv and she’s able to successfully find a solution to the Phantom problem.

Once she’s back, though, she does have a near immediate breakdown- with it all over, her brain can actually like. Process what her life was up to that point and she just kind of snaps. She ends up hospitalized for a few months to keep her safe from a HORRIFIC schizophrenic break. Trix uses STYX Bux for a place to stay so he can visit her near daily and help her through it. There’s also a REALLY bad incident with Ortho.

Minus that though from there it’s… really just them being happy, healing, and transitioning with each other. Idia becomes an indie game dev and Trix becomes a horror writer. He still streams (she started vtubing somewhere along the way too), but they’ve never publicly posted about their relationship. It’s really funny because it’s like blatant but they just try to act like it isn’t LMAO.

As they get older, they move to a small, quiet place in the Queendom of Roses. They have 3 kids (who I also have ocs for but that’s WAY too cringe) who are very well loved. Ortho also lives with them and they have a very happy family. :)

TL;DR: Idia wins the VTuber Fuck A Fan contest.

[metanarrates]

since youve finished isat, id love to hear if post-act 4 changed your mind on any aspect of the game! (character/overall game rating, theories, opinions on certain things, anything you didnt expect to enjoy as much as you did, etc)

i liked the game post act-4 a lot! the characters really ended up growing on me. i think a lot of my initial dislike of parts of the game came down both to personal taste and the game being perhaps a little clunky in its beginning stages. I'd certainly recommend it now to anyone whose personal taste is a little less averse to certain types of prose and to found family plots than my own taste tends to be. it's got some great stuff in it!

spoilers all below

theorywise I was guessing all through act 5 what siffrin's wish was, and it clicked for me during the mal du pays scene. i was actually a little surprised that the king's wish wasn't one of the wishes that contributed to the loop - I had been thinking that the time loop was likely a result of vaugarde's wish to be saved and the king's wish for eternity almost canceling each other's out, and siffrin's wish to stay with his party creating sort of a paradox state where all three wishes were fulfilled via the loop. id figured that the king getting frozen in the final fight took his wish out of commission which is part of why the loop was able to end. but that doesn't seem to be part of it, which is fine.

the ending scenes were pretty good btw! there were some parts of the end conversations with the party that were a tad cloying for my taste, but I felt like mirabelle saying that they'd hash out being mad at siffrin later smoothed it over enough where I accepted it as an ending. I did end up being touched more than expected than everyone trying to help siffrin. odile stopping them from looping had me straight up cheering in voice chat! and i felt it was the right ending for this story for everyone to stay traveling together :)

I was spoiled on the loop stuff beforehand due to a mutual blogging about the game a bunch (everyone say thank you @entryn17 for getting me into the game and to enthusiastically letting me chat their ear off in dms about it!) but i was still SHOCKED at how great it was. i already loved that freak but now they're an all time fave. person who is Not Normal about their clone getting out while they just get fucked up. also person who says this as they're about to attempt murder <3

I'd been pretty vocal about my dislike for siffrin as a character (not a fan of characters who quip all the time to Hide Their Feelings; i find it gets annoying easily) but now i think they're pretty great. he's got a lot of traits I find unenjoyable, but there's plenty of stuff I love if I look past the stuff that isn't to my taste. absolutely loved everything with them losing their home and their desperate desire to hold onto the people they care about and also their spiral into self destructiveness. i thought the entirety of act 5-6 did excellent things with his character. (the king parallels went CRAZY.) I wouldn't consider siffrin a favorite, but I really do see why someone would.

speaking of unexpected favorites, odile's relationship with siffrin actually ended up being my favorite in the game! I'd already liked her character a ton, but completing the side quest where she finds out that siffrin is a time traveler cemented her as a favorite, and her dynamic with siffrin as one of the most interesting in the game. she cares for him in a far blunter way than anyone else does, and her proclivity for noticing things and not allowing bullshit creates a relationship that draws such interesting character facets out of each of them. they're parallels, they're friends, and they're both travellers who lack roots. it's good!

both bonnie and mirabelle also had great stuff in acts 3-6, though I admit to thinking that both of them could have had the knife twisted a tad harder in act 5. i super love mirabelle, and the last conversation she had with siffrin was by far my favorite in that segment. yes girl open up to people and demand honesty from yourself and those around you! and a lot of bonnies jokes in the last segments made me laugh a lot more than I expected to.

still an isabeau disliker </3 I'm less negative on him than i was, but I just don't like most romance so I didn't enjoy his last scene. sorry isafrin enjoyers. i thought him in protector mode during both the king and Big Siffrin fights was unexpectedly great. he's just not my taste as a character, but I have no real quarrel with him being in the game. I just wish there was more I liked about him.

but overall the game was very good! the music and art in the last bits were especially excellent. i actually apologize a bit for being overly snarky in my first parts of the game - I was having some personal stuff going on, which I think caused me to be a little less open to looking past things that annoyed me than I otherwise would be. now that I've given the game more of a chance I had a blast playing! and i would officially consider myself A Fan now :)

[iliiuan]

I'm to the point where Gawyn actually makes a decision, and a lot of the criticism he receives seems misplaced to me. He makes shit choices because he has shit information because the women he trusts to provide him with information refuse to communicate. Elayne, then Siuan, and then Egwene all misused him.

He followed Elayne to Tar Valon and undertook his training there, doing his duty without complaint. Then his sister vanished. His mom freaked out. He worried, and also BLAMED HIMSELF.

When Elayne returned, I don't remember if she even bothered to say 'hi' in his direction before running off again. Now he's really worried. Siuan won't tell him anything. Min won't tell him anything. He's trying to keep Morgase from blowing a gasket. Galad's joining the Whitecloaks. And then... there's a coup. Siuan, having given him exactly zero reason to trust or back her, he knew Elaida as a respected advisor, and he thought that her ascent was legal. He also thought that he would be able to get the information he wanted out of Siuan. All of this makes sense.

Then he stumbles. The change in Amyrlin doesn't fix his problems. He still doesn't know where his sister is. He lets Min rescue Siuan (and Leane and Logain). I don't remember his reasoning, probably because it wasn't very good. This particular point was all him.

Now he has his Younglings, and Elaida wants him disappeared, and he's sent on the mission to scoop up the Dragon Reborn for Elaida. He's heard rumor that Rand murdered his mom, maybe his sister as well, and he has a bloodlust for revenge. All of this is really reasonable, frankly. Then he runs into Egwene.

Egwene has the power to divert Gawyn from his path of doom, but she instead chooses to ignore him (in the political sense) and withhold information from him, while also sort of using him as a spy but not very well. Instead of using her rather impressive people skills to push him onto a healthy path, she uses him for some snogging and makes him promise not to harm the person who is supposed to save the world. She doesn't tell him where Elayne is. She doesn't give him any evidence about Morgase beyond being a character witness for Rand. She doesn't explain about the fractured tower, nor emphasize her allegiance to the rebel faction. She makes no effort whatsoever to sway him to her side, to even try to convince him to abandon Elaida. She doesn't even respect him enough to read him in as a spy for her. She also seems to think that a low-level soldier will be able to protect Rand from Aes Sedai. You know the ones, the women who can channel? Yeah. Not fucking likely.

So off he goes, swimming with his misperceptions, making ever more desperate decisions, experiencing increasing trauma and stress, until he finally comes to his senses and seeks out Egwene's side.

What I'm really trying to emphasize here is that Egwene could have had him on her side beginning in Cairhien, but she couldn't be arsed.

So when he goes back to her, and people criticize her for being with his loser self, my heart deflates a little. He deserves so much better. Even if he is a loser.

I also find the claim that Gawyn exemplifies toxic masculinity to be backwards. If anything, Elayne and Egwene are the ones displaying the traits usually associated with toxic masculinity: arrogance, withholding information or training, refusing help and then being upset when the helper isn't around, seeing the opposite sex as deficient (this one is only Egwene), acting invincible/infallible, not listening to good advice because of the gender of the person giving it ... you see? Don't be fooled by his masculine-coded job of bodyguard; everything else about the gender roles in his world are reversed from ours. He has a prescribed support role, and when he can't fulfill it, he becomes lost. He doesn't get to determine his destiny, so he doesn't train in how to make life decisions, but rather in how to follow orders and to walk his prescribed path.

So much about Gawyn's journey matches with the experience of women in our world who were raised and trained to be homemakers, but then had to claw their way out of abusive relationships, or find meaning after infertility, or push forward as a single parent after being abandoned by a husband or family.

So yeah, I have a really difficult time accepting a lot of the scorn he gets, especially from supposedly feminist critique.

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias/Trent Alexander Arnold x Reader - Dark Rivarly Part 4/15

Part 5 and 6 are already out on my Patreon for FREE!

Reader is Trent Alexander Arnold's twin sister. The two have been inseparable since childbirth, more so now when Reader is fresh out of university looking for a job, crashing at her brother's place whilst doing so. One day Reader gets a job offer that she cannot refuse, however it would mean working for her brother's biggest rival in football, Ruben Dias.

Enjoy!

"You want me to be your what?"

"Stylist." Ruben repeated.

The shop was supposed to be closed as the time was currently fifteen minutes past nine. But apparently Ruben had sent for you earlier that day, however there had been some miscommunication between him and his assistant, ultimately leading to Ruben returning to Grandma's shop, looking for you personally.

"I'll pay you twice as much as you're getting here." He said. Clueless to the fact that Grandma wasn't paying you at all, working you like a slave.

"But why me? I'm not a stylist." You asked, still shook from the way he had barged into the shop, surprising you in the dark.

"Look, I'm in a bit of a crisis. My stylist just quit on me." He explained.

"She did? Why?"

"He actually. And I guess I sort of fired him."

"Oh. And why is that?"

Ruben looked to his feet, hiding his blossoming cheeks. "Well, after my appearance at the award ceremony in Portugal the other day. People..." He coughed. "My teammates to be specific, started calling me the leprechaun of Manchester City."

"Hmm. I wonder why?" You smiled.

"I'll admit that going with the green suit wasn't the best fashion choice I've ever made." He nodded. At least he was able  to see the funny side of it. To you Ruben had initially come off as someone who couldn't take a joke. Like his assistant for example. "I should have listened to you when you tried to warn me. But that's why I'm here, to listen to you, as my new stylist."

"I see." You said, folding your arms. You began circling him like a shark. "Even though I have no experience?"

He shrugged. "You seem to have enough fashion sense."

"Right."

You were currently wearing blue jeans and a Levi's t-shirt, complemented with a pair of run down sneakers. Ruben must really be desperate for a new stylist. You wondered how you could use this in your favor.

"And you didn't freak out when I came into your store the other day. Most people would have begged for an autograph or a video of me giving a shout out to their business. You didn't ask me to do any of that."

"Right." You nodded. In the back of your head you were laughing. "So you need someone unafraid to tell you like it is. For example when you make horrendous fashion choices and so on?"

"Exactly." He nodded. "I need someone just like that. I've worked with so many people that call themselves professionals but just end up kissing up to me. It's money wasted on my side, since I get people kissing up to me for free every day."

"Alright big boy, enough about your complaints of being rich and famous."

Ruben frowned. "I wasn't complaining."

"No?" You looked at him skeptically.

The corner of his lips twitched. "Okay, maybe I was complaining a little."

You chuckled.

"So this job offer, what else does it include?"

"What do you mean?"

"Beyond my salary I mean. What are the other benefits?"

"Well, you get to come with me to all of my events, football games and such."

You rolled your eyes.

"What? You don't like football?

"It's not that, I've just had enough of it in my life."

"Because of your brother?"

"What?" Your heart jumped.

Ruben laughed at your startled reaction. "It's just that when you mentioned him. It just seemed like he is a very passionate Liverpool fan."

"Right, a fan." You chuckled. "I guess you can say that."

"Yeah, some people get like that. I say it's bad for the sport when people get too personal about it. At the end of the day it's just a game."

"Tell that to Grandma." You muttered.

"What?"

You perked up "Nothing! So when can I start?"

Ruben's face lit up. "I'll have my assistant send a car for you tomorrow. I need to shop for a new wardrobe after firing my former stylist. I can't trust to wear anything he's made me buy."

"Hold up." You paused. "You're shopping for a whole new wardrobe. Like entirely new clothes?"

Ruben nodded. "Even socks."

"Right. I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

"I'll see you tomorrow..." Ruben stepped up to you, offering his hand. "I didn't get your name."

Heat rose to your face. "It's Y/N. Y/N, Arnold."

"Nice to meet you Y/N Arnold, I'm Ruben Dias. Your new boss."

A thousand thoughts roamed through your mind, firstly how handsome Ruben looked up close. However you quickly shook that thought away. It was a dangerous thought. A thought that could lead to something messy. You wondered how Grandma would take it if you quit working at the shop. Technically you wouldn't need to quit, but you couldn't tell her that you were working for Ruben Dias, a Manchester City football player. What would your family say? What would Trent say?

Trent....

He would be outrageous. Betrayed to the bone, just like he betrayed you. The thought amused you, sincerely because it would be the ultimate revenge. The perfect revenge.

********************************************

"Look at her Ruben, she's too young, too inexperienced."

"She's perfect Miranda."

Less than twenty-four hours later, a car was sent to pick you up from your grandmother's address. You were taken to some obscure boutique in Manchester that was highly praised for their men's couture. Ruben named his budget and left you to it, whilst he and his assistant sat back discussing your arrangement as if you couldn't hear them.

"It's a gamble Ruben, if something goes wrong she'll...."

"It won't." He said sternly. You were surprised how much he was pushing to keep you, even though his assistant clearly thought otherwise. "Trust me, she's the right person for the job."

"I'll believe it when I see it." His assistant muttered. Just then you came baring a mountain of clothes.

"A little help." You groaned.

Ruben stood, unhanding you the many items. You had gone all out, picking out outfits for every occasion, casual and formal.

"I guess I better try these on." He said.

"Yes, and remember, black can never go with blue, nor red with white."

"Got it." He nodded and disappeared into the only dressing room in the shop.

"Ruben might think that this is a good idea, but I don't." Miranda, Ruben's assistant said.

You sat down next to her.

"Hiring a young girl like you to be his personal stylist can only end in heartache and I'm not talking about my heart or Ruben's."

You pondered her words and thought carefully how to respond. "I'm Y/N, by the way. I don't think we were probably introduced that day, you mistook me for my colleague Jennifer."

Ruben's assistant looked down at your outstretched hand as if you were offering her a shot of poison Ivy. Either way, she was too professional not to shake it. You startled her with your firm grip, making her meet your determined gaze. "I take it the term personal assistant, doesn't really require me to have a personal relationship with whom I'm working for. I'm only here to do my job and go home, no?"

His assistant searched your face, eyes narrowed. A sly smirk then twitched the corner of her lips. "That would mean a job well done, yes."

"Good." You let go of her hand. "Then we're both on the same page."

For you this arrangement was strictly business. Strictly revenge to be exact. There were no other strings attached.

"Yeah, this is what I'm talking about."

The curtains to the dressing room flung open and Ruben stepped out wearing a leather jacket, gray turtleneck and a pair of dark jeans that fit him a little too well.

"I like this look. Good job Y/N."

"Pleasure is all mine." You smiled.

His assistant stood. "Shall we take some pictures for your Instagram?" She pulled out a small camera out of her purse. A Canon camera to be exact, with the ultra lens. What seemed odd to you was perfectly normal to Ruben, who followed his assistant out of the shop and onto the streets. He began posing in front of the camera, leaning against a brick wall, whilst Miranda snapped a couple of shots.

"Are these for Ruben's Instagram?" You questioned.

"Yes." He answered, since Miranda ignored you. "People would love to see the outfit of the day, it's also the fastest way to get a response, see if you've done your job well." He winked.

You were still frowning. "Why aren't you smiling?" You asked.

"Huh?"

"In any of the photos. Why so serious?" Your words made him chuckle just as his assistant snapped a shot. Miranda groaned as she looked at her camera, examining the image.

"What? He looks good." You said, peering over her shoulders.

"He looks unprofessional." She said, "The brands that Ruben is working with won't want him beaming at the camera like a foolish boy."

"I bet the fans would love it." You said, to which Miranda turned to you with the nastiest of glares. Luckily Ruben appeared behind the both of you, his attention drawn to the image of him beaming like a foolish boy.

"Keep it." He said. "Y/N is right, the fans will love it."

You had the sudden urge to stick your tongue out at Miranda, however you managed to contain yourself, turning to Ruben and bowing your head with courtesy. The way he was looking at you, a stupidly boyish smile on his face, told you that doing your job was going to be harder than you thought. However it was all for one cause, to make Trent pay for what he had done.

[weebsinstash]

ok across the spiderverse spoilers and tw for miscarriage stuff but, more idea bullshit let's go

yandere Miguel who lost his family and traveled to another universe to replace his wife and child 🤝 his new spider society obsession from another universe where you were Spiderwoman 2099 and you lost your fiance Miguel and had a miscarriage of your son Gabriel and tried to travel to another universe to replace them, and now you're both fucking emotionally damaged husks who stumble upon each other doing multiverse shit

Just a fucked up traumatized possessive genius control freak who wants his family back and has a desperate need to do good and save people x his equally as traumatized victim who never got to have her fairytale love and is exhausted from loss and being a hero, missing her lover and a baby she never got to meet, who is also so fucking burnt out and depressed she could legitimately just accept being kept prisoner because she's basically too tired to take care of herself or resist, just apathetic with the weight of it all

Like THE most toxic codependent ass relationship, "i want to take care of you vs i probably need someone to take care of me", where there's some sort of mutual affection but like he's Obviously So Fucking Bad For You but. You're getting attached to your captor now and when he cuddles you he smells like your former lover and you're just like a walking ghost and since you're an anomaly anchored to his universe anyways, and he's already had his canon event of losing his family and is in his own universe, surely, potentially, things would be ok if... he tried again, since its new events, new people, not changing anything, simply moving forward? Peter B was able to change his mind on his decision and have a kid safely, even though that was influenced by an anomaly, so, perhaps... test the theory?

Like imagine you're just like normal spidey coworkers for a little while after meeting during, anomaly bullshit, and if anything he's indifferent to you but, even though you force yourself to keep going and you do decent enough work Miguel can tell you're like, Still Going Through Some Shit, and when you eventually spill on what you went through, there's like, obviously the intimacy that you were married to one of him is obvious and he may even feel flustered right away, but also the elevated kinship in going through even more of the same similar things than just the typicals that all Spiders go through, not just losing an uncle or a captain, that you can relate to him so deeply on the loss of a partner and child, the pain of the Rapture addiction and his exsct backstory, the mistakes made in grief, that moment is when, you know, The Switch Is Flipped, and he's 2099% invested in your life and wellbeing from that moment forth (and yes I WILL keep using that percentage joke)

Also the more I read on his lore and facts about him the more I realize how absolutely terrifying he would be as an enemy or jailer/pursuer. He was genius enough to develop multiverse tech, he's inhumanly strong capable of lifting several tons, he shoots organic webs, he has claws to help him climb shit and also fight, his suit is capable of gliding and is extremely durable, he's got paralyzing venom, and I mean. He's 6'9" in the movie. I'm pretty sure he could just legitimately stalk up and stand really close to you physically towering over you with a vaguely threatening body posture as he looks down at you like he'll do something absolutely insane if you don't do what he says and that alone would be pretty effective in reigning you in besides physical forces or tech tricks. I feel like this man is the kind of guy where, yeah he wants to save people, he's still Spiderman, he's still a good guy and can still be funny and charming and care about people, but goddamn it if he hasnt been through so much shit and he's lost so much and he's doing everything to hold it all together so for the love of God don't fucking push him on the things he cares about or he blows up quickly because he just has so little mental and emotional energy left to still divide up between the 50 other things constantly occupying his mind

You go into his captivity you're basically never coming out as long as he still lives and breathes so you might as well let him take care of you like a good husband while you two "make preparations for a new family"

[collidescopeeyes]

Can u do general hc with neeko pls:3?

Mostly recovered from my exams and assorted medical fuckery, so back on my regular ish posting schedule! 🎉

Random Relationship Headcanons: Neeko

- She's so whipped it's embarrassing, like you could've been dating for years and she still acts like she has a crush on you, like full watching you from across the room sighing dreamily, blushes when you hold hands levels of head-over-heels. She can't help it, she just likes you so much!

- Some pretty key facts–she’s a magic shapeshifter empath from a dead culture where mimicking someone's face is the equivalent of going ‘hey, how are you?’. Oovi-Kat are inherently synesthetic, though the exact sense associations vary between individuals (color is always one, but some have textures or sounds–Neeko’s is taste!). Burnt orange could mean bitterness for one and sickness for another, so their inherent empathic/telepathic abilities do a lot of heavy lifting in their communication.

- The fronds on her head and spine are basically magically sensitive pineal glands, and they're very sensitive. She has great eyesight but not great hearing, and often doesn't notice if she's being loud. The colored scale parts of her skin are very smooth, and her human skin (soft-skin she calls it) is much more sensitive comparatively. Her tail is prehensile, and her fingertips are sort of textured, like a geckos. She doesn't blush like a human, instead her fronds and scales turn a sort of sunset gradient. Also, if you have a favorite color, you'll notice her stripes turning that color a lot.

- Vastayan relationships involve a certain amount of intent-based magic bonding–declaring yourself to be in a relationship is literally a minor enchantment that intertwines your magic with one anothers. For a Vastaya whose physiological makeup is intrinsically linked with their mana, this is a Big Deal–for a human, it really depends on how in tune they are with their own magical ability. For Oovi-Kat, whose empathic and shapeshifting abilities are based on their ability to read and mimic others magical essence, this means a constant inherent empathic link to their partner, which would usually require them to assume someone's form to achieve.

- Obviously this is a pretty big gesture of trust even if you wouldn't be able to sense Neeko's emotions in the same way, and Neeko’s been around humans enough by this point to know they can be kinda weird about having their thoughts and feelings read? So in the early stages your relationship she's lowkey vibrating out of her skin because she knows she loves you and she desperately wants that kind of closeness with you, but she also doesn't want to freak you out because what if you say no?? What if you break your bond on purpose because it's too much? That would absolutely shatter her, so she tries really hard to make sure you know what you're agreeing to, but it's also very difficult for her to explain–it’s like explaining how to breathe, empath magic is just something she and everyone she knew was born and raised with. Once she finally gets to declare that she's yours and you're hers and that bond takes form, she's so happy she almost starts crying.

- With that in mind, Neeko is great at understanding what you're thinking and anticipating your needs! If you're having a bad day she'll do whatever she can to improve it, and honestly it's hard to stay in a bad mood when she's so sweet and so absolutely hell-bent on helping you feel better.

- She's much less good at explaining her own feelings in a way that you can understand. She knows you physically can't communicate in the same way, but sometimes it's frustrating when she's trying to to express an emotion but the only way she can think to do it is by calling it chewy maroon. Also, for the longest time she doesn't get that you can't see ultra-violet, it just doesn't make sense to her.

- She would love it if you learnt Oovi-Katian, though full fluency in the language relies on shapeshifting ability–color mimicry and projection of sho’ma are a pretty integral aspect of tonality and nuance in her language. She'd be utterly touched if you wanted to try anyway–for one it's literally an endangered language, and for another she has difficulty fully expressing herself within the limitations of Ionian dialects.

- If you're very attuned to your magic, either through natural talent or practice, you'll also begin to get a sense for her feelings through your bond. The first time she senses you clumsily trying to communicate through your bond-link she's so excited she literally tackles you. It's mostly just a sense of feelings and vague impressions of thoughts, but it means the absolute world to Neeko to share that kind of bond with someone again–after her people were wiped out, she sometimes doubted it was even possible.

- She's clingy. For one her entire species is extinct and she's petrified of losing you, but also she just naturally craves closeness and she really doesn't have much in the way of a sense of propriety. She'll hug your arm or hold your hand or just generally find some way to hang off you. Her tail has a habit of curling around your ankle, and if you're sitting down you can bet she'll find a way to snug up next to or on you (she's small and doesn't weigh a lot). She CANNOT sleep without cuddles and you will inevitably wake up with her wrapped around you like a lizard on a tree branch.

- She hates the cold and in chilly weather she will attempt to bodily climb into your coat while you're wearing it. Also, notoriously steals your clothes in any weather, but she's cute so she gets away with it. She hates wearing shoes though. Socks are on thin ice, but the long ones are cute, those can stay.

- If she can spend time with you, she will, doesn't matter where you're going or what you're doing–and she'll invent reasons to come with you, doesn't matter if you're about to go to the most virulent anti-Vastayan city in Ionia, she'll just disguise herself and it'll be fine! So Neeko can come with you now, right? :)) No matter how much she gives you the puppy dog eyes, taking her sometimes leads to issues–she can be impulsive, and she doesn't really understand things like ‘money’ or ‘theft’ or ‘breaking and entering’. If you put your foot down and go out without her she'll sulk for a bit, but the second you come home she'll forget all about it and just be excited you're back, regardless of whether you've been gone for five minutes or five hours.

- She'll still imitate your form sometimes, especially when you're away. She doesn't need it to feel your thoughts and, but wrapping herself in your sho’ma is comforting, and you'll frequently catch her admiring herself when she's wearing your face. If you're self conscious about your appearance she'll go out of her way to make sure you see just how beautiful she thinks you are. Also, gives you compliments literally every day and means every single one of them, you're the prettiest most gorgeous person she's ever seen and you need to be made aware of this. She can dish it out but she can't take it though–give her a compliment and she basically explodes.

- She's always bringing you little gifts, flowers or food or trinkets she found. The ultimate success for her is wearing something she brought you, Neeko has succeeded in life and can pass away peacefully now. Also, she really likes wearing matching accessories--a bracelet or necklace or even the flowers she wears in her hair, she likes having a little token she can hold on to that reminds her of you.

- Overall, sweetest girl, 10/10.

[agent-calivide]

(If you're still taking asks. 😅)

🤝 How would you describe the nature of Phoenix and their Handler’s working relationship? (Bonus: at what point/s do you think this dynamic shifts?)

I’m still taking asks! Honestly, this is the most fun I’ve had in a while-

Phoenix and Handler’s working relationship starts as… stiff. I’ve said it before, but I think my Phoenix really struggles with feeling accepted due to her upbringing and the training she went through, so they’re always a bit on the defense. It’s not until after the death engine that they start to lower their walls, and it’s because Handler extends an olive branch.

Handler meanwhile always held Phoenix an arm’s length away initially because he didn’t have the energy to keep experiencing intense loss. It was just too much, and he was always reminding himself that the agent was going to die eventually, they always do. But they didn’t. And didn’t. And didn’t. And eventually he grew rather fond of the agent’s chaotic mannerisms, finding himself amused by it all. Even if he did roll his eyes a lot. He really thought they died on the Death Engine, feeling a pang of pain he hadn’t in years. But when the agent survived, he was so delighted, he didn’t even notice his behavior was that of an attached friend.

Over the course of IEYTD 2, their sharp bickering turns to bantering, and they both find themselves enjoying each other’s company, but also worrying over each other more. Handler is worried sick when he loses connection on Jet Set, Phoenix is antsy about Handler getting caught on the roof of Fabricator’s workshop, they both are immensely distressed by everything that happens in Safe and Sound. Handler ends up carrying Phoenix out of there due to an injury, and Phoenix found themselves willing to bear their heart to him by letting him do so. They feel a trust they don’t have the words for, but they also know it’s not romantic. It’s absolutely foreign to the agent.

When Handler thinks Phoenix died, for real, he goes into absolute grief, completely inconsolable. He doesn’t eat, doesn’t sleep, he’s desperate to even find a body so he can say goodbye, but nothing comes up. When Phoenix gets back in contact with the agency, he damn near melts down with relief, joy, and the tail ends of terror. He didn’t realize it, but he really felt like he lost a child of his own.

Similarly, the entire time Phoenix was struggling to get back to the EOD, they were freaking out that they’d be partnered up with some random handler that’d put her back to square one, belittling and challenging her every step of the way. But the more they thought about it, the more they realized it wasn’t that. Not really.

They cared for Handler more than anyone else in their life, they wanted him to be proud of them, to care for them. Hell, they even found themselves thinking back on him carrying them out of Safe and Sound and longing for not only that sort of physical aid, but physical comfort. Emotional support. He wasn’t just a Handler, he was… something else. A mentor, maybe.

While the real answer is Phoenix sees Handler as a father, the concept of a dad being a source of love and comfort is so absolutely foreign that it’s hard for Phoenix to put it into words.