#I don't think i talk about my big comfort characters on here enough truly

[another-random-paradise]

Hey!! I was wondering if i could request what you think some housewardens would be like with a S/O who makes a lot of references? Whether it's anime, video game, pop culture etc etc, I don't mind which ones you choose as long as Idia is there!! Thanks :D ur underrated

A man of culture

Thank you so much for the request and the kind words, it really makes my day <3 I mostly kept the references vague, because as much as i love them, i am horrible at coming up with them- Hope you enjoy!

---------------------------------------------------------

Reader makes a lot of references

Characters: Idia, Malleus, Cater

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: None that i can think off

Idia

-You're on a somewhat big bolder, looking down at him "It's Over, Anakin, I Have the High Ground!" He is down on one knee with a ring, Or at least he would be were he not way to socially anxious he is so in love with you it is unbelievable

-Because it would most likely mean that you not only make references, but would also understand his! He won't have to switch to normie language nor constantly explain everything!!

-I feel like he'd be a lot more comfortable around you, because he feels more 'normal' with you; he knows you won't judge him for his word choice nor his interested, because you do the same!

-Of course his social anxiety won't disappear completely, he is still anxious around you, especially because your important to him, and there might be some days were it's worse and needs time to himself, that of course won't change that he loves you and tries to be as open as he can be with you (Speaking from experience here lol)

-If you two are dating/really close, he'll let you still chill in his room, even during some of his worser days, just don't expect much conversation. 

-Don't be afraid to look over and make a joke or reference based on what he's currently watching/playing, you'll make his day! He might not reply, but you can hear him laugh :)

-On his better days, chances are the two of you are having a date in his room, watching anime or playing video games in wich he definitely won't get competitive, noooo while eating snack and you're just almost exclusively talking in references, just going back and forth-

-In fact, not just during dates, during the few times he is outside it would be the same!.. much to your friends dismay, because most of the time, they can't understand a word you say. Cater might understand one or two from pop culture or if they're popular memes but that's about it

-Ortho also understands because he can just look it up! He very much approves of the two of you, because thanks to you, his brother is outside AND smiling for more than a few seconds, that's an absolute win in his book! :)

Malleus

-He doesn't understand a word you're saying, but he loves you anyway.

-Most of the time he just lets you say your references, happy you're comfortable enough around him to be yourself, even it confuses him!

-If the reference directly impacts the conversation though, or if one just happened to catch his interest. He'll listens very intensely to your explanation, almost scarily so! Not that you would ever find him truly scary <3

-You'd probably hold back from making to many references around him, not wanting to confuse him. When he finds out, he tells you not to. He wants you to be able to be your authentic self, and if he gets to ramble about gargoyles to you, then it's only fair that you get to make as many references as you want, no? He just needs some explanation some times

-That gives you an idea! You make a slideshow about the most common/popular, as well as your favorites, to show to him!.. Turns out he doesn't know what a slideshow is, but he is intrigued!

-So now you have a date teaching him how to make slideshows and help him make one about gargoyles! Now you have a slideshow date at least once a week, where you explain refrences and he talks about slideshows :)

-He is actually really happy about it, it shows your comfortable enough to be yourself around him and your slideshows lets him understand a bit of modern media, making it just a tad bit easier to get along with his classmates!  

Cater

-He either gets all of them or none of them; it really depends on the type of references tbh

-If it's pop culture, then he would get most of it, you'd be the type of couple who flirts through references and memes

-Half of his tweets would just be stuff like "[Insert popular hot character] ain't got nothing on my s/o" and his fans have a field trip every time. He'd also sends you like a bunch of memes and "Happy spouse, Happy life" videos

-So if you do the same? He'd love you even more than he already does! He really loves all your references that he does get, they never fail to make him laugh! You two would just be out and about, till you spot a dog that can jump very high, "Oh wow, that dog can jump higher than super Mario himself." You look to your side and see cater giggling to himself, a genuine smile on his face   

-And if you compliment him through references? Suddenly, he is very flustered!

-It might take him a while to accept the compliments though; You can't tell me he isn't actually insecure behind that influencer act. But once he does, he'll be a flustered mess every time, stuttering while trying to come up with an equally flirty comeback, BUT once he gets used to it, you two will absolutely go back and forth trying to out-reference-complement each other

-If it's anime or video game references, i feel like it'd be a bit different, since he would probably not get them unless they're really mainstream- I don't see him too invested in stuff like that 

-He'll still encourage you though, because he adores the how you'll excitedly compare something to your favorite scene, or how monotonly you'll compare someones stupidity to a character that's known for their stupidity 

-He loves it all, even those that he doesn't understand :)

This was so fun to write!! also, first time writing Cater, kinda nervous

Feedback is welcome, just be nice :)

hope you have a nice day/night!!

[cece693]

you wrote about the mad hatter so well... i don't want to overwhelm you, obviously, but i would love a 2nd part!! and maybe in the future you can write some smut scenario with him? 😶‍🌫️

You're Not Crazy Pt. 2 (The Mad Hatter x M! Reader)

Here's the second part :) I'm iffy on writing smut for the Hatter since he's so childlike and I think he wouldn't go that far with someone, he probably finds kissing pleasurable enough, but who knows. I'll probably end up doing it 🤷‍♀️

tags: angst, happy ending, the reader tries to say goodbye, mentions of Alice, the reader is an idiot, but redeems himself

The Hatter's words stung, but you couldn't stay with him. You didn’t belong to Wonderland, as much as you envisioned yourself adapting to the world. You didn’t share its whimsical madness, its strange logic that defied all reason. You loved its colors, its characters—especially him—but deep down, you felt like an outsider playing pretend in a place that wasn’t truly yours.

So, you left.

Back in the real world, everything felt strangely muted. The once-familiar streets seemed dull and lifeless, lacking the vibrancy of Wonderland. Your sister Alice noticed your somber mood almost immediately. She’d seen you come back looking tired or perplexed before, but never like this. It was as if the life was sucked out of you; You weren’t yourself. She knew something big must've happened to put you in such a state.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the room, Alice found you sitting by the window, staring off into the distance. She approached quietly, her voice soft. “You’ve been awfully quiet since you got back. What happened in Wonderland?"

You hesitated, the words sat heavily on your tongue, reluctant to be spoken. How could you even begin to describe what had transpired in Wonderland? The way the air had seemed to still when the Hatter looked at you with those wild eyes, the hurt lurking behind his laughter? But after a moment, you sighed and decided to open up, knowing Alice would pester you otherwise.

“The Hatter…he told me to leave. He said I should return home. So, I did.”

Alice watched you carefully, her brow furrowed with concern. “But why would he say that?” she asked softly. She knew the Hatter was eccentric and unpredictable, but she had seen how he looked at you, how his eyes lit up whenever you were near.

You shook your head, frustration mixing with the ache in your chest. “I don’t know.” you admitted, though it wasn’t entirely true. “I think…I think he was afraid. Afraid I’d leave on my own someday, find something more important than him.” Your voice wavered, and you clenched your fists to steady yourself. “He wanted to push me away before I could do it to him.”

Alice remained silent for a moment, her expression softening as she pieced together what you weren’t saying. “So, you just left because he told you to?” she asked, not accusingly but with a kind of gentle reproach. “Without telling him how you felt?”

You looked down, guilt settling like a stone in your stomach. “I thought it was what he wanted.” you murmured. “I didn’t want to hurt him more by staying. But leaving…it felt wrong, too. It still does.”

Alice reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You men and your pride,” she said with a soft chuckle. “You’re both acting like fools. You know that, right?”

“What do you mean?”

She smiled, patient and knowing. “I mean that sometimes, people say things they don’t mean because they’re scared of being hurt. The Hatter’s a complicated man, but he’s not so different from anyone else in that way. You need to go back and talk to him. Really talk to him. Otherwise, you’ll never know what could’ve been.”

Her words struck a chord deep within you, resonating with the doubts and hopes that had been churning inside you since you left. She was right—you couldn’t leave things like this, with both of you hiding behind unspoken fears. You had to face it, face him, and figure out what you truly wanted.

Returning to Wonderland was like stepping back into a dream, one that you’d missed desperately in your time away. The colors were brighter, the sounds sharper, yet everything felt strangely muted by the tension in your chest. As you made your way back to the tea party clearing, you could feel your heart pounding harder with every step, a mix of anxiety and anticipation.

When you arrived, you found the Hatter sitting at his usual spot at the head of the long, cluttered table. He was hunched over, a hat perched lopsided on his head, his fingers busy stitching a ribbon that looked like it was fraying at the ends. His back was to you, but the moment he heard your footsteps crunching on the gravel, he stiffened ever so slightly.

“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” he said, his tone light and airy, but you could hear the strain in it—like a string pulled too tight. “Come to say a proper goodbye?”

You took a deep breath, stepping closer, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on your shoulders. “Yes, but I want to do it right. I don't want to leave with things unresolved between us."

The Hatter turned to face you slowly, his usual mad grin stretching across his face, but it was different this time. His eyes, usually bright and wild, were shadowed, clouded with something you couldn’t quite place. “Well then,” he said, forcing a laugh that sounded more like a broken sigh, “goodbye it is! Off you go, then! Don’t let the rabbit hole hit you on the way out!”

Without thinking, you reached out and pulled him into a hug. His body went rigid at first, as if he didn’t know how to react. You could feel his rapid breaths against your chest, hear the hitch in his throat as he struggled to keep up the façade. Then, slowly, he softened, his arms coming up to clutch at your back, holding you as if you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground.

“Why are you doing this?” he whispered, his voice cracking, caught somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “Why are you making this so hard?”

“Because I don’t want to leave you,” you confessed, your voice thick with emotion. “But I don’t know how to stay when I feel like I don’t belong here.”

The Hatter pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “You do belong. To me, you do.”

His words pierced through you, breaking down the last of your defenses. You thought you had made up your mind to leave, to return to the real world where everything made sense, where things followed rules. But in that moment, nothing made sense without him.

You stepped back, letting go of him even though it hurt. “Goodbye, Hatter.” you said softly, turning away. “I’ll miss you.”

As you started up the path that would take you back home, every step felt like dragging a weight behind you. You reached the midway point, the fork in the path where one route would lead you back to reality. You paused, your heart aching with each second that passed. You glanced back, your breath catching in your throat when you saw him still standing there, watching you leave with a look of pure devastation.

You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t leave him like this.

Turning on your heel, you sprinted back down the path, the wind whipping against your face as you ran. You didn’t stop until you were right in front of him again. His eyes widened in shock, his lips parting to ask something, but you didn’t give him the chance. You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him, pouring all the emotion you’d been holding back into that kiss—your fear, your love, your need to stay.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, he stared at you, his eyes wide and searching. “You…you came back?”

“I did,” you said, smiling through the tears in your eyes. “If you’ll have me. I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, he looked as if he didn’t believe you, his gaze darting over your face as if trying to find some hint of doubt or hesitation. But then his lips slowly curved into a smile—a real, genuine smile that lit up his entire face. “Oh, yes. Yes, indeed! And we shall have tea every day, and perhaps cake, and perhaps something more delightful!”

You laughed, a lightness settling over you that you hadn’t felt in days. “Sounds like a plan.”

[aayakashii]

hii love ur stuff a lot!! i especially enjoyed the sh ones (as weird as that sounds, it's just nice to be cared for something <3) could i request the same concept but with tohma and sho? thank youu

Thank you for enjoying what I write!! It truly means the world to me <3 and it's not weird at all, I understand how it feels good to have a character you like comfort you in some way 🫂 also, I might have written a bit too much this time oops (´ᵕ `ก).｡

Here are the other drabbles of the same "series": part 1, part 2

Warning: sh mentioned and/or implied

While you took a big bite of your sandwich, humming in delight and chewing happily, Sho was burning holes onto your arms as he washed the dishes at his truck.

You tried to ignore his blatant staring, already used to the questioning gaze of those around you whenever you showed the skin of your arms, but the intensity of his expression compelled you to say something before he actually managed to shoot laser beams from his eyes.

"Okay, thanks for the food" you bowed slightly as you crumpled the used napkin "Now go on. Shoot your questions."

Hearing your words, Sho blinked, finally looking up at your face.

"Huh?"

"You've been staring" you pointed at the visible scars "You can ask me stuff, I won't bite."

He scoffed.

"Me? I wasn't staring. I don't care." Sho looked down and furiously scrubbed the plate on his hand.

"You were almost burning a hole on my arm, Sho. Also, you've been scrubbing the same plate since I came here today."

He winced, embarrassed by his own distraction, and put the plate inside the sink.

Sho rested his palms on the counter, making his shoulders reach his ears, his head hanging low as he sighed.

"Hey, I don't mind, you know? Like, I don't mind talking about them. Especially with someone I trust." you said gently.

At that, he looked at you, searching your eyes for something you couldnt quite understand. After a few seconds, he straightened his posture and cleared his throat.

"So... can you tell me? Why did you... why did you do this, senpai?"

His voice sounded so anguished and you couldn't help but feel a pang in your heart. You reached out your hands to hold his, and he hesitantly took them, twisting your arms a little so the scars could face him.

"I was in a very dark place some time ago." You observed as he stared at the marks on your arms, his hold on you tight and firm "It felt like everything was spiraling out of my control and I had to keep something under my restraints."

You chuckled.

"If you think about it, I'm actually in the same type of situation again, in a whole other scale."

Sho's grip on your arms tightened and he lifted his head quickly. His eyes looked sorrowful at your remark, yet he couldn't find the words to protest against the truth.

"But... you can't– I mean, you don't have to–"

"Don't worry" you interrupted, trying to calm him down "Despite the circumstances I'm in a better mindspace now. Also, loneliness played a big part in it. I'm not alone now, right?" you lifted your eyebrows, a playful smile tugging on your lips.

He shook his head, his expression still solemn.

"Yeah, you're not alone, no. Not if I'm here."

You smiled, a warmth spreading in your chest at how serious and genuine he looked as he said that.

"But." Sho breathed deeply before continuing "But if you ever need to cry for help, for any reason at all, you have to promise to come to me before you do anything rash, okay?"

"Okay." You nodded.

"No, that's not enough, senpai. You gotta promise me. Here." he lifted his little finger and pointed it towards you. His brows were knitted and his lips pursed into a thin line despite the way the tips of his ears burned red. "Promise me."

You snorted and intertwined your own little finger with his.

"I promise."

You have itched you arms through the sleeves of your blazer for the nth time that afternoon, Tohma noticed.

Honestly, it was getting a little bit on his nerves. He had taken time off of his schedule to help you study Anomalous Biology, something you seemed to struggle with, due to how haphazardly you had been thrusted into the unbelievable world of ghouls and anomalies. And he understood your plight, he truly did.

But was his teaching so boring that the itch on your arms shattered your focus that easily?

"My apologies if I make you uncomfortable, but... wouldn't you like to take care of what has been bothering you first, before we continue our studies?" he eventually said, closing the textbook he was using to teach you.

You looked surprised and a bit embarrassed, which was unexpected to him. Did you not notice? Was this a tic?

"I'm sorry, Tohma, I did it without noticing, truly. I have a itching cream on my backpack, I can put it on now if it won't make you uncomfortable."

"Not at all. Why would it make me uncomfortable?" he quirked up an eyebrow.

"Well... because, it's... um... I guess I should just let you see it."

You bashfully took off your blazer after grabbing the cream, and laid your arms on the table. On your skin, several small scars littered the underside of your forearm, which caught Tohma's eyes almost immediately.

"Oh." he mouthed, and you smiled awkwardly.

"I've had them for a while, but every now and then they itch. Usually when I'm having allergy symptoms and since we're on an old library..." you trailed off.

Tohma stayed silent for a while as he watched you apply the cream on your arms.

"My apologies." he suddenly muttered and you glanced at him.

"What for?"

"It wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable with my remark."

"Oh" you waved your hand, dismissively "Don't worry about that. It's good you said, otherwise I might have hurt myself. I don't really mind showing them. They're already a part of me, so there's no benefit in feeling embarrassed by them, right? Plus, it's been a long time ago and... sorry, I'm rambling."

Tohma smiled and grabbed one of your hands, turning it to bring its back to his lips.

"You are a very fascinating person." he said, placing a chaste kiss on your skin "Maybe a bit reckless, but incredibly brave."

Your cheeks burned at his comment and his kiss, and you laughed nervously.

"No... not at all. I'd say I'm facing something a lot more difficult now and I'm honestly very terrified."

"But you're still moving on. Bravery is to keep going despite your fears. You're doing this now and you did this every single time when you went through these" he said pointing at the marks on your body.

You lowered your head, the redness spreading to your neck as he stared at you so intensely.

"I just hope you'll find it in you to rely on us whenever you need, now that you have all ghouls wrapped around your finger."

You raised a brow, finally facing him, a look of skepticism on your face.

"I definitely don't have all ghouls wrapped around my finger, Tohma"

"Oh no? Well, then maybe it's just me." he said it nonchalantly and opened the book in front of him again.

Full masterlist

[sweet-s0rr0w]

day 28 of @hprecfest - a fic over 100k

Any Instrument by @dictacontrion - E, 131k, 2015

Summary: Draco Malfoy wouldn't go back to England for anything less than an exceptional case. Being asked to figure out why Harry Potter can't control his magic might be exceptional enough to qualify.

Excerpt:

Draco reached for a teaspoon, grasped the edge of the saucer, and leaned back against the sofa, stirring gently and resting an ankle on the opposite knee. “Why, and for what, exactly, are you trying to blame the French?”

“As I suspect you know, there have been hordes of Ministry officials trekking through the house all week. Aurors and Unspeakables, all of them. Millie says the East Wing is off limits, and Prippa has had some fairly alarming news about why that is. I can only hope this whole affair is a case of temporary insanity. Now,” she said, stirring her tea, “that can’t be down to your mother, or you’d have gone mad ages ago. The Unspeakables I’ve overheard talk about your technical abilities with a truly disturbing degree of reverence, so I doubt it’s your work. Process of elimination. It must be the French.”

“That would be the why. Is this accusation of temporary insanity the what?”

Greg shifted, curling his body towards an armrest and looking intently into the middle distance with his chin braced in a palm.

“Draco.” Pansy set her saucer down with enough insistence to rattle the whole set. “Even in your altered state, I can’t imagine it’s escaped your notice that Harry Potter has moved into your ancestral home.”

He paused. “It hasn’t. Though that particular detail was supposed to escape yours.”

Some sweet_s0rr0w trivia: I finished reading this fic one morning back in November 2020, and a few hours later I had the idea for my first ever fic (which became Nor All That Glisters)! I don't think the fics are alike at all, but I suspect I found some things I really admired here - the writing is brilliant (I think the author does dialogue and character interactions especially well - I remember a brilliant Pansy very clearly in this one), the development of trust then tentative friendship then more between Drarry feels very natural, and the feels epic in scope; twisty and clever and fun. Draco's a biomagicologist (brilliant lore here), come reluctantly from his home in France to help Harry with his magic. Also, the flower scene is one of my favourite scenes of all time. Big rec from me to anyone who hasn't read it yet!

If you read it, and especially if you love it, please do let me know! And as always, please do take the time to leave the author a kudos/comment <3

day 1 - first fic you remember reading

day 2 - a fic rated G

day 3 - a fic not on ao3

day 4 - a comfort fic

day 5 - a romantic fic

day 6 - a fic for a ship you don’t normally read

day 7 - the best of your OTP

day 8 - a fic that was recced to you

day 9 - a WIP

day 10 - a fest/event fic

day 11 - an underrated fic

day 12 - a fic from your favourite author

day 13 - a rare pair

day 14 - a fic rated T

day 15 - a fic over 50k

day 16 - a podfic

day 17 - a fic that makes you cry

day 18 - a fic that makes you laugh

day 19 - fanart

day 20 - a fic with fanart

day 21 - a fic rated M

day 22 - a series

day 23 - a crossover or AU fic

day 24 - holiday (vacation)

day 25 - holiday (national holiday)

day 27 - a smokin' hot fic

[trans-luis-serra-navarro]

HI ERIC HELLO PLEASE HEAR ME OUT

i literally can't stop thinking about something

i loveee re6 AUs with luis, but

death island!luis !!!!

specifically, a scenario where he saves leon instead of/with rebecca. like imagine him working with rebecca on the vaccine and delivering it to the island to save leon and the rest 😭😭

and i actually see two scenarios here

either luis is obviously alive and all, and leon knows it, and it's just, hey! my husband's here to save the day!!

OR it's a big reveal lol. rebecca shows up there like, 'a friend helped me', and it's LUIS there with her. like, i know rebecca is super capable and she made the vaccine all alone in the movie , but just imagine if it was actually a bit more complicated, so she would have to reach out for help, and who would be better than luis

i NEED to see luis and rebecca team up, they'd work so well together 😭😭

and older serennedy!!!!! omg

i just need to see older luis 😭😭 and the parallel with him delivering the suppressant in re4, and now the vaccine

i don't know what i wanted to say with this and i really didn't think it through that well, and it's rushed, but i really need to share these thoughts 😭

@silverhexrt HI SO UM. THIS ASK WAS SENT IN JUST OVER A WEEK AGO and it gave me SUCH AGGRESSIVE brain worms that I was like Oh this would make for SUCH a cute little Drabble!!!!! But then I just. Kept going. So I accidentally made a whole entire fic for you!! I really truly hope you don’t mind!!!!!!!!! ;^^/

I know this blog is more of a character analysis blog so if you or anyone else still wants to talk to me about the LOGISTICS of what Luis in Death Island would look like I’d be MORE THAN HAPPY TO RAMBLE cuz I am SO FASCINATED by how that would work character and legalities wise,,, but uh for now!! I hope you don’t mind this little thingymadgig I made!!!

Fatigue was the overwhelming sensation dragging Leon’s body down. His breathing was labored and his skin burned against the Velcro of his protective gear- far from unfamiliar territory in terms of the worst symptoms he’d survived. But this somehow felt so, so much worse.

Leon felt like he was dying. Like actually dying. Which was downright terrifying.

He hated that he even knew what dying felt like. Leon could easily pick up on the little ways his body began to shut down; it felt like he couldn’t breath in far enough to fill his lungs, his limbs felt weighed down by an invisible force, his vision was blurry… except, this time, it was his own body killing him from the inside-out.

He was much more used to- even comfortable with- the close brush of death being from the hands of a Bioweapon or loose debris crushing his body. Leon at least had some level of control in those scenarios. He could kick and wriggle and spit and cuss out whatever was holding him down until a miracle freed him and he could load bullets into the face of whatever was hunting him.

But Leon couldn’t run from his own body, no. And oh, how badly did he wanna run until his legs burnt beneath him.

Leon had only ever felt that inherent, gut-wrenching urge one other time. One other time when he was on the brink of death and freedom alike; warm tan hands and cold needles in an isolated village so far from home. Leon could’ve taken the medicine and ran. He could’ve watched the world burn from behind his lovers back as they chased windmills without a care in the world.

He could’ve faced death in the eye. He could’ve taken the blade of the knife for him. He could’ve been just a fraction of a second too late for Ashley. Oh, the possibilities.

What a weird time to be thinking about Valdelobos. Maybe it was just his oxygen-deprived brain desperately trying to connect the dots for one last dream. Like falling asleep with the TV on and having a dream about the movie you’d just watched. Arias had his own ‘inspirations’ from Los Illuminados, after all. Maybe he was just trying to think of one last happy memory to drift off to.

Leon hoped dying would be a little bit like falling asleep. He was never religious, never superstitious- but deep down he hoped that he’d be reunited with the loved ones he’d lost. Finally, finally getting the chance to feel those warm palms against his cheek that he missed oh-so dearly.

Leon sighed and let the concrete below his hands wobble a little. He could just barely make out Chris and Claire’s labored breathing from behind him- the only other thing keeping him grounded.

But god was it getting hard. He couldn’t tell if it was just the pure exhaustion or the virus or what, but Leon’s head felt so heavy. Heavy enough that it almost felt as though somebody was holding it up for him. He let himself pretend, just for a moment, that it wasn’t just his imagination. That the warmth on his cheek wasn’t his flushed skin and were instead the hands of a lover, keeping him upright and rested against a beating heart that Leon was sure was just the blood roaring in his ears.

He let himself pretend that the stroke he felt against his cheek was his lovers thumb. A lover so considerate that they’d wipe the blood off of his skin and tuck the loose hair behind his ears. He pretended that the murmuring of his ears giving in was somebody talking to him, whispering comfort in his final moments.

Leon almost let himself give in completely to the imaginary man holding him- the distant scent of leather and cigarettes felt so real, after all- but a cold prick against his neck and the immedie, cold relief of fluids beneath his skin snapped him back to reality.

His breathing came back to him in time with his heartbeat, his fingertips pulsed with the sudden pumping of blood, and…

The feeling of somebody holding him hadn’t gone away.

His cheek was still warm with another man’s hand. His nose still stung with the smell of leather.

His heart was still beating in time with somebody else’s.

Leon hesitated. He didn’t want to open his eyes. He knew he was just dreaming- that he’d look up and the vision of the man he yearned for every night would disappear like a mirage. He wanted to keep them closed and pretend for as long as possible. Until-

“Leon? ¿Corazón? Mierda, Rebecca, he’s not responding-“

Leon’s eyes opened just slightly.

He was staring down at the concrete, somebody must’ve moved him to get access to his neck easier. But he wasn’t dreaming. He wasn’t dreaming of the arms clad in white wrapped around his shoulders and the ringlets of curls that fell around his vision, shielding him from the fluorescent Alcatraz prison lights.

Warm hands went back to stroking his cheek.

Leon wasn’t dreaming.

“Leon? Oh, please wake up,”

His voice sounded so broken, so quiet. Leon had never heard of it like that. It broke his heart.

“I can’t- I can’t leave you here, not like this, not again, please…”

Leon couldn’t take it anymore. He was terrified to roll over and face the man he’d chased in his dreams for so long but he had no other option. He’d rather he disappear and it all be his imagination than hear him this sad ever again.

Leon turned his head and blinked up at Luis like a newborn deer. His big, brown eyes were wet with tears but that stupidly charming smile was unmistakable.

“Hey there, Leon…”

Luis managed to croak out, the hand against his cheek trembling from the tears. Leon reached his own shaky hand up to brush Luis’ long, grayed locks out of his face just as he had done moments before for him.

“I must be dreaming,” Leon huffed out, and Luis chuckled, shaking his head and the tears from his reddened cheeks at the same time.

“If you’re dreaming, then so am I, I’m afraid”

“I’ll take my chances.”

Luis chuckled and Leon wasn’t far to follow suit. Even with the end of the world on his shoulders- even with Dylan fighting tooth-and-nail to break down his, Jill’s and everyone else’s spirits- Leon still found time to laugh with Luis like it was autumn of 2004 all over again.

“Just like old times, eh, Sancho?” Luis gave a little sniffle, and while Leon had more than too many questions to ask- how he was even alive was obviously the most pressing- he just couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“Yeah,”

He let himself rest his head against Luis’ chest. Heart beating strong, almost as if to mock Leon for ever doubting his lover's strength.

“Just like old times, Don Quixote…”

[foundtherightwords]

The Dark that You Lit

Pairing: Hellcheer (College AU), Blind!Eddie

Summary: After months of dating, Chrissy is finally comfortable enough around Eddie to take the next step in their relationship, but can she let go of her fears to become truly intimate with him?

Warnings: non-explicit sex, loss of virginity

Word count: 7.5k

A/N: This was written for Day 5 of 2024 Hellcheer Halloween Week, with the prompts "first time" and "run". The title is taken from Snow Patrol's "Talking About Hope", and I took some inspiration from the poem, "First Poem for You", by Kim Addonizio as well. I gave Eddie's tattoos new meanings to fit this version of his character better. We never got an explanation for them in canon anyway, so I figured it would be OK.

Sequel to This Is the Sound of Your Voice, but can be read as a standalone.

It's my first time (ha!) writing such a detailed sex scene (not graphic, but more detailed than my usual), so please let me know what you think!

The rain started the moment they stepped out of the train station. Spring came early that year, and this was a warm, friendly rain, big, fat drops that fell on pavements and rooftops with a cheerful sound. Still, Chrissy was annoyed.

"Shit," she mumbled under her breath. "I know we should've brought an umbrella."

Behind her, Eddie gasped in mock consternation. "Is that a swear word I just heard from you, Miss Cunningham?!"

She grinned. "That's your bad influence rubbing off on me, I guess."

They had just been to Jackson Park to see the cherry blossoms—well, to see them in Chrissy's case, and in Eddie's case, to enjoy the sunshine and the petals drifting over his face whenever there was a breeze. In the five months since they started dating, it had never ceased to amaze Chrissy that Eddie always found his own way to experience things, things she'd thought one would need to see to fully appreciate. Eddie never let his blindness stop him from reveling in beauty. It was what she liked most about him. 

"How about this?" she said. "You wait here, and I'll run to the dorm and get an umbrella, and come back for you."

"You don't have to go through such trouble for me." Eddie shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it over her head, before motioning to her with his cane. "Come on."

"But you'll get soaked," she protested.

"A little rain never hurts anyone," Eddie said and started walking down the street, seemingly unaware of the rain splattering over his hair and shoulders.

Shaking her head, Chrissy lifted the bag containing the remnants of their picnic lunch to her shoulder and ran after him. She may admire Eddie's love for life, but sometimes he had no survival instinct.

"Fold up your cane," she told him, holding the leather jacket over her head with one hand and grabbing his elbow with the other, "and let's try to outrun this, or you'll catch a cold. I don't want to spend the entire spring break nursing you."

"I wouldn't mind that." A teasing smile lifted the corner Eddie's mouth, but he did as she said.

And so, hand in hand, they ran down the street, keeping to the awnings when they could, dodging between umbrellas and people with newspapers and briefcases over their heads, giggling when they splashed across a puddle. Chrissy had to admit it was rather liberating, almost exciting, to feel rain falling on your skin, especially when you know that there is a warm and dry room waiting for you at the end of it.

Still, for all their hurry, they were dripping wet by the time they arrived at the dorm. The woman at the front desk peered at them disapprovingly over her glasses, as Chrissy signed Eddie in.

"You know that an overnight guest may stay no more than three nights," she told Chrissy.

"Yes, I know. Thank you!" Chrissy pushed the sign-in sheet back and quickly led Eddie away, hoping he hadn't heard. They hadn't discussed the possibility of him staying overnight. The plan was that they were going to hang out for the rest of the afternoon and maybe get some dinner before Eddie went back to his apartment. As they had done plenty of times before.

Some people would say that five months of dating was definitely long enough to spend a night together, but somehow Chrissy and Eddie never managed to find the time. Between their studies—Chrissy was applying for nursing school, and Eddie was getting his teacher certificate—and their jobs, they were lucky if they saw each other a couple of times a week. Chrissy had taken to walking from her lecture halls in the West Campus of UIC all the way to the English department in the East Campus, so she could see Eddie between classes and have lunch with him. And there were always people around as well—her roommate, Nancy, and his roommates. Eddie lived with his bandmates, and although they were perfectly lovely, Chrissy couldn't think of anything more dampening to romance than having three guys hang around like three enthusiastic puppies.

Admittedly, some of their failure to spend a night together was of Chrissy's own making. She always had some excuses ready—she had an early class the next morning, she had to work the late shift, she couldn't sleep unless it was in her own bed. She and Eddie had never talked about sex, and Eddie never pressured her into anything, never questioned her hesitation, but a barb of shame always pricked at Chrissy's insides whenever she thought about it. The truth was that she was afraid. Not of the sex itself, but rather of what it would mean for her and Eddie. She was afraid of taking the plunge, of committing to such permanence. And afraid of disappointing and being disappointed as well. She had only had one boyfriend before and no experience further than some kissing and cuddling, while Eddie had mentioned a few ex-girlfriends. Besides, he was in a band. Not a hugely popular band, but they played in local bars, and Chrissy had seen the way some of the women in the crowd looked at Eddie. Rather than making her jealous, such looks only made her more insecure. No doubt he was used to casual hook-ups.

But during Christmas break, she had missed him so much that some of those fears had faded considerably. Three long weeks without seeing Eddie, and if she wanted to talk to him, she had to drive into town to call him from a payphone, because she didn't trust her mother to not listen in. Her mother would throw a fit if she knew Chrissy was seeing someone like Eddie. The fact that he was attending UIC on a scholarship wouldn't mean anything to her mother. She would only see that he was blind, that his childhood home was in a trailer park in a small, inconsequential town, and that his mom was dead and his dad was out of the picture. None of those things bothered Chrissy, but she wanted to protect Eddie and herself, and if that meant keeping their relationship a secret for now, then so be it.

And when they came back from Christmas break, when she jumped into Eddie's arms and he dropped his cane to lift her into the air, Chrissy had decided it was time to take the plunge.

Of course, deciding to take the plunge and actually doing it are two different things. Even though she no longer made excuses for herself, the usual problems still stood. It wasn't until now, during spring break, that they had some time for themselves. Nancy had gone home, and Chrissy told her parents she was staying to study, which wasn't entirely a lie—she had to get her grades up if she wanted to get into nursing school that fall. Her other plan she told no one, not even Eddie.

To be fair, calling it a "plan" would be an overstatement, because her plan didn't extend further than inviting him back to her dorm room and asking him to teach her how to play D&D. This was no ruse either—she had wanted to learn for a while, since Eddie was so passionate about it. In preparation, she had bought a set of dice and borrowed a player's handbook. Eddie also brought his special set of tactile dice, with raised dots—Chrissy's Valentine's Day present for him, for which she had had to scour several hobby stores—and his Braille notes of past campaigns. Now he stood at the doorway to her room with his binder in his arms, looking a little lost, almost in awe even.

"So this is your room," he said.

"Yes."

"What does it look like?"

"Oh, just a standard dorm room." She took his hand and guided him through the room, keeping her pace slow and steady so he could count his steps, which Eddie told her was how he familiarized himself with new surroundings. "Here's the closet, here's the door to the bathroom, there's Nancy's desk and bed, and here's mine." She didn't mention that Nancy's side of the room was straight out of a Sears catalog, not a piece of paper or a pencil out of place, while her side of the room always looked like it had just been hit by a hurricane. She quickly straightened up the textbooks on her desk, cleared away the dirty plates to make space for Eddie to put his things down, and bustled about turning on the radiator and looking for towels.

"We need to get you out of those wet clothes," she said and winced as soon as those words came out of her mouth. They were so corny, so obvious an innuendo, which she didn't mean at all. "I'll find you something to wear while they dry," she added and winced again at how awkward she sounded.

She had nothing Eddie could wear except for her bathrobe. As she handed it to him, Eddie suddenly looked shy. "No peeking, OK?"

"I'll be in the bathroom," Chrissy said, trying to bite back a grin.

Despite that promise, she couldn't help a backward glance. Eddie was peeling off his wet T-shirt, and she caught a glimpse of his back, slim and wiry, lean muscles rippling under the skin that hinted at a lissome strength. Then he started to unbutton his jeans, and Chrissy turned away, cheeks burning up with a heat to rival that of the radiator. She beat a quick retreat into the bathroom, afraid that her blush was so vivid that even Eddie could sense it.

When she emerged a minute later, clad in a baggy UIC sweatshirt and an old pair of shorts, Eddie had wrapped himself in her bathrobe. His discarded T-shirt and jeans would have flustered Chrissy and sent her scurrying back to the bathroom, had it not been for the sight of his gangly limbs poking out from the pink, fluffy robe, which made her burst out laughing.

Unfazed by her laughter, Eddie struck a pose, like he was a supermodel on the latest haute couture runway. "How do I look?" he asked.

"Quite cute, actually," said Chrissy, picking up his clothes and putting them on the radiator to dry.

Eddie pouted. "Just cute?"

"OK, you look ravishing," she said. There were still some cherry blossom petals stuck in his hair. She plucked them away. "These pink petals go very well with the robe." And because he was still pouting, and because she could never look at his lips long enough without wanting to kiss him, she did just that.

When they first started dating, Chrissy had often had to tell Eddie she was about to kiss him, so he wouldn't be caught off-guard. Now, they were comfortable enough with each other and he could sense her well enough that she no longer had to, but she still liked to touch his face first, to let him know.   

The moment she put a finger to his lips, Eddie smiled in anticipation. As their lips touched, he embraced her in the way she liked, with one hand on the small of her back and the other caressing her face, as if it wasn't enough to just kiss her with his mouth, he must feel her with his entire being as well. The kiss went from sweet to hungry, and Chrissy could feel her body rising to his touch, straining against the fabric of her sweatshirt, seeking relief, while heat pooled between her legs. It scared her. It wasn't the first time she felt this way when Eddie kissed her—in fact, she always felt that way whenever he kissed her—but this was the first time that she planned to do something about it, and it scared her. They were moving too fast. She wasn't ready yet.

Gathering all her willpower, she broke off the kiss and took a step back. "Sit down," she told Eddie. "I'll dry your hair." She thought he looked slightly deflated, but he sat down on the floor and crossed his long, boyish legs without protest. He'd kept his boxers on, she saw to her relief.

Sitting above him on the bed, she toweled his hair before blow-drying it, gently running her fingers through the long strands to loosen them. Eddie closed his eyes and arched his neck under her hand like a cat, and Chrissy had to fight the urge to kiss him again.

"Do you want to get started on the D&D now?" she asked, putting the dryer away.

He put his head back, his curls, now dry and fluffy, spreading over her lap. "No," he said languidly. "I'm too comfortable to move. I've melted into the floor. You're going to have to scoop me up."

Seeing his face turned up at her like that, Chrissy's willpower cracked. But she didn't succumb to temptation just yet. Leaning down, she only gave his nose a little peck. It would have to be enough for now. But clearly that wasn't enough for Eddie, because he grabbed her and pulled her, amidst protesting squeals and giggles, off the bed and to the floor with him, where he sought her lips again and again, until Chrissy was out of breath from kisses and laughter.

Their tussle had pulled the robe open across Eddie's chest, showing a couple of tattoos. Chrissy knew he had tattoos, but she had only seen two of them—the flock of bats, "because they're blind", as Eddie had once told her, hovering around his elbow, and the demonic puppet on the inside of his forearm, for "Master of Puppets", the first song he and his band had played together. These she had never seen before.  

"What are these on your chest?" she asked, extending a hand toward the tattoos, only to pull back at the last second. She realized this was the first time she'd ever seen Eddie with his shirt off, and blushed again.

"My tats?" He pulled the robe down a bit to show her more clearly and pointed to one of the tattoos, the one lower down, a decaying skull or a demon with a blood-speckled mouth, Chrissy couldn't tell. "This is Eddie," he explained. "He's the Iron Maiden mascot. The guys convinced me to get it, so I thought, why not? My favorite band, and my namesake too. It's fitting."

"What about this one?" she asked, pointing to the one closer to his collarbone, a spider with spindly legs.

"It's a Kaua'i cave wolf spider. They live inside volcanic caves in Hawaii, so they're born without eyes."

Chrissy was quiet, thinking about how much Eddie was shaped by his blindness, and yet how much he refused to let it define him. She reached out, lightly brushed the tattoos with her fingertips. Eddie's breath caught the moment her fingers touched his chest, and she could feel his pulse hammering just beneath his skin. Somehow, it calmed her, knowing that he was also nervous. She was sure that if she kissed him now, he would welcome it.

Which was precisely why she didn't kiss him. Instead, she asked, "Do you have any other tattoos?"

"Just this one." He pulled his right arm out of the robe and showed her his bicep, where a half-dragon, half-bird creature writhed and brandished its claws. "It's a wyvern. A D&D monster."

"Let me guess," said Chrissy, tracing the undulations of the creature's body. "Looking at it can turn you blind?"

Eddie laughed. "No. I just like it."

He lifted her hand from his arm and started dropping little kisses on her fingers, one by one. Trying to ignore the fluttering in the pit of her stomach and lower down, Chrissy asked, "Who did all these for you?"

"Friends, anyone who can draw and wield a tattoo needle, really. I described what I wanted, and they did it."

"But how would you know that they would tattoo the right thing?"

Eddie shrugged, pulling the robe back up. "You gotta trust the person whose hands you're putting yourself into, and let go."

Those words seemed to speak to Chrissy's heart. Can I trust your hands? she wondered. Can I let go?

"Why did you get them?" she asked.

Eddie gave her a gentle smile. "Even though I can't see them, is that what you mean?"

She had been meaning to ask him that for a while, ever since she first saw his tattoos, but she was afraid that it would come off rude and nosy. Now that Eddie had put it so bluntly, she admitted, "... Well, yes."

"I know they're there. I think they're cool. And, not to sound like a dick, but I think tattoos are mostly for other people to look at anyway."

"How so?"

"Think about the person with wings tattooed on their back, for example, or a girl with a rose on her ankle. How often do they see those?"

"But why mark your skin in such a permanent way? Aren't you afraid you're going to change your mind?"

"Not really." Eddie shook his head. "This"—he tapped his temple—"is much more permanent."

She wondered what he meant. But before she could ask, something else he'd said caught her attention.

"How would you even know that a girl has a rose on her ankle?" she asked suspiciously. "That sounds oddly specific."

Eddie's dimples made a sudden appearance on his cheeks, then vanished again. "Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, Miss Cunningham?"

When he teased her like that, Chrissy could never stay annoyed for long. "Maybe," she said, a corner of her mouth quirking up.

"I'm not a total dork, you know," Eddie said. "I may be blind, but I still play guitar in a band. Some girls think it's cool."

His tone was jokey, but his words went through Chrissy like a shard of ice, turning her insides numb. It was exactly what she was afraid of, and to hear Eddie joke about it only worsened her fear.

Eddie must have noticed that she had gone silent, because his cocky grin disappeared and he squeezed her hand. "Chrissy?" he said, concern in his voice. "What's wrong? I was just kidding. It's not like girls are throwing themselves at me or anything."

Chrissy tried to pull herself together. Her insecurities were her problem, not Eddie's. "No, I know, it's fine," she managed to say. "It doesn't matter. It's just—"

"What?"

She might as well come clean now. "Well, when I was dating Jason, he insisted that we waited until marriage," she said.

It took a moment for this to sink in for Eddie. When it did, he only let out a soft "Oh", almost inaudible, like a breath.

"At least you have some experience," Chrissy said, her voice muted. "I have none." She turned away from him and put her forehead on her drawn-up knees.

Eddie was quiet for a long time. Then his hand felt about her back, her shoulder, and her head, until he found her chin and lifted it. "Chrissy," he said. There was no longer any trace of jokiness in his voice. "I don't mind any of that. We can wait until marriage too. If that's what you want."

Relief and affection flooded Chrissy's heart. How could she have ever doubted him? She put his hand to her cheek, so he could feel her smiling. "Is that a proposal?" she asked.

A faint blush colored Eddie's face. "Oh—I don't—I mean..."

"Relax, Eddie. I'm teasing you."

She kept his hand on her cheek, feeling the warmth against her skin, looking at his large brown eyes that saw nothing yet still took in everything, at his lips so ready to smile and to kiss, watching his face that bore no judgment, no irritation, only tender with affection for her. And she made up her mind.

The only question was how to tell Eddie what she wanted. They were touching each other, he was practically naked, and she didn't know what to do. For a confused moment, Chrissy tried to remember girls' nights in high school, when she and her friends used to giggle together about boys, but she had always blushed and laughed nervously when the talk turned dirty. She just didn't have it in her to be a seductress. 

"I meant what I said though," Eddie was saying. "I'm not asking you to do anything—"

She nodded. "I know you're not—"

"—we don't have to do anything—"

"—I know, it's just—"

"—not until you're ready—"

"—but I am ready!" she blurted out.

Eddie's mouth went slack.

"... What?" he asked blankly.

Chrissy took a deep breath. "That's what I've been trying to tell you," she said. "I don't want to wait."

Turning her face, she trailed her lips across his hand, kissing his palm and knuckles, before pulling him close and sealing her mouth over his. Eddie's hand moved from her cheek to behind her ear, fingers winding through her hair, pressing her to him, while his lips moved between hers, soft and delicious. She could feel her body relax under that kiss, tension draining out of her like snow melting in the spring rain. Why hadn't she done this? Why waste her time worrying, when she could have simply kissed him and let things run their natural courses?

When she slipped a hand under the bathrobe and touched him, her palm scorching against his cool skin, it was Eddie who pulled away this time. "Are we doing this now?" he whispered.

Oh no. Had she completely misread him? Was he not interested—now or—or—ever?

"What's wrong?" she asked, without letting go of his hand. It suddenly occurred to her as to why Eddie was hesitating. "I have condoms here if you don't," she said.

"I'm not worried about—" Eddie stopped, an eyebrow raised quizzically. "Why do you have condoms anyway?"

"I bought some after we started going out. Just in case." She didn't tell him that it had actually been Nancy who advised her to do so. "Why, do you have some too?"

Eddie's impish grin flashed across his face. "Yeah. I bought them after we started going out too. You know, just in case."

Laughing, Chrissy leaned over to pick up from where they left off, but Eddie gently took her wrists to hold her back. "Wait," he said. "There's something I have to tell you."

Something in the way he said it made her grow cold again. "What is it?"

Holding her hands in his lap, Eddie bent down until his face was buried in her palms. "I lied," he said. Chrissy's heart dropped, and she clutched at Eddie, silently screaming at him to continue. "When I said I'm not that experienced," he explained, "I meant I'm not experienced at all."

In her confusion, she didn't understand what he was saying at first. Then it dawned on her. "What, you haven't—" With his head still in her hands and his hair tickling the inside of her wrists, he shook his head. "I thought you dated before?"

"I've gone out with a couple of girls, yes," Eddie said, his voice muffled. "I just went out with them. That's all."

"But—you know what to do, right?" she asked.

He lifted his head. Under his hair, she could see his face, all crimson, sheepish, miserable, a schoolboy having to confess his crimes. "In theory, yes," he said. "In practice? Only with myself."

"Eddie!" She swatted at his arm, but the tension was broken, thanks to his bad joke.

His dimples dipped and rose again. "Sorry. TMI."

"Those girls don't know what they're missing, do they?" she said, matching his playful tone.

"Oh, there have been opportunities. But I couldn't. I don't know why—it feels wrong, doing it with someone who's only interested because she thinks I'm this bad boy rocker or whatever, as opposed to..." He trailed off.

"As opposed to what?"

"I don't know. Maybe I was saving myself too."

"For marriage?"

"For you."

A part of Chrissy melted at that, but her insecurities were rearing their ugly Hydra-like heads again. This meant she would be his first too. She hadn't thought about that. What if she was no good? What if they were no good together?

Eddie squeezed her hand again. "Look, I'm really sorry, OK? I'm sorry for not coming clean with you sooner. If it made you feel any better, I'm pretty sure the cashier at Walgreens thought I was buying the condoms on a dare, so..."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"When we first started going out, I was kind of—terrified of you, a little."

"Me?" Chrissy asked, incredulous. If only he knew how nervous she'd been on their first date...

"I mean, you were the most popular girl at your school, you were a cheerleader—"

Chrissy shook her head, impatient. "'Were' is the key word here, Eddie. I'm not that person anymore. And even if I was, there's nothing to be afraid of."

"I know. I just thought I'd be no good for you. I didn't want you to know that I am a total dork after all."

Chrissy supposed she should be angry with him for lying—or at least for exaggerating and omitting the truth—but any annoyance she had with him faded away at that. For all his bluster and confidence, he was just like her, full of fear and self-doubt. Perhaps that was why they were drawn to each other, why she felt so safe around him.

"You are a dork," she said. "But I forgive you."

A smile broke across Eddie's face, small and unsure, like the spring sun coming out after heavy rain. "So you don't mind?" he asked.

"Of course not." She put a hand on Eddie's cheek, cradling and caressing his jaw. "We can show each other. I mean... if you want to."

"I always want to."

Those words opened the floodgate that Chrissy had been keeping locked inside her. Lunging at Eddie, she kissed him with abandon, her mouth and body and heart open, hungry for him. She pulled him stumbling to his feet, so they could get into bed. Eddie yanked impatiently at the hem of her sweatshirt, and she broke off the kiss just long enough to pull it over her head and toss it aside.

The moment the sweatshirt hit the floor and cold air hit her bare skin, Chrissy paused. She looked at Eddie, his face clouded with desire, his chest heaving with anticipation, his lips, plump and red from kissing—those lips, always those lips, they were going to be the death of her—and she had to fight a wild urge to laugh, because he was still wearing her pink fluffy bathrobe.

But this was too important, too meaningful a moment for laughter.

Gently tugging at the belt of the robe, she undid it and let it fall from his shoulders. They stood facing each other, the air between them humming with desire. Eddie extended a tentative hand toward her, and Chrissy met him halfway, catching his wrist and placing his hand on her. They had been frantic a minute ago; now they moved slowly, with great care, as if afraid that any sudden move may cause the other to dissolve into the air like soap bubbles.

Eddie had once told her about something in D&D called the Theater of the Mind, which he used a lot in his campaigns because it didn't rely on visuals. Now, he was touching her, gentle fingers skimming over her skin like he was building a version of herself in his own Theater of the Mind. Chrissy wondered what she looked like to him. Her face he had known well, but this would be the first time he touched her body.

Chrissy had always hated her body. As Eddie's hands moved, she could only think of what was wrong with it. His hands lightly stroked her shoulders, which were never elegant enough for the dresses her mother wanted her to wear. They brushed along her arms, which were never strong enough or graceful enough to lift the pompoms into the air. They circled her waist, which was never slim enough, and glided over her stomach, which was never flat enough, before coming to rest on the underside of her breasts, which were never big enough.

"Can I—?" Eddie asked, fingers fluttering over her chest.

"Yes." She took a step forward, pressing herself into his palms. His hand closed over her breast, one side and then the other, before letting go again.

"You have nice breasts." He sounded almost reverent.

"They're kind of small."

"No. They're perfect."

He took her breasts in his palms again, and the way his thumbs and fingers grazed them sent such liquid fire through her that she thought she would burst into tears or into flames, just from his touch alone. This was enough. She was enough.

He continued to touch her until the fire was too much for her to bear. The dreamy, almost wary touches forgotten, she put one of his hands on the waistband of her shorts, and together, they pulled until both the shorts and her underwear slid down her legs, and she could kick them away. His boxers followed. The back of her knees hit the edge of the bed. She fell backward into it, drawing Eddie down with her. He slipped a hand between her legs, almost by accident, yet even that brief touch was enough to fan the fire inside her higher.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

And he did. But this was no lingering kiss like the ones they'd had before. Eddie pulled at her mouth in gasping, grasping little kisses, as if he couldn't trust himself—or her—to stay long enough. She didn't know where to put her hands and where to direct his hand, wanting to feel him everywhere, on her, in her, all at once.

"The condom?" he reminded her.

Chrissy reached into a drawer in her bedside table, drew out the package, and handed one to Eddie with a nervous giggle. He fumbled with it, before settling himself between her thighs again. "You ready?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm." She didn't trust herself to say anything else.

His first thrust brought reality crashing back, as sharp and glaring as the pain that shot up inside her. She gasped, from shock as much as from pain, and Eddie immediately stopped.

"What is it?" he asked, voice tinged with panic. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," she managed to say, through gritted teeth. "Just give me a sec."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No." She shifted her hips, trying to find a more comfortable position, to get used to the alien feeling inside her.

Eddie lifted himself up on his elbows to ease the pressure on her. With one hand, he caressed her face, trying to find evidence of her discomfort.

"I'm all right," she said, without feeling it. "I think I'm ready now."

Eddie started moving inside her, each thrust accompanied by a quivering breath. The pain dulled to soreness, and Chrissy lay still, afraid any movement would bring it back. Some vague pleasantness started to form at the edge of the pain, but before she could grab it, Eddie gave a shudder and collapsed on top of her, where he lay gasping quietly, and it was gone.

So that was their first time. Was this how it was always going to be? Where had they gone wrong? Chrissy wanted to push Eddie away so she could draw a deep breath, so she could curl up within herself and die, but she couldn't move. The pain in her body turned into the pain in her heart, and a void opened up inside her, where Eddie had just been a minute ago, and widened until she was nothing but a hollowed-out husk. She couldn't even cry.

Eddie edged away and moved to lie next to her. "I'm sorry," he said. "It was no good for you, wasn't it?" When she didn't answer, he said, in a small voice, "Is this a bad time to tell you that I love you?"

Chrissy turned to look at him in the dimming light. His hands were drifting toward her but not quite touching, as if he was afraid his touch would offend her. Although she had fallen for Eddie since their first date—and she was sure he felt the same—they had never said "I love you" to each other. With Jason, who had been free with his words and said so often, she had always replied, "I love you too", because that's what you're supposed to say when someone says "I love you". She had said those words so much that they had lost all meaning. With Eddie, it was a different matter.

"You've just been inside me, so I guess there's no better time," she said with a small laugh.

Eddie didn't laugh. He cupped her face, his way of focusing on her when he couldn't do it with his eyes, and said, simply, honestly, "I love you."

Like magic, her pain disappeared, replaced by a joy so fierce it was almost like another pain, only this one she didn't want to ever go away. The void inside her began to fill up. This wasn't the end of the world. They were young and ignorant. They still had time. And he loved her. That was the most important thing.

He loved her. She wished she could say it back to him. She wished she could say it with such ease and sincerity and passion as he had. But when she opened her mouth, it was only to say, "Perhaps we can try again."

"I don't know why you would ever want to try again after—after that."

But Chrissy found, to her surprise, that she did want to try again.

"I said we could show each other," she said. "But we didn't show each other anything that time. So yes, I'd like to try again."

He sat up, giving her his full attention. "Show me then."

Chrissy looked around, thinking. Her eyes fell on the opened drawer of her bedside table, and an idea occurred. Reaching into the drawer, she pulled out her sleep mask and slipped it over her eyes.

"What are you doing?" asked Eddie.

"Putting on my sleep mask."

"Why?"

"I want to feel you as you feel me."

As the mask plunged her into darkness, she heard Eddie take in a sharp, eager breath. His hand brushed down her side. A soft gasp escaped her when she felt the smooth undersides of his steel rings on her skin.

"What is it?" Eddie sounded frightened. "Are you still in pain?"

"No. I just—I wasn't expecting it, that's all."

"Do you want me to take the rings off? Do they bother you?"

"No!" She grabbed his hand and put it back where she wanted it. "Not at all."

The rings were warm from his skin, so she'd barely noticed them before, but now, with her eyes covered, the sensation seemed to increase tenfold, the smooth, firm touch of them, so different from the quivering softness of his palms and fingertips, yet still pleasurable in its own way, pleasurable because it was unquestioning Eddie's touch. No other hand would feel the same. Oh, she should have thought of this earlier! There was vulnerability in not being able to see, yes, but there was liberation in it as well, not having to worry about what she saw, and a certain exhilaration in not knowing what to expect while still trusting him with her entire body, her entire being. Let go, Eddie's words from earlier echoed in her mind. Let go.

Reaching out, she found his face and drew him down to her for a long, slow kiss. Just as he'd done with her before, now she ran her hands over him, building a map of him from her remaining senses. The smoothness of his skin, the scent of his 2-in-1 shampoo and body wash—such a boy, she would have to get him to switch to something else that wouldn't damage his lovely hair—mixed with the tanginess of his sweat, and the faint trace of mint in his mouth—she didn't like his smoking, so he'd been trying to quit. She traced her fingers over his tattoos, committing them to her own Theater of the Mind.

"You want to know something funny?" Eddie said, lips grazing her jaw, her throat.

"What?"

"Before we met, when I—touched myself, I never imagined anyone specific."

"And after?"

"I imagine you."

She didn't tell him that had been precisely the same for her as well. She only asked, a little hoarsely, "How do you imagine me?"

"When we kiss, you always make this cute little noise in your throat." He imitated it, like a pleased, breathless "hmm". Chrissy wasn't even aware that she had been making such a sound. It would've mortified her, but she heard the smile in Eddie's voice and knew he delighted in it, just as he delighted in everything about her. "So I would imagine that. And I'd imagine your soft skin, your sweet mouth, your hands on me..." He gave her a little kiss with each thing he listed off. "But I never imagine this."

"What, this?"

She slid a hand below his waist, and he made that noise again—that small, excited inhale. But she was determined to take it slow this time. Grabbing his other hand, she pressed it between her thighs, showing him how to touch her as she'd touched herself, as she'd only been able to do furtively, in her old bedroom at home or in the bathroom here, with the door tightly locked and without making a sound, for fear of discovery. But here, now, there was no fear. There was only the feel of his hand on her, the soft sound in his throat, and her own quickening breath. The fire was rekindling, sparkling embers spreading from low in her belly all the way down her thighs, concentrating where their hands met, at her core.

"Like this?" he whispered, his fingers supple and obedient under her hand, touching and stroking where she wanted, how she wanted.

"Yes," she panted. "Please."

Without pulling his hand away, he trailed his mouth down her throat and her chest, before closing his lips around her nipple. His tongue flicked against the sensitive bud, making her whimper, and when he nibbled at her, it was like a bolt of electricity that went through her, connecting his mouth to his hand, fusing him to her. She cried out as her body arched toward him, asking for more.

This time, there was no need to ask if she was ready. They both groped for the condom on the table, and before she knew it, their bodies were melded together. There was a twinge of half-remembered pain, but it went away the moment Eddie started to move against her. With each thrust, the fire inside her flared into life, scorching, demanding. She clung to him, her arms across his back, her legs around his waist, and her face buried in his shoulder, as her hips lifted to meet him, to move along with him, to urge him on. More. Harder. Faster. More. More.

She yanked the sleep mask down. Through blurry eyes, she could see Eddie looking down at her, his hair framed by the light coming through the window like a halo, and she thought he was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

"Tell me you love me," she begged, fingers digging into his back as if she was trying to make a new tattoo there. "Please, Eddie."

He leaned down until their foreheads were touching. "I love you," he whispered. His breath blew hot and sweet across her skin, and as those words settled in her heart, the fire finally burst, sending flames of pure ecstasy over her. She thought it would drown out all sensations, but, like a lightning strike that threw the storm cloud into sharp relief against the dark sky, her climax only allowed her to feel him more closely, clearly, and strongly than anything she had ever felt before. When his own release came, a moment later, she triumphed in it, in the pleasure they had given each other.

Afterward, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her softly.

"Was that better?" he asked.

She smiled into his kiss. "Oh, totally."

He chuckled, a rumbling sound deep in his throat. "You don't really want to learn how to play D&D, do you?" he said. "This is what you had in mind all along, bringing me back to your room so you could seduce me."

"Seduce you?!" she said, laughing.

"Not that I'm complaining."

"How dare you imply that I may have ulterior motives?" she said, in mock outrage. "I do want to learn how to play D&D!"

He smiled and kissed her again. "I guess we can do that later then."

But they never did, not that day. The dice and the rule book lay forgotten on her desk, while they spent the rest of the afternoon in bed, exploring each other's body, mapping every dip and curve like two intrepid travelers discovering the hills and valleys of some unknown, magical country. She learned his tattoos, tracing the strings of the puppet, the claws of the wyvern, counting each and every bat. He learned that her front teeth were crooked, that her nose was slightly upturned, and that one of her calves was bigger than the other, something Chrissy hated because her mother pointed it out constantly, but now, under Eddie's touch, felt like an adorable quirk. She learned that he had a scar on his forehead, curving like a half-moon under his fringe, the result of an accident in the early days of his blindness. They both learned how to touch each other in other, different ways, finding out what they liked and what the other liked, becoming so perfectly in tune with each other that, when their bodies were joined, it was impossible to know where one ended and the other began.

When they got hungry, they finished the picnic leftover, sharing the food as they'd shared the pleasure. Then they continued their journey until exhaustion set in, and they fell asleep in each other's arms.

At some point during the night, Chrissy woke up. The radiator, set on a timer, had turned itself off, and the room was chilled. She gently got out of bed, wrapped herself in her bathrobe—which still smelled faintly of Eddie—and went to the radiator, where Eddie's clothes had dried. These she folded and put on a chair, before turning the radiator back on. Then she crossed to the window, lifted the blinds, and looked out.

It was raining again, a fine drizzling mist that turned the asphalt into specks of gold under the streetlights. It must be quite late, yet some lonely souls were still trudging on the pavement, hunched under umbrellas or with their collars turned up against the cold and damp. Chrissy wondered where they were going, whether they had somewhere or someone warm waiting for them, like she did.

Behind her, Eddie stirred in his sleep and made a noise that was half-whimper, half-whine, when he reached out and found her not there. Chrissy let the blinds fall, so the room was shrouded in darkness again, and made her way back to bed.

But she didn't go back to sleep right away. In the dark, she leaned over Eddie and traced his tattoos with her fingertips, seeing him as he saw himself, pleased that she was beginning to memorize them, just as she was beginning to memorize his body, his scent, the feel of his skin against hers. And that was when she finally understood what Eddie had meant earlier—this was the true permanent thing. Even when the ink had faded, this memory, this feeling would remain, lighting her up like a glow in the dark.

"I love you," she whispered. It didn't matter that he was asleep. She said it to fix the memory of this night in her mind, like Eddie fixing his memories with pictures on his skin. And now that she'd said it, she would be able to say it again, when he could hear her.

But he'd heard her. "Love you too," he mumbled into her hair, sleepily, easily, as if they'd said it to each other hundreds of times. With a smile, Chrissy slipped under the warm blankets and fell into Eddie's warmer embrace, where she slept again.

THE END

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

P&C | Ch. 1: The Night Before I Met You

➪ Playlist (Spotify) l Series Masterlist

"Mira? Miraya? Can you hear me?" my mom's soft cries call out from the phone.

"Hi mom ... m... mom it's a video call, you have to turn the camera towards you," I quickly explain, glancing at my mom's ear that stares back at me through the screen. It only takes her three tries and a hate speech against our electronic world until we are finally met face to face.

"Is it working now? Can you see me?"

I nod, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Miraya, how are you? Why don't you ever call us? I can't sleep at night thinking about how you're all alone. Your dad is getting mad at me, he thinks my worrisome would somehow bother you. Says you're too busy." her words, although sprinkled with annoyance are coated with genuine concern that fills the room.

Moving out of my parent's home is one thing, but moving to another country ... alone ... is something completely different. I used to say the world is my oyster all the time, but now that I've tasted that stupid oyster, I feel ashamed of my poor judgment. I would rather walk across a field of legos barefoot than go through another immigration process on my own.

See, a year ago, I would have only dreamed of living in Korea. Learning about the culture and exploring their diverse cuisine. It was all fun and games until hope turned into manifestation, which then transformed into a deep-rooted determination. I've spent all three years of high school, working my ass off, perfecting my GPA to appeal to the board of education. I guess it all paid off in the end, since fast forward to a year later, and I am now living in my one-room dorm at one of the most prestigious universities in Korea.

"I'm sorry Mom, I truly am. I keep meaning to, but honestly, there's just not enough time in the day." I try to convince both of us.

To be honest, it has been about 2 months since I arrived, but with each passing day, I feel more and more lost. This whole time I've been consumed with academics, relying on nothing but my humongous brain to pull through with this mission. But, now I realise that in terms of just living, functioning as one singularity in the real world, I am hopeless. An absolute noob of a human being. I've grown too comfortable living under my parent's wings. Always enclosed in a bubble of security and protection, which I'm eternally grateful for if it wasn't for the fact that I'd become a complete menace to my older self.

Nonetheless, I'm here, somehow managed to overcome the post-immigration depression, even though the state of my dorm would like to argue otherwise. This is partially why I tend not to call home as often as I wish to or should. I never want my parents to see the behind-the-scenes of my "success", they at least deserve to live in peace knowing that their daughter who is 8600 km away is managing everything just fine.

"Miraya, please honey, don't make me call you out of worry. I want us to talk daily just because. I miss you so much, it feels like half of my heart left with you." my mom's voice breaks with each word, as her eyes fill with tears. 

"Sorry Mommy, I promise I will call every day from now on. I miss you guys as well, it's insane to think that I won't be able to see you guys for Thanksgiving." I try to maintain my composure by changing the topic before nibbling on my lips to calm the nerves. 

I'm the oldest daughter out of three kids but my parents have always treated me like their little princess. This means that without fail, I have always taken that to my advantage. And, no you can't talk to customer service about your complaints regarding moi because this main character energy has been deep-rooted in me since my diaper days. So, please, respectfully, keep it to yourself.

Anywho, back to the point. Although my two brothers still live at home, my departure has left a big mark on our family dynamic. My mom has been worried sick for the past 2 months while the men of the family try to calm down her nerves. My brothers are beginning to feel a bit offended as they feel like my mom is neglecting their presence but in reality, she just isn't used to this distance, especially away from her blood. My dad is no better, he may look all tough and composed but for the first week following my departure, he cried himself to sleep while holding on to my childhood plushie.

"Okay, please keep that promise, honey. Everyone is sending you so much love, please take care of yourself. Are you ready for the first day?"

"I mean, as ready as I can get, I guess. I walked around campus today to get an idea of where everything is. The only problem is that I have about 10 minutes to get to my physics class on the other side of the main quad. But, aside from that it's manageable." I nod with reassurance, giving my mom a thumbs up. 

"You're a smart cookie, dear. Everything will be just fine. You know I pray for you every day, ask God to protect my baby."

"Thank you, Mommy, well I'm going to have to go now. The dining hall closes in an hour. There's always such a big lineup." I say, looking around for my portable charger. 

"Of course, my love. We miss you, please stay safe!" my mom waves me goodbye with a soft smile as the wrinkles around her eyes become more prominent with each call. 

And, as the sunset paints the sky in warm, beautiful tones, I quickly grab my keys, ID, and wallet before heading out the door after checking that everything has been unplugged. Speedwalking down the hall, I managed to make it into the elevator before the door closed, that is until I tripped over my flip-flops and stumbled upon something. Perhaps, a body.

I dared not to lift my head, as one hand held onto the wall while the other rested on someone's chest. I could feel my face getting redder but the longer I stayed like this the more it appeared as less of an accident.

"I'm so sorry, are you okay? I was trying to make it to the elevator but my flip-flops had other plans." I quickly say, straightening up as my hand finally detaches from them.

Locking eyes with the poor fellow I was shocked by how composed he was, letting out a slight chuckle as his gaze admired my flushed cheeks. 

"No worries, are you okay? Why are we in a rush?" he asks with a boxy smile.

"Oh, no, I'm fine, just embarrassed. I was rushing to the dining hall, there's always such a big lineup." I explain, still trying to maintain minimum eye contact as the blood from my face steadily settles down.

"Aah, I see. Well, don't be embarrassed, it happens to the best of us. Anywho, this is my stop, I guess I'll see you around?" he waves me a quick goodbye before the elevator doors close.

"Yeah, b .. bye," words fumble out of my mouth before I was left reflecting on my actions surrounded by the four walls. Looking up, I was, unfortunately, able to make out the state the guy saw me in. 

Hair? Still left in two messy space buns, after I complained of it being in my face the whole time I was unpacking.

My shirt, you might ask? Well, it could only be the most humiliating piece of fabric I could find at my grown age, aka my Barbie merch. This whole time I was worried about my red face, while my shirt was covered in Raquelle printouts. Great.

--

I was right, the line at the dining hall was long, even more so than usual. But, at least, I was able to find my friend, Jiah. She was the first person I met on campus, and even though we hung out every day since my arrival, we only realized that we were neighbours about a week ago. Women in STEM, what can I say?

"Miraya!" she shouts across the hall, waving her hands as we lock eyes. I squeeze through a literal sea of hungry students and finally make it towards her.

"Jiah, you have no idea how happy I am to finally see you," I say, breathless from all that walking (it was a maximum of 10 steps).

"Finally? What do you mean finally? We saw each other in the morning," the poor girl responds with actual concern on her face. Was I giving hints of an early stage of dementia? 

"Yes, but so much has happened. First of all, look at me. I look like I just came out of hibernation." I sigh, realising she wouldn't understand my frustration as she is also repping the Barbie merch.

"What do you mean? You look cute," she reassures me with a small chuckle.

I can't help but laugh because we both look ridiculous, but it's less embarrassing when a 6-foot-blonde guy with a boxy smile isn't involved in the scenario. So, we quickly grab the food and enjoy the little debrief about our first day of classes.

"You know, I compared my schedule with my boyfriend yesterday and we only have 3 classes together." Jiah sighed, pouting her lips.

"Well, you know, 3 classes versus the rest of your life. I feel like you guys will manage just fine." I chuckle, as she smiles back at me.

"You're right, it's silly. I just miss him. He has been away this whole summer, and no one warned me about how tough long distance is."

"Where was he again?" I ask.

"Well, he first went on a grad trip with his guy friends and then back home to visit his grandparents. I just wished he was able to come back sooner. I really miss him." Jiah looks down at her plate, swirling the leftovers with her fork.

"Hey, Jiah, it's just one more night. Do you want to sleep in my dorm for today? We can have a relaxing pampering night, hm?" I say, reaching my hand toward hers as she glances back up with a smile.

--

"What do you think of this? Or is this better?" I ask, forcing Jiah to judge the fashion show I have created out of my possible outfit options for tomorrow.

"Oh, number 2. One hundred percent. Are you kidding me? You look absolutely drop-dead gorgeous in knee-high boots." she replies with a satisfied look, fully trusting her judgement.

The weather in Seoul is getting chillier so the knee-highs fit the theme, but are they not a bit too much? But also, I did not just go through all of those years to be just much. So, you best believe I will be making an appearance in those bad boys.

"You're right, okay well then I'm all ready. Just have to actually wake up on time." I say, laying on the sofa before looking at the organized row of necessities Jiah and I prepped for the following morning. The rest of the night was spent talking and making dinner before we both fell asleep to the sound of rain. 

Next

[utilitycaster]

What would you say are the CR cast's individual weaknesses? I'm always trying to improve for my own games and also curious to see if I can spot them in the episodes.

Hi anon,

This is super subjective, heavily biased towards my own personal likes and dislikes, etc, so I don't think you should per se use this as your own metric, and also a lot of these are not mechanical but more broadly about structure or acting.

Travis: bias immediately begins here; I think he's one of the strongest actors and one of the strongest people mechanically at the table. He also really knows what he wants and likes to do, which, spoilers, is essentially my biggest criticism of almost anyone else; and I think as part of that he addressed what would have been my biggest criticism in the past (namely, a hesitancy towards emotional roleplay which was present in C1 and was very much part of what he proceeded to push his boundaries on with Fjord and in some ways even more so with Chetney). Anyway I think my current main critique is that I would like to see him play a character who really isn't good with melee/is a full caster and I think he's been more hesitant on that, but also, it's valid to have a strong preference for one type of build so like. he can keep doing what he's doing and I will not be mad.

Marisha: I've talked about this before but I think she really needs to do more involved backstory planning that dives into motivations more, or, failing that, simply have very goal-oriented characters. I think that even when there's been vagueness in the backstories of her other characters (basically everyone but Keyleth) their motivations were enough to carry them through, but this has been a campaign-long struggle for Laudna. I will also admit that I find her acting choices as Laudna specifically to be rather overwrought in a way that doesn't particularly, work for me but I have a really strong personal bias towards naturalistic styles. She's also capable of much subtler work, and both Bee and Patia I think showed that off.

Sam: Kind of a weird in-between situation in comparison to the above. I think Sam knows his sweet spot and capacity for humor and so he rarely goes as dark as say, Oscar Grimm, but he is absolutely killing it already over there. In general I think Sam needs to be more willing to leave his comfort zone and push himself more because he can play it a bit safe. I think he does have a sharp learning curve re: complex mechanics (this is why early FCG was rough) exacerbated by the fact that I think he really tends to assume what he can do is way more limited than it is, and I suspect the much simpler Candela system is working to his favor, but like, he does eventually get there and, should we get a campaign 4, I'm going to tape "BE PATIENT WITH SAM, HE ALWAYS GETS THERE" on my laptop to remind me.

Ashley: Bit like Sam actually! I think she can and should go harder on mechanics (and for the most part has been; I think she underestimates herself a lot), and I also think she needs to make wilder choices. Fearne has been a delight in this regard but I want to echo the cast at one of the recent convention Q&As: please push the red button more, please go absolute as hard as you want. Will say her acting is maybe my favorite in the cast.

Laura: ABSOLUTELY NEEDS TO PUSH MORE BIG RED BUTTONS. Like...man. I feel this mindset; I don't really play video games other than stupid phone games but I'm That Person who's like "I only have 100 erasers in Two Dots, I must ration them". But I think she's doing a fantastic job with Imogen and my one criticism would truly be Go Bigger And Weirder And Harder. This is why I mentioned her; she was willing to take such massive risks as Arlo, and I think part of that was because it was a short campaign and she didn't feel that need to hold back but like, please, press buttons and take more risks. Her RP is always stellar though. Like, truly, I think Laura, Ashley, and Travis often appeal to my personal taste in acting choices and themes the most, and I just want Laura and Ashley to make similarly wild choices to Travis sometimes.

Liam: This is 100% purely a very me thing; I find he acts like a stage actor (which he is!) when there is a camera like 10 feet from his face and it can at times be a bit much for me, a person who is annoying re: subtlety. When he hits, he fucking hits though. Vax sometimes got a little overwrought for me but when he went quieter it was top notch; Caleb was fantastic because I think he counteracted this tendency; and there's been a couple moments with Orym I haven't loved but so many that I have. Mechanically he is great and while I'm a noted Rogue Disliker, Wizard/Fighter/Cleric are all flawless and much as I'd like to see him play other classes he is valid for his core four choice.

Taliesin: Here is the thing. I think whereas Laura takes a somewhat hesitant, afraid to let her character die stance, Taliesin does in fact have sort of a parallel issue of taking huge risks and then being very pikachu face when his character does die. Big swing of the pendulum in the other direction. However, Taliesin tends to hit on themes I find fascinating, consistently, and has a truly impressive breadth of mechanical skill. Even when I don't like his characters (only happened once) I absolutely respect what he's doing, and perhaps most importantly, he truly does not care what I or others in the fandom think, which makes me respect him more. Like, you know what? Molly isn't for me, and that's valid! Anyway. I hesitate to suggest more caution bc episodes 3x77-78 were so good and I loved all the wild shit Percy got up to (I also loved Caduceus but he was a much more laid-back character by design) but I do think that lack of caution is his weakness.

Matt: Judging more on the basis of being a DM than a player here just for sheer quantity but I think that his two greatest weaknesses are first, communicating highly specific risks (the main ones being the Iron Shepherds and the Otohan fight; you can't do that in pitched combat my man); and for lack of a better way to put it, I do still think he needed more firmness in the character creation stage of c3 and then looser reins during the campaign itself. I've been thinking about this a lot because I think that when I have frustrations with Aabria's style it's weirdly sort of...needs slightly looser reins but in a totally different way, and like, when Matt needs to loosen up, RP moments fall by the wayside and plot is fine, whereas when Aabria needs to loosen up, RP is still stellar but plot suffers.

[sonnet009games]

Just read chapter 3, and it was my favorite so far! It's getting better and better each time and I can't wait for more!

Ilyana was a truly terrifying opponent, and it was interesting for me to see the whole thing unfold, including its aftermath. I was actually wondering before how would Flea act if MC got seriously hurt at some point and... well I guess the answer to that came faster than I thought! Though it seems poor Flea himself really can't take a break - something happens to him in each chapter!

I also enjoyed the scenes with Ted by the end. Since I'm on a "only friend" playthrough, it was so fun to see him having a field day trying to tease my MC, who was just rolling his eyes and enduring it because what else can you do. It's sweet to see how much Ted cares too. Funnily enough, even if I don't know the guy that well, I actually expected him to be sort of relieved when meeting Flea, even if he doesn't truly get what the relationship is at this point. My MC is the "neat" kind - and with the whole clinical looking and sterile home, I can't help but think Ted must be relieved at any "life" brought into it, be it Tabby or Flea. It's like bringing more life to MC's actual life?

Anyway, that aside, there was one scene that I think sort of felt like a continuity issue. It's actually not something the character creation recap asked for, so I'm assuming the scene is the same no matter what, but it felt a little bit strange on my playthrough so I prefer to mention it: when talking about Ilyana, Flea mentions how "If Ilyana really is a succubus, and if she's really that comfortable with killing, then she'll be the first truly dangerous demon you've ever tangled with". The MC corrects this by thinking she'd be the second because of the one that killed their family. But I was wondering if this wouldn't warrant a different line from Flea with a MC who told him about their family? It seemed a bit strange to me Flea wouldn't act/speak at least a bit differently here if he knows, basically. It's not a big issue though, and who knows, it may even be intentional from him, but I guess better safe and sorry, I just prefer to mention it and be sure.

I think that's it! And now I'll just replay it for a second time because I need more! It was amazing!

Re: the issue you raised--I see your point. My thinking was that Flea means "tangling with" in the sense of deliberately seeking out danger, and thus isn't counting the red-eyed demon from your childhood. But I can understand that it might feel a little off. I'll put a little note in my records so that, if I ever update Chapter 3, I'll take another look at that section and see if I should tweak the dialogue a bit.

Anyway, I'm glad you enjoyed this chapter! And that you liked the stuff with Ted. He is definitely surprised, amused, and, yeah, relieved to see the detective making out with some weird dude at the door to their apartment--he's never known them to have any kind of connection to another person who isn't him.

I'm also glad you liked Ilyana as a villain. She's lived in my head for so long, it's kind of sad that she's gone so soon.

[s9fti3]

Kylie’s 500 Follower special!!! I will be doing small daydreams of people’s favorite characters!! Not just that, but prompts as well from fluff, angst, and even a bit of suggestive content!! I’d love to hear your ideas, lovebug!!

-thank you all so so so so much for this, you have not idea what this means to me :(

@dollywons for their divider!!! (so beautiful btw)

Prompts;

ANGST:

#1- i know what you're thinking.

#2- if I ask for your help are you gonna make a big deal out of it?

#3- i would've come sooner. i would've been here if you'd only asked.

#4- i don't want to hurt anymore.

#5- it'd be a lot easier if i actually cared as little as i pretend to.

#6- i do need you. i wouldn't be here if i didn't.

#7- pretending you don't need people doesn't make you strong it just makes you a jackass.

#8- you shouldn't have said that.

#9- sometimes i wish they had done something worse.

#10- i wish you actually understood me.

FLUFF:

#1- Shut up, no it’s not! It’s positive?!

#2- Just kiss me already!

#3- There is no way you’re comfortable. You’re literally hanging off of the bed!

#4- I fall asleep to the thought of you and I wake up to the thought of you.

#5- if only you knew how much you truly mean to me.

#6- do you ever wonder what it would be like if things were different between us?

#7- sometimes i wonder if you ever think about me the way i think about you.

#8- i think i've been in love with you since the day we met - scratch that, i know i've been in love with you since the day we met.

#9- my biggest wish is to hold you close and never let you go.

#10- every time you smile at me, i get this flutter in my chest.

#11- you were the best thing that's ever happened to me.

#12- i want to fall asleep wrapped in your arms.

#13- hold me closer; i always feel safer when you're with me.

#14- there's so much i wish i was able to tell you.

#15- i think you are the one for me, and i hope one day i'll be the one for you, too.

#16- my first instinct is to protect you, no matter the cost.

Suggestive:

#1- oh? does that turn you on?

#2- you look good on your knees like this.

#3- i need you. please. ill be quick.

#4- i know you have one more for me. come on, i'm not done yet.

#5- fuck, that was so hot.

#6- go on. fuck yourself on my cock.

#7- you have no idea how long i've thought about having you like this.

#8- keep the noise down, baby. you're too loud.

#9- they can't fuck you like i can.

#10- fuck, i've missed you.

#11- keep going. just like that.

#12- just a little more. you can take a little more, can't you?

#13- what would they think if they could see you now, huh?

#14- maybe i should put my dick in your mouth so you'll shut up.

#15- don't stop. please, don't stop.

#16- fucking doesn't involve this much talking normally.

#17- if you want something, then you ask for it.

#18- when was the last time someone fucked you?

#19- how was that? satisfying enough for you?

#20- oh no, i'm not finished with you yet.

Fandoms;

-Walking Dead

-Shamless

-Harry Potter

-OBX

-Euphoria

-Mid90s

-Twilight

-Baby

-The Maze Runner

-Stranger Things

-American Horror Story

-The last of us

(if you don’t see something you like, feel free to ask!!)

[raidergamerspice]

I typed out a giant thread on Twitter about why I think it's baffling that being a Twiyor can get you funny looks in the Spy x Family fandom, that Nightfall could ever be a likeable character, topped off with how much I hate her. I would bring that over here as well, but honestly, I don't want to. If you wanna read the thread, it's on Twitter.

As for this post, I'd rather talk about something that makes me happy, like Twiyor twins!

Yes, I'm finally talking about them like I said I would. I mean, I feel like I don't have much to say about them, but let's see what spills out of my brain lmao.

First, their names. I'm probably being unoriginal, but I headcanon the Twiyor twins' names being Rose and James. Other fans have had this idea for their kids too, so that just proves how perfect they are. Rose is obvious because of Yor being Thorn Princess. As for James, it goes back to what I said in a previous post about all the James Bond references in Spy x Family, including it possibly being Twilight's real name. Well, I think James would be a better name for their son than Twilight himself (though I do like the idea of James being Twilight's middle name, meaning his full name according to yours truly would be Lukas James Rosenfeld; see my post about Twilight's name for my reasons behind Lukas and Rosenfeld if you haven't already).

Oh, and if you didn't pick up on it yet, I also headcanon Rose being the first born twin. Most fans that headcanon Twiyor having twins usually have the son born before the daughter. But here's me simply going "But what if the daughter was born first instead?" It may also tie in to a relatively popular headcanon among Twiyors that Twilight is very much a daughter's father, or something along those lines.

And maybe as they grow up, they can go by nicknames Rosie and Jimmy 🤔

As for their genetics, I'm kinda torn. I've seen fan artists draw Twiyor twins as blonde and red-eyed for the daughter, and black-haired and blue-eyed for the son. That's a neat idea, but what if it was the reverse? That's just an idea, though. I'm not exactly sure on how I picture them looking just yet 💀

Regarding Big Sister Anya: personally, she would just love having younger siblings no matter what. I've seen some fans interpret Anya wanting a sister, others interpret her wanting a brother, so here's me in the middle once again being like "She would love both!" She would just be happy that their family is growing, and she would make it her mission to be the best big sister in the world.

Finally, I've seen a few fans write Twiyor baby fics where they would have lots of children, both bio and adopted, because they would be great parents and would happily foster more children if it meant less lonely, parentless children in the world. That's a really sweet idea, but personally, I feel like Anya and the twins would be enough for them. Even if they eventually moved into a bigger house for them all to live comfortably in, they would be content with having three children and a dog 🥰

(Oh, and speaking of them moving into a house, I did try playing a Sims 4 household with the Forgers, and I just had them live in a Sim made version of the house from Mr. & Mrs. Smith because that movie walked so Spy x Family could run 😂 Plus, it's a perfect size for them, especially if they did have twins)

Anyway, those are my thoughts on Twiyor twins! What do you think? Agree or disagree? Oh, and if you're interested in that Sim house I mentioned, here's a video of the Simmer making it:

[joshriku]

ages ago i asked for prompts on twitter and i think ava had requested cherik + bodyswap, and i forgot i wrote that til i found it looking at my files so i figured i'd also post it here ages later lol it's too short for ao3! but perfect length for tumblr.

-

“I don't know how you do it,” says Charles. 

His voice—it's Erik's, no doubt. Words coming from his mouth, his body. His body, that Charles is currently inhabiting. 

“Do what?” asks Erik, with—with his voice, God damn it. This whole situation is so strange. 

It's supposed to wear off in a few hours, said the other teachers. Just a mutant learning to control their powers, nothing else. But now Charles is Erik, and Erik is Charles, and it's been the most insanity-inducing hours of his life. They haven't left Charles' room, as they decided to spend this ordeal as quietly as possible: in bed, reading. 

“This. Alone with your thoughts,” Charles says. “I'm miserable. And overstimulated, even though I am not doing anything. It's…” 

So much. His skin is prickly, impossible to touch. He can sense the clock ticking—not just the one inside the mansion, but everyone's. Phones buzzing or vibrating. The kitchen. Jewelry. The televisions. The satellites. The cities further away. The core of the Earth—

Erik takes his hand. Charles takes a moment to note how different his own hand is, when he's being touched—this is not comforting. So many times he's held someone, held a student, tried to comfort them with a gesture. And now that he's being comforted by his body—God, he should never be close to people.

“Breathe in,” Erik tells him. “Narrow your focus to one thing. Try your wheelchair.”

It's such a big power. To narrow it to something so small like his wheelchair feels like an impossible task, but then he notices a little helping hand: it's sloppy and careless, but the undeniable sensation of a telepathic push. Erik’s not good at it—good God, how is he holding up with all those voices?—but he’s good enough to guide Charles to his objective.

His body slumps against the bed, once the world is reduced to just the wheelchair.

“How do you do it?” Charles repeats. “It’s so quiet. It’s so lonely. And this power—it’s too great, I’m afraid. How does your body not fall apart? How does your mind not fall apart? How do you—”

Erik cuts him off. “I am wondering the same thing about you, as we speak. There is so much noise. People cannot stop thinking, not even for one second. How do you not go insane?”

He supposes the same questions he asked have the same answer Charles would give Erik: you get used to it. You settle into it like a second skin, until one day you no longer get to think about it.

“You get used to it,” he says, although he knows Erik must have heard it, anyway. His grip on Charles’ telepathy isn’t that good—Charles presumes he doesn’t know how to leave his mind. Erik hums anyway. “I suppose it’s more impressive right now, to be in a body where—it’s truly yours. Mine, it feels like it shares a bit with every single person. I cannot stop myself from seeing through their lenses, even for a second. I guess being alone right now—truly and well alone, it just… makes me wonder. How you don’t go insane. How you talk to people, how you are such a good judge of character. I can only be one because of my powers, and even then, I can go so wrong.”

Erik raises an eyebrow in his direction. It’s so odd, looking at his face. Does Charles really look like this? No wonder he got into so many arguments. He’s rather annoyed at that face.

“Funny, again. I have been pondering that myself. If I could listen to every thought, every sentiment, and every motivation behind someone’s actions—well, perhaps I’d become a hermit. It takes incredible strength to do this. I admire you.”

Charles smiles a little. “I suppose we are both so exceptional,” he says. He squeezes Erik’s hand again, trying to focus on Erik’s body, wanting to be held by it instead. “Only a few more hours to go.”

“Maybe we won’t go insane in three hours,” Erik smiles back. “Who knows? We have got plenty of time.”

[crescenthistory]

carina hello lovely, again a HUGE congratulations on your 2k, i'm so so proud ahfhkkh truly your writing deserves thousands upon thousands more, and i personally can't wait to see those milestones reached, I appreciate you sm and TY for doing this event <333

i'm here to actually request an interpretation if that's alright, school's been so stressful atm, but this event sounds so fun, i just had to jump on the train, i'd absolutely adore your take :D

i'm an infj. i'm an introverted person in general, also tend to be a bit anxious (socially and in general), i'm a bit reserved, and in a big group of people I rarely say much. however around my loved ones, my friends especially, I talk a concerning amount, and genuinely forget i'm in public (like nurse she is out again 😭), but even in my friendships, i'm more so a listener, sorta got the 'therapist friend' badge. a lot of my time is devoted to studying (ikr whatta nerd 🥱). i love to read and write, there's also playing the piano- I love trying to compose by myself (emphasis on trying)-, art (sketching, painting, fashion design all that chaos), biggg on music and multilingual (4 languages, and struggling with Greek atm) . love language is quality time, a sprinkle of physical touch and acts of service <3

right now, my favorite song is 'letter to hermione' by david bowie and/or bite the hand by boygenius (love them oml) <3

i hope i didn't yap tm, and that this was descriptive enough 😭💕, thank you for taking the time for this, love you lots carina <3 !!!

ahhhhh kayla so lovely to see you in my inbox!! you're honestly such a bright person, both in terms of intellect and in the sense that you light up everyone around you<33 you're so so supportive and kind, i don't deserve you 🫂🤍 big hugs and lots of love to you my darling, thank you for participating and being such a sweet gem! best of luck with all your coursework<3

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will INTERPRET for kayla-and-the-moon

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

while i think you could work with many characters, i see you fitting most seamlessly in with poly!bartylus!

you have that unique dynamic within yourself that regulus and barty thrive on – some reservedness while occasionally being unhinged. i think you are the most similar to regulus, but in a way he appreciates. regulus is the type who might struggle when being confronted with himself in the reflection of someone else, but your specific similarities are the ones he would find comfort and security with instead. he is also the type who sits and listens in most larger groups, and i believe he would gravitate towards you, so you could observe together, perhaps while holding hands. your devotion to your studies and to reading is one he shares and that would allow for exceptional and frequent quality time together. though, when you're both the "listener" friends, you would be able to challenge the other to be the speaker for once and grow more comfortable in your relationships together. whereas barty, he enjoys someone with a big personality hidden beneath the surface because then he gets to be the one to bring it out. poke the right buttons, create the right environment and suddenly his sweet girlfriend is laughing loudly and ranting on about something – precisely his goal. while he would most certainly bully you and regulus for being "swots", that is also part of what he is attracted to. he needs a partner who can think for themselves, who can challenge him intellectually with more than just common banter. i feel like you three could bring out the best in each other and enjoy the journey together 🤍 also regulus loves boygenius

[grimescum]

choose violence meme for 1, 13, and 18 >:3c !!

KAYLA COMING IN CLUTCH OMG do u knoq how painful it is to not just answer walter for each one. i had to sit here and ponder bro

1. this one os hardddd coz the few characters i can think of are usually misinterpreted by the fandom for jokes? and i get that but i Think. i'll say ogata (golden kamuy). i see the thing where people take a stoic character and make them Alpha Daddy Dom (do you get what i mean. am i crazy. like how men are pictured in shitty romance manga or webtoons) and that pisses me off because i can tell its not done for the funny. it's probably not a regular occurrence though, i mostly see it while browsing pinterest

my first thought of course was walter but i'm not necessarily unhappy with the fandom's perception of him. more humanizing aspects of him are either only implied or are just crumbs so i get why people would take the easy route and turn him into a cardboard cutout of a character if theyre not crazy. that being said (and this kinda ties into what i said above) i still get pissed off when people chalk him up to being evil or sexy or have him show only one personality trait which is either kind old grandpa or smug sexy grandpa

i am a big fan of humanizing characters . please make ur characters vulnerable ❤️ i'm kind of a hypocrite because of how many pictures i draw of sexy walter but uum. hes sure as hell vulnerable in them so (/j im working on it, its more an issue with my motivation)

13. alucard (hellsing) i think. i just . sometimes it feels like people forget how tragic he is and either make him entirely too silly. but again what they draw doesn't necessarily reflect what they truly think, i just wish more people would focus on just how fucked up he is.

that stupid hellsing abridged that i hate (slight exaggeration) probably contributed to how people portray him tbqh

18. zorin (hellsing) on the basis that she's hot and i want to see more muscle women

gansoku (golden kamuy) on the basis that he's adorable and funny and a well made interesting character. i can see why the others outshine him obvs i just wish he got more love

uuhmm walter's potential relationship with seras (hellsing) because i think it would be so sweet to see him act as a sort of father figure towards her (no i am not projecting my deep rooted desire for an older man i see as my father figure to be kind to me whatsoever)

the trauma that integra (hellsing) would likely have. all this talk about how shes badass and hot, and its true, but there's so much you can say about her that people usually don't. i'd love a comic or a fic or whatever where integra finally feels comfortable enough around a person to loosen up

i started getting sleepy coz i was thinking so hard 😭 i hope this is coherent . i dont interact w fandoms much outside of my own little bubble so

[itsjaywalkers]

hi laurie <3 how is your health? do you feel better?

there’s another big discourse about regulus character, what is ooc for him, what is not, was he right, did he deserve redemption or did he deserve to die as villain. you know, same old conversation, but it made me curious about your vision of his character! how do you view him in canon? do you think he was more morally dark than grey or more grey than dark? tell me everything please <3

hi lovely!! my health's fine, i'm completely recovered!! it was a tough week but i survived that stupid chest infection

oooooh u know i don't care about discourse but i love how u just brought it up to . turn it into a nice lil debate and ask about my portrayal of a character <333

we obviously don't get a lot about reg in canon but i think we get enough!! a couple of what could be core traits (since what we learn of him is all from sirius pov who's . quite biased) and some of his backstory!! so yes, he's kind of a blank slate of a character, which is incredibly fun when it comes to fanfiction but also . i truly believe there's a foundation here, even if a tiny unstable one yk??

anyways, to me, regulus is quite morally grey, but i don't think . he's more dark or more grey . the lovely kat (@messrsage) wrote a very interesting post about this a while ago, they talked about how the black brothers are both morally grey, and that sirius isn't more good or regulus more bad. they move up and down the spectrum, depending on who they keep as friends, on what influences them and their environment. i think the word kat used was morally fluid?? or something along those lines. and i absolutely agree!!

i don't believe sirius was better or inherently good. i just think that they had different responses for the same trauma. that they surrounded themselves by very different kinds of ppl. neither of them is in the right or in the wrong, yk?? they're both victims!! regulus thought that . obeying and listening to their parents and doing what he was told was the best course of action and there's nothing wrong with that

sirius implies that reg wasn't . capable of thinking on his own . that he was 'soft enough to believe them' (referring to their parents) which has always made me think that . despite reg definitely believing in blood supremacy and all that bullshit, at least for a while, it wasn't because he rationalised the whole thing all by himself and thought it was True and Right and Genuine, but that walburga and orion said this was how the world worked and he didn't think of questioning it. sirius did and look where that got him, right?? and besides, those are his parents, and despite how strict and cruel they can be sometimes, they love him, regulus knows they do, so why would they lie. i think he was comfortable, in a way, in the life that his parents made for him, and if not fighting back and agreeing with everything also stopped the abuse then even better

it's like the death eater thing. i'm sure his family had a lot to do with it!! and sure, it was also implied that reg had this weird nerdy fixation with voldemort, but i don't think that means . he was bad . voldemort was such a powerful wizard, and his family, or at least part of it, supported him and chose to follow him, so why wouldn't he find him interesting?? or even worthy of admiration?? he ended up betraying him and sacrificing himself the moment he realised what voldemort actually intended to do. besides, he was a fucking kid. people tend to forget that he was literally 16 when he joined the death eaters. and idk about u, but i was a fucking idiot at 16. not awful or anything, ofc, but i still did and said a lot of shit i'm not proud of, simply bc i didn't know better. but the thing is that i wasn't expected to!! bc again, i was just a kid!! doesn't excuse any of my mistakes, but i do think it's a fact that u gotta take into account when u try to judge someone

i think regulus wasn't a hero, but he wasn't a villain either. i think he was a terrified boy trying to survive. trying to make his family proud. and by the time he finally realised his mistake, it was too late. he still tried to fix his shit, and i think that matters. does that make him a good person?? nah, not really. but i think it makes him human

on a more surface level, my regulus is . proud . stubborn . spoiled . posh . mean in a non-targeted way, it's never personal to him (or not usually) and he's not trying to hurt anyone, it's just . a defence mechanism?? part of his personality, in a way. he isn't trying to be cruel on purpose. i think he's also a curious person, but it's a part of him he tends to ignore or supress, bc his parents don't like it. i think he's a follower and that he hates being the centre of attention, but at the same time, he's jealous of the way sirius seems to have everyone's eyes on him when he enters a room. he can be petty and resentful, but he's also shy and quiet and so very soft. it's a side of him that not a lot of ppl get to see, bc it's weak, but it's very much there, and i think that's the regulus that sirius knew most of his life. the regulus that he knew (or at least wanted to believe) was still there, which probably make him speak of him in such a . gentle way?? like yes, he called him an idiot but he has no qualms about cursing the rest of his family out, and he's pretty mean to all of them (with good reason) except andromeda and regulus. to me, that means he still loved his brother, and if sirius is still capable of . caring about regulus, at least to a certain degree, without even knowing about his change of heart . well . he couldn't have been that awful

there's also quite the debate about the kreacher thing, and whether reg was actually kind-hearted enough to believe and defend elves' rights or if it was simply the fact that it was kreacher, his house elf, and nothing else. personally, i don't think it matters that much. whatever his reason was, he still decided to betray voldermort over it, and tried to do the right thing, even tho the risk was High and he didn't know if he'd make it. that's what i believe says more about his character than what his exact tipping point was

and god i'm gonna shut up now, this turned out to be so ridiculously long i just . find regulus so interesting SORRY NONNIE😭

[sewer-freak]

LONG ASS MESSAGE WARNING!!!! I have Things to Share! You've not been super online lately so I've complied sum shit that may be of interest to you.

(turning off my pink text bc normal text is easier on the eyes for big messages likethis)

I've Accepted that my instinctive feelings toward your buddy Cain are. Different from yours and uhhhuhhhhh usually try not to make Too big a thing of it. (TBH, I get an instinctive bad vibe from. Most people. So that on its own isn't enough to go off of anyway.)

however!!!! I have reason to believe that he is The Kiwi Creep. (<- I gave him a name like they do for prolific killers)

Firstly, I present to you: These posts! I'm not a huge fan of this girl's either, but it is super useful that people just confess their dark incriminating secrets to her sometimes.

https://www.tumblr.com/heavensentofficial/757394760772337664/everything-is-alright-yes-its-just-not?source=share

https://www.tumblr.com/heavensentofficial/757737395132186624/apologies-for-the-late-acknowledgment-thank-you?source=share

(The second one has confirmation that this the same person that's been harassing you!)

"Anyway, I’ve been intentionally misleading people. Or, one particular person.

She’s someone I truly hold dear and appreciate, yet I’ve been anonymously sending her sadistic, lewd fantasies I have about her. They make her scared and uncomfortable, but every time I send them, she comes to me for help. …Without knowing it’s me."

"I can’t keep up the act anymore, I feel as if everything’s blurring together. I’m hurting her. Yet I’m the person she seeks comfort from. She’s coming to the very person who’s causing her issues in the first place and she has no idea."

Sound familiar???

I find it interesting too that The Kiwi Creep instead of going to Cain like you suggested went to this totally uninvolved person! (Kind of like how you never see Batman and Bruce Wayne in the same room!)

Coincidence? I for one think not!

If this isn't enough, he recently announced he'd be going on break.

https://www.tumblr.com/divinetouchdown/757916668887515136/hello-all-i-have-an-important-announcement-to?source=share

To do what? To handle an issue offline with higher ups at the temple. Guess he decided the coal-walking wasn't enough...

I don't usually go there anymore bc the local temple is built on abuse, puritanical hypocrisy and stuffing people into nasty, hard to clean chastity devices, but because I wanted to get to the bottom of this, I dressed up as Edin, who he'd trust, to see if I could get footage of him doing the things The Kiwi Creep said he'd do. I have some videos I can send you in DMs if you want em.

To top it all off, I got an account of his character from someone else that knows him.

https://www.tumblr.com/poorsadorphanposting/757925978181943296/hi-hi-%CB%86%E1%97%9C%CB%86-i-hear-youve-talked-to-one-mr?source=share

I personally think it's pretty fucking damning but you ofc are free to reach your own conclusions.

Anywayz I hope you're alright n I know this ask is probably kind of overwhelming gihfuoji;kl ... Idk if putting it all out there like this is even helpful but I feel Strongly about The Truth being important. Feel free 2 take your time n figure out how you feel about this info n stuff idfk

hi. yea sorry idont have a good consept of timr. im mot on here alot. immrlyy truing to thnk words but its hard. id o not feel well.

i also get bad vibes feom everyone but idk idk cain i felt like. like he proved hilmself to me like he was different he said he was and he was but ffXKKNG KIWI SAID HE WAS DIFFERTN AND FHAT IF I KNEW WHO HE WAS I wouldd dhnage my tone oh nnyhod im going to be sick

wwwhhatt do yiu mean “shes comjing tothe bery peraon who is causing her jssues” hes so nice why WHYDO I MAKE EVERYUONE WANT TO HURT ME?! clearly he doesnt eant to feel like that he told me it frustrated him and hedidnt know what to so with the feelings i provoked him i always dducking do this i shojldnt interact with anyone evwer

ii i i dont kniw alot about the temple 8 only know whathes told me .,,, i thought he wpuld twll me to join but he neverdid it was alwaays more like “come to me with ur issues i can fix them!” idk idk idk

can

can you send me the vjdeos

i fffrll so horrible idont know what to do